mushroom mattar

Rae,

The mushroom mattar recipe I am sharing with you today is something I can prepare for my father. He detests fresh cilantro; this recipe produces tasty results without it.

The recipe is adapted from one I found in Madhur Jaffrey’s book, Simple Indian Cookery. I have chosen to work with her version because I like her use of sour cream. Instead of using one medium-sized tomato, she recommends using one tablespoon of tomato purée. I like saucy dishes. A whole tomato, peeled and finely chopped helps me achieve the kind of sauciness I like. I also prefer seeing flecks of red in this dish, though for a smoother, less colorful dish, you can purée the tomato.

Happy cooking,
Toni

mushroom mattar

3 tablespoons olive oil
1/2 teaspoon cumin seeds
1 teaspoon finely chopped garlic
18 oz white mushrooms, cut lengthways into quarters
2 teaspoons finely grated ginger
2 green chillies, finely chopped
1 teaspoon ground coriander
1 teaspoon garam masala
1 medium tomato, peeled and finely chopped
1 teaspoon salt
16 oz green peas (fresh or frozen)
2 tablespoons finely chopped fresh cilantro (optional)
1/2 cup water
2 tablespoons sour cream

Heat oil in a large non-stick skillet over medium-high heat. When the oil is hot, add cumin seeds for 10 seconds. Add the garlic, mushrooms, ginger and chillies. Cook, while stirring, for 10 minutes. Add the ground coriander and garam masala and stir for 1 minute. Then put in the chopped tomato, salt, peas, fresh cilantro and water. Cover, turn the heat to low and simmer for 5 minutes. Stir in the sour cream. Cook for a minute, then serve.

Makes 4-6 servings

we like to party

Dear Toni,

I’m still recovering from last Saturday. Stefano’s birthday party was a success, but I spent most of the day cooking and getting ready so I was already tired before anyone arrived. And little did I know that everyone would be there from 8pm to 1:30am! Estonians can party.

So, the food. I made hummus (which is entirely unfamiliar to most Estonians), an onion dip (with kalamata olives and a roasted red pepper), and a baked artichoke dip. To serve with those I cut up carrots, celery, and cauliflower, and put out crackers, chips, and a fluffy lavash for the hummus (I couldn’t find pita anywhere). I also made an extra-large batch of my stuffed mushrooms, which were gone in almost no time. We served three cheeses (brie, blue cheese, and goat gouda), and three kinds of olives (Spanish black, Spanish green with pimentos, and the aforementioned kalamatas). This time I didn’t even have time to take photos.

We had a variety of drinks available. The Marques de Caceres 2000 Rioja Reserva went quickly, and we didn’t have much left of the de Neuville 2004 Cabernet D’Anjou or the Maxime Trijol Pimeau des Charentes at the end of the evening. One friend drank Saku Kuld (Gold), and then most everyone drank Coke and whiskey (we had Ballentine’s, Jack Daniels, and Johhny Walker). I drank mostly water during the course of the evening, but did have one glass of Bicardi and Coke. A few friends (the designated drivers) only drank very early on, because Estonia has a zero tolerance policy (meaning that the legal alcohol limit is strictly 0).

My sister had suggested making Nigella Lawson’s chocolate mousse, so we bought the necessary ingredients and I followed the instructions to a T, but it never set. Part of the problem is that our refrigerator doesn’t get very cold, but some of the cups hadn’t set after a full day so something went wrong. Who knows? I really never make desserts, but I’ve got to find some kind of kick-ass dessert that I can make when necessary.

Anyway, I think we satisfied the sweet tooths with the capucchino we served. I, of course, had tea.

I was reading this Veggie Chic post the other day about microwaves. Did I mention that I haven’t used a microwave in nearly five months? We don’t have one here, and I decided to try life sans microwave before buying one. Well, I’m not going to buy one. The main reason is that we have a small kitchen and a microwave would take up a lot of space. The other reason is that the food I eat tastes better when reheated on the stove or in the oven. A microwave is faster, but I haven’t needed anything faster than the stove or oven. There’s something about the U.S. way of living that makes microwaves seem so necessary, and I couldn’t have imagined life without a microwave before now.

While I can do without a microwave, I couldn’t do without a mixer. I’d been wanting to make hummus for a while (I’ll share the recipe at some point), but couldn’t do it without a mixer. Since space is an issue, and I wanted something to match my kitchen (the appliances are black and brushed metal), and I wanted something multifuctional and relatively powerful that wasn’t too expensive, I had to shop around.

