Recipe: Khinkali (or how I learned to love the Caucasus)

During my last trip abroad I spent a significant amount of time immersed in the culture of "the heavy." Heavy is hard to define by simply using words and is best described by example. Briefly, it is a phenomenon that is most purely displayed outside of the boundaries of Western culture. The realm of the heavy is one that encompasses taxi drivers, drunkenly consuming offal at odd hours of the night, tacky, anachronistic pop music, creative swears, Ladas, street food, mustaches, hairy chests, gold chains, and poor english. Eastern Europe, The Balkans, and Turkey are decidedly heavy. North Africa is heavy. The Caucasus, Iran, Kazakhstan, Uzbekistan, and Turkmenistan are all very very heavy. I suppose that the closest that America can offer is the stereotypic uneducated southerner or rural dwellers of remote Appalachia but heaviness in the context mentioned above goes far beyond trailer parks, relying instead on the weight of thousands of years of historical narrative.

Definitely heavy.

I realized my vacation would be heavy as soon as I arrived at our apartment in Thessaloniki, Greece. As the front door swung open, six foot tall "Tzenni" from Tibilisi embraced me and kissed me brusquely on both cheeks, welcoming me into her home. Already feeling a degree of culture shock, I felt further alienated as I was baptized into Georgian cuisine and culture by way of Tzenni's home-made vodka, which would later be consumed on a daily basis. I quickly warmed up to the heavy stories of the bright days of Georgia under Communist rule and even sang the Soviet song Katyusha together over shots of vodka. But in most cultures alcohol can never be served alone or without company...

While I was lucky enough to eat a number of Georgian delicacies, I was treated twice to one of the favorite Georgian specialities, Khinkali. Khinkali are rather similar to Beijing soup dumplings but differ in that they are boiled and that there is less soup content than in their Chinese counterparts. A few times I commented on the relationship between soup dumplings and khinkali but my musings were immediately put down as impossibilities - this was GEORGIAN food. However, with Georgia's position between Europe and Asia it would not be inconceivable that the dish was introduced by travelers plying their wares and importing spices between the two continents. As an aside it would be fascinating to explore dumplings around the world and to look at their similarities and differences.

In any case, this brings us to the actual production of khinkali (you didn't think that I would eat these things and not learn how to make them??).

I will write the recipe using the proportions that were used by Tzenni. WARNING: these quantities need to be cut down. I have converted to non-metric units but Tzenni does not know how to cook for less than 10 people. The yield should be somewhere around 50 or 60 of these things in the quantity I list. A hungry individual without being pressed by a large, imposing Georgian woman will eat maybe 10. Of course, the last time I wolfed these down I'm convinced that I ate 20 but now that doesn't seem quite possible. I think it was the Chacha talking and the raucous lunch that I had in my apartment. A normal person would be happy with around 6.

Filling:
1 pound ground beef/ground pork mixture (you can use lamb or any ground meat of your liking, really)
1 large bunch of parsley
2 medium sized onions (red onions are good)
1 fresh hot pepper (addition is optional and type of pepper added should be based on your tolerance of spice)

In a food processor chop the onions, parsley, and hot pepper finely. There should be plenty of liquid from the parsley and onion which should be kept. Add to the meat in a large mixing bowl. Add about 2 tbsp of salt and mix by hand. Since the dumplings should be juicy and soupy inside there needs to be enough water in the filling. Add approx. half a cup of water to the meat to ensure juicy-ness. Let filling stand for 2 hours in orders to marinate fully.

Meat Slurry: better than it looks!

Dough:
[note: the quantity of dough used below is more than enough than for the quantity of filling above. you'd probably want to cut the amount used in half]
4 pounds white flour
1 whole egg
4 tbsp salt
cold water

I don't have a fancy kitchen-aid mixer so I am not sure how you make things like pasta dough in one of those contraptions but if you have one you probably can figure out how to make the above dough...
Mix in the cold water slowly (by hand) with the flour, egg, and salt. This will take a lot of muscle but keep adding the water just until the point that the dough is not sticky. You can add a little extra flour if you over-do it. Knead the dough for about 20 minutes until it's stiff.

This still needed about 5 more minutes work but it was STIFF!

Roll out the dough to a thickness of approx. 1/2 - 1 inch and cut approximately 2 inch diameter "holes" out of the dough (see photo below).

You can use an average size glass to punch the "rounds" (or your fists if you're talented).

Roll these cut out pieces into equally sized rounds with consistent thickness (1/8 inch approx). Think tortilla thickness.

Roll out the rounds - using an empty bottle of vodka or wine will impress your guests.

Add the filling (about a spoonful).

Note the finished dumpling to the other works in progress.

Now comes the tricky part: you will need to fold the khinkali such that the edges of the "pasta" fold over each-other and can be sealed shut by creating a little stem on top (think of a pumpkin's stem). Making the dumplings is NOT easy and will take a bit of practice. Be patient and you will eventually get it. The point is for the Khinkali not to explode or open while boiling so the little stem needs to be pinched tightly. Again - see below photos for a better illustration.

This will not be easy.

Perfection.

Boil the khinkali in salted water upside down until they are tender and float (should take about 8-10 minutes). When removing from the pot, pour cold water on top to keep the khinkali from getting sticky. Once you've got a lot of practice you are encouraged to remove the khinkali from the boiling water with your bare hands (if Tzenni's grandmother who lived to 105 did it so can you!).

Khinkali are eaten by hand immediately as they are removed from the pot and garnished simply with black pepper. They are also great lightly fried in oil until brown the next day. Drink copious amounts of Georgian brandy, wine, and Chacha to complete the total effect! (Of course, if you can't get Georgian booze - which is very likely - moonshine of most types will do).

Guest Recipe: Soul Rolls: Cookin' with Coolio

I'm not entirely sure how many of you out there are familiar with Coolio's YouTube cooking show but I watched it again recently and I could NOT stop laughing. Most of you recall Coolio as the lampooned mid 90's rapper whose hit single "Gangsta's Paradise" was featured in the Michelle Pfeiffer film "Dangerous Minds." The music video is HI-larious and stars Michelle Pfeiffer reprising her role in the movie. Watch it. Now.

Coolio's music career failed to gel and now he's apparently trying to start a catering business - HA. Biggie and TuPac roll in their graves, I'm sure.

In any case, check out the following episode of Cookin' with Coolio - you won't regret it!
(There are a few profanities thrown around FYI)

Max

Recipe: Chestnut Gelato

Finally, it's chestnut season.  This means that it's also time to get creative with this simple and amazing nut.  Hot chestnuts are one of the great universal pleasures harkening the arrival of winter but unfortunately the once omnipresent roasting chestnut have fallen out of vogue.  For those of you who never have had a chestnut they are best when eaten warm, having been fresh roasted or boiled.  Peeling off the thick, brown skin reveals an off-white tender, nutty, sweet flesh that has a subtle and amazing flavor.  Chestnuts can be added to any number of dishes, such as ravioli filling, for example.  

Today, though, I decided to make chestnut gelato with the Missouri chestnuts my Mom brought home.  

The recipe is very simple, provided you have an ice-cream maker.  I suppose one could hand-churn the ice-cream but it's a tiring process - this would work as old-fashioned freezer-frozen ice cream as well.  This recipe is adapted from Gelato: Italian Ice Creams, Sorbetti and Granite by Pamela Sheldon Johns.

You will need:

2 cups whole milk

1/2 vanilla pod (I used Madagascar Vanilla from Penzey's Spices)

2/3 cups sugar

1 cup chestnut purée

4 egg yolks

1 cup heavy cream

Boil chestnuts in slightly salty water until they are tender (cut one in half to test how soft it is - shouldn't yield too much resistance when you bite into it).  Heat milk and cream until it just starts to froth, turn down heat, scrape the vanilla seeds into the milk and add the bean pod into the milk - make sure to stir the whole time to avoid burning the bottom of the pot/ scalding the milk.  Let the milk stand for 30 minutes.  

Cream the yolks and sugar.  Combine chestnuts with the wet ingredients and mix until smooth and fully integrated.  Reheat the milk, remove the vanilla bean pods, and SLOWLY combine the milk with the yolk-sugar-chestnut mixture.  Careful not to add it too quickly or you will cook the egg!  Once combined you're pretty much ready to go.  Chill the ice cream thoroughly and proceed making it in your ice-cream-making contraption!

I tasted mine finally today, after "forgetting" to bring it to thanksgiving dinner and it was truly great!

Keep tuned for the next ice cream recipe where I'll be playing around with Star Anise!

Max

Essay: Cooking Silently: Liza Shore

By permission from cooking... silently (See original post: Whoopie Pies)


Ask anyone who even remotely knows me, and they'll tell you: for at least six months I have been proclaiming the whoopie pie as the next big dessert.

Why? Well, I'm glad you asked.

The whoopie pie has humble, but not very detailed, origins. A popular East coast treat, they are most commonly found in the heart of New England. They are often attributed to the Pennsylvania Dutch, but there is not much literature (perhaps this is my calling? Whoopie pie literature?) offering more than that. Regardless, I will forever have an image in my head of early American settlers walking across the landscape holding whoopie pies in waxed paper. There are plenty of urban legends circulating, too. Some say that whoopie pies were originally created to be easily transportable, individual cakes. Some say that they got their name from the exclamations of children who loved the treats. And I remember reading once that their popularity was somehow tied to the invention of Marshmallow Fluff. Wherever they were created and why, I'm just glad they're catching on.

The most wonderful thing to me about the whoopie pie is that it is completely antithetical to the most recent trend in baked goods, cupcakes. I think we're all starting to realize that it's actually very hard to find an exceptional cupcake. It's not hard to find one that LOOKS amazing, but usually the taste and/or texture disappoints. Cupcakes, plain and simple, try to win us over with their looks. Whoopie pies... don't.

Once I embarked on my whoopie pie crusade, it took quite a bit of tinkering to come up with what I felt was the perfect recipe. Part of my goal was to have a really good base recipe-- something that could be altered for flavor without changing texture or consistency. I wanted my dry ingredient proportions to stay essentially the same, so that only the wet ingredients would really vary. It wasn't all fun and games, landing on the perfect recipe. The chocolate batter alone went through several iterations. An attempt at a cinnamon cake resulted in something that tasted eerily similar to Cinnamon Toast Crunch. One crazed night, in an attempt to make perfectly uniform Whoopie Pies, I bought a plunger-gun that supposedly dispenses batter evenly. It didn't. These whoopie pies were turning out to be quite the endeavor, I tell you!

My other goal was to come up with a perfect, and shortening-free filling. For whatever reason, most whoopie pie recipes call for shortening in both the filling and in the cake. And, while I may tend to have shortening on hand in my freezer at all times, I know most people don't. It's an ingredient that people are scared of, hesitant to buy: "When else am I going to use that?" Lucky for us, there's butter!

So, regarding frosting, there are two options in my opinion. One is a simple butter/powdered sugar frosting. The key to this is creaming the butter forEVER, otherwise it will taste too thick. Cream it, cream it, and then cream it more, until it is super light and fluffy. Remember: when it comes to frosting, you really can't over-cream. Add a splash of vanilla and a pinch of salt with the powdered sugar. The other option is an italian meringue buttercream, a rich frosting lightened with egg whites. Recipes vary in quantities, and I haven't found one that I'm married to, but Martha Stewart and Dorie Greenspan will never lead you wrong.

And now, without further ado, my Whoopie Pie recipe-- fluffy, spongy, moist, and delicious slathered with frosting.

Chocolate Whoopie Pies

2 c flour
1/2 c cocoa powder
1 1/4 t baking soda
1 t salt
1 c buttermilk
1 t vanilla
1 stick butter
1 c brown sugar
1 egg


Whisk together dry ingredients. Add vanilla to buttermilk. Cream butter and sugar. Beat in egg. Alternate additions of wet and dry ingredients, beginning and ending with the dry. Bake at 350, until cakes spring back to the touch.