Years ago, I bought David Lebovitz' first book "Room for Dessert." He's published several more books since then, but this one is still my favorite. The copyright date on the book is 1999, so that's when I first made the dessert I'm gonna talk about here. I can't believe it was that long ago. And I used to make it often. Then I stopped. Why, I don't know. Sort of like getting so comfortable with something that you move on, maybe? Who knows. In any event , the thought of the dessert came back to me the other day, and I pulled out the recipe.
It was easy to make then and it's easy to make now. And for those of you who don't have ice cream makers, I'm gonna make a few suggestions because this is one you should make. It's terrific.
First, you have to pick your wine. Something fruity, like a zinfandel (I always make it with zinfandel, but use what you like), and about 1.25 cups of it. You also need a scan two cups of citrus juice. David calls for orange or tangerine juice, but I like to mix it up. Most of the juice really should be in the orange family, but I add lemon and lime juice too, because that's how I remember sangria. Squeeze till you have enough juice. Pour that in with the wine. Then, make a simple syrup of a cup of sugar and half a cup of water, and mix that into the other liquids.
Did that seem hard? I didn't think so. Now let it cool.
If you have an ice cream maker, churn away. You'll get this soft, dark purple mixture that will make you think of frozen sangria (By the way, if you can get a frozen margarita, you should be able to get a frozen sangria . Come on restaurant folks. Get on this).
Now, if you don't have an ice cream maker, do this one of two other ways. One way: freeze this in an ice cube tray and when you're ready to serve, put the cubes in a food processor and pulse. Or, for the granita fans, pour this into a 9x9 inch METAL pan (you need metal here, for the cold conduction and also for the sturdiness). Every twenty minutes or so, as ice crystals form, go in and stir it up to break it up. You'll get some much more "flinty" than with the other two methods, but equally good.
This is great as a cooler in the middle of the day (sort of like Venetian sgroppino), or as a refresher after a heavy meal and before the "real" dessert, or just as something to sit down and enjoy, when you're sitting on the roof, and watching the sunset. It has that kind of color, too. It will remind you of that.
OK KIDS. Annalena has a request. This is post number 496. We are coming up to a very serious number: NUMBER 500. So, let's have some requests. I cannot promise honoring any of them, but what would you like to see for this milestone? No reasonable request refused. And if it doesn't make it to number 500, maybe it will show up later.
Annalena is a girl of mystery. You never know...
Sunday, July 11, 2010
Saturday, July 10, 2010
The fish, the whole fish and nothing but the fish: cooking the whole thing
I have noticed, in chatting with people about cooking, a real aversion to cooking a whole fish. Part of it is the "ewwww" factor of seeing something with the head on it, with the eyes. That is something that you just have to get over. The fillet you eat used to have a head attached to it. And, everything that the professionals say is true: whole fish does taste better than the fillets. There is some kind of sweetness thta seems to emanate out of the bones and makes it so much tastier. I'm sure there are many articles and pieces on why a whole fish is better than the fillet or steak, but who cares? Let's just say it is, and move on.
Now, the first thing, of course, is to get over the head attached to the fish. Annalena really cannot help you with this, other than to say: you've seen worse things in your life, and your interaction with the head is going to be very minimal, as you will see.
The next thing that people are confronted with, is not knowing how to buy a whole fish. Well, this is where you need the head to be attached. Look at the eye: is it clear, and unfogged? That's a sign of freshness. As fish age, their eyes almost become covered with a cataract. If the eye is clear, you're in the right direction.
Next, smell it. This, of course, tells you that you should never buy whole fish that is hermetically sealed in plastic. It's not good for the fish, and you can't inspect it. What should you smell?
Nothing. I'm serious. All this talk about "the wonderful smell of fresh fish," or "the breezes of the ocean, " is poppycock. A fresh fish has no smell. If you get a whiff of fish, the beast is beginning to age. A bit of a smell, especially with an oilier fish, like a mackerel or a bluefish, is ok, but if it REALLY smells like cat food put it down, no matter how clear the eyes are.
Now, next fear: I don't know how to clean it. Well, that's why God invented fish mongers. If you are buying a whole fish, the sales person will know how to clean it. Ask. Most will just do it routinely, but some of us do know how to do it and might want some of the innards. For example, monkfish liver is prized by some, so they want it. Annalena says they can have it. She does NOT consider it the "foie gras of the sea." So, you don't have to worry about cleaning or scaling the fish. DO know that, you pay for the fish with the guts attached, for the most part. Some fish mongers will charge you for the cleaned fish, but rest assured that they have raised the price. It's worth it.
What fish should you buy? Well, something you like . Something that does not weigh more than about a pound/pound and a quarter each. This gives you so many options it is unbelievable. Sea bass. Snapper. Bream. (Now, here's a killer "bream" is porgy. But you'll only see the fish advertised as porgy if it's pan fried. If it's baked, they think it's continental and call it bream). Anyway, go to a fish store, look at the various fish, and you'll see how many are really small. Making a whole striped bass or salmon is not that hard, but we'll deal with that at another point in time. Figure that for each person, you need one of these guys (or gals).
When you get them home, wash them. Perhaps rub it all over with lemon juice. You don't have to do it. Preheat your oven to 450, and then get your pan ready. If you have a baking dish that will hold all of your fish comfortably, use it. Spread olive oil over the bottom of the pan. If you don't have a pan big enough, line a cooking sheet with parchment paper. That should handle four fish comfortably.
We're going to bake our fish today with a stuffing: pesto. And we're going to use the pesto that we used for rabbit. Lets make it, or let's use extra from another night. Get a cup of toasted walnuts (350 in the oven for 10 minutes), and put them in a blender . Pulse them a few times. Then slowly add olive oil , with the machine running, until you get a thick paste. Taste it, and correct for salt.
You will only need a tablespoon or so to stuff each fish. Those cavities are small, and you don't want to kill the taste of the fish with too much stuff. Then, get a sharp knife and run two or three deep cuts through the skin, and spoon one or two more spoons of pesto over each one. You do the slashing to make sure that the skin cooks properly and also to let the lovely pesto flavor the meat of the fish.
Get this into the oven, and let it bake for 30 minutes. It sounds like a lot of time, but it's right. When it comes out of the oven: time to deal with things. Be brave. Get some tongs, and grab the fish at the front, around the mouth, and bend back. If the fish is cooked completely, the head will snap at the right place, and you are DONE with it. You can bend the tail up, and it will break as well.
You can serve the fish like this, and let people eat it as they see fit, but if you want to be really "professional" about it, take a soft knife (not a steak knife, the other kind), and use the BACK (the non blade end) and run it along the backbone of the fish. You'll see how easily the meat separates. Then remove that fillet with a paddle, and put it aside. The skeleton will be exposed, and you just pull that away, and your fish is ready.
You should warn your guests that there will be bones. You never get rid of all of them this way and that's ok. In the same way that you might gnaw at a chicken leg bone, or something like that, you're going to do the same thing, sucking at the bones of the fish. They will taste just as good. Some people really enjoy the bones, most of all. Not me.
Make some whole fish today. Impress your friends. It is not hard to do, and if they are not impressed, they are jaded and you should move on.
Now, the first thing, of course, is to get over the head attached to the fish. Annalena really cannot help you with this, other than to say: you've seen worse things in your life, and your interaction with the head is going to be very minimal, as you will see.
The next thing that people are confronted with, is not knowing how to buy a whole fish. Well, this is where you need the head to be attached. Look at the eye: is it clear, and unfogged? That's a sign of freshness. As fish age, their eyes almost become covered with a cataract. If the eye is clear, you're in the right direction.
Next, smell it. This, of course, tells you that you should never buy whole fish that is hermetically sealed in plastic. It's not good for the fish, and you can't inspect it. What should you smell?
Nothing. I'm serious. All this talk about "the wonderful smell of fresh fish," or "the breezes of the ocean, " is poppycock. A fresh fish has no smell. If you get a whiff of fish, the beast is beginning to age. A bit of a smell, especially with an oilier fish, like a mackerel or a bluefish, is ok, but if it REALLY smells like cat food put it down, no matter how clear the eyes are.
Now, next fear: I don't know how to clean it. Well, that's why God invented fish mongers. If you are buying a whole fish, the sales person will know how to clean it. Ask. Most will just do it routinely, but some of us do know how to do it and might want some of the innards. For example, monkfish liver is prized by some, so they want it. Annalena says they can have it. She does NOT consider it the "foie gras of the sea." So, you don't have to worry about cleaning or scaling the fish. DO know that, you pay for the fish with the guts attached, for the most part. Some fish mongers will charge you for the cleaned fish, but rest assured that they have raised the price. It's worth it.
What fish should you buy? Well, something you like . Something that does not weigh more than about a pound/pound and a quarter each. This gives you so many options it is unbelievable. Sea bass. Snapper. Bream. (Now, here's a killer "bream" is porgy. But you'll only see the fish advertised as porgy if it's pan fried. If it's baked, they think it's continental and call it bream). Anyway, go to a fish store, look at the various fish, and you'll see how many are really small. Making a whole striped bass or salmon is not that hard, but we'll deal with that at another point in time. Figure that for each person, you need one of these guys (or gals).
When you get them home, wash them. Perhaps rub it all over with lemon juice. You don't have to do it. Preheat your oven to 450, and then get your pan ready. If you have a baking dish that will hold all of your fish comfortably, use it. Spread olive oil over the bottom of the pan. If you don't have a pan big enough, line a cooking sheet with parchment paper. That should handle four fish comfortably.
We're going to bake our fish today with a stuffing: pesto. And we're going to use the pesto that we used for rabbit. Lets make it, or let's use extra from another night. Get a cup of toasted walnuts (350 in the oven for 10 minutes), and put them in a blender . Pulse them a few times. Then slowly add olive oil , with the machine running, until you get a thick paste. Taste it, and correct for salt.
You will only need a tablespoon or so to stuff each fish. Those cavities are small, and you don't want to kill the taste of the fish with too much stuff. Then, get a sharp knife and run two or three deep cuts through the skin, and spoon one or two more spoons of pesto over each one. You do the slashing to make sure that the skin cooks properly and also to let the lovely pesto flavor the meat of the fish.
Get this into the oven, and let it bake for 30 minutes. It sounds like a lot of time, but it's right. When it comes out of the oven: time to deal with things. Be brave. Get some tongs, and grab the fish at the front, around the mouth, and bend back. If the fish is cooked completely, the head will snap at the right place, and you are DONE with it. You can bend the tail up, and it will break as well.
You can serve the fish like this, and let people eat it as they see fit, but if you want to be really "professional" about it, take a soft knife (not a steak knife, the other kind), and use the BACK (the non blade end) and run it along the backbone of the fish. You'll see how easily the meat separates. Then remove that fillet with a paddle, and put it aside. The skeleton will be exposed, and you just pull that away, and your fish is ready.
You should warn your guests that there will be bones. You never get rid of all of them this way and that's ok. In the same way that you might gnaw at a chicken leg bone, or something like that, you're going to do the same thing, sucking at the bones of the fish. They will taste just as good. Some people really enjoy the bones, most of all. Not me.
Make some whole fish today. Impress your friends. It is not hard to do, and if they are not impressed, they are jaded and you should move on.
Thursday, July 8, 2010
For my dirty bird: revisiting quail
I have a friend who calls himself "the dirty bird." It's one of the things he calls himself. I adore him. The way we met is one of those things that could only happen in NYC. He was waiting tables at a favorite restaurant, and we went at holiday time. He took care of us. We exchanged one liners, he kept up with me. Annalena likes that in a man. Wanna impress her? Show that you have wit. The dirty bird does. And this is for him
One of the very first blog entries I wrote (nearly 500 of them ago), dealt with my nephew's notorious statement "the cuter the animal the sweeter the meat." There is this dichotomy among some of my friends. A few, will not eat meat from an animal they deem "cute." So, Eugene does not eat rabbit, or quail, or lamb, but he will eat beef and pork. On the other hand, there are those like my nephew, who will gravitate toward the cuter animal because he thinks it's going to taste better. Keep him away from venison, that's for sure (Keep me away, too, but for different reasons. Not my cup of meat).
So , anyway, I havent' written much about them since then, if at all, and I don't think I've written about currants.
SOMEONE has to be doing something with them. I am really flummoxed. Fresh currants are not what you buy in the box, that look like small raisins. Those "currants" are really a form of a dried grape. Fresh currants do not dry well, and they are deceptive, in the sense that they look like they should be very sweet. Uh uh. There is a slight sourness about currants that makes them interesting, but not something to put in your lunch box. They are loaded with pectin, which makes them terrific for jam and jelly, and I guess a lot of people are using them that way. Also, they are indispensible in one of my favorite dishes, summer pudding, where they act to hold all that summer fruit together in one large mass. (Hmmm. Need a dessert on tuesday. Maybe...).
Well, where am I going with this? OK, yesterday I wrote about the fennel puree (which was so good, by the way, I'm going to make it again for that meal where I need the dessert). The menu I "appropriatead" the idea from included quail. Now, I lost that menu. Don't ask me how, I just did. It's Murphy's Law in action. I have so many menus that I'm not using, the ONE menu I needed, I can't find. So I didn't remember how they cooked the quail.
Well, necessity propels the cook. Wandering around the market, I saw currants, and began thinking of the dish that I make so often in the fall: the quail in grape sauce. Well, currants certainly don't have the juice of grapes, but with a little help.... Also, that grape sauce dish is a bit sweet, and I wanted something a bit tarter. So I needed to add some liquid, and also to try to push it toward tartness.
Balsamic vinegar seemed to fill the bill: it has that wonderful combination of sour and sweet, the "agrodolce" of Italian cooking. The dish began to take shape, and here it is. Try it if you eat things that are cute.
For two people, get two quail. This works better with the whole, rather than the semi-boned quail. IF you have semi-boned, cut the cooking time on the meat. Salt the birds the morning of the night you're making dinner, just like I advise on all meat dishes.
When you're ready, get a pint of fresh, red currants. Standard wisdom tells you to run the strands of currant through a fork and the berries will just come off. Standard wisdom does not tell you how much you will curse as the strands break and the stems fall back into your currants. Rub them off with your fingers instead. It won't take long. If it did, I'd cook this with the stems (you know how I get).
Have a quarter cup of Balsamic vinegar ready. Put about 3 tablespoons of oliveoil in a wide pan, and when it's hot, add the quail. Brown them well. I would say to plan on 8 minutes. Do two minutes on their backs, flip them and do the same on the breast side, then 2 on each side of the birds. Here, you'll have to move them so that they are laying in the pan, side down rather than back or front, and do it again. It ain't no big thing. If your pan isn't hot enough, and you're not getting the brown you want, cook them longer.
When they're done, pour off most but not all of the fat. Add the currants evenly around the pan, and then the vinegar. Cover the pan, lower the heat, and let them cook for about ten minutes. That's all you need.
The currants will collapse into a heavy , jellied mass, lightened by the reduced balsamic vinegar. If you like - you don't have to - thin this a bit with vinegar, or wine, or chicken stock. Spoon that sauce over the birds, after you plate them.
YOU'RE DONE. If you've cleverly made the puree ahead of time, you can be cooking a veggie in another pan at the same time the quail are cooking, and dinner is on the table in a half hour.
Of course, if you're cooking for someone who finds quail incredibly cute (incidentally, while they may be cute, farm raised quail are the dumbest creatures you can imagine), then you will have to wait for the take out to arrive. And don't even ask if s/he would prefer squab instead.
One of the very first blog entries I wrote (nearly 500 of them ago), dealt with my nephew's notorious statement "the cuter the animal the sweeter the meat." There is this dichotomy among some of my friends. A few, will not eat meat from an animal they deem "cute." So, Eugene does not eat rabbit, or quail, or lamb, but he will eat beef and pork. On the other hand, there are those like my nephew, who will gravitate toward the cuter animal because he thinks it's going to taste better. Keep him away from venison, that's for sure (Keep me away, too, but for different reasons. Not my cup of meat).
So , anyway, I havent' written much about them since then, if at all, and I don't think I've written about currants.
SOMEONE has to be doing something with them. I am really flummoxed. Fresh currants are not what you buy in the box, that look like small raisins. Those "currants" are really a form of a dried grape. Fresh currants do not dry well, and they are deceptive, in the sense that they look like they should be very sweet. Uh uh. There is a slight sourness about currants that makes them interesting, but not something to put in your lunch box. They are loaded with pectin, which makes them terrific for jam and jelly, and I guess a lot of people are using them that way. Also, they are indispensible in one of my favorite dishes, summer pudding, where they act to hold all that summer fruit together in one large mass. (Hmmm. Need a dessert on tuesday. Maybe...).
Well, where am I going with this? OK, yesterday I wrote about the fennel puree (which was so good, by the way, I'm going to make it again for that meal where I need the dessert). The menu I "appropriatead" the idea from included quail. Now, I lost that menu. Don't ask me how, I just did. It's Murphy's Law in action. I have so many menus that I'm not using, the ONE menu I needed, I can't find. So I didn't remember how they cooked the quail.
Well, necessity propels the cook. Wandering around the market, I saw currants, and began thinking of the dish that I make so often in the fall: the quail in grape sauce. Well, currants certainly don't have the juice of grapes, but with a little help.... Also, that grape sauce dish is a bit sweet, and I wanted something a bit tarter. So I needed to add some liquid, and also to try to push it toward tartness.
Balsamic vinegar seemed to fill the bill: it has that wonderful combination of sour and sweet, the "agrodolce" of Italian cooking. The dish began to take shape, and here it is. Try it if you eat things that are cute.
For two people, get two quail. This works better with the whole, rather than the semi-boned quail. IF you have semi-boned, cut the cooking time on the meat. Salt the birds the morning of the night you're making dinner, just like I advise on all meat dishes.
When you're ready, get a pint of fresh, red currants. Standard wisdom tells you to run the strands of currant through a fork and the berries will just come off. Standard wisdom does not tell you how much you will curse as the strands break and the stems fall back into your currants. Rub them off with your fingers instead. It won't take long. If it did, I'd cook this with the stems (you know how I get).
Have a quarter cup of Balsamic vinegar ready. Put about 3 tablespoons of oliveoil in a wide pan, and when it's hot, add the quail. Brown them well. I would say to plan on 8 minutes. Do two minutes on their backs, flip them and do the same on the breast side, then 2 on each side of the birds. Here, you'll have to move them so that they are laying in the pan, side down rather than back or front, and do it again. It ain't no big thing. If your pan isn't hot enough, and you're not getting the brown you want, cook them longer.
When they're done, pour off most but not all of the fat. Add the currants evenly around the pan, and then the vinegar. Cover the pan, lower the heat, and let them cook for about ten minutes. That's all you need.
The currants will collapse into a heavy , jellied mass, lightened by the reduced balsamic vinegar. If you like - you don't have to - thin this a bit with vinegar, or wine, or chicken stock. Spoon that sauce over the birds, after you plate them.
YOU'RE DONE. If you've cleverly made the puree ahead of time, you can be cooking a veggie in another pan at the same time the quail are cooking, and dinner is on the table in a half hour.
Of course, if you're cooking for someone who finds quail incredibly cute (incidentally, while they may be cute, farm raised quail are the dumbest creatures you can imagine), then you will have to wait for the take out to arrive. And don't even ask if s/he would prefer squab instead.
Wednesday, July 7, 2010
Inspired by a menu: fennel puree
Ok, those of you who go BLECH at the thought of anise or licorice flavored things, can stop reading now. Annalena cannot be all things to all, and sometimes, there is a recipe that simply will not appeal to you. The licorice haters will not want this one. But if you, like Annalena, grew up on the flavors of anisette, and other licorishy flavors, you will love this . (Now, interestingly enough, while I love all of the fennels and anise flavors, I cannot stand tarragon. Who can figure?)
Every cook goes through "dry spells" when s/he will find him/herself thinking: "that again?" or "OH NO. I am SO sick of that." Raise your hand if you have felt that way. I know you're out there. I went into one of those phases this week. I had our Monday dinner planned out, but looking ahead...Oh boy. What the hell, am I gonna cook?
So, I did what I do when that happens: I went to the collection of menus I keep, from restaurants. I did not necessarily EAT what is on those menus, but they serve as inspiration. And I found a main dish, from Chez Panisse, which suggested dinner for tonight. That happens a lot by the way. If you enjoy cooking, I suggest you bookmark their web page (www.chezpanisse.com), and check the cafe' menu. Every day.
So, what were they serving that was the suggestion: quail with fennel puree.
Hmmmm. I didn't jump to the quail right away ,but the fennel puree. Now THAT sounded interesting. I had no idea how to make it, but ... A little internet research and then... there we are.
I have a blog entry from the early years called "fennel, what is fennel?" trying to copy my spiritual sister Gertrude Stein and her essay "Nickel what is nickel?" which is a reference that I'm sure NONE of you got. It's ok. Go read "Tender Buttons." It will make you laugh.
OK, enough of that digression. Anyway, I haven't written much about fennel because mostly I put it in salads, or rip off big hunks of it and crunch on it when I'm cooking. I didn't think of pureeing it. So I found a few recipes, and made my way to this one, which is an original synthesis.
For it, you need a BIG bunch of fennel, the truly grown up stuff. None of these minibunches that work so well in salads, or fish risotti, ok? Clean it up by getting rid of the fronds and the stems, and then cut it into big chunks. You don't have to be surgical here, because you're going to puree it. Get it into a big pot, with a few tablespoons of butter, and just enough water to cover it. Put it on a medium flame, cover the pot, and then let it cook for about five minutes. While that is happening, peel about twice the amount of potatoes, and cut them into chunks. Then, get those into the pot with the fennel, and add a bit more water. This time, add a nice teaspoon or so of salt. Again, let the thing cook , and check the water level. You don't want to drown the vegetables, but you do want them just barely covered.
The reason why you add the veggies at different times, by the way, is because the fennel is more fibrous and it will take longer to cook. You want this to cook away until you can pierce both the fennel and potatoes, easily, with the tip of a knife. When you get there, you're done. Sort of.
Let this mass cool, then, if you're feeling particularly homespun and old fashioned, pass it through a food mill. If, on the other hand, you just want to get it done, use the food processor and pulse it. Pulse it because if you run the machine at full, the potatoes will get gummy (trust Annalena on this). The foodmill will give you a chunkier, rougher dish, the processor, a smoother one. But you can control that with pulsing . Season it, as you like.
There is no dairy in this preparation because, in my opinion, the dairy cuts the fennel flavor. If that is something you WANT to do, by all means, add some whole milk or light cream. Do not go near the lowfat stuff with a puree like this. If you want to push the flavor of the fennel up, however, find those fennel seeds on your spice rack (in fact, you could add them at the start. When we were kids, we drank fennel seed tea a lot. The flavor comes out in the liquid, and, as Nana would say, 'it's good for what ais ya.' You know what that means, so don't use too many of them).
And that's the dish. In fact, I WILL be making quail with this. I'm not sure what that preparation will be, but rest assured, Annalena will keep you posted.
Every cook goes through "dry spells" when s/he will find him/herself thinking: "that again?" or "OH NO. I am SO sick of that." Raise your hand if you have felt that way. I know you're out there. I went into one of those phases this week. I had our Monday dinner planned out, but looking ahead...Oh boy. What the hell, am I gonna cook?
So, I did what I do when that happens: I went to the collection of menus I keep, from restaurants. I did not necessarily EAT what is on those menus, but they serve as inspiration. And I found a main dish, from Chez Panisse, which suggested dinner for tonight. That happens a lot by the way. If you enjoy cooking, I suggest you bookmark their web page (www.chezpanisse.com), and check the cafe' menu. Every day.
So, what were they serving that was the suggestion: quail with fennel puree.
Hmmmm. I didn't jump to the quail right away ,but the fennel puree. Now THAT sounded interesting. I had no idea how to make it, but ... A little internet research and then... there we are.
I have a blog entry from the early years called "fennel, what is fennel?" trying to copy my spiritual sister Gertrude Stein and her essay "Nickel what is nickel?" which is a reference that I'm sure NONE of you got. It's ok. Go read "Tender Buttons." It will make you laugh.
OK, enough of that digression. Anyway, I haven't written much about fennel because mostly I put it in salads, or rip off big hunks of it and crunch on it when I'm cooking. I didn't think of pureeing it. So I found a few recipes, and made my way to this one, which is an original synthesis.
For it, you need a BIG bunch of fennel, the truly grown up stuff. None of these minibunches that work so well in salads, or fish risotti, ok? Clean it up by getting rid of the fronds and the stems, and then cut it into big chunks. You don't have to be surgical here, because you're going to puree it. Get it into a big pot, with a few tablespoons of butter, and just enough water to cover it. Put it on a medium flame, cover the pot, and then let it cook for about five minutes. While that is happening, peel about twice the amount of potatoes, and cut them into chunks. Then, get those into the pot with the fennel, and add a bit more water. This time, add a nice teaspoon or so of salt. Again, let the thing cook , and check the water level. You don't want to drown the vegetables, but you do want them just barely covered.
The reason why you add the veggies at different times, by the way, is because the fennel is more fibrous and it will take longer to cook. You want this to cook away until you can pierce both the fennel and potatoes, easily, with the tip of a knife. When you get there, you're done. Sort of.
Let this mass cool, then, if you're feeling particularly homespun and old fashioned, pass it through a food mill. If, on the other hand, you just want to get it done, use the food processor and pulse it. Pulse it because if you run the machine at full, the potatoes will get gummy (trust Annalena on this). The foodmill will give you a chunkier, rougher dish, the processor, a smoother one. But you can control that with pulsing . Season it, as you like.
There is no dairy in this preparation because, in my opinion, the dairy cuts the fennel flavor. If that is something you WANT to do, by all means, add some whole milk or light cream. Do not go near the lowfat stuff with a puree like this. If you want to push the flavor of the fennel up, however, find those fennel seeds on your spice rack (in fact, you could add them at the start. When we were kids, we drank fennel seed tea a lot. The flavor comes out in the liquid, and, as Nana would say, 'it's good for what ais ya.' You know what that means, so don't use too many of them).
And that's the dish. In fact, I WILL be making quail with this. I'm not sure what that preparation will be, but rest assured, Annalena will keep you posted.
Friday, July 2, 2010
I have sinned. Sort of. Marshmallow Treats
During the 60s, one of the many formative periods of Annalena's life, there was a genre of movie that was wildly popular: the nun flick. Yes, these were movies about nuns. "The Singing Nun" (with Debbie Reynolds) is one that many will remember. Who remembers the "The Trouble With Angels" series? There was the first film, and then a follow up "Where Angels Go, Trouble Follows." Yes, it was the start of "nuns can be fun." Now, there isn't much discussion of "The Trouble With Angels." It hardly rises to the cult classic status of movies like "The Women," but think about this for a minute: the director was Ida Lupino. Among the nuns were Rosalind Russell, as the Mother Superior, and Mary Wickes, as Sister Clarissa. Hayley Mills was in it. Can you get more gay than this movie?
So, where is Annalena going? Well, without going into the plot details, there is a need to slow down some villains . Sister Clarissa and another nun report to the Reverend Mother "Reverend Mother, I have sinned." When Ms. Russell looks at them quizzically, they take tools out from under their habits, clearly indicating that they have messed with the cars.
Now, we can get into tremendous philosophical debates as to when a sin is not a sin, and so on and so forth. I will leave that to the theologically oriented and the more philosphically inclined than yours truly. I will simply report that I find myself in the same situation today.
You know by now that I pride myself on my seasonal, fresh market, all natural kitchen and cooking. I have preached it loud and clear.
Well, today one could argue I fell off the wagon. For good cause. Did I sin?
Of course I did. Read on.
Marshmallow treats. Don't lie. You like them. You probably love them. With rice crispies, of course, or cocoa crispies. In what some would call a revolting development, there is a "recipe" circulating on the internet for a variation with fruity pebbles. Dare I say that this is NOT the kind of thing that Annalena makes.
Well... MADE. See, here's the story. A very good friend of mine told me, in another context, that his favorite cereal is fruit loops. He also told me, in another context, that they never have fruit loops in his home. All of their cereal is of the healthy "Meusli" kind of cereal (Incidentally, Annalena feels that eating Meusli is sort of like eating saw dust with dried bits of fruit in it). Annalena happens to ADORE this man. In fact ,when her dungeon is finished being constructed (you DID know about that, didn't you?), Annalena plans to keep him there for her personal , ahem "satisfaction." And what better way to lure a man to your dungeon than with marshmallow treats?
Look, you've got to use what you've got to get what you want, right?
OK, putting all of that aside, let's face it. You made these at some p oint in your life, probably with your mom. And you don't make them anymore because.... And when no one is looking, you buy one, eat it, and then make comments about how revolting it is when you see someone else eating them.
I've got your number. So, don't keep the recipe. Send it on to someone else.
Right.
Here's what you need. A 9x13 baking dish, of any material. A half stick of unsalted butter, a bag of marshmallows (the ten ounce bag, big ones or small ones), and a large box of cereal. All cereal comes in the same size box. If you're confused, as I suspect at least one of you is, you need the one that has six cups of dry cereal in it. Read the side panel on "nutrition" and figure it out. Grease the pan with the half stick of butter, then toss it, and the marshmallows, into a big pot. Turn the heat to low, and stir this up until the marshmallows begin to melt and get stringy. It won't take long. Now pour in the cereal, take it off the heat, and stir, stir, stir, to incorporate everything. Pour it into the baking dish, wet your hands and press it down. Then let it sit until it firms up. That won't take long. Either cut em in the pan, or dump the thing out and cut it on a board or something else. You can be creative if you like (I thought about that) , or just cut squares (what I wound up doing). I used fruit loops and the color is, well, interesting. Festive is a word you might use to describe them.
Go ahead, be a kid again. They're fun, and at least there's very little cholesterol in them.
So, where is Annalena going? Well, without going into the plot details, there is a need to slow down some villains . Sister Clarissa and another nun report to the Reverend Mother "Reverend Mother, I have sinned." When Ms. Russell looks at them quizzically, they take tools out from under their habits, clearly indicating that they have messed with the cars.
Now, we can get into tremendous philosophical debates as to when a sin is not a sin, and so on and so forth. I will leave that to the theologically oriented and the more philosphically inclined than yours truly. I will simply report that I find myself in the same situation today.
You know by now that I pride myself on my seasonal, fresh market, all natural kitchen and cooking. I have preached it loud and clear.
Well, today one could argue I fell off the wagon. For good cause. Did I sin?
Of course I did. Read on.
Marshmallow treats. Don't lie. You like them. You probably love them. With rice crispies, of course, or cocoa crispies. In what some would call a revolting development, there is a "recipe" circulating on the internet for a variation with fruity pebbles. Dare I say that this is NOT the kind of thing that Annalena makes.
Well... MADE. See, here's the story. A very good friend of mine told me, in another context, that his favorite cereal is fruit loops. He also told me, in another context, that they never have fruit loops in his home. All of their cereal is of the healthy "Meusli" kind of cereal (Incidentally, Annalena feels that eating Meusli is sort of like eating saw dust with dried bits of fruit in it). Annalena happens to ADORE this man. In fact ,when her dungeon is finished being constructed (you DID know about that, didn't you?), Annalena plans to keep him there for her personal , ahem "satisfaction." And what better way to lure a man to your dungeon than with marshmallow treats?
Look, you've got to use what you've got to get what you want, right?
OK, putting all of that aside, let's face it. You made these at some p oint in your life, probably with your mom. And you don't make them anymore because.... And when no one is looking, you buy one, eat it, and then make comments about how revolting it is when you see someone else eating them.
I've got your number. So, don't keep the recipe. Send it on to someone else.
Right.
Here's what you need. A 9x13 baking dish, of any material. A half stick of unsalted butter, a bag of marshmallows (the ten ounce bag, big ones or small ones), and a large box of cereal. All cereal comes in the same size box. If you're confused, as I suspect at least one of you is, you need the one that has six cups of dry cereal in it. Read the side panel on "nutrition" and figure it out. Grease the pan with the half stick of butter, then toss it, and the marshmallows, into a big pot. Turn the heat to low, and stir this up until the marshmallows begin to melt and get stringy. It won't take long. Now pour in the cereal, take it off the heat, and stir, stir, stir, to incorporate everything. Pour it into the baking dish, wet your hands and press it down. Then let it sit until it firms up. That won't take long. Either cut em in the pan, or dump the thing out and cut it on a board or something else. You can be creative if you like (I thought about that) , or just cut squares (what I wound up doing). I used fruit loops and the color is, well, interesting. Festive is a word you might use to describe them.
Go ahead, be a kid again. They're fun, and at least there's very little cholesterol in them.
It's still here: pasta with asparagus sauce
One of the things that you can never really predict, is what Mother Nature is going to do, and how it will impact agriculture. NY has had a very warm early spring and early summer (I guess it's officially summer. I'm waiting for tomatoes, though), and everything came out early. When that happens, I expect things to end early too, so I assumed that, by the time that we came back from our SF jaunt at the beginning of June, asparagus would be gone.
Not quite. As Mr. Sondheim wrote it, "They're still here." There aren't a lot of them, but they're here. And as long as they are, I'll be cookin' and eatin them.
I had picked up a few bunches of them at the market, and was planning to do one of my usuals: steam em, or grill em, and then there was this recipe in a book I'm reading: "I loved, I lost, I made spaghetti." Yes, Annalena reads popular culture , especially if there are recipes in the culture being read. There are plenty here. This is my take on one of her recipes.
You can change things here. I will make some suggestions, but feel free to improvise. I am sure that Ms. Melucci, fine Italian cook that she is, will tell you to do the same. Here goes.
The recipe called for dried angel hair spaghetti, and by all means, use that if you have it. I used fresh spinach linguine which, in retrospect, was not the best choice in the world. Angel hair does seem to have an affinity for asparagus. And you can have a very quick dish. If you use the angelhair, or fresh pasta, make the sauce first, because your pasta is going to cook REAL quick. You want about half a pound.
TO the sauce: first, prep your asparagus. Here, you want thin ones, a pound. Again, our author discusses the technique of just snapping them because they will break at the appropriate point. She's right. Do that, and then cut the piece that has the tip left on it, into pieces about an inch long. Save the tougher parts to make vegetable broth (easy to do). To make the sauce itself, put two tablespoons of olive oil in a pan, and then add a couple of cloves of peeled, sliced garlic and a bit of red pepper flakes into it. You just want to do some warming here, not thorough cooking. If the garlic gets too colored, the asparagus flavor will be lost. Also add a half teaspoon of salt.
Put the asparagus in with the rest of the stuff, and cook it, at medium heat. Here, Ms. Melucci and I differ. She calls for five minutes. If that were all the cooking you were going to do, I'd agree. But there's more to come. So I would say, two minutes, MAX. Then add about a third of a cup of white wine. (I differ here, too, as Ms. Melucci calls for half a cup. I think that's too much). Bring it to a boil, and cook the thing for about another four minutes .
Need I say that, at this point you should be bringing your pasta water to a boil? Well...
Your sauce is pretty much done when you finish that four minutes of cooking, and when the pasta is done to your liking, toss it into the sauce, and mix it all together. You can stop here, if you like and have a vegan dish. I agree with the author's choice to add cheese, however. She adds pecorino romano. That is terrific with this dish, but there are other cheeses. Fontina has a natural affinity with asparagus. So, too, does ricotta. And... cream? Perche non? Use any of these dairy items, and feel free to tell me what you did. Finally, taste this because I betcha you'll want more salt in the dish.
You should think of this recipe as "license" to play with other, quick cooking vegetables. Fava beans? Yes. Peas? Absolutely. You can go on and on with this, and again, while the veggies are fresh and delicious, you must. It's not a should.
And if you can find asparagus, keep on working with them. They will be gone at some point.
Not quite. As Mr. Sondheim wrote it, "They're still here." There aren't a lot of them, but they're here. And as long as they are, I'll be cookin' and eatin them.
I had picked up a few bunches of them at the market, and was planning to do one of my usuals: steam em, or grill em, and then there was this recipe in a book I'm reading: "I loved, I lost, I made spaghetti." Yes, Annalena reads popular culture , especially if there are recipes in the culture being read. There are plenty here. This is my take on one of her recipes.
You can change things here. I will make some suggestions, but feel free to improvise. I am sure that Ms. Melucci, fine Italian cook that she is, will tell you to do the same. Here goes.
The recipe called for dried angel hair spaghetti, and by all means, use that if you have it. I used fresh spinach linguine which, in retrospect, was not the best choice in the world. Angel hair does seem to have an affinity for asparagus. And you can have a very quick dish. If you use the angelhair, or fresh pasta, make the sauce first, because your pasta is going to cook REAL quick. You want about half a pound.
TO the sauce: first, prep your asparagus. Here, you want thin ones, a pound. Again, our author discusses the technique of just snapping them because they will break at the appropriate point. She's right. Do that, and then cut the piece that has the tip left on it, into pieces about an inch long. Save the tougher parts to make vegetable broth (easy to do). To make the sauce itself, put two tablespoons of olive oil in a pan, and then add a couple of cloves of peeled, sliced garlic and a bit of red pepper flakes into it. You just want to do some warming here, not thorough cooking. If the garlic gets too colored, the asparagus flavor will be lost. Also add a half teaspoon of salt.
Put the asparagus in with the rest of the stuff, and cook it, at medium heat. Here, Ms. Melucci and I differ. She calls for five minutes. If that were all the cooking you were going to do, I'd agree. But there's more to come. So I would say, two minutes, MAX. Then add about a third of a cup of white wine. (I differ here, too, as Ms. Melucci calls for half a cup. I think that's too much). Bring it to a boil, and cook the thing for about another four minutes .
Need I say that, at this point you should be bringing your pasta water to a boil? Well...
Your sauce is pretty much done when you finish that four minutes of cooking, and when the pasta is done to your liking, toss it into the sauce, and mix it all together. You can stop here, if you like and have a vegan dish. I agree with the author's choice to add cheese, however. She adds pecorino romano. That is terrific with this dish, but there are other cheeses. Fontina has a natural affinity with asparagus. So, too, does ricotta. And... cream? Perche non? Use any of these dairy items, and feel free to tell me what you did. Finally, taste this because I betcha you'll want more salt in the dish.
You should think of this recipe as "license" to play with other, quick cooking vegetables. Fava beans? Yes. Peas? Absolutely. You can go on and on with this, and again, while the veggies are fresh and delicious, you must. It's not a should.
And if you can find asparagus, keep on working with them. They will be gone at some point.
Thursday, July 1, 2010
Where's the beef? Black bean chili
Annalena has written about chili before, and how , in her view, it does not include beans. Well, there is a clarification in order. Annalena does not mix meat and beans in her chili and almost always makes a standard, meat chili. Indeed, in a recent contest where Annalena judged, but was not permitted to compete, her meat chili was the best item there, if I do say so myself.
But there IS an argument for vegetarian chilis. And I want to share a wonderful one with you.
I have also written about the wonderfull vegetarian restaurant "Greens," found in San Francisco . I wanna take my friend Bobby to Sunday brunch here one day. Well, as in all SF restaurants, the menu changes constantly. One item, however, has been on the menu since the day the restaurant opened: their black bean chili. There is a reason for this: it is GOOD. It is time consuming, but it is GOOD. And it is easy to do. You do need to do some shopping for this, but you will not regret having these items in the house. And for the two vegans out there who read this blog, if you do not add the dairy accountrements, this is vegan.
Chili in the summer? Why not.
Now, this is going to sound like a long list of ingredients, and it is. But think about them. You will use everything again. They are standards : staples. If you cook, you need these things in the house.
YOu start with a pound of black beans. Dried ones. I am partial to small black beans from Rancho Gordo, but use what you got. Wash them, and then put them in a big pot, covered with water, and let them soak overnight. (this takes commitment, I told you). The next day, drain the beans, while you collect your other ingredients: three onions, and four cloves of garlic. Peel and chop those, and keep them separate. (you have that stuff in the house. I know you do). Here's where you may need to start doing some shopping. You need cumin SEEDS. Not ground cumin, the SEEDS. Also, dried oregano. You will also need a chili powder of some kind. I strongly recommend you get a "varietal." You can now buy chili powders based on one type of chili, and ancho is called for here. You will also need some cayenne pepper and paprika (THOSE you have in the house) and a bit of chipotle pepper. You can use a dried one, or a powder, but that you probably dont have in the house. Chipotles are dried jalapenos. I guess you could use a fresh jalapeno if you had to. Finally one bay leaf and a large (28 ounce) can of tomatoes (use 35 if that's all you have).
Okay, put the drained beans in a really big pot and cover them with 2 inches of water. Add the bay leaf and start cooking them at a low simmer while you get the rest of the stuff ready. Get a small but sturdy frying pan, and add the cumin seeds. How many? Four teaspoons. That's a tablespoon and a teaspoon. Shake the pan, and keep an eye on the seeds. They will darken and start to smell toasty. Add the same amount of oregano leaves, and when you get more aroma, pour that all off into a bowl. Add 2 TABLESPOONS of the chili powder, as well as four teaspoons of the paprika and a quarter teaspoon of cayenne pepper.
Now, get out an old coffee bean grinder. You have one somewhere. If not, invest in one. They cost about ten bucks. Grind the spices. THIS IS IMPORTANT. You have to grind the spices yourself. When they're ground, pour them out and add half a teaspoon of the chipotle, or one diced fresh jalapeno.
Let's cook. Pour three tablespoons of vegetable oil into a very largepan and add the onions with a teaspoon of salt. When the onions soften, add the garlic and cook for a minute, then add that spice mixture and stir it all up. Lower the heat, while you open that can of tomatoes. Pour it into the pan, and push down on the solids, breaking them up. Stir this all together, bring it to a simmer and cook for fifteen minutes. Now, pour the mass into the beans, lower the heat, and go and read a book for thirty minutes. Taste for salt. You'll want more, I guarantee it. So do so, then go back to reading for another 30 minutes. Your beans will probably be nice and soft now, but if they're not, keep on cooking till you get the texture you like. Add salt along the way as you see fit. The water will go off, you'll get a brick read product, and it will be spicy.
That wasn't hard, was it? And you've got enough food for at least 8 hearty appetites. You can eat this just as it is (which is how I love it best), or add some sour cream, or grated cheese, or more hot peppers, or cilantro, or whatever you like with your chili.
This also freezes beautifully. So, if you have the time make this. There are worst things than having a nice container of beautifully fragrant, tasty chili in your freezer for the night when cooking is NOT an option.
Annalena will lend you the spices if you need em. And you're nice to her
But there IS an argument for vegetarian chilis. And I want to share a wonderful one with you.
I have also written about the wonderfull vegetarian restaurant "Greens," found in San Francisco . I wanna take my friend Bobby to Sunday brunch here one day. Well, as in all SF restaurants, the menu changes constantly. One item, however, has been on the menu since the day the restaurant opened: their black bean chili. There is a reason for this: it is GOOD. It is time consuming, but it is GOOD. And it is easy to do. You do need to do some shopping for this, but you will not regret having these items in the house. And for the two vegans out there who read this blog, if you do not add the dairy accountrements, this is vegan.
Chili in the summer? Why not.
Now, this is going to sound like a long list of ingredients, and it is. But think about them. You will use everything again. They are standards : staples. If you cook, you need these things in the house.
YOu start with a pound of black beans. Dried ones. I am partial to small black beans from Rancho Gordo, but use what you got. Wash them, and then put them in a big pot, covered with water, and let them soak overnight. (this takes commitment, I told you). The next day, drain the beans, while you collect your other ingredients: three onions, and four cloves of garlic. Peel and chop those, and keep them separate. (you have that stuff in the house. I know you do). Here's where you may need to start doing some shopping. You need cumin SEEDS. Not ground cumin, the SEEDS. Also, dried oregano. You will also need a chili powder of some kind. I strongly recommend you get a "varietal." You can now buy chili powders based on one type of chili, and ancho is called for here. You will also need some cayenne pepper and paprika (THOSE you have in the house) and a bit of chipotle pepper. You can use a dried one, or a powder, but that you probably dont have in the house. Chipotles are dried jalapenos. I guess you could use a fresh jalapeno if you had to. Finally one bay leaf and a large (28 ounce) can of tomatoes (use 35 if that's all you have).
Okay, put the drained beans in a really big pot and cover them with 2 inches of water. Add the bay leaf and start cooking them at a low simmer while you get the rest of the stuff ready. Get a small but sturdy frying pan, and add the cumin seeds. How many? Four teaspoons. That's a tablespoon and a teaspoon. Shake the pan, and keep an eye on the seeds. They will darken and start to smell toasty. Add the same amount of oregano leaves, and when you get more aroma, pour that all off into a bowl. Add 2 TABLESPOONS of the chili powder, as well as four teaspoons of the paprika and a quarter teaspoon of cayenne pepper.
Now, get out an old coffee bean grinder. You have one somewhere. If not, invest in one. They cost about ten bucks. Grind the spices. THIS IS IMPORTANT. You have to grind the spices yourself. When they're ground, pour them out and add half a teaspoon of the chipotle, or one diced fresh jalapeno.
Let's cook. Pour three tablespoons of vegetable oil into a very largepan and add the onions with a teaspoon of salt. When the onions soften, add the garlic and cook for a minute, then add that spice mixture and stir it all up. Lower the heat, while you open that can of tomatoes. Pour it into the pan, and push down on the solids, breaking them up. Stir this all together, bring it to a simmer and cook for fifteen minutes. Now, pour the mass into the beans, lower the heat, and go and read a book for thirty minutes. Taste for salt. You'll want more, I guarantee it. So do so, then go back to reading for another 30 minutes. Your beans will probably be nice and soft now, but if they're not, keep on cooking till you get the texture you like. Add salt along the way as you see fit. The water will go off, you'll get a brick read product, and it will be spicy.
That wasn't hard, was it? And you've got enough food for at least 8 hearty appetites. You can eat this just as it is (which is how I love it best), or add some sour cream, or grated cheese, or more hot peppers, or cilantro, or whatever you like with your chili.
This also freezes beautifully. So, if you have the time make this. There are worst things than having a nice container of beautifully fragrant, tasty chili in your freezer for the night when cooking is NOT an option.
Annalena will lend you the spices if you need em. And you're nice to her
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