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The Artisan Jewish Deli at Home

Page 14

by Nick Zukin


  Makes about 1¼ cups

  In autumn, fresh peppers of all shapes and sizes flood the farmers’ markets. That makes this schmear ideal when the leaves are in full color and the days begin to shorten.

  1 (8-ounce) package cream cheese, at room temperature

  ½ cup coarsely chopped Roasted Red Peppers

  1 large shallot, finely grated (about 1 tablespoon)

  2 tablespoons chopped fresh flat-leaf parsley

  1 teaspoon freshly squeezed lemon juice

  ¼ teaspoon kosher salt

  In the bowl of a stand mixer fitted with the whisk attachment, or in a medium bowl using a handheld electric mixer, whip the cream cheese on medium speed until it is light and creamy, about 2 minutes. Scrape down the sides of the bowl as needed. Add the roasted red peppers, shallot, parsley, lemon juice, and salt to the cream cheese and beat to combine, about 30 seconds. Taste and adjust the seasoning. Transfer to a covered container and refrigerate for at least 1 hour, and preferably overnight, to allow the flavors to meld. Store the schmear in the refrigerator for up to 4 days.

  Smoked Salmon Schmear

  Makes about 1½ cups

  This is not—we repeat, not—the redheaded stepchild of the classic lox and cream cheese bagel ensemble. Unlike premium-priced lox, the flakiness of smoked salmon lends itself perfectly to a cream cheese blend.

  1 (8-ounce) package cream cheese, at room temperature

  3 ounces smoked salmon, flaked with a fork

  ¼ cup thinly sliced scallions

  2 teaspoons freshly squeezed lemon juice

  Pinch of kosher salt

  In the bowl of a stand mixer fitted with the whisk attachment, or in a medium bowl using a handheld electric mixer, whip the cream cheese on medium speed until it is light and creamy, about 2 minutes. Scrape down the sides of the bowl as needed. Add the flaked salmon, scallions, lemon juice, and salt to the cream cheese in the bowl. Beat until combined, about 30 seconds. Taste and adjust the salt, if needed. Transfer to a covered container and refrigerate for at least 1 hour, and preferably overnight, to allow the flavors to meld. Store the schmear in the refrigerator for up to 4 days.

  Loxter Roll

  Makes 4 rolls

  If the ability to update and playfully adapt traditional Jewish delicatessen dishes is the hallmark of today’s modern artisan delis, this dish from Mile End epitomizes that ethos. Lox with bagel, cream cheese, and accompaniments is a foundational Jewish deli menu item. These tasty filled rolls are about as distant from the traditional presentation as can be. Inspired by the Maine-style lobster roll, Mile End’s Loxter Rolls are at once a simple-to-throw-together, summer-on–Cape Cod lunch and a great practical way to use up the last of the lox left over from Sunday brunch. If you need to use up a batch of Gravlax, it can be substituted for the lox. One of our testers recommends “a nice, off-dry Riesling” with these rolls. Why not?

  8 ounces lox or Gravlax, cut into ¼-inch pieces

  ¼ cup mayonnaise, preferably homemade

  ¼ cup finely diced celery

  2 tablespoons finely diced red onion

  1 tablespoon plus 1 teaspoon finely chopped fresh dill

  4 potato hot dog buns, split lengthwise

  2 tablespoons unsalted butter, melted

  ¼ cup finely diced pickled red peppers

  In a small bowl, gently mix the lox, mayonnaise, celery, red onion, and 1 tablespoon of the dill. Take care not to mash the lox.

  Heat a large skillet over medium heat. Brush the outsides, top and bottom, of each bun with the butter. Toast both sides of the buns in the hot skillet until golden brown, 1 to 2 minutes per side. Fill each bun with the lox mixture, dividing it evenly. Garnish with the remaining 1 teaspoon dill and the pickled red peppers. Serve immediately.

  Bagels and Lox

  Serves 4

  Seemingly any round-shaped bread that holds a sandwich filling suffices as a “bagel” these days. And while the authenticity of these modern rolls with holes can be criticized, it’s hard to argue with their mass appeal. Still, in the realm of traditional Jewish deli craft, there is nothing as simple and satisfying as a proper bagel topped with first-quality cream cheese, a few silky slices of lox, and an array of complementary accompaniments. Though we recommend our Traditional Bagels, if you must use the bigger, softer ones (or day-olds), toast the halves first and allow them to cool for 5 minutes before using. Thinly sliced cucumbers and heirloom tomatoes can be added to the ensemble when in season.

