Long Island Larder: Holiday Barbecues
"It's watermelon martini season again," was the gleeful reminder of summer on a postcard that the TriBeCa restaurant NosMoking used to mail to customers. Under this inscription the staff lolled on the restaurant's sidewalk, all puffing merrily on a variety of hookahs and other obsolete smoking implements.
Admiring its sheer looniness, I kept the card pinned on a corkboard to lighten up the workday. But never once did it occur to me to actually try a watermelon martini, or even contemplate its possibility.
Then last weekend, up in the far reaches of Columbia County, I was offered one. What a great idea for the Glorious Fourth, but perhaps one is enough - you don't want to miss the fireworks.
Forget Clambakes
Finding the fireworks dates for each of the South Fork towns can involve heavy sleuthing, since they are spread out over the long holiday. Vantage points should be scoped out well in advance, and if you're planning a pre-fireworks picnic or barbecue on a public beach, permissions are sometimes required.
(In the dear old days when 20 people constituted a Fourth of July crowd on the Amagansett main beach, we had bonfire cookouts, no permits or parking stickers necessary, and the only dress requirement was a sweater against the night fog that usually rolled in just in time to obscure the fireworks.)
Unless they have been an Independence Day custom for most of your life, an authentic clambake, replete with four-foot pit, stones, seaweed, and tarpaulin, should most likely be left to a hired professional. Four people who know what they're doing can usually get a full-dress clambake together in about half a day . . . with luck.
Hot List And Cold
Whatever festive menu you choose - and there are alternatives to sandy hot dogs - it absolutely must be served out-of-doors, unless a driving northeaster makes it impossible. Outdoor dining doesn't thrill everyone, especially if it's on the beach, but this is the one holiday when it is un-American to skulk indoors (I don't think it's even possible to skulk outdoors).
So the logistics of keeping things either hot or cold can get complicated. But if you make a "hot" list and a "cold" list, and assemble a sufficient number of coolers and a lot more ice than you think you need, the Fourth of July picnic can be managed almost painlessly.
Though I read recently about all these toddlers dining at Le Bernadin or Lutece with their doting parents, I think most of the baby gourmands will be happier to picnic on hotdogs and hamburgers (made with turkey, if necessary, to quell parental fear of preschooler obesity). The grownups can go in for a few more surprising victuals and maybe even a Watermelon Martini.
After all, watermelon in some form is mandatory on the Fourth.
Mako Shark Kebobs
These can be made hours and hours in advance, refrigerated, then brought back to room temperature for about 20 minutes while the grill master is firing up the Weber. Soak strong wood skewers in water for at least 30 minutes before threading on their ingredients, even if they are to be made ahead. Of course, you may substitute metal skewers; however, I find that most foods slide around on them after they're half-cooked.
Makes 20 kebobs.
3 lbs. mako shark
20 slices green zucchini, 1 inch thick
20 baby onions (pearl, or fat scallions)
20 mushroom caps, about 11/2-inch diameter
20 11/2-inch squares red bell pepper
Coarse salt
Marinade:
Juice of two lemons
1/2 cup vegetable oil
1 tsp. minced garlic
Splash of hot sauce (e.g., green jalapeno sauce)
Tarragon Butter:
1/4 lb. unsalted butter
2 Tbsp. fresh tarragon leaves, chopped
1 tsp. coarse salt
1 tsp. freshly milled white pepper
Remove the skin and any dark flesh from the mako, then cut it in 11/2-inch cubes. You should have about 60 pieces. Saute the onions until half-cooked. Thread the shark on the skewers, beginning and ending with mako, the vegetables and one piece of shark in between, so that each skewer offers three pieces of mako. Lay the skewers flat in a shallow pan and drizzle the marinade over them. Let stand for 20 minutes, then salt lightly just before grilling.
Grease your grill generously with solid shortening (even if it claims to be non-stick, fish will stick to it) and grill the skewer over very hot coals or ceramic bricks for about five minutes on each side.
Arrange the skewers on a heated platter and brush with melted tarragon butter. Serve them with good, crusty peasant bread to mop up the juices.
Pork Tenderloin, Grilled Or Rotisseried
The long, thin muscle that makes up the filet mignon of a pig is ideal for grilling as it is extremely tender and cooks lightning fast. They are generally found in supermarkets packed two to a Cryopak. Since it's sort of upscale soul food, I like to serve it with a black-eyed pea salad.
Serves 10.
4 pork tenderloins (two packages)
Marinade:
1/4 cup lime juice
1/2 cup orange juice
1 Tbsp. minced garlic
2 Tbsp. soy sauce
1 tsp. red pepper flakes, pulverized
1/2 cup vegetable oil
Rinse and trim the tenderloins if necessary (it usually isn't). Pat them dry and roll them in the marinade; cover and refrigerate
overnight or at least six hours. Bring to room temperature, then thread them onto rotisserie skewers in a long curving shape and tie them on with soaked string. The string will burn off in the cooking. Alternatively, the fillets may be laid on a well-greased grill and cooked over hot coals, turning the pieces frequently to brown on all sides, for about five minutes. Brush with marinade while the cooking progresses in either mode.
When the meat is done, lay it on a carving board and cut in one-inch-thick diagonal slices. Arrange on a platter and pour the accumulated juices on top. Boil up the marinade and add some of that to sauce the pork tenderloin.
Black-Eyed Pea Salad
Fresh black-eyed peas are simply not available unless you live on a Southern farm. But the frozen ones are very good indeed, and for salad I prefer them to the dried peas, which tend to get mushy and unattractive if they are sufficiently cooked. Crunchy, an adjective beloved in our country, is not the objective when cooking dried legumes, which, when underdone, are both highly indigestible and unpleasantly crumbly on the palate. Fresh black-eyed peas develop great flavor and hold their shape admirably after about 40 minutes simmering with aromatics. Pay no attention to the package directions.
Serves 10.
3 packages frozen "fresh" black-eyed peas
Salt and red pepper flakes to taste
Small bunch fresh thyme, stems tied together
1 bay leaf
1 red Italian onion/to make 1 cup, chopped coarsely
1/4 lb. fresh sugar snap peas, blanched
Vinaigrette:
1 Tbsp. white wine vinegar
1 tsp. prepared mustard
1 tsp. salt (sea salt for preference)
1 tsp. Balsamic vinegar
5 Tbsp. extra-virgin cold-pressed olive oil
Fresh coarsely milled black pepper to taste
Garnish:
2 Tbsp. minced fresh parsley or cilantro
Put the frozen peas in a saucepan with enough water to cover and add a little salt. Bring to a boil. Add the red pepper, bay leaf, and thyme. Cook, loosely covered, about 40 minutes, or until tender but still shapely. Drain and discard the bay leaf and thyme. Blanch and cool the sugar snap peas. Set aside while you make the vinaigrette. Whisk together all the vinaigrette ingredients until well emulsified. Add the red onion and sugar snap peas to the lukewarm black-eyed peas and mix with the vinaigrette.
This can sit at room temperature for some time without spoiling so it's best not to refrigerate it. Just before serving, turn the pea salad onto a Romaine-lined platter and sprinkle on the parsley or cilantro. (For an added Southern touch, ring the salad with spicy deviled egg halves, without which no real Fourth of July picnic is quite complete.)
Watermelon is the perfect dessert for this occasion. Daintier folk may prefer a watermelon sorbet, which is also one of the world's easiest desserts to make, either in an ice cream machine or frozen in a bowl and whipped. But be warned, watermelon sorbets melt almost instantly so aren't a good candidate for outdoor eating.