Saturday, August 30, 2014

"Photo" synthesis: Tunisian pepper and tomato salad, with seasoned beans

So, can anyone figure out where Annalena is going with her typically cute title?   Ah, we're going to look at some pictures as we make this recipe.  And, ragazzi, this is one that Annalena implores you to make, especially if you are a vegan.  And if you are gluten free,  make the substitution she suggests:  you will not regret it.

Everyone speaks of the tomatoes:  they cannot wait until the tomatoes are ripe, and juicy and... DELICIOUS.  And Annalena prays at that church.   But let us not forget a vegetable that often is neglected:  peppers.  Frankly, ragazzi, peppers are one of Annalena's favorite things to eat and to cook.  She probably gets that from her grandmother.  Peppers were a staple of Nana's cooking, and she made them with everything:  pepper and eggs; peppers and veal; stuffed peppers; pepper and beef.  For Nana, it was almost always green ones, probably because red ones cost more, and at that time, ragazzi, those were the colors.   There were no orange, or yellow, or purple ones. We had green, and red, period.

There are people who say they don't like peppers because they can't digest them.  Generally, they speak of green peppers, and raw ones.  Annalena suggests that if you aren't quite sure about  peppers: in other words, if it is a digestion thing, rather than a taste thing, start with cooked, ripe peppers (red ones , yellow ones, and orange ones, all start as green peppers, ragazzi.  This is also true with jalapenos :  green jalapenos will turn red if you let them).   If that works, go to the raw ripe ones, and then maybe try some cooked green ones.   And then, you can try this dish.  It is truly wonderful.  And Annalena has to thank Martha Rose Schulman and the folks at Rancho Gordo, especially Steve Sando, for inspiring this dish, which is a synthesis, of recipes from both of them  (getting it yet, ragazzi?).

Ok, let's start by collecting our ingredients.  You need a pound and a  half of bell peppers, of different colors.  This is probably about three peppers, and you want three different colors anyway.  In the recipe that follows, Annalena used red, yellow and orange.  You also want a pound of tomatoes.  Nice, firm, ripe ones.

Next, we are going to oven top roast them.  And this is how you do it:



Annalena finds it easiest to roast her vegetables right on her stove burner.  It does make a mess, but we deal with that.  Turn the flame up high, and use  your tongs to move the veggies around.  The tomato will take very little time, the peppers, much more.  Many recipes suggest you blacken the peppers entirely.  In Annalena's experience, this results in the pepper burning.  So don't worry about completeness:  if more than say 70% of your peper is blackened, move to the next one.    Put these guys in a bowl, cover it with plastic, and let it cool down. 

While the peppers are roasting, you could get to work on your dressing, or you could wait. You need 3 large garlic cloves, peeled and cut roughly (you can reduce this if you like), a  1/4 teaspoon of caraway seeds, and twice that of coriander seeds.  Put these in a little coffee grinder, and pulse it.  If you don't have one of these, you can use anything else that you use for grinding things, but it's difficult to find something to do this with such a small quantity.  What you CAN do, however, is take the garlic and spices, and mix them with the juice of a lemon,  the same volume of olive oil, and a half cup of chopped fresh parsley.  That will give you the volume  you need to do these in a food processor or blender.  In any event, you want to combine all of these, taste them, and then add salt. 

Annalena wants you to know that this is a salad dressing, and it's wonderful.  So if you don't make this dish, make the dressing anyway.  

Remember those vegetables?  Okay, get back and peel them.  The skin will rub off when you use your fingers, and if it's stubborn, use some water.  Some cooks feel this dilutes the taste of the peppers.  Perhaps, but Annalena will give that up for the convenience.  Get rid of the crowns on the peppers, and cut them into strips.  Put them into a bowl, and get to work on the tomato or tomatoes.  To the extent you can, get the seeds out of the beast.  Then, cut the tomato into strips as well.  Mix those with the peppers, and then pour the dressing over them.   If you wanted to, you could take a rest now, or you could go directly to the couscous, or rice step at the end. 

