Food, Wine and Travel ... With Recipes: TableConversation.com

Hail to the Mushroom King

My mushroom repertoire has been pretty limited. Mostly ordinary button mushrooms and, occasionally, dried shiitakes for Asian dishes.

It would have stayed that way, if I hadn’t met up with king trumpet—not a jazz musician but a meaty cultivated wild mushroom from Japan.

Tall and thick, with a small cap, king trumpet does what buttons don’t. It holds its shape when cooked. Buttons turn dark, thin and flabby and send out a lot of liquid. This is not a complaint. I love their flavor. But I like the way king trumpets retain their texture. And they don’t discolor a sauce because they are pale and don’t weep.

King trumpets are here now, along with three comrades—white and brown beech,which look like clusters of round buttons, and meaty, brown, flat-topped maitake.By next year, they’ll be around in massive abundance.

Hokto Kinoko Corporation, Japan’s largest mushroom  producer, is joining with specialty mushroom producer Golden Gourmet Mushrooms to build a plant in northern San Diego County. Scheduled to be completed by the end of Decmeber, this facility will yield an amazing six million pounds annually of the four mushrooms.

Perhaps this new source will help Americans catch up with the Japanese, who consume 26 pounds of mushrooms per person a year. We are way back in that race with only four pounds annual consumption.

A tasting at One Sunset on the Sunset Strip in Los Angeles introduced such dishes as new style sushi, a roll of tuna, beech mushrooms and shiso wrapped in thin cut beef, and a cute parchment box that contained what looked like paella without the rice—shrimp, mussels, Spanish chorizo and king trumpets.

These are chef dishes, more complicated than most people could, or would, make. A simple mushroom sauce is more my speed. Specifically, chicken breasts with a creamy, wine-flavored sauce that incorporates sliced king trumpets.

The recipe isn’t mine—I borrowed it from a friend, Barbara Swain, whose cookbook, “Intimate Dining,” is one of my staples. In that book, she suggests mushrooms as an alternative to grapes for chicken Veronique.

Good idea. And I lavishly upped the amount of king trumpets, like showering attention on a new friend. No problem with putting in so many. The flavor is delicate. And the dish is not only delicious but super easy to make.

CHICKEN WITH KING TRUMPET SAUCE
Based on a recipe in “Intimate Dining: Memorable Meals for Two” by Barbara Swain (Fisher Books)

2 half chicken breasts, skinned and boned
½ to 1 cup sliced king trumpet mushrooms
2 tablespoons butter, clarified preferred
2 tablespoons dry white wine, dry vermouth or dry sherry
1/4 to ½ teaspoon dried leaf tarragon
¼ teaspoon salt
¼ to ½ cup whipping cream

Rinse the chicken breasts and pat dry with paper towels. Slice the mushrooms crosswise and set aside.

Heat a medium skillet over medium heat.  Add the butter and swirl to melt and coat evenly. Add the mushrooms and sauté until slightly softened, about 2 minutes.

Place the chicken breasts in the pan and sauté until lightly browned on each side, turning once, about 8 minutes.

Add the wine, tarragon and salt. Cover and simmer slowly 5 minutes. To test doneness, press a finger into the thickest part of the chicken breast. The meat should spring back. Do not overcook.

Place the chicken breasts on a plate and keep warm by covering with the skillet lid.

Quickly boil the pan juices until syrupy. Add the cream and boil until lightly thickened, 2 to 3 minutes. Stir in any juices that have drained from the chicken. Arrange on 2 plates and spoon the sauce over.

Makes 2 servings.

A Curry from Buenos Aires

You never know what will turn up in the book shops along Avenida Corrientes in Buenos Aires. Besides the new books, there are old, out of print books, used books and overstocks that failed to find buyers.

On this last trip I turned up a real prize, “Los Platos de Mi Mesa” (“Dishes from my Table”) by a restaurateur of the past, Roberto Fernandez Beyro.

In addition to owning a popular restaurant in Buenos Aires called Monty’s, now long gone, Fernandez Beyro had managed the kitchens of the exclusive Jockey Club and Plaza Hotel and for a time had a restaurant in Rio de Janeiro.

