Food for Love: Valentine's Day Eating

Valentine's Day is on the way. This year it falls on a Sunday, so no excuse for no time to bring some love to the table. When you do, you'll be part of something huge. People have been feeding each other aphrodisiacs since nobody knows when; it goes back too far. 

When people in love say, “there just was this chemistry”, they mean mysterious emotional attraction to a person, but they could as easily mean the food in their kitchen. In just about every culture, alchemists and chemists have experimented with food to devise seductive potions and hormone formulas that provoke carnal desire, stimulate attraction, promote fertility, and perhaps most importantly cure impotence. Thanks either to those chemical science efforts or poetic association with passion, particular foods are now considered aphrodisiacs. Others got on the list because personal memories of eating that food evoked feelings warm enough to put someone in the mood. 

The most traditional and cross cultural dinner table aphrodisiacs are chocolate, wine, asparagus, artichokes, oysters, the mushroom known as truffle, vanilla and chili pepper.  

Apples are also on that list. Remember what tempted Adam and Eve? Snow White? It turns out apples--although arguably the ancients meant pomegranates (seed sacs like testicles), are historic symbols of temptation. In Greece, they actually were the symbol of love. In a popular myth, the goddess Atalanta, renown for athletic prowess, vowed to marry whoever beat her in a foot race, and when the god Hippomenes beseeched the Goddess of Love for help in winning, sympathetic Aphrodite gave him three golden apples.

She told him to throw them on the track as Atalanta approached. Indeed the sight of these shimmering orbs so distracted Atalanta, she lost the race, meaning love won. In the Mediterranean mind, apples became so tightly associated with love that upon seeing their first tomato (likely yellow heirloom) from the New World, Italians immediately called it, pomodoro, golden apple. 

Some people consider saffron an aphrodisiac because of its red color, rarity and expense, and haunting, seductive flavor. So if you have time to fuss and want something sensational to go with, say, rack of lamb or roast beef, try this:

Red Kuri Squash Stuffed with a Saffron, Apricot and Cherry Pilaf
1 lg (2 1/2 lb) red kuri squash--or sugar pumpkin
1 cup (heaping) long grain Basmati or Jasmine rice (rinsed)
3 tbsp olive oil
1 tbsp unsalted butter
a big pinch of saffron threads
1 1/2 tsp ground coriander
Peel of 1/3 orange (no pith please), sliced into very thin strips
1/4 cup pistachio nutmeats
1/4 cup roasted pumpkin seeds (pepitas)
1/4 cup dried cherries soaked in boiling water 5 minutes and drained
8-10 dried apricots, chopped into bite-size pieces
1 tsp rosewater
1/2 tsp salt
Freshly ground pepper to your taste
1 bunch flat leaf parsley, coarsely chopped
1 bunch mint coarsely chopped or 1/2 cup dried mint leaves
1 bunch dill, coarsely chopped
1 lemon cut in wedges for garnish
1 cup thick fresh yogurt for serving
Preheat over to 400º. Soak the saffron threads in 1 tsp hot water.

Wash the squash and microwave it just long enough to soften it so you can put a knife in.
Cut off the stalk end to use as a lid. Scoop out all seeds and strings. Put the lid back on the squash, put the squash on a baking sheet and put it in the oven for 1 hour.
     Now, put the rice in a pot with just enough water to cover it. Add a pinch of salt and bring to a boil. Lower heat to simmer, partially cover the pot and cook 10-12 minutes until all the water is absorbed. (The rice will not be totally cooked, no worries.)
     Meanwhile in a wide lidded skillet or casserole, heat oil and butter until butter melts. Stir in coriander, orange peel, pistachios, pumpkin seeds, drained cherries and apricots. Sauté one minute. Add the rice, saffron (with water) and rose water. Season with salt and pepper.
    Turn off the heat. Cover the pot with a clean, dry dish towel and press the pan lid down over it to a tight fit. Let the pilaf steam for 10 minutes. Toss in the parsley, dill and mint.
     When squash is ready, lift off the lid and fill it with the pilaf, gently stuffing it in. Put the lid back on and put the stuffed squash back in the oven for 20 minutes.
     Remove the lid to serve. Slice the lemon into wedges. There are two ways to present this: one is to simply put the wedges all around the squash on a serving plate, put 1/4 of the yogurt on top of the pilaf and pass the rest in a separate bowl, and let everybody dig in. Or you can slice a 1/2" thick round off the top of the squash, lay this ring on a plate, fill it with the pilaf, top this with yogurt and place a lemon wedge to one side.

