Vegan Massaman Curry, with Tofu, Sweet Potato and Peanuts

 

Although Thai curries were not traditionally Vegan, some communities of Thai Buddhist nuns did choose to completely avoid meat and seafood. And dairy products are rare in the Thai diet, anyway. The principles and spice mixtures used in making Thai curries can be applied to produce some very tasty, as well as nutritious, Vegan versions. Here’s my effort at a Vegan Massaman curry.

 

“Gaeng Massaman,” is richly flavored but not very hot from peppers. The curry paste is made with darkly caramelized garlic and red onion and has aromatic spices like cardamom, cloves and cinnamon. It is also somewhat sweet-sour.  Purchase it at Asian grocery stores, along with the  unsweetened coconut milk. “Maesri,” my preferred brand, is completely Vegan (check other brands, if available, to be sure that shrimp paste, a traditional Thai curry component, is not an ingredient.)

 

Massaman curry flavors reflect the dish’s origins in southern Thailand’s Muslim community, which was ancestrally Malay/Indonesian. Massaman curry almost always has peanuts cooked into it for flavor, and in addition they add to whatever protein the principal ingredient brings. Here, I’m using tofu for the main protein and sweet potato as the vegetable interest, along with the usual peanuts.

 

In the Thai manner, serve this curry with Jasmine rice, or other long grain rice, cooked without salt. (See a rice cooking method in this blog.) A Thai curry dinner would usually include a stir-fried vegetable dish as a side dish for contrast.

 

The recipe serves six to eight.

 

2 (14-ounce) blocks firm or extra firm tofu

1 (4-ounce) can Massaman curry paste (I like “Maesri” brand)

2 tablespoons vegetable oil

1 (13-14 ounce) can unsweetened coconut milk -- shake well before opening

2 cans worth of water

1/2 cup dry-roasted skinned peanuts (unsalted or lightly salted)

1 medium-large sweet potato, about 3/4 pound

Salt, if needed

1 teaspoon lime or lemon juice

Sprigs of cilantro plus fine shreds of a small red hot pepper for garnish

 

Drain tofu. Cut into approximately 3/4-inch cubes. Set aside to drain. Peel and cut the sweet potato into 3/4-inch cubes. Set aside till needed.

 

In a pot over very low heat, gently fry the curry paste in the oil, stirring constantly, until the oil bubbles a little. Add the coconut milk, and stir well. Heat until beginning to boil. Add the water and bring to a full boil.

 

Add the peanuts, reduce heat, and simmer 15 minutes. Add the sweet potatoes and bring back to a boil. Boil gently, stirring occasionally, until sweet potato is becoming tender (test by piercing a piece with a toothpick), 7-8 minutes. Add the cubed, drained tofu, part at a time, stirring very gently. Simmer 4-5 minutes and remove from the heat. Stir in the lime or lemon juice. Taste and add a little salt if needed.

 

Allow to cool for the flavors to mingle. Reheat, stirring very carefully, and serve with unsalted rice. Offer the curry in a serving dish, and garnish lightly with plucked-off cilantro leaves and fine shreds of hot red pepper.

 

 

 

French Mustard Vinaigrette “Left Bank” for Green Salad

 

Vinaigrettes – salad dressings – containing mustard are common in France and French-speaking regions of Switzerland. They are wonderful on simple leafy green salads, or endive salads. The mustard used is Dijon style, not the yellow American mustard designed for hot dogs.  

 

Here’s a Vegan version of the dressing I make that is patterned after a wonderful vinaigrette I had at the “Left Bank,” a French-run restaurant in Saranac Lake, NY. The dressing was served with fresh local endive and was the starter course for lunch.

 

The recipe makes a little over a pint of vinaigrette. Use about 3/4 cup for salad greens for six persons. Any leftover vinaigrette can be stored for a number of days in the refrigerator.

 

1/2 cup Dijon mustard (Left Bank uses whole grain mustard and purees it)

1/2 cup water

6 tablespoons Vegan mayonnaise

6 tablespoons white wine vinegar

2 tablespoons sugar

2 teaspoons salt

1 teaspoon black pepper

2/3 cup sunflower or other non-olive oil

1/3 cup olive oil

 

Mix well with small whisk.

