Adjectives fall short of capturing cilantro's essence
By Marcia Poole | Posted: Wednesday, July 30, 2008
Ale-Poached Chicken Salad Tacos calls on cilantro and a whole lot more for a warming touch to a casual entre.
It's easy to spout superlatives that say how much we like certain foods, as in: "What an absolutely fabulous cheesecake."
It's harder to reach for words that work beneath the surface, describe a complexity of flavor and speak to the fullness of food.
Take cilantro. I like cilantro a great deal. It won my palate in the early 1980s when I attended a food conference sponsored by Pace Picante Sauce in San Antonio, Texas.
Back then, cilantro wasn't exactly commonplace in Siouxland supermarkets. Salsa, a showcase for cilantro, was just getting started in this area as a condiment that would one day rival ketchup. But in San Antonio in the early '80s, salsa was front and center; cilantro was everywhere.
Yes, I was blown away by cilantro -- the flavor and the scent of it. I was captivated by what it did for fresh tomatoes. Topped with fresh minced cilantro, tomatoes needed no other embellishments -- no other props to make them star of the side dish. The tomato-cilantro duo had it all. But I didn't have the words to say exactly why.
When I looked at cilantro with its delicately fringed leaves, it seemed it should taste something like parsley -- and it did, sort of. Its strong, distinctive fragrance, however, had a freshness that made me think of fresh lemons. And did I taste something peppery? Yes, definitely peppery. But there was something more -- something deep in cilantro's essence that eluded my vocabulary.
Then author Julie Sahni came along with her book "Savoring Spices and Herbs: Recipe Secrets of Flavor, Aroma and Color" (William Morrow and Company: 1996). Sahni supplied a fuller sensory description: "Cilantro has a piquant taste and a strong scent reminiscent of lemon, parsley and seaweed with undertones of pepper, mint and moss."
I didn't get the mint or the moss. But seaweed? Maybe that was it. As a Pacific Northwest native, I’m as familiar with seaweed as a North Dakotan is with sunflowers. Great long, stringy clumps of it often caught us kids by the legs as we swam in the Puget Sound's saltwater at high tide. At low tide, seaweed matted our oyster-bedded beaches, drying under the summer sun -- that is when the sun decided to make an appearance.
We tried to avoid seaweed while swimming. We had only a vague reference of it as an exotic food, used mainly in Japanese cuisine. Little did we know that we were probably consuming seaweed on a regular basis as an ingredient used in food processing.
Sahni's educated palate eased my frustration and awakened my appreciation for cilantro's reference to saltwater recreation. She helped me appreciate cilantro even more.
Beyond descriptions, there's plenty of reason to reach for cilantro at the supermarket. It's inexpensive, readily available and easy to incorporate into cooked foods and salads. It's fabulous in dips and sauces, and especially on sliced fresh tomatoes.
Cilantro is sold in bunches, like parsley. Choose perky cilantro, free of yellow or brown leaves. One bunch will yield three-quarters to one cup of leaves.
At home, rinse cilantro well and dry, then pick off the leaves -- they're the subtly flavored part. Discard the stems unless a recipe calls for them. Most uncooked salsa recipes use only the leaves.
Handle cilantro with care; it bruises easily. To store it, make sure the leaves are dry. Wrap the leaves loosely in a plastic bag and refrigerate. At best, cilantro will keep up to about a week.
As for cooking with cilantro, add it at the last minute. It turns black when cooked in a tomato or other acid medium. Heat also diminishes its flavor.
Cilantro figures into a taco recipe just released from the National Beer Wholesalers Association in Alexandria, Va. Ale-Poached Chicken Salad Tacos feature chopped chicken and the rich flavor of red ale beer. Soy sauce, ground cumin, a chipotle pepper, adobo sauce, limes, red onion and cilantro combine to give the chicken filling pizzazz. Pile the filling into taco shells and top with chopped tomatoes and avocados.
If there's room for dessert, the beer distributors are ready with an offbeat idea: Fudgy Porter Brownie Squares. The stout, they say, adds extra moistness and richness.
Ale-Poached Chicken Salad Tacos
2 (1.5 pounds each) split chicken breast halves, bone-in and skin-on
1 bottle (12 ounces) red ale beer
2 tablespoons reduced-sodium soy sauce
1 teaspoon ground cumin
1 chipotle chile in adobo sauce, plus 1 tablespoon adobo sauce
One-quarter cup light mayonnaise
One-third cup diced red onion
Two and one-half tablespoons chopped cilantro
1 tablespoon lime juice
1 teaspoon lime zest
12 crisp taco shells
1 Haas avocado, diced
1 tomato, diced
In large food storage bag with zip top, combine chicken, ale, soy sauce, cumin, half of the chipotle chile and the adobo sauce. Seal bag; turn to coat chicken well. Refrigerate at least one hour and up to six hours.
