Afield {Book Review}

In conjunction with the 2013 Piglet Tournament of Cookbooks, the editors at Food52 put out a call for the community to review some cookbooks for their Community Picks portion of the fun and games. I ended up this this one: Afield: A Chef’s Guide to Preparing and Cooking Wild Game and Fish by Jesse Griffiths.

Afield is part manifesto, part cookbook, and part coffee table book. And it is definitely not a book for people who want to believe that the meat they purchase comes - headless, legless - wrapped in cellophane at the grocery store and was never a living animal.

Broken down into ten chapters, Jesse guides the reader through prepping and cooking everything from snipes to wild boar and from crab to rabbit.  Each section includes step-by-step images of how-tos – pluck doves, clean catfish, filet flounder, pick crabs, field dress large game, butcher a deer – and a bevy of easy-to-follow recipes.

Given that my circle of friends includes hunters and fishermen, I often get emails with photos of successful kills held aloft next to proud grins. And I relish getting deliveries of homemade sausages, cuts of wild boar and venison, whole crabs, and more. But I have never had to deal with an entire animal, except for seafoods. So with Afield on my desk, and this review to pen, I made a few calls to get my hands on some wild boar and some fresh crabs.

Photo courtesy of Kevin Brookhouser

Brian, “the best killer in the family” according to my 9-yearold, took me to his game freezer; I toyed with making something with his wild boar sausages. But, in the end, I snagged a piece of wild boar backstrap and followed Jesse’s recipe for Wild Boar Rillettes. Before reading Afield, I had never heard of a rillettes, much less eaten one. Rillettes are savory meats or fish that have been braised or prepared as confit. As suggested, I served my rillettes with a hefty bread, grainy mustard, and homemade pickles. Jesse’s recipe was easy to do and resulted in a salty, creamy, satisfying dish.

Click for the Wild Boar Rillette recipe on my kitchen blog: 

Culinary Adventures with Camilla

Photo courtesy of Bret Boatman

Because my friend’s husband – my usual crab source – was out of town, she asked her co-worker if he would help me out. Bret called and hooked me up with two beauties that he had just pulled from Monterey Bay earlier in the day. Making a variation of Jesse’s Pasta with Crab, Basil, and Garlic was an easy dinner on a Sunday night. Well, easy for me. My husband had to pick the crabs clean which I really, really appreciated. I did pour him an oatmeal stout while he cracked and pulled.

The recipe was, as promised, a great way to stretch a few crabs into a filling dish with just a handful of other things. Jesse’s stories are written in a way that make you feel as if you have stepped into the scene. And his recipes, besides the fresh meat, utilize ingredients you have readily available in your pantry. Jody Horton’s accompanying photos are vivid; you feel as if you could reach right into the page and grab food from the plates.

Afield is an accessible, inspiring tome that helps you turn a carcass into a culinary masterpiece.

*Note: Several of us reviewed the same cookbooks. My review was, in the end, not used by Food52 during their Piglet.*

Dancing on Your Palate

A Food52 Potluck on the Monterey Peninsula

Story and Photos by Camilla M. Mann

The etymology of ‘potluck’ falls into two camps. One camp clings to the literal compound – pot + luck – and credits its first use to Thomas Nash, a 16^th century British writer, to mean food cooked for an unexpected or uninvited guest, as in the guest gets “the luck of the pot” or whatever the cook has on hand. Another camp claims that it’s the misspelling of the Native Americans’ potlatch. Potlatch from the Chinook, means "to give away" or "a gift;” traditional potlatch ceremonies, in the Pacific Northwest, involved the redistribution of wealth within a community and were accompanied by singing, dancing, and bartering, as well as feasting. The only thing a potluck and a potlatch have in common: it’s a meal with no particular menu. Each participant brings dishes to share with others.