 

Just before serving: toss the vinaigrette with salad greens, using about 3/4 cup for salad for six people. Check a leaf for salt, and add in a little if needed and toss the salad again. Serve dressed greens on individual salad plates.

 

Succotash – Old Fashioned Butter Beans with Fresh Corn

 

A country dish I remember from my childhood in southern New England is succotash, a combination of baby lima beans simmered with fresh corn kernels. It turns out the combination of corn and beans goes back much further, to the indigenous peoples of the New England region. It was adopted into the earliest cuisine of the European colonists, and showed up at many Thanksgiving dinners. Its name derives from a word in the language of the Narragansett people, who once inhabited what’s now Rhode Island.

 

I was reminded of succotash recently when writing an article about Brunswick Stew, a Southern dish in which the two succotash vegetables, cooked together, show up prominently. And then I had occasion to actually make succotash after all these decades when I was tasked with cooking butter beans (w
hich are in fact small lima beans) for a family gathering and thought about adding corn off the cob. It was a big hit with several in the family, and gave me a twinge of nostalgia. Though it’s no longer familiar to a lot of people, especially outside New England, succotash is still a good dish.

 

Here’s a recipe that will serve six as a side vegetable.

 

1 (12-ounce) bag frozen butter beans or baby lima beans

1/2 cup water, plus more as needed

1/2 teaspoon salt, plus more to taste

1/4 teaspoon ground black pepper

2 large ears fresh corn on the cob

2 tablespoons olive oil or vegetable oil

 

Heat a small pot with 1/2 cup water. When it boils, add the frozen beans, salt and pepper. Stir well. When the pot comes a boil again, reduce the heat to low, cover the pot and simmer/steam the beans. Stir frequently and add a little water as needed to keep 1/4 inch or so in the bottom of the pot. Cook until beans are tender, 10 minutes or more.

 

While the beans are simmering, shuck the corn and remove as much corn silk as possible. With a sharp knife slice off the kernels, holding each cob upright in a shallow bowl to catch the corn as it’s cut off.

 

When the beans are tender, add the corn kernels and bring back just to a boil, adding a little water if needed to keep 1/4 inch or so in the bottom of the pot. The corn should simmer 1 1/2 to 2 minutes. Taste a few kernels to check that the corn is done. Do not over cook.

 

Remove from the heat. Holding the lid on the pot, tip the pot above the sink to drain off most of the cooking water. Add oil to the beans and corn, mix well, and taste. If salt is needed, mix it in.

 

Serve now, or after cooling, reheat it in a casserole bowl in the microwave before serving.

 

Coleslaw, Delicatessen-Style

 

Good-old American coleslaw hails from … (wait for it!) … Holland. “Koolsla” in Dutch is pronounced exactly like coleslaw (double “o” in Dutch sounds like the long O in “rose”). Koolsla is the shortened form of “koolsalade” -- cabbage salad.

 

I make coleslaw the New York German deli way, with little mayonnaise, but tangy sweet and sour.

Any smooth-leaved green variety of cabbage seems to produce good coleslaw. Sweetness in the cabbage gets lost with all the seasonings added to it by the time the dish is completed. Savoy cabbage, though I love it for other things, in my experience doesn’t make particularly good coleslaw. Red cabbage produces a spectacular, if unorthodox, coleslaw. It serves well on a holiday buffet table. Specialty slaws for fancy and restaurant fare include one made from Brussels sprouts.

 

The recipe serves six as a side dish, with easily stored left-overs.

1 medium head of green (or red) cabbage or 3/4 of a medium-large head
1 medium-large carrot
2 tablespoons Vegan mayonnaise

1 tablespoon Dijon-style mustard
6 tablespoons white vinegar
4 tablespoons sugar
1-1/2 teaspoons salt, plus more to taste

1/4 teaspoon ground black pepper

Discard any tough outer cabbage leaves. Cut off cabbage’s bottom inch. Cut the head in half through the stem and cut it again into quarters. Set a quarter on a board and cut away the core and any big ribs on the exterior.

 

Shred cabbage finely crosswise, either with a sharp knife on a cutting board, with a mandolin slicer, or in a food processor fitted with a 2-millimeter slicer blade. As you shred it, place cabbage in a very large bowl for mixing.

 

Peel carrot and shred it, using the coarse side of a grater or the food processor fitted with a grater blade. Add it to the cabbage.

 

Add mayonnaise, mustard, vinegar, sugar, salt and pepper. Mix well. It will be dry at first. Let it sit 15 or 20 minutes, mixing from time to time, until the cabbage softens and the juices increase. Taste and adjust salt, vinegar or sugar as desired.

 

Coleslaw is best if allowed to chill for an hour or more, or even up to several days, covered. Mix well and taste before serving and adjust salt, vinegar or sugar if needed.

 

Cooking Great Rice: a wonderful grain that’s naturally gluten free

 

Rice can be wonderful. Yet many Americans have trouble cooking it. When I was a kid, my mother rarely served it, and when she did she used “Minute Rice” because it was “dependable.”

 

I got introduced seriously to rice when I went to Asia as a young man. There over a number of years I got extensive exposure to it, both eating it and cooking it. I’m fussy, frankly, about rice. Rice is so important for many of the dishes I cook I’m focusing this blog post just on cooking rice.

 

While Americans consider rice an accompaniment or side dish, for most Asians, rice is the central dish and the curries, stir-fries, etc., are the accompaniments or “with-rice” dishes. Rice is the principal food for half or more of the world’s population, so much so that in several languages, including Chinese, Thai and Malay/Indonesian, you can’t simply “eat. Rather you “eat rice,” even if it’s non-rice food. Those languages also have at least three words meaning rice, one for the plant, one for the harvested grains, and one for cooked rice. 

 

Here’s the tried-and-true Asian top-of-the-stove cooking method, sometimes called “steaming.” And although nowadays most people in east Asia use electric rice cookers, which simplify the cooking process plus keep the rice hot afterwards, until recent generations, everyone cooked their rice over fire. The stove-top cooking method should work in any American kitchen. But I’ll also mention cooking with a rice cooker, since if you are serious about rice, you’ll eventually use one. For the wonderful and complex seasoned rice dishes, from pilaf to biryani to Mexican yellow rice to Louisiana jambalaya and dirty rice, the cooking methods are different and individual. I’ll describe those with the particular recipes as I add them to the blog.

 

My two favorite types of high-quality white rice available in the US are 1) Thai Jasmine rice, which I use for Southeast and Chinese cooking, and 2) Basmati, a wonderful, fluffy, very long-grained rice from India and Pakistan, which I use with curries and Middle Eastern dishes. American long-grained rice is more like the Indian rice, and is cooked like it. Both at home and at our restaurant, I use principally Thai Jasmine rice and Indian Basmati rice. (Brown rice is almost a different grain, and not traditionally used with Thai, Chinese or Indian dishes. I’ll deal with brown rice at another time, since it has its place.) Various other rices here have their special roles, including Arborio for Italian risotto, Japanese rice for sushi, and American medium-grained rice, which is common in Louisiana, Caribbean and Mexican rice dishes. I’ll  focus here on the two I cook most, Jasmine and Basmati.

 

There are important differences in cooking the two types of white rice, the most important being the amount of water used with the rice. There are several “tricks” that apply to both types of rice: The first is buying good rice; next is rinsing and draining the rice; third is using no salt (however, salt is used in some complex, seasoned rice dishes); fourth is using the correct proportion of water to rice; and finally is not stirring or even uncovering the rice while it’s cooking.

 

“Steamed” White Jasmine Rice (Thai and Chinese style)

Serves six to eight. Leftover rice can be successfully reheated in a microwave.

2 cups long grain white rice (Thai Jasmine; not Uncle Ben’s or Basmati)
2-1/8 cups water
NO salt

Place rice in heavy pot and rinse twice with cool water, draining while holding the rice in with your hand cupped along the edge of the pot.

 

Add 2-1/8 cups cool water and bring to a boil, uncovered. Do not stir, but boil 30 seconds, cover pot tightly, and reduce heat to lowest setting. Simmer 20 minutes without opening. Turn off heat and let sit 10 minutes, still covered. Uncover and fluff rice gently with fork. Cover until needed.

Cooking Basmati Rice, for Indian or Middle Eastern food

 

Serves six to eight. Leftover rice can be successfully reheated in a microwave.

