Ragazzi, you may find Annalena to be totally inconsistent. She talks about the "temple days" of abstinence, and offers a lovely cauliflower recipe, which is then followed by a macaroni and cheese which is a rich as Croeseus as they say (look it up: educate yourselves).
Ah, but are we not all a series of contradictions? Annalena realizes fully that for most of us, the possibilities of a saintly life food wise, are goals and not facts. And that being the case, she shall continue to alternate the temple food with that which can hardly be called such. Hence, following this recipe, you will be seeing one of Annalena's classic holiday cookie recipes.
And we go on. When we cook, we get our recipes from many sources. Some (like Annalena...:)) we trust immediately. Others, we are skeptical of. Annalena feels you should never trust any recipe source completely. A good source will tell you: use this recipe as a GUIDE. It may not work quite this way for you. Indeed, in the kitchen, you must learn to be flexible, and to not assume you were a failure. If the recipe is written correctly (and many are not, sad to say), and you have some kitchen savvy, you can correct or change a recipe, make it your own, and then pass it on.
Such is the case with this recipe, one from one of Annalena's culinary idols, David Tanis. Chef Tanis' food is marked by simplicity and fidelity to what's local and seasonal. And when he posts a recipe which is also "clean" (more on this below), Annalena pays attention. When it happens to include ingredients that are in Annalena's pantry, she pays more attention. And when she doesn't have what he prescribes, she makes do. When the recipe isn't working, she solves the issues. As you will see.
"Eating clean." Annalena first learned this term from her personal trainer friends, most notably Ms. Emily. For Annalena, this meant eating preservative free: the old rule of "if your grandmother wouldn't recognize what's in it, don't eat it." Of course, as Annalena is now old enough to be the grandparent of some of her friends, this rule will have to change. But Ms. Emily uses the phrase differently. She used it in the sense of trying to eliminate as much that is "bad" for you as possible. No red meat. No sugars. No refined carbs.
And, in Annalena's view, if taken to its limits, no fun. Still... This recipe qualifies as clean. It is a fish recipe, and it is made with one TEASPOON - yes, you read that correctly - one TEASPOON of fat. And it works, and it's good.
Here's how you make it. You start with a pound of a firm, white fleshed fish. Annalena had hake in the house, but if like Ms. Emily you are on the West Coast, try some halibut or rockfish, or use bass, or cod, or anything along those lines. Salt and pepper it and put it aside for a few minutes, while you preheat your oven to 400 degrees, and get a glass or ceramic baking dish handly, together with a piece of foil.
Grate a teaspoon (you can be more generous here) of fresh ginger, and mix it with a teaspoon of dark sesame oil. Now, rub this all over your fish (cut it into two serving size pieces, or if you're not that hungry, smaller ones), and put the fish in the baking dish. Let it sit for fifteen minutes.
The recipe Annalena used also called for making a quick pickle of ginger slices. I did not have that much ginger handy, so I substituted. I had a Persian cucumber, which I cubed, and mixed with a bit of salt and some rice wine vinegar. I let that sit, while I was preparing the fish.
After the fifteen minute "sit", cover the baking dish with foil, and put it in the oven.
According to Chef Tanis, you wait for ten minutes, and if the fish is not quite cooked, give it another two. After ten minutes, I had warm sushi. Two minutes was not going to do it.
Was the recipe wrong? Maybe. Maybe Chef Tanis worked with thinner slices of fish than I did. Maybe his fish has a different composition than the hake. In any event, I put it back in the oven for another six minutes, and then the center of my slices was just barely flaking, which is the way I like it.
Chef Tanis also calls for black sesame seeds, which I call "nigella," and which people tell me is incorrect. Oh well. It is a rare house that has black sesame seeds. They ARE good, and if you happen to pass a spice store on the way home, get some. But if you don't have them, and can't get them, improvise. Regular sesame would be fine, and you could also leave them out. You could also use some fresh herbs, or add an onion element from a scallion, or even, as I was thinking, some shaved cooked beets.
Whatever you do, plate up your fish, and put the cucumbers and sesame on top of it. Don't leave this out, as it really wakens the fish.
And what have you here? A wonderful supper dish for two or more people, where the total added fat was a teaspoon: about 40 lousy calories. Ragazzi, you probably get more than 40 calories SMELLING cookies. So for heaven's sake, make this once in a while. Chef Tanis served it forth with steamed spinach, and rice, and I thought this was just the perfect idea, especially since there were two bags of spinach in the fridge, "giving me the stink eye," as Ms. Nora would say. Since you've been so "clean" with your protein, decorate your veggies and rice if you like, or have a small dessert, or do both. Keep it clean, but no one expects an immaculate dinner.
Carry on, my lovelies. We're gonna make potato chip pecan sandies next.
Wednesday, November 30, 2011
Saturday, November 26, 2011
You can never have too many: YET ANOTHER macaroni and cheese recipe
Well, if you read Annalena's last post, on curried cauliflower, you saw some nattering about mac and cheese (by the way, if you read that last post, tell Annalena honestly: did you find the recipe too complicated? Please see the comment she received. Annalena knows not what to do). And indeed, this is ANOTHER recipe for mac and cheese, with, of course a story. Annalena fully believes that, like black cashmere sweaters, and blue blazers, one can never have too many of these. And this one was really born out of one of those "OH MY GOD I HAVE TO MAKE SOMETHING" moments. You know what I mean, yes?
See, Annalena was catering a fundraiser for her favorite Uptown boys, and meatballs were on the menu. For what we would be charging, this was one where supermarket meat would have to do. But for Annalena's boys? Uh, no. So, reaching into the overfilled freezer, she pulled out two meatloaves that had been made with extremely high quality, grass fed, organic meats. All well and good.
Man does not live by meatloaf alone, however, as much as he does not live by bread alone. All things considered, however, Annalena would rather have the bread. The bottom line is, I could not see serving this without a starch. BUT... I did not or could not see my way to making a "true" macaroni and cheese, with the grated cheese, and the bechamel, etc. Scouting around the kitchen, however, I came up with a few things and this resulted.
And if I do say so myself, it's very good. It's more than very good. It is worth making againg. And I shall. So too should you. Here it comes.
I had a one kilo bag of pasta, so that's a bit over 2 pounds. The pasta were cappelletti which, strictly speaking, are stuffed pasta from Modena. "Cappelletti" means "little hats," and I guess these sort of looked like hats. I thought they looked like baby curls, and my Uptown boys did not disappoint with coming up with more erotic interpretations of this dry pasta. However you come out on this, you need a shaped pasta and take this as a reaffirmation that more than one type of pasta may fall under a name in pasta terminology, just as one name may cover more than one type of pasta. It is all ridiculously confusing. Annalena suggests that you simply follow the "categories" of pasta: long, short or soup. Use a "short" one. If you are not sure what constitutes long or short or soup, check the box. Long boxes hold long pasta. Bags, or squat boxes, hold short pasta. Soup pasta is tiny.
You can do that. I know you can. Get two pounds of it. Also get about a pound of fontina cheese.
Now another digression because there is more than one fontina. There is Danish fontina and there is Italian fontina. Annalena understands how THAT happened even less than she understands how cardamom became the leading dessert spice of Scandinavia. In any event, Danish fontina is hard to find, which is probably a good thing, since it's pretty vile (sorry Danes out there). It has a red rind, always. So, if you see fontina with a red rind, avoid it. Your search does not stop there, however, because then you have "young" fontina, which has a brown rind, and "old" fontina (we call it "aged" fontina), which has a pale yellow rind. You COULD use the aged here, but you'd be wasting its qualities. No, get a pound of the young fontina, which may very well be my very favorite melting cheese. Cut away the brown rind, and then cut the cheese into chunks. No need for surgical precision here. And, get about a half to 3/4 cup of heavy cream.
Cook your pasta in a big pot of salted water, while you preheat your oven to 400 degree and butter a 9x13 baking dish, either glass or ceramic. Do NOT cook the pasta to aldente; rather, undercook it. Don't undercook it to the point where it's raw, but if you taste it and you think "three more minutes," or even "five more minutes," you're done. Drain it, and put it back in the pot, with the fire off. Stir in the cheese, and the cream. You will watch the pasta suck up that cream. This is one of the things heavy cream does, which milk and low fat milks do not do: the cream just coats and/or gets sucked up in the pores of the pasta. That, ultimately, is why you need less of it than something else (although it DOES seem like a fair amount of cream. Don't worry though).
Pour the mass into that baking dish, and put it into the oven, for at least 30 minutes. You have to "follow your nose" with this one, because you will begin to get a "cheesy/toasty" smell when it's ready. And when it is, the top will be firm, the mass will look pale, but... the edges will be crisped. And brown. And of course, this is the best part.
You can make this. You can make this with about 20 minutes of work, and then have time to clean up, or choose your outfit, or , heaven knows, to make some meatloaf.
Do make this. Add it to your repertoire of baked pasta and cheese dishes. It will make you very happy. Promesso.
See, Annalena was catering a fundraiser for her favorite Uptown boys, and meatballs were on the menu. For what we would be charging, this was one where supermarket meat would have to do. But for Annalena's boys? Uh, no. So, reaching into the overfilled freezer, she pulled out two meatloaves that had been made with extremely high quality, grass fed, organic meats. All well and good.
Man does not live by meatloaf alone, however, as much as he does not live by bread alone. All things considered, however, Annalena would rather have the bread. The bottom line is, I could not see serving this without a starch. BUT... I did not or could not see my way to making a "true" macaroni and cheese, with the grated cheese, and the bechamel, etc. Scouting around the kitchen, however, I came up with a few things and this resulted.
And if I do say so myself, it's very good. It's more than very good. It is worth making againg. And I shall. So too should you. Here it comes.
I had a one kilo bag of pasta, so that's a bit over 2 pounds. The pasta were cappelletti which, strictly speaking, are stuffed pasta from Modena. "Cappelletti" means "little hats," and I guess these sort of looked like hats. I thought they looked like baby curls, and my Uptown boys did not disappoint with coming up with more erotic interpretations of this dry pasta. However you come out on this, you need a shaped pasta and take this as a reaffirmation that more than one type of pasta may fall under a name in pasta terminology, just as one name may cover more than one type of pasta. It is all ridiculously confusing. Annalena suggests that you simply follow the "categories" of pasta: long, short or soup. Use a "short" one. If you are not sure what constitutes long or short or soup, check the box. Long boxes hold long pasta. Bags, or squat boxes, hold short pasta. Soup pasta is tiny.
You can do that. I know you can. Get two pounds of it. Also get about a pound of fontina cheese.
Now another digression because there is more than one fontina. There is Danish fontina and there is Italian fontina. Annalena understands how THAT happened even less than she understands how cardamom became the leading dessert spice of Scandinavia. In any event, Danish fontina is hard to find, which is probably a good thing, since it's pretty vile (sorry Danes out there). It has a red rind, always. So, if you see fontina with a red rind, avoid it. Your search does not stop there, however, because then you have "young" fontina, which has a brown rind, and "old" fontina (we call it "aged" fontina), which has a pale yellow rind. You COULD use the aged here, but you'd be wasting its qualities. No, get a pound of the young fontina, which may very well be my very favorite melting cheese. Cut away the brown rind, and then cut the cheese into chunks. No need for surgical precision here. And, get about a half to 3/4 cup of heavy cream.
Cook your pasta in a big pot of salted water, while you preheat your oven to 400 degree and butter a 9x13 baking dish, either glass or ceramic. Do NOT cook the pasta to aldente; rather, undercook it. Don't undercook it to the point where it's raw, but if you taste it and you think "three more minutes," or even "five more minutes," you're done. Drain it, and put it back in the pot, with the fire off. Stir in the cheese, and the cream. You will watch the pasta suck up that cream. This is one of the things heavy cream does, which milk and low fat milks do not do: the cream just coats and/or gets sucked up in the pores of the pasta. That, ultimately, is why you need less of it than something else (although it DOES seem like a fair amount of cream. Don't worry though).
Pour the mass into that baking dish, and put it into the oven, for at least 30 minutes. You have to "follow your nose" with this one, because you will begin to get a "cheesy/toasty" smell when it's ready. And when it is, the top will be firm, the mass will look pale, but... the edges will be crisped. And brown. And of course, this is the best part.
You can make this. You can make this with about 20 minutes of work, and then have time to clean up, or choose your outfit, or , heaven knows, to make some meatloaf.
Do make this. Add it to your repertoire of baked pasta and cheese dishes. It will make you very happy. Promesso.
Friday, November 25, 2011
Temple Days revisited: curried cauliflower
Way back at the beginning of this blog, I wrote of how I was stealing an idea from Nigella Lawson. In one of her shows, she spoke of how, after one or more nights of wretched excess, she would have what she called "temple days," where she would cut back drastically on the richness of what she cooked, in an attempt to balance things out.
Indeed, do we not all try to work these compromises? Sometimes we try even in the middle of a dinner: serve the rich with something not so rich, and the meal will "balance" out, at least in theory.
Sometimes it works. But let us all confess: how many of us have pushed aside the steamed spinach, to have another mouthful of macaroni and cheese (speaking of which, Annalena will be giving you YET ANOTHER macaroni and cheese recipe soon. Aren't you all excited, my wonderful food geeks?).
As we enter the month of excess after excess after excess, the balance beam of rich food and not so rich food becomes more difficult. Annalena believes that one of the reasons for the problem is that these "temple" foods often, well, TASTE like they're good for you. Annalena loves plain boiled spinach, and would eat it gladly; however, knowing that she's SUPPOSED to eat it, because of the pork chop (or lamb roast or what have you), on the plate, somehow makes it less desirable. So, ragazzi, to get something that is good for you into you, the so-called "temple food," must appeal to you in a way that makes you reach for THAT, instead of the mac and cheese (or whatever your "poison" may be).
Cauliflower is a vegetable of which , I have said often, that it needs some help. There are people who love just plain boiled cauliflower. I do not know any of them. Its pure white color (in its pure white form), is appealing in a sense. But in another sense, does it not make you think you are eating hospital food?
Ah, the issues, the issues, the issues. If you care not to follow this internal debate, just go to the recipe. Annalena served this as part of her Thanksgiving dinner, which by all measures was unbridled excess. She tried to add some nourishing, good for you food with the others and this cauliflower recipe was a very big hit. Annalena was pleased.
And, here's an added benefit. This is ridiculously easy to do, IF you have good spices. And if you do not have good, fresh spices, why not? Go to the store immediately and get some.
This recipe makes an enormous amount, so here is Annalena's suggestion: serve half of it alongside an entry, like a turkey... or a pork chop..., and later in the week, put it over rice, or even pasta (where it will seem rather exotic, in a Sicilian/Middle Eastern kind of way).
So, here we go. First, the spices. You need half a teaspoon of tumeric. This is the stuff that makes curry yellow, and if it's fresh, when you smell it, you will KNOW it is the essence of curry. This will be the main ingredient, and I will give you the other spices in ratio to this, because while all of us have a half teaspoon somewhere, few have a 1/4 teaspoon measure, and even fewer a 1/8 teaspoon measure. You add to the tumeric, half as much black pepper (1/4 teaspoon), and then a fourth as much (1/8 teaspoon) of each of cayenne pepper, nutmeg and cloves. Finally add 1/2 teaspoon of dry ginger, and mix this up.
It feels like an odd mix, doesn't it? You have a curry spice, and then spices you associate with dessert (clove, nutmeg, ginger), and then pepper. Ah, but it works ragazzi, yes it does.
Now, put that spice aside, and get yourself 2-3 heads of cauliflower.
That's right: 2-3 heads of it. Here's the part that takes the longest, and it doesn't take long. You want to go at that cauliflower and cut the tiniest florets possible. This means you WILL be wasting much of it, unless you want to save it and make a cauliflower soup, which is admirable, but consider how much of this stuff you can eat in a week. You will want about 8 cups of florets, which ultimately is not that much. Don't believe me? Fill a cup with the vegetable and you'll say "OH. Annalena was right."
You should be saying that frequently. OK, now you have the cauliflower. While you are deflowering the heads, get a big pot of salty water boiling. Drop the florets in, and cook them for no more than two minutes. You should do this in batches, because (i) they will cook faster and (ii) your kitchen will not smell of cauliflower if you do so. As they come out of the water, drop them on paper towels, and let them dry. You are doing this because of what you are going to do next,which is make a spice butter.
Oh, stop fretting. Here's what you do. Put half a stick of unsalted butter in a pan, over low heat. Add your spice mix, melt the butter and take it off the heat. The fat will cause the spices to give up some of their color and fragrance, and now your kitchen will truly smell exotic.
Put all of that dried cauliflower into a bowl, and pour the butter over it. Turn it gently, with your hands, and taste a floret for salt. Add more if you need it and, finally, squeeze a lime over the whole mess.
Not so hard, huh? Look up the calories, etc, in cauliflower, and then you shall see, as you have this massive bowl of stuff in front of you, that the four tablespoons of butter, with their 480 calories, are nearly irrelevant. You can easily serve 8 people with this, maybe more. But if you like it, eat it all and make it again. It does go with just about anything. The Guyman and I will be having it with pasta, and probably for lunch just as it is. It was wonderful as a vegetable with the Thanksgiving spread.
Cauliflower is a regular actor in Southern Italian Christmas dinners, especially in something called "insalata reinforzata," so you will not be breaking any taboos if, when you make your meal of the seven fishes, you made this to go with it. And it will be good.
Have you your own "Temple Day" foods? Please let Annalena know. She would love to add them to her arsenal of the good, the lean, the tasty.
Indeed, do we not all try to work these compromises? Sometimes we try even in the middle of a dinner: serve the rich with something not so rich, and the meal will "balance" out, at least in theory.
Sometimes it works. But let us all confess: how many of us have pushed aside the steamed spinach, to have another mouthful of macaroni and cheese (speaking of which, Annalena will be giving you YET ANOTHER macaroni and cheese recipe soon. Aren't you all excited, my wonderful food geeks?).
As we enter the month of excess after excess after excess, the balance beam of rich food and not so rich food becomes more difficult. Annalena believes that one of the reasons for the problem is that these "temple" foods often, well, TASTE like they're good for you. Annalena loves plain boiled spinach, and would eat it gladly; however, knowing that she's SUPPOSED to eat it, because of the pork chop (or lamb roast or what have you), on the plate, somehow makes it less desirable. So, ragazzi, to get something that is good for you into you, the so-called "temple food," must appeal to you in a way that makes you reach for THAT, instead of the mac and cheese (or whatever your "poison" may be).
Cauliflower is a vegetable of which , I have said often, that it needs some help. There are people who love just plain boiled cauliflower. I do not know any of them. Its pure white color (in its pure white form), is appealing in a sense. But in another sense, does it not make you think you are eating hospital food?
Ah, the issues, the issues, the issues. If you care not to follow this internal debate, just go to the recipe. Annalena served this as part of her Thanksgiving dinner, which by all measures was unbridled excess. She tried to add some nourishing, good for you food with the others and this cauliflower recipe was a very big hit. Annalena was pleased.
And, here's an added benefit. This is ridiculously easy to do, IF you have good spices. And if you do not have good, fresh spices, why not? Go to the store immediately and get some.
This recipe makes an enormous amount, so here is Annalena's suggestion: serve half of it alongside an entry, like a turkey... or a pork chop..., and later in the week, put it over rice, or even pasta (where it will seem rather exotic, in a Sicilian/Middle Eastern kind of way).
So, here we go. First, the spices. You need half a teaspoon of tumeric. This is the stuff that makes curry yellow, and if it's fresh, when you smell it, you will KNOW it is the essence of curry. This will be the main ingredient, and I will give you the other spices in ratio to this, because while all of us have a half teaspoon somewhere, few have a 1/4 teaspoon measure, and even fewer a 1/8 teaspoon measure. You add to the tumeric, half as much black pepper (1/4 teaspoon), and then a fourth as much (1/8 teaspoon) of each of cayenne pepper, nutmeg and cloves. Finally add 1/2 teaspoon of dry ginger, and mix this up.
It feels like an odd mix, doesn't it? You have a curry spice, and then spices you associate with dessert (clove, nutmeg, ginger), and then pepper. Ah, but it works ragazzi, yes it does.
Now, put that spice aside, and get yourself 2-3 heads of cauliflower.
That's right: 2-3 heads of it. Here's the part that takes the longest, and it doesn't take long. You want to go at that cauliflower and cut the tiniest florets possible. This means you WILL be wasting much of it, unless you want to save it and make a cauliflower soup, which is admirable, but consider how much of this stuff you can eat in a week. You will want about 8 cups of florets, which ultimately is not that much. Don't believe me? Fill a cup with the vegetable and you'll say "OH. Annalena was right."
You should be saying that frequently. OK, now you have the cauliflower. While you are deflowering the heads, get a big pot of salty water boiling. Drop the florets in, and cook them for no more than two minutes. You should do this in batches, because (i) they will cook faster and (ii) your kitchen will not smell of cauliflower if you do so. As they come out of the water, drop them on paper towels, and let them dry. You are doing this because of what you are going to do next,which is make a spice butter.
Oh, stop fretting. Here's what you do. Put half a stick of unsalted butter in a pan, over low heat. Add your spice mix, melt the butter and take it off the heat. The fat will cause the spices to give up some of their color and fragrance, and now your kitchen will truly smell exotic.
Put all of that dried cauliflower into a bowl, and pour the butter over it. Turn it gently, with your hands, and taste a floret for salt. Add more if you need it and, finally, squeeze a lime over the whole mess.
Not so hard, huh? Look up the calories, etc, in cauliflower, and then you shall see, as you have this massive bowl of stuff in front of you, that the four tablespoons of butter, with their 480 calories, are nearly irrelevant. You can easily serve 8 people with this, maybe more. But if you like it, eat it all and make it again. It does go with just about anything. The Guyman and I will be having it with pasta, and probably for lunch just as it is. It was wonderful as a vegetable with the Thanksgiving spread.
Cauliflower is a regular actor in Southern Italian Christmas dinners, especially in something called "insalata reinforzata," so you will not be breaking any taboos if, when you make your meal of the seven fishes, you made this to go with it. And it will be good.
Have you your own "Temple Day" foods? Please let Annalena know. She would love to add them to her arsenal of the good, the lean, the tasty.
Monday, November 21, 2011
Good enough for Thanksgiving: Chanterelles and root vegetable soup
As promised, we come to the third soup in our trilogy. And as promised, this one will be the most challenging to make (although it's not so hard), and it will be the most expensive one; however, let me say this of the soup: when I presented it to the Guyman, he took a spoonful and said "this is GOOD...." So, ragazzi, if I were you, I would give this one a try. We ate it, and then I decided that its flavor was such that it deserved a place on the Thanksgiving table. This post may be a little late for you to incorporate it into your Thanksgiving dinner, but after all, there's Xmas, and of course, there's always any night of the week.
This soup involves some parsnips. With brussel sprouts, they constitute the duo of vegetables which Annalena despises. But when combined with other things, they are just, just fine. Give this a try. You'll like it. And Annalena shall talk about the expensive ingredients, which are dried morels, and wild mushrooms.
First, let's start with the regular ingredients. You're going to need a couple of onions. Slice them, don't bother chopping, and then an equal amount of parsnips and carrots, chopped. The carrot should be your guide: use one that is not huge. You know the type: the one you'd pick up to snack on. Parsnips tend to be bigger, so if you're using one carrot, look for a small parsnip, or, if you like their flavor, use a big one. Clean them, and then chop them coarsely. You will also need a few branches of thyme , a bay leaf or two, and a quart and a half of broth, be it chicken or vegetable. DO know that most vegetable broths have a strong tomato element. You are also going to need a couple tablespoons of olive oil, and a couple of cloves of garlic, which you'll mince.
So far, so good. Now, where's the expense. Here we come. You need a couple of tablespoons of chopped, dried morels. Now, these really are ridiculously expensive. You can get a very small bag of them at a good grocer or fine food store, however, and if you keep them away from critters, they will last forever. It's worth the small investment. Chop those guys up until you have the requisite two tablespoons.
The other expensive ingredient, is wild mushrooms. When I say "wild" mushrooms, I do mean the foraged type, not the ones you can buy which have been "cultivated." If you make this in the spring, you can probably get morels. Chanterelles are more widely available, and you will find others, like hedgehogs, etc. Again, wild mushrooms are very expensive. I have seen them go up to 60 or 70 bucks a pound. You only need half a pound for this recipe, however, and in terms of cost, chanterelles are almost never that much. Mine were 30 bucks a pound.
Now, let's get to the cooking. Melt that butter, and add all those vegetables and herbs, and a big pinch of salt and pepper. Cook at medium heat, stirring every now and then, until you get a little browning on the vegetables.
While that is happening, bring about a cup of water to the boil, and put the crushed morels in that. Let them soak while all of this is happening. They'll be happy there.
Finally, on a burner next to the pot where you're cooking the soup vegetables, add your two tablespoons of olive oil, and a chopped up half pound of the mushrooms. Don't worry about finesse in the chopping: we're going to puree this all at the end. After about five minutes, add some salt, and those chopped garlic cloves. Cook for a couple more minutes. Put them to the side.
Remember those soup veggies? Ok, add the stock the reconstituted dried mushrooms, and the water from the mushrooms, and bring everything to a low simmer, for about twenty minutes. Your "test" ingredient here, is the parsnips. When they are melting soft, you're ready. Pull out the bay leaves, and the stems from the thyme branches. Put the cooked wild mushrooms in with everything else, and give it a big stir. Let this sit to cool for a bit, and then, get out your blender and puree this in batches.
This will give you a good quart and a half of soup, which is six cups. So if you're serving this as a first course, you have enough for six. You could also dilute it. The flavor is that strong. If you try that route, Annalena suggests half dairy (cream or creme fraiche or half and half), and stock.
Yes, this one was a little more work than the other two, and yes, it was WAY more expensive. But it all works out . If you made the split pea soup, you spent almost nothing. You have the scratch left over from the first pot of soup. Use it. Make yourself something good.
Annalena may excuse herself as she preps for Thanksgiving, but then again, she may not. If you do not see me, know that I am in the kitchen, devising new ways to get you to eat your veggies, and all else good.
This soup involves some parsnips. With brussel sprouts, they constitute the duo of vegetables which Annalena despises. But when combined with other things, they are just, just fine. Give this a try. You'll like it. And Annalena shall talk about the expensive ingredients, which are dried morels, and wild mushrooms.
First, let's start with the regular ingredients. You're going to need a couple of onions. Slice them, don't bother chopping, and then an equal amount of parsnips and carrots, chopped. The carrot should be your guide: use one that is not huge. You know the type: the one you'd pick up to snack on. Parsnips tend to be bigger, so if you're using one carrot, look for a small parsnip, or, if you like their flavor, use a big one. Clean them, and then chop them coarsely. You will also need a few branches of thyme , a bay leaf or two, and a quart and a half of broth, be it chicken or vegetable. DO know that most vegetable broths have a strong tomato element. You are also going to need a couple tablespoons of olive oil, and a couple of cloves of garlic, which you'll mince.
So far, so good. Now, where's the expense. Here we come. You need a couple of tablespoons of chopped, dried morels. Now, these really are ridiculously expensive. You can get a very small bag of them at a good grocer or fine food store, however, and if you keep them away from critters, they will last forever. It's worth the small investment. Chop those guys up until you have the requisite two tablespoons.
The other expensive ingredient, is wild mushrooms. When I say "wild" mushrooms, I do mean the foraged type, not the ones you can buy which have been "cultivated." If you make this in the spring, you can probably get morels. Chanterelles are more widely available, and you will find others, like hedgehogs, etc. Again, wild mushrooms are very expensive. I have seen them go up to 60 or 70 bucks a pound. You only need half a pound for this recipe, however, and in terms of cost, chanterelles are almost never that much. Mine were 30 bucks a pound.
Now, let's get to the cooking. Melt that butter, and add all those vegetables and herbs, and a big pinch of salt and pepper. Cook at medium heat, stirring every now and then, until you get a little browning on the vegetables.
While that is happening, bring about a cup of water to the boil, and put the crushed morels in that. Let them soak while all of this is happening. They'll be happy there.
Finally, on a burner next to the pot where you're cooking the soup vegetables, add your two tablespoons of olive oil, and a chopped up half pound of the mushrooms. Don't worry about finesse in the chopping: we're going to puree this all at the end. After about five minutes, add some salt, and those chopped garlic cloves. Cook for a couple more minutes. Put them to the side.
Remember those soup veggies? Ok, add the stock the reconstituted dried mushrooms, and the water from the mushrooms, and bring everything to a low simmer, for about twenty minutes. Your "test" ingredient here, is the parsnips. When they are melting soft, you're ready. Pull out the bay leaves, and the stems from the thyme branches. Put the cooked wild mushrooms in with everything else, and give it a big stir. Let this sit to cool for a bit, and then, get out your blender and puree this in batches.
This will give you a good quart and a half of soup, which is six cups. So if you're serving this as a first course, you have enough for six. You could also dilute it. The flavor is that strong. If you try that route, Annalena suggests half dairy (cream or creme fraiche or half and half), and stock.
Yes, this one was a little more work than the other two, and yes, it was WAY more expensive. But it all works out . If you made the split pea soup, you spent almost nothing. You have the scratch left over from the first pot of soup. Use it. Make yourself something good.
Annalena may excuse herself as she preps for Thanksgiving, but then again, she may not. If you do not see me, know that I am in the kitchen, devising new ways to get you to eat your veggies, and all else good.
Sunday, November 20, 2011
Soup the second: bean and pumpkin
Now, that may sound like a very unusual combination to you. Those of you who grew up in NY, at a certain point in time, however, will recognize what Annalena says, when she speaks of grammar school history classes. Those of you with expansive interests in cooking will recognize things, too.
In Annalena's ragazzo days, it was required that students take a full year course in New York history. Apparently, it was the rule. Are there others who went through this course of study too? Well, in the class, you learned, or at least were taught, the history of the "five nations:" the Native Americans who confederated in New York, before our European ancestors came and did what they did. Annalena remembers precious little of those classes, except for the nuns talking about how the beatific monks and priests like Sir Isaac Joques were tortured (she remembers the part about ripping out the fingernails most), and wonders why we never got the other side of the story, and also remembers, surprise, surprise, surprise, FOOD.
The five nations relied on what they referred to as the "three sisters" for sustenance: corn, squash and beans. I always remembered this, and perhaps it was a sign of what was to come. In any event, as I have learned more about food, and different food "by ways," I have learned that the so-called "three sisters" are somewhat ubiquitous in Native American history and culinary lore. Regardless of where the nation was, the trio exists. The TYPE of corn, the TYPE of bean and the TYPE of squash may differ, but it's there.
Had I an extra lifetime, I might investigate this. There's a dissertation in food anthropology out there for someone.
So, if you think about that, and if you think about nutrition profiles, the combination makes sense. Beans are loaded with protein and are low in fat. Squash is not a good source of protein, but provides Vitamins, like A and D. Corn offers up its "healthy" fat. So there you are.
Well, in designing this soup, Annalena thought about adding corn meal, but decided not to. The reasons will become clear as we go on. The squash, was pumpkin, as it was "cook with Max" day, and Max wanted to cook with pumpkin.
This has NOT been a good year for pumpkin. It seems that, wherever you were in the country, the weather was bad at "the" critical point in time for pumpkins. Hence, they were in short supply. Annalena read that the entire California crop was essentially left rotting on the vines. And indeed, Annalena's farmer friends spoke of low yields, and high prices. Indeed, part of the reason Annalena has disappeared is as a result of a project she undertook for a friend, relating to pumpkins, for which she was not thanked. Nor was she invited to the eventual party to which the pumpkins were used. So, if you are inclined to make this soup, and you do not have pumpkin, use another squash. It will be good. It will not be the same, but it will be good. And if you involve someone in helping you, thank them. It doesn't cost anything.
To the beans: Annalena had fresh, frozen shell beans. These, too, suffered this year, but she had gotten some before the bad weather took them out. If you make this soup, use the dry bean of your choosing. I would suggest a lighter colored one: cannelinis, borlottis, something along those lines; however, I am sure darker beans will work as well. You will need to soak them the night before. Are canned beans an option? Well... no. The more Annalena reads about the industrial canning process, even with organic beans, she fears to use them, unless it is a TRUE emergency.
You will not need a whole pumpkin for this soup. You will need a piece that is about 2-3 pounds. You can buy such from various sources. Farmers will sell slices of their pumpkins. And if you can't, well, buy a small pumpkin and use the rest of it to make other pumpkin dishes, like the ones in this blog.
Your 3 pound slice of pumpkin will have a thick skin on it. If you go at it with a vegetable parer, you will regret it. So get out your biggest knife, and pretend you are working with a melon, to skin it. Then cut the pumpkin into small cubes - say 1/3 of an inch.
While you are doing this, get the beans. I did forget measurements above, and I am sorry. Start with a cup and a half of dried beans, and soak them overnight. Then, put them in a pot with scads of water, about an hour before you plan to finish off the soup. Put them to a low simmer and get back to the pumpkin.
You will also need the "holy trinity" of soup making, but not all of them. Review: do you all remember the holy trinity?: onion, celery and carrot. We leave out the carrot here, because the pumpkin is sweet and we don't want too sweet a soup. Hence, we double the celery. Or, we replace the carrot with fennel. We can also substitute the onion with leeks. You want a total of 1.5 cups of roughly chopped vegetable: .5 of the onion element, and a total of 1 cup of the others. Get about 3 tablespoons of olive oil or vegetable oil hot in a big pan, and add those veggies, together with a big pinch of salt, and perhaps a few bay leaves. Annalena also likes rosemary in this soup. Your choice there. You may also prefer thyme instead. Thyme will make the soup less "insistent" if you know what I mean.
When the onion has lost its clear color and gone sort of translucent, add your pumpkin. Swirl it around in the oil, and then add about 6 cups of stock, or a mix of stock and water. I prefer chicken stock, and I prefer ALL stock in this recipe, but again, you can do this with vegetable stock. Indeed, what some will do is take the seeds and skin of the pumpkin and simmer that in water to get a squash stock. Annalena has done that, and has decided it is not worth the trouble. She DOES, however, cook the skin and seeds in the chicken stock when time permits.
In any event, add your stock, and now drain the cooked beans, and add those to the soup pot as well. Taste the liquid, and adjust for salt if you see fit. Put the cover on the pot, slightly ajar, and then go away for thirty minutes. You then want to taste the beans, as they will need the longest time to cook. If they are not tender enough for you, continue to cook them. Hence, you cook to the taste of the beans.
When you are ready, you have a couple of options with the soup. One is to simply remove the herbs and serve it up as it is, and it will be fine. You may also choose to let it cook and puree part of it. Also delicious. What I like to do, however, is precisely what I suggested with the split pea soup. If you run a spoon through the tender vegetables, at low heat, they will break up, and you will get a soup with different textures: pieces of pumpkin, whole beans, bean puree, pumpkin puree, and it will be wonderful.
That wasn't very difficult now, was it? And ultimately, the most expensive ingredient in this soup was the pumpkin. If 3 pounds of pumpkin costs you 5.00, that is a lot, so I think we can call this an economical dish as well, can't we?
A bit more work, and a bit more money than the pea soup, but we're still doing fine, yes?
Next up, more work, more money, but a soup worthy of the Thanksgiving table. Which is where it shall be.
In Annalena's ragazzo days, it was required that students take a full year course in New York history. Apparently, it was the rule. Are there others who went through this course of study too? Well, in the class, you learned, or at least were taught, the history of the "five nations:" the Native Americans who confederated in New York, before our European ancestors came and did what they did. Annalena remembers precious little of those classes, except for the nuns talking about how the beatific monks and priests like Sir Isaac Joques were tortured (she remembers the part about ripping out the fingernails most), and wonders why we never got the other side of the story, and also remembers, surprise, surprise, surprise, FOOD.
The five nations relied on what they referred to as the "three sisters" for sustenance: corn, squash and beans. I always remembered this, and perhaps it was a sign of what was to come. In any event, as I have learned more about food, and different food "by ways," I have learned that the so-called "three sisters" are somewhat ubiquitous in Native American history and culinary lore. Regardless of where the nation was, the trio exists. The TYPE of corn, the TYPE of bean and the TYPE of squash may differ, but it's there.
Had I an extra lifetime, I might investigate this. There's a dissertation in food anthropology out there for someone.
So, if you think about that, and if you think about nutrition profiles, the combination makes sense. Beans are loaded with protein and are low in fat. Squash is not a good source of protein, but provides Vitamins, like A and D. Corn offers up its "healthy" fat. So there you are.
Well, in designing this soup, Annalena thought about adding corn meal, but decided not to. The reasons will become clear as we go on. The squash, was pumpkin, as it was "cook with Max" day, and Max wanted to cook with pumpkin.
This has NOT been a good year for pumpkin. It seems that, wherever you were in the country, the weather was bad at "the" critical point in time for pumpkins. Hence, they were in short supply. Annalena read that the entire California crop was essentially left rotting on the vines. And indeed, Annalena's farmer friends spoke of low yields, and high prices. Indeed, part of the reason Annalena has disappeared is as a result of a project she undertook for a friend, relating to pumpkins, for which she was not thanked. Nor was she invited to the eventual party to which the pumpkins were used. So, if you are inclined to make this soup, and you do not have pumpkin, use another squash. It will be good. It will not be the same, but it will be good. And if you involve someone in helping you, thank them. It doesn't cost anything.
To the beans: Annalena had fresh, frozen shell beans. These, too, suffered this year, but she had gotten some before the bad weather took them out. If you make this soup, use the dry bean of your choosing. I would suggest a lighter colored one: cannelinis, borlottis, something along those lines; however, I am sure darker beans will work as well. You will need to soak them the night before. Are canned beans an option? Well... no. The more Annalena reads about the industrial canning process, even with organic beans, she fears to use them, unless it is a TRUE emergency.
You will not need a whole pumpkin for this soup. You will need a piece that is about 2-3 pounds. You can buy such from various sources. Farmers will sell slices of their pumpkins. And if you can't, well, buy a small pumpkin and use the rest of it to make other pumpkin dishes, like the ones in this blog.
Your 3 pound slice of pumpkin will have a thick skin on it. If you go at it with a vegetable parer, you will regret it. So get out your biggest knife, and pretend you are working with a melon, to skin it. Then cut the pumpkin into small cubes - say 1/3 of an inch.
While you are doing this, get the beans. I did forget measurements above, and I am sorry. Start with a cup and a half of dried beans, and soak them overnight. Then, put them in a pot with scads of water, about an hour before you plan to finish off the soup. Put them to a low simmer and get back to the pumpkin.
You will also need the "holy trinity" of soup making, but not all of them. Review: do you all remember the holy trinity?: onion, celery and carrot. We leave out the carrot here, because the pumpkin is sweet and we don't want too sweet a soup. Hence, we double the celery. Or, we replace the carrot with fennel. We can also substitute the onion with leeks. You want a total of 1.5 cups of roughly chopped vegetable: .5 of the onion element, and a total of 1 cup of the others. Get about 3 tablespoons of olive oil or vegetable oil hot in a big pan, and add those veggies, together with a big pinch of salt, and perhaps a few bay leaves. Annalena also likes rosemary in this soup. Your choice there. You may also prefer thyme instead. Thyme will make the soup less "insistent" if you know what I mean.
When the onion has lost its clear color and gone sort of translucent, add your pumpkin. Swirl it around in the oil, and then add about 6 cups of stock, or a mix of stock and water. I prefer chicken stock, and I prefer ALL stock in this recipe, but again, you can do this with vegetable stock. Indeed, what some will do is take the seeds and skin of the pumpkin and simmer that in water to get a squash stock. Annalena has done that, and has decided it is not worth the trouble. She DOES, however, cook the skin and seeds in the chicken stock when time permits.
In any event, add your stock, and now drain the cooked beans, and add those to the soup pot as well. Taste the liquid, and adjust for salt if you see fit. Put the cover on the pot, slightly ajar, and then go away for thirty minutes. You then want to taste the beans, as they will need the longest time to cook. If they are not tender enough for you, continue to cook them. Hence, you cook to the taste of the beans.
When you are ready, you have a couple of options with the soup. One is to simply remove the herbs and serve it up as it is, and it will be fine. You may also choose to let it cook and puree part of it. Also delicious. What I like to do, however, is precisely what I suggested with the split pea soup. If you run a spoon through the tender vegetables, at low heat, they will break up, and you will get a soup with different textures: pieces of pumpkin, whole beans, bean puree, pumpkin puree, and it will be wonderful.
That wasn't very difficult now, was it? And ultimately, the most expensive ingredient in this soup was the pumpkin. If 3 pounds of pumpkin costs you 5.00, that is a lot, so I think we can call this an economical dish as well, can't we?
A bit more work, and a bit more money than the pea soup, but we're still doing fine, yes?
Next up, more work, more money, but a soup worthy of the Thanksgiving table. Which is where it shall be.
Saturday, November 19, 2011
Taking the 'pulse' of the season: we start our soup series with split pea soup
Did you miss me, ragazzi? Yes, Annalena has been absent again, with things both good and bad. Ah, the world turns doesn't it? We lose some, we gain some, and as my Buddhist friends would say the wheel of dharma turns. All things are for a reason, would that we understood them. Annalena sometimes wonders if any of us understand anything, and there are those periods where, even the kitchen does not bring comfort.
I obscure matters to protect both the innocent and the guilty, as a fitful explanation for absence. Now, to the kitchen.
It is that time of year where most of us, if not all of us, feel the yearning for: soup. When it is THAT cold, or maybe not THAT cold, but that KIND of a cold... you know what I mean, where you just can't get warm enough, soup is perhaps the only thing that will do. And indeed, Annalena has been making a lot of soup lately, and this entry will be the first of three, recounting different soups. All are easy, and we will be moving from the easiest of the three, and the most economical, to the most complex and most expensive. Nonetheless, none are difficult.
Split pea soup: you've had it before, and maybe you liked it. There are people who have wonderful memories of it. Most, however, speak of thick, foul tasting, green "stuff" that made them swear off of it for years.
Annalena did not have split pea soup when she grew up. It was simply not in Nana's repertoire, and perhaps was lucky that, the very first split pea soup she ever had, was from a wonderful vegetarian cookbook, long out of print, that was considered the "Joy of Cooking" of vegetarian cooking. She believes it was by a husband and wife pair, who went by the last name of Goldbeck. Does that ring a bell to any of you? If so, please enlighten Annalena, as her feeble mind no longer remembers the names to give complete credit to them.
Well, I have been having a yearning for this soup for quite some time. Perhaps at least a year. Finally, the stars were in alignment, and I made it. It is how I remember the recipe, but there is no doubt that I have made changes. Notwithstanding this, you cannot get much more basic than this soup. Nor can you find a recipe that is much less work. So let's do it. Let's make some soup, and let's get warm.
This is going to make a lot. Perhaps close to 3 quarts. You have been warned. So get set to share.
Chop up two large onions, two or three carrots, and two or three ribs of celery. I cut mine into large chunks and used the food processor, but when I first made it, I remember chopping by hand. Either will do.
In the original, I did not saute' the vegetables in oil, but I like it this way. Leave the oil out if you like. Get a couple tablespoons vegetable oil hot, and toss in those chopped vegetables, with a couple of bay leaves. If you want, you can also add some garlic. For once, I did not add it. Anyway, saute them for a few minutes, until the onion loses its transparency, and then add two quarts of water, and a pound of yellow split peas. Also add AT LEAST a full tablespoon of salt. You will probably want to add more, but start here.
After you've done this, lower the heat to low/medium, put a cover on the pot, leave it slightly ajar, and go away for half an hour. Come back and stir, and taste the liquid. This is when you add more salt if you like. Then go away again, and come back in half an hour.
You will have been cooking this soup for about an hour and the peas will have begun to fall apart, but will not be mush. If you stir the soup, the peas will break down further, and this is something you should do, because you can very much get the texture you want, simply by stirring.
The longer you cook this soup, the thicker it will get. I stop after about an hour, and a few minutes of stirring.
Now, go back through that recipe: carrots, celery, onions, bay leaves, split peas, water, salt. Can you get more elemental? And what work did you do besides slicing and stirring? And what did you get? A LOT of lovely vegan soup that will stick to your ribs, nourish you, warm you, and get you friends when you share it.
If you are so inclined, add some cooked sausage, or the traditional franks. Or, go in another direction and make it "Indian" by adding yogurt , curried spices, or anything along those lines. (What you will find, with many of the soups Annalena provides to you, is that you can turn them into full meal type dishes by adding a protein at the end).
Annalena wants to dedicate this recipe to her bud Johnny D, whom she misses. He'll get this, and probably make it. You'd best do so Johnny D. I will be checking in on you...
I obscure matters to protect both the innocent and the guilty, as a fitful explanation for absence. Now, to the kitchen.
It is that time of year where most of us, if not all of us, feel the yearning for: soup. When it is THAT cold, or maybe not THAT cold, but that KIND of a cold... you know what I mean, where you just can't get warm enough, soup is perhaps the only thing that will do. And indeed, Annalena has been making a lot of soup lately, and this entry will be the first of three, recounting different soups. All are easy, and we will be moving from the easiest of the three, and the most economical, to the most complex and most expensive. Nonetheless, none are difficult.
Split pea soup: you've had it before, and maybe you liked it. There are people who have wonderful memories of it. Most, however, speak of thick, foul tasting, green "stuff" that made them swear off of it for years.
Annalena did not have split pea soup when she grew up. It was simply not in Nana's repertoire, and perhaps was lucky that, the very first split pea soup she ever had, was from a wonderful vegetarian cookbook, long out of print, that was considered the "Joy of Cooking" of vegetarian cooking. She believes it was by a husband and wife pair, who went by the last name of Goldbeck. Does that ring a bell to any of you? If so, please enlighten Annalena, as her feeble mind no longer remembers the names to give complete credit to them.
Well, I have been having a yearning for this soup for quite some time. Perhaps at least a year. Finally, the stars were in alignment, and I made it. It is how I remember the recipe, but there is no doubt that I have made changes. Notwithstanding this, you cannot get much more basic than this soup. Nor can you find a recipe that is much less work. So let's do it. Let's make some soup, and let's get warm.
This is going to make a lot. Perhaps close to 3 quarts. You have been warned. So get set to share.
Chop up two large onions, two or three carrots, and two or three ribs of celery. I cut mine into large chunks and used the food processor, but when I first made it, I remember chopping by hand. Either will do.
In the original, I did not saute' the vegetables in oil, but I like it this way. Leave the oil out if you like. Get a couple tablespoons vegetable oil hot, and toss in those chopped vegetables, with a couple of bay leaves. If you want, you can also add some garlic. For once, I did not add it. Anyway, saute them for a few minutes, until the onion loses its transparency, and then add two quarts of water, and a pound of yellow split peas. Also add AT LEAST a full tablespoon of salt. You will probably want to add more, but start here.
After you've done this, lower the heat to low/medium, put a cover on the pot, leave it slightly ajar, and go away for half an hour. Come back and stir, and taste the liquid. This is when you add more salt if you like. Then go away again, and come back in half an hour.
You will have been cooking this soup for about an hour and the peas will have begun to fall apart, but will not be mush. If you stir the soup, the peas will break down further, and this is something you should do, because you can very much get the texture you want, simply by stirring.
The longer you cook this soup, the thicker it will get. I stop after about an hour, and a few minutes of stirring.
Now, go back through that recipe: carrots, celery, onions, bay leaves, split peas, water, salt. Can you get more elemental? And what work did you do besides slicing and stirring? And what did you get? A LOT of lovely vegan soup that will stick to your ribs, nourish you, warm you, and get you friends when you share it.
If you are so inclined, add some cooked sausage, or the traditional franks. Or, go in another direction and make it "Indian" by adding yogurt , curried spices, or anything along those lines. (What you will find, with many of the soups Annalena provides to you, is that you can turn them into full meal type dishes by adding a protein at the end).
Annalena wants to dedicate this recipe to her bud Johnny D, whom she misses. He'll get this, and probably make it. You'd best do so Johnny D. I will be checking in on you...
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