Showing posts with label soup. Show all posts
Showing posts with label soup. Show all posts

Thursday, November 15, 2012

Chef's Table: A Night for Everyone

Apologies for the photos. Low light. It should still give you a general feel.

Alfonse and Fares: two of whom many will fail to remember but a most pleasant experience did they provide at this month’s Chef’s Table, the third installment of the pop-up event now held every month at Cellardoor Bistro in the narrow streets of Maadi. Tending to our shallow desires and our relatively generous wallets, these men, our waiters for the night, worked tirelessly to be remarkably courteous, bringing the different courses, one after the other on time, after a few leisurely sips of an ordered drink.   

Our table was a reunion of sorts and a meeting of new kindred spirits: old high school friends, work colleagues and newspaper editors. Every dish presented to the table brought about conversations:  childhood memories of mom’s cooking, scouting out Egyptian food on business trips in places as far as Hong Kong and stories of Puerto Rican sofrito, a base seasoning sauce, dominating the bulk of Puerto Rico’s dishes and giving them an aromatic punch.

Pumpkin soup was ladled carefully into their small containers and arrived hot with notes of orange and a sweet musky lift from the nutty brown butter and toasted pumpernickel croutons. All that was needed, a fireplace. Immediately after came a salad, a faraway relative of the classic Waldorf with pleasing autumn colors and complementary elements - beautiful beetroot and a considerate helping of walnuts, bobbles of blanched and peeled cherry tomatoes, consistent slices of almost transparent rounds of radish, batons of tart green apples, piquant rocket leaves and blue cheese; a flashier version of an everyday salad that new attendees would feel at ease with. A cumin focaccia crostini was served alongside this crowd-pleaser and although full of flavor, it retained some moisture and did not deliver on the crunch.    

A trio of tacos came next, propped up against a dainty stand with individually hand drawn designs. Interestingly, most went first for the vegetarian moussaka taco. Layered lentils and cubed aubergine were served at room temperature and were governed by the crumbled feta; a little dry as was the sea bass ceviche taco, they both could have benefitted from a little less restraint and a heavier hand as per the respective regions of those dishes.

As a separate ceviche away from the tortilla, it was delicate and sweet. After completing the first two, the brave tried to comfort those whose fear of consuming an animal’s tongue was troubling them. The beef tongue taco stood ominously, piled high but was seasoned well, tender and layered with flavors of a familiar taco. The hero on the plate making it all meld was the guacamole, chunky but creamy and especially fresh.  

Fourth was the the “White, Pink and Gold” with several components: an Old Bay belly of salmon with a roasted pepper ratatouille that far surpassed the salmon served at the first Chef’s Table; a simple sea bass, soft and barely opaque, perched atop a small mound of fava beans adding much needed texture; and tempura crayfish tails with a brilliant bright green dill oil and a mild red pepper aioli. I would have preferred a lighter batter but would still snack on a plate of these again.  

Next arrived one of my favorites of the night - what Chefs Ayman Samir, Wesam Masoud and Moustafa El Refaey named “Banzai!”, a quick shot composed of both fresh and pickled ginger, balanced with citrus and a swirl of greek yogurt, this clever palate cleanser takes me back to my short years in Kuala Lumpur and the fusions in food that I experienced there.

The main was unexpected - an oxtail faggot with crushed peas that represented classic British fare, slow roasted leg of goat with a berry demi-glace flaunting its French and Moroccan accents, a potato terrine and a caramelized carrot purée dotted with pickled pearl onions - but despite the few glitches on my plate, a bit of unrendered fat and underseasoned potatoes, I admired the insistence of the chefs to introduce their audience to the nose to tail eating concept, starting with the beef tongue enjoyed earlier and ending with these bold flavors to nudge the timid palates at the bistro that night.   

Dessert was a chilled soup of sour cherry and amaretto, vanilla ice cream with a pinch of fleur de sel and chocolate covered dehydrated beef bacon that had people holding it up to the light, perplexed by a concept new to Cairo. Ending on a light note, the chefs wrapped up the night with complex flavors.

Favoring a quick chat with the chefs post-dégustation, I realize that Chef Ayman  Samir has not slept the night before, Chef Wesam Masoud is down with a flu but has managed to pull through and Chef Moustafa El Refaey with the inner excitement of the arrival of his recent newborn is hiding away from the diners’ eyes, working to finish off his night on a high note and go home. This is achievement: three men working with their teams to provide Cairo with a contemporary outlook on food while maintaining a sense of comfort. Ayman Samir cinched the night after all was done, “This was meant to be a night for everyone.”      