Writing more than 20 years ago, he lamented the lack of gastronomic culture in Argentina, where traditional dishes inherited from Spain and enriched with contributions from other South American countries and the Caribbean were “deformed,” and attempts at creativity produced “absurd mixtures.”

His antidote was this book of simple, well thought out recipes, mostly continental, but also traditional and international.

I tried his curry de pollo (chicken curry) and found it delightful, even elegant. Showing a restrained continental approach, it's more like braised chicken and vegetables seasoned with curry powder than a spicy Indian dish.

Fernandez Beyro served the curry with rice timbales on what must have been lovely occasions. There would have been wine too, because he was an admirer of the wines produced in Argentina.

My accompaniments were basmati rice seasoned with a yellow condiment for rice that I bought in a supermarket in Buenos Aires; a fruity chutney and a red wine, as Fernandez Beyro recommended reds with chicken.

On the basis of just this dish, I can say that my 10 pesos (about $3) were well spent.

CURRY DE POLLO
Adapted from “Los Platos de Mi Mesa” by Roberto Fernandez Beyro (Emece Editores; 1986)

2 pounds chicken pieces, such as legs and thighs
Salt
1 onion, finely chopped
2 small stalks celery, chopped
1 ½ carrots, cut into small dice
1 small apple, peeled and chopped
1 small yellow chile or other chile, seeded and chopped
1 tablespoon curry powder
2 tablespoons olive oil
1 tablespoon flour
Black pepper
¼ cup whipping cream

Trim the chicken pieces of skin and excess fat. Place in a Dutch oven. Cover with water and add salt to taste. Bring to a boil, cover and simmer until tender, about 45 minutes. Let cool in the broth, then remove the chicken pieces and tear off the meat, discarding the bones. Drain the broth and reserve.

Meanwhile, prepare the onion, celery, carrots, apple and chile and set aside. Blend the curry powder with 3 tablespoons of the reserved broth after it has cooled.

Heat the olive oil in the cleaned Dutch oven. Add the vegetables, apple and chile and cook until reduced and very tender, 20 to 25 minutes, stirring occasionally to keep from burning.

Add the flour, 1 cup of the reserved broth and the curry powder mixture. Blend well. Add the chicken pieces and gently combine. Add salt and pepper to taste. Cover and simmer gently 10 minutes. When ready to serve, stir in the cream and heat through.

If the curry should thicken too much, stir in some of the reserved broth. Use the remainder to cook rice to go with the curry. 

Makes 4 servings.

Easy Indonesian Chicken

Here’s the perfect party dish. You put it together the day before, bake it an hour before the guests arrive, then show off gorgeous, glistening, exotic chicken.   

All you have to do is put chicken pieces to soak in soy sauce, garlic, ginger, wine and a dash of oil. Not just any soy sauce. It has to be Indonesian kecap (pronounced ketjap).

Thick, dark and sweet, with a hint of molasses, kecap imparts mellow flavor and beautiful deep color. It’s available in most large Asian groceries.

In Indonesia, this chicken would be barbecued. A friend who lived in central Java adapted it to western ovens and gave me the recipe.  The photo shows it with Indonesian yellow rice and a cucumber relish.

MARION’S JAVANESE ROAST CHICKEN

4 whole chicken legs or 1 (3½-pound) chicken, halved or quartered
1/3 cup kecap (Indonesian soy sauce)
2 large cloves garlic, minced
1½ inches gingerroot, peeled and grated or minced
3 tablespoons white wine or sherry
1 tablespoon oil

Trim excess fat and skin from the chicken. Place the chicken in a refrigerator container with a tight-fitting lid.

Mix the kecap, garlic, ginger, wine and oil in a small bowl. Pour it over the chicken and turn to coat well. Cover and refrigerate overnight. If the lid fits tightly, invert the container occasionally to coat all sides of the chicken. Or remove the lid and turn the pieces.

Place the container at room temperature for 1 hour before cooking. Preheat the oven to 350 degrees.