  4 bagels, halved

  ¾ cup cream cheese, at room temperature

  16 slices lox (about 12 ounces)

  ½ cup drained and loosely packed Pickled Red Onions

  3 tablespoons drained capers

  3 tablespoons chopped fresh dill

  Freshly ground black pepper

  Spread the cut sides of each bagel half with cream cheese and add 2 slices lox. Distribute the remaining ingredients evenly over the lox in the following order: pickled onions, capers, and dill. Sprinkle with black pepper and serve immediately, open-face.

  Chapter 5

  With this chapter, you have reached the delectable heart of the Jewish delicatessen. Ask ten people what one menu item truly defines the deli, and the answer will almost certainly be some type of smoked or cured meat. Several recipes that fill the bill are included here. Our personal favorite is pastrami, which can be made as a home-oven version (see here) or by using a backyard barbecue or smoker (see here). Other deli aficionados will surely select corned beef (see here), which in many ways is a simplified, mellower version of pastrami. Though these cured meat recipes tend to be a bit more involved than most, the payoff is handsome: no need to fork over big money for something you can make at home—assuming you can buy something that even begins to approach the hand crafted quality of your very own deli meats.

  Throughout this book, we have showcased several classic deli dishes, but supplemented them with seasonal variations so that the finest local ingredients of the moment can make the recipes sing year-round. Four versions of the humble brisket pot roast are included in this chapter (see here and here). If you ever thought summer just wasn’t the right time for a family-size chunk of slow-braised beef, then you have never tasted one with a sunny attitude that includes tomato, fennel, lots of herbs, and even a touch of beer.

  While perusing the next pages, please do your part to help maintain the modern revival of old-line Jewish deli craft. If ever there was an obscure deli dish worthy of a comeback, it is the old-country stuffed derma (beef intestine) creation known as kishke , as offered to us by dedicated new-wave Toronto deli man Zane Caplansky. This fantastic dish will forever dispel your fear of what David Letterman jokingly refers to as “variety meats.”

  There’s a whole lot more here, too. For those inclined to skip the hearty, meaty dishes offered in this chapter, we laud your sentiments (and goodness knows, we could lose a few pounds), but in the true community spirit of the traditional Jewish deli, we urge you to consider making these great-tasting, traditional foods for a special occasion to share with your extended family and dearest friends. It would be a mitzvah (loosely translated from Hebrew as “an act of charity”).

  Corned Beef

  Makes 2 to 3 pounds

  If there’s one deli meat that’s universally known and mostly loved, it is corned beef. Though Jews and Irish can argue over who first popularized the stuff, no one can dispute that it’s simple to prepare and makes a great sandwich and accompaniment to cabbage or eggs. It also serves admirably as the meaty component in hash alongside potatoes and onions. Corned beef even has a special place in the trivia books: In 1965, a corned beef sandwich was smuggled into space by astronaut John Young on the flight of Gemini 3, making corned beef the only deli meat ever to have orbited the earth. You, too, can eat like an astronaut by following the brining and boiling steps described in this recipe.

&nbs
p; Brine

  2 cups Diamond Crystal (or other large-crystal) kosher salt

  ¼ cup (2 ounces) pink salt (see Sources and Resources)

  1 cup granulated sugar

  ½ cup firmly packed dark or light brown sugar

  ¼ cup honey

  2 tablespoons pickling spice

  1 tablespoon whole coriander seeds

  1 tablespoon whole yellow mustard seeds

  4 cloves garlic, minced

  Meat

  3 to 4 pounds beef brisket

  1 tablespoon pickling spice

  1 tablespoon whole coriander seeds

  1 tablespoon whole yellow mustard seeds

  ¼ cup kosher salt

  To make the brine, fill a medium to large stockpot with 3 quarts water. Add the kosher and pink salts, granulated and brown sugars, honey, pickling spice, coriander and mustard seeds, and garlic. Bring to a boil over high heat, stirring often to fully dissolve the salt and sugar. Once the brine boils, immediately remove the pot from the heat. Add 3 quarts ice water to a 2-gallon or larger food-safe container that will fit into your home refrigerator. Pour the brine into the container and place the container, uncovered, in the refrigerator until completely cool.

