pantry concoctions, #1 - preserved lemon

I am a pretty huge snob about what enters my mouth. I place full blame on my parents for this for feeding me too well growing up. Even someone who loves to cook as much as I do doesn't want to take the time to make something uniquely fabulous every day. So how do I satisfy my too-high taste standards on a daily basis? My method for keeping quick meals delicious and interesting throughout a busy week involves a few master strategies:

1) great ingredients (both pantry and fresh)
2) a "cookfest" once or twice per week
3) becoming a master of sauces and pantry concoctions

I have MUCH more to say about all of these strategies, but today I'm going to leave you with a quick recipe that falls under strategy #3. It needs to sit for about a week or two before you can use it, so figured we better hop to it! (Actually it needs to ferment for a week or two, but I didn't want to scare my newbie cooks too much with that word.)

I know a fermentation recipe is probably a little much for my second recipe post, so here is my sales pitch for why you should try this: First, there are just two ingredients that you might already have on hand. Second, this is a recipe that requires a little "feel," a tad bit of risk-taking, and has lots of room for creativity once you get the basics down. It's a perfect, easy confidence-builder-in-experimentation recipe (thus fulfilling the mission of this blog)!  Third - fermented things are good for you because they promote healthy "gut" bacteria. And finally, I'll be using this ingredient in other recipes - including my favorite avocado kale salad - so I need to tell you how to make it before we can get to those! 

Preserved Lemon

Active time: 20 minutes
Total time until usable: about 1-2 weeks

Ingredients:
- 3 to 4 lemons, the juicier the better (you might not use them all but just in case)
- salt (kosher, regular, or coarse - it doesn't matter), roughly a half cup

Tools and stuff:
- pint-size (mason) jar with a lid - wide mouthed is best but a smaller mouth works too
- knife and cutting board
- ideally: a muddler or pestle, backup plan: smaller jar that fits into your mason jar, or the back of a spoon

Things to know: 
Ideally you should make this when you're going to be home for 1-2 weeks. If this is your first fermentation, it's great to check it every other day to get a feel for how it's changing (though that's not actually necessary). If you're a more seasoned cook/fermenter, feel free to leave it alone for a week before you check it. Once it's done it gets moved to the fridge and can live there indefinitely!

Instructions:
1. Wash your lemons and cut off any bad spots from the rinds.
2. Choose the biggest lemon that will fit in your jar without squeezing it in. Cut that lemon in half and set aside one half. 
3. Cut the remaining half plus one other lemon into wedges, leaving rind and pith in tact. Remove seeds as you go.

4. Ok - the fun part! Put a loose layer of lemon wedges (probably 5-8?) at the bottom of the jar, sprinkle a layer of salt over top (probably close to two teaspoons but I never measure). Now, with your muddler, pestle, smaller jar, or whatever you're using, gently crush down the wedges to start releasing the juice. Top with another layer of lemons, then salt, then muddle.

5. Repeat this until the jar is about 3/4 of the way full. Cut more lemon wedges if you run out. At this point it should be really juicy at the top. If not, muddle harder :) If that doesn't work, juice one of your remaining lemons and add some juice to the jar to get to about 3/4 full.

6. Take the half lemon we set aside at the beginning. Place it flesh side down into the jar and press down slowly so the juice rises up around it. Ideally, at this point you should be able to push the lemon in until the top of it is just a little bit above the top of the jar with juice all around it. If your spacing worked out perfectly like this, put the lid on and you're done! The goal here is that when you put the lid on, the slight pressure from the lid will push down on the lemon-half to keep a layer of liquid at the top of the jar. If you can easily push down the lemon too low, take out the half and add some more wedges/salt/muddle until you get the right height (or see my lazy-strategy in below photo). If there's too much liquid, you can pour a little out (I'd recommend reserving it until you're done with the recipe, just in case). If there's too much lemon-half sticking out the top, you can cut a little off the top or remove a few wedges to make more room underneath. 

too much space at the top here so either add more wedges or...

If you're lazy like me, you can add another piece of pith at the top to help push it down. 

7. Once you get the right height, seal the jar very lightly - we WANT air to get in - and place it on a small plate on your counter. (The plate is just in case some liquid comes bubbling out and spills over.) If you live in a cold place, try to put the jar in the warmest spot in your kitchen. Once a day or every other day, if you think of it, take off the lid and check it. (This is not necessary, just good for learning). You want to keep a layer of liquid surrounding the lemon-half at all times. As it ferments, it should start to smell a little more sour, and the lemon rinds will start to get softer. If all seems to be going well, after a week, take off the top lemon-half and fork out a wedge from below. The liquid will be much thicker, almost like a jam. It should be soft, not quite mushy but getting close, and easy to mince. And it should smell good - different from the smell of a fresh lemon but still a nice scent. If all these traits present themselves, seal tightly and put the jar in your fridge. It will last indefinitely although I'd try to eat it in within 6-9 months.

When using: mince/eat/cook the entire wedge - rind, pith, and all! 

Finished product - soft & salty preserved lemons

Bonus: Flavorings! 
I'd recommend doing a plain one for your first try, but later/if you're feeling adventurous, you can add flavorings! I love adding cinnamon sticks for a warm & sweet effect. Bay leaves and rosemary (or really any hearty herbs) are great additions for earthy/savory concoctions. You can also make smaller jars to play with the flavors (without having preserved lemon coming out your ears). Just do your best to keep the flavorings submerged under the liquid to help prevent mold.

I added some allspice leaves to mine because we have those here!

This is preserved meyer lemon with cinnamon - a delicious combo that I had in my fridge in SF.

Questions/things to look for: 

Mold - if mold starts to form at the top, it's totally fine to pour out some juice, remove the moldy parts (and a healthy layer of the good stuff underneath the mold just to be safe) and stick a new lemon/more juice and salt in there and keep going. If this freaks you out, you can also just toss the whole thing and try again. But really - a little mold just means it's alive! It's fine to remove it and keep going.

Doesn't seem ready after a week - give it a little more time until it reaches the description above - try a warmer place if you can find one in your kitchen. 

Where/how to use:
If you haven't heard of preserved lemon before, you're probably wondering what the heck you're going to do with this. Well - you can use it anywhere you'd want lemon and salt. As someone who cooks mostly Mediterranean-inspired foods, that "anywhere" seems more like an "everywhere" to me! I love to mince preserved lemon and toss it into grain salads for an extra kick - it adds a pop of bright, salty citrus. It's also great in Asian sauces and marinades. I have a ton of other uses up my sleeve, but I'll save them for later recipes!

Ask away if you have any questions and I hope you'll try it and tell me how it turns out!

the making of chocolate, part one: cacao harvest and processing

In preschool, I thought I didn't like chocolate because my best friend Anna didn't. We only liked it in the form of chocolate covered popcorn and pretzels. Luckily this phase didn't last too long. I don't remember exactly when I realized my taste buds diverged from Anna's, but I do remember when I started to truly appreciate the wonder of high-quality chocolate. It was my junior year of college in my "Anthropology of French Food" class. Yes, the class was as amazing as it sounds. The syllabus was divided into bread, cheese, wine, and chocolate, and we read a book about each. For the chocolate section, my professor conducted a long and involved tasting of different brands of dark chocolate with different cacao percentages. I remember her instructing us to let the chocolate melt on our tongues versus chewing it - to better appreciate the flavor and help us savor it as the French would.

In the further development of my chocolate education, I've since taken a chocolate-making class while on vacation in Peru, and toured the amazing Dandelion Chocolate - a "bean to bar" chocolate factory in San Francisco. So, before coming to Hawaii I knew at least a little bit about chocolate-making, though almost nothing about cacao harvest and processing.  

Here at Kuaiwi Farm where I'm WWOOFing in Hawaii, we grow AND make our own chocolate - cacao seed to mature pod to chocolate bar. The process is lengthy, but has definitely been the most interesting (and rewarding) thing I've done here so far. The surprises and treats along the way are the kind you only get when you're doing the hard work of making this stuff yourself from start to finish. 

Below I'll outline the process from pod to dried beans. (And I'll follow up with the beans-to-bar process in a coming post):

step 1: harvest

cacao trees

they're relatively small and low to the ground

another view of the cacao grove

the pods can be yellow, red, or a hybrid sort-of striped variety

cacao pods

some grow right off the base of the trunk!

To check whether they're ready to be harvested, we nick the skin. If it's yellow, they're ready. If it's green, it needs more time. You can see the nick I made in the upper left - this one's ready!

tiny baby pods!

this is a big one!

they come in a variety of shapes and sizes

a green pod - full size but far from ripe

some striped pods

they're just so beautiful!

First, we harvest the cacao. It grows here year round, and we harvest roughly once a month when enough pods are ripe enough for a decent batch. Click through the photos above for more details on trees and pods.

step 2: crack open & get the fruit and beans out!

harvested cacao pods

the brown means some of these are a tad overripe 

milky white fruit coating the beans inside

you can see that the pod's outer layer is extremely thick - at least a half inch all the way around - so our nicks to test ripeness don't hurt it at all

pod with fruit taken out

i ate the middle stringy part

it's just more fruit - I couldn't get enough!

Immediately after the harvest, we clean the pods of any dirt and then crack them open by pounding each one a few times with a mallet. Inside is a spiral of milky white fruit that coats the beans. The way the pieces of fruit fit together in their spirals remind me of a honeycomb - so beautiful! The frothy fruit-covered beans may look a little unappetizing but, let me tell you, that white fruit is DELICIOUS! I can best describe it as bright, clean and refreshing - if you've ever tasted a lychee, it reminds me of that a little but a bit sweeter. Inside the white fruit are the cacao beans from which we make chocolate. The beans have funky shapes and sizes that vary throughout each pod. You can eat the bean at this stage - of course, I tried it just to see! - but they are extremely bitter and astringent, much more so than a dried raw cacao bean or nib.  

As we remove the fruit-covered beans from the pods, we put them into a colander with a bowl underneath to catch any extra juice. The next day we drink this juice - lovingly referred to as the "honey of the cacao" - there isn't a ton of it (maybe three small glasses from this harvest) but BOY IS IT DELICIOUS!!!!!! Same flavor as the fruit but in juice form - light and refreshing like fresh coconut water but with a completely different and delicious flavor.

step 3: fermentation

fruit-covered cacao beans as they drain and start fermentation

Once the fruit-covered beans are in their colander over a bowl, we let it drain on the counter overnight to collect the delicious juice. The next day they go into a banana-leaf-lined bin, tightly covered and then put inside a big wooden box, where they ferment in their fruit for 8 to 10 days.

the cacao fermentation box

step 4: drying

After fermentation is complete, the beans are washed and then dried in the sun for 2 to 3 weeks. The amount of time varies based on sun and weather.  

Coming soon - part two detailing the bean to bar process! Stay tuned!

the most magical salad dressing - sizzled shallot vinaigrette

I dedicate this first recipe post (FINALLY!!!) to my wonderful mom. 

Once upon a time, I was that nerdy girl who still had a lunchbox in 8th grade, when everyone had long converted to the much cooler brown bags. I still remember that lunchbox – it was pale blue from GapKids with an elastic-bungie-water-bottle-holder on the front. Despite my extreme embarrassment to be carrying a lunchbox at 13, I continued to do so because of A) my convictions for the environment and resulting hatred of daily throw-away paper bags, and B) pure function. I needed that lunchbox because the deliciousness toted inside required multiple Tupperwares and sometimes even a thermos. 

I have zero doubts that for the duration of my school-age life, I had the absolute best lunches in the cafeteria. I’m talking homemade wedding soup, chicken & pesto wraps on lavash, mixed green salads with roasted tomatoes and homemade dressing in those tiny medicine-cup-sized Tupperwares that my brothers always seemed to lose. There was always real, metal silverware to eat with. And oftentimes a love note too. 

The mastermind behind my daily made-from-scratch lunch creations was my one-of-a-kind mom. I know that any writing I do about food will always be infused with references to my mom and her cooking. Every time I sit down to write something for this blog, I’m amazed at the way food memories about my family just come oozing out. 

This is my mom’s recipe, which she created/replicated on her own after we had enjoyed it many times at one of our favorite restaurants in Wilmington, North Carolina where we’d vacation every summer. It sounds oh-so-glamorous, but it is very easy to make and SO INCREDIBLY DELICIOUS, you might even be tempted to drink it (only half kidding). Its hearty texture lends it permission to act as a sauce as well, and it's great on just about anything - roasted veggies, spooned over eggs, as a dipping oil for bread, you name it. I haven't met anyone who didn't think it was magical, and I love it so much that I make it almost every other week. I'm confident you will too!

