Shakshuka!

Let’s talk travel recipes.

Last March, I went to Israel. I had some mind-blowing food. I was absolutely struck by the simplicity and intensity of the regional flavors. Even the flavor of the raw produce had a different (better?) flavor – more concentrated. I can’t really explain the difference. At breakfast we would be offered eggs, potatoes of some fashion, and a fresh salad bar. There was some canned fruit, but mostly fresh vegetables (tomatoes, cucumbers, salad, olives). I thought it was unusual to have fresh salad with my breakfast (but obviously I tried it). Basically it was like tasting cucumbers for the first time. My English skills are not advanced enough to appropriately describe the flavor explosion that happened in my mouth. And that seemed to happen with everything I tried.

About half-way through the trip, we stopped at our first market. There were baked goods and fresh produce and breads and olives and nuts and spices and ALL THE THINGS. All of them. It was like someone took Pike’s Place Market, put it on steroids, then put Bulked Up Pike’s Place on a flavor binge, and then rounded up Big Fat Pike’s Place’s fat friends and they all got together and staged a sit-in all over Israel. THAT much food. And things. And just… like whoa. (Did I mention I don’t really have the words?)

After visiting a few vendors, and completely gorging on outrageous baked goods (the highlight of the day being the fresh-from-the-oven chocolate rugalach. I could literally write a book on how good this pastry is, but it would be lots of “really really really really really really really good, like you don’t even know how really really really really really really really really really baller moist and delicious it is” and that gets boring in 1 sentence, let alone 200 pages) I set out on a spice mission. It was getting close to our meeting time to head back to the bus, but I happened upon our tour guide and another group leader having a snack just outside the plaza. First of all, the tour guide sent me back out IMMEDIATELY because I had failed to buy any za’atar. When I came back, I was able to try a bite of the left over shakshuka from our leader’s lunch. It was divine. I’d had baked eggs before, but never like this. And paired with the flavorful bread (of course it was flavorful) it was (not to be repetitive) a flavor explosion in MY MOUTH. Later on the bus, our fearless tour guide gave us his own personal recipe on making shakshuka at home. Believe you me, it did not take me almost 6 months to make this dish. In fact, it was one of the first things I made for myself during my stint of funemployment. But I did hoard the recipe and eat lots of it secretly under the table away from you because I didn’t want to admit how much this tomato-loathing Westerner had been shoveling this hand-over-fist. (…Oh and I kept eating it so fast I forgot to take pictures.)

Shakshuka is really a simple, rustic dish. In Israel it was on the menus for all times of day, but it seemed to be mostly a breakfast dish. I’ve eaten it at all times of day and am never mad at it. It’s savory enough to play with dinner - probably a flavor palate most of us Westerners are used to having with dinner. But it’s a great day starter – protein from eggs, fruits from the tomatoes, carbs from the dipping bread, and quick to throw together. The eggs poach right in the sauce, and it’s encouraged to eat directly from the pan it’s cooked in – family style! I recently made this for my family in California – I accommodated a large crowd by cooking the sauce on the stove, then putting it in a bake-ware pan and finishing the eggs in the oven. It took a little longer this way, but was easier than cooking in batches. Everyone, from my gluten-free little cousin, to my picky big cousins, enjoyed it.

Crusty bread is best to dip, but you could probably use just about anything. As a bread connoisseur, I recommend a French loaf or sourdough as your first pick. A focaccia or ciabatta would also be a great.

Shakshuka

Serves 3ish

Adapted from my Israeli tour guide

1 Tbls olive oil

1 Tbls butter

1 small onion, diced (yellow or sweet)

1 tsp salt (ish)

A few cloves of garlic, minced (more or less, depending on your taste. I like ALL OF IT)

28 oz can San Marzano crushed tomatoes (fresh tomatoes are great, too)

A few generous pinches of za’atar (available in exotic spice sections or Middle Eastern markets. Fresh parsley may be replaced)

6 eggs (the fresher, the better – I use farm fresh because I know a guy)

Feta, if you’re getting crazy

1.      Heat a large non-stick pan over medium-high heat. Add the olive oil and butter (you can use just olive oil if you prefer) and allow to heat up. Add the onion and salt and cook until the onion is translucent, but not yet browned.

2.      Add the garlic and cook until fragrant.

3.      Add the tomatoes and za’atar (or some parsley – be sure to reserve some). Stir, and then lower the heat to medium-low. Cook without a lid until the sauce reduces slightly. If it sputters, turn down the heat. If it reduces too quickly, losen it with a few spoonfuls of water. Season with salt and pepper.

4.      Add the 6 eggs evenly throughout the pan. Add a lid and cook 5-6 minutes, until the whites are set. You make cook longer if you aren’t wildly about loose yolks.

5.    When the eggs are set, remove from heat. Sprinkle a little feta (to taste) and some za’atar or parsley. Maybe a salad on the side. Enjoy!

Hangover: Part Kvetchin'

In May, my family descended upon Vegas. Most of it was innocent fun, but like every Vegas story, there were moments when I thought we'd lost people forever. Please to enjoy this travel post filler as I get my blogging ish together.

When I turned 21, my parents took me to Las Vegas. It was partly for me, but a little bit for them, too. My mom had a conference there near my birthday, so it was a little bit kismet. Six years later, my second youngest cousin turned 21, and two grandparents, three aunts, three uncles, four cousins, and a girlfriend all got together to celebrate! 

So you can only imagine the chaos that followed...

I love getting together with my family on these weekends - all these years later, now that the siblings are (mostly) getting along, it is so much fun to get everyone together. The shouting, the laughing, the joking... Did I mention the shouting?

The trip included a fantastic trip to the dam (insert all of the dam jokes - they are still funny!!). We didn't take the dam tour, but we walked around, got some sun, and stood in two states at once (anyone else a little weird about borders and being in two places at once? I love it).

Also featured on the trip was flavored sake, spicy edamame, excellent sushi, enough buffets to burst your belly, and a fantastic comedy show complete with long island iced teas spiked with red bull. 

The highlight (low light?) of the weekend was when my husband went missing (Hangover style). He left to play poker with my parents, they got separated, and suddenly it was time to leave for the comedy show and we couldn't reach him. They are not keen on phone use at the card tables, and he was deep in a tournament at a different casino than either dinner or the show. Luckily he wasn't out getting any strange face tattoos, but he was winning seats at poker tournements (he had to give them up because of our flights).

That wasn't the only time people went missing. At one point, over half of the thirteen of us were unaccounted for by the group leaders. There was almost always a core group, but as people trickled away (without a plan or a cell phone), we lost so many of them. Vegas has them now.

Just kidding, we found them and everyone got home safe and sound. The end!

The Traveler Returns

Let me start by saying that a lot has happened since I truly gave a detailed share-time here.
For starters, I was laid-off back in March. It was a terrible learning experience. I'm still learning from it... The most scarring part of the experience was that the news came in the middle of my incredible trip across Israel. It soured the second half of the trip. I have enough trouble focusing on the moment due to my mild anxiety, but this was truly distracting. Luckily I met some wonderfully amazing people who helped me talk myself up and even comforted me during my unannounced sobbing panic fits on the plane ride home.

I sat at home for 7 weeks.

I cleaned, I cooked, I cried, I did laundry, I organized my spice cabinet, I cried some more, and I dusted the tops of book shelves. And when Monday was over...

That is only a slight exaggeration. Most of my days included about 12 hours of job hunting/networking/resume writing and rewriting and over analysis of what I would wear on interviews. Occasionally, I would get an interview.

I pictured myself blogging a lot more during that time. But frankly, I was feeling pretty sorry for myself in between my bouts of panic and while I did plenty of cooking, photographing, and eating, I didn't really feel up to writing about it.

But on the 8th week there was work. And it was good. The natives rejoiced throughout the land.

And I haven't stopped moving since. Since May when I returned to work, I have been to Las Vegas, Prague, Vancouver BC, Australia, Portland, and the Washington coast. All of the international trips were for business and took up most of June. Honestly, it's taken me until about last week to truly recover from jet-lag. My hubs has been incredibly patient while I have no desire to cook and we went through a particularly shameful week of eating out for every dinner. When my job isn't sending me around the globe in 21 days, I'm working long hours and spending most of my creative juices on impressing my boss instead of sharing here. If you remember that I'm an introvert, this makes sense. Trust me.

But as I dusted off the blog to ready my typing fingers for Berry Week, I found myself wanting to talk. So here's a little bit about Australia (including a cocktail!) and hopefully I'll soon share the rest of my travels.

I spent a week between Melbourne and Sydney. And as glamorous as that sounds (and I never tire of saying it), I assure you it was not. The working days (all but one) were spent at the hospital, averaging 10 hour days. It's winter time down undah, so the days were shorter and colder. I had essentially zero time in Sydney. We drove past the opera house, but was working the rest of my time there. I was lucky enough to walk a bit around Melbourne, though.

Melbourne is a stunning city. It reminded me of a larger Portland with the liveability and culture. As a foodie, I was truly impressed. I experienced a wonderful tapas meal with Spanish wine and such care and civility to the dining experience that exceeded my best experience in Barcelona. I sneaked a snap of the menu so I could remember it.

Bunuelos de bacalao, caballa ahumado, queso, pollo escabache al miguel, bistec tartar de wagyu, setas asadas con jerez, and cecina were all gorged on.

Right around the corner from our hotel was an amazing breakfast place who grew their own honey on the roof. They had other impressive qualities, like locally source ingredients and a seasonal, low impact menu, but I was entranced by their honey. On my first visit, I was foolish enough to order "just" a latte. My colleague ordered a milk 'n honey (steamed milk with honey and cinnamon) that was so fragrant that I could smell it over my french toast and bacon. The next trip, I asked them to add honey to the latte and suddenly the world shattered around me and I found my new favorite morning drink: Milk 'n Honey Latte. Seriously you should try it. Starbucks in the states will even make it (I've tried). But everywhere I went in Melbourne had honey at hand and could whip me up one of these special treats. I'm in coffee love. It's like experiencing coffee all over again. I had fabulous quinoa, coq au vin, chicken parmagiana, benedicts, pork-fat-fried potatoes, and risottos. I was never hungry. Except for that one time we went shopping walking and forgot to eat and found out the hard way that most places are closed between 2 pm and 5 pm.

Bikes abound, polite locals, and beautiful foliage framed by time in town. One of my favorite meals all week was at The Aylesbury. The lunch featured a roasted carrot on a bed of creme fraiche with quinoa, sunflower seeds, and pomegranate seeds. The bread was... out of the this world. Unworldly. But I had a supremely executed cocktail and if it wasn't for the fact that I was dining with my boss and it was 1 pm, I would have had 2 more. They called it a "My Name is Earl". Served in a tall glass, it contained gin, creme de peche, earl grey tea, and lemon. It was surprisingly tea-like and not too sweet or alcoholic. Definitely one to go down smooth. Below I tried to recreate it.

After a week of hard work, which came hot on the tails of two other business trips, I was so ready for bed. I slept on the way home and was welcomed to a weekend of fundraisers and bridal showers across two states. But nothing was warmer than finally being in my husbands arms again. And two cats who didn't notice I was gone.

Below is my recreation attempt at the Aylesbury's drink. Mine came out more of a sweet tea, but was still very tea-like. I don't care much for real sweet teas, but I didn't find this version bad at all. It's a wonderful accompany to your porch-side evenings this summer!

Sweet Earl
Makes 1 cocktail (and extra syrup)

For Earl Grey Syrup
1/4 cup loose Earl Grey tea leaves
1 1/4 cup boiling water
1 1/4 cup sugar

In a large mug, place the tea leaves. Cover with boiling water and let steep until very strong (5 minutes). Strain the loose tea out and pour the tea into a small saucepan. To the saucepan, add the sugar and stir to combine. Place the saucepan over medium-high heat until the sugar dissolves completely and reduces slightly (5-10 minutes). Remove from heat and set aside to cool.

For the Sweet Earl:
1 1/2 jigger gin
1 jigger earl grey syrup
3/4 jigger peach schnapps
2 jiggers brewed earl grey tea (cooled)
Lemon slices

In a tall glass, add ice. Pour all liquid ingredients into the glass and stir to combine. Add the lemon slices and serve.

All The Feels!

As you may have seen from my previous post, I was in Israel last month. Not for the whole month, but for 10 days in the middle. Writing about my time has been a battle, and I've refused to write about anything else in the meantime, which is a silly rule and I should just move on. But also delayed in part because I couldn't decide how much you all (some friends and some interweb followers) really wanted to know about my travels.

I saw and felt and tasted many things. However, as I finally down to describe my journey, I am still so outrageously hurt by the events of this week that I decided to break my original lengthy post into two shorter ones. I ate many things. I will talk about those later. For now... The Feels.

Crab Scampi (And a rant typed from a claustophobic death tube)

Preface: The following was typed while flying at 31000 feet in a small, claustophobic plane from Dallas to Portland, on our approximately 5th rescheduled flight back from South America on a work trip.

If you follow me on Twitter (@kvetchnkitchen), you probably noticed last week that I was traveling for work. The location where I was working is quite difficult to get to – at least 3 flights. More flights come with an increased chance of delays and hiccups. Let’s face it – it’s hard enough with one flight. Though, to be honest I don’t remember the last time I took a single flight to get anywhere. It’s been at least a year, I think. Anywhere for work requires at least 2 (usually 3), and vacations are usually cheaper with a connection (even SEA à LAX, because who wouldn’t want to double trip time and fuel cost by laying over in Salt Lake City but it’s okay because it’s cheaper).

