The Remains of T-Day: A Wrap Up of Leftovers

Thanksgiving Wrap Up

[A funny thing happens when I'm a wee bit stressed about schoolwork, holidays and the million other vagaries of mere existence: I start talking to myself . . . ]

Me: Life is like a plate of Thanksgiving leftovers --

MeanieMe: It's an indistinguishable mish-mash of reconstituted remnants from happier times? A bland attempt to recapture in scraps the experiences, sensations and emotions of all-too-occasional special occasions? You never know what you're gonna get?

Me: Can I finish? As I was saying, life is like a plate of Thanksgiving leftovers - it's often made up of highlights from those exceptional moments when we are profoundly reminded of our membership in family, community and society. Just as there are several helpings worth of turkey and trimmings to be had in the days after T-day, many of us continue to graze on these special instances as we return to our everyday lives, to tide us over with pleasant memories until the next big event.

MeanieMe: [Zzzzzzzzzz] Wha-? Oh, sorry. Must've dozed off after "As I was saying . . . "

Me: Moving right along, this analogy came to me as our family sat down to enjoy the copious remains of our Thanksgiving meal on the Day After, eating with gusto until once again our bellies were full and our sighs were contented. It was just like the day before, except that it really wasn't.

The good china had been replaced by Chinet paper plates, the silverware with plasticware. The 15-lb fresh, local turkey that was slowly roasted for nearly 5 hours was now rendered into convenient slices of dark and white meat, microwaved to an edible temperature in less than 5 minutes. And the delicious side dishes, condiments and desserts, which my mother- and sisters-in-law prepared with such care and consideration, were inauspiciously lined up on the kitchen counter in the same plastic containers in which they were refrigerated overnight. Though the flavors of the food were (almost) the same, the entire context of the meal was much different.

MeanieMe: Well, well. I thought I was the crabby cranberry, but here you are being Miss Pilgrim Party Pooper, hatin' on the leftovers. Can't say I'm surprised: last year's post-Thanksgiving entry about how the all-American holiday story is just a socially-constructed myth was a major downer, too.

Me: Hey, that post had a happy ending and I am not hating on the leftovers. Just let me get to my point.

MeanieMe: Which is . . . ?

Me: That it's all well and good for us to try and recreate the best occurrences in our lives, but oftentimes, we set ourselves up for a measure of disappointment if we expect an exact duplicate of a singular experience - like eating a plate of reheated leftovers in the belief that it will be a Holiday Feast Redux. The reality is that all the little details and intangible variables that come together to make these moments so special may not always be in place; no matter how hard we might try, what we get is a slightly faded facsimile of the original.

Instead, let's take a few elements from those great times - say, the surplus from a wonderful Thanksgiving meal, like moist turkey, piquant cranberry-horseradish sauce and a tender baked sweet potato - and make additions from today (wheatberries, whole wheat tortillas) to create something different yet reminiscent. It may not reach the level of noteworthiness as a big ol' holiday, but it makes an ordinary day a bit more special.

MeanieMe: [Zzzzzzz] Wha-? Oh, sorry. Must've dozed off after, "Blah blah blah . . ."

Me: I'm not talking to you anymore.

Thanksgiving Wrap Up
This dish was inspired by the Harvest Wrap - roasted turkey, wild rice, yams, and cream sauce, rolled in a soft wheat tortilla - served at The Good Earth restaurant in Edina, MN. Although it's been quite some time since I've had the original, it immediately came to mind when I considered what to make with our Thanksgiving leftovers. The appetizing appeal of this wrap is in its combination of textures - from the crunchiness of nuts, the chewiness of a whole grain and the creaminess of mashed yams; I changed up a few of the ingredients from Good Earth's version to use what came from our bounteous Thanksgiving table, namely wheatberries in place of wild rice and a cranberry-horseradish sauce for the cream-based one.

I'm pleased to submit this dish to the Thanksgiving Makeover Challenge hosted by Natasha of 5 Star Foodie. Be sure to check her blog on December 7th for what will certainly be a delectable round-up of entries!

Serves 2

Ingredients

Whole wheat tortillas
Roast turkey, sliced
Mashed sweet potatoes (see below for suggested preparation)
1/2 cup cooked wheatberries
Pepitas, slivered almonds, chopped hazelnuts or other nut
Creamy Cranberry-Horseradish Sauce (click here for recipe)

For gingered sweet potato mash, choose 1 medium-size tuber, peel and cut into quarters. Place in a pot and add water until just covering the potato chunks; bring to a boil and cook until pieces are tender. Drain and place in bowl with 1 Tablespoon butter, 1-2 teaspoons of ginger paste (or very finely minced gingerroot), and 2 Tablespoons of heavy whipping cream. Mash with a fork or masher until potatoes are smooth (if using a potato ricer, mash potatoes first before adding butter, etc.)

To prepare:

1. Warm tortillas in a non-stick skillet over low-medium heat until soft;
2. Spoon 2 heaping tablespoons of mashed sweet potato lengthwise in center of tortilla, then top with turkey slices;
3. Spoon as much wheatberries as desired over turkey slices, then sprinkle pepitas or other nuts on top.
4. Fold bottom of tortilla (edge that is perpendicular to the filling) over, followed by the sides. To keep tortilla folded, flip it over so that 'seam' side is down;
5. Spoon cranberry-horseradish sauce over the wrap and serve immediately.

Happy Leftovers!!

'Hell' on Meals: A Damn Good Cookbook

Bison Sausage Bread

Poem for Damn Good Food

Too many paths to hunger sated,

All choices on which I stopped to dwell

And be one diner, long I waited

'Til Chef appeared as I debated,

And said, "Buy the book or go to 'Hell'.

by Tangled Noodle

(inspired by "The Road Not Taken", Robert Frost)

Delicate Lemon-Ricotta Hotcakes, adorned with fresh berries . . . Huevos Rancheros, piled high with Spicy Black Beans . . . mammoth Caramel-Pecan Rolls, each one big enough for two but too good to share. . . and, of course, the near-mythic Mahnomin Porridge.

These are all signature dishes at Hell's Kitchen, Chef Mitch Omer's wickedly popular duo of restaurants, where the décor is postmodern Gothic and tattoos accessorize the servers' ensembles (except at Sunday Brunch, when the ink may be covered by comfy pajamas). Until recently, the only way to enjoy the aforementioned dishes was to descend into Hell's Kitchen's new underground digs in Minneapolis or trek north to Duluth, where the dead of winter makes it a special kind of purgatory for those of weak constitution. But now, I can add my own kitchen to the list of infernal locales.

With Damn Good Food: 157 Recipes from Hell's Kitchen, Omer and co-author Ann Bauer, a novelist and former food critic, reveal not only how to make the most tempting 'un-comfort' food - as when you're groaning over your stuffed belly - but also the mad, bad and dangerous mind behind it all. As a fan (or is it minion?) of the restaurant, I was thrilled to receive the book from publisher Minnesota Historical Society Press/Borealis Books. So, fair warning: this is not so much a review as it is a recap of a journey from bad behavior to good food, and all points in between.

"Mitch Omer is insane, and I mean that in the best - but also most literal - way."

Ann Bauer, Damn Good Food

Mitch & Me (photo by Susan Berkson)

It takes only one glance at Mitch Omer's nearly six and a half foot tall, cowboy-booted, shock-white maned figure to realize he's no ordinary being in a chef's jacket. I learned that firsthand when he appeared at the Minneapolis Farmers' Market cooking demonstration where I was making his Mahnomin Porridge recipe a few months back. It was a nerve-wracking pleasure to meet him - after all, it's not every day that a home cook like me prepares a signature dish under the gaze of its creator. Fortunately, he approved of my attempt. Looking back, however, that gentleman-chef in the baseball cap and neatly-tied ponytail belied the manic, wild-haired personality whose antics, ranging from droll (ice-fishing in the buff) to destructive (badly beating a young man while high on drugs), are concisely described by Bauer, who is one of Omer's closest friends, in pages that are equal parts memoir and cookbook.

The first part of DGF tracks Omer from a loving but behaviorally-troubled childhood in Des Moines, Iowa to wild adulthood replete with shorts stints in local detention facilities and an erratic career path as a bouncer, roadie, line cook and finally, an honest-to-goodness chef. Despite the sordid tales of drug abuse, infidelity and general recklessness, this book is not about penitence: Omer makes no excuses and offers no apologies for his past conduct. Interspersing the dark episodes of bipolar disorder, morbid obesity and suicidal thoughts are bright spots of food memories and culinary creativity that remained undimmed by his dissipation. There is his beloved Aunt Fran's Chicken and Noodles, re-printed from her original handwritten recipe card; Lobster Risotto with Roe and Fresh Peas, from his days of apprenticeship at the highly-regarded (now closed) New French Café; and Hell's Kitchen Ham and Pear Crisp, considered by many to be one of the best sandwiches in the Twin Cities.

Gratuitous Food Shot: Mahnomin Porridge

Family Album

Still, for a chronicle that mixes damn good food with sex, drugs and rock'n'roll, there is a conspicuous absence of one particular vice: food porn. Oh sure, there are tempting close-ups of hotcakes and caramel buns, but the photos of Hell's Kitchen's best fare are chastely low-key in black-and-white. I get the feeling that if I were to ask Chef Omer why this is so, he'd tell me that his food is meant to be eaten, not ogled! (Or words to that effect.)

On the other hand, there are abundant pictures of people - Omer, his family, friends, and cooks and servers, who all look like they're having a helluva good time. There's the one of the chef au naturel in his fishing hut, a strategically crossed leg and a convenient travel mug all that's keeping this a family cookbook. The love affair between his parents, Annie and Dana, is obvious in candid snapshots, as is the deep, affectionate friendship between Omer and his 'first lieutenant for life', Steven Myer. And finally, what is 'Hell' without 'Cyn'? Cynthia Gerdes is Omer's wife, business partner and lifeline, about whom Bauer writes, "Without her he'd likely be a hapless, addled genius, the kind of troubled, high-potential guy people sigh about and say, 'What a shame.'"

The only sighs heard at Hell's Kitchen are ones of utter contentment; the only shame found are with those patrons who inconceivably fail to finish their meals. If there is a particular reason that the book has more photographs of people than of food, perhaps it is this: that Omer's successes - in overcoming his addictions and finding love and a measure of stability - are owed not just to his culinary talents, but also to those individuals who surround him and keep his ever-lurking torments at bay. As Bauer sums up nicely in Damn Good Food's final lines:

"It's only food. But in the case of Hell's Kitchen, it's not only food, and that's the point . . . It's family. It's love. It's life."

A Taste of 'Hell'

I couldn't wait to try the recipes in Damn Good Food, but which would be first? The Lemon-Ricotta Hotcakes were an obvious choice - too obvious - so I opted for yet another Hell's Kitchen favorite, Bison Sausage Bread. This is actually a two-part recipe, beginning with a phenomenally easy Maple-Glazed Bison Sausage; the end result is what Chef Omer calls "a kind of breakfast meatloaf" that packs wallops of savory, sweet and spicy flavors in every dense slice.

As with all the dishes in DGF, this Bison Sausage Bread recipe appears exactly as it is prepared in Hell's Kitchen. Stick to the plan and you'll know what all the fuss is about.

[The following recipes are reprinted with permission from the publisher.]

Maple-Glazed Bison Sausage
(Excerpted from Damn Good Food, page 73)

Makes approximately 8 patties

1 pound ground bison chuck
2/3 cup dried onion
6 tablespoons pure maple syrup
3 medium cloves garlic, minced (1 tablespoon)
2 teaspoons fennel seed
2 teaspoons fresh thyme
2 teaspoons dried sage
2 teaspoons crushed red pepper
1 teaspoon ground white pepper
1 teaspoon curing salt (see note)

Place all ingredients into the bowl of a stand mixer fitted with a paddle, and mix on low speed until just mixed, about 3 minutes. Do not to overmix the ingredients as this will compact the sausage and make for a tougher, dryer product. Moisten your hands and pat sausage mixture into 3-ounce portions, about the size of a golf ball.

