You probably already know that this is ginger root.
Ugly little spud, isn’t it?
I post about it because last Friday was the first time I’ve ever had any direct culinary dealings with one of these things. And as I worked with it, I couldn’t shake the notion that it looked like the diabolical creature that held Planet Theta Upsalon V in its thrall, waiting for the moment when Captain Kirk was busy getting to know the scantily-clad green-skinned babes that loitered about the planet’s seemingly Paradisical setting, so that it could suddenly leap out from behind a rocky ledge, get rid of a couple of Red Shirts and start eating Spock’s brain.
Fortunately (or unfortunately, depending on whether I was to be cast in the Kirk, Spock or Red Shirt role), nothing of this sort occurred in my kitchen.
I was gingering up in preparation for trying out Mrs. P’s shrimp recipe. And I can tell you that this recipe was an instant success at the Port Swiller’s House, enjoying a solid 4 to 1 endorsement. (An 80% success is awfully good at the PSH. The lone dissenter, the nine year old, said to me, “Weeeeell, Dad, you know I’m not really into seafood that much.” What about the rice, I asked. “Weeeeell, Dad,” she said, “I don’t really like rice, either.” Weeeeeell, too bad. The dish is yummy, easy and Friday-friendly, so it goes into the reportoire. The gel can eat saltines for all I care.)
In response to my previous post announcing my intention to try the dish, something of a discussion brewed up in the comments about the proper way to go about grating ginger root. Resident chef Boy Named Sous recommended that one freeze the ginger beforehand, thus making it easier to grate. Sistah said that when she had tried this, it just came out slimy.
Not knowing this trick, I grated mine at room temp. It certainly came out moist, which made me awfully glad I had decided to grate it into a bowl. At the end, I had a pretty respectable amount of ginger juice in the bowl, which I simply went ahead and added into the sauce. As I say, the whole thing was quite tasty.
This leads me to another question about ginger root, though. Before grating, I peeled mine like one would a carrot. Was this wrong or right? Did this save me from having bits of nasty ginger skin gritting in my rice, or were my instincts incorrect, thereby depriving me of the opportunity of an even more flavorful experience than I actually had?
Most importantly, did my stripping the ginger of its outer self deprive it of the power to fill my kitchen with scantily-clad green alien babes in order to put me off my guard while it started to tuck into brains?
The world wonders.
12 comments
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March 30, 2009 at 9:46 pm
Sarah G.
I too peel off the skin, but instead of grating I do a very fine chop.
I don’t grate because it would mean dirtying another implement. I already have the knife out from peeling (more like shaving).
March 31, 2009 at 12:42 am
Sister
Of course you peel it, nucklehead. I peel it with the veggie peeler and grate it on the microplane. I do find fresh better, the only problem is that it doesn’t last very long in the fridge before it starts to “come alive”. I keep a jar of grated ginger in the fridge – you can get it in the veg section of the store – and use it in a pinch.
I don’t have the same problem as Sarah G. because my husband cleans the kitchen for me. I love to cook, I hates to clean the kitchen. The Mothe’s use of me as a kitchen cleaning slave as a child has warped me for life. Are you reading this Mothe? Damn you! HAHAHAHAHAHA.
(Of course I’m kidding, about the damn you, but not about my aversion to cleaning dishes.)
March 31, 2009 at 12:47 am
Mrs. Peperium
I’m glad it went over so well. If the recipe is to be a llama mainstay, consider purchasing this to grate the ginger – I use it all the time and it really works:
http://www.thekitchenstore.com/jochgigr.html
Oh, and please invite Father M. over and show him how to make the dish – tell him to bring the grater.
And if Mothe is reading this, Hi. I hope you’ve had a nice winter. I’ll be by with another blueberry cake in no time.
March 31, 2009 at 1:25 am
mothe
To Sister: Slave indeed. You had even then perfected the art of filling the dishwasher with fewer dishes than anyone else on the planet can ever come close to matching.
To Mrs P: Very nice, thanks. Do come by. You might even bring your shrimp recipe. Sounds delicious.
March 31, 2009 at 1:33 am
Jordana
I peel it and whirl it around in my mini-chopper. I’ll probably be banned for life from all worthy kitchens for admitting it, but the little Black and Decker chopper I got for a wedding present is my favorite way to deal with garlic and ginger.
March 31, 2009 at 5:52 am
Boy Named Sous
Yes, you peel it, your sister’s right.
Part of the problem with grating it fresh, especially if you don’t grate it fine enough, is that it’s extremely fibrous. And yes, dude, the juice is where most of the flavor is, you did right.
March 31, 2009 at 1:23 pm
Robbo
To Sistah: “Kitchen cleaning slave” indeed. I would remind you that YOUR idea of “kitchen cleaning slavery” was to lock yourself in your room and blast your Adam Ant records.
And don’t tell me I’m wrong because when Bruthah and I were REALLY slaving out in the yard at one of the Old Gentleman’s landscaping projects, we could HEAR you!
Humph!
March 31, 2009 at 5:44 pm
Mrs. Peperium
Mothe, Thank you. I thought of you just the other day because I dinged my teapot – the same one you have- and a big patch of the blue enamel fell off. Story of my life these days….
April 1, 2009 at 12:19 am
Sister
To Mothe: Please. I’ll get you Sistah.
To Robbo: Let’s not rewrite history. I was dragged into the Old Gentleman’s landscaping projects myself AND had to do all the “girl” chores too. I remember quite a lot of whining from the boys when a laundry basket full of towels (folded by moi) needed to be carried up the stairs. Watering the rhodies, veshtable garden and fruit trees and sodding the yard at the “new” house are all burned into my memory!
This is kind of fun!
April 1, 2009 at 1:36 am
mothe
Looking forward to it, Mrs. P (Your visit, not a big flake of blue enamel! By the bye, you might be thinking of the tea kettle in the big house. Someone boiled it dry later in the summer, and it has gone to The Big Recycle Center in the Sky.)
April 1, 2009 at 1:56 pm
Old Dominion Tory
I, too, tried Shrimp Peperium (that’s its new name. Period.), and it was a huge success. Using a microplane, I too experienced Robbo’s problem. So, like Sister, I chopped it very fine-minced it, really.
April 1, 2009 at 11:27 pm
Mr. Peperium
The Big Recycle Center in the Sky?
I have to take everything to Harpswell. Or is it Great Island? I never know.
Before recycling centers came along Mrs. P’s grandmother and the aunts before her paid the lobstermen to toss all their junk in the ocean (everything that couldn’t be burnt, that is). To this day, their sons and now grandsons swear that, on a clear day, at low tide, about 20 yards offshore in front of the house you can still see their old kitchen stove (circa 1911).
And the Maytag guy thought he had it hard.