I Like Moose Buns and I Cannot Lie

You don't have to braise all the indecipherable cuts of moose from the freezer.  Get your steamers ready, folks.

Steamed moose buns are a great bit of Canadian-Asian fusion to help us through the terrible Newfoundland season of winter-spring (@littleredchicken #StealingYourBonMots).  Great lunch or appetizer.  Even breakfast, why not?

Fefe's Steamed Moose Buns

inspired by The Woks of Life; dough adapted from AmyBites

This is a two day project.  Or an all day project.  Whichever way, it is time consuming. HOWEVER, you will end up making a massive supply of buns for your freezer.  The effort you put in up front will pay itself back in gold when you are wandering around the kitchen complaining that there's no food, only ingredients... but then you remember the moose buns.  In almost no time at all you'll be having the best lunch in town.

for the filling

The cat is generally less concerned about what cut this is.

1-1/2 lbs moose* (to yield a little more than 1-1/4 lbs after cleaning)
1-1/2 tbsp + 1 tbsp lard 
1/4 tsp salt
1 tbsp five spice powder
5-8 carrots (8 ordinary ones; Fefe only used 5 because two were "honking great things"), grated
6 spring onions, finely sliced
2 fresh chilies**, finely diced
1 tbsp soy sauce
4 tbsp mirin

If you live in a place where hot peppers are unpredictably
available, buy them when you can find them and toss any
you can't use right away into the freezer.  From frozen, you
can grate them into hot pepper snow with a microplane (or
just chop like you would fresh and carry on).

2 tbsp fish sauce
1 tbsp sesame oil
1 tbsp hoisin sauce
1 tbsp honey
1 tbsp white vinegar (if you haven't run out of rice vinegar like we did, use that!)

*if you don't have moose, you can substitute venison, goat or beef for a similar flavour, but then you have to call them Mock-Moose Buns...

**or BETTER, use frozen ones and grate them into hot chili snow with a microplane (we learned this trick from Jamie Oliver, it's brilliant)

for the dough

1-1/3 c milk
1/2 c butter
1/2 c sugar
2 tbsp water
3 tsp active dry yeast
2 eggs, beaten
6 c all-purpose flour

To make the filling, cut the moose away from the bone***, and clean it really well, removing all the gristle and as much fat as possible.  Mince by chopping really finely then blasting with a food processor or if you have such a thing as a meat grinder, go ahead and use it.  (If you have pre-ground meat, that's okay too.)

***DO NOT THROW AWAY THE BONES.  Use these to make some beautiful soup stock.

Clean the moose very well, chop finely and then blitz with
your food processor.  Or, if you are so lucky as to have a
meat grinder, use it.

Heat 1-1/2 tbsp lard in a skillet.  Brown the moose with the and five spice powder, then remove to a large heatproof bowl and set aside.  Add another 1 tbsp lard to the pan and saute the carrots, onion, and chilies until soft.  Add the carrot mixture to the moose and stir together with the remaining filling ingredients.

Make the filling a day ahead if you can.  If you have to make
it the same day, let it cool as much as possible before filling.

The colder the filling is, the easier it is to work with.  So if you can make it a day ahead and refrigerate overnight, do that.  Otherwise, cool it as well as possible.

To make the dough, heat the milk and butter together in a saucepan until the butter is melted.  Set aside.  Mix the yeast with water and let sit to soften, about 5 minutes.  When this 5 minutes is up, combine the milk mixture, yeast mixture, sugar and egg.

Sift the flour into a large mixing bowl (or the the bowl of a full sized food processor), reserving about a 1/4 cup in case you don't need it.  Slowly pour in the milk mixture, stirring constantly (or pulsing the food processor) until the dough comes together in a big sticky ball.  It should be sticky, but look like a ball... if it's shaggy, add more flour as needed.

Turn the dough out onto a floured surface and knead for about 5 minutes.  Put the dough in an oiled bowl, cover with a damp tea towel and let rise in a warm place for about an hour.

After the dough is risen, punch down and divide into quarters.  Work with one quarter at a time.  You have a lot of buns to make, this will help it be less overwhelming...