Bison meat is so low in fat that it should be cooked no longer than 4 minutes per side. If broiling, cook patties on a rack set 4 inches from the heat. For stovetop cooking, use a lightly oiled skillet, preferably cast iron, and cook over high heat. Never press down with a spatula on sausages while they cook as this pushes the flavorful juices out of the patties.

Note: Curing salt is a combination of salt and sodium nitrite. It assists in the preserving and curing of meats and sausages, and helps preserve the natural color of the meats. If you don't have access to curing salts, just substitute sea salt.

Bison Sausage Bread
(Excerpted from Damn Good Food, page 58)

Makes 1 (3-pound) loaf

10 ounces Maple-Glazed Bison Sausage (see recipe above)
1 cup firmly packed dark brown sugar
2/3 cup granulated sugar
2 large eggs
2/3 cup brewed dark coffee
2 cups all-purpose flour
2/3 cup dried currants*
2/3 cup walnut pieces
3/4 teaspoon baking powder
3/4 teaspoon baking soda
3/4 teaspoon pumpkin pie spice
3/4 teaspoon ground ginger
2 tablespoons unsalted butter, melted

*Confession: I forgot to buy currants so I used dried cranberries instead.

Preheat oven to 350° F.

Place sausage, brown sugar, granulated sugar, eggs, and coffee into the bowl of a stand mixer fitted with a paddle. Mix on low speed until ingredients are just incorporated, about 1 minute. Turn speed to medium, and mix 1 minute more. Add remaining ingredients, and again on low speed, mix until just incorporated. Turn mixer off. Scrape down the sides of the bowl with a rubber spatula. Mix on medium speed another 2 minutes.

Brush an 8 x 4 x 2-inch bread pan with melted butter, and dust with flour. Scrape batter into the bread pan, and place on the center rack of the oven. Bake 1-1/2 hours, or until a toothpick inserted into the center of the loaf comes out clean.

Remove bread from the oven and let cool to room temperature in the pan. Remove loaf and wrap securely in plastic wrap. Will keep in the refrigerator up to 2 weeks and in the freezer for up to 6 months.

Damn Good Food: 157 Recipes from Hell's Kitchen, by Mitch Omer and Ann Bauer is available directly from the Hell's Kitchen website, the Minnesota Historical Society, or from your local bookseller!

"The perfect breakfast bread . . . Hell, with eggs, black coffee, 

and sausage, the perfect breakfast!" -- Chef Mitch Omer

Maybe Next Year . . .

Pan-Fried Fideo Crab Bites

I was in a funk - a Foodbuzz Festival Funk, to be precise.

As I write this, the 1st Annual Foodbuzz Blogger Festival in San Francisco is coming to a close, the 'Golden Forks' have been handed out to the inaugural award winners and attendees are dragging swag-laden carry-on luggage through SFO airport security. After jealously reading tweets and posts, and enviously perusing Twitpics and Flickr shots of goodie bags, food tastings and marvelous meals, I wish I could've been there, too.

But regret is bitter on the tongue and I would rather taste the sweetness of its opposite - gratitude. So, I thank the bloggers who posted those tweets and photos so that I could share in their excitement. I appreciate that Foodbuzz put together the festival, giving food bloggers yet another venue to connect with each other and celebrate the shared passion for good food. And I am grateful that although I did not make it this year, it is something to eagerly anticipate in the next.

As determined as I was to attend the festival, financing a weekend trip to San Francisco was going to be difficult. Yet hope was kindled when I learned that Foodbuzz and event sponsor Bertolli Sauces were offering 'scholarships' to cover travel expenses for bloggers whose entree and appetizer ideas using the latter's products were chosen. [Congratulations to the winners: Crystal & Amir of The Duo Dishes, Mardi of Eat, Live, Travel, Write and LK of Healthy.Delicious! Click here to see their entries.]

