Variation on a Salsa Verde

For some time now, I've been craving salsa verde. I don't really know why, or even what I wanted to do when I find it, but there was a clear deficit of the stuff in my life. Store-bought salsas are pretty much invariably disappointing, and the green varieties double so. They usually at double the cost too.

Traditionally, salsa verde is made with jalapenos, tomatillos, cilantro, and lime juice. I don't like jalapenos (or, at least, I prefer other sources of heat), the cilantro at the store wasn't so great, and I forgot to buy lime juice. As usual, I was not about to let this deter me.

I used:

• 3 tomatillos
• 1 cup (or so) fresh basil
• 3/4 cup Vidalia onion
• 2 Serrano peppers
• 2 cloves garlic
• 1 tbs olive oil
• 3/4 tsp celery salt
• 3/4 tsp turbinado sugar

First, preheat your broiler, with the top rack as far up as it goes. Now remove the papery husks from the tomatillos, and wash the sticky stuff from them. Now, slice them in half, and place on a cookie sheet with your peppers and unpeeled garlic. Put in the broiler, about 1-2 inches from heat. They should stay in until the tomatillos are slightly charred and falling apart, which takes about 10 minutes, but you should turn everything once halfway through.

While those are cooking, chop up your onion and measure the spices.

Once everything's cooked, take it out of the oven, peel the garlic and stem the peppers. Now, put everything into a blender or food processor and liquify. Adjust with salt, sugar, pepper, and whatever else you like, until you're happy. Remember - the flavors will be stronger once it has cooled and congealed a bit!

Serve with chips or on enchiladas or wherever you might want a very flavorful, slightly sweet but mostly tangy, heat. It also works very well as a pesto substitute if you use more basil.

Posted by maw at 9:12 AM | Comments (0) | TrackBack

Eastern Ingenuity Meets Western Laziness

I bought one of those pre-prepped bags of broccoli and cauliflower and carrots at the grocery store the other day, because it was on sale and because I love veggies and because I am lazy. At home, I noticed that on the back of the bag there was a recipe for a vegetable curry, using the contents of the bag, and other similarly-branded ingredients. I didn’t have most of those other things handy, and also the recipe didn’t look very good. But the idea's seeds were sewn.

Days later, at the Asian market, I came upon the aisle of canned curry mixes and powders. When an older lady speaking what sounded like Thai to her cell phone grabbed about four cans of Bright brand (Thai) Green Curry, I decided to try it. I’ve been steered horribly wrong before, but more often than not this is a good way of picking between brands you don’t know. I also picked up a few other ingredients and, for reasons not entirely clear even to me, later (at the farmers market) decided to buy buffalo instead of beef or chicken meat.

I ended up with the following:

- 2 cans green curry ( FYI: it has coconut milk and bamboo shoots and kefir leaves already in it, if you’re making your own)
- 1 large fresh Serrano pepper (about 1.5 tbs chopped)
- 1 stalk fresh lemongrass
- 1 lb. of mixed broccoli, cauliflower, and carrots
- 1 medium yellow onion
- 1.5 pounds buffalo top round
- Fish sauce
- Dry roasted peanuts

Back home, I got to work: I diced the onion and Serrano, chopped about 2 tbs of the lemongrass (slice into thin circles, then quarter), rinsed the veggies, trimmed the meat, and cut it into 3/4 - inch cubes. I got out my biggest pot, and first browned the meat a little bit. Then, I lowered the heat to medium and added olive oil, followed by about half of the chilies and lemongrass. After this was all nice and warm and fragrant, I stirred in the onions. I let them cook about 5 minutes, till a bit translucent but not all the way.

At that point, I added the veggies, and both cans of curry, about 3 tbs of fish sauce, and the remaining spices. I also added sriracha, but then again I like things hot. I upped the temperature as well, to medium-high, and let the curry simmer and reduce, stirring only once in a while, until everything was the right texture. It was, at this point, still a little watery for me, so I mixed a big teaspoon of tapioca starch in a quarter-cup of water, and stirred that into the curry to thicken it.

I am, it should be known, a bit lax in my advanced planning and very prone to forgetting to do things. Like, say, to buy rice at the store. Or to think about boiling pasta before the rest of my meal is nearly ready. Luckily, I am aware of my own, err, idiosyncrasies, and stock my shelves accordingly. It turns out that canned white hominy is easy and fast to warm, and actually makes a nice substitute for rice.

I garnished the dish with the peanuts, which I ground with mortar and pestle, which I think was a key factor in making this dish delicious. Without it, the buffalo was too much of a random flavor - the peanuts helped to integrate it all together. Plus, I love peanuts.

Breadfruit Sautée

A funny thing about my West-Indian tinged upbringing is that I’ve been exposed to so many amazing foods and cuisines, but not often directly enough to learn to execute them properly. So many of the dishes I grew up loving and still think of as supreme comfort food, I have no idea how to deal with preparing. Breadfruit is a prime example: the sweet, starchy fruit’s luscious perfume transports me instantly to warmer climes and friendlier faces, but once home with one, I’ve always been a bit perplexed. A wonderful substitute for potatoes or yams, the stuff is a royal pain to cook.

Despite this knowledge, the gorgeous aroma as I walked by the breadfruit bin at the farmers market overpowered my better judgment: if at first you don’t succeed, et cetera. Picking a medium-sized, about 1/3 green one (meaning that it was close to ripe, but not all the way), I headed home. First things first, I preheated my oven to 300, washed the fruit and skewered some holes in it, and wrapped it in foil. I roasted it for an hour total, quarter-turning every 15 minutes.

During the last 15 minutes, I diced a small white onion. Out of the oven, I let the fruit cool enough to cut it, remove the center bits, peel it, and dice it, while warming my skillet to medium-high. To the pan I added some butter and the breadfruit, and tossed it with some Vegeta. After 5 minutes or so, I added the onions. When the onions were a bit caramelized, but not charred, I removed everything to a bowl, and deglazed the pan with a cup of dark rum (Gosling, in this case), letting that reduce about 75%. I tossed the sauce into the bowl with everything else, and had a lovely accompaniment to the grilled chicken and spinach salad I’d also made.

Be aware: breadfruit has a very strange texture, if you’re not expecting it. It is a bit spongy, and can be chewy, but don’t let that deter you from this wonderful, and healthy ingredient!