2 cups long grain white rice (preferably Indian Basmati, or Mahatma, long grain rice; not Uncle Ben’s “converted” rice)
2-1/2 cups water

NO salt

Place rice in heavy pot and rinse twice with cool water, draining while holding the rice in with your hand cupped along the edge of the pot.

 

Add 2-1/2 cups cool water and bring to a boil, uncovered. Do not stir, but boil 30 seconds, cover pot tightly, and reduce heat to lowest setting. Simmer 20 minutes without opening. Turn off heat and let sit 10 minutes, still covered. Uncover and fluff rice gently with fork. Cover until needed.

Rice Cooker Method

 

Follow either of the recipes above, except rinse and drain the rice in the rice cooker container rather than a pot. Add the same amount of water as in the recipes above. Cover rice cooker and turn it on, not opening the lid until cooking is complete. When the rice cooker turns off (switching to “warm”), keep the cover on and let sit ten minutes before fluffing the rice. Cover the fluffed rice and it will stay hot for hours while the cooker is still plugged in.

 

Strawberry Sangria for Springtime Entertaining

 

Despite its ominous name, meaning “bleeding” in Spanish, the Iberian wine punch “Sangría” is a cheery, even gentle, drink in warm weather. The congenially sanguine concoction typically features red wine, fruit and ice and is sometimes spiked with brandy or vodka.

 

Although the drink’s history is unclear, sangria appears to go back centuries as a simple mixture of wine with fruit in Spain and Portugal. Much earlier, combining wine with water and sometimes adding lemon or other fruit was a custom in Roman times. And Spain – then Hispania – was one of the Roman Empire’s major wine-producing regions. But wine was discouraged during the multi-century Moorish period in Medieval Spain, so there would not have been continuity with whatever Roman wine customs might previously have prevailed. In any event, by the 20^th century sangria was well-established in Spain.  

Strawberries, which will soon be ripening, make a luscious seasonal sangria. Citrus juice adds balance, and when that juice includes grapefruit it adds a subtle, complex bitterness as well. I enjoy herbal overtones in sangria. Mint, flourishing now, does well, as does fresh rosemary, a perennial in Athens.

 

The traditional sangria wine in Spain is red and made from the Tempranillo grape, most classically from the Rioja region. However, to complement the delicate flavor of strawberries I would use a combination of red and white wines. American bars, by the way, tend to use whatever’s left in already-open bottles to make their “Sangria Special.”

 

Young, inexpensive -- but drinkable – wines, I think, are the way to go, like uncomplicated wines from Spain, Chile, or Australia. A fine wine’s subtleties are masked by the added fruit, herbs and sweetening. Save the good stuff for drinking on its own. Or, better yet, send it to me.

 

The recipe makes about 12 (6-ounce) servings, good for a party. A small punch bowl or a large glass pitcher presents sangria well.

 

Strawberry Sangria

 

1 (750 ml) bottle fruity red wine, such as Tempranillo or Merlot, chilled

1 (750 ml) bottle white wine, such as Sauvignon Blanc or (unoaked) Chardonnay, chilled

1/4 cup brandy or vodka, optional

2 tablespoons frozen grapefruit juice concentrate

3 tablespoons sugar

6 (5-inch) sprigs fresh mint, rinsed, or 2 (3-inch) sprigs rosemary, rinsed – or both

1 small navel orange, organic preferred

1 pound strawberries, organic preferred

3 cups ice cubes

Fresh mint leaves for garnish

 

In a bowl combine the wines, distilled alcohol if used, grapefruit juice concentrate and sugar. Stir to dissolve. Add fresh herbs. Scrub orange but do not peel. Slice crosswise 1/4-inch thick. Reserve 4 middle slices. Add the rest to wine mixture. Rinse and hull strawberries. Slice lengthwise 1/4-inch thick. Reserve a third of them and add remainder to wine mixture.

 

Allow the sangria to mellow for at least half an hour, refrigerated, stirring from time to time. Taste, and add a little moresugar or grapefruit juice if needed for balance. Shortly before serving, strain the mixture into a small punch bowl or a large pitcher. Add the ice cubes and reserved fruit, cutting the orange slices in half.

 

Serve in wine glasses or small tumblers, putting several pieces of strawberry in each glass. Garnish the glass with a fresh mint leaf.

 

Salud!