Because of the immediate deadline for entries (just a few days, if memory serves), the Foodbuzz/Bertolli contest required neither a complete recipe nor even a photograph of a finished dish - what was requested, and would be judged, was a concept. I was immediately intrigued because it represented a challenge to muster memory, knowledge and instinct about flavors and techniques to envision a final, feasible food. In my first year of blogging, I have learned so much about cooking instinctively and this was a perfect opportunity to test that education.

I figured my chances were as good as any and came up with an appetizer that I hoped would be a winner. In the end, however, my entry was never submitted. I can offer a whole host of reasons why I didn't do it but I won't; instead, let me just offer the appetizer itself!

This dish was inspired by a creation from Chef Ilan Hall, winner of Bravo's Top Chef, Season Two and now chef-owner of The Gorbals in Los Angeles. From his Crispy Pan-Fried Shrimp and Chorizo Fideo Cakes, I came up with a more simple version using crab meat and Bertolli's Alfredo Sauce with Aged Parmesan Cheese. Furthermore, I made it two ways - pan-fried and oven-baked - to compare the outcomes in terms of taste and texture. Although I didn't put it out there to be evaluated by my fellow bloggers in the Foodbuzz community, this recipe came out quite well and I hope that you'll enjoy it, too.

See you next year at Foodbuzz Fest II!

Fideo Crab Bites

Depending on the source, the Spanish word fideo may refer to any kind of noodle or, specifically, a very thin, short vermicelli-type pasta used in Mediterranean and Mexican cuisines. In southern Spain, it takes the place of rice in a paella dish called fideuá, whereas in Mexico, it is commonly used in soups (sopa de fideo) [sources: Wikipedia/Fideo, wisegeek.com]. Most recipes call for the noodles to be toasted first, either in the oven or by lightly frying, to deepen its flavor. I skipped this step here but will be sure to follow it for future preparations. Despite its pasta pedigree, fideo can be found in the Spanish or Mexican section of your local grocery. 

Baked Fideo Crab Bites

To cook the recipe, I tried both pan-frying and baking: the former yielded a deep golden color and appealingly crunchy texture, perfect as finger food dipped into a savory sauce, while the latter was softer to the bite with a quiche-like quality more suitable to a plated appetizer. Same mixture, different mouthfeel - in the end, Mr. Noodle declared both to be equal favorites.

Yields approximately 2 dozen

Ingredients:

4 oz fideo (capellini or vermicelli noodles, broken into 1" pieces, may be used)
1/4 cup Bertolli Alfredo Sauce with Aged Parmesan Cheese
2 eggs, beaten
8 oz crab meat
2 Tbsps fresh parsley, finely chopped
Oil for frying

To make:

1. Cook fideo according to package directions; rinse with cold water, drain well and set aside;

2. Combine alfredo sauce and eggs, and mix well;

3. In a separate bowl, mix cooled noodles, crabmeat and parsley, tossing gently to combine;

4. Add egg-alfredo mixture and toss gently until noodles are well-coated;

5. Cover bowl and refrigerate mixture for 30-45 minutes;

To pan-fry:

a) Pour just enough oil to cover the bottom of a sauté pan or skillet and heat;

b) Drop heaping tablespoons of chilled noodle mixture into hot oil, making sure not to crowd each spoonful;

c) Fry until golden on both sides, then remove to a plate lined with paper towels; serve immediately.

To bake:

a) Preheat oven to 375°F;

b) Grease mini-muffin pan with butter, oil or nonstick spray;

c) Spoon noodle mixture, filling each well to the top;

d) Bake for 30 minutes or until tops are golden;

e) Remove from oven and serve immediately.

This recipe is definitely still in progress: aside from toasting the fideo before boiling, other possible changes include using different seafood (salmon?) or adding cheese to the baked version so that the tops aren't quite as dry. Eventually, I'd like to try 'deconstructing' the alfredo sauce portion to make this a truly from-scratch appetizer. All suggestions, tips and advice are welcome!