Sprouting

Winter is coming. And if you're anything like me, that means that the color will all drain out of your life, leaving you a sad withered husk of the once-vibrant person you usually are. My most recent solution? Growing sprouts on the kitchen counter. Having something green and growing helps one stave off the SAD. As an added bonus, the quickest sprouts will grow in three days, giving you a much-need boost of almost-instantaneous gratification.

Growing sprouts at home not only gives you the satisfaction of eating them for literally pennies but you can also turn up your nose at the Yes!/Whole Foods/Eastern Market/Giant/Safeway/military/industrial complex.

The pictures show mung beans (59 cents at the Asian Market) which are the same sprouts used in all your favorite pan-Asian stir-fries. Though you can eat them straight up, I prefer to cook with them. If you're looking for something a little more direct-to-the-sandwich, you can sprout alfalfa, brassica (anything in the broccoli family), or mustard. Even the biggest dried legumes can be sprouted, including lentils, dried peas, and dried chick peas. Be sure to pick only the most-complete kernels if you go this route: I had one batch of dried peas go terribly wrong because only about 50% were undamaged enough to actually sprout.

The super-market-beatingest part about this is the drop-dead simplicity. You put in about three minutes of set up time, then 30 seconds a day for a couple of days and mother nature does all the heavy lifting.

First: get yourself a jar. I use a wide-mouthed mason jar because I had one hanging around. That's science. Next, fashion a breathable top that will allow water entry and egress, but still holds your sprouts in. I use cheesecloth, which is perfect since you can just screw the jar lid over it. You are now prepared to buy seeds. On my first-ever attempt, I sprouted alfalfa from a seed envelope I bought at Fragers. Once you've gotten hard core you too can order specialty blends from organic farmers growing happy healthy seeds in California. Part of the fun is buying tablespoons of different random seeds from your local bulk-purchase location and seeing which sprout and how fast.

Once you have the seeds, bung them in the container and soak them in tap water for 8-12 hours. The next morning, drain and rinse them once or twice until the water runs clear. Drain a final time, throw a towel over the container so that no light enters, and run off to do the million other things the day requires. Over the next couple of days repeat the rinse-and-drain cycle once in the morning and once at night.

One day you'll realize that the sprouts are the exact size you want them. Leave them uncovered to green up in the pallid winter sunlight (it doesn't take much light to fire up their little chloroplasts). After that, eat them with abandon. Whatever you don't eat out of hand can be transfered into a baggie and thrown in the fridge. They'll keep for about two weeks I'm told, although mine have never avoided predation so long!

This was written by guest Füddite EJG.

When Veggies Go Bad...Really Bad

From Framebox.de - maybe those kids who hate vegetables are on to something - they're Aliens.

Follow the link above for a great detail shot.

I don't even want to hazard a guess as to what salad dressing goes best with this. I'm guessing something acidic.

Link to this awesome, yet terrifying art found via Dark Roasted Blend.

Fall Pasta

Sometimes, when you cook something haphazardly, and the results are … haphazard. On rare, wonderful occasions, they are delicious and satisfying and worth repeating in a more orderly fashion. It’s October - properly fall now - and my first proper dish of the season was one of these delightful surprises; I’ll make it again without a doubt, and a bit of advance planning will make it even more amazing.

I love fall: the weather cools and the season’s earthy flavors make a nice letting down from summer’s exuberance before winter’s deeper and richer ones. My favorite fall ingredient of all is probably the most iconic, at least in the States: pumpkin. At the farmers market this week, I spied the first batch, rich orange with spiky grayish-brown stems, and bought two. It’s not yet cold enough here for my pumpkin curry, so I looked for another idea. Drawing from vague memories and, as I am in fact still a grad student, what was really cheap, I also purchased some really beautiful beets, and fresh sage.

Come dinner-prepping time, I was in the mood for pasta. How could I make my pumpkin-y schemes fit this new craving? Another memory flickered through my mind, this time of a creamy squash pasta, somewhere in DC, many years ago. Funny how I can remember things like this, but not the names and dates needed for my communications exam…

I messed about for a while, but ultimately this is what I used:

1 medium pumpkin, cut into 1-ish inch chunks (about 3 cups worth);
2 large beets, cleaned and similarly cubed;
1 pound whole wheat penne;
7 cloves garlic, chopped;
12 fresh sage leaves, torn into bits;
½ cup light cream;
½ cup milk (2%);
Sriracha;
Fresh-grated Parmesan;
Olive Oil;
Salt and pepper.

What I did:

I prepped everything as above. Ideally, I’d have pre-roast the beets halfway, but I am lazy so I just microwaved them for about 9 minutes; this softens them up so they can be sautéed with the pumpkin, saving some time. Once that was done, I added both beets and pumpkins to a pan over medium-high heat, with a bunch of olive oil and some salt. I sautéed them until everything was tender, but not quite fully done, and removed to a bowl, where I stirred in about half of the chopped garlic and sage.

While that was cooking, I boiled my pasta, adding a small piece of beet to that pot to make the pasta pink, because I was feeling that cheeky. When the pasta was slightly under-done (just before proper al dente), I drained and put it, along with the sautéed pumpkin and beets, into a large pot over low-medium heat. Then I mixed in milk, cream, and the rest of the spices. As it heated, I slowly added Parmesan until it was a bit gooey, but not super-cheesy (I didn’t want mac+cheese). Finally, I added sriracha, salt and pepper.

I served it with a bit more Parmesan on top, and it was fantastic. The pumpkin and beet really sing together, especially with all that dairy to mellow the beets’ sharpness. I’ve been enjoying the leftovers ever since, and found that adding some chicken chorizo really kicked things up, both in terms of flavor and fillingness.

Peanut Vargoli (Tindora) with Tofu

Continuing my adventures with strange vegetables from the farmers market, this week I noticed an older Indian woman being very excited to her shopping companions over a pile of small, gherkin-shaped vegetables labeled “Tindora.” My curiosity piqued, I asked her what they were and how to cook them. Her reply was that she called them “Vargoli” - the Hindi to Gujarati’s “Tindora” and the English “Ivy Gourd” - and that she sliced them and stir-fried them with mustard seed, cumin and turmeric; her companion added that ground peanuts were a good garnish. They also suggested that I pick only long skinny ones, and if any turned out to be orange inside, I shouldn’t use them.

With all this in mind, I picked myself a bag of little gourds to take home with a fresh turmeric root and a brick of firm tofu. At home, I added my own ideas to the mix, and this is what I used:

About 20 ivy gourds/tindoras/vargolis;
1 block of firm tofu, well drained and cut to cubes;
1 root of fresh turmeric;
About 1/2 tsp each cumin seeds and mustard seeds;
Peanut oil;
Organic/all-natural creamy peanut butter;
Mirin;
Sriracha;

While the tofu drained, I cut the ends off of and quartered each gourd and heated up my cast iron pan with a drizzle of peanut oil.

Reducing the heat to medium, I added the cumin and mustard seeds, letting them bounce around under my splatter screen until they were brown. I then added more oil, grated in about an inch of turmeric, and added the gourds and some sriracha. I stir-fried all this for a few minutes, not letting the gourd get totally soft. I removed it to a bowl.

Adding more oil to the pan, as well as another sprinkle of seeds and turmeric, I fried the tofu until it was nice and crispy on the outside, but still smushy on the inside. Then I removed that to another bowl.

While the tofu cooked, I put about a tablespoon of peanut butter, 2 tablespoons mirin, and 1 tsp sriracha into a small glass, which I microwaved for 20 seconds and mixed into a paste. I added more oil and a bit of water to make it more liquidy.

I then added all three pieces together in a large bowl, tossing the peanut sauce all over. The gourd itself has a mild flavor, not unlike a cucumber bur more sour and less … green tasting. It was really delicious with the peanut sauce. The tofu was, of course, tofu, and absorbed all the flavors like the good little sponge it is. Overall, this was a very tasty dinner which, at least partially due to my laziness and consequent lack of rice, was really quite healthy too!

Sweet, Bitter, and Bacon

In the US we tend not to eat much in the way of extremely bitter foods - grapefruit and endive are about as bitter as we go. Despite this, I love bitter foods, and I’d long wondered about the things at the farmers market - the strange ones with bizarrely textured, bright green skin. So today I asked the girl at one stall how one might cook a bitter melon. Her response: “However you want...I usually stir-fry them or boil and mash them. They’re so tasty!” It turns out that they’re really good for you too - perhaps helping to regulate digestion and improving blood sugar control.

Mission in mind, I returned home with three medium-sized ones, deciding to go the mashed route, as I also had a sweet potato and I wondered if they might play well together. With some helpers along for the ride, they did:

I put my sweet potato into the oven for baking; since I’m currently without a microwave, I have to do things the slow way. I washed and cut the melons in half, scooped out the seeds (which I’ve since been told are good to eat too, but I wasn’t sure, and they seemed rather crunchy for a mash), and cut the flesh into inch-wide bits. I put them in a pot of broth to boil.

After a few minutes (maybe seven or so), the melon smelled so good, I thought it would be a waste to boil all of that flavor away, and an idea popped into my head. I got out my frying pan and added some bacon. Bacon half-cooked, I moved the melon from pot to pan and sautéed the lot till the melon was mostly soft(ish), adding hot pepper flakes and Vegeta when I felt like it.

By this time my potato was baked, so I removed the peel, added a touch of olive oil and mashed it up. Then, I mashed up my melon and mixed it into the potato, stirring the bacon (now crisp and in pretty small pieces) on top. The bacon was, I think, key - its earthiness really unified the sweet and bitter flavors.

The results were quite tasty, and though more tweaking will be necessary before I think this dish is “complete,” I wanted to share it and see what other folks have done with this funny little fruit.

Mid-Atlantic Fusion Bourne of Atlanta Exile

It’s summer, and for natives of (and most transplants to) the Mid-Atlantic region of the US, that means one thing more than any other: crab season! Whether consumed in a violent orgy of mallets and shells or more demurely in delicious cake form, this is the season for the yummy little bastards. The thing is, I up and moved to Atlanta, where crabs are just a one-night stand’s lasting impression, and mentioning “Old Bay” will just get you asked if you don’t mean “Green.”

As is so often the case, my salvation came by pure providence. I had purchased some crab meat from the grocery - the crappy packaged kind that looks like it ought to be fake but isn’t - and was planning to do something vaguely fritter-ish. But, before dinner could be considered, I was headed to the gym, and needed a pre-workout snack. I pulled down a handful of crackers, and dipped one in a fresh tub of hummus.

Lesson one: don’t buy store-brand hummus in a Southern grocery.

Panic-stricken - for if my snack went this badly I’d never have the focus to exercise - I reached for the first thing I could see to overwhelm the sour horror of that hummus-product. My crab purchase had been inspired, of course, by coming upon a tin of Old Bay at the market. It was now sitting on the counter, just before my eyes.

That experiment worked, so I experimented more. Using good hummus this time, I mixed in about 1/2 tablespoon of Old Bay per cup, and spooned the mixture into a small bowl. I fried the crab bits in an Old Bay-flour mix as well. Then I let them cool, dried them, arranged them around the hummus mixture (with Triscuits), and an hors d’ouvres plate was born!

Bloody Pretentious Tacos

Tacos can’t possibly be pretentious, right? Wrong: when you find yourself at the farmers market and faced with $2 per pound ground lamb and gorgeous $3 tubs of pico de gallo, evil schemes begin to hatch. Those two ingredients in basket, I looked around for more markety goodness to add.

Ultimately I ended up heading home with a gorgeous looking poblano pepper and a bag of Vidalia onions (which I go through like crazy, as they are awesome), and started in the usual way: putting my ever-more-beautifully-seasoned pan on my seriously-underpowered stove to heat up. It takes about 6-8 minutes to get very hot, so I have time to chop.

--1 lb. ground lamb
--1 poblano pepper (diced)
--1/2 of a Vidalia onion (diced)
--Fish sauce
--Vegeta

Once the pan was hot enough, I added the meat and some salt, and reduced the heat to medium. When it was about halfway done, I drained most of the grease and added the peppers and onions, as well as a few shakes of fish sauce and a few of Vegeta. When it was almost done, I popped my soft flour tortillas in the microwave (unnecessary if you don’t keep them in the fridge/aren’t too lazy to make them fresh). I removed everything from the pan using a straining spoon, to minimize my grease consumption. It’s tasty, yeah, but I my arteries can only take so much!

I garnished the tacos with my lovely fresh pico de gallo, queso blanco, and a dash of hot sauce. They were delicious, and while pondering this it did occur to me that they were also ridiculous: Bloody Pretentious Tacos!

Taking the Easy Way

What can I say? I’m lazy. I want good, home-cooked food, but I don’t want to plan for it more than an hour (at most) in advance. Also because I’m lazy, I’ve become a bit addicted to the frozen, individually-wrapped fish fillets from the grocery store. It’s not the best quality fish, but bit’s relatively cheap and easy to deal with. Last night, I was pretty totally uninterested in going to the grocery store to pick up any items that might help make a meal out of my individually-wrapped mahi-mahi fillet, which I’d set out to defrost on a whim that morning.

So, I decided to see what I could do with what I already had lying about. (Luckily, I am aware of my own laziness, so I keep a pretty good stock of non-perishable basics lying about the pantry.) Here’s what I had:

4 oz. mahi-mahi fillet, thawed;
Lemon juice;
(Vietnamese) Fish sauce;
Garbanzo beans;
Leftover brown jasmine rice;
A mango;
Coconut milk;
Sugar;
Spices;
Olive oil;
Hot sesame oil.

I cut the fish in four, placed it in a bowl, and covered with lemon juice, adding about a teaspoon of fish sauce. I stirred it around, and then left it there, to consider next steps. While the fish marinated, I drained a can of garbanzos, adding about 1/3 of the can to a bowl and putting the rest away, and added about the same volume of rice to the bowl.

In a small glass, I mixed olive oil (about 3 tbs), a splash of sesame oil, and two splashed (maybe a teaspoon?) of lemon juice. I sprinkled in a couple shakes of dried basil, a couple of thyme, and a pinch of pepper.

I also put my pan on the stove, added some salt to it, and got it really, really hot.

By this time, the fish had been in the lemon juice about 15 minutes (I’d stirred and turned it every now and again too), so I removed it, patted it dry with a paper towel, and rubbed all sides with a little bit of basil.

I put the rice-and-garbanzo bowl in the microwave and set the timer for a minute, but didn’t start it, and then added some oil to my pan, followed by the fish. After a minute, I flipped the fish over, and hit start on the microwave. When it finished, I took out the bowl, tossed with my glass of dressing, and removed the fish on top of all that. Then, less than half an hour after I started, I ate, and it was really tasty.

Tasty, but I also wanted dessert. Hey, it’s finals week, I get dessert if I want it! After such a meal, the only dessert that I could think of wanting was mango sticky rice. But that takes time (and other ingredients)! Again, I improvised:

Cube half a medium-sized mango, and add to a bowl of pre-cooked rice. Add coconut milk to cover halfway, about a teaspoon-and-a-half sugar, and a pinch (a SMALL pinch) of ginger. Stir. Microwave one minute. Stir. Microwave one minute. Stir. Microwave 30 seconds. Stir. Eat!

See mom? Cutting corners really can get you places!

Tandoori Thai Eggplant Bites

Hosting a party can be stressful. I have a horrible tendency of setting a date, making the guest list and sending out invitations, not to mention planning music and making CDs, well in advance, only to find myself in a messy apartment with an empty fridge the morning of said event. As a result, my parties tend to rely more on the right mix of music, booze, and people (and often, explosives) rather than gourmet munchies.

Not that this has ever really been a problem, but sometimes I feel like I should at least have some quick-and-easy hors d’ouvres recipes lying around, for emergencies. And sometimes, homework is not nearly as appealing as a trip to the farmers market followed by experimentation in the kitchen.

Today was one of those times, and even though I don’t plan to host any parties for a good while, I ended up making (for dinner) a dish that I’ll be more than happy to serve at my next soirée. Assuming I remember to make it.

Like nearly everything I make, this was done on the fly, so I encourage people to fiddle with it all to get what you want.

Ingredients:
Thai eggplants (I used 6, which was plenty for my dinner),
2 tbs. Tandoori spice powder (I used Sharwood's),
2.5 tbs. Champagne vinegar,
2 tbs. lemon juice,
4 tbs. olive oil.

Preheat your oven to 350.

Decapitate your eggplants, and cut them in half. Mix all the other stuff together in a glass, and spoon enough of it over each eggplant slice (the inside side, not the skin side) to cover the whole surface. Put that in the oven for about 17 minutes, remove and let cool.

You could marinate the eggplant in the sauce for a more powerful flavor, but I think that might be a bit much, and make it a less appealing finger food.

See? Tasty and fancy-sounding hors d’ouvres in just 20 minutes!

Chipotle Spiked Sautee

I have a thing for hot sauces. Ok, well, actually I'm a sucker for odd sauces and spices in general, but I'm especially fond of hot ones. Knowing this, my sister presented me, as my Christmukkah present, a Hot Sauce of the Month subscription. This month's shipment included a mild selection, Tres Hermanos Chipotle Hot Sauce.

I love chipotles, but I find it hard to use them without making a dish seem forcibly "Mexican," which can be good or not, depending on my mood. Sometimes though, inspiration (by which I mean experimentation born of boredom) strikes, and something yummy results.

Tonight, I was sauteeing up some portobellas and onions, when the whole dish just struck me as d-u-l-l DULL. Looking about my spice rack for a jazzing-up ingredient, I noticed the Tres Hermanos bottle just sitting there, eying me. Daring me to make a move. (Anyone who knows me knows I probably won't back down from a dare)

In went the chipotle, and up went my interest! Here's what I did:

1 lb. portobello mushrooms, cubed.
1 large yellow onion, roughly diced.
1.5 cups tawny port.
1/2 cup Tres Hermanos Chipotle Hot Sauce
Olive oil, salt, pepper.

Add the mushrooms first to a sautee pan, and get them going for a bit. When they're about 1/3 done, add the onions. At the same time pour in the port, and add more salt and pepper, to taste. Reduce heat to low. After a minute or so, add the hot sauce, and stir.

When the veggies are good and done, remove them from the pan with a slotted spoon, and set them aside. Now up the heat, and reduce the remaining sauce to about 1/4 its volume (deglaze if you like).

Serve the mushrooms and onions over rice, garnishing with reduced sauce. Adding garlic at the same time as the port might be nice, but I didn't think it was missing. You could also add steak to this, for a heartier dish.

Out Of The Deep-Fryer & Into The Frying Pan

After another Thanksgiving, I thought I’d ease everyone back into the daily grind with something unusual for this web site: a culinary op-ed of sorts. Recently, the people in charge of New York City have begun a debate on whether or not to ban trans-fatty acids in restaurants. In order to understand the implications of this, it is necessary to know a little bit about what trans-fatty acids are, and why officials would want to ban them.