 

Mince Pie Filling for Pies and Tarts, Vegan in Recent Years

 

I have no idea if anyone reading this will ever actually make homemade mince pie filling. But I wanted to record how over the years and through much trial and error I have learned to make it, just in case someone wishes to try. “Mincemeat,” as it used to be called (it began many centuries ago as a spiced mixture of meat and fruit for baking into pastries around Christmas) is now usually vegetarian. Mince pie is one of those traditional foods that some people love and some dislike. It should be clear that I love it.

 

Even in the areas of the world where mince pies and tarts are traditional, like the British Isles, some British Commonwealth countries, and the New England of my childhood, people rarely actually made their filling from scratch. Usually they bought a commercial product. My mother preferred First National’s house brand “Finast” (both the venerable store chain and the Finast brand are gone), but Crosse and Blackwell was generally the most readily available mincemeat. The one my mother used came as a concentrate that she had to moisten and cook. She would add some chopped apple to stretch it -- and always stirred in some rum before baking the pies at Christmas.

 

The original “mincemeat” goes back to 13th century England, where Crusaders returning from the Holy Lands brought with them an acquired taste for richly flavored meat dishes cooked with fruit, spices and sweetened with honey. The earliest mincemeats for pie were based on actual chopped (“minced”) meat, particularly lamb, but vennison and beef were also used. Suet (beef fat) was also a component, even into the 20th century, well after the meat itself had largely disappeared from the mixture. In recent decades, the mixture has generally been purely vegetarian, combining apples or pears, raisins, currants (dried tiny grapes, “Raisins de Corinthe,” not true currants), orange peel, sugar, molasses, salt and spices. The traditional principal spices are cinnamon, cloves and nutmeg.

 

As I make mince pie filling, I think the flavor and general texture are like what I enjoyed in my childhood. But my memory may have evolved the way my method has. I leave out the suet that was sometimes used back then, and replace it with oil. My spice mixture includes allspice as well as the original three. Allspice is the only true spice that originated in the New World, and would not have been available to English cooks until sometime after Columbus got to the Americas. One final adaptation is using green tomatoes, as thrifty New Englanders did in their mincemeat to make use of late produce from the garden, harvested unripe before the frost arrived. In past trials I’ve also used local pears when available, as one of the fruits. I still use dried apples, which give a good consistency. When I couldn’t find them in the past I used fresh apples, peeled and chopped, and reduced the water a little.

 

Here’s my recipe as it has evolved. I doubt that I will be modifying it further. It makes about four quarts, and keeps well in the refrigerator for several weeks. It also can easily be stored frozen until needed for holiday baking. If you make it, I hope your pies and tarts turn out well, and use vegan pie crusts!

 

3/4 pound dried apple rings or shreads (about 3-4 cups after chopping)

5 medium-large firm green tomatoes

1 medium-large orange (preferably organic)

1 pound dried currants

1 pound dried green grape raisins or regular raisins

1 pound black raisins

1 1/2 cups molasses

1 cup cider vinegar

1 1/2 cups water

4 tablespoons vegetable oil

1 cup brown sugar

1/2 cup white sugar

2 1/2 teaspoons salt

1 tablespoon ground cinnamon

1 1/2 teaspoons grated nutmeg

3/4 teaspoon ground cloves

3/4 teaspoon ground allspice

 

Using a food processor, chop the dried apples, part at a time, until the pieces are about 1/4-inch in size. Place in a heavy stainless steel or enamel pot. Cut out cores from the green tomatoes, cut the tomatoes in chunks and chop them coarsely in the food processor, part at a time. Add to the apples. Cut the orange, skin and all, into thick slices and remove any seeds. Chop the sliced orange finely in the food processor and add it to the pot.

 

Add the dried currants and raisins, molasses, vinegar, water, butter or oil, sugars, salt and spices. Bring to a boil, then over very low heat, cook slowly, stirring frequently and covering the pot between stirrings. If the mixture gets somewhat dry, add a little water. Cook the mixture for half an hour or more, until apple pieces are tender and moist.

 

Cool and store refrigerated, or frozen, for later baking. The flavors mellow and improve with aging, and are best after at least a few days storage.

 

Some cooks (like my mother did) stir in a little rum, bourbon, or (in the UK) whisky before baking their mince pie or tarts. The alcohol cooks off during baking, leaving behind only delightful flavor overtones.