Tuesday, April 30, 2013

Tracing the roots: tabbouleh salad, revisited

Ok, ragazzi, can we have a show of hands:  how many of you saw the words "tabbouleh salad" and thought "OMG.  I haven't thought about tabbouleh salad since the 80s.   Or the 70s."  Remember those days, ragazzi?  Was it possible to go to a potluck and not encounter one?  Annalena even had a piece of kitchen stoneware that was called a tabbouleh bowl.  It didn't look too different from any other serving bowl, but she was told that it was designed for serving tabbouleh especially.

Are there some heads shaking in assent?  Well, now comes the question:  what happened to tabbouleh?  Did it in fact go the way of quiche, or fondue pots, or any of those other foods that we all associate with a "period?"  Come on , ragazzi,  you know some of them don't you?  Spinach dip.... chex mix.... Hmmmm.  Is Annalena hitting a nerve or  two?    On some of them (onion soup mix dip, or spinach dip, or chex mix), Annalena understands.  On others,  like quiche, Annalena suspects that they just got too "clever," and we weren't interested anymore.  There are still too many bad quiches out there.

That's probably what happened with tabbouleh.  It is, essentially, a blank slate, and so much can go in, that perhaps too much DID go in.  Too much olive oil.  Too much "stuff."

Well, let's bring it back.  It's a good dish.  Warmer weather is coming, and ragazzi, you MUST start making this.  You can make it ahead of time, it makes tons, it is wonderful at room temperature, and it tastes very light.   Does this say "summer" or not?    Here's one that Annalena made just this week, to serve with some fish.   Do it this way, or do your own version, but please, let's bring this one back.

First, the essentials:  you need bulghur wheat.  If you garden, you are going to think it looks like vermiculite.  It's light, soft, and it blows away.  It's cracked wheat, and Annalena understands it to be a basic food substance for a great part of Africa.  You probably need to go to a health food store to get some.  To make enough for four, as a side dish, all you need is a cup of the stuff.  Put it in a pan and stir, at medium heat, for 3 minutes, without stop, to toast it.    Then immediately pour it into a cold bowl, and put it aside, whilst you prepare the rest of the ingredients.

In this one, what you want to do is chop up half a cup of dried apricots.  Also, you will want about a third of a cup of pistachio nuts, toasted, salted or not.    Now, the herbs.  Tabbouleh may be synonymous with parsely, and indeed, you will want about a cup, maybe more, of chopped parsley.  And about a third each of  cilantro and mint.  You can vary the proportions or change the secondary herbs, but make sure you use that parsley.  Mix that all up and put it aside.

In the pan where you toasted the wheat, add a chopped onion, and three chopped garlic cloves, with two tablespoons of olive oil.  Cook them until they just soften.

While this is happening, bring 4 cups of water to a boil.    When it's ready, turn off the heat on both the water and the pan with the onion/garlic, and stir in the bulghur wheat.  Pour in the water, cover it, and put it aside for about ten minutes.  Add the apricots, and half of the pistachios,  and cover it again.  After all of the water has  been absorbed (it will take about an hour), add the herbs.  Taste everything for seasoning, but you're going to get another chance to season, right now.

Tabbouleh needs dressing.  Squeeze two lemons.  Scrape the peel if you like, but  remember it will make the dish VERY lemony, and Annalena doesn't recommend this.  Slowly dribble half- 3/4 cup of olive oil  (the good stuff), into the lemon juice.  If you felt your tabbouleh was underseasoned, add some salt and pepper here.  Now, mix those chopped herbs in, and then the dressing.   If you're not serving this until later, wait with the dressing. Annalena thinks it's better that way.  And, finally, add the rest of the pistachios for some crunch.

You will get little bits of flavor from the variou add ins, but ultimately, you will go back to the elemental, almost earthy taste of the wheat.  And that is how it should be.

Start getting ready ragazzi, summer's coming.  There are parties. Volunteer to bring the tabbouleh.  Don't be surprised if your host or hostess says "Oh, is he visiting from the Mideast?"

Saturday, April 27, 2013

I fogottza: let's make focaccia

When Annalena was a ragazzo, she and her sisters used to torment their Nonna whenever she made focaccia.  It LOOKED like a pizza, but there was no tomato on it, and no mozzarella.  Nana called it focaccia, and of course, the bambini renamed it, because "Nana fogotta da tomatoes."

Annalena never said she was good as a child.  While she doesn't regret being a child and doing that (Nana eventually started calling it fogotta pizza too), she wishes she had watched her Nana make it.  Because focaccia is NOT pizza.  And Annalena has tried at least a dozen recipes claiming to be the "definitive" one, and has found them all lacking.  BUT... Ms. Clark of the New York Times published a recipe this week, which has supplanted all in Annalena's mind.  What follows is  Annalena's interpretation of that recipe.

A big difference between focaccia and pizza, is the amount of oil in focaccia.  That is what makes it so substantial, and why you will see slices of it in the baskets of mixed bread, in good Italian restaurants. Because tomato sauce is not used,  you have a great deal of liberty in making the stuff.  Some restaurants and bakers do in fact add tomato back to the focaccia dough, usually in the form of paste or dried tomatoes,  but generally, you will find herbs, olives, things of this nature.    The amount of oil, however, means that focaccia does not keep well, and this becomes a problem, because it is usually baked in huge sheets.  So if there are two, or three, or even four of you, you will make too much focaccia, and wind up tossing it.

Another issue is that focaccia should taste different from pizza.  At its base, it is almost a mix of fried, and baked bread.  So, how do we address these issues.

Ms Clark's solution, if Annalena does say so herself, is brilliant"  rather than bake the focaccia in a large sheet, she suggests baking rounds of it, in 9 inch cake pans.  Also, rather than do what is a tradition in focaccia making, which is dimpling the dough and making puddles of oil in it (which inevitably spill on you when you eat it), she adds a good quantity of oil to the bottom of the pan.  This, too, is brilliant, both for "bake frying" the dough, and also for distributing the oil throughout the dough, as we shall see.

Ok, so let's get started.  We need 1.5 cups of water,  4 teaspoons (which is one tablespoon, and one teaspoon) of dry yeast,  3/4 cup of olive oil  a talbespoon of salt,  4 cups of regular white flour, and one of whole wheat.  Put  all of this in a big bowl, and with your mixer, get it going.  Do be warned that with all the oil in the dough, this is not going to cohere like a loaf of bread, or a pizza dough.  It IS going to be a bit problematic, if that's what you look for.   Don't.   Just look for an even combining of everything.  Then, put it aside, covered, for a good two hours.  (the recipe said one hour.  This is way too short a time).

Keep checking the dough by poking a finger deep into it, and then coming back in ten minutes.  If the hole fills, it is not ready.  If it does not, it is.  When it is ready,  you need to divide it into three pieces, and either freeze it if you are not using it, or use it right away.

This later point is important, because as Annalena found out, if you let the focaccia dough rise, it becomes very delicate, which is good, but prone to tearing, which is not.    So she suggests you put two of the portions into your freezer, and work with the third one.

Annalena's topping here, was ramps (get em while you can), and a very soft sheeps milk cheese which she had left over from dinner with Ginger peachy.  You can use whatever you like, but if you do the ramp topping, get a small bunch of leeks, wash them, and then chop the leaves into slices. As usual, we do not need surgical precision here.  Put a tablespoon of oil in a small pan (olive oil, please) and at medium heat, saute' the whole bulb portion of the ramps until they begin to brown (careful readers will see that you can use green garlic, scallions,  or any member of the lily family we have discussed.  You could even use chopped garlic cloves).    You need about two minutes. Then add the leaves, stir them in the hot oil, and your topping is finished, except for maybe a bit of salt and hot pepper.

Put another 3 tablespoons of oil into a 9 inch cake pan, and then start pressing the dough  into it.  This is NOT an easy dough to work with, so perservere.  You will notice that while you do this, the oil oozes over the entire surface of the dough.   This is PRECISELY what you want to happen.

When you have it spread out as much as you think you can, then put the topping on, and put it in a 450 oven, for fifteen minutes (Ms. Clark's recommended time of 30 minutes would have burned Annalena's focaccia to a crisp). Keep an eye on it.  You want some uneven browning, but browning is indeed what you want. Not tan,  BROWN.  and when you're there,  if you wish to use a soft cheese, put it over the top, turn off the oven, and let it sit for about five minutes.

All the oil in the pan will make this very easy to take out and serve forth.  You COULD cut it into pieces in the pan, but if you like your baking ware, you won't do this.

How many does this serve? How hungry are you ?  Truly, Annalena can eat a whole one herself. Plan accordingly ragazzi, and watch your Nanas cook. You won't regret it.

Friday, April 26, 2013

You made it, now use it: Steak with rosemary oil

You will almost never find flavored oils in Annalena's kitchen.  Why?  one might very well ask.  Well, the reason is very simple:  flavored oils are not shelf stable.  They can, and will , get toxic on you, unless they contain the ugly "p" word:  preservatives.  Yes, ragazzi, all those oils flavored with truffle, or garlic, or anything else, either has a preservative in it, or the flavoring is artificial.  It is that simple.  If you like them, fine, but if you are avoiding things that are artificial, as a matter of principle,  you need to know this.  If it is an oil that has a "thing" in it, like a garlic clove, or other herbs, etc, it DEFINITELY has a preservative in it.

Anytime you put something, as we Italians say  "sottolio," or "under oil," you MUST refrigerate it, period.  Anything living:  fruit, vegetables, herbs, etc, has bacteria or yeast on them.  These critters love fat, and  what's oil...?  (Annalena doesn't have to explain that, does she?).  Even if you don't see it, those buggies are making their , well, how do we put it, their "waste products" or "bug poopies"  all the time.  And some of them are really not nice.  Think of botulism, ragazzi.   That's bug poopy.

Incidentally, generally this is NOT true for vinegar.  The very acidic nature of vinegar actually arrests, and sometimes kills the buggies. While Annalena is not going to recommend this, there are reports in the medical literature of sterilizing wounds, with vinegar.  Annalena hopes that it was diluted.

So if you want to have a flavored oil, you will have to make it yourself.   And store it in your refrigerator.  So, unless you have an enormous amount of space, and are planning to use lots of flavored oil,  you will be making very small quantities of it.  And it's easy to do.  We're going to make rosemary oil today, and then we're going to use it to flavor a steak. And Annalena will tell you how she varied the recipe that she found for this.

Let's make our oil.  Start with 3/4 cup of a good, but not horribly good, extra virgin olive oil.  Annalena has two oils that she uses regularly:  her California oil, which she buys in gallon jugs, and her fancy Italian oil, that Patrizia sends her from Umbria.  For this, she used her California oil.   Put this oil in a small pot, and add a SCANT half a cup of chopped rosemary.  You can use the whole sprig - no need, in fact it is not recommended -  to take the needles off the branches.  The branches are going to help retard the heat when you make this, and that in turn prevents the needles from burning.

Turn the pot to low heat, and bring the stuff to 140 degrees.  If you have a thermometer, this is easy.  If you don't, stop after 2-3 minutes.  Smell the stuff.  Are you getting a hint of that piney rosemary scent you know?  If you are, you're there.  If you're not, go for another minute, but no longer.  Then take it off the heat, and let it cool.  When it's cool, unless you're using it right away, refrigerate it.


Now, let's make a steak.  And here's what you'll need.  A flank steak, a hanger steak, a London broil,  some slices of braciole steak - any beef that is very thin.  Annalena had a grass fed flank steak, about a pound or so.  If at all possible, salt this the morning of dinner, or even the night before, and let it sit in the fridge.

The original recipe called upon us to make yet another oil - a garlic oil - and to slice the steak into four smaller ones.  Annalena did not see the point of combining garlic oil, AND rosemary oil, on a steak.  If, however, you disagree, you can make the garlic oil by slicing up six cloves of garlic,  and putting them in 6 tablespoons of olive oil at low heat, until the garlic browns.  Then take it out.

We will not do that here.  Nor will we cut the meat into four pieces.  Rather, we will get our grill pan very hot, and spread some plain olive oil on it.  When it's very hot, put the steak on the grill pan, for two -four minutes per side.  IF the steak curls upwards, and it may, press it down with a heavy pan, or a can of tomatoes, or something like that.

This gives you a rare steak. If you want it a bit more cooked, put it in a 350 oven for ten minutes.  Whatever you do, let the steak rest for five minutes, and during that rest time, crack some black pepper all over it.  Then slice it across the grain, and just as you plate it, pour about a tablespoon of the rosemary oil over the meat.

The rosemary oil is definitely "there," and to Annalena, rosemary and black pepper are a wonderful match.

If you haven't put the oil away already, do so now.  And save it for the next time you want something where you think rosemary will work well.  Annalena is thinking that it may be just the thing for a mushroom risotto, for example.

SPRING IS HERE  and Annalena is doing her happy dance.  Asparagus, ramps, and nettles are all in the market.  When we come back, perhaps we will be making ramp focaccia together.  Check in and see, because you never know what Annalena is going to be up to next.

Thursday, April 25, 2013

Let us leave the lettuce alone. Salad of hearts of palm, avocado, and....

Annalena insists on a salad at every meal.  PERIOD .  It didn't used to be that way, but after she started reading the writings of  Alice Waters, who feels, with some good reason, that a salad is the hardest part of the meal to prepare, she started serving them.  Every night.  Annalena's salads are almost always green, but not always lettuce.  In fact, they are rarely lettuce, or lettuce by themselves.   Mache, arugula, pea shoots, etc, all make appearances in Annalena's salads, as the main ingredient. About half the time, they are the ONLY ingredient, with a simple vinaigrette.  The other half the time, there is some "enhancer," for lack of a better word, like dried fruit, or candied nuts, or olives, or cheese, etc.

Annalena and the Guyman's taste in the greens for salads runs toward the bitter end of the spectrum.  For most people, this is fine.  For others, it is not.  Their friend, whom Annalena shall refer to as  "ginger peachy" due to his complexion,  decidedly does NOT like bitter greens.  But he DOES like beets.  Keep this in mind as you read.

So as Annalena was preparing the menu for a dinner for "GP", she found a salad recipe that seemed right, and brought back memories of an ingredient she had stopped using: heart of palm.

Back in "the day," when Annalena was a law student, she and her friend Liz discovered heart of palm at just about the same time.  To us, it was an exotic ingredient and ultimately, it still is.  Pale white, thick, soft, with the taste of the can that you simple will not be able to eliminate completely, it is exactly what the name says:  it is the heart of a palm tree.  Indeed, this made it even more exoitc.  And we used it often.  We made salads.  We made gratins.  We fried it.  Annalena THINKS we missed baking with it, but maybe we didn't.

As she approached her dotage, Annalena stopped using it because, well, it's in cans, and she has told you all how she feels about canned foods.  From time to time, she was able to get "fresh" heart of palm, in vacuum  packs, but they simply weren't the same.  To be honest, they didn't taste as good as the canned stuff, and they were tough.  She has also tried, and liked , the closest we have to "local" heart of palm," which is the core of young cat tails, which are available to some degree at farmers markets late in the summer.  These are tough, and require a helluva lot of work.

So, when Annalena saw a recipe in a "gourmet" magazine, giving her permission to use canned heart of palm, she jumped at the chance, and used it.  After modifying it.

This is a good salad.  It has an unusual quality about it, that you will not find in green salads:  you can store what you do not use, and use it the next day.  As she and the Guyman did.  In fact, it may be better.    Annalena shall give you the recipe as it was written, and as she changed it.

