Friday, September 30, 2011

Continuing to cheat Purgatory: baked fish with homemade bread crumbs

Ok, let's own it: we all have a cylinder of those bread crumbs: either unflavored or "Italian seasoning" varieties. We KNOW they're bad for us, we KNOW they're loaded with fake ingredients. And, let's face it again: every time we've tried the "good for you" ones, the organic bread crumbs, the holistic ones, they've tasted like, well, cardboard. Annalena has been there, but she won't be anymore.

Annalena does not pretend to be a saint, which is a good thing, because she wouldn't fool anyone. There are bad things in her kitchen. Not many, but some. That cylinder is one of them. Even though she knows she REALLY SHOULD make her own bread crumbs. And the reason that cylinder is there is that, for all of their simplicity and for all of the easy instructions for making breadcrumbs, making such that were not too much trouble, and tasted good, eluded Annalena. No longer.

Let's draw up a distinction here, ragazzi, one between fresh bread crumbs, and dry bread crumbs. I guess one could say that they're sort of like the difference between fresh and dry pasta, except that's not true. After trying, many times, to make and to use fresh bread crumbs, Annalena has given up. They simply do not do it for her. If you have a different point of view, please comment, as long as you're nice about it. Trying to make the dried ones turned out to be just that: trying. Until I figured out what I was doing wrong.

Most bread crumb "recipes" for making the dried stuff have you start with slices of stale bread. As I found out, this is a mistake. If you want to make GOOD dry bread crumbs, use only crust. I learned this when, after making the Zuni bread salad that I talked about earlier, I was left with a large pile of sesame semolina bread crusts. I always have crusts left over when I make a bread pudding, and I always plan to toast them and use them as big croutons. And I throw them out, every time. Buddha only knows what compelled me to try this this time, but I did. And it works. Here we go.

You need the crusts of a loaf of a bread that is good enough to eat as it is. Think of the principle of cooking with wine: you never cook with something you wouldn't drink. You can take the crusts off with a sharp knife. You don't have to be clinical about getting all of the crumb off of it. After you have those crusts, what you do is save them, until you've used your oven at some very high temperature: somewhere around 400 or higher. Have them ready on a baking sheet, and when you have finished baking whatever it is you're baking (or roasting), turn off the oven, and put the sheet of bread crusts in. Just leave it there for about half an hour, longer if you forget. The crusts will dry even more, and when they're cool, dump them in a food processor . If you don't have one, put them in a sturdy plastic bag, and get your rolling pan ready.

It's of course easy and fast to do this in a food processor. With the bag and rolling pin, I run the pin back and forth about a dozen times, and then I hit the broken bread, over and over, until I have the size I want - which is fairly tiny . (It's a good way to get out aggression). If you use the processor, stop every few seconds and check. Dump these out into an air and water tight container.

Or, use them right away, in this dish. Take about a cup or so of the crumbs and put them in a bowl. Melt 2-3 tablespoons of unsalted butter, and chop up about a tablespoon of your fresh herb of choice. Mix the stuff all together. Now, get a pound or so of fish fillets. I used striped bass, but use what you like. DO keep in mind, however, that the more pieces of fish you have, the more bread crumbs you will need. Something about surface area. (You can also stuff a whole fish with these goodies too). Put the fish in a buttered baking dish, sprinkle the crumbs over it, and bake at 400 for about 15 minutes per inch of fish. The crumbs will take on YET MORE toastiness, and give the fish a good flavor. If you like things a bit on the salty side, you can add some salt to the crumbs before you bake the dish. And there it is. It's not fancy, it's not complicated, but it sure is good. How about you make it this week?

