Wednesday, October 24, 2012

Baked ziti for Annalena's galpal Debra B

Ragazzi,  along the history of this blog you have read of  Annalena's obsession with her weight, then her period of time with the "Tiny Beast," Ms. Emily, and now, her time with the Paraguayan pummeler, Sebastian.  It does work.  She urges all of you who are thinking about it, to do it:  get to a gym, and do something.  Don't think "it's not enough," because whatever it is, it is more than you would be doing sitting on the sofa.

In the course of her gym exploits, Annalena has made a group of friends, one of whom is the aforementioned Debra B.  Amici, if you could see how the lovely Ms. D. has TRANSFORMED herself with the work she has done.  Annalena is jealous.  Once, the poster child of the local gym, she has been supplanted by this upstart Ms. B.

BRAVISSIMA RAGAZZA!!!!  If there were one person to whom Annalena would gladly turn over the reigns of power, it is to you, mia fratellina. 

So, when Debra asked Annalena "how do you make a good pan of baked ziti," there was no way to act other than to post it for ALL of you to see. 

NOT for all of you to EAT.  Debra B and I are going to eat this.  For the rest of you:  As Rupaul once said  "You better WERK."

Ok, baked ziti.  First, some geeky cultural history here.  Baked ziti are Italian American.  They are NOT Italian.  The only authentic  "pasta al forno "  (baked pasta) dishes  which Annalena is aware of are lasagna and canneloni.  (NOT manicotti mind you..)  The origins of baked ziti are not clear.  One rather clever one works off of the idea that "zito," in Italian, is a bridegroom.  So, one would serve a large pan of these at a wedding supper, and since the dish is relatively easy to prepare, the bridegroom would make it.

Yet another plays off of slang which has "a box of ziti" to mean 1,000.  Serving a pan of baked ziti is to indicated wealth.

Well, whatever.  Choose your stories, but let's cook.  Ultimately, this is an easy dish if you make it correctly.  And even though you CAN substitute just about any pasta you would like for this,  somehow, ziti feel more comforting and more tasty.  In fact, Annalena is thinking she may make these herself.

Let us proceed.  We need sauce first, and what could be easier than Marcella Hazan's basic tomato?  That recipe is here, but let's review it.  Two large cans of tomatoes.  If they are whole, crush them with your hands.  If they are already broken up, pour them directly into a large pot.    Now take an onion, and from the top, make a vertical cut.  Then, make one 90 degrees to the first, but do not cut all the way through.  You want the onion to stay together if possible.  Remove the skin, put the onion in with the tomatoes and then add 1.5 sticks of unsalted butter.  Turn the heat to AS LOW AS POSSIBLE,  and let it cook for at least an hour, preferably an hour and a half.  When the liquid has reduced by about 1/4-1/3 (or even more), you are done.  Season it with salt and if you happen to have some fresh basil on hand, in it goes.

So you will have an hour and a half to do other things.  You won't need all of that time.  What you will need, is cheese.  Mozzarella is traditional and, to Annalena's taste, the best.  But you can use fontina, or smoked mozzarella, or any other melting cheese.  If you are not sure if the cheese would melt, ask your cheese monger.  And if s/he doesn't know, find another one.    We will assume you are using fiore di latte mozzarella, which is cow's milk cheese, and rather firm.  Cut the cheese (12 ounces of it), into cubes.  Put them aside, as you ponder whether to do things like add peas, or cooked sausage, or cooked ham, or anything else in the dish.  Annalena prefers it as simple as possible, but has been known to take the one left over cup of ricotta and add it to the cubed cheese, and/or to add a cup or so of green peas.  This is your call, as will be much in this recipe.

As the sauce nears the end of its time, preheat your oven to 375 and get a big pot of water boiling.  Add plenty of salt (at least a tablespoon), and pour in one pound of dried ziti.  Cover the pot part of the way to help bring the water back to a boil faster, but do NOT cover it completely.  "Pasta needs to dance" as Lidia says, and so it does.  When the water comes to a boil, stir the pasta, and do so periodically, for ten minutes.

Ten minutes is not long enough to cook the pasta completely, which is fine because... you're going to bake it.  Remember? 

Perhaps the biggest complaint that people have about baked pasta dishes is that they are too dry.  Annalena thinks this is from the use of pans that are too big.  This dish would seem to call for a 9x13 inch pan, and it will indeed fill it.  And you will get dried out pasta.  So use smaller dishes - perhaps a 9x9 and an 8x8, or two of each .   Drain the pasta, and now put enough sauce into the bottom of the baking dishes, to cover them with a thin layer.  Scoop out two cups of the sauce into a big bowl, and then toss everything into the sauce.  Stir it well to distribute it, and plop it into your pans.  Then, spoon a little more sauce over the top of each.  Cover each pan with foil, and put them in the oven for 30 minutes.

You cover the pans with foil, to facilitate the cheese melting, and the pasta cooking in the steam of the dish.  After 30 minutes, take the foil off, and notice how the melted cheese sticks a bit.  This is what you want.  Now, raise the heat to 425, and bake for another fifteen minutes.  This gives you some crunchiness.

ONLY after you've finished this, and the pans are steaming on your counter begging to be eaten, sprinkle on some parmesan or pecorino.  You do this at the end because, otherwise, the grated cheese will burn.


And that, ladies and gentlemen, is how Annalena does it.

Debra B.  je t'ame, ti amo, te amo, wo ai ni, and anything else you want.  Make it this weekend, and give someone a big, gravy splotchy kiss. 

Saturday, October 20, 2012

Deception in a cake: fresh plum cake

Ragazzi, it is the end of the season for our berries and stone fruit friends.  Time to say  "see you next year."  And sometimes, one may feel they have outworn their welcome.  For plums, for example, Annalena has been decidedly disappointed in what she has been buying:  rather than having a "plummy" flavor, they have been like little sacks of sugar water.  Indeed, the most recent bag she bought, spending nearly 10 bucks on it, was so insipid that she almost tossed it.

BUT... frugal girl that she is,  Annalena waited, and found a recipe in her beloved New York Times that saved the day.  Or, at least some of the remaining plums.  And it yet again establishes a basic principle of cookery:  cooking fruit will intensify its flavor.  You can see this very simply, by tasting apple sauce, and a fresh apple.  Both are wonderful.  One is stronger than the other.

Annalena also loves recipes like the one that follows because they are easy and because the good cook will see immediately how this recipe can be changed.  And indeed, Annalena wants you to use different fruit, different spices, different add ins, AND SHE WANTS YOU TO TELL HER ABOUT IT SO SHE CAN STEAL THE RECIPE.    After all, t here's a little thievery going on out there, too, isn't there?  Hmmmm?

Nah, all recipe sharing is just that: sharing.

So, onto the recipe, and why the word "deception?"  Well, there are two ingredients in this cake that spell "HEALTHY":  whole wheat flour and rolled oats.  Do not be deceived, amici.  Just like with oatmeal cookies, this is NOT good for you.  Moderation.  But enjoy it.  And make it because it makes so much, you will want to share it.

Cominiciamo.  This works so much better in a food processor, so here we go.    You put a cup of white flour and one of whole wheat  into that machine, together with two teaspoons of baking powder, and half of salt and a quarter cup (yes, just a quarter cup) of sugar.  Then you pulse it a few times.  Now, add six tablespoons of cold, unsalted butter to it, and pulse some more until you get a grainy texture. 

Stop for a minute while you get out a one cup mixing cup.  Add two eggs to that, and break them up.  Now add a couple teaspoons of vanilla extract.  Top it off with whole milk. Add the whole to your dry ingredients, and let the machine do its thing.  You will get something that looks like very thick pancake batter.

Get yourself a non metal, 9x13 inch baking dish, and grease it.  Pour out, or scoop out the batter, and spread it as well as you can.  You can wet your hands to do this.  It makes it easier.  When you have it about as well spread as you can, get some plums.  Cut them into wedges of whatever size you like, and press them down, skin side into the cake batter.  The pressing down will move the batter some more, too.  Next, put half a cup of rolled oats over the whole thing. Now, get a half cup of sugar, and mix it with a teaspoon of cinnamon and half a teaspoon of ground cardamom (unless you are Jeremy, the king of cardamom.  Then use a full teaspoon).  Sprinkle this over the fruit and cake and finally, get another six tablespoons of unsalted butter, and break it into little bits, all over everything.  

Do all of you see how you can change the fruit, and change the spices?  Do you see also that you might want to add candied ginger, or chocolate chips, or nuts, or dried cranberries, or raisins, to the batter?

Annalena knew you did!  You've learned well.  Now, put this into the oven, preheated to 425, and bake it for 20-25 minutes.

You will get a very dark, carmelized cake that frankly, may not look very attractive to you.

Taste it.  As my people say  "brutti ma buoni."  (ugly, but good).  And a 9x13 inch pan?   You're not going to eat all of that are you?  No, you're going to share it with AT LEAST 11  friends.  Or eat it over the course of six days with one of yours.  And so on, and so forth.

Really easy, wasn't it?  Annalena INSTRUCTS  you all to make something like it immediately.  And she wants to know.

Remember,  she's watching.....

Wednesday, October 17, 2012

Yet MORE squash, and yet MORE ice cream: pumpkin ice cream

Well, no one has told Annalena that they are tired of her posts on winter squash.  And so, they continue.  See,  there is no such thing as "just a little" winter squash.  If you think of the "small" pumpkins as being 3-4 pounds, or recall the pictures of those hubbard squashes, etc, you will have a sense of what Annalena means here.  You cook one, and you have enough pulp for many applications.  And of course, Annalena turned to ice cream.

Except there really wasn't an "of course" about this.   Annalena has made pumpkin ice cream before, using the canned stuff.  And it's good. REALLY good.  It tastes like frozen  Thanksgiving, to be honest, but in a good way.  The spices, the thick feel of something like pumpkin pie, frozen, is certainly not a thing to be ignored.

But.... recall her remarks in prior blogs, about the difference between the fresh stuff and the canned stuff?  Well, so it was with the ice cream.  Annalena must say that this version, with the fresh pumpkin, was revelatory.  Perhaps she will try it again, to use up some left over hubbard squash, or perhaps she will cook down another pumpkin and then do things like gnocchi or ravioli, and so forth. One never knows with Annalena.  But what one DOES know is, the girl can make ice cream.  So for all of you with the machines, here we go.

If you have made an ice cream before, you will find this ridiculously easy.  If you haven't, you will wonder why you aren't making ice cream more.  You do have to have some fresh cooked pineapple, so scroll back in this on going "salute to squash," and read how to cook it.  After you have cooled it, scraped it, and pureed it, measure out a scant cup of the stuff, and put it aside.  That is all you will need.  So look at the other recipes, for other things to do.

You will also need a pint of heavy cream, a cup of whole milk, a full 3/4 cup of white sugar, 6 large egg yolks, and a teaspoon each, of cinnamon and ginger.

Annalena is going light on the spices here, because the taste of the pumpkin is delicate.  You can increase the quantities, or add nutmeg or other flavors.  But try this first. 

You have all your ingredients, yes?  Now put them all, at the same time, into a pot that will hold at least 3 times the volume of  your ingredients.  Get your whisk, put the heat to medium low, and... whisk.  Whisk until you get a custard.  Admittedly, ragazzi, this last set of instructions is difficult.  When you have experience, you will see the change:  the glossy look of the stuff in your pot, the thickening.  Or, you can do the wooden spoon trick:  put a spoon into what you're making, pull it out, and draw a line down the middle with your finger.  If the milk doesn't come back and fill the space, you've got custard.  And err on the undercooked side here.

Pour this all out into a bowl, and let it cool down to room temperature.  Then, refrigerate it until it is very cold.

And now, as we say   "to everything, churn, churn, churn."  Put it into your machine, and let her rip.

The taste , to Annalena, was sort of like pumpkin eggnog, which is interesting since eggnog has nutmeg in it, and this does not.  But it's pretty darn terrific.    And if you have a sizeable pumpkin , you will have sufficient puree to give you no excuse not to make a second quart.  And you will be glad you did.

Annalena may very well be regaling you next, or soon, with her last plum cake of the season.  It proves to be a good one. Stay tuned, and stay in the kitchen.

BACI

Monday, October 15, 2012

The squash parade continues: hubbard and spaghetti squash pancakes

Ragazzi, fall continues, and an interesting fall it has been.  "Interesting" is not always good, as Annalena is sure you agree.  Her interesting week, has been "interesting" in ways both good and bad.  Shall we let that suffice to explain the one week departure from these pages?

In the market today, Annalena picked up heirloom tomatoes,  raspberries , fresh ginger (always a sign that the summer is ending), and marveled, as she always does this time of year, at the extent and variety of winter squashes.    They are so much fun and while their flavors are somewhat similar, they are not identical, and it is sometimes fun (especially if you are a food nerd), to "compare and contrast," which is what we are going to do today as we learn to make something a bit off the beaten track:  squash pancakes .

You have seen Hubbard squashes before.  These are the monsters of the squash world, and perhaps the oddest one of all is the "blue hubbard."  It is, indeed, a blue squash:




Looks a bit like a group of sea lions basking, doesn't it?  Annalena had avoided them, because they are so massive, and because they look as if they are extremely difficult to work with.
As Julia Child once said  "a good cook learns something new every day."  Annalena learned, she was wrong on these assumptions.  The skins of those squash, for example, look much more fearsome than they are  (sort of like... fill in the blank).  This is a good thing, because cooking a whole Hubbard squash, without cutting it open, is asking for trouble.   So, get yourself a good carving knife.  Perhaps you will want to cut off the blossom end (the one that looks like a Sea Lion nose), to stand things easily, and  then cut the beast into smaller pieces.   Try to get them the same size, but scientific precision is not necessary.  Put them, cut side UP (or, skin side down), on a baking sheet, and cover it with tin foil.  Put the baking sheet in a preheated 400 degree oven, and check , after 30 minutes, by inserting a knife into the squash.  If it is tender, you are done.  If it is not, come back in fifteen minutes.  By an hour, they will be ready.

Please let these cool down.  Hot squash is nasty.  What you will find with the hubbard squash is that the flesh is very firm, almost like a butternut squash, and not at all like pumpkin (Indeed, the Guyman remarked on how similar they looked to canned pumpkin, and how we had learned that you CAN call a blue hubbard squash a pumkin, under FDA rules.  Hmmmm). 

When the squash is cool,  scrape away the flesh from the skin, which will now be remarkably soft.  It will be a bit grainy, and if you so desire, puree it in a food processor.  It is not necessary for the recipe which follows.    You will need one cup of the squash puree.  Put the rest away.  Freeze it if you like. We will be doing many other things with this as the fall and winter go by.

Spaghetti squashes, are much smaller:



Annalena likes this picture because it shows you how the meat comes out of the monster.  A BIG spaghetti squash is perhaps 2.5 pounds.  These do NOT keep well - the skin is very sensitive - so use them now.    You prepare them exactly the same way that you prepare the Hubbard squash, but you will need less cooking time.

In each case, ragazzi, toss the junk with the seeds in it.  Yes, we can recover them, but none of us have the time.

So, let's make our fritters.  Or pancakes.  You have tremendous variation here, as Annalena learned.  You will need eggs.  For a cup of squash, plan on two large eggs.  And salt to taste.  Mix these together, and now, add your "binder," and here's where we have fun.

For her spaghetti squash pancakes, Annalena was planning on plain old flour, to make sure that delicate flavor of the squash came through.  And indeed it did.  As she was having her hair cut by the fantabulous Ray, the conversation turned to food, and she learned that Ray's better half uses crushed corn flakes when she makes vegetable fritters.

Hmmmm.  Now, Annalena will get into trouble here, but here we go. Ray and his wife are of the Orthodox Jewish faith.  Think latkes.  Think good cooking with fried things.   "You learn something new every day."    So, since she still had cornflakes left over from her adventure in oven fried tomatoes (which she will make again), why not?  She whizzed these in a food processor to crumble them to a powder, and then, mixed them in with the hubbard squash, egg, and salt mixture.

Now, these are VERY basic batters.  You can add diced onion, other vegetables, seasonings (Ray and his wife love curry), but perhaps you should try them the first time just as they are. 

Get a big pan filled with about a quarter inch of vegetable oil, and get it hot.  You can tell if it's hot enough, by dropping half a teaspoon of your batter into the oil.  If it sizzles, and sets, you're ready.

Drop in SCANT quarter cup measures of the stuff.  The batter will spread, and anything bigger will take too long to cook, resulting in burnt exteriors, and uncooked centers.    Keep the heat at a medium flame, and LISTEN to the sizzle.  The pan will tell you when things are done:  the sizzle will become a crackle.  Then, flip them.  And listen again.  Have paper towels ready to drain them, and more oil, "just in case."  (You probably will need to add oil, at least once).

These are almost too good to share.  Annalena had to restrain herself from eating all of them.

They seem to cry out for sour cream, or apple sauce, or even a spicy salsa.  Try them plain, the first time.  And remember, you have plenty of puree left, and you will be able to make them again.  With other squashes too. Like pumpkin.  Or butternut.  Or even delicata, in which case, you don't even have to worry about getting rid of the skin.  Or acorn.   My my my,  if you are even more of a food geek than Annalena,  you can see the enormous possibilities.

Sunday, October 7, 2012

Greeting fall with sweet pumpkin bread

Ragazzi, if you have clicked on this blog entry, you have just participated in an experiment which Annalena is conducting.  She is trying to confirm something she thinks is the truth, and if she is right, as she always is, it is time we all 'fessed up.

She does not think there is a one of us out there who does not claim to want to eat healthier, and/or to eat more fruits and vegetables.  To be more adventurous in our cooking.    Is she right?

Well... it is an interesting bit of information that, without question, the heaviest "hits" on this blog, are for desserts.  There are a few exceptions. For example, every week, there are well over 50 hits on the blog for braciole.  But Annalena's last blog entries, on kohlrabi and quinces, are both in the single figures.

And if you've clicked on this, you've probably been part of the two dozen or so who will read it.  A sweet bread recipe (as compared to sweetbreads).

Hmmm.  What does that say about us collectively?  Discuss

Well, nonetheless, we go foward.  The temperature has dropped substantially, to the point where even Annalena's hot blood is cold, and she is pulling out sweaters and long sleeve turtlenecks.  And the hard skin squash - of which pumpkin a  member - abound.

You DID know that pumpkin is a squash, didn't you?  Yes, indeed it is.  And this is important to know because, ragazzi , it means that you can substitute the pulp of pumpkin with any of the winter squash, and vice versa (spaghetti squash may be an exception, but it is pretty much true).

This is of value to you, because pumpkin is a horror to cook.  It is difficult to cut, it is very wet and throws off tons of liquid when it cooks, and because the flesh is stringy, you usually have to puree it to use it in other things.  Yes, it is better than the canned stuff, but not THAT much better.    So if you are a stickler for doing things from scratch, a pumpkin can be daunting.  In this case, Annalena is giving you her cucinallean blessing to use the canned stuff.

Pumpkin bread is, like most of the breads which are based on vegetables (think zucchini, for example),  an oil bread.  We will be using neutral oil to make this, rather than butter.

This should NOT be taken as a signal that pumpkin bread is healthy.  It IS better for you than, say, an Oreo, but it is NOT to be taken as permission to not eat your vegetables, because you are getting them in your dessert.

See?  Annalena knows all of these tricks.  She's tried them, too.  But it is a good thing to make, and to have around.  And as we will see it admits of a tremendous amount of variation.

Cominciamo.

You will need a cup of vegetable oil:  canola, corn, soy, anything like that which has no flavor to it.  No olive oil here, please.  And 2.5 heaping cups of white sugar (so much for healthy, ragazzi).  Now, Annalena is going to use "heaping" again later for the flour.  That is because the recipe, as originally written, calls for 2 2/3 cup of sugar, and 3 1/3 cups of flour.    Most of us do not have measuring cups in the thirds; however,  2 2/3 cups of sugar is 2.67, while 2.5 is, well, 2.5. So, you are looking at about .12 difference.  If you heap the sugar in your measuring cup (so that you have a small mountain), you will have what you need for both.   

You may want to use the blender for this, as the batter is going to be heavy.  Mix up the sugar and oil together until they are well combined.  It is going to look a lot like heavy sand.  Not promising.  And it will not get moreso when you add four large eggs, one at a time until they are combined well.

Things begin to look more promising when you add the one pound can of pumpkin.  NOW things will begin to smooth out and look more even.  Could this work?

Well, yes, it can.  Now, turn off your mixer and add the 3 heaping cups of  flour, together with half a teaspoon of baking soda, and 2 full teaspoons of baking powder.  Also, it's time to spice your cake.  What do you like?  Annalena's original recipe called for nutmeg.  Annalena likes nutmeg, but with pumpkin, prefers ginger.  So a teaspoon of dried ginger here, and then, for fun, half a teaspoon of Chinese five spice powder.  She emphasizes, however, that you should use what you like: cinnamon, nutmeg, even curry powder are good. Cardamom?  Perhaps.  And so on. 

Combine all of this together until the flour disappears.  Now, it's GOODIES  time.  You can add, up to 2.5 additional cups of "goodies" to this recipe.  The orignal called for a cup of nuts and 1.5 cups of chocolate chips.  Fine, but Annalena likes the taste of pumpkin.  Too much stuff will kill the taste.  But she does like crunch.  So this recipe contains 1 cup of chopped pecans (Annalena's walnuts had gone rancid.  TIP: ALWAYS TASTE NUTS BEFORE YOU ADD THEM TO  SOMETHING YOU ARE COOKING, JUST IN CASE...).    Again, add what you like, but keep in mind that the more you add, the heavier the batter, and the less it will rise.

Preheat your oven to 350, and then grease two 8x4 pans.  These are bread pans, but not quick bread pans, which are 9x5.  The reason for the switch is to let the stuff rise more.  Divide the batter betwixt the two pans, put them in an oven, and wait.  This is going to take at least an hour, so do something else while you are waiting.  (Annalena made another cake, and did some Italian homework.  An hour should give you plenty of time to...).

The cake is ready when it kind of cracks at the top, and when you insert a knife, you do not get what is clearly unbaked cake on the edge.  If an hour is not sufficient, let it bake for longer.

Oil based cakes keep well, and are better tasting if you let them sit a day.  So do so. 

Note that if you prefer, you can make tons of muffins with this recipe. Just keep an eye and know that they will be ready in twenty minutes. Or, make two 9 or 8 inch layer cakes, and fill them with something like maple cream. 

Fall has "fallen."  Take advantage. We will be working with the produce of the autumn in days to come.  Use them, because winter is not too far away, and here, where the ground freezes,  local will be a memory all too soon

Friday, October 5, 2012

Brought to you by the letter Q: quince and bleu cheese salad

Ragazzi, Annalena LOVES quinces.  To her, they are one of the joys of the fall and winter.  They do not make their appearance until just about now, and they are at their best, for about six weeks.   At times, they bedevil her, as you will learn in this recipe.  When they work, they are wonderful.

You may have to go and google for pictures of quinces.  They are somewhat deceiving in appearance.  Take a look:




Looks like a big yellow apple doesn't it?  But if you bite into it, expecting that crisp apple flesh and that burst of sweet and sour juice, you will get bitterness, graininess, and probably a broken tooth.   Like lobsters, foie gras, and other wonderful things,  a prize should be given to whomever figured out how to deal with them. 

They say that quinces originated in Persia , but without question, if you want to know how to deal with them, ask an Armenian.  Indeed, that is just what Annalena did.  Well, sort of.  See, she had a stack of backed up copies of one of her favorite "foodie" magazines, and there was a longish article on quinces.  She read it while visiting with her friends Kevin and Chuck during her annual sojourn to South Hampton.  In the course of that article, she learned of a book written by an Armenian woman, who also had much to say about the quince in the article.  Now, Annalena has a stray recipe here and there for these kittens (they are also a darling of Ms. Waters, so they show up here and there), Peter Hoffman loves them,  and in  Annalena's extensive cookbook collection, she has a book she picked up in Switzerland on them  (incidentally, the word for quince in German is Kwitten.  Cotagna in Italian.  See how smart you'll get?)   She searched for the woman's book, found it in an on line used bookstore, and secured it.

The work is wonderful.  More ideas than you can shake a stick at for using these guys.l  They will be on Annalena's menu this fall and winter, and of course, you lucky readers will get them too.

The book gave as a "seminal" recipe, one for poaching quinces.  Indeed, in Annalena's experience, it is vital that you cook quinces for a while before you do anything else with them.  And the recipe seemed to accord with everything Annalena knew about cooking them:  peel, core, cut into half inch slices, get into a big pot of water , cook slow, and for a long, long time.  The recipe said 45 minutes, and commented that "even then, the quinces will be firm. 

Annalena thought nothing of this, because of her own experiences. So last weekend, after the busywork of  Saturday cooking was done , she did in fact take her two pounds of ripe quinces (sidebar:  when buying quinces, SMELL them.  They should have an exotic, fruity odor.  LOOK at them.  See that color above? You're looking for that bright yellow.  Green quinces, will never ripen. NEVER.  They will rot on your cabinet and leave very ugly marks on the wood from their acid. They will piss you off. You will vow never to use them again).

Yes, she writes from experience.  Ok, now, let's get our quinces peeled.  They peel like an apple, but now, the hard stuff begins, because quinces are... hard.   The smaller knife you use for an apple will not work here.  Get a big one.  Get ready to be strong, and cut them down the middle, lengthwise.  Now, put the cut sides down, and slice the halves into half inch slices or so.  Get a smaller knife and cut out the seedy core.

Work quickly here, ragazzi, they brown.  And now, get them in a pot with ample water.   Squeeze in half a lemon  (Annalena tosses the lemon peel in too), and add a stick of cinnamon.  No sugar for doing this.  Bring the pot to a boil, and let it then simmer slowly.

Remember all that stuff up above about long cooking? Well, Annalena must have wound up with some really tender quinces.  At 45 minutes, she went to check.  Her quinces had turned a light salmon color.  And they were falling apart tender.  Good with a stew, NOT good with quinces. So, rather than let them sit in the hot bath to cool, as directed, she fished them out.  Not exactly beautiful slices, but they would suffice. 

Undeterred, she peeled her remaining quinces, and repeated, but checked at 30 minutes.  This time, she had pale ecru slices that were falling apart.

Do not ask this woman to explain.  It happened.  She expects fully that the next time around, at an hour, the quinces will feel like rocks.  So, ragazzi, the lesson here, is CHECK.  Check frequently.    The thirty minute slices have more body to them, but they do not have the pink color.   Still , they are delicious.  Save the liquid if you like but take the cinnamon stick out (this makes a wicked cocktail when combined with wicked spirits.  You can also add a cup of sugar and boil it down into a ridiculously wonderful syrup).

So we have our quince slices.  Here's the first thing we're going to do with them.  We are going to make salad.  A really GOOD salad.  And we're going to do it by taking well washed, soft lettuce leaves.  Green leaf, red leaf, boston,  anything of the type.  Stay away from romaine, and arugula, etc, for this application (we will be revisiting arugula and fruit next time around).  Tear the lettuces up, and put them in a big bowl.  Now, get those quinces, be they slices, or fall apart slices.  If they  haven't fallen apart, tear them into small bits and put them on top of the lettuce.  And... now for some bleu cheese.  Whatever kind you like, but get something sharp tasting.  Annalena chose mountain gorgonzola.  Again, break off little bits of it, strew it over the salad like the quinces.  Finally, your dressing. To Annalena's taste, this requires a mustard seed based dressing, so use whole grain mustard.  Combine equal amounts of the mustard and a white wine or champagne vinegar, with a healthy teaspoon of salt.  Annalena cannot tell you how much of each to use:  how wet do you like your salads?  Finally, combine two to three times the amount of olive oil, as the vinegar.  Shake this all up,  and pour it IMMEDIATELY over the salad.  You do this because the seeds in the whole grain mustard will settle out and then, when  you pour the dressing, you'll get one large PLOP of seeds in one place. 

And, serve it forth.  If you are so inclined, add some almonds, macrona almonds in particular, to the dish. But there's no need to.

And you have a wonderful autumn salad that is different from anything you've ever had (unless, of course, you're Armenian and your mom made this every day during the fall. ).

Enjoy, ragazzi.  And Annalena shall send you more quince recipes as they come up.

Next time around, figs get the salad treatment.

Ti auguro un buon fin di settimana, i miei ragazzi!

Wednesday, October 3, 2012

kkkkkk kohlrabi and what to do with it




Ragazzi, one of the fun things about being a part of a CSA is having to learn how to deal with things you don't usually buy.    Even with her vast levels of experience, Annalena has never really had much acquaintance with the vegetable pictured above (which can also be found in purple). Kohlrabi was not in her repertoire, but it WAS in the CSA box.

OK.... she thought to herself.  "What would Alice do," meaning of course, Alice Waters.  Guess what?  Not a single recipe in any of her books, on the stuff.  And so it went, with several of her books.  "The Joy of Cooking" suggested peeling, boiling and covering with a white sauce.

Well, gee, that was helpful... NOT.  BUT... there was a glimmer of hope.  Buried in one of Mark Bittman's book was the tidbit that "kohlrabi are treated just like turnips."  He gave no recipes, but using her incredible systematic and logical mind (no cracks here, ragazzi), Annalena looked up the turnip recipes, and indeed, she found one. She tried it.

She provides it here.  It was OK, but not terrific.  A second recipe was better, and in one of those situations where "you gotta have friends," Annalena gave some of them to her friend Maria, who is Latina, but new precisely what to do with this German/Eastern European vegetable.  More on this below.


First, let Annalena get on her soap box on cookbooks.  To the extent she found information on this thing, they all said  "small ones may be cooked whole, but larger ones must be peeled." 

Ok, this begs the question:  what is large and what is small?  Annalena has in fact seen some kohlrabis that were as big as her not insignificant head.  Did she have small ones, or large ones?  She peeled half of them, and did not peel the others.

News for all of you who wish to experiment with these critters. PEEL THEM completely.  And then, look for the point where it gets very tough.  If you cut these guys like coins, you will probably find a spot where your knife is giving you a fight.  Don't argue, just don't use them.

Ok, so what do you do with these guys?  Well, if you are lucky enough to get them with the greens still attached, use them any way you would use turnip greens (and keep in mind that, in Italy, broccoli di rapi is "cima" or turnip greens.  So if you like orecchiete with broccoli rabb and don't have any of it around, use the leaves.  Do know they are a bit on the tough side.  The stems?  COMPOST.  But the bulbs.  Ok, Annalena is going to give you two recipes because one is  a "putting it together recipe" based on one she's already posted, and the other is a really simple one.  The latter is really ONLY for turnip lovers.

"Putting it together."  Way back when, Annalena posted a recipe for a potato gratin.  You sliced potatoes, put them under milk, added salt, boiled the thing, poured it into a greased pan, and baked.  Well, you're gonna do that again this time, only you're going to use equal amounts of sliced kohlrabi and potatoes.  To review, peel both vegetables.  Cut them into thin, round slices.  Put them in a pot, and add whole or 2% milk, just to cover.  Over low heat, bring this just to a boil, pull it away from the stove, and pour it into a glass or ceramic baking dish (or two), that you've buttered. Remember to add salt to the milk.  Put t his into the oven at 400, and bake for 30-45 minutes, until it's brown and the milk is no longer liquid. 

For the turnip lovers:  after you have prepped the veggies, cut them into wedges.  You should probably aim for 6-8 wedges per kohlrabi.  Now, put these in a pot with COLD, salted water, and bring to a boil.  Cook them until they are not quite done.  You know what that means:  a knife stuck into them goes in a bit, but not all the way.  Drain them.  Put the kohlrabi back into the pot, and add water just to about half the depth of the veggies.  Add two or three tablespoons of butter and bring it to a fast boil, uncovered.  The water will boil off and eventually, you will be braising the veggies in butter.  They will brown somewhat, and you should plan on doing some stirring.    When they are soft enough for your taste, they are done.

Well... not quite.  This is a very white, bland looking vegetable once it is peeled.  So Annalena chopped up some hazelnuts and put them over the critters.  That was a good idea.  Parsley would have been good too.  And, let's face it:  is there anything that is not improved with a dusting of grated cheese?

Annalena plans to try her friend Maria's stew recipe, and shall report back.  Be adventurous ragazzi.  Remember, somewhere in time, SOMEONE  was the first person to eat a lobster, a truffle, a foie gras.  Honor your ancestors.

Next time around, we visit the neglected world of the letter Q and work with quinces.  An Annalena favorite.

Alla prossima.