1. ispirato il vostro amore per il cibo:

   Non c’é un piatto specifico ma una tradizione culinaria familiare, tramandata da mia mamma e mia nonna. La convivialità in cucina!

2. è la tua firma:

   Oggi, sicuramente il Risotto, diventato il piatto di riferimento del nostro ristorante.

3. cucinate sul tuo notte off:

   Il pesce al cartoccio, che mio figlio adora .

Possiamo avere un ulteriore aiuto?

• Quale potrebbe essere la tua ultima cena?

  Una lasagna alla siciliana e una Sbrisolona con la crema al mascarpone!!!

• Che cosa è il pasto migliore che abbia mai avuto?

  Una cena con mia moglie da Ducasse all’Hotel Plaza Athénée! It was PERFECT!

• Qual è il vostro ristorante preferito che la gente deve sapere?

  La Boccana – Isla Cristina – Huelva – Espana – chef Nicola Grassi e Marta Gonzales – un posto da sogno e loro sono bravissimi.

• Che un ingrediente nuovo devo aggiungere alla mia dispensa e come devo usarlo?

  L’olio d’oliva extra vergine di Cédric Casanova – una delizia del palato.

• Che cosa stai facendo domani sera per cena?

  Non ne ho idea! Vedremo!

Chef, se è possibile fornire una ricetta per uno di questi piatti?

Sbrisolona, crema al mascarpone

375 Farina
300 Mandorle
300 Zucchero
225 Farina di Mais
1/2 stecca di Vaniglia
1 Zest di limone
330 Burro
1 Uovo
2 tuorli

Tritare le mandorle non troppo fini
Mischiare in un bowl la farina, lo zucchero, il burro, la farina di mais, il limone, la vaniglia e le mandorle
Quando il composto comincia a stare insieme, aggiungere le uova
Lasciare riposare una mezz’ora in frigo.
Stendere questo composto su una teglia da forna come se fosse un crumble.
Cuocere in forno a 180°C per 25 min circa.

Per la crema
250 gr di mascarpone
250 gr di panna liqyuida
5 uova
100 gr di zucchero
1/2 stecca di vaniglia

Montare le uova con lo zucchero e la vaniglia
A parte montare la panna con il mascarpone
Unire i due composti e mettre in frigo per un’ora almeno

Servire la sbrisolona con la crema al mascarpone a parte

1. inspired your love of food:

   That’s a hard one because I love food so much. There isn’t one dish but there is one cuisine, and that is Goan food. Goan was a constant at home twice a week. So the oxtail curry, the potroast my mom would make, the Goan shrimp and fish curry, the eating of crab curry, xacutti (made with older male chicken or goat with toasted spices). Xacutti is one of my favorite Goan dishes.

2. is your signature:

   I have so many dishes that have become “us”, but sweet, sour, spicy and bitter with various textures is my signature. So my food is very textural.

3. you cook on your night off:

   My night off normally is dictated by what the kids want to eat. Saturdays is wine night at home, so depending on what bottle we want to open, that is what we cook. But it tends to be steak.

Can we have an extra helping?

• What would be your last supper?

  My last supper would be mutton xacutti with steamed basmati rice.

• What is the best meal you have ever had?

  At Pierre Gagnaire in Paris.

• What is your idea of comfort food?

  Braised oxtails that we do at Tabla.

• Fill in the blanks: If I go to [blank], I must have the [blank].

  Singapore, hainanese chicken rice.

• What is your favorite restaurant that people should know about?

  Chengdu 23. It is owned by a family and they make the best Szechuanese food. It is in Cedar Grove, New Jersey on Route 23. It is really really good.

• What one new ingredient should I add to my pantry and how should I use it?

  Coriander seeds. You can make a great curry, marinade out of it, toast it and use it on salads.

• What are you making tomorrow night for dinner?

  Tomorrow night I will be working so it depends on what my wife wants to make.

Chef, can you share a recipe for one of these dishes?

Sweet Spiced Oxtails From One Spice, Two Spice

Serves 6

Sweet Spiced Oxtails

Our family used to buy oxtails from a street vendor called “Liver Andrew”. They were absolutely fresh-and absolutely delicious. We loved this inexpensive cut with rich flavor and meltingly tender texture when braised for a couple of hours. Like any braised meat dish, the sauce is as important as the meat itself. Here I like to strain the sauce, reduce it, then recombine it with the braised oxtails and finish them off in the oven, basting them frequently with the reduced sauce. The sweet beefiness deepens, and the sauce given the oxtails a beautiful sheen. Like most braises, this one is best if made ahead of time.

