Showing posts with label guaje. Show all posts
Showing posts with label guaje. Show all posts

Friday, March 16, 2012

Guajes and Smoked Octopus

We keep on playing games with food here and some things work and are worth repeating and others get relegated to the it-was-interesting-but-not-that-interesting file. Here are photos from our latest Chef's Table, our regular 6pm 6-course tasting that we hold every Thursday evening.

California Roll Salad. We decided to deconstruct a California roll and present it as a salad. Honestly, though I am sure that the flavors are all fine, I'm underwhelmed by the result in the sense that it is probably not as good as a straight up California roll. I think there is too much going on here, something that I am not often guilty of: avocado, sesame seeds, wasabi, guaje seeds, yellow tomato, puffed wild rice, crab marinated in yuzu vinaigrette, tobiko, and slivers of nori. All fine ingredients but fails to adhere to less-is-more and I'm not wild about the presentation either. Minor fail.



Skate Cheeks. Everyone who eats seafood should try skate cheeks at least once. They are such wonderful morsels of pillowy goodness. You see them here in a sautée of artichokes hearts and pancetta, finished with white wine, herbs, and butter. Life is very good after you eat this dish.



Rosemary-Smoked Octopus. For me, this was the highlight of the dinner. I have never had smoked octopus before and not sure what prompted me to smoke it this time, but I am hooked. This is a really good dish. We poached the octopus in court bouillon until it was tender and chilled it overnight, then I cold smoked it lightly over cherry wood and fresh rosemary. At service, I tossed the octopus in unfiltered extra virgin olive oil and fleur de sel and warmed it on the grill. You see it sitting on an orzo, feta, and oregano custard. The dish is garnished with more olive oil, a squeeze of lemon juice, and the tiniest of sprigs of oregano that are just now popping up outside the restaurant. This dish is a winner, hands down: well conceived, well executed, nicely presented, and outstandingly delicious.



Grilled Brined Pork Tenderloin. We had some leftover trimmings from a pork tenderloin entrée, so we decided to brine and grill them to show off our dried cherry olivada and amarena cherry mosto cotto. The brine is salt, brown sugar, allspice, and pepper. The "olivada" is a tapenade-like condiment consisting of dried cherries, olives, anchovies, capers, garlic, thyme, oregano, lemon juice, and extra virgin olive oil. We colored a parsnip purée with spinach for contrast on the plate. Very tasty.



Local Lamb Rack Roulade. I removed every other bone from a large lamb rack and then butterflied and stuffed the rib-eye with a mixture of brunoise of sunchoke (Jerusalem artichoke), rosemary, Dijon mustard, panko, and goat cheese. Then I rolled the rib-eye back up, tied, seared, and roasted it. Here you see it with a wild watercress pesto and a glazed lozenge of celery root.



Baked Alaska. How often do you see Baked Alaska at a restaurant? When made correctly, it's a light and whimsical ending to a meal. On a base of sliced pineapple, we mounded our jackfruit and Meyer lemon granita and then piped on a layer of coconut Italian meringue made from the whites of all the local duck eggs that go into our pastries.

Alien Ingredient #22: Guaje

I was amused to see what looks like locust pods in a bundle on the shelf of the produce section at the store. And even more amused to see them on an episode of Chopped the very same evening that I bought them for this series. These guajes are the seed pods of a Mimosa-/Acacia-looking tree (Leucaena leucocephala) native to southern Mexico. No wonder they look like locust seed pods—the trees are cousins. These have a bronze tint; I have also seen bundles of green pods as well. I am led to believe that they taste identical regardless of pod color.

First things first. There is no way that this seed pod is edible: it is way too tough. That some of the contestants on Chopped would have not figured this out just goes to show what lack of talent that show features. So how to open them? First, they're green (in the sense of immature) so they don't split open as readily as dried bean or locust pods. I've shelled a bunch of beans in my life and these are tougher than some and easier than others. Rip one of the long strings off one of the edges and then starting at the tip, try to split the two sides of the pod apart. Once you get it started, the pods open fairly readily and the beans pop right out.
So what you have left when you shell out the guajes is some green pumpkin seed looking affairs without a hard seed coat. Into the mouth it goes and—drumroll please—it tastes green and vegetal with overtones of avocado and a pleasant undercurrent of garlic. Not too different from the green chickpeas we tried a few weeks ago. The first thing that comes screaming into my brain is guacamole. As soon as the bags of avocados on the counter ripen later this week, these guajes are definitely going into guacamole. Some tortillas are going into the fryer. And I am feasting.

Digging around on the web, I see that guaje seeds are frequently used in guacamole (great minds think alike), in green salsas, and in cooked sauces. I have no doubt that they would be wonderful in my next batch of pepián (a green mole).

Vote: Who would think something this awesome comes from a dry, stringy seed pod? I love these things and am having a hard time imagining guacamole without them ever again.