How to Fix a BlueStar Igniter

First, a little context. This is Jason, Helen's husband. Helen is currently getting some extra sleep so that she'll be conscious for the next 2am feeding :) This morning, Paul, from Vesco, came to fix a burner igniter problem we've been having with our BlueStar range. Paul discovered the problem and showed me the easy fix, so I wanted to share it with all of Helen's blog readers.

We had our BlueStar range installed approximately 1 year, 1 month ago. Since then, we've had six problems and repairs ("jet engine" noise, 2 stuck doors, broken oven bottom, failing oven glow bar, intermittent igniter), all under warranty. Vesco is the local service company BlueStar uses for warranty repair. Our latest issue, which is the topic of this post, is burner igniter trouble. July 16th, Helen noticed that our high-intensity burner would occasionally fail to light, even when she held it in the "lite" position for a while. When I looked at the problem, I noticed that all other burner igniters were firing (I could see sparks arcing between the igniter and the burner), just not the high-intensity burner igniter. Clearly, something was wrong with the high-intensity burner igniter.

The next day, we emailed BlueStar about the problem. They sent us a replacement igniter and installation instructions. Once the igniter arrived, I was able to replace the igniter without much trouble. At first, the burner came on fine. But, a few days later, we noticed that the problem was recurring---sometimes the igniter would spark, sometimes it wouldn't. We let BlueStar know the replacement didn't fix the problem and they set up an appointment with Vesco, their Boston-area warranty service company.

Like I mentioned before, today was the day that Paul from Vesco came to fix the igniter. We know Paul quite well at this point. I think he's been to our house 7 times now. He's quiet, but knows his stuff. It didn't take long for him to identify and fix the problem. I demonstrated that the igniter wouldn't spark. He took off the burner grate and bowl and immediately pointed-out that the transparent igniter connector plug was touching a metal pipe. "There's your problem," he said. He turned the burner knob to "lite" and, sure enough, we could both see that the spark was coming from the transparent igniter connector plug rather than from the tip of the igniter. "You just need some electrical tape," he said. He got out his roll of electrical tape, wrapped around the transparent igniter connector plug and fired the burner. It worked like a charm. I don't think I'll ever understand why BlueStar doesn't simply design their ranges to avoid these sort of problems. But, it's certainly nice to know that we have trouble with the other igniters, a fix could be as easy as a few inches of electrical tape.

Before writing this post, I emailed Michael, our new BlueStar service rep, to let him know the source of the problem and the electrical tape fix, suggesting that they add this to the igniter replacement instructions. He said that he thought that tip would be helpful and asked his supervisor to add it to the instructions.

Alexander Benjamin Rennie is born!

Sasha (short of Alexander in Russian) was born on August 27, 2010 weighing 6 Lb 12 oz.  We are back from the hospital and everyone is doing well :)

Thanks to his Daddy, he already has a blog.

Can lobsters induce labor?

After 4 days of rain and cold, it's finally perfect weather in New England -- the kind Californians take for granted, but we tough New Englanders only see a few weeks a year.  And since so many of you might be on vacation, I thought it might be a good time to post about the ultimate New England vacation food -- lobster.

I have a confession to make -- I am a little afraid of lobsters.  They look like huge bugs, and bugs are not my thing.  Unfortunately, very few New England establishments cook lobsters to my desired doneness.  It's almost always overcooked!  So if I want it done right, I have to do it myself.

"We should have lobster rolls for dinner," I thought as I woke up yesterday.  Each morning, I try to come up with something challenging to cook to keep my mind off the fact that my due date came and went a week ago and the baby is still in my tummy.  I tried active walking (even in the rain), acupuncture, spicy food.  Nothing worked yet.  My new strategy is to buy very perishable and expensive proteins.  I figured that the baby will probably want to come out just as I bring those lobsters or a very expensive steak home.

At first, it didn't seem to work.  The lobsters got cooked, dismembered, and turned into fantastic lobster rolls without any signs of labor.  I was starting to lose hope that I'll ever go into labor at all, but this morning I finally started feeling contractions.  Since I might not have that much blogging time left, let me get to the crux of the matter.

How to cook, not overcook a lobster
The problem with shellfish cooked in the shell is that you can't just poke it, look inside, and see if it's done (like you can with fin fish). You have to rely on timing. Since I cook lobsters rarely, I used to rely on the timing I heard from the fishmongers. The formulas they gave me varied from 13 to 20 minutes per pound and since I prefer to err on the side of undercooking than overcooking, I went with 13 minutes. The claws were good, but the tails were way too tough. After reading what my seafood hero, James Peterson had to say in his Fish and Shellfish book, I realized that even 13 minutes per pound is way too long and the reason my lobsters came out tough was because of overcooking. I guess this is one time when you shouldn't listen to your fishmonger. Peterson suggested two timings.

For a lobster that's still a bit translucent in the center (the way he prefers it): 5 minutes for the first 1.25 Lbs, then 2 minutes for each additional pound. In other words, 1.75 Lb lobster would cook for 6 minutes.

For a lobster that is opaque throughout: 8 minutes for the first 1.25 Lb, then 2 minutes for each additional pound. In other words, 1.75 Lb lobster would cook for 9 minutes.

I use the second timing and the lobsters always come out perfectly tender and succulent.

How much water to use
You need a huge pot and a ton of water. Peterson suggests at least a gallon of water for the first lobster and a quart for each additional one. This works if your lobsters are about 1.5 lb each and if your stove is powerful enough to return the water to a simmer quickly after the lobsters go in the pot.  If your lobsters are larger or your stove is wimpy, I suggest increasing the amount of water.  If you go with 2 gallons for the first lobster and 1 more gallon for each additional one, you'll be safe on any stove no matter how large the lobsters are.  If you use too little water, it will cool off too much when the lobsters go in and the timing formula might not work.

No salt

You probably never thought you'd hear me say this, but hold the salt. Lobsters are naturally salty and if you add any salt to the cooking water, it ends up being too much.

Poach, don't boil
Another thing to remember is that a lobster should be poached, not boiled.  If your heat is too high, the lobsters will get tough.  Bring the water to a rolling boil before the lobsters go in. As soon as the lobsters go in, cover the pot and return the water to a simmer as quickly as possible (in other words, crank up the heat). Check it every minute, and as soon as you see the first bubbles, turn the heat off and leave the pot covered.  Don't worry, the lobster are still cooking.  Just because you turned the heat off, doesn't mean the water is not hot.  Note that the above timing is the total time the lobster spends in the water (the time it takes to return the water back to a simmer plus the time the water is off the heat).

Rest and Serve
Remove the lobsters from the cooking liquid and let rest 10 minutes before taking apart.  I probably don't need to tell you that, but lobster dunked in melted butter is heavenly.

Tips on taking your lobsters apart and making lobster rolls.

To marinate or not

As every home cook, I've gone through the stage when I marinated every piece of protein that crossed my kitchen threshold (chicken, beef, pork, lamb, shrimp, fish, etc).  If it had parents, it needed to soak in something.  Ah -- those good old college days full of so much enthusiasm and so little knowledge about how to cook.  A few years later, I learned that a marinade has as much impact on the tenderness and flavor of your meat as the government has on the state of the economy.  Sure they can hurt.  But can they help?  Nope.

Yes, I became a culinary and political libertarian.  My only goal in cooking proteins was to choose them wisely and not screw them up.  Salt, pepper, and heat became my only ingredients.  "But what about complexity of flavor?" might you ask.  Surprisingly, as all the rubs and marinates got dropped, flavor got more complex because I discovered the ultimate power of the Maillard reaction, or in layman terms "browning."  Browning is your friend.  When proteins brown, hundreds of different flavor compounds are created.  That's where dropping the marinades and rubs actually helps.  In order to maximize browning, the proteins need to be absolutely dry (otherwise they steam rather than brown).  They also need to make great contact with the hot cooking surface.  All the liquids in the marinades make your proteins wet, and the chunky ingredients, like garlic, prevent good contact with the cooking surface (it's the garlic that ends up browning and often burning rather than the protein itself).  I tried wiping the marinades off before cooking the protein.  That helped a lot in the browning department, but seemed like an awful lot of fuss all for nothing.  Leaving the protein completely alone and not marinating at all seemed to work just as well and was a lot easier.  Salt and pepper right before cooking, and into the hot skillet it goes.  I wrote about the searing technique before, using scallops as an example, but the same applies to all proteins.

I am still a strong believer in this minimalist approach.  That's what I teach in my classes.  If you want to be a great cook, you need to know how to take a protein, salt, pepper, and heat and turn them into a spectacular meal. If you think that Worcestershire sauce, soy sauce, mustard or some other secret ingredient will come to your rescue, keep on dreaming.  It all boils down to your ability to judge how much salt to use and how to test for doneness.

This sounds somewhat austere and implies that all your beef dishes should taste the same, all your lamb dishes should taste the same, etc.  Far from it.  That's where the sauces and garnishes come in.  Is red wine lovely with beef?  Of course!  But instead of soaking a steak in it before cooking, why not make a red wine reduction sauce to put on the steak when it's done?  Is lamb just begging for garlic?  How about topping it with garlic herb butter after it's done?  This way you get the best of both worlds -- the garlic flavor is fresh and intense and the meat is perfectly brown and complex tasting.

Salting in advance does work
Of course, as soon as you come up with any sort of strict rules, like "proteins should never be pre-treated," you start discovering exceptions.  So, never say never.  There is one ingredient that does do wonders when left on a protein for a long period of time before cooking -- salt.   Judy Rodger's from the Zuni Cafe opened my eyes to the beauty of pre-salting.  Unlike most ingredients commonly found in marinates, salt is the one that penetrates very deeply even into large pieces of meat given long enough time (like 24-48 hours).  Acid on another hand only penetrates about 1/4 inch of meat usually resulting in an outer layer that's mushy and dry rather than tender and juicy.  So, what does the deep salt penetration give you?

More evenly seasoned protein
This is true for all of them from chicken to shrimp.  Salt intensifies the flavor of a protein.  The move evenly we can distribute it, the better each bite is going to be.

Slightly better browning
This benefit is tiny, but it is a nice side effect.  When proteins are salted, their surface gets wet.  People often worry about the protein losing juiciness, which is not the right problem to worry about.  The real problem is reduced browning due to increased surface moisture.  That's why I always salt immediately before starting to cook a protein rather than 10-15 minutes in advance.  But a day in advance is even better.  This way you can dry it thoroughly before cooking and don't need to put any more salt on it, keeping the outside as dry as possible.  What about the moisture loss due to salting?  Some people think it's such a big problem that they salt their proteins AFTER cooking.  That's just silly.  The amount of liquid drawn out by salt is tiny compared to how much protein loses due to the heat of cooking.  Some moisture lose is unavoidable, but it's much better controlled by not overcooking than by avoiding salt.

Increased tenderness and juiciness
It's very easy to get over confident here and assume that if a protein is pre-salted for a day or two, it will be tender and juicy.  I am still a firm believer that most of tenderness and juiciness is controlled through getting doneness just right.  Below 120F, the moisture is still trapped within the cell walls, and you can't easily access it by chewing.  120F-140F, the proteins coagulate, forcing liquid out of the muscle cells, which then collects within the protein sheath. That's when your protein is the juiciest but still tender. After 140F, it's all downhill from there. The proteins get tougher and the liquid gets squeezed out.  That's where salting in advance can really help.  It gives you an additional 20 degrees or so before the protein gets seriously tough and squeezes all the moisture out of itself.

So for all practical purposes, salting a day or two ahead gives you the most benefit with poultry and pork since they are usually cooked to higher than 140F.  I haven't noticed a big improvement in tenderness or juiciness of my beef and lamb when I salt far in advance because I cook them to 130F (internal temp after resting).  I do cook most fish to as high as 135F (internal temp after resting), but it's such a tender protein that toughness is usually not an issue and as long as you don't go over 140F, it will still be juicy.  This is not to say that salting in advance can ever hurt.  It's always beneficial particularly when it comes to outer layers that reach higher temperature than the center.  But for chicken and pork, it's a tremendous difference that is worth planning in advance.

Other in advance ingredients
After further reading, I found that there are other ingredients that can be helpful when put on a protein way in advance.  Lactic acid helps with tenderizing the outer layers of chicken without turning them mushy the way wine or vinegar does.  This explains the tradition of many cuisines to soak chicken in yogurt or buttermilk before cooking.  Sodium glutamates can penetrate to the center of even very large pieces of protein given enough time (just like salt does).  The most glutamate rich product is MSG (health risks of which, by the way, have been blown completely out of proportion), but there are plenty of others that are less controversial: miso paste, tomato paste, soy sauce, etc.

The important thing is to figure out what does an ingredient do for you before dumping it on an unsuspecting protein.  It's also good to know the trade offs.  Sure, the soy sauce will make salmon more flavorful, but will it make it stick to the grill?  The brine might make your chicken really juicy, but will it prevent its skin from getting crisp?  Salt is the only ingredient I know of that always helps and never hurts when put on any protein before cooking and allowed time to penetrate.  The other ones are a bit tricky.

This is just some food for thought.  As all advice on my blog it mostly applies to Western European cooking where proteins are cooked in large pieces and meats are either cooked to medium-rare or braised.  There are many cuisines where proteins are cut very small and cooked all the way through.  Different cooking principles apply there.

In cooking, just like in everything else in life, rules are only there to be broken.  But basic principles like "less is more" can often be helpful.

Home made "canned" tuna

Who makes their own tuna in a can?  I mean, it's the kind of food snobbery on par with making your own ricotta, granola, and creme fraiche.  But since I've done all of those, I am allowed to make fun of my fellow food snobs.  You see, I was in a desperate need of a cooking project and thought that making canned tuna would be just the thing to distract me from the fact that my due date was last friday and this baby seems to have no intention of getting out of me.  Jason and I are joking that maybe I am feeding him too well.

So, back to canned tuna...  First, let's talk about what you can buy in the store and for how much.

• Tuna packed in water -- that's not even worth talking about.  This stuff is inedible in my opinion.
• Cheap tuna (such as albacore) packed in oil.  Some of this stuff is fine in a typical tuna salad where it's mixed with mayo or vinaigrette type dressing.  It's still relatively dry and crumbly, but not bad.
• Expensive tuna (such as yellowfin) packed in oil.  This stuff is often imported and does taste good enough to eat out of a jar with no dressing.  The problem is the price.  8 oz jar can cost $11.  That's like paying $22/Lb for tuna, which is even more than upscale fish mongers charge for raw yellowfin tuna.  For that price, I'd rather be eating tuna raw or seared medium-rare.

Of course, there is the wonderful convenience of just opening a jar.  You can always have it on hand.  It's not perishable, and so easy to take with you to the airport, picnic, etc.  Yet, I was wondering if I can beat the taste and the price of the most expensive imported yellowfin tuna in a jar.  Unlike roasted chicken and a perfect pie dough, this is not a question that kept me awake at night for many months.  I only started wondering about oil poached tuna this weekend, when Jason and I were looking at packages of yellowfin tuna at Costco.  It's rare that Costco carries tuna, but when they do, it's lovely and a bargain ($12/Lb compared to $19 at a good fishmonger).  Just check that the "pack on" date is the day you are buying it or at least the day before.

"What do you think of this package?" I asked Jason.  "It's ok," he said hesitantly, "but what about this connective tissue?"  Most tuna steaks butchered the European way have some chewy parts where connective tissue is thick.  When tuna is butchered the Japanese way, the loin is divided into sections to provide consistency of texture, but that's hard to come by even at upscale fishmonger shops, let alone at Costco.  "Don't worry," I told Jason.  "I'll sear the good part medium rare and will poach the rest in oil for sandwiches and salad."  "You mean like canned tuna?" he asked.  "Yes, only sous-vide."

Jason has learned that if I mention "sous-vide," it's going to be good.  And truth be told, I am yet to have a sous-vide disaster.  The texture almost always surpasses conventional cooking methods.  If you are new to sous-vide, here is the summary -- put food in a vacuum sealed bag and hold in a water bath at a precise doneness temperature (140F for tuna) for about 2 hours per inch of thickness (more about sous-vide).

For all practical purposes, poaching tuna in oil is kind of like making duck confit.  Normally, you need enough fat in the pot to submerge the meat.  I always found it kind of wasteful, especially when it comes to fish because that oil is not reusable.  But using sous-vide method, I could get away with a very small amount of oil (about 1/4 cup) since I was sealing it in a bag with tuna.  The problem is how do you seal a liquid without breaking your vacuum sealer?  You freeze it first.  The day before I was going to cook the tuna, I poured the oil into a vacuum bag and carefully placed it in the freezer trying to keep the oil relatively flat, but tilting the opening of the bag up so that the oil doesn't spill.  Next day, I had a nice sheet of frozen oil.  

I also decided to salt my tuna about 4 hours before cooking to make sure it's flavored throughout (like you would with duck, but for a shorter period of time).  Then I put the tuna in a bag with frozen oil, vacuum sealed it, and put into my humongous beer cooler filled with 143F water.  It dropped to 140F in about 15-20 minutes after the cold tuna went in.  I kept it there for 2 hours making sure the temperature never dipped below 135F.  And ta-da!  I made my own canned tuna.  Only way better.  This stuff is not crumbly or dry.  It's luscious!  Just melts in your mouth.  Not even the expensive imported canned tuna from Italy can compare to my home-made version.  The only thing I'd do differently next time is use a light olive oil.  Extra virgin is a bit too strong and overshadows tuna's flavor.  Unfortunately, this stuff is perishable, but it should last for a week in the fridge as long as you keep it covered in oil.  Maybe even longer, but a week is definitely safe.