Anyways, I don’t want to gripe too much because I really do love my job, and I realize that I am very lucky to get these amazing travel experiences, even if it is just to spend 11+ hours working most days. But the trips to South America have been the most challenging. The country we visit has a small airport (4 gates). It averages about 4 incoming and 4 outgoing flights every day, and with the exception of Miami, it only services other South American countries. As it is late Spring in the Southern Hemisphere, thunderstorms are very frequent and prolonged. Basically, we were delayed several times over and I am writing this on a cramped plane that is on it’s 3^rd of 4 hours but for such a long flight, there is no sight of television monitor, in-arm entertainment, and I’ve drained the power reading on both my phone and iPad. So as I sit, going on hour 24 of travel time, tummy rumbling, I tend to fantasize about what I will make when I get home. Or what I can eat at the airport. Or if that cough drop in my bag will stop the grumbling. And it’s a bit much to spend $9 on a questionable Caprese salad.  And I would just like to add that trapping us on a flight with *zero* free entertainment options (not even a terrible, one-sided documentary?) and then charging $6 per hour for Wi-Fi, but not make charging ports available, is simple extortion. My butt hurts. My foot is asleep. And I want my two bites of stale pretzels that I am entitled to!

 

And the previous rant has nothing to do with anything except that I’m hungry on this plane and wrists are contorted into weird typing angles as the man in front of my has his seat fully reclined into my personal bubble and I have no idea what I’m actually typing. Anyway, onto to the recipe I made before I left on my work trip. This recipe combines some of my most favoritest things (in no particular order): butter, garlic, pasta, and crab. And because I was feeling guilty, I added some zucchini into the final sauté. The recipe itself has no special story except to say that one day I wanted shrimp scampi because of my love for butter and garlic, but then the grocery store had a special on crab, so I went for it.

Note – I was able to find quality, shelled crab at a decent price. If you cannot, and want to splurge, find a nice whole crab and go through the work of steaming and shelling (which I certainly would have done because I am obsessed). If not, you can substitute shrimp, or even some nice boned white flake fish (like cod… Cod scampi? This post is counterproductive because now I’m hungrier than ever and we still have 45 minutes until our descent). If you choose the fish, add it halfway through the zucchini sauté and then add a lid to the pan to let it steam.

Ingredients:

1 stick of butter (stop with the judgey eyes – SURPRISE: scampi is mostly butter. Let’s move on.)

1/2 head of garlic, peeled and minced [about ¼ cup] (use fresh, please. I will admit to using jarred on many blasphemic occasions, but never in scampi)

1 large onion, diced (Yellow, brown, or sweet are all fine here)

2 cups dry white wine, divided (one in a measuring cup, one in a wine glass)

2 lemons, juiced

pinch of red pepper flakes (optional)

dash of Tapatío

dash of Worcestershire sauce

1 large zucchini, halved and thinly sliced

half box of angel hair pasta (you may use whole wheat if that will make your conscience feel better, but to be honest it won’t do much for that stick of butter you already put in your pan)

8 oz fresh crab meat, picked through for shells

1 Tbls packed fresh basil, thinly sliced 

1.     Bring a large pot of salted water to boil.

2.     In a large pan, melt the butter over medium heat.

3.     Once all melted and starting to foam, add the diced onion. Salt, and cook, stirring occasionally, until they start to turn translucent, but before the butter starts to burn. Reduce the heat, if necessary.

4.     Add the garlic, and cook a few minutes, until fragrant.

5.     Add 1 cup of wine (have you been drinking the other?), and cook just until the alcohol evaporates (usually about 2-3 minutes). Add the lemon juice, red pepper flakes, and dashes of Tapatío and Worcestershire sauces, to taste.

6.     Add the angel hair to the boiling water and cook per package directions (usually about 4 minutes).

7.     Add the zucchini to the scampi mixture. Toss to combine, and cook until zucchini is tender (usually just about the same time as the pasta takes to cook).

8.     Add the crab to scampi, and toss to combine. Toss to combine, place a lid on the pan, and turn off the heat (but leave the pan on the burner). Let the carry-over heat warm the crab while you drain the pasta.

9.     Personal preference: I like to toss the pasta and the whole scampi mixture together in the large pasta pot. Serve, finishing with the basil.