Saving the bounty: fruit compotes

Every summer, it happens to Annalena, and more than once. All of a sudden, there is more of "X" than she can possibly use.  What "X" is changes from year to year.  This year, it was cherries.  See, the cherry season is short, but when it's here, it's HERE with a vengeance.  This year, the season has been longer and way more, well, "fruitful" than usual.  You add to that the deliveries that Annalena gets from her "cherry of the week" club (yes, she belongs to one:  every week, for about a six week period 4-5 pounds of cherries arrive. Every week), and you have a ton of the guys lying around. 

Fortunately, David Lebovitz (to who's web site Annalena again commends you), came to the rescue.  He, too, has found himself with boatloads of cherries, and without enough time to eat them, or things to do with them.  It was from Mr. Lebovitz that Annalena got the idea for what follows.  David suggested turning "excess" cherries into compotes, and freezing them.  Indeed, that is what Annalena did.  But her overabundance did not stop there:  the boatloads of apricots,  the peaches, the nectarines, and the berries, not only threatened to take over the refrigerator, they had indeed taken over the refrigerator.  So, over the past few days, she has modified the original recipe, and made a cherry compote, one of apricots and berries (rasp and blue), and one of peaches, nectarines, and black currants.  They are pictured below. The one by itself is the peach/nectarine/black currant.  In the picture with two, the one on the left is cherry, and the one on the right is the one based on apricots.  

So let's get to work.  The hardest thing you will do is pit the cherries.  Annalena has a cherry pitter that offers some protection, but you'd best wear clothes that you were planning to  throw out anyway.  Annalena pitted two pounds of sweet, and one pound of sour, cherries.  If you don't have a pitter, you can do just as well, by hitting the guys with a knife and tearing out the pit.  Shape is not relevant here.    And you don't have to do three pounds. 

Put them into a non reactive pot, and add a cup of sugar.  Annalena added this much sugar because of the sour cherries.  The "rule" for doing this is a quarter cup of sugar per pound of fruit.  That "rule" changes depending on how sweet your fruit is, how sweet you like your fruit, and so on.  

For the apricots and berries, Annalena had a pound of apricots, cut into pieces, and a pint of mixed berries.  They went into the pot with a half cup of sugar.  More on this below. 

For the peach/nectarine extravaganza, Annalena did not weigh things, but she had seven stone fruits, and a scant half pint of black currants, off the stem.  (She had needed two tablespoons to make currant vinegar).

To this, she added half a cup of sugar. 

Now, she did NOT make all of these at once, so do not feel compelled to do so, and do not feel compelled to use her mixes.  But once you've got your fruit in the pot,  turn the heat to low, cover it, and let it be for about five minutes.  Then uncover it and stir.  Keep the heat very low, because fruit and sugar foam up, and at some point, it will happen.  You don't want your hands there when it does. Trust Annalena:  these burns are nasty. 

Keep your  eye on the pot, and every two minutes or so, give it a good stir.  The cherries and apricots took about fifteen minutes.  The peach mix, about half an hour.  What you're looking for is soft fruit, and a slightly thickened sauce.

If Annalena were to do it all over again, she would have cut back the sugar in the cherries to 3/4 cup, and upped the apricot sugar to 3/4 cup as well.   The peaches were very ripe, and the result was just fine.  

You can eat these as they are, put them in your yogurt (which is what she and the Guyman are doing), put them on ice cream, simple cake, and so forth. Annalena had visions of using the cherry compote as the filling in the cherry cake she described to you, but backed out at the last minute. 

Keep these in  your fridge for about a week, if they last that long.   Then freeze them.  Or, if you make more than you can eat in a week, freeze what's in excess.  It will taste great in February, when the thought of one more pear or one more apple is making you weep. 

One last thing: if you prefer a smoother texture , when you've cooled these masterpieces, just put them in a blender, for a really smooth texture, or a food processor, for a chunkier one.  

Go to it, bambini.  And let Annalena know of your combinations. 

Sweet and sour, like the season: Sour cherry crumb cake.

1. 

