Cevapci

As most of you know, I hit the dusty trail last summer. My first destination was New York to see family and friends, bookended by Switzerland for the same reason. But the middle was reserved for a region of the world perpetually on the receiving end of my intrigue and fascination: the Balkans.

I grew up in an immigrant church with a fair amount of Yugoslavians, so the people and culture were quite familiar. I can’t tell you how many jokes we had about moussaka and the colon, or how many times I was dared to yell the Serbian word for diarrhea. But it wasn’t until I moved to Europe that I grasped just how alluring the Adriatic coast was. The civil unrest had ended and the former Yugoslavia was in repair. I knew that I wanted to experience it before a) it got too expensive and b) the rest of the world discovered this slice of paradise, again. 

Although it happened much later than planned, my big chance finally came last summer. We spent weeks traveling from Slovenia all the way down the coast of Croatia and eventually into Bosnia-Herzegovina. The panorama was breathtaking, especially the carved stone beaches jutting into the Adriatic Sea and the ancient cities surrounded by walls. But, and I say this with much disappointment, the food was quite forgettable.

It wasn’t until a few weeks ago that an article in the Times -- “The Balkan Burger Unites All Factions” -- jogged my memory.

We were on the island of Korcula, a luxurious little paradise known for being Marco Polo’s birthplace, and couldn't imagine sitting down to one more plate of mediocre pasta or pizza. So we went to Kristina, our sobe owner’s daughter, for some dinner advice. She explained that the restaurants are left for tourists since most natives grow/make just about everything they eat (bread, wine, vegetables, etc.). But if there’s one thing that gets them out, it’s Cevapcici.  

So we immediately found a stand offering these beloved ground meat sandwiches for about 4 bucks, the same price as the average espresso. We watched the woman behind the counter hand-form over a dozen finger-shaped sausages and put them on a large grill to sizzle. When she asked about condiments, we requested everything, plus an extra slathering of Ajvar, a mouthwatering spread made from red peppers, eggplant and chili. Along with plenty of salad fixings and a large, flat bun, this Balkan burger turned out to be our tastiest meal by far.

I’m so glad that Julia Moskin divulged where to get a cevapi-fix this side of the Atlantic. I know exactly what I'll be doing on my next trip to New York.

  

 

African Peanut Soup with Chicken

I can’t precisely remember what led me to make this peanut soup. I think I was cruising through food blog space and saw Gluten-Free Girl’s post on Marcus Samuelsson’s new book, The Soul of a New Cuisine, and that mouth-watering photo of those squash and apple fritters. Ever since I’ve had African-inspired food on the brain.

I don’t know about you but I always think peanut stews when I think African cuisine. Mark Bittman contributed one such recipe in his Minimalist column last June in the New York Times so I thought that would be a good place to start. After reading through a handful of other recipes, I came up with the following version – a smoother textured soup with a spicier kick.  

This is delicious hot off the stove but even better reheated the next day.   

African Peanut Soup with Chicken
More of a stew, this thick, flavorful soup goes well with a scoop of brown rice. 

3 tablespoons peanut oil, divided
1 pound skinless, boneless chicken breasts or thighs, cut into chunks
Salt and pepper
½ tablespoon curry powder
1 onion, chopped
1 tablespoon minced garlic
2 teaspoons minced fresh ginger
1 jalapeño, diced
½ teaspoon cayenne pepper
4 cups chicken stock
28 oz can whole plum tomatoes
1 pound yams (1 large or 2 small), peeled and diced
1/3 cup crushed, roasted peanuts
1/3 cup natural peanut butter
1 bunch kale, washed, stems removed and cut into ribbons 

In a large pot over medium heat, heat 2 tablespoon peanut oil until hot. Add chicken pieces and season with salt and pepper. Cook, stirring occasionally, until no longer pink and just beginning to color, 6-8 minutes. Remove to a plate and set aside.
 
In the same pot over medium heat, add remaining 1 tablespoon of oil. Add curry powder and cook, stirring constantly, for 1 minute. Add onions and cook for 4 minutes more. Add the garlic, ginger, jalapeño and cayenne and continue cooking for 2 more minutes. Add the stock, entire can of tomatoes and the diced yam. Bring to a boil then reduce heat, cover and simmer until tender, about 20 minutes.
 
Working in batches, transfer the soup to a food processor or blender and pulse, leaving it with a bit of texture. Return soup to pot and add chicken pieces along with any juices collected on the plate plus 1/3 cup crushed peanuts. Cover and simmer over low for 10 minutes. 
 
Swirl in 1/3 cup peanut butter until dissolved. Stir in kale, cover and let simmer on low for 10 minutes or until kale is tender.
 
Season to taste. Serve hot garnished with crushed peanuts and freshly chopped cilantro or green scallions.

Nude Food's Got a New Kitchen

Wow, it’s been a long time. Not only was I a.w.o.l. during the holiday season (overseas again), but I was incommunicado for a length of time beforehand. This I blame on moving. Yep, we finally said adios to the University District and heeell-o to Capitol Hill. Not only do we finally have some peace and quiet (not many drunk 19 year olds partying at 4am on a Tuesday in this neck of the woods), but NudeFood scored a new kitchen!

And I’m in love.

It’s super spacious with a gas stove-containing island that was made for entertaining. It has built-in spice racks, a marble-topped work surface, track lighting and lots of windows. And did I mention a gas range?! Agghhhhh!

There is, however, one point of contention. The oven is the old-school sort with a teeny, tiny little broiler drawer in the bottom. As the New York Times so aptly pointed out, the broiler is under appreciated by most people, an unsung hero of sorts. For years it was my preferred method for making toast, steaks, baked eggs (that one's gonna hurt) and fish. Well, they say change is good so I’ll embrace this as a chance to perfect the pan-sear-then-finish-off-in-the-oven-steak and, well, probably buy a toaster. It’s all good.

Needless to say, I’m thrilled to be back. All boxes have been unpacked, all items have found a home, and all suitcases have been tucked away in the basement. So be on the lookout for lots of (non-broiler) recipes coming out of NudeFood’s new cucina in 2010. I think it will be a splendid year.

Brunch at Tilth

While I've been back from my vacation for over a week, I left little slivers of my heart in each place we visited. For over a month, my biggest questions involved what to eat, whether to go swimming and red or white. Needless to say, the transition back to the real world was inevitable bus nonetheless challenging.

In an attempt to lessen the blow, we treated ourselves to brunch at Tilth, an organically certified restaurant in Seattle's Wallingford neighborhood serving New American cuisine out of a renovated craftsman home. Maria Hines, the executive chef and owner, not only received a 2009 James Beard award, her restaurant has been the recipient of national attention (Tilth was named one of the top 10 best new restaurants in the country by the New York Times).

I hadn't been to Tilth in quite some time and was eager to check out the ever-changing seasonal menu. From past experience, I knew that the Croque Monsieur -- served with a side of baby lettuces -- was divine, but the Russet Potato "Risotto," Dungeness Crab Fritatta and the Slow Cooked St. Judes Albacor Tuna were also entirely alluring. This is when our server came to the rescue. She answered all questions honestly, described each dish knowledgably and offered graceful suggestions. With her help, I knew that the Baked Dutch Blueberry Pancake with blueberry compote and farmer's cheese had my name all over it.

Typically, I am not one to order anything sweet in the morning (pancakes, french toast, waffles, scones... no thank you) but this concoction was extraordinary. The pancake itself, which puffs during baking and quickly settles into custardy goodness, was creamy and eggy in the middle and thin and crispy around the edges. The blueberry compote was beyond typical - it was almost buttery with the slightest tang of lemon. If there were one thing I could change, it would be to receive a heftier dollop of that smooth, creamy farmer's cheese. What a perfectly-matched compliment. (On a side note, even their drip coffee tastes uncommonly good -- the secret lies in local Caffe Vita blends).

A warm, welcoming atmosphere plus graceful service plus carefully prepared, thoughtful food.... life back in the real world isn't so bad after all.