Parker T. Geissel's Blog
September 24, 2016
Sea Scallops Grilled in Butter and Rum
In my time in the kitchens I’ve rubbed elbows with all manner of folk, the varied sort that inhabit that tumultuous underworld of the line cook. They are a calico mixture, even within themselves, sometimes part poet and philosopher, as well as bits of hooligan and delinquent. But it may surprise you that a good number of these gutter chefs know a thing or two about fine cooking, and it is by their example that I have any proficiency in the art.
It seemed strange to find that scallops featured as a staple menu item in more than a few of the slop shops and dive bars I encountered. There is a tendency for restaurants that have even the most tenuous connection to a nearby body of water to offer some seafood on their menu, with the implication that their nautical location ensures prime cuts fresh off the boat. The unfortunate truth is that much of this fare is far from fresh, and most likely shipped frozen from some far-flung corner of the world for minimal cost. It is an odd circumstance of modern times that we can acquire such things far cheaper from across the ocean than in our own backyard.
It happens that some of the less celebrated establishments will on occasion discover a local source of seafood that may not necessarily comply with the requisite local ordinances concerning such transactions, but that’s no reflection on the quality of their product. So it is that you may find some of the best scallops in these places of dubious reputation.
The scallop is an excellent meal. The elegant shellfish has a rich and versatile flavor that does good service both in a fancy linen-draped brass-trimmed dining room as well as off a soot-crusted backyard grill. Its meat is firm but tender, so that when cooked right it cuts like butter.
While the smaller bay scallop is a handy snack, the sea scallop is fit for a full meal. This fine feast cooks up quick, which makes it especially convenient for a man with a dearth of time on his hands, but somehow has easy access to fresh sea scallops. Here’s one of my preferred recipes:
Ingredients:
-8 fresh, plump sea scallops
-bottle of Jamaican Rum
-1/2 stick of butter
Firstly, pour a thimble of rum into a bowl, or even a wide plate will do. Put the scallops in there to soak, no more than 5 minutes. Heat up a pan, medium to high heat. Drop the ½ stick of butter in there, let it melt. Trick here is to get the butter hot but not burnt. Throw in the scallops and let them cook, about two minutes on a side. You should see a nice dark brown crust form around the rim as the butter and the rum caramelize. Add a splash of rum as desired, to the cook and to the pan. Serve with some dark green kale sautéed up with some scallions in the same pan. If you’re feeling dandy, throw on some Dijon corn relish, which you can mix up the day prior with some sweet yellow corn, vinegar, a dollop of Dijon mustard, and light on the sugar, depending on your preference.
http://www.parkergeissel.com/single-p...
It seemed strange to find that scallops featured as a staple menu item in more than a few of the slop shops and dive bars I encountered. There is a tendency for restaurants that have even the most tenuous connection to a nearby body of water to offer some seafood on their menu, with the implication that their nautical location ensures prime cuts fresh off the boat. The unfortunate truth is that much of this fare is far from fresh, and most likely shipped frozen from some far-flung corner of the world for minimal cost. It is an odd circumstance of modern times that we can acquire such things far cheaper from across the ocean than in our own backyard.
It happens that some of the less celebrated establishments will on occasion discover a local source of seafood that may not necessarily comply with the requisite local ordinances concerning such transactions, but that’s no reflection on the quality of their product. So it is that you may find some of the best scallops in these places of dubious reputation.
The scallop is an excellent meal. The elegant shellfish has a rich and versatile flavor that does good service both in a fancy linen-draped brass-trimmed dining room as well as off a soot-crusted backyard grill. Its meat is firm but tender, so that when cooked right it cuts like butter.
While the smaller bay scallop is a handy snack, the sea scallop is fit for a full meal. This fine feast cooks up quick, which makes it especially convenient for a man with a dearth of time on his hands, but somehow has easy access to fresh sea scallops. Here’s one of my preferred recipes:
Ingredients:
-8 fresh, plump sea scallops
-bottle of Jamaican Rum
-1/2 stick of butter
Firstly, pour a thimble of rum into a bowl, or even a wide plate will do. Put the scallops in there to soak, no more than 5 minutes. Heat up a pan, medium to high heat. Drop the ½ stick of butter in there, let it melt. Trick here is to get the butter hot but not burnt. Throw in the scallops and let them cook, about two minutes on a side. You should see a nice dark brown crust form around the rim as the butter and the rum caramelize. Add a splash of rum as desired, to the cook and to the pan. Serve with some dark green kale sautéed up with some scallions in the same pan. If you’re feeling dandy, throw on some Dijon corn relish, which you can mix up the day prior with some sweet yellow corn, vinegar, a dollop of Dijon mustard, and light on the sugar, depending on your preference.
http://www.parkergeissel.com/single-p...
August 29, 2016
Meandering Introspection on Influences
I would venture to say every story we knock together has parts from all the stories that came before, and we hacked out bits and pieces to our liking. For my own part I've got to give a nod to Sergio Leone, who was inspired by Akira Kurosawa, and from him there's a line to Dashiell Hammett.
It can be said that Akira Kurosawa is one of the biggest influences in modern American storytelling, which is a strange case for a guy from a small island on the other side of the world. His movies were direct inspirations for Sergio Leone's Clint Eastwood spaghetti westerns (Yojimbo), as well as one of the most iconic American westerns, 'The Magnificent Seven' (The Seven Samurai), and not least almost a shot for shot template for George Lucas' 'Star Wars' (The Hidden Fortress). But here's the funny thing, Kurosawa found his own influence in American movies. He grew up in American occupied Japan, watching old westerns and crime thrillers the GIs brought over for their entertainment and edification.
He went on to make a film called 'Yojimbo' about a lone samurai with no name who comes into a crooked town and stirs up trouble. It's a movie that owes a lot to Dashiell Hammett's story 'Red Harvest' (and 'The Glass Key', to be sure, but that's not my point), about a lone detective with no name who comes into a crooked town and stirs up trouble. Kurosawa took the wandering gunslinger idea from those old westerns he watched as a kid, mixed it with film noir, and made a samurai movie out of it. Then Sergio Leone (an Itialian!) comes along and remakes 'Yojimbo' as 'A Fistful of Dollars' about a lone cowboy with no name who comes into a crooked town and stirs up trouble, and the story goes full circle in a way, back into the western genre that inspired it. In some respects it makes me think of how the ancient Greeks devoted their literature to retelling the same pantheon of stories in different ways. Or how these comic books keep rebooting until the original story's been reworked so many times it's hard to figure what's canon anymore (I'm looking at you, 'Detective Comics' Comics. What kind of name is that anyway?).
So all this to say there's a long trail of influences that lead here today. I can't turn a page in 'The Fell Hound of Adversity' without seeing some way the glint of a greater author behind the words.
And this without even mentioning the whole Dostoyevsky fan fiction stuff (read The Demons, equal parts comedy and tragedy, to find out where Fedka came from).
http://www.parkergeissel.com/#!Influe...
It can be said that Akira Kurosawa is one of the biggest influences in modern American storytelling, which is a strange case for a guy from a small island on the other side of the world. His movies were direct inspirations for Sergio Leone's Clint Eastwood spaghetti westerns (Yojimbo), as well as one of the most iconic American westerns, 'The Magnificent Seven' (The Seven Samurai), and not least almost a shot for shot template for George Lucas' 'Star Wars' (The Hidden Fortress). But here's the funny thing, Kurosawa found his own influence in American movies. He grew up in American occupied Japan, watching old westerns and crime thrillers the GIs brought over for their entertainment and edification.
