I was impatient, couldn’t wait for more than eight months.
It got another rub. Then an infestation of cheese mites, not necessarily a bad thing!
The always fraught cutting:
I was a bit surprised to see some cracks/gaps in the paste, but they don’t seem to have affected the flavour.
But, you ask, how did it taste?
Much better than I expected! So different from a cheddar . . . the first thing that hits your palate is the sweetness of the paste, but then comes in roaring like a train a burst of (still sweet) complexity, so in the sense of the succession of the tastes, a bit like an aged cheddar, but IMO better.
Now I’ll have both Cheshire and aged Edam in my fridge. I’m a lucky guy!
Usually I make curry pastes from scratch, but when I’m lazy, use the canned varieties. So far I’ve mostly used the Maesri Thai brand, most of which I’ve tried, and with one or two exceptions, have been very good. This time I tried one of Aroy-D’s, and the results were pretty good.
Ingredients:
5 Tbsp. curry paste
2 Tbsp. oil
2 x 13.5 oz. cans coconut milk
2/3 lb. meat of your choice – I had a lamb chop which was aging (badly) in the freezer, so that’s what I used
Vegetables of your choice
2 Tbsp. palm sugar (substitute: regular sugar)
2 Tbsp. fish sauce
6 Kaffir lime leaves (substitute: don’t use them)
2 red chili peppers, slices (substitute: or not)
1/4 C. fresh Thai basil leaves (or not)
Method:
Heat the oil to medium hot, then add the curry paste:
Stir for two or three minutes, until the paste is fragrant:
Add the coconut milk and the meat, and any long-cooking vegetables like carrots. Bring to the boil, and cook over a medium boil for 10 minutes, stirring occasionally:
Add the rest of the vegetables, and cook for another five minutes or until the vegetables are done to your taste.
But, you ask, how did it taste?
Kind of bland. A nice medium heat, but I ended up adding more sugar, fish sauce, and the juice of a lime, which made it much better.
This is another quick ‘n’ easy vegetable soup. I hadn’t make a vegetable soup with kale before, but this was delicious, my new fave, and I’ll certainly make it again.
As with most “creamy” vegetable soups, you have a couple of options as to how to make it creamy. You can add actual cream — or half ‘n’ half or milk — but I usually substitute potatoes. Once the soup is blended, the gluten in the potatoes stretches and gives it that creamy texture.
Ingredients:
2 Tbsp. oil
2 cloves garlic, finely chopped
1 medium onion, diced
2 medium potatoes, peeled and cubed.
3 C. stock of your choice (as always, I prefer chicken stock)
3 handfuls of kale, chopped
Pepper
Method:
Heat the oil, and over medium heat, sauté the onions, stirring often, for 4-5 minutes or until soft:
Add the garlic and stir continuously for another minute. Add the stock and potatoes, and pick out those pesky burnt onion bits, which thankfully always float:
Bring to the boil and cook for 10 minutes.
Now add the kale:
Okay, you might have noticed. This wasn’t the freshest kale, and bits of it had turned yellow. But in the end, that didn’t make a difference.
Continue cooking for another 10-15 minutes, until the potatoes are soft, and the kale pretty soft too:
You can use an immersion blender or t’ regular kind:
This is a vegetable soup that will end up very “pureed,” and doesn’t need to be strained after blending:
Add any garnishes you like — roasted sliced almonds or sunflower seeds are nice — but I just used some scallions:
Not only is it pretty, but have I mentioned that this is the best cream of vegetable soup I’ve made? Double yum!
I did make some fitful attempts at making “ethnic” (or whatever word you want to use) food (Chinese and Japanese) when I was in high school and college, but my first experience with authentic ethnic food was when I moved to DC in 1985. And that was Ethiopian . . . several excellent restaurants like Red Sea and Meskerem (both now closed) which seemed pretty authentic, not just the food, but the whole experience, including sitting on low cushioned stools around a large platter of shared food, eating without utensils (fun!) . . . and the food was delicious.
Ethiopian food I would mostly compare (completely ignoring the complexities of both) with Indian, in that a lot of the dishes have fairly complicated spice mixes, and many of them are variations on stews, long-cooked dishes. So, like Indian, a lot have a fairly long list of ingredients, but are easy to make (or screw up, and even if you do, the results will probably be good!)
Just a brief anecdote, from back when the Ethiopian famine was big in the news: I told my friend Pete back in the Midwest that I had been to an Ethiopian restaurant, and, wag that he is, asked, “What do they serve you, an empty bowl?”
So now I’ve tried finally to make Ethiopian food, based on a not-very-good (as in extremely poorly edited) cookbook from Amazon. I’m still struggling with getting injera (the spongy pancake used in many Ethiopian recipes) (https://tiabr.com/injera-partial-success/) right, but have been able to re-create some of my favourite restaurant recipes:
Ethiopian Pancake with Chicken Stew, Greens, and Lentils:
Injera, a fermented and spongy flatbread, is a key element of Ethiopian cuisine. It’s often served as the base for dishes, and you’re served more of it in the form of rolled pancakes — then you just tear off bits and use it to pick up the food. No cutlery needed!
Injera can be made with wheat flour (as in the above pic), but as far as I understand, it’s traditionally made with teff, a completely different grain. But teff flour, at least in the U.S., is expensive ($4/lb.) compared to wheat flour, so Ethiopian restaurants may charge more if you order all-teff injera.