So, ragazzi, what could Annalena mean when she says the season is "sweet and sour?"  Well, everyone loves summer, don't they?  Even when we factor in the awful humidity,  the days when it is TOO hot, the brown outs, the blackouts, we still love it.    But to quote Elinor Wylie (which Annalena does, often):  "summer, much too beautiful to stay."   And indeed.  Already in the way the trees are setting their winged fruits, Annalena can see the beginning of the end.  We have already said goodbye to asparagus, and to southern Jersey strawberries (they come from upstate now, and will be gone, soon), and the plums are coming in.  "And the seasons, they go round and round." 

For those of us who live by the farmers market rhythm, there are certainties, and variations.  This year, for example, we are in a flood of cherries.  WAY more cherries than Annalena remembers ever having.  But they will end.  So, gather them while ye may and gorge on them.  Every sweet red one of them. 

In her experience, Annalena finds that the sweet cherries are good for eating out of hand, and that's about it.  Now, there is nothing wrong with that, but for those of you who are fans of cherries cooked in... something, it's probably sour cherries you ate, and it's sour cherries you should buy.  Annalena loves to eat them fresh, which is a practice that many people find to be yet another aspect of her unsavory side, but what can one do?  She loves them.  

One of her favorite baking publications, King Arthur's "The Baking Sheet" has just published its farewell issue, but in it Annalena has found tons of things to make.  And this is one of them.  It is essentially a sour cherry coffee cake, which has an incredible amount of variation available to you.  Rather than show the whole mass of a cake, she is showing you what was left after she and the Guyman had a  piece each, and then she brought half of it to the Karlin clan for breakfast. 

This is a good one for an informal dinner or brunch, or just for breakfast.  Not too sweet, and really easy.  You will need a cherry pitter if you use them fresh, but you don't have to.  And for those of you who are going to pit them yourself, let's get to work. 

You will need 3 cups of pitted sour cherries.  How much is this by weight?  Annalena knows not.  She just pitted until  she had what she needed, and if you are a sour cherry fan and can get to them, you won't have a problem either.  If you can't get them (this means YOU, Gilda), you can do this by draining cans of them, or by using frozen ones.  You will probably need two pound cans of sour cherries, and probably at least one bag of them, frozen.  If you use frozen, don't thaw them.  If you use canned, drain them really well. 

Let's make the streussel.  This is easy.  You mix a heaping cup of flour, a quarter cup each of white sugar and brown sugar (any type,  a pinch of salt, a half teaspoon of cinnamon, and a little nutmeg. Add a few drops of almond extract too, and then pour in a stick of unsalted butter that you have melted.  

With a spoon, or with your hands (better), mix this together until you get a crumbly mass. Put it aside, wash your hands, and if you haven't pitted the cherries, pit them.  (Save the pits as pie weights, ragazzi, the way Europeans do).  

Let's get our cake together.  First, put 3 cups of flour in a bowl, together with a half teaspoon of all of baking powder, baking soda, and salt (that's half a teaspoon EACH, babes.  NOT a total of half teaspoon).    Also put a cup of sugar in there - the white kind.  (This varies from the recipe.  Annalena made a mistake and it made no difference).    If you are using a stand mixer, you can add a stick of unsalted butter, right out of the fridge to this, and start working it with the paddle.  If you'd rather not work that hard, or you're not using one, get the stick of butter soft, and work it into the flour mixer.  Then add two eggs, one at a time, together with a teaspoon of vanilla. 

To the buttermilk:  a  heaping cup.  No buttermilk?  Use yogurt, and remember that a cup is six ounces so you will want to use two.  No yogurt?  Use whole or 2% milk to which you have added a teaspoon of vinegar and let it  sit for ten minutes.  Stir this into the batter,  in halves, and combine it well as you go.  Then, grease a 9x13 inch pan (metal is fine here), and spread out the cake batter.  Now, festoon that with your pitted sour cherries, and finally, sprinkle the streussel over this.  You can have nerdy fun with the streussel topping by pressing small bits of it together, to make bigger ones.  

Get the beast into a 350 degree oven, and let her rock for 30-45 minutes.  Annalena had a cake ready in 30 or so, but she wanted a darker topping (who doesn't?), so she let it sit for an extra ten. 

Here's the good news:  this is GREAT.  Here is the bad news:  Annalena is trying to find something nutritionally worthwhile about it, and she's coming up blank.   Well, such is life.  It's summer. Go for a long walk and burn some of it off.  But make it.   Make it today.  Really. 

Stealing from chefs: Bill Telepan's pea pancakes, and pea ragout

Well, ragazzi, the Guyman and Annalena are now together for 30 years.  THIRTY YEARS.  Is that not amazing carini?    Annalena wishes she could give you advice on how to do it, if you WANT to do it, but alas, it is like taking apart a butterfly to learn how it flies.  You won't.   So, avoid the advice books, is Annalena's advice, and make it work, if it feels right. 

It has become their celebration to go to the restaurant Telepan for their anniversary.  It is like a trip "abroad" as this restaurant is as far north as Annalena and the  Guyman go for their dinners out.  It is not an inexpensive outing, but the value is very high.  They always have the tastings menu, but it is a controlled tastings menu:  you look at the full , ala carte menu, pick your courses, and you get four of them.  Now, what could be nicer than that?

The Guyman almost inevitably gets the pea pancakes when they are on the menu.  Chef Telepan seems to be a very big fan of peas, and eggs, and they appear in many dishes.  This one may be one of our favorites.  And Chef Telepan is a hero of Annalena's:  see, he has done, what that loudmouth Mr. Oliver could not.  Please read this:  it will make you smile:  http://www.foodandwine.com/articles/wellness-in-the-schools-bill-telepan.

Now, Annalena has never asked Chef Telepan for his recipe for these pancakes.  She has  his book, but she cannot find it.  So, she went internet trolling and found it on:  Martha  Stewart's website.  Oh well, even the devil may quote scripture, as they say.  

The pancakes are a recipe, but what you put on them, is up to you.  Annalena will describe what she did, and then, you can follow her lead, or go your own way, as Fleetwood Mac once told us  (well, they told us we can go our own way.  They did NOT tell us to follow Annalena).

You will need some snap peas, and some  English peas, out of their shell:  a quarter pound of the snaps, and a half cup of the English peas.  Also, you will need 3 tablespoons of whole milk (the original recipe has 2 of milk, and one of cream.  Use it if  you got it), and an egg, plus a pinch of salt.  That's for beginners.  Clean the snap peas by taking the little stem end and any string off of them. 

Get a large pot of salted water to the boil, and add the snap peas.  Cook them for about three minutes.  Get them out and into ice water, while you now cook the peas, for about five minutes.  While they're cooking, get the snap peas out of the water, drain them a bit, and put them in your food processor, together with the milk, and the egg.   Whirl em around to a smooth puree.  After the English peas have cooked, do the same thing to them, and then add them to the food processor as well.  Taste for salt, with the processor off, of course.  Scrape this lovely green puree into a bowl, and add 1/4 cup of all purpose flour, and a half teaspoon of baking powder.  Stir this all together, and get yourself a nice large nonstick pan.  Also, preheat your oven to 400.

The original recipe calls for butter to cook these.  Annalena uses oil, because she is going to put butter in her ragout.  You add two tablespoons of fat to a nonstick pan.  As Annalena has said, use whatever method you need, to make sure the oil is hot:  ripple, smell,  small child (not really), etc. Lower the heat to medium    Put about a quarter cup of batter into the pan, and press it down a bit, to make a pancake.   Make as many in the pan as you can at one time (for Annalena, this is four), and cook them two minutes per side.  When you're done, get them in the oven for four minutes.  

What you get is what is in the photo.  And you can eat these as a little snack, perhaps with some soft cheese, but why not go "whole hog" so to speak, and make a pea ragout?  Chances are, you bought more than a quarter pound of snap peas, and more than half a cup of peas.  Maybe you have some fava beans around?  That's what Annalena did.   After cooking the peas and snap peas the same way she did for the pancakes, she mixed them, together with fava beans (perhaps a cup of snaps, and a half cup of each of the others), in the pan she used to make the pancakes, together with a healthy blob of truffle butter.  This is done OFF the heat, because once the peas are cooked, the residual heat will melt the butter.  Then you put them on the pancakes, and, VOILA, you have three star restaurant food, at home.  You can see the ragout, after the pancakes below 

If  this recipe is scaring you, ragazzo, it shouldn't.  There is nothing hard about this, and you've made much more difficult recipes from this website. 