 

Why is asparagus on that list? According to the wildly popular lookalike theory of earlier times, the asparagus spear that triumphantly shoves its way up through thawing Earth should be a boost for the male libido. Bridegrooms in 19^th C France were served a pile of spears on their wedding night. But it turns out there’s more to asparagus than its suggestive phallic shape. Dense with potassium, folic acid and vitamin B6 among other critical nutrients and fiber, asparagus increases production of histamine, a chemical that causes capillary dilation and muscle contraction. The human body requires both of these to happen so it can achieve orgasm.

Here's a Spanish treat for a lazy Sunday brunch or breakfast:

Asparagus Revuelto (not quite an omelet)

3 tbsp olive oil

2 peeled garlic cloves, plus 1/2 teaspoon minced garlic

2 cups bread cubes, made with day-old bread, cut in 1/2-inch cubes

Salt and pepper
2 ounces Spanish chorizo, diced (use pepperoni if you can't find it)
1 bunch thin asparagus, about 1 1/2 pounds, cut in 1- 2" lengths
1 bunch scallions, chopped
8 large eggs, beaten
1/2 tsp pimentón
2 tbsp chopped flat leaf parsley

Put 3 tbsp olive oil in a cast-iron skillet over medium-high heat. Add peeled garlic cloves and let them sizzle until lightly browned, then remove. Add bread cubes, season with salt and pepper, lower heat to medium and gently fry until lightly browned and crisp, about 2 minutes. Remove bread and set aside to cool.
     Add chorizo and fry lightly. Add asparagus, season with salt and pepper, and stir-fry until cooked through but firm, 3 to 4 minutes. Add green onions and minced garlic and cook 1 minute more. Season eggs with salt, pepper and pimentón. Pour into pan and cook, stirring with a wooden spoon until soft and creamy, 2-3 minutes. Add parsley, top with fried bread cubes and serve immediately.

You can serve that with heart shaped scones bearing red flecks of dried cherries:

Scones with dried cherriesfor best effect, you need a heart shaped cookie cutter
makes about 14
1/2 cup ( 4 oz) dried cherries, chopped or at least halved
4 oz (1 stick) unsalted butter, cut into 6-8 pieces
2 1/2 cups all purpose unbleached flour
2 tsp granulated sugar
1 tsp (heaping) baking powder
1/4 tsp baking soda
1/2 c + 1 tbsp heavy or whipping cream

Marinate the cherries in 1/4 cup of either rosewater, cherry brandy or plain water. Preheat oven to 375º. Butter a cookie sheet or line it either with silicone liner or parchment paper.
   In a food processor or mixer bowl, combine the butter, flour, sugar, baking powder and baking soda. Process quickly, just until mixture looks like coarse meal. With the motor running, pour in the cream and process only until dough starts to form.  Drain the cherries and stir in. 
   Line your counter with wax paper. Form the dough into a ball and roll it out 1/2" thick. Cut 2-2 1/2" scones. Place on the cookie sheet. You don't have to leave too much room between them. Brush the tops with that 1 tbsp cream. 
  Bake 12 minutes until solid to the touch. Do not brown. Serve warm.   
 

You can offer whole apples with cheeses and nuts. You can serve an apple tart. Or you can add to your brunch or afternoon a beloved almost forgotten classic: (Alert: this requires deep fry.)

Apple Fritters

2 cups all-purpose flour 

1/4 cup white sugar 

1 tbsp baking powder 

1/2 tsp ground nutmeg 

1 tsp salt 

2 eggs 

1 cup milk 

2 quarts peanut oil for deep frying (it has the highest smoke point)

4 large apples, peeled and cored 

1/2 cup confectioners' sugar for dusting

In a medium bowl, mix together flour, sugar, baking powder, nutmeg and salt. In a separate bowl, beat together eggs and milk. Stir milk mixture into flour mixture until smooth.In a deep fryer or heavy bottomed deep pot or skillet, heat oil to 375º.

Slice apples into ½” rings. Dip apple slices in batter and fry, a few at a time, turning once, until golden. Drain on paper towels and dust with confectioners' sugar.

