Cilantro Love Letter

Through my travels, I've determined that there are two kinds of people in this world: those obsessed with cilantro and those that despise it like a telemarketer. No stops in between. 

There are actual 'hate' groups that band together to discuss their mutual disgust for cilantro. No other herb sprouts such controversy. There have been no tarragon protests, no rosemary sit-ins. I just don't get it.

I, however, am totally smitten. Cilantro has a fresh, bright flavor that can be used with a lot more flexibility than other herbs. As of late, I've particularly fancied adding whole leaves to salads and sandwiches. Then of course, a pile of the stuff tops every taco. Korean barbecue, Thai noodles, Vietnamese Pho. I've even put it in a vase with flowers, because the aroma is just that intoxicating. It's versatility reaches quite far. 

Which is why it seemed like adding it to ice cream was a natural progression. Yes, ice cream. This ice cream is the kind you eat a pint of in one sitting. So if you are one of the many with a cilantro 'allergy', come to the dark side. It takes SOOO good.  

Cilantro Ice Cream (makes 1 quart)

1/2 quart whole milk

1/2 quart heavy cream

1 c (200g) granulated sugar

8 egg yolks (160g)

3 large handfuls fresh cilantro
pinch of salt

Tools Worth Mentioning:

Strainer

2 bowls

Ice Cream Machine (well, duh)

In a medium pot, heat milk and cream on medium heat until it begins to simmer around edges. Stir frequently to prevent the milk from sticking to the bottom of the pan. 

Whisk together sugar and yolks in a heat-proof bowl until smooth, creamy and pale yellow. Once milk is hot, pour half of the milk mixture into the bowl and whisk quickly until the egg and sugar have been completely incorporated into the milk. 

The purpose of this is to bring the eggs to the same temperature as the hot milk without scrambling them. Because Scrambled Egg ice cream would be gross, now wouldn't it. This process is called 'tempering', which in a nut shell means cooling or heating something to the temperature that suits your needs. 

So, add the egg/sugar/milk mixture back into the pot. Gently stir the liquid with a wooden spoon until it thickens. We are looking for a cream sauce consistency. And don't walk away from it, or you'll quickly find out what I meant by Scrambled Egg ice cream. My go-to trick for determining 'doneness' is this: Dip the wooden spoon in the liquid and pull it out. Then, run your finger down the middle of the back of the spoon. If your 'line' holds without the liquid running, then it is ready. 

Immediately pull the pot off the heat, stir in salt and strain into a bowl. Yes, strain. Most of the time you'll get some specs of lingering egg white, so best to strain all of that out for a beautifully creamy ice cream. Call it insurance. 

Let cool on the counter, stirring occasionally to let off the heat faster. Alternatively, you can set the bowl on top of a bowl of ice water. With this ice cream, there is reason to speed up the process. Once cool, combine 1 1/2 c of the ice cream base and cilantro in a food processor or blender. Blend until cilantro is pureed. Strain this mixture and add back to the rest of the base, and stir to combine.

Spin the ice cream according to the directions that came with your particular ice cream maker and enjoy my friends!

Balsamic Scallops

I could be snarky and say that measuring is for schlemiels.

But I'd be a liar, as well as the most awful baker ever. We can all agree, baking or not, measuring is essential to all cooking. While working in kitchens, you definitely run into a share of snarky 'savory' cooks that spew garbage about how pastry chefs could never be great chefs because we measure. "To be a great cook, you have to just know. You have to feel it."

What-ev. What those cooks don't realize is that they measure too. They just use a different scale. Handfuls instead of cups. Depth instead of liters. For stock, we need 2 onions. When pan frying the chicken, make sure the olive oil is 1/4" deep in the pan. Put a handful of salt in the pasta water. Funny, there ALL measurements.

That being said, there are definitely times when scrutinizing over exactness is totally unnecessary. And thank goodness, otherwise my head would explode. Luckily, my head is filled with chocolate candy so the kids would love it!

So the point of all of this? One of my favorite dishes is tender scallops glazed with Balsamic vinegar. The scallops are seared first, caramelizing the natural sugars. Then they are deglazed with Balsamic adding another layer of sweetness. They taste like candy, and take no more than 6 minutes to make. No brainer. And you won't see any typical measurements for this one. Which means you could make 4 or 40 in the same amount of time. But don't worry, I believe in you! Because you've just got to feel it...

Balsamic Scallops

large scallops
salt
black pepper
Balsamic vinegar

Heat a nonstick saute pan on high heat. Don't have a nonstick? Add 1 tbsp olive oil to the pan.

While the pan is preheating, season both sides of the scallops with salt and pepper. When pan is hot, add the scallops. Let them chill without moving for 3m. Flip and let cook for another 2m. Reduce heat to medium. Do a couple turns of the pan with the vinegar. The vinegar will bubble and deglaze. After 1m, turn the scallops so both sides are coated in that yummy vinegar syrup.

Then eat them already!

Note: Btw, the above cooking times for scallops are tried and true, resulting in tender, medium scallops, not rubbery hockey pucks.

Favas and Pecorino

Patience is a virtue. Supposedly.

But honestly, a growling stomach breeds impatience. And I become much less virtuous. However, some things are definitely worth the wait. Buttery puff pastry. Rich chocolate souffle. Moist smoked brisket. Fava beans?

Oh. Yes. Tender and a little sweet. Unfortunately, they can only be found a couple months out of the year. Once spotted, I snatch them up like Manolos at a sample sale.

This is when your patience kicks in. There are TWO rounds of shelling involved before you can reach the sweet bright green morsels hidden inside. Luckily, that is the only detour to pure deliciousness, as they require little dressing up. And that definitely puts a big smile on my face.

A simple vinaigrette of garlic and chile. Pecorino. A little marinating. Good eatin'!

Favas and Pecorino

3 lbs fava pods (which will yield about 1 1/2 c cleaned fava beans)
1/3 c Pecorino Romano, in 1/4" cubes
1 clove garlic, grated (or minced)
1/2 tsp crushed red pepper
1/2 tsp salt
3 tbsp red wine vinegar
1/4 c extra virgin olive oil

How to buy favas: Favas come in large pods between 5 and 10 inches long. The pods should be green, without black marks, and semi-firm. You should be able to feel the firm beans inside. I prefer to get medium to large pods, as peeling minuscule beans makes my head hurt.

How to clean favas: In a 2 qt pot, boil water with good pinch of salt. Fill a bowl with ice water. While water is boiling, remove the beans from the pods. Drop beans into the boiling water for 1m. Scoop them out and immediately drop into the ice water. This shocks the beans into submission to prevent overcooking. Once cool, peel off a piece of the outer skin at the end of each bean, and squeeze them out of their shell

Combine beans and Pecorino in a container with a lid. Whisk together garlic, chile, salt, red wine vinegar and olive oil. Pour dressing over the beans and cheese, gently toss to combine. Let sit for 1 hour to marinate. EAT.