For The Spice Blend
6 cloves
1 cinnamon stick, broken in half
1 teaspoon black peppercorns
1 tablespoon coriander seeds
2 tablespoons cumin seeds
1 ½ tablespoons brown mustard seeds
1 small dried red chile
½ teaspoon ground turmeric
½ teaspoon cayenne

For The Oxtails
4 pounds oxtails
Kosher salt and freshly ground black pepper
¼ cup canola oil
4 cups coarsely chopped white onion
10 unpeeled garlic cloves, cut in half crosswise
2 cups chopped celery
2 cups chopped carrot
¼ cup sliced peeled ginger
1 cup dry red wine
¼ cup tomato paste
2 tablespoons dark brown sugar
¼ cup plus 2 tablespoons red wine vinegar
Six 4-inch thyme sprigs
Two 5-inch rosemary sprigs
2 bay leaves

Finely grind the cloves, cinnamon, peppercorns, coriander seeds, cumin seeds, mustard seeds, and chile together in an electric coffee/spice grinder. Combine the ground spices with the turmeric and cayenne in a small bowl.

Preheat the oven to 375F.

Season the oxtails generously with salt and pepper and then let them sit for 10 minutes.

Heat the oil in a heavy ovenproof 6-to-8 quart pot over moderately high heat until it shimmers and sear the oxtails on all sides until browned, about 18 minutes. (Don’t rush through this step even though it’s a bit fussy, as oxtails are oddly shaped. The carmelization is the secret to a deeply flavored braise.) If the bottom of the pot looks like it’s getting too dark, reduce the heat to moderate. Transfer the oxtails to a platter.

Add the onion, garlic, celery, carrot, and ginger to the (uncleaned) pot and cook, stirring, until the vegetables are softened and the onions are lightly browned, about 10 minutes. Stir the ¼ cup of the wine into the spice blend and stir that into the vegetables. Stir in the tomato paste, and then cook the vegetables for 2 minutes longer. Stir in the rest of the wine and the brown sugar.

Return the oxtails and their juices from the platter to the pot and add 6 cups water. Add 1 tablespoon salt along with the vinegar, thyme, rosemary, and bay leaves.

Bring the braised liquid to a boil, then tightly cover the pot with a lid or foil. Put the oxtails in the middle of the oven and braise them for 2 to 2 ½ hours, or until fork-tender.

Transfer the oxtails to a large bowl. Strain the braising liquid through a sieve into the bowl, pressing hard on the solids with the back of a ladle, and discard the solids. Skim the fat from the strained liquid. You should have 1 ½ to 2 cups sauce left; if you have more, bring it to a boil in a 2-quart pan and reduce until you have 1 ½ to 2 cups left. Pour the sauce over the oxtails and then let them cool, uncovered. Refrigerate the cooled oxtails, covered, for 1 day.

Preheat the oven to 375F.

Remove and discard any congealed fat from the braising liquid. Return the oxtails and sauce to the same (cleaned) 6-to-8 quart pot and bring to a boil. Transfer the pot to the middle of the oven. Cook the oxtails, basting them with the sauce every 5 minutes, for 25 to 30 minutes, or until the oxtails are hot and the sauce is the consistency of syrup.

1. inspired your love of food:

   It was a series of dishes, actually, including boiled calf’s tongue, roast chicken with potatoes and carrots, “prezeleh” (poppy seed covered bialy) and all the other earthy, rustic, beautiful foods my grandmother used to prepare for me when I was a teenager. A Jewish immigrant from Poland, she arrived to Brooklyn late in life, and could only converse in Yiddish and Polish, which I didn’t speak. So food became our common language. She’d cook for me every other Sunday; as I tucked in, she’d just watch me and smile. That was enough. Those unforgettable afternoons taught me what food really meant — not just the dish, but the love and soul that goes into it. I always try to remember that when I write my stories. By the way, after my grandmother passed away, I discovered that back in Poland she raised turkeys on the roof of her tenement and built a still in her apartment to make slivovitz, plum brandy, her favorite hootch. What a cool lady.

2. is your signature:

   I don’t have one, per se, but your question got me thinking about the idea of signature dishes in Japanese cuisine. I’m a reporter who’s been writing about Japanese food and studying how to cook it for a number of years. I just returned from spending three months training in restaurant kitchens in Tokyo and the city of Fukuoka. Aside from being unbelievably awestruck by how hard and intensely the chefs I met there worked, what really blew me away was the breadth of dishes they cooked — literally hundreds of different preparations. There wasn’t one signature dish at these fine restaurants, the cooking kept changing along with the seasons, sometimes even day by day. So it seemed to me that the sense or feeling of the restaurant itself became its signature. I love this notion in Japanese gastronomy.

3. you cook on your night off:

   Not everything I cook is Japanese, of course. Roasting a whole chicken in a terra cotta cazuela, a bird I let sit salted and loosely covered in the fridge for a day or two to concentrate its flavor, then slip lemon peel and rosemary sprigs under the skin and in the cavity before cooking, well, how can you beat that?

Can we have an extra helping?

• What one new ingredient should I add to my pantry and how should I use it?

  Yuzu kosho. A marriage of fiery chilies and tangy, fragrant Japanese yuzu citrus zest and juice, this amazing condiment is super versatile — pair it with salt-grilled chicken, meat or fish, or dab a little into a broth-based food or soup to add an irresistible aromatic kick. I love yuzu kosho and always keep bottles of both the red and green versions handy in my fridge. It lasts for months. (Red is more rounded, for fish, while green is sharper, better for chicken and meat.)

Harris, can you share a recipe for one of these dishes?

Grilled Chicken with Yuzu Kosho

Serves 4.

Debone four chicken legs and thighs (or buy them already deboned) and salt liberally. (I like to use arajio, Japanese sea salt that’s still damp with brine, which has incredibe mineraly flavor.) Grill on a barbecue or broil in an oven until the chicken’s ready. Slice into bite-sized pieces and serve with green yuzu kosho on the side. Eat the chicken together with the yuzu kosho. Amazing.

1. inspired your love of food:

   Stuffed blue fish with root vegetables and red rice

2. is your signature:

   Lamb shank with millet couscous, dates and white beans

3. you cook on your night off:

   Hamburger

Can we have an extra helping? (Or two, or three?)

1. What would be your last supper?

   My aunt’s duck casserole

2. What is the best meal you have ever had?

   Rice and smoked oysters from Casamance

3. What is your idea of comfort food?

   Seafood gumbo with lots of crabmeat and okra

4. What is your favorite restaurant that people should know about?

   Le Grand-Dakar

5. What one new ingredient should I add to my pantry and how should I use it?

   Asian fish sauce to use in very little doses in stews, sauces or marinades.

6. What are you making tomorrow night for dinner?

   Cornish hen farci au fonio

Chef, can you share a recipe for one of these dishes?

Cornish Hen Farci au Fonio

2 cups fonio
1 tablespoon salt dissolved in ¼ cup water
2 tablespoons unsalted butter
Salt, to taste
1 carrot, peeled and cut into ½ inch cubes
1 cup shelled green peas
1 cup corn kernels
4 Cornish hens, about 1 to 2 pounds each
2 tablespoons rof (recipe below)
4 tablespoons Dijon mustard
2 tablespoons white vinegar
2 cups peanut oil
1 onion, julienned
2 green bell peppers, julienned
2 cups water

Serves 4

1. To prepare the fonio, wash the grains with running cold water and drain well. Place the fonio in the top of a steamer lined with cheesecloth. Set over simmering water, cover, and steam, about 15 minutes. Remove from heat and fluff with a fork. Drizzle with salted water and return the fonio to the steamer basket and steam again until the grains are tender. (Alternatively, fonio can be prepared in a microwave by adding enough water to cover in a bowl and cooking until tender, 6 to 8 minutes.) Add the butter and fold into the cooked fonio.

2. Meanwhile, place a pot of water over high heat. When it comes to a boil, add salt. Cook the vegetables separately just until tender—the carrots of 15 minutes, the peas for 5 minutes, and the corn for 5 minutes. Drain well and combine the cooked vegetables with the steamed fonio. Set aside.

3. With the tip of a sharp knife, cut a few incisions in the Cornish hens and stuff with some rof. Mix together with the remaining rof, mustard, and vinegar. Season the birds with this mixture. Stuff the cavity of each hen with the fonio, reserving the remaining fonio for serving. Secure with toothpicks or sew with kitchen thread.

4. In a pot large enough to hold the Cornish hens in a single layer, heat the oil and brown the hens for 15 minutes to a nice golden color. Remove the birds from the pot into a bowl. Pour off all but about 2 tablespoons oil from the pot.

5. Reheat the oil over medium heat. Add the onions and green pepper, stirring until softened but not browned. Return the hens and accumulated juice to the pot along with 2 cups water. Bring to a boil and reduce. Season with salt. Simmer, covered, for about 20 minutes. Serve with the reduced fonio and vegetables, along with the sauce from the cooking pot.

Rof

Rof, pronounced “rawf,” is a popular condiment in Senegal, commonly used to stuff fish.

1 bunch parsley, coarsely chopped
1 habanero pepper, stemmed and coarsely chopped
3 garlic cloves
1 onion, chopped, or a small bunch of scallions, white parts only, chopped
1 bay leaf, crumbled
Salt and freshly ground black pepper

Makes about 1 cup

1. Place all the ingredients in a food processor and process coarsely, or pound by hand in a mortar and pestle.