Zawazawa Kitchen

Flounder with Lime Chives and Dulse over Pea Sprouts

We celebrated Yoshie's return to Boston with this recipe. We found a nice piece of flounder and some fresh dulse and put them together with what we had at hand.

We were looking for a play of different colours and textures and with different ways that salt comes into food.

• A small-grained purple rice (we used a Chinese rice but there are some good Thai rices of this type)
• A variety of onions or shallots
• Pea greens
• Garlic slivers
• Sea salt
• Flounder (or other white fish like sole)
• Corn starch
• Chives
• Dulse
• Lime oil

We began with a bed of rice. We cooked it in a rice cooker with small bits of onions and shallots.

For the pea sprouts we first cooked up some slivers of garlic in grapeseed d oil then flash cooked these with the pea sprouts in a wok.

The flounder we dredged in corn starch into which we had grated lime and chopped fresh chives. We then pan fired it quickly in the oil we used to cook the garlic.

While cooking the fish we also crisped up the dulse in a hot pan.

To finish we made a bed of the rice, layered the pea sprouts on top and placed the fish on this. On the fish we sprinkled the dulse, added some fresh chopped chives, squeezed on some lime juice and added a few drops of lime oil.

We accompanied with a bottle of 2007 Aigle from Switzerland.

Melting Onions Crisping Onions

Every time I try to melt onions I think of Micheline Gill. Micheline has been one of our best friends since we have moved to Vancouver. Over the years she has given us, especially Yoshie, the kind of deep spiritual support that only an older person can provide. In part it is her love of life that has moved us and taught us. In her 80s she can stay up drinking, talking and dancing until well after midnight. And as the night ages she becomes more graceful with it.

One of our most treasured things is a piece of needle work, lace actually, half finished, still on its pencilled pattern, that Micheline inherited from her own grandmother. What is it about our aesthetic that wants things incomplete? No doubt part of it is the opening of space (ma no torikata in Japanese). And them there is the potential that something incomplete has - not final, not ended. I think of this each time I see the tattered lace on its yellowed paper, and think of things to come, even if they have been left in the past.

Micheline is one of the best cooks we know, and one of the things she does better than anyone is onions. Her onion tarts, compotes, sauces, whatever are smooth, rich and sweet and just onion. If Yoshie is the kami-sama of tomatoes then Micheline rules over onions. Not surprizing I suppose, as she is originally from Belgium and came to Vancouver with her husband Jimmy (who we still miss) after WWII. And people in Belgium know their onions.

To melt onions all one really needs is good yellow onions, some oil, some butter, some salt, a knife and time. Mostly time. Slice the onions into rings paper thin. Soak them in ice cold water, dry and sprinkle with lots of salt. In a pan melt butter and stir in olive oil under low, low heat. As low as you can get and still melt the butter. Then stir in the onions and let them cook. This will take at least an hour. The onions will soften, become transparent, then slowly turn a softer yellow white. At the end, if you like, though it is hardly necessary, bring up the heat to medium and add some white wine (I am drinking a cheap Spanish Rioja from 100% Viura grapes as I write). Use on steaks, with scallops, spread on toast ... Onions are basically good things.

Onions are such good things that it is good to have several ways to prepare them (and of course red or white onions are good sliced thin and raw into many salads). Another approach we are using a lot in Boston is to cook them over medium low heat on a dry pan. Again, slice them thin, add salt, have the pan a little hotter but still below medium, and dry them until they are almost crispy. This makes a great garnish on any meet or a more robust fish. It is good in salads too.

Onions.

Scallops with Ginger and Shallots

This is a simple scallop dish that we have been working on for a few years. It seems to be pretty stable and brings out what we like best about scallops - the sweetness, the texture, the way they can bring out and harmonize contrasting flavours.

We most recently cooked this on Friday April 25 when we had some friends from Monitor over for a small party (given the size of our place in the South End of Boston it is hard to have anything other than a small party!).

• Large and very fresh scallops
• Ginger, minced
• Shallots, minced
• Green onions (negi), the whites thin sliced, the part between the white and the darker green julienned into strips about 3 cm long, the dark green part thin sliced
• Chives
• Salt
• Lemon
• Lemon zest
• White wine
• A bit of grape seed oil

Dry the scallops on paper towel, sprinkling with a bit of sea salt. Drying makes it much easier to cook the scallops.

Mince the ginger and shallots, thin slice the white of the green onion. Cook gently in a bit of grape seed oil for about twenty minutes letting them blend. Bring up the heat to low medium, add a good splash of white wine and reduce.

Cook the scallops in a medium hot pan with as little oil as possible. Get a nice golden crisp on the outside. The inside should still be raw (this is important).

Remove the scallops to a warm serving dish. Put the ginger-shallot mixture into the pan that the scallops were cooked in and scrape the bits of scallop off the bottom and into the sauce. Add a bit more wine, the julienned parts of the green onion and cook for about three minutes. Add some lemon juice and adjust the seasoning (add a bit more salt, some black pepper if you like).

Pour the sauce over the scallops. Scatter on the thin-sliced dark green end of the green onion and/or some chives. Add a bit of lemon zest and a few drops of olive oil (just a very few drops).

Done.

Some variations,

• Sprinkle with deep fried shallots or deep fried garlic
• Sprinkle with bacon bits (in this case put a very small amount of the bacon fat into the sauce)
• Add small shrimp to the sauce
• Sprinkle on some edible flowers

On Friday we had this with a bottle of 2006 Christine et Stephanie Delarze from Aigle in Switzerland. A small winery on the upper Loire just inside the Swiss Alps.

Kasumi's Mushroom Pasta

I developed this recipe for Kasumi, who loves mushrooms almost as much as I do and must be part hobbit! This approach plays on a couple of themes that we use quite often - using the same ingredients different ways in the same dish, layering flavours, combining different cooking methods, drying to get harmonics between the flavours and even letting in the odd discord. If you can figure out how to do it, even add some blue notes to the flavour mix!

Ingredients

• Various types of mushroom, at least three, as many as five (normal button mushrooms make a good base, but try to find shitake, portabello, even chanterelles and porcini - whatever is in the store and looks freash and interesting)
• Garlic (lots)
• Various types of onions, leeks, shallots
• A hot pepper
• An interesting white, off dry can work
• Various herbs (we tend to use thyme or sage)
• Lemon zest
• Olive oil
• Pasta (a wide noodle works well with this)
• The pasta water (don't throw it all out)
• Some butter (unless you are cooking for vegans)
• Some cream (optional, Yoshie and Adrian don't like cream so split the base before you add the cream)
• Small tomatoes (optional)

Fine mince a mixture of onions and garlic and start it at a very low simmer in an olive oil, usually a fairly rich one, or a bit peppery (you will keep the heat low so olive oil is fine for this). Slice up a mixture of onions (try different types), shallots, even leeks. Cut them on the long bias so that you get strings of onions or strips of leeks. Do the same with the garlic, lots of garlic. Add these to the fine mince, add a bit more olive oil, salt, and cook low but hot enough to caramelize. Don't forget to add salt - sea salt. This usually takes about an hour!

Dry cook or roast the various mushrooms (do not use oil, it is not needed and weakens the flavour). We usually leave the pieces quite big, quartering the button mushrooms. Keep the heat low. The mushrooms will let out a lot of liquid and you want it to all steam off. Once the mushrooms have let out their liquid and begun to dry add in the herbs (sage or thyme are especially good). This also takes about an hour.

After the onion garlic mixture and the mushrooms have been on for about forty minutes you can start the pasta. This is also a good time to add in a bit of hot pepper to the mushrooms. Open the pepper, get rid of seeds and membranes, dice (but do not mince) and add to one of the mushroom pans.

When the pasta is ready drain and retain about a cup of the liquid.

Turn up the heat on the onion pan. Add all of the mushrooms to the onion pan, add a healthy splash of white wine, simmer down. If you like, add a handful of small tomatoes, cut in half or quarters. This will be too dry to make a good sauce, so add a big dab of butter (unless you are cooking for vegans). Split into two pans, add cream and a splash of pasta water to one and just the pasta water to the other (this is for those who do not like cream).

Toss with the pasta in large bowls. Add some of whatever herbs you used fresh. Grind on some pepper and a bit of lemon zest. A tiny dribble of olive oil can also be nice.

Serve with a good white wine, or red if you prefer.

Writeen listening to Leonard Cohen and drinking a 2003 Bianco Alde Barbaresco, from Italy. An old man's wine, and we were listening to Cohen's newer (written when he was older) songs. Last things thoughts for some reason.