 
Sizzled Shallot Vinaigrette

Makes roughly 1.5 cups of dressing
Total time: about 45 minutes
Active time: about 15 minutes

Ingredients:
- olive oil and/or grapeseed oil
- dijon mustard
- 1 to 3 shallots
- balsamic vinegar
- salt and pepper to taste (optional)

Tools & stuff:
- small shallow pan (a small saucepan works fine too)
- a pint-size jar with a lid  
- a knife for chopping, a fork, spoon, and a soft spatula
- your stovetop

Things to know:
- I find it most efficient to make this recipe when I am already doing other cooking. There is a good amount of down time and it’s ideal to be in the kitchen to keep an eye on your shallots while they’re heating up. 
- If you like warm dressings on a salad, it's completely fine to make this just before serving. Otherwise, I recommend making it a day ahead (that’s what I usually do). It will last a week or two in the fridge - if you can keep it around that long! Oils often solidify in the fridge, so if making ahead - make sure to bring to room temp before using.

Instructions:

1. Peel and chop the shallots to somewhere in between a rough and fine chop. I usually use two or three shallots, but you can get away with one. The more shallots, the more “chunky” your dressing will be, and the more dressing you can make. I like it chunky, but to each her own.

2. Place the chopped shallots in a shallow pan on the stove, and spread them out to make an even layer. Pour olive oil and/or grapeseed oil* into the pan - enough to just cover the shallots. This will vary depending on the size of your pan, but should be close to a cup of oil. 

*Note about the oils: I am trained (thanks to my dad) to use grapeseed oil for cooking, as it has a higher smoke point than olive oil (more info here). Grapeseed oil’s mild flavor is good for dressings, and I usually throw in some olive oil for flavor at the end. But if I don't have grapeseed oil, I make this recipe using only olive oil and it works perfectly well. 

3. Using your smallest burner, turn the heat on low or simmer. You’ll keep it this way for 10-20 minutes, depending on the power of your stove. Usually around 10-15 minutes, the oil will start to lightly bubble. The goal is for the shallots to be translucent but not at all brown or crispy. Once the shallots are soft and translucent (usually when it starts bubbling or a couple minutes after), turn off the heat and move the pan to a cool burner. The mixture should smell warmly fragrant and a little sweet. If the shallots do get a tad brown or crispy, it will still be ok, just turn off the heat as soon as you see this happening. 

4. Allow the oil & shallot mixture to cool for about 10-15 minutes. Then, use your spatula/spoon to carefully scoop the oil and shallots into the jar.

5. Add about a tablespoon of Dijon mustard and about two tablespoons of balsamic vinegar (or about ¼ the amount of oil in your jar). Using the fork, whisk it up in the jar so that the mustard, vinegar and oil emulsify. It should be a creamy brown color. It won’t blend perfectly due to the shallot chunks, so once it starts coming together (or if you're having trouble getting it to come together), put the lid on the jar and shake well. If the oil is still warm, be careful when you're shaking it - warm liquids shaken tend to make a bit of a mess.

6. Take off the lid and spoon* a little dressing onto a piece of lettuce to taste it. Add more mustard/vinegar to taste, a little at a time. If needed (or if you used grapeseed oil), add a little olive oil as well (If you accidentally add too much mustard or vinegar, add a little more oil to round it out.) If you’d like, add salt and pepper to taste.

Voila! Magic in a jar.

*Note that some of the oil will always stay at the top and won’t mix in fully. This is totally normal and fine. Just use a spoon instead of pouring out the dressing to make sure you get equal parts shallot-mixture and oil. And when you're doing your taste-tests while making, be sure to get through the oil on top and down into the shallot-y goodness!
 

PS. Author’s note: I never measure when I make this recipe because I do it all to taste, so that’s why the amounts are pretty rough. Making your own salad dressings is the perfect way to start learning to cook by using your senses more than measuring. If you add too much vinegar, you can just add more oil to balance it back out. If it’s not creamy enough, add another squirt of mustard. I promise you can’t mess this up (other than completely burning the shallots), but I’m new at this recipe writing so please share your feedback!!!