Those of you who follow this blog with some regularity may recall that Annalena has a love/hate relationship with gnocchi. She loves them. She loves eating them. She loves making them. But she always feels like she's making them badly. Indeed, sometimes, she is. Gnocchi (which means "dumplings," ragazzi), should be light. There have been times when Annalena has felt that hers were more like fisherman's sinkers, than pasta. BUT they need to be firm enough to hold together when boiled. And Annalena has not solved the tension between keeping the things light, but also solid enough to cohere.
One way she has developed to try to solve the problem, is to avoid making POTATO gnocchi, which is the type we all know. Frankly, Annalena finds most potato gnocchi to be made badly, and always regrets buying them. In restaurants, she has a few places where they do, indeed, float, and she always has them. But at home, she sticks to semolina gnocchi, butternut squash gnocchi and now, thanks to a new recipe: spinach gnocchi.
This year, spinach seems to be the first "fresh" veggie that is appearing from the farms. As the weather gets warmer, it will disappear, and make another short appearance in the autumn. But for now, rather than the tough wintery greens that have been sustaining Annalena and the Guyman for months, spinach is on the menu every single week. And why not? It's tasty, it's good for you, and while one cannot say it is inexpensive, it makes us feel: spring is actually here, albeit hiding.
The hardest part of this recipe, ragazzi, is waiting, because you need time to cool things down. You really do. If you try to do this when things are hot, you will burn yourself, and not make good product. Let the water and the steam go off. And with that in mind, let's get to work.
You need 2 pounds or so of fresh spinach. At this time of year, you don't have to pull off the stems: they are still very tender. If you do this recipe and the stems are too tough to eat, buy extra spinach, and strip the leaves. Also, Annalena cannot stress this enough, check for sandy spinach. Spinach grows in loose soil, and it is frequently dirty. Does she have to tell you to wash it? WASH IT.
Now, when you have the spinach ready, put it in a pot, with about a quarter cup of water. If your pot will not hold all the spinach, put in what it will hold, put it on moderately high heat, and wait for the spinach to collapse. It will not take long, and when you have more room, put in the remaining spinach. All in all, it will take you about ten minutes to do this. Move the spinach to a bowl, and please let it cool completely. If you can do this a day ahead of time, BRAVO.
When the spinach is cool, squeeze it. Squeeze it until you get all the water out of it. Now, get it into a food processor, and put about a quarter cup of that water back with it (or, if you didn't save it, a quarter cup of fresh water), and puree the stuff for about four minutes. You want about a cup, and Annalena thinks you will be surprised to see that 2 pounds of spinach, which takes up a LOT of space in your groceries bag, reduces to about a cup of puree.
Put this into a bowl, and grate half a cup of a hard, grating cheese into it. The original recipe Annalena saw called for grana padano, which is fine and dandy, but will probably require a separate shopping trip. You can use parmesan, pecorino, or a combination of them. Just something hard and sharp. Also add two eggs, and a half cup of dry bread crumbs. Try not to use the flavored ones here. Scrape about a half teaspoon of nutmeg in (it makes a difference), and a half teaspoon of salt. Now, stir in a quarter cup of flour. Do this gently. You'll wind up with a very soft mass.
Get a cookie sheet, or a big platter or something akin to this, and spread out a hefty cup of flour on it. Using a melon baller , if you want uniformity, or your hands if you're fine with irregulars, or whatever you like, start making small balls - about 2/3 - 1 inch in diameter. Then roll them in flour, and put them aside. Keep going. Your hands are going to get messy. Don't wet them. Rub some flour on them. If you add too much liquid here, you'll get gummy dumplings.
Most people now fill a large pot with water to cook these guys, but Annalena follows the advice of one of her mentors, Dana Tomassino, who uses a big skilled, filled with water. Indeed, the skilled provides much more surface area. So, fill your biggest pan about 2/3 full of water, and add a half teaspoon or so of salt. Bring the water to a simmer, and CAREFULLY put the gnocchi in, one by one. They will sink to the bottom of the pan, and your water will cloud up from the flour. But that's all good. When the gnocchi are ready, they will float to the top. Scoop them out with a slotted spoon, and keep at it until you have them all cooked.
You need to do this whether you are going to eat them right away, or freeze them, because as they sit, they will hydrate and again, you will suffer from the curse of a gummy gnocco. To freeze them, just let them cool, and sit with as much room as possible. They can sit on each other, however, if you, like most of us, need space.
Sauce for these? Well, if you are making a heavy tomato sauce, this is not the pasta to use. These really call for melted butter, and some cheese over them. But nothing more than that.
Annalena got about 40 gnocchi from this recipe, which is probably 5/6 appetizer servings, and no more than four entree servings.
If the recipe sounded easy, it is. You should try it. Add something new to your repertoire. Annalena guarantees you'll be back. So will she, with other greens, like nettles. Stay tuned.
Friday, March 29, 2013
Thursday, March 28, 2013
Back, with the "exotic: chicken with olives and prunes
Ah, ragazzi, Annalena has been absent. You must recall that she has another job, besides being mentor (mentress?), to the culinarily curious. Some of you actually MAKE these recipes, while others ( she singles out Jeff N for this), treat these more as exercises in curiosity about process, and Annalena acknowledges her role here.
The role, however, does not pay the bills for ingredients, wine, and so forth. Hence, every day Annalena ventures forth to her task as attorney. Lately, that task has been, shall we say, more than a bit stressful. But as Barry Manilow sings (and "GLEE" reminds us that we are ALL closeted Barry Manilow fans - you KNOW you are) it's "daybreak/all around the world." Or something like that. Whatever.
But to the task at hand: new recipes. Annalena is always curious to try things where ostensibly unrelated ingredients come together. Normally, this happens in the context of a restaurant where Annalena will see, for example, shrimp, beets and reduced sweet wine coming together (bad example: she would NOT eat this, but you know whereof she speaks, yes?). And then she goes home and plays with the concept, to see if she can do it. Sometimes this is more successful than others.
One combination that intrigues Annalena endlessly is the conmingling of dried fruit, and protein. You can find her recipe for lamb with dried apricots on this site, as well as the variation with fresh quince. So when she saw a recipe that combined chicken and prunes, well.... this called for further investigation.
Truth to be told, ragazzi, this recipe, which appeared in its original form in the New York Times, was called a "tagine," and called for a "tagine" like pan. Now, a show of hands. Besides Jay , how many of you have a tagine?
She thought so. These heavy clay pots are indeed very useful, and Annalena MAY have some; however, she does not know. She has had these pots for years, and is not at all certain that they will stand up to stovetop cooking. Few things in life terrify Annalena more than a clay pot shattering and sending shrapnel in all directions, potentially lodging a shard in an unprotected area of Annalena's body. Perhaps losing a well cooked dinner is up there, so she decided that she would not go down this path. It was a smart decision. You can make this dish without the clay pot. You can make it in a heavy, large skilled. That is what Annalena did. And you should make it. It is really good.
In addition to the chicken and prunes, you are going to need green olives. Picholine are what is called for, but get what you can get. As Annalena will explain, she did not pit her olives. If you are concerned about pits, well, pit yours before you cook, but for heaven's sakes, do NOT buy the ones that have been pitted already. These sad specimens have lost pretty much all of their olive flavor, and retain just the taste of their bring.
Now, let us begin. You need 10-12 chicken thighs, on the bone, and with their skin. Yes, you read that right. It sometimes seems that it is impossible to find such things, but look for them. If a butcher has cut up a chicken to make boneless, skinless chicken breast, there are thighs SOMEWHERE. Pat them dry, and salt and pepper them. Indeed, it is rather essential to this recipe that the chicken be as dry as possible, for reasons we shall see. You can accomplish this, if you have time, by laying your chicken, skin side up, on a large platter in your refrigerator, overnight. If you cannot do this, then work with as much paper towel as is necessary.
You will need to chop a large onion into fairly small pieces. Also, mince a couple of cloves of garlic.
You will also need smoked paprika. You will find this sometimes as Spanish pimenton. Ask about it, because there are different types. You do NOT want 'pimenton dulce," which is sweet paprika. You want hot stuff. DO NOT substitute chili peppers. The original recipe called for a teaspoon of the hottest one you can find. Annalena followed these instructions, and will double the quantity next time. You need an equal quantity of ground cumin, which you can mix together with the pimenton in small container.
You also need a cup of pitted prunes, and a cup of those green olives. If you are of a mind with Annalena and feel that the pits add a bit of flavor to the dish, all you need do is crack the olives - not the pits. You can do this by hitting them, once or twice, with the side of your big knife. It will be therapeutic (especially to those of you who litigate). You also need a cup of chicken stock.
Now, cominciamo (we begin), with an interesting step. Get your big skillet really, REALLY hot, over a high flame, but do not add any fat. Nope, no fat. When it is so hot you can smell the metal, put the chicken thighs in, skin side down. Don't overfill the pan, because you want browning not steaming. Watch what happens: the fat will begin to melt from the thighs, and there will be a lot of it (would that such would happen to Annalena's thighs). This method, if the chicken was in fact dry when you put it in the pan, will allow you to check, after 3-4 minutes to see if the skin has browned, without tearing the skin. If it is, take it out of the pan and put it to the side. Do this in batches if you need to.
You will have more fat than you can believe, and way more than you need. So pour off all put a film and then lower your heat and add the onion and garlic. Try not to brown them, just soften them, but if you do brown them, so what? Now add the spices and stir, stir stir, for about a minute. Add the prunes, the olives, the chicken stock, and a tablespoon of unsalted butter. Stir this for about five minutes. Now, put the chicken on top of it, skin side up, lower the heat really low, cover the pan, and go away for at least 30 minutes, preferably 40.
Your house is going to smell wonderful while this cooks. And the chicken is going to be extremely moist and tender and delicious. The play of the different ingredients off of each other is superb. IF you happen to have some preserved lemons (and if you don't , why don't you?), chop a bit of one over the dish before you serve it.
This is 5-6 servings, with either rice, or couscous, which will take you no more than 20 minutes to cook (if you are making rice).
Try this, bambini. If you are feeling like you are in a chicken rut, this will take you out of it faster than you can say CLUCK.
The role, however, does not pay the bills for ingredients, wine, and so forth. Hence, every day Annalena ventures forth to her task as attorney. Lately, that task has been, shall we say, more than a bit stressful. But as Barry Manilow sings (and "GLEE" reminds us that we are ALL closeted Barry Manilow fans - you KNOW you are) it's "daybreak/all around the world." Or something like that. Whatever.
But to the task at hand: new recipes. Annalena is always curious to try things where ostensibly unrelated ingredients come together. Normally, this happens in the context of a restaurant where Annalena will see, for example, shrimp, beets and reduced sweet wine coming together (bad example: she would NOT eat this, but you know whereof she speaks, yes?). And then she goes home and plays with the concept, to see if she can do it. Sometimes this is more successful than others.
One combination that intrigues Annalena endlessly is the conmingling of dried fruit, and protein. You can find her recipe for lamb with dried apricots on this site, as well as the variation with fresh quince. So when she saw a recipe that combined chicken and prunes, well.... this called for further investigation.
Truth to be told, ragazzi, this recipe, which appeared in its original form in the New York Times, was called a "tagine," and called for a "tagine" like pan. Now, a show of hands. Besides Jay , how many of you have a tagine?
She thought so. These heavy clay pots are indeed very useful, and Annalena MAY have some; however, she does not know. She has had these pots for years, and is not at all certain that they will stand up to stovetop cooking. Few things in life terrify Annalena more than a clay pot shattering and sending shrapnel in all directions, potentially lodging a shard in an unprotected area of Annalena's body. Perhaps losing a well cooked dinner is up there, so she decided that she would not go down this path. It was a smart decision. You can make this dish without the clay pot. You can make it in a heavy, large skilled. That is what Annalena did. And you should make it. It is really good.
In addition to the chicken and prunes, you are going to need green olives. Picholine are what is called for, but get what you can get. As Annalena will explain, she did not pit her olives. If you are concerned about pits, well, pit yours before you cook, but for heaven's sakes, do NOT buy the ones that have been pitted already. These sad specimens have lost pretty much all of their olive flavor, and retain just the taste of their bring.
Now, let us begin. You need 10-12 chicken thighs, on the bone, and with their skin. Yes, you read that right. It sometimes seems that it is impossible to find such things, but look for them. If a butcher has cut up a chicken to make boneless, skinless chicken breast, there are thighs SOMEWHERE. Pat them dry, and salt and pepper them. Indeed, it is rather essential to this recipe that the chicken be as dry as possible, for reasons we shall see. You can accomplish this, if you have time, by laying your chicken, skin side up, on a large platter in your refrigerator, overnight. If you cannot do this, then work with as much paper towel as is necessary.
You will need to chop a large onion into fairly small pieces. Also, mince a couple of cloves of garlic.
You will also need smoked paprika. You will find this sometimes as Spanish pimenton. Ask about it, because there are different types. You do NOT want 'pimenton dulce," which is sweet paprika. You want hot stuff. DO NOT substitute chili peppers. The original recipe called for a teaspoon of the hottest one you can find. Annalena followed these instructions, and will double the quantity next time. You need an equal quantity of ground cumin, which you can mix together with the pimenton in small container.
You also need a cup of pitted prunes, and a cup of those green olives. If you are of a mind with Annalena and feel that the pits add a bit of flavor to the dish, all you need do is crack the olives - not the pits. You can do this by hitting them, once or twice, with the side of your big knife. It will be therapeutic (especially to those of you who litigate). You also need a cup of chicken stock.
Now, cominciamo (we begin), with an interesting step. Get your big skillet really, REALLY hot, over a high flame, but do not add any fat. Nope, no fat. When it is so hot you can smell the metal, put the chicken thighs in, skin side down. Don't overfill the pan, because you want browning not steaming. Watch what happens: the fat will begin to melt from the thighs, and there will be a lot of it (would that such would happen to Annalena's thighs). This method, if the chicken was in fact dry when you put it in the pan, will allow you to check, after 3-4 minutes to see if the skin has browned, without tearing the skin. If it is, take it out of the pan and put it to the side. Do this in batches if you need to.
You will have more fat than you can believe, and way more than you need. So pour off all put a film and then lower your heat and add the onion and garlic. Try not to brown them, just soften them, but if you do brown them, so what? Now add the spices and stir, stir stir, for about a minute. Add the prunes, the olives, the chicken stock, and a tablespoon of unsalted butter. Stir this for about five minutes. Now, put the chicken on top of it, skin side up, lower the heat really low, cover the pan, and go away for at least 30 minutes, preferably 40.
Your house is going to smell wonderful while this cooks. And the chicken is going to be extremely moist and tender and delicious. The play of the different ingredients off of each other is superb. IF you happen to have some preserved lemons (and if you don't , why don't you?), chop a bit of one over the dish before you serve it.
This is 5-6 servings, with either rice, or couscous, which will take you no more than 20 minutes to cook (if you are making rice).
Try this, bambini. If you are feeling like you are in a chicken rut, this will take you out of it faster than you can say CLUCK.
Sunday, March 10, 2013
The sweet, the tart, and a cluck: vinegar braised chicken
Many years ago, when reading one of her favorite authors, Annalena read of a classic French farmhouse dish, chicken braised in vinegar. She made it, and really wasn't sure why it was considered part of the French classic cuisine of home cooking. It just didn't "sing," so while she continued to be fascinated by the idea of using vinegar as a braising liquid, (after all, vinegar is just wine gone bad), she never went back to it.
Then... during one of her rituals of tearing recipes out of magazines, she found a variation. It seemed different, for its inclusion of pork, and raisins. Things beginning to look up here. So, she got to work. And it worked. It's a good dish. It's a fabulous dish. And, ragazzi, it's one you could make for home, or you could make for company. Yes, it is that good. And it makes a lot. So , here we go. And as we go, Annalena will tell you how to deal with differences in recipes.
To start, you need two pounds of onions: these need to be pearl onions, or cipollines. "Cipolline" is the Italian word for onion, but here in the US, they are a small, oval shaped onion which you can get in red or white. Annalena suggests you use cipollines, because there's some work here, and the larger onions make it easier. Crush four big garlic cloves, and separate them from their peel. You will also need a half a pound of some pork product you can cube: pancetta, slab bacon, ventriche (which is essentially French pancetta), whatever you can find. You need to have little chunks of stuff, and in a pinch, a piece of ham will do. Even tasso ham, although this is going to kick the spice level up, big time.
Next, 5 pounds of chicken parts. Now, Annalena, against her judgement, used whole chickens that were cut up, which the recipe said was ok to do. Ragazzi, it is not. The breast meat dried out in her version of this. It tasted good, but it was dry. So Annalena suggests you save the breasts for the preceding recipe, and use legs and thighs for this. On the bone, and with the skin, please.
You will also need 3/4 cup each of red wine vinegar, and balsamic vinegar. Now, don't use the 100 year old stuff you got in trouble for buying. This is a recipe where you can use the stuff from the supermarket. You can mix them in one container to save space.
You also need a pint of chicken stock, and a good half cup of golden raisins. These look better, but if you have dark ones, use those. Finally, a couple of bay leaves.
Now, we get to work. And we begin with the pain of getting our onions ready. Put them, whole, in a pot of boiling salted water. Cook them for at least five minutes. This will give you firm onions (she did right that, didn't she?), but if you cook them a few minutes more, they'll be almost melting. Drain them, and let them cool. When they do, make a little cut at the root end, and slip them out of their skin.
Well, that's the hardest thing you'll do in this recipe. Put them aside, and put 3 tablespoons of olive oil in a big pan, and when it's hot, add the half pound of pancetta/pork, which you will have cut into 1/4 inch pieces. Surgical technique is not required here. Brown them. Keep em moving to brown but not burn, and when they have good color, take the pieces out and drain the fat off of them. Annalena's recipe said ten minutes. Plan on less. Now, add the onions to that pan, with the fat, and let them brown a little. Again, it won't take long. Add the garlic for a couple minutes. Then move the onions and the garlic to a bowl, with the drained pancetta.
We cook the chicken now, in that flavored fat. Salt and pepper it first, and then get it nice and brown all over. This takes some time, and let it take its time, because once we start adding liquid, the chicken will cook, but you will get no more color. Plan on about 15 minutes in total, and because you're using chicken with the skin on, plan on a lot of fat rendering out.
When you're done with cooking all the chicken, move it to a plate and pour off all the fat. For this next step, be careful. Your pan is hot, and you're working with strong acids: you pour the vinegar right into the pan. Annalena suggests you do it off the heat, and with your face as far away as possible. Put the pan back on the heat, and stir while it comes to a boil. This is getting the brown stuff off the bottom. Add the raisins, the broth, the bayleaves, and then all the stuff you saved from the first steps. You'll need a big pan, of course, or an earthenware pot. Cover it, lower the heat ,and walk away for at least half an hour, probably closer to 45. Check to see if you can essentially pull the chicken off the bone with a knife. If yes, you're done.
You can serve this as is, but it would be better if you could put all the solids aside, and let that sauce cool, so the fat comes to the top. Again, you're going to get a lot of it, and then scrape it off. Taste the sauce, and adjust the salt, and pepper, if you like. Re-combine the chicken and other goodies with the sauce, heat it up and...
OH, it's so good. The combination of the sour vinegar, the raisins, and the pancetta, just elevates this, so you won't be thinking "Oh. Chicken again. No, you will definitely NOT think that. Annalena promises.
So ragazzi, wondering what's coming up? Well, we're going to do a "one size fits all " dessert of dried fruit squares, and Annalena's new version of braciole, thanks to Marcella Hazan.
Yes, we are always working here. Enjoy!
Then... during one of her rituals of tearing recipes out of magazines, she found a variation. It seemed different, for its inclusion of pork, and raisins. Things beginning to look up here. So, she got to work. And it worked. It's a good dish. It's a fabulous dish. And, ragazzi, it's one you could make for home, or you could make for company. Yes, it is that good. And it makes a lot. So , here we go. And as we go, Annalena will tell you how to deal with differences in recipes.
To start, you need two pounds of onions: these need to be pearl onions, or cipollines. "Cipolline" is the Italian word for onion, but here in the US, they are a small, oval shaped onion which you can get in red or white. Annalena suggests you use cipollines, because there's some work here, and the larger onions make it easier. Crush four big garlic cloves, and separate them from their peel. You will also need a half a pound of some pork product you can cube: pancetta, slab bacon, ventriche (which is essentially French pancetta), whatever you can find. You need to have little chunks of stuff, and in a pinch, a piece of ham will do. Even tasso ham, although this is going to kick the spice level up, big time.
Next, 5 pounds of chicken parts. Now, Annalena, against her judgement, used whole chickens that were cut up, which the recipe said was ok to do. Ragazzi, it is not. The breast meat dried out in her version of this. It tasted good, but it was dry. So Annalena suggests you save the breasts for the preceding recipe, and use legs and thighs for this. On the bone, and with the skin, please.
You will also need 3/4 cup each of red wine vinegar, and balsamic vinegar. Now, don't use the 100 year old stuff you got in trouble for buying. This is a recipe where you can use the stuff from the supermarket. You can mix them in one container to save space.
You also need a pint of chicken stock, and a good half cup of golden raisins. These look better, but if you have dark ones, use those. Finally, a couple of bay leaves.
Now, we get to work. And we begin with the pain of getting our onions ready. Put them, whole, in a pot of boiling salted water. Cook them for at least five minutes. This will give you firm onions (she did right that, didn't she?), but if you cook them a few minutes more, they'll be almost melting. Drain them, and let them cool. When they do, make a little cut at the root end, and slip them out of their skin.
Well, that's the hardest thing you'll do in this recipe. Put them aside, and put 3 tablespoons of olive oil in a big pan, and when it's hot, add the half pound of pancetta/pork, which you will have cut into 1/4 inch pieces. Surgical technique is not required here. Brown them. Keep em moving to brown but not burn, and when they have good color, take the pieces out and drain the fat off of them. Annalena's recipe said ten minutes. Plan on less. Now, add the onions to that pan, with the fat, and let them brown a little. Again, it won't take long. Add the garlic for a couple minutes. Then move the onions and the garlic to a bowl, with the drained pancetta.
We cook the chicken now, in that flavored fat. Salt and pepper it first, and then get it nice and brown all over. This takes some time, and let it take its time, because once we start adding liquid, the chicken will cook, but you will get no more color. Plan on about 15 minutes in total, and because you're using chicken with the skin on, plan on a lot of fat rendering out.
When you're done with cooking all the chicken, move it to a plate and pour off all the fat. For this next step, be careful. Your pan is hot, and you're working with strong acids: you pour the vinegar right into the pan. Annalena suggests you do it off the heat, and with your face as far away as possible. Put the pan back on the heat, and stir while it comes to a boil. This is getting the brown stuff off the bottom. Add the raisins, the broth, the bayleaves, and then all the stuff you saved from the first steps. You'll need a big pan, of course, or an earthenware pot. Cover it, lower the heat ,and walk away for at least half an hour, probably closer to 45. Check to see if you can essentially pull the chicken off the bone with a knife. If yes, you're done.
You can serve this as is, but it would be better if you could put all the solids aside, and let that sauce cool, so the fat comes to the top. Again, you're going to get a lot of it, and then scrape it off. Taste the sauce, and adjust the salt, and pepper, if you like. Re-combine the chicken and other goodies with the sauce, heat it up and...
OH, it's so good. The combination of the sour vinegar, the raisins, and the pancetta, just elevates this, so you won't be thinking "Oh. Chicken again. No, you will definitely NOT think that. Annalena promises.
So ragazzi, wondering what's coming up? Well, we're going to do a "one size fits all " dessert of dried fruit squares, and Annalena's new version of braciole, thanks to Marcella Hazan.
Yes, we are always working here. Enjoy!
Saturday, March 9, 2013
Getting fancy, the easy way: Chicken in tarragon mustard cream sauce
Ragazzi, let us face it. At some point or another, everyone of us is faced with a situation where we need to turn out "something special" from our kitchen. Perhaps you've been dating for a while, decided that "he's the one," and you need to seal the deal. Or, let's assume you want to give your partner the night off . Or, there's a mini celebration where you really don't want to leave the home.
Well, for any of these reasons, or just because, Annalena has a dish for you. It is actually a dish that she knew, and forgot about. Probably because she is not a big fan of tarragon, which is odd. See, Annalena loves licorishy/anisy flavors: fennel, anisette, hoja santa, etc. All of these things. Yet tarragon, which also has that flavor, is not quite to Annalena's taste. It is, nonetheless, a classic herb in French cooking (where they call it "estragon," if Annalena recalls things correctly), and it is part of a "fines herbes" omelet. It actually works here, because of the combination of ingredients. You may want to substitute something else, but do it with the tarragon the first time. And let's just thing of tarragon as Annalena's version of the Guyman's cilantro.
Let's begin. Your ingredient list is pretty simple. You need olive oil, about a pound and a half of boneless skinless chicken, be it thighs or breasts. They will both work here. Simply cut them into chunks, or strips. Salt them and pepper them, as you gather your other ingredients, which are a half pound of any kind of mushroom you like, which you need to slice thin.
Now, if you don't care for mushrooms, this is NOT the dish for you. Annalena sees it working with other herbs, but not without the mushrooms. Chop up a shallot, and then have ready about 3/4 cup of white wine, as long as it's not sweet, a cup and a half of chicken stock, half a cup of heavy cream, and 2 nice big tablespoons of grain mustard. No hot dog mustard here, please. And a half bunch of tarragon, chopped.
Most of us will have to shop for at least some of these ingredients, but it shouldn't be too hard to find them. And now, we go on.
Heat 2 tablespoons of olive oil in a big pan, wide enough to hold all the chicken in a single layer. When it begins to ripple, add the chicken, and cook it at high heat. Leave it alone for 3 minutes, then turn it and cook for another 2. If you don't get it all turned evenly, don't worry. You're going to cook it again.
After five minutes, take out the chicken and dump out the liquid. Now add an additional tablespoon of olive oil, the mushroms, and salt and pepper. The mushrooms will need to heat up, and they will start cooking. Don't stir them too much: you want a little color. After about five minutes, they will have given up their water, browned, and will smell good. Now add that chopped shallot, and stir for 2 minutes. After that, move your face back from the pan, and add the wine. Let it cook, over high heat, until it's reduced to just about two tablespoons. Don't be surgical here, not necessary. But when it cooks down, add the stock, the cream and the mustard (you can stir these together in a big cup if you like , beforehand), and let this come to a boil. Keep the heat high, for six minutes.
Now add the chicken, and the juice that may have settled around it. Lower the heat, and cook for 3-5 minutes. And stir in your herbs.
Now, how hard was that? Not too bad, huh? While you're doing this, maybe you want to boil some noodles, or some rice, and put the chicken over it.
You can do this! Yes, you can. And you will, because you must. This is going to be your "go to" company dish if you don't have one already, and if you do, now you have another one.
You probably could serve four with this, but Annalena would say three. So, one each for you, and one for Brangane (Annalena's opera loving friends will understand).
Well, for any of these reasons, or just because, Annalena has a dish for you. It is actually a dish that she knew, and forgot about. Probably because she is not a big fan of tarragon, which is odd. See, Annalena loves licorishy/anisy flavors: fennel, anisette, hoja santa, etc. All of these things. Yet tarragon, which also has that flavor, is not quite to Annalena's taste. It is, nonetheless, a classic herb in French cooking (where they call it "estragon," if Annalena recalls things correctly), and it is part of a "fines herbes" omelet. It actually works here, because of the combination of ingredients. You may want to substitute something else, but do it with the tarragon the first time. And let's just thing of tarragon as Annalena's version of the Guyman's cilantro.
Let's begin. Your ingredient list is pretty simple. You need olive oil, about a pound and a half of boneless skinless chicken, be it thighs or breasts. They will both work here. Simply cut them into chunks, or strips. Salt them and pepper them, as you gather your other ingredients, which are a half pound of any kind of mushroom you like, which you need to slice thin.
Now, if you don't care for mushrooms, this is NOT the dish for you. Annalena sees it working with other herbs, but not without the mushrooms. Chop up a shallot, and then have ready about 3/4 cup of white wine, as long as it's not sweet, a cup and a half of chicken stock, half a cup of heavy cream, and 2 nice big tablespoons of grain mustard. No hot dog mustard here, please. And a half bunch of tarragon, chopped.
Most of us will have to shop for at least some of these ingredients, but it shouldn't be too hard to find them. And now, we go on.
Heat 2 tablespoons of olive oil in a big pan, wide enough to hold all the chicken in a single layer. When it begins to ripple, add the chicken, and cook it at high heat. Leave it alone for 3 minutes, then turn it and cook for another 2. If you don't get it all turned evenly, don't worry. You're going to cook it again.
After five minutes, take out the chicken and dump out the liquid. Now add an additional tablespoon of olive oil, the mushroms, and salt and pepper. The mushrooms will need to heat up, and they will start cooking. Don't stir them too much: you want a little color. After about five minutes, they will have given up their water, browned, and will smell good. Now add that chopped shallot, and stir for 2 minutes. After that, move your face back from the pan, and add the wine. Let it cook, over high heat, until it's reduced to just about two tablespoons. Don't be surgical here, not necessary. But when it cooks down, add the stock, the cream and the mustard (you can stir these together in a big cup if you like , beforehand), and let this come to a boil. Keep the heat high, for six minutes.
Now add the chicken, and the juice that may have settled around it. Lower the heat, and cook for 3-5 minutes. And stir in your herbs.
Now, how hard was that? Not too bad, huh? While you're doing this, maybe you want to boil some noodles, or some rice, and put the chicken over it.
You can do this! Yes, you can. And you will, because you must. This is going to be your "go to" company dish if you don't have one already, and if you do, now you have another one.
You probably could serve four with this, but Annalena would say three. So, one each for you, and one for Brangane (Annalena's opera loving friends will understand).
Sunday, March 3, 2013
A big hug, from odds and ends: Butcher's ragu
There are certain foods - and you know what they are - that make you feel as if someone with big, strong, arms, has wrapped you up and hugged you. When you need it. And let's face it, ragazzi, we all need to feel hugged, almost constantly. So having recipes like this is not an option - it's a requirement. A sort of slow cooked sauce like this makes Annalena feel like her Nana is back there in the kitchen, her arms wrapped around Annalena - at any age, and just making her feel warm and... safe. And if you make this dish, Annalena hopes you feel as if she's there, doing the same to you - because she will be.
"Butcher's ragu." So typical of Italian dishes to have a name that says nothing, and says everything. Whence comes the name? Well, the butcher (il macellaria), at the end of the day, would have bits and pieces of meat left over from the day of business. These bits and pieces were too small to sell the next day, but you can't waste food, can you (not Italians anyway). So... one would come up with creative ways to use what was left. There are many such examples in Italian cooking. This is one. It's a standardized variation, but the philosophy behind it is the same. And let Annalena tell you: this is GOOD. It will take you some time, but you will be SO glad you have this.
This is what you need: you will need a medium sized carrot: the type you'd use for soup, and a couple of stalks of celery, with the leaves if they have it. Also one medium sized onion, and a clove of garlic. Chop up the vegetables roughly, and then toss them in your food processor, and pulse them until they have a rough chop size. Put these aside while you gather the rest of the ingredients.
You need a quarter cup of olive oil, and then also a quarter pound of pancetta, chopped into small bits. A pound of ground beef. Also, a half pound of bits and pieces of prosciutto. Don't buy slices of the stuff: go to your Italian grocer, and ask him or her, to give you the bits and pieces left. Tell him/her you're making butcher's ragu, and the vendor will either smile, and give you a discount, in which case you should come back and buy GOOD prosciutto in the future, or they will look at you like you're nuts, in which case you should go to a different vendor . (You can also buy prosciutto bones this way, ragazzi. Maybe they'll even give them to you).
So you have your meet, and your vegetables. You also need a hefty quarter cup of olive oil, a quarter cup of tomato paste, and then mixed together, a cup each of whole milk, white wine (and keep in mind that champagne is white wine. That is what Annalena used), and a cup of water.
Now, we're ready to cook. Get a nice wide, heavy bottomed pot. Enameled iron is best. WARM (do not HEAT), the olive oil, and add the vegetables you've chopped. Don't let the heat go much above medium if at all, and saute' the vegetables for a good ten minutes. These times, by the way, are serious. Slow cooking is key here. Stir the vegetables from time to time, and if they start to brown, lower the heat.
After ten minutes, add the beef, and the pancetta. Start cooking those, for about 8 minutes. You'll have to break up the beef as it cooks, so that it fragments. You're cooking this just until the pink is out of the beef. It will take the 8 minutes, and the pancetta will render out its fat. Now add the tomato paste, and stir it all together. Cook all of this for another ten minutes. The tomato paste will go from bright red, to an almost brick red color. Taste. In fact, taste as you go along, and watch how things develop.
Now, after that ten minutes, pour those liquids in, and the prosciutto. And lower the heat a bit more. Go and tend to other things, but every now and then stir it. That's all you have to do. It will take about an hour, an hour and a quarter, or maybe an hour and a half, to get the liquid to just about evaporate. At first, it will look like nothing's happening, but be patient. At the end, you'll be wondering "where did the liquid go?" And you will have, at the end, a complex, WONDERFUL tasting sauce that makes you feel, well, like someone is hugging you. And in fact someone is. Because this is a dish that comes out of necessity, and love. If you had thought that carrots, celery, onions, garlic, chopped meats, and odds and sots of pork, would produce a dish that tasted like this, you'd be clairvoyant. But you're not, and neither is Annalena.
As with all ragus, this is a complex, deep sauce, and you don't need much. Annalena got about 4 cups of sauce at the end, and by American portions, that's enough for 8 servings. More for real Italians. On pasta, polenta, or even just as it is.
When it's done, if you feel like it needs salt, or pepper, add it. But it probably won't. the pancetta and prosciutto are seasoned very heavily, and if it tastes a little underseasoned, keep in mind that you'll probably be adding salty cheese at the end.
You'll be working about 2 hours to make this, but believe Annalena: it is time well worth spending. Give yourself a hug. Let Annalena give you a hug. BUT, best of all, make this and give someone you love a hug. Karma is a boomerang. That's not Italian, but Annalena can attest to it: you hug someone with food, you'll get it back.
"Butcher's ragu." So typical of Italian dishes to have a name that says nothing, and says everything. Whence comes the name? Well, the butcher (il macellaria), at the end of the day, would have bits and pieces of meat left over from the day of business. These bits and pieces were too small to sell the next day, but you can't waste food, can you (not Italians anyway). So... one would come up with creative ways to use what was left. There are many such examples in Italian cooking. This is one. It's a standardized variation, but the philosophy behind it is the same. And let Annalena tell you: this is GOOD. It will take you some time, but you will be SO glad you have this.
This is what you need: you will need a medium sized carrot: the type you'd use for soup, and a couple of stalks of celery, with the leaves if they have it. Also one medium sized onion, and a clove of garlic. Chop up the vegetables roughly, and then toss them in your food processor, and pulse them until they have a rough chop size. Put these aside while you gather the rest of the ingredients.
You need a quarter cup of olive oil, and then also a quarter pound of pancetta, chopped into small bits. A pound of ground beef. Also, a half pound of bits and pieces of prosciutto. Don't buy slices of the stuff: go to your Italian grocer, and ask him or her, to give you the bits and pieces left. Tell him/her you're making butcher's ragu, and the vendor will either smile, and give you a discount, in which case you should come back and buy GOOD prosciutto in the future, or they will look at you like you're nuts, in which case you should go to a different vendor . (You can also buy prosciutto bones this way, ragazzi. Maybe they'll even give them to you).
So you have your meet, and your vegetables. You also need a hefty quarter cup of olive oil, a quarter cup of tomato paste, and then mixed together, a cup each of whole milk, white wine (and keep in mind that champagne is white wine. That is what Annalena used), and a cup of water.
Now, we're ready to cook. Get a nice wide, heavy bottomed pot. Enameled iron is best. WARM (do not HEAT), the olive oil, and add the vegetables you've chopped. Don't let the heat go much above medium if at all, and saute' the vegetables for a good ten minutes. These times, by the way, are serious. Slow cooking is key here. Stir the vegetables from time to time, and if they start to brown, lower the heat.
After ten minutes, add the beef, and the pancetta. Start cooking those, for about 8 minutes. You'll have to break up the beef as it cooks, so that it fragments. You're cooking this just until the pink is out of the beef. It will take the 8 minutes, and the pancetta will render out its fat. Now add the tomato paste, and stir it all together. Cook all of this for another ten minutes. The tomato paste will go from bright red, to an almost brick red color. Taste. In fact, taste as you go along, and watch how things develop.
Now, after that ten minutes, pour those liquids in, and the prosciutto. And lower the heat a bit more. Go and tend to other things, but every now and then stir it. That's all you have to do. It will take about an hour, an hour and a quarter, or maybe an hour and a half, to get the liquid to just about evaporate. At first, it will look like nothing's happening, but be patient. At the end, you'll be wondering "where did the liquid go?" And you will have, at the end, a complex, WONDERFUL tasting sauce that makes you feel, well, like someone is hugging you. And in fact someone is. Because this is a dish that comes out of necessity, and love. If you had thought that carrots, celery, onions, garlic, chopped meats, and odds and sots of pork, would produce a dish that tasted like this, you'd be clairvoyant. But you're not, and neither is Annalena.
As with all ragus, this is a complex, deep sauce, and you don't need much. Annalena got about 4 cups of sauce at the end, and by American portions, that's enough for 8 servings. More for real Italians. On pasta, polenta, or even just as it is.
When it's done, if you feel like it needs salt, or pepper, add it. But it probably won't. the pancetta and prosciutto are seasoned very heavily, and if it tastes a little underseasoned, keep in mind that you'll probably be adding salty cheese at the end.
You'll be working about 2 hours to make this, but believe Annalena: it is time well worth spending. Give yourself a hug. Let Annalena give you a hug. BUT, best of all, make this and give someone you love a hug. Karma is a boomerang. That's not Italian, but Annalena can attest to it: you hug someone with food, you'll get it back.
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