Chapa (Griddle)
A traditional chapa is simply a big, flat piece of tin set over a fire. Its chief virtue is that once you’ve built your fire under it, instead of waiting for your coals to burn down to an ideal cooking temperature, you are ready to cook in minutes, as soon as the chapa is hot. I prefer a chapa made of cast iron. Plancha is the word in Spain for this type of cooking surface, and I use the terms interchangeably.
For more ambitious chapa cooking, if there is someone in your area who makes cast-iron doors, gates, or fences, you could have him make you a chapa big enough for a family cookout. I suggest one 30 by 30 inches set about 12 to 15 inches off the ground. Of course, not everyone has the luxury of space for a chapa; a cast-iron skillet or grill will also do the trick. After you’ve cooked with a chapa for a while, you will learn to “read” the heat of your cast-iron cooking surface. If it develops a white patina, you have really high heat; a uniformly black surface is less hot.
One of the virtues of cast iron is its ability to maintain even heat, because of both its thickness and the dense nature of iron. Whether you are cooking indoors or out with cast iron, give it 5 to 10 minutes of preheating in order to heat all the way through.
Rescoldo (Embers and Ashes)
I originally learned about cooking in embers from Argentine gauchos, who would place some eggs, potatoes, squash, and other vegetables in the embers of their breakfast fires before they went to tend their cattle in the morning. When they returned, the food was cooked. It is so elemental and so simple. I have begun to do fruit this way. Rescoldo oranges are a new favorite and among the most delicious things you can imagine.
People often ask me about the taste of the ashes. If you dust things off well, and if you then peel the skins of whatever vegetables you have cooked, there are no ashes to speak of—although, truthfully, I like the taste of a little ash.
While the gauchos and Indians cooked their rescoldo food in the embers of outdoor fires, a home fireplace works just as well.
Horno (Brick or Clay Oven)
An horno de barro is our version of a wood-burning oven of the kind that more and more North American restaurants are using for pizzas, breads, and roasted meat and fish. Many home cooks have built these ovens in their own backyards. It is a marvelous way to cook: great uniform heat and wood-smoke flavor! All ovens are a little different and all types of wood burn differently, so cooking this way requires a period of practice.
I sometimes call for adjusting the heat during the cooking process. If using a wood-fired oven, you can move the coals and wood around and place the food nearer or farther from the heat to raise or lower the temperature. You can gauge the heat with an infrared oven thermometer. For those of you without a wood-burning oven, I give temperatures and timings for a conventional oven.
Iron: Ancient, Wonderful, Practical
My grill is made of cast iron, as are my chapa and my skillets. There is something comforting about cooking with this ancient material. Our ancestors used it for thousands of years before the advent of steel and aluminum. It is the original nonstick surface (although occasionally I prefer things to stick and tear away; I find the texture more interesting). In my home and restaurant kitchens, copper also has its place, but for the brutal heat and extreme conditions of outdoor cooking, iron is my constant partner.
A grill with heavy cast-iron grates—¼ to ½ inch thick—results in two different types of heat. On the one hand, the food is exposed to radiant heat from the spaces between the iron bars, and on the other, the iron itself heats up to transfer heat evenly and directly to whatever you are cooking.
Although it is nothing more than a flat metal surface, a cast-iron chapa can be a sophisticated cooking tool. Depending on where you pile your coals under different parts of the chapa, you can have warm, hot, and superhot cooking areas simultaneously, which allows you to cook a number of different ingredients at the optimum heat levels: for example, onions over lower heat so that they slowly caramelize; eggs over a medium flame so that they cook through without burning or drying out; a skirt steak over a hotter spot so that it quickly develops a crust without overcooking the interior; and pears over medium-low heat so that their sugars caramelize and intensify the flavor.
To get the best sear or char, always preheat a cast-iron chapa or griddle for 5 to 10 minutes. Cast iron is dense and takes a while to heat up, but once it is hot, it holds the heat and conducts it evenly.
As for cleaning up, I find that cast iron is remarkably easy. I simply set the chapa over a very hot fire, then douse it with water and scrape it with a wire brush or a big spatula (a wide putty knife from the hardware store is perfect for this). Indoors, wipe out any fat with a rag or paper towels and rinse with hot water. If there is burnt-on food residue, use a stiff brush and coarse salt as an abrasive. Dry the pan immediately and give the surface a quick wipe with a lightly oiled paper towel. Never put cast iron in the dishwasher.
Hardwood Lump Charcoal—No Substitutes
For most of the recipes in this book, I grilled over charcoal because that was the most convenient way with my traveling grill, rather than starting with raw wood. I always use hardwood lump charcoal, not those nasty briquettes made of pressed sawdust. Lump charcoal burns like real wood, because it is real chunks of wood that have burned down a bit.
Chimney charcoal starters require only a few pieces of newspaper stuffed in the bottom and a match. No chemicals or other charcoal lighting products. I love them.
HOW HOT IS IT?
If you hold your hand about 4 inches from the cooking surface, you will quickly get a sense of how hot a fire is. Hold your hand above the cooking surface and start counting. If after 2 full seconds it is too hot to keep your hand there, that is high heat. Use the same technique to gauge the heat from any fire, with the timing in the chart below as a guideline.
2 seconds
High heat
3–4 seconds
Medium-high heat
5–6 seconds
Medium heat
7–8 seconds
Medium-low heat
8–12 seconds
Low heat
Don’t rush your count: you want full seconds. We Argentines count “Un matador, dos matadores,” etc. Those whose native language is English go with “One Mississippi, two Mississippi.”
Remember that when you are cooking out of doors, the weather can affect temperature and timing. Wind can blow heat away from the coals or can cause the coals to burn more intensely. Ambient air temperature also comes into play. Things often take longer to cook on cold days.
FEEDING THE FIRE
Think of fire as a love affair of a kind between heat and food. Like real love, it must be nurtured and replenished or the fire will go out and, with it, the passion that inspires our cooking.
One of the main differences between Argentine and North American styles of grilling is that we often add mature coals to the fire for longer cooking, rather than lighting more coals and waiting for them to burn down. The best way to do this is to start some more charcoal in a separate spot (a second grill or any fireproof surface is quite handy for this purpose). Then add the already burning coals to your cooking fire once they are uniformly glowing. Rake the coals into larger piles for high heat, or spread them out evenly for more even lower heat.
If you cook on a kettle-style grill, a hinged grate that lifts on both sides makes it easy to add more coals. But if your grill doesn’t come equipped with a hinged grate, you can simply put on a pair of heavy-duty oven mitts, carefully lift the grate, set it to one side (away from dogs or cats!), and add mature coals to those already in the grill.
HOW MUCH CHARCOAL DO I NEED?
Five pounds of charcoal is certainly enough for a quick steak or some vegetables on the chapa. For anything that requires more time, have more charcoal on hand and ready to go. A three-hour leg of lamb with all the fixings could use up a 20-pound bag. If you do a lot of grilling, keep two 20-pound bags on hand so you won’t get caught
short. At some point, you are going to use them up.
How Long Should It Cook?
Meat varies from animal to animal and cut to cut. A large cut from a lean animal will have less fat in the muscle fibers, so the only way to avoid dry, tough meat is to serve it rare. Wild game, which feeds on grasses, nuts, and berries, gets a lot of exercise and quite often is lean, so it, too, is usually best served rare. But even with free-range animals, like pigs, lamb, and cattle, there are more marbled cuts, like the shoulder. These are suitable for longer cooking, allowing the collagen in the muscle fibers to melt, making the meat tender and juicy.
Vegetables, just like meat, have their own “preferences.” Greens need a quick charring on a very hot chapa, while root vegetables need to cook slowly. My directive is: “Make the fire fit the food.”
Take Your Time
There is so much you can do with a fire that you replenish for long cooking. At first, a charcoal fire burns hot, which is superb for grilling thin cuts of meat and vegetables on a chapa. Then, when the coals are covered with white ash, what I refer to as a mature bed of coals, the fire is suitable for caramelizing, slow-roasting—any parrilla recipe.
Almost any food can be made delicious when cooked over fire; each food has a particular stage of fire at which it cooks best. Listen to your ingredients—they will be your best guide—and keep your fire going all through the meal, including dessert. I know that busy people often don’t have time for a two-hour grilling extravaganza, but when you do, I promise these will be the meals that are burnt into memory.
Be Safe
The first rule of cooking with fire is: be safe. Keep your precious self safe and keep our precious forests safe. An out-of-control fire is dangerous, especially on a windy day, far from the nearest fire department. So have an exit plan.
The best strategy is to build your fire near water. If hoses are practical, hook them up, test them, and have them ready. Full buckets of water, sand, or fine dry soil can also be used to dampen a fire. First, clear away any dry grass and tinder from the cooking area. Four or five feet of cleared ground is the minimum.
As kids in Patagonia, my brother and I often helped the volunteer fire squads, and I can still remember how one mighty gust of wind ignited half a mile of forest in thirty seconds! When you are trying to start a fire, or even light a match, wind is not your friend. But once a fire is blazing, wind can be a real hazard. You may start your outing on a perfect calm sunny day. By noon, especially in Patagonia, the morning zephyr may have become a Force 7 gale and your luncheon campfire may send embers flying in all directions, where they can easily ignite parched grass and dry timber. If you find yourself in this situation, move your grill grates and chapa aside if you can. Next, heave bucketfuls of sand or earth on the fire, followed by water. Your first priority is to contain the fire so that it doesn’t spread. And remember, before you even think about saving your food, save the forest. You can always buy more food, but a forest takes a hundred years to grow back.
Blistered Peppers with Charred Onions and Lemon Zest (page 45) on a chapa.
APPETIZERS AND SALADS
Charred Mushrooms with Thyme and Garlic Toast
Fire loves mushrooms, and mushrooms love fire. When I cook them over hot coals, they bubble and then, just like meat, develop a beautiful crust. When I think of the combination of mushrooms and fire, I see an image of a blackened patch of forest on a Patagonian hillside outside of my hometown, Bariloche. It is some months after a wildfire, and shoots of green have just begun to sprout in the blackened earth. Because it rained the day before, all kinds of mushrooms have sprung up in the sunlight.
Mushrooms are high in umami, which is concentrated as they cook. The result is a flavor that can both stand up to the garlic and gain subtlety from the aroma of fresh thyme. Most mushrooms can be left whole. If they are in large clusters, like oyster mushrooms, cut them into manageable pieces (2 to 3 inches). SERVES 4
4 thick slices sourdough bread
1 garlic clove, cut in half
6 tablespoons extra virgin olive oil
2 teaspoons fresh thyme leaves
4 tablespoons unsalted butter
2 pounds assorted mushrooms, such as chanterelles, oyster, king oyster, and/or shiitakes, cleaned and trimmed (discard stems if using shiitakes)
2 lemons, halved
Coarse salt and freshly ground black pepper
Heat a chapa or a large cast-iron grill pan over medium heat. Grill the bread on both sides for a minute or two, pressing down slightly to mark it. Transfer it to a platter and rub one side of each slice with the cut garlic clove. Drizzle with about half the olive oil and sprinkle with half the thyme. Spread a tablespoon of butter on each slice of bread to melt into it.
Brush the mushrooms with the remaining oil and arrange in a single uncrowded layer on the chapa or grill pan. Cook on the first side until nicely marked, about 5 minutes. Turn and repeat until all sides are browned and the mushrooms are tender when pierced with a paring knife.
Meanwhile, grill the lemon halves, cut side down, until lightly browned.
Arrange the mushrooms on the slices of bread, sprinkle the remaining thyme over them, and season with salt and pepper. Serve immediately, with the grilled lemon halves on the side.
Grilled Carrots with Aged Ricotta and Oregano on Toast
This is one of those dishes where you think you know how it’s going to taste before you try it, but then the combined flavors and textures are a delicious surprise. You may regard carrots as an everyday vegetable, not the kind of thing you serve for a special meal. This recipe settles the issue in favor of the carrot. Treat every ingredient with respect, and it will reward you. SERVES 4
4 carrots, peeled
1 red onion
About ½ cup extra virgin olive oil, plus more for drizzling
¼ cup fresh oregano leaves
Coarse salt and freshly ground black pepper
8 ounces aged ricotta or ricotta salata, cut into ¼-inch-thick slices
4 large garlic cloves (or 2 elephant garlic cloves), thinly sliced
4 large slices sourdough bread
Grated zest of 1 large lemon
Trim the carrots and slice lengthwise ⅛ inch thick on a mandoline. Slice the onion paper-thin on the mandoline. Pour ¼ cup of the olive oil onto a wide rimmed plate and sprinkle with the oregano and salt and pepper to taste. This will be your dressing for the carrots and ricotta.
Heat a charcoal grill or a large ridged cast-iron grill pan over very high heat. Brush the grill or pan with oil. When it starts to smoke, arrange the carrot slices across the grill ridges and grill for 2 to 3 minutes, or until they are nicely striped on the bottom. Turn and repeat on the other side, then transfer to the plate of dressing and turn to coat.
Brush the grill with oil again and add the ricotta. Grill until nicely marked on the first side, then turn and repeat. Add to the dressing and turn to coat them too.
Combine the garlic and onion with 2 tablespoons of the olive oil in a small bowl.
Heat a chapa or a cast-iron griddle over medium heat and brush with olive oil. Scatter the sliced garlic and onion over the bread slices and press down firmly on them with a spatula to make them adhere as much as possible. Invert the bread onto the hot griddle and cook for about 2 minutes, until the bread is toasted and the garlic and onions are lightly browned. Using a wide spatula, carefully scrape up the bread, with the garlic and onions, from the griddle and flip over onto a platter; retrieve any loose garlic and onions and scatter over the bread. Add the grilled carrots and ricotta to the toasts, and sprinkle the grated lemon zest over the top. Season with salt and pepper to taste, drizzle with olive oil, and serve.
Red and Golden Beet Salad with Radishes and Soft-Boiled Eggs
This is one of the few fresh vegetable salads you can put together all through the winter. It is a favorite at my restaurant in Garzón, even in the summer. Very crunchy, very fresh. The eggs make it a complete light meal. I first had it on a
trip to Australia with a number of other chefs, including David Tanis. If you don’t know David, he has had a very interesting life: For many years, he spent half the year as the chef at Chez Panisse and the other half of the year as a private chef in Paris. Now his recipes appear every week in The New York Times Dining section, and they are a highlight of my Wednesday morning reading. SERVES 4
1½ tablespoons fresh thyme leaves
2 tablespoons fresh lemon juice
6 tablespoons extra virgin olive oil, plus more for drizzling
Coarse salt and freshly ground black pepper
2 golden beets
2 red beets
2 carrots
2 large radishes
4 large eggs
Pound 1 tablespoon of the thyme leaves in a mortar until they are bruised and start to form a paste. Whisk in 1½ tablespoons of the lemon juice, and then the olive oil. Season to taste with salt and pepper. Set aside.
Peel and grate first the golden and then the red beets on the coarse blade of a box grater, keeping the colors separate. Toss the golden beets with the remaining 1½ teaspoons lemon juice. Grate the carrots and reserve. Thinly slice the radishes on a mandoline and reserve.
Mallmann on Fire Page 2