  To brine the brisket, trim the fat from the brisket until the fat layer is about ¼ inch thick. Submerge the brisket in the cooled brine, cutting it into two pieces, if needed, to submerge it. Allow the brisket to brine for 5 days, flipping it daily top to bottom and stirring the brine. Make sure that if any of the brisket pieces are touching one another they are turned regularly to eliminate the contact and that all surfaces of the brisket are exposed to the brine.

  To cook the brisket, remove the meat from the brine and thoroughly rinse it. Discard the brine. Add 2 gallons water, the brisket, pickling spice, coriander and mustard seeds, and salt to a large pot. Place the pot over high heat and bring to a light boil. Cook uncovered for 2 to 3 hours, until the beef reaches an internal temperature of 200°F and is quite tender and easily punctured with a fork. A ¼-inch-thick slice of fully cooked corned beef should pull apart easily.

  To serve, carve the corned beef into ¼-inch-thick slices, or cut as thin as possible without the meat falling apart. Keep tightly wrapped in aluminum foil or plastic wrap in the fridge for up to 1 week or frozen for up to 6 months.

  What Is . . .

  Pastrami?

  A few years ago, I had my first taste of pastrami at its very best. It was lavishly smoked, salty with a hint of sweetness, not quite too fatty, and a deep blush hue. The cut of beef from which it was crafted, a section of the brisket called the deckle, was rubbed with crushed coriander and black pepper, among a pantry of other spices. After brining, rubbing, and smoking, a process that unfolds over several days, the pastrami still had to be steamed before serving. The end result: tender, juicy meat, awaiting a few deft flicks of a sharp knife to cascade in thin leaves and be gathered between mustard-lacquered slices of rye bread.

  This pastrami was a revelation, I thought. It had only a name in common with the rubbery, characterless packaged products sold at the grocery store and in too many indifferent restaurants. It had far more in common with the kind of pastrami that had largely passed into history, as I have since learned.

  Pastrami has Eastern European roots in Romania. It made its way there with the Ottoman Empire. The Ottoman Turks followed the practice of drying and salt-curing meat, then rubbing it with a spice paste. This preserved meat resembling beef jerky was called basturma. Romanian Jews tinkered with the recipe, commonly substituting goose for more expensive beef.

  Pastrami did not evolve to peak form until the Jewish migrations to America. David Sax, author of Save the Deli, recounted in a November 2010 Saveur magazine article that once the Ashkenazic Jews arrived in New York City’s Lower East Side, “beef was more plentiful and replaced goose as the protein of choice, and pastrami started to be served hot, as a sandwich, so that the local garment workers could eat it on the job.” Gil Marks, in his Encyclopedia of Jewish Foods, explains another characteristic of peak pastrami: “In the late nineteenth century, the advent of refrigeration allowed for the use of a weaker salt brine for curing, leading to the development of the softer form of pastrami.” With these refinements, it’s no wonder pastrami became the sovereign of deli meats by the early twentieth century.

  Almost as quickly, this paragon of protein retreated, beset by the labor-intensive process it took to make it and the dubious wonders of modern technology that predominate even today—think brine injectors and liquid smoke. My parents and grandparents may have considered this progress, but now many of us know that mass production and clever marketing are no substitute for time and careful attention to detail.

  The batch of great pastrami I sampled a few years ago was made by a couple of guys who sold the stuff at the farmers’ market under

  the fitting name Pastrami King. They were Ken Gordon and Nick Zukin, who went on to open Kenny & Zuke’s. The founders of the other artisan delis celebrated in this book were simultaneously pioneering similar efforts. The old, slow ways of pastrami making have been enjoying a tasteful revival ever since.

  —MCZ

  Home-Oven Pastrami

  Makes 3 to 4 pounds

  Delicatessen aficionados might cringe at the idea of making pastrami in the oven, since wood smoking is supposed to be the customary cooking method. At least that’s what they think. In truth, some of the most lauded pastrami and smoked meat involve no wood smoke at all. In his must-read chronicle, Save the Deli, David Sax reveals that the smoky flavor in commercially produced pastrami comes from fat dripping down and sizzling on the gas element of the large ovens that are used.