The veggies are in season, and now's the time. Spread your wings, make some veggie pancakes, and sit down and feel proud of yourself.  You should.

Spicy again: how to make a boneless chicken breast interesting

Ok, ragazzi, today we're going to approach an ingredient we all know and... like.  Chicken breasts.    IF Annalena can make it through (she's listening to Mahler's 2nd symphony and is already a wreck).  

Annalena has countless stories of her friends essentially living on boneless, skinless chicken breasts during periods of their lives when they need to "slim down" or "look lean" etc, etc, etc.

More power to them.   Annalena has given up.  Not with EVERYTHING mind you, but with trying to turn boneless, skinless chicken breasts into something that even approaches a truly tasty meal (she will take any suggestions you have).  So what follows is a recipe for boneless chicken breast WITH THE SKIN.  Annalena thinks that it may very well redeem the skinless varieties as well, but she'd rather not try it.

Look, ragazzi, if you look at things in isolation, you will wind up being someone who eats nothing but kale and distilled water for the rest of your life.    You must balance things:  do not eat a meal of quiche and fried chicken, and try to limit the bacon with the French toast to 8 slices (in fact, try to limit the French toast!).  And again, keep in mind that the idea is NOT a sprint:  if you happen to have a dinner that is absolutely LOADED with no goodnesses, and you can't resist, well, do your best to balance with your other meals during the day. And take a walk. Let's have a show of hands:  how many of you have taken a walk of at least 30 minutes, 3-5 times over the last week?

MM HMMM.  And you wonder why you want boneless, skinless, chicken breasts?  How hard can it be to walk.  Get to it.  And make this dish.

Originally, this recipe called for chicken breast on the bone. Annalena did not have them (although she loves them).  So, looking at the original recipe, she made the only modification she needed to, which was to lower the amount of time the thing cooks in the oven.  

This is not a dish for the timid of spices;  however, the cooked spice crust loses some of its "venom" as compared to the raw component.  Go for it, and have something cooling with it:  like plain boiled corn and... kale.  In the plate below. 

First, let's get our spice mix together.  You need Spanish paprika.  This is the GOOD stuff: you may see it as pimenton, and it comes in various degrees of heat:  picante means you have some really spicy stuff.  Dolce means it's less hot and almost, well, sweet, like it says.  So, use your judgement.  And your knowledge of your heat quotient, because we're going to add some more heat too.  (Incidentally, these Spanish paprikas are roasted.  That's why you need the SPANISH  one).  For every two, boneless, or bone in, chicken breasts, you need a full tablespoon of the paprika.  Mix this with another teaspoon of ground cumin, and one of mustard (use yellow), and one of fennel.  Now, it is hard to find ground fennel, so put everything together, if you have any whole seeds, and put it in a spice grinder.  Annalena uses an old coffee bean grinder.  Add  a teaspoon of black pepper to this.  Also, a healthy teaspoon of salt. 

Dry off your chicken breasts.  Now rub that dry stuff all over the skin of your chicken.  You've got plenty.  As you rub it, you'll be releasing fragrant oils, and you will LOVE yourself for making this.  

Try to let this sit for an hour or too if you can, but if you can't, it ain't no big deal.   When you're ready to cook, coat a pan just large enough to contain all of your chicken with vegetable oil, and turn the heat to medium. Also, turn on your oven high: 425.  

The recipe, as many do, call for you to wait until the oil ripples. Annalena has never seen this, but she can "smell" the oil when it's ready.  You'll get something like a popcorn smell from the movies (from the days when popcorn was REAL and they made it there.  If you're too young for that... look for the ripple).

Put the spice end of the chicken into the oil, and fry away for  6 minutes or so. DON'T. TOUCH.  THE.  CHICKEN.  Does that need clarification?  DON'T..... TOUCH.... THE.... CHICKEN....  

After six minutes, you may in fact touch the chicken.  You MUST.  Get your tongs, flip it over, and then move your pan into the oven, for about another six minutes.    Then, protect your hands, take the chicken out of the pan, and drain off the fat, while the chicken cools.  You want it to cool for five minutes. 