To serve wine not in a goblet but paired with vanilla for two in one, make this dessert:

Red Wine Poached Pearsfor 6 but you can half it 

3 c water
1 lg lemon, juice only
6 lg pears, still firm but ripe (Bosc does not work well here)
2 c dry red wine
1 c sugar
1 vanilla bean or 2 tsp vanilla extract
pinch of ground cloves
   Combine the water and half the lemon juice in a large bowl. Peel the pears but leave stems on. If they can't stand up, slice a little off the bottom until they do. Put them in the lemon water so they don't brown.
    In a large wide saucepan, mix wine, sugar and remaining lemon juice. Slit the vanilla bean, scrape its seeds into the wine, then toss in the pod too. Or add the vanilla extract. Bring to a boil and boil over medium heat about 5-7 minutes until you have syrup. Drain the pears and put them in the syrup, standing in a single layer, bottom down. Adjust heat to simmer, cover the pot and cook until pears are tender to the core. Baste from time to time. 
    When pears are tender, place them upright in a large serving bowl. Raise the heat under the wine syrup and boil for 3 minutes to reduce and thicken slightly. Pour it over the pears, vanilla bean and all. Set aside to cool but baste every so often. Cover the bowl with plastic wrap and refrigerate to serve chilled.
     

And give the day's grand finale all the chocolate you've got. Here are two exquisite recipes: one for a shiny heart and one that's gluten free for food fetishists.
Chocolate Heart (from Flo Braker)
(Alert: you need a heart shaped cake pan for this)

 3/4 cup (2 ounces) ground pecans
1/3 cup unsifted all-purpose flour
6 tbsp unsalted butter
6 ounces semisweet chocolate
2 tbsp water
1/3 cup each granulated and light brown sugar
3 large eggs, separated
1 tbsp rum, optional
1 tsp granulated sugar
Optional: 1 pint fresh raspberries, cinnamon hearts, nasturtium leaves

Adjust rack in lower third of oven and preheat to 350º. Grease and flour an 8-inch heart-shaped pan and line with waxed paper or parchment.
In a small bowl, mix nuts and flour. Melt butter and chocolate in small saucepan over low heat. Blend in water until smooth. Transfer warm chocolate mixture to a large bowl, stir in the sugars. Cool five minutes, blend in yolks, then rum, then stir in nut-flour mixture. Whip whites with one teaspoon sugar to soft, white peaks; stir-fold into chocolate mixture. Spoon batter into pan and smooth evenly. Bake 25 minutes, or until soft but not liquid in center. (Chocolate firms as it cools.) Remove from oven, cool 15 minutes, invert on rack. Peel off paper.

For the Glaze 6 tablespoons unsalted butter
4 ounces semisweet chocolate
2 ounces unsweetened chocolate, chopped

Place everything in a bowl that fits snugly over saucepan. Fill pan half full with 130º water, set bowl on top. Stir occasionally until mixture is smooth, shiny and liquid. Place cool cake on a piece of cardboard that is on a rack placed over jellyroll pan to catch spills. Pour the glaze over the cake and spread evenly with a long metal spatula.
You can go for Baroque and decorate with fresh raspberries or cinnamon hearts or edible red nasturtium leaves.

  Mocha Fudge Cake (flour free)

serves 14 but you have to make it a day ahead

1 c strong coffee (you can use instant)
1 lb semisweet chocolate, chopped
2 c sugar
2 c unsalted butter
8 eggs, lightly beaten
      Preheat oven to 250º. Butter a round 9x3" removable bottom cake pan. Line with a single piece of foil, pushing the foil to the bottom, then up the sides and over the top without tearing (no leaks wanted). If your foil is too narrow, greatly overlap two pieces. Butter the foil so nothing sticks to it.
    In a large saucepan, combine the coffee, chocolate, sugar and butter. Cook over medium heat, stirring constantly, until it feels like hot bath water. Remove from heat and whisk in the eggs, gradually. Pour the batter into the prepared pan and bake 1 1/2 hours. (If the center seems loose, don't worry, it will keep firming up as it cools.) Cool completely, cover and chill overnight.
    Before serving, try to level the top of the cake, then invert it onto a serving platter and remove all foil.

Make frosting
1 1/2 c heavy cream
1/4 c powdered sugar (confectioner's sugar)
1/2 tsp vanilla extract
Whip all ingredients together in a large bowl until very stiff. Frost the top and sides of the cake with this mixture. You can decorate the top with shaved chocolate, fresh raspberries, a pinch of nutmeg or just leave it alone. This is divinely rich.

 

Joy Preserved

I've just shipped off the annual Season's Eating packages that my friends so anxiously await. Although they have more than everything, a little jam and some blueberry chutney, a jar of pickled asparagus, dried herbs, a small tin of chili roasted pumpkin seeds, a jar of honest to Maine maple syrup and some cookies seem to unleash joy to their world. So this is, at least for me, the greatest annual moment of glory for our farmers' markets.

