Eliot's Amatriciana with Bacon and Cream

The Magicians is back on SyFy y'all! And I'm mostly happy about that. So in honor of Season 2, I've re-read book one in the trilogy, finished watching Season 1, and made a dish that was one of the catalysts for starting this blog.

The Book

Lev Grossman's The Magicians is often described as a grown-up Harry Potter, with a strong dose of Narnia thrown in. It's true, there is a school of magic and a big bad, a fantasy land from childhood stories that turns out to be real, and a bunch of young adults figuring out life against this backdrop. But The Magicians is so much more--it's an exploration of what it means to get what you've always wanted, the life you always thought SHOULD be yours but somehow wasn't, and what that does to your head when it's still not enough to make you happy.  The basic premise: magic is real, and there are colleges all around the world that take in those most suited to the academic discipline and rigor required to learn it. Quentin Coldwater, a dissatisfied, mildly clinically depressed, and intellectually gifted high school senior thinks he's on his way to an admissions interview with a Princeton alumnus. Instead, he and his best friend James find the old man dead, and the strange paramedic who arrives hands them each an envelope that changes everything. Quentin finds himself transported to Brakebills College for Magical Pedagogy, and after an intense entrance exam comes to understand that what he secretly longed for his entire life (magic is REAL) is now his. See, in his heart of hearts, Quentin never stopped believing in the possibility that he might someday get his Hogwarts letter, or find the door in the wardrobe, or enter the world in the walls, this universe's Narnia analog, Fillory.

Reviewing this without spoiling either the books or the show is really challenging. I guess I will start by going on record as something of a purist when it comes to page-to screen translations (ask anyone who's had to sit next to me during any of the Harry Potter movies), but I also can admit when the screen does it better. There are plenty of examples--Jaws and Jurassic Park both were better in movie form, most anything adapted from a Phillip K Dick short story is a better, if somewhat cheesier, experience on screen. But The Magicians has some fundamental problems that are hard for me to accept. There are a lot of changes to characters for the sake of sexing things up. I actually loved that a lot of the sexuality in the novels is kind of awkward and somewhat dysfunctional. That's a realistic portrayal of college life. Instead, many of the characters have been made over into super hot, super confident, and very well dressed babes. Not inherently bad as there is still substance to the story, but it does impact character development in some major ways.

The two main issues I have with the show are its handling of a certain "romantic" entanglement that leads to major, major consequences, and it's treatment of a secondary character in book one, Julia.  In The Magicians, Julia also took the Brakebills entrance exam, but didn't pass. The protocol for students who fail is a memory wipe. In Julia's case, it doesn't completely take, and that causes a rift in her consciousness where the false memories are constantly arguing with the real ones and slowly breaking her mind.  In book two, The Magician King, the parallel stories of main character Quentin's present, and Julia's past, take the story in an even darker direction, as we follow Julia's path from Brakebills reject to a powerful "hedge witch". Her magic is hard won in the underground safe houses filled with people like her, who know magic is real but for various reasons have been denied access to its official institutions. This also makes her magic wild, rough around the edges, unrefined, and therefore extremely powerful. TV Julia was Quentin's best friend since childhood, Book Julia, on the other hand, is Quentin's unrequited crush, and his best friend James' girlfriend. This makes book Julia's search for Quentin, to force someone to admit to her she's not crazy, much more intense and poignant. And her journey after she gets that proof is much more drawn out, and ultimately more satisfying and intense. TV Julia figures out pretty fast how to find Quentin, and how to find other people like her. She falls in with a rebellious crowd led by a caricature of a villain who was not in the books, and although after her adventures with that crew there are some parallels with her book-self, her character's arc lacks the emotional punch of the written version. Emotional punch is what's lacking with the romantic entanglement as well--in the show, the reasons for bad behavior are far more excusable so the emotional betrayal is not as believable.

All in all, the show is still entertaining and Hale Appleman as Quentin's snarky, wine swilling, somewhat trampy new friend and ultimately roommate, is absolutely perfectly cast and one of the highlights of the show.

