The careful reader will note that the Guyman and I seem to eat a lot of veal chops. It is true. In absolute terms, it's probably not a lot, but I would say we have them once a month. And in relative terms, that's a lot. Most people do not make them at home, and you very rarely see them on menus in restaurants. Veal chops are expensive: I think the least you can fairly see them for on a menu, is 38 dollars or so. They are big, meaty, delicious, but that kind of cost is not going to sit well with many people. And it probably shouldn't. When Annalena has eaten veal chops in restaurants, she has inevitably been disappointed. Either the fat/meat ratio has been skewed way too far in the favor of the fat, or the kitchen has decided that a veal chop is a steak and has cooked it that way. Quite wrong.
But we love them. So we eat them at home. In Annalena's mind, the way to cook a veal chop is to treat it almost like pork. And, indeed, this recipe could very easily be converted to one using thick pork chops. It works with chicken, and there is a recipe for such on this blog. But let's look at this special occasion meal (and you define "special occasion." I think most people interpret it too strictly).
You need good quality chops, which seems like a contradiction in terms, but make sure you're getting stuff that is more meat than bone and fat. Buy them from someone reputable. They will be probably at least a half inch, perhaps 3/4 inch thick, and that's how you want them. Any thicker and they will be difficult to cook properly. As with all proteins, Annalena suggests that you salt them the night before you cook them.
The day of, when the chops are coming to room temperature, preheat your oven to 350. While it preheats, prepare yourself a stuffing of fontina cheese (about an ounce per chop) and prosciutto (about half an ounce, or one slice, per chop. Incidentally, Annalena recommends that you look for La Quercia prosciutto, which is made here in the good old USA and is terrific). Cut the cheese into very small cubes, and cut the ham up nice and small. Mix it together.
Take each chop and find the thickest portion, away from the bone. With a small knife, cut a pocket into the center of the meat. Work carefully, but there is no need to slice it open like an envelope. Once you have an "in," you can even do this with your fingers. Get it deep enough so that you can force the filling in without it falling out of the side of the chop. Try to avoid needing to close them, with a toothpick or something like that.
When that's done, heat about two tablespoons each of butter and olive oil in a pan, and when it's hot, drop in the chops, and let them sear for about four minutes to each side. Then move them to the oven, and let them cook at 350 for ten minutes. This should cook them through, to medium rare, and melt the cheese nicely.
When this comes out of the oven, move the chops to a plate, and pour off the fat. Off the heat, pour in about a quarter cup of dry marsala, or some other fortified wine. Heat it (keep your face away to avoid the potential of flaming alcohol) until it's reduced by about half, and put the chops in. Turn them in the sauce, and...
you are celebrating. Again, what you are celebrating is up to you. I thought we should celebrate Wednesday, and why not?
Thursday, August 25, 2011
Wednesday, August 24, 2011
The process at work: okra and pepper stew (is it Turkish)
Annalena gets asked, with some frequency, a variation of "how do you plan your meals?" Well, "plan" may be far too kind and organized a word for what goes on when Annalena cooks. This entry is dedicated to what is definitely a "process," but is far from planning.
You all know the situations when you know what you SHOULD be thinking about, and what you SHOULD be doing, but for whatever reason, you aren't doing it. It does not indicate a failing on your part (certainly not on Annalena's), it just "is." And so it has been this week.
And it was against that background that today, at 3, I realized that I have very little idea of what I was going to serve for dinner. I knew what the protein was going to be, because I had defrosted some very expensive, beautiful veal chops. But for the rest... I had begun to think Israeli couscous - and then realized there was corn on the cob in the fridge. Then, for vegetables, I knew I had braised a bunch of artichokes over the weekend, and artichokes go beautifully with veal.
Which probably explains why I bought peppers at the farmers market today, and then thought "OH SHIT. The artichokes."
And, of course, I had forgotten the okra that was also in the fridge, sitting there since Sunday.
Now, the ORIGINAL plan had been to take the corn off the cob and make creamy okra corn saute'. Nothing wrong with that, except I planned to make it the same night I was serving pasta with flounder sauce.
OK, plan "B." Put them in the refirgerator and forget about them. I COULD have made them on Tuesday, when we had spicy lamb chops, except I forgot and made fregola.
So, here we were, with corn on the cob and okra, already in the house, and gorgeous red and yellow peppers coming home with me. And heirloom tomatoes, in addition to the ones that were already at home that I forgot about. And a package of La Quercia prosciutto, that had cost a queen's ransom and would go bad, soon.
And I had no idea what to make. And then, little by little, it came to me, literally between 3pm, and entering the apartment, at 6:30. I would cut a pocket in the veal chops and fill them with prosciutto and fontina cheese, and reduce marsala to make a sauce. Tomatoes: yes, tomato salad. With basil. Now to the vegetable. SHIT. Still no ideas. Peppers, yes.... with basil.
Oh, wait. Basil in the salad already. What else goes with peppers? Hmmm. Maybe oregano. I could taste it. Yes... But what of the okra.
I convinced myself that there is a Turkish dish that involves peppers and okra, although after the fact, I find that there is absolutely no such thing. But you know what? If I'm the first person to make this, I will take credit for it. It was good. It went well with the simple boiled corn on the cob (at this time of year, all you need to do is boil it in salted water), the stuffed chops, and the tomato salad. This is maybe the most difficult dish I made tonight, and it ain't too hard. And now I want you to make it. And I want you to play with different vegetables and seasonings.
You start with four medium sized peppers. Try to vary the colors, which should be a snap this time of year. Cut them into inch sized strips and put them aside, while you prepare about 3/4 pound of okra. Remember, you do it very easily: just cut the tip off: the end that looks like the top of an acorn, and leave them whole. If you happen to be able to get purple and green okra, go ahead. Three whole cloves of garlic, smashed, and a nice hefty handful of fresh oregano, still on the stem.
Coat the bottom of a pan with olive oil, and add everything at once. Put a nice amount of salt in, because peppers tend to need a lot of it. Bring the heat to medium high. When the veggies begin to sizzle, turn them once or twice, and then lower the heat, and turn the heat to medium low.
Both the peppers and okra will give up water, and you will be "smothering" the vegetables just like you did with the peppers and onions. You may find the peppers picking up some carmelization and there's nothing wrong with that. Nothing wrong if they don't either. Look at them every few minutes and give them a stir. Then, after ten minutes, take the pot off the heat, and let it sit, covered for five minutes.
The veggies will continue to cook when they're off the heat, getting nice and soft. I found that the garlic really disappeared into the vegetables, and the oregano softened to the point where there were really very few tough stems in the dish.
It was, simply , delicious. And I'm thinking that those eggplants in the fridge that aren't gonna cook themselves, might very well get used in something along these lines. Perhaps then, the basil will go in, because I won't make a tomato salad this time.
Folks, if I haven't convinced you to give okra another try yet, there ain't too much more I can do other than to say, Annalena WANTS you to try it, and whatever Annalena wants....
You all know the situations when you know what you SHOULD be thinking about, and what you SHOULD be doing, but for whatever reason, you aren't doing it. It does not indicate a failing on your part (certainly not on Annalena's), it just "is." And so it has been this week.
And it was against that background that today, at 3, I realized that I have very little idea of what I was going to serve for dinner. I knew what the protein was going to be, because I had defrosted some very expensive, beautiful veal chops. But for the rest... I had begun to think Israeli couscous - and then realized there was corn on the cob in the fridge. Then, for vegetables, I knew I had braised a bunch of artichokes over the weekend, and artichokes go beautifully with veal.
Which probably explains why I bought peppers at the farmers market today, and then thought "OH SHIT. The artichokes."
And, of course, I had forgotten the okra that was also in the fridge, sitting there since Sunday.
Now, the ORIGINAL plan had been to take the corn off the cob and make creamy okra corn saute'. Nothing wrong with that, except I planned to make it the same night I was serving pasta with flounder sauce.
OK, plan "B." Put them in the refirgerator and forget about them. I COULD have made them on Tuesday, when we had spicy lamb chops, except I forgot and made fregola.
So, here we were, with corn on the cob and okra, already in the house, and gorgeous red and yellow peppers coming home with me. And heirloom tomatoes, in addition to the ones that were already at home that I forgot about. And a package of La Quercia prosciutto, that had cost a queen's ransom and would go bad, soon.
And I had no idea what to make. And then, little by little, it came to me, literally between 3pm, and entering the apartment, at 6:30. I would cut a pocket in the veal chops and fill them with prosciutto and fontina cheese, and reduce marsala to make a sauce. Tomatoes: yes, tomato salad. With basil. Now to the vegetable. SHIT. Still no ideas. Peppers, yes.... with basil.
Oh, wait. Basil in the salad already. What else goes with peppers? Hmmm. Maybe oregano. I could taste it. Yes... But what of the okra.
I convinced myself that there is a Turkish dish that involves peppers and okra, although after the fact, I find that there is absolutely no such thing. But you know what? If I'm the first person to make this, I will take credit for it. It was good. It went well with the simple boiled corn on the cob (at this time of year, all you need to do is boil it in salted water), the stuffed chops, and the tomato salad. This is maybe the most difficult dish I made tonight, and it ain't too hard. And now I want you to make it. And I want you to play with different vegetables and seasonings.
You start with four medium sized peppers. Try to vary the colors, which should be a snap this time of year. Cut them into inch sized strips and put them aside, while you prepare about 3/4 pound of okra. Remember, you do it very easily: just cut the tip off: the end that looks like the top of an acorn, and leave them whole. If you happen to be able to get purple and green okra, go ahead. Three whole cloves of garlic, smashed, and a nice hefty handful of fresh oregano, still on the stem.
Coat the bottom of a pan with olive oil, and add everything at once. Put a nice amount of salt in, because peppers tend to need a lot of it. Bring the heat to medium high. When the veggies begin to sizzle, turn them once or twice, and then lower the heat, and turn the heat to medium low.
Both the peppers and okra will give up water, and you will be "smothering" the vegetables just like you did with the peppers and onions. You may find the peppers picking up some carmelization and there's nothing wrong with that. Nothing wrong if they don't either. Look at them every few minutes and give them a stir. Then, after ten minutes, take the pot off the heat, and let it sit, covered for five minutes.
The veggies will continue to cook when they're off the heat, getting nice and soft. I found that the garlic really disappeared into the vegetables, and the oregano softened to the point where there were really very few tough stems in the dish.
It was, simply , delicious. And I'm thinking that those eggplants in the fridge that aren't gonna cook themselves, might very well get used in something along these lines. Perhaps then, the basil will go in, because I won't make a tomato salad this time.
Folks, if I haven't convinced you to give okra another try yet, there ain't too much more I can do other than to say, Annalena WANTS you to try it, and whatever Annalena wants....
Sunday, August 21, 2011
For the crust phobic: plum almond tart
I believe I have written, in the past, of how as the seasons move along, the "color" of the season changes. When it is early spring, it seems to Annalena that all is pink (strawberries, rhubarb), and light green (asparagus). As we move through the summer, the colors become more varied, but still pale until we get to late summer/early fall, when the colors are very intense, and now, in late August, the dominant colors are dark red (peppers; some peaches and necatrines) and purple (eggplant, peppers again, and plums). Indeed, the year is moving along. There are no more cherries, the abundance of apricots is slowing down, and the first grapes are here (nimrods. One of my favorites). And plums are at their peak. You could eat a different plum every day for two weeks. And perhaps you should. Get to know the differences. During the course of a year, you will eat different types of peaches, but probably not know it. With plums, you know. Green ones. Blue ones. Purple ones with red flesh. Purple ones with green flesh. And so on, and so forth.
Annalena had a large bowl of plums begging to be used for something. They were the "Italian plum" variety. Slightly dry, dark purple skin, and green flesh. They are ideal for baking, because unlike many plums, it is very easy to cut them and remove them from their pits. And the baking process makes them unbelievably sweet.
This is arecipe from one of David Lebovitz's books. I like it because it is ideal for the baker/cook who wants a pie, but fears pie crust.
Believe me, I understand that one. Even though my pies are now good, I still believe that every good pie crust is a gift from beyond. But this one, well, it's very easy, and it's not really a pie crust: it's a "tart" crust, and you know what's so great about it? You don't have to roll it out.
Ok, let's start. You need a tart pan. Nine inches. Let's not get into size arguments, bring a tape measure with you to the store and measure the removable bottom (and again, let's not get into the question of whether all bottoms should be removable, shall we?).
Once you have your pan, we can make the crust. Now, if you have a food processor, use the sliced nuts I call for in the following. If you don't, then get some almond flour, which is very readily available. And if you are allergic to nuts, substitute more flour.
To make the crust in the food processor, dump in a cup of flour, a half cup of skinned almonds, whatever cut you have, a quarter cup of granulated sugar and a pinch of salt. Pulse that together, and then cut up a stick of cold, unsalted butter, add that and pulse some more until it's all incorporated. Now, add an egg yolk and process until a ball forms.
Remember the substitutions above if you need. And if you don't have skinless almonds, hell use the whole ones. Or use hazelnuts. In any event, you will have a soft dough. This is sort of what we call a "cookie crust." Instead of rolling it out, you're going to take that ball of dough, put it into your tart pan, and push it around with your hands and fingers, up the side of the pan, and all the way through the bottom.
This is actually fun, and don't get frustrated if you find that you're doing this unevenly. Everyone does. The way to perhaps overcome that frustration, is to push the dough up the sides of the pan first, and then pat it all around to make it as even as possible. You can do this. It will take less than five minutes.
Now, the patience part. This is very soft, and if you were to bake this crust now, it would collapse into a pile and you would not be happy. So, put it into your fridge for about three hours.
When you're read, preheat your oven to 400, and take the tart out of the fridge. Prick it all over with a fork, and then put it in the oven, and after nine minutes, go in with a spatula, and push it down to flatten it.
When I read these instructions I didn't understand why you did that, and then when I saw it puff up... So, yes, do it. And then bake for another nine minutes.
While this is happening, cut up a pound and a half of plums. I cut them in halves which was a good choice. And mix them with a hefty tablespoon of corn starch, and a quarter cup of sugar.
When the tart crust is out of the oven, let it cool for about five minutes, and then put your plums in. I put them in, cut side down, so that we could have the lovely purple color showing.
IF you like - and trust me, you do - make a crumb topping. Do this by mixing half a cup of flour, 1/3 cup of brown sugar, 1/3 cup of almond paste, about a quarter cup of almonds, and half a stick of butter in your food processor, and pulse it to a fine grain. Again, if you don't care for nuts, leave them out and increase the flour. And if you don't have a food processor, use the nut flour we already talked about.
Change the temperature of your oven to 375, and then put the crumbs over the fruit. Put the thing on a baking sheet so that if any fall, you don't get clouds of smoke from your oven. Get it back in the oven for thirty minutes. The plums will bubble and give off a very thick juice and your home will smell of toasted nuts, if you use them. And then... the prettiest tart you can imagine comes out of your oven.. Look above.
Ice cream, anyone?
Smother em ... with pork: smothered pork chops
Ciao tutti. Annalena took a brief vacation from writing, because she has been busy with many tasks, including preparing a birthday dinner for thirteen (or was it fourteen? After her sixth drink, things got a little confusing). This, however, is a dish she made last week, and it is one that is good anytime.
For reasons that are unclear to me, "smothered" dishes seem to be associated with southern cooking, and usually they involve chicken. In brief, you put the protein, somewhat precooked, in with vegetables, and then cover the pan and cook, with no added liquid, until the vegetables are soft and you have a bit of juice. And that's "smothered" cooking.
Other cultures have similar dishes. Italian cooking, for example, Annalena's strong suit, has "guazetto," which is a name for a category of stews. Cooking "in umido" means sweating the food, and again, that's one where the stewing happens. The ingredients here are quintessentially American cooking , however. You would not see pork chops in classical Italian cooking, but there's nothing wrong with good food.
Again, I made this in late summer, but you could make this any time of year. You would vary the vegetables if you cook seasonally, but now, we are in the midst of the primacy of peppers, so, go for it.
You will need four, large pork chops. I prefer them to be boneless, but if you like them with the bone, by all means. And, to review, we salt our proteins the night before we cook them, remember? Hmmmm?
The night of dinner, slice up three large red peppers, into thick pieces, and also thinly slice four, medium sized, white onions. You want about a pound of onions. Put those veggies to the side, and put a few tablespoons of olive oil into a big pan which you can cover. When the oil is hot, add the pork chops, and brown them well, on both sides. It will probably take about 8 minutes in all for you to do this.
You may be questioning the use of oil with pork, which is of course a very fatty meat, and indeed ,this is a fair question. You use the fat because even the fattiest of meat does not immediately give off its fat, so if you put the pork into a dry pan, you will burn it. The same will happen with bacon. The exceptions of which Annalena is aware are duck breasts, and foie gras, which both can be cooked in a dry pan, and should be.
After your chops have browned, you will have way more fat than you need. Now, you can pour off all but about three tablespoons. If you are uncertain how to know there are three tablespoons left, well, spoon out three tablespoons, get rid of the rest, and add the fat back to the pan.
Easy, huh? Now add your peppers and onions and stir them in the fat. They will begin to cook, but will not get very soft immediately.
They WILL soften, however, when you do what follows. Put the chops back in the pan, on top of the vegetables, lower the heat, and cover the pan tightly. You want everything to cook for about ten minutes. When you come back to the pan, the onions will have cooked to almost nothing, and the peppers will be ridiculously soft.
Now, what Annalena likes to do at this point, is to turn it into a sweet and sour dish. She does this by adding half a cup of cider vinegar and a quarter cup of honey, mixed together, to the pan, and turning up the heat, until the vinegar has evaporated. The acidity and the sweetness will remain, and they will be in the vegetables for the most part.
Switch it up a little. Use some other vegetables, add some herbs, like rosemary, for example, and let Annalena know if it works for you.
For reasons that are unclear to me, "smothered" dishes seem to be associated with southern cooking, and usually they involve chicken. In brief, you put the protein, somewhat precooked, in with vegetables, and then cover the pan and cook, with no added liquid, until the vegetables are soft and you have a bit of juice. And that's "smothered" cooking.
Other cultures have similar dishes. Italian cooking, for example, Annalena's strong suit, has "guazetto," which is a name for a category of stews. Cooking "in umido" means sweating the food, and again, that's one where the stewing happens. The ingredients here are quintessentially American cooking , however. You would not see pork chops in classical Italian cooking, but there's nothing wrong with good food.
Again, I made this in late summer, but you could make this any time of year. You would vary the vegetables if you cook seasonally, but now, we are in the midst of the primacy of peppers, so, go for it.
You will need four, large pork chops. I prefer them to be boneless, but if you like them with the bone, by all means. And, to review, we salt our proteins the night before we cook them, remember? Hmmmm?
The night of dinner, slice up three large red peppers, into thick pieces, and also thinly slice four, medium sized, white onions. You want about a pound of onions. Put those veggies to the side, and put a few tablespoons of olive oil into a big pan which you can cover. When the oil is hot, add the pork chops, and brown them well, on both sides. It will probably take about 8 minutes in all for you to do this.
You may be questioning the use of oil with pork, which is of course a very fatty meat, and indeed ,this is a fair question. You use the fat because even the fattiest of meat does not immediately give off its fat, so if you put the pork into a dry pan, you will burn it. The same will happen with bacon. The exceptions of which Annalena is aware are duck breasts, and foie gras, which both can be cooked in a dry pan, and should be.
After your chops have browned, you will have way more fat than you need. Now, you can pour off all but about three tablespoons. If you are uncertain how to know there are three tablespoons left, well, spoon out three tablespoons, get rid of the rest, and add the fat back to the pan.
Easy, huh? Now add your peppers and onions and stir them in the fat. They will begin to cook, but will not get very soft immediately.
They WILL soften, however, when you do what follows. Put the chops back in the pan, on top of the vegetables, lower the heat, and cover the pan tightly. You want everything to cook for about ten minutes. When you come back to the pan, the onions will have cooked to almost nothing, and the peppers will be ridiculously soft.
Now, what Annalena likes to do at this point, is to turn it into a sweet and sour dish. She does this by adding half a cup of cider vinegar and a quarter cup of honey, mixed together, to the pan, and turning up the heat, until the vinegar has evaporated. The acidity and the sweetness will remain, and they will be in the vegetables for the most part.
Switch it up a little. Use some other vegetables, add some herbs, like rosemary, for example, and let Annalena know if it works for you.
Wednesday, August 17, 2011
You know it's Sicilian when: Swordfish, Sicilian style
This is dedicated to my Italian teacher Jonathan, who is (or was) in Sicily and lamented to me a few days ago that he had eaten more eggplant in 4 days than he had eaten in 30 years.
Yes, young man, welcome to Sicilian cooking, where in summer, eggplant rules.
I've written before how certain names of dishes are "signifiers" (that's for you too, Jonathan): veronique and florentine are the examples I always use, so test your recall to see if you remember what they mean.
But there are also other combinations of ingredients that are evocative of, or signify, a place. While it has lost some of that "significance," think of corned beef and cabbage. Being more elaborate by adding a time, franks and beans with brown bread, on Saturday night (New England). Crepes with sour cherries. And so on and so forth.
When you see sweet and savory mixed together, in a main dish, you are looking at the area of the world where Sicily and the Middle East converge. You can get into loud, long arguments over who influenced whom, but the bottom line, is that in Sicilian cooking, in Syrian cooking, etc, you will see combinations of strong spices, and sweet elements. I see more honey in Syrian food, and more dried fruit in Sicilian, but they are always there. Think of the national pasta dish of Sicily (which I try to forget since I hate it: sardines, fennel, pine nuts, and currants). Within that combination, you have the markings of a Sicilian dish: pignoli. Dried fruit. An herb. And fish.
Now, there's something that will separate Sicilian cuisine from the other regions I've mentioned. I am not very much aware of a seafood cuisine from the Middle East, although I know it exists. Sicily, however, is known for its seafood dishes. And before you say to me "DUH. It's an island," that is not a guarantee. Sardinia is an island as well, but its seafood cusine is limited, because much of the island is covered with swamps, filled with malarial mosquitoes. So, you will get Sardinian style rabbit (it's GOOD), but you will probably not get Sardinian style swordfish. But you will get Sicilian style swordfish, and that is to where we now turn.
Traditionally, this dish is prepared "rollatino" style. The fish is cut in a very thin slice, filled with the mixture I will discuss below, rolled up, tied or secured with toothpicks or some other element, pan fried, and served, usually with something like salmoriglio sauce. Look it up. It's in this blog.
If you try to get your fish monger to slice swordfish thin enough to do the preparation that way, he will hate you and you will wonder why you did it, because regardless of how thin the slice is, swordfish is fragile, and the slices will break up. You will hate me if I tell you to do it that way. So, here's how Annalena did it. You should do it, too, especially now, when local swordfish is at its peak.
Many people do not like fennel, and if you are one of them, use oregano, fresh if you can, please. The amount of oregano is up to you, as are the other ingredients: pine nuts, raisins or currants (I use the golden raisins. Currants would be more traditional, but the raisins are fine, and I like the golden ones here), pine nuts, and dried bread crumbs. Also, olive oil. And salt.
Chop up the fresh oregano until it's fairly fine, but don't go for green paste. Put a couple of tablespoons of olive oil in a frying pan, and add the raisins and the pine nuts, and the oregano. Stir the stuff over medium heat, and when the pignoli begin to brown, add some bread crumbs and a pinch of salt. Mix it all together. The olive oil will all get absorbed, so add some more. Taste and if you want more salt, go right ahead. Add oil until you have a paste of your desired consistency. Annalena prefers this fairly thick, so she doesn't use much olive oil, but this is one of the hallmarks of Sicilian cooking: you work within a basic framework, and elaborate as you go on.
For the swordfish. I use steaks that are about half an inch thick. Use either a second frying pan OR if you are lucky enough to have a ridged, stovetop grill pan, use that. Brush some olive oil over the pan, and get it REALLY REALLY hot. In fact, I would say you should wait until it smokes. While it's heating up, pat dry your fish, salt it, and then lay it on the surface of your pan. Leave it alone (I'm serious about this), for a solid five minutes. Fish has a different composition than meat and it is much more likely to stick than the others. If you are really squeamish about that possibility, use a nonstick pan, but you won't get the lovely lines.
After five minutes carefully flip the fish, and cook the other side, until it, too gets those wonderful grill marks, or browns.
Now, have your oven preheated to 350, and put the whole pan in for ten minutes. Unlike its cousin, tuna, swordfish does not fare real well if it is undercooked. It CAN be overcooked, but it's hard to do so at ten minutes.
Bring it out of the oven, being careful, and then spread some of that wonderful glop over it.
You basically have "srollatino", or "UNrolled" swordfish. And a fairly simple, somewhat exotic dish at that.
Try it. Expand your horizons. Go south. Eat more fish.
Yes, young man, welcome to Sicilian cooking, where in summer, eggplant rules.
I've written before how certain names of dishes are "signifiers" (that's for you too, Jonathan): veronique and florentine are the examples I always use, so test your recall to see if you remember what they mean.
But there are also other combinations of ingredients that are evocative of, or signify, a place. While it has lost some of that "significance," think of corned beef and cabbage. Being more elaborate by adding a time, franks and beans with brown bread, on Saturday night (New England). Crepes with sour cherries. And so on and so forth.
When you see sweet and savory mixed together, in a main dish, you are looking at the area of the world where Sicily and the Middle East converge. You can get into loud, long arguments over who influenced whom, but the bottom line, is that in Sicilian cooking, in Syrian cooking, etc, you will see combinations of strong spices, and sweet elements. I see more honey in Syrian food, and more dried fruit in Sicilian, but they are always there. Think of the national pasta dish of Sicily (which I try to forget since I hate it: sardines, fennel, pine nuts, and currants). Within that combination, you have the markings of a Sicilian dish: pignoli. Dried fruit. An herb. And fish.
Now, there's something that will separate Sicilian cuisine from the other regions I've mentioned. I am not very much aware of a seafood cuisine from the Middle East, although I know it exists. Sicily, however, is known for its seafood dishes. And before you say to me "DUH. It's an island," that is not a guarantee. Sardinia is an island as well, but its seafood cusine is limited, because much of the island is covered with swamps, filled with malarial mosquitoes. So, you will get Sardinian style rabbit (it's GOOD), but you will probably not get Sardinian style swordfish. But you will get Sicilian style swordfish, and that is to where we now turn.
Traditionally, this dish is prepared "rollatino" style. The fish is cut in a very thin slice, filled with the mixture I will discuss below, rolled up, tied or secured with toothpicks or some other element, pan fried, and served, usually with something like salmoriglio sauce. Look it up. It's in this blog.
If you try to get your fish monger to slice swordfish thin enough to do the preparation that way, he will hate you and you will wonder why you did it, because regardless of how thin the slice is, swordfish is fragile, and the slices will break up. You will hate me if I tell you to do it that way. So, here's how Annalena did it. You should do it, too, especially now, when local swordfish is at its peak.
Many people do not like fennel, and if you are one of them, use oregano, fresh if you can, please. The amount of oregano is up to you, as are the other ingredients: pine nuts, raisins or currants (I use the golden raisins. Currants would be more traditional, but the raisins are fine, and I like the golden ones here), pine nuts, and dried bread crumbs. Also, olive oil. And salt.
Chop up the fresh oregano until it's fairly fine, but don't go for green paste. Put a couple of tablespoons of olive oil in a frying pan, and add the raisins and the pine nuts, and the oregano. Stir the stuff over medium heat, and when the pignoli begin to brown, add some bread crumbs and a pinch of salt. Mix it all together. The olive oil will all get absorbed, so add some more. Taste and if you want more salt, go right ahead. Add oil until you have a paste of your desired consistency. Annalena prefers this fairly thick, so she doesn't use much olive oil, but this is one of the hallmarks of Sicilian cooking: you work within a basic framework, and elaborate as you go on.
For the swordfish. I use steaks that are about half an inch thick. Use either a second frying pan OR if you are lucky enough to have a ridged, stovetop grill pan, use that. Brush some olive oil over the pan, and get it REALLY REALLY hot. In fact, I would say you should wait until it smokes. While it's heating up, pat dry your fish, salt it, and then lay it on the surface of your pan. Leave it alone (I'm serious about this), for a solid five minutes. Fish has a different composition than meat and it is much more likely to stick than the others. If you are really squeamish about that possibility, use a nonstick pan, but you won't get the lovely lines.
After five minutes carefully flip the fish, and cook the other side, until it, too gets those wonderful grill marks, or browns.
Now, have your oven preheated to 350, and put the whole pan in for ten minutes. Unlike its cousin, tuna, swordfish does not fare real well if it is undercooked. It CAN be overcooked, but it's hard to do so at ten minutes.
Bring it out of the oven, being careful, and then spread some of that wonderful glop over it.
You basically have "srollatino", or "UNrolled" swordfish. And a fairly simple, somewhat exotic dish at that.
Try it. Expand your horizons. Go south. Eat more fish.
Tuesday, August 16, 2011
The remains of the dough: apricot pie
Those of you who know Annalena well, know of her struggles with pie crust. Well, as I have written here, once I had Rose Levy Birnbaum's book, pie crust was no longer a mystery or a source of never ending frustration. Whilst the expression "easy as pie" still lacks meaning to me, "pie in the sky" is no longer the ruling expression in the pastry kitchen.
Some time ago, I made a double crust blueberry pie for a dinner. It was a very bigt success, and part of this was in fact the crust. Flaky, buttery, it was absolutely terrific.
When you roll out pie crust, inevitably you have extra. You cut away the excess on the edges, and then you do SOMETHING with it. I remember folks putting sugar on it and making "pie crust cookies," and I've done that too. And thrown away the cookies. So, now, I gather up the crust and save it. I had done that for the blueberry pie, with full intentions of making a quiche.
Well... we sort of got waylaid along the way, and the apricot pie resulted. See, I had another pie planned, and I just figured a double crust pie, so I would be making more crust. EVERY SOURCE I looked at asked the question: "why are you covering the gorgeous apricots with crust?" OK, so we turn to Rose and find a winner. The picture above is the pie that followed, using her book and making a few changes. Here we go.
First, the crust, which makes enough for THREE single crusts. You need 2.25 cups of all purpose flour, and half a teaspoon of salt, which you "fluff" up, either by hand, or with your food processor, using a few pulses. Next, you need fourteen tablespoons of unsalted butter. This is two sticks, less two tablespoons. Use six of them , cut into cubes, and pulse to a very fine meal (or work your fingers to get the same result). Then, the final 8 go in, and this time, go for things that are about the size of small peas. Add a tablespoon of cider vinegar, and then add ice cold water . This is important. When I make pie crust, I start by putting water in a cup with some cubes, for this stage. Add four tablespoons, and stir everything together with a fork, or pulse it. Then keep on adding water, by the tablespoon, until the dough just begins to get cohesive. Gather it together with your hands, and divide it into three equal masses. Flatten it, and either refrigerate it, or freeze it. IF you freeze it, just make sure you thaw it before you're ready to bake.
To bake this pie, you're going to do a "blind" crust. That means you're going to bake the crust, empty, with a "cover" on it, to keep it crispy. Since you don't see it baking, it's "blind." When the crust dough is somewhat soft, but not TRULY soft, it's ready to roll out. I use lots of flour and then brush it off at the end. Use a very firm stroke, and keep on rotating the crust to keep it as circular as possible. Don't kill yourself though. DO have your pie pan handy so that you can see if you have enough dough. You want it to spread out over the pan by about an inch. When you're there, press it down into the pan, and run your rolling pin over the edges, to smooth it out and get rid of excess. Then, prick little holes all over it, cover the bottom with some parchment paper, and either pile in pie weights if you have them, or dried beans, or rice, and bake this at 425 for eight minutes. While it's baking, separate an egg. Save the yolk for making ice cream, you'll be using the white here.
Protect your hands and move the crust out of the oven. Keep it at 425 and let it cool for three minutes. Then, brush the egg white all over the pie. It will "cook" immediately, and then get your filling together.
It's hard to set up these posts, so "per favore." While the crust has been baking, you set up your apricots by cutting about a pound and a half of them into segments: small ones into fours, big ones into sixes, REALLY big ones into eights. Mix them with 1/3 cup of sugar, and a couple of tablespoons of corn starch. Apricots don't put off much liquid, so you don't need much thickener. And, because their skins are soft, you don't need to peel them (some do. More power to them).
Be creative in how you layer the slices in the crust. See what I did above? But use your imagination, and if, as Ms. Birnbaum does, you prefer halves, use that (that's better, though, with smaller apricots. There's a gorgeous picture of a pie done this way in her book). Put the pie back in the oven, and bake it for about 50 minutes. The tips of the apricots will brown, and the pie will thicken some.
When you bring it out of the oven, get about half a cup of good quality apricot jam. Heat it gently, and then put it through a colander . I thought this step was not necessary, but it really is. It will make you a nice, smooth glaze, which you dab on the fruit until you've touched all of the surface.
And when you're done: VOILA. See what you've got above?
Yes, it's a lot of work, but the result is impressive. Apricots are not in season forever, and in NY they are at their peak now. So, roll up your sleeves, and get the pie going. I think you'll be happy you committed to this one.
Sunday, August 14, 2011
How to brown bag, the Annalena way
I would like to have a show of hands, especially from my readers here in NYC. How many of you have said, more than once "DAMN, buying lunch is EXPENSIVE" (use any variations on that you would like). Now, how many of you have said "you know, those lunches are FATTENING." (again, variations). Bet it's a lot of you. Now, let me see another show of hands: how many of you have done anything to break out of the cycle of expensive, fattening lunches? Hmmmmm.
I thought so. Well, Annalena is going to try to inspire you to do some of this at home.
Everyone is interested in the quality of lunches children get at school: even people who do not have children. And there are programs all over which are designed to make sure that our kids get a decent meal. Again, my NYC readers will remember the recent stir caused when GASP apple slices were being offered as part of a Happy Meal. We argue we fight, we take positions, on lunch for our kids.
Uh, hello. Don't we owe an obligation to our kids, ourselves, our loved ones, to stay healthy too? How many of you don't eat enough fruit in a day? Bring some to work. How about vegetables? Get yourself a container of cherry tomatoes. You've got a good two servings right there, and you didn't have to cook.
Ah, but the cooking part. THAT's where people get testy "Yeah, I'd bring my lunch but I don't have time to cook."
B******T. You do. You make dinner? You read the papers? You watch tv. Yeah, you do. I'm going to tell you about our lunches, and maybe you can do something similar.
For health reasons, the Guyman and I eat chicken for lunch, at least four times a week. That does not mean we eat the SAME chicken. We alternate between boneless chicken breast, and chicken sausages. And within the sausages, we have different ones every week. And then we alternate breads. So, for the nerds among you, if you get two different kinds of bread, and one kind of sausage (and the chicken breast), you need not eat the same sandwich in a week. Play with vegetables and fruits, and you're solidly in a camp of variety.
And you will save money. It may not seem like it, but bear with me. Yesterday, at the farmers market, Annalena bought 2 pounds of chicken sausage, and two large packages of chicken breasts. It cost her 44.00. Sounds like a lot? Nope. That amount of chicken will serve for 12 lunches. So, the protein portion is about 3.75 a sandwich. Even if you buy a ridiculously artisanal loaf of bread, your sandwich is going to cost less than buying one, and you can put whatever you like on it, and... you don't have to wait on line.
Here's how I make my chicken breasts for sandwiches, and I'm going to go through timing with you. The night before I cook them, I marinate the breasts in "something." There are always fresh herbs of some kind, and then sometimes garlic, sometimes not. The "liquid" might be yogurt (a big favorite), or some olive oil, or some fruit juice (not that often). Put about two pounds of boneles, skinless chicken breasts in about a half cup of some liquid, and add the flavors you like. Put it all in a bag, toss it in the fridge, and let it sit overnight.
The next day, preheat your oven to 375. Take out the chicken, and take off most of what's stuck to it. Heat up a pan (or, if you have a stovetop grill, that), and rub a little oil on it. When it's hot, add the chicken and don't move it for five minutes. You will get a miraculous crust on it. Then, turn it over and cook it for three minutes, and then move the whole thing into the oven for another ten.
How long did it take you to cook that chicken? Was it twenty minutes? How long the night before setting it up? Five? When it cools, you slice it, and make sandwiches.
We eat big ones (watch it, gang), and two pounds of the chicken breasts will make four sandwiches. Four GENEROUS sandwiches. Go leaner if you like, use turkey if you like, but do something like this.
Like I say, it doesn't take long, and you will be much happier with what's in your lunchbag. Put in the cherry tomatoes and the peaches you bought at the farmers market, or the broccoli and berries, get a container of yogurt, and you will be a MUCH happier camper than if you're standing at the salad bar, wondering who sneezed on the chick peas, or groaning at the mayonnaise in the tuna salad on your sandwich, or wondering "isn't that the same mark in the tabbouleh that was there three days ago?"
C'mon, let me see some of you brown bag it. If you already do, gimme your ideas. I'm really interested in what people do for lunches. Let's chat. And better yet, let's do lunch.
I thought so. Well, Annalena is going to try to inspire you to do some of this at home.
Everyone is interested in the quality of lunches children get at school: even people who do not have children. And there are programs all over which are designed to make sure that our kids get a decent meal. Again, my NYC readers will remember the recent stir caused when GASP apple slices were being offered as part of a Happy Meal. We argue we fight, we take positions, on lunch for our kids.
Uh, hello. Don't we owe an obligation to our kids, ourselves, our loved ones, to stay healthy too? How many of you don't eat enough fruit in a day? Bring some to work. How about vegetables? Get yourself a container of cherry tomatoes. You've got a good two servings right there, and you didn't have to cook.
Ah, but the cooking part. THAT's where people get testy "Yeah, I'd bring my lunch but I don't have time to cook."
B******T. You do. You make dinner? You read the papers? You watch tv. Yeah, you do. I'm going to tell you about our lunches, and maybe you can do something similar.
For health reasons, the Guyman and I eat chicken for lunch, at least four times a week. That does not mean we eat the SAME chicken. We alternate between boneless chicken breast, and chicken sausages. And within the sausages, we have different ones every week. And then we alternate breads. So, for the nerds among you, if you get two different kinds of bread, and one kind of sausage (and the chicken breast), you need not eat the same sandwich in a week. Play with vegetables and fruits, and you're solidly in a camp of variety.
And you will save money. It may not seem like it, but bear with me. Yesterday, at the farmers market, Annalena bought 2 pounds of chicken sausage, and two large packages of chicken breasts. It cost her 44.00. Sounds like a lot? Nope. That amount of chicken will serve for 12 lunches. So, the protein portion is about 3.75 a sandwich. Even if you buy a ridiculously artisanal loaf of bread, your sandwich is going to cost less than buying one, and you can put whatever you like on it, and... you don't have to wait on line.
Here's how I make my chicken breasts for sandwiches, and I'm going to go through timing with you. The night before I cook them, I marinate the breasts in "something." There are always fresh herbs of some kind, and then sometimes garlic, sometimes not. The "liquid" might be yogurt (a big favorite), or some olive oil, or some fruit juice (not that often). Put about two pounds of boneles, skinless chicken breasts in about a half cup of some liquid, and add the flavors you like. Put it all in a bag, toss it in the fridge, and let it sit overnight.
The next day, preheat your oven to 375. Take out the chicken, and take off most of what's stuck to it. Heat up a pan (or, if you have a stovetop grill, that), and rub a little oil on it. When it's hot, add the chicken and don't move it for five minutes. You will get a miraculous crust on it. Then, turn it over and cook it for three minutes, and then move the whole thing into the oven for another ten.
How long did it take you to cook that chicken? Was it twenty minutes? How long the night before setting it up? Five? When it cools, you slice it, and make sandwiches.
We eat big ones (watch it, gang), and two pounds of the chicken breasts will make four sandwiches. Four GENEROUS sandwiches. Go leaner if you like, use turkey if you like, but do something like this.
Like I say, it doesn't take long, and you will be much happier with what's in your lunchbag. Put in the cherry tomatoes and the peaches you bought at the farmers market, or the broccoli and berries, get a container of yogurt, and you will be a MUCH happier camper than if you're standing at the salad bar, wondering who sneezed on the chick peas, or groaning at the mayonnaise in the tuna salad on your sandwich, or wondering "isn't that the same mark in the tabbouleh that was there three days ago?"
C'mon, let me see some of you brown bag it. If you already do, gimme your ideas. I'm really interested in what people do for lunches. Let's chat. And better yet, let's do lunch.
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