Perky Poached Salmon with Pink Pisco Sour Sauce

Somehow the other night I inadvertently made an all pink dinner. Sometimes the only things you have in your fridge are salmon, beets and Meyer lemons.  Forget lettuce or carrots.  But after last weeks’ all brown dinner, which is a frequent specialty, fluorescent pink looks great on the plate.  This would be a great meal for Valentine’s day.

I loosely based this meal on Peruvian cuisine.  I went to Peru in 2005, alone. I'm not sure how well advised it is to travel solo in South America as a 21 year old girl, but I’m still alive. I spent the afternoons wandering around Cusco conversing with a textile shop owner, and wandered around Machu Picchu with a wicked cold, warding off death as I admired the beautiful stone structures.

My pisco sour sauce derives from the tangy sweetness of a pisco sour cocktail, reduced with red onion and a splash of salt, for a southern hemispheric take on sweet and sour sauce. Between Peru and Chile, pisco, a distilled grape liquor, abounds. Family gatherings and fancier restaurants offered a pisco sour, a cocktail frapped with egg white, sugar, lemon juice and pisco.  After living in Chile for a year, I tried pisco mixed with just about everything, a piscola or pisco and coke was my favorite. 

I poached the salmon in olive oil, resulting in a delicious, delicate fish.  It is a treat because it requires about a cup of oil per fish fillet.  The oil cooks the fish at a low temperature allowing the fish to retain every drop of moisture without overcooking it.  I accompanied the fish with beets and quinoa which absorbs aberrant olive oil and sauce. 

Pisco sour sauce

1/2 small red onion thinly sliced

1 tbsp butter

Juice and zest of 2 Meyer lemons

1/4 cup sugar

1/4 cup pisco

 Tsp salt

Olive oil poached salmon

1 cup oil per fillet of salmon

Wild salmon fillets

For the sauce.  In a small saucepan over medium heat, melt the butter and sweat the onions, about 5 minutes.  Add lemon juice and zest, sugar, pisco and salt and reduce until thick, about 20-30 minutes.  The texture should be similar to syrup.

For the salmon.  Over low heat in saucepot large enough to fit the fish, add the oil and heat until warm to touch.  You do not want to boil the oil or overheat it, just simply warm it.  Add the salmon.  Allow to cook 15-25 minutes until the surface of the entire fish appears white.  Remove the salmon and the excess oil. 

Hawaiian Style Pina Colada Creme Brulee

Ahh.  Wondrous vacation.  

sunset at our Hawaiian paradise

Makes a girl go from looking like this

Self portrait after a horrible night shift

to this.

It’s hard to come back from a romantic belated honeymoon with time in the sun, a cool Hawaiian breeze, tropical fruit, and lots of pleasure reading to 100-degree heat and C-sections. 

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I love scientific research that is so obvious.  For example, a 2009 meta-analysis in the Journal of Occupational Health states that vacation has a positive effect on health.  People have actually spent money researching the fact that sitting on a sailboat drinking lemonade is more healthy than working a 12 hour shift overnight without sitting or eating taking care of 15 patients. Yeah, I know.   

Sadly, the same study suggests that coming back to work erodes away all positive effects of vacation between two and four weeks.  However, I have to disagree.  Having gone a six-month stretch between vacations this year with only one weekend off between, I think a vacation got me through about three months of that.  Then it was pure pain.

With this recipe, we can all go on a tropical vacation together.  I love pina coladas with their 1200 calories of rummy goodness.  I begged my husband to buy me ONE at the pool bar because it was 12 bucks.  (It wasn’t even that good.)  Now home, attempting to maintain my island spirit, I decided to make my own version of a pina colada in the form of a creamy crème brulee. This recipe has all the tropical hints of a pineapple and coconut without being overly sweet or cloying--just the elegance of fresh fruit and a tiny splash of rum wrapped in a ceramic package of a delicious custard and a crispy sugar shell.

Pina colada crème brulee

2 cups coconut milk

1 cup heavy cream

1 tbsp rum

2 tsp vanilla

5 large egg yolks, 2 large eggs

¼ cup brown sugar

Thin pineapple slices

granulated sugar to top

blowtorch! Or oven broiler

6 6 oz ramekins

Pre-heat oven to 350.  In heavy bottomed saucepan over medium heat, whisk together coconut milk, cream, rum, vanilla and brown sugar.  Heat, stirring constantly until almost simmering.  In separate bowl, whisk eggs together.  Temper eggs by slowly adding 1/3 of the warm cream mixture to the egg mixture and then add the tempered eggs back into the saucepan with the rest of the cream mixture.  Continue to heat over medium heat, stirring continuously until mixture begins to slightly thicken, about 2 minutes.  Do not allow to curdle.  Strain custard with a fine mesh strainer.  Divide mixture between ramekins.  Place ramekins in large roasting pan.  Place pan with ramekins in preheated oven and fill pan with boiling water ¾ of the way up the ramekins to make a water bath.  Bake for 15 minutes and as custards begin to set, carefully place pineapple slices on top.   Bake for another 15 minutes until the custards are set.  Remove from heat, allow to cool and refrigerate overnight. 