Significant Moment in Food

"Dinner's almost ready," the girl said. "Eliot's made an amatriciana sauce. We couldn't get any guanciale, but I think bacon works fine. Don't you?"

When Quentin and Alice first enter the cottage of the Physical Kids--that is, the students whose magical discipline is physical magic--Quentin finally thinks he's made it. There are books and wine everywhere, artifacts and curios scattered around, and a casually elegant vibe throughout the space. The three other occupants, Eliot, Janet (Margot on TV), and Josh, have that tight-knit insider, gossipy friendship that Quentin craves. Quentin feels that he has finally stepped into the empty place that's been waiting for him all these years. His old, false life is over.  "He was in the warm heart of the secret world", Grossman writes.  Quentin and Alice have essentially walked in to an adult dinner party and the choice of amatriciana, which is simple, classic, yet luxurious and sophisticated, is a specific prop to further illustrate this graduation into the next phase.

The Recipe

Amatriciana is a classic Italian sauce based on three key components--salty, fatty guanciale (cured pork cheek), acidic tomatoes, and sharp pecorino cheese.  It hails from an area east of Rome called Amatrice, and like most of the old Italian recipes, it is a simple preparation focused on specific quality ingredients and how they interact with each other. The preferred pasta seems to be bucatini, but spaghetti is often substituted. Like many old, regional recipes, there are numerous variations and plenty of things done in one locality that are unacceptable in others. Other optional ingredients are hot chili peppers, parsley, white wine, and onions.

To break it down and make it as Eliot did, I had to take some guesses. We know he used bacon instead of the traditional guanciale, and not much else. For that reason, I stuck to the basics repeated in each recipe I reviewed. Bacon, diced and sauteed to render the fat; garlic; and peeled tomatoes you crush by hand into the pan.  Eliot DOES add wine to the pan, however, the scene in the book mentions several bottles of red wine empty on the floor,  and Janet pours out the last of it for Quentin and Alice. All the recipes I found that used wine used a dry white. I used red and followed Eliot's advice "Never cook with a wine you wouldn't drink".  I used something far less classy but certainly drinkable, that's right--BOTA BOX (don't judge me). And lastly, Eliot adds a generous glug of cream to the sauce. In my research I didn't come across a single recipe that took this step, but I'm making Eliot's Amatriciana, so I went with it.  I cheated further by using turkey bacon. This is not for health reasons but rather that my husband absolutely loathes pork bacon, and the smell alone makes him sick.  I still nurse some random vegetarian proclivities and can't really bring myself to eat pork most of the time. I have tried many brands of turkey bacon and for fattiness/crispiness I prefer Butterball. You need fatty richness, acidic tomato, and sharp pungent cheese to really get to the heart of amatriciana.

Ingredients

12 oz bacon, diced (your choice of cured plant or animal)
28 oz peeled plum tomatoes, preferably imported Italian
3 cloves garlic, smashed whole
1-2 tablespoons olive oil
Pecorino Romano cheese--1 oz or more if you like it cheesy
A slosh of red wine
A generous glug of cream

It goes without saying that you should be boiling water and cooking your pasta of choice while preparing the sauce. Fresh, dried, whatever you want. I used plain old spaghetti.

Method

1. Heat olive oil in a large saucepan. Add bacon. Saute until much of the fat is rendered and bacon is lightly browned. Remove bacon and set aside, leaving most of the rendered fat in the pan.

 2. Add the garlic cloves. Add the bacon back to the pan. Slosh in your wine. I used about a quarter of a glass. Cook another minute.

3. Begin adding the tomatoes, crushing each one by hand into the pan. Allow it to simmer for about 10 minutes.

4. Add a glug of cream. I don't know what a glug is technically--in the book the sauce "thickened and paled", I probably added about 4 oz.

5. Add your cooked pasta to the pan and allow to finish cooking for another few minutes. Stir to coat each piece of pasta in the sauce.

6. Serve in bowls and top with as much pecorino as you can handle!













Delicioso! Smoky, sharp, tangy and creamy heaven. We ALL loved this dish and with one pound of pasta we had enough for dinner with seconds for 3 of us, plus lunch the next day.

I hope you enjoy!  Next up will be a guest post from my junior chef in training!

Credit and thanks to research sources Serious Eats, Mario Batali, Good Old Wikipedia, and the New York Times.

Peter's Mum's Sierra Leone Jollof Rice

If there is one clichéd narrative, done and redone, that I will never get sick of, it is the supernatural noir. Detectives tracking down spooky mysteries is almost always awesome, especially when the detectives themselves have magic and spells of their own in the arsenal. John Constantine, Kolshak the Night Stalker, Harry Dresden, Sam and Dean Winchester, Buffy, Hellboy, even the OGs of spooky mysteries, the Scooby kids and their Mystery Machine, are my NCIS and CSI and Law and Order.  The idea of a secret world only some can enter is always intriguing. Add in a physically hidden world beneath the modern one we live in, like Neil Gaiman's Neverwhere or China Mieville's Un Lun Dun, and you have the Rivers of London series.

The Book

Ben Aaronovitch's Rivers of London series manages to be a straight-forward, wisecracking, police procedural while simultaneously interweaving mythology, history, and straight up scary magic to create a rich supernatural universe. Peter Grant, a police officer just finishing his mandatory probationary period, is hoping for an exciting permanent assignment, maybe as a detective in the murder squad. . He and his colleague, Lesley May, are called to a crime scene, where Peter later finds himself taking a witness statement from a ghost. When he returns to the scene in hopes of finding out more from his deceased informant, a chance encounter changes his fate, from the data entry desk job he was to be assigned to the first apprentice magician London's seen in over 70 years.

The first novel, called Midnight Riot in the US, plunges Peter into the world of magical crime almost immediately. As soon as he accepts his position as apprentice to Detective Chief Inspector Thomas Nightingale, a man who clearly has secrets of his own, he is faced with real monsters, small gods, and a housekeeper who is not quite human. "Because I have to know", Peter tells Nightingale, explaining why he wants to take this position. Throughout the remainder of the series, Peter Grant remains someone who looks a little closer than most, who has a knack for finding out why. He is in many ways a normal twenty-something man, but he is also sensitive, compassionate, and something of a romantic.  He is, after all, the son of one of England's more famous jazz musicians, and his Sierra Leonean mother has retained a healthy belief in things slightly otherworldly after all these years.

The big bad of the series is a creature known as Mr. Punch, and I won't spoil much more than that, but expect some very gruesome scenes.  Luckily, Nightingale and Peter will find many allies in the other main characters, the Gods and Goddesses of London's Rivers. Mama and Father Thames, their many sons, daughters, tributaries, and hidden springs just being born, often give insight into hidden London and some forgotten history.  Peter is a perfect window for us into this world, being a modern citizen of London but at the same time one who values and respects the physical history all around him.

I absolutely MUST also recommend the audiobooks for this series.  The narrator, Kobna Holdbrook-Smith, has the most perfect voice imaginable for Peter, and does a great job with the numerous other characters. The audiobooks use a perfect jazz riff to take you in and out of chapters, an effect that's particularly awesome in the book I've linked to here, Moon over Soho, which centers around the mysterious deaths of local jazz musicians, both professional and amateur, and a woman who seems to be in the middle of it all.

Significant Moment in Food

"The motto of West African Cooking is that if the food doesn't set fire to the tablecloth the cook is being stingy with the pepper. Actually there's no such motto-from my mum's point of view it was simply inconceivable that anyone would want to eat anything that didn't burn the inside of your mouth out."

Peter Grant, as I said, is one one level your average young Londoner. Likes Dr. Who, pints at the pub, football. But Mrs. Grant, Peter's mother, is from Sierra Leone, and is part of a huge network of fellow West African expats.  One of Peter's home cooked standards is jelof rice, always on the stove at his parent's place, or tucked away in the fridge, and her home cooking becomes those coveted leftovers you get sent home with and your roommates try to steal.  Sierra Leonean food is mentioned prominently in every book, because this, too, is part of Peter's identity, part of his family, and they are also part of the story.

It seems like almost every culture has a basic rice dish meant to accompany all kinds of mains or stand on it's own with the addition of some heartier ingredients. Jelof or jollof rice is thought to originate with the Wolof people in Senegal, the Gambia, and Mauritania, sometimes spelled as Jolof. In the Wolof language the dish is called Benachin, which means "one pot".  Over time, the dish dispersed throughout West Africa where it became known by the name of those who created it.  Researching the recipe, I found that every West African country has an individual spin on it and that there is serious controversy over who made it first, who makes it best..  In that spirit, I reviewed many recipes and took what I thought would work best while making sure I included the most important parts that almost every recipe specified.

The Recipe

Recipe adapted from multiple sources. Many recipes cooked the meat and the rice all in one pan, but in the Rivers of London the rice is a standalone dish. I opted to make stewed chicken on the side. Some recipes included beef, one even added mixed frozen vegetables at the end, but as I truly hate those little cubes of frozen carrot, I passed on that. If there's anyone out there with West African roots or experience, please feel free to school me on what I may have done wrong.

Note: The stewed chicken and the rice really will be cooking at the same time. You need to use the pan the
chicken browns in to complete the rice. Work that out however makes sense, I will explain how I did it below. I suggest reading through this before  you start cooking so you get the timing right!

Ingredients:

Chicken drumsticks or thighs, 6-8 pieces
1/4 cup vegetable oil (many recipes said peanut, I used coconut just because I had it on hand)
2 medium or one large onion, sliced
2 large red bell peppers, diced or sliced into strips
2 or more Scotch bonnet or habanero peppers--depends on how spicy you want it!
3 cups long grain rice such as Basmati
1 cup chicken or vegetable stock
4 cups of water or stock
1 bunch spring onions, chopped
4 cloves garlic, minced
1 tablespoon minced ginger
1/4 cup tomato paste
14 oz chopped tomatoes
Salt and pepper to taste

Method:

For the Stewed Chicken:
In a large skillet, heat all the oil over medium high.
While that's heating, season the chicken.  Very few recipes were specific about this--I used my basic trio of salt, pepper, and paprika.
Brown the chicken on both sides, approximately 5 minutes per side. Skin should be brown and somewhat crisp but don't cook the chicken through. Remove it from the pan and set aside.
Pour out about half of the remaining oil and return the pan to the burner.

Heat the stock in a large pot at the same time you're browning the chicken..
Once it's simmering, add the sliced bell peppers and half the sliced onion to the pot.  Add the 14 oz chopped tomatoes.  Let it all simmer for about 10 minutes and add the browned chicken.

While you're waiting for that to simmer, here are the two steps that EVERY recipe agreed on:

1. Wash the rice. Put all the rice in a colander and run it under cold water. Scoop up handfuls and kind of rub both hands together like you're cold and trying to warm up. It's hard to take a picture of yourself doing that but I think you get the idea.



2. Fry the tomato paste. The oil from browning the chicken should still
be hot because you returned the pan to the burner! Plop that 1/4 cup tomato paste in the pan and stir it around. It will get dark and fragrant.
Add the remaining sliced onions, minced ginger, and minced garlic to the pan and stir.

Hot pepper safety is no laughing matter.

When I was 18 and first lived on my own, I tried to make homemade Spanish rice using Scotch bonnet peppers. I thought washing my hands after would be enough. I  removed my contacts at the end of the night.....I was fine. UNTIL THE MORNING WHEN I PUT THEM BACK IN MY EYES. So now I practice hot pepper safety: Some recipes called for blending these peppers with some of the tomatoes. I decided to just dice them very finely rather than bust out another appliance.  Add them to the pan and stir.

Once the pan is sizzling again, add all the washed rice and stir. Get it nice and coated with the tomato paste.

Add the 4 cups of water and stir ONCE AND ONLY ONCE. Cover and leave it alone!
See  that magic? See those air bubbles between the grains? That's the way. Rice can be so hard to get right but over time I have gotten better and leaving it alone is the most important part. If you have your liquid proportioned correctly and the heat is not too high, you will end up with perfect, separate, tender grains of rice.

The chicken should be done stewing at the same time the rice is done. Stir in the spring onions and you're done.

The finished product! I am very happy to say this was a huge hit with both kid and adults. It probably could have been much hotter, but Seth, who typically puts sriracha on literally everything, felt no need to add even salt. There was heat from the peppers and the ginger, with a nice garlicky flavor. The tomato paste mellowed everything. The chicken was so flavorful and tender, it was the perfect thing to go with the rice.

I know this recipe sounds complicated, but all in all it took about an hour to prepare. I will definitely be making this one again and again.

Thanks for reading! Coming soon, the recipe that inspired me to start this blog, plus a holiday special.

Mrs. Palk's Smashing Saffron Cake with Lemonade

Once upon a time, a young boy turned 11, and on that day he discovered that he had a great and magical destiny, that he was destined to defeat the ultimate evil, and that he would have companions with roles of their own to play in the battle. No, I'm not talking about Harry Potter (though we can, any time!). I'm talking about someone who came a good 30 years earlier, young Will Stanton and his companions Jane, Simon, and Barnabas Drew. 

The Book

Susan Cooper's The Dark is Rising series is admittedly very similar to Harry Potter, but darker, and infused with Arthurian mythos. So it's no real surprise to anyone who knows me that I cherish these books beyond reason. Interestingly, the first book, Over Sea, Under Stone, doesn't include the "chosen one" of the series. Instead, we're introduced to Will's future mentor, Merriman Lyon, and his perfectly normal, non-magical human family, the London-based Drews.  It's pointed out he's not really a blood relative of the Drews, but has been a friend of Mr. Drew's for so long that the children call him Uncle Merry.  What starts out as a family holiday to Cornwall quickly turns in to much more than Simon, Jane, and Barney Drew bargained for.  You see, Great Uncle Merry (Gummery!) is part of an ancient race known as the Old Ones of the Light, and he is in Cornwall to find a powerful treasure that will aid in the battle against the Dark--that is, if the dark doesn't find it first.

The Drews are left out of the loop on most of this. They love and trust Merry, and are good at heart, so as things progress, they have an innate understanding that they must do what is asked to help these forces that must remain mysterious to them. As the series continues, Will is introduced and fully inducted into his place as the last born Old One, and he and the Drews, along with Bran Davies, a Welsh boy with a mysterious past, join forces to face the full force of the Dark in a final battle for it all.

Over Sea, Under Stone, which is where this dish comes from, evokes a kind of childhood adventurousness that I am sure any fellow 70's born kid can relate to. If you watched The Goonies and dreamed of finding your own treasure map, or read books like The Black Cauldron and the Chronicles of Narnia, and wished Robin Hood and King Arthur could be proven real, this series will take you there again.  And to compare The Dark is Rising one more time to Harry Potter, the books age along with the children. A greater understanding of the world seeps in as the mortal children get older and experience some of the pain the Dark can bring on. Because much like Delores Umbridge's black heart made her an excellent tool for old Voldy, the Dark preys on those with anger, bitterness and hatred in their hearts, and uses them for their own ends.

Significant Moment in Food
"'Saffron cake', Mrs. Palk said proudly, 'you won't get that in London".

On a more cheerful note, Over Sea, Under Stone paints a vivid picture of life on the coast of Cornwall. The Cornish accent is written phonetically, so you can hear the musical dialect in your head.  Susan Cooper's vivid descriptions put you right there among the fishing boats, hopping along rocks at low tide, and exploring the home the Drews have rented, known locally as The Gray House. 

Early on in their stay, the children are trapped indoors by the rain.  Bored, the kids idly tease and taunt each other, gaze out the window and talk about sailing, then explorers, and then have the brilliant idea to explore the house and all it's hidden nooks. It's on this exploration adventure the Drew children make the discovery of a map, and find themselves part of Uncle Merry's mysterious treasure hunt.  Under strict orders not to touch anything personal that's been put away by the houses owner, they set out with a tea packed by the housekeeper, Mrs. Palk,

Mrs. Palk packs them "freshly baked scones cut in half, thickly buttered and put back together again, a packet of  squashed fly biscuits, 3 apples, and a great slab of dark, yellowy orange cake, thick and crumbling with fruit." She finishes it off with a big bottle of homemade lemonade. Hungry yet? I know I am. Every time I read this book, I picture those buttery scones, wonder what the hell squashed-fly biscuits are (a crunchy cookie with currants, #thanksGoogle), and fantasize about saffron cake.