Stefano found this Philips HR 1372 5-in-1, 700w hand mixer for under $100 (plus he got an additional discount because it was his birthday). I’ve always been a sucker for kitchen gadgets, but I’ve already made use of all the attachments so this was a very practical buy. I’m quite pleased!

Ciao for now,

Rae

cooking for friends: a different perspective

Dear Rae,

As I read about your current entertaining quota versus the “just two or three times during the entire three years [you] lived in Florida,” I could not help but feel a spook nudge up against the back of my neck and blow whooo at the backside of my ear. Though a nice apartment helps, may I propose that maybe the spike in the number of your meet-and-greet activities has less to do with the apartment per se, and much to do with local culture?

As you know, I spent last weekend in New York. Late last Saturday night—10:30ish—while wrapping things up at a wonderful gathering of people at one location, one person, without forethought, invited six adults and three small children to gather together at his apartment. This sort of impromptu entertaining is nonexistent in my current local social milieu.

At this second, smaller gathering of friends, I end up talking to someone, who upon learning that I live in Florida, says, Oh, my husband absolutely hates that place! He lived there for 7 months and it was awful. He won’t even go there for a vacation. Her husband’s former Florida residence is far south of Tallahassee and has a greater population than your “old stomping ground.” I was not overly surprised by the comments (I have my own issues), but I did want to find out why the husband found my native home state so unappealing.

I cornered the husband (nicely, calm down) and coaxed him into giving me his reasons. They mirrored my own “issues.” It is the people (behaviors and customs), not the place. Here, a good number of us seem to display similar behaviors: We go from home to work, work to home, stick closely to our husband/wife/children/girlfriend/boyfriend, watch television, talk about television programs, sports and pets, shop at Home Depot and spend our weekends maintaining our yards and our large homes. Oh, and the two-four-week vacation period is like a single shining star in a black sky blanketing a well-traversed desert. Outside of stressed-out, everything-must-be-perfect holiday cooking, when do we cook for friends?

Isolation, or distance from others, renders me a bit empty. Not lonely—just a portion of me not properly filled. If I am at home with myself or with the same beloved people for most of the 365 days of each year, how can I, as the cliché goes, broaden my horizons? If I entertain and allow myself to be entertained, along with my spouse (who has not yet found me), then I/we are doubly “broadened.” Toss my current social climate among memories of social climes of which I have been exposed, and you get a tricky little mix of thoughts all ending with resigned awareness of being caught by the inertia of place.

Do you think that people in Tallinn have fewer behaviors to maintain (lawns to mow and tend, big houses to clean and decorate, television viewing, shopping and driving time), and therefore have more time to spend with others? Do they seem to value friendships nurtured the old-fashioned way—through the tummy? And through cheerful chat?

This is probably far more of an answer than you wanted (especially all the questions), but, given the timing of your letter and my meeting with an anti-Florida friend, I could not help myself. By the way, as my new friend was leaving the apartment, I placed a hand on his shoulder and asked him to please make peace with Florida. I got a good laugh out of him; maybe he and his wife will come down sometime.

Before closing, I thought I would add that when I got home late Monday night, the only fresh ingredients I had on hand was this red pepper and some garlic.

I sliced the pretty red pepper in half and placed it under a pre-heated broiler. I broiled the two pieces until their skins blackened. Then I took them out of the broiler and placed them on a wire rack for cooling. Once touchable, off came their blackened skins. I tossed the pepper in a blender with 3/4 cup of water and blended until smooth.

I heated 2 tablespoons of extra virgin olive oil in a pan and sautéed 3 minced garlic cloves on med-low heat for 3 minutes. Next, I added the pepper puree, 1 teaspoon of crushed red pepper, salt to taste, and 2 tablespoons of plain yogurt. Finally, I reduced the heat and simmered the mixture for about 10 minutes. Since I had angel hair pasta on hand, I served the roasted red pepper sauce on a bed of it, with some dried basil sprinkled on top.

Tip: Do not eat a lot of Angel Hair with Roasted Red Pepper Sauce before falling asleep.

Hey, I am glad you are too busy these days to think about your old stomping (out of frustration?) ground. Keep up with the entertaining; only good things can come from it.

Cheers pal,

Toni

P.S. Two lines I remember from last weekend’s entertainment: 1.) People don’t move to New York to stay at home. 2.) The ‘whys’? That’s why we have philosophy.

baked brandied brie

The one thing I don’t have a photo of. Well, it’s nothing gorgeous anyway, unless you add chopped walnuts or something on top…

Baked Brandied Brie
Serves 6 to 8.