Normally, fat comes in four types: saturated, polyunsaturated, monounsaturated, and trans fatty acids. Saturated fat (such as butter, coconut oil, and palm kernel oil) is solid at room temperature, and is generally quite bad for you, in that it has been shown to be correlated with heart disease. Unsaturated fats are liquid at room temperature (olive, canola, soybean, corn, and vegetable oils), and while still bad for you, are less bad than saturated fats (although the fat content in your diet should come from unsaturated fats as much as possible).

The trouble is that all the flavour and goodness in various recipes comes from saturated fat. Some enterprising companies have discovered that if they add Hydrogen to an unsaturated fat like vegetable oil, it takes on properties that make it behave like a saturated fat (in terms of taste, texture, and body). These hydrogenated or partially-hydrogenated oils (which are sold as margarine, vegetable “spreads,” oleos, and shortening) are also called trans-fatty acids (or TFA for short).

Recently, authorities have become concerned because of a link between TFA’s and a number of health problems. TFA's have been shown to raise the level of LDL ("bad") cholesterol, while lowering the level of HDL ("good") cholesterol, which leads to an increased risk for heart attack and stroke. Also, there seems to be a correlation between TFA consumption and obesity levels. The federal government, which is in an excellent position to enforce such a ban nationwide, has been silent on this matter, so some municipalities have started to take matters into their own hands. New York City, as the first major city to consider this, is being watched very carefully. Fast-food restaurant chains such as McDonald's, Burger King, and Wendy's, worried about potential drops in profit margins, have already (supposedly) started investigating alternatives for their fried foods.The proposed ban would only encompass restaurants. People would still be able to purchase margarine, shortening, etc. for home use.

As a professional chef, I am opposed to this sort of regulation for two reasons. First is because it’s badly written legislation that unfairly targets restaurants. Only restaurants would be subject to a ban on ingredients that are otherwise perfectly legal to use. Restaurants generally use a shortening in their deep fryers because it’s cheaper to use, and it doesn’t have to be changed as often as oil (and believe me, changing the oil in a commercial deep-fryer is not trivial). As such, the practical implication of this ban would be to quadruple the cost of anything fried.

The second reason I am opposed to this ban is because I really believe that it is not for a government to regulate what I eat. I am an adult, and I should decide what level of risk I’m comfortable with. I understand that there is a large amount of obesity in our society, but at the end of the day, people are responsible for their own diets, and for their level of activity (or lack thereof). What will happen if this ban comes to pass is that restaurants will most likely revert to using saturated fats such as butter, which is why the American Heart Association does not support the ban as it is currently written.

This sort of regulation first started in the late 1970’s when officials were concerned about Peking duck (which requires that the duck is hung to dry for half a day). It then moved to artisanal sausages and salumerias, and now to TFA’s. As a result, a lot of old-style artisan work is being lost. I admire the New York City government’s intentions, however the practical implications would be to shield people from one danger, while exposing people to another. Where does this end? If they come after Five Guys next, then my friends, the terrorists have truly won.

Got an opinion? Post a comment, or send an e-mail to dcfud.writers@gmail.com. For more information on TFA's and their health implications, check out the American Heart Association's web site.

Roadtrip: The New York Chocolate Show

Chocolate is the new coffee, stated the girl across the table from me, and I had to agree. What Seattle yuppies did for America's taste in coffee, and Whole Foods did for everything else, someone, even as we speak, must be doing for chocolate.

When did it happen? Certainly some time before Max Brenner of Chocolate by the Bald Man brought his first chocolate café's to NYC. And well before Lindt declared chocolate tasting on par with wine tasting with its sophisticated Excellence 99% Cacao Noirissme chocolate bar in 2005. In fact, by the time that Hershey recently jumped on the bandwagon with their belated and dubious Cacao Reserve line, the concept was already in danger of becoming mainstream. Where once we had pharmacy racks of gritty brown wax, now for the first time we have solid organic tablets that snap when you break them, and liquor-infused balls of rich, melting ganache.

And that was how I found myself sitting in Stout, an absolutely terrible midtown sports bar, picking at a salad, trying to stave off what can only be called a 'sugar hangover'. The last 24 hours had been spent wallowing in the Ninth Annual Chocolate Show in New York, a testament and showcase to America's slow maturation of chocolate taste.

For three days this last weekend, those willing to wait in the three hour line were rewarded with chocolate sculptures and chocolate cosmetics, and representatives of the Ivory Coast. Demonstration kitchens allowed pastry chefs like Bill Corbett of Dona to show off their chocolate recipes, while the kiddies tried chocolate painting. And yes, there was a fashion show of chocolate clothing, and tastings of bizarre concoctions like chocolate and mushroom bars, and chocolate book signings, and there was even one lone chocolate cupcake vendor, but none of that really mattered because what people really come for is the chocolate exhibitors.

The Chocolate Show is the J-date of the brand-name chocolate distribution world. If it's a small chocolatier's dream to someday be picked up by Dean and Deluca or Whole Foods, this is the place to make it happen.

Some of them already have; most of the high-class bars in Aisle 10 were first discovered here. And that means the urgent explanations and smiles at each booth weren't just from lack of bathroom breaks; each carefully sliced sample had the potential to turn into a business card and a steady supply contract. For a small artisnal chocolate maker, that means a lifeline of money to develop into a larger artisanal chocolate maker, hopefully without sacrificing the artisanal part.

But with so many exhibitors, hopeful tasters didn't need the to be a corporate scout to tell the incredible from the merely brown. Good chocolate should be crisp and flavorful, smooth and glossy, with no trace of grittiness. It should melt on minimal contact and leave no bitter aftertaste. A perfect example: show standout Rechiuti, serving up plate after plate of jasmine and raspberry truffle slices, swapping business cards and promises to talk further almost as fast as they sold their $5 mini-boxes.

At Serendipitea the samples of fragrant chocolate tea infusions spilled out across the table, while next door, Sweetriot waved around signs and chocolate-covered cacao nibs. As the new cool thing, tea flavoring was also the theme at L.A. Burdick Chocolate where a tea-infused dark chocolate sat next to glossy catalogs and small white chocolate penguins and mice. On the other side of the hall, Gustaux distributed some truly outstanding simple truffles, and Romanico's Chocolate bravely touted it's low-sugar version.

Those taking a break from pure chocolate could buy a perfectly spiced fig dipped to look like a pumpkin from John and Kira's, or try desert wine tasting from the ever-pleasing Quady liquors. Not cutting-edge enough? Coppeneur offered small, crunchy cocoa pods dusted with chili powder.

Some of the better-known manufacturers were already reaping the benefits of a larger operation and brand name; the Japanese chocolatiers Mary's attracted an absolutely rabid crowd. By early Saturday afternoon they had sold out of golden sesame and sweet potato truffles; and their black sesame seed and green tea ganache was rapidly disappearing. Behind the protective glass, harried pastry chefs struggled to fill orders of their popular seasonal flower line - violet, Japanese plum, lily of the valley, and iris.

For minimalist quality, the strong favorite in pure chocolate seemed to be Felchlin, with their hand-collected wild cocoa bars retailing at $20 each. Closely following them in taste and popularity, Michel Cluizel Chocolates traded their spicy, full bodied samples and catalogs in equal numbers.

I stumbled from the Metropolitan Pavilion in a stupor, vitamin deficient and babbling of cocoa consistency and flavor infusions. Luckily, there was time to find a salad before the inevitable sugar crash and coma set in.

Much thanks to fud writers amg and jay for being good sports.

Misogynist Milk Chocolate, or, Mine Candybar Doth Protest Too Much

I go to the grocery store almost every day, looking for something to cook for dinner. Sometimes inspiration strikes – top sirloin on sale, a strange new vegetable to try, et cetera, but then there are the rare moments when an item just LEAPS! off the shelf, demanding purchase. So it was today, when I stumbled across Nestlé’s Yorkie bars.

As you might guess, I had to buy one. I mean, really, sexist candy? I checked the ingredients for some hint as to this bar’s manliness, and found the following: milk chocolate, raisins, flour, and sugar. That’s it: milk chocolate with raisins and cookie crumbs.

Besides white chocolate, which doesn’t even count, milk chocolate is the un-manliest kind out there, and I just don’t see how dry, shriveled grapes could possibly suggest anything complimentary to anyone’s machismo.

As for the taste, Yorkie is nothing special. The chocolate is better quality than you’d find in a Hershey’s bar, and I have nothing bad to say about adding raisins and cookie to it, but the result is just … fine. Not something I need to spend $2 for over a $0.55 pack of Raisinettes and maybe a $0.45 cookie. And definitely not something that makes me feel all manly and ready for a fight. A beer, perhaps, but girls drink that too.

Experimental Sauce

Upon noting that the farmers market was charging a mere $0.49 per pound for baby bok choi, I decided that it was time to attempt a recreation of a dish I had a few years ago. The dish was roasted duck breast with baby bok choi in a vodka-hoisin sauce. Being a grad student, I can't afford duck, especially for a first try of a new dish, so I figured I'd just do the bok choi.

A second catch: upon arriving home, I realized that the only vodka I have is of the flavored variety....ew. I figured, "I'm making this up anyways, why not make it up some more?" and I did. The results were quite tasty, and the sauce is one that I plan on keeping around for a number of dishes in the future.

Steam about 2 pounds of baby bok choi, rinse with cold water (and ice, if possible) and set aside.

In a mixing cup, mix 2 parts hoisin sauce (I used Lee Kum Kee), one part shochu (good luck finding this in the US - substitute vodka or sake if needed), and one part vegetable stock. Heat the mixture and stir until fully blended. Adjust proportions until it tastes good.

To serve, you can do what I did, or what I would rather have done.

What I did:
Cut bok choi in half, put in a large bowl, and toss with the sauce.

What I would rather have done:
Arrange bok choi on a serving dish, and drizzle sauce over them.

Enjoy!

Holy crap! Kangaroo! Finally! .!!

It's juicy and delicious! It's environmentally sound and low in calories! Yes, to everyone who wanted to know where to buy Kangaroo when we ran the initial article a couple months ago, your entreaties have been heard!

I swear I searched for hours with no luck, when apparently all I should have done was try the simplest URL I could think of. The aptly-named Exotic Meats store (www.exoticmeats.com) have all the Kangaroo muscle protein you desire. As long as what you desire are patties and sausages.

Now, granted, those may indeed be two of the best ways to experience these bouncy marsupials, but if you were hoping for a long-legged steak, you're still out of luck. In which case, allow me to suggest some antelope, elk, caribou, or rattlesnake- all of which can be provided here. Hey, is that an alligator/crocodile sampler? Well, I didn't want to pay rent this month anyway.

It looks like shipping to DC is expensive but it could be worse- I say group up with some friends and place one large order, then split the shipping costs. Don't have any friends? Buy some.

Update: Between the time I wrote this and the time I'm posting it, they just started offering Kangaroo Striploin, which I think is a lovely, delicate, and most importantly, un-ground muscle (someone correct me?). So now you really don’t have any excuse.

Farmers' Market Finds

It's kind of amazing I've lived in Courthouse for a year and never made it to the Arlington Farmers' Market (which during the summer is operating 8 a.m. to noon Saturdays). Now that I've been, I won't continue to neglect the place.

The market is considered a "Producer's Market", which means all the participants have to have made or grown all their products. And what an array of products it is!

Saturday's trip was profitable. Blackberries. Peach Lemonade. Horseradish Cheddar. Purple peppers. Short ribs. You name it, I threw it in my backpack for the bike-ride home (I'm going to need to get a basket one of these days).

Here are a couple recipes using my Farmer's Market loot. But I highly recommend you check it out, whether you're in the market for homemade soap, corn on the cob or that delicious sorbet that everyone lines up to try.

Blackberry polenta cake
I used 2 tbl sugar and found that I wanted a sweeter cake, so I'm upping the recipe. If it does not come out as sweet as you'd like, top with maple syrup, as I did

1 cup fresh blackberries from farmer's market
1 cup flour
1 cup dry polenta
4 tbl sugar
2.5 tsp baking powder
about a tsp salt
2 eggs, beaten
1 cup milk or buttermilk
1/4 cup butter, melted

Blend dry and wet ingredients separately, and then together. Pour into pie pan. Add blackberries, spread out evenly throughout pie. Bake at 400 for approx 20-25 minutes.

Stacked Eggplant Parmesan
breadcrumbs
2 eggs, beaten
2 large purple eggplants from farmer's market
half a large ball of fresh mozzarella from farmer's market
1 can diced tomatoes
handful basil from farmer's market
Italian spices of your choice
olive oil

In saucepan, combine tomatoes, basil, spices and a touch of olive oil and simmer as you prepare eggplant. Preheat oven to 375.

While sauce is simmering, peel eggplant and slice into rounds. Dip in egg, than coat with breadcrumbs. Brown in oil.

Stack eggplant circles with little slices of mozzarella in between each round in square baking pan.

