Simple Cooking

ISSUE NO. 77 FOUR DOLLARS Hanging Out at & Potatoes the No-Name Eaten with and potatoes, cod forms a basic ration on which man could thrive indefinitely. A Story (with Recipes) —Evelene Spencer & John Cobb, COOKERY HEN, TWENTY YEARS BACK, I wrote a pamphlet on THE STORY SO FAR: On a run-down part of Water Street ,* I thought I had said all I would ever sits a tiny, brightly painted, nameless diner. Alec, our Whave to say on the subject of cod and potatoes. narrator, who owns a used-book store in the row of Not that I thought I’d summed the matter up—it was just Victorian commercial buildings that loom beside it, has that the other great dish that combined the two, fish and gradually become a regular, getting to know the Profes- chips, fell outside my purview. Gerald Priestland pro- sor—the burly, bearded proprietor and grill cook—and duced an entire book on the subject— TONIGHT: Greg—the Gen-X waitron-busboy-dishwasher. THE S AGA OF F ISH AND C HIPS—and while he devotes a whole chapter to the evolution of fish fryers and another to HE FOLLOWING DAY, I ARRIVED AT THE NO-NAME just a little before closing time, and in a very black paper wrappings, he provides not a single recipe. That’s Tmood. Earlier, I had driven halfway across the because, like you and me, Priestland goes to a state to Ruxford, a once prosperous mill town, to place for them, which is as it should be. There’s no attend their library’s annual book sale. Ruxford has satisfactory way of making at home been in a slow state of decline for over half a century, without owning two deep-fat fryers—and most of us, and a good number of its citizens have been fading these days, don’t own even one. Consequently, while the away right along with it. This means that each year dish makes an excellent subject for a journalist—espe- another bunch of attics have to be shoveled out—to the cially a British journalist, which Priestland is—it is only profit not only of used-book sellers like me but also of of limited interest to a cook. antique dealers, who descend on the Congregational So, there it is: chowder on the one side and fish Church’s rummage sale like a pack of wolves. and chips on the other, and in the middle...plain old cod In fact, to prevent us book dealers from trampling and potatoes. What is there to say about that? Matt and innocent bystanders to death during our inevitable I make it, we eat it, we like it very much. But this is such feeding frenzy, the library staff wisely lets us in an simple eating that it would be hard to work up a recipe hour before opening the doors to the general public. As for it, let alone an essay: there just isn’t anything there is my habit, I had arrived early enough to be one of the to write about. Or so thought I—or would have, had I ever first in line. However, despite this fact, as I worked my bothered to think about it at all. way through the piles of books heaped on the trestle Still, stick to a trade long enough and second tables that filled the largest room in the community chances come along, even third and fourth ones. Mine center, I had the eerie feeling that someone had been came when I read a surprisingly affecting passage in there ahead of me. *DOWNEAST CHOWDER (Jackdaw Press, 1982). An expanded It doesn’t take long in this business before your version of this work appears in our book SERIOUS PIG. sixth sense can tell you when a collection has already been gone over by a competitor—not because the pick- ings are slim but because there’s a void that corresponds exactly to another dealer’s taste. It’s like opening a box of chocolates and discovering that everything with a cream filling has been taken. Clearly, someone had shown up the night before and cajoled their way in, by pleading— for example—that they had to take a sick child to the hospital first thing in the morning. CONTINUED ON PAGE 6 Mark Kurlansky’s introduction to his COD: A BIOGRAPHY Newfoundland cooking flash by your eyes: salt OF THE F ISH THAT C HANGED THE W ORLD. There, he describes and salt (where do they get that these days?) and his trip out to the cod banks off Newfoundland in a small hardtack and potatoes. But the real luxury, the single fishing boat. The purpose of the trip was catching cod, ingredient that pulls everything else into perspective, but only to tag and release them. The cod stock has been is that incredibly fresh piece of cod. dangerously depleted, and the Canadian government Fish and brewis and New England fish chowder has halted until the fish rebound, have followed a very similar evolutionary path, the something that these fishermen were monitoring. latter being properly made today with salt pork and Unlike most fish, cod can take the rough handling butter and milk and crackers and potatoes. Except, necessary to tag them, but occasionally one does die and when we think about chowder, the traditional dish we it then becomes the fishermen’s supper. have in mind is made with fresh, not salt, cod. Howev- Bernard kneels over a portable Sterno stove at the stern. er, “traditional” dishes change through time like every- He uses his thick fishing knife to dice fatback and salt thing else. It’s been so long since salt cod played a beef and peel and slice potatoes. He soaks pieces of major role in Yankee cooking, chowder-making in- hardtack and sautés it all in the pork fat with some cluded, that it has pretty much fallen off the charts— sliced onion. Then he fillets the cod in four knife strokes apart from a lingering taste for codfish cakes and salt per side, skins the fillets with two more, and before cod hash. On the other hand, Newfoundland contin- throwing the carcass over, opens it up, sees it is a female, ued to be a major producer of salt cod right through the and removes the . Holding it by