But if you want a complete meal, now you want three cups of cooked beans.  Annalena used pinto, but use what you got.  Preferably, you've cooked them yourself.  Don't tell Annalena if you didn't.  Put a few tablespoons of olive oil in a pan, and when it's hot, add a small onion, sliced up.  Put the beans in, together with about a quarter teaspoon of saffron,  the same amount of cumin, and a tablespoon of fresh herbs, or more.  Annalena used thyme, but the recipe called for oregano. You make the choice.  Cook these all together over a low flame, until the bean liquid is gone.  Taste, and season. 

Final step - almost.  Make couscous.  Is there anyone who needs to be told how to make couscous?  Ok:  take two cups of water, and bring it to a boil. Add two cups of dry couscous.  Turn off the heat and go away for five minutes.   We won't go into making rice here, but make rice if you don't use couscous. Make four cups. 

Now, we can have some fun.  Remember those marinated vegetables?  Well, drain the juices from them, and mix it into the couscous (this tastes SO good).  put the couscous , or the rice, on a plate, add some veggies, or stir the veggies into the couscous, and mound the beans on top of them.  And, this is what you get:  

Ignore the toasts at the side, but look at what's at the back of the plate. 

Decidedly vegan,  can be gluten free, and just about off the charts with deliciousness. What's not to like?  

Try it.  It sounds ambitious, but it's really not.  Play with fire today.  You'll get a good meal out of it. 

Sunday, August 24, 2014

Fear of frying: pasta with fried zucchini, vinegar, capers and mint

Do any of Annalena's ragazzi out there remember an ad campaign called "Wessonality?"  The point of the ad was that if you fried with Wesson oil  "it all came back except one tablespoon."  In other words, when you poured the oil back after you cooked your food,  you were missing one tablespoon.

Now, a few things ragazzi.  First, the ad used chicken as a marker.  Chicken releases fat when it's frying and it also takes fat into the coating. So, there was no way to know what was absorbed. Second, ANY oil, not just Wesson, will behave that way, if you cook properly .

Annalena is making these points because as you read the recipe, you will see it calls for one cup of oil.  Now, don't get all nervous on her.  What follows is a picture of what she poured back, after she finished frying:


Annalena wants you to know that this is a jar that holds nine ounces.  So a cup (8 ounces), would not fill it completely anyway.  But you see the point:  the oil did come back.  Most of it.  Some of it wound up on the paper towels that she used to adsorb the fat, and the final dish, was not greasy.  So, ragazzi, when frying, here's the trick:  make sure your oil is hot enough.  How can you tell if you don't have a thermometer?  Annalena recommends the wooden spoon test:  turn your wooden spoon (or spatula), upside down, and put the end of it in the oil.  If furious - and she means FURIOUS- small bubbles are forming, you're at about 350, which is generally a good temperature for frying.  Less furious bubbling is about 325, which is good for oils like olive oil, which break down faster.  And use enough oil.  Again, this is something that is odd, but true:  if you do not cook with enough oil, your food will absorb it  (eggplant is especially notorious for this).  If you use enough, it won't soak it up.  There are probably reasons for this, but we won't explore them here.

Annalena got this recipe from the website of David Rocco, who in turn got it from a place called Villa Maria, in Ravello Italy.    Annalena thinks that the recipe is Sicilian, and she's calling on her gal pal Melissa (who's restaurant Eolo you should visit), to confirm this.  All the signs are there:  the frying, the zucchini fried to almost feel like meat on your tongue, the capers, the vinegar, the mint.  This, in Annalena's frame of reference, is Sicilian summer cooking.    So here we go.  This is going to make you four servings if you have a standard appetite, or three if you're eating a lot (as Annalena, the Guyman, and Vinnie the doorman from heaven did ).

You need a pound of zucchini.   Now, when Annalena says zucchini, she means any small summer squash.  She used zephyr, which is yellow and green today.  Use what you've got, but try to get smaller ones.    You also need three tablespoons of capers.  Annalena uses the salted ones from Pantelleria, so she soaked them for half an hour, and changed the water half way through.  Finally, you need mint.  If she could, Annalena would be using the wonderful nepitella from Italy, which is, alas, near to impossible to find here.  In fact, in shopping for fresh mint on Saturday, she ran into the converse problem that her friend Tarek (aka  "TA DA") did:  she could NOT find fresh peppermint or any other mint but spearmint.  The Guyman has issues with spearmint, but he did fine with this.  If you really adverse to mint, remember that basil is in the mint family and make a switch.   You need a good handful of the leaves, and chop them.