You start with two cans of heart of palm, drained.  You will have somewhere between 8 and 10 sticks of palm.  Drain them and pat them dry.  Cut them into circles, about 1/3 of an inch big, and put them into a salad bowl. Eyeball how much you have.  Now, get a ripe avocado (the rough skinned kind:  Haas), and peel it and cut it into small pieces.  Put that in the bowl as well.

The original recipe now called for yellow cherry tomatoes, cut in half.  If you use them, use about as much volume as you have heart of palm.  BUT....

Remember when I said "GP" liked beets?  Well, Annalena had chioggia beets, which have a rosy hue, and golden beets, which have a golden hue, in her refrigerator.  If you like beets, and you have them around, chop them into pieces about as big as the avocado and palm and again, use an equal volume.  (You can learn how to cook beets by searching on this blog).

Now, the dressing.  The original called for two tablespoons of lime juice, two tablespoons of mayonnaise, and two tablespoons of olive oil. Annalena suggests you leave out the olive oil.  The dressing is wet enough as it is, and mayonnaise is pretty rich.  Add salt and pepper to taste, and then pour it all over the salad.  Taste, and if you want more salt, add it then.

The dressing will be a little wet when you make it.  If you store the salad leftovers (if there are any), overnight, the dressing will thicken, and you will need to add some more oil and vinegar the next day.  On the next day,  Annalena did add arugula, and the salad was wonderful.

Play with this, ragazzi.  Do keep the palm and the avocado, but vary ingredient number three as you see fit. And tell Annalena how it turns out.  She DOES want to know.

Wednesday, April 24, 2013

The mystery of marinades: Pork chops in honey orange vinegar glaze

Ok, Annalena needs to say something right at the start.  We're going to be making pork chops with this recipe.  Now, if you do not eat red meat, or animal protein, for health reasons, for reasons of personal dislike, etc, Annalena is fine with that.  BUT... if you are not eating meat because of cruelty issues, but eat fish, or eat food that has been picked or produced by migrant workers,  she does.  Annalena eats meat.  She eats it frequently.  And she does what her Nonna taught her, and says a prayer of thanks to the animal which gave its life so that she could eat.  But beyond that, Annalena investigates the sources of all proteins that she buys:  she wants to see pictures of the farms, how the animals are raised.  She wants to know how many animals are harvested (and she uses that word in the sense of any other food),  before she makes her decision.  The result is a clearer conscience , and also better tasting food.

Do keep in mind, ragazzi, that if you are a vegetarian, the food you are eating was undoubtedly picked by an underpaid worker, living in bad conditions, who breathed in toxins from pesticides, etc. There are tradeoffs.  None of us can say we are "clean" because of what we eat, or don't eat.   Let us not throw stones.

This diatribe has been brought about because of criticism of some of Annalena's dishes, and the alleged "cruelty" they cause.  Feeding your family bad food, is cruel.  PERIOD.

Ok, end of that.  Now, onto the mystery of marinades.  We are, collectively, fascinated with them, be they brines,  dry rubs, wet rubs, etc, which are all "marinades," because of the flavor they impart to food.

Truth is, ragazzi, most marinades don't put that much flavor into what they're used on.  It is a plain old fact.  Marinades, originally, were intended to permit acids to break down tough proteins.  If you sit fish, or meat, in any kind of acid, it essentially tenderizes the meat.  Sometimes, too much.  Add salt, and you do get some flavor added to the protein, because the salt will diffuse into the meat tissue.  Fact is, however, other molecules are too big.  They sit on the surface of the protein, but don't really get into it much.

If  you ever wanted to see this in action, put a chunk of tofu into a heavy soy marinade. Let it sit for a day.  Cut the tofu.  Check the penetration of the color.  Put the stuff back, and soak another day.  Look again. And so on and so forth.  It's a good lesson.