Saffron cake is a Cornish specialty, something novel that the London-born Drews have never experienced. And it seems the very thing for energetic children, dusty and sweaty and tired in that way one can only get from a hard day of attic exploration and adventure in the sea air.  Cornwall was well known for tin mining, and it is believed that Phoenician sailors brought saffron to Cornwall to trade for tin. Like so many traditional foods, it seems this one was invented for the sake of frugality--eggs were very expensive, and an infusion of saffron was used in place of rich egg yolks to give this cake a yellow color.  However, I did find some articles stating that some areas of Britain were able to cultivate saffron, and that there were a few thriving farms, so perhaps that led to this becoming a common tea cake. Dried fruit obviously is cheaper and lasts longer than fresh. 

The Recipe

After reading many blogs and articles, I decided to use the BBC's posted recipe. I figured they've probably done even more research and testing than me. Also, it saves me the trouble of asking 20 strangers if I can use their recipe on this blog.   I actually divided the recipe and  made two loaves, because I'm gluten free but Seth and Dex are not. I used Bob's Red Mill 1 to 1 gluten free flour, so the recipe and measurements are exactly the same.

Here's the direct link to the recipe on the BBC's website.

Ingredients

1 tsp saffron strands
125ml/4½fl oz milk
500g/1lb 2oz plain flour, plus extra for dusting
½ tsp dried, fast-action yeast
pinch salt
¼ tsp freshly grated nutmeg
250g/9oz cold butter, cut into cubes, plus extra for greasing
250g/9oz caster sugar
300g/10oz currants
50g/2oz candied peel
200g/7oz clotted cream, to serve (I skipped this)

Method

Grease a 1kg/2.2lb loaf tin with butter.

Heat the saffron strands and milk in a pan over a medium heat until the milk mixture has turned yellow and is almost simmering. (oooh, pretty colors.....)

In a bowl, mix together the flour, yeast, salt and nutmeg until well combined.

Add the butter and sugar and rub in using your fingertips until the mixture resembles breadcrumbs.


Stir in the currants and candied peel until well combined. (I couldn't find candied peel anywhere! So I made my own. There are many recipes out there if you can't find any in the store.)

Pour over the saffron-infused milk and stir until the mixture comes together as a soft dough.

Turn out the dough onto a lightly floured work surface and knead lightly until smooth.

Transfer the dough to the prepared loaf tin. Cover with a damp tea towel and set aside in a warm place for 30-45 minutes, or until risen.

Preheat the oven to 180C/350F/Gas 4.

Transfer the saffron cake to the oven and bake for 45 minutes to one hour, or until the cake is pale golden-brown and has risen.

Set the cake aside to cool slightly, then turn out of the loaf tin onto a plate and cut into slices. Serve with clotted cream.

My lemonade was kind of thrown together. I used the juice of 4 lemons, 1/2 cup sugar, and approximately 30 ounces of water.   I think that's kind of subjective, some people like it very sweet, we like it kind of tart.

And voila! The finished product. So, how was it? Not going to lie, it did not meet my fantasy expectations. It was much denser than I imagined and not very cake like at all.

It also was incredibly sweet. You'll note that the recipe calls for 9 ounces of butter--that's 2 sticks plus two ounces. That combined with all the sugar made it almost like eating marzipan or something. It was too much for me but Seth loves it. Dex took one bite and was done.

I'd like to say I'll play with this recipe and try again, but it's a bit too labor intensive and expensive to make for one person in my house to enjoy.  Mrs. Palk's pride in her dish does make sense, given how complex it was to make this 100% from scratch. The lemonade is great, though!

I hope you enjoyed this inaugural post. If you have an idea for a future post, let me know below!