a gill over the gunwale, last century, and dishes there that call for it still retain he makes two quick cuts and rips out the throat piece, their currency—at least in traditional recipe collec- “the cod tongue,” before dropping the body in the sea.... Bernard dumps the on a big sheet, tions. This is what makes the fresh fish in Bernard’s which they put on a plank across one of the holds, and version so conspicuously luxurious. they stand in the hold where the catch should have been and with plastic forks start eating toward the center. The dish, called Fishermen’s Brewis, is monochromatic, with off-white pork fat and off-white ALT COD IS POVERTY FOOD. The people who ate it potatoes and occasional darker pieces of salt beef. What regularly were as likely to live in fishing commu- stands out is the stark whiteness of the thick flakes of nities as anywhere else, before the production of ice fresh cod. This is the meal they grew up on.... S and other modern preserving techniques made it possi- Perhaps it’s my Yankee upbringing, but reading ble to bring home the catch fresh after days, even weeks, this passage moved me even as it made me hungry. at sea. Those who were better off looked down on salt cod Fishermen’s brewis or, more often, just fish and and on those who were forced to eat it for any other brewis, is to Newfoundland what fish chowder is to reason than an occasional display of Yankee frugality. New England. The word “brewis” (pronounced That good things can be done with salt cod will “brooze”—hence the old joke about the new parson get no argument from me, but taken strictly as a piece who, offered fish and brewis for , replied that of fish, it is no special treat. And how could it be? I don’t he would be happy to have the fish, and perhaps just think there’s a soul who would deny that while you can one brew) is very old indeed. get both pleasure and nourishment from a piece of However, in its classic form, it is not nearly as jerky you cannot reconstitute it back to anything with richly worked out—let alone as delicious—as the dish the taste and texture of a cut of beef. This is doubly true that Bernard prepared. “Brewis” shares the same with something as evanescently flavored and delicately roots as “broth,” and it refers to a dish of dried tender as a piece of fresh fish. softened with drippings or water. In Newfoundland, Certainly, in New England, by the middle of the the bread in question is hardtack, and a traditional nineteenth century, the poor were happily giving up recipe goes something like this: in favor of fresh, as that became more affordable. This little affected the salt cod industry, FISH & BREWIS which was able to sell abroad the bulk of what it produced. In 1874 alone, the fishing town of Hardtack as required • Salt cod as required produced fifty-three million pounds of salt cod, export- Salt pork as required ing the premium cuts to Portugal and Spain, the worst THE NIGHT BEFORE: Break the hardtack into pieces, allow- of it to feed slaves in plantations in the West Indies (and ing 1 piece per person. Place in a large saucepan well producing such dishes as Jamaica’s stamp-and-go). covered with water. Soak overnight. Put the salt cod in a However, as the poor began eating fresh fish, shallow bowl and cover with water. Soak this overnight wealthier New Englanders became all the more con- as well, changing the water first thing in the morning.

TO PREPARE THE M EAL: Cut a few slices of salt pork into tiny cubes and fry these until golden. (These are called “scrunchions.”) Heat the hardtack in its soaking water almost to the boiling point but do not let it boil. Drain immediately and discard the water. Keep hot. Mean- while, simmer the soaked salt cod in fresh water for about 20 minutes or until the flesh easily flakes. Drain, pick away any skin and bones, and combine it with the sopped hardtack. Serve with the scrunchions sprinkled over.

Think of Bernard’s version as a twentieth- century riff on this, and you can see three centuries of page two vinced of the virtues of eating . In this, of course, Now, little of this would be news to Bernard, but they were in step with the rest of the country: meat, not it is almost unimaginable to you and me. It has taken fish, was considered the proper fare of true Americans. me almost a lifetime to escape the feeling that eating In SALTWATER FOODWAYS, her superlative history of New fish is a form of penance. I could never understand Englanders and what they ate, Sandra Oliver devotes why, when our family would go out to expensive two long, fascinating chapters to their relationship with restaurants, my father always had broiled or fish. She points out that cod, never the prime rib, roast leg of lamb, chops, fish-eating was associated with poverty and Roman or grilled inevitably ordered by his offspring. Catholicism. Fish were undomesticated at a time when At the time I thought that the source of this wild food was not preferred fare. Fish was eaten and ritual was a chastening fear of extravagant consump- produced by people with whom many nineteenth- tion he had learned as an orphan during the Depres- century Yankees did not wish to identify. sion... but the truth may be that he actually loved the Her unraveling of these prejudices is too com- stuff. Recently, my mother and I had dinner at Le plex a matter to explicate here, but for our purposes Garage, a restaurant in Wiscasset, , where the her argument can be summed up in two words: “Fish two of them used to stop on their way back from stinks.” The stink was associated with the people who shopping trips down the coast. I ordered , caught it, the people who ate it, and the food itself. It a dish that I adore but almost never have a chance to was only as the stock of individual items—, eat. My