Spray a 13x9-inch baking pan with non-stick cooking spray. Or line with foil and spray the foil. Place the chicken skin side up in the pan. Pour any marinade in the storage container over the chicken. Bake 1 hour. Baste two or three times during the last 30 minutes.

Remove the chicken from the pan and let stand briefly before serving. If using halved or quartered chicken, cut it into serving-sized pieces.

Makes 4 servings.

A Craving for Kimchi

Talk about consuming passions. No, not the usual man-woman thing, but a deliciously spicy passion, an intense addiction, an ecstatic love gratified morning, noon and night with—kimchi.

I’ve not met anyone with more devotion to this fiery hot, garlicky Korean pickle than my friend Clark Akers. Not even the Koreans I know speak of it with such awe.

Clark always had kimchi on hand at home. He would eat it for breakfast with bacon and eggs, at lunch with a sandwich or soup and at dinner instead of a salad. He adored it so much that I think he would have eaten it even with apple pie.

When we would meet for lunch in Koreatown, Clark would demolish all the kimchi that came with the banchan, ask for more, then order more to go. One of the highlights of his life was when a Korean friend brought him a jar of his mother’s homemade kimchi.

Clark has now moved on to other realms where, I hope, the kimchi is as heavenly as he deserves. I never eat Korean food without thinking of him, and I prize the one tangible memento that I have—his recipe for kimchi soup. Clark brought me a taste one day, and it was as good as he claimed. Luckily, I asked for the recipe.

Here it is, in memory of my friend, Clark Edgar Akers.

CLARK'S KIMCHI SOUP

1 quart water
1 carrot
1 stalk celery
½ small red bell pepper
2 to 3 green onions, including some of the tops, thinly sliced
1 slice bacon, cut in bite-size pieces
2 tablespoons frozen green peas
2 mushrooms (any type), sliced
1 beef bouillon cube
1 (3-ounce) package ramen noodle soup with seasoning packet
1 1/3 cups cabbage kimchi, cut in short lengths if in long pieces

Place the water in a large saucepan and set aside.

Cut the carrot in half lengthwise, then crosswise in ¼-inch slices. Cut the celery stalk in half lengthwise, then crosswise in ¼-inch slices. Quarter the bell pepper lengthwise, then cut crosswise in ¼-inch slices.

Add the carrot, celery, green onions and bacon to the saucepan of water. Bring to a boil, then boil gently, uncovered, 15 minutes.

Add the bell pepper, peas, mushrooms, the bouillon cube, the  ramen noodles and their seasoning.  Cook 3 to 4 minutes.

Add the kimchi and cook until heated through, about 2 minutes.

Makes 4 side dish servings or 3 servings as a main dish.

Feasting on Kalbi Chim

Getting invited to a home-cooked Korean dinner is a rare honor any time. But this night, the main dish was to be one of my favorites--kalbi chim, a succulent, slightly sweet and irresistibly good dish of braised beef ribs.

My friend Sejung Kim had offered to cook. Knowing how much I like kalbi chim, she had consulted with Seong Yeon, a friend in Seattle who is expert at this dish.

The ribs, rice and a salad would have been enough, considering that it takes three days to make kalbi chim properly. But no. Sejung cooked everything else she could think of to make an extraordinary Korean meal.

The food was beautiful, like art work. Just one example—kamja bokkeum, strands of potato and bell peppers woven into an artful design.

We started with a soup. toenjang jjigae, based on a delicate broth made from anchovies and kelp. Into this, Sejung had put cubes of beef and potato, tofu, zucchini, shiitake mushrooms and onions. And of course toenjang, which  is fermented soy bean sauce--Korean miso.

Most Korean restaurants serve marinated bean sprouts, sukju namul, and Sejung had made them too, seasoning the blanched sprouts with rice vinegar, sugar and sesame seeds.

We also ate dried young fern shoots (kosari) in an appetizing blend of soy sauce, sesame oil, sesame seeds and green onions—basic seasonings for much Korean food.

There were sliced Persian cucumbers marinated with spicy red pepper paste (kochujang), garlic and sugar. And white kimchi, mild and delicate rather than spicy with red pepper.

Plain rice would have been fine, but Sejung had made an ornate dish of short grained white rice combined with both sweet and regular brown rices and black beans.  This is called kongbap, kong meaning beans and bap cooked rice.

The vegetable dishes may sound simple, but some of them required hours of preparation. The kosari for example, had to be soaked, rinsed, boiled, soaked again, then sautéed.

The highlight, of course, was the kalbi chim (sometimes the dish is spelled kalbi jim,  kalbi tchim or galbi jjim), ornamented with Asian red dates and chestnuts, and sprinkled with  pine nuts and hairlike strands of dried red chile, called silgochu. 

In Korean restaurants, I usually drink Korean beer, but Sejung likes Sangiovese or Shiraz with Korean food, and by chance I had brought along a Mosby Sangiovese 2004.

We finished with fruit, a pretty dish of white nectarines in syrup flavored with white Zinfandel.

The following weekend, with the taste of kalbi chim still fresh in my mind, I went to a Korean market, bought the ingredients and started the three days of preparation.

The results were sumptuous. The procedure isn’t as difficult as it sounds. Much of the time is devoted to marinating the meat to concentrate the rich flavor. 

I’m not the only one who thinks that kalbi chim  is a wonderful dish.  In his column The Minimalist in the New York Times Dining In section (February 13, 2008), Mark Bittman  ranked  French style braised short ribs and “the standard Korean kalbi jim”  as “stunning classics.”

The kalbi chim that Sejung makes is far from “standard” though.  Its intricate flavors and painstaking preparation place it on a level that, as far as I’m concerned, is in the stratosphere.

SEJUNG’S KALBI CHIM

4 pounds kalbi  (beef ribs, labeled big beef ribs in the Korean market where I shopped), cut in short lengths
½ cup grated Asian pear
¼ cup sake
3 tablespoons sugar
½ cup soy sauce
½ medium onion, finely chopped
2 tablespoons minced green onion
2 tablespoons minced garlic
2 teaspoons sesame oil
2 teaspoons sesame seeds
½ cup water
1 inch ginger root, peeled and cut in thin slices
15 jujubes (Asian dried red dates)
15 fresh or dried chestnuts, optional,
1 tablespoon pine nuts
Fine dried red chile strands (ask for silgochu in a Korean market), optional 

Start the preparation 2 days before serving. On the first day, place the ribs in a large bowl or dishpan and cover with cold water. Let stand 2 hours.

Drain the ribs, rinse and pat dry with paper towels. Place them in a container with a lid. Grind the pear in a food processor or blender. Combine the pear, sake and sugar with the meat and mix well. Cover and marinate in the refrigerator 1 hour.

Combine the soy sauce, onion, green onion, garlic, sesame oil and sesame seeds in a food processor or blender and process until pureed. Add to the meat. Mix well. Cover and refrigerate overnight.

The next day, place the meat in a Dutch oven. Add ½ cup water, cover and bring to a boil. Add the ginger root slices. Reduce the heat, cover and cook over medium low heat 3 hours.

Meanwhile, soak the dates until softened enough to slit them and pry out the seeds. After 2 hours, add the seeded dates and the dried chestnuts, if using, and cook 1 hour longer.

Let the meat cool. If any bones have separated from the meat, remove them and discard. Return the meat and cooking juices to the washed storage container. Cover and refrigerate overnight.

The next day, remove as much of the congealed fat from the meat as possible. Turn into a Dutch oven and reheat to serving temperature.  Transfer the meat and juices to a large heated serving container. Sprinkle with pine nuts, and with dried red chile strands if you are bold.

Makes 4 to 5 servings.

Really Good Chicken Enchiladas

The best Mexican food isn’t always in Mexico, but the good dishes that turn up here are usually just a step away from their place of origin.

And so it was with the chicken enchiladas that I came across recently at Miracle Springs Resort & Spa in Desert Hot Springs.

They were a special for lunch the day that I arrived for a short vacation, and because I adore Mexican food, I had to find out their origin and get the recipe.

The person responsible did indeed come from Mexico.  Cecilia Ortega, who is a sous chef at the resort, grew up in Acatlan de Osorio in the state of Puebla, Mexico. And she certainly knows how to deal with chiles.