The next day, add 1-2 tsp granulated sugar to the top of each ramekin.  With a blowtorch or carefully with the broiler, caramelize the sugar until it is golden brown. 

De Bloom J, Kompier M, et al.  Do we recover from vacation?  Meta-analysis of vacation effects on health and well-being.  J Occup Health. 2009;51(1):13-25. Epub 2008 Dec 19.

In a Vermont state of Mind—maple walnut/ginger ice cream sandwiches

It’s incredible how one can be the same person and yet be so different.  Returning from my five-year college reunion last weekend has really given me a lot to think about.  It was truly an incredible weekend; people are the same fun they were before, but calmer and more self-assured.

It was amazing to re-encounter people who have continued life with equal passion to how they had approached school.  They still love books, ideas and the world.  They continue to write and travel, and continue to make me feel like a whole person, complimenting my scientific life.  I miss days when my less scientifically inclined friends would turn to me and say “oh Liz would know, she’s in science,” whether the discussion was about physics, genetics, or something I probably had no real data about.  For whatever fraction of evidence I could muster, they broadened my horizons about much more—literature, history, art, politics and music.  

I returned to a venerable Utopia, a liberal arts college trapped in the hills and cornfields of Vermont, where professors share their beers, their offices and their families, the food in the dining hall is better than many restaurants, the mountains sing each time you walk outside, and there is endless amount of stimulus and encouragement for self-expression and personal cultivation.  I was reminded of what my dreams and hopes were by many that remember a snapshot of my former self from five years ago. 

I was also reminded by many how consumed I was with music—many were sad to hear that I was playing piano at an extreme fraction to my previous dedication, and composing really not at all.  As hard as it is to leave my musical passions hibernating, I am really proud of who I am and what I’ve done in the past five years.  I feel centered, balanced, and in love.  Medicine, for as abusive as it is, has made me a more whole person.  I have found writing and cooking, which are much more pleasurable companions than the tormenting angst of composing.  I feel safe in my friendships, and family life has stabilized just a little bit.

As much as I’d like to give in and go back, I need all the friends I’ve made in the five years since graduation.  Because in the end, as fun as it is to talk about books, ideas, and the New Yorker, I also have the compulsive need to talk about diarrhea, pus, blood and amniotic fluid freely, which only perverts such as med students and doctors can tolerate.  Alas, life keeps going, but it is fun to reflect—and dance, drink and sing, together.

To celebrate Middlebury College, I recreated my favorite cookies back in the day—maple walnut.  Even though when I brought them up to my friends, none of them remembered them.  Well I do, and those devilish cookies stole my slender figure!  I paired the cookies, which are brown and buttery with a cool ginger ice cream and piled them into luscious ice cream sandwiches.  I learned after I bought an ice cream maker (which is documented here) that frozen treats are great bribes for boyfriend’s roommates to let you hang out at their house and they are really just plain good.  The great thing about homemade ice cream sandwiches is that the ice cream is very soft when coming out of the ice cream maker which makes it very easy to stuff the sandwiches. 

Maple Walnut Cookies with Ginger Vanilla Ice Cream

2 sticks softened butter (unsalted)

½ cup maple syrup

¾ cup brown sugar packed

1 egg

2 cups flour

1 tsp baking soda

1 ¼ tsp salt

1 ½ cups chopped walnuts

Preheat the oven to 375.  Beat sugar, butter and syrup until fluffy.  In separate bowl, combine flour, soda and salt.  Add egg to butter mixture, stir to combine, and add flour mixture.  Add walnuts, drop spoonful sized cookies and bake 8-10 minutes or until set and golden brown.  Allow to cool on sheet and transfer to cooling rack.

Ginger Ice cream

Scant cup sugar

1 cup milk

3 cups heavy whipping cream

2 tbsp grated ginger (grates very easily frozen—freeze the night before with ice cream maker)

1 tsp vanilla

Combine sugar, milk, vanilla and ginger and whisk until sugar dissolved.  Add cream.  Add to ice cream maker and follow directions. 

To assemble cookies add soft ice cream (if it is too melt-y then freeze for one to two hours before applying), freeze on cookie sheet until ice cream is firm and wrap individually in foil.

Acclimating—With Cold Zucchini Basil Soup

Greetings from Texas!  After a round-a-bout road trip from Cleveland to Dallas via Chicago, Wisconsin and Minneapolis, a golf cart tour of Reedsburg, Wisconsin, enough cheese curds to kill any innocent lactose intolerant, and a road kill tally (of identifiable animals) of over 14 deer, 19 raccoons, 8 skunks, 5 jackrabbits, 6 turtles and 10 armadillos from central Wisconsin to Texas, we arrived in Dallas.

It is slowly sinking in that this will be my home for at least the next four years, and I’m alternating between feeling excitement and pure terror.  Mostly the terror isn’t for the place itself, although that comes in waves, but is more associated with the fact that in a few weeks I’m going to be a practicing physician after months of sitting on the couch.

