November 30, 2009
Learning to Love Olive Oil
Olives on the way to pressing, courtesy California Olive Oil Council
Olive oil has never been a particular passion for me, although I cook with it almost daily. Its main appeal is utility—creating texture and moisture; browning without sticking—more than taste. But after attending a recent Smithsonian Resident Associates event about Italian foods, I won’t be taking olive oil for granted anymore.
The speaker, Nancy Harmon Jenkins, is the author of The New Mediterranean Diet Cookbook, which promotes extra virgin olive oil as a healthful source of monounsaturated fat and antioxidants.
Jenkins is such a connoisseur that she compares extra virgin olive oils to wines, each with its own subtle complexities of flavor, color and structure, based on factors like terroir, production methods, and the type and age of the fruits harvested. There’s one big difference, though, she noted: while wine improves with age, olive oil does not. It can lose its strongest flavors in a matter of weeks.
I was surprised to learn that unripe olives can make some of the most flavorful oils, and even more startled by photographs of such oils—such a bright, almost neon green! I’ve always assumed that olive oil should be golden, since that’s what the main supermarket brands look like, but now I understand that the color reflects the maturity of the olives pressed. Darker oils usually come from riper olives and have milder flavors.
A few more surprising facts:
—The terms “first pressing” and “cold pressed” don’t mean much on a bottle of olive oil that’s already labeled “virgin.” There is only one pressing involved, and it always takes place at ambient temperature, says Jenkins. Although some producers use heat and chemicals to extract any remaining oil from a batch of olives after a first pressing, this secondary oil cannot be labeled “virgin” and is usually sold for fuel or animal feed. The difference between “virgin” and “extra virgin” is the percentage of acidity allowed (up to 2 percent and 0.8 percent, respectively, according to the International Olive Council).
—Italians consume about 3 gallons of olive oil per person, per year, but Greeks consume the most in the world—about 5 gallons per capita annually!
—Olive oil goes rancid rapidly when exposed to light and heat, so although it looks nice in brightly-lit displays or sunny shop windows, you shouldn’t buy those bottles (and you should scold your shopkeeper for damaging the oil, Jenkins says). At home, store most of your oil in the cellar and only keep a small container on the counter for daily use. Be sure to clean that container before refilling each time, so you won’t end up adding good oil to rancid remainders.
For the tasting portion of the presentation, each of us received five plastic shot glasses filled with olive oils in various hues of greenish-gold. An authentic olive oil tasting, Jenkins noted, would have featured cups made of blue glass, so that our taste impressions would not be influenced by the oil’s color.
She instructed us to hold each glass in the palm of one hand, covering it with the other hand, and make a swirling motion. (The point was to warm the oil slightly, but most of us simply spilled it on ourselves.) Then, following her lead, we lifted the glass to our lips and attempted to “aspirate” the oil, sipping and breathing in simultaneously to create a sort of mist on our palates. This resulted in a collective cacophony of slurping, choking, and chuckling among the tasting virgins, followed by a thoughtful silence while we tried to sort out the flavors Jenkins was describing. The Castello di Ama from Tuscany-Rivera was peppery; the La Spineta from Puglia was grassy (with an almond aftertaste, she said, though I didn’t get that) while the Sicilian Olio Verde tasted like raw artichokes. The final one, a Monti Iblei from Sicily, tasted like green tomatoes.
Knowing all this, I admit that I’ll still probably buy whatever extra-virgin olive oil is on sale at the supermarket most of the time (I can’t afford to be a gourmet about everything), but I’ll be adventurous when I come across an opportunity to sample different types. In the meantime, I’d better practice aspirating politely!
To get a visual sense of the production process from harvest to bottling, check out this Flickr user’s photo essay of an olive harvest in Sicily, or this video about olive oil production in Tuscany.
November 25, 2009
Turkey-Day Tipples
Thanksgiving table with food, courtesy of Flickr user Mr. T in DC
Legend has it that the Pilgrims landed at Plymouth Rock in present-day Massachusetts, rather than traveling farther, because they were running low on provisions—namely beer. The first structure they built is even said to have been a brewery.
Like so much about the Thanksgiving story, though, this anecdote is probably bogus. As Bob Skilnik, author of Beer & Food: An American History points out on his blog, the pilgrims were indeed fond of beer, but the evidence doesn’t support either the beer shortage or the hasty brewery tale.
But even if the Pilgrims didn’t hoist frothy mugs of ale at the first Thanksgiving, there’s no reason you shouldn’t.
In fact, in all the turkey vs. sides chatter going on lately, let’s not forget the liquid portion of the meal. Even if your family doesn’t drive you to drink, why not put as much thought into the beverages as the rest of the feast?
The Washington Post suggests serving up “iconic American wines” with the holiday meal, from California chardonnay, zinfandel and sparkling wine to Oregon pinot gris, Washington riesling, and local wines—which have been popping up in all sorts of unlikely places.
Another strategy is to go with a cocktail that highlights some of the flavors of the season. Chow has a couple of tasty-sounding candidates: the Log Cabin combines the classic fall ingredients of maple and apple, and Spiced Cranberry Sangria sounds like the perfect accompaniment to turkey with all the fixin’s (or, just the fixin’s, as the case may be). Leite’s Culinaria offers up a recipe for a Fall Spice Cordial that seems like it would cap off the meal nicely.
You could also opt for a thematically appropriate cocktail. The Pilgrim is made with rum (New England rum would be proper, according to the CocktailDB recipe, but since it hasn’t been made there since before the Prohibition era, other rums will do), lemon or lime juice and orange liqueur (such as Cointreau or Orange Curacao). Some recipes (like this one at Drinks Mixer) also call for angostura bitters and pimento herbal liqueur. The Mayflower cocktail, with brandy, Cointreau, Pernod, dry and sweet vermouth and orange bitters, sounds like it would make you feel like a passenger on a transatlantic sea voyage.
Of course, let’s not forget those frothy mugs. According to Serious Eats, “Malty beer resonates with the caramelized skin of a turkey and brings out the herbal flavors in stuffing. Beer’s carbonation and bitterness cleanses and refreshes the palate between bites.” Their recommended beer pairings include French-style farmhouse ales, American ambers and yeasty Belgian beers.
Whatever you decide to drink, be sure to raise a glass to all that you have to be thankful about—not least that you don’t have to spend a dismal, death-filled winter in a strange new country, like the Pilgrims did.
November 24, 2009
Stuff the Safe Way
iStockphoto
Stuffing is an integral part of any Thanksgiving spread, but this holiday tradition has the potential to be a holiday hazard. In the past few years, a debate has started about whether or not it’s safe to cook stuffing inside the bird.
The safety issue arises because when ingredients are put into a raw turkey, they come in contact with juices that could be contaminated with salmonella. Consequently, they have to be cooked to a minimum of 165 degrees to kill any possible bacteria. Sure, that seems easy enough. You’re probably thinking that because you took the temperature of the meat, and that was at a nice and safe 165, the stuffing should be good to go. Right?
Wrong. As a general rule—this applies to everything, not just turkeys—the outside cooks faster than the inside. So, while your bird might be sitting pretty at 165 degrees, the stuffing on the inside might only be at 145. If you cook the turkey until the stuffing reaches 165, the meat on the outside might have reached 180 and will be dry. Therein lies the problem. It’s a battle between undercooked and possibly dangerous stuffing and the classic Thanksgiving mistake of dry turkey.
Stuffing a turkey isn’t inherently evil, though a certain celebrity chef might want you to believe otherwise. Here are some tips to help you avoid both salmonella and a dry turkey.
1. Forego the tradition and cook the stuffing outside of the bird.
Both Alton Brown and food scientist Harold McGee advocate for this method.
2. Use ice packs while thawing the turkey.
McGee has an innovative way to cook the dark meat of a turkey (which he says is best at 180 degrees) while not overcooking the white meat. While thawing the turkey, he puts ice packs over the breasts of the turkey. When the rest of the bird has reached 60 degrees, the breast will only be at 40. While he doesn’t approve of stuffing a turkey at all, this method could allow the stuffing to reach a safe temperature before the meat gets overdone.
3. Cook the stuffing separately and stuff it inside the turkey while it’s resting.
This is Alton Brown’s preferred method. You can ensure that your stuffing has reached the proper temperature and then let it soak up some turkey flavor while the bird rests.
If you must stay traditional and cook the stuffing inside of the bird, the USDA has a few recommendations:
1. Stuff loosely.
The denser the stuffing in the bird, the more time it will take to get it to a safe temperature. Allow for expansion, and stuff the bird loosely. The USDA recommends ¾ cup for every pound of turkey.
