Showing posts with label octopus. Show all posts
Showing posts with label octopus. Show all posts
Sunday, December 18, 2011
Conquering the Sea Monster (Fighting the Sea Monster, Round 3)
It has become a bit of an obsession. I just want to get a dang octopus tenderized.
Round one involved a 45 minute simmer, followed by a quick marinade, then a toss on the grill. The result? One chewy cephalopod.
Round two found our 8-legged meal braised in olive oil and vinegar for over an hour, then another skid across a hot grill grate. If not for a hunger brought about by consumption, it would've remained untouched. Even rubbery than the first attempt.
As I lay in my kitchen- a dejected, pummeled pile of inadequate cooking technique- the invitation upon the refrigerator gave a glimmer of hope. Every year, we get together with a few folks in December and celebrate the food and drink of a particular country. Upon the invitation, scrawled in what appeared to be octopus tentacles, I read, "Spain". Indeed, the Spanish consume their share of this potentially tasty critter, and a particular preparation- Pulpo a la Gallega- is said to be tender and delicious.
Tender and delicious. Blinded by the suspect wiles of the internet, and its sultry promises of edible- nay- scrumptious sea creatures, I- yet again- lined the pockets of the local octopus tycoons. Relaxing, no doubt, in the spoils of their octopus fortunes.
Pulpo (which is Spanish for "octopus") a la Gallega is essentially a preparation of boiling the creature until tender in a pot of water (I added some onions and a little garlic and vinegar). The addition of a copper penny is said to help replicate the authentic technique of boiling in a copper pot. Also, I added a wine cork to the boil. Tradition says it ensures a tender 'pus. Conventional wisdom says it just floats on top and looks stupid and irresponsible.
Once boiled, the octopus is sliced thinly along with sliced potatoes, and the whole mess is drizzled with olive oil and paprika. Not surprising, as olive oil and paprika seem to be Spain's version of Ranch Dressing.
With no room for error (I had already convinced a few timid eaters that they would love food with tentacles), I employed a couple techniques seen at various corners of the interweb:
1) When I got home with my raw quarry, I threw them in the freezer overnight. Then, I let them thaw in the fridge for a day. I'm guessing the freezing creates ice crystals, and the expanding ice disrupts the cell walls in the meat. By the time the 'pus is thawed, it's all jacked up in the "structural integrity" department.
2) I made sure to boil for over an hour. After boning up on some light reading about thermal denaturing of proteins in squid, I figured out that the secret to cooking squid and octopus is a "bookend" approach. That is to say, either cook very quickly or very long. One can either cook so quickly that the protein strands remain intact, or so long that they completely unravel. Anywhere in between, and the proteins constrict together, forming a tough, rubbery texture. And, outside of an awesome name for an album, "Tough, Rubbery Texture" has little appeal.
As knife hit tentacle, I knew that nerdy food science had paved the way for sexy food making. The octopus was tender, and the monkey was off my back.
Granted, I still screwed it up a bit. Wanting a hot preparation, I chose instead to cut up the octopus and potatoes, then quick-fry them in olive oil, with the addition of salt and paprika. Not enough oil, and too much paprika. All the paprika caked on the meat, and it became a bit of a soggy mess. That said, the critter was tender, and I could put this one to rest.
Tip (guess I'm giving "tips" now): when cooking something from a certain region, seek out wines from the same area. As this is pulpo a la Gallega, it hails from the coastal region of Galacia in northwestern Spain. There, the white wines of the Rias Baixas rule, and ones made from the white grape Albariño can make you freak out. Maybe it's the proximity to the ocean, but these wines can taste almost salty (in my opionion, a simpler way of describing what some wine jerk means when he says a wine is "minerally"). They are rich and aromatic, but clean enough for seafood. I snagged this one from Mac's in Midtown, and it was phat, if I may pull that term out of massive obscurity:
Sunday, December 11, 2011
Simmering Down
Had a bit of a whiny rant go down late last week that came off (to me) as unappreciative.
Spent the entire weekend basking in the glory of lots of good wine, great friends, and amazing food. Put in perspective how the wine world has so positively affected my life. A really useful lesson in focusing one what is important. Indeed, the "business" side of wine and marketing can draw us away from it's ultimate goal: enjoyment. From Friday night through today, that goal was achieved.
Oh, and another milestone this weekend: I finally got a damn octopus to be tender. More on that later, as the epic saga between me and the octopodes continues...
Friday, July 1, 2011
Fighting the Sea Monster, Round 2
(alternate title: "Fighting male-pattern baldness". I think it's time to throw in the towel and Bic that bitch. But how awkward if I end up having a birthmark that says "Live Nudes" or something...)
About a year ago, I decided to buy an octopus and cook it. Maybe because it was cheap. Maybe because I'd been mesmerized by a recent viewing of Mega Shark vs. Giant Octopus, and felt humans had to even the score. Or, perhaps I'd cobbled together a stash of Assyrtiko, and was compelled to cram my suck-hole with something briny and very Greek. After determining that a long kiss with Olympia Dukakis would be too Greek (and certainly far-too briny), I opted for an octopus.
But here was the problem: like nibbling into the lower lip of Olympia Dukakis' leathery maw during the hypothetical make-out session that should have never advanced to this disturbing point, my cooked cephalopod of one year ago was exceptionally chewy. Like rubber.
But that tends to happen with octopodes. The interweb is littered with tips and tricks to eliminate the chew. A sort of boiling method- last year's opus- failed miserably.
So why battle this tricky little critter again? I blame it on a recent meal at Atlanta's Kyma, where they crank out an octopus dish so tender and delicious, it's like eating heaven, provided heaven is an 8-legged sea creature that predicts soccer matches. Honestly, good octopus is akin to a firmer, milder scallop, in my opinion. If that sounds like something in your wheelhouse, then you can understand my misguided persistence. Gleaning some hot tips off our waiter, I opted for a new preparation, sure to be a smash hit.
Out of a marriage of trade secrets and my own chops in the kitchen, I decided to cut my octopus into individual tentacles, braise it for an hour in a mixture of red wine vinegar, olive oil, lemons, garlic, fresh oregano, salt, and pepper, then finish it with a good crisp on the grill. Tender and Crisp was the goal. Like a Burger King TenderCrisp sandwich, except edible.
(no matter how it turned out, few things look cooler than a tentacle on the grill).
I garnished with some grilled lemon slices, a few herbs, a sprinkle of sea salt, and a drizzle of good olive oil...
...disaster. So chewy. Inedible to some.
Sea Monster - 2. Balding Land Ape - 0.
I guess all I can do is toast that which has become my latest white whale...
...at least until I get my peepers on Mega Shark vs. Crocosaurus. Gator tail, anyone?
Wednesday, June 2, 2010
Fighting the Sea Monster
If there's one virtue of long holiday weekends that I feel is overlooked, it's the movie marathons- namely, the bad movie marathons. Sure, all the tanned and toned must instinctively sun themselves by the pool like the cold-blooded reptiles that they are, but the subculture of pale and pasty Irish/German-rooted folk choose to seek solace from the sun's freckle-inducing wrath. So, we turn to movies.
On this Memorial Day, I got hooked on the movies of the Sci-Fi channel. I know: you're thinking, "but Joe, you seem far too cool and desirable to women to watch the Sci-Fi channel." ...
...
Anyway, the magnum opus of the day was a brilliant piece of film called Mega Shark vs. Giant Octopus, starring master thespians Deborah Gibson and Lorenzo Lamas. There's not much plot to explain outside of the title, but here's a screenshot to give you an idea of the pedigree of cinema we're discussing:
I frankly don't know how you San Franciscans drive across the Golden Gate bridge all willy-nilly with this sort of imminent danger looming below. Careless!And- naturally- the other half of the equation in this film was an octopus of equal size and terror. Feeling the need to summon my own inner-giant shark, I sought out to dispatch the tentacled beast myself.
Octopus, although not incredibly prevalent on the American dinner table, is a popular and tasty critter in many Latin American, Asian, and Mediterranean cultures. I imagine the heaviest purchasing period in the States occurs when the Detroit Red Wings are in the Stanley Cup playoffs. However unusual as this food may be, most efforts I've tasted have been quite delicious (if not somewhat chewy).Prevention methods for said chewiness vary greatly on the interweb: from overnight marination to boiling to using a meat mallet to repeatedly smacking the critter against the pavement, as is supposedly common in Greece. Having neither the time for marination or a meat mallet (or a desire to have my neighbors watch me abuse cephalopods in my driveway), I opted for the boiling method.
Once the critter was inspected for cleanliness (my local fishmonger thankfully took the initiative to remove the innards, ink sac, eyes, and beak), I dropped it into a pot of boiling, salted water with a squeezed lemon and its rind. I let it go for about 40 minutes, hoping tenderness ensued.
After removed from the water and allowed to drain, I placed my eight-legged pal into a marinade of olive oil, white wine vinegar, lemon juice, chopped garlic, salt, pepper, and oregano. I let it stew for about 30 minutes before throwing over hot coals to crisp up the edges:
The now flame-kissed beast was cut it up into bite-sized pieces (removing the still incredibly-chewy bits), drizzled with extra virgin olive oil, a sprinkle of sea salt, and a squeeze of grilled lemon. Overall, much was still a little rubbery, but the mild flavor (sort of like a cross between calamari and scallop) was very pleasant, and the smaller tentacles were tender and crispy.
Since only a fool would eat Mediterranean-style seafood without a bottle of wine, I cracked open a bottle of Assyrtiko from Santorini (a Greek island), graciously provided to me by wine PR pal Constance. She's always coming to the table with interesting wines from around the world (previously plying me with samples from Australia and Austria). Very cool. Maybe even cooler than a fictional battle between a giant shark and a monstrous octopus.
Brimming with confidence that a Greek delicacy like grilled octopus with lemon would fit the bill swimmingly with a Greek white wine, I was delighted that the Assyrtiko (a white wine grape native to Greece) proved to be a solid seafood match; very, very dry with mineral and lemon peel aromas, and it was fresh and clean. A little bitter on the finish (sort of like grapefruit peel), but a good complement to the octopus. With the mineral component so evident, I would probably pair this up with some oysters or shellfish in the future, yet the octopus had a mild enough flavor that- although not minerally- played nicely along the Assyrtiko's subtleness.However, I feel like the chewiness of a giant prehistoric octopus might be too much for the wine to handle...and where would I get a pot that big? Furthermore, I can't even begin to say how inappropriate this would be with enormous shark filets. I saw that shark eat a Jumbo Jet, a U.S. Navy Destroyer, a Frigate, a section of the Golden Gate bridge, and a Nuclear Submarine. With all those metallic elements surely affecting the flavor of the meat, I think something with petrol aromas- like a Alsace or German Riesling- would suit such a meal more appropriately.
Come back tomorrow, when we'll be discussing wines to pair with roast sasquatch, fricasse of ghost, Loch Ness Monster short ribs, and Deborah Gibson's acting career stew.
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