Now, we're gonna cook.  Slice your zucchini thin.  While you're doing that, get a cup of olive oil (not the stuff you paid 40 bucks a bottle for), in a wide frying pan.  Start heating it (look above for how to tell when it's hot enough, gang), and get a plate or baking sheet ready with some paper towel, or newspaper (if it's Sunday), to drain the zucchini.  Get your hand as close to the oil as you are comfortable doing, and put in the zucchini. One layer, no doubling up.  (if you drop the vegetables from far up, you will risk splashing yourself and getting burned. Trust Annalena on this).  As the zucchini brown (you'll be able to tell:  the edges change color very apparently), turn them and cook some more. All in all, a layer will not take more than three or four minutes.  As they're done, put them on the paper, and immediately sprinkle salt on them.  This is a restaurant trick:  the salt almost seems to "melt" and hold on the veggies.  You won't need much, because of the capers, but there it is.

Now, when the zucchini are cooked, drain off the oil, and clean the pan.  Put it on one burner, and start a pot of water to boil, big enough to hold a pound (or, half a kilo) of dried pasta.  Long ones.  Annalena used tagliatelle from farro.  Spaghetti, fettucini, trenette, they'll all do here.  Put a couple of tablespoons of fresh olive oil in the pan , while the water is coming to a boil, and then add 3/4 of the zucchini. Drain the capers, and add them.  Pour in 2-3 tablespoons of red wine vinegar  - don't use white, and don't use balsamic, or sherry.  Just good quality red wine vinegar.  Most of it will go off, but some of it will stay, and flavor the zucchini.  Add about 3/4 of the chopped mint.  When this is all done, turn off the heat.

Cook the pasta to the point where it's just a bit more aldente than you would want it, because we're going to finish it in the sauce.  Drain it off, and save about half a cup of the cooking water. You may need it , although Annalena didn't this time.  Turn the heat back on your sauce, and then toss the pasta in it.  Add the water if you think it needs to cook a bit more, and just before you serve it, add back the reserved zucchini and mint.  This is what Annalena got:



You think you could eat that?  Annalena could have eaten the whole pot.  Remarkably, it did not feel like it needed cheese - a VERY odd thing to Annalena's palate, but the Guyman concurred.

You can use that oil, by the way, one more time.  So if you like this dish and you're looking for what to do with the zucchini this time of year (and who isn't)? , well, make it again.  Or cook some eggplant.  Or squash blossoms.  But get to it , ragazzi.  No more fears, no more tears.  Make it today.   Baci...



Sunday, August 17, 2014

Two sides for all seasons: ginger carrots and cheesy potatoes

Well, ragazzi, here she is again.

A couple of weeks ago, before things were more challenging than usual, Annalena prepared two side dishes that, as she thought about it, were both of the season , and not.  Thinking about it a little further, she realized that these dishes stand the test of seasonality:  carrots and potatoes are with us always, and while they change, you can always find them at your farmers market.  "New" potatoes and "new" carrots come out in late spring/early summer.  They have a delicate flavor, almost dare you to peel them and skin them, and don't ask for much.  Later in the year, as they grow, they take a bit more work.  You WILL need to peel them, and you will need to spend a bit more time, especially with the carrots.  Yet, they will both reward you amply, as rounding out whatever meal you are making.

Who does not like potatoes?  Annalena suspects there are one or two souls out there who don't like them.  Now, let's separate "I don't like" from "I don't eat."  Potatoes, like all carbs, get a bad name because... they're carbs.  If you choose not to eat them, that is of course your option; however, do not confuse that with not liking them.  You like them.   You know you do.

Carrots sort of  fall into a different place. No one will admit to not liking carrots, but they are, as Annalena has said before, one of the "forgotten" vegetables.  We sort of assume they're there, eat them when they're put in front of us, but think more of  Bugs Bunny than good eating.

Carrots are good eating.  Restauranteurs have discovered this, as you will not from the 9.00 plates of carrots you can get as side orders at many restaurants. They brighten up a plate, and as Annalena found out when she posted the picture that follows, they make people happy.  They make people want to eat them.  And she hopes that they make you feel the same way.