To stuff the moose buns, line 4 baking sheets with parchment (or some combination of baking sheets, serving trays and plates****).   Punch down the dough and divide into quarters.  Working with one quarter at a time (keeping the remaining dough covered), break dough into 12 fairly even pieces about the size of ping pong balls (so, a total of 48 buns by the time you are done with it).  Form each section into a ball, then roll into a circle about 1/4" thick.

****You will want freeze any uncooked buns for another day, so consider freezer safe-ness when choosing these.  Freeze them like you would berries or meatballs, in a single layer until frozen then transfer to a freezer bag or other airtight container. 

The trick is to get the right amount of moose filling.  Too
much and it will squish out the top; too little and you will
feel deprived.

Spoon some moose filling (about a tbsp) into the center of the dough. It's a matter of getting a feel for the ratio of filling to bun.  You want as much delicious moose stuffing as possible without risking not being able to close the dough up.  If you have the time and interest, you can spend a great deal of it looking at the miracle of the internet to find beautiful, intricate and traditional ways of folding up and sealing the bun.  Fefe simply draws up the edges and smooshes***** them together at the top.  Let the filled buns rest for 20-30 minutes before cooking or freezing.

*****That's the technical term, just ask her.

To cook the moose buns, prepare your steamer if necessary.  We make our stainless steel steaming basket non-stick by lining it with vented parchment.  Take a piece of parchment paper big enough to cover the bottom and sides of the steamer and cut it into a snowflake.  Bring a couple of inches of water in the bottom of your steaming pan to a boil, reduce heat to moderate the vigor of the boil but keep it high enough to have a good constant steam.

If you don't have a non-stick steamer, you can make it non-stick by lining it with a parchment paper snowflake.  This is a good job for the kids.

Gently place the buns in your steamer, leaving some space in between to allow for expansion.  Put the steamer over the boiling water, stick a tight-fitting lid on it, and cook for 12 minutes (15 minutes if cooking from frozen). The buns are done when the dough is expanded and soft but firm enough they don't hold a finger indentation.

Serve with sriracha or other garlicky hot sauce for dipping.

~~~

I started writing this blog post before Fefe finished making the moose buns.  She spent several minutes telling me how clever she was mixing half-batches of the dough in our teensy tiny mini-chopper that we pretend is as good as a full sized food processor.  I just heard her swear.  It seems the motor may be blown out.

What Fefe Noir did (left) was break the mini-chopper.  What worked better on the following recipe test (right), was to go old-school and use a bit of elbow grease.

~~~

Food supplies in grocery stores have been a bit unpredictable lately because it's been a hard year for ice... sea ice delays ferries and grocery shelves become empty.  Strangely, not just empty of exotic off-season foods like tomatoes and broccoli but also of ordinary things we can actually raise on this island, like pork and beef.  Meat has to come in from away because the big chain grocery stores won't carry meat that isn't inspected and graded and the only federally licensed slaughterhouse in Newfoundland and Labrador is for chicken.  I will admit to not fully understanding the problem, except to know that it's obvious something is broken.  I am not convinced that federally registered abattoirs is the answer; centralization increases the scale of contamination risk, drives up prices for the producer which can be a disincentive to raise livestock, and it can create a very troublesome gap between husbandry and slaughter.  Clearly, we need better support for agriculture in this province, from policy and from consumers in order to gain a scale of production that could reduce our dependence on that very unreliable chain of transportation.

But I digress.

Forget the beef, pork and Australian lamb marooned in the ice on the Cabot Strait.  The lack of meat on store shelves is only part of what has many of us digging to the bottom of our freezers and thawing out bits of ignored meat.  Like the goat we forgot we had, or that packet of moose that keeps getting put back after staring at it long enough to realize you haven't got the foggiest idea what part of the moose that was.  It's also nearing the end of winter.  We ate the easy stuff already.

This recipe makes a lot of steamed buns, but just freeze the
excess.  They cook from frozen in just 15 minutes when
you need a quick meal.

