Tag Archives: Food

Cooking with canned fish

I woke up this morning feeling I needed to make special.  So I thought to myself, `What about a comfy resting place for a friendly mouse?’

First I put a nice bed of young green tendrils on a plate.  Then, I placed a ring of mash leftover from the previous evening in the centre of that bed.  (I made this mash by boiling new potatoes, blanching and chopping asparagus, and smashing the two with a whisk, whilst adding plain yogurt, low-fat mayo, lemon juice, and salt and pepper to taste.)

On top of my ring of mash, I added tomato confit.  (In my frigo yesterday, I had 6 tomatoes, which were the size and ripeness of racquetballs.  So, I cut off their caps, brushed on some olive oil, then added salt, pepper, and fennel seed.  I baked them at a low temperature over 4-5 hours, flipping them once half-way through.)

On top of the tomato confit, I placed some canned fish, which I think is the best nutrition and power-packed taste per pence out there.  I used what I had in stock: mackerel in spicy tomato sauce.  I heated up the fish by putting the slightly cracked open can in a bath of simmering water, whilst making a poached egg, which I placed on top of the fish.  (I didn’t do the egg and the canned fish in the same pot, but that would have been genius.  I’m only an amateur.)

Before eating this tower of power, I rinsed the empty fish can and placed it outside my door for a mouse.  Welcome home, neighbour.

Imperfect Chocolate Mousse

When reading the great philosophers, Tolstoy recommends substituting chocolate mousse whenever you come across ambiguous platonic terms such as will, spirit, soul, and love.  Your reading might make more sense, or at least be more pleasurable.

Chocolate mousse is supposed to be transcendent.  But the mousse I make is a humble shadow of the divine sort.  People stilll seem to like it anyway.  Originally an accidental mistake, it has now matured into an imperfect intention.

My sister-in-law has asked for the recipe.   Like colour-by-number, I’m against recipes in principle.  In fact, the imperfect chocolate mousse is a good reason why.  If I had followed a recipe, I probably would not have happened upon it.  But she’s my sister-in-law.  So I’m not allowed to say no.  I’ll transcribe what I did and feel free to do it in your own way.

To make imperfect chocolate mousse, I commit the highest of chocolate sins by intentionally curdling the chocolate.  This produces a chocolate mousse that has bits in it.  It really isn’t mousse anymore.  But I like food with bits in them.  It’s evidence that the food is probably hand-made and therefore imperfect.

Once when I ate smooth, perfect chocolate mousse, I thought about cafeteria mashed potatoes: the sort of mashed potatoes shot through a gun or rehydrated with water, sitting in a large aluminum tub on a heat plate.  Its plastic wrap cover is stretching and pooling in condensation.  That’s gross.  I like mashed potatoes with bits.  I like chocolate `mousse’ with bits.  Oh well.

But if you use this recipe for guests, be warned.  You will likely have a foodie at the table who will criticise it.  This is the criticism of someone likely afraid of difference and trying to exert their superiority by claims to culinary knowledge.  Tell them they must have missed the joke.

`Duh, it’s intentionally ironic mousse.  I’m anti-emulsion.’

Never invite them over again.

With that out of the way, let’s turn to making the bitty mousse.  Here is the recipe, tested in my kitchen this morning, and transcribed by my daughter:

Now I’ll translate her transcription.

This recipe makes a small bowl of chocolate that will probably serve 4 people, unless 2 of them are my wife and daughter.

First, source your ingredients.  It’s chocolate mousse.  Your pleasure comes down to the chocolate you use.  I use Menier 70% cocoa patisserie chocolate.  You’ll probably be fine as long as you don’t use Hershey’s Kisses.

You need two eggs, preferably at room temperature.   You’ll also need 1/2 cup of powdered sugar and 100 ml (1/2 cup) of cream.  You also need 2 large bowls, one for making whipped cream and one for making meringue.   Finally, you need one small bowl for whipping egg yolks, a double boiler, and a hand or table mixer will really help.

Begin by separating your egg yolks and whites, and break your chocolate into small chunks.  Bring up water to a low boil in a double boiler.  If you don’t have a double boiler, just set a pyrex or heatproof bowl on top of your pot of water.  Voila.  As Fancy Nancy says, that means `Ta-da!’

Make a meringue by whipping egg whites into a soft peak and then incorporate 1/4 cup (30g) of powdered sugar.  Your pale whites will turn into a bowl of magical pearl fluff.  If they don’t, then you might be making doubly imperfect chocolate mousse, which may be better than mine.  Put meringue in the fridge.

Make your whipped cream.  Whip your cream until it becomes light and fluffy.  You can overwhip cream quite easily and curdle it.  Don’t do that unless you want to make triply imperfect chocolate mousse, which may be better than the double or single version.  When they are light and fluffy, incorporate the remaining 1/4 cup (30g) of powdered sugar.  Put whipped cream in the fridge.

Now to the curdled chocolate.  Whip your egg yolks quickly.  Put chocolate bits in double boiler over low boil.  Stir while your chocolate melts into a glossy, smooth batter.  Once the chocolate is fully melted take it off the heat.  Slowly pour egg yolks into the chocolate.  The chocolate should curdle and loose its sheen.

(If you want to make boringly perfect mousse, add 2 oz of warm water to the chocolate before melting.  And, let the chocolate cool down for 2 minutes before adding the egg yolks.  Then proceed.)

Take the whipped cream, meringue, and curdled chocolate.  Put them at three corners of a triangle inside a large bowl and admire what you have done so far.  Then fold them together very quickly. Fold by running a rubber spatula under, over and in between the ingredients, whipping quick and long figure eights.  If you think too much about how to fold, you are probably doing it wrong.  Just relax and think about the perfect number eight.

Chill the mousse and you are ready for imperfection.  I like to serve mine from a chipped bowl.