Here come the pics, and then, the recipes:




Both dishes are very easy.  You could make them in the same meal.  In fact, they probably could BE your meal.

So, which one should we start with? How about the carrots?   You'll need a pound of carrots (we'll get to types in a minute), fresh ginger, about two tablespoons of unsalted butter (although the unsalted is not writ in stone), and a pot to cook them in, with some salt.

Really challenging, huh?  Here's what you do.  Get whatever carrots are available and look best, but please, do NOT buy those "baby carrots" that you can find in bags at the supermarket.  Do not be deluded: these are not young carrots.  They are pieces - the junk really - from processing carrots, pressed and shaped into molds to look like small carrots.  Here's the rule ragazzi:  if it looks too perfect, it's not real.  You can get  young carrots at this time of the year.  They have long inedible roots on them.  They have skin.  Usually, they have greens attached. They are NOT fluorescent orange.  That's what you buy.  And if you're doing this later in the year and all there are, are soup carrots (big monsters that you could use to cudgel someone to death), use those.  If you get them with greens attached, remove them immediately and give them to your local rabbit or compost them.  Annalena has been told that you can treat them like parsley.  Let her know if you do.

You want carrots or carrot pieces that are about 1-2 inches long, and about a half inch thick.  Do what you have to do to get there.  If you need to cut and slice, do it.  Now, you probably don't.  And of the skin.  Well, taste one.  Does it taste like it needs to go?  Are you spitting out mud?  If so, scrape em gently.  If not, don't bother.  Just get your finished carrots into about an inch and a half of boiling, salted water.  Some say that as carrots are a root vegetable, you should cover the steaming pot.   Annalena does not agree.  Lower the heat to medium low, and let them cook.  If your pot is too shallow for them to cook in a single layer, move them around every couple of minutes.  They are ready when you can take the end of a knife and barely get it into the center of the bigger one.

Drain them, and if you happen to have soup in mind for later in the week, save that water.    Now, move that pot aside and get out a pan.  For a pound of carrots, melt two tablespoons of butter, and toss in a knob of ginger.  No slicing, just a knob about a half inch long. Swirl it around in the butter, and then add the carrots.  Keep em turning, and when you see the carrots and the butter beginning to brown,  turn off the heat.

Get your grater, get the ginger root (USE FRESH), and just go to town.  Use more than you think you'll need.  Ginger , especially fresh ginger, is a strong ingredient, but Annalena finds that heat drives off the good flavors.  So use a lot.   Incidentally, she also finds that she doesn't need to peel the ginger.  (And, just this week, fresh ginger has come into the market.  This is very perishable, very delicate, and very expensive.  Use it and savor it).

Put these next to your next cut of meat, and smile at how happy  you are for eating something you forgot about and which you enjoy.  And know what?  These are awfully good for you (which is NOT true for most veggies, ragazzi.   Truth be told, you'd be better off eating potatoes than green beans).


And now, let's turn to the potatoes.  Again, let's look at what we've got.  You want potatoes that weigh at least about 3-4 ounces each.  That's 4-5 potatoes to the pound.  You can use bigger, but the size given is ideal.  Now, let's look at the peel.  Take one and rub your fingernail on it.  Does the skin come off?  If the answer is yes,  you don't need to peel them.  If the answer is no, you still don't have to, if you like potato peels.  YOU DO NEED TO WASH THEM THOUGH.  Even the organic ones.  Potatoes produce more  toxins in their peels than any other vegetable: they protect themselves from predators that way.

Ok, so your taters are ready.  Cut them into half inch slices.  You can see the form in the picture before.  Put these into cold, salted water, and bring it to the boil.  Again, Annalena does not cover the pot.  You want to cook them the same way you cooked the carrots:  get some resistance from the knife. It will take 5-10 minutes.  Drain them, and let them dry.  Keep this water if you're going to bake bread, because there's something in that water that makes your bread rise so much better than plain water does.

Preheat your oven to 450.  Meanwhile, dump the potatoes onto a baking sheet, and be generous with olive oil and salt, and get your hands in there.  Coat every surface, and don't be cheap with either ingredient.    Then put everything into the oven.  You'll hear some sizzling, and after ten minutes, move them around.  You'll see some browning on the part resting on the sheet.  Try to get as much even browning as you can, but this is a dish that works really well with taties that are not uniform.