He went on to make a film called 'Yojimbo' about a lone samurai with no name who comes into a crooked town and stirs up trouble. It's a movie that owes a lot to Dashiell Hammett's story 'Red Harvest' (and 'The Glass Key', to be sure, but that's not my point), about a lone detective with no name who comes into a crooked town and stirs up trouble. Kurosawa took the wandering gunslinger idea from those old westerns he watched as a kid, mixed it with film noir, and made a samurai movie out of it. Then Sergio Leone (an Itialian!) comes along and remakes 'Yojimbo' as 'A Fistful of Dollars' about a lone cowboy with no name who comes into a crooked town and stirs up trouble, and the story goes full circle in a way, back into the western genre that inspired it. In some respects it makes me think of how the ancient Greeks devoted their literature to retelling the same pantheon of stories in different ways. Or how these comic books keep rebooting until the original story's been reworked so many times it's hard to figure what's canon anymore (I'm looking at you, 'Detective Comics' Comics. What kind of name is that anyway?).
So all this to say there's a long trail of influences that lead here today. I can't turn a page in 'The Fell Hound of Adversity' without seeing some way the glint of a greater author behind the words.
And this without even mentioning the whole Dostoyevsky fan fiction stuff (read The Demons, equal parts comedy and tragedy, to find out where Fedka came from).
http://www.parkergeissel.com/#!Influe...
August 13, 2016
Honey-basted Truffle-stuffed Game Hen
Some folks have the idea that a game bird is just like chicken. This is a dangerous misconception. Get that straight quick. The chicken is a preening pampered prissy little lay-about, primping and prancing around the farmyard, or maybe just stuffing its face in some closed in wire cage. Wild fowl are another story. The game bird is an ornery, scrawny, bad-tempered cuss of a critter whose life is dedicated to thwarting your intent. Their natural taste can be described most affectionately as ‘gamey’, which seems obvious when you say it out loud.
All that meanness makes for rough eats without a mess of effort to make it otherwise. Whether it’s quail or pheasant or grouse, these birds are lean, fighting trim, and that’s a hardship for any cook. But don’t let that stop you. Any cook can make a fine meal of these birds with a little gumption and gusto.
Fat is flavor, the truest words in all of culinary history. So the first thing to figure is how to soak the spindly little creature with some flavor. There’s a few ways to go about this, butter, lard, even olive oil can offer a rich glowing texture and sumptuous complexity to the taste. Here’s my favorite strategy.
Ingredients:
½ stick butter
6 oz. honey (clover is preferred)
2 Cornish game hens
3 oz. black truffles (preferably fresh, but do what you can)
2 cloves garlic
1 tbsp. rosemary
2 tsp. salt
3 tsp. pepper
1 tsp. coriander
2 yellow onions
1 cup sourdough croutons
2 stalks celery
1 carrot
Firstly, butter up the game hens. Just grab that stick of butter and rub it all over, paying special attention to the breast and drumsticks on top, since that’s where the heat will be focused.
Second, make up the stuffing. Stay wary on account of the truffles, for those things have a powerful taste if let loose. Chop finely the celery, garlic, and onions. Mix into a bowl with the croutons, salt, pepper and coriander. For the carrot, you’re going to want to grate that into spindly little slivers to mix in, just for a bit of variety. The truffles should be sliced and chopped. Add some olive oil or melted butter to give the whole thing some fluid. When it’s mixed into a nice measured consistency, stuff the birds.
Finally, decorate the birds with the rosemary, puncturing the skin with a toothpick to insert the leaves so that they end up looking like a pair of misshapen porcupines. Hold off on the honey for now, you want to let these things cook a bit before the basting.
Throw them into an oven, preferably pre-heated to 350 degrees, although if you forgot that part, throw them in anyway. It will just take a bit longer. They should cook for about an hour, hour and a half depending on the size. Cover with tin foil for the first 45-60 minutes.
Every 30 minutes, you are going to want to take them out and baste them with a nice thin layer of honey. Choose something light, like clover honey, nothing too cloying. You can use one of those fancy baking brushes, or just drizzle it on with a fork. For best results rub some butter on first, followed by the honey on top of it. It should cook up nice and dark, a rich ochre.
Use a baking thermometer if you’ve got it to determine when the thing is done, or just cut near the leg joint, where the leg meets the breast, and when the juice runs clear you know it’s done. I prefer it a bit dry, so let it lay an extra 15 minutes or so if you’re the same. Then spoon out the stuffing, slice off some muscle, and enjoy.
Blog Post recipe for game hen
All that meanness makes for rough eats without a mess of effort to make it otherwise. Whether it’s quail or pheasant or grouse, these birds are lean, fighting trim, and that’s a hardship for any cook. But don’t let that stop you. Any cook can make a fine meal of these birds with a little gumption and gusto.
Fat is flavor, the truest words in all of culinary history. So the first thing to figure is how to soak the spindly little creature with some flavor. There’s a few ways to go about this, butter, lard, even olive oil can offer a rich glowing texture and sumptuous complexity to the taste. Here’s my favorite strategy.
Ingredients:
½ stick butter
6 oz. honey (clover is preferred)
2 Cornish game hens
3 oz. black truffles (preferably fresh, but do what you can)
2 cloves garlic
1 tbsp. rosemary
2 tsp. salt
3 tsp. pepper
1 tsp. coriander
2 yellow onions
1 cup sourdough croutons
2 stalks celery
1 carrot
Firstly, butter up the game hens. Just grab that stick of butter and rub it all over, paying special attention to the breast and drumsticks on top, since that’s where the heat will be focused.
Second, make up the stuffing. Stay wary on account of the truffles, for those things have a powerful taste if let loose. Chop finely the celery, garlic, and onions. Mix into a bowl with the croutons, salt, pepper and coriander. For the carrot, you’re going to want to grate that into spindly little slivers to mix in, just for a bit of variety. The truffles should be sliced and chopped. Add some olive oil or melted butter to give the whole thing some fluid. When it’s mixed into a nice measured consistency, stuff the birds.
Finally, decorate the birds with the rosemary, puncturing the skin with a toothpick to insert the leaves so that they end up looking like a pair of misshapen porcupines. Hold off on the honey for now, you want to let these things cook a bit before the basting.
Throw them into an oven, preferably pre-heated to 350 degrees, although if you forgot that part, throw them in anyway. It will just take a bit longer. They should cook for about an hour, hour and a half depending on the size. Cover with tin foil for the first 45-60 minutes.
Every 30 minutes, you are going to want to take them out and baste them with a nice thin layer of honey. Choose something light, like clover honey, nothing too cloying. You can use one of those fancy baking brushes, or just drizzle it on with a fork. For best results rub some butter on first, followed by the honey on top of it. It should cook up nice and dark, a rich ochre.
Use a baking thermometer if you’ve got it to determine when the thing is done, or just cut near the leg joint, where the leg meets the breast, and when the juice runs clear you know it’s done. I prefer it a bit dry, so let it lay an extra 15 minutes or so if you’re the same. Then spoon out the stuffing, slice off some muscle, and enjoy.
Blog Post recipe for game hen
August 10, 2016
Alliteration
Alliteration feels like a discarded art nowadays, a once common craft gone rusty from spare use, its bold bellicose bombast a meager memory. It may be said the practice was always a crude ploy, cheap tricks piled on to distract from lackluster craft, but it's a fine thing to see when used proper. There's a celebration in it of language, flaunting the simple tools we use in common talk, making it a mite more savory to the taste.
August 9, 2016
The Fat Jack Sandwich
The Fat Jack is a dependable and surprisingly luxurious sandwich that crosses all social boundaries, enjoyed by bus-boys, bankers and beauty queens alike. It traces its origins to the company lunch wagons at fish canneries along the east coast. The necessity to feed large groups of men cheaply introduced novel ways to present leftover fish scraps as a meal. Starting out as little more than a glorified tuna salad sandwich, the Fat Jack established itself through years of innovation.