When I agreed to host a potluck, during the month of December, for the publishers of Food52 to celebrate the launch of their second cookbook, I didn’t take into consideration just how jam-packed my schedule was. To the usual holiday madness, add my little one’s birthday, the annual holiday fund drive for the foundation that I chair, birthday parties for four of our close friends, two of those whose birthday treats I always make, two rounds of Secret Santa, and parties upon parties upon parties. December quickly descends into chaos with sticky notes all over my calendar to remind me where I’m supposed to be next. So, what was I thinking committing to putting together a potluck where guests were invited to bring dishes from Food52’s website?!? Clearly, I wasn’t.

Thankfully, my parents decided that their annual holiday party would be the perfect venue for a Food52 potluck. They invited several friends from their ballroom dancing circle – artists, retired teachers, meteorologists, and more. It was quite a multi-talented group. They dance, they play instruments, they sing, and they cook. All I had to do was put together some foodie schwag bags – from Food52’s sponsors –, cook, show up, take some photos, scribble some notes, and taste the dishes that paraded through the door.

Steve, who owns his own outdoor pizza oven, baked some rosemary focaccia. Based on his vast experience with turning yeast, flour, salt, and warm water into pillowy goodness, I don’t think that he used a Food52 recipe; but if he had, this one might be close.

Yi selected Absurdly Addictive Asparagus, the Best Asparagus Recipe Contest winner posted by kaykay. She reported that the recipe was easy to follow and she really loved the photographs. The resulting dish was delightful. It was, as promised, absurdly addictive and I’ll be making it again soon.

Theo brought Thanksgiving Osso Buco posted by QueenSashy in the Best Thanksgiving Turkey Recipe Contest. Though this didn’t win that contest, it was a winner in our book. And, it turns out that this was the second time that Theo made the osso buco. His first attempt used chicken while his potluck offering was made with turkey. The chicken rendered the dish too dry, so he swapped poultries. Osso buco is traditionally made with veal shanks. That I knew, but I learned that osso buco also requires that the meat and bones be cut in a particular way; they are cross-cut with the bone in. As soon as Theo lifted the lid off his dish, the aromas of allspice, cinnamon, and nutmeg swirled together and made my mouth water.

Other dishes included roasted pork tenderloin, clam chowder, greens with poached pears, wild rice salad, and the two dishes that I made with my current culinary obsession: fennel pollen. I made a fennel-barley soup and a roasted fennel dip [click the names to read the recipes on my kitchen blog, Culinary Adventures with Camilla]. An article I read about fennel pollen dubs it “culinary fairy dust” and I couldn’t agree more. Just a sprinkling takes a dish from delicious to divine.

I was thankful for the opportunity - from Food52 - to get some likeminded people around tables who were willing to explore the collection of recipes...and share their creations.

This gathering of dancing cooks was, as a potluck should be, a communal feast full of laughter and libations.

*Full disclosure: In exchange for hosting this potluck, I am receiving complimentary copies of The Food52 Cookbook, Volume 2: Seasonal Recipes from Our Kitchens to Yours, beans from Rancho Gordo, and butter from Olli's Handcrafted Cultured Butter.

Book Review for Quirk Books: Pure Vanilla

I received a complimentary advance copy of Shauna Sever's new cookbook, Pure Vanilla, from Quirk Books to write a review. Never having done a cookbook review, I was more than a little nervous; I mean, really, I don't follow recipes very well. But here's what I wrote [see below]. Quirk circulated it on social media. And a friend said, "it made me want to go out and buy the book." I'd call that a success, right?

Pure Vanilla. Pure Inspiration. {Book Review}

click here for the link to my original post, on my kitchen blog: Culinary Adventures with Camilla

*Full Disclosure: I received a complimentary, advance copy of this book 

- Pure Vanilla by Shauna Sever -  
from the publishers for the purpose of reviewing it.*

When I first received the package from Quirk Books, giddy excitement washed over me as I tore open the envelope. I eagerly flipped through the pages, enthralled by Shauna Sever's prose and entranced by Leigh Beisch's photographs. I longed to reach into the pictures and pluck out a treat. 

Then I got to work, surrounded by vanilla beans and vanilla extracts, and my enthusiasm transformed into sheer panic: What was I thinking? How could I possibly agree to review a cookbook? I can't follow a recipe to save my life! I rarely read a recipe, make a grocery list, and head to the store. I am always adjusting, based on what I already have in my cupboards. I use cookbooks as a jumping off point.