3/4 cup brown sugar, packed
1/4 cup brandy
large, sealed wedge of brie or a small wheel
French baguette

Place brie in oven-safe (and pretty) baking dish, place packed brown sugar on top, and slowly pour the brandy over top of the sugar. Cover dish with plastic and refrigerate for 1-2 hours (though you can skip this step if you’re pressed for time).
Preheat oven to 400*F (205*C). Remove brie from refrigerator, unwrap and discard plastic. Bake for 10 to 15 minutes or until sugar begins to crystallize or bubble on top of the brie. Cool slightly and serve with French baguette slices.

cooking for friends

Dear Toni,

Ah, Tallahassee. Rarely do I think of the place, but there are certain areas I don’t at all mind recalling. Black Dog, Samrat, Mon Pere et Moi, Higher Taste. Hmm. All food places. I suppose I’ve been too busy to think of my old stomping ground. Busy entertaining guests, which is something I did just two or three times during the entire three years I lived in Florida. The apartment makes all the difference!

How often do you entertain guests? I’d say that in the four months I’ve been here, we’ve already had guests over more than a dozen times. The days friends come over are cooking days. Well, cooking and cleaning. If I haven’t planned the menu, I’ll do so, make a shopping list, and make a run with YK to the grocery store. Sometimes YK goes by himself, which leaves me with enough time to clean the apartment and prep any ingredients that I already have.

Last weekend I made a vegetable soup (combining two recipes: one for Vegetable Stock and one for Creamy Mushroom Soup). The stock recipe said to throw out the vegetables after creating the stock, but I couldn’t bear to throw all those tender veggies away. I also made my classic Spinach Quiche (minus the mayo and onion). Unfortunately, our guests brought an unpleasant Rioja that we drank out of politeness.

This weekend I made the always-popular Baked Brandied Brie (recipe in a separate post), plus Baked Fennel (I used regular milk and sour cream), and a Leek/Onion Tart (I modified the recipe by using 1 leek, 1 yellow onion, and 1/2 a shallot, vermouth instead of white wine, and goat cheese instead of feta, plus 1 extra egg). Our guests brought a decent Chianti (YK’s favorite varietal). We wrapped up the evening with a pot of Jade Snow tea, a Chinese green.

At some point I’ll start remembering to take photos before the guests dig in.

Best,
Rae

kitty cup

Rae,

Do you remember this?

The cup? The desk? I should say, the same desk on which this book was resting when someone (Ahem!) first learned about SAY-tahn—that would be the correct pronunciation of seitan. Devilish moment, eh?

Since you passed the kitty cup on to me last summer, it has become my favorite “cha” cup at work.

In case you are curious, the illustration of the two falling birds you see in the picture is a photocopy of the one that was used in The New Yorker’s publication of T. Coraghessan Boyle’s short story about a flying cat; “Swept Away” is set in the Shetland Islands. Sometimes when I am sipping tea I glance at it and think about the wind, the sound it makes as it whooshes through palm fronds or patches of sea oats. I also think about sharing—see how one bird, even as it is “swept away,” attempts to share a minnow with the bird with which it has become entangled?

Boyle has this to say about his story:

Then I began to write stories. I went up to the Sierra Nevada. I always do. And the first I wrote is a very whimsical piece based on the notion, I had read about the windiest town on earth, it’s in the Shetland Islands and cats blow by, so I wrote my flying cat story called “Swept Away.”

This extract was taken from an interview with Boyle at Identity Theory.

Windy, SAY-tahny regards,

Toni

P.S. A view from the last time I was sitting among sea oats.

P.P.S. Do you think cats actually “blow by” in the Shetlands? Do we need to visit and find out for ourselves? Maybe we can find some good tea there, too.

t’s tea time

Dear Rae,

So good to hear from you!

Why were you drinking Coke during your language lessons? Was it for the caffeine? And how do you manage to drink anything anyway? As part of your “intensive learning” session, aren’t you talking rather intensely? With the switch to Jasmine Green tea, especially the “nicely warming” part, you might discover a properly energized you, a you who is ready to absorb and spout all sounds Estonian.

Dare I ask… I do dare: Have you been able to find C2 in Tallinn?