My experience with making teff injera has been frustrating — not the preparation of the dough, but the cooking of it. I’ve never been able to get close to the spongy texture, as in the above pic.
Ingredients:
2 C. teff flour
3 C. water
Method:
Stir together the flour and water, then leave at room temperature for two to three days, until bubbly and slightly sour smelling. I’ve had best results here adding a bit (1 Tbsp.) of sourdough starter, although you can also use a bit of yeast. The reason for adding them is that you’ll give “good” yeast a head start, so it can out-compete any less-desirous wild yeasts.
At first it will look bubbly:
Then the flour will separate, leaving water on top:
Carefully pour off the water:
In a saucepan, bring 1 C. of water to the boil. Add 1/2 C. of the dough, then whisk vigorously for 1-2 minutes. As it cooks, it will get very thick:
Allow it to cool to room temperature, then add it back to the dough, whisking to incorporate it. At this point, the dough will be very thick, and you want something more like a crepe batter, so add water as needed (I usually have to add 1 to 1-1/2 C. water.
(Optional) allow to ferment for a few more hours.
Wow, that was easy! Now the not-fun (for me) began!
You REALLY REALLY need a non-stick pan that can be covered. The first couple of times I tried to make this, I used both a non-seasoned and seasoned (but not non-stick) pan, and it just stuck:
So I ended up making teff fritters . . . good, but not what I wanted!
So:
Heat a non-stick pan on high. No oil! Add about 1/3-1/2 cup of the dough, and cook it for a minute or two, until there are bubbles on the top. Then cover the pan (don’t flip the pancake) and cook for another couple of minutes.
My problem? My only non-stick pan doesn’t have a cover!
So this was the best I could do:
So . . . not the nice spongy injera I was hoping for. But actually pretty light, and delicious with the Ethiopian dishes I made.
After all this, I’ve found out I’m not the only one who has been frustrated by making 100% teff injera . . . apparently, it’s much easier if you use 1/2 teff and 1/2 wheat flour, so I’ll try that next time.
This is Ethiopian spiced butter, cooked (so, like ghee), but with the addition of spices. You can substitute butter or cooking oil, but this adds a subtle deliciousness. It’s another recipe that has lots of ingredients but is easy to make, and it will keep for months in the fridge.
Ingredients:
1 lb. butter
8 black cardamom pods, crushed
4 garlic cloves, sliced
2 shallots, diced
2″ of ginger, sliced
2 cinnamon sticks
2 tsp. cumin seeds
2 tsp. fenugreek seeds
2 tsp. coriander seeds
2 tsp. black peppercorns
2 bay leaves
Method:
Heat the butter and all the other ingredients over low heat. You will start to hear a soft “crackling” sound, which means the solids are beginning to cook out. As soon as the crackling stops, remove from the heat.
Allow it to cool slightly, then strain out the solids, pushing on them with the back of the spoon to extract the maximum of butter.
This spice mix is fundamental to many Ethiopian dishes (about which more soon!), and since it’s just a mix, a doddle to make, although you need a coffee/spice grinder, and there’s lots of ingredients!
Ingredients:
To dry-roast:
2 tsp. cumin seeds
1 tsp. fenugreek seeds
1 tsp. cardamom seeds
1 tsp. coriander seeds
4 whole cloves
8 black peppercorns
5 dried chilis of your choice
The rest:
2 tsps. onion powder
1 tsp. garlic powder
1 tsp. turmeric
1/2 tsp. cayenne or other pepper powder
1/2 tsp. ground ginger
1/4 C. (4 Tbsps.) ground paprika
1/4 tsp. ground nutmeg
Method:
In a skillet over medium heat, add the “to dry-roast” ingredients, and cook them, swirling constantly, for 3-4 minutes until fragrant:
Allow them to cool for a few minutes, then grind them:
Add to the other ingredients, then stir:
A lot of Ethiopian recipes call for multiple tablespoons of berbere, so this probably won’t last long!
I tried an experiment: four-gallon makes each of Cheddar, Cheshire, and Lancashire, all cloth-bound; then I could compare and contrast and find out which I preferred.
Perhaps I’ve developed some “cheese intuition,” or maybe it just smelled funny, but after six months there seemed to be something off with the Lancashire. Indeed, as I discovered after cutting it open:
Completely horrible and a spectacular failure, and it went straight into the bin.
Cheshire can be eaten young, after just a few weeks, but that wasn’t part of the experiment. It was with some trepidation that after two more months, I cut into the Cheshire:
. . . and should have sharpened my cleaver first!
The paste was dryer and crumblier (and oranger . . . I may have had a heavy hand with the annatto) than I expected:
But, you ask, how did it taste?
I gotta say, darn good. Somewhat different from a Chedder, maybe a bit sweeter?, but with a nice complexity of flavor.
So, very happy with this. I had resorted to buying some rubber supermarket cheddar, but now I have four pounds of similar, which will just get better in the fridge.
Edit: I made a basic baked mac ‘n’ cheese, and it was surprisingly delicious, maybe the best mac ‘n’ cheese I’ve had? Creamy and sweet, but with a real depth of cheesy flavour. Sorry, Kraft!