Marinades, however, when used well, do add flavor, as well as the above mentioned tenderizing - even when the meat is tender to begin with.    Most marinades can be used - as we will here - to make a glaze or reduction.  This in turn compliments the protein, which has received just the "tinge" of flavor the marinade added.

Ok, so here we go.  We're going to make pork chops.  Get four nice sized ones, from a reputable place - like your farmers market.  Expect to pay much for this, that's the way it is. Pork chops are expensive,  artisanal pork is more expensive, and cruelty free, even more.  It's worth it.  They should weigh about 8 ounces each (half a pound), and have a bone in them.    Put them aside, while you mix 3/4 cup of honey (probably you have it in the back of your cupboard.  Dig around), the juice of an orange, together with the grated peel of that fruit, and 1/4 cup of white wine, champagne, or cider vinegar (incidentally, if you don't find that honey, use maple syrup).  Put a handful of small rosemary stems in with this.  Rub the needles between your fingers to release some of the oil.  Add about a teaspoon of salt, and some pepper.  Now stir this all together, put it in a bowl, and add the pork chops.  Stir it together, and then put everything in a big, sturdy plastic bag, and put the bag in a bowl. Put this in your fridge, and let it sit overnight.

Now, in the original recipe, after you've done this, it says to let it sit  "at least 2 hours or up to overnight."  Now,   Annalena asks:  if you can let something sit for 2 hours, or 8,  doesn't that tell you something about the effect?

The original recipe calls for putting these in the broiler; however, Annalena prefers to do this another way.  Get out your grill pan, and oil it lightly.  Turn it on, and also turn on your oven to 375.  Meanwhile, drain the marinade from the pork, and pull out the rosemary.  Toss it.    Take the marinade, put it in a small pan, and let it reduce to half. Watch it:  this stuff boils up, and if your pan is too small, you'll have a mess.

When your ridged grill pan is ready, pat the chops dry, and salt them again.  Let them cook for about four - five minutes per side.  Look at what happens:  you will get very dark cooking.  The reason for that is the sugars in the honey and the juice.  They did stay on the surface, and you are getting carmelization.    After the ten minutes,  brush the reduced marinade on one side of the chops, and then get them in the oven for another ten minutes.  After that, PROTECT YOUR HANDS,  take out the pan, flip the chops and brush them with the reduction again.

Annalena also wants you to taste the marinade before it goes on the chops.  What do you taste?  Bet not a lot of rosemary. The heating transformed it into something else.  It is now like the "bass notes" in music.  You'd know if it weren't there, but you don't know it's rosemary.    And also, remember the taste of the marinade when you eat your chops.  It won't be the same, and if you like, you can pour some of the left over reduction on the chops, at table, or add it to whatever starch you're eating.

These are good.  They are VERY good.  They have a sweetness, and a complexity, that you will not find without the marinade, nor will you get it with just glazing the meat as you cook.  You'll be happy you did this, but as you work with these recipes, you will begin to understand the limitations and the plusses of this whole family of ingredients.

Thursday is steak night at home, ragazzi, and we will be exploring "infusions."  Stay tuned.

Tuesday, April 23, 2013

Juicing : scallops in fresh apple juice reduction

Now, now.  For any of you who may have thought this, let Annalena make something very clear:  she does NOT juice.

Some of you may be thinking  "how would she think she juiced ?  Is she KIDDING?"   Ragazzi, Annalena knows that her physique, albeit not the mountainous one of the past, would not tease anyone into thinking she juices THAT way.  No, no no.  She is writing about the juice craze, where people make their own juices at home.

Annalena's kitchen is crowded with so many machines and implements that, although she is constantly "wanting" things, Annalena will not add anything unless it serves several purposes.  A juicer does not.  It juices.  Annalena is not a juice drinking woman.  The only juice she consumes is wine (it's grape juice after all), and an occasional spritz of fresh citrus, for which she has a hand squeezer.  It does just fine.  The mess of juice preparation (all that pulp), the cleaning of the equipment, and frankly, the calories involved,  have succeeded in keeping  Annalena from the whole juice extravaganza.  It hasn't been a truly big thing, as the only thing Annalena can remember regretting she could not make, was a green apple sorbet from Lindsay Shere's book on desserts, because it called for fresh apple juice.