2. Cook any raw meat, poultry or shellfish product before stuffing it into the turkey.
3. Stuff with a moist stuffing.
Heat destroys bacteria faster in a wet environment than in a dry one.
Although I haven’t attempted my own turkey dinner yet, I think I’ll opt for the safest method of just cooking the stuffing outside of the bird. No fuss. No worries. Plus, the top of the stuffing gets nice and crunchy.
How do you usually cook your Thanksgiving turkey?
November 23, 2009
Taking Sides: A Vegetarian Thanksgiving
The New York Times food section recently featured a fun face-off between writers Kim Severson and Julia Moskin over what you might call a silly question: What’s more important on a Thanksgiving table, the turkey or the side dishes? Moskin wrote an article titled “Show-Off Sides to Rival the Pull of a Drumstick,” while Severson insisted that “After the Bird, Everything Else is Secondary.”
I’m with Moskin on this one. I’ll probably eat a few bites of turkey this Thursday, but I’m much more interested in the side dishes. That’s probably because I was a total vegetarian for about a decade—and since my family’s not, that usually meant a plateful of sides WAS my main course.
Even though I eat poultry now, I’m conditioned when it comes to Thanksgiving. I’ve gotten used to earmarking veggie-centric recipes in cookbooks and food magazines, drooling over things like maple-glazed Brussels sprouts or stuffed squash, and simply shrugging while my mother frets over how long to cook the turkey. In the beginning, at her urging, I would prepare some sort of alternative protein-based main for myself: a veggie burger with gourmet cheese, a “nutloaf,” even a Tofurkey (not a fan). But I stopped after realizing that this only displaced valuable real estate in my stomach—I’d rather have room for more all those tasty vegetables, and of course, pie!
Courtesy Flickr user Lawrence OP
For those of you who are vegetarians—or will be hosting one—here are a few sources for recipe ideas:
1) Gourmet magazine is no more, sadly, but you can still enjoy its gorgeous online gallery of vegetarian Thanksgiving mains, like potato-kale galette, chickpea-eggplant tarts, and pumpkin stuffed with vegetable stew.
2) The Washington Post’s food blog, All You Can Eat, has a great post today on vegetarian entrees for the holidays.
3) Ever since I saw Molly Wizenberg’s recipe for Butternut Squash and Cheddar Bread Pudding in Bon Appetit magazine, I’ve been dreaming of how good it will taste on our Thanksgiving table this week. You can find more vegetarian recipes in the recipe index of her lovely blog, Orangette—a few of my favorites include her dreamy white beans, cream-braised brussels sprouts and French-style warm lentil salad.
4) Blogger Leigh Angel’s “Veggie Might” column rounds up some classic Thanksgiving sides, like sweet potato casserole, and includes an original recipe for roasted winter squash and kale. She also has some interesting etiquette tips for hosts, such as this: Make sure there’s plenty for everyone. Carnivores may be so attracted to the novelty of fake meat that they don’t leave enough for the actual vegetarians! (In my experience, not a problem with Tofurkey; my family members looked genuinely afraid of it.)
5) The vegetarian recipe index at 101 Cookbooks, one of my favorite food blogs, includes treats like roasted corn pudding in acorn squash, double broccoli quinoa, and orange pan-glazed tempeh.
And I’m sure you all have some great ideas to share, too…let’s hear ‘em!
November 20, 2009
Happy First Birthday to Us
One year ago, on November 21, a blog was born here at Smithsonian.com. A FAT little blog, you might say.
But let’s leave the baby metaphor behind, shall we? Because it’s going to get kind of weird if we tell you to eat our baby. Think of FAT more as a friendly cafe, or maybe a street cart, serving up heaping helpings of food news, science and culture. (Hey, that’s catchy. We should use that as a tagline or something.)
We’ve prepared a special birthday menu of past posts to peruse. We hope you enjoy the feast, and as always, we welcome your feedback! (Not your food back. That could be gross.)
Bite-Sized Food History
Drinks
Ernest Hemingway’s Favorite Cocktails
Healthy Stuff
Should sugar be a controlled substance?
Is eating red meat dangerous to your health?
Five Ways to Eat
Seafood and Poultry
The Best Fish & Chips in Ireland
Asides
Why does nothing rhyme with orange?
What would you choose for your very last meal?
Sweet Treats
All You Ever Wanted to Know About Chocolate
Ice Creams for the Savory-Toothed
Oh, No Dessert For Me, I’m Just Looking