Those packages are the soul satisfying triumph of shopping well done. And my friends get it that I am sharing the love: the love farmers have for their work and the love I have for their food. You just can't overdo caring in today's world. So give homemade food gifts if you can. At this dark time of year, the deep fruit flavor of honest jam, the pungent zing of blueberry chutney, the heat of chili or cinnamon spice brighten a body and soul. And look it this way too: you can frustrate yourself squeezing into crowded parking areas and mobbed malls trying to buy something probably made in China that you imagine somebody here really needs or you can stay home and have some family fun in the kitchen making something you know will be eaten with appreciation--for your thoughtful effort if nothing else.


I like to throw in a small non edible gift from time to time, usually something found at the markets' handicraft stalls--a clever potholder, a handwoven basket, a unique dried flower arrangement. One year it was sheepskin hats. This year, I've been diverted because I couldn't help myself. My gotta have gift is the shoulder strap tote bag for sale at the Museum Shop of the Maine Historical Society on Congress Street in Portland. This perfect shopping bag is emblazoned with the U.S. Food Administration's 1917 (read that: during World War I) words to the wise:
FOOD
1-buy it with thought
2-cook it with care
3-use less wheat & meat
4-buy local foods
5-serve just enough
6-use what's left
DON'T WASTE IT

A big thank you to whoever preserved those guidelines! Don't they make the timeliest gift now, nearly 100 years after they were issued?

My cookies, by the way, are ginger filled, because cinnamon, cloves and ginger are the spices known to raise the temperature of the body--a favor in these chilly times. That's why they show up in mulled cider and so many holiday baked goods. If perchance you found cornmeal at a farmers' market and still have some, consider making a cornmeal pound cake or cornmeal, lemon butter cookies. These are delicious without being cloying sweet. Italian baking books can guide you.

If friends are coming over, gift them with a festive, elegant but easy to prepare feast of warm smoked chicken (now at markets) with wild rice. Add pecans and cranberries (dried or fresh) to the rice, and add butternut squash mashed with cardamom and a bit of coconut cream to the plate. Or try making a smoked chicken salad (celery, scallions, currants, cranberries, tarragon) and serving it in a warm, colorful bowl: a hollowed acorn squash that was basted with maple syrup before it was baked. If you're thinking turkey again, remember the heritage ones, the real deal turkeys available at winter markets. Narragansett is the original, and the most popular now. You might also find Bourbon Red, Spanish black or Standard Bronze.

Ben Franklin lobbied for the wild turkey to be America's national bird, finding it more appropriate than the bald eagle. The eagle, Franklin wrote to his daughter, "is a bird of bad moral character. He does not get his living honestly.... He watches the labor of the fishing hawk (ospreys to us); and when that diligent bird has at length taken a fish, and is bearing it to his nest for the support of his mate and young one, the bald eagle pursues him, and takes it from him." But the turkey, Franklin went on, shared its food, and "though a little vain and silly, is a bird of courage, and would not hesitate to attack a grenadier of the British guards who should presume to invade his farmyard with a red coat on."

And if you haven't had enough apple crisp or pie or even crisp apples, hurry to the winter markets. There's where you'll find the tastiest apples available, and for good reason. A recent article in The New Yorker (November 21, 2012) confirms that when big ag supersizes the harvest to maximize profits, it focuses exclusively on apples that don't bruise when mechanically harvested, sorted and shipped; picks apples long before they ripen to keep a continual supply flowing to supermarkets and despite the damage to taste components, breed for mutations of shiny red because that's how they think we all think of apples. Green or yellow won't tempt us. And quality is not allowed to interfere with quantity in the supply chain. That's why the University of Minnesota wanted to protect its newly patented consumer hit, the SweeTango apple. "When you sell the apples at your farm stand," the head of its fruit breeding program explained: " people know who grew them. But when you sell them to a grocery store, you the grower are anonymous, as far as the consumer is concerned, and that's where quality issues creep in."

Who wants to get quality issues for Christmas?

Apple Blessing Time

And now a word about apples, the last great crop of the harvest season. This is the time to really exult in them, for apples that hung on through a nip of frost are crisper, tastier, last longer and make the best cider. In short, these are the keepers.

Now is also the time to get your hands on as many as you can at farmers' markets because they are where you will find great varieties that never appear on supermarket shelving. Industrial agriculture and its partner, big box supermarkets, only offer the same half dozen apples--Red Delicious, Yellow Delicious, Granny Smith, Fuji, Braeburn, and sometimes even Macintosh--and crossbred varieties of them. They're only raison d'etre in this spotlight is not taste or texture, but simply that they can withstand mechanical harvesting, conveyor belt handling, long distance rumbling and photography, which is to say that after all that, they make a flawless appearance. Frankly, there is nothing else to recommend that mushy, four-bump travesty, the so-called "delicious" apple.

At farmers' markets, you find dozens of tasty alternatives, although some might not be "lookers." For starters, if you are lucky because they are becoming a rarer and rarer treasure, you''ll come upon the Mercedes of eating apples: the tangy, crunchy, sweet tart Winesap. Frankly, if the Wicked Witch had held one out to me, I'd have taken a bite faster than Snow White. Northern Spies are the original New England pie apple, and if you don't want to make that pie until after Thanksgiving, they'll still be good. Mutsu apples are a tastier, crunchier spin-off of Yellow Delicious that will keep a lot longer for the lunchbox. Macouns are Macs on steroids, Baldwins are a very old fashioned, long lived, sweet eating apple, and Cortlands are famous because they're the one apple that doesn't immediately turn brown when its flesh is exposed to air.

Apples are right up there with strawberries and bananas as America'a favorite fruit, but they got to the top with much more publicity. We brag about its nutritional boost by insisting: "An apple a day keeps the Doctor away." We reveal its allure when we offer an apple for the teacher, or call someone an "apple polisher." In The Bible, human civilization starts with the bite of an apple and in fairy tales, Snow White's sexual awakening does too.
Fruit has always been the perfect metaphor for our human desires because it comes to us literally ripe for the taking-- we don't have to do anything but enjoy it, and the apple has become our culture's prime symbol.

This may partly have come to pass because the apple was one of the few fruits that could be grown in England. (It is native to the Caucasus, not Great Britain.) Thus the Victorian botanists and plant hunters who fanned out over the planet in the 19th Century were all too myopically apt to name strange fruits after their beloved and familiar apple: the southeast Asian rose apple and custard apple, the Bengali fruit they called "wood apple", the tropical Pacific island fruit they called "pineapple." It's doubtful that what Eve supposedly tempted Adam with was what we call an apple, because these are not hot weather, Mediterranean fruits; betting is on a pomegranate or perhaps a quince.

We all know about being as American as apple pie--which was actually brought here by British colonists, and about Johnny Appleseed planting all those trees. But as others have revealed, he wasn't thinking of pie. Earlier Americans who wanted some sweetness in their hardscrabble lives wanted apples with their high sugar content not to eat but to ferment into vinegar and drinking alcohol: hard cider and apple brandy. The large glossy picture perfect eating apple is the product of modern manufacture.

Still, a good apple pie is a great dessert. It can be made with cranberries or raisins thrown in, even chopped walnuts too. It can be made open faced like a charlotte or open upside down like a tarte tatin. It can be made now and frozen for February.

Another great dessert, or even breakfast, is the baked apple: if you can find the large, round Rome or Empire or Cortland, grab a few, core and stuff them with a mix of raisins, cranberries, chopped nuts, cinnamon, freshly grated ginger, lemon zest and maple syrup. Put them in a baking pan and pour about 1/2 cup apple cider and 1 tbsp lemon juice over them, cover tightly with aluminum foil and bake at 350 about an hour or until the apples are fork tender. Serve plain warm or later with ice cream, whipped cream or thick yogurt. This is as nutritious as it is delicious, a great way to wean kids from cakes.

Try chopping two tart apples like Macoun or Northern Spy into the batter of Indian pudding just before you bake it. This can gussy the traditional dish up for Thanksgiving dinner. Or be really old-fashioned and cook a dozen apples in some apple cider and lemon juice with a cinnamon stick thrown in, until they're soft and mushy. Then push them through a food mill or strainer into apple sauce, which you can either eat right away or freeze to enjoy in March. When I was a kid I was always dazzled that my great aunt's great apple sauce had the charming blush of pink. Years later I found out her secret was simply to leave the skins on during cooking and when she put the apples into her Foley food mill.

If you are not vegetarian, you can chop up a tart apple or two, combine it with cranberries and prunes and roast a pork loin in the mix. It will be juicy. But, of course, all of this cooking depends on not eating up all the apples just as they are in their glorious natural state.