Just like with the cauliflower we made a little while ago, ragazzi, this is going to fill your home with the most wonderful of smells that  you can imagine, and everyone is going to love you. 

And it's so easy.  Make some rice while you're waiting, or corn, or couscous, and make a vegetable.  And you'll have people (including yourself), asking you to make these again.  And you will.  And you WON'T.. TOUCH.. THE .. CHICKEN...

Next time, carini, Annalena goes back to one of her favorite games, which is ripping off recipes from famous chefs:  we're going to make pea pancakes, with pea ragout. 

Challenging assumptions: polenta cake with vegetables

Ragazzi, today we are going to make "a dish for all seasons,"  and we're going to challenge, and break some rules.  

Below, you will see the end product of Annalena's riffing on some recipes:  it is a polenta cake, inspired by her friend and the Empress of the Edge, Margery (Margery sharpens Annalena's knives).  She made a polenta cake and, as  Annalena posted on Margery's picture, she began thinking  "hmmmm."  Now, at the same time, Annalena was musing about one of her favorite dishes in the world:  vignarola.  Vignarola, for those of you who have never had it, is a dish which, Annalena is told, you will not find outside of Rome (although she found it in a restaurant near Rockefeller Center).  It is a thick puree of artichokes, fava beans, and peas:  sort of a "welcome spring" and tonic for all of us who need a break after the travails of winter (and we had our travails this year, did we not?).  So, Annalena began putting things together for this.  She pulled out her polenta and found... all she had was the "old fashioned" kind, which takes 45 minutes to cook. 

Well, saying "45 minutes to cook," is sort of like not finishing a sentence. The tradition of polenta cooking is that someone has to stand there, stirring constantly, for 45 minutes to an hour, stirring an always thickening, bubbling hot, pot of corn grits .  Indeed, Annalena wishes she had a film of her Italian teacher, who is also an actor, mimicking his mother doing just that. 

Well, Annalena needs to have a chat with Mrs. Jacopo, because this is not necessary.  Indeed, some years ago, Annalena found that one myth of polenta making was just that:  a myth.  We are taught that, to make polenta properly, you have to bring the water or stock you are using to a rapid boil, and slowly pour the grain into the liquid, whisking all the time.  Annalena wishes she could remember who liberated her from this rather unseemly gesture (it sort of looked like an individual sex practice to her):  her friend put ALL the polenta into cold water at once, and then began whisking to the point of boiling.  It works, amici.  Trust Annalena on this one. As God is her witness, she will never eat lumpy polenta again. 

Now, onto the 45 minute thing. Well, yes, old fashioned polenta does take 45 minutes to cook; however, there is no need to stir constantly if you keep the heat low, and also stir occasionally.  As we progress through this recipe, you will see this. 

Annalena's recipe calls for the favas, the peas, and artichoke hearts.  The latter are not local:  growing artichokes in NY is akin to looking for love in all the wrong places.   So Annalena had a half pound of frozen ones.  The peas and favas, however, were.  And when these things are not here, make this any way you like.  It is really good.  

Let's start by getting the hard stuff out of the way:  the favas.  You can read about how to prepare them, but let Annalena tell you: every single Italian woman who was cooked her share of fava beans, every prep cook, ANYONE who has done more than a few pounds of these, needs sainthood.    First, you peel very fat pods.  Then you get the beans into hot water, and blanch them for a couple of minutes.  Then, you peel them after you dump them in ice water.  For all of this, you get about 2/3-3/4 cup of beans for every pound of favas you buy.  Alternatively, you can peel the pods, freeze the beans, and thaw them.  That works too. Annalena learned that from Paula Wolfert, the expert on Moroccan cooking, who has done her time with favas.  

Ok, so you want about 3/4-1 cup of peeled favas, and then the same quantity of peas, cooked for about five minutes.  Keep them aside, and also have your half pound of thawed, or frozen, artichoke hearts. 

Let's make polenta.  Put a cup of dry polenta into four cups of water,  vegetable stock,  chicken stock, or a mix, and then start stirring at medium heat.  This is by "feel" ragazzi, and at some point, you will "feel" and "see" the polenta go from granular, and heavy, into a cloudy suspension.  At that point, the grains have absorbed enough liquid so that you don't have to stir them constantly.  Lower the heat to a mere flicker, and keep your whisk handy.  Do other things in the kitchen (like peel your favas),  and keep busy, because you will return to the polenta every five minutes or so, and stir it for thirty seconds. 