I’ve heard it a thousand times, but Dallas is hot!  When we got here in the middle of the day, my little peanut of a car was roasting after an hour in the sun.  It’s only May.  My hands are so balloon-like swollen after walking around that I need a Lasix and if I had an unexpected trauma they would have to take a diamond saw to my ring. 

People say we’ll get used to the temperatures.  I have to think this is true, considering I somehow miraculously and unhappily got used to winters every year in Chicago, Vermont, and Cleveland.  Science shows as people acclimatize to hot weather, they begin to overheat less and sweat more efficiently without losing as much salt; this effect is thought to be enhanced by exercise [1,2].  Time to come out of hiding and go on a walk.

Well, I’m going to stay in hiding for just a few moments, because I’m thrilled to be back in the kitchen.  My new kitchen has seven outlets whereas my old kitchen had one.  I’ll be damned however if I turned on the oven unless necessary.  In keeping with my promise to myself to cook healthy food, I have done just that. It is amazing that after weeks of eating out how amazing a simply and freshly prepared meal at home can taste.

I based this cold zucchini basil soup on a zucchini salad that I love to make.  Before you say bleck, give me a chance.  The soup is bright, tangy and delicious.  If you marinate raw zucchini in lemon juice and salt, then not unlike ceviche, the lemon softens the zucchini and blunts the rawness as well as releases a lot of liquid which makes a great base for the soup.  I then added basil, raw garlic, olive oil and a touch of the lovely Mexican cream I love down here to make a lovely cold, pureed and very green soup.  Light, refreshing and easy.  Just like the next few weeks of my life…

Creamy Cold Zucchini Basil Soup

4 medium zucchini
2 large lemons
½ tbsp salt
½ cup packed basil leaves
2 green onions whites and greens
2 cloves garlic
2 tbsp olive oil
½ cup Mexican sour cream (or just take ½ cup sour cream and add 2 tbsp milk to thin)
Water (if needed to thin soup)

Grate zucchini.  Add lemon juice and salt to zucchini in large bowl and refrigerate until cold and zucchini has begun to release juice at least one hour.  Loosely chop garlic, basil leaves and green onion.  Reserve grated zucchini for garnish.  To blender add all ingredients and water if necessary.  Serve cold.

1. Chinevere, TD., et al. “Effect of heat acclimation on sweat minerals.” Medicine & Science in Sports & Exercise, v. 40 issue 5, 2008, p. 886-91.
2. Kampmann, B., et al. “Lowering of resting core temperature during acclimation is influenced by exercise stimulus.” European Journal of Applied Physiology, v. 104 issue 2, 2008, p. 321-7.

Huevos a la Mexicana

Silence.  Well, it’s really the absence of silence.  The manmade noises, the churn of humanity are reduced to a hum.  We are left with sounds previously unnoticed.  The swish of the waves on the beach, the rustling of palms, and the creatures that activate at dusk are all that ring in our ears.

This week I unplugged from it all and spent a week in the Pacific region of Mexico with my best friend from high school.  We didn’t rough it, but we did play to local style by taking buses everywhere instead of taxis and planes and eating lots of delicious street food.  We flew to Puerto Vallarta for a night and then immediately departed to Guadalajara and then a small town on the beach near San Blas.

I unplugged from it all.  I checked my email twice and called my fiancé for five minutes.  The current Mexican telenovela buzzed in the background while I ate my pozole, but that was it for TV.  It was incredibly refreshing and mind clearing.

My friend found this magnificent bed and breakfast (although no breakfast for us) right on the beach.  I’ve been on a fair amount of beach vacations and stayed on the beach plenty of times.  But what I didn’t comprehend was that not only were we on the beach, but that we were on the beach alone.

Miles of smooth sand stretched out and the clear water extended shallowly out for hundreds of yards.  Other visitors, Mexican locals, frolicked a quarter of a mile away.  Vendors drove by in ATVs and pickups right on the sand selling ice cream and banana bread.  Otherwise, silence.

For breakfast, we adventured to the building adjacent to ours.  We pick up the menu and I start to ask questions in Spanish about the different food.  The cook for the small restaurant, an older lady named Maria Camanera astutely asked me if I like to cook.  I asked her how she knew. “Is it because soy gordita (I’m chubby?)” She chuckled.  “No" she says, "because you talk about food with passion.  Most people aren’t like that.”

I ask her to teach my how to make a simple Mexican breakfast “huevos a la Mexicana”.  She cuts up Serrano, onion, and tomato, which she proudly states are colors of the Mexican flag.  The gas to the grill glows in the underlit kitchen as she stirs her eggs and beans and presses freshly made corn tortillas right in front of us.  I contemplated staying forever, with the waves and the sand and the sun.  Silence can be very seductive.

Huevos a la Mexicana

½ onion finely diced
½ Serrano seeded and finely diced
1 ripe plum tomato finely diced
4 eggs
2 tbsp vegetable oil
Chile sauce
Refried beans
Corn Tortillas
Avocado slices
Mexican cook and beach

Over high heat, heat oil until smoking and cook vegetables until onions start to soften.  Salt to taste.  Add eggs and stir until cooked.  Serve with love.