Meal 42: Croatia

Thanks to its unique location, Croatia straddles several opposing forces of history and geography, and of course this is reflected in the food. It features a unique shape, a comically long and thin Mediterranean coastline with a big bulb at the north stretching inland toward the heart of the Balkans. Parts or all of it have been subject in turn to Venetian, Ottoman and Austro-Hungarian empires, which have lent such influences as pasta, lamb, and strudel. And of course it's a matter of geography, with the Adriatic providing for seafood, citrus, olives and other Mediterranean abundance, and the inland favoring heartier, roasted affairs. And through it all, the Croatians have very much enjoyed their drink, taking advantage of abundant  fruit-growing climates to make marvelous wines and all manner of brandies.

To craft this meal I had excellent guidance from Janet, the wife of a longtime family friend, who maintains strong connections to her relatives in Croatia. If I'd followed all her recommendations I'd have made a meal for fifty, so I picked and chose and still ended up spending all day in the kitchen! Frankly, without her I'd have been kinda lost and throwing darts at a cuisine that at first glance feels a bit random, and plus it's always a pleasure to learn about (and recreate!) family traditions. Thanks also to Zack, a friend of frequent nosher Caro, whose thoughts from several years of living there helped me clarify things.

Since a storm was blowing through we had to eat indoors, which was more than a bit warm what with the oven running pretty much all afternoon and evening. (Too bad 'cause it would have been fun to make the lamb in a "bell" on the barbecue as suggested.) Our guests were Colin, Kirsty, Sophie, Luisa, Christen, Sam, and Eleanor.

Pršut, Paški sir i masline | Prosciutto, Pag cheese and olives

I love how when words jump between languages, they tend to conform to the familiar sounds and patterns of the tongues of those who pronounce them. Never one to pass up an opportunity to explore a culinary angle, I wrote a paper for phonology class in college called "Holy Guacamole" about American English pronunciation of Mexican Spanish food names. Well, the morphing of the Italian prosciutto into the Croatian pršut is a textbook example: just as the word comes roughly from the Latin for "that which has had the moisture expunged," so have the Croatians compressed things by halving the number of letters and removing a syllable. Perhaps if I ever tackle the same topic again, I'll name the paper "In Pršut of Happiness."

Anyway. Along with the lovely slices of dry-cured ham, we nibbled on olives, but the star of this appetizer show was truly the cheese. Paški sir comes from the isle of Pag, where a salty dry wind stunts the growth of all but the hardiest of little shrubs, and the sheep that nibble on them make some sort of awesome milk that becomes this excellent cheese. Its texture is somewhere between aged cheddar and parmesan, and the flavor is delightfully rich. It ain't cheap, but if you see it at your cheesemonger it's a worthwhile indulgence.

Pogača | Rich hearth bread | Recipe

This is the first bread I've ever made that a friend has offered to pay me to bake again, so you don't have to take my word that it turned out fantastically. It's a pretty rich one, with milk, sour cream, butter, and egg, all baked in a dutch oven. The soft sweetness was a great foil for the salty and dense appetizers. If we had any left I'd love to try making French toast or bread pudding with it, but alas, it's all gone. (Note that if you make it, the dough will be rather goopy when you're done mixing. Resist the urge to add more flour, 'cause it turned out great.)

Vino i rakije | Wine and brandies

"How do you say cheers?" "Živeli!" "Do we sip it?" "No, take the whole shot!" And with that short conversation, we learned the basics of Croatian drinking from Christen, who's spent some time there. Unfortunately we couldn't find the travarica herbal liqueur that Janet recommended. However, we had plenty of brandy on hand from our cascading drinking around the Balkans: the šljivovica (plum) and rakija (grape) brandies were left over from the Bosnian meal, and we bought some extra šljivovica from Czech Republic anticipating (correctly) that we'd have some left over for that upcoming meal. We also enjoyed plenty of Croatian wines; the white mixed with seltzer to make what's known as gemist, while we enjoyed the red on its own — turns out that the main grape of Croatia is almost identical to Zinfandel!

Pečena janjetina | Roast lamb | Recipe

The recipe calls for cooking this dish under a bell-like lid that holds coals, but I just didn't have one of those, although Janet suggested we could use a terra cotta pot. But since it was storming, I went the easier way, re-using the dutch oven from the bread and cooking the lamb. The pot wasn't big enough for the whole leg so I cut it into pieces, and with it added potatoes, tomatoes, apples, onions, rosemary, and wine. I mighta overcooked it a bit, but it was sure tasty.

Mlinci |(what I call) Brothcrackers | Recipe 

Why you don't see this genius dish in more cuisines is beyond me. It's so simple, cheap, efficient, and tasty. You make dough from flour, water and a little bit of egg, roll it out, bake it into crackers, soak it in a bit of water, and then bake it in the juices from whatever meat you just cooked. It's kind of like the tastiest napkin imaginable. Heck, I could even see scrambling up the leftovers with eggs like matzo brei or migas. Mmm.

Salata od hobotnice | Octopus salad | Recipe

There were very clear pro- and anti-octopus factions at the table, so rather than mix these adorable/horrifying creatures straight into the salad, we made it separate and guests were free to add the octopus if they wished. The recipe does call for big rather than baby, but this is what the fishmonger in Astoria had so I rolled with it. Probably took about an hour and a half of simmering, which is less than a big thick guy would have taken. I love the taste and texture, you may not.

Blitva | Chard and potatoes | Recipe

Simple, tasty, healthy. Really nothing more than potatoes and chard boiled in seasoned water and drizzled with quality olive oil. Especially tasty with veggies straight from the farmer's market. Will probably make again!

Štrudla s jabukama | Apple strudel | Recipe at end

 
I have eaten my share of turnovers, tartes tatin, and other apple pastries, and I declare without hesitation that this is the best I've tasted. Is it the unseasonably early apples from the farmers market, or the lovingly preserved family recipe (read below!), or Kirsty's careful preparation, or the even heating thanks to the pizza stone in the bottom of the oven and the Silpat mat under the pastry? Probably all of the above, and what a wonderful result. The novelty for me in this recipe was the layers of breadcrumbs between the sheets of filo, which I'm guessing serves to keep the layers a bit more separate and help them crisp up all the more. This was just great.

Macerated cherries

This is, quite literally, the cherry on top, where it all comes full circle. In the reversal of naming of the ham, it turns out that what we know as the maraschino cherry, by way of Italian, actually comes from Croatia, where it's called maraska and is actually a small sour cherry. Today's fake sugary red confection is a far cry from the original, which was steeped in liquor. Well, I couldn't find sour cherries easily, but I did get my hands on a few pounds of Bings and a bottle of kirschwasser cherry liqueur. I pretty much just mixed the two, plus well over a cup of sugar, shook it daily for the first few days, and waited. After a week it wasn't great, but two more weeks and wowza. Sweet enough for dessert, subtle enough to merit eating many, and definitely boozy enough to be fun! If you enjoy making cocktails, I recommend you macerate some cherries of your own.

We enjoyed the meal to the surprisingly diverse sounds of Croatian music, from traditional ballads to hip-hop to straight up punk pop. And with that, we're taking a wee break from the pattern, and next week we've got a bit of an Olympic surprise!

Photos by Laura Hadden, who broke her rule of openmindedness and refused to try the octopus.

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Apple Strudel Recipe from Janet Garvin 

This recipe is one of our family’s most highly treasured, since it was made often by my grandmother. Strudel displays the influence of the Austrian Empire on Croatia. Traditionally, the dough for this strudel is homemade—an eggy, elastic dough that is gradually stretched out on top of a white tablecloth until it covers the entire surface of a dining table about four feet across, and is translucent. This takes time. I did it once with my mother, and the results were worth it. On every other occasion I have made strudel, however, I have used packaged filo dough, which works well. This is my grandmother’s recipe, and the results are light, flavorful, exquisite when served at room temperature:

1 lb. filo dough 4 cups thinly sliced apples—my mom wrote in her copy of the recipe that you can use almost any kind—she recommends Granny Smith 1 cup sugar ½ cup raising—I like golden ½ cup toasted bread crumbs 1 tsp. cinnamon ½ tsp. nutmeg lemon zest—as much as you like (it is a very good addition) 1 cup of chopped almonds or walnuts—we prefer walnuts 1 small table cloth or large tea towel

Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Melt butter and keep warm. Mix apples, raisins, lemon zest, nuts, cinnamon and nutneg. Remove 3 sheets of filo dough, one at a time. Cover remaining filo with a damp cloth. Place one dough square on the table cloth, being careful not to break or introduce holes.. Brush butter over the surface and sprinkle with bread crumbs. Repeat with the other 2 sheets, arranging exactly on top of the previous sheet.

Take one cup of fruit mixture and arrange evenly along the width of and edge of the stacked dough squares nearest you, to within 2 inches of each end. Raise one end of the cloth, causing the dough to roll up and over the fruit. Continue raising the cloth, causing the dough to foll over and around the fruit, jelly-roll fashion. When a complete roll is achieved, crimp the ends of the roll to prevent the fruit from falling out. Using the cloth to support the roll during transfer, place it on a greased cookie sheet. (Note: When I make this I use Silpat silicone baking sheet liners, which work beautifully. The strudel browns and nothing sticks.) Cover the roll with a damp towel. Repeat process. About 4 rolls will be created. Remove the damp cloth, bruch the outsides of rolls with melted butter, and bak for 20 to 30 minutes or until golden brown. It is best not to overcook. Let cool until the strudel can be more easily handled. It is best eaten freshly baked but may be frozen for a short period prior to serving. On my copy of the recipe I noted a variation I created when I made the strudel in December 2010: Add diced dried apricots to the apples: steep the apricots and golden raisins in a little warmed limoncello, then add everything to the apple mixture.

Meal 35: Chile

Chile has gone through a nutritional upheaval in the past half century. Whereas a few decades ago malnourishment was a worry, now their obesity levels are in the same league as the US. With flaky pastries and tasty breads, it's easy to see where the temptation lies.

For this long Memorial Day weekend, we shook things up by heading up to the Catskills. Our friend Sarah-Doe spent much of her childhood in this big, rambling structure, a former grain mill that her family converted into a home and woodworking shop, set between two streams that form part of the headwaters of the Delaware River.

photo by Kirsty Bennett

Given that we were farther from the ocean than just about any point in Chile, and the concerns of transporting fish for hours by car, we decided to pass up Chile's robust seafood opportunities and stick to safer foods. Our friends around the table were Kirsty, Saskia, Adam, Raven, Dan, Sarah-Doe, Michael, and Julia. A huge thanks to all the kitchen help, especially Kirsty for her major efforts particularly on pastry. And of course an enormous abrazo to Sarah-Doe for hosting us all!

 

Pisco sour | Brandy cocktail | Recipe

Chile and Peru have fought over many things, including territory and pisco. Peru claims that since the town of Pisco is in Peru, only their grape brandy may go by that name. Chile renamed a town as Pisco Elqui to nullify that argument. In any event, both countries produce a pretty similar product, but they whip it up in a cocktail somewhat differently. In Peru, a pisco sour is made with egg whites; in Chile, it appears it is not. The recipe we found had the further improvement of champagne, and it made for a powerful and refreshing potion.

Mote con huesillos | Dried peach and wheat drink | Recipe

Speaking of refreshing, this beverage, which looks like it's come straight from a different planet, is a great summertime cooler. Dried peaches are soaked in water with cinnamon overnight, then boiled with sugar, and the whole thing has some cooked grain added to it like a bizarro bubble tea. (It's supposed to be a form of dehusked whole wheat grains, but pearled barley made for a decent substitute.) We all agreed it tasted better than feared, though for those of us not used to chewing our way through a drink, it was a bit of a challenge.

Marraquetas | Double rolls | Recipe

This looks a lot like a butt, yet it had a great texture and tasted fantastice. For whatever reason this is the shape that Chileans expect their bread to be in, to the extent that specialized machines are manufactured to help bakers achieve it. Luckily I remembered to bring up some sourdough starter, which the recipe said was optional; I have no idea if that's really authentic, but gosh it helped! We tore our way through this double batch of bread, alternating between butter, pebre (see below), and butter and pebre in combination.

Pebre | Chilean salsa | Description

Apparently this comes from the Catalan word for bell pepper, but since I forgot to print out the recipe I didn't know what ingredients to buy and didn't get any peppers, sweet or otherwise. It ended up being a non-spicy salsa of tomato, chopped onion, and cilantro, and whaddya know it was still a great topping for the bread.

Porotos granados | Fresh cranberry bean stew | Recipe

There's a saying in Chile, tan Chileno como los porotos, meaning "As Chilean as beans." Although bean consumption has dropped dramatically in recent years, this dish of fresh cranberry beans with squash and corn is still a signature dish of the country's culinary repertoire. It also very well represents three foods that were enjoyed in the country long before the conquistadores arrived, and just so happens to be completely vegan. If you care to make this, I wish you luck in finding fresh cranberry beans; I was shocked and pleased to see them at Fairway.

Ensalada chilena | Tomato and onion salad | Recipe

This salad of onions, tomato, and cilantro might seem like no great shakes, but notice the technique of pouring boiling salted water on the onions to remove the sharpness. It really works!

Empanadas de pino | Ground beef empanadas | Recipe

The second half of this meal was brought to you by a really beautiful hunk of leaf lard I bought from the farmers market a while back, just sitting in my freezer for such an occasion. It makes for rich and supple pastry that, of course, gets crispy and flaky like none other. The filling was mostly meaty and savory, but with tang from the olive and a burst of sweet from raisins. Yum!

 

Torta de mil hojas con manjar | Thousand-layer caramel cake | Recipe (translated to English)

For dessert, we enjoyed what was seems to have been invented by a stoned teenager locked in a patisserie: layers of pie crust with dulce de leche and nuts. Rather than the very tedious, stir-for-many-hours method of making classic Chilean manjar (that's what they call their dulce de leche, which omits the vanilla that the Argentines use), I opted for the much easier and more common method of simmering cans of condensed milk. I cooked the for two hours, and lo and behold they got that brown hue, though they probably could have gone for maybe an hour longer for a richer flavor. But there was plenty of richness from the individually baked layers of pastry dough, in which we used lard instead of butter for extra crispiness. Wow. The only thing better than this cake was the leftovers the next day, when the caramel had soaked about halfway through, leading to a broader spectrum of textures.

This coming weekend we're tackling China, which is shaping up to be quite the adventure!

Photos by Laura Hadden, who's looking forward to more noshing in the countryside.

Week 3: Algeria

Another "A" country, another meal with lamb and eggplant. But Algerian food does have a distinguishing aspect: couscous. My obsession for the week was figuring out how to go about finding a couscousière, the specialized two-part pot: a voluptuous lower chamber for the stew, and a upper chamber with perforations on the bottom to allow steam through. Apparently, this is an extremely fuel-efficient method of cooking, since the same fire cooks both the stew and the starch. I ended up buying a couscousière, for far cheaper than what's on offer on Amazon, at a middle eastern supply store on Atlantic Avenue, and strapping it on the bike to take it home, filled with olives and couscous.

Thanks to Amine, an Algerian friend of a friend, I came upon Chef Zadi, who provided not only recipes but also plenty of background and even philosophy about Algerian cuisine.

I cooked a big one since I kind of turned it into a birthday party too! I overestimated, and now there's a ton of leftovers. Hopefully I'll get the hang of the quantity soon. Now, to the food, in the order in which I cooked it. I made the first two the night before.

Badhinjan Misharmla | Griddled eggplants with caraway and green peppercorns | Recipe

The recipe explicitly called to cook this on a flat griddle rather than the barbecue, and I dutifully salted, dried, marinated, and grilled close to fifteen little eggplants. I was also glad to have an excuse to finally use my caraway seeds, which I wouldn't have expected to see in North African food. I cooked the dish the night before as specified, and indeed the flavors were quite something after nearly a day of marinating. The raw garlic and caraway and green peppercorns combine for quite the pungent punch.

Mslalla | Marinated oil-cured black olives | Recipe

I am a big fan of Sahadi's on Atlantic Avenue, especially their abundant and shockingly cheap olive selection. Who'd ever imagine olives for $3 a pound? And they're good. Anyway, I marinated them with orange and lemon zest, orange juice, olive oil and some spices. Turns out I bought double the amount of olives called for and only made a single recipe of marinade, but it seems to me that it worked out quite flavorful enough. Sure have a lot of olives left!

Lemon sorbet

I couldn't find any recipes for frozen Algerian desserts, but I figured if they made anything there, there's a good chance it could include lemon. So I found this recipe from David Lebovitz's bible of frozen desserts, The Perfect Scoop. It's so simple: make a sugar-water with zest of two lemons, a half-cup of water and a cup of sugar, dissolve the sugar and then add two cups of water, cool it down, add a cup of lemon juice, and churn it. The recipe makes the audacious claim that it's better than most italian ices you can find in New York, and it's true.

Ghribia | Semolina cookies | Recipe

If you find sugar cookies wimpy, you might like these. The semolina imparts a deeper flavor and crumblier texture than plain flour. The dough was really heavy and sticky and kind of tough to work with, but led to a great result. (Also, this was my first time baking with Silpat sheets, which really did make for nice even browning on the bottom.)

Kaskasu bi'l-Lahm | Couscous with Lamb | Recipe

This is the dish for which I bought the big new piece of cooking equipment, along with five pounds of couscous and a whole lamb shoulder. It took about five hours to make, all in the interest of fluffy, not-clumpy little grains, starting with the tedious but really fun process of sprinkling the couscous with salted warm water and raking it to break up clumps. By the end of even the first step my hands felt smooth and exfoliated, which is kind of gross so don't think too hard about what that implies. Anyway, after several hours of stewing and steaming, with an amusing interlude of grating onions while wearing goggles, we had a ton. It was pretty good although I guess I was hoping it would have a little more zip or spice. Really wish I'd remembered to pick up harissa at Sahadi's! Anyway, now I have a couscousière for when we do Morocco and Tunisia in a few years.

Cooked carrot salad | Recipe

A nice, simpler dish that I will likely make again. Chilled, garlicky carrot spears with lemon juice and some spices made for a nice contrast to the rich lamb and pungent eggplant.

Merguez | Lamb sausage

I researched what it would take to make sausage myself, but it seems like it would be several hours, take specialized grinding and stuffing equipment (even the Kitchen-Aid attachment, which would have been convenient, got poor reviews), and apparently be pretty difficult. So, at least for now, I'll buy sausage. Los Paisanos on Smith Street sells merguez, which is probably Algeria's second best known culinary export after couscous, and it was surprisingly complex: not just spicy-hot, but also spicy-flavorful, with cinnamon and who knows what else. The darn thing made the grill go up in flames once I flipped it over, which was a bit scary but did end up making it succulently char-grilled.

Whole wheat khobz | Flatbread | Recipe

To go with the merguez, I asked Dan and Raven to whip up some unleavened flatbread. We used some half-white bread flour I picked up today at the farmers market, and it was great, definitely hearty enough for sopping up the juices of the various dishes running around the plate.

We enjoyed the main course outside, but it was too muggy and hot to linger, so we migrated inside to enjoy dessert and enjoy some Algerian music piped through Spotify.  We also enjoyed for the first time what's sure to become a tradition, when Laura marks the evening's country on our scrach-off map.

Taking a break for two weeks, due to travel on both weekends, but we'll be back atcha with Andorra, followed by Angola and Antigua & Barbuda. Any suggestions for any of those three would be most welcome!