But I decided that I am not alone. I am certain there are other home cooks who do as I do. We own cookbooks not necessarily to follow the recipes to the letter but for inspiration. And - for those readers - I think my review will be perfectly reasonable. For the others, the recipe followers, accept my apologies in advance.

I will never underestimate the magic of vanilla again. We use the term 'vanilla' derogatorily, to mean plain, boring, ordinary. How completely misguided! Having spent the last week scraping the caviar out of the beans, infusing syrups, steeping pods, and immersing vanilla in salts and sugars, I see vanilla for the complex, exotic, and intriguing ingredient that it is. And, as Shauna writes, "It's high time to catapult this delicious ingredient into the superstar stratosphere where she so deserves to be!"

Before launching into her original recipes, Shauna encapsulates an almost 400-year history of the vanilla bean into nine points, taking the reader from the Aztecs conquering the Totonac Indians of Mexico in 1519 to Thomas Jefferson, then the U.S. ambassador to France, carrying a bundle of beans home to Monticello in 1789. In 1841 the 12-year-old son of a slave devised a way of hand-pollinating vanilla orchids; his process is still employed today.

She details the various forms of vanilla - yes, you can get it in more than just beans and extracts - provides tasting notes, and fields FAQs: Why is vanilla so expensive? How do I store vanilla? And what is French vanilla?

Her writing is accessible, her directions clear, and her recipes inspiring.

Never having written a cookbook review, I wasn't sure how many recipes to try. I ended up preparing about a dozen of Shauna's recipes. I used her Vanilla-Citrus Marinade on salmon filets and served it atop tri-color quinoa. I revamped some leftover bread and naan using her Vanilla Bean Bread Pudding recipe. I topped a poached egg with vanilla-flecked hollandaise and her Vanilla, Brown Sugar, and Black Pepper Bacon. I floated Vanilla-Agave Marshmallows in spiced hot chocolate. And I'll be using my vanilla salt and vanilla sugar for weeks to come; I am anxiously awaiting the two month mark to uncork my vanilla extract.

But the recipe that I truly adored, for its versatility in both sweet and savory applications, was inspired by her  Golden Pear Vanilla Jam. 

Bartlett-Vanilla Bean Jam

Harken back to my warning that I use recipes as inspiration. I skipped the pectin, halved the sugar, and doubled the lemon juice.

6 Bartlett pears, cored and thinly sliced

2 C organic granulated sugar

juice from 2 lemons

zest from 2 lemons

2 vanilla beans, split lengthwise

1/4 C water

Place all of the ingredients - except the juice from 1 of the lemons - in a large flat-bottom pan. Bring it to a boil. Reduce heat and simmer until the pears are tender, approximately 15 minutes. Mash the fruit with a potato masher as the pears soften. Keep simmering until the liquid has thickened to the point where a path remains if you drag a spoon through the center. Stir in the last of the lemon juice. Remove the vanilla pod.

Place the jam in sterilized jars, leaving about a 1/2" gap to the top. Gently tap the bottom of each jar on the counter to release any air bubbles. Using a damp clean towel, wipe the rims of the jars and secure the lids and rings. Process in a water bath for 10-15 minutes. Remove the containers with tongs and let cool on the counter.

You’ll hear the sound of tops popping shortly—a sign that a secure seal has been made. Or, you can refrigerate the jar without processing and use it within three weeks.

For a playful appetizer, I layered Prosciutto di Parma with creamy burrata on crisped slices of bread and spooned a dollop of bartlett-vanilla bean jam on top. Fantastic!

There you have it: I find this book to be pure inspiration. And though my review is done, I will still be cooking out of this gorgeous volume. I'm looking forward to trying her Tangy Vanilla Bean Panna Cotta and will certainly be toasting with a Vanilla Martini at some time in the near future.

If you want to learn more about vanilla and get inspired in the kitchen, check out Shauna Sever's Pure Vanilla. It's truly delicious!