Annalena LOVEs her oysters. She loves them every which what way, but especially raw. Sometimes, however, it is time to try something new, as Annalena did this past week, in a risotto that was inspired by a gift.
As you probably know, Annalena brings lunch to her favorite farmers and vendors at the farmers market on Saturdays. This past Saturday, the patriarch of her fishermen was working and, when he received his lunch, he filled a bag with a dozen oysters and presented them to Annalena.
Now Annalena is well known as the Mother shucker of Greenwich Village; however, these days, her evenings have become very busy and shucking oysters is time consuming . Annalena has gotten it down to about a minute and a half per oyster, which will not put her in the finals of any tournament, but it is what it is. Opening them is not easy to learn, and it takes some care. When you are trying to get dinner on the table at a decent hour, "it takes time" matters. But, one does not look a gift oyster in the mouth. So, Annalena spent some time, thinking about this, and developed a recipe, which is really good. And it follows, with a caveat. A VERY important caveat.
This is not the place to write about how to open oysters: you should go to a restaurant you like, and ask if you can observe. And buy an oyster knife if you decide to do this. Open a dozen of them, and save it all, all the l iquid, the solid, etc.
Now, if any of the oysters seem at all bad, DO NOT KEEP IT AND ERR ON THE CONSERVATIVE SIDE. When Annalena made this, she had an oyster that LOOKEd bad, but smelled good. Annalena's guide to oysters says that smells rule.
Not so here, as she got a wicked case of food poisoning. That does not make the recipe bad, however. So it's here. In any event, you will have about a cup of oysters. Note that it is mostly liquid. Keep that in mind.
Get yourself half a pound of scallops, and cut them into bite sized pieces. Now, your fish is ready, and you can get set to make your risotto.
For this, you need to violate the "golden rule" of at least four cups of broth for each cup of dry rice. That is because you have a cup of liquid in the oysters. You will only need about three. Chop up a shallot, and throw it into a pan with a couple tablespoons of butter. When it softens, add the rice, and cook it until it goes translucent. Have two cups of clam juice combined with a cup of water at the side, at a simmer. If you do not have clam juice, use chicken stock. There are instructions on how to make risotto in this blog, so take a look. Essentially, though, you spoon in liquid, a ladle at a time, and let it cook down. As the liquid evaporates and the rice looks dry, add more. When you've added about 3/4 of the liquid, stir in the scallops, and stir for about a minute. That's all it will take to cook them. Then add the oysters. That liquid will take you to your 4:1 ratio, and when the rice cooks to aldente: you are done. Maybe.
Annalena loves fennel fronds in her risotto, so she added about a quarter cup of them, chopped, to her risotto, and a bit of salt. And there it was. Done and good. With the oyster that gave her food poisoning. Don't let that happen to you.
In closing, Annalena has to get something off of her considerable chest. This blog is for the presentation of recipes which Annalena has cooked, and liked. Not everything she cooks goes on this blog, for various reasons. It is a blog that is intended to perhaps guide you to do the recipes yourself, to cook better , or to try things different, based on this blog.
Some of you think it is the place to be argumentative, and to negotiate about the recipes. Please keep that to yourself. If you do not like the recipe as it is written, THEN DON'T COOK IT. Change it, or don't bother with it at all. But DO NOT give Annalena attitude. It is not appreciated.
Wednesday, June 27, 2012
Monday, June 25, 2012
Relearning: Annalena rethinks her tomato sauce
Ragazzi, to say Italy was a revelation to Annalena is an understatement. She learned so much about food, and how to make hers better. Some of the shifts have been subtle, others not so. In all areas: refinements, and as we will see here, in basics, like tomato sauce : sugo di pomodori.
Annalena feels, correctly, that her tomato sauce is excellent. Let me tell you now, ragazzi, that IF there were a tomato sauce Olympics, Annalena would not have gotten out of the qualifying rounds, and Italians would have swept the medals, and probably the top ten. EVERYWHERE Annalena and the Guyman went, she was astonished at just how good this humble, basic was. And Annalena began to question her own sauce.
Knowing that she could not match Italian tomatoes, regardless of how good the tomatoes were here, or how good the canned ones were, Annalena went to her source for things Italian: Marcella Hazan. Her books are incredible fonts of knowledge, if you know what to do with them. She has a whole, minchapter on tomato sauces. Should you have the book, (Essentials of Italian Cooking), please read that few pages. If you do not have the book, go and get it. And PAY ATTENTION TO IT. What you will learn is that tomato sauce making is not a precise recipe. This is very much by "feel," but the lessons on what to look for, are invaluable. So Annalena made the first of Marcella's recipes last night, tossing aside everything she knew of sauce making.
It was a revelation. As it will be for you. Abbastanza. Let us cook. Now, pay careful heed to this list of ingredients:
A large can (28 ounces or 32) of tomatoes. A stick and a half of butter. A medium onion, cut in half, or two small fresh spring onions treated the same way. Salt.
And Annalena thought her roster of olive oil, tomatoes, herbs, onion , garlic and salt was short.
Now, about those tomatoes. Marcella recommends San Marzano. Yes, absolutely. But Annalena being a local girl herself, likes canned New Jersey tomatoes. You're going to have to break them up, so if you find crushed New Jerseys, or Marzanos, use them. Annalena has gotten over buying the whole ones and breaking them up herself. The quality of the crushed ones or chopped ones has gotten so much better. Put them in a pot, with a stick and a half of unsalted butter, the onion or onions cut in haf, and a teaspoon of salt.
The size of your pot matters, because it will determine how long you need to cook these. Annalena used a three quart pot and hers took 45 minutes. Use the lowest heat on your burner that you can manage, without turning it off. IF by some chance you have a heat disperser (Annalena has recommended getting one before, hasn't she?) Every five minutes or so, take a look at the pot, and also stir it. When you stir the stuff, try to crush the tomatoes a bit too. And watch the transformation as it goes to liquid, and then begins tightening up. (Marcella says "tomato sauce is about evaporation. She's right).
When the stuff is thick, and starting to stick to the bottom of your pot, you're done. Pull out what will now be a skanky, wet, soft couple of onion halfs Taste it. It will , or should, taste saltier than you like. And that's a good thing, because even when you salt pasta water properly, it is never very salty. The bland pasta will diminish the saltiness of the sauce. (Remember that the word 'saltato' means both savory and salty)
Now, for a very important point. This is SO important it isn't funny. You will have, probably, about two big cups of sauce after doing this recipe. How much pasta do you think that should cover?
Three pounds. Yup. Three pounds. Remember always, ragazzi, that sugo is a contorno, an accompaniment, NOT the main thing. So, make a good, thick, flavorful sauce, and use less of it.
Maybe you'll make it to the quarterfinals, or even the semifinals.
Annalena feels, correctly, that her tomato sauce is excellent. Let me tell you now, ragazzi, that IF there were a tomato sauce Olympics, Annalena would not have gotten out of the qualifying rounds, and Italians would have swept the medals, and probably the top ten. EVERYWHERE Annalena and the Guyman went, she was astonished at just how good this humble, basic was. And Annalena began to question her own sauce.
Knowing that she could not match Italian tomatoes, regardless of how good the tomatoes were here, or how good the canned ones were, Annalena went to her source for things Italian: Marcella Hazan. Her books are incredible fonts of knowledge, if you know what to do with them. She has a whole, minchapter on tomato sauces. Should you have the book, (Essentials of Italian Cooking), please read that few pages. If you do not have the book, go and get it. And PAY ATTENTION TO IT. What you will learn is that tomato sauce making is not a precise recipe. This is very much by "feel," but the lessons on what to look for, are invaluable. So Annalena made the first of Marcella's recipes last night, tossing aside everything she knew of sauce making.
It was a revelation. As it will be for you. Abbastanza. Let us cook. Now, pay careful heed to this list of ingredients:
A large can (28 ounces or 32) of tomatoes. A stick and a half of butter. A medium onion, cut in half, or two small fresh spring onions treated the same way. Salt.
And Annalena thought her roster of olive oil, tomatoes, herbs, onion , garlic and salt was short.
Now, about those tomatoes. Marcella recommends San Marzano. Yes, absolutely. But Annalena being a local girl herself, likes canned New Jersey tomatoes. You're going to have to break them up, so if you find crushed New Jerseys, or Marzanos, use them. Annalena has gotten over buying the whole ones and breaking them up herself. The quality of the crushed ones or chopped ones has gotten so much better. Put them in a pot, with a stick and a half of unsalted butter, the onion or onions cut in haf, and a teaspoon of salt.
The size of your pot matters, because it will determine how long you need to cook these. Annalena used a three quart pot and hers took 45 minutes. Use the lowest heat on your burner that you can manage, without turning it off. IF by some chance you have a heat disperser (Annalena has recommended getting one before, hasn't she?) Every five minutes or so, take a look at the pot, and also stir it. When you stir the stuff, try to crush the tomatoes a bit too. And watch the transformation as it goes to liquid, and then begins tightening up. (Marcella says "tomato sauce is about evaporation. She's right).
When the stuff is thick, and starting to stick to the bottom of your pot, you're done. Pull out what will now be a skanky, wet, soft couple of onion halfs Taste it. It will , or should, taste saltier than you like. And that's a good thing, because even when you salt pasta water properly, it is never very salty. The bland pasta will diminish the saltiness of the sauce. (Remember that the word 'saltato' means both savory and salty)
Now, for a very important point. This is SO important it isn't funny. You will have, probably, about two big cups of sauce after doing this recipe. How much pasta do you think that should cover?
Three pounds. Yup. Three pounds. Remember always, ragazzi, that sugo is a contorno, an accompaniment, NOT the main thing. So, make a good, thick, flavorful sauce, and use less of it.
Maybe you'll make it to the quarterfinals, or even the semifinals.
Friday, June 15, 2012
When the wrong one is the right one: long cooked chicken cutlets with fontina
"When the wrong one is the right one." Now, did you think that Annalena was going to talk to you about her past love life? Ah no. With the exception of the Guyman, that would be "when the wrong one is WRONGER THAN YOU THINK" Oh, the stories, and that would be another blog, and yet more material for you all to assimilate. No, ragazzi, today Annalena writes of "the dish that got away," and the one that was better.
One of the "go to" dishes in Annalena's repertoire, is something called "veal (or chicken) Val d'Aostana." Named after the region of Italy which is in the alps and where the language is French rather than Italian, it involves breaded, fried cutlets, with slices of prosciutto and fontina, run under the broiler until the cheese melts.
A diet dish, yes? Well, for reasons that are simple, yet complex, Annalena decided to make a variation on this last week. See, she needed a dish that would both serve the Guyman and herself easily after Thursday night running (the Guyman), and torment of the music teacher (Annalena providing the torment, Tim providing the teaching), as well as feed the farmers on Saturday. Her thoughts on this were, to buy chicken cutlets in bulk, prepare them as if for Val d'Aostana, and to layer them with tomato sauce, green leafy vegetables, and fontina cheese. And then, to bake, until a nice, cheesy, gooey mess resulted. And that was the plan.
BUT.... see, the cheesy gooey mess resulted after a half an hour of baking and Annalena thought she turned off the oven and allowed the dish to cool.
About a half hour later, smelling something deliciously caramelly and tomatoey, Annalena remarked "did I forget to turn off the oven?" Indeed, she had. So the dish baked for an hour. Instead of the creamy, almost pizza like topping, Annalena had a dark, mysterious layer on top, with a deeply carmelized smell. But nothing looked burned.
Nothing ventured, nothing gained. Upon tasting, the dish, to Annalena's opinion, was better than she expected. The chicken was tremendously tender, and while she could not taste the individual components, she did in fact taste a wonderfully complex mixture of flavors, that would have made her eat more, and more, and more of the dish. But... she had worked out that day, with a substitute trainer, and was feeling the impact thereof (as she still is). So, she restrained herself after 3 cutlets (Laugh if you will. She defies you to do better). Here it comes. It is a bit time consuming, but not really hard. And while she provides the proportions for four pounds of cutlets, cut it back if you like.
Let us start with the cutlets. They should be about 4 ounces each. Annalena's package contained 8, which means they were twice as big as they should have been. Should this happen to you, cut the biggers in half, with a vertical cut, and then get a heavy surface, and pound them thin. Then, dip them into seasoned flour (plain flour with a nice teaspoon of salt in it), then some beaten eggs, and then into seasoned breadcrumbs. Replenish these supplies as you need to. Breaded cutlets can remain on a cooking sheet until you're ready to fry.
When you are, used vegetable oil. Spread out some paper towels to adsorb excess oil, and then add them to the pan, when the oil is hot. Do not overcrowd them. Cook them until they are browned to your liking, and then let them drain (you need not worry about undercooking: you're going to bake them for an hour, remember?).
Now, start your oven to preheating, and use a temperature of 350. Put a layer of tomato sauce down in a baking sheet. You want it to be of a size that you will have no more than two layers of cutlets in it.
After the tomato sauce, then add a layer of cutlets. After that, some steamed, chopped, leafy greens. Annalena used Tuscan kale and beet greens, but this is one where you should use what you have. Slice some fontina cheese over the greens. For the four pounds of cutlets, Annalena used a full pound. If you do not have fontina, you could use mozzarella. Repeat this, and finish with a layer of cheese.
Now, into the oven, for an hour. Unless you want the traditional sort of "parmagiana" look, then take it out after half an hour . Let it rest. In fact, if you can, make this the night before, and warm it up before serving, with a simply cooked green vegetable (Annalena and the Guyman used sugar snap peas).
You need no starch with this meal, given the breadcrumbs.
This is "home cooking" at its best, and the mistake turned into a success. Make it your success this week, ragazzi, and enjoy it.
Alla prossima.
One of the "go to" dishes in Annalena's repertoire, is something called "veal (or chicken) Val d'Aostana." Named after the region of Italy which is in the alps and where the language is French rather than Italian, it involves breaded, fried cutlets, with slices of prosciutto and fontina, run under the broiler until the cheese melts.
A diet dish, yes? Well, for reasons that are simple, yet complex, Annalena decided to make a variation on this last week. See, she needed a dish that would both serve the Guyman and herself easily after Thursday night running (the Guyman), and torment of the music teacher (Annalena providing the torment, Tim providing the teaching), as well as feed the farmers on Saturday. Her thoughts on this were, to buy chicken cutlets in bulk, prepare them as if for Val d'Aostana, and to layer them with tomato sauce, green leafy vegetables, and fontina cheese. And then, to bake, until a nice, cheesy, gooey mess resulted. And that was the plan.
BUT.... see, the cheesy gooey mess resulted after a half an hour of baking and Annalena thought she turned off the oven and allowed the dish to cool.
About a half hour later, smelling something deliciously caramelly and tomatoey, Annalena remarked "did I forget to turn off the oven?" Indeed, she had. So the dish baked for an hour. Instead of the creamy, almost pizza like topping, Annalena had a dark, mysterious layer on top, with a deeply carmelized smell. But nothing looked burned.
Nothing ventured, nothing gained. Upon tasting, the dish, to Annalena's opinion, was better than she expected. The chicken was tremendously tender, and while she could not taste the individual components, she did in fact taste a wonderfully complex mixture of flavors, that would have made her eat more, and more, and more of the dish. But... she had worked out that day, with a substitute trainer, and was feeling the impact thereof (as she still is). So, she restrained herself after 3 cutlets (Laugh if you will. She defies you to do better). Here it comes. It is a bit time consuming, but not really hard. And while she provides the proportions for four pounds of cutlets, cut it back if you like.
Let us start with the cutlets. They should be about 4 ounces each. Annalena's package contained 8, which means they were twice as big as they should have been. Should this happen to you, cut the biggers in half, with a vertical cut, and then get a heavy surface, and pound them thin. Then, dip them into seasoned flour (plain flour with a nice teaspoon of salt in it), then some beaten eggs, and then into seasoned breadcrumbs. Replenish these supplies as you need to. Breaded cutlets can remain on a cooking sheet until you're ready to fry.
When you are, used vegetable oil. Spread out some paper towels to adsorb excess oil, and then add them to the pan, when the oil is hot. Do not overcrowd them. Cook them until they are browned to your liking, and then let them drain (you need not worry about undercooking: you're going to bake them for an hour, remember?).
Now, start your oven to preheating, and use a temperature of 350. Put a layer of tomato sauce down in a baking sheet. You want it to be of a size that you will have no more than two layers of cutlets in it.
After the tomato sauce, then add a layer of cutlets. After that, some steamed, chopped, leafy greens. Annalena used Tuscan kale and beet greens, but this is one where you should use what you have. Slice some fontina cheese over the greens. For the four pounds of cutlets, Annalena used a full pound. If you do not have fontina, you could use mozzarella. Repeat this, and finish with a layer of cheese.
Now, into the oven, for an hour. Unless you want the traditional sort of "parmagiana" look, then take it out after half an hour . Let it rest. In fact, if you can, make this the night before, and warm it up before serving, with a simply cooked green vegetable (Annalena and the Guyman used sugar snap peas).
You need no starch with this meal, given the breadcrumbs.
This is "home cooking" at its best, and the mistake turned into a success. Make it your success this week, ragazzi, and enjoy it.
Alla prossima.
Thursday, June 14, 2012
50 ways to love your liver (actually just one) Tuscan chicken liver crostini
Ragazzi, Ananlena is sure that at least some of you remember Paul Simon's song "50 ways to leave your lover." Well, the title, and the structure of the song, left it open to innumerable parodies, one of which was "50 ways to love your liver." Indeed, most of us, Annalena included, need to have more ways to love liver - not necessarily our own of course, but it is a rare person who admits to liking to eat liver. Annalena confesses to being amongst the guilty, unless of course the liver in question is foie gras, which almost seems to not be liver, but more like duck or goose butter. As a ragazzo, Annalena was forced to eat liver once or twice a month. It was NOT a good thing. Indeed, this may very well be where she developed her lifelong love of onions and bacon, for when Nana served liver (inevitably calves and, unfortunately, inevitably not cooked well), she would serve it with onions and bacon. When Annalena would hand in her clean plate, Nana did not realize at first that the liver was going into the dog, Bubbles, bowl (Bubbles, or any of Annalena's other canine friends, had no problem with liver). Henceforth, Annalena would be served liver without the accompaniments, and only get them after her plate, containing only liver, was returned.
So, when preparing for Italy, Annalena did in fact consider that liver is a favorite of Italians, in many ways. It is in fact a staple of Venetian cooking (fegato alla Venezia is calves' liver in a sweet and sour sauce, with onions agrodolce), she sighed and wondered what she would do. Her "compromise," if you could call it that, was to agree and to try to eat chicken liver, but to put her not insubstantial food down at that. It was, perhaps, Annalena's parallel to the Guyman's pledge to "step out of his comfort zone," which he did admirably, in Italy). Fegato di pollo? Si. Fegato di bue? No. And there we stand.
Well, it was a good thing, for having eaten the staple of Tuscan food, involving chicken liver, and having many names, Annalena was enchanted. In fact, she has made it a point to eat it several times since returning home. And she is going to present a version to you here, ragazzi. If you are adamantly opposed to liver, well "pass me by," as the song goes. If, however, you are willing to give the thing a try, this is how to go. There is no hiding the fact that it is liver, but it is much milder than you may think (if you buy good materials), and there are ways, which Annalena will elaborate, on how to "mask" the strong, almost metallic flavor, a bit.
COMINCIAMO. You start with one pound of chicken livers. Now, yet another comment here. Annalena remembers, not that long ago, when chicken liver was about 1.50 a pound. Perhaps as a measure of how quality has improved (she would like to think), the free range chicken livers Annalena bought cost 10.00 a pound. So, be prepared, ragazzi, if you are looking for the good stuff. You will also need about half an onion, chopped, and an equal amount of chopped parsley. Also, two cloves of garlic, chopped. Have also some olive oil on hand. A couple of salted anchovies, or anchovies under oil (but NOT the stuff in cans, and NOT sardines), which you will chop up (Annalena assures you that you will not taste fish in this preparation. The anchovies are there for "backbone."). Have a sweet wine available . Vin santo if you are going truly Tuscan, or sherry if that's what you have or, as Annalena had, a sweet California dessert wine. About a third of a cup, please. You will also need those wonderful flower buds from Sicily, capers. Two tablespoons of them. Put them under water, and let them soak, while you prepare the rest of the ingredients. When you are ready to use them as elaborated below, drain them and chop them.
Now, let us cook. First, the only difficult part. Chicken liver can be, well, gross. You will find fat bits, perhaps bits of veins and even bile tissue (it is green). Get your scissor, bite the bullet and cut it away and get it out of your sight. Wash your hands, dry them, and proceed.
Put a couple of tablespoons of olive oil in a pan, and add the parsley, the onion and the garlic. Keep the heat low, and when the veggies soften, add the chopped anchovies. Stir, and in a few seconds, you won't see them anymore. Now, add the livers, and turn up the heat a bit. Don't stir for a few minutes, as they brown. Then turn them, and keep turning them, perhaps every minute or so. While you are doing this, press on them with a fork, gently, to break them up as much as you can. Eventually, this is going to be a paste or puree. When the livers have cooked to the point where, there is a bit of rose color in their center, but they are otherwise brown, move your face away, and add the sweet wine. Stir, and keep on mashing. When the liquid has evaporated, add a bit of lemon peel, and taste for salt and pepper and adjust.
Now, you may do a couple of things. Turn off the heat, and if you feel like being truly old fashioned and feel strong, continue to mash them until you have something of a desired consistency. Or, you may pull out your food mill, put a coarse filter in it, and get to work. Or, go modern and pulse it in the food processor, which is what Annalena did. If you like this a little looser, then you can add some olive oil, or some sweet wine . If you are concerned about the taste (which mellows on standing, by the way), some cream is not unacceptable.
But now, you have it. You serve this on toasted bread, preferably the saltless bread of Tuscany (which is really quite good when you have it well made, or with something as savory and strong as this). If you are still rather uncertain about the strong flavor, fall back on your traditional pairings with liver: some bacon on top, or pancetta, or some onion jam, or even both. Some put crumbled hard boiled egg yolk on them, but Annalena steadfastedly refuses to each such things.
Now, as to the many names. You all know "crostini," yes? Of course you do. Well, Annalena learned that, in Tuscany, the word for crostini, is "fettunte," except when it's not
See, some Tuscans say that it is a crostino, when there's no olive oil on the bread, and fettunta when there is. Others only use fettunta, but Annalena feels that the usage is dying out. And sticking just with crostini, for a minute, they are called "crostini di fegato di pollo," or, in the way Italians have, of taking a long term and shortening it and making it figurative "crostini neri," or black crostini.
Do not ask Annalena why, she knows not.
Again, every time she has had these, the texture has been different: smooth and velvety and almost liquid, in a trattoria where Annalena ate the finest bowl of tripe of her life; sturdy and stiff, and good, in a fancy Florentine restaurant, and in between, at a hotel function, in Venice. Choose your texture.
Please try these. To step away from Italy for a minute and switch to Mexican, the wonderful, albeit idiosyncratic chef Diana Kennedy once said "you have to try everything once. Even if you spit it out you have to put it in your mouth once." Keep this in mind, for cooking and.... other things.
No more ideas on the horizon, ragazzi, but you know Annalena. The minute she has something that strikes her fancy that she wishes to share with her carissimi, you will hear of it. It may be tomorrow, it may be next week, but Annalena shall be back.
So, when preparing for Italy, Annalena did in fact consider that liver is a favorite of Italians, in many ways. It is in fact a staple of Venetian cooking (fegato alla Venezia is calves' liver in a sweet and sour sauce, with onions agrodolce), she sighed and wondered what she would do. Her "compromise," if you could call it that, was to agree and to try to eat chicken liver, but to put her not insubstantial food down at that. It was, perhaps, Annalena's parallel to the Guyman's pledge to "step out of his comfort zone," which he did admirably, in Italy). Fegato di pollo? Si. Fegato di bue? No. And there we stand.
Well, it was a good thing, for having eaten the staple of Tuscan food, involving chicken liver, and having many names, Annalena was enchanted. In fact, she has made it a point to eat it several times since returning home. And she is going to present a version to you here, ragazzi. If you are adamantly opposed to liver, well "pass me by," as the song goes. If, however, you are willing to give the thing a try, this is how to go. There is no hiding the fact that it is liver, but it is much milder than you may think (if you buy good materials), and there are ways, which Annalena will elaborate, on how to "mask" the strong, almost metallic flavor, a bit.
COMINCIAMO. You start with one pound of chicken livers. Now, yet another comment here. Annalena remembers, not that long ago, when chicken liver was about 1.50 a pound. Perhaps as a measure of how quality has improved (she would like to think), the free range chicken livers Annalena bought cost 10.00 a pound. So, be prepared, ragazzi, if you are looking for the good stuff. You will also need about half an onion, chopped, and an equal amount of chopped parsley. Also, two cloves of garlic, chopped. Have also some olive oil on hand. A couple of salted anchovies, or anchovies under oil (but NOT the stuff in cans, and NOT sardines), which you will chop up (Annalena assures you that you will not taste fish in this preparation. The anchovies are there for "backbone."). Have a sweet wine available . Vin santo if you are going truly Tuscan, or sherry if that's what you have or, as Annalena had, a sweet California dessert wine. About a third of a cup, please. You will also need those wonderful flower buds from Sicily, capers. Two tablespoons of them. Put them under water, and let them soak, while you prepare the rest of the ingredients. When you are ready to use them as elaborated below, drain them and chop them.
Now, let us cook. First, the only difficult part. Chicken liver can be, well, gross. You will find fat bits, perhaps bits of veins and even bile tissue (it is green). Get your scissor, bite the bullet and cut it away and get it out of your sight. Wash your hands, dry them, and proceed.
Put a couple of tablespoons of olive oil in a pan, and add the parsley, the onion and the garlic. Keep the heat low, and when the veggies soften, add the chopped anchovies. Stir, and in a few seconds, you won't see them anymore. Now, add the livers, and turn up the heat a bit. Don't stir for a few minutes, as they brown. Then turn them, and keep turning them, perhaps every minute or so. While you are doing this, press on them with a fork, gently, to break them up as much as you can. Eventually, this is going to be a paste or puree. When the livers have cooked to the point where, there is a bit of rose color in their center, but they are otherwise brown, move your face away, and add the sweet wine. Stir, and keep on mashing. When the liquid has evaporated, add a bit of lemon peel, and taste for salt and pepper and adjust.
Now, you may do a couple of things. Turn off the heat, and if you feel like being truly old fashioned and feel strong, continue to mash them until you have something of a desired consistency. Or, you may pull out your food mill, put a coarse filter in it, and get to work. Or, go modern and pulse it in the food processor, which is what Annalena did. If you like this a little looser, then you can add some olive oil, or some sweet wine . If you are concerned about the taste (which mellows on standing, by the way), some cream is not unacceptable.
But now, you have it. You serve this on toasted bread, preferably the saltless bread of Tuscany (which is really quite good when you have it well made, or with something as savory and strong as this). If you are still rather uncertain about the strong flavor, fall back on your traditional pairings with liver: some bacon on top, or pancetta, or some onion jam, or even both. Some put crumbled hard boiled egg yolk on them, but Annalena steadfastedly refuses to each such things.
Now, as to the many names. You all know "crostini," yes? Of course you do. Well, Annalena learned that, in Tuscany, the word for crostini, is "fettunte," except when it's not
See, some Tuscans say that it is a crostino, when there's no olive oil on the bread, and fettunta when there is. Others only use fettunta, but Annalena feels that the usage is dying out. And sticking just with crostini, for a minute, they are called "crostini di fegato di pollo," or, in the way Italians have, of taking a long term and shortening it and making it figurative "crostini neri," or black crostini.
Do not ask Annalena why, she knows not.
Again, every time she has had these, the texture has been different: smooth and velvety and almost liquid, in a trattoria where Annalena ate the finest bowl of tripe of her life; sturdy and stiff, and good, in a fancy Florentine restaurant, and in between, at a hotel function, in Venice. Choose your texture.
Please try these. To step away from Italy for a minute and switch to Mexican, the wonderful, albeit idiosyncratic chef Diana Kennedy once said "you have to try everything once. Even if you spit it out you have to put it in your mouth once." Keep this in mind, for cooking and.... other things.
No more ideas on the horizon, ragazzi, but you know Annalena. The minute she has something that strikes her fancy that she wishes to share with her carissimi, you will hear of it. It may be tomorrow, it may be next week, but Annalena shall be back.
Sunday, June 10, 2012
Savoring the simple: pureed asparagus soup
Let's take a bit of a break from the complexities of Italian cooking and ice cream making, shall we? And let's explore one of those "enjoy them now, because they won't be here forever," vegetables, the asparagus.
When Annalena was a wee child, she would not eat asparagus. Perhaps, indeed probably, the reason was that asparagus in her home was by and large, the canned varieity. Yes, that would sour most of us on them wouldn't it? However, it is interesting that the three vegetables Annalena recoiled from, were asparagus, artichokes, and eggplant. And Nana, in her wisdom, pointed at Annalena and said ASPETTA (wait). "One day, these will be your favorite vegetables." It is close to the truth. And in season, Annalena can never really get enough of the asparagus, or the eggplants. Artichokes never really come "into season" in NYC, as the climate simply is not right. One does what one can. It is high asparagus season now, and Annalena and the Guyman eat them twice, or even three times a week.
Usually, they are simply steamed, perhaps with a bit of butter on them, but usually just lemon juice. We also have the wonderful asparagus salad that you will find on this blog, usually with a nut oil dressing and crushed hazelnuts atop it. And here is one that you should have because, well, it is so easy, and it is so good. It comes from the pen of Mark Bittman, and Annalena will tell you how she accesorized it, and leaves you to do so as well.
This recipe makes tons of soup: ten cups or so. Cut it in half if you need or want less. And when you go through it, think about the calories - or the lack of them. For those of you who are watching weight (and who amongst us is not?), this is a wonderful little thing to have around. And it is fast. If you look up the nutrition values for asparagus, it is good for you too.
Ok, to make the ton of soup, you need 3 pounds of asparagus. Usually, this is about three farmers market bunches, but if you have too many, is that really a problem? Go through them, and if you have some with tough stems on the tail end (this will be the case with any which are more than about 1/3 of an inch in thickness), peel them with a vegetable peeler, just to get the tough part off. If you are quick with a peeler, 3 pounds will get done in less than ten minutes. Break them into pieces (no need for surgical precision), and then peel about a half pound worth of potatoes, and cube those. Put them in the pot as well, with a nice teaspoon of salt, and then ten cups of stock. Annalena used 4 cups of chicken, and six cups of water. Do not use beef: it is too strong. Use vegetable, or all water, if you are going vegan, or use all chicken. Annalena did the dilution, because she wanted the asparagus flavor to come through.
Now, turn up the heat. When the pot comes to the boil, lower it to a simmer, and let it go for fifteen minutes. Now, turn off the pot, get out your blender, and when the soup cools down, ladle it in and just puree.
And you're done. Maybe. Annalena was serving this to her farmers market friends, and she had leftover roast chicken (again, from the calorie standpoint, go and check the recipes for roasted chicken on this blog. It won't kill you). Shredded, this made a more than ample soup.
BUT.... there was also a package of bacon giving Annalena the stink eye. She fried up a half pound, crumbled it, and the soup was no longer in the low calorie department, but it was still good for you. Leave it out, or leave out the chicken if you like. Mr. Bittman suggests lemon and olive oil for his garnish. Have at it, or use dill, or use whatever you like with asparagus (remember those chopped nuts? And Annalena is thinking a chopped golden beet or two...).
When you take this soup out of the blender, the potato gives it a texture which will make you think that this is cream based. But of course, it is not. And Annalena suggests not adding any dairy, because it would dilute what is a delicate flavor to begin with. But only you need to know that, when you serve it, cold or hot, to your loved ones.
Try it. Annalena believes you will be a convert.
We shall return to the intricacies of Italian cuisine next time around, as we make crostini neri, or fettunte nere, or crostini di fegato di pollo, or chicken liver crostini.
When Annalena was a wee child, she would not eat asparagus. Perhaps, indeed probably, the reason was that asparagus in her home was by and large, the canned varieity. Yes, that would sour most of us on them wouldn't it? However, it is interesting that the three vegetables Annalena recoiled from, were asparagus, artichokes, and eggplant. And Nana, in her wisdom, pointed at Annalena and said ASPETTA (wait). "One day, these will be your favorite vegetables." It is close to the truth. And in season, Annalena can never really get enough of the asparagus, or the eggplants. Artichokes never really come "into season" in NYC, as the climate simply is not right. One does what one can. It is high asparagus season now, and Annalena and the Guyman eat them twice, or even three times a week.
Usually, they are simply steamed, perhaps with a bit of butter on them, but usually just lemon juice. We also have the wonderful asparagus salad that you will find on this blog, usually with a nut oil dressing and crushed hazelnuts atop it. And here is one that you should have because, well, it is so easy, and it is so good. It comes from the pen of Mark Bittman, and Annalena will tell you how she accesorized it, and leaves you to do so as well.
This recipe makes tons of soup: ten cups or so. Cut it in half if you need or want less. And when you go through it, think about the calories - or the lack of them. For those of you who are watching weight (and who amongst us is not?), this is a wonderful little thing to have around. And it is fast. If you look up the nutrition values for asparagus, it is good for you too.
Ok, to make the ton of soup, you need 3 pounds of asparagus. Usually, this is about three farmers market bunches, but if you have too many, is that really a problem? Go through them, and if you have some with tough stems on the tail end (this will be the case with any which are more than about 1/3 of an inch in thickness), peel them with a vegetable peeler, just to get the tough part off. If you are quick with a peeler, 3 pounds will get done in less than ten minutes. Break them into pieces (no need for surgical precision), and then peel about a half pound worth of potatoes, and cube those. Put them in the pot as well, with a nice teaspoon of salt, and then ten cups of stock. Annalena used 4 cups of chicken, and six cups of water. Do not use beef: it is too strong. Use vegetable, or all water, if you are going vegan, or use all chicken. Annalena did the dilution, because she wanted the asparagus flavor to come through.
Now, turn up the heat. When the pot comes to the boil, lower it to a simmer, and let it go for fifteen minutes. Now, turn off the pot, get out your blender, and when the soup cools down, ladle it in and just puree.
And you're done. Maybe. Annalena was serving this to her farmers market friends, and she had leftover roast chicken (again, from the calorie standpoint, go and check the recipes for roasted chicken on this blog. It won't kill you). Shredded, this made a more than ample soup.
BUT.... there was also a package of bacon giving Annalena the stink eye. She fried up a half pound, crumbled it, and the soup was no longer in the low calorie department, but it was still good for you. Leave it out, or leave out the chicken if you like. Mr. Bittman suggests lemon and olive oil for his garnish. Have at it, or use dill, or use whatever you like with asparagus (remember those chopped nuts? And Annalena is thinking a chopped golden beet or two...).
When you take this soup out of the blender, the potato gives it a texture which will make you think that this is cream based. But of course, it is not. And Annalena suggests not adding any dairy, because it would dilute what is a delicate flavor to begin with. But only you need to know that, when you serve it, cold or hot, to your loved ones.
Try it. Annalena believes you will be a convert.
We shall return to the intricacies of Italian cuisine next time around, as we make crostini neri, or fettunte nere, or crostini di fegato di pollo, or chicken liver crostini.
Saturday, June 9, 2012
Not what you expect: rhubarb caramel ice cream
Ragazzi, Annalena understands that many of you do not have ice cream makers; however, she does not understand WHY you do not have them. You know you love ice cream. And you know you can never find your favorite flavor. And you KNOW that even if you do find a favorite flavor "I can make this better," or "this would be better with..." Well, why not start acting on your thoughts? Ice cream making is not that hard. In fact, Annalena thinks that cookie making is harder. And once you get the hang of it, you COULD make ice cream every day. And, NO, you will not pig out and become 800 pounds. Yes, there is the initial love affair with the machine, but then, you settle down and make it, say, on the weekends, or once a month, or however. But it will equalize. Trust Annalena on this.
Today's ice cream recipe is an interesting one, because of the combination: rhubarb, and caramel. The result, all who tasted it agree, is not at all of rhubarb, or of caramel. In fact, one would say it was more like a sour cherry ice cream, with a strong vanilla base. Nothing wrong with that, is there?
The recipe is also an object lesson in why people think they cannot cook. The recipe has a good idea. It is also unworkable. If you were to make this as it is set up, you would fail. Indeed, Annalena herself looked through it, and had her doubts at several steps, and since she is experienced in the kitchen, knew when to veer from the recipe and do what she knew was best. And the result is a terrific ice cream. She will give you her recipe, explaining how it veers from that of the New York Times.
You start, with 1.5 cups of whole milk, 4 large egg yolks, 1.5 cups of sour cream, and half a cup of heavy cream. Sour cream in an ice cream is a bit unusual, but it works here. The stronger flavor of the sour cream balances the strong acid notes from the rhubarb. It makes the ice cream ridiculously tasty. We're going to put those ingredients aside, though, while we make the other components.
You need about 3/4 pounds of rhubarb, and if you're going to work with that odd quantity, buy a pound. If you can get it fresh, then chop it into small cubes. As small as you can. If you buy it frozen, then as soon as you can do so without hurting your hand , do the same to the frozen stuff. Do not wait until it thaws.
Put the rhubarb into a pot, with a cup of sugar. Bring it to low heat, and cook until the juices begin to run. With frozen rhubarb, this might happen in a minute or two. Contrary to the recipe, 4-5 minutes is far too little time for the fresh stuff to do this. It is more like 10 minutes. Stick the rhubarb with a fork, every now and then, to see if it's nice and tender. You want something which, if you were to press it (cool), against the top of your mouth, it would dissolve, but to still have its shape.
When you get there, move the rhubarb to a bowl. Increase the heat, and reduce the juices in your pot, until you have only about 2-3 tablespoons. The recipe says this takes 5-10 minutes. If you do that, you will have no syrup, and a burnt pan. Three minutes, max. Pour that syrup over the rhubarb and leave it be.
Now, you can of course make your caramel, but caramel making is tricky, and you can get burned, very badly (trust Annalena on this). You can buy excellent quality dulce de leche, and also milk caramel (Annalena likes American Spoon). Get a jar. You'll want about a cup of it. Use the rest on fruit, or to make sandwich cookies, or on your peanut butter sandwich.
This is going to make your life so much easier. Believe Annalena here. Now, you'll make your custard. You will do that by bringing milk, another 3/4 cup of sugar, and the seeds and pod of a split vanilla bean together with the egg yolks, in a separate, heavy pot. Over low heat, and stirring all the while (with a whisk, if you have one), cook the custard until it thickens. Keep an eye on it: the custard is done when you see it take on a glassy shiny look, and the whisk has to work just a bit harder. Now stir in the sour cream, and put this aside.
You have all the components of your ice cream ready. You need to get them cool, so put the rhubarb compote (which you can also use "as is" as a topping on custard, or cookies, or anything) and the custard, into the fridge for at least a few hours. When you're ready to make your ice cream, churn the custard for about 10-15 minutes, until it begins to firm up. Then, pour in the caramel. Annalena diverges from the recipe here, as she will explain below. When the ice cream looks just about ready, pour in the rhubarb with its juices.
Now, what the recipe as originally written does NOT tell you, is that this will immediately break the custard, and you will have to churn longer. But that's fine. Putting it in sooner will only produce little frozen bits of rhubarb that will hurt your teeth.
When it all looks ready, you can (and you should), do the following: if you don't have another use for the caramel, pour a little on the bottom of your container. Then add ice cream. And keep alternating (This is what the recipe originally called for, and it did not call for adding caramel directly to the custard). When your container or containers are full... you are done.
This is something new, to use a favorite ingredient, which Annalena, and many of us, love, but of which we have a very limited number of recipes. Try something new. You will be amazed at the taste of this wonderful dish. And put some rhubarb in your freezer now. It's almost gone, and you will make this in the winter and smile. Yes, you will
Today's ice cream recipe is an interesting one, because of the combination: rhubarb, and caramel. The result, all who tasted it agree, is not at all of rhubarb, or of caramel. In fact, one would say it was more like a sour cherry ice cream, with a strong vanilla base. Nothing wrong with that, is there?
The recipe is also an object lesson in why people think they cannot cook. The recipe has a good idea. It is also unworkable. If you were to make this as it is set up, you would fail. Indeed, Annalena herself looked through it, and had her doubts at several steps, and since she is experienced in the kitchen, knew when to veer from the recipe and do what she knew was best. And the result is a terrific ice cream. She will give you her recipe, explaining how it veers from that of the New York Times.
You start, with 1.5 cups of whole milk, 4 large egg yolks, 1.5 cups of sour cream, and half a cup of heavy cream. Sour cream in an ice cream is a bit unusual, but it works here. The stronger flavor of the sour cream balances the strong acid notes from the rhubarb. It makes the ice cream ridiculously tasty. We're going to put those ingredients aside, though, while we make the other components.
You need about 3/4 pounds of rhubarb, and if you're going to work with that odd quantity, buy a pound. If you can get it fresh, then chop it into small cubes. As small as you can. If you buy it frozen, then as soon as you can do so without hurting your hand , do the same to the frozen stuff. Do not wait until it thaws.
Put the rhubarb into a pot, with a cup of sugar. Bring it to low heat, and cook until the juices begin to run. With frozen rhubarb, this might happen in a minute or two. Contrary to the recipe, 4-5 minutes is far too little time for the fresh stuff to do this. It is more like 10 minutes. Stick the rhubarb with a fork, every now and then, to see if it's nice and tender. You want something which, if you were to press it (cool), against the top of your mouth, it would dissolve, but to still have its shape.
When you get there, move the rhubarb to a bowl. Increase the heat, and reduce the juices in your pot, until you have only about 2-3 tablespoons. The recipe says this takes 5-10 minutes. If you do that, you will have no syrup, and a burnt pan. Three minutes, max. Pour that syrup over the rhubarb and leave it be.
Now, you can of course make your caramel, but caramel making is tricky, and you can get burned, very badly (trust Annalena on this). You can buy excellent quality dulce de leche, and also milk caramel (Annalena likes American Spoon). Get a jar. You'll want about a cup of it. Use the rest on fruit, or to make sandwich cookies, or on your peanut butter sandwich.
This is going to make your life so much easier. Believe Annalena here. Now, you'll make your custard. You will do that by bringing milk, another 3/4 cup of sugar, and the seeds and pod of a split vanilla bean together with the egg yolks, in a separate, heavy pot. Over low heat, and stirring all the while (with a whisk, if you have one), cook the custard until it thickens. Keep an eye on it: the custard is done when you see it take on a glassy shiny look, and the whisk has to work just a bit harder. Now stir in the sour cream, and put this aside.
You have all the components of your ice cream ready. You need to get them cool, so put the rhubarb compote (which you can also use "as is" as a topping on custard, or cookies, or anything) and the custard, into the fridge for at least a few hours. When you're ready to make your ice cream, churn the custard for about 10-15 minutes, until it begins to firm up. Then, pour in the caramel. Annalena diverges from the recipe here, as she will explain below. When the ice cream looks just about ready, pour in the rhubarb with its juices.
Now, what the recipe as originally written does NOT tell you, is that this will immediately break the custard, and you will have to churn longer. But that's fine. Putting it in sooner will only produce little frozen bits of rhubarb that will hurt your teeth.
When it all looks ready, you can (and you should), do the following: if you don't have another use for the caramel, pour a little on the bottom of your container. Then add ice cream. And keep alternating (This is what the recipe originally called for, and it did not call for adding caramel directly to the custard). When your container or containers are full... you are done.
This is something new, to use a favorite ingredient, which Annalena, and many of us, love, but of which we have a very limited number of recipes. Try something new. You will be amazed at the taste of this wonderful dish. And put some rhubarb in your freezer now. It's almost gone, and you will make this in the winter and smile. Yes, you will
Friday, June 8, 2012
Breaking up is not so hard to do: spezzatino
RAGAZZI, she has returned!!!! Yes, Annalena has made her triumphant return negli stati uniti, after two weeks in Italy. What can she say, bambini, other than, GO! NOW! Seriously, Annalena has been kicking herself (she is flexible you know), every single day for having waited so long to do this. Oh, what a time was had by both she and the Guyman, who took in excess of 2000 photos. Kudo to our tour leader, the lovely, gracious and talented Florence, who made what was wonderful even moreso. There is so much that Annalena learned, so much that was confirmed, challenged, and so on. Oh, she is gushing, yes she is. Abbastanza. We must return to cooking for, to paraphrase "Uncle Vanya": "We must eat Uncle Vanya, we must eat."
There were so many dishes that we ate in Italy, that one is hard pressed to pick a favorite. Annalena shall not soon forget the pizzas. The "simple" tomato sauces. The lemon sorbet, made with Sorrento lemons that was transcendent. Oxtails in Rome. Spider crab in Venice. Trippa in Florence. Piccione in Umbria. Squid so tiny that she fit three of them on her fingernail. Anchovies so fresh that she could eat four plates herself.
The single dish we ate more than once, was spezzatino, and that was a matter of chance. Sitting in a Roman trattoria, the Guyman ordered it. The next day, at a planned lunch it was served again. Like Patty Duke and Cathy Lane "as different as night and day."
And of course, as the faithful readers know, when two dishes bear the same name, but turn out differently, Annalena is intrigued. And that started a bit of research which culminated in the dish presented here.
"Spezzatino" is, essentially , a stew. And its name comes from "spezzare," which is to break up, in the sense of something crumbling or dissolving, and so forth, because that is what is supposed to happen in the cooking of the dish: chunks of meat are supposed to dissolve into the liquids. So, too, with the vegetables.
But what is "spezzatino?" Well, as Annalena learned, it is not so much a dish, as a technique, like guazetto, or even cassoulet. In doing her research, Annalena found scores of recipes, and isolated the commonalities: chunks of a tougher cut of meat. Onions. Tomato puree. Vegetables. And that was all that was common.
When in Italy, the Guyman and Ananlena had it both times, with veal. And here is a bit of information for you all, ragazzi. As Annalena has said before, if you can be sure that your provider is treating the animals humanely, please do not refrain from veal. Let us look at the numbers: half of all calves are male. One needs one male calf to raise to steerhood, for every twenty females. What, pray tell, do you think happens to the other nineteen? For one answer, please check the catfood section of your supermarket. This recipe calls for veal, but as Annalena learned, one may use beef , pork , or lamb in its stead. Indeed, as we go through this recipe, Annalena will tell you where you may change things, or leave them out, etc.
COMINCIAMO! Get yourself three pounds of cubes of shoulder meat, of some kind. Now, inspect it. Sometimes, the cubes are small enough, that they are in fact bite sized, for one who takes HUMAN bites. If you do not have meat as such, cut it into smaller cubes. Annalena, as mentioned, used veal. Salt it with a good teaspoon of salt, and let it rest in your refrigerator, overnight.
The next day, gather your ingredients. For 3 pounds of meat, you will need 3 cups of tomato puree. If you change the quantity of meat, change the liquid accordingly. You will also need 3-4 cups of a vegetable of some kind. Think about what vegetables you enjoy with the kind of meat you are preparing. Annalena loves the combination of peas with veal, and peas are the Guyman's favorite vegetable. It is perhaps a not well known fact that fresh peas stand up to long cooking very well. They also release a starch that helps thicken liquids, and they are in season now. If you care not for peas, then think about artichokes, or carrots, or green beans, fava beans, etc. You will also need about 3/4 cup of chopped onions. The onions available from the market right now are the wonderful spring onions, so use those if you can get them, or use the usual storage onions. Optionally, if you have some dried mushrooms at home, use them liberally. Soak them under hot water until they reconstitute, drain them, and chop them fine. Then, strain the liquid. You may wish to use this in your spezzatino, as it would be a shame to dispose of it.
Finally, if you are so inclined (and Annalena was), get some flour to coat the meat. Annalena does this to ensure a nice dark sear and also, the flour acts as a thickener in the stew as well.
Now we can begin. Put about a quarter cup of olive oil in a big pan. As it heats, if you are using the flour, shake portions of the meat in a large bag, with flour. You want to get the meat covered, so make sure there's enough flour in the bag. Only do as much meat as can fit comfortably in your pan at a time, and when the oil is hot, add the meat at medium high heat, and let it brown on all sides. Take your time here. This is the only point at which you will be adding color to the dish. Keep on doing this, until you have browned all the meat. Pour off about half of the fat, and add the onions. Lower the heat to medium, and saute' them, just until they go translucent.
Another optional step here, is to add a half cup of white wine. Move your face away, add the wine, and stir, so as to get up the brown bits and add another layer of flavor to the dish. Add the meat back, and then add the tomatoes, the mushroom water if you are using it, and the mushrooms. Bring this to a boil, then lower the heat to the lowest level you can. If you happen to have a heat disperser, put the pot on top of that. Cover it, and let it cook, gently, for about an hour. It should barely bubble. After an hour, add your vegetables. Taste the liquid, and if it needs salt (it probably will), add it. Cover the pot again, and cook for at least another 90 minutes. At the end of 2.5 hours of cooking, check the tenderness of the meat. If you find it soft enough, you may taste it and season as you like. If it needs more time, let it stew a bit longer.
You will notice, if you use the flour, the mushrooms, and the peas, that the liquid will have tightened and thickened substantially, but this dish is going to remain a stew. It will be better if you let it sit for a day before reheating it and eating it, but if exigency calls for you to eat it the same night, make yourself some polenta (ideal), or risotto, or even pasta. This will make you about 9-10 cups, which is more than sufficient for six good sized appetites, with some left over.
Spezzatino. Yes, it breaks up in the pan, but Annalena would not break up with her ragazzi. Yes, it is warm, but look at this recipe and ask yourself: will I sweat more than if I barbecue a steak? You will not. Go to your kitchen and cook.
Coming up, another Italian one that may skeev some of you out: crostini neri, or Tuscan chicken liver canapes, and then, an all American favorite: rhubarb caramel ice cream, with a primer on how to read a recipe and how to react when it is clear that the instructions are wrong.
There were so many dishes that we ate in Italy, that one is hard pressed to pick a favorite. Annalena shall not soon forget the pizzas. The "simple" tomato sauces. The lemon sorbet, made with Sorrento lemons that was transcendent. Oxtails in Rome. Spider crab in Venice. Trippa in Florence. Piccione in Umbria. Squid so tiny that she fit three of them on her fingernail. Anchovies so fresh that she could eat four plates herself.
The single dish we ate more than once, was spezzatino, and that was a matter of chance. Sitting in a Roman trattoria, the Guyman ordered it. The next day, at a planned lunch it was served again. Like Patty Duke and Cathy Lane "as different as night and day."
And of course, as the faithful readers know, when two dishes bear the same name, but turn out differently, Annalena is intrigued. And that started a bit of research which culminated in the dish presented here.
"Spezzatino" is, essentially , a stew. And its name comes from "spezzare," which is to break up, in the sense of something crumbling or dissolving, and so forth, because that is what is supposed to happen in the cooking of the dish: chunks of meat are supposed to dissolve into the liquids. So, too, with the vegetables.
But what is "spezzatino?" Well, as Annalena learned, it is not so much a dish, as a technique, like guazetto, or even cassoulet. In doing her research, Annalena found scores of recipes, and isolated the commonalities: chunks of a tougher cut of meat. Onions. Tomato puree. Vegetables. And that was all that was common.
When in Italy, the Guyman and Ananlena had it both times, with veal. And here is a bit of information for you all, ragazzi. As Annalena has said before, if you can be sure that your provider is treating the animals humanely, please do not refrain from veal. Let us look at the numbers: half of all calves are male. One needs one male calf to raise to steerhood, for every twenty females. What, pray tell, do you think happens to the other nineteen? For one answer, please check the catfood section of your supermarket. This recipe calls for veal, but as Annalena learned, one may use beef , pork , or lamb in its stead. Indeed, as we go through this recipe, Annalena will tell you where you may change things, or leave them out, etc.
COMINCIAMO! Get yourself three pounds of cubes of shoulder meat, of some kind. Now, inspect it. Sometimes, the cubes are small enough, that they are in fact bite sized, for one who takes HUMAN bites. If you do not have meat as such, cut it into smaller cubes. Annalena, as mentioned, used veal. Salt it with a good teaspoon of salt, and let it rest in your refrigerator, overnight.
The next day, gather your ingredients. For 3 pounds of meat, you will need 3 cups of tomato puree. If you change the quantity of meat, change the liquid accordingly. You will also need 3-4 cups of a vegetable of some kind. Think about what vegetables you enjoy with the kind of meat you are preparing. Annalena loves the combination of peas with veal, and peas are the Guyman's favorite vegetable. It is perhaps a not well known fact that fresh peas stand up to long cooking very well. They also release a starch that helps thicken liquids, and they are in season now. If you care not for peas, then think about artichokes, or carrots, or green beans, fava beans, etc. You will also need about 3/4 cup of chopped onions. The onions available from the market right now are the wonderful spring onions, so use those if you can get them, or use the usual storage onions. Optionally, if you have some dried mushrooms at home, use them liberally. Soak them under hot water until they reconstitute, drain them, and chop them fine. Then, strain the liquid. You may wish to use this in your spezzatino, as it would be a shame to dispose of it.
Finally, if you are so inclined (and Annalena was), get some flour to coat the meat. Annalena does this to ensure a nice dark sear and also, the flour acts as a thickener in the stew as well.
Now we can begin. Put about a quarter cup of olive oil in a big pan. As it heats, if you are using the flour, shake portions of the meat in a large bag, with flour. You want to get the meat covered, so make sure there's enough flour in the bag. Only do as much meat as can fit comfortably in your pan at a time, and when the oil is hot, add the meat at medium high heat, and let it brown on all sides. Take your time here. This is the only point at which you will be adding color to the dish. Keep on doing this, until you have browned all the meat. Pour off about half of the fat, and add the onions. Lower the heat to medium, and saute' them, just until they go translucent.
Another optional step here, is to add a half cup of white wine. Move your face away, add the wine, and stir, so as to get up the brown bits and add another layer of flavor to the dish. Add the meat back, and then add the tomatoes, the mushroom water if you are using it, and the mushrooms. Bring this to a boil, then lower the heat to the lowest level you can. If you happen to have a heat disperser, put the pot on top of that. Cover it, and let it cook, gently, for about an hour. It should barely bubble. After an hour, add your vegetables. Taste the liquid, and if it needs salt (it probably will), add it. Cover the pot again, and cook for at least another 90 minutes. At the end of 2.5 hours of cooking, check the tenderness of the meat. If you find it soft enough, you may taste it and season as you like. If it needs more time, let it stew a bit longer.
You will notice, if you use the flour, the mushrooms, and the peas, that the liquid will have tightened and thickened substantially, but this dish is going to remain a stew. It will be better if you let it sit for a day before reheating it and eating it, but if exigency calls for you to eat it the same night, make yourself some polenta (ideal), or risotto, or even pasta. This will make you about 9-10 cups, which is more than sufficient for six good sized appetites, with some left over.
Spezzatino. Yes, it breaks up in the pan, but Annalena would not break up with her ragazzi. Yes, it is warm, but look at this recipe and ask yourself: will I sweat more than if I barbecue a steak? You will not. Go to your kitchen and cook.
Coming up, another Italian one that may skeev some of you out: crostini neri, or Tuscan chicken liver canapes, and then, an all American favorite: rhubarb caramel ice cream, with a primer on how to read a recipe and how to react when it is clear that the instructions are wrong.
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