Tag Archives: fish

Creamed Corn Skillet with Flounder, Beets, Bacon, and Cilantro Oil

DSCN4255I get my inspiration for dinner in all sorts of random ways.  Sometimes just a whiff of something wafting through the air will remind me of a ghost of flavors past.  Sometimes a color engenders a need for the flesh of something similarly hued.  But usually, I trawl food porn websites like Tastespotting or FoodGawker (neither of which has ever accepted any of my photos for their site — a challenge I will continue to try to overcome!) for images that get my juices running.  I also skim the menus for restaurants I can’t afford and try to make what I read there, so that I can enjoy their chef’s imagination without having to pay those prices (sorry peeps, we’re on a *very* tight budget these days).  For this meal, I have The Phantom Gourmet to thank – sort of.  I often have their TV show on local Boston-area restaurants playing in the background while I’m futzing around on Sunday mornings.  Sometimes they have my complete attention, but more often than not I just hear what they’re talking about — and that’s what happened here.  I vaguely overheard something about creamed corn, and something about a skillet — and that’s all I needed.  Creamed corn is one of my favorite side dishes, hailing from my mother-in-law’s down-home redneck kitchen; she’d pick the corn herself from their garden and spent hours and hours creaming it and freezing it in gallon bags to eat throughout the year.  I never went to visit without picking up a few frosty sacks of that golden goodness, but now that we live 2000 miles away I have to make it myself.  And although I LOVE her simple Southern recipe, I have made some adjustments to mine to amp up the deliciousness to Lolita standards.  In this case, a piping hot cast iron skillet blisters a healthy serving of cheesy creamy corn, topped with some flaky pan-seared flounder, chunks of bacon, gemstones of purple beets, and an artful drizzle of bright, herbaceous cilantro oil.  A filling but also light warm winter’s night meal, wholesome and delicious.  I think Rose, my mother in law, were she here in Boston instead of down in rural Georgia, would agree.

Creamed Corn Skillet with Flounder, Beets, Bacon, and Cilantro Oil

1 bag frozen yellow corn
4 slices bacon
2 beets
1 bunch cilantro
3/4 lb flounder filets
1 cup grated parmigiano reggiano cheese
1 cup heavy cream
milk
EVOO
4 tbs butter, divided
2″ sprig fresh rosemary
sea salt, cracked black pepper
flour for dusting
juice of 1 lemon

DSCN4238My beets will take the longest, so I get them started by scrubbing them clean.  I’m really only planning to use a few little cubes — I have a vision, y’see? — but cooked beets hold well so I’ll use the leftovers tomorrow in a salad.  (I know I said I hate leftovers, but beets are an exception, since they taste as good cold as warm.)

DSCN4243They get doused in EVOO, salt, and pepper, and paired with my sprig of rosemary, then wrapped tightly in foil paper.  I throw them in the oven on 350 for an hour or so – until they are tender enough to be easily pierced with a fork.  (In all honesty, I was baking cookies in the oven at the same time, and I sort of just let these go until I’d made all 6 batches.  You can’t really overcook a beet.   But I was worried that my cookies would taste like rosemary, since the oven was so redolent with the scent … they didn’t.)  It takes beets a while to cool, so I let them do so on the counter for about 20 minutes, so I could peel them and dice them before setting them aside.

DSCN4240Next, I remove the leaves from a bunch of cilantro and throw them into my blender thingy.  I add about 1/4 cup of extra virgin olive oil (EVOO), a squeeze of lemon juice, some salt and pepper, and a blend the hell out of it until I have a thick green viscous liquid.

DSCN4241Using my mesh spoon, I strain the green oil from its solids…

DSCN4242… using a spoon to press as much flavor and color out as possible.  I pour the oil into a squeeze bottle.  The rest of the green delish mush can be frozen and used to flavor something needing a pop of cilantro paste later.

DSCN4245Time for the creamed corn.

DSCN4246It all starts with bacon.  I chop my slices up roughly, and fry the bits out with lots of black pepper.

DSCN4247I remove the bacon to a paper plate to drain, then wipe most of grease out – leaving about a teaspoon of fat and as much of the toasted black pepper as possible in the pan as well.

DSCN4250I then set the heat to medium low, add the corn, cream, and grated cheese to the pan and get everything to a low simmer.