For Annalena's version , now grate about a cup's worth of parmesan cheese, and also slice about half a pound of fontina cheese, very  thinly.  You can use a pecorino, and you can use mozzarella (in fact, there were left over boccocini in Annalena's dish, you just can't see them), or provolone, or anything you like.    

Are you still stirring that polenta?  Good. After about twenty minutes, Annalena suggests that you cover the pot in between stirrings.  The reason for  this is to keep the liquid from evaporating too quickly, which will, in turn, lead to your polenta burning.  Now, burnt polenta is not as serious as Paris burning, but this IS dinner, carini.  Also - and Annalena is serious about this - catching a bubble of boiling polenta on your skin is not a fun thing.  Trust Annalena on that. 

So, after you have had your peas and favas prepared, and your cheese grated and sliced, now what?  Well, get a bread loaf pan (the one below is 8x4.  You can use 9x5.  You could even use an 8x8 or a 9x9 metal pan.  Annalena fears for your safety with glass ones).  Grease it well.  

Keep  cooking the polenta.  You'll see decided changes in it, and after about forty minutes, a mass will start pulling away from the sides of the pan.  You are there.  BRAVO.  Now, add some salt, some pepper, some nutmeg, and your grated parmesan and stir this together.  Pour about a third of it into the prepared pan, and add the fava beans.  Stir them around and then flatten out the layer.  Now add the second third, and on top of that, place your sliced cheese and the artichokes.  Finally, the last third of polenta, and the peas.  Swirl those in.  Cover all of this with plastic or paper, and let it cool. When it's cool, refrigerate it overnight. 

While it is still cold, run a knife around the sides of the loaf, and gently turn it upside down on a plate.  You'll hear a mild "whoosh, and out will come your loaf.  Just like below.  if it's a little messy, fix it by pushing things back.  It isn't that hard, and it will look fine. 

If you serve this cold, or at room temperature, everything will cohere nicely.  If you warm it, the cheese will melt, and your structure will be somewhat lost, but it will still be good.  Annalena has eaten it both ways and she finds it more than good. 

So, all my polenta eaters out there, break some rules, and cook polenta the dellacucina way.  And let Annalena know how it goes.  

Signora Jacopo,  buon auguri. 

From the Mideast, to New Jersey, to Florida, and back to Annalena: spicy roasted yogurt crusted cauliflower

Well, ragazzi, Annalena wishes to wish you all a Happy Independence day.  She and the Guyman are celebrating 30 years together this weekend.  As the song goes  "What a long, strange trip it's been."  And it has been.  And it has been wonderful too.  Thinking about it over the week past has kept Annalena's mindstuff occupied.  That and Italian homework, and other things, so she has simply kept her store of recipes - and recipes she has - for a time like now.

We are working today, in high summer, with a vegetable that you think of as an autumnal or winter vegetable:  cauliflower.    And some of you may be wondering "where is Annalena getting cauliflower in July.  Isn't that a vegetable that grows in the cold weather."  Well, carini, yes it does, and it also grows in warm weather.  So does broccoli. And so do many other vegetables we do in fact associate with the cold weather.   What Annalena thinks happens, is that because in the winter months, these are the ONLY vegetables available and we make the association.  And since there are so many other veggies available in the summer, there will ALWAYS be time to get to these.

Well, Annalena wants to say:  by all means,  eat those other veggies, but try kale, cauliflower, broccoli,  cabbage, and those other "sturdy" friends of winter during the summer.  They have a completely different taste:  much more delicate and much more sweet.  You'll have an eye opener.

This recipe came to Annalena from her friend Ophir - also known as the Late Ophir - and his wife Vanessa.  Worry not, ragazzi, Ophir has not left us - not in the sense of leaving this earth (or perhaps it does, as Annalena will explain).  Ophir is never on time. EVER.  Even when you give him a time that is a half hour before everyone else, he is still an hour late.  ALWAYS.  Vanessa, have you broken him of this?  And in terms of leaving the earth, well, he and Vanessa left Brooklyn for Florida, so make of that what you will.