I know I say this every time we cook moose, but we have a lot of indecipherable cuts in the freezer. It seemed unlikely that the cast-off moose would include t-bone.  On the other hand, I hate to underestimate the generosity our friends and neighbours.  But probably blade roast cut like a steak?  With a slice of round? What do you call the picnic shoulder on a moose?

Here's some good news: you don't have to braise every uncertainty from the freezer. It's a good rule for unknown cuts, but you can also guarantee tenderness by mincing it.  And if you make something really delicious, you won't have to worry about maybe wasting a good steak.

These buns are a good project for April (or whatever time of year represents the dregs of winter where you live).  You won't really have time to make them once you start your outdoor-season projects, and you won't have to find something to fill an entire day or two consecutive afternoons once the weather improves.  Make them on a day when you are feeling stir crazy.  Cook them from frozen on days when it's taken you twice as long as expected to get home from work due to a late-season ice storm. Or when you are feeling listless from depression caused by the never-ending winter.

Serve the steamed moose buns with sriracha sauce, or other lovely garlicky hot sauce.  Mmmmmm.... 

Worth Its Salt Fish

The classic pairing of salt cod and parsnip... turned pub grub.

The classic coupling of salt cod and parsnip becomes a variation on the much-loved meal of fish & chips.

Seed-Crusted Salt Fish with Parsnip & Carrot Chips

for the fish:

salted cod, center loin section, skinned (for each person, a piece about the size of a pack of cards, give or take)
all-purpose flour
egg, beaten
about 1/4 c. each sunflower seeds and pumpkin seeds (hulled) for every 2-3 pieces of fish


for the chips:

1 carrot per person
2 parsnips per person
ice cubes


oil for frying (peanut and/or sunflower)


for the vinaigrette/ dipping sauce:

1 small shallot
a generous pinch of salt
4 anchovy fillets
1/3 c. balsamic vinegar
juice of 1/2 lemon
3/4 c. good olive oil


TWO OR THREE DAYS BEFORE COOKING

Soak the salt cod in a large bowl of cold water.  Change the water twice a day (more if you think about it more often).  You may have heard that you can speed up the removal of excess salt by boiling the fish, which is true, but it will fall apart... that's okay for fish cakes or brandade, but you want to keep this fish intact; take the time for a cold soak.


A COUPLE OF HOURS BEFORE COOKING

Drain the salt fish and let it sit in a colander or sieve to drain and allow the surface to dry somewhat.

Cut your carrots and parsnips into long, thin sticks (about 5-6 mm wide; closer to an allumette than a julienne).  You want them to be fairly even, but don't get bent out of shape about it; a little variation is good, it means your food will look hand-made.  Anything really badly misshapen can be fed to your dogs as treats.  Put the cut vegetables in a bowl of ice water (mostly ice), and let them sit long enough to curl up a bit.

Cut the carrots and parsnips into sticks, a bit thinner than a snacking carrot stick, but thicker than a julienne.  Soaking them in ice water will give them a bit of a curl. 

Now is a good time to make your vinaigrette.  This will make way more than you need for your salt fish but don't worry about leftovers, you'll use them (salad dressing, drizzle for lamb chops, mixed into lean ground meat for burgers, sauce for steamed or poached fish, dip for fresh bread...). 

Roughly mince the shallot.  Sprinkle with a pinch of salt and use the blade or handle of your knife to press or grind the shallot into a paste on your chopping board.  (If you have a mortar and pestle, feel free to use that fancy high-tech equipment instead.)  Roughly cut anchovy and then work the fish into the shallot paste.  Scrape the paste into a small mixing bowl and whisk in remaining ingredients.  I like vinaigrette to remain separated so I don't whisk to emulsification, just enough to combine well (it looks nicer if you don't mind stirring it up every time you use it).  Let sit at room temperature until serving, allowing the flavours to mingle.


WHEN YOU ARE HUNGRY

Crusting the salt cod with pumpkin and
sunflower seeds is messy, but definitely
worth the effort.

Drain your carrots and parsnips.  

