Fresh Tomato Gazpacho – Crumbled Stale Wet Bread Sold Separately

I feel kind of bad posting a recipe that leaves out what is arguably the most important ingredient, and such is the case with this gazpacho. This garden salad masquerading as a cold soup was originally a way for field hands to stretch their resources by crumbling up stale bread into a mixture of crushed tomatoes, cucumbers, and peppers.

Sorry, panzanella, but I’ve never been a big fan of the whole wet bread thing. Even versions I’ve had where the crumbs where completely pureed in, weren’t as pleasing to me as all-veg versions. Besides, some culinary traditions are simply leftover from a time when people had to do it that way, you know, so they wouldn’t starve to death. I call this the rutabaga syndrome.

Happily, most of us can now survive just fine without fortifying our gazpacho with such additions. Having said that, if you grew up eating that style, I’ll assume you think I’m insane for even suggesting there’s another way to make it, as you rightfully should.

Like I said in the video, this is not even worth trying unless you’re going to use some killer, end-of-summer, super-sweet tomatoes. After a long wait, we finally have some decent ones here in San Francisco. There just isn’t any substitute, so happy hunting, and I hope you find some so you give this a try. Enjoy!

Ingredients:

4 large vine-ripened tomatoes, peeled and diced

1/2 English cucumber, diced

1/2 cup diced red bell pepper

1/4 cup minced green onion

1 large jalapeno, seeded and minced

2 cloves minced garlic

1 teaspoon salt

1/2 teaspoon ground cumin

pinch dried oregano

cayenne to taste

freshly ground black pepper to taste

1 pint “Sweet 100” cherry tomatoes

1 lime, juiced, or to taste

1 teaspoon Worcestershire sauce

1 tablespoon balsamic vinegar

1/4 cup extra-virgin olive oil

chiffonade of fresh basil leaves or cilantro

Fried Padron Peppers - Spain's Deliciously Dangerous Divas

This is the time of year when one of my favorite seasonal foods, the Padron pepper makes its very short, annual appearance.

By the way, in the video I refer to them as "Padrones," which is what I've always called them, and what the guy I always bought them from at the SF Farmers' market called them. However, they are more commonly called Padron peppers (just in case you are calling around looking for some).

What follows is a repost from 2008...

Padrones are small green peppers, native to Spain, but occasionally available in American farmer's markets. The season is short, and in just a few weeks they disappear, like some mysterious, charismatic visitor, leaving just as things are heating up. They tell you they'll see you next year, but that doesn't help the melancholy as you mope over to the jalapenos.

In addition to their complex, bitter-sweet flavor, the usually mild padrones are the world's most exciting pepper to eat. This is due to a fascinating genetic oddity - one out of every dozen or so peppers is really spicy!

So, there you are, happily enjoying your time with this sexy, soft-spoken Spaniard, and wham! Out of nowhere you get slapped in the face! By the way, if this metaphor is ever made into a movie, Penélope Cruz will be playing the part of the temperamental pepper.

As you'll see in the video, a simple preparation is recommended. A quick sizzle in hot olive oil, and a few flakes of "Fleur de Sel" sea salt is all that's needed with this late summer treat. Too many ingredients, and the flavor will not be fully enjoyed. Think about it, in the movie, should Penélope Cruz be in a 3-piece suit, or a simple cotton sundress? Enjoy!

A special thanks to Steve Eliot for his generous gift of these beautiful padrones.

Grilled Spanish Mustard Beef Doesn't Have a Ring to It

When people ask me if I'm ever afraid of running out of recipes to film, I usually joke that new recipes aren't the problem, it's running out of things to call them that's the real fear. Take this horribly named Spanish mustard beef for example. Least poetic name, ever.

Despite the awkward name, this fast and user-friendly wet rub did a fine job flavoring some carne asada I grilled recently (yes, that was redundant). I'm calling it Spanish mustard since I spiked the Dijon with a couple of my favorite ingredients of all time – smoked paprika and sherry vinegar.

Be sure to go find the real stuff (that it comes from Spain is one clue). If your marinade is only going to have a couple ingredients, you better make sure you're using top shelf stuff. The other two keys to this recipe are as follows: only let the meat marinate for about an hour, otherwise it may start to "cook" in the acid; and be sure to build a very hot fire.

Since this is a wet rub, we need the meat to sear and caramelize, not to steam in its own juices. After successfully grilling and slicing thin, against the grain, this can be eaten in hundreds of ways; all delicious. You'll see my tortilla delivery system, but everything from paper-thin rice paper wrappers to thick slices of grilled bread would be perfect.

This is also a fantastic marinade for thin-cut pork shoulder chops, or any of your favorite chicken parts. By the way, while you're grilling, sipping on a cold beer, or sangria, try and think of a better name. Enjoy!




Ingredients:
2 pounds thin sliced beef (any thin flap meat, skirt steak, flank steak, round steak, etc.
2 tablespoons Dijon
2 tablespoons smoked paprika
4 cloves minced, crushed garlic, optional
1/4 cup sherry vinegar
1/4 cup light olive oil
salt and freshly ground black pepper to tastes