In any event, this recipe was posted on their website:  fitnessfixes.com, to which Annalena commends you.  As you all know, she does not post recipes she hasn't tried,  and she hasn't tried the other recipes there.  This one, however, is a winner.  It's unusual, it's tasty, it's vegetarian, so go to it.  Try it.     Annalena took the recipe and, as she does, modified it. She will explain how she did so.

Let her say up front though, that this is a VERY spicy recipe, which may not be to everyone's taste.  So if you are  born to be mild, cut back some of the spices.  Try it the first way, though.

And here we go.  Set your oven to 400 degrees, and then inspect  your cauliflower.  The original recipe calls for one head, but Annalena suggests you get two smaller ones, weighing a total of about a pound and a half to two pounds, total.  You  have to get a weight, because cauliflower can be huge .  Annalena used the golden ones, but any variety of cauliflower will work.  Smaller ones are better, however, because even with the long bake time,  you will not completely cook the beasts.

You will need 1.5 cups of non fat plain yogurt.  Now, before you begin wondering "what do I do with the other half of a container of yogurt?"  read the container.  Yogurt comes in  6 ounce containers now, ragazzi.  Yes, like coffee, they have shrunk the containers.  Some are actually 5.3 ounces.  Annalena notices these things. So, in terms of this recipe, use two containers of non fat yogurt.  Dump them into a bowl and then grate the peel of a lemon into the yogurt, and add the juice from that lemon.  Now add two tablespoons of chili power, a tablespoon of ground cumin, a teaspoon of curry, two teaspoons of salt, and a teaspoon of fresh ground black pepper.  Keep in mind that chili powders, and curries, come in different degrees of heat.  If you are used to using them, you will know what you like.  (Annalena used a mild curry, and a stronger chili powder).  If you are REALLY squeamish about the spices, cut them back.  The yogurt is key here.   (and DON'T substitute soy yogurt, kids, please).  Mix this all up.  Taste it.   The original recipe called for a Tablespoon of garlic powder as well.   Annalena does not allow garlic powder in her house, and the recipe did not seem to suffer  for losing it.

Good, huh? Now you have a dip for when you have a party with your health nuts who want vegetables and nothing fattening.

Now, get those cauliflowers.  Even them off on the bottom, by cutting away leaves, and whatever unevenness you find on the stems.  You want them to stand up on their own, after you spread about a tablespoon of vegetable oil on some kind of baking sheet, or pie pans or something.

Wash your  hands, and get busy.  Put the veggies on the sheet, and then slop the yogurt mixture all over them.  It won't drip that bad, and be generous.   You may have a little left, but use as much of it as you can.

Get it in the oven.  The smells that come out will be marvelous, and interesting.  Annalena could have sworn she was baking pizza for the first fifteen minutes, or cooking sausage, and then she got the aroma of enchiladas.  And then, the smell of the yogurt caramelizing came out (yes, caramelizing, ragazzi.  Remember:  any time  you see something brown, be it a vegetable, meat, etc, what is happening is sugar is becoming caramel.  This is called - seriously - the Browning reaction Annalena does not make this stuff up.  If you want to sound really fancy, you can call it the Maillard reaction as well  Louis -Camille Maillard discovered it.  And isn't that a great name. Someone name your son Louis - Camille).

At thirty minutes, stick a knife into the center of your veggies to see if they are tender enough for you.  If so, stop things.  If not, cook them for ten minutes further.  Don't go beyond this.

Let the things cool, and then slice them into wedges.  Chances are, the stems most close to the center, will not be soft enough to eat.  The "mouthfeel" of this dish, however, together with the spices, will give you more than enough to chew on (so to speak).

Annalena made these with stuffed eight ball squash.  She has posted recipes about stuffed veggies before, but if you want it, let her know, and it shall be done.

Next time around, ragazzi, we will either continue our spice run and look at a chicken recipe, or we will visit a case of "when worlds collide," as Annalena combines a photo posted by her friend Margery, with an old fashioned Roman (as compared to Italian ) recipe, for a soup called vignarola.

Ciao for now . xoxoxoxoxooxox