Lovely tea pot, my dear. Your “new best friend” has a very good eye for assessing your taste—just look at that pot! Its gorgeous texture is yearning to be appreciated by more than just your eyes and hands. I’m ready to join you, the pot and… her. Is it a “her”? It must be a “her.” Only “hers” are so good at gifting comfort items. Well, minus your “her” in Tallahassee. Sorry. I’ll try to remember next time.

Your “tea dealer.” Hmm. I understand. I’ve got a candy dealer. Dentist too. I can’t promise you “more on that later”—candy man is under wraps. Do share more about your own particular dealer; I’m most curious. Is he coming to your place? I completely understand your need to accessorize. Does YK know about this relationship?

The paraphernalia of a single hard core tea drinker: water-stained kettle, coffee mug from my (used to be “our”) favorite hang-out-and-chill joint, baggie of black tea (see string?), spoon, spice mix (I make my own masala these days, but when I’m lazy, this does the trick.), whole organic milk (full fat for richness), and sugar to taste.

Do you like how I’m hiding behind the flash? The white object reflected on the right side of the pot is Angel’s penthouse. Nice capture, eh? My fated husband (should he materialize during this lifetime), will win my heart by promising to keep my kettle shiny. I do not seem to have the patience nor the elbow grease necessary to keep it looking presentable for company. Oh, and this kettle is the only tea pot in my possession. (Like to keep things simple.) I got it at a store on Broadway, near Prince Street, in New York for less than five dollars a couple of years ago. If you’re gifting any time soon, keep stationery in mind—the pen pals I’ve made through Postcrossing have me fairly busy.

Rae, unless I’m off gallivanting (i.e., traveling), I drink at least five cups of the same generic black tea every day. The only other “varietal” I’ve “gotten into” is Assam tea—a black tea. This indulgence came after having one of the best cups of cha (Punjabi for “tea”) on the day I was chased by a frightened bull elephant while in the back of a white maruti jeep whose driver couldn’t make a fast enough getaway for his or my good comfort. (Hey, I didn’t scare the elephant! He was frightened and very confused by the controlled burn taking place in his home, Kaziranga National Park.) I’m not sure if it was the tea itself or my many, many thanks to God for sparing my life that day in Assam, but I sure got hooked on the tea. It’s a very strong (like one’s survival instinct) tasting tea. When I make it—now I’ll make you happy—I use loose leaves.

You and I should visit Assam together some day. That is, if YK approves. (Are we having a Single Girl/Married Girl moment?) Aw-shucks, he can come too.

I went out to Lake Ella yesterday and passed by Black Dog Café.

Cheers Inchworm!

Toni

P.S. I might have a “new best friend” too.

tea time

Dear Toni,

Every week, after my language lesson, I feel like I haven’t eaten all day. The process of that intensive learning saps all of my energy. I used to drink Coke during these lessons, but this week I made a pot of Jasmine Green tea, which I drank with my Estonian teacher. Tasty and nicely warming.

What do you think of the tea pot?

My “new best friend” gave it to me as a holiday gift. I had bought what turned out to be a rather large Bodum pot a few weeks before that’s good for a group of 4+ people, but this one’s much better for 1-2 people. I have two Yixing (pronounced ee-shing) pots that I left in the States, so they’re not doing me much good at the moment. Now that I’ve found a tea dealer (and I do refer to him as my dealer) — more on that later — it’s important to have the right accessories. I am particularly happy that my swissgold tea infuser fits perfectly in this new pot.

I’ve had the opportunity to talk about tea a lot lately. Last week, on Thursday, my bookbinding instructor made tea for the three of us in the shop that day. It was white tea, and she asked me if I knew anything about the different kinds of tea. What most Americans know of tea is that Brits and grandmothers drink it and it comes in little bags. Unfortunately, that’s all wrong. Estonians also use tea bags, but loose leaf tea is more common. Even so, that doesn’t mean the average Estonian knows much about all the varieties of tea.

The way I think of tea is similar to the way I think of wine. There are thousands of varietals of tea plants. When one kind of tea plant is grown under a variety of conditions (different countries, different soils, different weather, different harvesting and drying techniques, etc.), the resulting teas may not even taste alike. Even within a single country, like China, teas are named according to their originating province because its origin is indicative of its taste and quality.

The Jasmine Green I served is basically a run-of-the-mill green tea from China scented with dried Jasmine flowers. It’s not a tea that will blow your mind, but it’s a tea I count on for a relaxing moment. It’s the aroma of the Jasmine that does it for me.

Drink any good tea lately?

Cheers!
Rae