Monday, September 26, 2011

Save the bones, for Henry Jones (and Annalena): bone in lamb shoulder

Unlike Henry Jones, who "don't eat no meat," Annalena does. Do any of you know, or remember that song? Annalena learned it from the Pointer Sisters, and then followed up and learned that the great Johnny Mercer wrote it. Not being much of an expert on this type of music, Annalena finds it a bit of an odd song for Johnny Mercer, and she'll have to check with her resident experts on the man to find out what it's all about. Indeed, she has such experts. Sometimes, life IS a cabaret.

OK, so the inspiration for the title cometh as follows: two weeks ago, as the weather turned more than a bit colder, Annalena's cooking thoughts turned to slow cook braises, and since the Guyman and I hadn't had a bit of lamb in a while, I checked with ovine Goddess Karen, looking for lamb shoulder. As it happened, Ms. Karen had lamb and mutton shoulder, both with bone in and bone out. Karen felt that the bone in lamb shoulder would make a perfect braise, and Annalena bought herself a 6.5 pound shoulder roast, thinking there would be no problem with finding a recipe for such a beast.

Annalena was decidedly incorrect. What she found was that we seem to have very much gotten away from cooking meat on the bone, if we can help it. If you look up, for example, leg of lamb, many of your recipes will call for butterflied, or boned leg. So, too with other cuts of meats and, as you may have suspected, she found nothing for a lamb shoulder on the bone. The closest she came was to a recipe that called for slicing the shoulder into extremely thick chops, and then dealing with them from there.

This of course led to musings. We do gnaw on bones when they are provided to us, in the privacy of our own home, and if there is someone out there who doesn't like osso bucco, I don't want to know him or her; however, it is part of both the daintifying of American eating, and also the extremely cautious approach we take to product liability, that has really taken bones out of the equation in our cooking. The Guyman and Annalena have friends who will not eat chicken breast on the bone (I kid thee not). People get the skeeves over fish on the bone. And that classic dish of Italian American cooking, chicken scarpariello, which is so named because when you eat it, the bones stick out of your mouth like a shoemaker with his nailes, is now made with boneless chicken breast.

Oh, dear. All this being said, it IS true that bones add flavor to a dish. They add depth, and they add a solidity that comes from the gelatin that is released from them. And if you happen to have a friendly dog as a neighbor, they make a treat for the creature that always seems glad to see you and treats you like royalty. Learn to like bones.

Confronted with the beast of a roast in front of her, Annalena had no choice but to exercise her butchering skills. And, to be honest, removing the bones from the roast was not difficult. Without pictures showing you, describing the process is not really feasible. Suffice it to say that, if you're patient, and do not fight the flow of the bones, removing most of them is ridiculously easy. There is one bone, down the center of the roast, that requires more work, and whether you like it or not, you wind up with a butterflied roast that you will either need to tie or treat as such, but I finished removing the bones in less than 20 minutes.

If you buy your meat from the farmers market, you will have to learn how to do this. As I say, it is not difficult. The farmers are not going to do it for you. If you buy your meat from a good butcher (as they disappear, becoming harder and harder to find), ask him or her to save the bones for you. You WILL be paying for them, because the roast is weighed with the bones. Take them. I am about to explain what to do with them.

So you have your lamb shoulder roast which weighed about 6-7 pounds with the bones, and the bones have now been removed. Deal with them first. They will have some meat on them. Rub the bones with salt and olive oil, and then roast them in a very hot oven (450-500) for an hour. Try to remember to turn them every fifteen minutes but if you don't, it is far from the end of the world. When they are done, let them cool.

Meanwhile, let your boned shoulder sit in the fridge, salted and peppered, like we do with all of our meat. And get out a good knife, or your food processor, and chop up three medium sized leeks, three carrots, three stalks of celery, two large stalks of rosemary, and three cloves of garlic)(we're coming back to garlic... wait).

Get a pot that is going to be big enough to hold the meat, bones and vegetables in it, and heat a few tablespoons of olive oil and butter (2 and 2 I think) until this is really hot. Then, sear the meat. Sear it GOOD. Six minutes a side is good, I think (it's what I did with ours). Then, move the meat to a plate, and pour off all but about two tablespoons of the fat. Save it for a minute, as you throw in those veggies, with a good teaspoon of salt. Stir them until you see that they are beginning to give up liquid, and the brown bits on the bottom of the pan are coming free. If you're having trouble with this, add a little of the reserved fat. When the vegetables have gone from that "vicious" sounding sizzle, to a quieter one, put the bones on top of them, and put the shoulder on top of the bones. Add one whole bulb of garlic, unpeeled (trust me here). And then add chicken stock to the point where it just touches the shoulder meat. It could be three cups, it could be a quart. It is difficult to say. Once that stock comes to a boil, cover the pot, and move the whole thing to a 300 degree oven.

I had planned to cook this for six hours, turning it over every hour and a half. After three hours, however, the meat had literally fallen from the bones, and the roast itself had disintegrated beautifully, into a luscious ragout. As I fished around, pulling out the bones, I looked for the bulb of garlic.

GONE. Annalena is serious. The entire bulb had dissolved right into the dish. There is, literally, not a trace of the critter anywhere, just its essence.

You will probably NOT need to add salt to this, but you should taste just to make sure. What you will have is about 2 quarts of incredibly succulent, melt in your mouth meat, that will go on pasta, polenta, potatoes, anything you like. Try not to pick at it constantly, as Annalena was doing. And it will keep well. If you refrigerate it, some fat may come to the surface which you can remove, or stir back into the meat. This is your choice.

Try this. I think you will soon start joining Henry Jones at the table, and stealing some of his dinner.

Sunday, September 25, 2011

The peck of peppers and homework from Annalena

Well, ragazzi, let's get the homework out of the way first. As you know, I have written often of my disagreements with the food writer Mark Bittman. Today, however, he has written a SUPERB article which, in Annalena's opinion, needs to be read, shared, discussed, and acted upon:

http://bittman.blogs.nytimes.com/2011/09/24/is-junk-food-really-cheaper/?scp=1&sq=%22mark%20bittman%22%20%20%22fast%20food%22&st=cse


What Annalena says of this is RIGHT ON MR. BITTMAN! He said it better than I could have, and this damn well ought to start debate on this topic. Annalena particularly loves the comparison to exercise : more is better than less, and some is better than none. To all of us, let's try to make an effort to cut out ONE item of junk food or fast food from our diets permanently.

Ok, to the cooking. Late summer and early fall is a time when, in Annalena's book, peppers rule. She is told that, ultimately, they are not very nourishing, give beautiful color to dishes, but are a so-called "trash vegetable" which does not belong in the hallowed camp of veggies like broccoli and spinach.

To which I answer "and your point is?" adding only that many of the foods we now regard as nutritious were not so considered, and vice versa. Peppers do have vitamin A and C in them. Not the quantity of strawberries or oranges, but again, more than a Big Mac.... The ripe ones (red, yellow, orange, which we are going to use in this recipe) do not cause the digestive issues that green ones do, so go ahead and do this.

One of Mr. Bittman's points is that it is a myth that cooking your own food is overly time consuming. He draws an apt analogy to how much time people spend watching television every day. It's appropriate here, because you can make this dish in a half hour, and it is filling, delicious, and I bet good for you.

Let's start with four medium-large bell peppers. If you can get mixed colors, fabulous. The dish will be that much prettier. If you can't, also wonderful. Cut the peppers into strips that are about half an inch wide, and then peel three large cloves of garlic, but don't cut them, chop them, or anything.

Peppers seem to work best when cooked with a little butter, so put about two tablespoons each of butter and olive oil into a frying pan, and melt the butter. Again, if you don't use or don't have butter, just double the olive oil. Add the garlic first. When it begins to sizzle, add the peppers, toss them in the fat, and then add a goodly pinch of salt. Peppers seem to need more salt than other vegetables, so don't stint. Now, add about a quarter cup of chopped fresh basil. Toss everything together, cover the pan, and lower the heat.

Fill your pasta pot with hot water, and get it going. When it comes to a boil, add some salt, like you always do for pasta, and add half a pound of one of the shaped pastas. You can use the long ones, like linguini, but it is difficult to pick up some of everything when you use the longer varieties. Check the peppers after a few minutes. They should be on the "tender" side of "tender crisp." If the pasta is just a little too aldente, that's what you want. Drain it, and put it in with the pepper/basil mix and toss it together.

Now, let's back up. If you've used all olive oil, and stopped here, you have a wonderful vegan dish. BUT.... if you want to make something that will really push this to the next level, before you add the pasta, and a quarter pound of soft cheese to the peppers, or a mix of cheese and creme fraiche. Stir it in until it melts, and when the pasta is ready , toss that in as well. As the pasta continues to cook, it will pick up some of the moisture that is in the pan, and this sauce, which will look ridiculously wet and loose, will come together nicely. Then, grate your favorite hard cheese into the dish, toss some more basil in at the last minute, and...

Wait for your guests to smile.

Fast food? Yes. Junk food? No. C'mon folks, let's start our own "fast food" movement, and within it, PASTA RULES!!!!

Saturday, September 24, 2011

Cheating purgatory: Zuni's bread salad

There's an old saying amongst Italian (why do we always preface "saying" with "old?" Are there no NEW sayings?): "you spend one year in Purgatory for every crumb of bread you waste." Well, since Annalena is going to be doing at least a few eternities there, she doesn't want to add too many more years to her sentence with wasting bread. So today, she finally undertook something she should have done years ago: Zuni's bread salad.
Some background, ragazzi. Very early on, Annalena posted the recipe for Zuni roast chicken. At the restaurant, it may be the very best chicken ever. In your home, it is the best and easiest roast chicken you will make. Promesso. In the restaurant, it is always served with a bread salad. Keith, the "king of carbs," my buddy love, professes to like the bread salad better than the chicken, and he may be onto something there.
In any event, perhaps some celestial being knows why Annalena has not made this before. She certainly doesn't. But faced with the remnants of too much bread baking from week last, she pulled out the book, read the recipe and of course, modified it.

This is really good. In fact, it is TOO good. You should make it, but you really should not be around the kitchen with it, because, well...

Anyway, here we go. You need some good quality bread that has staled a bit. We had some of our left over whole wheat semolina bread. A bit more than half a pound of it, because you're going to take the crust off and make bread crumbs out of it (yes, you are. Promise me). Now cut the crust free bread into cubes, and toss them in a bowl with some olive oil, until you've got them nice and coated. Put them on a tray and run them under the broiler, for about two minutes. Then, protect your hands, turn them as best you can, and do it again, for a good minute or so. Some will char, and that is just fine. Dump them into a bowl, and mix a quarter cup of olive oil and about four tablespoons of white vinegar (or, champagne vinegar) with some salt, and pour that over the bread. Let it sit. It won't sog, mirabile dictu (my classical scholar friends will identify that immediately).

Get yourself about two tablespoons of currants... or raisins (I shall explain), and immerse them in some red or sherry vinegar. Let them plump for about an hour if you can.

The original recipe calls for currants. Annalena HAS currants in the house. She has currants all over the house. She saw them yesterday, but doesn't remember where. So she used golden raisins instead, which will be fine. But if you have and can find your currants, use them. And if you can find Annalena's, please tell her where they are.

Also, get about a quarter cup of pine nuts, and either toast them in a pan over a flame for about two minutes, or if you happen to be baking the chicken, or something else, do this in the oven. Toss the currants/raisins, the pine nuts and the red vinegar into the bread and taste. Taste every inch of the way here, and season as you go, because breads are different, vinegars are different, etc.