The name developed from the common use of Monterey Jack cheese as the main condiment. The most important evolution of the sandwich came when the mayonnaise in the tuna salad was replaced with a thick, spicy brown mustard. This utilitarian upgrade came about in effort to address inadequate refrigeration, for the spicy mustard didn’t develop the foul smell associated with mayonnaise left too long in the sun.
Soon it became custom to server the sandwich hot, frying up the whole thing in a skillet so the cheese melted through the thin cut thick crust bread, dripping over the sides to sizzle into brittle brown teardrops. The classic recipe has become well established, although an adventurous sandwich maker can try various adjustments to twist and tweak the result.
Ingredients:
-4-6 (depending on size of loaf) slices hefty thick crust baker’s white bread, thinly sliced
-3 oz. canned tuna
-1 tbsp spicy brown mustard
-1 tbsp chopped pickled pepperoncini
-handful of fresh spinach leaves
-monterey jack cheese
-stick of butter
-pickled plum tomato
Mix tuna, mustard and pepperoncini in a bowl to even consistency. Spread result onto slices of bread about a half inch thick. Stack spinach, then cheese on top. Finish with a slice of bread. Turn over and butter the top of each sandwich (the tuna side). Lay onto skillet, tuna side down. Cut sandwiches in half at this point to maximize heat dispersal. Cook at medium low heat, and be careful that bread does not burn. While tuna side is cooking, spread butter on the top slices of bread. Once cheese shows first signs of melting, flip them over. Cook until the cheese has started to spill down the side and bread is a nice toasted golden brown. Spear a pickled plum tomato on top for the traditional garnish. Enjoy.
Tips: The real work here is to melt the cheese and toast the bread without burning it. The canned tuna is already cooked, so the reason to start with the tuna side down is to apply the heat evenly and get the tuna to a good warm temperature, as the cheese will melt very quickly otherwise. For variation, try using different cheeses (white cheddar, pepper jack, swiss). Or swap out the bread with bagels and melt the sandwiches open face in the oven.
Fat Jack Recipe Blog Post
The name developed from the common use of Monterey Jack cheese as the main condiment. The most important evolution of the sandwich came when the mayonnaise in the tuna salad was replaced with a thick, spicy brown mustard. This utilitarian upgrade came about in effort to address inadequate refrigeration, for the spicy mustard didn’t develop the foul smell associated with mayonnaise left too long in the sun.
Soon it became custom to server the sandwich hot, frying up the whole thing in a skillet so the cheese melted through the thin cut thick crust bread, dripping over the sides to sizzle into brittle brown teardrops. The classic recipe has become well established, although an adventurous sandwich maker can try various adjustments to twist and tweak the result.
Ingredients:
-4-6 (depending on size of loaf) slices hefty thick crust baker’s white bread, thinly sliced
-3 oz. canned tuna
-1 tbsp spicy brown mustard
-1 tbsp chopped pickled pepperoncini
-handful of fresh spinach leaves
-monterey jack cheese
-stick of butter
-pickled plum tomato
Mix tuna, mustard and pepperoncini in a bowl to even consistency. Spread result onto slices of bread about a half inch thick. Stack spinach, then cheese on top. Finish with a slice of bread. Turn over and butter the top of each sandwich (the tuna side). Lay onto skillet, tuna side down. Cut sandwiches in half at this point to maximize heat dispersal. Cook at medium low heat, and be careful that bread does not burn. While tuna side is cooking, spread butter on the top slices of bread. Once cheese shows first signs of melting, flip them over. Cook until the cheese has started to spill down the side and bread is a nice toasted golden brown. Spear a pickled plum tomato on top for the traditional garnish. Enjoy.
Tips: The real work here is to melt the cheese and toast the bread without burning it. The canned tuna is already cooked, so the reason to start with the tuna side down is to apply the heat evenly and get the tuna to a good warm temperature, as the cheese will melt very quickly otherwise. For variation, try using different cheeses (white cheddar, pepper jack, swiss). Or swap out the bread with bagels and melt the sandwiches open face in the oven.
Fat Jack Recipe Blog Post
