Salt Cod Stew

dorisandjilly — Sat, 06 Feb 2010 22:26:29 +0000

Here we are, in the midst of the snowpacalypse, and my patience for winter is running out. I’ve been dreaming of warm, sunny places where it doesn’t snow 24″ every other month. I’ve been eating marmalade out of the jar and downing tropical fruit left and right, but clearly, it was time to step it up a notch….so I’ve moved on to virtual vacations. Given my fondness for both the Iberian Peninsula and salt, was it inevitable that I turned to salt cod?

This is a fairly basic salt cod stew from Simon and Inés Ortega’s wonderful 1080 Recipes. If you haven’t seen this book and are curious about what Spaniards eat at home (as opposed to in tapas bars), you’ve got to check it out. Part of what I love about it is that the translation to English is pretty much limited to language and measurements—I can think of few things less likely to appear in an American cookbook than “Lambs’ feet fritters” or “Pickled Partridges.” Other recipes, though, are eminently doable and made for improvisation. I was very, very happy with this recipe. The stew turned out sort of like a Spanish bouillabaisse, or maybe a thin Manhattan chowder, and the cooked salt cod ends up with a texture not unlike lobster.

Salt cod may be a bit hard to come by in certain parts of the country, but I’ve had good luck finding it in ethnic groceries, urban supermarkets, and Philadelphia’s Italian Market. Unless you’ve made your own salt cod, no points here for seasonal or local, but the rest of the ingredients are more virtuous.

Salt Cod Stew (paraphrased and lightly adapted from 1080 Recipes)

1 lb or package of boneless salt cod
2 T olive oil
1 large onion, chopped
3 cloves garlic, minced
1 pint home-canned tomatoes or roasted tomatoes
springs of bouquet garni herbs: lavender, thyme, parsley, and a bay leaf
2 lbs potatoes, in thick slices
6 c. fish stock (optional)
pinch of saffron
handful chopped parsley

1) The night before you make the stew, start soaking the salt cod in a tray or dish. Change the water at least four times—the more you change the water, the less salty it will be.

2) Cook the onions in the oil in a soup pot for about five minutes, until translucent. Add the garlic and stir 30 seconds more. Add the tomatoes and their juices and cook another 5 minutes. Add about 6 cups of water or fish stock, the herbs (except the saffron), and the potatoes. Bring to a boil, turn the heat down, and start simmering.

3) Meanwhile, crush the saffron in a small bowl, then dissolve it in a bit of the hot stock. Add the mixture to the pot and simmer about 20 minutes.

4) Cut the salt cod in about 1″ pieces, removing any stray bones. Transfer to the soup pot and cook another 10 minutes. Taste for seasoning—it most likely won’t need salt, but a little pepper is nice. Throw in some chopped parsley for garnish.

I can’t think of any reason why you shouldn’t be able to make this in the crock pot, except that it might get too salty if you didn’t soak the salt cod properly. If anyone has tried that successfully, please let me know!

Preserved Lemons

dorisgoat — Tue, 17 Feb 2009 22:27:46 +0000

I love preserved lemons. They’re like a sour, citrus salt kick, ready to be eaten straight out of the jar or tossed into salads. They’re also very easy to make, but you have to be patient and trust in the anti-microbial powers of salt.

What you’ll need:

3–4 lemons
beaucoup de kosher salt
more lemon juice
a sterilized pint jar
in an ideal world: a plastic lid (I’ll explain why below)

What to do:

Take your lemons and make 8 or so longitudinal cuts. You want to go almost to the tips, but not quite, so they’re still connected. Do this over a bowl so you can collect the juice. Next, rub the cut flesh with kosher salt. I’m talking lots of salt here. Now stuff the lemons into the jar. (As an aside: it’s not clear to me why you have to sterilize the jar, seeing as how you’re rubbing your fingers all over the lemons and then have to smoosh them to fit. But all the recipes say to do this, so I’m just the messenger.) Pour the newly collected lemon juice, plus the juice from at least one other lemon, into the jar. It might not be full, but that’s OK: the lemons will release more liquid as they age. Screw on the lid.

Now you wait. Just sit it on the countertop, or in a cabinet, and let it ferment for at least a couple of weeks. If, after a few days, it isn’t full of liquid, add more lemon juice. If your house is cold, like mine has been, it might take up to a month before they’re done. Turn the jar upside down every once and awhile (and put a plate underneath it so it doesn’t leak). Then start tasting. If when you bite into one it still puckers your mouth, it’s not quite done. It should be very salty, and tart, but not overtly citrusy.

If you want to get fancy, add some peppers or spices to the jar.

Now, an obvious question is: Why is this safe to eat? And, Do I need to refrigerate this? And, what’s with the plastic lid? The third question is the easiest. The liquid is very acidic, and a regular metal canning lid will eventually rust. That doesn’t mean you can’t use one, but be aware that you probably won’t be able to reuse the lid. The second question is a definite maybe. Some people do, some don’t; I do, to stay on the safe side. The answer to the first is the crux of most food preservation. The combination of salt and high acidity (from the lemon juice) discourage the growth of bad bacteria, allowing the tastier kinds to flourish. If you don’t use enough salt, or enough lemon juice, or your kitchen is too hot, you might get mold. If, when you open the jar, it smells bad, or the the lemons appear slimy, throw it out and try again. And in fact, this is why you shouldn’t add water to the jar if it needs more liquid: the water will dilute both the percentage of acid (from the lemon juice) and the salt in the solution.

So remember: salt is your friend!

Doris and Jilly Cook » salt

Salt Cod Stew

Salt Cod Stew (paraphrased and lightly adapted from 1080 Recipes)

Preserved Lemons

What you’ll need:

What to do: