Long Island Larder: Diseased Chickens
"Health concerns mounting over . . ." should no doubt be set in permanent type on the front pages of the nation's newspapers. Rarely a day passes without news of some fresh calamity on the health and food front.
The Disease of the Week is campylobacter infection. You might as well learn how to pronounce it (CAM-pill-o-back-ter), as it now appears - as opposed to previous, less dire misinformation - that 70 to 90 percent of American chickens are infected.
Since we've been virtuously eating more chicken than any other meat, both for health and economy, thinking only about avoiding salmonella contamination by thorough cooking, this is truly alarming news.
Cooking the bejabbers out of chicken seems to be the only way to outwit the threat of salmonella infection. Rare chicken isn't high on the list of All-American Favorites. Even so, there are hundreds of thousands of food-poisoning attacks every year that go largely undiagnosed.
While fear of salmonella has had us all sterilizing everything that comes into contact with raw chicken and cooking it to an internal temperature of 170 degrees F., there are still some "800,000 to four million illnesses a year" (don't you love nice precise statistics like that!) ascribed by the Atlanta Centers for Disease Control to these bacteria omnipresent in chickens.
Fortunately, it can be controlled with antibiotics, but this new horror, campylobacter, which the public has been almost completely unaware of, carries a worse problem - resistance to antibiotics.
The Brits had their Mad Cow Disease crisis last year and were forced to destroy a huge part of their cattle population, out of not altruism but refusal by Common Market countries to accept the infected beef and a beef boycott by the British public.
Maybe our Government should require the same draconian remedy for our poultry supply. And don't for one minute think turkeys are okay. Fifty-eight percent of our festive birds are infected with campylobacter. Probably salmonella, too, though the report I read did not specify this.
Perdue's Piece
This little voice crying in the wilderness has asked repeatedly in the past why the American public has to put up with infected poultry. Now we have another serious threat to health in the chicken supply, and we get feeble replies like this one from the Perdue Company spokesman:
"We accept our piece" - (Piece? What piece? the whole thing, I think) - "of responsibility to deal very seriously with it [campylobacter], but we have to figure out what our responsibility is."
Why don't we try this out on Frank Perdue and his fellow producers: Start over with a fresh, uninfected, flock of chickens - maybe we could import some from the Himalayas - to give the American public a clean supply of poultry.
Actually, their responsibility is even greater. American producers provide a large part of the world poultry supply - mostly the chicken legs that Americans reject in favor of white meat.
Goats, Maybe?
Here on the East End, where fishing is such an important part of the economy, we are warned to beware of oysters, mussels, and clams from polluted waters, fish full of PCBs, and other unpleasant things that can happen to marine life. Maybe we should just raise goats in the backyard for a home-grown meat supply.
The Brits were forced to destroy a huge part of their cattle population last year. Maybe our Government should require the same draconian remedy for our poultry supply.
They save on lawn-mowing costs, their milk makes delicious cheese, and so far I haven't heard of any raging goat contaminations.
Or, how about going back to our roots?
Potatoes Anyone?
In the '70s, when I spent a summer in Dublin cooking and writing, I discovered an old Irish dish named colcannon, which seems to be bobbing up on American menus these days. Traditionally, it is made of cooked, shredded kale mixed into mashed potatoes laced liberally with rich milk and melted butter.
Cabbage, especially the Savoy crinkly kind, is another favorite vegetable to mix with the mashed potatoes.
The dish is also called champ, when it is made with blanched scallions, according to one of the Irish cookbooks I brought back. It is usually served in soup plates to children - a crater of mashed potatoes with a big knob of butter melting in it.
Large And Bumpy
"Chef's" potatoes, a big round variety weighing in at about 10 ounces each, make quick work of the potato-peeling chore. However, I'm fond of the old Green Mountain variety, which whip up very light and fluffy.
Idahos make good mashed potatoes too. Yukon Golds are okay, but a bit waxy for really first-class mashed potatoes. I stick with Green Mountains and Chef's.
Green Mountains are usually large, but very bumpy, with deep eyes you must flick out with the point of the peeler or knife. Some minced fresh parsley may be added, but otherwise leave this pure, simple dish strictly alone. No fried sage, no frizzled leeks, no coulis of any kind.
Colcannon is a main dish, but you may round it out with a couple of grilled sausages of whatever kind you fancy.
Colcannon
Serves two.
11/2 lbs. potatoes, peeled and quartered or cut in big chunks
1 tsp. salt
Cold water to cover
2 Tbsp. scallions, sliced fine
About 1 cup milk, heated
1 Tbsp. softened butter
Freshly milled pepper and salt to taste
4 cups fresh green cabbage, shredded
1/2 tsp. salt
2 large knobs fresh, unsalted butter
Peel the potatoes and de-eye them. Cut them in large chunks (otherwise they get waterlogged) and put them in cold water to cover, with a little salt. Bring to a boil and simmer, covered, until done but not falling apart. Drain (save the potato water to make delicious bread) and dry over low heat.
Put the potatoes through a food mill, a chinois, or bash them lumpless with an old-fashioned potato masher. Do not, under any circumstances, puree them in a processor - the gluten in them turns to glue under such ferocious treatment.
An electric mixer is good for whipping the potatoes to fluffiness and incorporating the milk, scallions, and butter. Or, you can use a big wooden spoon.
Quickly steam the shredded cabbage to crisp-tender, drain it on a dish cloth, then stir it into the potatoes. Season to taste with salt and pepper. Arrange in mounds on a big warmed plate, make a crater in the center, and put a knob of butter into each.
A microwave is a godsend for bringing the colcannon to piping hotness.
Boxty
Another potato dish, boxty is an Irish rendition of Yorkshire pudding. It's served with chive-flecked sour cream at a pub in Key West called Finnegan's Wake. A version made with flour-batter base was meant to be served with roast beef.
This one is a bit lighter and has no flour. I like this boxty with Irish bacon and/or scrambled eggs, or, as at Finnegan's, with smoked salmon.
1/2 lb. potatoes partially boiled and grated
1/2 lb. potatoes boiled and mashed
4 ozs. stale bread crumbs (white, home-style)
2 egg yolks
2 Tbsp. softened butter
3 scallions, minced
Salt and white pepper to taste
Butter for frying or plain vegetable oil
Mix all ingredients (except the frying medium) together lightly, using two table forks spread slightly apart. Do not use a food processor or an electric mixer, as the mixture will be too smooth.
Shape into thick rounds about two inches in diameter and one inch thick. Fry until golden brown on each side in about a quarter-inch of oil or butter. Serve hot or warm.