  This recipe begins with the same cured (“corned”) beef brisket as in our Backyard Barbecue Pastrami. But here, the brisket is steam-roasted until tender, avoiding the more complex process required to make the barbecued version. Smoked paprika adds its elemental flavor without getting in the way of the traditional coriander and black pepper seasonings. The process to create this deli classic is time-consuming: 5 days to brine plus 3 to 4 hours to cook. But trust us, your patience will be rewarded.

  Brine

  2 cups Diamond Crystal (or other large-crystal) kosher salt

  ¼ cup (2 ounces) pink salt (see Sources and Resources)

  1 cup granulated sugar

  ½ cup firmly packed dark or light brown sugar

  ¼ cup honey

  2 tablespoons pickling spice

  1 tablespoon whole coriander seeds

  1 tablespoon whole yellow mustard seeds

  4 cloves garlic, minced

  3 to 4 pounds beef brisket

  Spice Rub

  ¼ cup ground coriander

  2 tablespoons freshly ground black pepper

  2 tablespoons smoked paprika

  To make the brine, fill a medium to large stockpot with 3 quarts water. Add the kosher and pink salts, granulated and brown sugars, honey, pickling spice, coriander and mustard seeds, and garlic. Bring to a boil over high heat, stirring often to fully dissolve the salt and sugar in the water. Immediately remove the pot from the heat once the brine boils.

  Add 3 quarts ice-cold water to a 2-gallon or larger food-safe container that will fit in your refrigerator. Pour the brine into the container and place the container, uncovered, in the refrigerator until completely cool.

  Trim the fat from the brisket until the fat layer is about ¼ inch thick. Submerge the brisket in the cooled brine, cutting it into two pieces, if needed, to submerge it.

  Allow the brisket to brine for 5 days, flipping it daily top to bottom and stirring the brine. Make sure that if any of the brisket sides are touching one another you regularly turn them away from each other to expose all of the sides to the brine.

  To cook the brisket, pour 4 cups water into the bottom of a 12 by 15-inch roasting pan. Set a ra
ck inside the pan and place the brisket on the rack, fatty side down.

  To make the spice rub, mix together the coriander, pepper, and paprika in a small bowl. Evenly rub ¼ cup of the mixture onto the top of the brisket, then flip the brisket and rub the remaining spice mixture onto the fatty side. Allow the brisket to come to room temperature, about 2 hours.

  Preheat the oven to 300°F with a rack low enough to fit the pan holding the brisket. Tightly cover the brisket and pan with a double layer of aluminum foil. Bake until the meat reaches an internal temperature of 200°F, about 1 hour per pound, or 3 to 4 hours total.

  Without trimming the fat, carve the pastrami into ¼-inch-thick slices, or cut as thin as possible without the meat falling apart. Keep tightly wrapped in aluminum foil or plastic wrap in the fridge for up to 1 week or frozen for up to 6 months.

  Backyard Barbecue Pastrami

  Makes 3 to 4 pounds

  While this pastrami takes more time to produce than the Home-Oven Pastrami, the resulting depth of flavor makes it worth the extra effort. With the wide variety of smokers and barbecue grills available on the market, we can only offer general instructions on how to perfect this superior pastrami. As with all successful meat smoking, the key is low and slow.

  Brine

  2 cups Diamond Crystal (or other large crystal) kosher salt

  ¼ cup (2 ounces) pink salt (see Sources and Resources)

  1 cup granulated sugar

  ½ cup packed dark or light brown sugar

  ¼ cup honey

  2 tablespoons pickling spice

  1 tablespoon whole coriander seeds

  1 tablespoon whole yellow mustard seeds

  4 cloves garlic, minced

  3 to 4 pounds beef brisket

  ¼ cup ground coriander

  2 tablespoons freshly ground black pepper

  To make the brine, fill a medium to large stockpot with 3 quarts water. Add the kosher and pink salts, granulated and brown sugars, honey, pickling spice, coriander and mustard seeds, and garlic. Bring to a boil over high heat, stirring often to fully dissolve the salt and sugar in the water. Once the brine boils, immediately remove the pot from the heat.

 

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