You've seen it, or at least heard about it: the squash which, when you cook it, shreds up like spaghetti noodles. You may have even seen some of the recipes "just mix it with your favorite spaghetti sauce, and your kids will EAT THEIR VEGETABLES"
Not so fast. I can say with certainty that I have tried to learn to love this vegetable for 19 years. I remember when I was given my first one: a secretary named Carol left it on my desk chair one day, when I was at lunch. I recognized it, because spaghetti squash has a very unique, albeit nondescript look about it: it's oblong and yellow, something like a very misformed melon. Of course , I had to try it.
THAT's where the fun began: every single recipe I saw called upon me to boil it. Now, spaghetti squash loses its noodle like shape if you cut it up, so you have to boil it WHOLE, and that's where the fun begins. Guestimate: how long do you think it takes to boil a 3-4 pound squash with a thick skin? If you guessed 2-2.5 hours, you're close. Try about 3. Now, you have a very hot, wet, soft, mass to deal with. It's got to cool down. Add on another couple of hours. Then you cut it open and you have: mess. Wet hot squash and seeds all over. And when it's all done it tastes, well, watery and disgusting.
I tried way too many sauces to try to make this good and, finally, I gave up.
BUT... there's always someone who pushes you back to those old spots. This time it was the incredibly talented Ryan Tate, who cooks at Savoy. A couple of years ago, Ryan served up a dish, which I believe involved duck confit, on top of a pancake of spaghetti squash. Wonderful. I tried again, without checking with Ryan. Yet again, failure. THIS year, spaghetti squash carbonara showed up on the menu. Again, fabulous. But this time:
"Hey, Ryan, my spaghetti squash always turns out wrong. How come?"
His reply: "How the fuck do you fuck it up? You cut it in half, you bake it, and you're done. What's the problem."
It was a "WOW. I COULDA HAD A V 8 " moment (actually not. I HATE V8). But... store that in the back of your head, Annalena, together with your trashy memoirs, where your black sweater is hung, and the phone number of your first boy friend (yup, Clark, I still remember it). And then, do nothing with it.
Until you see them on sale at the vegetable market and hurriedly grab one on your way out.
Following Ryan's instructions, I made a long, vertical cut through the beast, oiled it, and laid it, face down on parchment paper, and baked it, for 350. The skin had softened, but not to the point of pulp, which is what Ryan told me I needed. I let it cool for about ten minutes. Then, I scraped out the seeds with a spoon, and, with a fork, gently scraped out the flesh. SUCCESS!!! I had just under 3 cups of spaghetti squash that really looked like long, thin noodled. I was planning to try some butter and cheese concoction.
And then... going through my file of "things to cook NOW", I found a recipe for a crostini involving curried spaghetti squash and chickpeas. Now, that sounded good, but not what I wanted. So I read through the thing to see if I could do it as a side dish vegetable, without chick peas.
Yes, I could. And I did. And it's terrific. Here's how we do it.
First, cook up the spaghetti squash like it's explained above. You can do this well ahead of time and store it in the fridge. Now, we're going to make the curry. You need some good spices here: it's a curry, so play with it. I used a tablespoon of coriander, that I ground (glad to have that coffee bean grinder), and half of that, of ground cumin. I put them, together with a half teaspoon of hot pepper into that mill, and ground them together. Then, I mixed them with a hefty 2 teaspoons of curry powder. Use whatever kind you like. Put that aside, and chop up an onion or two, and about half as much celery.
Put about a quarter cup of olive oil in a pan, and when it's hot, add the vegetables with about a teaspoon of salt. When the onions start to soften, add the spices. Cook them up for about a minute and then add half a cup of water. The water allows the spices to in fact become your "sauce." If you feel like it's not wet enough, well, add more.
Finally, add that spaghetti squash, and toss it around in the sauce, as if it were spaghetti. It won't take long. Add some more salt if you like, and you are DONE, with a terrific side dish.
Like I said, play with the spices. I left out the orange peel and the cilantro (fresh), from the recipe I studied, because the Guyman doesn't care for cilantro, and I thought the orange would make it too "sweet." I could see some fresh ginger here, or some more tumeric, or whatever you like.
Thank you Ryan. Spaghetti squash is on the menu here again.
Monday, January 31, 2011
Sunday, January 30, 2011
It's chili but it's not: black bean and squash "chili"
Ok, we can get into a big, FIERCE debate here about what "chili" is. And, to be honest, I am on the side of those who view it as containing meat, spices, onions, and very little else. But as is the case with just about every "canonical" dish in the American food "library," the term is tossed about, and used in many ways. I may be wrong, but I think it's slowly (or, perhaps not so slowly) being used to define any dish that is stewed slowly, and has chili powder in it, or chilis.
Well, fine. Ok, whatever you like. Anyway, I was reading an article on how chili changes as you move across the country. There were several recipes that caught my eye, and I'll be making them in turn. This one came up first, for a few reasons. It had squash in it, and I have been on a bit of a squash run lately. I've been using it every which what way. Also, it's meat free, and I had been feeling the need to make a protein rich dish that didn't have meat in it (we've also been eating a lot of rich protein lately). And... beans. .. another recent obsession. Add the fact that there's very little work, and it just sits there and stews (sort of like Annalena, sometimes,) and you have a perfect dish for winter.
Ok, enough philosophy, let's cook. You're going to need to chop a bit of stuff: 2 big onions, and also 8 peeled garlic cloves. Now, the spices. A tablespoon of a chili powder of your choice (you can get these in so many varities it is amazing. Pick one you like. Keep in mind that we're going to be adding more chilis later, so you might want to stick to mild. I'll explain the role of each as we go along). You also need a tablespoon of ground coriander.
Now, a digression here. Annalena has just about every spice in the world on her spice table. She just picked up some new ones, that she won't use often (celery seed, fenugreek, etc). So, when she turned around to get her ground coriander, ... well, you guessed it. None there. WHOLE coriander seeds, but no ground.
I suggest that everyone get one of those cheap coffee bean grinders, and use them for spices only. That's what Annalena does (so does Martha Stewart, if you prefer a slightly different model). The other ingredients: a pound of black beans, a large can of whole tomatoes, 2 chipotle chiles from a can of them in adobo, chopped and a tablespoon of dried oregano. (If you happen to know the source, the Mexican oregano is better here, but Turkish will work fine). Later, you're going to need 3 cups of cubed squash (butternut, kabocha, hubbard, don't much matter), and a half a cup of bulghur wheat, the quick cooking kind.
Put a few tablespoons of olive oil in big pot, Heat it up and add the onions. When they've softened, add the garlic and just stir it for about a minute, and then add the spices. They are going to stick and burn a little, and that's fine. That will stop after you add the tomatoes, all at once, with their juice. You also add the beans, the chipotle chilies, and the oregano.
Let's stop here and chat about the chilies. The combination here will give you a rather spicy dish. The way I tasted it, I thought the chipotles give a BIG immediate explosion, then die away, and there is a subtle heat from the chili powder. So, if you don't like that big heat, don't use the chipotles. The dish is fine without them.
SO you've added all this stuff to your big pot. Now add ten cups of water (remember, the beans were dry beans). Bring this all up to a boil, then lower the heat, put a lid on the pot and leave it slightly ajar, and go away for at least an hour and a half.
Come back and now, season this with salt, and if the tomatoes haven't broken down to your liking, crush them with the back of a spoon. Taste the beans. Fresh dried beans will cook faster than older ones (seems kind of odd to speak of "fresh" dried beans, doesn't it?), and check your water level. You may need to add more.
Now, go away for another half hour. Then come back. If your beans are tasting just a wee bit too undercooked, you're ready to add the squash, and the bulghur wheat. Cook all of this for another half hour, and you know what? You are DONE.
You serve this with whatever chili "fixins" you like. Annalena prefers a dollop of creme fraiche, but she's odd that way. Put whatever you like on it.
And, if you haven't noticed, there's a lot of this here. Time to share. Sharing is good.
Well, fine. Ok, whatever you like. Anyway, I was reading an article on how chili changes as you move across the country. There were several recipes that caught my eye, and I'll be making them in turn. This one came up first, for a few reasons. It had squash in it, and I have been on a bit of a squash run lately. I've been using it every which what way. Also, it's meat free, and I had been feeling the need to make a protein rich dish that didn't have meat in it (we've also been eating a lot of rich protein lately). And... beans. .. another recent obsession. Add the fact that there's very little work, and it just sits there and stews (sort of like Annalena, sometimes,) and you have a perfect dish for winter.
Ok, enough philosophy, let's cook. You're going to need to chop a bit of stuff: 2 big onions, and also 8 peeled garlic cloves. Now, the spices. A tablespoon of a chili powder of your choice (you can get these in so many varities it is amazing. Pick one you like. Keep in mind that we're going to be adding more chilis later, so you might want to stick to mild. I'll explain the role of each as we go along). You also need a tablespoon of ground coriander.
Now, a digression here. Annalena has just about every spice in the world on her spice table. She just picked up some new ones, that she won't use often (celery seed, fenugreek, etc). So, when she turned around to get her ground coriander, ... well, you guessed it. None there. WHOLE coriander seeds, but no ground.
I suggest that everyone get one of those cheap coffee bean grinders, and use them for spices only. That's what Annalena does (so does Martha Stewart, if you prefer a slightly different model). The other ingredients: a pound of black beans, a large can of whole tomatoes, 2 chipotle chiles from a can of them in adobo, chopped and a tablespoon of dried oregano. (If you happen to know the source, the Mexican oregano is better here, but Turkish will work fine). Later, you're going to need 3 cups of cubed squash (butternut, kabocha, hubbard, don't much matter), and a half a cup of bulghur wheat, the quick cooking kind.
Put a few tablespoons of olive oil in big pot, Heat it up and add the onions. When they've softened, add the garlic and just stir it for about a minute, and then add the spices. They are going to stick and burn a little, and that's fine. That will stop after you add the tomatoes, all at once, with their juice. You also add the beans, the chipotle chilies, and the oregano.
Let's stop here and chat about the chilies. The combination here will give you a rather spicy dish. The way I tasted it, I thought the chipotles give a BIG immediate explosion, then die away, and there is a subtle heat from the chili powder. So, if you don't like that big heat, don't use the chipotles. The dish is fine without them.
SO you've added all this stuff to your big pot. Now add ten cups of water (remember, the beans were dry beans). Bring this all up to a boil, then lower the heat, put a lid on the pot and leave it slightly ajar, and go away for at least an hour and a half.
Come back and now, season this with salt, and if the tomatoes haven't broken down to your liking, crush them with the back of a spoon. Taste the beans. Fresh dried beans will cook faster than older ones (seems kind of odd to speak of "fresh" dried beans, doesn't it?), and check your water level. You may need to add more.
Now, go away for another half hour. Then come back. If your beans are tasting just a wee bit too undercooked, you're ready to add the squash, and the bulghur wheat. Cook all of this for another half hour, and you know what? You are DONE.
You serve this with whatever chili "fixins" you like. Annalena prefers a dollop of creme fraiche, but she's odd that way. Put whatever you like on it.
And, if you haven't noticed, there's a lot of this here. Time to share. Sharing is good.
Saturday, January 29, 2011
EEEEEK. It's a gastrique
Does anyone else have the sense of change in the air, of the "normal order" being inverted, or somehow changed? Annalena certainly does, and some of it is her own doing.
Yesterday, Annalena's alter ego, yours truly, resigned from the job he held for 12 years and, arguably, for 26 years. It was time. But if you think about that: 12 years? That's the length of time it takes to go through grammar and high schools. Let us not even contemplate 26 years.
One of Annalena's alter ego's role models, has always been the pair of characters in "Don Quixote:" the Don himself, and his squire, Sancho Panza. For years , indeed decades, he fancied himself the squire, standing in the background while the Don had the spotlight.
Well, we all know the FIRST part of Don Quixote. I commend the second part of the novel to you. It is more complex. It is also sadder, deeper, and much more philosophical. I hope I do not spoil the story for any of you, but the Don, dies. He dies after he loses a battle, and his spirit is broken. Sancho, in the meanwhile, becomes Lord of an Island.
Putting that aside, however, in the ballet version of Don Quixote which I favor at the end, while visitors lavish love on the Don and Sancho, he bids them farewell. It would be easy to stay, but it is time for new adventures. And off he rides. When I see this ballet, I cannot help but shed a tear or two, and to wave to the Don as he heads off to the new. And I hope that I will inspire some of you to wave a fond farewell to me, as our paths will cross again perhaps , at places other than this blog, which shall continue.
And in the spirit of the new, I present to you something that you've seen on restaurant menus, but had no clue about. A gastrique. The name is a bit forboding: it sounds, at least to Annalena, like some sort of intestinal procedure, or perhaps some intestinal fluid that comes up: "OK, Nurse Johnson, drain the gastrique and we'll proceed."
If I haven't grossed you out, let's proceed. A gastrique, simply put, is a reduction of fruit, sugar and vinegar. It is a very intense sauce, of which you need very little, and is superb on things like scallops .
You start by carmelizing a small amount of sugar: three tablespoons. Put this in a heavy duty sauce pan, and heat it. Keep an eye on it. It will melt and darken faster than you think it will. Once it turns golden, pour a tablespoon of vinegar in it. Your choice. Most recipes I have seen call for sherry vinegar (which would fit in with the Don Quixote type of theme of this post), or balsamic vinegar. I, however, contrarian that I am, used apple cider vinegar and I'm happy with that choice. The sugar and vinegar will seize up immediately, into something that can best be described as vinegar caramel (sounds good to me). Heat it, and it will dissolve. At that point, add a cup of fruit juice. I used blood orange juice, and in fact, the citrus juices are preferred here, but you really could use anything you like. Boil this for about five minutes, or until it reduces by half. Now, you need a cup and a half of some neutral liquid, be it chicken stock, or fish stock, or vegetable stock, or a combination of these with wine. Pour that in, and boil the mix for fifteen minutes or so, until you've reduced it rather heavily. You won't want more than about half a cup or so of final product.
This final product, by the way, will be intensely flavored. There will be NO DOUBT as to what went into it. So, use it sparingly.
The guidebooks say this keeps for three days in the fridge, which means it probably keeps for close to a week. So, if you have some weekend time, and have something on the menu that will benefit from a strong flavor... get in there, and don't freak.. at your gastrique.
The adventures just keep on coming. Annalena/Don Q will keep you posted
Yesterday, Annalena's alter ego, yours truly, resigned from the job he held for 12 years and, arguably, for 26 years. It was time. But if you think about that: 12 years? That's the length of time it takes to go through grammar and high schools. Let us not even contemplate 26 years.
One of Annalena's alter ego's role models, has always been the pair of characters in "Don Quixote:" the Don himself, and his squire, Sancho Panza. For years , indeed decades, he fancied himself the squire, standing in the background while the Don had the spotlight.
Well, we all know the FIRST part of Don Quixote. I commend the second part of the novel to you. It is more complex. It is also sadder, deeper, and much more philosophical. I hope I do not spoil the story for any of you, but the Don, dies. He dies after he loses a battle, and his spirit is broken. Sancho, in the meanwhile, becomes Lord of an Island.
Putting that aside, however, in the ballet version of Don Quixote which I favor at the end, while visitors lavish love on the Don and Sancho, he bids them farewell. It would be easy to stay, but it is time for new adventures. And off he rides. When I see this ballet, I cannot help but shed a tear or two, and to wave to the Don as he heads off to the new. And I hope that I will inspire some of you to wave a fond farewell to me, as our paths will cross again perhaps , at places other than this blog, which shall continue.
And in the spirit of the new, I present to you something that you've seen on restaurant menus, but had no clue about. A gastrique. The name is a bit forboding: it sounds, at least to Annalena, like some sort of intestinal procedure, or perhaps some intestinal fluid that comes up: "OK, Nurse Johnson, drain the gastrique and we'll proceed."
If I haven't grossed you out, let's proceed. A gastrique, simply put, is a reduction of fruit, sugar and vinegar. It is a very intense sauce, of which you need very little, and is superb on things like scallops .
You start by carmelizing a small amount of sugar: three tablespoons. Put this in a heavy duty sauce pan, and heat it. Keep an eye on it. It will melt and darken faster than you think it will. Once it turns golden, pour a tablespoon of vinegar in it. Your choice. Most recipes I have seen call for sherry vinegar (which would fit in with the Don Quixote type of theme of this post), or balsamic vinegar. I, however, contrarian that I am, used apple cider vinegar and I'm happy with that choice. The sugar and vinegar will seize up immediately, into something that can best be described as vinegar caramel (sounds good to me). Heat it, and it will dissolve. At that point, add a cup of fruit juice. I used blood orange juice, and in fact, the citrus juices are preferred here, but you really could use anything you like. Boil this for about five minutes, or until it reduces by half. Now, you need a cup and a half of some neutral liquid, be it chicken stock, or fish stock, or vegetable stock, or a combination of these with wine. Pour that in, and boil the mix for fifteen minutes or so, until you've reduced it rather heavily. You won't want more than about half a cup or so of final product.
This final product, by the way, will be intensely flavored. There will be NO DOUBT as to what went into it. So, use it sparingly.
The guidebooks say this keeps for three days in the fridge, which means it probably keeps for close to a week. So, if you have some weekend time, and have something on the menu that will benefit from a strong flavor... get in there, and don't freak.. at your gastrique.
The adventures just keep on coming. Annalena/Don Q will keep you posted
Tuesday, January 25, 2011
Hold your temper(ing): white chocolate pistachio bark
Annalena believes quite strongly that technique in the kitchen is very important. Except when it's not. And it's not always easy to find out when it's not. This is a case where I learned, quite by accident, that a very involved technique, tempering chocolate, is not always necessary. It certainly wasn't, in this recipe.
I am not going to repeat the steps of how to temper chocolate in this blog. You can look that up and if you wish to do it, more power to you. It's an involved process. From what I've read it's important for some applications.
Annalena does not have time for this kind of thing. She's a busy woman. Especially around holiday time, when she's making her holiday goodies. One such goodie is this white chocolate bark, with pistachios and dried cranberries. When I first read the recipe, it called for tempering white chocolate. I put it down. But then I picked it up again, because the explanation of "tempering" was really simple. I COULD DO IT!!! I've since learned that this is not tempering but you know what? Who cares? Let's make some candy.
You need one pound of very good quality white chocolate (which isn't chocolate, but since we're being loose with terminology already, let's stay loose). You will also need a heaping cup and a half of pistachio nuts, salted or not, and half a cup of dried cranberries (I hate the word "craisins," but use that one if you like).
Put some parchment paper down on a baking sheet, and spray the paper with cooking spray. Now put it aside. Let's make the candy. Put the white chocolate into a pot, and put the pot in a larger pot, or pan, with a few inches of water in it. Bring the water to a simmer, and stir the chocolate constantly, watching it slowly melt. Take it off the heat when it's almost completely melted. The residual heat will melt the rest of it. Off the heat, stir in a teaspoon and a half of a neutral vegetable oil (don't use olive oil. Don't even use pistachio oil. Why not? Want an ucky green candy?) Then the nuts and fruit.
Pour this all out on the parchment paper, and very quickly, with a greased spatula, or greased hands, spread out the chocolate mixture as much as you can. It won't fill a full pan, far from it, and precision on the edges is not necessary.
Put the pan aside and let it cool. Now, you may be disappointed when this cools, because it will be very soft. It won't "snap," it will bend. BUT... Annalena has a solution. Put the thing into the fridge for a few hours ,and something nearly miraculous will happen. The chocolate will take on a gloss, it will get nice and firm and now, it will snap, as you'll find out when you break it into uneven pieces.
This will make a little over a pound (since you started with a pound of white chocolate), but you will SWEAR you didn't make enough. I made five recipes of this over the holidays and know what? I'm still making it. Annalena loves white chocolate too, so this is tasted, frequently, on the way to the cookie tin.
Not too hard. Really good. Go ahead and make it. You'll be glad
I am not going to repeat the steps of how to temper chocolate in this blog. You can look that up and if you wish to do it, more power to you. It's an involved process. From what I've read it's important for some applications.
Annalena does not have time for this kind of thing. She's a busy woman. Especially around holiday time, when she's making her holiday goodies. One such goodie is this white chocolate bark, with pistachios and dried cranberries. When I first read the recipe, it called for tempering white chocolate. I put it down. But then I picked it up again, because the explanation of "tempering" was really simple. I COULD DO IT!!! I've since learned that this is not tempering but you know what? Who cares? Let's make some candy.
You need one pound of very good quality white chocolate (which isn't chocolate, but since we're being loose with terminology already, let's stay loose). You will also need a heaping cup and a half of pistachio nuts, salted or not, and half a cup of dried cranberries (I hate the word "craisins," but use that one if you like).
Put some parchment paper down on a baking sheet, and spray the paper with cooking spray. Now put it aside. Let's make the candy. Put the white chocolate into a pot, and put the pot in a larger pot, or pan, with a few inches of water in it. Bring the water to a simmer, and stir the chocolate constantly, watching it slowly melt. Take it off the heat when it's almost completely melted. The residual heat will melt the rest of it. Off the heat, stir in a teaspoon and a half of a neutral vegetable oil (don't use olive oil. Don't even use pistachio oil. Why not? Want an ucky green candy?) Then the nuts and fruit.
Pour this all out on the parchment paper, and very quickly, with a greased spatula, or greased hands, spread out the chocolate mixture as much as you can. It won't fill a full pan, far from it, and precision on the edges is not necessary.
Put the pan aside and let it cool. Now, you may be disappointed when this cools, because it will be very soft. It won't "snap," it will bend. BUT... Annalena has a solution. Put the thing into the fridge for a few hours ,and something nearly miraculous will happen. The chocolate will take on a gloss, it will get nice and firm and now, it will snap, as you'll find out when you break it into uneven pieces.
This will make a little over a pound (since you started with a pound of white chocolate), but you will SWEAR you didn't make enough. I made five recipes of this over the holidays and know what? I'm still making it. Annalena loves white chocolate too, so this is tasted, frequently, on the way to the cookie tin.
Not too hard. Really good. Go ahead and make it. You'll be glad
Monday, January 24, 2011
An old dog learns new tricks: candying citrus peel
For years, every Xmas holiday, I have hauled out the sugar, the big pots, the serrated racks, and made pound after pound of candied grapefruit peel, to the delight of my friends and family. Standing there, with my thermometer poised, waiting for "lots of tiny bubbles" to form, and for the temperature to slooooooooooooooooooowly inch its way to 230 degrees, I have made this stuff. I've then drained it, dried it, coated it with sugar, and stored it. Generally, over a 3 day period. When I saw it on sale for 64.00 a pound, I laughed. I thought it was underpriced, and I thought I should quit my job and do this. After all, grapefruit peel? Stop by a juice vendor. They'll have all you want, for nothing. Sugar ain't that expensive. Labor? PHEH. Who calculates labor into what things cost? And every year I said I wouldn't make it again, and every year, the applause for that peel kept me coming back and doing it again, followed by another round of vowing NEVER AGAIN.
Well, tonight, may in fact mark the beginning of NEVER AGAIN, but perhaps just that recipe.
Some time ago, Annalena espied a recipe entitled "candied citrus peel". Reading through it to find laughable flaws, she found none. So, it got put aside as a "recipe to consider." In fact, I think I put it aside simply to go back and try to find mistakes in it.
Well, I report there are no mistakes in it. This is a terrific recipe. I made it tonight, with lemon peel. I think it's better than the grapefruit peel. I will try it with the grapefruit. It is so easy , so much faster than the original recipe, that as with all things, changes are a coming. Keep reading.
Here's how I did it with lemons. You need 8 of them. I used a mix of meyers and lisbons (meyers are sweet, lisbons are tart). Use what mix you want.
When I candied grapefruit the old way, I juiced the fruit by cutting it in half, and then cut huge pieces of the peel. This recipe, however, suggested something different. Cut the fruit into 8s, be it grapefruit, lemon, orange (NO LIMES!!! The skin is too thin. You will get lime leather. Hmmmm. Not a bad idea). Once you have the pieces, scrape off the pulp and put it aside (this is going to get wet and messy, sort of like an e.e. cummings poem. "lemonluscious rather than mudluscious, if you know what I mean). We'll juice that stuff later. Now cut that peel into quarter inch slices.
Cut small like this, you do in fact boil it three times, but for only 5 minutes each time (traditionally, you do three ten minute boils). Change the water after ever boil.
After the third one, put the peel into a pot (the same one, perhaps, with a cup and a half of sugar, and a cup of water.) This, too is a departure, with much less sugar then before. Bring this to a fast boil, and then lower the heat. Rather than sand there with a thermometer, simmer it, uncovered, for 45 minutes. You may need less time. Keep your eye on it, and look for translucency. Set a colander into a large bowl, and pour everything in. The syrup will drain out. There won't be much. Save it.
Now, get another bowl, and put a cup of sugar in that. Working quickly and in small batches, toss the peel into the sugar to coat it. It is VERY warm, but it will not burn you if you work quickly. Move the sugared pieces to a tray so that they can dry, for overnight.
And you're done. With the peel. All that fruit? Put it into a blender, food processor or food mill, and get out that juice. You'll get nearly a cup. Mix it with the leftover syrup, and any leftover sugar, if you like, and you have a terrific base for drinks or for syrups for cakes, etc.
The peel is soft, and very lovely. I'm not a particular fan, but I ate four pieces right off the bat, and probably spoiled my dinner.
You learn something and you move on. These are going as a gift to some dear friends, and I only wish another dear friend, Mark the lemon lover were here to have them. Mark, in the land where lemons rule, make them . Or have Carl make them. But do it. Add it to your holiday largesse. You'll smile.
Well, tonight, may in fact mark the beginning of NEVER AGAIN, but perhaps just that recipe.
Some time ago, Annalena espied a recipe entitled "candied citrus peel". Reading through it to find laughable flaws, she found none. So, it got put aside as a "recipe to consider." In fact, I think I put it aside simply to go back and try to find mistakes in it.
Well, I report there are no mistakes in it. This is a terrific recipe. I made it tonight, with lemon peel. I think it's better than the grapefruit peel. I will try it with the grapefruit. It is so easy , so much faster than the original recipe, that as with all things, changes are a coming. Keep reading.
Here's how I did it with lemons. You need 8 of them. I used a mix of meyers and lisbons (meyers are sweet, lisbons are tart). Use what mix you want.
When I candied grapefruit the old way, I juiced the fruit by cutting it in half, and then cut huge pieces of the peel. This recipe, however, suggested something different. Cut the fruit into 8s, be it grapefruit, lemon, orange (NO LIMES!!! The skin is too thin. You will get lime leather. Hmmmm. Not a bad idea). Once you have the pieces, scrape off the pulp and put it aside (this is going to get wet and messy, sort of like an e.e. cummings poem. "lemonluscious rather than mudluscious, if you know what I mean). We'll juice that stuff later. Now cut that peel into quarter inch slices.
Cut small like this, you do in fact boil it three times, but for only 5 minutes each time (traditionally, you do three ten minute boils). Change the water after ever boil.
After the third one, put the peel into a pot (the same one, perhaps, with a cup and a half of sugar, and a cup of water.) This, too is a departure, with much less sugar then before. Bring this to a fast boil, and then lower the heat. Rather than sand there with a thermometer, simmer it, uncovered, for 45 minutes. You may need less time. Keep your eye on it, and look for translucency. Set a colander into a large bowl, and pour everything in. The syrup will drain out. There won't be much. Save it.
Now, get another bowl, and put a cup of sugar in that. Working quickly and in small batches, toss the peel into the sugar to coat it. It is VERY warm, but it will not burn you if you work quickly. Move the sugared pieces to a tray so that they can dry, for overnight.
And you're done. With the peel. All that fruit? Put it into a blender, food processor or food mill, and get out that juice. You'll get nearly a cup. Mix it with the leftover syrup, and any leftover sugar, if you like, and you have a terrific base for drinks or for syrups for cakes, etc.
The peel is soft, and very lovely. I'm not a particular fan, but I ate four pieces right off the bat, and probably spoiled my dinner.
You learn something and you move on. These are going as a gift to some dear friends, and I only wish another dear friend, Mark the lemon lover were here to have them. Mark, in the land where lemons rule, make them . Or have Carl make them. But do it. Add it to your holiday largesse. You'll smile.
Sunday, January 23, 2011
Fixing a recipe: focaccia with onions, pear and blue cheese
As you become experienced in cooking, you learn how to "READ" recipes. What I mean by that is, as you go through a recipe, you will note where things are arguable, or wrong (more often than you might think), where there will be problem spots, and where there will be difficulties.
The recipe under discussion was one which called for a "9x13 inch rimmed baking sheet." Now, Annalena has many pots and pans. She has 9x13 inch baking dishes (these are the standard size). But a rimmed baking sheet of this size? No. For info, if you need to know, a standard baking sheet is 13x18 inches. It's called a "half sheet", because the ones that commercial ovens use are bigger. So, of course, a 9x13 inch baking sheet, is half as long.
Go and find one. I have smaller baking sheets. I measured. Nope, they are not 9x13. So, I could have worked with the recipe, and only filled half the sheet, but I knew that wouldn't work. Bread rises, it moves, and it would have been a mess
My solution was to double the recipe. This would be more than would be necessary for a 13x18 inch pan but it would still work.
Some other things to consider. When you modify a bread recipe, as you will learn, if you double it, you do NOT double the yeast. If you do, you will get puffy, light, "feather bread," which may be what you want, but it will also lack flavor. You will also learn, with experience, that the standard ratio for a solid loaf bread, is one cup water to three cups flour. If that ratio changes, you either have very soft dough, or dough that will bake up like a brick. "Artisanal" breads are wetter, as are pizza doughs and, as we will see, focaccia.
Also, you will learn that you can substitute things if they have the same "feel." This recipe calls for pears. Don't care for them? Don't have them? Use apples. Or, use crips persimmons. Or, if you want to go the vegetable route, a chayote squash. No blue cheese? Try fontina. Or feta. There are no herbs in the recipe. Wanna try them? Work them into the dough.
This is a good recipe. Make it, and then play with it. Here we go.
Start with 2 cups of water. We all live in homes that are overheated, so don't worry about warm water. Combine it with a tablespoon of yeast. That's a package, if you use the little yellow red ones you can get at the supermarket . CHECK THE EXPIRATION DATE AND IF YOU BUY YEAST, PUT IT IN THE FREEZER TO KEEP IT ALIVE. One teaspoon of a sweetener of some kind: sugar, honey, maple syrup, whatever. Combine all of this together with a cup of olive oil. Add 2 cups of flour, just all purpose unbleached. Stir it, and let it sit for ten minutes. Then add the rest, use whatever you use to knead bread, and let it sit, for one hour, while you get the rest of the ingredients ready.
Which are... 2 onions, sliced in half moons, 2 pears, sliced thin (or the substitutions above), and a generous cup and a half of crumbled cheese.
Cook the onions in a few tablespoons of olive oil. Cook them slowly, for ten minutes in a covered pan. Then take off the cover, and cook them for another ten minutes. Or, if you get to a nice brown finish in less time, STOP.
While the bread is rising, preheat your oven to 450. Lightly grease a 13x18 inch baking pan with some olive oil, and spread the dough out over it. It will resist a little. Let it rest, and then push it some more. Then keep repeating until you have the pan covered. It will take some time, but it will get there. Then, dimple it, and let it sit for 20 minutes.
The dimpling is important for focaccia. it gives the filling a chance to settle in a nook, and cook unevenly, which is something you want.
Ok, let's assemble. After twenty minutes, drizzle a couple of tablespoons of olive oil over the bread, sprinkle the cheese, spread out the onions, and lay out the slices of fruit. Get this in the oven and bake it for 20 minutes. Or longer, if you want a darker pan of bread. Let it cool, and serve it forth, maybe with the vignarola soup we just made.
Focaccia doesn't keep well. Eat this either the day you make it or at the latest, the day after. And after you make it the first time, play with the ingredients. Leeks instead of onions? Apples instead of pears? Cheddar or fontina instead of blue? You're the boss. To paraphrase my first trainer "control the ingredients, don't let the ingredients control you."
The recipe under discussion was one which called for a "9x13 inch rimmed baking sheet." Now, Annalena has many pots and pans. She has 9x13 inch baking dishes (these are the standard size). But a rimmed baking sheet of this size? No. For info, if you need to know, a standard baking sheet is 13x18 inches. It's called a "half sheet", because the ones that commercial ovens use are bigger. So, of course, a 9x13 inch baking sheet, is half as long.
Go and find one. I have smaller baking sheets. I measured. Nope, they are not 9x13. So, I could have worked with the recipe, and only filled half the sheet, but I knew that wouldn't work. Bread rises, it moves, and it would have been a mess
My solution was to double the recipe. This would be more than would be necessary for a 13x18 inch pan but it would still work.
Some other things to consider. When you modify a bread recipe, as you will learn, if you double it, you do NOT double the yeast. If you do, you will get puffy, light, "feather bread," which may be what you want, but it will also lack flavor. You will also learn, with experience, that the standard ratio for a solid loaf bread, is one cup water to three cups flour. If that ratio changes, you either have very soft dough, or dough that will bake up like a brick. "Artisanal" breads are wetter, as are pizza doughs and, as we will see, focaccia.
Also, you will learn that you can substitute things if they have the same "feel." This recipe calls for pears. Don't care for them? Don't have them? Use apples. Or, use crips persimmons. Or, if you want to go the vegetable route, a chayote squash. No blue cheese? Try fontina. Or feta. There are no herbs in the recipe. Wanna try them? Work them into the dough.
This is a good recipe. Make it, and then play with it. Here we go.
Start with 2 cups of water. We all live in homes that are overheated, so don't worry about warm water. Combine it with a tablespoon of yeast. That's a package, if you use the little yellow red ones you can get at the supermarket . CHECK THE EXPIRATION DATE AND IF YOU BUY YEAST, PUT IT IN THE FREEZER TO KEEP IT ALIVE. One teaspoon of a sweetener of some kind: sugar, honey, maple syrup, whatever. Combine all of this together with a cup of olive oil. Add 2 cups of flour, just all purpose unbleached. Stir it, and let it sit for ten minutes. Then add the rest, use whatever you use to knead bread, and let it sit, for one hour, while you get the rest of the ingredients ready.
Which are... 2 onions, sliced in half moons, 2 pears, sliced thin (or the substitutions above), and a generous cup and a half of crumbled cheese.
Cook the onions in a few tablespoons of olive oil. Cook them slowly, for ten minutes in a covered pan. Then take off the cover, and cook them for another ten minutes. Or, if you get to a nice brown finish in less time, STOP.
While the bread is rising, preheat your oven to 450. Lightly grease a 13x18 inch baking pan with some olive oil, and spread the dough out over it. It will resist a little. Let it rest, and then push it some more. Then keep repeating until you have the pan covered. It will take some time, but it will get there. Then, dimple it, and let it sit for 20 minutes.
The dimpling is important for focaccia. it gives the filling a chance to settle in a nook, and cook unevenly, which is something you want.
Ok, let's assemble. After twenty minutes, drizzle a couple of tablespoons of olive oil over the bread, sprinkle the cheese, spread out the onions, and lay out the slices of fruit. Get this in the oven and bake it for 20 minutes. Or longer, if you want a darker pan of bread. Let it cool, and serve it forth, maybe with the vignarola soup we just made.
Focaccia doesn't keep well. Eat this either the day you make it or at the latest, the day after. And after you make it the first time, play with the ingredients. Leeks instead of onions? Apples instead of pears? Cheddar or fontina instead of blue? You're the boss. To paraphrase my first trainer "control the ingredients, don't let the ingredients control you."
Saturday, January 22, 2011
Is winter STILL here? Vignarola revisited
This is a miserable winter. Cold. Snowy. Cold. I am over it. Today, some friends ran a half marathon in 14 degree weather. May the gods bless them. Me? I stayed home and made soup. As I will explain.
Vignarola has resonance for Romans, in the same way the dish ciambotta (pronounced JamBOAT by my clan) does for southern Italians. To review, ciambotta is "just" a vegetable stew that varies, depending on what you have, as long as you have lots of slow cooked onions. My Nana and Aunts used to eat huge pots of the stuff, with big chunks of bread.
Vignarola is a stew of the spring. And if you speak to Romans, you will hear different variations of it, but there are always peas, and always artichokes in it. Classically, there are also fava beans. All come into season about the same time in Rome, for just a few weeks. You have to make it when you can. Some variants use asparagus, and some use some meat products. When I wrote about this dish, in 2008, I was using asparagus.
Today, I did it differently. I made soup. I wanted something to remind me that spring WILL come, but I wanted winter heartiness. So, I resorted to that standard winter vegetable for rib sticking power: potatoes. The resulting soup, as I lay it out to you, is NOT pretty to look at: think green mud. But it sure is GOOD. And it does taste a bit of spring, with the heft that the potatoes give to it.
None of the vegetables are in season right now, but since Annalena very craftily froze great quantities of peas and fava beans when they were in season, all she needed were artichokes. If you haven't done your own freezing, you can bite the bullet and use frozen veggies. Frozen favas are very difficult to find. If you must, use canned. I did read a very interesting idea, though. A Roman cook posted a blog entry where she used frozen edamame, the green soy beans. Hmmm. So, play with it. Use my recipe if you like, but think of your own variations.
Slice up an onion and chop it, and then peel and chop up about a pound of potatoes. Cover the bottom of a pot with olive oil and add the onions and potatoes. Add a teaspoon of salt, and cook them for about five minutes, while you ready the vegetables. I used just about a pound of each. Get them into the pot, together with a quart of chicken stock (or, water, if you're going completely vegetarian), and then let them cook, slowly, for twenty minutes or so. The toughest vegetable in this pot is the artichoke, so test the doneness of those. If they are soft, everything is ready. Let the pot rest for twenty minutes, and then get a blender out. This is a workout for your blender, so work in small batches, and if you know you don't want a really thick soup, have some water or stock ready to thin it, and to help those blades move the stuff around. Taste it, and correct for salt.
If you want to liven this soup up, grate some lemon peel, or chop some dill, or use both. And, as I say, if the thickness bothers you or you just like something thinner, feel free. There are as many points of view on this one as there are on ciambotta. Since it's a Roman dish, however, the debate will be much more civilized (I guess).
Vignarola has resonance for Romans, in the same way the dish ciambotta (pronounced JamBOAT by my clan) does for southern Italians. To review, ciambotta is "just" a vegetable stew that varies, depending on what you have, as long as you have lots of slow cooked onions. My Nana and Aunts used to eat huge pots of the stuff, with big chunks of bread.
Vignarola is a stew of the spring. And if you speak to Romans, you will hear different variations of it, but there are always peas, and always artichokes in it. Classically, there are also fava beans. All come into season about the same time in Rome, for just a few weeks. You have to make it when you can. Some variants use asparagus, and some use some meat products. When I wrote about this dish, in 2008, I was using asparagus.
Today, I did it differently. I made soup. I wanted something to remind me that spring WILL come, but I wanted winter heartiness. So, I resorted to that standard winter vegetable for rib sticking power: potatoes. The resulting soup, as I lay it out to you, is NOT pretty to look at: think green mud. But it sure is GOOD. And it does taste a bit of spring, with the heft that the potatoes give to it.
None of the vegetables are in season right now, but since Annalena very craftily froze great quantities of peas and fava beans when they were in season, all she needed were artichokes. If you haven't done your own freezing, you can bite the bullet and use frozen veggies. Frozen favas are very difficult to find. If you must, use canned. I did read a very interesting idea, though. A Roman cook posted a blog entry where she used frozen edamame, the green soy beans. Hmmm. So, play with it. Use my recipe if you like, but think of your own variations.
Slice up an onion and chop it, and then peel and chop up about a pound of potatoes. Cover the bottom of a pot with olive oil and add the onions and potatoes. Add a teaspoon of salt, and cook them for about five minutes, while you ready the vegetables. I used just about a pound of each. Get them into the pot, together with a quart of chicken stock (or, water, if you're going completely vegetarian), and then let them cook, slowly, for twenty minutes or so. The toughest vegetable in this pot is the artichoke, so test the doneness of those. If they are soft, everything is ready. Let the pot rest for twenty minutes, and then get a blender out. This is a workout for your blender, so work in small batches, and if you know you don't want a really thick soup, have some water or stock ready to thin it, and to help those blades move the stuff around. Taste it, and correct for salt.
If you want to liven this soup up, grate some lemon peel, or chop some dill, or use both. And, as I say, if the thickness bothers you or you just like something thinner, feel free. There are as many points of view on this one as there are on ciambotta. Since it's a Roman dish, however, the debate will be much more civilized (I guess).
Working with what you got: beans and sausage
This is a tough time of year for cooks. If you go to a farmers market, and anyone is there, you find: apples. Potatoes. Turnips. Maybe a cabbage or two. Turnips. It ain't much guys. So you work with what you have and, also, the bounty of dried foods.
We're talkin' beans here boys and girls. Some call them "the musical fruit" for, ahem, well known reasons. Well, if you eat them regularly, they aren't musical. See, Annalena used to be a biochemist and she knows these things. You're about to learn some fascinating biology: what makes beans "musical" is a sugar that is part of them. And that sugar breaks down into a very small molecule, which is held together by a bond that is not commonly found in sugars. Bonds, in sugar, are broken up by enzymes. Your DNA (yes, YOURS!!!) can make that enzyme. But it can only make it, if it's stimulated. And to stimulate it, you need to provide the gene which makes it, with small amounts of that sugar, on a regular basis. Giving it a huge load of it, at once, with no supply for months, won't do it. So, eat your beans. They're good for you. Low cost protein, no fat, deal with soaking them, it's not hard. And then, you can make something like this.
See, I had prepped some teppary beans a week ago. I have a new found, favorite vendor for beans: Rancho Gordo. The yield was amazing. I made crostini for a party, and soup, and had scads of them left over. Beans do ferment if you let them sit too long, and then you've got to toss them, and they're not a cheap food anymore, just a smelly, messy one. So, there they were, begging to be used. If you don't have small beans like this, use lentils. Lentils you don't even have to soak. Just read the package directions. In half an hour, you've got a wonderful batch of lentils.
Ok, you've got your cooked beans. OPTIONALLY, you use some sausage, as I did here. I had left over chicken sausage from the lunches the week before (a result of having lunch with two of my favorite people in the world: Brad and Chris. Having lunch with both of them in a week is like, well, a bath in barolo for Annalena. ). But if you don't have them, leave the sausages out, or fry some up. Slice them into thick coins.
Finally, get a small onion, and peel it, and slice it into half moons. Chop up a few stalks of celery too.
Cover the bottom of a pan with olive oil, and add the onions and celery. Fry them up just until they begin to soften, and add a teaspoon of salt, Stir that up, and then add 2-3 cups of beans or lentils. Again, stir it all up. Now, add a few tablespoons of tomato paste or tomato sauce or even chopped up sun dried tomatoes. They really push the flavor. Finally, add your sliced up sausages. I didn't give quantities, because it doesn't really matter. And if you don't have sausage, but you have ham, or something like that, go right ahead and substitute. Mix the whole thing together and know what you got?
LUNCH. Cheap and good. If you cook up some rice, even better. Some will prefer this with noodles, and that sounds good too. I can't help thinking that this would really be good in a sliced open popover, so if you feel like making more than one of my recipes, go ahead. Let me know how it turns out. Annalena is a curious gal. (I know... interpret as you like).
We're talkin' beans here boys and girls. Some call them "the musical fruit" for, ahem, well known reasons. Well, if you eat them regularly, they aren't musical. See, Annalena used to be a biochemist and she knows these things. You're about to learn some fascinating biology: what makes beans "musical" is a sugar that is part of them. And that sugar breaks down into a very small molecule, which is held together by a bond that is not commonly found in sugars. Bonds, in sugar, are broken up by enzymes. Your DNA (yes, YOURS!!!) can make that enzyme. But it can only make it, if it's stimulated. And to stimulate it, you need to provide the gene which makes it, with small amounts of that sugar, on a regular basis. Giving it a huge load of it, at once, with no supply for months, won't do it. So, eat your beans. They're good for you. Low cost protein, no fat, deal with soaking them, it's not hard. And then, you can make something like this.
See, I had prepped some teppary beans a week ago. I have a new found, favorite vendor for beans: Rancho Gordo. The yield was amazing. I made crostini for a party, and soup, and had scads of them left over. Beans do ferment if you let them sit too long, and then you've got to toss them, and they're not a cheap food anymore, just a smelly, messy one. So, there they were, begging to be used. If you don't have small beans like this, use lentils. Lentils you don't even have to soak. Just read the package directions. In half an hour, you've got a wonderful batch of lentils.
Ok, you've got your cooked beans. OPTIONALLY, you use some sausage, as I did here. I had left over chicken sausage from the lunches the week before (a result of having lunch with two of my favorite people in the world: Brad and Chris. Having lunch with both of them in a week is like, well, a bath in barolo for Annalena. ). But if you don't have them, leave the sausages out, or fry some up. Slice them into thick coins.
Finally, get a small onion, and peel it, and slice it into half moons. Chop up a few stalks of celery too.
Cover the bottom of a pan with olive oil, and add the onions and celery. Fry them up just until they begin to soften, and add a teaspoon of salt, Stir that up, and then add 2-3 cups of beans or lentils. Again, stir it all up. Now, add a few tablespoons of tomato paste or tomato sauce or even chopped up sun dried tomatoes. They really push the flavor. Finally, add your sliced up sausages. I didn't give quantities, because it doesn't really matter. And if you don't have sausage, but you have ham, or something like that, go right ahead and substitute. Mix the whole thing together and know what you got?
LUNCH. Cheap and good. If you cook up some rice, even better. Some will prefer this with noodles, and that sounds good too. I can't help thinking that this would really be good in a sliced open popover, so if you feel like making more than one of my recipes, go ahead. Let me know how it turns out. Annalena is a curious gal. (I know... interpret as you like).
Sunday, January 16, 2011
Union Squre nods, Annalena begins thinking, and... gingerbread biscotti
You've all heard of Union Square Cafe' haven't you? All the hype, all the press, all the stories about it being New York's favorite restaurant.
Well, all of it is true. While I can report that, occasionally, Annalena has experienced a minor service lapse or two at the restaurant, there has never been a scrap of food served that was not absolutely wonderful. The high level and consistency of the cooking are some of the things that make it what its. A staff that is intelligent and HOSPITABLE, and frankly, downright attractive, makes it even better.
The Guyman and I don't go there as often as we might, but we went last night. The meal was wonderful... right up to the end. Guy was having a pumpkin pot de creme for dessert, which came with what were called "gingerbread biscotti." Now, I was not interested in the custard, but the cookies.. Hmmm. Gingerbread and biscotti at the same time. This sounds good.
Unfortunately, Homer nods and so does the pastry department at USC as it is sometimes called. It made me recall a time when they were serving carrot cake, with concord grape sorbet. I did not order it. In fact, my understanding is that no one did. The staff were embarrassed and it didn't come back. Still, I'm sure each individual component was wonderful.
Not so with these cookies. Overbaked to the point of being burned, with very little resemblance to gingerbread. Our wonderful waiter Max (the very FIRST time Annalena lusted after a man with dredlocks) asked about them. Politely, I simply said "Now I have to go home and see if I can make a better version."
Well, if I dare say so, I did. I am going to share it with you. It is a variation of the classic Italian biscotti recipe that I shared with you a long time ago. You should try this. It is super easy and, if you have recently assiduously edited and cleaned your spice collection (as I have done), it is even easier.
You will need 2 cups of flour, mixed with half a teaspoon of salt and half a teaspoon of baking powder. Also, two or three large eggs (more on this below), a cup of candied ginger, 2/3 cup of brown sugar, be it light or dark, a full TABLESPOON of dried ginger, plus an extra teaspoon, and also, a teaspoon of cinnamon.
Those are all your ingredients. Maybe. Did you notice that there's no butter? Not a mistake. Remember, these are Italian biscotti.
Pull out your mixer, dump this stuff together, using 2 of the eggs, and start blending. Chances are, the mix will be too dry. If you wish, add the third egg. OR, if you happen to have some left over egg whites around, which I did, add 2 of those (or, you can add water). Just add enough to get a cohesive, sticky mass.
When you have that, pour a little sugar onto a surface, put the dough on it, and either roll it into one, large log, or as I do, two smaller ones. Flatten the log or logs, and put it on a parchment paper lined baking sheet. Paint it with some egg white or a beaten egg if you want some shine, and maybe sprinkle some sugar on it, too. Bake the log or logs, at 350, for 25 minutes. You'll swear something is burning. That's the cinnamon, and don't worry. You're not.
After 25 minutes, take the baking sheet out, and let it cool down as long as you like. I usually wait an hour or so when I do biscotti. Then, bring the oven to 300, and slice the logs to the thickness you like. I like to make smaller cookies, but to each his or her own. Bake them for ten minutes one side up, and then turn them over for another five. And you're done.
If you make one log, and make big cookies, you'll get about 16, and they'll come in at about 91 calories each. That's right, 91 calories. Not bad for a cookie, huh? And if you do smaller ones... Well, you do the math. What I like to do with cookie recipes, since I never make them to full size, is figure out the total amount of calories and then do the division. But I never claimed that I didn't need a life.
This one is a keeper. Excpect it in the holiday tins this Xmas
Well, all of it is true. While I can report that, occasionally, Annalena has experienced a minor service lapse or two at the restaurant, there has never been a scrap of food served that was not absolutely wonderful. The high level and consistency of the cooking are some of the things that make it what its. A staff that is intelligent and HOSPITABLE, and frankly, downright attractive, makes it even better.
The Guyman and I don't go there as often as we might, but we went last night. The meal was wonderful... right up to the end. Guy was having a pumpkin pot de creme for dessert, which came with what were called "gingerbread biscotti." Now, I was not interested in the custard, but the cookies.. Hmmm. Gingerbread and biscotti at the same time. This sounds good.
Unfortunately, Homer nods and so does the pastry department at USC as it is sometimes called. It made me recall a time when they were serving carrot cake, with concord grape sorbet. I did not order it. In fact, my understanding is that no one did. The staff were embarrassed and it didn't come back. Still, I'm sure each individual component was wonderful.
Not so with these cookies. Overbaked to the point of being burned, with very little resemblance to gingerbread. Our wonderful waiter Max (the very FIRST time Annalena lusted after a man with dredlocks) asked about them. Politely, I simply said "Now I have to go home and see if I can make a better version."
Well, if I dare say so, I did. I am going to share it with you. It is a variation of the classic Italian biscotti recipe that I shared with you a long time ago. You should try this. It is super easy and, if you have recently assiduously edited and cleaned your spice collection (as I have done), it is even easier.
You will need 2 cups of flour, mixed with half a teaspoon of salt and half a teaspoon of baking powder. Also, two or three large eggs (more on this below), a cup of candied ginger, 2/3 cup of brown sugar, be it light or dark, a full TABLESPOON of dried ginger, plus an extra teaspoon, and also, a teaspoon of cinnamon.
Those are all your ingredients. Maybe. Did you notice that there's no butter? Not a mistake. Remember, these are Italian biscotti.
Pull out your mixer, dump this stuff together, using 2 of the eggs, and start blending. Chances are, the mix will be too dry. If you wish, add the third egg. OR, if you happen to have some left over egg whites around, which I did, add 2 of those (or, you can add water). Just add enough to get a cohesive, sticky mass.
When you have that, pour a little sugar onto a surface, put the dough on it, and either roll it into one, large log, or as I do, two smaller ones. Flatten the log or logs, and put it on a parchment paper lined baking sheet. Paint it with some egg white or a beaten egg if you want some shine, and maybe sprinkle some sugar on it, too. Bake the log or logs, at 350, for 25 minutes. You'll swear something is burning. That's the cinnamon, and don't worry. You're not.
After 25 minutes, take the baking sheet out, and let it cool down as long as you like. I usually wait an hour or so when I do biscotti. Then, bring the oven to 300, and slice the logs to the thickness you like. I like to make smaller cookies, but to each his or her own. Bake them for ten minutes one side up, and then turn them over for another five. And you're done.
If you make one log, and make big cookies, you'll get about 16, and they'll come in at about 91 calories each. That's right, 91 calories. Not bad for a cookie, huh? And if you do smaller ones... Well, you do the math. What I like to do with cookie recipes, since I never make them to full size, is figure out the total amount of calories and then do the division. But I never claimed that I didn't need a life.
This one is a keeper. Excpect it in the holiday tins this Xmas
Monday, January 10, 2011
"Remedial" roast chicken with lemon
Annalena has said it before, and she will say it again: the measure of a cook is his or her roast chicken. If you can roast a bird that people swoon over, ESPECIALLY after they've muttered something like "Oh. s/he's serving us roast chicken. Oh well," then you've MADE IT.
I have presented what I feel is the best roast chicken recipe EVER on this site: the chicken that they prepare at Zuni Cafe' in San Francisco. You have to wait an hour to get it, and it is worth it. Have some drinks, nibble some fries, do some people watching, and then dig in.
Some readers who have tried the recipe have told me how much they like it, but... they temperature at which it is cooked (500 degrees), is not to the liking of every smoke detector. Also, there are folks who simply cannot get it together to put the herbs under the skin , or to salt the bird ahead of time. BUT.. they still want a good roast chicken.
Never one to let down her devoted following (think about it: have you seen a recipe for anything more adventurous than squid in these pages? You want tripe? Sweetbreads? Hmmmm????), Annalena tested other recipes. To be honest, in her mind, they all fell short of the one discussed above. BUT... for those of you who really want to avoid the smoke, and want something more traditional, this one is for you.
It is actually a very good chicken, especially if you are in the "moist is more important than crispy" school, because this is a very moist, juicy bird, that is not necessarily the brownest bird you will find. The large amount of lemons certainly adds something to it. Whether it's what you want, is of course up to you.
If neither of these recipes work for you, I recommend looking for a recipe for chicken with 40 cloves of garlic, which is really superb when done well. Anyway, here we go.
You will need to preheat your oven to 325. (Remember? My other recipe goes up to 500). You will need a 3-3.5 pound chicken, a half teaspoon each of salt and pepper, 2 large lemons, 6 peeledcloves of garlic, 2 tablespoons each of butter and olive oil (Remember? My other recipe has no added fat).
Take your chicken, and wash and dry it well . Need I say it should be the best chicken you can afford to buy? Season it, inside and out, with the salt and pepper. Then, peel a lemon, and rub the bird, all over, with the peel. Now, take that skinned lemon, and squeeze the juice all over the bird, and squeeze some inside, too. Put the squeezed lemon pieces, and the peeled garlic, into the cavity of the chicken. Get it into a roasting pan
Combine the butter and olive oil and heat it, to melt the butter. You'll have 4 tablespoons of liquid fat. Pour about 1.5 tablespoons or so inside the chicken, and the rest on it.
Roast this in the oven for an hour and a half. You need to baste it every fifteen minutes. If you have a bird baster, which is essentially a large dropper that picks up the liquid as it gathers. If you don't, slightly tilt the pan (AFTER you've protected your hands), and pick up some of the liquid with a big spoon. Keep in mind that you're dropping the temperature of the oven every time you do this, though.
One hour into the roasting process, cut up the second lemon, and squeeze it over the chicken. Then continue to roast.
This bird simply is not going to get very brown. The temperature is low, there's a lot of liquid, and you're constantly opening and closing the oven. If you want a darker bird, take a deep breath, and turn the oven up to broil. Keep an eye on the bird. I would check after 90 seconds, and then every minute, until you have a color you like. Again, I say, you will not get a very dark bird.
When it's done, let it rest for about fifteen minutes before you carve it up. If you are a true lemon fan, keep the skin for yourself. It's almost tart. You will have a very moist bird which, in my mind, is better sliced up for sandwiches, or a chicken salad, than for a roasted chicken dinner. But you make the call. And if you care to, let Annalena know.
This recipe, incidentally, comes from the new New York Times cookbook, of which I have written before. I recommend the book.
I have presented what I feel is the best roast chicken recipe EVER on this site: the chicken that they prepare at Zuni Cafe' in San Francisco. You have to wait an hour to get it, and it is worth it. Have some drinks, nibble some fries, do some people watching, and then dig in.
Some readers who have tried the recipe have told me how much they like it, but... they temperature at which it is cooked (500 degrees), is not to the liking of every smoke detector. Also, there are folks who simply cannot get it together to put the herbs under the skin , or to salt the bird ahead of time. BUT.. they still want a good roast chicken.
Never one to let down her devoted following (think about it: have you seen a recipe for anything more adventurous than squid in these pages? You want tripe? Sweetbreads? Hmmmm????), Annalena tested other recipes. To be honest, in her mind, they all fell short of the one discussed above. BUT... for those of you who really want to avoid the smoke, and want something more traditional, this one is for you.
It is actually a very good chicken, especially if you are in the "moist is more important than crispy" school, because this is a very moist, juicy bird, that is not necessarily the brownest bird you will find. The large amount of lemons certainly adds something to it. Whether it's what you want, is of course up to you.
If neither of these recipes work for you, I recommend looking for a recipe for chicken with 40 cloves of garlic, which is really superb when done well. Anyway, here we go.
You will need to preheat your oven to 325. (Remember? My other recipe goes up to 500). You will need a 3-3.5 pound chicken, a half teaspoon each of salt and pepper, 2 large lemons, 6 peeledcloves of garlic, 2 tablespoons each of butter and olive oil (Remember? My other recipe has no added fat).
Take your chicken, and wash and dry it well . Need I say it should be the best chicken you can afford to buy? Season it, inside and out, with the salt and pepper. Then, peel a lemon, and rub the bird, all over, with the peel. Now, take that skinned lemon, and squeeze the juice all over the bird, and squeeze some inside, too. Put the squeezed lemon pieces, and the peeled garlic, into the cavity of the chicken. Get it into a roasting pan
Combine the butter and olive oil and heat it, to melt the butter. You'll have 4 tablespoons of liquid fat. Pour about 1.5 tablespoons or so inside the chicken, and the rest on it.
Roast this in the oven for an hour and a half. You need to baste it every fifteen minutes. If you have a bird baster, which is essentially a large dropper that picks up the liquid as it gathers. If you don't, slightly tilt the pan (AFTER you've protected your hands), and pick up some of the liquid with a big spoon. Keep in mind that you're dropping the temperature of the oven every time you do this, though.
One hour into the roasting process, cut up the second lemon, and squeeze it over the chicken. Then continue to roast.
This bird simply is not going to get very brown. The temperature is low, there's a lot of liquid, and you're constantly opening and closing the oven. If you want a darker bird, take a deep breath, and turn the oven up to broil. Keep an eye on the bird. I would check after 90 seconds, and then every minute, until you have a color you like. Again, I say, you will not get a very dark bird.
When it's done, let it rest for about fifteen minutes before you carve it up. If you are a true lemon fan, keep the skin for yourself. It's almost tart. You will have a very moist bird which, in my mind, is better sliced up for sandwiches, or a chicken salad, than for a roasted chicken dinner. But you make the call. And if you care to, let Annalena know.
This recipe, incidentally, comes from the new New York Times cookbook, of which I have written before. I recommend the book.
Sunday, January 9, 2011
Pop on over: popovers
Yesterday, in writing about clam chowder, I talked about the various "things" you could serve with it. For Annalena, this was a live topic because our normal Monday night dinner is soup, and a pizza of some sort. Somehow, pizza was not working in the context of clam chowder. I thought through several variations, but they just weren't working, if you know what I mean.
The "standard" carb that is served with clam chowder, is oyster crackers. You know the ones I mean. Well, these were out, for two reasons.
First, Annalena's relation with crackers of any type is a difficult one. She cannot sit there and restrain herself, and has been known to eat a whole box of wheat thins, or a full cylinder of ritz crackers, and yes, pass up the soup, to eat the oyster crackers. This was not going to work.
Second, one of Annalena's "rules" of cooking is the classic: "would your grandmother recognize the ingredients? If not, then don't buy it, and don't eat it. Read the ingredients on a box of oyster crackers some day.
Yes, you can buy organic oyster crackers. I swear, you can. The same issue applies , however. I guess "whey powder" is in fact organic. Also, taste them, or better yet, DON'T. The box is tastier. So, out went that possibility.
Casting around, in the crevices of Annalena's mind, a thought came up: POPOVERS.
You remember them, don't you? They seemed to be all the rage in the 70s (don't tell me you weren't born then). I remember an episode of "The Munsters" (Yvonne deCarlo, I HOPE they paid you a lot), where they were featured, and they were a breakfast staple for a long, long time. James Beard championed them, and my understanding is that his stature is being "reassessed" in a positive way. Maybe that's what stimulated them. Who knows?
Anyway, these are easy to make and it's high time they were back on the menu. You need a muffin tin. You have one, somewhere. Go and dig it out and wash it. Then wash it again. You know you have one. (Annalena has the same relationship with muffins that she has with crackers, so hers was hidden. It took an hour to find. It was filthy. It is no longer filthy).
Now, let's get to work. First, before you do anything else, turn your oven up to 450 degrees. While this is happening, grease the muffin tins, and grease them really well. No cheating here. Use butter. REAL butter. And put the greased tins in the oven, for a good ten minutes, while you prep the ingredients. Easy as can be.
Mix together a cup of flour, a half teaspoon of salt, three beaten eggs, a cup of milk and two tablespoons of butter (you can change the fat. Remember Yorkshire pudding? It's popovers, with beef drippings. Bacon fat is used too. Sounds good, doesn't it?)
You will get a very wet, almost soupy batter, thinner (MUCH thinner), than the clam chowder you made from the last entry. Protect your hands, and pull the muffin pan out of the oven. Fill each cup 1/3 or so full ,then put them back in the oven. Close that door, and DO NOT OPEN IT A CRACK. DO NOT OPEN IT A CRACK. DO NOT OPEN IT A CRACK. Leave it for 20 minutes. Then lower the heat, to 350, and bake for another 10-20 minutes. After ten minutes, you can peek if you like, but I wouldn't risk it. Most ovens have a light that you can turn on and get a look at the color. That's what you're looking for: a nice brown color.
These will "pop up" in random fashion. Some will come up straight and tall, like little rockets. Others will look like floppy bunny ears. Some will just refuse to move, period. BUT.. they will all be eggy, soft, and JUST SO DAMN GOOD. The buttering you did previously will allow you to get them out of the tins very easily.
We will be eating them plain, with the soup, but these are superb with some more butter on them. If you are having people over for lunch, and you want to impress, you can fill them with a meat salad of some type, or scrambled eggs (especially if you use the bacon fat option).
It is high time we brought these back into the kitchen and to the dining room. Make some today.
The "standard" carb that is served with clam chowder, is oyster crackers. You know the ones I mean. Well, these were out, for two reasons.
First, Annalena's relation with crackers of any type is a difficult one. She cannot sit there and restrain herself, and has been known to eat a whole box of wheat thins, or a full cylinder of ritz crackers, and yes, pass up the soup, to eat the oyster crackers. This was not going to work.
Second, one of Annalena's "rules" of cooking is the classic: "would your grandmother recognize the ingredients? If not, then don't buy it, and don't eat it. Read the ingredients on a box of oyster crackers some day.
Yes, you can buy organic oyster crackers. I swear, you can. The same issue applies , however. I guess "whey powder" is in fact organic. Also, taste them, or better yet, DON'T. The box is tastier. So, out went that possibility.
Casting around, in the crevices of Annalena's mind, a thought came up: POPOVERS.
You remember them, don't you? They seemed to be all the rage in the 70s (don't tell me you weren't born then). I remember an episode of "The Munsters" (Yvonne deCarlo, I HOPE they paid you a lot), where they were featured, and they were a breakfast staple for a long, long time. James Beard championed them, and my understanding is that his stature is being "reassessed" in a positive way. Maybe that's what stimulated them. Who knows?
Anyway, these are easy to make and it's high time they were back on the menu. You need a muffin tin. You have one, somewhere. Go and dig it out and wash it. Then wash it again. You know you have one. (Annalena has the same relationship with muffins that she has with crackers, so hers was hidden. It took an hour to find. It was filthy. It is no longer filthy).
Now, let's get to work. First, before you do anything else, turn your oven up to 450 degrees. While this is happening, grease the muffin tins, and grease them really well. No cheating here. Use butter. REAL butter. And put the greased tins in the oven, for a good ten minutes, while you prep the ingredients. Easy as can be.
Mix together a cup of flour, a half teaspoon of salt, three beaten eggs, a cup of milk and two tablespoons of butter (you can change the fat. Remember Yorkshire pudding? It's popovers, with beef drippings. Bacon fat is used too. Sounds good, doesn't it?)
You will get a very wet, almost soupy batter, thinner (MUCH thinner), than the clam chowder you made from the last entry. Protect your hands, and pull the muffin pan out of the oven. Fill each cup 1/3 or so full ,then put them back in the oven. Close that door, and DO NOT OPEN IT A CRACK. DO NOT OPEN IT A CRACK. DO NOT OPEN IT A CRACK. Leave it for 20 minutes. Then lower the heat, to 350, and bake for another 10-20 minutes. After ten minutes, you can peek if you like, but I wouldn't risk it. Most ovens have a light that you can turn on and get a look at the color. That's what you're looking for: a nice brown color.
These will "pop up" in random fashion. Some will come up straight and tall, like little rockets. Others will look like floppy bunny ears. Some will just refuse to move, period. BUT.. they will all be eggy, soft, and JUST SO DAMN GOOD. The buttering you did previously will allow you to get them out of the tins very easily.
We will be eating them plain, with the soup, but these are superb with some more butter on them. If you are having people over for lunch, and you want to impress, you can fill them with a meat salad of some type, or scrambled eggs (especially if you use the bacon fat option).
It is high time we brought these back into the kitchen and to the dining room. Make some today.
Saturday, January 8, 2011
She certainly can: Annalena uses cans: clam chowder
Yes, Annalena preaches the fresh, the new, the farmers market direct to table approach to cooking. And some may find contradictions in what follows; however, you should read on. Should you determine that there is still a contradiction, so be it. Me? I'm going to go and have some soup.
"Chowder" is one of those words that has disputed meaning, like cioppino. I have heard several explanations of the word, and the one that I like best (for chowder), is that it is a derivation of an old French word for the type of pot used to cook the soup in. (While probably completely incorrect, Annalena loves the explanation of cioppino that says everyone "chipped in o").
Anyway, chowder is one of those American dishes where you can speak to 11 people, and get 11 different explanations on the "right" way to do it. I have seen New Englanders come close to blows over what is and is not appropriate for it (I am speaking now of the "white" clam chowder, which is really chowder in my book. Red clam chowder, or "Manhattan" clam chowder, in Annalena's book, is minestrone with clams in it). Some things seem certain: there must be a pork product in it: be it bacon, salt pork, slab bacon, ham, and so forth. There must also be a dairy component: milk, half and half, cream, and so forth. Clams: what kind of clams is one of the issues that brings up the cans in this recipe. The stock: fish, chicken, clam juice. Potatoes. Definitely. Now the fighting starts: pick a type from each category, then argue about thickener or not, then argue about the spices, and so on and so forth. As a result, "civilized" people write books. There are whole books on chowder. There are competitions. There are "samplers" at bad restaurants where you can get small portions of several different kinds. (You should avoid these restaurants if you can).
Now, we are only talking about CLAM chowder here, because there are corn chowders, lobster chowders, fish chowders, vegetarian chowders, and the list goes on. We will leave those to another day.
So, "clam." Seems like a simple word, huh? Ok, go to a good fish monger and ask for clams. You will be asked in turn "what kind of clams?" Cherrystones? Steamers? Quahogs? See, depending on the species, and the age, clams can range from the size of your thumb nail, to the size of your fists. And we're not even talking about geoduck (google a picture of it. Go ahead), abalone, and the other "giant" clams.
When I buy local clams, the only ones I can get are the small ones. In my view, they are unsuitable for chowder. They toughen, and quite honestly, if you are going to make a good chowder, you need LOTS of clams. So, you can bring back 60 clams, steam them open, burn your fingers, chop them and then when the soup is finished, find them as tough as erasers.
The big clams - the ones from the shells you find at the beach- are rightfully called "chowder" clams sometimes. They are big, tough and interestingly enough, when cooked tenderize, unlike the smaller ones. So.... you can cart four dozen of these back home, try to steam them open (GOOD LUCK), and repeat as above.
NOW do we see why Annalena uses canned clams? Yes, it is an exception, but I will abide by it and I suggest you do the same.
In the pork product category, I prefer smoked bacon. Thinner slices rather than thick ones, because I want the flavor, but not a strong presence.
Dairy: half and half. Cream is WAY too rich. Milk is okay, but just falls a little short, in my view.
Potatoes: yukon golds or russets please. You could use any soup potato, to be honest. They hold their shape, and you want that here.
Thickener: yes, Annalena uses flour in her chowder. Not a lot of it, but some.
Seasoning: I prefer thyme. The standard is bay leaf, which I find overwhelms the clams a bit. You might try marjoram, or savory, if you can find it.
Ok, so now that the controversies are discussed, let's cook. Here's a recipe that will make you a good, solid 3 quarts of chowder.
You need 24 ounces of clam juice (I forgot: I like this better than any other liquid). Also, a pound of potatoes, which you must peel and cut into chunks. Bite sized ones. You will need 2 tablespoons of butter, and a quarter pound of bacon, which you cut into small piece. Also, two onions, peeled and chopped, a cup of chopped celery OR, fennel (in my opinion, better, but this is not shared), a few sprigs of fresh thyme, chopped, a third cup of flour, and canned clams. As many as you like. Finally, a pint of half and half.
Now, let's cook. I love this step. Put the potatoes in a pot with the clam juice, and bring it to a simmer. Cover, and let it cook for about ten minutes. (Isn't that interesting: cooking the potatoes in the clam stock).
While this is cooking, melt the butter in a pot that will eventually be your soup pot, and add the bacon. Cook it slowly for about 6 minutes.
Now, this next step is untraditional, but I think it makes the soup better. You will have a LOT of fat when you cook the bacon in the butter. I poured a quarter cup of it off when I made mine, and traditionally, you do not pour off that fat. It just seemed too "fatty" to Annalena. Pour it all off, except for two tablespoons or so, add the bacon back and add the vegetables and the herbs. Saute' everything for about five minutes and then add the flour. Cook it for a couple of minutes.
While this is cooking, open your clams, drain them and save the juice. After you've cooked the flour, pour the reserved juice in, and stir it together. Watch how it thickens slightly. Or more than slightly. Now, add the potatoes and the clam juice, the clams, and the half and half. Stir it all together. Again, it will thicken a bit, but not all that much. The potatoes are going to carry that for you. Bring the heat down, simmer for five minutes and taste. You might need salt, maybe not. I think you will want pepper. White pepper is traditional. I feel that it tastes like shredded paper. Use black pepper.
And there it is. I like to use a lot of clams, but it's really up to you. Be generous, and then share it.
Maybe cornbread with it? Or popovers? If you're a chowder fan, I would love to know what bread you serve with it.
"Chowder" is one of those words that has disputed meaning, like cioppino. I have heard several explanations of the word, and the one that I like best (for chowder), is that it is a derivation of an old French word for the type of pot used to cook the soup in. (While probably completely incorrect, Annalena loves the explanation of cioppino that says everyone "chipped in o").
Anyway, chowder is one of those American dishes where you can speak to 11 people, and get 11 different explanations on the "right" way to do it. I have seen New Englanders come close to blows over what is and is not appropriate for it (I am speaking now of the "white" clam chowder, which is really chowder in my book. Red clam chowder, or "Manhattan" clam chowder, in Annalena's book, is minestrone with clams in it). Some things seem certain: there must be a pork product in it: be it bacon, salt pork, slab bacon, ham, and so forth. There must also be a dairy component: milk, half and half, cream, and so forth. Clams: what kind of clams is one of the issues that brings up the cans in this recipe. The stock: fish, chicken, clam juice. Potatoes. Definitely. Now the fighting starts: pick a type from each category, then argue about thickener or not, then argue about the spices, and so on and so forth. As a result, "civilized" people write books. There are whole books on chowder. There are competitions. There are "samplers" at bad restaurants where you can get small portions of several different kinds. (You should avoid these restaurants if you can).
Now, we are only talking about CLAM chowder here, because there are corn chowders, lobster chowders, fish chowders, vegetarian chowders, and the list goes on. We will leave those to another day.
So, "clam." Seems like a simple word, huh? Ok, go to a good fish monger and ask for clams. You will be asked in turn "what kind of clams?" Cherrystones? Steamers? Quahogs? See, depending on the species, and the age, clams can range from the size of your thumb nail, to the size of your fists. And we're not even talking about geoduck (google a picture of it. Go ahead), abalone, and the other "giant" clams.
When I buy local clams, the only ones I can get are the small ones. In my view, they are unsuitable for chowder. They toughen, and quite honestly, if you are going to make a good chowder, you need LOTS of clams. So, you can bring back 60 clams, steam them open, burn your fingers, chop them and then when the soup is finished, find them as tough as erasers.
The big clams - the ones from the shells you find at the beach- are rightfully called "chowder" clams sometimes. They are big, tough and interestingly enough, when cooked tenderize, unlike the smaller ones. So.... you can cart four dozen of these back home, try to steam them open (GOOD LUCK), and repeat as above.
NOW do we see why Annalena uses canned clams? Yes, it is an exception, but I will abide by it and I suggest you do the same.
In the pork product category, I prefer smoked bacon. Thinner slices rather than thick ones, because I want the flavor, but not a strong presence.
Dairy: half and half. Cream is WAY too rich. Milk is okay, but just falls a little short, in my view.
Potatoes: yukon golds or russets please. You could use any soup potato, to be honest. They hold their shape, and you want that here.
Thickener: yes, Annalena uses flour in her chowder. Not a lot of it, but some.
Seasoning: I prefer thyme. The standard is bay leaf, which I find overwhelms the clams a bit. You might try marjoram, or savory, if you can find it.
Ok, so now that the controversies are discussed, let's cook. Here's a recipe that will make you a good, solid 3 quarts of chowder.
You need 24 ounces of clam juice (I forgot: I like this better than any other liquid). Also, a pound of potatoes, which you must peel and cut into chunks. Bite sized ones. You will need 2 tablespoons of butter, and a quarter pound of bacon, which you cut into small piece. Also, two onions, peeled and chopped, a cup of chopped celery OR, fennel (in my opinion, better, but this is not shared), a few sprigs of fresh thyme, chopped, a third cup of flour, and canned clams. As many as you like. Finally, a pint of half and half.
Now, let's cook. I love this step. Put the potatoes in a pot with the clam juice, and bring it to a simmer. Cover, and let it cook for about ten minutes. (Isn't that interesting: cooking the potatoes in the clam stock).
While this is cooking, melt the butter in a pot that will eventually be your soup pot, and add the bacon. Cook it slowly for about 6 minutes.
Now, this next step is untraditional, but I think it makes the soup better. You will have a LOT of fat when you cook the bacon in the butter. I poured a quarter cup of it off when I made mine, and traditionally, you do not pour off that fat. It just seemed too "fatty" to Annalena. Pour it all off, except for two tablespoons or so, add the bacon back and add the vegetables and the herbs. Saute' everything for about five minutes and then add the flour. Cook it for a couple of minutes.
While this is cooking, open your clams, drain them and save the juice. After you've cooked the flour, pour the reserved juice in, and stir it together. Watch how it thickens slightly. Or more than slightly. Now, add the potatoes and the clam juice, the clams, and the half and half. Stir it all together. Again, it will thicken a bit, but not all that much. The potatoes are going to carry that for you. Bring the heat down, simmer for five minutes and taste. You might need salt, maybe not. I think you will want pepper. White pepper is traditional. I feel that it tastes like shredded paper. Use black pepper.
And there it is. I like to use a lot of clams, but it's really up to you. Be generous, and then share it.
Maybe cornbread with it? Or popovers? If you're a chowder fan, I would love to know what bread you serve with it.
Thursday, January 6, 2011
Yet more shanks: this time with lemon, olives, tomatoes
What can I say? When you find a theme that works, stick with it? Actually, that ain't what happened here. See, I had made the lamb shanks with prunes for our dinner, not that long ago. And I was looking at our annual gluttony fest on New Year's Day, and wanted to make lamb shanks. But not the same thing. Annalena gets bored very easily. So I looked through the trove or, if you see fit, garbage pit, of recipes that I have accumulated, and found this one.
I THINK it was good. I made 10 lamb shanks and put them out. I didn't get a taste. Neither did Guy.
This one is a bit involved, but it's an interesting dish. The use of molasses is intriguing, sort of like "honey glazed chicken," but not, and the olives and lemons in the end, almost as garnish, is terrific. Almost a variation on gremolata.
Ok, enough twaddle talk. This is involved. Let's go.
You're going to need a whole mess of ingredients here, so I'll spell those out for you first. Of course, the lamb shanks: 8-10 of them. Also molasses, say a heaping half cup of it. (Apparently there is something called light molasses. I've never seen it. I used the regular stuff). You also need a cup of flour, and two tablespoons of good quality paprika. Half a cup of olive oil. Two pounds of onions, that you peel and cube, very roughly. A large can of tomatoes. Pour them out, crush them with your hands, and leave them alone.
Mix together a cup and a half each, of chicken stock, and white wine (this is the ONE time I think that chicken stock and white wine worked for me , with wine. Use a flavorful one. I used gewurztraminer). Peel and crush six cloves of garlic, and grate the peel off of a lemon. Break up two bay leaves. Then, pit and break up almost a cup of green olives. Hold that lemon to the side.
Let's cook. Move the oven to 350. Get a big broad pan out, and first, paint each lamb shank, all over, with molasses. Use a brush. Sprinkle a little salt and pepper over each of them. It will stick to the molasses. Stir together the flour and the paprika, and then sprinkle it over the lamb, or you can use the "shake and bake in a bag" technique. In any event, get the shanks covered with a light dusting of flour.
Put all but about 2 tablespoons of the oil in a big pan, and get it really hot. Then, put in the shanks, but don't pile them up. One layer , please. Brown them well, on all sides. This will take some time : probably about 15 minutes to do them all, be it 8 or 10. When they're done, put them aside. Get a big pot ready, and put in the rest of the o live oil. Add the onions, and saute, for about 10-15 minutes (if you're organized, you can do this while you're doing the shanks. I'm not, so I don't). Then add the tomatoes with their juice, the wine, the broth, the garlic, the lemon peel, the bay leaves, and about a heaping teaspoon of paprika. Bring this to the boil, and then put parchment over the top (just crumbled up), and then cover the pot, and put everything in the oven, for about 2 hours.
You're supposed to stir things and move the shanks around, every 45 minutes. Give me a break. I'm not reinstalling parchment paper every time. I did this with no stirring and after two hours, it was fine. The meat was shiny and glossy and the sauce was delcious.
BUT.. it got better. I took the shanks out of the sauce and then over a medium heat, reduced it for about 20 minutes. It took that long, there's a lot of it.
Put the shanks back in the liquid, and let it rest. Overnight if you can.
The next day, I suggest slicing the meat off of the shanks and letting it sit in the sauce some more. Add the olives, and segment the lemon, just like you were making orange or grapefruit segments. Heat everything together, and put it forth.
DOesn't that sound good? It does. I think I'll have to make it again, so I can taste it.
I THINK it was good. I made 10 lamb shanks and put them out. I didn't get a taste. Neither did Guy.
This one is a bit involved, but it's an interesting dish. The use of molasses is intriguing, sort of like "honey glazed chicken," but not, and the olives and lemons in the end, almost as garnish, is terrific. Almost a variation on gremolata.
Ok, enough twaddle talk. This is involved. Let's go.
You're going to need a whole mess of ingredients here, so I'll spell those out for you first. Of course, the lamb shanks: 8-10 of them. Also molasses, say a heaping half cup of it. (Apparently there is something called light molasses. I've never seen it. I used the regular stuff). You also need a cup of flour, and two tablespoons of good quality paprika. Half a cup of olive oil. Two pounds of onions, that you peel and cube, very roughly. A large can of tomatoes. Pour them out, crush them with your hands, and leave them alone.
Mix together a cup and a half each, of chicken stock, and white wine (this is the ONE time I think that chicken stock and white wine worked for me , with wine. Use a flavorful one. I used gewurztraminer). Peel and crush six cloves of garlic, and grate the peel off of a lemon. Break up two bay leaves. Then, pit and break up almost a cup of green olives. Hold that lemon to the side.
Let's cook. Move the oven to 350. Get a big broad pan out, and first, paint each lamb shank, all over, with molasses. Use a brush. Sprinkle a little salt and pepper over each of them. It will stick to the molasses. Stir together the flour and the paprika, and then sprinkle it over the lamb, or you can use the "shake and bake in a bag" technique. In any event, get the shanks covered with a light dusting of flour.
Put all but about 2 tablespoons of the oil in a big pan, and get it really hot. Then, put in the shanks, but don't pile them up. One layer , please. Brown them well, on all sides. This will take some time : probably about 15 minutes to do them all, be it 8 or 10. When they're done, put them aside. Get a big pot ready, and put in the rest of the o live oil. Add the onions, and saute, for about 10-15 minutes (if you're organized, you can do this while you're doing the shanks. I'm not, so I don't). Then add the tomatoes with their juice, the wine, the broth, the garlic, the lemon peel, the bay leaves, and about a heaping teaspoon of paprika. Bring this to the boil, and then put parchment over the top (just crumbled up), and then cover the pot, and put everything in the oven, for about 2 hours.
You're supposed to stir things and move the shanks around, every 45 minutes. Give me a break. I'm not reinstalling parchment paper every time. I did this with no stirring and after two hours, it was fine. The meat was shiny and glossy and the sauce was delcious.
BUT.. it got better. I took the shanks out of the sauce and then over a medium heat, reduced it for about 20 minutes. It took that long, there's a lot of it.
Put the shanks back in the liquid, and let it rest. Overnight if you can.
The next day, I suggest slicing the meat off of the shanks and letting it sit in the sauce some more. Add the olives, and segment the lemon, just like you were making orange or grapefruit segments. Heat everything together, and put it forth.
DOesn't that sound good? It does. I think I'll have to make it again, so I can taste it.
She's so predictable: lamb shanks AGAIN
I admit it. When I planned to post the following recipe, I wondered if I had ever written about lamb shanks before. In fact I have. More than once. And back at the end of January, 09, I posted a recipe that is somewhat similar to this one. But this one is simpler, and I think better. And then tomorrow... you're gonna get YET ANOTHER lamb shank recipe.
Who can figure? I guess they've become my favorite cut of lamb, at least during the cold weather. I made this one for a weekday dinner. You have to do some planning, because you can't come in the door and have dinner on the table in an hour, but the "work" involved is absolutely minimal, as you will see. And it's really, really good.
First, you need the shanks. Get 4 that weigh about a pound each. Karen, my lamb lady, says that you should always ask for the fore shank. That's the one that's got the rounded end to it. Even sized pieces mean even cooking. If you can, salt them, and sprinkle some pepper on them the night before, and leave them exposed in the fridge. If not, pat them as dry as you can and then season them. Put them aside while you gather your other ingrdients.
Which are.... about half a cup of olive oil ( a scant half cup: 3 ounces in closer), a big onion, or two smaller onions (following up on a comment that a chef left on this site yesterday, my "big" may not be your "big." Don't sweat it). So, too, with the large carrot that you need, which you peel and slice up. You also need a cup of prunes. Now, when you buy dried fruit like prunes, you should take as much care as you do with any other food. Go to a good store, with good volume and get juicy, soft, luscious prunes. You can do it. Then, get a head of garlic - a nice big one, and slice it, horizontally, through the middle.
My original recipe called for 1/4 teaspoon of cardamom. I laughed at that. If you don't look closely, you'll never see the seeds. I tripled this. Don't use ground stuff: I'm talking whole seeds here.
Finally, you'll need three cups of liquid. My original recipe called for 2 cups of beef stock and one of chicken. Honestly, ragazzi, that will work, but I just find that chicken stock thins the flavor of lamb. If you stick to stock, use all beef. Annalena used half beef stock, and half hearty red wine: syrah.
Now, preheat your oven to 350, and get about half of the oil in a big, wide pot. When it's hot, add the lamb shanks, and cook them, at medium to high heat, until they brown. Take your time here. Don't even look for 3 minutes as you move them around. When you've got them browned all over, take them out and put them aside. Put a bit more oil in, and then the vegetables. Lower your heat, and saute' these, until they're nice and brown. Again, take your time: plan on between 5-10 minutes. When you've got nice color, add the rest of the ingredients, and bring it to the boil. At that point, add the shanks, cover the pot, and move it to the oven. Plan to cook this stuff for at least an hour and a half, closer to 2 hours. I like to check after an hour, and turn the lamb, so that it all cooks evenly.
You will wind up with shanks that WILL fall off the bone if you push, but these are not "killer soft," like the recipe we'll look at tomorrow is. You can take the shanks and the other solids out of the sauce and then reduce it, if you like. Pour the sauce, however you work it, over the lamb.
A nice bit of couscous or polenta underneath the lamb is the thing here.
Nice and savory, hot, and a perfect winter meal. Not very hard to do either. GO with it.
Who can figure? I guess they've become my favorite cut of lamb, at least during the cold weather. I made this one for a weekday dinner. You have to do some planning, because you can't come in the door and have dinner on the table in an hour, but the "work" involved is absolutely minimal, as you will see. And it's really, really good.
First, you need the shanks. Get 4 that weigh about a pound each. Karen, my lamb lady, says that you should always ask for the fore shank. That's the one that's got the rounded end to it. Even sized pieces mean even cooking. If you can, salt them, and sprinkle some pepper on them the night before, and leave them exposed in the fridge. If not, pat them as dry as you can and then season them. Put them aside while you gather your other ingrdients.
Which are.... about half a cup of olive oil ( a scant half cup: 3 ounces in closer), a big onion, or two smaller onions (following up on a comment that a chef left on this site yesterday, my "big" may not be your "big." Don't sweat it). So, too, with the large carrot that you need, which you peel and slice up. You also need a cup of prunes. Now, when you buy dried fruit like prunes, you should take as much care as you do with any other food. Go to a good store, with good volume and get juicy, soft, luscious prunes. You can do it. Then, get a head of garlic - a nice big one, and slice it, horizontally, through the middle.
My original recipe called for 1/4 teaspoon of cardamom. I laughed at that. If you don't look closely, you'll never see the seeds. I tripled this. Don't use ground stuff: I'm talking whole seeds here.
Finally, you'll need three cups of liquid. My original recipe called for 2 cups of beef stock and one of chicken. Honestly, ragazzi, that will work, but I just find that chicken stock thins the flavor of lamb. If you stick to stock, use all beef. Annalena used half beef stock, and half hearty red wine: syrah.
Now, preheat your oven to 350, and get about half of the oil in a big, wide pot. When it's hot, add the lamb shanks, and cook them, at medium to high heat, until they brown. Take your time here. Don't even look for 3 minutes as you move them around. When you've got them browned all over, take them out and put them aside. Put a bit more oil in, and then the vegetables. Lower your heat, and saute' these, until they're nice and brown. Again, take your time: plan on between 5-10 minutes. When you've got nice color, add the rest of the ingredients, and bring it to the boil. At that point, add the shanks, cover the pot, and move it to the oven. Plan to cook this stuff for at least an hour and a half, closer to 2 hours. I like to check after an hour, and turn the lamb, so that it all cooks evenly.
You will wind up with shanks that WILL fall off the bone if you push, but these are not "killer soft," like the recipe we'll look at tomorrow is. You can take the shanks and the other solids out of the sauce and then reduce it, if you like. Pour the sauce, however you work it, over the lamb.
A nice bit of couscous or polenta underneath the lamb is the thing here.
Nice and savory, hot, and a perfect winter meal. Not very hard to do either. GO with it.
Wednesday, January 5, 2011
The old dog learns MORE new tricks: cinnamon roasted potatoes
You know, there are times when you think you know EVERYTHING, or at least enough so that you can say "that's it! I can stop here." The matter in question can be big, or small. In the case of roasting potatoes, I guess it's small , in terms of something like, oh, world politics, but when you step back from that kind of myopic view, it's a little bigger.
Roasted potatoes. Now, who doesn't love them? If you're eating carbs, you love them, admit it. And I HAD been looking for the ideal recipe for them, for years. See, with only two of us around, frying potatoes does not really come across as a viable practice, especially since we're both watching our weight (having said that, Annalena fesses up to having bought herself a frying machine on sale), french fries are "off the menu," at least at home. Instead, we have "oven fries." They're good. I slice up the potatoes sort of in the form of thick cut fries, parboil 'em, drain em, salt and oil them, and bake them at a very high temperature. They come out sort of like fries, and truth to be told, I actually like the taste better.
They do have their problems. Sometimes, they don't cook all the way through. They stick to the baking sheet at times. And if you put too many of them on the baking sheet, you wind up with steamed potatoes rather than "fried" potatoes. So, when the redoubtable Melissa Clark posted a recipe for roasted potatoes, it caught my eye.
Ms. Clark writes for the Times. Unlike Mr. Bittman, about whom I have written before, I LOVE Ms. Clark's style, and her recipes. Even if the item in question is not one of my favorite things (like salmon...), I find the recipes clear, simple, and designed to deliver FLAVOR. She also writes a description of how she got to the recipe, and I always find that entertaining.
The recipe she posted called for roasting the potatoes with cinnamon. Now THAT interested me even more, because one of Annalena's goals for 2011 is to actually USE more of her extensive spice collection, and to use the spices in more interesting ways. Potatoes with cinnamon: it sounds a little Indian, but not really. Hmmmm.
Let me tell you write up front: I think the cinnamon did not work. I asked the Guy man if he could taste the cinnamon, and he couldn't, and neither could I. I'm going to try the recipe with sweet potatoes, and let's see if there's a difference. In the interim, perhaps your palette is more developed than mine, and you'll taste it. Maybe more cinnamon is necessary. But putting all of that aside, the potatoes were wonderful.
You need some time to do these, but you need very little effort. Give them a try. I'm including the cinnamon in the recipe, but I don't think you need it.
One other thing. This recipe, as written, says that it serves four.
RIGHT. The two of us put all of these potatoes away, and I could have eaten the whole pan of them myself. 1.5 pounds of potatoes for four people. Maybe if you're feeding Hobbits.
Ok, let's forget about the hobbits and cook. You start with a pound and a half of potatoes. Something all purpose and good, like a Yukon gold, or carolas, or something like that. Use any baking or roasting potato, but don't use a boiler (ASK). You don't have to peel them, but wash them (bet you didn't know that potato skins have just about the highest concentration of natural toxins than anything else. At least get that off of them). Cut the taters into nice, big chunks. You will also need six cloves of garlic, but don't peel them. Also, 3 tablespoons of olive oil, a stick of cinnamon that you break into pieces, a teaspoon of salt, and a bit of pepper.
Preheat your oven to 325. Put everything into a pan that holds it in essentially one layer. (Ms. Clark calls for cast iron. I don't have cast iron, and we were fine). 325 is a VERY low temperature, and you will never brown the potatoes at that temperature. Rather, you'll cook them for about 75 minutes, stirring every 25 minutes or so. You will be softening them beautifully. At the end of that time "kick it up a notch" and roast the potatoes at 450 for about 15 minutes. Check them after ten minutes and if they're not brown enough for you, just keep on cooking, stirring them every now and then.
Protect your hand and take the pan out of the oven. Let them cool for a few minutes and then dish them onto.... TWO plates. Or just one. (Can you imagine how good these would be with some cheese sauce poured over them?).
I tried this recipe with white sweet potatoes. The inherent "spiciness" we taste in sweet potatoes worked well. Your humble correspondent could not taste the cinnamon; however, the Guy Man said that the dish would be very different without it. Fair enough. Go forth. Make it. The sweet potatoes were FAAAAAAAAAAAAAAABULOUS with pork tenderloin
Roasted potatoes. Now, who doesn't love them? If you're eating carbs, you love them, admit it. And I HAD been looking for the ideal recipe for them, for years. See, with only two of us around, frying potatoes does not really come across as a viable practice, especially since we're both watching our weight (having said that, Annalena fesses up to having bought herself a frying machine on sale), french fries are "off the menu," at least at home. Instead, we have "oven fries." They're good. I slice up the potatoes sort of in the form of thick cut fries, parboil 'em, drain em, salt and oil them, and bake them at a very high temperature. They come out sort of like fries, and truth to be told, I actually like the taste better.
They do have their problems. Sometimes, they don't cook all the way through. They stick to the baking sheet at times. And if you put too many of them on the baking sheet, you wind up with steamed potatoes rather than "fried" potatoes. So, when the redoubtable Melissa Clark posted a recipe for roasted potatoes, it caught my eye.
Ms. Clark writes for the Times. Unlike Mr. Bittman, about whom I have written before, I LOVE Ms. Clark's style, and her recipes. Even if the item in question is not one of my favorite things (like salmon...), I find the recipes clear, simple, and designed to deliver FLAVOR. She also writes a description of how she got to the recipe, and I always find that entertaining.
The recipe she posted called for roasting the potatoes with cinnamon. Now THAT interested me even more, because one of Annalena's goals for 2011 is to actually USE more of her extensive spice collection, and to use the spices in more interesting ways. Potatoes with cinnamon: it sounds a little Indian, but not really. Hmmmm.
Let me tell you write up front: I think the cinnamon did not work. I asked the Guy man if he could taste the cinnamon, and he couldn't, and neither could I. I'm going to try the recipe with sweet potatoes, and let's see if there's a difference. In the interim, perhaps your palette is more developed than mine, and you'll taste it. Maybe more cinnamon is necessary. But putting all of that aside, the potatoes were wonderful.
You need some time to do these, but you need very little effort. Give them a try. I'm including the cinnamon in the recipe, but I don't think you need it.
One other thing. This recipe, as written, says that it serves four.
RIGHT. The two of us put all of these potatoes away, and I could have eaten the whole pan of them myself. 1.5 pounds of potatoes for four people. Maybe if you're feeding Hobbits.
Ok, let's forget about the hobbits and cook. You start with a pound and a half of potatoes. Something all purpose and good, like a Yukon gold, or carolas, or something like that. Use any baking or roasting potato, but don't use a boiler (ASK). You don't have to peel them, but wash them (bet you didn't know that potato skins have just about the highest concentration of natural toxins than anything else. At least get that off of them). Cut the taters into nice, big chunks. You will also need six cloves of garlic, but don't peel them. Also, 3 tablespoons of olive oil, a stick of cinnamon that you break into pieces, a teaspoon of salt, and a bit of pepper.
Preheat your oven to 325. Put everything into a pan that holds it in essentially one layer. (Ms. Clark calls for cast iron. I don't have cast iron, and we were fine). 325 is a VERY low temperature, and you will never brown the potatoes at that temperature. Rather, you'll cook them for about 75 minutes, stirring every 25 minutes or so. You will be softening them beautifully. At the end of that time "kick it up a notch" and roast the potatoes at 450 for about 15 minutes. Check them after ten minutes and if they're not brown enough for you, just keep on cooking, stirring them every now and then.
Protect your hand and take the pan out of the oven. Let them cool for a few minutes and then dish them onto.... TWO plates. Or just one. (Can you imagine how good these would be with some cheese sauce poured over them?).
I tried this recipe with white sweet potatoes. The inherent "spiciness" we taste in sweet potatoes worked well. Your humble correspondent could not taste the cinnamon; however, the Guy Man said that the dish would be very different without it. Fair enough. Go forth. Make it. The sweet potatoes were FAAAAAAAAAAAAAAABULOUS with pork tenderloin
Tuesday, January 4, 2011
An old dog CAN learn new tricks: slow cooked, high temperature monkfish
I guess there are a fair number of adages that you could use here: nothing new under the sun; you can teach an old dog new tricks; don't be stupid, etc, etc, etc. Whatever you want to use, go right ahead. Recently, Annalena learned something new about cooking fish, and given the ultimate purity and goodness of her heart (that IS really true), she decided to share it with you.
Many people don't cook fish, because they're afraid of it. That's not without reason. In a culture that values meat as much as ours does, the fact that fish cooks differently than meat - very differently - is a factor to be reckoned with. As is its cost. No one wants to buy, for example, tuna, at 18 dollars a pound, and ruin it. (meat usually doesn't cost that much, and the cuts that do are somewhat more resilient to bad cooking than others. Beyond that, most people who buy cuts that dear, do know how to cook them. Not all though. Annalena has suffered through her share of bad beef tenderloin).
Ok, mini rant over. If you like fish, LEARN to cook it. People cook it all the time. Learn to cook the varieties you like, because it ain't no sin to not like them all. Look through the 500 plus entries in this blog: you will not find a single salmon recipe. There's a reason for that. Or mackerel, or blue fish, and several others. Nope, not up my alley.
Anyway, here's the deal. Just about every recipe for fish goes for either the long, slow cooking route (I do have a recipe for salmon that bakes it, at 275 for an hour), or the fast and very hot (I have a recipe for tuna steaks where you heat a grill for ten minutes, and cook the steaks for a minute on a side). NEVER do you see long cooking, at high temperatures.
Now, of course, "long" and "high" are relative terms, like so many other terms are. The recipe I am going to give you uses a temperature of 450, which is pretty high, and cooks the fish for half an hour, which in my book, is pretty long for cooking a fish fillet. But it works. In fact, it works better than just about every recipe I have for monkfish.
When you confront monkfish, one of the first things you encounter is its texture. This stuff is dense, more like a steak than a white fish. What you're getting is the tail of a big old ugly fish (google monkfish. Look at the face. I think that even mothers would have trouble with that one). The head is inedible, but the tail is meaty and good. But that texture means that it is very easy to cook the fish wrong, and get something rather rubbery, sort of the way squid comes out if you cook it any way other than... fast and high, or slow and long (ask me for my recipe for squid stuffed with shrimp if you like. Long and slow). Cooking the monkfish this way turned it very flaky and downright terrific.
Ok, let's stop chatting and start cooking. Get some monkfish fillets, and it really doesn't matter how much you get. I've done this with a solid, 1.5 pound piece, and four 8 ounce fillets. You will need a non stick pan that can hold all of your fish in one layer. Also - and don't worry - you won't use much - a cup or so of flour that you mix in a plastic bag with two teaspoons of salt, and something to flavor the fish. I learned this with fresh herbs, but then tried it with curry. The curry works better. So, use some curry. Use a LOT of curry (we don't use enough of it in our cooking). Put a heaping tablespoon of your favorite kind into that seasoned flour, and shake it to mix. Then add the monkfish and shake it around to coat it. You can dispense with the extra flour by putting everything into a strainer and shaking to get the excess flour out. If you're the obsessive type, measure what's left. Nearly a cup.
While you're doing this, preheat your oven, to 450, and get a non stick pan with three tablespoons of olive oil in it, wicked hot. WICKED hot. It would probably be a good idea to start heating the oil about five minutes before you start prepping the fish. When the oil is hot, put it gently into the pan, and sear for about a minute. Turn the fish over (use tongs), as if you were cooking meat, until you've seared all sides of it. When you have done that, add six cloves of unpeeled garlic to the pan. OFF the heat, add a cup of white wine (my choice), or chicken or fish stock (if you are being noble). Then put the whole pan into the oven. Set a timer for fifteen minutes, and then turn the fish over for another fifteen minutes, if your pieces are very big, or another ten, if they are on the small side.
Protect your hand, and take the pan out of the oven. The fish will be seared wonderfully, and the liquid will have reduced to a sauce that has been enriched by some of the fish juices. Portion it out, and pour the sauce over each piece. You don't have to share the garlic if you don't want to, but it's a nice touch, especially if you put bread out with the fish, since folks can squeeze garlic onto it and eat it as if they were eating chicken with forty cloves of garlic.
You can do this. Go back through the recipe. Perhaps the hardest thing on the list was putting the fish in the bag.
Long and high. There's probably some kind of sexual innuendo there, but remember Annalena's pure heart. She wouldn't know.
Many people don't cook fish, because they're afraid of it. That's not without reason. In a culture that values meat as much as ours does, the fact that fish cooks differently than meat - very differently - is a factor to be reckoned with. As is its cost. No one wants to buy, for example, tuna, at 18 dollars a pound, and ruin it. (meat usually doesn't cost that much, and the cuts that do are somewhat more resilient to bad cooking than others. Beyond that, most people who buy cuts that dear, do know how to cook them. Not all though. Annalena has suffered through her share of bad beef tenderloin).
Ok, mini rant over. If you like fish, LEARN to cook it. People cook it all the time. Learn to cook the varieties you like, because it ain't no sin to not like them all. Look through the 500 plus entries in this blog: you will not find a single salmon recipe. There's a reason for that. Or mackerel, or blue fish, and several others. Nope, not up my alley.
Anyway, here's the deal. Just about every recipe for fish goes for either the long, slow cooking route (I do have a recipe for salmon that bakes it, at 275 for an hour), or the fast and very hot (I have a recipe for tuna steaks where you heat a grill for ten minutes, and cook the steaks for a minute on a side). NEVER do you see long cooking, at high temperatures.
Now, of course, "long" and "high" are relative terms, like so many other terms are. The recipe I am going to give you uses a temperature of 450, which is pretty high, and cooks the fish for half an hour, which in my book, is pretty long for cooking a fish fillet. But it works. In fact, it works better than just about every recipe I have for monkfish.
When you confront monkfish, one of the first things you encounter is its texture. This stuff is dense, more like a steak than a white fish. What you're getting is the tail of a big old ugly fish (google monkfish. Look at the face. I think that even mothers would have trouble with that one). The head is inedible, but the tail is meaty and good. But that texture means that it is very easy to cook the fish wrong, and get something rather rubbery, sort of the way squid comes out if you cook it any way other than... fast and high, or slow and long (ask me for my recipe for squid stuffed with shrimp if you like. Long and slow). Cooking the monkfish this way turned it very flaky and downright terrific.
Ok, let's stop chatting and start cooking. Get some monkfish fillets, and it really doesn't matter how much you get. I've done this with a solid, 1.5 pound piece, and four 8 ounce fillets. You will need a non stick pan that can hold all of your fish in one layer. Also - and don't worry - you won't use much - a cup or so of flour that you mix in a plastic bag with two teaspoons of salt, and something to flavor the fish. I learned this with fresh herbs, but then tried it with curry. The curry works better. So, use some curry. Use a LOT of curry (we don't use enough of it in our cooking). Put a heaping tablespoon of your favorite kind into that seasoned flour, and shake it to mix. Then add the monkfish and shake it around to coat it. You can dispense with the extra flour by putting everything into a strainer and shaking to get the excess flour out. If you're the obsessive type, measure what's left. Nearly a cup.
While you're doing this, preheat your oven, to 450, and get a non stick pan with three tablespoons of olive oil in it, wicked hot. WICKED hot. It would probably be a good idea to start heating the oil about five minutes before you start prepping the fish. When the oil is hot, put it gently into the pan, and sear for about a minute. Turn the fish over (use tongs), as if you were cooking meat, until you've seared all sides of it. When you have done that, add six cloves of unpeeled garlic to the pan. OFF the heat, add a cup of white wine (my choice), or chicken or fish stock (if you are being noble). Then put the whole pan into the oven. Set a timer for fifteen minutes, and then turn the fish over for another fifteen minutes, if your pieces are very big, or another ten, if they are on the small side.
Protect your hand, and take the pan out of the oven. The fish will be seared wonderfully, and the liquid will have reduced to a sauce that has been enriched by some of the fish juices. Portion it out, and pour the sauce over each piece. You don't have to share the garlic if you don't want to, but it's a nice touch, especially if you put bread out with the fish, since folks can squeeze garlic onto it and eat it as if they were eating chicken with forty cloves of garlic.
You can do this. Go back through the recipe. Perhaps the hardest thing on the list was putting the fish in the bag.
Long and high. There's probably some kind of sexual innuendo there, but remember Annalena's pure heart. She wouldn't know.
Monday, January 3, 2011
Borrowing from Anita: duck and papaya salad
Anita Lo is the best cook in New York City, PERIOD. There, I've said it. There will be people who will argue with me, chefs who will not speak to me anymore, but I have spoken my piece. I will say so again: ANITA LO IS THE BEST COOK IN NEW YORK CITY.
Every time I eat at her restaurant (Anissa), I am FLOORED. The dishes that come out do more than amaze. The dazzle. They make Annalena, who can figure out most dishes, sit back and think "how the hell..." And she thinks it over and over again.
One time, I in fact told this to Anita. She laughed and said "oh, come by some Saturday afternoon, and I'll teach you everything I know."
I don't think so.
Anyway, while I cannot reproduce her recipes, I can riff on them. And this is one such riff.
The last time we ate at Anissa, we were served a transcendant "salad" of green papaya, duck confit, and spices. It was a tastings menu, so there wasn't a lot of it. I wanted to crawl back to the kitchen, hunt for the bowl of it, and eat more. And more. And more.
Know what? There wasn't to be. It was not on the menu. They made it for us.
I hate it when that happens. Not really, but I do. You know what I mean.
That was over a month ago and, as I've said before, when a dish stays with you for a month, it is a keeper. I will ask for it again. In the meanwhile, for those of us who don't have Anita's talent, here is my riff on it.
First, you need to make duck rilettes. I believe I have explained this before, but in case: it is very easy. You need to buy duck confit. (you could, of course MAKE it. More power to you). For a large batch, use six legs. Discard the skin (your hands will become very greasy), and just tear the meat off the legs. Don't worry about size, precision, etc, just get as much of it as you can. When you have it all, put it in a food processor and pulse a few times. Or, cut it roughly to a chop. You want the pieces to be less than bite size. Now, put them in a pan, with some olive oil, a few branches of chopped thyme, and some salt. LOW heat, please, just until things are warmed through. Taste for seasoning. It should be rather agressive. Then, off the heat, add more oil, because the meat is going to absorb it.
If you happen to be able to find a green papaya, fabulous. If not, use one of those monstrous ones. Not the small ones that you can buy at any grocery. No, go to a Latino or Asian grocery, and get the BIG one. I think they sort of look like crocodiles basking: big, oval green things that may be a bit scary. For the six confit legs, you'll need one of them. Peel it. This may take some doing. Then, cut it down the middle, length wise, to get the pretty seeds out. You won't be using these things ,but you can eat them or at least suck the purple pulp off of them. Now, cut the papaya into thick matchstick pieces. Don't worry about evenness. This is rustic cooking.
Put the papaya in a bowl, and add a small teaspoon of salt. Stir it together, and then add a few tablespoons of rice vinegar, and about half as much sesame oil (NOT the refined stuff. Use the dark brown one). Toss this together, then add the duck confit, and put this all in the fridge, covered, for a few hours, or overnight.
The next day, you will have a transcendent salad. Put it on soft lettuce leaves if you like, or put it in martini glasses, but however you serve it, show it some respect. This is not an inexpensive dish, nor is it a mild, retiring one. If you know Anita, you will understand that that is not surprising.
It is no wonder she and Annalena get along
Every time I eat at her restaurant (Anissa), I am FLOORED. The dishes that come out do more than amaze. The dazzle. They make Annalena, who can figure out most dishes, sit back and think "how the hell..." And she thinks it over and over again.
One time, I in fact told this to Anita. She laughed and said "oh, come by some Saturday afternoon, and I'll teach you everything I know."
I don't think so.
Anyway, while I cannot reproduce her recipes, I can riff on them. And this is one such riff.
The last time we ate at Anissa, we were served a transcendant "salad" of green papaya, duck confit, and spices. It was a tastings menu, so there wasn't a lot of it. I wanted to crawl back to the kitchen, hunt for the bowl of it, and eat more. And more. And more.
Know what? There wasn't to be. It was not on the menu. They made it for us.
I hate it when that happens. Not really, but I do. You know what I mean.
That was over a month ago and, as I've said before, when a dish stays with you for a month, it is a keeper. I will ask for it again. In the meanwhile, for those of us who don't have Anita's talent, here is my riff on it.
First, you need to make duck rilettes. I believe I have explained this before, but in case: it is very easy. You need to buy duck confit. (you could, of course MAKE it. More power to you). For a large batch, use six legs. Discard the skin (your hands will become very greasy), and just tear the meat off the legs. Don't worry about size, precision, etc, just get as much of it as you can. When you have it all, put it in a food processor and pulse a few times. Or, cut it roughly to a chop. You want the pieces to be less than bite size. Now, put them in a pan, with some olive oil, a few branches of chopped thyme, and some salt. LOW heat, please, just until things are warmed through. Taste for seasoning. It should be rather agressive. Then, off the heat, add more oil, because the meat is going to absorb it.
If you happen to be able to find a green papaya, fabulous. If not, use one of those monstrous ones. Not the small ones that you can buy at any grocery. No, go to a Latino or Asian grocery, and get the BIG one. I think they sort of look like crocodiles basking: big, oval green things that may be a bit scary. For the six confit legs, you'll need one of them. Peel it. This may take some doing. Then, cut it down the middle, length wise, to get the pretty seeds out. You won't be using these things ,but you can eat them or at least suck the purple pulp off of them. Now, cut the papaya into thick matchstick pieces. Don't worry about evenness. This is rustic cooking.
Put the papaya in a bowl, and add a small teaspoon of salt. Stir it together, and then add a few tablespoons of rice vinegar, and about half as much sesame oil (NOT the refined stuff. Use the dark brown one). Toss this together, then add the duck confit, and put this all in the fridge, covered, for a few hours, or overnight.
The next day, you will have a transcendent salad. Put it on soft lettuce leaves if you like, or put it in martini glasses, but however you serve it, show it some respect. This is not an inexpensive dish, nor is it a mild, retiring one. If you know Anita, you will understand that that is not surprising.
It is no wonder she and Annalena get along
Sunday, January 2, 2011
Back again in 2011: Banana Pudding
Did you miss me, ragazzi? Well, I DID miss you. Annalena has had much happen in her life over the last month, including surgery, the loss of a loved one, changes, changes and more changes, and try as she might to get to the computer to give you more, and to discharge her duty of energizing cooks everywhere, she failed.
Mi dispiace, as we said in the old country (Long Island City). Annalena does not make New Year's resolutions, rather, she resolves to make changes in her life. And here we go. I will TRY to write every day. I may not succeed. I sometimes think "oh, I've written on this topic, no one will want to know." Well, if you tell me what you want to know, that will solve the problem (it is a VERY quiet readership out there, you know). I do have a set of recipes to share with you from December, and I will get them down here. But I ask for your help as we go forward. I remember like yesterday, entry number 300. We are just about 60 away from 600. Let's make it.
Rather than start with a "temple days" recipe for the New Year, we're going to start with something rich, creamy and comfortable. Annalena has a feeling that she is not the only one who is glad that 2010 is over, and that the consensus around is that, while all would like to be rigorous and stern and healthy, all need just a little more coddling. This will coddle you quite nicely. But you need some patience. You do.
When I first learned how to make this, it was at the hands of my dear departed teacher, Richard Sax. His version is a rather streamlined one of a recipe which, as I have learned, has adherents to various forms and formats. We did not have this when I was a child: if we ate pudding, Nana made it out of a box, put canned fruit in it, and that was it. Bananas we ate as bananas, or on Corn flakes. That was it.
Richard explained all the various versions he had encountered when he was researching the recipe, and eventually decided on the simplest of simple recipes. I liked a more "complex" one, and Richard was , as always, very sweet. "Then make it that way in your kitchen. Not in mine though."
For 20 plus years, I did not make it. Then, last year (oops. Two years ago), at our New Year's bash, I tried this out. It was the ONLY dish people talked about, so I made it again this year. Now, it shall go on hiatus, as I bring back tiramisu, or cream puffs, or something else of a creamy, custardy nature. It should not disappear from the foundations of your dessert repertoire. It is rather easy to make, makes plenty (unless you are extremely hungry), and is rather inexpensive. Unless.. as you will see.
I am doubling the recipe that Richard taught me, because you really want to double this. You will start with 5 cups of dairy: it can all be milk, and it CAN be 2% milk, but I would not go below that. I like to use 4 cups of whole milk and one cup of heavy cream, mostly because it's convenient. But vary the types of dairy you use, if you like. Just don't go too low on the fat content. It's pudding, remember. You also need about 3/4 cup of sugar. white sugar is traditional, but you could use brown. Keep in mind that brown sugar is no more healthy for you than white. Use it if you like the taste better, but don't kid yourself. This is not a "smart choice" dessert. You also need 2 large eggs, and 2 additional egg youlks. As well, half a cup of cornstarch (if you are going to be making pudding, buy a large jar of cornstarch). Finally, a couple of tablespoons of unsalted butter, a tablespoon of vanilla extract, and six ripe bananas. Six VERY ripe bananas.
Now, we are all used to the big yellow ones. These are Cavendish bananas, and they work fine in this recipe. If, however, you are fortunate enough to live near a store that has tropical produce, look for ripe finger bananas, or ripe red bananas, that turn black when they are red, or any of the other sweet bananas. Do not use plantains, regardless of how ripe they are. They are too starchy for this dish.
The big point where Richard and I had our disagreements, was on the cookies. He felt the cookies that I am about to write about took away from the dish. I don't agree. Wince, and buy a box of nilla vanilla wafers. Do not use your own homemade cookies. They do not have the stabilizers in them, that you need for the dish.
Now that you've collected everything, let's cook. It will not be difficult. In a bowl, mix one cup of dairy, the sugar, the eggs and yolks and the cornstarch. Whisk this to as smooth as you can, but don't be ridiculous about it.
In a big pot, bring the milk just to a boil. Keep an eye on it, and whisk. Milk boils over very easily. When it's just there (bubbles around the edges), take it off the heat, and combine the milk and what's in the bowl. Put one or the other in the other, it don't much matter, but get it back on the heat, lower the heat, and stir. Keep an eye on it. At some point, the mixture will begin to get glossy and thick. You may even begin to get "plops" as it boils up. You're there. Get it off the heat. Stir in the butter and vanilla.
Now, assembly. I like to use a 9x13 inch pan, but a big glass bowl shall work beautifully as well. Pour some of the pudding in, and then slice half of the bananas in. You can lay them out in rows, like I do, or just plop them into the pudding. Then, put some more pudding in, and cover the pudding with the wafers. Repeat this until you use up the bananas and pudding. You probably will not use up the cookies. Then, cover the receptacle with plastic, and refrigerate it. Two hours is the absolute minimum. Overnight is even better.
The cookies will swell up, but not fall apart. They keep their round shape. The banana oils will get into the pudding and flavor it, and since the pudding is still hot, the bananas will 'cook ' a bit and get softer.
My understanding is that many people who grew up other than on the coasts, grew up with this dish and love it. I have heard of chocolate chips, nuts, sprinkles, marshmallows, candied cherries, etc, going into it. As Richard told me "in your kitchen, do what you want." I may, at some point, put some blueberries into mine, but not for now.
This is for all my friends who praised the pudding this year. Say a sweet farewell to it, ragazzi, it will be on hiatus next year.
Mi dispiace, as we said in the old country (Long Island City). Annalena does not make New Year's resolutions, rather, she resolves to make changes in her life. And here we go. I will TRY to write every day. I may not succeed. I sometimes think "oh, I've written on this topic, no one will want to know." Well, if you tell me what you want to know, that will solve the problem (it is a VERY quiet readership out there, you know). I do have a set of recipes to share with you from December, and I will get them down here. But I ask for your help as we go forward. I remember like yesterday, entry number 300. We are just about 60 away from 600. Let's make it.
Rather than start with a "temple days" recipe for the New Year, we're going to start with something rich, creamy and comfortable. Annalena has a feeling that she is not the only one who is glad that 2010 is over, and that the consensus around is that, while all would like to be rigorous and stern and healthy, all need just a little more coddling. This will coddle you quite nicely. But you need some patience. You do.
When I first learned how to make this, it was at the hands of my dear departed teacher, Richard Sax. His version is a rather streamlined one of a recipe which, as I have learned, has adherents to various forms and formats. We did not have this when I was a child: if we ate pudding, Nana made it out of a box, put canned fruit in it, and that was it. Bananas we ate as bananas, or on Corn flakes. That was it.
Richard explained all the various versions he had encountered when he was researching the recipe, and eventually decided on the simplest of simple recipes. I liked a more "complex" one, and Richard was , as always, very sweet. "Then make it that way in your kitchen. Not in mine though."
For 20 plus years, I did not make it. Then, last year (oops. Two years ago), at our New Year's bash, I tried this out. It was the ONLY dish people talked about, so I made it again this year. Now, it shall go on hiatus, as I bring back tiramisu, or cream puffs, or something else of a creamy, custardy nature. It should not disappear from the foundations of your dessert repertoire. It is rather easy to make, makes plenty (unless you are extremely hungry), and is rather inexpensive. Unless.. as you will see.
I am doubling the recipe that Richard taught me, because you really want to double this. You will start with 5 cups of dairy: it can all be milk, and it CAN be 2% milk, but I would not go below that. I like to use 4 cups of whole milk and one cup of heavy cream, mostly because it's convenient. But vary the types of dairy you use, if you like. Just don't go too low on the fat content. It's pudding, remember. You also need about 3/4 cup of sugar. white sugar is traditional, but you could use brown. Keep in mind that brown sugar is no more healthy for you than white. Use it if you like the taste better, but don't kid yourself. This is not a "smart choice" dessert. You also need 2 large eggs, and 2 additional egg youlks. As well, half a cup of cornstarch (if you are going to be making pudding, buy a large jar of cornstarch). Finally, a couple of tablespoons of unsalted butter, a tablespoon of vanilla extract, and six ripe bananas. Six VERY ripe bananas.
Now, we are all used to the big yellow ones. These are Cavendish bananas, and they work fine in this recipe. If, however, you are fortunate enough to live near a store that has tropical produce, look for ripe finger bananas, or ripe red bananas, that turn black when they are red, or any of the other sweet bananas. Do not use plantains, regardless of how ripe they are. They are too starchy for this dish.
The big point where Richard and I had our disagreements, was on the cookies. He felt the cookies that I am about to write about took away from the dish. I don't agree. Wince, and buy a box of nilla vanilla wafers. Do not use your own homemade cookies. They do not have the stabilizers in them, that you need for the dish.
Now that you've collected everything, let's cook. It will not be difficult. In a bowl, mix one cup of dairy, the sugar, the eggs and yolks and the cornstarch. Whisk this to as smooth as you can, but don't be ridiculous about it.
In a big pot, bring the milk just to a boil. Keep an eye on it, and whisk. Milk boils over very easily. When it's just there (bubbles around the edges), take it off the heat, and combine the milk and what's in the bowl. Put one or the other in the other, it don't much matter, but get it back on the heat, lower the heat, and stir. Keep an eye on it. At some point, the mixture will begin to get glossy and thick. You may even begin to get "plops" as it boils up. You're there. Get it off the heat. Stir in the butter and vanilla.
Now, assembly. I like to use a 9x13 inch pan, but a big glass bowl shall work beautifully as well. Pour some of the pudding in, and then slice half of the bananas in. You can lay them out in rows, like I do, or just plop them into the pudding. Then, put some more pudding in, and cover the pudding with the wafers. Repeat this until you use up the bananas and pudding. You probably will not use up the cookies. Then, cover the receptacle with plastic, and refrigerate it. Two hours is the absolute minimum. Overnight is even better.
The cookies will swell up, but not fall apart. They keep their round shape. The banana oils will get into the pudding and flavor it, and since the pudding is still hot, the bananas will 'cook ' a bit and get softer.
My understanding is that many people who grew up other than on the coasts, grew up with this dish and love it. I have heard of chocolate chips, nuts, sprinkles, marshmallows, candied cherries, etc, going into it. As Richard told me "in your kitchen, do what you want." I may, at some point, put some blueberries into mine, but not for now.
This is for all my friends who praised the pudding this year. Say a sweet farewell to it, ragazzi, it will be on hiatus next year.
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