Her sauce is simple and straightforward, just dried red chiles soaked until soft, then pureed with onion, garlic and oregano. The filling is shredded chicken, mixed with a little of the sauce. The remainder goes over the top along with plenty of cheese and a scattering of sliced olives and green onions.

The recipe is long, but not difficult. The best procedure is to make the sauce one day, then cook the chicken and assemble and bake the enchiladas the next day. I’ve broken the recipe down into stages to make it easier to follow.

The California chiles that Cecilia uses are mild, so if you want a spicy dish, try blending a jalapeno chile with the sauce. Cecilia serves the enchiladas with beans and rice. Or you can lighten up as I did by substituting a lettuce and avocado salad for the heftier accompaniments.

CECILIA’S CHICKEN ENCHILADAS

12 dried California chiles (about 3 ounces)
¾ onion
3 cloves garlic
½ teaspoon oregano
7 1/2 cups water, about
½ cup plus 1 tablespoon oil
1 tablespoon flour
1 ½ teaspoons salt or to taste
4 bone-in chicken thighs (about 1 ¼ pounds)
6 black peppercorns
8 corn tortillas
2 cups shredded Cheddar cheese
2 large green onions, including some of the tops, chopped
¼ cup drained canned sliced ripe olives

The Sauce:

Place the chiles in a deep saucepan and add water to cover. Bring to a boil. Press the chiles to submerge in the water. Turn off the heat and let them stand until softened, about 20 minutes. Drain

Remove the stems from the chiles and rinse out the seeds. Place the chiles in a blender container or food processor. Add 1/2 onion, cut in chunks; 2 cloves garlic, the oregano and 1 cup water. Blend until thoroughly pureed.

Place a sieve over a large bowl and pour the pureed mixture into the sieve, about 1/3 at a time. Press to extract the chile mixture and eliminate the skins. Rinse out what remains in the blender with another 1 cup water and put through the sieve.

Heat 1 tablespoon oil in a large saucepan. Stir in the flour and cook, stirring, 30 seconds. Add the chile sauce and bring to a boil. Rinse out the chile sauce container with a little more water and add to the pan with 1 teaspoon salt. Bring to a boil, reduce the heat and simmer, uncovered, stirring occasionally, 10 minutes. The sauce can be made in advance to this point and set aside for later or refrigerated overnight.

The Chicken:

Remove the skin from the chicken thighs. Place in a deep saucepan and add 5 cups water, ¼ onion in one piece, 1 clove garlic, ½ teaspoon salt and the peppercorns.  Bring to a boil and skim. Reduce the heat and simmer, loosely covered, for 1 hour.

Drain the chicken and reserve the broth for another use. With 2 forks, shred the chicken and discard the bones. There should be at least 2 cups. Stir 1/4 cup of the chile sauce into the shredded chicken and set aside.

Enchilada Assembly:

Preheat the oven to 350 degrees.

Heat ½ cup oil in a small skillet. Add 1 tortilla and fry just until softened. Drain on paper towels. Repeat with the remaining tortillas.

Place 1/8 of the chicken mixture (about ¼ cup) on each tortilla. Roll and place seam side down in a 10x6 glass baking dish or other oblong baking dish.

When all the enchiladas are assembled, cover with the sauce, then with the Cheddar cheese. Sprinkle with the green onions and sliced olives.

Cover the dish with foil and bake at 350 degrees until heated through, 45 to 50 minutes. Uncover and let stand a few minutes before serving.

Makes 8 enchiladas or 4 servings.

Dangerously Good Cookies

I always thought that chocolate chip cookies were as American as apple pie. But Naomi Stokes’ recipe came from England. And, what do you know, apple pie originated there too, in the 15th century.

I don’t just say that. You can read the pie’s history in "The Oxford Companion to American Food and Drink," edited by Andrew F. Smith (Oxford University Press, 2007; $49.95).

America’s beloved chocolate chip cookie appeared in the 1930s, when Ruth Wakefield of the Toll House Inn in Whitman, Massachusetts, produced her now famous Toll House cookies.

