Tzatziki Inspired by Ina Garten

Taskim Square, Istanbul, Turkey (PHOTO:RLW)

Tzatziki or tzadziki (Greek: τζατζίκι [dzaˈdzici] or [dʒaˈdʒici]; Turkish: cacık [dʒaˈdʒɯk]; /zæˈdziːkiː/ Albanian: xaxiq; Persian: ماست و خیار) is a Greek and Turkish meze or appetizer, also used as a sauce for souvlaki and gyros. In both Greece and Turkey we have had this dish served to us – always cold - as an accompaniment. This is a knockout served with rotisserie-roasted boneless leg of lamb.

             This version originates with the Barefoot Contessa - Ina Garten’s “Parties” cookbook. Her recipe calls for straining plain yogurt to make it thicker. I recommend finding a good Greek market that has homemade yogurt. It will be very thick and then you can skip this step. Chobani works as well. Use seedless cucumbers and a mandolin and shred them first into a strainer – then they will be ready at the end to throw into the sauce.

1          pound (1 pint) Greek yogurt (whole milk or low fat)

1          seedless cucumber, unpeeled and seeded

1          tablespoon plus ½ teaspoon kosher salt

½         cup sour cream

1          tablespoon Champagne vinegar or white wine vinegar

2          tablespoons freshly squeezed lemon juice (1 lemon)

1          tablespoon good olive oil

1 ½      teaspoons minced garlic

1 ½      teaspoons minced fresh dill

             Pinch freshly ground black pepper

Preparations:

Put the Greek yogurt in a bowl. Squeeze as much liquid from the cucumber as you can and add the cucumber to the yogurt. Mix in the sour cream, vinegar, lemon juice, olive oil, garlic, dill, 1/2 teaspoon salt, and pepper. Mix thoroughly with a whisk and a strong arm. You can serve it immediately, but it is better to put the tzatziki in the refrigerator for a few hours for the flavors to blend. I like it chilled a as counterpoint to roasted lamb. 

When French Women Cook

Bistro Seafood on the Champs-Élysées (PHOTO:RLW)

The famous French cook Madeleine Kamman wrote the most charming memoir published in 1976 (Ten Speed Press) about her gastronomic childhood in France entitled "When French Women Cook." It is a series of remembrances of significant women in Madeline's life who happen to express the essence of the French method of cooking in each of the eight main culinary regions of France they lived in. It is an exceptional journey through what cooking once was - and what is should be about in spirit today.

Richard Wottrich, richard.wottrich@gmail.com

Grill It - Roast It

Jetta in the herb garden waiting for meat

I have been grilling meat all my life, which is to say that I slap the meat on the grill and cook it until done. There are nuances to this process to be sure, but that’s really all there is. The problem with this approach is that you typically end up with a charred exterior and a dry interior unless you hit just the right combination of grill heat and time on the grill. The image is of a man before a grill, with a water squirt bottle in his hand, waiting to put out flare-ups. Experience counts, but the odds aren't great.

Roasting on the other hand is a more forgiving method. Whether you are roasting a seven pound capon for 90 minutes, or slow cooking pork shoulder for three hours, the process allows some margin for error. Usually you sear the meat briefly before roasting, so the exterior has a passing reference to its grilled cousins.

Recently a Costco label on a package of St. Louis dry rubbed spicy ribs caused me to combine the two. I know – what a come down – taking cooking lessons from a computer-generated Big Box label. But what did I have to lose - $10?

The label called for grilling the ribs for 8-10 minutes a side, and then roasting them over indirect heat for another hour and a half. Simple enough. So instead of trying to second guess these instructions with my 20 years of cooking experience, I just did it. I directly grilled the ribs and then onto a rack in a roasting pan they went over indirect 500-degree heat. Unbelievable! The ribs were fantastic!

The short grill time seared the juices inside and developed just enough ‘char’ or ‘umami’ to satisfy the taste buds. The roasting produced moist succulent meat that stayed on the bones with a slight tenacity to satisfy our carnivorous urge to rip them apart.

Next I tried chicken breasts on the bone, skin on, as an acid test. This is a grilling oxymoron, as we want crisp crinkly skin, but moist succulent meat. On a grill you usually get one or the other. I seared the chicken breasts for five minutes a side on a very hot open grill. Then I put the breasts, meat side up, in a heavy cast iron pan and roasted them in the covered grill at the same temperature over indirect heat for another 20 minutes. Nirvana! Browned flavorful crispy chicken skin and the moistest chicken breast you could ever want.

One last tip. I put in a potted herb garden right next to my grill every year – 38 pots this year – but that’s me. All you really need is rosemary, basil and parsley - and maybe oregano if you know what's good for you. When grilling I throw several rosemary branches onto the grill and cover it. In a few moments they ignite into an aromatic smoke that perfumes whatever meat you are cooking – it’s heaven. In the fall I cut the dead rosemary branches off and stuff them in a terra cotta pot and leave them until the next summer. The dead branches achieve the exact same result on the grill.

So next time – grill it – roast it.