DSCN4251As that heats, I prep my flounder.  This huge filet came from Whole Foods today.  I had to trim a bit o’ skin off one edge, but it was a beautiful piece of fish.

DSCN4252As is easiest – and often best – with flounder, I toss it with salt, pepper, and flour…

DSCN4253… and pan-sear it in brown butter over high heat for about 4 minutes on each side.

This last bit went really fast, and I didn’t get to catch the picture.  After my fish is fully cooked, I move the pan off the heat, and place my two 8″ skillets onto two hot burners on my stovetop.  Using my hand blender, I whir a cup of my creamed corn into a thick mush before returning it to its saucepan for a hearty stir.  Then I pour half of the corn into each skillet – which are now hot – bringing the liquid gold to a bursting, bubbling boil.

DSCN4256I layer my planks of tender seared flounder over my thick, rich cheese and corn gravy.  A handful of perfect ruby beet cubes provide cool bites of sweetness, while the unctuous chunks of bacon stud the dish with salt and savor.  Generous squirts of cilantro oil add green to the visual and grass notes to the palate.  The sizzling pans keep the meal hot until the last bite, which Clayton and I scraped up with some crusty buttered bread.  I  need to use these cast iron babies more often, because every time I do, magic like this happens.

Brandied Cream of Mushroom Soup with Butter Poached Monkfish

Tonight’s dinner was mildly inspired by something Whole Foods did NOT have when I went for an early lunch the other day. It was barely 11:15am, and they were transitioning from breakfast to lunch on their hot bar; most of the soups were set up, but one tureen — the one labeled Cream of Mushroom Soup, which I really wanted — was empty.  Well, I wanted lunch RIGHT THEN, and darned if I was going to wait the 2 or 3 minutes it probably would have taken for the dude to bring out that soup, so I cobbled together some salad and whatnot to eat then, promising myself I’d make my own Cream of Mushroom soup for dinner.  Thinking, however, that I might need a bit more substance to my meal than just pureed fungus, I picked up a nice loin of monkfish with the vague idea that I could incorporate it somehow.  The result?  A perfect marriage of richly scented, umame laden mushroom cream and gently butter-poached and pan-seared monkfish, all topped off with cooling creme fraiche and bright cilantro oil.  The ideal dinner for an Indian summer’s evening after enjoying a riverside view of the regatta we Cambridge locals know as the Head of the Charles.

Brandied Cream of Mushroom Soup with Butter Poached Monkfish

2 lbs mixed mushrooms (these are white button, crimini, and portobello)
2 shallots
4-5 cloves garlic
1/4 cup olive oil
3 cups vegetable broth (I used bullion cubes reconstituted with water)
1 cup heavy cream
1/4 cup brandy
sea salt, cracked black pepper
2 sticks butter, cold and cut into cubes
1 tb water
3/4 lb monkfish loin

I start by washing my mushrooms thoroughly (there’s nothing worse than eating dirt grit), then chopping them roughly.

I sliced my shallots and chop my garlic.

In my big stockpot, I saute my aromatics with sea salt and cracked black pepper until just translucent.

In go my mushrooms, which I toss well to heat through.  They’ll begin to soften and melt, releasing their brown liquids into the pot.

I add my vegetable stock, lower the heat to medium, cover, and let simmer for about 30 minutes, or until the volume of my mushrooms had reduced enough for them to start drowning in the liquid in the pot.

Like so.

Using my hand blender, I whirr my soup until it is almost completely smooth, leaving some of it still chunky for texture.  If you have a blender, you can work in batches to do the same thing.

At this point I drop the temperature to low, and add my heavy cream.  I whisk this in well, then keep the soup warm until service, when I’ll add the brandy for a final 15 minute simmer.

Time for monkfish – a.k.a. the “poor man’s lobster”.  It’s an ugly fish, but if prepared correctly it truly does have a very lobster appeal.

As the sun outside sets, and I lose my light (this beam is actually reflecting off of a mirrored surface in the living room, shooting a narrow shaft of light on my kitchen counter), I cut the fish into 4 roughly equal cubes, using a couple toothpicks to pin the thinnest end piece into shape.  (I do this for both presentation purposes, and to make sure each piece of fish poaches at the same speed.)

I’ve butter poached a few times before on this blog (here and here), and the technique has been popping up on hoity-toity menus all over the place.  As fancy sounding as it is, it’s totally easy.  It starts with a little water and a lot of butter.

To make the beurre monté, which is what the poaching liquid is called by the hoi-polloi, start by bringing your little bit of water and a few cold cubes of butter to a simmer over medium heat, whisking constantly to emulsify the fat with the liquid.

Like so.  Keep adding a couple cubes at a time, whisking until the last batch is completely incorporated before adding more butter.

The trick to keeping this from breaking (read: clotting, or turning back into separated solids and liquids) is to maintain very low heat – no higher than 180 degrees.  Since I’m using too little liquid here to read on a thermometer, I just have to wing it – but basically my electric range’s lowest setting is about as high as I went.

When all my butter has been added to the pot, I gently place my salted and peppered pieces of fish into the liquid.  I let them cook for about 5 minutes on this side…

… before carefully turning them over so they can just cook through.  If you look at the picture above, you’ll see how there is still a wee bit of rareness in the very center of the piece of fish — I want this translucence to fade to opacity, which requires about 5 more minutes.

I almost forgot about my croutons.  Using a fresh baguette, I make some wee rounds of bread, which I brush with a bit of the poaching liquid (it is, after all, pretty much just butter) on each side before dusting with garlic powder and baking on 350 for about 4 minutes on each side, until just toasted.

I’ve also whipped up a quick cilantro oil.  It’s about 1/2 cup EVOO, 2 tbs lemon juice, some salt, pepper, the leaves from one bunch of cilantro and 1/2 bunch of parsley (about 1 cup packed to 1/2 cup packed, respectively). I whirr all this together with my blender and set it aside.  All this for just a drizzle?  Yes, please!

Finally, the last garnish is a wee bit of creme fraiche.  Sour cream might have worked, but I felt splurgy.

Right before plating, I pan sear my monkfish to caramelize it ever so slightly on top.  I’ve removed them from the poaching liquid, and then pressed them into a sizzling hot pan.  The butter absorbed and stuck to the flesh will sear each protein in about 2 minutes.

Finally, I add my brandy to my soup, raise the heat to medium so that it can boil off a bit, and season to taste with salt and pepper.

Hearty, warm, and satisfying, this thick and rich soup gladdens my soul.  The tender, juicy, buttery monkfish fall apart when touches by my spoon, and I try to enjoy a bit of fish, creme, and cilantro oil with every mouthful of mushroom puree I can.  The croutons are the perfect sopping vehicle, and a little of the foamy butter from the fish-searing pan adds a nice nutty element to all the deliciousness already in my bowl.  Although I stretched the cooking of this meal out over an afternoon, in reality it took only about an hour of active prep time, so I’m going to have to remember this for an average weeknight meal.  Because that, people, is how I roll.

Swordfish Amandine with Chili Cucumber and Courgettes

Sometimes I fear that my tastes seem limited to meals enriched with butters and creams and cheeses and ingredients that, frankly, don’t run a very wide gamut.  But then I remind myself (which I feel certain I’ve done “out loud” on several different occasions in several different posts on this here blog – IRONY!)  that my title is “What Lolita Eats”, and that I do, truthfully, represent what I actually consume.  If that includes the same ingredients several postings over, well – that illustrates how a family of 2 often has to use up all the stuff it buys, which sometimes takes two or three meals in succession.  After all, I don’t eat a WHOLE head of lettuce in a single sitting, especially if I have main courses, bread courses, and whatnot – but nor do I want the rest of the lettuce to go to waste.  Would that I could be the Pioneer Woman or Jaden Hair – they make miracles happen! – but I’m just lowly Lolita, on a perpetually tight budget, and with but two mouths to feed in a society that packs in bulk.

But tonight I totally shook it up, using common enough ingredients yet in a way that really came together as something different and special.  I have two different blogs to thank for the inspiration: Food 52 and What Did You Eat.  Of course, I couldn’t pull up these recipes when I needed them (because of both a fritzy phone and a strange issue with Tastespotting), so I had to make them more or less from memory, which explains why they are different than their sources, but the results were excellent nonetheless.  Juicy, rich swordfish steaks in a surprising sweethot citrus amandine sauce, served with a cool cucumber & courgette salad wilted in warm spicy sesame dressing.  And all without a pat of butter, an ounce of cream, or a whit of cheese.

Swordfish Amandine with Chili Cucumber and Courgettes

2 6-8oz fresh swordfish steaks
1 medium cucumber
1 medium yellow courgette (squash)
6-8 oz fresh orange juice
1 stalk lemongrass
2″ peeled fresh ginger
2 tiny serrano peppers
3-4 dried red chilies
3 tbs mirin
EVOO and toasted sesame oil
spicy mystery salt, sea salt, ground black pepper
4 oz slivered raw almonds
2 small shallots
cilantro (preferably fresh, but Whole Foods was out!)
fresh snipped chives

I start by removing the seeds and ribs from my serrano peppers, using gloves (since every time I touch a pepper I have uncontrollable urges to stick my fingers in my eyes – resulting in searing, blinding, weeping pain) and slicing a few thin disks off my peeled ginger.

Along with one de-seeded and roughly chopped dried red chili, I add these ingredients and my orange juice to a small saucepan and bring the heat to boil.

Once it starts to roil, I lower the heat to medium and allow the liquid to reduce to at least half its original volume.

When it reaches a nice, thin syrupy consistency….

…. I strain out the solids, and reserve the spicy orange glaze for a bit later.

These might be some of the last vegetables of Clayton’s making that we shall enjoy from the farm.  Deep, sad sigh.  Unfortunately, farming is a tough biz, and not a particularly lucrative one when one isn’t “family”, and since I’m no sugar-mama, Clayton’s had to leave the farm in search of a career that will actually help us pay our bills.  But brighter horizons are in view!  He’s going back to school, he is – and will one day soon be the best damn nurse you ever did see!  I’m proud of you, baby – and I know you can do it!  But back to business: this lovely cucumber and stout little squash are featuring as the cool in tonight’s hot dinner: I start by removing most of their skin in strips, leaving a few stripes to add texture.  Naomi and Jeff – the authors of this particular recipe – suggested cutting them into planks, but since I didn’t have the details in front of me I ended up slicing them into 1/8″ rounds (thin, but not paper-thin).  I set them aside in a bowl while I worked.

Whoops!  I’m getting ahead of myself a bit, since the fish will take about 20 minutes to cook – as long as I need to make the dressing.  I sprinkle both steaks liberally with my Japanese mystery salt (which I’ve used a lot lately, to be sure) to impart the peppery, five-spicy flavor I love so much.

They go out on Little Red, basted with 1/2 of the orange glaze (the other 1/2 will be used in the sauce), and flipped at the halfway point of their 20 minute cook time.  But while this is happening…

… I’ve wiped out my small saucepan to set it to work again.  I also break out my large saucepan, since I’ve got two more preparations before dinner is ready: the amandine sauce, and the salad dressing.  I add a glug each of toasted sesame oil and EVOO to both pans, and set their temps to medium high.

First off is the salad dressing, for which I’ve minced the rest of my peeled ginger, my other serrano pepper, and two dried chilies (seeds and ribs removed – since I’m a wuss).

They get added to the small saucepan along with some of my dried cilantro, then swirled and simmered until all the flavors combine.

This gets tossed over the sliced veggies, and tossed VERY well.  The sizzling oil wilts the crisp courgette and cucumber slightly, and imparts a nutty, hot and spicy savor.  I place the bowl in the fridge to chill slightly.  Naomi and Jeff’s recipe was significantly different – they used some sugar and rice vinegar, and added fresh cilantro, all of which I hope to try next time – but the basic idea I think still holds true.

Meanwhile, I chop my chives, slice my shallots, and try not to snack on my almonds in preparation of the sauce for the fish.  The recipe called for toasted almonds, but I just used raw.

First, I saute the shallots and half the chives in my oil blend.

Next, I add the almonds and gently saute them as well.

Finally, I add the remainder of the orange glaze and my dried cilantro, drop the heat to low, and allow the mixture to blend.  The shallots have been gently caramelizing this whole time, and they will now absorb the rich citrus flavor of the glaze, punching up their sweetness and the sauce’s complexity.

Mouthwatering swordfish is topped with nutty, tendercrunchy almonds dripping in intense sweetness and herbaceous wonderfulness.  The side salad is simultaneously super-cool and spicy-hot, crunchy and tender, light and rich.  Together, these two courses are packed with enticing, piquant, and distinctive flavors, leaving my tongue awash with sublime sensations.  This is what we call “company dinner” at our house: too bad for my friends I didn’t invite anyone over to share!