Naomi’s recipe is similar to Wakefield’s, but with key differences that alter the flavor. It employs only dark brown sugar and no nuts, whereas the Toll House recipe calls for half granulated and half brown (presumably golden brown) sugar and contains nuts as well as chocolate chips.

Born in Saltburn-by-the-Sea on the northern coast of Yorkshire, England,  Naomi loved to bake cookies as a little girl. If alive today, she would be 112.

Fortunately, she gave her recipe to her grandson, Nigel Gainor, who is executive chef at Miracle Springs Resort & Spa in Desert Hot Springs, where I spent a few relaxing days.

The cookies turned up on a dessert plate, and I was impressed.  They are small, rich with butter, thin and slightly crisp rather than thick and chewy.

After stirring in the chocolate chips, Gainor sometimes adds chopped walnuts or pecans and perhaps finely diced dried apricots too. “Whatever you like, give it a try and it just may turn out to be a family favorite,” he says. 

He shapes the cookies with a ½-ounce scoop or rolls the sticky dough into slim logs, chills them, then cuts the logs into ½-inch slices. “This gives you a nice look. You can see the chocolate chips and the other ingredients because they are not covered with dough,” he says.

“If you want the cookies soft and gooey you must not over cook them,” he notes. “If your oven is hot, you may need to turn it down to 325 or bake for 7 minutes. If you want drier or hard cookies, bake them 10 to 11 minutes. Either way they taste great, but my favorite is soft and gooey.”

I’ve cut Naomi’s recipe in half, and it still makes more than three dozen. The cookies are dangerously good.  Had I made the entire amount, I would now be on a diet.

NAOMI’S CHOCOLATE CHIP COOKIES

½ cup (1 stick) butter, softened
1 cup dark brown sugar, packed
1 ½ teaspoons vanilla
1 egg
1 cup plus 2 tablespoons flour
½ teaspoon baking soda
¼ teaspoon salt
1 cup chocolate chips

Beat the butter until smooth. Add the sugar and work into the butter until thoroughly blended. Add the vanilla, then beat in the egg.

Place the flour in a small bowl. Add the baking soda and salt and stir to blend. Add the flour mixture to the butter mixture and stir. Add the chocolate chips and combine well.

Place half the mixture on a sheet of wax paper or plastic wrap and form into a 1-inch-thick roll. Wrap well. Repeat with the remaining half of the dough. Place the two wrapped rolls in a plastic bag and refrigerate several hours or overnight, until firm.

Preheat the oven to 350 degrees. Grease 1 or 2 large baking sheets.

Working with one roll of dough at a time, cut into ½-inch slices. The mixture will be very sticky and a bit hard to handle. Form each slice into a ball by rolling in the palms of your hands.

Place the balls of dough on the baking sheet or sheets, allowing plenty of room for them to spread. If using one sheet, remove the baked cookies to cooling racks and let the sheet cool. You will not need to grease it again.

Bake 8 to 9 minutes, then remove to racks. When the cookies are thoroughly cool, store them  in airtight containers.

Makes about 3 ½ dozen.

Jewish Cookies from Denmark

Jodekager, or Jewish cookies, are in my Aunt Helen's recipe file, and in almost every Danish cookbook that I have. They’re often listed under Christmas cookies, perhaps because they are crisp and buttery, like a good Scandinavian Christmas treat.

The recipes vary slightly.  Some call for hartshorn salt  (amonium carbonate) as a leavening.  Some flavor the cookies with lemon, vanilla or cardamom. I saw one recipe that included beer. My aunt put in akvavit, and when I was out of that, I substituted grappa.

Denmark’s small Jewish community dates back to the early 17th century. I don’t know how this cookie came to be linked to that group, or why it became a standard Danish recipe. But there’s no need to know all that. Just bake the cookies and enjoy.

AUNT HELEN’S JODEKAGER
(Jewish Cookies)

6 tablespoons butter
1/3 cup sugar
1 egg, separated
¾  teaspoon finely grated lemon zest 
1 cup flour
1/4 teaspoon baking soda
Dash salt
1 tablespoon akvavit or brandy
1 ½ teaspoons sugar mixed with ¼ teaspoon cinnamon
3 tablespoons blanched almonds, finely chopped

In a mixing bowl, cream the butter and sugar together thoroughly. Beat in the egg yolk and add the lemon zest. Combine the flour, baking soda and salt and sift into the mixture. Add the akvavit or brandy and stir until smooth.

Form the dough into an 8-inch long roll, wrap it in wax paper and chill a few hours or overnight until firm.

Preheat the oven to 350 degrees. Remove the roll from the refrigerator and cut it in half.  Slice each half into 15 cookies. Place the cookies on 2 lightly greased baking sheets, or bake half the cookies at a time, using a single sheet.

Beat the egg white until frothy. Brush each cookie with egg white. Sprinkle with some of the cinnamon-sugar mixture and top with chopped almonds. (You may have some egg white, nuts and cinnamon-sugar left over.)

Bake 9 to 10 minutes, until lightly browned. Watch carefully to avoid burning. Remove to racks to cool. Store in an airtight container.

Makes 2 ½ dozen small cookies.

See This and Change Your Life

“How to Cook Your Life,” a documentary based on cooking classes by Zen priest and chef Edward Espe Brown, will change the way you think about food—and life.

See it Nov. 16 at 7:30 p.m. at Laemmle Sunset 5, 8000 Sunset Blvd., Los Angeles.

Brown is author of "The Tassajara Bread Book," "Tomato Blessings and Radish Teachings" and co-author of "The Greens Cook Book." He will take part in a question and answer session following the screening, which is supported by Slow Food LA and Silk Roads Gallery.

For advance ticket sales for the screening and post-screening discussion, go to http://www.brownpapertickets.com/event/23866. For further information, go to www.silkroadsgallery.com. Laemmle screening and ticket information is available at www.laemmle.com/viewmovie.php?mid=3391.

Tomato Hysteria in South India

I have seen tomatoes cause a fit of hysterics. And they were perfectly good tomatoes. As a matter of fact, wonderful tomatoes.

This happened in southern India, near Bangalore. It was breakfast time at  AyurvedaGram, the ayurvedic spa where I was staying. Most of us ate from the general buffet, a lavish spread of light vegetarian dishes. But some were on special diets related to the health issue that had brought them to the spa.

Across from me sat a beautiful young Indian woman, a banker from London with a handsome boyfriend, who called in at the spa occasionally.

She was on a diet, for weight loss I imagine. And she had been placed on an all-tomato regimen. This day, they had brought her the wrong tomatoes—either broiled when they should have been raw, or raw when they should have been broiled, I’m not sure. But the outburst was extraordinary.

It’s not that she was a nasty person, just that food has strong emotional components.that can be overwhelming, especially the lack of food considered vital to a desired goal.

At any rate, the meals at the spa were so good that I arranged an interview with the chef to get recipes. One of them was for a tomato curry that sounds almost too simple, but when I served it to guests, they wanted more and more.

If this curry had been presented to the young banker, perhaps she would have had a better day, and the rest of us would not have been startled out of our morning fog.

AYURVEDAGRAM TOMATO CURRY

1 tablespoon plus 1 teaspoon oil
½ pound onions, finely chopped (1 ½ cups)
1 large clove garlic, minced
1 ¼ pounds roma or other small tomatoes, peeled and chopped
¼ teaspoon cumin seeds
1 ½ teaspoons minced ginger root
½ teaspoon salt, or to taste
Chopped cilantro

Heat 1 tablespoon oil in a large saucepan. Add the onions and garlic and cook until tender, 8 to 10 minutes.  Add the tomatoes and cook, uncovered, 15 to 20 minutes, or until softened.

Meanwhile, heat the remaining 1 teaspoon oil in a small skillet. Add the cumin seeds and cook until a deep brown.

When the tomatoes are soft, add the cumin seeds and oil, the ginger root and salt, and simmer, uncovered, 5 minutes longer. Turn into a serving bowl and garnish with chopped cilantro.

Makes  2 cups, or 4 side dish servings. Double the recipe to make 6 larger servings, increasing the cooking times slightly if necessary.