Friday, July 1, 2011

Tom Yum Goong - The Egyptian Way

Here's my new column for The Daily News Egypt.


My husband relocated to Malaysia a few months before I did. While I was busy boxing up what little we had made of our first makeshift home and saying my weepy goodbyes to Cairo, he was getting acquainted with Kuala Lumpur, what was to be our new home and what is often highlighted as a honeymoon destination.

By the time I arrived, Husband had developed an affinity to the scandalously hot Thai soup, Tom Yum Goong, or as he liked to call it, “Yum Yum soup.” Being a lifelong soup lover, I became excited at the prospect of finding this magical soup around every corner of Kuala Lumpur.

What I couldn't understand was why he, who generally looked down on soup, had suddenly become enthralled with that particular combination of flavors lying in a pool of steaming orange water. That was until I had it myself, in its true form, the way it is prepared for beggars and kings alike, with its fiery goodness defying the humid heat of Kuala Lumpur.

Combining the elements of Thai cooking this spicy, sour, and salty but sweet soup, pungent with fresh aromatics and savory depth, came alive with the final lashings of limejuice. Considering the abundance of Tom Yum Goong I consumed, I rapidly started understanding the delicate balance of flavors. It became instinctive; you would know the minute an ingredient was lacking. Was it the chili powder? Did they use fresh shrimp stock? Are those canned mushrooms?

One sip, my nose runs. Second sip, my eyes water. Third sip, this is child's play, I think. I'm half Indian and I'll continue to hydrate myself with the spiciest of liquids consumed in Asia. Who knows? Establishments serving the soup might be overtaken by neighboring fast food chains sooner than we think.

It took me three years in Malaysia to gather up the courage to make it. I prepared all of the ingredients carefully and operated as though I was being tested. If I failed, the disappointment would be great. Little did I realize that it was in fact quite a simple dish in need of a little attention and a mouth that constantly tastes to find the answer to the equation.

This week, I found myself trapped by a storm at home with fresh prawn, a craving for Tom Yum Goong, and a lack of fresh Thai herbs. After finding a great recipe, taking the tom yum jump and succeeding at recreating it at home a month ago, I decided to try the method out using flavors that were more particularly Egyptian. If it goes horribly wrong I thought and I can’t get the salty, sweet, sour, spicy combination right then I’ll call it something else, won’t tell anyone and eat it anyway.

It worked! Yes I’m as surprised as you are. It all boils down to the fundamentals of a cuisine and in this instance, Thai. I don’t have magic in my fingers and my skills are not gasp-worthy. Not at all. The sweetness came from the aromatics, the peppers and the prawn, the spiciness from the fresh ground chili, the sourness from the tomato paste and lime juice and the saltiness from the salt and accompanying spices. In essence, you’re just tossing it all into a pot and watching the magic unfold from a simple simmer. Use as much chili as you can handle. Live a little.
Beginners' Egyptian Tom Yum Goong
1 kg of medium-sized prawn, deveined
1 medium green pepper, diced
1 medium red pepper, diced
2 medium onions, finely sliced.
½ a cup of chopped celery
2½ teaspoons of ground cumin
1 teaspoon of ground coriander
salt/pepper to taste
2 heaped tablespoons of tomato paste
2.5 cups of shrimp stock or water
3 bird's eye chili, sliced (Feel free to increase the amount of chili.)
½ teaspoon of chili powder (I used 1 teaspoon)
Juice of 1 large lime
A handful of chopped parsley, to garnish
You can make this on the stove for a quicker meal but I prefer the richness that it develops in the oven if I have the time. Place the peppers, onions, celery, and sliced chili into a deep oven-proof dish. Add the ground cumin, coriander and chili powder then season with salt and pepper. Mix together until the spices coat everything evenly.
In a separate bowl, Add the tomato paste to 2 cups of freshly boiled shrimp stock or water and stir until the paste dissolves. Pour the prepared liquid onto your vegetable mixture and cover. Place in a preheated oven of 200 degrees Celsius for 30 minutes. Lower the heat to 180 degrees Celsius, remove the lid and allow to simmer in the enclosed heat for another 20 minutes.
Remove from the oven, add the lime juice then the prawn. Make sure it is immersed in the soup. Return to the oven and continue to simmer for another 20 minutes. Garnish with chopped parsley. Serve in a bowl with a side of rice or crusty bread.
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