This one, ragazzi, is a bit of an experiment. Annalena dedicates it to all of her readers who look at the recipes and WANT to cook, but wonder, perhaps "HOW does she put it together? I could never do that?"
Yes , ragazzi, you can. And Annalena is going to show you how, using recipes that are on this blog.
We are , again, using an ingredient which is about to fade from our local markets: eggplant. One of Annalena's favorites. And perfect here, because in case you want to make your own pizza, and you have a vegetarian with which to share it, there are few better substitutes for meat, than eggplant.
Now, Annalena is going to give you instructions on how to do this, start to finish, in about an hour and a half. If you do things the way she does though, and make the ingredients separately, it will take you far less time. In other words, when Annalena has space, she makes each of these ingredients. Then, she just pulls it together.
Would that the rest of her life were that easy.
Ok, so here's how we're going to order it. First, we are going to cook the eggplant. And this is a recipe that all of her health freak fans are going to love, because we're all used to frying breaded eggplant. Nope, not here. First, preheat your oven to 425. While that is happening, get a really big eggplant, and peel and slice it, into rounds, of say 1/3 of an inch. Now, follow the recipe for oven fried tomatoes, which follows, only use bread crumbs instead of cracker crumbs:
http://annalenacantacena.blogspot.com/2012/09/seasons-change-oven-fried-tomatoes-and.html
The next step is one you could start before you make the eggplant, or now. In fact, maybe it is better to start it first. We're going to make the sauce. And it's going to take less than an hour. You remember this one, yes?
http://annalenacantacena.blogspot.com/2012/06/relearning-annalena-rethinks-her-tomato.html
So, now you have your sauce and your eggplant. What about your crust? Here again, Annalena to the rescue. Again, perhaps this is best done first of all, since it needs the time to rise:
http://annalenacantacena.blogspot.com/2007/11/pizza.html
So, if you were doing this in some kind of order, you might make the crust dough first (and you'd have enough for two pies), let it rise, and put the sauce on the stove, while you prepped the eggplant.
If you go through the actual amount of WORK you do here, it will come to less than about 20 minutes. Seriously. You can handle this.
Now, roll out your dough, spread some of that sauce over it (and you have plenty to use for other things), put slices of eggplant on top of that, and then your cheese. As always, use the good stuff. With eggplant, Annalena prefers smoked mozzarella, but it's YOUR pizza, not hers. So use what you like. If you have some fresh basil leaves around, as they say "smoke em if you got em."
And there's your pizza. It's gonna be good, hot, and you will thank Annalena immensely.
Next time around: perhaps we will visit the kohlrabi, as promised awhile ago (Annalena loses her grip sometime), but just maybe we will be investigating the case of the disintegrating quince.
Yes, ragazzi, it is true. Annalena is in need of a life.
Sunday, September 30, 2012
Tuesday, September 25, 2012
Soup season begins: roasted eggplant and tomato soup
The regular readers of these pages will recall that, comes post Labor Day, the Guyman goes back to music rehearsals. That means late night suppers. And, for us, that means soup, pizza and salad. Annalena will update you with soup recipes as she develops them - assuming that they are new. For example, whilst we are in week the third, the first soup was cold corn soup, which you have in your archives. Just look it up. Second week was squash soup which, as she thinks about it, Annalena probably did not give you. Mi dispiace. We will see about putting it up. But for today, we stick our heads in the oven, and roast our vegetables for a really delicious, substantial soup. One that also, by the way, is almost fat free (Ms. Em, are you listening?)
Few vegetables are as misunderstood, as eggplants are. What Annalena means by this, is that many people THINK they like them, but actually like eggplant as a carrier for other things. Step back a minute and think: when you have eggplant parmagiana, can you pick the flavor of eggplant out of that mouthful? Annalena thinks not. When you eat baba ghanouj, how about picking eggplant out of the tahini? Again, very difficult to do , isn't it? Fact of the matter is, eggplant is one of those vegetables that seems to add more texture than flavor to things. Many people think of it as a meat substitute, because it is dense, chewy, and picks up flavors, but let's revisit eggplant and treat it for what it is.
This soup does use other ingredients, but the star is the eggplant. And Annalena assures you, you will taste it. And you will like it.
Let us start with our ingredients. You will need eggplants, plum tomatoes (you do need the plum variety here), a large onion, and about six cloves of garlic. You should have twice as much eggplant as you do tomatoes. So, if you have two pounds of eggplant.... Approximations are fine, especially if there is a higher ratio of eggplant to tomato than 2:1 You CAN also use basil or pesto with this, if you like. To keep it more fat free, use the basil leaves rather than the pesto.
Preheat your oven to 425. Cut the blossom end off of your eggplants and then cut them in half, lengthwise. Do the same with your plum tomatoes. Cut your onion in quarters, and peel it. Now, do one of two things: EITHER rub two baking sheets with olive oil (do not be skimpy), OR line them with parchment paper, and rub olive oil over the cut surface of the tomatoes and the eggplant, and rub it on the onion and garlic.
If you do not use the parchment paper, you will get a browner, more "roasty" tasting soup, but cleanup will be more difficult. If you use the parchment, you will still get some smokiness, but not the same amount, and clean up will be simple. Your choice.
Put the eggplant, cut side down on one baking sheet, with the onion and the garlic. Put the tomatoes on the other one, cut sides UP. Sprinkle a little salt on them.
Bake these guys for about forty minutes. After twenty, reverse the position in the oven, and at twenty, check your garlic. If it's soft and tender, take it out, and put it in a bowl. If not, let it continue to roast. When you can push the eggplant and get no resistance, your veggies are done. Get them out of the oven, dump them all into a bowl, and let them cool. You'll notice, even if you used the parchment, that the tomatoes and eggplants have browned a bit. The onion will have softened.
It is VERY important that you show some patience here, because these vegertables are very, very hot. When they do cool down, scrape the pulp from the eggplant. If you get some of the skin, it's no big deal, but don't take too much of it.
Now, get those veggies into a blender. You don't have to peel the garlic. Seriously, you don't. If your blender isn't big enough, do this in two batches. If you are inclined, this is the time to add the basil leaves, or the pesto.
You will not need liquid, because the juice of the tomatoes, and the water in the eggplant will be sufficient to make a puree; however, you must stand back now and look at it, because this is THICK. If you are fonder of thinner soups, do use water, or vegetable stock or chicken stock to thin it, but know that the delicate flavor of the eggplant will become more diluted. To Annalena's taste, better to have a small bowl of the thick stuff.
Taste. Adjust your seasonings. Eggplant needs a fair piece of salt, so be ready.
And there you are. A soup that uses the tail ends of what summer has given us so bountifully. You may be surprised how little this makes: Annalena got just over a quart, but it is difficult to eat much of this.
Soon, ragazzi, Annalena tangles with a vegetable she has not cooked more than once: kohlrabi.
Few vegetables are as misunderstood, as eggplants are. What Annalena means by this, is that many people THINK they like them, but actually like eggplant as a carrier for other things. Step back a minute and think: when you have eggplant parmagiana, can you pick the flavor of eggplant out of that mouthful? Annalena thinks not. When you eat baba ghanouj, how about picking eggplant out of the tahini? Again, very difficult to do , isn't it? Fact of the matter is, eggplant is one of those vegetables that seems to add more texture than flavor to things. Many people think of it as a meat substitute, because it is dense, chewy, and picks up flavors, but let's revisit eggplant and treat it for what it is.
This soup does use other ingredients, but the star is the eggplant. And Annalena assures you, you will taste it. And you will like it.
Let us start with our ingredients. You will need eggplants, plum tomatoes (you do need the plum variety here), a large onion, and about six cloves of garlic. You should have twice as much eggplant as you do tomatoes. So, if you have two pounds of eggplant.... Approximations are fine, especially if there is a higher ratio of eggplant to tomato than 2:1 You CAN also use basil or pesto with this, if you like. To keep it more fat free, use the basil leaves rather than the pesto.
Preheat your oven to 425. Cut the blossom end off of your eggplants and then cut them in half, lengthwise. Do the same with your plum tomatoes. Cut your onion in quarters, and peel it. Now, do one of two things: EITHER rub two baking sheets with olive oil (do not be skimpy), OR line them with parchment paper, and rub olive oil over the cut surface of the tomatoes and the eggplant, and rub it on the onion and garlic.
If you do not use the parchment paper, you will get a browner, more "roasty" tasting soup, but cleanup will be more difficult. If you use the parchment, you will still get some smokiness, but not the same amount, and clean up will be simple. Your choice.
Put the eggplant, cut side down on one baking sheet, with the onion and the garlic. Put the tomatoes on the other one, cut sides UP. Sprinkle a little salt on them.
Bake these guys for about forty minutes. After twenty, reverse the position in the oven, and at twenty, check your garlic. If it's soft and tender, take it out, and put it in a bowl. If not, let it continue to roast. When you can push the eggplant and get no resistance, your veggies are done. Get them out of the oven, dump them all into a bowl, and let them cool. You'll notice, even if you used the parchment, that the tomatoes and eggplants have browned a bit. The onion will have softened.
It is VERY important that you show some patience here, because these vegertables are very, very hot. When they do cool down, scrape the pulp from the eggplant. If you get some of the skin, it's no big deal, but don't take too much of it.
Now, get those veggies into a blender. You don't have to peel the garlic. Seriously, you don't. If your blender isn't big enough, do this in two batches. If you are inclined, this is the time to add the basil leaves, or the pesto.
You will not need liquid, because the juice of the tomatoes, and the water in the eggplant will be sufficient to make a puree; however, you must stand back now and look at it, because this is THICK. If you are fonder of thinner soups, do use water, or vegetable stock or chicken stock to thin it, but know that the delicate flavor of the eggplant will become more diluted. To Annalena's taste, better to have a small bowl of the thick stuff.
Taste. Adjust your seasonings. Eggplant needs a fair piece of salt, so be ready.
And there you are. A soup that uses the tail ends of what summer has given us so bountifully. You may be surprised how little this makes: Annalena got just over a quart, but it is difficult to eat much of this.
Soon, ragazzi, Annalena tangles with a vegetable she has not cooked more than once: kohlrabi.
Monday, September 24, 2012
Sunday supper with some new friends: baked fennel and radicchio pasta
There is no denying the change of seasons, ragazzi. Annalena's source of berries, which has provided them at 4/10 for months, has raised their prices. Scarcity does that. Grapes are at their peak. Apples, apples everywhere. Pears. Figs. And Annalena's beloved quinces have arrived for their brief appearance (we'll be doing more with quinces this year, ragazzi, let me tell you). And a reappearance by that most deceptive of vegetables: radicchio.
To look at radicchio is to love it: beautiful dark red leaves, streaked with white, perhaps with some green spots. It just looks so... inviting.
And you bite into it, and.... bitter. So, so bitter. Well, not so, so bitter, but if you are expecting the sweetness of green leaf lettuce, you are in for a surprise. So, too, if you fall into the trap of "it's red, it must be sweet," as so many do. If you like the flavor of raw radicchio, as Annalena does, there is no problem here. If you do not... there are ways of taming it. As we shall learn.
Also, a vegetable which Annalena's fans will know she favors: fennel Fennel does well in colder weather, so it is everywhere now, much to Annalena's delight. This is another "trickster." You see those big fronds and think dill. Not so much. And in many ways, it looks so much like celery.
So, your first time biting into some fennel and getting the strong anise flavor , much akin to licorice, will surprise you. Again, if you like it, we are fine. If not, well...
And again, there are ways to tame it. And actually, if you like sausage, you like fennel. It is almost impossible to make delicious sausage without some fennel seed. So you know the flavor.
Today, we are going to use both of them, in a dish that is going to involve some work. Not MUCH work, but more than we've done in many of these dishes. And it is going to be a vegetarian dish that has the feel of meat in your mouth. (Annalena is watching, ragazzi. Let us not make jest of this comment).
The title speaks of Sunday supper, because for Annalena, an ideal Sunday supper is some baked pasta, a green salad, some bread, and fruit. But in fact, the Guyman and Annalena ate this for Thursday night supper, as Sunday is the cook's night off. It IS ideal for that Sunday meal, however, because it makes a lot, ultimately it is fancy enough to make people feel they are special, but not so fancy to freak them out. You can serve it to your vegetarian friends (although not your vegan buddies), and they will wonder why you served them meat. Your meat eating friends will insist you are lying when you tell them that you have served them a vegetarian dish. So, let them bicker. You, caro, (or cara), sit at the head of the table , smile, grit your teeth and say "I love my friends, I love my friends, I love my friends," because ultimately, you do. Else they would not be at your table.
Ok, ragazzi, let's get to work here. There is a prerequisite: you need three to four cups of tomato sauce. Now, if you have been a naughty child and do not have such in your fridge or freezer, you will find at least three or four different sauce recipes within this blog. (If you are using stuff out of a jar, Annalena will smite you. Yes, she will). Put that homemade sauce aside, whilst you prepare the vegetables.
First, the fennel. Two large bulbs of it please. Cut away the fronds (save them if you are making fish that week: they are superb with fish, even better in a seafood risotto), and also those long arms. (We traditional Italians eat them at the end of a meal to sweeten our breath. Sadly, this tradition is not much in use anymore. Another sign of the deterioration of standards, we bemoan). Take the remaining bulbs, and slice them into rings. Combine them with rings of a large onion in one bowl.
Next, a couple of heads of radicchio. Chop these into small bits. No need for surgical precision here, but do make them small. Separate bowl for these guys.
Get a really big pan, and combine two tablespoons of butter, and two of olive oil. When it is warm, add the onion, the fennel, and a pinch of salt. Don't move them around much at first, but after about five minutes, do some stirring. Stir, and desist, stir and desist, for you want a slight brown color to the stuff. It should take 10-15 minutes. Now add the radicchio. This is going to heap your pan pretty high, so use some care in mixing it in. It will collapse, as all greens do, and again, watch for the color change. Cooking radicchio is interesting: the red turns to a very dark purple, which you either like or hate , and the bitterness goes out and the radicchio sweetens. This also happens when you grill it. You cook this for about ten minutes, until the leaves are browning as well (do NOT remove the fennel during this process).
So you will have spent about twenty minutes cooking your vegetables. When they're done, put them in a bowl to cool.
Normally, Annalena would tell you to do the next step, simultaneously with the cooking of the vegetables; however, it is important to have them cool, so do it next. Combine two cups of good ricotta (and remember, ragazzi, ricotta with a name that ends with an "o," is NOT good ricotta), with a cup and a half of grated fontina cheese. (A "truc" as the French say, for grating fontina, which can be frustrating: put it in your freezer for 10-15 minutes before you grate it. Firming it up will make it easier to grate). And grate an extra half cup, and put that on the side.
Now, for the pasta. This recipe was originally one for stuffed shells. 48 of them. If any of you think Annalena is mad enough to stand there and stuff 48 shells, you are wrong. So, use a large shaped pasta. Annalena chose something called "calamari" because it is the shape of rings of squid. If you happen to have the large shells, use them, but pace pace, do not stuff them. They will be fine as we make them. You need a pound of pasta, which you cook to a bit firmer than al dente in rapidly boiling salted water. Drain the stuff.
You needed a big pot to cook that pasta. Let's use it again. Put the pasta back in the pot , off the heat, and stir in the vegetables, and then the cheese mixture. Turn your oven to 375. Now, take that sauce (we didn't forget), and put half of it on the bottom of a 9x13 inch pan. Put the pasta mixure in, and pour the rest of the sauce over that. And finally, sprinkle the last half cup of cheese over the mass . Put it on a baking sheet to help maneuver it, and get it in that oven, for about 35-40 minutes. Take a look after 30, because you're looking for that top fontina, to brown.
PHEW. You worked, didn't you? But you have enough pasta here to serve at least 8, probably as many as 12. Or, if there aren't that many of you, you have meals to spare, as this will freeze wonderfully.
This is the kind of food that hugs you. We all need that from time to time, don't we?
Abracci dal Annalema
To look at radicchio is to love it: beautiful dark red leaves, streaked with white, perhaps with some green spots. It just looks so... inviting.
And you bite into it, and.... bitter. So, so bitter. Well, not so, so bitter, but if you are expecting the sweetness of green leaf lettuce, you are in for a surprise. So, too, if you fall into the trap of "it's red, it must be sweet," as so many do. If you like the flavor of raw radicchio, as Annalena does, there is no problem here. If you do not... there are ways of taming it. As we shall learn.
Also, a vegetable which Annalena's fans will know she favors: fennel Fennel does well in colder weather, so it is everywhere now, much to Annalena's delight. This is another "trickster." You see those big fronds and think dill. Not so much. And in many ways, it looks so much like celery.
So, your first time biting into some fennel and getting the strong anise flavor , much akin to licorice, will surprise you. Again, if you like it, we are fine. If not, well...
And again, there are ways to tame it. And actually, if you like sausage, you like fennel. It is almost impossible to make delicious sausage without some fennel seed. So you know the flavor.
Today, we are going to use both of them, in a dish that is going to involve some work. Not MUCH work, but more than we've done in many of these dishes. And it is going to be a vegetarian dish that has the feel of meat in your mouth. (Annalena is watching, ragazzi. Let us not make jest of this comment).
The title speaks of Sunday supper, because for Annalena, an ideal Sunday supper is some baked pasta, a green salad, some bread, and fruit. But in fact, the Guyman and Annalena ate this for Thursday night supper, as Sunday is the cook's night off. It IS ideal for that Sunday meal, however, because it makes a lot, ultimately it is fancy enough to make people feel they are special, but not so fancy to freak them out. You can serve it to your vegetarian friends (although not your vegan buddies), and they will wonder why you served them meat. Your meat eating friends will insist you are lying when you tell them that you have served them a vegetarian dish. So, let them bicker. You, caro, (or cara), sit at the head of the table , smile, grit your teeth and say "I love my friends, I love my friends, I love my friends," because ultimately, you do. Else they would not be at your table.
Ok, ragazzi, let's get to work here. There is a prerequisite: you need three to four cups of tomato sauce. Now, if you have been a naughty child and do not have such in your fridge or freezer, you will find at least three or four different sauce recipes within this blog. (If you are using stuff out of a jar, Annalena will smite you. Yes, she will). Put that homemade sauce aside, whilst you prepare the vegetables.
First, the fennel. Two large bulbs of it please. Cut away the fronds (save them if you are making fish that week: they are superb with fish, even better in a seafood risotto), and also those long arms. (We traditional Italians eat them at the end of a meal to sweeten our breath. Sadly, this tradition is not much in use anymore. Another sign of the deterioration of standards, we bemoan). Take the remaining bulbs, and slice them into rings. Combine them with rings of a large onion in one bowl.
Next, a couple of heads of radicchio. Chop these into small bits. No need for surgical precision here, but do make them small. Separate bowl for these guys.
Get a really big pan, and combine two tablespoons of butter, and two of olive oil. When it is warm, add the onion, the fennel, and a pinch of salt. Don't move them around much at first, but after about five minutes, do some stirring. Stir, and desist, stir and desist, for you want a slight brown color to the stuff. It should take 10-15 minutes. Now add the radicchio. This is going to heap your pan pretty high, so use some care in mixing it in. It will collapse, as all greens do, and again, watch for the color change. Cooking radicchio is interesting: the red turns to a very dark purple, which you either like or hate , and the bitterness goes out and the radicchio sweetens. This also happens when you grill it. You cook this for about ten minutes, until the leaves are browning as well (do NOT remove the fennel during this process).
So you will have spent about twenty minutes cooking your vegetables. When they're done, put them in a bowl to cool.
Normally, Annalena would tell you to do the next step, simultaneously with the cooking of the vegetables; however, it is important to have them cool, so do it next. Combine two cups of good ricotta (and remember, ragazzi, ricotta with a name that ends with an "o," is NOT good ricotta), with a cup and a half of grated fontina cheese. (A "truc" as the French say, for grating fontina, which can be frustrating: put it in your freezer for 10-15 minutes before you grate it. Firming it up will make it easier to grate). And grate an extra half cup, and put that on the side.
Now, for the pasta. This recipe was originally one for stuffed shells. 48 of them. If any of you think Annalena is mad enough to stand there and stuff 48 shells, you are wrong. So, use a large shaped pasta. Annalena chose something called "calamari" because it is the shape of rings of squid. If you happen to have the large shells, use them, but pace pace, do not stuff them. They will be fine as we make them. You need a pound of pasta, which you cook to a bit firmer than al dente in rapidly boiling salted water. Drain the stuff.
You needed a big pot to cook that pasta. Let's use it again. Put the pasta back in the pot , off the heat, and stir in the vegetables, and then the cheese mixture. Turn your oven to 375. Now, take that sauce (we didn't forget), and put half of it on the bottom of a 9x13 inch pan. Put the pasta mixure in, and pour the rest of the sauce over that. And finally, sprinkle the last half cup of cheese over the mass . Put it on a baking sheet to help maneuver it, and get it in that oven, for about 35-40 minutes. Take a look after 30, because you're looking for that top fontina, to brown.
PHEW. You worked, didn't you? But you have enough pasta here to serve at least 8, probably as many as 12. Or, if there aren't that many of you, you have meals to spare, as this will freeze wonderfully.
This is the kind of food that hugs you. We all need that from time to time, don't we?
Abracci dal Annalema
Friday, September 21, 2012
Salad as explanation: watermelon and feta cheese and salad
Several of Annalena's more postmodern readers may very well catch the referent, when she rights "salad as explanation." She will leave it to Dr to be Mullins to see if he can identify the referent. In any event, the idea behind this is simple. Perhaps too simple. A salad is an explanation because it explains what is in the cook's mind. And most of us do not allow our minds to control what we do when we make our salads; rather, we let other thoughts, other flights, control. And that, ragazzi, is where many salads fail. In a few words, they are overcomplicated. Explanations should be simple. So should salads.
When Annalena makes a salad, putting aside the dressing for a moment (and we SHALL return to that), she NEVER uses more than four components. Indeed, usually it is but three. Salad greens of some sort, be they lettuce, arugula, spinach, escarole, etc. Sometimes, this is all. And it is more than enough. But sometimes, a colorful ingredient: something to contrast the green color. Beets come to mind, both red and gold. Or pomegranate seeds. Or slices of apple, now that we are in the throes of autumn. Or blueberries when they are available. And if a third is added, something to contrast the first two. Salad is crunchy, but one cannot say it is crispy. Neither are beets, or the aforementioned fruits. So, something crispy. Toasted nuts for example. Or croutons, simply fried or baked with olive oil. Or slices of fennel (a vegetable much on Annalena's mind of now, as you will all find out in due course.).
Now, you put down your hand. To Annalena's taste, a salad that goes much beyond this, if beyond it at all, becomes too complex to satisfy the role of a salad. Keep in mind that Annalena serves her salads at the end of the meal, where they are intended to begin to give the diner a short rest if a dessert and cheese are to follow, or to indicate closure. Scientific evidence shows that when crispy greens are eaten, the muscles of the digestive system do begin to contact, indicating "ENOUGH."
Isn't that interesting? So if you clot your salad with too much, then you are confusing your own biology.
Think about it, ragazzi: can you think of many things better than a simple tomato and basil salad, with perhaps mozzarella, but perhaps not? Think of a great Caesar salad, that wonderful Mexican invention (yes, carissimi, it is Mexican in origin). But most of all, think of the refreshing, wonderful green salads you have eaten. As Annalena has written before, have you ever wondered why many restaurants do not serve salads that are simply greens? Ah, it is because they are too difficult to make. When one makes a simple green salad, it is akin to walking the tightrope, or the balance beam. One thing out of synch , and the whole enterprise collapses. Simple is not easy.
How did we get here? Oh, yes, of course. Watermelon and feta cheese salad. Again, we are visiting food items which will not be with us much longer. The season for local watermelon, will soon leave us ragazzi. So get them while you can, and enjoy them. If you do enjoy them as fruit, then eat your fill. Annalena and the Guyman like watermelon, but "not that way" as people sometimes say. But they do like it. So, when Annalena saw a recipe recently, for watermelon and feta salad, she had to try it. She has made it a couple of times now. Nay, three times. Once with only melon and cheese. Once with melon, cheese and red onion. And once with melon, cheese and arugula. All were wonderful. All were easy, and no explanation is necessary. Let us proceed.
The ratios here are important. You need about four cups of cubed watermelon. Try to get a sugar baby or some other type which does not have seeds. In Annalena's experience, dark skinned melons are usually seedless, but not always. ASK. And don't buy a precut melon or those ghastly cubes trapped in little plastic containers. No, no no. A small, 7-8 pound melon, will yield enough for two salads of the size contemplated here, and if you are a fan of the fruit itself, you have breakfast or lunch for another day.
Ok, so you have cubed your watermelon. Put it in a salad bowl. Drain an 8 ounce package of feta cheese. You can get fetas from all over the world. Annalena recently saw Greek, Turkish, Bulgarian, Romanian, and French feta cheeses in her market. You can also buy local feta. Which one? ASK. If you are a fan of salty, ask for the saltiest one. If you are a fan of not so salty, proceed accordingly. They are all correct.
Once you have drained the cheese, break it into irregular, small chunks over the watermelon.
You are pretty much done. Even less salty feta is salty, so you don't need to salt the salad (which almost seems contradictory, since salad derives from the same word as salt). Speaking of, perhaps you would prefer to use ricotta salata here? Do. Please do and tell us how it worked.
Now for your dressing. VERY complicated.... Get a bottle of your best olive oil and pour a couple of tablespoons over the cheese and watermelon. Done. Unless you want pepper. Then grate some fresh stuff over it.
You can serve this, and everyone you serve it to will want a second helping.
Now, if you are so inclined, Annalena thinks this is much better if you take half of a red onion, slice it into very thin rings, and put it into the salad as well. If you fear for the sulfur of the onion, let the slices sit in iced cold water while you prepare the other ingredients, drain them , dry them, and put them in the bowl.
Or, if you crave something green, and you like to spend time looking at color contrasts in your salad bowl: baby arugula. About half as much by volume as the watermelon . Or... two cups. Put that in the salad bowl first, and then add the watermelon and the cheese. Again, all you need is the olive oil.
You do not toss this salad. The watermelon looks sturdy, but it is not. If you stir too vigorously, you will break it, and the cheese into minuscule pieces.
And there you are. A lovely salad to transition us from summer to fall.
And if you are mystified by the title, here are some clues which you can google. "A rose is a rose is a rose" and "when you get there, there's no there there."
Happy hunting, ragazzi.
When Annalena makes a salad, putting aside the dressing for a moment (and we SHALL return to that), she NEVER uses more than four components. Indeed, usually it is but three. Salad greens of some sort, be they lettuce, arugula, spinach, escarole, etc. Sometimes, this is all. And it is more than enough. But sometimes, a colorful ingredient: something to contrast the green color. Beets come to mind, both red and gold. Or pomegranate seeds. Or slices of apple, now that we are in the throes of autumn. Or blueberries when they are available. And if a third is added, something to contrast the first two. Salad is crunchy, but one cannot say it is crispy. Neither are beets, or the aforementioned fruits. So, something crispy. Toasted nuts for example. Or croutons, simply fried or baked with olive oil. Or slices of fennel (a vegetable much on Annalena's mind of now, as you will all find out in due course.).
Now, you put down your hand. To Annalena's taste, a salad that goes much beyond this, if beyond it at all, becomes too complex to satisfy the role of a salad. Keep in mind that Annalena serves her salads at the end of the meal, where they are intended to begin to give the diner a short rest if a dessert and cheese are to follow, or to indicate closure. Scientific evidence shows that when crispy greens are eaten, the muscles of the digestive system do begin to contact, indicating "ENOUGH."
Isn't that interesting? So if you clot your salad with too much, then you are confusing your own biology.
Think about it, ragazzi: can you think of many things better than a simple tomato and basil salad, with perhaps mozzarella, but perhaps not? Think of a great Caesar salad, that wonderful Mexican invention (yes, carissimi, it is Mexican in origin). But most of all, think of the refreshing, wonderful green salads you have eaten. As Annalena has written before, have you ever wondered why many restaurants do not serve salads that are simply greens? Ah, it is because they are too difficult to make. When one makes a simple green salad, it is akin to walking the tightrope, or the balance beam. One thing out of synch , and the whole enterprise collapses. Simple is not easy.
How did we get here? Oh, yes, of course. Watermelon and feta cheese salad. Again, we are visiting food items which will not be with us much longer. The season for local watermelon, will soon leave us ragazzi. So get them while you can, and enjoy them. If you do enjoy them as fruit, then eat your fill. Annalena and the Guyman like watermelon, but "not that way" as people sometimes say. But they do like it. So, when Annalena saw a recipe recently, for watermelon and feta salad, she had to try it. She has made it a couple of times now. Nay, three times. Once with only melon and cheese. Once with melon, cheese and red onion. And once with melon, cheese and arugula. All were wonderful. All were easy, and no explanation is necessary. Let us proceed.
The ratios here are important. You need about four cups of cubed watermelon. Try to get a sugar baby or some other type which does not have seeds. In Annalena's experience, dark skinned melons are usually seedless, but not always. ASK. And don't buy a precut melon or those ghastly cubes trapped in little plastic containers. No, no no. A small, 7-8 pound melon, will yield enough for two salads of the size contemplated here, and if you are a fan of the fruit itself, you have breakfast or lunch for another day.
Ok, so you have cubed your watermelon. Put it in a salad bowl. Drain an 8 ounce package of feta cheese. You can get fetas from all over the world. Annalena recently saw Greek, Turkish, Bulgarian, Romanian, and French feta cheeses in her market. You can also buy local feta. Which one? ASK. If you are a fan of salty, ask for the saltiest one. If you are a fan of not so salty, proceed accordingly. They are all correct.
Once you have drained the cheese, break it into irregular, small chunks over the watermelon.
You are pretty much done. Even less salty feta is salty, so you don't need to salt the salad (which almost seems contradictory, since salad derives from the same word as salt). Speaking of, perhaps you would prefer to use ricotta salata here? Do. Please do and tell us how it worked.
Now for your dressing. VERY complicated.... Get a bottle of your best olive oil and pour a couple of tablespoons over the cheese and watermelon. Done. Unless you want pepper. Then grate some fresh stuff over it.
You can serve this, and everyone you serve it to will want a second helping.
Now, if you are so inclined, Annalena thinks this is much better if you take half of a red onion, slice it into very thin rings, and put it into the salad as well. If you fear for the sulfur of the onion, let the slices sit in iced cold water while you prepare the other ingredients, drain them , dry them, and put them in the bowl.
Or, if you crave something green, and you like to spend time looking at color contrasts in your salad bowl: baby arugula. About half as much by volume as the watermelon . Or... two cups. Put that in the salad bowl first, and then add the watermelon and the cheese. Again, all you need is the olive oil.
You do not toss this salad. The watermelon looks sturdy, but it is not. If you stir too vigorously, you will break it, and the cheese into minuscule pieces.
And there you are. A lovely salad to transition us from summer to fall.
And if you are mystified by the title, here are some clues which you can google. "A rose is a rose is a rose" and "when you get there, there's no there there."
Happy hunting, ragazzi.
Thursday, September 20, 2012
Seasons change: oven fried tomatoes (and not necessarily green)
Ragazzi, there is no way to deny it, as the temperatures drop: the seasons are changing. Summer is taking wing. She's still with us, but all of us are sitting, sometimes thinking, regretfully "I shouldn't have complained about the hot days so much." Well, regret, carissimi, is a wasted emotion, in Annalena's view. Embrace the way it is: we will have a wonderful autumn.
The change of seasons, as we have been discussing, results in what we pick up at our farmers market being the same, and yet different. So the blackberries of last week were "good, but not as good as a month ago," and the raspberries were "not as sweet as they were." So, too, with tomatoes. It is hard for vegetables and fruits to pick up that "sun kissed" flavor when there isn't much sun. Do we stop eating them? Perish the thought! Perhaps we eat them the same way we did, and embrace the newer, less intense flavor (which is not necessarily a bad thing), or we prepare them in a different way. And that is where we jump off to our recipe, which is courtesy of one of Annalena's least favorite people, Martha Stewart.
The impetus here, ragazzi, is as follows. Annalena does get one of Ms. Stewart's magazines: the one that looks like a little book. More for ideas on how to cook things, than for recipes per se. In the one which came out at the height of tomato season, Annalena found a recipe for oven fried tomatoes. Now, if some of us abjure baking, many of us abjure frying. It is messy, wasteful, and, DUH, involves FAT. Well, all is true. It is not necessarily unhealthy, if you do it right, and if you eat one serving of fried food, as compared to four servings of the baked one, well.... does Annalena need to tell you this is false economy to eat the four servings of baked? Hopefully not.
Anyway, Ms. Stewart's recipe did not call for the traditional green tomatoes, but they would work here. In fact, ANY tomato would work here, and Annalena suggests you get a mix of colors and sizes. By doing so, you wind up with a plate that is not unlike the mixed tempura plates one gets at Japanese restaurants (Annalena always steals the fried winter squash). There is an ingredient here that may make your eyes pop open. But use it. Use it the first time. It IS really good.
Okay, darlings, let us begin. We start with two pounds of tomatoes, as noted, in different shapes and colors. Slice them into rounds, a bit on the thick side. Put them aside.
Preheat your oven to 425, and then line one or two baking sheets with parchment paper (This is the most important step in the recipe. DO NOT try to do this without parchment). And now, get three flat bowls out and line them up. In the one furthest to the left, put in about a cup and a half of flour. In the middle one, break and beat three large eggs. Finally, in the last one, add crushed.... cornflakes.
That is right, ragazzi, cornflakes. Plain old "corny as... " cornflakes. You will need about five cups of the uncrushed ones. Then, if you want a smooth, even texture, crush them in the food processor. Or, put them in a bag, pound them, and get the uneven type. Not all five cups will fit in your bowl, and that is fine.
After you have your bowls laid out, add a pinch of salt to the eggs, and a larger one to each of the crumbs and flour. Also add a touch of cayenne pepper to the flour (not more than 1/4 teaspoon), or whatever red pepper source you have. Add some more pepper to the crumbs, or another seasoning. Place the baking sheets at the end of this little assembly line, and the tomatoes at the start, near the flour.
Ms. Steward would have you do the next with a fork. Annalena prefers using her hands, which means stopping to wash them occasionally. One by one, dip the tomato slices into the flour, shake off the excess, then coat it with egg, and then crumbs, and place each slice on the baking sheet. If you fill one up, move to the second one.
You will probably not run out of dry ingredients, but you may have to add another egg.
When every slice has been covered, move the sheets into the oven and bake them, for 15-20 minutes, until they darken and crisp up. This is where the parchment becomes important. Tomatoes hold water, and lots of sugar, and if you do not protect the surface, they will stick to it, and you will never get out a decent slice.
After the 15-20 minutes, bring them out and let them cool. If you make yourself some homemade tartar sauce (Annalena uses capers, spices, and mayonnaise), or a bowl of creme fraiche, or just some sliced lemons, you've got yourself something pretty darn delicious. So you should probably make more than you think you need.
Use something else for the breading if you don't have, and/or don't like, cornflakes. Use corn meal, or flavored bread crumbs, or panko, or crackers, or whatever you like.
Now, wasn't that easy, and aren't you smiling over this really yummy goody? Eat up.
Next we roll up our sleeves and get ready for an easys, but time consuming foray into the world of baked pasta. Here's a hint ragazzi: those afficianados of less common veggies (fennel and radicchio), are going to get their day. And you are going to get a FABULOUS pasta main dish you could serve for Sunday dinner.
Ciao belli
The change of seasons, as we have been discussing, results in what we pick up at our farmers market being the same, and yet different. So the blackberries of last week were "good, but not as good as a month ago," and the raspberries were "not as sweet as they were." So, too, with tomatoes. It is hard for vegetables and fruits to pick up that "sun kissed" flavor when there isn't much sun. Do we stop eating them? Perish the thought! Perhaps we eat them the same way we did, and embrace the newer, less intense flavor (which is not necessarily a bad thing), or we prepare them in a different way. And that is where we jump off to our recipe, which is courtesy of one of Annalena's least favorite people, Martha Stewart.
The impetus here, ragazzi, is as follows. Annalena does get one of Ms. Stewart's magazines: the one that looks like a little book. More for ideas on how to cook things, than for recipes per se. In the one which came out at the height of tomato season, Annalena found a recipe for oven fried tomatoes. Now, if some of us abjure baking, many of us abjure frying. It is messy, wasteful, and, DUH, involves FAT. Well, all is true. It is not necessarily unhealthy, if you do it right, and if you eat one serving of fried food, as compared to four servings of the baked one, well.... does Annalena need to tell you this is false economy to eat the four servings of baked? Hopefully not.
Anyway, Ms. Stewart's recipe did not call for the traditional green tomatoes, but they would work here. In fact, ANY tomato would work here, and Annalena suggests you get a mix of colors and sizes. By doing so, you wind up with a plate that is not unlike the mixed tempura plates one gets at Japanese restaurants (Annalena always steals the fried winter squash). There is an ingredient here that may make your eyes pop open. But use it. Use it the first time. It IS really good.
Okay, darlings, let us begin. We start with two pounds of tomatoes, as noted, in different shapes and colors. Slice them into rounds, a bit on the thick side. Put them aside.
Preheat your oven to 425, and then line one or two baking sheets with parchment paper (This is the most important step in the recipe. DO NOT try to do this without parchment). And now, get three flat bowls out and line them up. In the one furthest to the left, put in about a cup and a half of flour. In the middle one, break and beat three large eggs. Finally, in the last one, add crushed.... cornflakes.
That is right, ragazzi, cornflakes. Plain old "corny as... " cornflakes. You will need about five cups of the uncrushed ones. Then, if you want a smooth, even texture, crush them in the food processor. Or, put them in a bag, pound them, and get the uneven type. Not all five cups will fit in your bowl, and that is fine.
After you have your bowls laid out, add a pinch of salt to the eggs, and a larger one to each of the crumbs and flour. Also add a touch of cayenne pepper to the flour (not more than 1/4 teaspoon), or whatever red pepper source you have. Add some more pepper to the crumbs, or another seasoning. Place the baking sheets at the end of this little assembly line, and the tomatoes at the start, near the flour.
Ms. Steward would have you do the next with a fork. Annalena prefers using her hands, which means stopping to wash them occasionally. One by one, dip the tomato slices into the flour, shake off the excess, then coat it with egg, and then crumbs, and place each slice on the baking sheet. If you fill one up, move to the second one.
You will probably not run out of dry ingredients, but you may have to add another egg.
When every slice has been covered, move the sheets into the oven and bake them, for 15-20 minutes, until they darken and crisp up. This is where the parchment becomes important. Tomatoes hold water, and lots of sugar, and if you do not protect the surface, they will stick to it, and you will never get out a decent slice.
After the 15-20 minutes, bring them out and let them cool. If you make yourself some homemade tartar sauce (Annalena uses capers, spices, and mayonnaise), or a bowl of creme fraiche, or just some sliced lemons, you've got yourself something pretty darn delicious. So you should probably make more than you think you need.
Use something else for the breading if you don't have, and/or don't like, cornflakes. Use corn meal, or flavored bread crumbs, or panko, or crackers, or whatever you like.
Now, wasn't that easy, and aren't you smiling over this really yummy goody? Eat up.
Next we roll up our sleeves and get ready for an easys, but time consuming foray into the world of baked pasta. Here's a hint ragazzi: those afficianados of less common veggies (fennel and radicchio), are going to get their day. And you are going to get a FABULOUS pasta main dish you could serve for Sunday dinner.
Ciao belli
Sunday, September 16, 2012
Before they're gone: simple blackberry cake
Ragazzi, as Elinor Wylie wrote "summer, much too beautiful to stay," and she is leaving us. Annalena is sitting here wearing her bright red sweatshirt (designed to prevent her from being shot, accidentally in the woods no doubt. She cannot speak for intentional shooting), and feeling a bit chilled. So, too, when she finished her four mile run today ("not without a struggle," as Paul Lynde once said), she was not covered head to toe with sweat.
None of this, however, has anything to do with the issue of food. But what follows does. In his wonderful novel "Dandelion Wine," the boys who are at the center of the work know that summer is ending when they see , in the general store window, notebooks, pencils and erasers, instead of tennis shoes and picnic kits. OH, do they lament . And they take comfort in the fact that there are the bottles of dandelion wine, labelled by date, in the cellar, which will bring back memories of "the day" when the wine is sipped.
Bittersweet, yes? So, too, is the transition from one type of eating to another. One wants to yell BUT WAIT. I DID NOT EAT ENOUGH PEACHES. Or plums. Or tomatoes. So eat them while you can because, just like the notebooks in the window, the winter squashes, the apples, the pears, and the dark leafy greens and root vegetables, are displacing other things. And of the "summer" crops that remain, well, they no longer have that "sunkissed" type of flavor. Annalena noticed this in the berries this week, especially the blackberries, which were SO succulent and SO full of flavor, and are not a bit tart and asking for sugar. And that, ragazzi, is why we are making blackberry cake today.
Blackberries are challenging to cook with . Their flavor is evanescent, and it seems, at least to Annalena, that heat drives it off. So when she made this recipe, she was surprised to find that the flavor deepened. And when you are looking for something to deepen flavor, what could be better than a blackberry cake that is absurdly easy to do? In fact, in making this, Annalena thought it very much resembled a plum cake she posted very l ong ago. She will have to check. In any event, here we go. And there will be substitutions available. So, cominciamo !
You start with your fruit: two cups of blackberries. This is two of the clamshells in which they are packed. Put them aside (DON'T wash them!) and preheat your oven to 400. Have a stick of butter out coming to room temperature. You will only need half of it, but you will also have to grease your pan. You will also need, to mix together, a cup of all purpose, unbleached flour, and a half teaspoon each of baking powder and baking soda (Should you lack one, Annalena gives you permission to double the one you have). Add a pinch of salt as well. Put this in a little bowl, at the side.
In a larger bowl, now combine the half stick of butter and 2/3 cup of plain white sugar. Don't substitute here, because the brown sugar will overwhelm the blackberries. Get a big wooden spoon and whip this until it's smooth, and light. You COULD use a mixer here, but honestly, why would you? There's not enough material here to justify it, and a big mixer can't handle a small amount of material. Also, it will feel good to do something "a mano." When it's mixed, add a large egg, and mix that, and then add a teaspoon of good quality vanilla. Mix this all together.
Ok, now, just like with our blueberry cake, we are going to alternate adding the flour mixer, and some dairy: half a cup. Buttermilk, or yogurt, or clabbered milk (refer back, ragazzi), or even plain milk. Flour/dairy/flour/dairy/flour is the order you want, but don't fret about this if you don't do it right. You want to do this quickly, as if you were making a biscuit batter. Now, get a 9 inch pan, and grease it well. Spoon the batter in and smooth it as well as you can. Get those blackberries and scatter them across the top (use another berry, or another sliced up fruit, if you just do not have the blackberries). Finally, taste a blackberry. You are going to need to add some sugar to the top of this cake, so you may as well taste to see if you will need more, than the 1.5 tablespoons Annalena recommends. If they are particularly tart, up it to two tablespoons. Get it into the oven, and be prepared to bake for at least an hour, maybe an hour and a quarter (This is a VERY difficult cake to "read" ragazzi. Annalena has made versions of it for years, and the timing is always different). When you can snatch the pebble from my hand.
Oh, wait. That's Kung Fu. Sorry. When you can put a knife in the center of the cake and it comes out clean, you're done.
Let this cool. Don't try to get it out of the pan. It does NOT like that. Eat it quickly. It can probably handle room temperature storage in a cool temperature, for about 2 days. Then it gets nasty. REALLY nasty.
We shall be moving to other , more autumnal dishes very soon, ragazzi, so if there is anything that Annalena has posted this summer which particularly catches your fancy, let her know. OR, if there is something you are hankering for, recipe wise, that you don't see, please tell her. You never know what the lady has up her... sleeve
None of this, however, has anything to do with the issue of food. But what follows does. In his wonderful novel "Dandelion Wine," the boys who are at the center of the work know that summer is ending when they see , in the general store window, notebooks, pencils and erasers, instead of tennis shoes and picnic kits. OH, do they lament . And they take comfort in the fact that there are the bottles of dandelion wine, labelled by date, in the cellar, which will bring back memories of "the day" when the wine is sipped.
Bittersweet, yes? So, too, is the transition from one type of eating to another. One wants to yell BUT WAIT. I DID NOT EAT ENOUGH PEACHES. Or plums. Or tomatoes. So eat them while you can because, just like the notebooks in the window, the winter squashes, the apples, the pears, and the dark leafy greens and root vegetables, are displacing other things. And of the "summer" crops that remain, well, they no longer have that "sunkissed" type of flavor. Annalena noticed this in the berries this week, especially the blackberries, which were SO succulent and SO full of flavor, and are not a bit tart and asking for sugar. And that, ragazzi, is why we are making blackberry cake today.
Blackberries are challenging to cook with . Their flavor is evanescent, and it seems, at least to Annalena, that heat drives it off. So when she made this recipe, she was surprised to find that the flavor deepened. And when you are looking for something to deepen flavor, what could be better than a blackberry cake that is absurdly easy to do? In fact, in making this, Annalena thought it very much resembled a plum cake she posted very l ong ago. She will have to check. In any event, here we go. And there will be substitutions available. So, cominciamo !
You start with your fruit: two cups of blackberries. This is two of the clamshells in which they are packed. Put them aside (DON'T wash them!) and preheat your oven to 400. Have a stick of butter out coming to room temperature. You will only need half of it, but you will also have to grease your pan. You will also need, to mix together, a cup of all purpose, unbleached flour, and a half teaspoon each of baking powder and baking soda (Should you lack one, Annalena gives you permission to double the one you have). Add a pinch of salt as well. Put this in a little bowl, at the side.
In a larger bowl, now combine the half stick of butter and 2/3 cup of plain white sugar. Don't substitute here, because the brown sugar will overwhelm the blackberries. Get a big wooden spoon and whip this until it's smooth, and light. You COULD use a mixer here, but honestly, why would you? There's not enough material here to justify it, and a big mixer can't handle a small amount of material. Also, it will feel good to do something "a mano." When it's mixed, add a large egg, and mix that, and then add a teaspoon of good quality vanilla. Mix this all together.
Ok, now, just like with our blueberry cake, we are going to alternate adding the flour mixer, and some dairy: half a cup. Buttermilk, or yogurt, or clabbered milk (refer back, ragazzi), or even plain milk. Flour/dairy/flour/dairy/flour is the order you want, but don't fret about this if you don't do it right. You want to do this quickly, as if you were making a biscuit batter. Now, get a 9 inch pan, and grease it well. Spoon the batter in and smooth it as well as you can. Get those blackberries and scatter them across the top (use another berry, or another sliced up fruit, if you just do not have the blackberries). Finally, taste a blackberry. You are going to need to add some sugar to the top of this cake, so you may as well taste to see if you will need more, than the 1.5 tablespoons Annalena recommends. If they are particularly tart, up it to two tablespoons. Get it into the oven, and be prepared to bake for at least an hour, maybe an hour and a quarter (This is a VERY difficult cake to "read" ragazzi. Annalena has made versions of it for years, and the timing is always different). When you can snatch the pebble from my hand.
Oh, wait. That's Kung Fu. Sorry. When you can put a knife in the center of the cake and it comes out clean, you're done.
Let this cool. Don't try to get it out of the pan. It does NOT like that. Eat it quickly. It can probably handle room temperature storage in a cool temperature, for about 2 days. Then it gets nasty. REALLY nasty.
We shall be moving to other , more autumnal dishes very soon, ragazzi, so if there is anything that Annalena has posted this summer which particularly catches your fancy, let her know. OR, if there is something you are hankering for, recipe wise, that you don't see, please tell her. You never know what the lady has up her... sleeve
Friday, September 14, 2012
Using your bean: bean and tomato gratin
Ragazzi, Annalena is smiling, ear to ear. You are READING her rants. And commenting on them! BRAVISSIMO. And doing so, with more than the sweet stuff. Yes, she wishes you read the ones on beets and squid, but one cannot have everything now, can one? This one will be a test because (i) it involves dried beans and (ii) there is work involved, including, preferably, a precursor recipe.
That precursor is Annalena's confit of tomatoes, for which the link is given here:
http://annalenacantacena.blogspot.com/2008/07/what-is-summer-tomatoes.html
Now if you do NOT have the confit, you can use regular tomatoes, peeled as per the last recipe, for ratatouille; however, you will lose the wonderful flavored oil. And if you don't have ripe tomatoes, use a can of the stuff. Drain the liquid off.
This recipe was inspired by a dish at Barbuto, which most of you know is one of Annalena's favorite, "go to" restaurants. She was having roast leg of lamb tonight, and a side dish of beans with tomatoes and a crumb crust came with the meat. The meat was wonderful, the beans were divine. So, as she does, Annalena went to the kitchen and asked chef Melissa for the recipe. Melissa smiled and said "oh, I just whipped that up. You know how to do that. No recipe."
Hmmm. Well, ok. And you know what? Melissa was right. Annalena made this, served it with her own roasted lamb, and it was a big, BIG hit. She plans to make it again. DO try it.
Ok, you already know about the tomatoes. You need about four of them, be they confitted or whole, or a drained, 28 ounce can. Break them up.
For the beans, use the white ones: two cups of any kind of white ones. Soak them overnight, and then cook them in lots and lots and lots of water, at a slow simmer, until they soften. Unfortunately, Annalena cannot give you any direction other than "probably at least an hour," because beans are very unpredictable. Test after 45. If they are beginning to yield, add a big tablespoon of salt. That's NOT too much. The water will take most of it, and beans have no internal salt. By waiting the 45 minutes, however, you avoid an issue which some people find objectionable, which is a toughening (almost a "curing" of their skins).
When they are done, drain them, and then mix them together with the broken up tomatoes.
Let this cool a bit, and then stir in a half cup of grated parmesan cheese, adn a half cup of bread crumbs. Taste this now, and see if you need any seasoning. Add some basil or thyme or, best of all, marjoram or savory if you like. Dump the whole thing in a big earthenware or glass baking dish (not as big as the one you used yesterday, but "big enough," if you know what she means), and not, combine two more cups of breadcrumbs with some olive oil: if y ou used the confit, the left over oil. If not, good quality extra virgin. Add enough so that the crumbs begin to clump. Then, spread them over the beans, and put the whole dish on a baking sheet, and then into the oven, at 375, for about 30-45 minutes, until you get a browning on the crust.
This is WICKED hot when it comes out of the oven, so let it come to room temperature, or just warmer before you serve it forth. And eat it with some glee at having made something relatively healthy, and having used your dry beans. Many of you tell me you are looking for bean recipes. Well... now you have one. So, as they say "use your bean."
That precursor is Annalena's confit of tomatoes, for which the link is given here:
http://annalenacantacena.blogspot.com/2008/07/what-is-summer-tomatoes.html
Now if you do NOT have the confit, you can use regular tomatoes, peeled as per the last recipe, for ratatouille; however, you will lose the wonderful flavored oil. And if you don't have ripe tomatoes, use a can of the stuff. Drain the liquid off.
This recipe was inspired by a dish at Barbuto, which most of you know is one of Annalena's favorite, "go to" restaurants. She was having roast leg of lamb tonight, and a side dish of beans with tomatoes and a crumb crust came with the meat. The meat was wonderful, the beans were divine. So, as she does, Annalena went to the kitchen and asked chef Melissa for the recipe. Melissa smiled and said "oh, I just whipped that up. You know how to do that. No recipe."
Hmmm. Well, ok. And you know what? Melissa was right. Annalena made this, served it with her own roasted lamb, and it was a big, BIG hit. She plans to make it again. DO try it.
Ok, you already know about the tomatoes. You need about four of them, be they confitted or whole, or a drained, 28 ounce can. Break them up.
For the beans, use the white ones: two cups of any kind of white ones. Soak them overnight, and then cook them in lots and lots and lots of water, at a slow simmer, until they soften. Unfortunately, Annalena cannot give you any direction other than "probably at least an hour," because beans are very unpredictable. Test after 45. If they are beginning to yield, add a big tablespoon of salt. That's NOT too much. The water will take most of it, and beans have no internal salt. By waiting the 45 minutes, however, you avoid an issue which some people find objectionable, which is a toughening (almost a "curing" of their skins).
When they are done, drain them, and then mix them together with the broken up tomatoes.
Let this cool a bit, and then stir in a half cup of grated parmesan cheese, adn a half cup of bread crumbs. Taste this now, and see if you need any seasoning. Add some basil or thyme or, best of all, marjoram or savory if you like. Dump the whole thing in a big earthenware or glass baking dish (not as big as the one you used yesterday, but "big enough," if you know what she means), and not, combine two more cups of breadcrumbs with some olive oil: if y ou used the confit, the left over oil. If not, good quality extra virgin. Add enough so that the crumbs begin to clump. Then, spread them over the beans, and put the whole dish on a baking sheet, and then into the oven, at 375, for about 30-45 minutes, until you get a browning on the crust.
This is WICKED hot when it comes out of the oven, so let it come to room temperature, or just warmer before you serve it forth. And eat it with some glee at having made something relatively healthy, and having used your dry beans. Many of you tell me you are looking for bean recipes. Well... now you have one. So, as they say "use your bean."
Thursday, September 13, 2012
Don't watch the pot, watch a movie. Oven ratatouille
Ragazzi, Annalena must make a confession right up front: she is NOT a big fan of ratatouille. It always struck her as a dish where "the whole is less than the sum of its parts" if you get what she means. She loves eggplant, squash, and tomatoes individually, but put them together, and she always feels like singing Peggy Lee's "Is that All There Is?"
As she found out this past week, however, there is far from uniform agreement with her on this. In fact, there was dissention within the ranks. See, Annalena was confronting the fact that there was yet more eggplant and yet more squash in the house, and wondering what to do. She said , to the Guyman "well, I COULD make another one of those Queen Mary size dishes of ratatouille, but we don't want that." The Guyman was quiet and made his "Uh... should I keep quiet or speak up" face, which always means "Ok Annalena, there's something here that you don't know." So she followed up with the inevitable question "you LIKE ratatouille," and the answer was "uh, Yeah."
Well, what can you do with that? So, plans were afoot to make it.
Now, for years, Annalena has made stovetop ratatouille, in the biggest pot she has. It is always a mess. Always something requiring a fair amount of tending, and just, frankly, a pain in the ....." So she went looking for other alternatives.
Surprisingly, Mr. Bittman had an option that appealed: an oven ratatouille. See, for some cooks, if a dish involves using the oven, it is immediately discarded. Annalena, however, probably channeling her Hansel and Gretel witch genes, LOVES using her oven. So, away she went. And this is better than stovetop. It really is. It's easier, and it tastes a little better.
She remains not a fan, however. For those of you who like or, as Annalena found out, LOVE this dish, this is for you. Just make sure you have lots of friends who like it, or that you like it a lot, because there is no way to make a SMALL pot of the stuff.
You will need eggplants, squash, and tomatoes. Also onions, garlic, thyme, basil, salt and olive oil. For the first three, try to get equal quantities of each, and two pounds or so of each is the right amount. Skin the tomatoes (cross em at the bottom, put them in hot water for 30 seconds, pull em out, cool em, and peel em. You can do it while you prep the other veggies. Cut the eggplants into cubes (use smaller ones, but you can use the plain old purple ones. Provencalese have used them for hundreds of years). You do not have to peel them, in fact you should not, but wash them then. Do the same thing for your squash. And this is a place to use the monster squash that escaped surveillance in your garden if you have a garden (and if you grow squash, there is inevitably one or, even more, which all of a sudden show up looking like a weapon of mass destruction). Peel and slice the onions. When the tomatoes are ready, chop them. Now peel and half ten - that's right, ten - cloves of garlic. Get a nice bunch of thyme, and cut away the very wooden part of it, but don't chop it. And finally, pour yourself out a half cup of good olive oil.
Here we go. Put a large earthenware baking dish on a baking sheet (key word here, ragazzi, is "LARGE". You have well over six pounds of vegetables darlings). And preheat your oven to 350. Put a few tablespoons of olive oil in the base of the dish, and then add the sliced onions. Salt them. Salt liberally. You will need more salt than you think, because eggplant and squash are essentially insipid without help. Now, pile the eggplant on top of that. More salt, please. Then the squash. Also, more salt. Now tomatoes (and guess what?). Finally, put the sprigs of thyme and then the garlic on top of this, and again.... you guessed it. Pour the rest of the olive oil over the mass, and put it into your oven.
You're going to bake this for an hour, and every fifteen minutes, go in and push the vegetables down with a spatula of some sort. For the first forty five minutes or so, you will have your doubts. You will have SERIOUS doubts and feel that Annalena has led you astray. She knows, ragazzi, she knows. For after 45 minutes, she was saying "THIS ISN"T COOKING." Then, in the last fifteen minutes, something dramatic happens: the vegetables all collapsed, a fair amount of liquid formed, and we had ... RATATOUILLE. Take it out of the oven, stir it around (you'd be astonished, perhaps, at how much collapse there is), and then tear up some fresh basil and stir it into the mass. Don't worry about the thyme sprigs: this is a rustic dish and anyone who has difficulty with a thyme sprig in their food, doesn't deserve your cooking.
Let this cool, so that it firms up a bit. It's better the next day, but you can eat it the same.
Annalena secured three quarts of ratatouille from this recipe. And for all of you who are gaping at HALF A CUP OF OIL.... ok, 3 quarts is 12 cups. Half a cup is four ounces. So, if you figure a cup is a portion, you have 1/3 of an ounce of olive oil per portion. Know how much that is? Less than a tablespoon.
Eat up ragazzi. And if you have clever and fascinating ways to use this stuff, please tell Annalena. She has two quarts of it left.
As she found out this past week, however, there is far from uniform agreement with her on this. In fact, there was dissention within the ranks. See, Annalena was confronting the fact that there was yet more eggplant and yet more squash in the house, and wondering what to do. She said , to the Guyman "well, I COULD make another one of those Queen Mary size dishes of ratatouille, but we don't want that." The Guyman was quiet and made his "Uh... should I keep quiet or speak up" face, which always means "Ok Annalena, there's something here that you don't know." So she followed up with the inevitable question "you LIKE ratatouille," and the answer was "uh, Yeah."
Well, what can you do with that? So, plans were afoot to make it.
Now, for years, Annalena has made stovetop ratatouille, in the biggest pot she has. It is always a mess. Always something requiring a fair amount of tending, and just, frankly, a pain in the ....." So she went looking for other alternatives.
Surprisingly, Mr. Bittman had an option that appealed: an oven ratatouille. See, for some cooks, if a dish involves using the oven, it is immediately discarded. Annalena, however, probably channeling her Hansel and Gretel witch genes, LOVES using her oven. So, away she went. And this is better than stovetop. It really is. It's easier, and it tastes a little better.
She remains not a fan, however. For those of you who like or, as Annalena found out, LOVE this dish, this is for you. Just make sure you have lots of friends who like it, or that you like it a lot, because there is no way to make a SMALL pot of the stuff.
You will need eggplants, squash, and tomatoes. Also onions, garlic, thyme, basil, salt and olive oil. For the first three, try to get equal quantities of each, and two pounds or so of each is the right amount. Skin the tomatoes (cross em at the bottom, put them in hot water for 30 seconds, pull em out, cool em, and peel em. You can do it while you prep the other veggies. Cut the eggplants into cubes (use smaller ones, but you can use the plain old purple ones. Provencalese have used them for hundreds of years). You do not have to peel them, in fact you should not, but wash them then. Do the same thing for your squash. And this is a place to use the monster squash that escaped surveillance in your garden if you have a garden (and if you grow squash, there is inevitably one or, even more, which all of a sudden show up looking like a weapon of mass destruction). Peel and slice the onions. When the tomatoes are ready, chop them. Now peel and half ten - that's right, ten - cloves of garlic. Get a nice bunch of thyme, and cut away the very wooden part of it, but don't chop it. And finally, pour yourself out a half cup of good olive oil.
Here we go. Put a large earthenware baking dish on a baking sheet (key word here, ragazzi, is "LARGE". You have well over six pounds of vegetables darlings). And preheat your oven to 350. Put a few tablespoons of olive oil in the base of the dish, and then add the sliced onions. Salt them. Salt liberally. You will need more salt than you think, because eggplant and squash are essentially insipid without help. Now, pile the eggplant on top of that. More salt, please. Then the squash. Also, more salt. Now tomatoes (and guess what?). Finally, put the sprigs of thyme and then the garlic on top of this, and again.... you guessed it. Pour the rest of the olive oil over the mass, and put it into your oven.
You're going to bake this for an hour, and every fifteen minutes, go in and push the vegetables down with a spatula of some sort. For the first forty five minutes or so, you will have your doubts. You will have SERIOUS doubts and feel that Annalena has led you astray. She knows, ragazzi, she knows. For after 45 minutes, she was saying "THIS ISN"T COOKING." Then, in the last fifteen minutes, something dramatic happens: the vegetables all collapsed, a fair amount of liquid formed, and we had ... RATATOUILLE. Take it out of the oven, stir it around (you'd be astonished, perhaps, at how much collapse there is), and then tear up some fresh basil and stir it into the mass. Don't worry about the thyme sprigs: this is a rustic dish and anyone who has difficulty with a thyme sprig in their food, doesn't deserve your cooking.
Let this cool, so that it firms up a bit. It's better the next day, but you can eat it the same.
Annalena secured three quarts of ratatouille from this recipe. And for all of you who are gaping at HALF A CUP OF OIL.... ok, 3 quarts is 12 cups. Half a cup is four ounces. So, if you figure a cup is a portion, you have 1/3 of an ounce of olive oil per portion. Know how much that is? Less than a tablespoon.
Eat up ragazzi. And if you have clever and fascinating ways to use this stuff, please tell Annalena. She has two quarts of it left.
Wednesday, September 12, 2012
The basic black dress gets a makover: couscous galette
Ninety million years ago, when the food network actually ran programs about COOKING rather than competitions, there was a wonderful program hosted by Michelle Urvater. Entitled "Cooking Monday to Friday," it was a show which demonstrated how you could come home from work, and get a fresh, nutritious, no artificial products dinner on the table, in less than an hour. It was one of Annalena's favorite shows. She watched it every night. Recently, she learned that Chef Urvater has hung up her toque. She will be missed. A wonderful lady, wonderful teacher. Godspeed with your retirement, Michelle!
Well, she once described couscous as "the basic black dress" of the kitchen. I am CERTAIN that 95% of the blog's readership knows exactly what she means, when she speaks of "the basic black dress." To those four straight men who (i) read this and (ii) have no female or gay male friends, when one speaks of "the basic black dress," this is the fundamental piece of clothing which you spend money on, to get a very good quality. It is "simple," although we prefer to say "elegant." Then, as need be, you accessorize, ornament, or otherwise add to the basic item, as need be.
Such is the case with couscous in the kitchen. It is a WONDERFUL thing to have: easy to cook, easy to eat, and it goes with EVERYTHING. For those of you who have never made couscous, one wonders why you are reading this blog. But here's how you do it: you put it in a pot. You cover it with water, with about half an inch over it. Then you heat it up, turn off the heat, cover it, and go away. Five minutes later, you have your couscous. Add salt if you like (to the water), or use broth. Add butter. Add milk and sugar, add whatever you like. Put whatever you like on it. Stir herbs into it.
You all get the picture, yes? And you can get whole wheat varieties (worth trying), flavored varieties (not), and organic ones (Annalena does not see the difference).
Recently, she read a recipe entitled "couscous galette," which was intriguing, to say the least. Reading through the recipe, Annalena saw places to make changes, as she always does. She and the Guyman ate this last night with their seared tuna and ratatouile (and you are going to get a new ratatouille recipe soon), and it was AMAZING. You can make this. You should make this. You WILL make this. And here we go.
First, you need a nonstick pan that is oven safe. You should have this already. You also need couscous which, you can make fresh, or use leftover (Annalena made couscous earlier in the week, and stored the extra, as she always does). You will also need 2 tablespoons of butter (which halves the amount called for in the original recipe), a large shallot or two , 3 large eggs, and 8 ounces of gruyere, or some other melting cheese. First, turn your oven to the broiler setting, and make sure the oven rack is about 6-8 inches from the heat source.
Now, do the hardest thing you will do for this recipe: grate the cheese. Put it all in a bowl with the 3 eggs, and mix it up. Add to that, three cups of cooked couscous. (the original called for 2. Three is good). Taste it and correct for salt, if need be.
Now, slice the shallots (you could use a small onion if you like), into rings. Melt the two tablespoons of butter in the pan, and add the shallots. Cook them at medium heat, until they brown. Spread them around the pan. Take it off the heat, add the couscous/cheese/egg mixture, and spread it evenly in the pan. Put it in your oven, for 8 minutes until you get this wonderfully brown and crunchy topping.
PROTECT YOUR HANDS, and take the pan out of the oven. It should slide right out. If it doesn't, then flip it into a plate, or just leave it there and use plastic when you cut slices of it.
Annalena believes you will all see the wonderful versatility of this, but to be honest, she stole a quick slice to eat with nothing. It is like a couscous frittata, and as a friend of Annalena's once said "when you bring together cheese, and a frying pan, what can be wrong?" Indeed.
So, ragazzi, get some good quality cheese. Change it up if you like: fontina and mozzarella come to mind, as do some of the soft goat cheeses. Add leftovers if they seem right. But make this. And try not to be greedy. Annalena gave half of this to her hard work political pal Laura, and she and the Guyman ate the rest.
Ratatouille coming up. This one may replace Annalena's standing recipe for it.
Well, she once described couscous as "the basic black dress" of the kitchen. I am CERTAIN that 95% of the blog's readership knows exactly what she means, when she speaks of "the basic black dress." To those four straight men who (i) read this and (ii) have no female or gay male friends, when one speaks of "the basic black dress," this is the fundamental piece of clothing which you spend money on, to get a very good quality. It is "simple," although we prefer to say "elegant." Then, as need be, you accessorize, ornament, or otherwise add to the basic item, as need be.
Such is the case with couscous in the kitchen. It is a WONDERFUL thing to have: easy to cook, easy to eat, and it goes with EVERYTHING. For those of you who have never made couscous, one wonders why you are reading this blog. But here's how you do it: you put it in a pot. You cover it with water, with about half an inch over it. Then you heat it up, turn off the heat, cover it, and go away. Five minutes later, you have your couscous. Add salt if you like (to the water), or use broth. Add butter. Add milk and sugar, add whatever you like. Put whatever you like on it. Stir herbs into it.
You all get the picture, yes? And you can get whole wheat varieties (worth trying), flavored varieties (not), and organic ones (Annalena does not see the difference).
Recently, she read a recipe entitled "couscous galette," which was intriguing, to say the least. Reading through the recipe, Annalena saw places to make changes, as she always does. She and the Guyman ate this last night with their seared tuna and ratatouile (and you are going to get a new ratatouille recipe soon), and it was AMAZING. You can make this. You should make this. You WILL make this. And here we go.
First, you need a nonstick pan that is oven safe. You should have this already. You also need couscous which, you can make fresh, or use leftover (Annalena made couscous earlier in the week, and stored the extra, as she always does). You will also need 2 tablespoons of butter (which halves the amount called for in the original recipe), a large shallot or two , 3 large eggs, and 8 ounces of gruyere, or some other melting cheese. First, turn your oven to the broiler setting, and make sure the oven rack is about 6-8 inches from the heat source.
Now, do the hardest thing you will do for this recipe: grate the cheese. Put it all in a bowl with the 3 eggs, and mix it up. Add to that, three cups of cooked couscous. (the original called for 2. Three is good). Taste it and correct for salt, if need be.
Now, slice the shallots (you could use a small onion if you like), into rings. Melt the two tablespoons of butter in the pan, and add the shallots. Cook them at medium heat, until they brown. Spread them around the pan. Take it off the heat, add the couscous/cheese/egg mixture, and spread it evenly in the pan. Put it in your oven, for 8 minutes until you get this wonderfully brown and crunchy topping.
PROTECT YOUR HANDS, and take the pan out of the oven. It should slide right out. If it doesn't, then flip it into a plate, or just leave it there and use plastic when you cut slices of it.
Annalena believes you will all see the wonderful versatility of this, but to be honest, she stole a quick slice to eat with nothing. It is like a couscous frittata, and as a friend of Annalena's once said "when you bring together cheese, and a frying pan, what can be wrong?" Indeed.
So, ragazzi, get some good quality cheese. Change it up if you like: fontina and mozzarella come to mind, as do some of the soft goat cheeses. Add leftovers if they seem right. But make this. And try not to be greedy. Annalena gave half of this to her hard work political pal Laura, and she and the Guyman ate the rest.
Ratatouille coming up. This one may replace Annalena's standing recipe for it.
Monday, September 10, 2012
Going, going... blueberry breakfast cake
Fall approaches, ragazzi. One sign of it, is when the blueberries become scarce at the farmers' market, and that is in fact what is going, going here. Annalena did not buy blueberries on Saturday since she KNEW one of her favorite vendors would be there on Monday, selling the babes.
Well, they weren't. Other farms have "shot their loads" so to speak. If you have been a good ant (you know the tale of the grasshopper and the ant, don't you? Look it up if you don't), you have some frozen away, in case you can't get anymore. But if you don't.... well, this is a recipe which Annalena chose to follow up on her "tag, you're it" substitution remarks last time around.
Many people claim they do not bake because it is too precise: more a science than an art, and they HATE science. Well, to a certain extent, baking IS precise. If you put too much, or too little, or the wrong thing in your recipe, your baked goods will not form, or will taste terrible.
Someone tell Annalena how that is different from any other form of cooking? Sounds similar to her. So, NONE of you have an excuse not to bake. Even if you don't have blueberries because, as la strega is about to show you, there are multitudes of variations on a recipe like this. It is, however, really, REALLY good in its original form. Even Annalena liked it, and she is not a big fan of cakes.
Here we go. This is a cake that features not one, but TWO different "layers" but baked in the cake at the same time. So this is how we go. To make the first "filling," mix together 3 tablespoons of white sugar, and a tablespoon of cinnamon. Now, here's where you can make your first substitution. Let us assume that you do not have cinnamon in house (HUH???). OR, let us assume, more accurately, one would hope, you are looking for something a bit more dramatic than the standard cinnamon streussel kind of coffee cake. Well, change to ground nutmeg. Or chinese five spice powder. Or ginger. Or whatever you like. BUT.... and this is probably where people get off the baking horse: many of these spices are stronger than cinnamon. So cut back the quantity. A tablespoon is a LOT of spice (don't eyeball: measure. You will be SHOCKED). You can probably keep the quantity of dried ginger the same, but it's a close call. Other spices should be cut back.
Anyway, put this aside, while we make streussel.
Oh, is this easy. And fun. You need to put half a cup of unbleached white flour in a bowl, with 1/4 cup of brown sugar. The recipe called for dark. You can use light. You can use demarara or turbinado. You can use anything you like. Then add a half teaspoon of salt, and 1/4 cup of toasted chopped nuts. Or not. Annalena used pecans. Use walnuts if you like. Or pistachios. Or, if you are allergic or adverse to nuts, leave them out. Finally, 3 tablespoons of cold, unsalted butter cut up into small cubes (you can even use salted butter. Then, however, leave the salt out). Put all of this in a bowl, and use the tips of your fingers to "cut" the butter into the dry ingredients, until you have an uneven set of crumbs. You do not want uniformity here. Just get it put together. And put that bowl aside, and wash your hands.
Get your oven going to 350, while we mix up the batter. You need 1.5 cups of flour, and if you have it a tablespoon of corn meal (gives a nice mouthfeel to the cake, but not required). Then, use a half teaspoon each of baking powder and baking soda. Purists will raise their eyelids when Annalena writes this, but if you only have one of these, use a teaspoon of it. It's going to be fine. Mix this together, with 3/4 cup of sugar. And again, put this aside.
Now, you need soft butter. 6 tablespoons, please (so you've used a total of one stick plus a tablespoon from that chunk in your butter dish that just isn't being used). Again, unsalted is called for, but if you only have salted, leave the salt out of the flour and use what you have. Mix this in a bowl with half a teaspoon of vanilla extract (or more. Or almond. Or lemon. Or orange. Or whatever you like), and 2 large eggs. You can use a mixer, but truth to be told, if your butter is nice and soft, you will have a good deal of satisfaction from working this until it achieves a "whipped" look.
Now, we get to the buttermilk. DOn't have buttermilk? Well, you can make it by adding a teaspoon or up to a tablespoon of white vinegar, or lemon juice, to a cup of plain whole milk and letting it sit for 15 minutes or so (this is what we call "clabbered" milk. NOT "clobbered milk, as Annalena's cousin used to call it). But if you don't have that, or you happen to be awash in yogurt, as Annalena usually is, use that. The new Greek yogurts are thick enough that you can use nonfat yogurt. She does recommend, however, that you thin it a bit with some milk, or even water if you have nothing else around. If you have no milk or yogurt in the house, you could go to mascarpone, or creme fraiche. Keep this aside.
My, my my. We have lots of stuff at the side, don't we? Well, here's the final one: 2 cups of blueberries. Fresh if you have them, frozen if you don't (the original recipe said if you had frozen, you should thaw them. DON'T DO THIS UNLESS YOU LIKE UGLY CAKE). If you don't have blue, use black. Or rasp. Or straw. Or huckle. Or boysen. And so on, and so forth. You could probably even use cut up sour cherries (no pits, puleeeeeze).
Let's make our cake. Get that butter egg mixture, and tart adding the flour and dairy, alternately. Recipes like this always tell you to start with the flour and end with it too. Well, ok, if you're careful enough to keep back enough to make it work. Annalena never is. You're supposed to do three portions of dry, which would mean dry/wet/dry/wet/dry. Annalena usually winds up doing dry/wet/dry. It doesn't seem to make a difference.
Get a baking pan. 8 inches. Or 9. Round. Or square. Grease it. Grease it well.
Now, spread half of your cake batter in the pan. Get a spatula to smooth it as well as possible, but again, no need to be surgical. Get that sugar spice and everything nice mix you made, and sprinkle that over the first half of the batter. Now, the second half of the batter please, and again, no need to be psychotic about smoothing it out. Toss the berries over the cake batter. And now cover them with the streussel.
Put this all in the oven for about an hour. Start checking after 45 minutes because sometimes these cakes go faster than you expect, but be prepared to go for as long as an hour and a quarter, because sometimes, they go slow.
And it's beautiful when it comes out of the oven. No need to refrigerate it if you're going to finish it all in 2-3 days. You will. Eat it for breakfast with coffee. Or at lunch, with milk. Or at dinner, with espresso. Or sweet wine.
See, ragazzi, the possibilities are endless. As Madonna says "use your imagination that's what it's for."
Well, they weren't. Other farms have "shot their loads" so to speak. If you have been a good ant (you know the tale of the grasshopper and the ant, don't you? Look it up if you don't), you have some frozen away, in case you can't get anymore. But if you don't.... well, this is a recipe which Annalena chose to follow up on her "tag, you're it" substitution remarks last time around.
Many people claim they do not bake because it is too precise: more a science than an art, and they HATE science. Well, to a certain extent, baking IS precise. If you put too much, or too little, or the wrong thing in your recipe, your baked goods will not form, or will taste terrible.
Someone tell Annalena how that is different from any other form of cooking? Sounds similar to her. So, NONE of you have an excuse not to bake. Even if you don't have blueberries because, as la strega is about to show you, there are multitudes of variations on a recipe like this. It is, however, really, REALLY good in its original form. Even Annalena liked it, and she is not a big fan of cakes.
Here we go. This is a cake that features not one, but TWO different "layers" but baked in the cake at the same time. So this is how we go. To make the first "filling," mix together 3 tablespoons of white sugar, and a tablespoon of cinnamon. Now, here's where you can make your first substitution. Let us assume that you do not have cinnamon in house (HUH???). OR, let us assume, more accurately, one would hope, you are looking for something a bit more dramatic than the standard cinnamon streussel kind of coffee cake. Well, change to ground nutmeg. Or chinese five spice powder. Or ginger. Or whatever you like. BUT.... and this is probably where people get off the baking horse: many of these spices are stronger than cinnamon. So cut back the quantity. A tablespoon is a LOT of spice (don't eyeball: measure. You will be SHOCKED). You can probably keep the quantity of dried ginger the same, but it's a close call. Other spices should be cut back.
Anyway, put this aside, while we make streussel.
Oh, is this easy. And fun. You need to put half a cup of unbleached white flour in a bowl, with 1/4 cup of brown sugar. The recipe called for dark. You can use light. You can use demarara or turbinado. You can use anything you like. Then add a half teaspoon of salt, and 1/4 cup of toasted chopped nuts. Or not. Annalena used pecans. Use walnuts if you like. Or pistachios. Or, if you are allergic or adverse to nuts, leave them out. Finally, 3 tablespoons of cold, unsalted butter cut up into small cubes (you can even use salted butter. Then, however, leave the salt out). Put all of this in a bowl, and use the tips of your fingers to "cut" the butter into the dry ingredients, until you have an uneven set of crumbs. You do not want uniformity here. Just get it put together. And put that bowl aside, and wash your hands.
Get your oven going to 350, while we mix up the batter. You need 1.5 cups of flour, and if you have it a tablespoon of corn meal (gives a nice mouthfeel to the cake, but not required). Then, use a half teaspoon each of baking powder and baking soda. Purists will raise their eyelids when Annalena writes this, but if you only have one of these, use a teaspoon of it. It's going to be fine. Mix this together, with 3/4 cup of sugar. And again, put this aside.
Now, you need soft butter. 6 tablespoons, please (so you've used a total of one stick plus a tablespoon from that chunk in your butter dish that just isn't being used). Again, unsalted is called for, but if you only have salted, leave the salt out of the flour and use what you have. Mix this in a bowl with half a teaspoon of vanilla extract (or more. Or almond. Or lemon. Or orange. Or whatever you like), and 2 large eggs. You can use a mixer, but truth to be told, if your butter is nice and soft, you will have a good deal of satisfaction from working this until it achieves a "whipped" look.
Now, we get to the buttermilk. DOn't have buttermilk? Well, you can make it by adding a teaspoon or up to a tablespoon of white vinegar, or lemon juice, to a cup of plain whole milk and letting it sit for 15 minutes or so (this is what we call "clabbered" milk. NOT "clobbered milk, as Annalena's cousin used to call it). But if you don't have that, or you happen to be awash in yogurt, as Annalena usually is, use that. The new Greek yogurts are thick enough that you can use nonfat yogurt. She does recommend, however, that you thin it a bit with some milk, or even water if you have nothing else around. If you have no milk or yogurt in the house, you could go to mascarpone, or creme fraiche. Keep this aside.
My, my my. We have lots of stuff at the side, don't we? Well, here's the final one: 2 cups of blueberries. Fresh if you have them, frozen if you don't (the original recipe said if you had frozen, you should thaw them. DON'T DO THIS UNLESS YOU LIKE UGLY CAKE). If you don't have blue, use black. Or rasp. Or straw. Or huckle. Or boysen. And so on, and so forth. You could probably even use cut up sour cherries (no pits, puleeeeeze).
Let's make our cake. Get that butter egg mixture, and tart adding the flour and dairy, alternately. Recipes like this always tell you to start with the flour and end with it too. Well, ok, if you're careful enough to keep back enough to make it work. Annalena never is. You're supposed to do three portions of dry, which would mean dry/wet/dry/wet/dry. Annalena usually winds up doing dry/wet/dry. It doesn't seem to make a difference.
Get a baking pan. 8 inches. Or 9. Round. Or square. Grease it. Grease it well.
Now, spread half of your cake batter in the pan. Get a spatula to smooth it as well as possible, but again, no need to be surgical. Get that sugar spice and everything nice mix you made, and sprinkle that over the first half of the batter. Now, the second half of the batter please, and again, no need to be psychotic about smoothing it out. Toss the berries over the cake batter. And now cover them with the streussel.
Put this all in the oven for about an hour. Start checking after 45 minutes because sometimes these cakes go faster than you expect, but be prepared to go for as long as an hour and a quarter, because sometimes, they go slow.
And it's beautiful when it comes out of the oven. No need to refrigerate it if you're going to finish it all in 2-3 days. You will. Eat it for breakfast with coffee. Or at lunch, with milk. Or at dinner, with espresso. Or sweet wine.
See, ragazzi, the possibilities are endless. As Madonna says "use your imagination that's what it's for."
Sunday, September 9, 2012
Chutney lately: Peach and ginger chutney (for Emily)
Ragazzi, if you recognize the reference in the title, an extra biscotto for you tonight. Yes, Annalena loves the Chelsea Lately show, which has absolutely nothing to do with this post, other than to give a clever title to it (or an attempt at a clever one).
This post is actually going to talk at some length, about substitutions. One of the reasons people do not cook, is because they go to the store, with a recipe in hand, eagerly planning to get their groceries, and "MAKE THE DISH.' Well, what happens if, for example, you have a recipe that calls for fresh figs, and it's February? Nope. Not going to happen. And let's say you CAN find the ingredient. Let's stay in February and you want to make this recipe. You will find peaches. You'll make the dish and you'll wonder why you bothered. Why? Because those peaches flew well over 3000 miles to get to your grocery store, they were not ripe when they were picked, and they will have no taste. So, knowing your seasons helps . But what about other factors? How can you make changes in a recipe, and still "get away" with it?
Ragazzi, it is really very simple. Think of it this way: if you have an ingredient in a recipe, but you cannot find it, what tastes like that ingredient? What cooks like it, if you have cooked before? For example, and we have discussed this before, you can almost alway substitute shrimp and scallops for each other. If you recipe calls for codfish, but you cannot find any, think of other firm, solid white fish. The recipe will work. Need fresh tuna and can't find any? Try swordfish.
In the vegetable category, it sometimes gets a bit trickier. There is probably no substitute for tomatoes, but you can substitute cherry or plum tomatoes for regular tomatoes, in just about anything. Celery and cucumber are almost always interchangeable too, in terms of texture and how they cook. (Do remember they taste different). Most greens can substitute for each other, if you remember that some take longer to cook than others. Can't find spinach? Use chard and cook it a bit longer. No chard? Try escarole. Striking out? Move to kale. Or collards. And with that, we've moved up the chart of what takes longer to cook. No green beans? Well, try some peas. No peas? How about fava beans?
It IS difficult to find a substitute for corn, and of course, the aformentioned tomatoes, and figs, probably have no substitute. You WILL find a recipe on this blog, however, where you can substitute fresh and dried figs for each other. If the recipe calls for long cooking, dry will replace fresh almost always.
In this case, we are looking at a stone fruit recipe. Peaches have that big hard pit in the center, the "stone." Hence, a stone fruit. You know the others: plums, nectarines, apricots, cherries. They will all substitute for the peaches in this recipe.
BUT... what if you want to make it in the winter? Any ideas? What looks a bit like a peach when it's sliced, has the same texture, and some of the same flavor notes? Anyone?
MANGOS. Yup. Just about anywhere you would use peaches, you can use mangos. And that's why this recipe is dedicated to Emily, Part I. See, Emily got Annalena's weight down. NO easy task. And Em eats a mango every day. Annalena eats her mangoes when she can't get local peaches, but Em, you can put mango in this instead.
Part II for Em: take a look at this recipe, and see what's missing. Here's a hint: Ms. E. is ALWAYS looking for easy, healthy recipes. And if you make something like this, you can take something that you may very well (with reason), think is going to have little flavor or be boring. Like a baked chicken breast . Or a piece of plain white fish. And when you are trying to lose weight, and eat healthy, these are very, VERY important things to consider. Of course, the recipe is good as it is, and if you wanted to, say, put it on a pork chop, who's to stop you (sorry, Emily). But anyway, here we go. Annalena guarantees, this will not take long.
You need 3/4 pound of peaches, or plums or mangos, etc. If the peel is objectionable, peel the fruit. You will have to do this with mangos, should do it with peaches, and not with anything else. Cut the fruit up into cubes, not worrying about surgical refinement. Also chop one large shallot. And get a BIG piece of ginger: three inches or so. Peel it, and cut it into four, really big chunks.
Know what? With the exception of salt, pepper and water, you have all your ingredients. Put the fruit, the shallot, and the ginger into a small pot. Add a tablespoon of water, and a smidgen of salt. Bring this to a boil, then lower the heat to a very low simmer, cover the pot, and let it cook for twenty minutes.
The onions will carmelize some, the fruit will soften, and the ginger will do its magic. And you have... CHUTNEY. And does anyone know what's not here?
No fat ragazzi. Yes, indeed. A natural, fat free goody. You'll have about a healthy cup of this when you're done, and then use it as you wish. And if you like it, make a bigger batch. It will keep unrefrigerated for a day or so, but forever in the fridge.
Ms. Em, Annalena owes you much. Here's a bit of payment
This post is actually going to talk at some length, about substitutions. One of the reasons people do not cook, is because they go to the store, with a recipe in hand, eagerly planning to get their groceries, and "MAKE THE DISH.' Well, what happens if, for example, you have a recipe that calls for fresh figs, and it's February? Nope. Not going to happen. And let's say you CAN find the ingredient. Let's stay in February and you want to make this recipe. You will find peaches. You'll make the dish and you'll wonder why you bothered. Why? Because those peaches flew well over 3000 miles to get to your grocery store, they were not ripe when they were picked, and they will have no taste. So, knowing your seasons helps . But what about other factors? How can you make changes in a recipe, and still "get away" with it?
Ragazzi, it is really very simple. Think of it this way: if you have an ingredient in a recipe, but you cannot find it, what tastes like that ingredient? What cooks like it, if you have cooked before? For example, and we have discussed this before, you can almost alway substitute shrimp and scallops for each other. If you recipe calls for codfish, but you cannot find any, think of other firm, solid white fish. The recipe will work. Need fresh tuna and can't find any? Try swordfish.
In the vegetable category, it sometimes gets a bit trickier. There is probably no substitute for tomatoes, but you can substitute cherry or plum tomatoes for regular tomatoes, in just about anything. Celery and cucumber are almost always interchangeable too, in terms of texture and how they cook. (Do remember they taste different). Most greens can substitute for each other, if you remember that some take longer to cook than others. Can't find spinach? Use chard and cook it a bit longer. No chard? Try escarole. Striking out? Move to kale. Or collards. And with that, we've moved up the chart of what takes longer to cook. No green beans? Well, try some peas. No peas? How about fava beans?
It IS difficult to find a substitute for corn, and of course, the aformentioned tomatoes, and figs, probably have no substitute. You WILL find a recipe on this blog, however, where you can substitute fresh and dried figs for each other. If the recipe calls for long cooking, dry will replace fresh almost always.
In this case, we are looking at a stone fruit recipe. Peaches have that big hard pit in the center, the "stone." Hence, a stone fruit. You know the others: plums, nectarines, apricots, cherries. They will all substitute for the peaches in this recipe.
BUT... what if you want to make it in the winter? Any ideas? What looks a bit like a peach when it's sliced, has the same texture, and some of the same flavor notes? Anyone?
MANGOS. Yup. Just about anywhere you would use peaches, you can use mangos. And that's why this recipe is dedicated to Emily, Part I. See, Emily got Annalena's weight down. NO easy task. And Em eats a mango every day. Annalena eats her mangoes when she can't get local peaches, but Em, you can put mango in this instead.
Part II for Em: take a look at this recipe, and see what's missing. Here's a hint: Ms. E. is ALWAYS looking for easy, healthy recipes. And if you make something like this, you can take something that you may very well (with reason), think is going to have little flavor or be boring. Like a baked chicken breast . Or a piece of plain white fish. And when you are trying to lose weight, and eat healthy, these are very, VERY important things to consider. Of course, the recipe is good as it is, and if you wanted to, say, put it on a pork chop, who's to stop you (sorry, Emily). But anyway, here we go. Annalena guarantees, this will not take long.
You need 3/4 pound of peaches, or plums or mangos, etc. If the peel is objectionable, peel the fruit. You will have to do this with mangos, should do it with peaches, and not with anything else. Cut the fruit up into cubes, not worrying about surgical refinement. Also chop one large shallot. And get a BIG piece of ginger: three inches or so. Peel it, and cut it into four, really big chunks.
Know what? With the exception of salt, pepper and water, you have all your ingredients. Put the fruit, the shallot, and the ginger into a small pot. Add a tablespoon of water, and a smidgen of salt. Bring this to a boil, then lower the heat to a very low simmer, cover the pot, and let it cook for twenty minutes.
The onions will carmelize some, the fruit will soften, and the ginger will do its magic. And you have... CHUTNEY. And does anyone know what's not here?
No fat ragazzi. Yes, indeed. A natural, fat free goody. You'll have about a healthy cup of this when you're done, and then use it as you wish. And if you like it, make a bigger batch. It will keep unrefrigerated for a day or so, but forever in the fridge.
Ms. Em, Annalena owes you much. Here's a bit of payment
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