Up to now, I have followed the recipe of Zuni pretty much exactly. Now, however, we are going to diverge. If you happen to have some extra greens around the house (which we did. Another example of too big a set of eyes and too big a bag at the farmers market), saute' them in some olive oil, and when they're soft, toss them in with the bread as well. If you don't have them, or if like Ms. N of Texas and Michigan you can't stand greens, cook up some scallions and garlic and add them.

And really, now you have your salad. BUT... if you happen to be roasting the Zuni chicken when you make this, and you want to gild the lilly, you know those drippings on the bottom of the pan? You know that juice that pours out when you cut into the bird?

Yeah, you know where it's going. And you're going to do it, too.

Seriously, ragazzi, this "salad" is so wicked good, and you know there are times you have left over bread. Cut short your stay in Purgatory, and make this side dish. You'll come back to it, the same way you do the chicken.

You see this, Sue S? I KNOW you're gonna make this.

Friday, September 23, 2011

You take them where you find them: carmelized pork chops

You never know when you're going to get an inspiration for a recipe, or where. You may have had a few more adult beverages than absolutely necessary (and my readers will recognize that yes, there are times when adult beverages are NECESSARY), and a crazy idea comes to your head that turns out to be quite fine. Or, you'll see a billboard with a meal displayed on it (and someone explain to me why, in every billboard ad where a man and woman are eating together, HE's always having red meat and red wine, and SHE's always having chicken or fish and white wine? And where are the PC police on this one?). Or, as happened here, you will be reading a catalog, magazine, or something, and BAM. It comes to you.

Several evenings ago, I was planning on pork chops. In a "local stretch" for Annalena, I had come into some Becker Farms pork chops. These are usually available only to restaurants, but one of Annalena's fancy grocery sites had them available, so I tried them (good, but not good enough to justify not buying local. My bad). How was I going to cook them? I really had nothing much in mind, other than pan frying them, and putting some heirloom tomato jam on the side. And that would have been just fine.

Except.... the Williams Sonoma catalog was in front of me. As I leafed through their overpriced serving ware and glasses, there was a recipe for glazed pork chops, which was designed, I guess, to show off one of their new pans. I was not so interested in the pan, but pork chops... Hmmmm. And as I read through the ingredients: honey, thyme, balsamic vinegar, chicken stock, it became rather clear that yes, this was how dinner was going to go. And it did, and it was terrific.

A few words of warning/advice here, ragazzi. You are going to be working with very hot sweets, which burn. And stick. So be careful. And USE A NONSTICK PAN. The recipe called for four, one pound pork chops. Uh, the days of Annalena eating a one pound pork chop are long gone, although the Beckers I had weighed in at about 12 ounces. Seriously, a one pound chop is a BIG chop. You can use smaller ones. And keep in mind that, notwithstanding the pretty pictures you will see, getting four chops into a pan is not easy. You need a big one. And if you don't have a non-stick big enough for four , do this in two steps, as explained below. I did it with two.

Get your ingredients together: you need 2-3 healthy tablespoons of honey. You also need half a cup, EACH, of balsamic vinegar, and chicken stock. Now, the recipe called for sequential addition of these materials, which I found to be an absolutely ridiculous thing to do. So combine all of them in a large measuring cup and stir. Stir again. And stir a third time. It is difficult to dissolve honey in this mixture, but do it. And now put it aside.

Get a tablespoon (all you need, for each pair of chops) of olive oil very hot, in that nonstick pan. Add your chops, which.... you guessed it. You salted and let sit overnight, and sear them well. It's going to take a good three or four minutes per side, so plan accordingly. After you've browned all the chops, keeping them warm as you do them in pairs, get rid of the fat and add the liquid.

Remember how I stressed stirring the honey? It still blobbed out, didn't it? Think of what it would be like if you hadn't. So, stir it up again, lower the heat, and cook the liquid to the point where it is reduced by half. Add your chops, and cook them for three minutes per side. Now, bravely reduce that liquid again, to the point where you're getting a very thick, bubbly, almost caramel. Watch this carefully, because this will burn very easily. When it's reduced to about 1/4 of your original volume, put in the chops and turn them again and again, at 30 second intervals. You will see color take to the chops, as the sweet sauce sticks to them. After 3-4 turns to each side, you're done. If you have any left over reduction, pour it over the chops. You won't have much. But you worked on this, and you should use it. It's good.

One final note on this one: this is best done with a higher quality balsamic vinegar than you would normally use. For heaven's sakes, don't use the 100 year old stuff, but get a good bottle, and use that. And taste it. You'll be glad you did spend some money.

Wednesday, September 21, 2011

Practicing what she preaches: savory vegetable torte

You are all probably sick, or close to sick, of Annalena writing things like "all you need are a few techniques and you can do just about anything." The advice is directed toward cooking, but it's probably generally applicable (and she shall say nothing more). I bring this up this morning because, following her own advice, Annalena used some techniques to change a sweet recipe into a savory one, thinking about Ms. Patti Jackson all the time. (and she knows why).

Recently, you all saw me republish the simple summer fruit torte recipe. I know you liked it, because I learned that I can now follow "hits" on this site. It's up there with the recent favorites (although braciole continues to outdistance everythng by a factor of 8. Hmmmm). So, in thinking through the recipe, Annalena thought "I wonder if we can change this to savory." Perhaps the thinking was influenced subconsciously by the tomato upside down cake of about a month ago, but in any event, it happened, and it worked.

It seemed a logical thing to do. The ingredients: butter, flour, eggs, baking powder, are all there in just about any baked good. So, the question was: can you leave out the sugar, make something good, and will it rise with the denser vegetables in it?

In terms of the density of vegetables, I didn't really see a problem. If the veggie is dense, you can add less. And indeed, my first inclination was to use a can of those chopped green chili peppers you find in the "ethnic" section of the supermarket. As I looked in the fridge at the bags of vegetables that were not being eaten, however, I thought to myself "try broccoli. After all, broccoli quiche...," and indeed, the recipe was sounding to Annalena as if it were some kind of cross between a scone and a quiche. I knew that the vegetables would want "something," and that "something" was cheese. The cheese served both as a flavor agent, and also as something which would give bulk. There was one other change that I needed to make, as I found when I was mixing the thing together, and you'll see that below. Ok, gang, let's go make some food.

As with the fruit torte, preheat your oven to 350. Take that stick of unsalted butter you left out overnight to soften, and dump it into a bowl. Use the wrapper to butter an 8 or 9 inch cake pan. Shred about a generous cup of cheese . What kind of cheese? Well, think about the vegetable you're going to use. For example, had I used the chilis, I would probably have gone the way of monterey jack. Tomatoes? Oh, heavens, many things. Broccoli seemed to call out to cheddar, but I had a started piece of garrotxa cheese, and I used that. It tasted a bit bland to me, so after I shredded my cup of cheese, I grated a quarter cup of parmesan. This was a good thing.

Meanwhile, I steamed three cups of broccoli florets. I think the steaming was a good idea, but this would probably work if you used raw vegetables too. Don't be limited to broccoli: there were greenbeans, squash, and leafy greens in the fridge, and they all would have worked.

So you have your veggies and your cheese, and that lonesome stick of butter in the bowl, right? At this point, when you make the sweet version, you add the sugar. Well, now, you're going to add the cheese. Stir it all up and when you've got a gooey well mixed mass, add THREE large eggs, rather than the two for the sweet cake. I found that with the two eggs, I was getting a mass that looked really heavy. Three was a good choice. Now add the veggies, and then the cup of flour and the tablespoon of baking powder. Dump the whole thing into your cake pan, stick it in the oven, and bake for 45 minutes or so.

This smelled absolutely wonderful: like cheese muffins. Some of the cheese came to the top and browned, and it was so luscious looking that, had we not just polished off a very large dinner, Annalena would have helped herself.

There is no question about it, this is rich, with the cheese, the butter, the eggs, but remember: small portions and a salad on the side.

We are going to eat this after a performance of the Mahler 2nd in a couple days. It's the perfect thing for an easy meal, and I think it's what my farmers are gonna get for lunch this weekend.

Try it, and as you vary vegetable and cheese combinations, do let Annalena know. She will be very curious with what you turn out.

Tuesday, September 20, 2011

Simple and starch free: ricotta stuffed, baked tomatoes

Before we undertake the complexities of gateau basque (and they are complex!), or the multiple steps of paella (not difficult, but as Rupaul said, you better WORK), let's look at something a bit easier, adn why.

The regular reader of this blog knows that, comes September, the Guyman starts music rehearsal and that means late Monday dinners. As a rule, this means soup, pizza and salad, all home made. And this is all fine and dandy, and y'all have many of the recipes for these items in the blog.

Well, neither one of us are spring chickens anymore, and are probably even past stewing fowls. So when the soup is heavily starch laden (as is the wonderful corn soup, which we had last night, and for which you have a recipe repeat), and after a weekend where it seemed the theme was "pasta, pasta pasta," pizza with corn soup did not seem like the right choice. At 10pm, neither of us are looking for a lamb chop, or a steak, or even a sausage. I laugh because what we are looking for is a pizza, a calzone, or something along those lines. But it won't do. No no no. Hence Annalena was left to trying to devise something to go with the corn soup and green salad that would be tasty, filling but not too, and not involve starch.

A glance around the kitchen and into the fridge, and there it was. This is how you develop as a cook. You can come up with things like this, too, and you should.

We had a bowl of beefsteak tomatoes which were on the small side: let's say 4-5 to a pound. Tomatoes that size are idea for stuffing, because you can't fill them with TOO much, since they're not that big. Perfect. Stuffed with what? Well, on Saturday, Annalena's lovely and anonymous French friend had given her a bucket of sheep's milk ricotta for free. If someone ever gives you sheep's milk ricotta, take it.

You can see where I'm going, yes? There was also left over cheese from our Iberian extravaganza of the weekend, and... stuffed tomatoes were born. Or, at least this version. Here it comes. They're good. They're easy. They are starch free. C'mon folks. Andare nella cucina a preparare pomodori ripieni con ricotta e formaggion. (You can read that! See how much Italian you know?).

Ok, enough kidding, let's get to work. Preheat your oven to 375, and get a small, say 8x8 or 9x9 glass or ceramic baking dish and grease it. Then, get your tomatoes (and they don't have to be small). Cut the tops off, for about half an inch. Then, with a teaspoon or tablespoon, carefully spoon out the innards into a bowl. If you are so inclined, separate the tomato water and seeds, but you don't have to. Chop the tomatoes roughly. Now, get a pound of ricotta. Put that into the bowl with the chopped tomato innards, and then add about a quarter cup of a grated cheese with a strong flavor. Anything you like. Stir this all up. It will be thick, but don't thin it. Now, add some chopped, fresh herbs. Again, whatever you like. I had oregano, and that's what I used. I also had basil, but I didn't want to push it. Stir this all together, and fill the tomatoes. You can be generous here. If the filling extends over the top of the tomato, fine and dandy. Stand the critters up in your baking dish, put them in the oven AFTER you've drizzled a few tablespoons of oil over them, and bake for 30 minutes. If you are so inclined, you can broil them for a minute or two, but I didn't.

In the baking process, the tomatoes get very soft and, when you serve them, it is very easy to slip the skins off. I would encourage you and your guests to do so, as the baking toughens what is already a tough skin.

Any temperature is good for these, but nice and warm is best, in my view.


Now, how long do you think it will take you to make these, putting baking time aside? Easy one? So easy you know what? I'm sending it off to Lynn Goldberg. That's what I'm gonna do.