Monday, August 20, 2012

Preserved Lemons, If You Can Believe That.

I can't imagine how I got fixated on preserved lemons....oh, wait, yes I can. I can blame it on Bryn. She and Doug were showing off some of their flea market finds for the kitchen, including an impressive collection of vintage decorative serving plates that they use daily for fresh fruits and vegetables, cheese and crackers, and just about anything that could benefit from a burst of color and style. As it turns out, Doug has developed quite an eye for unusual mid-century items and as a result their dinner table has become quite the visual feast, the perfect setting to showcase Bryn's prowess in the kitchen.

While surveying their kitchen shelves, my eye landed on a colorful Moroccan tagine, a cooking vessel I've never owned or used. But its graceful lines and indisputable practicality have always intrigued me.

This is a typical North African tagine with a domed lid. I like Bryn and Doug's better
because their tagine has a lid that is shaped like the Eiffel Tower.

The tagine was another of their second-hand store scores, but Bryn confessed she'd never tried using it. In a burst of enthusiasm, I suggested she and I find a recipe we could throw into the tagine for a fun dinner that night. After scouring the Internet, Bryn announced that we'd need preserved lemons in order to keep any recipe authentic, and that preserving lemons took 3-4 weeks, time we didn't have. In the back of my mind, I vowed that when I got back to California, I'd take advantage of my back yard lemon tree to try a batch of preserved lemons.

Preserved lemons, or citrons confits, are a staple of Moroccan cooking and Arab dishes to enhance anything cooked in a tagine: lamb, salmon, chicken, and all kinds of cooked vegetables. The experts highly recommend using Meyer lemons for their milder flavor and fragrant skins, which is lucky for me because my Meyer lemon tree produces more fruit than I could ever use.

I adapted this recipe to accommodate two 1-quart jars that I wanted to fill. Lemons vary is size but you can figure on needing at least 4 Meyer lemons plus the juice from 3 additional lemons for each quart-sized jar. I also opted to add some spices to the mixture.

Preserved Lemons

Wash and scald two clear 1-quart Mason jars. Also sterilize the lids and bands. Set aside to dry.

14 Meyer lemons, 8 will go into the jars, plus 6 more for squeezing. Use only unsprayed lemons!
Salt. Sea salt or Kosher salt is best.
2 Cinnamon sticks, 1 for each jar.
6-8 Whole cloves, 3-4 for each jar.
12 Coriander seeds, 6 for each jar.
8 Black peppercorns, 4 for each jar.
2 Bay leaves, 1 for each jar.

Scrub the lemons lightly with a vegetable brush and set aside to dry. Trim off the pointed ends, and cut lengthwise down through each of 8 lemons, stopping about a half-inch from the bottom. Turn the lemons and make a similar cut so that each lemon is almost cut into quarters but not into 4 pieces. Opening the lemon like a flower, pack each lemon with about 1 tablespoon of salt so the exposed flesh is thoroughly coated with salt.

Put 1-2 tablespoons of salt in the bottom of each quart jar. Start adding the cut and salted lemons into the jars, jamming each lemon down hard to extract the juices. With each added lemon, press down hard to release as much juice as you can. Add the spices to each jar. If you need more juice, squeeze the additional unsalted lemons to bring the juice level up to about 1/2-inch from the top of the jar. Do not use commercial lemon juice; it isn't the same as fresh lemon juice.

Seal each jar and set aside for about a month. Every day, turn the jars to re-distribute the juice and spices. After 4 weeks, the lemons should be soft and ready to use. These can be stored in the refrigerator for at least 6 months. Before using, remove the lemon from the jar with a sterile utensil (not your hands) and rinse to remove the excess salt. Scrape off the pulp and slice the peels into thin strips or dice.

Makes 2 quarts, which should be enough for numerous recipes. I'm told that diced preserved lemons are wonderful stirred into cooked green beans or carrots, spread over roasted squash, or mashed and mixed into softened butter and fresh herbs to flavor grilled fish. Personally, I'm dreaming about salmon or lamb braised with preserved lemon strips.

This batch will be ready for use when Bryn and Doug get here for the holidays. I think a chicken braised in a tagine with preserved lemons would be the perfect family dinner. I hope she's up for it because I'm all set to be her sous chef. Now that I've gotten the key ingredient down pat, all that needs followup reporting is the dinner itself. Stay tuned.



Thursday, August 9, 2012

Cold Cucumber-Yogurt Soup

When I was in Boston last week, my favorite Bostonians and I made our way to a sidewalk cafe for a late afternoon cocktail. Feeling a bit peckish after a day on the water, we ordered an assortment of dishes to accompany our drinks and in the end, as it always happens, we had noshed enough to call it dinner. Each of us ordered something different so we could taste everything on the table: Creole fries with a garlic aioli, Thai shrimp tacos, focaccia with a white bean dip and a fresh peach cake for dessert.

I was intrigued by a cold soup on the menu that combined garden cucumbers and yogurt garnished with heirloom tomatoes and chives. It did not disappoint. Back in California, I vowed to recreate it without a recipe, and the result was pretty much on the money. There are many variations on this recipe; adding garlic, mint or dill would change it a bit, so experiment with abandon.


Cold Cumber-Yogurt Soup

2 English cucumbers, each about 12 inches long
2 Cups plain yogurt
1 Tablespoon honey, softened
1-2 Teaspoons salt, or to taste
2-3 Heirloom cherry tomatoes
Chives or scallions, chopped fine
Basil-flavored olive oil

Peel and seed the cukes, and chop into one-inch chunks. You should end up with about 2-1/2 cups of chopped cukes. Place in the food processor and combine with the yogurt, the honey and the salt. Process by pulsing to preserve some of the crunchy texture of the cucumbers; don't over-process into a puree. You should end up with about 3 cups of soup. Chill until ready to serve.

Just before serving, slice the tomatoes in half if they are quite small, otherwise quarter larger tomatoes into wedges. season them lightly with salt and freshly ground pepper. Chop the chives very finely for garnish and set aside.

Ladle into soup bowls and place the tomatoes in a decorative pattern on top of the soup. Garnish with the chives. Using a small spoon, drizzle the basil oil over all.

If you are a home gardener with more cucumbers than you know what to do with, this is one recipe that will come to your rescue. Try serving the cold soup in martini glasses garnished with a very small wedge of tomato for an elegant appetizer, or in soup bowls for a refreshing first course.

Serves 4.