food

Random Appetites: the Food of Love

Nibbles

Aphrodisiacs are one of those things you either believe in or you don’t because there’s no real scientific evidence that any of them work. Superstitious in origin, they build on various forms of sympathetic magic (the idea that if an animal, for instance, possesses a lot of one quality, then the ingesting of the animal will give you some measure of it) or simple vitamin-boosts from what would have otherwise been lacking.

Named for Aphrodite, goddess of love and beauty, who was supposedly born from the sea, many seafood and shellfish varieties fall under the heading of aphrodisiacs; sort of a “gulit” by association thing (not to mention the similarity of certain foods to certain items to be affected by the aphrodisiac). Many people can’t quite stomach the thought of oysters on the half-shell and fried foods don’t always put one in the mood for love. Still, if you want to serve oysters and see how much of a spark they give, try my favorite way…

Oyster Stew

2-3 dozen small oysters, with liquor
6 green onions, chopped
1 rib of celery, chopped
2 Tbsp minced parsley (fresh)
1 quart milk
1 stick butter
Salt, pepper and Worcestershire sauce to taste

Saute the green onions, celery and parsley in a little bit of the butter while you heat the rest of the butter and milk in a separate pot–heat, don’t boil! Add the oysters and liquor to the vegetables and cook until the oysters are almost cooked and then add them to the milk and butter mixture. Let the oysters cook through and season the soup with the salt, pepper and Worcestershire sauce. Garnish with a few oyster crackers or some homemade croutons.

Often, though, it’s less about the foods you eat and more about how you eat them. Notice that many of the foods found on lists of aphrodisiacs are able, and common, to be eaten as finger foods? Set up a romantic buffet of carrot sticks, steamed artichokes (the scraping of the leaves via the teeth is remeniscent of certain romantic biting techniques from the Kama Sutra), honey-glazed figs, asparagus spears, peeled shrimp and oysters and feed them to each other in a comfortable setting. Feel free to add your own preferred foods and not stick too closely to the recommendations of this or any site: the important thing is your perception of the food and the event, not what you’re eating.

Though I would caution against overly heavy foodstuffs. Have you ever noticed that there are are no red meats listed as aphrodisiacs? I think it’s because red meat in any quantity (while undeniably satisfying from time to time) tends to weight the body down and tie up the digestive system for so long that the point, generally the immediate one, of aphrodisiacs is lost. So, if you must include some heavier proteins, keep them then, small, not overcooked and without heavy sauces.

And, no, I’m not forgetting about one major aphrodisiac. Once prized for it’s scarcity but now widely available in all manner of concoctions, a good chocolate will almost always be welcome at the end of a romantic meal (or the beginning, for that matter). And what better way to feed each other chocolate than by the very convivial means of fondue.

Chocolate Fondue for 2

4 oz plain chocolate, chopped
2/3 c heavy cream
1 Tbsp Grand Marnier or other fruit or citrus liqueur
1 Tbsp butter, diced
Bananas, strawberries, sponge cake and other foods for dipping

Melt together the chocolate, cream and liqueur in a heavy-bottomed saucepan or double-boiler, stirring constantly and without overheating. Alternately, place the mixture into a fondue pot over sterno or a tea light (depending on the fondue set). Once smooth, dip the fruit or cake into the chocolate and enjoy.

Now go start those plans for Valentine’s Day; it’s right around the corner!

Random Appetites: New Year’s Food Traditions

Nibbles

Along with watching the Rose Parade (and, I suppose, the football game afterwards), I grew up knowing that New Year’s Day meant 2 things: cabbage and black-eyed peas.

Supposedly, the cabbage (or any greens for that matter) symbolizes wealth (get it: green–>money) and the peas were for health (some say luck, I prefer to go with health). As a child I recall not liking either of these foods all that much but Mom insisted we eat at least one bite of each! Things change over the years, however, and I enjoy both immensely these days.

Now, the cabbage/greens are pretty obvious, but what is up with the peas (actually beans, but common terminology calls them peas) and luck/health? The prevailing theory seems to date back to the Civil War when the crop was the only one available (since it was usually grown for animal feed) after the North marauded through the South. Hence, black-eyed peas were an important form of sustenance for those who survived the War. The irony, of course, is their name: a black eye would be considered neither lucky or healthy to have, so maybe the above is all some apocryphal nonsense trumped up by the Black-Eye-Pea Farmers of the world. Either way, done right, they can be very tasty.

Cabbage is easy to cook: Remove the outer leaves and thick stem from the head of cabbage. Cut in quarters or so and then separate the leaves in chunks, putting as much will fit into a large pot along with a ham hock, hambone, or some rendered bacon and a little bit of water. Not too much since cabbage has a high water content and will cook down to a fraction of its former self rather quickly. If you have more cabbage than will fit in the pot to begin with, put the lid on and wait a bit and then add the rest once it’s cooked down a bit. Cook until tender, add salt and pepper to taste and enjoy.

If you just can’t stand cooked cabbage, greens or green salads I see no reason why, say, coleslaw couldn’t be substituted for the same benefit.

Black-eyed peas can be a little tougher, only because it takes a while to bring out the best of their flavor. You can start from dry and soak over night, drain and then cook until tender or you can do what I do: buy good quality canned, drain and rinse thoroughly, then cook with the de rigueur ham hock, salt pork or bacon, salt (watch it if you’ve used salt pork that you don’t overdo) and pepper. The peas should be cooked until tender but not mush and, if done right, have a slightly buttery flavor even without additional seasoning. If you’re really pressed for time or haven’t had much luck getting your peas to turn out right, the Glory brand of canned black-eyed peas is a decent substitute for home-seasoned.

In some parts of the South, Hopping John–a “salad” of black-eyed peas and rice–is the customary way of getting your peas for the year. I’ve never had a batch that wasn’t really dry and mealy and don’t much care for it, myself. I’ve also heard that you should eat 365 black-eyed peas for luck/health every day of the year but, as much as I’ve come to love them, that’s a few too many peas for one day!

No matter how you prepare them, the only other thing you need to add for your traditional (if a bit superstitious) New Year’s Meal is plenty of corn bread–not only is it tasty on it’s own (try adding whole kernel corn, ham chunks and some chopped jalepenos if you don’t like the plain sort), it’s great for soaking up that pot liquor from the cabbage and peas.

Want something sweet to round out the meal? I’ve heard that the Italians (and other wine-folk) make a habit of eating 12 grapes on New Year’s Day. Some even go so far as to use it as a bit of a divination tool: if, for instance, the fifth grape is sour you can expect May to be a sour month and so forth.