mother remarked in surprise, “You know, your , clams, and, eventually, haddock and cod— father always ordered that here,” and I felt a sudden became depleted that they began to creep up in pang of sadness and regret—another connection be- culinary esteem. tween us discovered too late. Even so, the distance fish has yet to travel to catch up with meat, even in these health-conscious, omega-3-fatty-acid-obsessed days, can be seen by comparing the meaning of “meaty” versus “fishy.” For FEW DAYS AFTERWARDS, I would find myself order- while the one has overtones of something substantial, ing codfish cakes at Moody’s Diner...not only worth sinking your teeth into, the other conveys some- A getting in touch with my Yankee roots, it seemed, thing with a bad smell, morally as well as physically. In but eating my way up the evolutionary chain of New this regard, it is even worse than “garlicky” as a term of England processing. How soon would it be opprobrium—whereas the latter merely means that before I was ordering the fresh fish special myself? you reek of low-class foreign food, the former implies Earlier, it turned out, than I would ever have thought. hidden spoilage, rot, decay. This is because Matt, who actually looks at the recipes Why has this prejudice come about? Perhaps when she reads a , kept noticing how often an it is because with meat there are many days and many author would declare that their favorite fish dish was a leagues between the death of the animal and the meal; combination of cod and potatoes. with seafood it can be a matter of seconds and inches, Cod and potatoes, of course, make up a famous as anyone who has eaten a raw will know very culinary marriage. Where cod goes, potatoes almost well. For a fish-loving culture, this intimacy is the always come along, hand in hand. “Two in One and One that whets the appetite, a savor to be pursued in Two,” as Gerald Priestly put it, “not a takeover but a to the full. Conversely, in a meat-oriented culture marriage, not a conquest but a companionship.” There such as ours, where there is no such sense of urgency, are certain pleasures in food as in life that are so quiet where is hung and meat is aged, seafood, by the that something has to fall silent within before you are time we get around to eating it, has lost the edge of able to genuinely appreciate them. And, in truth, the freshness that makes it so captivating. deliciousness that comes from combining potatoes and In , where fish is consumed spanking cod is a surprisingly delicate thing. fresh, every morsel that can be winkled from its Like the , cod has a distinctively light and carcass is treated as an epicurean delight. In his tender flesh, because the fish’s rich oil accumulates in chapter on that country in THE COOKING OF SCANDINA- its —rather than, as with bluefish or salmon, VIA, Dale Brown writes that permeating its flesh. Consequently, good as cod and potatoes are alone, they are lifted up to heaven with the from long association with the cod, the have learned not only how to cook it well, but it in judicious addition of fat. One is protein, the other its entirety. They claim that the best part of all is the carbohydrate—but fry them up and serve them togeth- head—the meat on the back of the neck and around the er, hot, crispy, and slightly greasy, and they become the jaws. The dimple of flesh on top of the skull is much two halves of a single perfect whole. appreciated by them. The inch-long tongue is also Fortunately, it isn’t the frying per se but the considered a delicacy, and wherever cod are caught in melding touch of richness that makes this so—al- quantity, the tongues will be amassed and sold. They though surely the special appeal of fish and chips may be boiled or sautéed and served with lightly browned comes from rigging out identical twins in identical butter.... Yet another delicacy is the pink roe, which is outfits, thus producing a surfeit of culinary charm. boiled, sliced and used as a to the fish itself, or The following dishes do not possess quite that sur- when floured and sautéed in butter, as a topping for . Even the liver is savored; when not boiled feit—perhaps the emphasis put on how good they are with the fish, it will be cooked in only a little salted water was in anticipation of the reader’s failing to even notice to which, at the last moment, both and pepper a recipe that called for ingredients as ordinary as these. are added. Curiously, it does not taste like cod-liver oil. But I suspect the truth is a little closer to home—that the writers themselves are surprised each time they eat page three them how delicious cod and potatoes can really be. ☛INGREDIENT NOTES: FISH. Cod—really no substitutes, 3 or 4 large garlic cloves, finely minced although haddock will work. As Marian Morash’s 2 pounds waxy potatoes husband, Russ, remarks about any other fish she serves him, however deliciously prepared: “Well, it’s 8 or so brine-cured black olives, stoned nice, but not as good as a piece of fresh cod.” My father 3 or 4 8- to 12-ounce cod fillets would have wholeheartedly concurred. POTATOES. We recommend Yukon Gold, Red Nordland, Red Pontiac, salt and black pepper to taste or White Rose, in no particular order. • Heat the olive oil in a large skillet over low heat. Add the onion rings, spreading them out to fill the pan. Cover the skillet and cook, stirring occasionally, until they are reduced to a soft, golden mass. Don’t rush this: it should take about 25 to 30 minutes. During the OAST OD ON AN RIED OTATOES R C P -F P last 10 minutes, stir in the minced garlic. There are many fish-and-potato recipes, but this, de- spite its simplicity—or because of it—is the ultimate. •Meanwhile, boil the potatoes in their skins until they —Mark Bittman, FISH: THE COMPLETE GUIDE are cooked through, about 30 minutes. Drain, let cool, slip off their skins, and slice into 1/2-inch discs. Simplicity is certainly the watchword in a recipe with only five ingredients, and we rate it as highly as Mark • Preheat the oven to 375°F. Select a shallow casserole or does. However, while he slices his potatoes into thin other ovenproof dish large enough to hold the fish in a disks, we cut ours into matchsticks. The amount of single layer. Grease it lightly with olive oil. Then layer potatoes called for may seem excessive, but when you the bottom with potatoes, reserving about one quarter of eat them you will wish you had prepared even more. them. Spread about a third of the onion-garlic mixture over these and set the fish onto this. Fit the remaining [SERVES 4] potato slices between the fish and the sides of the dish. 6 tablespoons unsalted butter Spread the remaining two-thirds of the onion-garlic mixture on top, scraping in any remaining olive oil, and 1 2 /2 pounds potatoes, peeled and cut into matchsticks dot this all over with olive bits. 2 teaspoons kosher (coarse) salt • Slip the dish into the oven and bake for about 30 3 or 4 8- to 12-ounce cod fillets minutes, or until the onions have begun to brown around the edges and the flesh of the fish flakes easily black pepper to taste and is an opaque white throughout. Serve with a plain • Preheat the oven to 425°F. Melt 4 tablespoons of the green salad, some good bread, and, if you like, a small butter over medium heat in a large nonstick skillet with pitcher of olive oil to allow to dribble a little more an ovenproof handle. When it begins to foam, add the over the fish at the table. potatoes, stir to coat the pieces with butter, and put them in the oven. Remove the skillet every 10 minutes to give them another stir, until they are all colored a deep gold. This will take about 40 to 45 minutes. UTCH OD OTATO AKE • Meanwhile, unwrap the cod and season it with the D C & P B remaining teaspoon of salt and plenty of black pepper. This recipe from the Netherlands can be seen as a Top the fillets with slivers of the remaining 2 table- Northern European response to the Iberian-inspired spoons of butter, set them on top of the golden potatoes one above: “You say garlic, we say sour cream; you say and slip the skillet back into the oven. olives, we say .” It is worthy competition. • Roast the cod until the fish begins to separate into [SERVES 4] flakes. Check for doneness by inserting a table knife into the thickest part of the —the fish is done as 4 tablespoons butter, plus a little extra soon as the flesh is opaque throughout. This will take 2 or 3 onions, chopped • 2 slices good white bread about 8 to 10 minutes, depending on the thickness. Be careful not to let it overcook or it will dry out. Serve with 2 pounds waxy potatoes a simple salad or dish. 3 or 4 8- to 12-ounce cod fillets 2 eggs • 1 cup sour cream • 1/4 cup chopped salt and black pepper to taste • Melt 2 tablespoons of the butter in a medium skillet COD BAKED WITH OLIVE OIL, and sauté the onions until they are translucent and GARLIC, & POTATOES tawny-colored but not browned. Tear the bread, includ- ing the crusts, into bits. In a small skillet, melt the other “One of the best recipes in the book,” states British 2 tablespoons of butter and gently toast the crumbs to food writer Lynda Brown in THE COOK’S GARDEN about a golden brown. Boil the potatoes for 30 minutes, or the following recipe. It is certainly very good, but what until cooked through. Drain, let cool, slip off their skins, interests us almost as much is that if you added some and slice into 1/2-inch discs. minced parsley and wedges of hard-boiled egg, you would have the spitting image of that Portuguese • Preheat the oven to 375°F. Select a shallow casserole classic Bacalao à Gomes de Sá—compare what follows or other ovenproof dish large enough to hold the fish in with the recipe for that dish in Jean Anderson’s THE a single layer. Grease it lightly with butter and line the FOOD OF PORTUGAL—except, of course, that that dish is bottom with most of the potato slices. Season them made with salt cod and this with fresh fish. with salt and pepper. Spread the sautéed onions over the fish, seasoning these as well. Tuck in the rest of the [SERVES 4] potatoes around the edges. Beat the eggs, then blend 4 tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil, plus a little extra in the sour cream and a pinch of salt. Pour this mixture 3 or 4 onions, thinly sliced page four over the fish. Sprinkle with the toasted bread crumbs NOTES & BIBLIOGRAPHY and the minced parsley. Bake for about 25 to 30 EADERS SEEKING OTHER INTERESTING VARIATIONS ON THIS THEME should minutes, or until the flesh of the fish flakes easily and is R check out ’ spectacular recipe for Roast Cod on Pota- an opaque white throughout. Serve at once. toes with Fried in MORE RHODES AROUND BRITAIN (BBC, 1995); Jane Grigson’s Gratin of Cod in FISH COOKERY (Penguin, 1975); Marian Morash’s Baked Creamy Cod with Leeks and Potatoes in THE VICTORY GARDEN FISH AND VEGETABLE COOKBOOK (Knopf, 1991), and Nancy Harmon Jenkins’ recipe for Fish Packets from Istanbul’s Pandeli EL NAZALLI BEL BATATA Restaurant in THE MEDITERRANEAN DIET COOKBOOK (Bantam, 1994). Other volumes mentioned in this essay include: Jean Anderson, THE “Fish baked on a bed of thinly sliced potatoes,” writes FOOD OF PORTUGAL (Morrow, 1986) ❖ Colman Andrews, CATALAN Manuel Vázquez Montalbán in his L’ART DE MENJAR A CUISINE (Atheneum, 1988) ❖ Mark Bittman, FISH: THE COMPLETE GUIDE CATALUNYA, “and seasoned with aromatic herbs, chopped (Macmillan, 1994) ❖ Dale Brown and the Editors of Time-Life Books, onion and tomato, garlic, parsley, and lemon offers a THE COOKING OF (Time-Life, 1968) ❖ Lynda Brown, THE trip to paradise without LSD.” A slight exaggeration, COOK’S GARDEN (Century, 1990) ❖ Penelope Casas, ¡DELICIOSO! THE perhaps, but as Colman Andrews notes in CATALAN REGIONAL COOKING OF SPAIN (Knopf, 1996) ❖ Alan Davidson, NORTH CUISINE (whence comes the quote), “the results are ATLANTIC SEAFOOD (Viking, 1979) ❖ Mark Kurlansky, COD: A BIOGRA- marvelous.” We found versions of the dish not only in PHY OF THE FISH THAT CHANGED THE WORLD (Walker, 1997) ❖ Len that book but in ¡DELICIOSO! THE REGIONAL COOKING OF Margaret, FISH & BREWIS, TOUTENS & TALES, Canada’s Atlantic SPAIN, by Penelope Casas, and in A MEDITERRANEAN HAR- Folklore~Folklife Series, Vol. 7 (Breakwater, 1980) ❖ Sandra Oliver, VEST, by Paola Scaravelli and Jon Cohen. What follows SALTWATER FOODWAYS (Mystic Seaport Museum, 1995) ❖ Elisabeth is based mostly on theirs, which comes from Morocco, Lambert Ortiz, THE FOOD OF SPAIN & PORTUGAL (Atheneum, 1989) ❖ with bits and pieces taken from the others. Gerald Priestland, FRYING TONIGHT: THE SAGA OF FISH & CHIPS (Gentry, 1972) ❖ Paola Scaravelli and Jon Cohen, A MEDITERRANEAN HARVEST [SERVES 4] (Dutton, 1986) ❖ Evelene Spencer and John N. Cobb, FISH COOKERY 4 tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil, plus a little extra (Little, Brown, 1921). 1 tablespoon sweet Spanish paprika LETTER FROM NORWAY, CONTINUED FROM PAGE 8———————— 1/2 teaspoon black pepper • 1/4 teaspoon cayenne pepper are still, half a century later, revolted by the memory of its strong, fishy taste. Stores carry it frozen—maybe • 1 teaspoon ground cumin 2 garlic cloves, finely minced there’s some Norwegian law stating that they have to— 1/4 cup each chopped fresh parsley and cilantro but I never see anyone buying it. Restaurants rarely 1 teaspoon kosher (coarse) salt, plus more to taste serve it, although I once had a delicious whale carpac- cio prepared by one of my former chefs (an Icelander). 1/2 cup dry white wine The supermarkets here, which all have four- 3 or 4 8- to 12-ounce cod fillets letter names—Rema, Rimi, Mega, Kiwi—somehow man- 2 pounds waxy potatoes • 1 medium onion, thinly sliced age to combine the ambience of warehouse stores (everything piled on pallets) with the selection available 2 large ripe tomatoes • 1/2 lemon at your average convenience store. Bread is mostly •In a mixing bowl blend half the olive oil with the factory-produced and, like all such, forgettable. But the paprika, pepper, cayenne, cumin, garlic, parsley, butter and cream here are extremely good, and the cilantro, teaspoon of salt, and 2 tablespoons of the wine. Coat the pieces of fish with the resulting paste apples and berries—strawberries, raspberries, black- and marinate at room temperature for 1 hour. After berries, blueberries, cloudberries, lingonberries—are about 45 minutes, preheat the oven to 375°F. to kill for. And I’ve already mentioned the seafood. Still, I can’t tell you how much I miss genuine •Meanwhile, boil the potatoes in their skins until they are cooked through, about 30 minutes. Remove them Mexican food, Southern , diners, California to a dish and when they are cool enough to handle, slip wines, great , waitresses who call you “honey” or off their skins and slice them into 1/2-inch discs. “sweetie,” chicken-fried , and cornbread. Nothing can beat being brought up in the great Southwest— • Put the onion slices and the remaining 2 tablespoons komle will never replace the my grand- of olive oil in a skillet and sauté them gently until they are soft and golden. Don’t let them brown. mother Pokey used to make. Consequently, my two sons, Noah and Odin, have been reared on that fried 1 • Slice the tomatoes into rounds about /4-inch thick. chicken, as well as and maple syrup, grilled Use a very sharp knife or mandoline to cut the half sandwiches, and pumpkin pie. We make a habit lemon into paper-thin slices or, alternately, cut away the peel entirely and slice the flesh into rounds. Either of celebrating Thanksgiving and Halloween, and not a way, discard the seeds and the lemon end. Finally, year goes by without turkey dinner on Christmas Day. select a baking dish or casserole large enough to hold On Christmas Eve, of course, I struggle through pin- the fish in a single layer and grease it lightly. nekjøtt, beer, and aquavit with my inlaws. •When the hour is up, spread first the potatoes and then The bottom line, though, is that I love it here. the sautéed onions in the baking dish. Season this with Norway is a great place to bring up kids, and I might a pinch or so of salt. Lay the pieces of fish, being careful never have discovered my beloved Italy if she hadn’t not to dislodge the herbal coating, on top of the veg- been only a two-hour flight away. etables. Lay the tomato and lemon slices over and around the fish. Lastly, swirl the remaining wine in the mari- CRAIG W HITSON opened Norway's first Mexican restaurant nade dish and dribble the result over the fish. Bake for in 1986. Nine years later, tired of taco making, he 25 minutes, or until the flesh of the fish flakes easily and created Craig's Kjokken (Kitchen) in 1995, where the is an opaque white throughout. Serve at once. cooking is based on seasonal ingredients. A second restaurant, Café Italia, serving authentic Italian cui- sine, came into being in 1999. Both places have won the Award of Excellence from the Wine Spectator (Craig’s page five Kjokken since 1997, Café Italia since 2001). CONTINUED FROM PAGE 1 the forlornly flattened appearance of something that Not—to continue our Whitman’s Sampler anal- had been sat on all afternoon. “Greg,” I said, “what on ogy—that I didn’t find a few pieces of chocolate-covered earth are you talking about?” nougat worth the taking, but none of these brought my Greg leaned his head over to look out the heart back out from where it had gone to sulk in one of window at the end of the booth, as if someone might my shoes. I had been played for a sucker, and I was have been creeping up on us on his hands and knees. furious and miserable. Whereas I usually had a cele- “This is the Professor’s supper,” he said in a voice bratory lunch at the Ruxford Post Road Grille, this time barely above a whisper. “He had to leave in a hurry and I got in my car and headed straight for home. Or rather, he forgot to take it.” considering my condition, somewhere even better. I found myself glancing out the window with “Uh oh,” Greg said when I came in the door. him. “Wow!” I said. “Do you know what’s inside?” The No-Name doesn’t have any chairs, but if it did they Greg looked at me as I had been born a few would all have been up-ended and resting on top of the blueberries short of a muffin. “Of course I know,” he tables. The floor was half covered with wet sudsy said. “Why else would I be dying to eat it?” whorls, Greg in the midst of them. He slowly straight- “Okay,” I said. For some reason, even though ened up, leaving a swoop half executed. I had no idea what the package held, my mouth had “Oh, no,” I answered back. Although techni- started to water, slurring my speech a little. After all, cally open until three in the afternoon, on quiet days seven miserable hours had passed since I had eaten the Professor sometimes called it quits half an hour breakfast. I swallowed before continuing. “But what early, leaving Greg to do the final cleaning up in happens if the Professor comes back while we’re peace...and often forgetting to flip over the OPEN sign eating it?” to CLOSED when he left. “We’ll face that situation like the men we are,” There must have been something in the way I Greg replied. “We’ll get down on the floor and crawl to said those two words that conveyed that my next act the back door. And, if we don’t make it I’ll explain as was going to be to go across the street and throw myself calmly and rationally as I can that you made me do it.” into the river, because he lifted the mop, stuck it into I tapped my fingers nervously on the table. “I the bucket, and gestured for me to take a stool at the don’t think I’ve ever faced such a difficult dilemma in counter. He then came around to the other side of it, my life. You’d better tell me exactly what’s inside.” leaned back against the stainless-steel prep unit, and “You’re even likelier to become an accomplice if assumed a thoughtful expression, which made a touch- I actually show you,” Greg said, and pulled the wrap- ing match to the slogan on his T-shirt, THIRD EYE BLIND. ping open. What lay before us seemed more a victim of “Hmm,” he said. “The grill is off, the specials are a crime than an enticement to commit one: a very sold out, the meatloaf pan is empty. If I’d known you flattened and somewhat bloodstained loaf of bread. were coming, I’d’ve baked you a cake, but I didn’t—so “That’s kind of scary,” I said, looking up at him. no cake, either.” He partially turned and looked into the “It’s supposed to look like that,” said Greg, a refrigerated prep bins. “The easy way out would be to bit defensively. “It’s called a bookie’s . You make you an egg-salad sandwich and show you the take a thick piece of grilled steak and sautéed mush- door, but that’s not the No-Name style.” rooms, bury it in a loaf of bread, wrap everything up, “No,” I answered. “The No-Name style would be and sit on it all day at the races. Then you eat it to show me the door and throw the sandwich after me.” afterwards while counting up your winnings.” Greg thought about that, brightened, and said, “Amazing,” I said. “Imagine if instead of steak “Yes, that’s true.” He turned and looked behind him they had filled it with salad.” again, then sighed. “Unfortunately, there’s only enough Greg made an oozing gesture with his hands for half a sandwich. Hardly worth the effort.” He shook and said, “Pthhhbbbpt.” We both laughed. his head. “This really is a puzzler.” I sat there looking at it for a moment and then “Gee,” I said, “there must be something out shook my head. “Greg,” I said, “I’ve had a terrible day, back you could dig into for me.” The words had barely I feel lousy, and I’m starving. But I just can’t eat left my mouth when Greg’s face assumed a simulta- another man’s supper, especially the Professor’s. You neously joyous and devious expression. wrap this back up and I’ll go buy myself something at “Yes!” he said. He then turned and vanished Taco Bell.” into the back room, repeating “Yes! Yes! Yes!” as he did. “Damn it! That’s an even worse idea,” said a He returned clutching a largish, rectangular voice, and the Professor was suddenly standing in parcel wrapped in white ’s paper. He picked up front of us, looking extremely disgruntled. He had one of the Professor’s small, sharp kitchen knives and come in through the service door at the rear of the beckoned me to follow him to one of the booths across building and heard us talking while he was searching from the counter. He slid in on one side and I on the around in the back room for his supper. Greg and I other. Greg laid the package on the table between us. stared at each other, too petrified to speak. “Now,” Greg said, “I am about to invite you to The Professor gestured to Greg to move over and engage in a criminal activity. Furthermore, when con- squeezed in next to him in the booth. “He,” the Professor fronted, as I surely will be, I am going to blame you, in said, picking up the knife and pointing it at me, “is a the faint hope that the ‘customer is always right’ customer, but you...is there no honor among thieves?” defense will win us both an acquital.” Greg considered Greg muttered something inaudible, which me dubiously, like a purchase that might