My husband extremely loves meat: he can eat it for lunch, for dinner and even for breakfast. And if making a soup with slices of chicken and grilling fish late at night is not a problem (you can make it in dozens of ways to produce different types of dishes for mid-afternoon snack and for after-work meal), incorporating it into breakfast can be a bit challenging; that’s why I’m always happy to find new recipes of toasts, crepes, frittatas and wraps with meat – I know that my hubby will be more than happy to have a piece of it for the first meal of the day!
Recently I cooked a new “meaty” version of breakfast for him: Reuben sandwich. To say true, I have learnt about it only a year ago – which is hardly surprising as this sandwich, being a New York specialty, is a popular dish in North America but is hardly known beyond that continent. There are a few versions of the story of its origin. One of it claims that it was invented by Reuben Kulakofsky who was a regular poker player at the Blackstone Hotel where this dish was featured later in the menu. Another story holds that it was created by Arnold Reuben, the owner of Delicatessen in Broadway, first served it to the actress Anna Selos who once came to his restaurant. Yes, ironically, this absolutely “manly” sandwich was created for a woman!
Another funny thing is, this American specialty is full of typical “Russian” flavours: rye bread, beef, sauerkraut and something which in the Western countries is called “Russian” dressing. Of course, my husband couldn’t but love his breakfast. I should admit that I enjoyed the sandwich as well; I guess the truth of origin lies within the second story – the one where a woman is involved!
Pea and mint is a marriage made in heaven. I have heard about it an enormous amount of times and I do not have any reasons to disagree with this statement. On the contrary, it is a combination of flavours that I use quite often in my kitchen. I mix peas and mint to make a simple stuffing for tomatoes, I garnish zucchini and pea omelette with fresh mint, I blend the two ingredients together to make a creamy puree (which is a perfect side dish for honey glazed salmon) and, finally, I use them to make a healthy and flavourful soup. It is quick and easy, light and refreshing. In February when peas were in great abundance, I made sure that I always have a bunch of mint in the fridge: it meant that I could rustle up a lunch in a jiffy! A bowl of this delicious soup (which can be served both hot and cold) and some salad or a toast or any other small appetizer (I usually go for seafood as, in my mind, it beautifully compliments the flavours of the dish) – and I’m in heaven; in that gastronomic heaven where the marriage of pea and mint was formed!
When I think of typical Australian dishes, only a great range of desserts comes to my mind: sticky date pudding, light Pavlova, anzac biscuits and lamingtons. The latter ones are actually small cakes coated in toasted coconut; I have heard about them for the first time when I was watching Masterchef two years ago.
Two months ago, however, as I finally got my “Zumbo” book from Melbourne, I saw an extraordinary variation of a traditional dessert: a big bar cake coated in what seemed to be chocolate coconut. The cocoa coconut and a sleek strip of chocolate on top were so appealing that I couldn’t but decide to make this cake at home!
It is amazing sometimes to look at a dish that comes out of your kitchen and to try to analyze what inspired you to create it. It can be a childhood memory, a dining experience at a posh restaurant, a photo from a magazine or a book…
I have always been impressed by a modern way of presentation of complex desserts; especially I love it when things of different colours and shapes are put together in a complicated yet organic composition. Imagine a rectangular piece of pastry (or a sponge cake) with a quenelle or a “tube-shaped” mousse on top and some fruit compote or coulis around. Isn’t there a beauty in its elaborate yet laconic look? Recently, however, I got obsessed not only by the general appearance of such a sweet dish but by the idea of making a savory dish that would look the same. Do you think it’s crazy? But doesn’t creativity sometimes border on craziness?
When I finally got the courage to implement my weird idea, I thought thoroughly about every element of the dish. Eventually I decided to make gratin dauphinois as a base of the composition and fish mousse as the element that goes on top. Simple sautéed vegetables and tomato coulis served as accomplishment to the dish.
As my husband saw the whole construction on the plate he tried to find out what the name of the dish is. I explained that the whole thing consists of different dishes and does not have a common name (at least for now). Needless to say, we both liked not only the look, but the flavour and texture of the dish. Rich and creamy potato gratin was counterbalanced by a light mousse and chunky vegetables with fragrant tomato sauce. The caviar contributed to the colour profile of the dish making it more sophisticated, elegant and versatile – just like those elaborate desserts I took my inspiration from!
Eventually it’s March! And it is the beginning of mango season in India! A week ago I yielded to temptation to buy the first hardly ripe, a bit pale and not so sweet mangoes (which tasted good anyway!) and today I was in gastronomic euphoria when I was enjoying every succulent bite of Alphonso for breakfast!
Mango… The king of fruits…. There are so many amazing things one can make with it! Sauces, salsas and glazes for the meat, fillings for the crepes, toppings for the cakes, garnishes for mousses and parfait, nothing to say of enjoying this juicy fruit on its own. Blissful delight – we are up for it for the following couple of months!
Last year one of the most amazing desserts that I’ve managed to make with mango was called “Trio of melons”. The recipe was found in Elle magazine – in one of the last pages which I usually look through first (a weird habit, I know, but I believe I’m not the only one who “reads” women magazines in such a way!). Since I had just got my parisienne scoop (a cute piece of kitchen equipment I was craving for) and was in a mood of making scoops out of everything, the dish was a perfect choice.
The dessert turned out to be very delicate and light: juicy melon balls, refreshing touch of mint, tangy kick of curd with subtle flavour of vanilla and – the hero of the dish: Alphonso coulis, irresistably delicious and more-ish, that brought all the elements of the dish together and made them transform into a beautiful unforgettable combination. I’m looking forward to making the dessert this year again!
At the dining table, when he dug into the salad and I asked him about his opinion on it, he said: “I haven’t figured out yet”. I kept asking and he kept saying the same thing until he finished his whole serve (which already was a good sign). Eventually he admitted that despite all the quirkiness of the combination, he found it to be very good. And despite his uncertainness at the beginning I was glad that in the long run he appreciated the dish – which meant that I could include it in our home menu!
When I was a small child, one of the dishes that my mum used to cook for my breakfast was vermicelli with milk. It was not a thick, creamy, unbearably sweet pudding as a traditional kheer; instead of it, it was more like a light soup with small pasta “worms” in a liberally sweetened “milk stock”. I was not the only kid who used to enjoy this dish for breakfast: it was (and, I reckon, still is) quite a popular option for the start of the day.
Since I grew up and left my parents’ house I have never had vermicelli for breakfast again – I have strongly associated the dish with the childhood and, thus, considered it to be too “childish” to go for it again. I guess I should make a remark here: my husband still sometimes has his vermicelli for breakfast and – no, I don’t find it to be “infantile” about him (it’s actually quite cute, isn’t it?).
Last year, however, I came across a recipe of a similar dish: rice vermicelli with coconut milk and tropical fruits. It was like a twist on a traditional “school-days” breakfast; quite an exotic twist, I should say. Ironically, I found the recipe in a Russian cooking magazine (no kidding – with all the list of extraordinary ingredients!). Since I was in India at the time and had an access to those rice vermicelli (to be honest with you, I use it more at home than plain rice or traditional wheat pasta) and – luckily! – to all sorts of fresh tropical fruits, I couldn’t but give the recipe a try. From that day on it became a dish that I cook regularly for breakfast. With a zing from ginger and lime, with a sweetness of coconut milk and silkiness of rice vermicelli and – with an appealing vividness of fruits – it is now strongly associated for me with Asia and, at the same time, I can feel a warming connection with the childhood which makes the dish even more enjoyable for me!