While this is happening, grate yourself some parmesan and some pecorino: say a half cup of each (it's not as extravagant as you think).  Mix them together.  When the potatoes are done, dump them in a bowl, just like you see above , and toss them with the cheese, and a few grinds of fresh pepper.  Some of the cheese will melt, some will not, and you will have another dish that will make you hug yourself, and wonder why you didn't make more.

Ragazzi, you can put these in the bank as solid "go to" sides.    We all need them.  You can do it.  Now do it!

Saturday, August 16, 2014

soup or sauce, or sauce or soup, part II: pappa al pomodoro

Last time, ragazzi, we took a recipe for a soup, and turned it into a sauce.  This time, we're going the other way, and we turn sauce, to soup.

Although there is a debate as to whether or not this is a soup.  You make it and you decide.

Pappa al pomodoro  is an Italian classic, born out of a situation of abundance, and poverty.  And Annalena shall try to explain what she means by that.

If you are growing your own food, you come to a situation where something is coming in, in such quantities, you may feel rich.  And that is what happens with tomatoes, carini.  But you may have very little else: olive oil, garlic, basil, stale bread.  And that is what you need for this.  

You can leave the bread out if you are making sauce, but for heaven's sake do it the full way one time.  But do know that there are about 3 million recipes for this out there.

Here is what Annalena's looked like when she was done:


Now if that looks like something you wanna eat, let's get started.  You need a large onion - one which will yield about two cups of  chopped onion when you're done, and about six cloves of garlic.  Next, you need a half cup of good quality olive oil, and you need bread.  Annalena deliberately staled some country white bread for this.  Her original recipe called for breadcrumbs.

That is not going to happen.    You also need a big bunch of basil, and most significantly, a food mill.  You might be able to leave out the food mill, but try it.

Ok, here we go.  Chop up the onion, and then peel and chop the garlic.  Keep them separate.  Use the RIPEST tomatoes you can get.  If you go to the farmers market late in the day, you can frequently get exactly the tomatoes you want:  the soft ones that they don't want to take home with them.  You're going to need 2 pounds for this recipe, but if you ask the farmer for a deal on 2 pounds of tomatoes, Annalena shall smite you.  Buy ten and make sauce.  Or make this over and over again.

Cut the cores out of the tomatoes.  And then cut them up roughly.  They get separated as well.  Now, take that bunch of basil and pull the leaves off of the stems.  The stems are more important to this recipe than the leaves, and you wanted to make pesto anyway, didn't you?

Put the half cup of olive oil in a pan or pot at medium heat, and add the onions.  Let them cook for a while, and when the begin to soften, add the garlic, and cook them together for about three minutes.  Pull out about half a cup of the solids.Then add the tomatoes, and the stems from the basil.  Lower your heat and let this all cook together, stirring occasionally for fifteen minutes.  Add salt along the way.  As this cooks you will get tomato sauce with a "tang" of basil to it   You can't however, use the basil stems in  your sauce, so if you're stopping at sauce, pull the stems out.

But if you're making soup, pull out that food mill.  Put the stuff through the coarse one, and push, push PUSH. You'l get about three cups of what will be essentially the purest tomato juice you will ever get.

Now, remember that bread?  Ok, cut the crusts away and toast them later for crumbs.  Use the soft part, and break it into little tiny bits.  If you have kids, or grandkids, they will love doing this.  Annalena thinks.  You want about 2.5 cups of bead bits.  Put the juice back into the pot or pan, and over low heat, stirring all the way, add the bread bits.  Then turn off the heat, and let the thing sit for ten minutes.

You've got pappa al pomodoro.  And you've got good eating, as you participate in a time honored tradition. Garnish the soup with a little bit of basil leaves.  Don't eat this hot.  Eat it at room temperature (the way Annalena likes it), or cold.  But make it, and eat it. You'll be glad you did.

sauce or soup? soup or sauce? Who cares, let's use the tomatoes

Ah, it is that time ragazi.  Yes, it is truly summer when Annalena cannot find enough ways to use the tomatoes fast enough.  As a result, she is "forced" to make and eat many tomato salads.