prove difficult the Professor ignored. He took the knife and began to to return. “The thing is, when push comes to shove,” he cut the loaf into thick slices, revealing a wedge of rare went on, “are you man enough to tough it out?” CONCLUDED ON PAGE 8 I had no idea what Greg was getting at, and I didn’t much like the look of the package, either. It had page six monkfish, and are also great. But the thing about the cod is that it is just boiled. And boiled. A LETTER FROM NORWAY grinding of white pepper is about as exotic as it gets. CRAIG WHITSON Potatoes, mostly boiled or mashed, are Nor- way’s central starch and so provide the focal point of N DECEMBER OF 1980 I moved from Oklahoma to Stavanger, Norway's fourth largest city, which sits the meal. They are what fill you up, and a meal Ion the North Sea in the southwest corner of that without potatoes here is like a month without sun- country. My brother was a student there, and after shine (which can also provide). visiting him once I liked the place enough to come (pommes frites/fritter/chips) are a fast- back to stay awhile. I was then an aspiring drummer food staple, especially at gatekjøkken (take-out joints), and soon was playing with a Norwegian band. Howev- all of which specialize in hot dogs (so many are eaten er, I was also involved enough in cooking to be asked here that Norwegians joke that they’ve become the to make some cakes for a new café—and on opening national food). Sometimes these are served wrapped night found myself invited to run its kitchen. I said yes in a rather tasty potato (with fries on the and never looked back. side, of course), then topped with , , Stavanger is an unusual but successful mix- onion, and rekesalat, a pinkish mayonnaise-intensive ture of the blue-collar (a center for concoction. centuries—King Oscar Brand sardines are produced Norway’s new potatoes, especially, are superb, here—and the oil capital of Norway since the last one) and my family has a yearly tradition of eating at least and the cosmopolitan. Of its 110,000 inhabitants, one dinner composed of nothing else, except sweet seven percent were born outside of Norway, and the butter, Maldon salt, and ground pepper. We wait city, especially the charming “Old Town,” with its about a month after the first potatoes appear—they woodframe houses and cobbled streets, draws a flood are then at their peak, and they are terrific. Unfortu- of visitors from all over Europe. nately, the typical home cook here peels even the most Consequently, Stavanger is the Norwegian city tender of them and then proceeds to boil them to most known for food. Both the Norwegian School for death. It’s enough to make you weep. Hotel Management and the Gastronomic Institute are During my two decades here I’ve seen more situated here, and there are yearly festivals for wine, and more Norwegians turn away from their traditional garlic, and chiles (as well as literature, chamber music, cooking, yielding to the seductive lure of international eroticism, and gardening). The summer’s grand event is fast food. Some of this I’m glad to see (popcorn at the held the last weekend in July, the Gladmat (roughly movies, a novelty introduced just two years ago), some translated as Happy Food) Festival, which each year is simply horrific, and some is a combination of both attracts over 200,000 visitors. (doughnuts—at last!—but they taste like cardboard). Still, even in Stavanger, you don't have to cut Much of it, though, is just depressing: fake , too deeply to uncover the pure Norwegian essence of spooky-looking tacos, pizza. This last can occasionally be the city, especially when it comes to the cooking—a good, but usually the cheese is flaccid and flavorless, cuisine right out of the hard-nosed Protestant ethos pineapple is used with abandon (Norwegians love it), and portrayed in “Babette's Feast.” But while Isak Dines- some of the more esoteric toppings take pizza where it was en, a Dane, might have considered the food Babette never supposed to go. These include “the Taco”—corn was forced to prepare every day the Spartan fare of chips, salsa, and meat, covered in a throat-burning religious fanatics, for Norwegians it’s just good old powder—and “the #10”—, , and onion. dinner: boiled cod with boiled potatoes and boiled (This one became so popular at one pizza place that its white , preferably served up on a white plate. competitors stole not only the combination but its numer- The cod, of course, is superb, as is almost all ic designation.) The usual sauce is plain tomato purée, the seafood. The best smoked and cured salmon in the and the crust...well, the crust is something that might world is made here in Norway. The crab, lobster, have been created by the Pillsbury Doughboy from Hell. Authentic Norwegian cooking can taste just as bad, but it is always more interesting. And some of it is truly delicious, such as komle (aka raspeballer or klubb), large potato dumplings generally served with mashed swedes (the vegetable, not the people), meaty , and salt lamb or pork. One of the most popular meals at Christmas is oven-baked pork ribs with a crispy crack- ling, served with stewed red cabbage and lean pork sausages laced with . If anyone is looking for a great alternative to turkey dinner, this is it. Other classic dishes include fårikål (boiled mut- ton and cabbage), blomkålsuppe (cauliflower ), CONTINUED ON PAGE 8

Simple Cooking 77 © 2002 John Thorne and Matt Lewis Thorne. All rights reserved. ❍ The subscription price is $24 for six issues, which is the number we hope to get out each year. ❍ Unless you state otherwise, we assume letters to us are meant for publication and can be edited accordingly. ❍ P.O. Box 778, Northampton MA 01061• [email protected]. Visit our award- winning Internet site at: HTTP://WWW.OUTLACOOK.COM. page seven ISSN 0749-176X NO-NAME, CONTINUED FROM PAGE 6—————————— steak surrounded by a compacted layer of sautéed mushrooms wrapped firmly in a dense crust of juice- The Bookie’s Sandwich soaked bread. It looked inutterably delicious. [SERVES ONE OR SEVERAL, DEPENDING ON THE CIRCUMSTANCES] The Professor paused in his slicing and said to a medium-size oblong crusty loaf me, “Go into the back room and get the paper bag I left 1 on my desk.” One 1 /2-inch-thick, well-marbled New strip steak I scuttled off and came back with what was 2 tablespoons butter unmistakably a well-chilled six-pack and set it on the 3 or 4 portobello mushroom caps, sliced table. The Professor reached inside, took out a bottle salt and black pepper of Pale Ale and, with a quick flick of the back of the knife, sent the cap flying over the counter. He then •Slice one end from the loaf. Use a serrated knife to passed the bottle to me. “Here,” he said. “Might as well cut a four-sided rectangle deep into the loaf and pull be hung for a sheep as for a lamb.” out the crumb to create a hollow space about the size of the steak. He repeated the process for Greg and himself and then gestured to the slices spread out on the •Grill the steak over a very hot fire, so that it is well butcher paper. “So, dig in,” he said. seared on all sides but still nicely rare. Season it We seriously chewed for several minutes, in- generously on both sides. Meanwhile, melt the butter in a skillet and sauté the mushroom slices over high terrupting this primal activity only for some swigs heat until browned without but still juicy within. from our bottles of pale ale. The steak was tender, the mushrooms dark, juicy, and savory, and the bread • Insert the steak (along with its juices) into the loaf, had been transformed by the compression and the push in the mushroom slices around it, replace the absorbed meat juices into a kind of rich, chewy...crust. cut-off end, and wrap the loaf in butcher’s paper if available or waxed paper if not. (Don’t use plastic wrap As soon as this last word came to me, I had a flash of or aluminum foil, because the sandwich should not be recognition. sealed air-tight.) Balance a heavy object like an un- “Hey!” I exclaimed.”I know what this is.” abridged dictionary or a cast-iron Dutch oven on top of Both the Professor and Greg stopped chewing the package and let it compress for a few hours before and looked at me in puzzlement. After all, it wasn’t as packing it in your flight bag. if we were eating some mystery meal. ! NOTE OF CAUTION: Obviously, a casual preparation “Uh, what I mean,” I went on, slightly flus- such as this presents some risk of food poisoning. tered. “is that this is a portable reinvention of the While the Professor believes it to be negligible, he steak and kidney...well, the steak and mushroom...pie.” wants to point out that he does not offer this dish at the The Professor mulled this over for a moment, No-Name. In fact, apart from the instance recounted then grunted. “Makes sense,” he said. “I came across here, he serves it only to someone who completely the thing in an old British cookbook. The author knows and accepts the risks: namely, to himself. wrote...,” he tilted his head back, shook his memory by the scruff of the neck, and then intoned, “‘With this Letter from , Cont. from Page 7————— “sandwich” and a flask of whisky and water, a man and (dried cod treated with lye), which is pale, may travel from Land’s End to Quaker Oats and snap trembly, squeaky to eat, and totally flavorless. The his fingers at both.’” He laughed. “‘Quaker Oats,’ Norwegians eat smaleføter and smalahove (respectively that’s just what he said. Not often you read something the feet and heads of sheep—yes, the eyes are also a in a cookbook that you never want to forget.” delicacy), blood and blood pudding, and some- “I have wondered what you cook for yourself at thing called lungemos, a concoction made of sheep’s home,” I said, as I herded a little pile of bread crumbs lung that is not for the squeamish. And then there is and mushroom scraps in my direction. “This I did not gamalost, a cheese with an aroma to wake the dead. imagine.” (Actually, the cheese picture here is pretty bleak. The Professor looked at me. “I’ll tell you some- Jarlsberg is about as good as it gets.) thing. For the grill cook, the best possible supper is a The other most beloved is six-pack of beer, a sharp knife, and an Italian , pinnekjøtt—salted and dried sheep ribs—steamed over and to hell with everything else. But this little snack birch twigs and served with melted fat on the side. The makes for a pleasant change.” Norwegians’ affection for this dish mystifies me; it’s He worked his way out from the booth, picked usually like something that might be served to lifers at up the remaining bottles of beer, and looked down at the state pen: dry, tough, and salty. It doesn’t have to the two of us. “All that’s left to do,” he said, “is to pass be like that, but no one seems to mind much when it is. sentence. Are you ready?” Greg and I exchanged This is Norwegian soul food, which means it is much glances and nodded our heads. more about tough love than it is about good taste. “Okay then,” the Professor said. He pointed at is another tradition that has faded me. “You owe me a supper. And you,” he turned to away, at least in urban Norway. This is not out of Greg, “are going to learn how to cook.” concern for the whales—generations of Norwegians have hunted them and they are simply baffled by the protests of outsiders. One theory for its fall from favor is that during the Nazi occupation, whale was about the only meat available—the Germans requisitioned the rest—and children were served it so often that they CONCLUDED ON PAGE 5 page eight