Before Elias Cairo of Olympic Provisions was a charcutier, he was a chef. He worked in kitchens all over Europe and trained among some of the best. But much of his training was done in restaurants and street stalls in big cities and small villages, eating traditional foods in their hometown. In Madrid, that meant late night eats. Exit a bar in the city's wee hours and you're in a good eats wonderland. I asked Eli about some of his favorite late night Spanish bites, and his enthusiasm was contagious. These buñuelos de chorizo were among the top.
In Joseph Dabney's, The Food, Folklore, and Art of Lowcountry Cooking, he spends a chapter on the legacy of benne seeds (pronounced bennie). Bene means sesame in Gambia and Senegal and they were brought to the Carolina-Georgia coastal plain with slaves from Africa in the colonial era. The plants grew so well on the slave plots that Lowcountry farmers quickly realized their humidity and fertile soil were perfect grounds for planting the oily, nutty benne seeds.
Fitting my spoils into my suitcase for the trip home was a feat. A similar phenomenon occurred in the wardrobe department. We were both bringing home a flavor of New Orleans, one of my favorite food towns in the world. Eating in New Orleans is eating history - and a story never tasted so good.
It's been a while since I last made crackers at home. Heidi over at 101 Cookbooks reminded me how easy it is and invited a new appreciation for making them. Her basic recipe for a thin olive oil cracker is an absolute gem. It's right up there with Jim Lahey's no-knead bread and Kim Boyce's whole wheat chocolate chip cookie (more on that soon). One of the greatest attributes of her recipe is its adaptability. Think of it as a base from which limitless departures can be made. I chose the route of rye, using Bluebird Grain Farms Dark Northern Rye flour instead of semolina. Its sweet and malty flavor proved to be perfect in cracker form.
Duck fat is a staple in my kitchen and I always keep a tub of it on hand in the freezer. It has a quality that other fats just don't. It tolerates a high temperature, sears ingredients to a lovely golden brown and renders them miraculously grease-free. And yes, all of these reasons are legitimate ones for its use, but the single most beloved feature of duck fat is the sumptuous umami flavor it imparts. There's no other ingredient like it. I use it exclusively for my Roasted Potatoes, but I also use it for meats, seafood and roasted root vegetables.
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