And FRESH apple juice is necessary because, as those of you who imbibe will know, almost immediately after being prepared, fresh apple juice discolors.  It oxidizes. That is why that big bottle of it you find in the supermarket is brown colored.  No, that is not the color of the juice, it is artificial (or natural) color added, to mask the unappetizing brown of oxidized apple juice.

Oh, dear. A digression. But a helpful one. Also, one has to remember that when drinking fresh juice, a glass of, say, orange juice, is the equivalent of at least three, sometimes four, fresh pieces of fruit. At some levels, fresh juice is almost the same as soda.  So, no fresh juice, and no juicer.

So when Annalena saw this recipe, she despaired of making it, as it calls for fresh juice.  BUT... it makes a relatively small quantity, is helped by the greatest ingredient of all - water - and it calls for a blender.  She was dubious, but is now very pleased and sees this recipe going into her repertoire.

Let's cook.

You will need two granny smith apples, a large lemon,  and then 2 tablespoons of olive oil, a pound of scallops, the largest you can find and a tablespoon of unsalted butter.  Also salt and pepper.

Note the minimalism of the recipe.  It is in accord with our themes, right ragazzi?

Now, let's make the apple juice.  Cut up one of those granny smiths in large chunks, and core it.  Get rid of the stem, but do not peel it.  Put it in a blender with the juice of that lemon, and 1/4 cup of water.  Puree, and sing a song to yourself while you do, to break down the apple as much as possible.  You'll see this lovely "stuff," the beautiful green color of a luna moth  (if you have never seen a luna moth, take steps to rectify this immediately).  Get a find strainer, and a bowl. Pour the stuff into the strainer, and press down.  The pulp will stay behind, and the juice goes into the bowl.  You will wind up with somewhere between 3/4 and a full cup.

Get to work on the second apple.  This time, you do peel it.  Core it, and cut it into small cubes - about half an inch, and keep in mind this is home cooking, so perfect cuts are not necessary.  Put those chunks into a bowl with the juice you made.  The lemon juice is going to keep everything from browning, while you make your scallops.


To make them,  spread out the scallops on a plate or tray and dry them very well.  This is an important step. Then sprinkle salt and pepper on them.  Get a big pan, and add two tablespoons of olive oil.  It is all you will need.  Let it cover the pan, and get hot.  Now add the scallops.  You might want to use a timer, because you don't want them to cook more than 2 minutes on a side.  If the oil is hot enough, they will brown nicely, and if they are dry enough, they will not stick. (if you are nervous about any of this, use a non-stick pan, and if it's not large enough, cook the scallops in batches).  Put them back on their tray, or plate, and put them aside.  Add the tablespoon of butter, and when it melts, add the juice and apples.  Kick up the heat as high as it will go.  Stir every now and then, and watch the juice carmelize (bye bye bright green color), and the apple bits cook to aldente.    Divide your scallops, and then pour equal amounts of this stuff over them.

If you are so inclined, you might add some greens, like pea shoots, or other like product, to the hot oil before you pour it over the scallops, but such is not necessary.  These are both very light, fresh flavors (scallop and apple), and to Annalena's taste, the greens overpower them.


No juicing, ragazzi, even if you think that guy is hot.  Drink your juice, if you must, and in any case, do make this recipe.

Monday, April 22, 2013

Only eat what you knead: buttermilk bread

Ragazzi, Annalena knows that most of you have no wish, desire, motivation, etc, to make your own bread, and whilst she disagrees with you and thinks you're lazy for it, she respects this decision.

Well, not really; however, she refrains from posting homemade bread recipes, because she knows...