Pour sauce over eggplant stacks.

Bake for approximately 30 minutes. Serve with pasta or as sandwiches.

Basil/Arugula Pesto
Pine nuts will certainly work with this recipe; I just happened to have almonds on hand

1 cup basil from farmer's market, packed
1 cup arugula from farmer's market, packed
about 1/2 cup olive oil
about 1/4 cup almonds, ground
2 garlic cloves
1/2 cup romano cheese

Chop argula and basil in food procesor. Add nuts and garlic, then cheese, then oil in a steady stream until desired consistency is reached. Serve room temperature over pasta, spread over bread, etc.

From West Marin To The World

One of the best things about having gone to culinary school in San Francisco is that there really is no other place in this country where everything comes so neatly together. There are three world-class wine regions within an hour's drive, there are all sorts of fresh seafood (both fin and shell fish) coming in from the Pacific ocean and the San Francisco bay, and best of all, California has all sorts of farmers' markets where local farmers will sell their wares. Even the local 7-11 carries varieties of food and wine that you have to go to Dean & Deluca to get here.

While I was out there, I indulged in the guilty pleasure of practically every other chef in town: cheese. For most of us, Whole Foods served as our local dealer (really, it is very similar to crack cocaine, you give the guy behind the counter a ten-spot, and he gives you a "rock" of the latest and greatest cheese they have). It was at a local market that I became aware of one of the best cheese-makers in the Bay area: Cowgirl Creamery. Founded by two women that were no strangers to the culinary world, Cowgirl Creamery quickly gained a very good reputation for turning out some of the tastiest cheeses around, simply by being extremely fussy over the ingredients they chose to use.

In addition to a very tasty creme fraiche, the folks at cowgirl creamery make a very addictive cottage cheese (we're not talking Breakstone's here), and a classic fromage blanc to round out their fresh cheeses. As for their aged cheeses, I like the Mount Tam (named for Mt. Tamalpais in the north bay), and the St. Pat, which is their seasonal spring cheese, wrapped in stinging nettle leaves (the leaves are washed and frozen first to remove the sting), which impart a smoky artichoke flavour. Their Pierce Point cheese, which is only produced in the fall and winter, is washed in a muscato wine, and rolled in dried herbs from the Tomales bay coastal region, which produces a complex yet not overpowering cheese.

The reason I'm telling you all of this is because the women that founded Cowgirl Creamery are originally from this area, and they have just opened a store in the Penn Quarter of the district (right down the street from the newly renovated Smithsonian National Portrait Gallery). In addition to cheese, their store here also sells charcuterie (cured meats, among other things), local breads, and wines. Check it out!

Cowgirl Creamery
919 F Street NW
Washington, DC 20004
(202) 393-6880

The Ballston Farmer's Market Report

The Ballston Farmer’s Market debuted last summer, and only had a few vendors. This year, the market is back with many more vendors. The market is open Fridays 11am until 3pm, through October 13. It is interesting that this particular market does not have many produce vendors.

Sunnyside Farms sells organic produce, apple cider, and flowers.

I am very impressed with Firefly Farms goat cheeses. They are some of the best I’ve had, and all of Firefly Farms cheeses have won awards. Besides the cheeses listed here, they also brought two spreadable cheeses today. One is sweet and has ginger, almond, and honey, and the other is savory, and has sun dried tomato, herbs de Provence, and roasted garlic. Check here for a list of stores and restaurants that carry or use their products.

Baguette Republic of Falls Church is also present, and a good selection of hearty breads. They also sell at the Clarendon Farmer's Market.

I have been eyeing Virginia Lamb’s stand, but have not yet purchased their products.

I have tried Old Pioneer’s Kitchen’s Argentine Chorizo, and chimichurri sauce. Both were good, although unlike theirs, the Argentine-style sausages I am used do not contain both pork and beef. I hear that their Mexican chorizo is good as well.

Arondo of Hondo Coffee owns a plantation in Honduras, and roasts the beans in Stafford, Va. They sell several roasts, and the coffee is quite good. And, the coffee smells so good.

Dick’s Kitchen makes and sells various sauces, jellies, seasonings, and chutneys. His “Oh My God, Oh My God” hot sauce was sampled at a gathering of DCFUD writers. I believe that DCFUD's editor has promised an article about that particular hot sauce tasting. :)

Great Harvest Bread Company in Alexandria is at this market as well. I have a friend that loves their biscotti.

Virginia Green Grocer and Grace’s Pastries are present as well, although I have not tried their products.

The market also has live music at noon, and cooking demonstrations from area restaurants at 1:30 pm. Today, 1 Gen Thai Cuisine (a new Ballston restaurant) demonstrated several dishes. They made chicken satays, fried rice, and somethign similar to a vietnamese summer roll. Willow has already demonstrated dishes on two occasions, and Sangam Restaurant was featured last week.

And…I saved the best for last…many of these vendors provide samples. Firefly Farms, Baguette Republic, Grace’s Pastries, Hondo Coffee, and Great Harvest Bread Company have samples on their tables. Dick’s Kitchen has samples of some products, but you have to ask for them. And, you get to sample the dishes that are featured during the cooking demonstrations.

Splendid Competition

Any reader worth her Kosher salt knows our obsessive coverage of all things Splenda. Yet, it seems there are those out there who still do not embrace the joy of hydroxyl-chlorine substitution. How could this be?

Perhaps it's Splenda's dubious history: Two scientists in England were trying to create an insecticide. One asked the other to test the new white powder they'd concocted. In accordance with official Crappy English Humor laws, it was misheard as a request to taste it. Thus, sucralose was born.

As a humorous footnote to that story, Splenda has since been tested on numerous cute squeaky things…to delicious results!

But if we still haven't convinced you, here are some other low-cal powders to dust on your latte.

Xylitol - Also called Birch sugar, this stuff comes from raspberries, plums, corn, and, yes, birch. But to wrap your tongue around this sweet substitute, you'll have to go to Finland, its 'home country'. Also Japan and South Korea, if you're willing to stick with gum. I think Trident uses it too.

Pro: Repairs cavities, osteoporosis, and ear infections, no I'm totally serious.

Con: Wait for it…it's a laxative. Oh, and can cause loss of coordination, depression and seizures.

Maltitol - It doesn't decay teeth and has less calories. And it can be synthesized from regular everyday starch.

Pro: 'Baked goods'

Cons: 'Gastric Distress'

Isomalt - Like sucrolose, it's also produced from sugar. Unlike sucrolose, it has about the same volume too- Find this stuff in Candy, coffee, and chocolate.