Remove chicken from marinade and place in medium saucepan, skin-side down; add marinade from bag. Bring to a boil, reduce heat to medium-low, cover and poach chicken 22 to 24 minutes, until cooked through.
Remove chicken to cutting board; let sit until cool enough to handle. Discard skin and bones; pull chicken into bite-sized shreds and toss in a medium bowl with one-third cup of the poaching liquid until absorbed. Add mayonnaise, the remaining half of the chipotle (chopped), red onion, cilantro, lime zest and juice. Toss well until coated.
Fill taco shells with chicken salad. Top with chopped tomato and avocado. Makes 12 tacos, six servings. Each serving has 420 calories; 18 g fat; 3.5 g saturated fat; 24 g carbohydrate; 5 g fiber; 2 g sugars. Source: National Beer Wholesalers Association
Fudgy Porter Brownie Squares
6 tablespoons unsalted butter
8 ounces bittersweet chocolate chips
2 eggs
1 cup sugar
One and one-half teaspoons vanilla extract
One-half teaspoon baking powder
One-quarter teaspoon salt
1 cup all-purpose flour
One-half cup porter beer or chocolate stout beer
One-half cup confectioner's sugar
Preheat oven to 350 degrees F. Line a nine-by-nine-inch baking pan with nonstick foil, letting foil extend two inches beyond two sides of the pan.
In large glass bowl in microwave oven, melt butter and chocolate together. Whisk mixture until smooth. Whisk in eggs, then sugar, vanilla, baking powder and salt until well-blended. Whisk in flour and beer until batter is smooth.
Pour mixture into prepared pan. Place in oven and bake 30 minutes, until a pick inserted in center comes out slightly wet. Cool completely in pan on wire rack.
Remove brownies by foil ends to a cutting board. Cut into 16 squares. Dust tops with confectioner's sugar. Each serving has 210 calories; 11 g fat; 6 g saturated fat; 30 g carbohydrate; 1 g fiber; 21 g sugar. Source: National Beer Wholesalers Association
It's harder to reach for words that work beneath the surface, describe a complexity of flavor and speak to the fullness of food.
Take cilantro. I like cilantro a great deal. It won my palate in the early 1980s when I attended a food conference sponsored by Pace Picante Sauce in San Antonio, Texas.
Back then, cilantro wasn't exactly commonplace in Siouxland supermarkets. Salsa, a showcase for cilantro, was just getting started in this area as a condiment that would one day rival ketchup. But in San Antonio in the early '80s, salsa was front and center; cilantro was everywhere.
Yes, I was blown away by cilantro -- the flavor and the scent of it. I was captivated by what it did for fresh tomatoes. Topped with fresh minced cilantro, tomatoes needed no other embellishments -- no other props to make them star of the side dish. The tomato-cilantro duo had it all. But I didn't have the words to say exactly why.
When I looked at cilantro with its delicately fringed leaves, it seemed it should taste something like parsley -- and it did, sort of. Its strong, distinctive fragrance, however, had a freshness that made me think of fresh lemons. And did I taste something peppery? Yes, definitely peppery. But there was something more -- something deep in cilantro's essence that eluded my vocabulary.
Then author Julie Sahni came along with her book "Savoring Spices and Herbs: Recipe Secrets of Flavor, Aroma and Color" (William Morrow and Company: 1996). Sahni supplied a fuller sensory description: "Cilantro has a piquant taste and a strong scent reminiscent of lemon, parsley and seaweed with undertones of pepper, mint and moss."
I didn't get the mint or the moss. But seaweed? Maybe that was it. As a Pacific Northwest native, I’m as familiar with seaweed as a North Dakotan is with sunflowers. Great long, stringy clumps of it often caught us kids by the legs as we swam in the Puget Sound's saltwater at high tide. At low tide, seaweed matted our oyster-bedded beaches, drying under the summer sun -- that is when the sun decided to make an appearance.
We tried to avoid seaweed while swimming. We had only a vague reference of it as an exotic food, used mainly in Japanese cuisine. Little did we know that we were probably consuming seaweed on a regular basis as an ingredient used in food processing.
Sahni's educated palate eased my frustration and awakened my appreciation for cilantro's reference to saltwater recreation. She helped me appreciate cilantro even more.