Get out three shallow bowls and a plate.  Line them up on your counter.  Put flour in the first bowl, beat an egg in the second bowl and mix the seeds in the third bowl.

For deep frying, you need the oil deep enough to submerge your food, but you also need to leave a 3-5 cm gap at the top of the pan to accommodate the volume of your food and some bubbling-up.  Choose a pan with this in mind (also paying attention to how much oil you have).  

Heat oil over medium to med-high heat.  The oil is hot when you can see long streaks in it and when bubbles rise up swiftly but not vigorously when you press a wooden spoon handle against the bottom of the pan.  If you refuse to fry without a thermometer, aim for about 365-370F.

Working in batches as necessary, gently lower your carrots and parsnips into the oil and cook until they are a light golden brown (about 6-8 minutes).  (Don't over do it, these are going back in the oil just before eating.) Remove and let them drain in a metal sieve over a heat-proof bowl or spread across brown paper.

While the carrot-parsnip-fries are cooking, crust your fish.  Dredge in flour, then coat with egg.  Let the excess egg drip off, then press the fish firmly into the seeds.  Crust all sides with as much seed as will stick.  Lay flat on the plate.  Crusting the fish is messy and your fingers will feel gross from being stuck with egg and seeds.  If you have someone willing to help, delegate this job to them and be prepared with a bunch of encouraging things to say.  (Don't forget to check your fries once in a while.)

While the carrots and parsnips are draining, cook your fish.  Submerge in the hot oil and cook until the seed crust looks well toasted, about 4 minutes.  Remove to a metal sieve over a heat-proof bowl or drain on brown paper.

While the fish is draining, return the carrots and parsnips to the oil for about 2 minutes.  The golden brown colour should intensify.  Remove to drain.   Salt while they are still piping-hot and toss to coat.

TO SERVE

I am convinced that fish and chips is a meal best shared from a common plate and eaten with your fingers. So cover your table with a few layers of newspaper (lots of layers for this meal, see note) and tip the fries and fish onto the surface.  Whisk your vinaigrette and serve on the side for dipping or use a spoon to drizzle over the fish & chips.

(If you decide to serve on individual plates, put a couple of layers of newsprint or brown paper on the plate.)


NOTES

Salt cod does not taste like fresh cod.  It has more presence.  This fish is fantastically delicious with the earthy crunchy seed crust matching the intensity of the fish... but if you are expecting something like fresh or frozen cod, you'll be too surprised to fully appreciate the dish.

The carrots and parsnips are sweet and punchy with flavour, but oily.  Totally moreish, but be sure to have a thick layer of paper under them.  

~~~

A few years ago, an issue of La Cucina Italiana had a recipe for a seed-crusted salt cod appetizer.  There seemed to be a million different kinds of seeds that we didn't have in the house at the time.  We didn't have salt cod in the house either... it's possible I still thought salt cod was only good for fishcakes then. 

But I loved the idea of it.  I've been thinking about that fish for three years.

Salt cod has a particular cultural importance here in Newfoundland (I might bore you with the history another time, but not now), and you can buy it anywhere.  It's for sale in grocery stores, road side fish trucks, vegetable stands... I've even seen salt cod for sale at gas stations and craft shows.  When we first moved here I couldn't understand why anyone would purposefully choose salted fish over fresh or frozen cod.  It took me a ridiculously long time to overcome my baseless mainlander snobbery around salt fish, but I'm glad I did.

Here's the thing about salt cod: it's not fresh cod.  You can't expect to use them same way.  It's not a choice of salted or fresh, you pick the one you need for the task at hand.  Salt cod is dense and concentrated, and even well-soaked, it bites back; but that's precisely the beauty of it, not the problem.  Making that psychological leap changed everything.   

A couple weeks ago, Fefe Noir heard a radio program mentioning that Romans traditionally paired salt cod with parsnip.  You know that lovely feeling of epiphany, that moment when suddenly everything seems to make sense?  It was like that.  Salty and intense fish matched with the ethereal sweetness of winter parsnip... of course.  Which brings us the second plate in our fish and chips project.