Pros: Also repairs cavities, feeds good bacteria in the system, and of course, it's sweet.

Cons: Still has a decent chunk of calories, and has to be mixed with another sweetener to get it to sugar levels. And diarrhea

Stevia - Actually a type of herb, the 'steviosides' in it are 300 times sweeter than sugar. Folks go crazy for it in Japan, but you can also smuggle it in from China, Korea, Thailand, Malaysia, Israel, and parts of South America.

Pros: Well, the US has labeled it unsafe at the request of an 'anonymous food complainant'. As the various lawsuits against Splenda have proven, these always turn out to be actually filed by the competition. If Sweet n' Low is worried, you can probably be pretty sure it's good.

Cons: A faaaaint possibility of depressed male vitality. If you get paranoid about Mountain Dew, this ain't the sweetener for you.

Milk in the Raw. Part 1

‘Th’state says I can’t sell that to you’

I c’n do that…

In southern Virginia there has been an unlikely meeting of the minds on the subject of organic farming. The hippies do it to live a natural lifestyle and to take power away from the man. The far right does it for the same reason they homeschool: ‘ I jus’ wouldn’t put that stuff they sell into my kids.’

Raw, organic, unpasteurized, non-homogenized milk may not be for kids or pregnant folks, and of course, technically it’s illegal. As a rule of thumb, drink without guilt if you’re comfortable eating chocolate mousse; the infection risk is about the same as that posed by raw egg whites (tho the diseases can be worse). This is what we did with the raw milk of Louisa the Jersey cow:

We drank it. Raw milk tastes like a thin, sweet, milkshake.

Then we skimmed off the top layer of cream...

...and yeah, we whipped it up and stuck it on pie and in some coffee and stuff, but mostly, we made butter. Here’s how it’s done.

All-natural, organic, silky, wonderful butter
If you aren’t lucky enough to have an entrepreneurial farmer nearby, I suggest starting with heavy organic cream. Get the most natural, hormone-free stuff you can find. I know Whole Foods has it, not raw but as close as you can buy ‘round here.

Pour about 2 pints...or as much as you want really, into a blender. I found out the hard way that using regular beaters doesn't cut it. Blend on high for about 7 minutes. First it will whip up, then it'll deflate back down and start getting all grainy-looking.

Bacteria 4 U

Where oh where did American yogurt go so wrong? How come mostly all that is sold is a uber-sweet fruit flavored cup of gelatin-filled pudding or chalky-thin no-fat Dannon plain? Whatever happened to tangy, creamy, healthy, dairy fresh-tasting yogurt? Like the kind that is sold in every store in Europe?

Happily, about a year ago I suddenly became aware of Greek yogurt. Where it was before that I have no idea. I had never heard of it and then ... it was everywhere, in every Whole Foods, natural foods store, Trader Joe's and upscale grocery. It comes in full fat, 2%, and no-fat tubs, not individual serve cups, and (I swear this is not a prepaid ad) is called Fage Total Greek yogurt brand. It is supposed to be the #1 brand actually sold in Greece. There is no excuse to ever buy the thin chalky or yucky sweet stuff again. Ever.

First of all Fage yogurt still has all the active microorganisms that commercial yogurt manages to kill in the processing. You know, the stuff that originally made yogurt a (maybe THE) original Health Food. Now Dannon its promoting its (fruit filled, sugary) Activa brand - yippee, big deal. Its hook is that one of Dannon's huge line is actually what is supported to be - yogurt that still has live acidophilus bacteria to support and maintain a healthy digestive tract.

Second, Total is VERY thick and very creamy. It is an excellent substitute for sour cream, thin cream cheese, or even mayo in many recipes. If you want sweet or fruity just add some jam or sugar (try brown - lovely!) Their website does list fruit-flavored ones but I've never seen any except the plain, so maybe they are sold only in Greece. I actually like the full-fat but the others are much superior to other low or no-fat yogurt. Truly delicious. Wish I knew how to say that in Greek.

BTW, Trader Joe's does have a line of its own of Greek and also what they call Mediterranean yogurt. Not bad -- but not as good as Fage Total. Sorry Joe.

This post is by bacteria activist and guest blogger MHF

Ask a Chef: Better Burgers, Beef, and Veal

Doug asks: Why it is that my burgers never turn out to be "restaurant quality" when I grill?

Chef Yaneev writes: This, actually, is a very common question. Generally, people who have burgers that aren't quite what they expected tend to make one of two mistakes. They're either making their patties too big (which is bad because by the time the middle of the patty is cooked to temperature, the outside is charred beyond belief – a good burger should be no more than three-quarters of an inch thick), or they're using beef that is too lean (see the tip in my last post about fat).

Joanne asks: Is it necessary to sear meat in hot fat before stewing or braising it in broth or water?

Chef Yaneev writes: Many chefs have different reasons for doing this (or not doing it). One common answer is that this "locks in the juices." Unfortunately, that's not true. The reason that those chefs who opt to sear meat do so is because searing meat gets the outside of the meat hot enough to brown, which adds flavour. Any food cooked solely in water or broth never gets hotter than the boiling point of water (212 degrees Farenheit at sea level). Browning in fat allows the outside of the meat to reach much higher temperatures - usually 300 to 500 degrees. Those high temperatures quickly create intense flavours, rich brown colours, and crackling crusts. This is due to a chemical reaction called the Maillard reaction, where carbohydrates react chemically with amino compounds in proteins to create browning, deeper flavours, and great aromas. Personally, I always sear meat before stewing or braising it. Some chefs disagree, but hey, the flavour difference is certainly there.

Rob asks: If veal is essentially young beef, shouldn't it be thought of as a more tender "cut" (i.e. more suitable for drier cooking methods)? Why is it that almost every recipe I've seen for veal involves moist cooking methods?

Chef Yaneev writes: Have you ever noticed that at a lot of restaurants, veal isn't really done right, and winds up tasting like you're eating a tire? That's because they usually use drier cooking methods. Veal has a high proportion of connective tissue to muscle fiber because the young animal has not had time to put on extra weight. However, because it's a young animal, veal's connective tissue is more soluble than that in beef. Cooking veal with moisture (i.e. a moist cooking method) therefore makes sense because it allows that connective tissue to soften.

Got a food question you'd like me to answer? Send them into to dcfud.writers@gmail.com, and I'll answer them in my Ask a Chef column.