Life could be worse, huh?

Seriously, Annalena equates summe with tomatoes.  When she cannot get local, field tomatoes anymore, summer is over.  And she mopes. And sulks.  And gets upset that she didn't do more.

So, when tomatoes are rampant, so, too, are the eggplants. And Annalena has a CSA.  For those of you who are familiar with these, you know what that means:  yup, ragazzi, a box filled with eggplant as big as Annalena's not insubstantial forearm.  There is only so much eggplant parmagiana one can eat, and Annalena is still working on the surfeit of eggplant.  What follows, however, is a recipe that uses both. And, let her point out at the start, this is a vegan recipe.  And it can go two ways:  you can make it a sauce (which is what Annalena did), or you can make it into a soup (which is it's original intention).    You have, here, a picture of the beast in sauce form:



 If Annalena does say so herself (and she does), it is delicious.  You will be cutting and peeling and chopping a bit, but this is worth it.  As a sauce, you'll get about six cups.  As a  soup, up to ten.  So, who's with Annalena and ready to make something yummy?  She dedicates this recipe to her cousin in law,  Liz, and to her cugina vera, Kim, who got the one Annalena missed .  Let's go ladies:  roll up your sleeves (if you got em), tell the kids to watch tv, and let's cook.

You're going to need three pounds of plum tomatoes (we do NOT use  heirloom tomatoes when we cook:  they will work, but why do you want to lose the flavor and color?)  Cut them in half, and toss them in a big bowl, with a bunch of carrots that you've cut into small chunks.  Now, add the cloves from two bulbs of garlic.  You can do this two ways:  you can peel them, which will make things easier at the end, or you can leave em whole, which will complicate your life a bit at the end.  What does your schedule say?   

Ok, now toss all of these with a couple teaspoons of salt, and a couple tablespoons of olive oil.  Preheat your oven to 425 and then, dump this all onto a baking sheet.  If you want to make things MUCH easier on  yourself,  put the tomato halves skin side up, and use parchment paper.  You will not regret it. 

Put that one aside, while you do the next one:  you chop up about 2 pounds of eggplant into chunks.  Don't peel it.  You want the chunks about bite size.  Put these in a bowl, together with a cup and a half of cooked chickpeas.  (the original recipe called for canned:  if you must, take a 16 ounce can and drain it.  Annalena made hers.  Now, combine those with two teaspoons of curry powder, or more - especially if you're going the soup route.  Again, line a pan with parchment paper, and lay the stuff out on it, after you've stirred another two tablespoons of olive oil into it. 

Put these into the oven, and roast them for 45 minutes or so.  Switch positions about half way through.  Your kitchen is going to smell wonderful:  first the curry, and then the tomatoes, and then the subtle, but unmistakable smell of baking eggplant.  You'll feel very exotic, so if you feel like dancing the Dance of Seven Veils, make sure the kids aren't around. 

Ok, so you've baked the stuff for 45 minutes. NOW, what do you do?  Well, you let those things cool down, first of all.   And when they're cool, peel the skin off of the tomatoes.   You are permitted to marvel at how easily they come off.  If you didn't peel your garlic, squeeze it out of the skin, right onto the tomatoes. 

The tomatoes, the carrrots, and the garlic are going into your food processor, and get it going.  If you want soup, now you start adding water.  This is going to break down your tomatoes even further.  You will want to add cup measures, and probably stop after three.   If you had particularly dry tomatoes, you may need four. 

This is going to cut the salt of the tomatoes, so now taste that liquid, and add more as you need it.  

Now, just dump all that eggplant and chickpeas into the tomato soup.  You may want to add some more curry.  In fact, if Annalena makes this again this year, she will do just that.  

As she says, six cups of sauce, or ten cups of soup.  You know what that means, carini:  it means sharing, or freezing. 

As Annalena said, this is a vegan recipe.  (Did she say that?  She doesn't remember).  If you use it as sauce, and put it on dry pasta, made southern Italian style, you don't have any eggs in it, and you're still vegan.    And that is how Annalena did it.  And if you're watching your gluten, well, go for the gluten free pasta. 

Next one goes the other way:  we're going to turn a sauce into soup, and make an Italian classic.