Fun Breaking A Food Taboo

Most people who know me well know that I don't care for mushrooms. Though I'm not allergic to them, I've never liked them, and I'll usually pick them out if they are in something I'm eating. The only B Spot burger I haven't actually tasted is the Shroomage, which is topped with Portobello (though there are a couple of new burgers on the menu as of about 2 weeks ago that I haven't tried yet - more to come on that soon). 

Shroomage consumed by a dining companion at B Spot,  February 5, 2010.

In recent years, as I try to eliminate or minimize food taboos as much as possible, I've embraced the fabulous umami and deep flavor that mushrooms can give to food. Tree ear mushroom slivers, when included in Chinese dishes, actually go down pretty well now, and I've cleaned the plate of silky mushroom soup served by AMP 150's Ellis Cooley and Jeff Jarrett a couple of times. But there is still something about mushrooms that just doesn't work for me. They absolutely disgust me raw - I can't handle them at all, not even to wash or chop them. Likewise, pieces of mushroom do not make me hungry, even when fully cooked.

So it must have been the Leprechauns at work on St. Patrick's day at the North Union Farmers' Market. Bob and I had already discussed a fish and Kasha Varnishkes dinner. We were chatting with Charlie at the Ohio Honey Co. booth when inspiration struck. Killbuck Valley Mushrooms has always had the stand next to Ohio Honey at the Winter Market, but we never stop there for obvious reasons. 

Kasha Varnishkes is often made with mushrooms, but my mother never made it that way and neither do I. As we stood a few short feet from the mushroom stand, it hit me that adding some mushroom to the pan would seriously up the umami factor in the final dish. We've heard so many wonderful things about Killbuck Valley's product, so, as long as Bob was willing to wash and cut them (and eat them, since I'd pick my pieces out), I was game to try it!

Shittakes from Killbuck Valley Mushrooms

I'm pretty sure these were the first raw mushrooms to enter our house in the 15+ years we've lived here. I asked Bob to cut them in large enough pieces that they'd be easy to pick out.

While I prepped the Kasha Varnkishes, Bob treated these lovely Blue Marlin steaks from BayLobsters Fish Market to salt, pepper and EVOO, and started the grill.

Kasha Varnishkes begins with caramelizing onions in your choice of fat. For meat meals, schmaltz is traditional; my mom used cooking oil or onion flavored Nyafat (which no longer exists). For a dairy meal (or parve protein, meaning neither meat nor dairy, such as fish), butter is the winning choice. So, onions luxuriated in  a mixture of ghee (clarified butter) and Hartzler roll butter (with some Kosher salt) for about 20 minutes, then came out of the pan. Next, the kasha groats, which had been soaking up a beaten egg, went into the pan to seal the egg onto the groats. After emptying the pan and applying more butter (and a bit of peanut oil), I pushed the mushrooms in. Two minutes later, I flipped them around, then gave them another two minutes, salt and fresh ground black pepper. I marveled at the intensely mushroomy aroma, then added a little more oil, and returned the kasha and onions to the pan.   

The next step is to add hot water or stock. My mother tended towards plain water, but I wanted to infuse some additional flavor, so I made a quick vegetable stock of water, salt and pepper, a large oven-dried garden tomato, and broccoli (which I blanched, then removed to use as our vegetable side dish). Once the tomato rehydrated and broke down, I dumped the liquid into the pan, stirred, lowered the heat and put a lid on it. Fifteen minutes later, the pan received 8 ounces of small bowtie pasta that had been cooked al dente and drained. After some additional stirring to combine all of the ingredients, dinner was served:

The Blue Marlin steaks were pristine and grilled up fabulously. We also had fun playing with Hake filet  from BayLobsters with our left-over Kasha Varnishkes for Sunday dinner. 

Bob reports that the actual mushroom meat tasted wonderful, with a woodiness he loved. While I still can't get myself to want to eat the mushrooms themselves, I definitely appreciated what they added to the dish. This is a perfect example of not letting your food taboos get in the way of experimenting and enjoying twists on your usual flavors. Mushrooms, anyone?

Fun Playing with Jewish Soul Food Again: Kasha Varnishkes

Last weekend, I had a hankering for some Jewish Soul Food. We had most of the ingredients in the pantry - I decided to add broccoli because I wasn't sharing this with Bob (who hates broccoli) and darn if I just didn't feel like adding some. Kasha Varnishkes is a relatively simple, straightforward, yet addictive-when-made-well dish of comfort food. Mushroom would be the normal vegetable of choice, but you all know how I feel about mushrooms, don't you?

The dish begins, of course, with kasha, also known as  buckwheat groats:

I prefer Medium or Coarse Granulations, but it is really your choice. 

Raw Kasha

Since this was just for me, I made a half-recipe. So, a half cup of kasha would be mated with one cup of boiling water. But first, a bath in beaten egg. It turned out to be a mistake to use the whole egg for a half recipe; the final product was a little too eggy and clumpy. Oh well.

As the kasha soaked up the egg, and the pasta water boiled, I sweated some onion in butter and ghee, then added my cleaned and cut up broccoli to the saute. If one was using mushrooms, they would go in here.

I actually cooked the broccoli a bit longer than optimal before emptying the contents of the saute pan into the now-empty pasta cooking pot. The next step, which I neglected to photograph, is the sealing of the kasha in a hot pan with hot fat (onion Nyafat would be ideal for a meat meal if it still existed and if one cared about not mixing dairy and meat; I used more butter/ghee). This can take two to five minutes, as the soaked kasha mates with the egg to create a new texture and flavor. Once the sealing is done, boiling water (or broth) is added to the pan, together with salt and pepper. Covered tightly, the kasha then steams for 7-10 minutes.

Small Bowtie Pasta Cooked Al Dente Awaits the Kasha Pan

Not farfalle, not shells, not noodles - small bowties are the proper pasta for kasha varnishkes. At least in my house.

The cooked pasta is combined with the hot kasha and the set-aside vegetables and tossed with more butter, salt and pepper, and minced parsley.

 

Dinner is served, perhaps with a cold glass of Snowville Creamery Milk or, as tonight, an Egg Cream (Snowville Creamery milk, Fox's U-Bet Chocolate Syrup, Seltzer). Yum. Fun Playing With Jewish Soul Food, milchiks (dairy)!