Last night I made soup for dinner, and it was decidedly Gonzo.
I started with a whole chicken that I got from the store, along with cilantro the only things I had to purchase. I carved out the chicken, reserving the thing/drumsticks and one of the large breasts for another night. Into my stock pot I put the frame (chicken carcass), one of the breasts (skin peeled off), the wings, some smashed garlic, a quartered onion, some celery, and some carrots that were meant for salad. I left the skins on the onion, garlic, and would have with the carrots.
Miripoix is a basic element of any kitchen, and it would be good to have these things on hand. Miripoix is made up of onion, carrots, and celery. I may not always have all three, but I usually have at least two stocked at any given time. Those three vegetables are used in the flavoring of most cooked things in your favorite nice restaurant.
So now I had my stock going. All I needed was a chicken carcass, some miripoix, and some garlic.
Now, I don't even know what "Aztec" soup really signifies, but I remember that I saw something labeled as such, and it was red in color and brothy--not thick like tomato soup. While the stock started to simmer and do its thing I started making what I would use as the red-ding agent.
Trying to think what the Aztec might have had access to, I, remembering how much I like a good gin-and-tonic, noticed I had limes. I mixed the juice of a lime with ground cumin and chili powder, finely minced cilantro stems and a tiny clove of garlic with something that no Aztec would have had (not too many readers would have had this either): red Thai chili paste. I have a big tub of this stuff that I've been carting with me all over the country for a while.
To make your own Aztec Soup you wouldn't really need this, you'd want to substitute it for Cholula or Tapatio vinegar-based hot-sauces.
To the lime juice/cilantro/garlic/cumin/chili powder/Thai chili paste (substitute a good hot sauce) concoction, I slowly began to add a small can of tomato paste. This will flavor the tomato product and give just enough life to something otherwise too sweet to leave as is.
Next I started cutting the vegetables for the soup: celery, onion, garlic, red and yellow bell peppers. I even got out a can of black beans I found in the cupboard. It was about here that I pulled the breast from the stock, seasoned it with salt and pepper, covered it, and put it in the fridge to cool.
I got one of my smaller soup pots ready with olive oil and heat, adding the vegetables when the oil was hot. After the onions and celery softened, and the garlic bloomed (became aromatic--smelled great), I added the tomato base mix and let that simmer for only a minute before slowly adding strained chicken stock. I added about four to six cups of chicken stock. This gave the soup the brothy red-ness I was looking for.
By now the chicken was able to be handled, so I removed it from the fridge and pulled it--shredded it with my fingers. I added it to the soup. I then added the rinsed black beans, brought the whole thing to a simmer and let it go for a twenty minutes or so. I garnished with cilantro and avocado that was delivered by our farmer-folks.
A note on boiled chicken used for pulling: pulling it from boiling water should be followed by dousing it with salt and pepper--generously--and covering it right after wards and setting it to cool. The covering will keep it moist and the seasoning will ensure that it retains its flavor.
I can't stress the importance of keeping kosher salt around at all times: no kitchen is complete without it. My choice is Diamond Crystal Kosher. I prefer it to Morton's Kosher, but sometimes there's little choice.
One other staple I would suggest is a pepper mill and a supply of black peppercorns (or white peppercorns, if you like that east-coast clean look to the dishes).
Aztec Soup
3 stalks celery, sliced on bias (diagonal to the vein)
1 onion, medium dice
3 cloves garlic, smashed and minced
1/2 cup, red and yellow bell pepper, cut into diamonds
1 small can tomato paste
1 lime, juiced
1 tbsp minced cilantro stem
1 tiny garlic clove, minced
2 pinches each, cumin powder and chili powder
1 tbsp Thai chili paste (substitute a nice Mexican hot-sauce)
4-6 cups chicken stock
1 can, black beans, rinsed
1 pulled chicken breast
as always, salt and pepper to taste
Wednesday, March 14, 2012
About the Title
"Gonzo Cuisine" is a phrase that was coined by this chef's good friend Mr. Eames.
Mr. Eames described an idea he had to one of his culinary school instructors that was promptly poo-poohed: that fine dining creations can be created by a person with cooking knowledge and only objects found in one's pantry, cupboards, and refrigerator.
Now, that's within reason of course, but that idea--that nice food can be created from the bare essentials--is at the heart of this blog. That "Gonzo Cuisine" was quickly dismissed also is at the heart of this activity: to participate is itself rogue.
So, what follows will be a collection of recipes and experiments from my and my friend's and family's kitchens, me trying to make some nice food with only what we've got at our fingertips. Maybe, fine reader, you may be inspired or taught a lesson from the culinary world.
I, unlike my friend Mr. Eames, did not attend culinary school. I learned the ropes of the fine dining kitchen working in them in New York City. I've worked for Jean-Georges, Johnny Schaefer of Grammercy Tavern, and Matt Weingarten of Savoy. I helped my friend Ben Burakoff, who's now on the Iron Chef's team, open up Wine:30 in Manhattan.
I always felt like an outsider in that world, though, since my "education" was of the old-school type. The mutual respect was always there, though.
Next time you throw some random things together and make something delicious, you'll have joined the Gonzo Cuisine movement, deliberately or not.
Mr. Eames described an idea he had to one of his culinary school instructors that was promptly poo-poohed: that fine dining creations can be created by a person with cooking knowledge and only objects found in one's pantry, cupboards, and refrigerator.
Now, that's within reason of course, but that idea--that nice food can be created from the bare essentials--is at the heart of this blog. That "Gonzo Cuisine" was quickly dismissed also is at the heart of this activity: to participate is itself rogue.
So, what follows will be a collection of recipes and experiments from my and my friend's and family's kitchens, me trying to make some nice food with only what we've got at our fingertips. Maybe, fine reader, you may be inspired or taught a lesson from the culinary world.
I, unlike my friend Mr. Eames, did not attend culinary school. I learned the ropes of the fine dining kitchen working in them in New York City. I've worked for Jean-Georges, Johnny Schaefer of Grammercy Tavern, and Matt Weingarten of Savoy. I helped my friend Ben Burakoff, who's now on the Iron Chef's team, open up Wine:30 in Manhattan.
I always felt like an outsider in that world, though, since my "education" was of the old-school type. The mutual respect was always there, though.
Next time you throw some random things together and make something delicious, you'll have joined the Gonzo Cuisine movement, deliberately or not.
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