Except when she finds one that is exceptional.   And ragazzi, this one is.  You do have to go and get a product that is not going to be in your pantry (or, perhaps make a substitution, as Annalena will explain), but it's worth it. And if you make this, Annalena thinks you will almost certainly say something along the lines of "why haven't I done this before."  You will, of course, remember your manners and say a thank you to Annalena,  and she'll wait and smile.

As she has written before, Annalena started making her own bread when she found the preservatives in the bread she was buying to be too problematic.  Also, there were , and are, so many ways to make a delicious loaf of bread  that you will never find most of them in any market.  No question, there are  bread makers who care, and make wonderful bread, but let's say you have a hankering for spicy cheddar cheese bread with jalapenos?  Bet you won't find it.  Or walnut and sausage bread?  Nope.  And so on, and so forth.

This one is nowhere near as fancy as those, but it is pretty darn good.  And it's a good, basic loaf to make so that you, 'get your feet wet' or your hands in some dough.

The ingredient (actually, there are two), which you will need to gather, is buttermilk powder.   This is essentially the same thing as dried milk powder, but adapted for bread making.  You will also need semolina flour, just a bit.  If you can find neither, or are not inclined to look for them, in the recipe which follows, substitute all purpose, unbleached flour for the semolina.  As for the buttermilk powder, replace at least half, and up to 2/3 of the water, with buttermilk.  And if you have no buttermilk, then you can do one of several things.  You can make the same replacement suggested above, with whole, or 2% milk, with a tablespoon of white vinegar added.  Or, you can take a cup of yogurt,and then thin it with water or milk to make the quantity you want (use plain yogurt, kids).

Ready?  Here we go.  For two nice loaves, you will need 4 cups of all purpose white flour,  and 2 cups of whole wheat.  You can go to six cups of white, but this is such an easy way to get some fiber into your diet.  You will also need a cup of semolina flour.  As above, make the substitution, if you need to.  Now, if you have the buttermilk powder, add a half a cup of it to the flour mix.    Annalena's original recipe calls for sugar, which she dismisses as unnecessary.

Keep those dry ingredients at hand, as you put 2.5 cups of liquid into a bowl.  Again, what that liquid is, depends on what you have at hand.   (and if you happen to have left over water from boiling potatoes:  FABULOUS).  Add a tablespoon and a teaspoon of yeast to this liquid, making sure it is no warmer than room temperature.  Add a couple of teaspoons of salt.

Now, start adding that flour mixture, a cup at a time.  If you are using a mixer, you can increase it to two, and use the dough hook.  If you are doing it by hand, use a spoon.  For you by hand folks, when it gets too stiff to stir, put it on the table, and knead the rest of that flour in, little by little.  For machine folks like Annalena,  after you have the flour in, switch to a dough hook.  Knead the stuff, by hand, for about 10 minutes, or six by machine (or, until your machine tells you "I've had enough," and stops.  They do that).


You just made bread!  Yes, you did.  Now, you let the yeasty beasties do what they do, and put the dough aside, covered, for an hour and a half to two hours.  Annalena has made over 2000 loaves of bread, and she remains amazed by this process.  When the dough has doubled, punch it down, divide it into two pieces, and form logs of each piece, before putting them into lightly greased 9x5 baking pans. You can use the smaller size  8x4, but you will get a very tall, exaggerated loaf here.  There's 7 cups of flour in all.  That's a lot for two small loaves.

Cover these loaves, until they crest over the top of the pan. You're looking at probably another hour or so, while you preheat the oven to 350.

Put the loaves in, and bake them for 30-40 minutes , until you have that miraculous golden brown color.

Your home will smell like you're an old fashioned gal when you're making this, and the bread is spectacular.  You can eat it just plain, as the Guyman and Annalena did, or use it for sandwiches (as we are), of any type.

The astute amongst you will see the possibility of herbs,  or cheese, or sun dried tomatoes, or olives, or other good things in this.  Go for it, says Annalena, but try it straight up the first time, because there is nothing quite like a good, honest loaf of the homemade stuff.

She WILL turn some of you into bread bakers.