Beyond descriptions, there's plenty of reason to reach for cilantro at the supermarket. It's inexpensive, readily available and easy to incorporate into cooked foods and salads. It's fabulous in dips and sauces, and especially on sliced fresh tomatoes.
Cilantro is sold in bunches, like parsley. Choose perky cilantro, free of yellow or brown leaves. One bunch will yield three-quarters to one cup of leaves.
At home, rinse cilantro well and dry, then pick off the leaves -- they're the subtly flavored part. Discard the stems unless a recipe calls for them. Most uncooked salsa recipes use only the leaves.
Handle cilantro with care; it bruises easily. To store it, make sure the leaves are dry. Wrap the leaves loosely in a plastic bag and refrigerate. At best, cilantro will keep up to about a week.
As for cooking with cilantro, add it at the last minute. It turns black when cooked in a tomato or other acid medium. Heat also diminishes its flavor.
Cilantro figures into a taco recipe just released from the National Beer Wholesalers Association in Alexandria, Va. Ale-Poached Chicken Salad Tacos feature chopped chicken and the rich flavor of red ale beer. Soy sauce, ground cumin, a chipotle pepper, adobo sauce, limes, red onion and cilantro combine to give the chicken filling pizzazz. Pile the filling into taco shells and top with chopped tomatoes and avocados.
If there's room for dessert, the beer distributors are ready with an offbeat idea: Fudgy Porter Brownie Squares. The stout, they say, adds extra moistness and richness.
Ale-Poached Chicken Salad Tacos
2 (1.5 pounds each) split chicken breast halves, bone-in and skin-on
1 bottle (12 ounces) red ale beer
2 tablespoons reduced-sodium soy sauce
1 teaspoon ground cumin
1 chipotle chile in adobo sauce, plus 1 tablespoon adobo sauce
One-quarter cup light mayonnaise
One-third cup diced red onion
Two and one-half tablespoons chopped cilantro
1 tablespoon lime juice
1 teaspoon lime zest
12 crisp taco shells
1 Haas avocado, diced
1 tomato, diced
In large food storage bag with zip top, combine chicken, ale, soy sauce, cumin, half of the chipotle chile and the adobo sauce. Seal bag; turn to coat chicken well. Refrigerate at least one hour and up to six hours.
Remove chicken from marinade and place in medium saucepan, skin-side down; add marinade from bag. Bring to a boil, reduce heat to medium-low, cover and poach chicken 22 to 24 minutes, until cooked through.
Remove chicken to cutting board; let sit until cool enough to handle. Discard skin and bones; pull chicken into bite-sized shreds and toss in a medium bowl with one-third cup of the poaching liquid until absorbed. Add mayonnaise, the remaining half of the chipotle (chopped), red onion, cilantro, lime zest and juice. Toss well until coated.
Fill taco shells with chicken salad. Top with chopped tomato and avocado. Makes 12 tacos, six servings. Each serving has 420 calories; 18 g fat; 3.5 g saturated fat; 24 g carbohydrate; 5 g fiber; 2 g sugars. Source: National Beer Wholesalers Association
Fudgy Porter Brownie Squares
6 tablespoons unsalted butter
8 ounces bittersweet chocolate chips
2 eggs
1 cup sugar
One and one-half teaspoons vanilla extract
One-half teaspoon baking powder
One-quarter teaspoon salt
1 cup all-purpose flour
One-half cup porter beer or chocolate stout beer
One-half cup confectioner's sugar
Preheat oven to 350 degrees F. Line a nine-by-nine-inch baking pan with nonstick foil, letting foil extend two inches beyond two sides of the pan.
In large glass bowl in microwave oven, melt butter and chocolate together. Whisk mixture until smooth. Whisk in eggs, then sugar, vanilla, baking powder and salt until well-blended. Whisk in flour and beer until batter is smooth.
Pour mixture into prepared pan. Place in oven and bake 30 minutes, until a pick inserted in center comes out slightly wet. Cool completely in pan on wire rack.
Remove brownies by foil ends to a cutting board. Cut into 16 squares. Dust tops with confectioner's sugar. Each serving has 210 calories; 11 g fat; 6 g saturated fat; 30 g carbohydrate; 1 g fiber; 21 g sugar. Source: National Beer Wholesalers Association
Story Comments
Read More and Post Comments 1 comment(s)
Please note: The following are comments from readers. In no way do they represent the views of The Sioux City Journal or Lee Enterprises. We will not edit or alter your comments, but we do reserve the right to not post or to remove comments that violate our code of conduct. No comment may contain potentially libelous statements; obscene, explicit or racist language; personal attacks, insults or threats. Terms of Service
Jcsweeney wrote on Jul 30, 2008 3:10 PM: