the passionfruit

revisiting italy: pasta al crudaiola

2012-01-19T17:18:00.002-05:00

I don't know why grape tomatoes seem to be in good shape at any time of year that I look for them, but in the dead of winter when any typical tomato is sad and lackluster, you can usually find a little box of nice grape tomatoes.

For my second attempt at recapturing our Italian honeymoon - this Pasta Al Crudaiola is inspired by a lunch we had at Trattoria Trebbi in Bologna. This is actually a Pugliese dish, from Southern Italy, which makes sense because it is so light and summery. Incredibly simple, incredibly fresh, dishes like this are why I love Italian food so much. You can taste every element, nothing overwhelms, and the flavors complement each other so nicely. It is also a super quick meal being as how the word "crudaiola" means raw - nothing is really cooked except the pasta. For my taste, I throw the tomatoes into a saute pan for just a minute before adding the cooked pasta and tossing, just to take the edge off of the rawness, but you could certainly skip that step and just toss the pasta with all raw ingredients.

What made me especially happy about this dish was that it essentially provides a canvas for you to grate excessive amounts of ricotta salata over. I'm rather obsessed with ricotta salata, a pressed and salted dry ricotta. It is softer than most grating cheeses, and the briney flavor more subtle. It goes especially well with vegetables, like one of my favorite pastas with cauliflower and walnuts. Recipe after the jump:

PASTA AL CRUDAIOLA

1 lb pasta of your choice (I used fresh linguine, but traditionally this is made with short pasta like penne)
1 pint grape tomatoes, halved
1/2 cup black olives, sliced
6-7 leaves fresh basil, chiffonaded
1 clove garlic, minced
1/4 cup pine nuts, toasted
extra virgin olive oil
salt and pepper, to taste
1/2 cup grated ricotta salata, to taste

Prepare the pasta according to package directions and drain. Combine the tomatoes, garlic, and olives in a large saute pan with a teaspoon of the olive oil and saute for no more than a minute. Add the drained pasta, fresh basil, pine nuts, and additional olive oil to coat and toss well to combine. Taste for salt and pepper. Serve in warm pasta bowls and grate the ricotta salata over individual bowls.

revisiting italy: bollito sandwich

2012-01-11T20:53:00.000-05:00

Three months and a crazy trip to China later, and what is still on my mind? Italy. On the coldest days in northern China, with too many hours between meals and seriously low on sleep, I dreamed of Spaghetti Carbonara in Rome and Tortelloni in Bologna. And perhaps most of all, those unbelievable bollito sandwiches at Nerbone in Florence. Our cheapest, quickest meal - and the one we talked about the most - it was the first dish we tried to replicate for ourselves when we got home. While NYC is an excellent source of great pasta, this sandwich doesn't seem to have broken through here, and I don't know of anywhere to get it.

Luckily, there's nothing complicated about it, and we were able to devise a fairly faithful rendition without too much fuss. We tried it with brisket, which is the classic cut for bollito misto. I think the key here is to find a brisket with a really thick fat cap. No one is trying to be healthy when eating a beef sandwich, and all the real flavor and moisture will depend on that fat. Think Texas barbecue brisket fat.

Beyond that, boiling the beef is as straightforward as it gets, so the remainder of the focus needs to be on the sauces. Two sauces were served on the sandwich at Nerbone; a green, parsley-based sauce with a nice garlic kick, and a spicy red sauce. The green sauce was easy to figure out, it's essentially a chimichurri. The red sauce a little more complicated, but safe to assume it's mostly chilis and oil. For my taste, I like a lot of green sauce and just a touch of spicy, so I went light on the red sauce but amped up the garlic on the green sauce. We're also lucky to live right around the corner from an excellent Italian bread bakery, Napoli Bakery, which sells rosette rolls that are very similar to the ones that Nerbone uses. Big plus, buy rolls at Napoli on Friday or Saturday morning and get a loaf of their lard bread. Best kept secret in the neighborhood.

Recipe after the jump:

BOLLITO SANDWICH WITH TWO SALSAS

1 flat-cut brisket, untrimmed (approx. 3 pounds)
2 carrots, halved
2 celery stalks, halved
1 onion, quartered
1 garlic clove, crushed
salsa verde (recipe follows)
salsa rosso (recipe follows)

Bring 2 liters of water to a boil in a pot large enough to hold the brisket. Add brisket, carrots, celery, onion and garlic. Cook for 3 hours or until meat becomes very tender. Remove meat from the pot and let rest. Reserve the cooking liquid for the sandwich. Slice across the grain into thin slices. Pile meat onto a soft rosette roll which has been dipped in the brisket's cooking liquid, and top with the salsas.

SALSA VERDE

1 large bunch flat leaf parsley
3 oz capers
5 fillets anchovies
2 cloves garlic
salt and pepper to taste
juice of 1 lemon
1/2 cup extra virgin olive oil

Finely chop parsley, capers, garlic and anchovies. Place in a large jar and add lemon juice and oil. Mix well, taste and season with salt and pepper.

SALSA ROSSO

1 cup fresh hot Italian peppers (Peperoncino, Anaheim, or Cubanelle will work)
2 garlic cloves
1/2 cup sun-dried tomatoes
a bunch fresh basil leaves
1/2 cup extra virgin olive oil

Finely chop the peppers (keep seeds if you want it spicy), garlic, tomatoes, and basil. Place in a large jar and add olive oil to cover.

eating italy part 4: modena

2011-11-22T17:18:00.003-05:00

Yes, there is more, despite my posting neglect. I saved the best for last, and really made you wait for it. On our last full day in Italy, to cap off our food pilgrimage, we were lucky enough to tour the Emilia-Romagna countryside to see how some of the best and most important foods in the world are produced. Taking the Italian Days Food Experience tour was a big exception to our anti-tour style, and it was so worth an exception. (Note that we're not necessarily against taking formal tours, we just like wandering on our own. We definitely took tours when that was the only way to see something, like the Vatican Scavi or the Colosseum Underground, or this. Tours can be good.)

The IDFE is worth taking a trip to Bologna, even if you didn't intend to. It was so good that I didn't even mind waking up super early in the morning for the pick-up, since I knew that stop one was cheese and I didn't want to miss the cooking. A relatively short drive with our hilarious and wonderful guide Alessandro to Modena brought us to a small Pargmiggiano-Reggiano factory where they only produce a maximum of 16 wheels of P-R a day. This particular factory is a collective, with milk provided by a handful of small dairies in the region.

The eight copper-lined vats make two wheels each. The "casaro" is the cheese chef, and is the only person in the factory who is allowed to cook the cheese. Only he knows exactly when the cooking is done and what the perfect texture should be.

After it's cooked, cut, and the curds have separated from the whey, two other cheese dudes give birth to a giant wheel by scooping it up from the bottom of the deep vat. The vats are much deeper than they look from the outside, they are set into the ground.

The large wheel is lightly shaped and held up by cheesecloth to later be sliced into two smaller wheels. Finally, they are fished out of the whey and set into a plastic mold. The whey, by the way (ha!), is used to feed pigs for Parma ham.

After a few days, the formed wheels take a bath in a brine for about 20 days. Next comes a whole bunch of aging and whatnot that I won't go into here.

The exciting part is after twelve months when the wheels are tested by the Consorzio Parmigiano-Reggiano inspectors for uniformity and structural soundness. This inspection determines whether it can be considered Parmiggiano-Reggiano D.O.P (protected designation of origin), or just cheese. First class P-R looks like this:

Second class P-R has these horizontal lines etched into it. It is still considered P-R DOP, but cannot be aged as long as first class so will not have as deep a flavor.

Third class has the P-R imprints completely etched out and is called cheese, not P-R. It must be sold fairly young.

Our visit to the factory was topped off with a tasting of the two top classes of P-R so we can see how much of a difference the age of the cheese makes. I love really aged P-R, especially when you get the little salty crystals. We also had our first of many glasses of Lambrusco of the day. It was just after 9AM. It was shaping up to be a long day.

Stop two: Balsamic Vinegar. Real BV, Aceto Balsamico Tradizionale, also DOP, produced on a family-owned villa in Modena. True balsamic vinegar is made from a reduction of pressed Trebbiano and Lambrusco grapes, and only in Reggio Emilia and Modena. The thick syrup cooked from the grapes is aged in these barrels for a minimum of twelve months before it can be sent to the consortium for testing to determine if it can earn a DOP status, or must be considered condimento, a much less valuable but still really tasty result. As you can see by the small size of the barrels on the left, you don't get a huge amount of vinegar after twelve months of work, plus you can only take out a fraction of what that barrel holds, because you want to keep the aging process going. We got to taste condimento on some homemade gelato, plus some balsamic jelly on the still-warm ricotta cheese from the P-R factory (ricotta is a by-product of P-R making). But the best of course was that we got to taste a bit of the 40-year aged vinegar, which was truly like nothing I've tasted before. You really learn how drastically different real balsamico is from the stuff that is readily available here in the states. Interestingly, I also learned that real Aceto Balsamico Tradizionale can only be sold in one shape of bottle, and nothing else can use that shape. It is sort of a bulbous bottom with a long neck. If your BV is not in this shape bottle, it is technically not real!

Also, booze count, we knocked back some nocino - walnut liquer - that this family also produces. Apparently that stuff is about 80 proof. Not even 11AM yet.

Finally, speaking of those pigs that eat the whey from the P-R factory, we next went to factory for Prosciutto di Modena.

Alessandro kept warning us that this place was going to smell funky, but I didn't mind it at all. I freaking love that funky smell of curing meat. It was, however, really freaking cold in that factory, but Alessandro doesn't seem to feel it anymore. Here his is showing us an especially ginormous leg.

And, of course, there is that brand designating this prosciutto as DOP, which can only be produced from pigs in the central and northern areas of Italy, especially Parma, San Daniele, and Modena, where this factory was. The process, like the P-R and BV, is a long and labored one - the ham is first cleaned, salted, and left for about two months. During this time, the ham is pressed, gradually and carefully, to avoid breaking the bone, and to drain all blood left in the meat. Next, it is washed several times to remove the salt, and is hung in a dark environment. The surrounding air is important to the final quality of the ham; the best results are obtained in a cold climate. The ham is then left until dry. The amount of time this takes varies, depending on the local climate and size of the ham. When the ham is completely dry, it is hung to air, either at room temperature or in a controlled environment, for up to eighteen months. Of course we topped off this section of the journey tasting some prosciutto. Plus more Lambrusco. Did I mention that we hadn't even gotten to lunch yet?

Because lunch is what really went over the top on this tour. We drove up very windy roads into the hills outside of Bologna, where I could not believe anyone but hunters would go on a regular basis. By the way, we passed a Lamborgini parked at the side of the road on our way up, so perhaps hunters do very well there? At the top of the hill was a little trattoria that looked nothing like a restaurant, but like a small private cottage. No sign, no indication of its existence. And there we were bombarded with food. The name of this place was not clear, but Alessandro said that it was known as the Hunter's Trattoria, because they cooked a lot of game killed by the local hunters right in that area. Sure enough, soon after we were seated a group of five men with rifles came in for lunch.

The meal started off with pasta. Not just pasta, four pastas. Four. I didn't even get pictures of all the pasta because it was overwhelming and amazing and I was already a little drunk (see notes above about all the booze I drank before I even got to this place). There was a tortellini (very bolognese) with porcini mushrooms in a buttery sauce. Then a caramelle stuffed with meat in a red sauce. Then more tortellini in a cream sauce, because when you're already pretty full of course you want cream sauce! Then there was a tortelloni - a much larger version of tortellini - filled with cheese. All of the pasta was awesome and overwhelming, but then came the meats.

And remember, we're in hunter country right now, so the meats were appropriately hunted right around the little trattoria - rabbit and wild boar. Missed the shot of the wild boar, which was stewed until super tender in a tomato base. The rabbit was done as a fricasse with lots of rosemary and wine. Super delicious.

Oh wait, there's more! Don't forget the house-made salami!

And in case you were wondering, there was plenty of wine at this meal, but that didn't stop them from serving up some gelato milkshakes spiked with rum for dessert. Needless to say, we snoozed all the way back to the hotel, then snoozed some more before it was time to venture back out for our last night in Italy. Shocking for us, but we didn't even eat dinner that night. Some snacking, and of course some gelato, but we stayed stuffed for days. Bellissimo!

eating italy part 3: bologna

2011-10-25T14:14:00.001-04:00

I've been holding out on you. I've been neglecting to gush about the endless cups of gelato I inhaled throughout our Italy adventure. This is partially because I ate so much of it that it is a bit of a sugar blur, but mostly it's just because I didn't take pictures. Gelato was almost always eaten while strolling, when both hands were occupied and the late summer heat was threatening frozen integrity. But I got this shot, triumphantly!

Yes, it's true, that is a gelato sandwich. Upon arrival in Bologna, I promptly found Cremeria Funivia, a beautiful, sleek, and modern gelateria on Piazza Cavour in the heart of the city known for innovative flavors and supremely exacting standards. I had them stuff three flavors of gelato into this "focaccia". This is nothing like the salty, oily focaccia that we know, this was like a soft brioche bun with a bit of sugar on top. That might just look like vanilla, but there's more to the story in there. The first flavor was one of their specials, the San Luca, a white chocolate gelato with "riso soffiato croccante", essentially Rice Krispies. How the crispies managed to still be so crispy even when sitting in the gelato is magical to me. The second flavor was a fior di panna, essentially a pure cream gelato. Perhaps it sounds simple, but when made with exceptionally delicious cream it is one of my favorite flavors, especially when paired with fruity sorbetti or strong chocolates. Finally, my third flavor was another special, Leonardo, a toasted pine nut unlike any other gelato I've ever had. For three essentially white gelatos, the variation of flavor was stunning, and the texture surpassed any of the countless other gelatos I had on the trip. Paired with the soft, slightly sweet bread, this was the mother of all ice cream sandwiches, and far less messy than I anticipated. J-Cat chose two very different gelatos. The first was Amarenata Croccante, which we chose blindly and happily discovered to be a local preserved sour cherry with the same crispy rice. This was paired perfectly with ciccolata e rhum, an amazing balance of liquor flavor in a pure, smooth, deep chocolate. I would return to Bologna just for that gelato.

Emilia-Romagna is known as the food capital of Italy, and though everywhere I've been in Italy is entirely obsessed with great food, there was a true level of mania in Bologna that I hadn't seen elsewhere. My tattoo was a big thing there, as if this mark of a similarly food-obsessed person automatically made me one of their own. Roberto and Agostino, our hosts at our incredible B&B (Antica Residenza D'Azeglio), were so excited to discover how food-focused we were that Agostino actually walked us to the restaurant that he recommended for dinner, insisting on introducing us to Stefano, the owner of the delightful Osteria al 15. This tiny, homey restaurant hidden on a quiet side street is apparently one of the few true osterias left, a small, casual, affordable place with a simple, concise menu that usually changes with the seasons and the days.

Seated in a cozy corner we watched the empty restaurant fill to the brim in the course of our meal. Which was intense. Intense and awesome. We started with a little treat of canellini crostata, so flavorful and comforting on an actually chilly night.

Next up, for our antipasti, we chose a Bolognese classic - crescentine e tighelle. Crescentine are these magical fried bread pillows that you eat with a wide variety of antipasti. The tighelle are dense, almost biscuit-like rounds of bread. The crescentine were of greater interest to me, so much so that I forgot we had pasta and a secondi on the way...

The breads were served with cheeses and meats, including ricotta all’ aceto balsamico caramellato, a slab of fresh ricotta with a sweet mixture of balsamic vinegar, honey, and caramel.

The meat plate (already half depleted when I took the picture) was a classic variety of prosciutto, mortadella, bresaola, sopressata, capicolla, and a delightful radicchio cup filled with a tangy fresh cheese that I never identified. Think cottage cheese if cottage cheese was irresistibly scrumptious.

Next came our primis, and I'll be honest, we were already kind of full at this point. The tighelle and crescentine and all of the meats and cheeses - there was a lot and it was so good that we did not bother to restrain ourselves. But pasta. You know that pasta is my primary reason for being. So I was going to make room and pray that our secondi would be small. Of course, my pasta was insanely rich. I had to get tortelloni in Bologna, and this was filled with creamy cheese, tossed with artichokes and slathered in a delicious cream sauce.

J-Cat also went classic with a tagliatelle al ragu. And actually, he had had that same dish earlier that day at the fantastic Trattoria Trebbi, but I failed to get photos of that. Very sad I didn't document that because he loved it so much he ordered the same thing twice in one day! The tagliatelle at Osteria al 15 was just enough different than the one at Trebbi, though, as every family and restaurant has their variation on such a homestyle dish.

Thankfully, our secondi was relatively small, though rich, and unfortunately I forgot what it is called. It was essentially a bowl of melted cheese, mostly fontina, but there was probably something else mixed it. Laid atop the sea of cheese were slices of prosciutto and a handful of arugula to cut the richness. Had I had any room left for bread it would have been ideal to scoop this up.

So yes, my Bologna post only includes some gelato and one meal, but that's because what would happen the next day would take us out to Modena on an epic food adventure that deserves a post of it's own. Stay tuned for part 4!

eating italy part 2: firenze

2011-10-20T15:37:00.001-04:00

After some truly exceptional meals in Rome, the question on our minds was: Could we possibly top that in Florence? We certainly intended to try. But before we get to the food, we should really do some more chatting about coffee.

J-Cat and I really love our coffee. It is serious business for us. We are picky about beans, we grind it fresh in our burr grinder every morning, we're all about the french press. But now we were in espresso country, which admittedly we're less knowledgeable about. Would this satisfy? The answer is that since we got home, J-Cat has been talking about espresso makers. So yes, it definitely satisfied. First stop in Florence: Chiarascuro for their Nocciolino, a delicious, lightly sweetened hazlenut-infused espresso drink. I HATE flavored coffee, but this is the exception I would be willing to make on a daily basis if I had the choice. Chiarascuro also features a nice spread of point-and-choose plates like pastas, salads, and antipasti for a light lunch or midday snack.

So back to the food. Steak. Florence is known for steak, specifically their giant T-bone steaks, which they serve quite rare and simply seasoned with just salt and pepper. Our first dinner was at Centro Poveri, a modern little osteria/pizzeria in Santa Maria Novella. I'd heard some solid things about their Bistecca Fiorentina, which was not only tasty, but a very fair price for a giant hunk of steak. It wasn't drop dead fantastic, in fact, we would have a far better steak a couple nights later (I'll get to that), but as a whole meal it more than satisfied. The Bistecca Menu was almost outrageously affordable for three courses plus wine, starting with a great salumi and cheese plate.

Followed by the enormous, well seasoned, but somewhat gristly steak. It was cooked perfectly, but the strip side of the bone was not as tender as it could be. The ribeye side was heavenly. It was served with a little side of sliced, roasted potatoes.

The meal rounded out with a perfect little coffee-flavored budino, which was actually one of the only proper desserts we ate in Italy. This is purely because we ate gelato every single day.

The next day, after climbing all the way up the Duomo, we rewarded ourselves with a visit to my favorite place in Florence, the Mercato Centrale. This is my wonderland of food. Next time I go to Florence I have to stay in an apartment with a kitchen, because the market is chock full of great ingredients. The stunning dried kiwi slices above, or the "polli nostrali" ("our own chickens") below, everything I saw made me itch to cook.

Cases of tripe and lampredotto.

Dozens of different nuts and dried fruits.

The highlight - not only of the market, or even Florence, but possibly of the whole trip - was this:

The bollito sandwich at Nerbone, a food stand at the back of the market where you have to aggressively fight your way onto the line to first pay, then order from the no-nonsense guy with the cleaver chopping up meat that he fishes out of a magical vat of broth. You're not going to successfully beat out the working guys who sidle up to the side of the meat man's counter and surreptitiously grab sandwiches, but if you go on the early side of the lunch rush there are enough lulls to shout out your order. Juicey boiled beef is sliced thin and piled onto a rosette roll, which you must order "bagnato", or bathed, so that he dunks the roll into the vat of meaty broth. Ask for "tutte le salse" and he'll slap on the fresh green chimichurri-like sauce, plus the spicy red pepper sauce. This is a sandwich that you continue to dream about for days and weeks after you eat it. This is the sandwich that we've tried to replicate twice since we've been home. We've actually come pretty close but there is still some untouchable magic about that meat man at Nerbone.

It could have been all downhill from there. I could have eaten the frozen lasagna out of this automat that we found in the Oltrarno.

But there was actually a lot more tastiness to be found, including a cool enoteca in Santa Croce called Baldovino.

Baldovino is a trattoria on one side of the alley and an enoteca on the other. Pretty good pizzas and pastas, I was happy to find this pappardelle with vegetables because as strong as my stomach is, eating meat at every meal for a week doesn't feel fantastic. I loved that the celery, carrot, and onion were sauteed just enough to lose their raw bite, but still maintain their refreshing crispness.

We sat on the enoteca side, where they have a very cool wine dispensing system that gives you the opportunity to sample a variety of wines instead of having to order a full bottle. You can put however much money you like on a wine card, then help yourself to half or full glasses of over 40 different varieties. We slept well that night.

The next day we found ourselves back at the Mercato Centrale. J-Cat plead his case to just go back in and get more bollito sandwiches, but I had to try Trattoria Mario. A cramped little hole in the wall behind the market, Mario is only open for lunch, and by 12:01 every seat in the place was full. The no-nonsense hostess/waitress points you to one of the long communal tables and gives you about 10 seconds to decide on what you want off of the handwritten menu on the wall. The pastas and soups change daily, the meats - such as bistecca fiorentina, vitello arrosto, and bollito misto - are pretty much always available. To the sounds of the grinning chefs in the long and skinny kitchen chop chop chopping up the meat, we chowed down on a maccheroni al ragu, the bollito misto, outrageously good french fries, and a magical green salad that consisted only of lettuce with a sprinkle of olive oil and vinegar, yet tasted like a work of art. The pasta was freaking amazing.

The bollito misto was quite good; although the brisket was a little drier than our bollito sandwiches from Nerbone, the tongue was incredibly tender and juicy. The salsa verde had a nice fresh bite. Mario is a must-eat for lunch in Florence.

Later that day, we allowed ourselves a very indulgent touristy moment and took a table outside at Rivoire, a beautiful and historical caffe and artisanal chocolatier on the Piazza della Signoria. It is one of those classic Italian caffes where you would be wise to stand at the bar to drink your coffee and save a ton of money, but perhaps it's worth the table fee to sit across from the Palazzo Vecchio and the copy of the David and relax for a while. We went for the sweets - J-Cat opted for a coffee granita with whipped cream, while I went with what Rivoire is really known for, the chocolate. The hot chocolate is only lightly sweet so you can really taste the cocoa, although of course you get sugar packets if you want to go crazy. I think we paid more for two drinks and some water than we did for the entire enormous lunch at Mario, but it really is some lovely atmosphere.

Okay back to the meat again, this time at all' Antico Ristoro Di' Cambi in the Oltrarno, where the only thing any diner is eating is the Bistecca Fiorentina, because it's THAT GOOD. But let's not get ahead of ourselves, let's first talk about how I managed to have a brain fart and think I was ordering fennel (finocchia) and artichokes for an appetizer, but I had misread the menu and it actually said fennel sausage (finocchiona). And not that I don't love fennel sausage, but we were about to eat a giant steak and I didn't really need a meat appetizer to warm up for it. We ate the whole thing, though.

But the steak was really the star of the show, and this was truly a star. This steak was perfection - cooked perfectly rare, but not raw-tasting, seasoned just the right amount, butter tender from beginning to end, and a profoundly beefy flavor - it is everything you want when you commit to a giant steak at a restaurant. This, to me, was Florence, and the perfect way to wrap up our stay.

Next up, if you thought Rome and Florence were food destinations, you've never been to Emilia-Romagna.

eating italy part 1: roma

2011-10-17T12:12:00.000-04:00

This was our version of a pilgrimage. Our long belated honeymoon came almost exactly one year after we actually got married, and it was well worth the wait. This is my favorite country, my favorite food, and is now my favorite trip ever. J-Cat had never been to Italy and I had a feeling he would love it as much as I do. I was right.

First stop: Rome. I'll spare you the gazillion photos of the Vatican and the Colosseum and the Pantheon and the fifty thousand beautiful fountains. I know we've all seen that before. And in any case, the most important sights were the foods. Within a couple of hours of stepping off the plane, we were already eating what would probably be my favorite plate of pasta of the whole trip, the Spaghetti Carbonara at Ristorante Roscioli near Campo de Fiori. An offshoot of their famously fantastic bakery Antico Forno Roscioli, this salumeria/vineria/trattoria was just a couple blocks from our hotel and getting a lot of talk amongst the Roman food community for their impeccable versions of simple Roman classics made with meticulously sourced ingredients. We lucked out by arriving on the late side for lunch when there was no wait for one of the tiny tables tucked in the back of the little salumi shop, surrounded by walls of wine bottles. The carbonara was absolute perfection - rich, smooth, incredibly flavorful, with homemade spaghetti and crisp chunks of guanciale. This was the best carbonara I've ever had and I do not say that lightly seeing as how I worship Michael White and still dream about his carbonara from the sadly departed Convivio.

J-Cat chose another Roman classic, Cacio e Pepe. Like the carbonara, the homemade spaghetti was cooked to perfection and it was bursting with flavor, though we did find the intense amount of additional pecorino on top made it a touch saltier than it should be. I missed getting pictures of our antipasti (sooo hungry right off the plane) but we got a simple plate of salumi and cheese. The salumi was all unbelievable, not surprising since that is the specialty of the shop. The cheese was mostly good, but I must admit we were faced with one hunk of particularly stinky cheese which did us in. Now, both J-Cat and I love our cheese and it takes a lot to best us in the stinky/funky category, so that should be an indication that whatever this cheese was, it was supremely stinky and funky. I should have asked what it was called, but I was still in a plane daze and my limited Italian skills were not cooperating just yet.

Despite the funk, this was an unbelievable meal, and a perfect way to start our trip. Next time we are in Rome, Roscioli will be a must eat.

I of course managed to forget to take pictures of many of our meals, because I was usually too distracted by the food to stop and pull out my camera. So here's what I missed: Gelato. I was terrible about taking photos of gelato. Probably because it was hot out and I wanted to eat it before it melted. Day one was easily the best gelato I had in Rome, at Il Gelato di San Crispino near the Trevi Fountain. Known for supremely natural gelato, the owners use no unnatural flavorings or short cuts, from the fresh fruits to the excellent nut flavors. I started my daily gelato treats with my favorite - pistachio, matched with a fior di latte. The afternoon also included the best coffee we would have in Rome at Caffe Sant' Eustachio near Piazza Navona.

For our first dinner, we were not particularly hungry because we were still so satisfied from our pasta lunch at Roscioli. We decided to seek out something light and less carby, so we wandered over to the old Jewish Ghetto neighborhood and took a table at La Taverna del Ghetto. And we did indeed not eat any pasta or other intense carbs, however, light would not describe our meal. Taverna del Ghetto is known for the their fried appetizers, especially the classic Carciofi alla Guidia. The deep fried artichoke is crispy and delicate, not as greasy as you might think. We also tried a battered and fried fish, perfectly fried. The highlight, though, was the fried stuffed zucchini blossom. Because Taverna del Ghetto is Kosher they do not serve dairy on their meat-focused menu, so rather than the classic ricotta stuffing, the zucchini blossom was stuffed with a delicate finger of fish. I don't know what kind of fish it was, but it was very mild and creamy. It so perfectly stood in for cheese that I was confused when I first bit into it.

I also missed taking photos at our dinner the following night, at Da Olindo in Trastevere. A small family-run Osteria tucked on a quiet street away from the racous Friday night Trastevere crowds, we had a simple, delicious meal of antipasti and pasta. My Cacio e Pepe and J-Cat's Bucatini all' Amatriciana were both solid versions, especially considering they were just a few euro per dish. The mixed vegetable antipasti were the highlight of the meal, though, particularly a dish of marinated canellini beans that I could have eaten a huge bowl of and called it a night.

Day three was our Ancient Rome day, so we started it off early at the Colosseum, then the Forum and Palatine Hill. Then we thought our feet would fall off, so thankfully we only had a short walk to Bar Benito, a small, no-frills luncheonette. They serve lunch in the style of a Tavola Calda, or hot table. A small menu that rotates through the week, I took my chances on the Pasta del Giorno having no idea what it would be. I was rewarded with a truly delicious plate of Amatriciana (above), done with rigatoni instead of the classic bucatini. This plate was all of 5 Euro and it was a perfect lunch. Despite calling it a Tavola Calda, the pasta was clearly cooked to order and not kept hot or rewarmed. J-Cat tried a plate of sausage with spicy cabbage, which seemed Germanic in inspiration and was a nice, tasty surprise. In all, we didn't even spend 15 Euro on a really great meal.

And finally, our last night in Rome. We saved our last night for the restaurant that David Downie, author of "Food, Wine, Rome", calls the one trattoria in Rome that you must go to, Da Gino. We loved this place. We arrived promptly at 8PM for our reservation, early by Italian standards but not for Gino, because it was packed to the gills - with Italians - by 7:57. This tiny, bustling trattoria sits on a little alleyway across from the Parliament building, with walls painted with what you might call "cheesy" Italian countryside murals, tables squeezed in NYC-style, convivial waiters who spoke not a word of English but who managed to tease us when we hit both a food and wine wall late in the meal. This was an entirely enjoyable dinner.

J-Cat, craving some spice, went with a Penne all' Arrabiata (above), while I decided on the house specialty Tonarelli alla Ciociara (below). This pasta dish - featuring homemade tonarelli, guanciale, fresh peas, and mushrooms - is said to have been invented at Gino and has become so popular that it is not uncommon to find it on menus at other restaurants. It is fast becoming another Roman classic, for very good reason.

By the time we got to the secondi, the Osso Bucco, I was fading fast. To be fair, we had also had an antipasto plate, quite a bit of wine, and I ate every bite of that pasta dish. Our waiter mimed to me that I had to eat more meat. I did my best.

In the end, Rome was perfection from beginning to end. We saw all the important sights, and aside from a quick snack of "pizza" at the Vatican Museum cafe (we had 20 minutes until the Scavi tour and hadn't eaten in hours, give us a break!), everything we ate was truly fantastic. Could we top this portion of the trip when we moved on to Florence? Well, we were definitely up for it.

hurricane muffins

2011-09-09T10:51:00.000-04:00

I bought some water. I filled up the bathtub. I made sure the flashlights had batteries. And I baked some muffins.

I figured that Hurricane Irene would, at the least, bring some power outages or knock out cable and internet. To my surprise, none of that happened. I didn't imagine any dire circumstances, but I did imagine that we could be caught in a situation where we were stuck at home for a couple days with nothing to do but watch the cats sleep. So, foremost in my mind was making sure that we had plenty of junk food to tide us over.

It does seem that the prevailing food theme of Hurricane Weekend was comfort food. As the rain started rolling in and we were hit with a massive craving for Doritos, J-Cat volunteered to head out in the rain to get a bag, but did not anticipate that he would have to hit 4 different bodegas to find them, and then only in snack size bags. Whoever wanted Doritos next would find none within a 5 block radius of our place. (And I actually have confirmation that a friend in the neighborhood was forced to settle for Bravos, the horror! Sorry, Tom.)

Having secured our crunchy snacks, we were now fully equipped for the weekend - a massive pot of pasta and bolognese, a rice cooker full of rice, a bunch of hard boiled eggs, and these Chocolate Chip Muffins. Recipe after the jump:

CHOCOLATE CHIP MUFFINS

1/2 cup unsalted butter, melted and cooled
2 large eggs
1 cup half and half (or whole milk)
1 1/2 teaspoons pure vanilla extract
2 cups all-purpose flour
2/3 cups granulated white sugar
1 tablespoon baking powder
1/2 teaspoon salt
1 cup semisweet chocolate chips

Preheat oven to 375 degrees. Line a standard 12-cup muffin pan with paper liners, or grease the cups.

In a large mixing bowl, whisk together the eggs, half and half, and vanilla extract. In a another large bowl, whisk together the dry ingredients, then stir in the chocolate chips. Fold the wet ingredients and the butter into the dry ingredients, mixing just enough to combine. Do not overmix or you will have tough muffins.

Use an ice cream scoop to fill the muffins cups evenly. Bake in the preheated oven for 18-20 minutes, until a toothpick inserted in the center of a muffin comes out clean. Remove the pan to a wire rack to cool for 5 minutes, then remove the muffins from the tin and allow to cool further on the rack.

bibimbap

2011-08-26T12:05:00.000-04:00

There is only one Korean restaurant in our neighborhood. It's okay, not great, and they charge $13 for bibimbap. $13! For a bowl of rice and veggies and a fried egg. Some of my Korean friends have told me that ordering bibimbap at a restaurant is silly anyway, because it's such a homestyle dish. I guess it's like going to a restaurant known for great seafood and ordering a boring roast chicken.

So I figured now is as good a time as any to make some homemade bibimbap, when there are lots of good veggies to choose from. Of course, the types of veggies in this dish vary from place to place and home to home, but I went fairly traditional and stuck to carrots, zucchini, spinach, napa cabbage, mung bean sprouts, and shiitake mushrooms. I went through the trouble of prepping each ingredient separately so as to get that classic picture of every vegetable in its own little quadrant, but being as how you just mix it all up before you eat, it seems fairly unnecessary if you have no one to impress. Recipe after the jump:

VEGETABLE BIBIMBAP
Serves 4

4 cups cooked short grain Asian rice
1 medium zucchini, julienned
2 medium carrots, julienned
1 cup mung bean sprouts
1 lb baby spinach
2 cups napa cabbage, chopped into thin strips
4 large shiitake mushroom, sliced thinly (if dried, rehydrate with hot water. If fresh saute for a couple minutes with a touch of sesame oil)
4 teaspoons dark toasted sesame oil, divided
1 tbsp white sesame seeds
4 eggs, fried sunny side up
salt, to taste
1/4 cup gochujang (Korean hot pepper paste), or to taste, served on the side

Bring a small pot of water to boil. Blanch the carrots for one minute and remove with a strainer. Do the same with the zucchini, then the mung bean sprouts. Set all aside while you prep the rest of the vegetables.

In a medium skillet, heat 2 tsps of the sesame oil over medium heat. Be careful not to overheat or it will smoke. Add the spinach leaves, a pinch of salt, and saute until wilted. Sprinkle with sesame seeds and set aside. Do the same with the napa cabbage, which will probably take a minute or two longer than the spinach. If you are working with fresh shiitakes, also saute them for a minute or two in the oil.

In a large bowl, fill the bottom with rice, then top with the vegetables, keeping each in their own section if you desire. Top with a fried egg and serve with gochujang on the side and a big spoon.

great grains

2011-08-18T10:53:00.000-04:00

I love big filling salads on a summer night, based around some good old starch. Pasta or grains, please. And with grains, there are endless choices. I do lots of salads with quinoa, wheat berries, different rices, freekeh, farro, bulgur, spelt; the list goes on and on. This week, it was barley, a grain I usually only use in soups, but has a wonderfully nutty flavor and satisfying bite when cooked and cooled.

The great thing about having a variety of grains in your pantry is how easy it makes improvising a meal after you've raided the farmer's market for the freshest veg you can find. There's always a base to work off of, they keep for ages, and they keep things interesting. Recipe for my barley, heirloom tomato, arugula, zucchini, mozzarella salad after the jump:

SUMMER BARLEY SALAD

1 cup whole grain barley
1 lb heirloom cherry tomatoes, quartered
1 medium zuchinni, quartered lengthwise and sliced thinly
3 or 4 big handfuls of baby arugula
1/4 cup flat-leaf parsley, chopped
1/2 lb fresh salted mozzarella cheese, cut into small cubes
salt and pepper, to taste

For the dressing:
juice of 1 lemon
1/4 cup extra virgin olive oil
salt and pepper, to taste

Bring 2 cups of water to a boil in a medium saucepot. Add the barley, bring down heat to a simmer, cover, and cook for 35-40 minutes until tender. (You can also soak your barley overnight, which cuts the cooking time down to about 15 minutes. You need less water to cook if you soaked it). Fluff the barley with a fork and set aside to cool well. You can cook the barley well ahead of time and cool it in the fridge so that it's ready for the salad any time.

In a large bowl, toss the cooled barley with all of the vegetables. Whisk together the dressing ingredients and dress to taste, adding more salt and pepper if needed. Top with the cubed mozzarella.

variations on a theme: apricot and almond crostata

2011-08-10T11:43:00.000-04:00

It takes about an hour to bake a full-on pie, and with the summer we've been battling in the northeast, keeping the oven on for an hour is not advisable. But I really can't go very long without pie. Especially when it's high season for so many delectable fruits. The answer? A crostata. A rustic, free-form tart that bakes in half the time and totally satisfies the pie craving. A simple pate brisee crust, fresh fruit, a touch of sugar, and whatever complementary flavor you're in the mood for.

This time, the apricots at the farmer's market were both adorable and ripe, and I had a bag of sliced almonds that I wanted to use. I always end up pairing fruit with nuts nowadays, because I pretty much want some kind of crunch in everything I eat. Or, as Beth might tell you, because I love nuts. Recipe after the jump:

APRICOT AND ALMOND CROSTATA

For the pate brisee:
1 1/4 cups all purpose flour
1/2 teaspoon salt
1 tablespoon granulated sugar
1/2 cup (1 stick) (unsalted butter, chilled, and cut into 1 inch pieces
3-5 tablespoons ice water

For the filling
1 1/4 pounds fresh apricots
1/3 cup white sugar
1 teaspoon almond extract
pinch salt

Make the crust: Combine the flour, salt, and sugar in a food processor and pulse a few times to mix well. Add the cold cubed butter and pulse until mixture resembles a coarse meal. Add the ice water one tablespoon at a time, pulsing between spoons, only using as much as it takes to get the dough to come together. Turn the dough out onto plastic wrap, flatten into a disk, and refrigerate for at least 1 hour. When it is fully chilled, preheat your oven to 400 degrees.

Make the filling: Split the apricots along the seam and remove the pits. Slice each half into 2 or 4 pieces, depending on how large your apricots are. Combine in a bowl the the sugar, salt, and almond extract and toss to coat. Set aside while you roll out your dough.

Roll your dough into a 13-inch circle and transfer onto a sheet pan. Place the apricot slices in a decorative circular pattern from the center radiating to the edges, leaving at least 1 inch of uncovered crust. Sprinkle with the almond slices. Fold the edges of the crust over the fruit. Bake in the preheated oven for 35-40 minutes until the crust is golden brown and the fruit juices are bubbling. Serve warm with whipped cream or vanilla ice cream.

not that i don't love pie: strawberry rhubarb cobbler

2011-06-24T16:27:00.003-04:00

Sometimes I just don't have the time to make a pie crust. I'm a busy lady, and sometimes the craving for strawberry-rhubarb something or other hits at 6PM. I think that's why cobblers and crisps were invented.

I also like any excuse to eat a biscuit. This cobbler really does look like cobblestones, just like the cobblestones paving the streets of Rome. Where we'll be (finally) honeymooning this September! Woohoo!

Oh, and sorry this is essentially out of season already. To tell you the truth, I baked this back in May and uh...I've been busy. Recipe after the jump:

STRAWBERRY RHUBARB COBBLER

Fruit layer
4 1/2 cups rhubarb stalks trimmed of stringy layer and cut into 1-inch pieces
1 1/2 cups strawberries, stemmed and sliced
1/2 cup white sugar
2 Tablespoons of quick cooking tapioca
1 teaspoon of grated orange peel

Cobbler crust
2 Tbsp white sugar
1 cup all purpose flour
1 1/2 teaspoon baking powder
1/4 teaspoon salt
1/4 cup unsalted butter, cut into small cubes
1/4 cup milk
1 egg

Preheat oven to 350 degrees. In a medium bowl, mix together all of the fruit filling ingredients and let sit while you prepare the cobbler batter.

In another bowl, combine the sugar, flour, baking powder and salt. Cut the butter in with a fork or pastry cutter. Whisk together the milk and egg and slowly add to the batter, mixing just until moistened.

Pour the fruit mixture into a 2-quart casserole dish. Use a large spoon to drop the cobbler batter on top, you can make 4 large cobbles or 6 smaller cobbles, depending on the shape of your dish. Bake in the preheated oven for 35 minute or until the cobbles are golden brown and the fruit is bubbly.

r is for ramps

2011-05-09T18:18:00.000-04:00

Ramps have become code for "foodie". Perhaps not in the most flattering way. If someone asks me what I'm making for dinner and it happens to contain ramps, I get one of two reactions:

1. What the hell is a ramp?
2. You're such a f*&%ing foodie.

Why?

It's still not so easy to find ramps, you generally have to trek to a farmer's market or specialty produce store, but seriously I saw some in the Key Foods recently and that place is full-on ghetto. They are only in season for a couple of weeks, but I don't know if that's reason enough to find them snobbish.

Because, after all, what's not to like? Slightly oniony and a bit garlicky, those are two of the bestest flavors on the planet. To me, ramps are a sign that spring has really arrived, along with fresh peas, good strawberries and rhubarb. So last night's dinner was a simple pesto of peas, ramps, and lemon, followed by a strawberry-rhubarb cobbler. Call me a foodie, I don't care, at least my life is always delicious.

PASTA WITH RAMP AND PEA PESTO

1 1/2 cups fresh shelled English peas
1/2 pound wild ramps (about 6-7 medium-sized ramps), trimmed at the root end
zest of 1 lemon
1 large garlic clove, peeled and smashed
1/4 cup pine nuts
1/2 cup extra virgin olive oil
3/4 cup grated parmiggiano-reggiano cheese
1 tsp kosher salt, to taste
1 lb fettucine or other long flat pasta

Bring a large pot of water to boil. Blanch the peas for 3 minutes, then remove from the water with a skimmer to a bowl of cold water. Add the ramps to the boiling water and blanch for two minutes, also removing with a skimmer and setting aside. Add a handful of kosher salt to the water and bring back to a full rolling boil before adding the pasta, cooking as directed on the package or until al dente.

While the pasta is cooking, drain the peas and add 1 cup to the bowl of a food processor, reserving the remainder. Coarsely chop the blanched ramps and add to the food processor with the pine nuts, garlic, and lemon zest. Turn on the processor and begin to slowly drizzle half of the olive oil through the lid opening until a paste forms. Scrape down the sides of the bowl, add the salt and cheese and begin to process again. Continue drizzling the remaining oil until a shiny paste forms, you may not need all of the oil to reach your desired consistency.

When the pasta is done cooking, drain well, reserving about 1 cup of the pasta cooking water. In a large bowl, toss the hot pasta with the pesto, adding enough cooking water to loosen the paste. You want the pesto to coat the pasta well without being too thick and clumpy. Add in the reserved peas and toss. Serve with additional grated cheese and a drizzle of olive oil.

NOTE: This recipe makes more than enough for a pound of pasta, so store leftovers in an airtight container in the fridge, with a layer of olive oil on the surface to preserve the green color. It is excellent spread on crostini with some fresh ricotta cheese.

j-cat's balls

2011-04-20T21:06:00.001-04:00

Wow, you have a dirty mind, I was just talking about matzo balls. I made the soup, J-Cat made the balls, we ended up eating it on Sunday instead of waiting until Passover actually began because I wound up sick. Good timing.

The key to great chicken soup is a great chicken stock, and there's really nothing to it. I had roasted a chicken earlier in the week, so the carcass made the stock, and stock made from a previously roasted chicken just always seems to have a deeper flavor than one made of a boiled whole chicken. If you plan ahead, I also recommend making the stock a day ahead, straining and refrigerating, then skimming off the fat that rises to the top the next morning. Use this fat to make the matzo balls and you will discover a whole new world of amazing balls. Recipe after the jump:

CHICKEN AND MATZO BALL SOUP

For the chicken stock:
1 small whole chicken, 3-3.5 pounds, or the leftover carcass and meat of a larger roasted chicken (I had the carcass and about half the meat of a 4.5 lb chicken)
2 medium carrots, cut in large chunks
2 celery stalks, cut in large chunks
1 medium onion, peeled and halved
10 black pepper corns

Place the chicken in a large stockpot and cover with cold water. If using a previously roasted chicken, remove majority of the cooked meat and set aside to add to the completed soup, adding just the carcass to the pot. Set heat on high and bring to a boil. Lower to a simmer, add the remaining ingredients, and cover. If using a raw chicken, cook 45 minutes until the meat is cooked and easily comes off the bone. Remove the chicken, pull off majority of the meat and set aside to add to the completed soup. Return the carcass to the pot and continue to simmer for another hour. Strain the stock and discard the solids. At this stage you can let the stock cool completely, then refrigerate for later use. When the stock is fully cold, skim off the fat and use in the matzo balls.

For the matzo balls:
3 eggs
2 tbsp chicken fat
1/2 cup water
1 cup matzo meal
1/2 tsp baking powder
salt and pepper to taste

Bring the chicken stock to a boil in a large stockpot. Mix the eggs, fat, and water together. Add the matzo meal, baking powder, salt and pepper, and mix well. Let stand for 10 minutes. Form small balls with your hands (easiest if they're wet) and drop into the boiling stock. Reduce heat to a simmer, cover pot, and cook for 30 minutes.

For the soup:
2 medium carrots, cut into rounds
2 stalks celery, sliced
1 medium onion, diced
1/4 cup fresh dill, chopped
leftover cooked chicken, shredded into bite-sized pieces
salt and freshly ground pepper, to taste

About 10 minutes into cooking the matzo balls, add the carrots, celery, and onion and continue cooking. About 5 minutes before the matzo balls are ready, add the chicken, fresh dill, and salt and pepper.

insisting on spring

2011-04-07T15:19:00.003-04:00

Weather, what a tease. We had the briefest glimpse of warmth and sun, followed by a plunge back into the depths of a winter than just won't end. Did you know that one year ago today it broke 90 degrees in NYC? Yeah.

Anyway, enough with the winter, I refuse to acknowledge its death grip on the city. I will eat spring foods and I will not wear my winter coat or boots. I will make risotto with fresh peas and leeks and bright happy lemon, and that's that. Recipe after the jump:

RISOTTO WITH PEAS AND LEEKS

1 tbsp unsalted butter
1 tbsp olive oil
1 medium leek, white and light green parts only, thoroughly washed and sliced into half-rings
1 1/2 cups arborio rice
1 cup dry white wine
6 cups vegetable or chicken stock
2 cups fresh shelled peas
zest of one lemon
1 cup freshly grated parmiggiano-reggiano
salt and pepper, to taste
chopped fresh mint, optional

Heat the stock in a small saucepot and keep at a low simmer at a burner adjacent to where you will cook the risotto.

Heat the butter and olive oil in a large heavy skillet or saucepan over medium heat. Add the leek and saute until softened, about 2-3 minutes. Add the dry rice and saute to coat the grains with the fat. Add the wine and stir until fully absorbed. Add 1 cup of the hot stock and stir until absorbed. Continue adding the stock 1 ladleful at a time, stirring continuously until absorbed before adding the next ladle.

When the rice is almost al dente, about 30 minutes, add the peas. Continue to cook until peas are tender, about 5 minutes. Take off the heat, add the lemon zest and cheese and stir to incorporate. Test for seasoning and add salt and pepper to taste. Serve warm topped with chopped mint.

it's not burned

2011-04-01T17:46:00.001-04:00

It's balsamic. Four ingredients, 20 minutes, really tasty. I use chicken thighs because they are better. Really, they are tastier. Chicken breasts are boring. If you MUST use breasts, at least get bone-in skin on. And yes, in this case, eat the skin, otherwise it will not taste like the sauce. Skin is delicious, and after a couple minutes under the broiler this skin gets delightfully crispy and sticky from the balsamic. This cannot be easier nor tastier. One tip: when the balsamic is on the stove simmering away and reducing down, don't stick your face right over the pot. Recipe after the jump:

BALSAMIC GLAZED CHICKEN THIGHS

1 cup balsamic vinegar
3 cloves garlic, peeled and lightly smashed
1 tbsp chopped fresh rosemary
4 skin-on, bone-in chicken thighs (about 1 1/4 pound)
salt and pepper to taste

Preheat oven to 450. Combine the vinegar and garlic in a small saucepot and set over medium high heat. Bring to a light boil and allow to bubble until reduced to about 1/3 cup, about 10 minutes. Stir in the rosemary and set aside.

While the balsamic is reducing, set a heavy, oven-proof skillet over medium high heat. Season the chicken with salt and pepper. Place the chicken in the hot skillet skin side down and sear until browned, 3-5 minutes. Remove the chicken, pour off excess fat, then return the chicken skin side up. Place the skillet in the preheated oven for 10-15 minutes until cooked through.

Remove skillet from oven. Turn the oven to broil. Brush the chicken thighs with the balsamic, then set under the broiler until bubbly, about 2-3 minutes.

purim for the aged

2011-03-24T11:01:00.003-04:00

I only made one kind of hamantaschen this year - prune. It's not because prune is my favorite filling, although I do really love it. The sad truth is that I thought it might be a wise choice to counteract the "bagel jam", as J-Cat calls it. Bagel Jam is the digestive situation that arises when you buy a dozen bagels and only two people live in your house, so rather than actually cooking a meal you just keep eating bagels all weekend. I don't think I need to elaborate.

I'm happy to report that it seems my prune theory may have legs. I made the hamantaschen on Sunday evening - after about 18 hours of bagels - and by Monday morning I no longer felt like I was going to splode. You know you have entered middle age when you start planning your desserts around your digestive system. All foods must serve a double duty. It's a sad state of affairs. Recipe after the jump:

PRUNE (LEKVAR) HAMANTASCHEN

For the dough:
(From the recipe by Shmil Holland, NY Times, March 15, 2011)
1 cup confectioners’ sugar
2 large egg yolks
8 ounces unsalted butter at room temperature, in small pieces
Grated zest of 1 lemon
2 1/4 cups all-purpose unbleached flour
Dash of salt
1 large egg, beaten, for the glaze

Put the confectioners’ sugar and the egg yolks in a food processor and blend. Add butter and lemon zest and process to blend. Gradually add the flour and the salt, pulsing until it forms a ball. Cover with plastic wrap and refrigerate for at least an hour, or overnight. Meanwhile, prepare the filling.

For the prune filling:
(From no particular recipe)
2 cups pitted prunes
1/2 cup orange juice
juice and zest of 1 lemon
1/2 cup sugar
1 tsp vanilla extract
1/2 teaspoon cinnamon
1/4 tsp ground cloves

Combine all filling ingredients in a small pot over medium heat. Bring to a low boil then lower heat to a simmer. Cover and allow to simmer until the prunes are very soft, about 30 minutes. Remove it from the heat and allow to cool to room temperature. Use an immersion blender or food processor to blend the ingredients into a smooth paste.

Assemble the cookies:
Preheat the oven to 350 degrees. Line two cookie sheets with parchment. Roll out the dough to 1/4-inch thickness and use a biscuit cutter or glass to cut 3-inch circles. Put a heaping teaspoon of the filling in the center of each, and press up the sides to form triangles. Brush the tops with beaten egg.

Bake until golden and dough is delicately firm all the way through, about 15 minutes. If trays are on different racks, switch them after about 10 minutes.

keeeesh

2011-03-13T21:36:00.002-04:00

Where have I been?! It's been a crazy month. Exciting and stressful and rather tiring. And I haven't been doing much cooking. But it was definitely time to get back in the kitchen, and what better way than cooking some Sunday brunch for mom and brother #2 and sissy and my new baby niece who can't actually eat food yet but should be very familiar with the smells of sauteed leeks by the time she can.

Brunch is a meal that I admit I have not made much of in my life. This is because I am not generally the type of person who wants to wake up in the morning and...do anything. Especially on the weekend. From Monday through Friday my alarm goes off and I roll over and hit snooze and groan and snuggle my Opaw closer and scratch behind her ears while she purrs. I curse the moment the alarm goes off again and I actually have to get up. And I promise my kitty that come Saturday I will stay in bed and scratch her ears for much much longer.

But this morning I had thoughts of leeks and goat cheese in a rich, smooth quiche. And despite the fact that we lost an hour on this damned Sunday morning, I dragged my ass up and made some pie crust, and got everything else prepped while it chilled. It was extremely worth it. WORTH IT. Best. Quiche. Ever. Recipe after the jump:

LEEK & GOAT CHEESE QUICHE

2 medium leeks, white part only, washed thoroughly and thinly sliced
2 tablespoons unsalted butter
2 large eggs
2 large egg yolks
1 1/2 cups half & half
1 teaspoon kosher salt
1/2 teaspoon freshly ground pepper
1 pinch freshly grated nutmeg
4 ounces goat cheese, crumbled
2 tablespoons chives, snipped
1 par-baked pie crust (recipe follows)

Preheat oven to 375 degrees. In a medium saute pan, melt butter and saute leeks over medium heat until softened, about 10 minutes. While the leeks are cooking, combine the remaining filling ingredients, minus the goat cheese. When the pie crust is par-baked until light golden brown, remove from the oven and spread the leeks in the bottom of the crust. Crumble the goat cheese over the leeks. Sprinkle the chives over the cheese. Place the crust on the center rack of the heated oven. Carefully pour the egg mixture into the shell. Bake the quiche for 30-35 minutes until the top is light brown and a knife inserted one inch from the edge comes out clean. The center should be just set but still slightly jiggly.

PERFECT PIE CRUST
Makes crust for 9-inch single crust pie.

1 1/4 all purpose flour
1/2 teaspoon kosher salt
6 tablespoons cold unsalted butter, cut into small dice
4 tablespoons cold leaf lard, cut into small pieces
2-5 tablespoons ice water

In a food processor, briefly pulse together the flour and salt. Add butter and pulse until mixture forms chickpea-size pieces (3 to 5 one-second pulses). Add ice water 1 tablespoon at a time, and pulse until mixture is just moist enough to hold together.

Form dough into a ball, wrap with plastic and flatten into a disk. Refrigerate at least 1 hour before rolling out and baking.

To par-bake, lightly spray one side of foil with cooking spray and line the crust with the foil. Fill with pie weights, dry beans or rice to weigh it down. Bake in a 375 degree oven for 10 minutes until lightly brown on the edges.

it's bananas. b.a.n.a.n.a.s

2011-01-31T10:48:00.000-05:00

The last few times we've bought bananas they have ripened so quickly we couldn't keep up with them. At one point we actually talked about buying one of those super dorky banana hangers. I don't know if I could do it, it seems so lame.

Worse things can happen than ending up with a bunch of overripe bananas and being forced to throw together an impromptu banana nut bread. With this bread, which I baked late last night after a day of more meals than were truly necessary, I felt the need to be a little healthier. I decided to try out that applesauce trick to cut down on the butter in the recipe. After all, I have a ton of homemade applesauce that I keep making whenever we have a big snowstorm and I'm bored at home, which lately has been every 4 days or something. I also used only egg whites, and a mixture of whole wheat and white flours. Now I've never done this "low-fat" baking thing and I was expecting a result like those weird chewy almost plastic feeling fat free bran muffins I've had in the past, but to my surprise, I couldn't tell at all. AT ALL! It tasted exactly the same as any other banana bread I've ever made. Of course, I did still use some butter, I'm not insane, so this is by no means fat free (there's also those walnuts), but I figure a couple of small concessions is good in the long run and even better is not even noticing those concessions at all. Recipe after the jump:

LOWISH-FAT BANANA NUT BREAD

6 ripe medium bananas, mashed
1/2 cup unsweetened apple sauce
1 1/2 cups whole wheat flour
1 cup unbleached all purpose flour
1 1/2 tsp baking soda
1/2 tsp salt
4 tbsp unsalted butter, softened
3/4 cup raw cane sugar, or light brown sugar
4 large egg whites
1 tsp vanilla extract
1 cup chopped walnuts
baking spray

Preheat oven to 325°. Grease 9x5 inch loaf pans with baking spray.

In a medium bowl, whisk together flour, baking soda and salt. Set aside.

In a large bowl cream butter and sugar with an electric mixer. Add egg whites, bananas, apple sauce and vanilla, and beat at medium speed until thick. Scrape down sides of the bowl.

Add flour mixture and then blend at low speed until combined. Do not over mix. Gently fold in the chopped walnuts.

Pour batter into loaf pan and bake on the center rack for 60-70 minutes, or until a toothpick inserted in the center comes out clean.

Let bread cool in the pan for 5 minutes, then invert and remove bread to finish cooling on a wire rack. Allow the bread to cool at least 20 minutes before slicing.

this is not a recipe

2011-01-25T17:02:00.000-05:00

The nerve of me, going weeks without posting, then finally returning with this non-recipe of a recipe, this epitome of culinary laziness. And one that seems dreadfully off season considering the frigid weather we have been doomed with of late.

But, you see, I am so seduced by these types of recipes, these classics of American kitchen convenience. Growing up with two immigrant parents who raised us on a predominantly Chinese diet, these foods are the exotic, the unknown, and are the joy to discover as I've grown up and moved away from that home. It was not until just a couple of years ago that I had ever even heard of monkey bread, or tater tot casserole, or chess pie. I remember the revelation of rhubarb when I first tasted a pie sent to my friend by his mother while we were at camp in Michigan. Even those American classics that my parents attempted to adopt into our menu - meatloaf, spaghetti, burgers - were always tweaked with Asian flavors. Not to say the tweaks weren't great, they invariably were. I grew up loving my mother's meatloaf, and have always been deeply disappointed with any truly American meatloaf I've come across. The first time I tasted broccoli cooked by a friend's mother, I understood why most children hated what had always been my favorite vegetable. But these American classics have always appealed to me, and especially those that came into being during the push towards convenience food.

The ice box cake is a double whammy of an American classic. Just the name alone, "ice box cake", has the quaintness of the past. How far back into our history do you have to go to find people who called it an ice box? Though the real origin of ice box cake dates back at least to the 1930's, the cake that most Americans know and love is a 1950's revival of the classic. My first introduction to the ice box cake was as recently as a year or two ago and was the version popularized by Nabisco, on their packages of chocolate wafers. I've never even tasted a Nabisco chocolate wafer, apparently they are not so easy to find in stores these days, but I understand they taste like a thin oreo without the cream. The cake is no-bake, perfect for hot summer weather, and I was stunned when I learned how simple it was to make. Make up a bunch of whipped cream, maybe sweeten it a touch and a dash of vanilla. Make layers of chocolate wafers and alternate with whipped cream. Stick it in the fridge for a few hours. Voila. Cake.

If you think about it for a moment, you realize that it is silly and lazy, but genius all the same. How could it not be good? My favorite cakes are iced with whipped cream anyway. The cream softens the wafers until they are basically the texture of cake. And the best part, what I consider the ultimate 1950's coup of convenience recipes, is when you slice the cake and reveal fantastic zebra stripes, that look so much fancier than it has any right to look.

And the bittersweet side of the story this time is that I never did find Nabisco wafers, and instead used the Swedish Anna cookies, which come in such a great variety of flavors that I look forward to making plenty of ice box cakes come summer. Why is not finding Nabisco wafers bittersweet? Well, because for the past four years, I've worked at the Chelsea Market, the building that once housed the original National Biscuit Company factory, Nabisco. And as I walked out of the factory for the last time on Friday, bidding farewell to a hugely significant chapter of my life and anxious about a new adventure, a new step, and new world at my doorstep, I wondered how many of those blasted wafers were made within those walls back in the day and how ridiculous it is that I can't find them in any store in NYC.

Non-recipe after the jump:

CHOCOLATE ICE BOX CAKE

4 cups heavy whipping cream
4 tbsp confectioners sugar
1 tsp pure vanilla extract
2 9-ounce boxes of Nabisco chocolate wafers, or 3 5.25-ounce boxes of Anna chocolate wafer cookies

Whip the whipped cream, sugar and vanilla extract to soft peaks. On a large serving plate, lay down 7 wafer cookies in a circle, placing an 8th in the middle. Spread the cookies with 3/4 cup of the whipped cream. Repeat the layers of cookies and whipped cream until the cake is as tall as you like. Finish with a layer of whipped cream. Refrigerate for at least 6 hours, or overnight. I crushed up all of the broken cookie pieces and sprinkled them on top for decoration, shaved chocolate is also a nice garnish. Any garnish should be added just before serving.

this one's for beth: nut balls

2010-12-29T12:52:00.000-05:00

Buttery, nutty, shaped like a ball. A little snowball, appropriate for the blizzard apocalypse we are still trying to dig ourselves out of here in NYC. It's one of the most basic, classic holiday cookies and one of my all time favorites. It also comes together really quickly, and with ingredients that most of us always have in our pantry.

Be careful not to overbake these so they don't dry out. They are fragile while hot and may seem overly crumbly, but given some time to chill out, they almost melt back into a comfortable little morsel of butter and nuts and that faint dusting of powdered sugar. Don't inhale when you take a bite. Don't wear black. Recipe after the jump:

OLD-FASHIONED WALNUT BALLS

1 cup butter
1/3 cup brown sugar
1 teaspoon vanilla
2 cups flour, sifted
1/2 teaspoon salt
2 cups finely chopped walnuts
powdered sugar

Preheat oven to 375 degrees. Cream butter, sugar, and vanilla until fluffy. Sift flour and salt together, and mix into creamed mixture. Stir in walnuts. Shape dough into smalls balls, about the size of a walnut (maybe 1 to 1 1/2 inches in diameter. I used a small scoop). If you have the time, you can freeze the balls for 20 minutes or so, this helps them hold their ball shape a little better when baked. Bake on an ungreased cookie sheet at 375 degrees for 11-13 minutes. Let rest on cookie sheet for 5 minutes, then use a spatula to transfer to a wire cooling rack. When still warm but cool enough to handle, roll in powdered sugar.
Makes about 4 dozen.

10 minute dinner: garganelli with zucchini and ricotta salata

2010-12-22T21:53:00.004-05:00

It's the week when you scramble to make and/or buy presents for everyone on your list, plan the necessary baking, realize at the last minute that you have all the presents but nothing to package them in, attempt to keep the cats out of the strange big tree in the living room. The last thing I think about is what to make for dinner. So it's a good week for a 10-minute dinner. It's not exactly zucchini season, but I occasionally break with seasonality to bring a bit of brightness to the beginning of winter. Recipe after the jump:

GARGANELLI WITH ZUCCHINI, LEMON, AND RICOTTA SALATA

1 lb garganelli or similar short pasta (penne or cavatini is great for this)
2 tbsp extra virgin olive oil
1 medium onion, diced
3 cloves garlic, minced
2 medium zucchini, quartered lengthwise then sliced into 1/4-inch pieces
juice of 1 small lemon
1/4 cup flat-leaf parsley, minced
salt and pepper, to taste
1/4 cup grated ricotta salata

Boil a large pot of salted water for the pasta. When the pasta goes in, heat the olive oil over medium high heat in a heavy bottomed saute pan or large skillet. Saute the onions until beginning to soften, about 5 minutes. Add the garlic and saute another minute. Add the zucchini and saute until tender crisp, about 5 minutes. Add the lemon juice and season to taste with salt and pepper. When the pasta is al dente, drain and add to the pan with the zucchini. Toss to mix well, then add the parsley. Serve top with the grated ricotta salata.

smokey beans

2010-12-08T16:09:00.002-05:00

At what point do I just rename this blog "Beans and Baking"? More beans! It's cold outside. It's the season for stewing and braising and having pots bubbling away on the stove for hours, perfuming your home with the aroma of cozy. These beans are extra warm from the added smokiness of chipotle. A bit of kick and heat, tons of flavor, it transforms the humble black bean into the ultimate comfort food. Mound some on top of some rice, top with fresh cilantro and a dollop of sour cream, maybe a squeeze of lime or even some raw minced red onion.

And as with every giant pot of beans, leftovers go very far. Wrap these beans up in a tortilla with leftover rice, some raw sliced red cabbage, sour cream, shredded cheese, maybe some guac and salsa. Recipe after the jump:

SMOKEY CHIPOTLE BLACK BEANS

1 lb dried black beans
1 tablespoon canola oil
1 medium onion, chopped
4 cloves of garlic, chopped
1 carrot, chopped
4 chipotles in adobo, chopped
1/2 teaspoon of cumin
1/2 cup cilantro plus additional for garnish, chopped
1 tablespoon tomato paste
1/4 cup fresh lime juice
Six cups of water
Two cups of vegetable broth
Salt to taste

Soak the beans covered by two inches in cold water for at least 6 hours or overnight. Drain the soaked beans.

Combine the onions, carrots and garlic in a food processor and pulse until finely minced. In a large heavy dutch oven over medium heat, sauté the "sofrito" in oil for a few minutes until fragrant. Add the beans, chipotles, and 1/2 cup cilantro.

Cover beans with water and broth, bring to a boil, and then reduce heat to low. Stir occasionally.

After 1 1/2 hours, add the cumin, tomato paste, lime juice, salt and remaining cilantro and cook for 30 more minutes or until beans are tender. Serve over rice garnished with chopped cilantro and a dollop of sour cream or crema.

autumn in a jar

2010-12-03T11:31:00.001-05:00

I'm almost ashamed that I made something already ridiculously simple to make even simpler. How lazy can I be? I can try to justify this by claiming that there's an additional upside to making applesauce in a slow cooker than just convenience; it's the way that it perfumes your house with the aroma of coziness for 5 hours.

Peel some apples, chop them up, throw them in a crockpot with a touch of cider, some spices, some sugar, and then do nothing. Make sure to eat this while it is still warm, that's the most important bonus of making your own applesauce. Recipe after the jump:

SLOW COOKER APPLESAUCE

8 apples, peeled, cored, and sliced*
1/3 cup apple cider or water
juice of one lemon
1/4-1/3 cup cane sugar, to taste (amount will vary depending on your apples)
1/2 tsp ground cinnamon
1/4 tsp ground nutmeg
pinch ground clove

Place the sliced apples in the slow cooker with the apple cider and lemon juice and set on low for 4-5 hours. About 30 minutes before cooking is complete, taste the sauce and add sugar to taste. Add the remaining ingredients and let cook for the remaining 30 minutes. If desired, blend with an immersion mixer to make smooth. Store in the refrigerator in airtight containers, or jar for long term storage.

*Note: I always use a combination of apples for depth of flavor, like macoun, empire, cortland, fuji, honeycrisp, golden delicious. Whatever you love, or whatever you have that is past its raw eating prime.

presenting perfect pear pie

2010-11-08T12:15:00.000-05:00

When you've made a few too many apple pies and need a change - but not a huge one - make a pear pie instead. Maybe don't even mention that this is a pear pie when you serve it and see the thoughtful and slightly confused looks on people's faces when they taste it.

Use fairly firm anjou pears for a stunning texture and sweet, mild flavor. Grate a pile of fresh nutmeg. Make a thick, rustic pie crust, preferably with lard and butter. Serve warm or cold, with ice cream or whipped cream, or with nothing because it's that tasty. And that's it. Pears and nutmeg, whoulda thunk? Recipe after the jump:

ANJOU PEAR AND NUTMEG PIE

2 1/2 lb firm-ripe Anjou pears, peeled, cored and sliced into 1/4-inch slices
3 tablespoons all-purpose flour
1/2 teaspoon freshly grated nutmeg
1/8 teaspoon salt
2/3 cup plus 1 tablespoon sugar
1 tablespoon fresh lemon juice
1 recipe pie crust for a double crust 9" pie
1 egg

Prepare the dough for the crust and set to rest in the refrigerator for at least one hour. In the meantime, prepare the pears and toss in a large bowl with the flour, nutmeg, salt, lemon juice, and 2/3 cup sugar. Set aside to prep you crusts.

Preheat oven to 425F. Roll out the bottom crust and line a 9" deep-dish pie plate, trimming the overhang to about 1/2 inch. Fill the crust with the pear mixture. Top with the second crust, trim, and crimp the edges. Cut a cross in the middle of the top crust and fold back the corners to expose a square. Brush the crust (but not the edges) with a beaten egg, then sprinkle the remaining tablespoon sugar over top.

Bake pie on a baking sheet at 425F for20 minutes, then lower the temperature to 375 and bake for an additional 45-55 minutes, until filling is bubbling and crust is golden brown. Cool the pie on a rack for at least 2 hours before serving.

pumpkin for halloween. or squash, whatever.

2010-11-01T11:54:00.001-04:00

Other than the bag of mini-Kit Kats and a showing of Psycho at Film Forum on Friday night, Halloween passed in our household without much notice. We are fairly party pooper-ish about Halloween, due mostly to laziness about putting together costumes. When most of the world was out partying on Saturday night, we were out seeing that movie about Stephin Merritt and The Magnetic Fields. Stephin Merritt is kinda spooky. Then for Halloween proper, the extent of celebrating was including pumpkin in my Moroccan Lamb Stew. Technically it was butternut squash, but that's close enough. And Opaw hissed at least once. Happy Halloween!

My main catalyst for the lamb stew was a jar of preserved lemons that has been criminally neglected. I guess I go through stages and have a tendency to forget how magical they are. I want to dab preserved lemon behind my ears, the scent of them is so intoxicating.

I also really wanted to make some homemade harissa, because I always buy that stuff prepared and it's so silly to do so. I already have every ingredient in my house, and it takes all of 2 minutes to throw it together. Plus, I had the perfect little jar to pour it into, which brings me more satisfaction than one might think.

Tender lamb, chickpeas, squash, warm aleppo pepper, tomatoes for balance, golden raisins for a hint of sweetness, preserved lemons for tang, and a sprinkle of fresh mint to wake up the whole combination. The weather is finally cooling down, and this is the dish to warm you up. Recipe after the jump:

MOROCCAN LAMB STEW WITH PRESERVED LEMONS AND HARISSA

2 pounds lean shoulder of lamb, cut into 1-inch cubes
Kosher salt and freshly ground black pepper
2 tablespoons olive oil
1 medium onion, chopped
2 cloves garlic, minced
2 tablespoons harissa sauce (recipe follows), plus more for serving
4 cups peeled, uncooked butternut squash in 1/2-inch cubes
1 28-ounce can whole peeled tomatoes, drained and chopped
1 15-ounce can cooked chickpeas, drained and rinsed
1 preserved lemon, rind and pulp finely diced, plus additional pulp from 1 preserved lemon
1/4 cup golden raisins
1/4 cup fresh chopped mint for garnish

Cooked couscous or bulghur for serving.

Season the lamb cubes with salt and pepper. Heat the olive oil in a large dutch oven set over medium-high heat and cook the lamb, stirring, until lightly browned, about 5 minutes. Add the onion and garlic and continue to cook until the onion is soft. Add the 2 tbsp of harissa sauce and cook another 5 minutes.

Add 2 cups water, bring to a boil, lower heat and simmer, covered, until the lamb is tender, about 45 minutes. Add the squash, tomatoes, chickpeas and additional water to almost cover the ingredients. Simmer, uncovered, until the squash is tender, about 20 minutes.

Stir in the preserved lemon and raisins and cook another 2 minutes. Remove from the heat, garnish with mint and serve with couscous or bulghur and more harissa on the side.

Serves 4-6.

HARISSA SAUCE

1/2 cup olive oil
3 tbsp tomato paste
2 tbsp fresh lime juice
1 tbsp Aleppo pepper
1 tsp cumin
1/2 tsp coriander
1/4 to 1/2 tsp cayenne pepper, depending on desired heat level
1/4 tsp kosher salt

In a small bowl, whisk together all the ingredients. Let sit at least an hour before serving with lamb stew.

life events and lemon loaf

2010-10-25T18:15:00.002-04:00

Straddling the line between savory and sweet, it's where I often love to be. It's a bit cake, a bit bread, bright lemon, woodsy rosemary, fruity olive oil, a touch of salt. It's unexpected.

Foods that surprise me are often the ones I find most memorable. Unusual flavor combinations, strange ingredients, or foods that don't sound like they would work, but they just do. Lemon, rosemary, and olive oil is not a particularly unusual combination, but perhaps in the context of a cake it's a little surprising.

It's corny to say, but surprising combinations are a lot like J-Cat and me. Who woulda thunk, 13 years after first meeting, after all that time that I thought we were a combination that didn't work, we did. So we did a little surprising of our own a couple of weeks ago when we went here:

The rest is history, and the recipe is after the jump:

LEMON ROSEMARY OLIVE OIL LOAF

4 eggs
3/4 cup granulated sugar
zest and juice of 1 lemon
1/2 cup extra virgin olive oil
1 1/2 cups all-purpose flour
2 tsp baking powder
1/2 tsp salt
2 sprigs rosemary leaves, finely chopped

Preheat the oven to 350 degrees. Grease a loaf pan or line with parchment paper. Using a hand mixer, beat eggs in a large bowl until frothy, about 1 minute. Add the sugar and beat another couple of minutes until thick and pale. Add the lemon juice, zest, and olive oil and mix until well incorporated.

In a separate bowl, whisk together the flour, baking powder, salt, and chopped rosemary. Add the dry ingredients into the wet, stirring with a wooden spoon just until incorporated. Pour into prepared loaf ban. Bake in center of oven for 35-40 minutes until golden brown.

butterscotch

2010-09-27T12:13:00.000-04:00

Butterscotch. It sounds strange to say, but I didn't really like butterscotch until recently. It should be the other way around, but as a kid I just thought butterscotch was sweet and not much else. I imagine that might be due to many really bad butterscotch candies or instant butterscotch puddings. It's not until I started actively working with candy and sugar that I started to understand what real butterscotch was about. It's about butter. The amazingness of butter. THAT is something to appreciate.

When butterscotch is made properly - no corn syrup, no weird additives, no hydrogenated fats - it tastes so deeply of browned butter and molasses-y brown sugar, how could that be a bad thing? Though true butterscotch is a candy confection, the classic butterscotch flavor is used in a ton of alternative ways - in puddings, sauces for ice cream, cakes, and cookies. And here are some butterscotch cookies.

A touch of crisp on the outside, dense and slightly chewy on the inside, a sprinkling of flaky sea salt brings out the deep nutty flavor and balances the richness. Recipe after the jump:

SALTY BUTTERSCOTCH BUTTONS
Adapted from Simply Recipes

12 tablespoons unsalted butter, cut into tablespoon sized slices
1 3/4 cups dark brown sugar
1/2 teaspoon salt
1 egg
1 egg yolk
1 tablespoon vanilla extract
2 1/2 cups all-purpose flour
1/2 teaspoon baking soda
1/4 teaspoon baking powder

1/4 cup granulated sugar, for dredging
Fleur de sel, Maldon, sea salt, or Kosher salt for sprinkling

Preheat oven to 375°F and line two baking sheets with parchment paper. Whisk or sift together the flour, baking soda, and baking powder and set aside. Place the sugar for dredging in another bowl and set aside.

Place 10 tablespoons of butter into a thick-bottomed skillet over medium heat. The butter will foam a bit before subsiding. Once the butter takes on a tan color and begins to smell nutty take it off of the heat. Add the other two tablespoons of butter and mix it in until it melts.

Pour the brown butter into a mixing bowl fitted with a paddle attachment. Add the brown sugar and salt and mix well. Add the egg, egg yolk, and vanilla extract and mix together, scraping down the sides and bottom of the bowl at least once. Add the flour mixture in three increments being sure to scrape down the sides and bottom once or twice. Mix just until the flour is incorporated. The dough will be very thick.

Take 1/2 tablespoon sized pieces of dough (I used a 1-inch diameter scoop to insure that all cookies were about the same size) and gently roll them into ball shapes. Dredge them in the sugar until well-coated. Place on the baking sheet and sprinkle with a little bit of the sprinkling salt.

Bake for 10-11 minutes or until the edges have browned a bit. Be careful not to over-bake. Allow to cool on the sheet for one minute before transferring to a wire rack to cool completely.

Makes 4 dozen.

break the butter rules

2010-08-23T21:42:00.002-04:00

If you ask me to describe myself in a nutshell, I will answer with one simple fact: I put salt in all my sweets. I think this is actually a profound statement that speaks to just about all aspects of my personality. And I don't mean that little pinch of salt that every baking recipe calls for, claiming it enhances the sweetness of the sweet. If it calls for a pinch, I throw in two or three, and I'll still top that cookie with some flaky sea salt for good measure. So it only makes sense that I would be inextricably drawn to a recipe for cookies that actually calls for salted butter. And not just run-of-the-mill salted butter, but beautiful French butter with fleur de sel. I used a brand called Pamplie, an old brand made in a region of France called Deux-Sevres, which is apparently known for its fine dairy products.

I took the recipe one step further by sprinkling some more flaky sea salt atop the cookie. I imagine that might push it over the salty edge for some people, but for me it was perfection. It's all about balance - sweet needs salty, chewy needs crunchy. I try to live by the wisdom of the salted butter chocolate chip cookie. Recipe after the jump:

SALTED BUTTER CHOCOLATE CHIP COOKIES
Adapted from the recipe by David Lebovitz

4 ounces salted butter, at room temperature
1/2 cup packed dark or light brown sugar
1/2 cup granulated sugar
1 large egg, at room temperature
1/2 teaspoon vanilla extract
1 1/3 cup flour
1/2 teaspoon baking soda
1/2 teaspoon flaky sea salt or kosher salt
1 cup coarsely chopped bittersweet chocolate
1 cup toasted walnuts, coarsely chopped
flaky sea salt for sprinkling

In a large bowl, use a hand mixer to beat the butter with the sugars until smooth and creamy. Beat in the egg and the vanilla.

In a small bowl, whisk together the flour, baking soda, and salt.

Add the flour mixture into the beaten butter until well combined, then mix in the chopped chocolate (including any chocolate dust) and the chopped nuts.

Cover the dough and refrigerate for at least 12 hours, preferably 24.

Preheat the oven to 350 degrees. Line two baking sheets with Silpat or parchment paper. Use a small ice cream scoop to make rounds about 1.5 inches in diameter. Place the mounds evenly spaced apart on the baking sheets, and press down the tops to flatten them so they are no longer domed and the dough is even. Sprinkle each cookie lightly with flaky sea salt.

Bake the cookies for ten minutes, rotating the baking sheets midway during baking, until the cookies look about set, but are not browned.

Remove from the oven and quickly tap the top of each with a spatula, then return to the oven for two more minutes, until the tops of the cookies are light golden brown.

Remove from oven and let cool on a rack.

Storage: The cookies can be stored at room temperature for up to five days in an airtight container. The dough can be refrigerated for up to one week or frozen for one or two months.

lemony creme fraiche ice cream

2010-08-18T10:20:00.002-04:00

Sometimes I love an ice cream that you don't have to turn a stove on for. The tanginess of creme fraiche and buttermilk, the brightness of lemon juice and zest, and that's all it takes. This would be the perfect accompaniment to a subtle olive oil cake or a pear tart, but it's also good just on it's own, maybe with some chopped pecans for crunch. Twenty minutes to greatness. Recipe after the jump:

LEMON CREME FRAICHE ICE CREAM

2 cups creme fraiche
2 cups buttermilk
zest of 1/2 lemon
1/3 cup fresh lemon juice
1 1/4 cups sugar
pinch of salt

Blend all ingredients together in a blender or food processor, making sure to scrape down the sides of the bowl. Chill until very cold, at least 4 hours, then freeze in an ice cream maker according to manufacturer's direction. Makes about 1 1/4 quarts.

rancho gordo: the beauty of beans

2010-08-11T11:14:00.003-04:00

I'm having a very bean-y summer. It's not unusual for me to move away from eating heavy meat when it's hot out, but I generally consider beans a hearty and warming food, too, so it's odd that beans are where I keep finding myself right now. The textures of beans - both fresh and dried - are constantly calling to me. I ignore common sense and let a pot bubble on my stove for hours when it's 95 degrees out.

It is hard not to want beans all the time when the beans are as gorgeous as the ones from Rancho Gordo. Steve Sando has made the humble bean a sexy ingredient by growing and selling dozens of heirloom breeds that most of us had never seen or heard of before. Each type of bean is beautiful and unique, all sizes and colors, stripes and spots, flavors and textures.

One of my favorites varieties - and the one that Sando claims started this whole business when he first took a bite - is Rio Zape. A gorgeous mauve-colored bean with dark purple stripes and little white eye, Rio Zapes are similar to Pinto beans, but are denser and richer in flavor. The best way to start using heirloom beans if you want to understand why they are so amazing is to go simple simple simple. A bit of bacon, some aromatics, maybe a nice dark beer, finish it off with some tomatoes for acid and a fresh cilantro relish for bite. Simple and hearty, really taste the bean. Recipe after the jump:

BEER AND BACON BEANS WITH CILANTRO RELISH

For the beans:
1 pound Rancho Gordo Rio Zape Beans (use can substitute pintos or any beans you like)
2 tbsp olive oil
1/4 lb smokey bacon, diced
1 medium yellow onion, diced
3 cloves of garlic, minced
1 jalapeno pepper, minced
6 fresh sage leaves
1 sprig fresh rosemary
1 bottle stout or other dark beer
1 15-oz can diced tomatoes
juice of 1/2 lemon (use the 1/2 lemon left over from making the relish)
salt and pepper to taste

For the relish:
1 large bunch cilantro
1 medium shallot
1 clove garlic
zest of 1 lemon
juice of 1/2 lemon
salt
olive oil

To make the beans:
Cover the dried beans with cold water allowing at least two inches of water covering the surface of the beans. Soak for at least 6 hours or overnight. Do not discard the soaking liquid.

In a large heavy pot, heat the olive oil. Add the diced bacon and saute, rendering out the fat and crisping the bacon. When it is brown and crispy, remove the bacon with a slotted spoon and set aside to drain on paper towels. You will use this bacon to finish the beans.

Remove all but 2-3 tablespoons of fat from the pot. Saute the onion and garlic until fragrant. Add the sage, rosemary and minced jalapeno and saute until fragrant. Add the beans with their soaking liquid, plus the bottle of beer. If necessary, add additional water to cover the beans. Bring to a boil, then lower to a very slow simmer until the beans are tender. This will take anywhere from 1-2 hours depending on how long they soaked and how firm you like your beans. I tend to like my beans with a bite. When the beans are tender, add the tomatoes, lemon juice, and bacon, and season well with salt and pepper. Cook a few minutes more to incorporate the acids and the bacon. Remove the sage leaves and rosemary before serving. Serve on rice or with crusty bread, topped with a dollop of the cilantro relish and the crispy bacon bits.

For the cilantro relish:
Mince the cilantro, shallot, and garlic very finely, you can use a mini-prep if you like. Add the lemon zest, juice and salt to taste. Add enough olive oil to make a thick pesto-like sauce. Serve alongside the beans.

in season: cardamom apricot pistachio crostata

2010-08-03T14:55:00.000-04:00

My favorite scents are all foods. I like to wear lemon verbena. The hand soaps in my bathrooms are ginger and lemon, or coconut and honey. My deodorant smells like lemongrass. My body lotion actually has real vanilla beans in it. I even caught myself sniffing a delicious anti-bacterial wipe with lemongrass and thyme scent. Deliciously clean. Now I want a perfume scented with warm cardamom and ripe apricots.

This rustic tart was one of those great recipes that built in my head throughout the day. First I got the gorgeous apricots and sniffed and sniffed them. Then I decided I wanted some crunch and thought that the subtle sweetness of pistachios would be the perfect thing to offset the tartness of the fruit. Then, for some reason, pistachios make me thing of cardamom. It just seemed to make perfect sense.

The tart is true simplicity. A classic pate brisee crust made free-form over the fresh fruit, just tossed in sugar and spice and sprinkled liberally with chopped nuts. I did think after I already baked it that I should have used honey instead of sugar for another layer of flavor, but the good thing about cooking revelations that come a little too late is always having an excuse to make it again. Recipe after the jump:

APRICOT PISTACHIO CROSTATA

For the pate brisee:
1 1/4 cups all-purpose flour
1 tablespoon granulated sugar
1/4 tsp salt
1/2 cup (1 stick) cold unsalted butter, cut into small dice
3-5 tablespoons ice cold water

For the filling:
1 1/2 pounds ripe apricots (About a dozen small)
1/3 cup granulated sugar
1/2 tsp ground cardamom
1/8 tsp kosher salt

For the topping: 1/3 cup chopped unsalted pistachios

To make the crust: Combine the flour, sugar, and salt the bowl of a food processor and pulse a couple times to mix and aerate. Add the cubed butter and pulse until the mixture resembles a coarse meal. Slowly add the ice water a tablespoon at a time through the feed tube as the processor runs. Add just enough water for the dough to start to come together. Turn the dough out onto the counter, shape into a disk, cover with plastic wrap and refrigerate for at least 1 hour. Preheat your oven to 400 degrees.

To make the filling: Slice the apricots along the seam and remove the pit. Cut each half into 2 or 3 wedges, depending on the size of the apricot. Toss the wedges with the sugar, cardamom and salt until well coated. Let sit for a few minutes while you roll out your crust.

Roll your crust into a 13-inch circle. Arrange the apricot wedges in a decorative pattern from the inside out, leaving a 2-inch border of crust all around. Pour over any syrup that may have collected at the bottom of the bowl of fruit. Fold the overhang of the crust over the fruit all around the tart. Bake in the preheated oven for 30 minutes, then scatter the chopped pistachios evenly over the fruit, return to the oven and bake an additional 5-10 minutes until the crust is golden brown and the fruit is bubbly. Serve warm with a dollop of lightly sweetened whipped cream.

greek diner dinner

2010-07-26T14:51:00.002-04:00

I remember once that a friend was visiting from a faraway state and was unfamiliar with the NY-style diner. It's really 24 hours? This huge thing is the menu? You can really get ANY of this stuff at ANY time? What's with all the Greek food? I don't know diners any other way. Everywhere else I've been in the states, a "diner" is not remotely a diner. I think the word "diner" in most of the country suggests simple comfort grub, like burgers and fries and eggs and pancakes. To me, the quintessential diner dinner is spinach pie with a Greek salad.

Spanakopita is probably more commonly known as an hors d'oeuvres at weddings, wrapped as little crispy triangles. Diner style spanakopita is pie-style, a huge square cut from a huge tray. It is certainly easier to make that way, though perhaps not easier to eat. And it's a very simple dish, just a little time-consuming and perhaps a little frustrating, depending on how you feel about phyllo. Phyllo is a pain in the ass, but at least for this dish you're putting on so many layers that no one will care if there's a tear or two. Serve this with a big salad piled with crumbled feta, kalamata olives, grape tomatoes, chopped cucumber, and thinly sliced red onion for the complete diner experience. Recipe after the jump:

SPANAKOPITA (SPINACH PIE)

2 lbs fresh spinach, washed well and spun dry
3 tbsps extra virgin olive oil
1 medium yellow onion
1/4 cup fresh dill
juice of 1/2 lemon
1/2 lb greek feta
1 egg, beaten
1 lb phyllo leaves
1/2 cup (1 stick) unsalted butter
salt and pepper to taste

In a large pot, heat 2 tbsps olive oil. Add the spinach and saute until wilted. You may need to do this in 2 batches. Remove the spinach to a large bowl and allow to cool. Add the remaining oil to the same pot and saute the onions until translucent. Set aside to cool. When the spinach is cool enough to handle, squeeze out the excess liquid, then chop well. Add the onions, dill, and lemon juice and season with salt and pepper to taste. Crumble the feta into the spinach mixture, then add the beaten egg and stir well to combine.

Preheat the oven to 350 degrees. Melt the butter in a small pan. Using a pastry brush, butter the sides and bottom of a 9/13 baking pan. Place 10 layers of phyllo dough in the bottom of the dish, buttering each layer (you may need to cut down the sheets to the correct size of the dish, but it is not a big deal if it is slightly large and the sides go up the sides of the pan slightly). Be sure to keep the phyllo damp by covering the unused sheets with a damp towel until you use them. After 10 layers of phyllo, spoon the spinach mixture evenly over the pie. Top with another 10 layers of phyllo, again buttering every layer. Bake in the preheated oven for 40 to 45 minutes, or until the top is golden brown and crispy. Allow to cool for 10 minutes before slicing into large squares.

milk & honey

2010-07-22T16:19:00.001-04:00

Okay, it's been awhile. It's not that I haven't been cooking, it's just that all I want to make is mint chip ice cream. That's not very exciting for all of you readers, but it is very exciting for me.

To give you something to chew on, I decided to take a very brief break from mintiness this week and instead make this Honey Vanilla Goat's Milk Ice Cream. Why goat's milk? Mostly, I was just curious. And the answer is that it really doesn't taste any different from cow's milk, especially when made into an ice cream. Actually this is more like a gelato because it is only milk, no cream. And the choice of honey was simply due to a lovely gift of some wonderful Blueberry Blossom Honey from Red Bee Artisanal Honeys, who came and did a truly fascinating honey tasting with us the other day.

How to describe the result? I know it doesn't look exciting, but it was fairly exciting nonetheless. It was a little less creamy than a full on ice cream, as expected, but the texture was still very lovely. And the flavor of wonderful honey with vanilla bean was, to put it simply, Honeycomb Cereal-esque. Sort of like how you might expect Honeycomb Cereal Ice Cream to taste in the best way you could imagine. I hope that reads as a big positive, because I do love Honeycomb Cereal. Recipe after the jump:

HONEY-VANILLA GOAT'S MILK ICE CREAM

3 cups goat milk
1/2 cup honey
1 vanilla bean
4 egg yolks

Pour the milk into a medium saucepan and set over medium heat. Scrape the seeds out of a vanilla bean and add the seeds and pod to the milk. Heat until steaming, being careful not to boil or scorch. Add the honey and stir well to dissolve. Remove the vanilla pod and discard. Whisk the egg yolks. Slowly add a ladleful of the hot milk to the egg yolks, whisking briskly to avoid scrambling the eggs. Return the egg/milk mixture to the pot of milk. Cook over medium-low heat, stirring constantly, until the custard thickens enough to coat the back of the spoon. Strain the custard into a bowl over an ice bath and stir to cool down. Transfer to the fridge and allow to chill thoroughly for at least 6 hours or preferably overnight. Freeze in an ice cream maker according to manufacturer directions.

in season: blueberry buttermilk scones

2010-06-30T17:15:00.001-04:00

It's summer now, and summer is blueberry season. There's not much more that I can say than that I am obsessed with blueberries and eat them everyday when they're good. I eat them straight, I bake them into everything, I even toss them on salads. This is just a humble blueberry buttermilk scone. It doesn't get much better than this. And these are good for you. In the sense that they aren't BAD for you. Antioxidants and fiber and all that good stuff. Mostly, they're just good. Recipe after the jump:

BLUEBERRY BUTTERMILK SCONES

1 1/4 cup all-purpose flour
3/4 cup whole wheat pastry flour
1 1/2 tablespoon granulated sugar
2 1/2 tsp baking powder
3/4 tsp salt
4 ounces (1 stick) cold unsalted butter, diced
1 heaping cup fresh blueberries
zest of one small lemon
1/2 cup buttermilk
1 large egg, plus 1 large egg lightly beaten for egg wash
1/2 teaspoon pure vanilla extract
coarse sugar (like demerara) for sprinkling.

Preheat oven to 375 degrees. Line a baking sheet with parchment paper or a silicone mat.

Whisk together flours, granulated sugar, baking powder and salt in a large bowl. Add butter and rub with your fingers until mixture has the texture of course meal. Gently stir in blueberries.

In another bowl whisk together buttermilk, 1 egg , lemon zest and vanilla. Drizzle over flour mixture and stir lightly with a fork until the dough just comes together. Do not overwork the dough.

Turn out dough onto work surface and gently knead dough once or twice just to incorporate the flour. Pat the dough into a 1-inch thick round. Cut the round into approximately 10-12 wedges. Transfer to baking sheet.

Brush the top of each scone with egg wash and sprinkle generously with coarse sugar. Bake until golden brown and cooked through, roughly 25 minutes. Transfer scones to a wire rack to cool.

in season: summer (spring) berry pudding

2010-06-21T15:09:00.000-04:00

It is really freaking hot out today. We didn't have much of a spring, it's been so hot for so long already. Even though it was not technically summer until today, this berry pudding made a special spring appearance to help combat the weather and take advantage of the super sweet berries gracing the greenmarket.

Since it was still spring when I actually made this, my choice of berries leans toward the early season favorites - strawberries, blueberries, and sweet cherries. This super easy British classic takes modest ingredients and transforms them into an almost fancy dessert with just a little patience and pressure. It's almost as if the bread, soaking up those sweet juices, turns into cake and waits for you cold and refreshing in the fridge to delight you with a dollop of cream. And you don't even need to turn on an oven. Keep one of these in the fridge at all times this summer, choose the best variety of berries that you can find in the market, you won't regret it. Recipe after the jump:

SUMMER BERRY PUDDING

6 cups assorted seasonal berries (strawberries, blueberries, cherries, blackberries, raspberries, currants, etc)
3/4 cup sugar
1 tbsp kirsch
1 small bundle of mint
1 loaf of soft, dense sliced white bread, crusts removed (brioche also works great)

Prep any berries that need stemming or pitting, slicing any larger berries. In a medium saucepan, combine the berries with the sugar, kirsch, and mint bundle. Bring to a simmer over medium heat and cook until the juices release and the berries soften, about 8-10 minutes. Remove the mint bundle and discard, then set the berries aside to cool slightly.

Line a 6-cup pudding bowl with plastic wrap, leaving enough overhang to cover the opening once it is full. Line the bowl along the bottom and all the way up the sides with slices of bread, dipping the outer side of the bread into the berry syrup before placing. Be sure the bowl is completely lined, you will probably need to cut slices to size to fill gaps. Using a slotted spoon, fill the bowl with about 1/3 of the berries. Top with a layer of bread. Repeat the layering twice, finish with a cover of bread dipped in the syrup. Pour the remaining syrup over the top layer. Fold over the plastic wrap overhang. Cover with a plate, pressing down on the pudding. Top the plate with a heavy can to weight it down. Store in the fridge for at least 12 hours, but the longer you let it chill the better.

To serve, unmold the pudding and remove the plastic wrap. Slice into wedges and serve topped with fresh berries, a dollop of whipped cream, and a garnish of mint.

ice cream garden

2010-06-14T11:07:00.001-04:00

I don't know how it is that I had never made mint chocolate chip ice cream. It is easily my all-time favorite ice cream flavor. And now that I have made it and realize how much fresh mint blows away any store-bought mint extract-based green stuff, I may have to continually make this every few days.

Because J and I finished the whole quart in two days. QUART. In TWO DAYS. I'm not proud of that, but it was just so freaking good. Creamy and extra cool, with this added fresh grassy flavor that only real herbs could bring. I added the bittersweet chocolate in a straciatella style, by melting it, drizzling ribbons onto the softly frozen ice cream, and breaking up the chocolate by hand. This results in super crackly thin bits of chocolate, incredibly well distributed.

And look, it's actually green! Recipe after the jump:

MINT CHOCOLATE CHIP ICE CREAM
Adapted from the recipe by David Leibovitz

For the mint ice cream:

3 cups half and half, divided
3/4 cup sugar
pinch of salt
2 cups packed fresh mint leaves
5 large egg yolks

For the chocolate chips:

4 ounces bittersweet chocolate, chopped

1. In a medium saucepan, warm the sugar with 2 cups of the half and half, salt, and mint.

2. Once the mixture is hot and steaming, remove from heat, cover, and let stand for an hour to infuse the mint flavor.

3. Remove the mint with a strainer, then squeeze out as much liquid from the mint leaves as possible. Discard the mint.

4. Pour the remaining half and half into a large bowl and set the strainer over the top.

5. Rewarm the infused milk. In a separate bowl, whisk the egg yolks, then slowly add some of warmed milk to the eggs to temper, whisking constantly. Add the warmed egg mixture back into the pot of milk.

6. Cook the custard, stirring constantly with a heatproof spatula, until the mixture thickens and coats the spatula. If using an instant read thermometer, it should read around 170ºF.

7. Immediately strain the mixture into the cream, then stir the mixture over an ice bath until cool.

8. Refrigerate the mixture thoroughly, preferably overnight, then freeze it in your ice cream maker according to the manufacturer's instructions.

While the mixture is freezing, melt the chocolate in a small bowl over a pot of simmering water, or in a microwave oven on low power, stirring until smooth. Place a storage container in the freezer.

9. When the ice cream in the machine is ready, scribble some of the chocolate into the container, then add a layer of the just-churned ice cream to the container. Scribble melted chocolate over the top of the ice cream, then quickly stir it in, breaking up the chocolate into irregular pieces. Continue layering the ice cream, scribbling more chocolate and stirring as you go.

When finished, cover and freeze until firm.

apparently, sade sang a song about cherry pie, too

2010-06-07T21:05:00.007-04:00

It is confirmed, the teeniest touch of almond makes the flavor of cherries burst to the forefront. Of course, it does help to have beautifully sweet and plump cherries to work with. This cherry-almond pie was - if I can give myself a pat on the back - the BEST cherry pie I've ever had.

It is the essence of cherry flavor, the flavor that makes you understand what all of those artificial cherry flavors are trying to go for, but don't quite get right.

If you can manage to stop yourself from eating all of the cherries before they go into the pie (I think approximately the same amount of cherries went into the pie as went straight into my mouth), this is what you should do with lovely fresh cherries. It will ruin you forever for any store bought pie, or pie filling in a can, or those gut bomb pocket pies covered in glaze. THIS is what cherry pie should be, the only thing it should ever be. This pie is fantastic warm with vanilla ice cream, but was actually even better cold with nothing at all. Recipe after the jump:

FRESH CHERRY AND ALMOND PIE

1 recipe for a double crust 9-inch deep dish pie
2 pounds fresh cherries, pitted
4 tablespoons quick-cooking tapioca
1 cup granulated sugar
1/2 teaspoon pure vanilla extract
1/4 teaspoon almond extract
1 teaspoon kirsch
1/2 cup thinly sliced almonds
1 tablespoon butter, diced
3 tablespoons heavy cream, optional

Preheat oven to 400 degrees. In a large mixing bowl, toss the cherries, sugar, tapioca, extracts, and kirsch and let sit for 15-20 minutes.

Roll out the chilled pie dough for the bottom crust and line a deep dish pie plate, leaving 1/2 inch of overhang. Fill the pie with the cherry mixture, then sprinkle the almond slices over the fruit. Dot with the butter pieces. Cover with the top crust, crimp to seal, and cut slits to allow steam to escape. Brush the crust with the heavy cream. Bake in the preheated oven for 50-55 minutes until crust is golden brown and juices are bubbling. Allow to cool completely before slicing.

labor of love: foodCrafters

2010-05-31T13:36:00.003-04:00

Tonight at 9 and 9:30PM, my new show foodCrafters premieres two episodes on the brand new Cooking Channel. This project is very near and dear to my heart, and I hope to do justice to the amazing people whose stories we're telling. Please tune in, and enjoy!

signs of spring: strawberry sour cream ice cream

2010-05-17T20:52:00.002-04:00

When I was a kid, my mom made amazing waffles. The thin round kind that got perfectly crispy. She would underfill the waffle maker so the edges would be these sort of blobs of batter and get especially crisp. Instead of syrup, my mom would spread the waffles with sour cream - getting it all in the squares - dust it with powdered sugar, then top with thawed frozen strawberries. I have no idea where this combination came from, but to me it is an ultimate comfort food. Sour cream and strawberry waffles are some of my most vivid food memories from childhood.

When I saw this recipe by ice cream maven David Lebovitz for Strawberry Sour Cream Ice Cream, I knew that this would be my first ice cream of the spring season. I waited oh so many weeks for the strawberries to starting popping up at farmer's markets. My wait has finally come to an end.

The sweet, pure flavor of new strawberries, the slightest subtle tang of sour cream, the secret edge of kirsch and lemon juice. The result is smooth and fresh and lovely, and brings back memories of Saturday morning breakfasts. Oh my god, I'm going to go make waffle cones to eat this in. Recipe after the jump:

STRAWBERRY SOUR CREAM ICE CREAM
From The Perfect Scoop by David Lebovitz

Makes about 1 1/4 quarts

1 pound fresh strawberries, rinsed and hulled
3/4 c. sugar
1 tbsp. vodka or kirsch
1 c. sour cream
1 c. heavy cream
1/2 tsp. freshly squeezed lemon juice

1) Slice the strawberries and toss them in a bowl with the sugar and vodka or kirsch. Stir until the sugar begins to dissolve. Let stand at room temperature for 1 hour, stirring every so often.

2) Pulse the strawberries and their liquid with the sour cream, heavy cream and lemon juice in a blender or food processor until almost smooth, but still slightly chunky.

3) Freeze in your ice cream maker according to the manufacturer’s instructions.

signs of spring: asparagus pesto

2010-05-09T22:02:00.005-04:00

After a long couple of weeks of nonstop work, I was WIPED OUT by Sunday evening, and my plans of ice cream experimenting and pie making and who knows what else was slowly slipping away. I needed a simple easy dinner that left very little clean-up, but I still wanted SPRING. So, the logical decision, take a cue from Mark Bittman in this week's NY Times, and turn that lovely asparagus into a pesto.

It doesn't get much easier than breaking out the food processor and blending a bunch of stuff up and tossing it with pasta. All it takes is about 8 minutes of blanching (in the same water I ended up boiling the pasta in), and the asparagus was ready to toss in the processor with the classic pine nuts, cheese, and olive oil. I tweaked his recipe a bit, adding in a bit of basil and more lemon juice. I also iced the asparagus after blanching thinking it might help preserve the vibrant green. I'm not sure that it was really necessary. Tossed with some fresh fettuccine, this dinner was wolfed down enthusiastically. Recipe after the jump:

ASPARAGUS PESTO
Adapted from a recipe by Mark Bittman, New York Times

Salt
1 pound asparagus, trimmed and cut into 2-inch segments
1 clove garlic, or more to taste
1/4 cup pine nuts
1/4 cup basil leaves
1/4 cup olive oil, or more as desired
3/4 cup freshly grated Parmesan cheese
Freshly ground black pepper
Juice of 1/2 lemon, or to taste.

1. Bring a large pot of water to a boil and salt it. Add the asparagus and cook until fully tender but not mushy, 8 to 10 minutes. Drain well, reserving some of the cooking liquid, and let the asparagus cool slightly.

2. Transfer the asparagus to a food processor and add the garlic, pine nuts, 2 tablespoons of the oil, Parmesan, a pinch of salt and a couple of tablespoons of the cooking liquid. Process the mixture, stopping to scrape down the sides of the container if necessary, and gradually add the remaining oil and a bit more of the reserved cooking liquid to moisten if necessary. Add the lemon juice and season with salt and pepper to taste, pulse one last time, and serve over pasta, fish or chicken (or cover and refrigerate for up to a day).

Yield: 4 to 6 servings (about 1 1/2 cups).

weekly granola

2010-04-26T21:16:00.004-04:00

I'm obsessed with granola. For some reason, it just struck me a few weeks ago that homemade granola is an ideal breakfast. I can control the sugar and fat levels, everything is of the highest quality, and I know there is no questionable crap in it. Throw a handful on top of some fat free Greek yogurt and you have a filling, nutritious, tasty breakfast. And the best thing about it is that I can constantly change it up, so I don't get too tired of eating it several times a week. It's a fun puzzle to come up with interesting flavor combinations every week. Sometimes I want something a little strange, sometimes something classic. I've made an island-inspired flavor with pineapple, coconut, and macadamia nuts. A sort of middle-eastern flavor with apricots, cashews, and cardamom. This week, it's my super-health mix: blueberry for antioxidants, almonds for calcium and vitamin E, flax seed for fiber and omega-3 fatty acids. I use olive oil in all of my granolas for flavor and healthy fat, and I sweeten with agave syrup, which apparently has a lower glycemic index than sugar or honey. Normally I don't worry too much about that, but I'm experimenting with the glycemic index issue for breakfast, to see if it keeps me on a more even level throughout the day.

Alright, that is a paragraph of way more healthiness than I am normally inclined to discuss on this blog, so I'll stop now. Did I tell you that I tasted a heavenly lardo at Dickson's the other day? Recipe after the jump:

SUPERHEALTHY BLUEBERRY GRANOLA

3 1/2 cups old-fashioned oats
1 cup raw pumkin seeds (pepitas)
1/2 cup raw sesame seeds
1 cup sliced almonds
1 cup flax seeds
1 tsp cinnamon
1 tsp ground ginger
pinch ground clove
1 1/2 tsp kosher salt
1/3 cup extra virgin olive oil
2/3 cup light agave syrup
1 cup dried blueberries

Preheat oven to 300 degrees. In a large bowl, mix together all ingredients except blueberries. Spread evenly on a rimmed baking sheet and bake for 45 minutes, stirring every ten minutes. Remove from oven and let cool 10 minutes before breaking up. Break up into a large bowl and add the blueberries, tossing to combine.

lemon! pie! lemon pie!

2010-04-16T17:05:00.006-04:00

What is this, the 50th lemon pie I've made on here? Who is obsessed with lemon pie? I am!

And this one was really pretty interesting: Shaker Lemon Pie. This sour marmalade-like pie is said to be an old specialty of the Ohio Shakers, and is beautiful in both its simplicity and its craftiness. Kind of like their furniture! It uses the whole lemon, peel and all, to add a depth of flavor and let no part go wasted. For a lemon fiend like myself - who also happens to be baking pie crusts like a maniac lately - it is a perfect slice of tart and sweet and fresh and even a tiny bit bitter. Not for the those who are ambivalent about lemons.

I used Meyer lemons for this recipe, well, mostly just because I could. Recipe after the jump:

SHAKER LEMON PIE

1 recipe pie crust for a 2-crust 9" pie (My Favorite)
4 Meyer lemons
2 cups sugar
1 teaspoon salt
1 teaspoon vanilla
4 eggs

Slice the whole lemons as thinly as possible, taking care to remove all seeds (use a mandoline if you have one). Toss with the sugar and salt and set aside.

Preheat oven to 450°F. Roll out half of your chilled pie crust and line a 9" pie plate. Cut off the excess, leaving about 3/4 of an inch overhang all around. Place in the freezer to chill while you prepare the filling.

Beat the eggs well with the vanilla and stir into the lemons. Remove the chilled pie crust from the freezer and pour in the lemons.

Roll out your top crust and place, cutting away overhang. Tuck the edges of the top crust under the overhang of the bottom and crimp to seal. Cut slits or a hole to allow steam to escape. If desired, brush the crust with egg white and sprinkle a thin layer of sugar on top. Put back in the freezer for 15 minutes to chill.

Bake the chilled pie on the lowest rack for 15 minutes at 450°F. Then turn the heat down to 375°F and move to the center rack. Bake for another 30 minutes or until the crust is golden. If the crust edges begin browning too much cover with foil.

Let cool for at least half an hour before eating. This pie is great with some whipped cream or vanilla ice cream.

j-cat cooks: sweet and spicy lamb ribs

2010-04-05T13:38:00.002-04:00

Part two of the series "We Are Obsessed with Lamb". Sticky and sweet, spicy and lamby. J-Cat had himself a craving for a some lamb ribs and went above and beyond with these. The combination of ancho chile and cayenne pepper with orange marmalade and red wine vinegar was balanced and even, and perfectly messy. This was one of those meals where there may have been other dishes on the table, but we just hunkered down and ripped away at these ribs and didn't speak for a while. And used many many napkins. Recipe after the jump:

TEX-MEX ROASTED LAMB RIBS
Adapted from Gourmet, May 2007

1/4 cup vegetable oil
2 garlic cloves, minced
2 tablespoons pure chile powder (preferably ancho)
2 teaspoons ground cumin
1 teaspoon black pepper
1 teaspoon cayenne
2 1/2 teaspoons salt
3 to 3 1/4 lb Denver ribs (lamb breast spareribs; 2 racks)
1/2 cup orange marmalade (not bitter)
1/2 cup red-wine vinegar

Marinate ribs:
Stir together oil, garlic, chile powder, cumin, pepper, 1/2 teaspoon cayenne, and 2 teaspoons salt in a small bowl. Pat lamb dry and rub all over with spice mixture. Transfer lamb to a large sealable plastic bag and seal bag, pressing out excess air. Marinate lamb, chilled, at least 8 hours or overnight.

About 1 hour before you're ready to cook, remove the ribs from the fridge and allow to come to room temperature.

Put oven rack in middle position and preheat oven to 350°F.
Transfer lamb to a 17- by 12-inch heavy shallow baking pan and cover pan tightly with foil, then bake 1 1/4 hours.

Meanwhile, stir together marmalade, vinegar, and remaining 1/2 teaspoon cayenne and 1/2 teaspoon salt in a 1-quart heavy saucepan and bring to a simmer, stirring occasionally.

Discard foil from lamb and carefully pour off and discard fat from pan. Brush lamb with some of marmalade glaze and roast, basting every 10 minutes (use all of glaze) and turning racks over every 20 minutes, until browned and tender, about 1 hour. Cut racks into individual ribs.

classically classic apple pie

2010-03-30T11:36:00.003-04:00

I've been working on my pie crust lately, due to a tub of wonderful leaf lard that came at the end of our pork CSA. I think I've found the perfect balance of high fat European butter and lard. Flaky layers of delicate crust, it never gets too hard, but holds it's shape well. It's my favorite crust ever.

So what is the perfect pie with which to test out your crust? Something utterly classic, simple, and dependable - apple pie. And not my usual sour cream walnut apple pie, but the truly classic straight apple pie with spices and a touch of lemon juice and not much else.

I've made dozens and dozens of fruit pies before, and I've often come across the same problem of excess moisture and an unwillingness for the filling to set up. The key to avoiding this problem is to pre-cook your filling, and with apples it really can't be simpler. Just saute until starting to soften, spread out on a baking sheet to cool down, then fill. You end up with a sturdy apple pie that cuts well even while still warm. Serve with some vanilla ice cream if you like, but I'll be honest, it didn't even need it. Recipe after the jump:

MY BEST PIE CRUST
Makes enough for a 2-crust 9-inch pie.
2 1/2 cups all-purpose flour
1/2 teaspoon salt
12 tablespoons unsalted butter, preferably a high-fat, European-style butter like Plugra, chilled and cut into 1/2-inch pieces
8 tablespoons leaf lard, chilled
2 to 5 tablespoons ice water

1. In a food processor, briefly pulse together the flour and salt. Add butter and pulse until mixture forms chickpea-size pieces (3 to 5 one-second pulses). Add ice water 1 tablespoon at a time, and pulse until mixture is just moist enough to hold together.
2. Form dough into a ball, wrap with plastic and flatten into a disk. Refrigerate at least 1 hour before rolling out and baking.

SUPER CLASSIC APPLE PIE

3 pounds apples (6 to 8 medium-large. I use a combo of sweet and tart, like Empire and Granny Smith)
3 tablespoons unsalted butter
3/4 cup sugar
1/2 teaspoon ground cinnamon
1/8 teaspoon freshly ground cinnamon
pinch ground clove
1/8 teaspoon salt
1 tbsp lemon juice (optional. If your apples are very tart, leave it out)
1 tsp pure vanilla extract

Melt butter in a very wide skillet or pot over high heat until sizzling and fragrant. Add the apples and toss until glazed with butter. Reduce the heat to medium, cover tightly, and cook, stirring frequently, until the apples are softened on the outside but still slightly crunchy, 5 to 7 minutes. Add the sugar, spices, lemon juice, and salt.

Increase the heat to high and cook the apples at a rapid boil until the juices become thick and syrupy, about 3 minutes. Stir in the vanilla extract. Immediately spread the apples in a thin layer on a baking sheet, and let them cool to room temperature.

Position a rack in the lower third of the oven. Preheat the oven to 350°F. Pour the apple mixture into the bottom crust. Cover with a pricked or vented top crust or a lattice. Bake until the crust is richly browned and the filling has begun to bubble, 30 to 40 minutes. Let cool completely on a rack, 3 to 4 hours.

the velveteen chicken

2010-03-25T14:26:00.001-04:00

Complete and total comfort food. And one of those odd recipes that doesn't necessarily sound like it will work. The majority of the "cooking time" for this chicken recipe involves no actual heat.

And does it really feel like velvet? Yes, actually, it really does. Smooth and not at all stringy, super moist and flavorful. I even used some of the poaching liquid to saute baby bok choy for a perfect homestyle cozy dinner.

VELVET CHICKEN

1 3-pound chicken, rinsed and dried
4 cups low-sodium chicken broth (low sodium)
1 cup dark soy sauce
1 cup Chinese rice wine (preferably Shaoxing)
1/4 cup packed brown sugar
1 bunch scallion, cut into 3-inch pieces
2 inches ginger, peeled and sliced 1/4-inch thick
4 strips of orange zest
1 tablespoon salt
3 whole cloves
2 whole star anise
1 dried red chile
1 teaspoon Sichuan peppercorns
Chopped cilantro

Add everything except the chicken and the cilantro to a large pot. Bring to a boil. Carefully lower the chicken in breast side down. Immediately reduce heat to a simmer. Cover the pot and cook for 15 minutes.

Turn off the heat and don't touch the pot for 30 minutes. Then flip the bird over, cover, and let sit for another 15 minutes.

Remove the chicken. Break down into legs, thighs, wings, and breasts and arrange on a platter. Pour some of the poaching liquid on top of the chicken and garnish with cilantro.

a bit of counteraction

2010-03-25T13:47:00.002-04:00

Alert! I don't just eat all day!

I run. And I'm running this June in the American Heart Association's Wall Street Run/Walk.

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the definition of "intoxicating aroma"

2010-03-15T17:26:00.001-04:00

With the sad, sad end of our 12-week pork CSA, it's time to give a little attention to some other delicious animals. This week we're eating some lamb. A lot of lamb. I made this sweet and savory Lamb and Apricot Tagine a few days ago, and J-Cat followed that up with sweet and spicy Lamb Ribs last night. You'll be seeing those soon, but for now, what is better with lamb than tangy sweet apricots?

Add the crunch of sliced almonds, the warmth of cinnamon and cumin, the ultimate aroma of coziness bubbling away in the oven. I don't have a true tagine pot, this recipe can easily be made in a good heavy dutch oven. Served simply over some plain cous cous, we were swooning on a chilly, rainy night.

LAMB TAGINE WITH APRICOTS AND ALMONDS
Adapted from In the Kitchen and On the Road with Dorie

2 cups chicken broth
1/4 pound moist, plump dried Turkish apricots
6 tablespoons olive oil
1 3/4 pounds boneless lamb shoulder, fat removed, cut into 1-inch cubes
4 medium onions, peeled, trimmed and chopped
4 cloves of garlic, peeled, trimmed, and finely chopped
One 14 1/2 - ounce can diced tomatoes, drained
2 teaspoons ground coriander seed
2 pinches saffron
1/2 teaspoon finely grated fresh ginger
1/2 teaspoon ground cumin
1/4 teaspoon cinnamon
About 1/4 cup chopped cilantro leaves
1/2 cup toasted sliced almonds
Salt and freshly ground pepper

Couscous or rice, for serving.

Center a rack in the oven and preheat the oven to 325 degrees F.

Bring chicken broth to a boil in a small pot, turn off heat, and add apricots to the pot and let them soak and plump while you prepare the rest of the tagine.

Put the base of a tagine, a heavy, high-sided skillet or a Dutch oven over medium-high heat and pour in 3 tablespoons of the oil. Pat the pieces of lamb dry between sheets of paper towels, then drop them into the hot oil - don't crowd the pan; work in batches, if necessary - and brown the meat on all sides, about 4 minutes. Lift the meat out of the pot and onto a plate with a slotted spoon. Season the lamb with salt and pepper. Pour out the fat that it's in the pan, but leave whatever bits may have stuck to the base.

Return the pan to the stove, adjust the heat to low and add 2 more tablespoons of the olive oil. When the oil is warm, add the onions and garlic and cook, stirring, for about 5 minutes, just to get them started on the road to softening. Add the tomatoes, season with salt and pepper, and continue to cook, stirring often, for another 10 minutes, adding a little more oil, if needed. Add the chicken bouillon/broth to the pot as well as the coriander, saffron - crush the saffron between your fingers as you sprinkle it into the pot - ginger, cumin, cinnamon and 2 tablespoons of the chopped cilantro leaves. Stir to mix and dissolve the spices, season with salt and pepper and spoon the meat over the base of vegetables. Top with the plumped apricots, seal the pan with aluminum foil and clap on the lid. Slide the pan into the oven.

Bake the tagine for 60 minutes before carefully lifting the lid and foil and scattering the almonds over the meat. Recover the pan and allow the tagine to bake for 15 minutes more. Serve over cous cous or rice, topped with chopped cilantro.

ante up: a new kind of chip

2010-03-08T13:47:00.000-05:00

I never really spent time contemplating the chocolate chip cookie. I have my moments when I enjoy them - hot and melty right out of the oven, or Chips Ahoy soaked through with milk, or the giant deli ones with chips stuck all over the top - but they were never on the top of my cookie list. Despite my relative disinterest in the classic treat, I was definitely intrigued upon reading this article (a while ago) in the New York Times about the quest for the ultimate chocolate chip cookie. Even though I'm not a die-hard chocolate chip cookie fan, that article made my mouth water.

Well, as luck would have it, the very shop that the recipe in this article is based on - the very chocolate they recommend - is right downstairs from my office. The new Jacques Torres Shop in Chelsea Market is a dangerous thing, because even though I've always said I'm not a huge chocolate lover, if there is one way to make me want to eat chocolate it would be to open the best chocolate shop in town literally under my nose. The recipe calls for their dark chocolate wafers; flat round disks of chocolate about the diameter of a silver dollar. In place of the classic chip, these wafers melt to create amazing thin chocolate strata all throughout the cookie. You get a bit of melty chocolate in every bite, rather than a disproportionate hunk.

And then, the pièce de résistance, the salt. The salt not only within the batter itself, but the flaky sea salt sprinkled on top of the cookies. The salt that makes the chocolate taste chocolatier, the cookie taste cookier. Salt on desserts, one of my favorite things. Find the recipe HERE.

get in my belly, belly

2010-03-01T12:50:00.000-05:00

I daydream about ramen. I based our vacation destination decision this year on my love of ramen (Tokyo & Kyoto). I waited for a table at Ippudo for over an hour, and I wait for nothing for that long. So give me a hunk of pork belly, and there is not really any debate over what I'm going to do with it.

I'm going to braise that sucker - in soy and cinnamon and anise and maple syrup - until the aroma is driving me insane.

Then I'm going to slice it up, and lay it on top of a giant bowl of shoyu ramen, and let J-Cat think I'm listening to him tell me about his day of snowboarding while really I'm swimming in a delicious sea of porky ramen. And I can't hear much beyond a muffle when I'm under the ramen sea. Recipe after the jump:

SWEET SOY BRAISED PORK BELLY

2 tablespoons vegetable oil
2 tablespoons sugar
1 pound boneless pork belly, cut in three equal-sized pieces
1/4 cup soy sauce
3 tbsps maple syrup
2 sticks cinnamon
2 whole star anise
3 allspice berries
3 1/3-inch slices peeled fresh ginger
3 cloves garlic, peeled
1 1/2 teaspoons salt
Water

1. In a large Dutch oven or wok, heat oil and sugar over medium-high heat, swirling pot until sugar liquefies and turns a warm amber color.

2. Place pork belly slices in wok and sear on all sides, about 1 minute per side, using tongs to turn.

3. Pour enough cold water into vessel to cover the pork. Add soy sauce, maple syrup, spices, ginger, garlic, and salt. Bring to a boil and skim any scum that rises to the surface. Reduce heat to low and simmer, uncovered, for 3-4 hours, until pork is very tender and fat is easily penetrated with a spoon. If water level falls during cooking, replenish so that pork remains submerged.

4. Remove pork belly and set aside. Strain solids from braising liquid and return liquid to pan. Over high heat, reduce until lightly thickened and glossy. Adjust seasoning if necessary.

5. Slice pork into 1/4-inch thick slices. Lightly coat in reduced braising sauce. Serve atop ramen, or in steam mantou with sliced scallions and hoisin sauce.

Note: It often crack the shell on a hard-boiled egg and add it to the braise to get the lovely spiderweb soy eggs. This is an especially good addition if you are eating the pork belly atop ramen.

faycat and j-cat cook: romantic pork cheeks and gnocchi

2010-02-26T13:23:00.003-05:00

I cook him meat. He cooks me carbs. I knew we were meant to be. This Valentine's Day, J-Cat and I decided on a collaborative dinner, which really is more romantic than any meal we've had on previous Valentine's Days, even if we never bothered setting a table or, um, turning off the TV to eat it.

And is there a more romantic cut of meat than pork cheeks? Pork Cheeks is going to be my new pet name for J-Cat. And gnocchi. That's a sweet word, too. So here I give you - Pork Cheek Ragu with Truffled Polenta Gnocchi.

I got a couple pork cheeks with our pork CSA, which made me decide on the pork cheek ragu. But I only had two cheek medallions, so I went up to my friendly neighborhood totally awesome butcher and asked for some more. They very kindly pulled some pig heads out of the walk in and sliced them off for me. Now that's romantic!

And the gnocchi. Well, J-Cat has lately been OBSESSED with gnocchi. Cooking it, not just eating it. He made gnocchi three times in two weeks. Mostly he was focusing on gnudi, the riccota-based gnocchi, so I thought this would be a nice change. The polenta gnocchi had a lovely grainy texture and were delightfully crisp from a pan saute. The addition of a splash of truffle oil in the dough brought the indulgence to a new level.

This recipe tasted luxurious, rich, and so so savory, but was actually the ultimate in rustic, inexpensive peasant food. The pork cheeks (a very affordable and tasty cut) cooked low and slow and fell apart into deeply flavorful, tender chunks. Set atop the crisp truffled gnocchi, this dish was everything you want in comfort food, with a bit of a fancy twist. And yes, that is one giant bowl that we both ate out of. Awwww.

PORK CHEEK RAGU WITH TRUFFLED POLENTA GNOCCHI
Adapted from a recipe by Chef Travis Hyde, Z Cucina Ristorante, Columbus, OH.

Gnocchi:
1½ cups semolina
1½ cups cornmeal
2 cups chicken stock
2 cups milk
1 Tbsp. truffle oil
to taste, salt and pepper

Pork Cheek Ragu:
1 medium sweet onion, julienne
1 Tbsp. garlic, chopped
1 Tbsp. fresh thyme, chopped
2 tsp. fresh oregano, chopped
2 Tbsp. red wine vinegar
1 lb. pork cheek medallions
10 cremini mushrooms, quartered
1½ cups chianti wine
1 28-ounce can whole peeled tomatoes, preferably San Marzano
2 Tbsp. extra virgin olive oil
to taste, salt and pepper
to garnish, Parmesan cheese

For gnocchi: Combine cornmeal and semolina. Bring liquids to a simmer and add truffle oil to bloom flavor; add seasoning. Slowly whisk in dry mix until completely incorporated and mix until it begins to pull away from sides of pan. Pour onto tabletop surface dusted with semolina to prevent sticking. Allow to cool for 10 minutes until you can work with it. (The warmer the polenta, the easier to roll out cylinders to cut gnocchi.) Sprinkle a baseball-size piece of polenta with semolina and roll into a cylinder about ¾" diameter. Cut into ½" pieces and dust with semolina before placing on parchment-covered sheet pan.

For pork cheek ragu: Sweat the onion in 1 Tbsp. oil until tender. Add garlic and bloom. Season, then add cheeks and raise heat to caramelize them a little, along with onions. Add vinegar and allow to reduce by half. Add wine, tomatoes, herbs and mushrooms; reduce heat to medium low and allow to simmer for 1 hour. Cook until pork cheeks just start to fall apart. Season with salt and pepper and mix in last Tbsp. oil.

To compose dish: Heat extra virgin olive oil to medium high; add gnocchi, making sure to coat in oil so they do not stick to pan. Allow to brown and crisp on sides; toss for 4-5 minutes on heat. Pull off heat and place in bowl. Ladle ragu over gnocchi and sprinkle with shaved Parmesan. Drizzle with extra virgin olive oil if desired.

j-cat cooks: jinese surprise

2010-02-15T13:17:00.000-05:00

A few months ago when we were up in Rockland visiting his sister, J-Cat and I went into one of our favorite bagel places from when we were growing up. He pointed out something called a Chinese cookie, which for some reason I have never had. I had no idea that it was called that. It was always in the cookie case at every Jewish deli right next to the giant cookie with the chocolate chips stuck in the top, which was what I always got. Great big yellow cookie with a dollop of chocolate right in the middle. "What is remotely Chinese about that?" I asked. He had no idea. Until he tasted the Chinese Almond Cookies we made this weekend. I took a bite and said "My childhood!". And J-Cat took a bite and said "What? That's my childhood, too!". And there you have it, a surprise Jinese food.

I had found this recipe on Simply Recipes a couple of weeks ago, in anticipation of Chinese New Year. I took one look and said "I want that". And J-Cat said "I want to make those for you". And let me say, I wasn't sure they'd really come out like the Chinatown cookie I grew up on, but they really did. It completely surpassed my expectations. And they are incredibly addictive.

For most of the batch, J-Cat made the traditional sized cookie, but he also really wanted to recreate that Jewish Deli Chinese Cookie. So here he is sitting on the floor staring into the oven watching his giant almond cookie bake. Recipe after the jump:

CHINESE ALMOND COOKIES
From Simply Recipes

1 1/3 cups of almond flour, lightly packed
1 cup of unsalted butter, chilled and cut into cubes
Pinch of kosher salt
2 eggs
1 teaspoon of almond extract
1 3/4 cups of flour
1 cup + 2 tablespoons of sugar
1/2 teaspoon of baking soda
Thinly sliced almonds

Place the almond flour, salt, and butter into an electric beater with a paddle attachment and beat on medium speed for three minutes. The mixture will become course and chunky looking.

Add one of the eggs, reserving the other for later, and the almond extract. Mix on low speed until just incorporated.

Sift together the flour, sugar, and baking soda then add to the butter mixture at low speed. Mix until just combined.

Take the dough and flatten it into a disc and wrap in plastic wrap. Place it in the refrigerator for two hours to chill.

Preheat the oven to 325F. Line a baking sheet with parchment paper. Place the other egg into a bowl and beat it.

Take pieces of dough and roll them into balls about a half-inch wide. Place them on the sheet about and inch apart and then press them down slightly with your palm to make a coin shape.

Place a slivered almond onto each cookie and lightly press it into place, then paint the surface of the cookie with some of the beaten egg using a pastry brush or your finger (this will give the cookie a lacquered appearance once it bakes).

Bake for 13-15 minutes or until the edges just being to tan. Cool on the sheet on a wire rack.

Makes 5 dozen.

buttermilk pie, sans diabetes

2010-02-05T11:55:00.000-05:00

On paper, this pie sounds like a toothache. It's a traditional Southern dessert, so you know it must be crazy sweet. I worried it would approach momofuku-milk-bar-crack-pie levels of sweet, which quite literally gives me an instant headache and makes me shiver. But then I came across this recipe on NPR with alternative measurements for a less-sweet version. Call me a wuss, but I'm drawn to the idea of buttermilk pie because of the creamy custardy tanginess, and I just don't need killer sweetness to cover it all up.

And it was a good call. I got my creamy custardy tanginess, a simple, wonderfully satisfying pie, and we didn't make faces at the sweetness level. This one is a winner, except for the danger associated with how much of it we can eat in one sitting. Recipe after the jump:

BUTTERMILK PIE
From the recipe by Natalie Moore on npr.org

4 eggs
1 cup sugar
2 tablespoons flour, plus a little for dusting
1/2 cup melted butter
1 1/2 cups buttermilk
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
1 unbaked 9-inch pie shell

Preheat oven to 325 degrees.

Beat eggs slightly and add sugar and flour. Then add melted butter and mix well. Add buttermilk and vanilla and mix.

Dust the unbaked pie shell with a little bit of flour. Pour batter into shell, and then sprinkle a little more flour on top.

Bake at 325 degrees until the custard is set, approximately 1 hour.

carrrrrrnitas baby

2010-01-27T11:01:00.000-05:00

Week 6 of our porkilicious CSA brought me a 3.7 lb boston butt with a glorious fat cap and marbling throughout. I took one look at that chunk of meat (the approximate current weight of Christine's baby bump, as we were discussing last night)and thought about how perfect it would be all chunked up with crisped, caramelized edges, doused in salsa and crema and wrapped in soft corn tortillas. The carnitas cooked for about 3 hours, exuding an intensely incredible porky aroma, apparently all through the 4th floor of our building. But the amazing thing about these carnitas is that you just leave them there to cook and DO NOTHING. They go from pink, to brown, to crispy brown, to heaven, and you barely even touch them. MAGICAL.

The roasted tomatillo salsa was pretty damn easy, too, and the perfect tangy, fresh accompaniment. Recipes after the jump:

HOUSTON-STYLE CARNITAS
Adapted from Homesick Texan

Ingredients:
3 pounds of pork butt
1 cup of orange juice
3 cups of water
2 teaspoons of salt

Method:
1. Cut pork into strips (three inches by one inch), add to a large pot with the liquids and salt. Bring to a boil and then simmer uncovered on low for 2 hours. Do not touch the meat.
2. After two hours, turn heat up to medium high, and continue to cook until all the liquid has evaporated and the pork fat has rendered (about 30 minutes). Stir a few times, to keep pork from sticking to bottom of pan.
3. When pork has browned on both sides, it’s ready (there will be liquid fat in the pan). Serve either cubed or shredded (pork will be tender enough that just touching it will cause it to fall apart). Serve as soft tacos with soft corn tortillas, green salsa (recipe to follow), crema, sliced radishes, chopped fresh cilantro, and a squeeze of fresh lime juice.
Serves 4-6

ROASTED TOMATILLO SALSA

1 1/2 lb tomatillos
1/2 cup chopped white onion
1/2 cup cilantro leaves
1 Tbsp fresh lime juice
1/4 teaspoon sugar
3 Jalapeño peppers
Salt to taste

Remove papery husks from tomatillos and rinse well to remove some of the stickiness.
Cut in half and place cut side down on a foil-lined baking sheet. Place under a broiler for about 7-10 minutes to lightly blacken the skin.

Place tomatillos, lime juice, onions, cilantro, jalapenos, and sugar in a food processor (or blender) and pulse until all ingredients are finely chopped and mixed. Season to taste with salt. Cool in refrigerator.

Makes 3 cups.

the relief of pasta: pappardelle with lamb ragu

2010-01-19T13:47:00.001-05:00

It should come as no surprise that as soon as our stove top was turned on, the first thing I NEEDED to cook was pasta. I was dying for pasta. I can't even believe that I went as long as I did without pasta, but the rice I was eating every day was reminiscent of my childhood, so I made it through. The stove finally got turned on right as the really cold weather hit, so I needed to focus on warm, filling, gutsy food, and preferably something that would give me an excuse to go up to my new cute local butcher. Mmmmm meat.

I wanted a meaty ragu of some sort. I've done ragus with duck, rabbit, beef, veal, but strangely enough I've never made any with lamb. I found this recipe from Andrew Carmellini, who I love, and was excited by some of his simple but different touches. Fennel seed, coriander, cumin, a touch of fresh mint to finish. The result was a deeply umami sauce that was perfect for a cold winter night, and it was really simple to put together. Recipe after the jump:

ANDREW CARMELLINI'S LAMB RAGU WITH PAPPARDELLE
From Food & Wine Magazine

3 tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil
1 carrot, finely diced
1 onion, finely diced
1 celery rib, finely diced
1 1/2 pounds ground lamb
2 teaspoons ground coriander
1 teaspoon ground fennel seeds
1/2 teaspoon ground cumin
1 teaspoon chopped rosemary
1 teaspoon chopped thyme
Salt and freshly ground pepper
1 tablespoon tomato paste
1/2 cup dry red wine
One 28-ounce can diced tomatoes
1 1/4 cups chicken stock or low-sodium broth
3/4 pound fresh pappardelle
1 tablespoon unsalted butter
3/4 cup fresh ricotta cheese
2 tbsp chopped mint

1. In a large cast-iron casserole, heat 2 tablespoons of the oil. Add the carrot, onion and celery and cook over high heat, stirring occasionally, until slightly softened, 5 minutes. Add the lamb, coriander, fennel, cumin, rosemary and thyme; season with salt and pepper. Cook, stirring, until the liquid evaporates, 5 minutes. Stir in the tomato paste. Add the wine and cook until evaporated, 5 minutes. Add the tomatoes and their juices, along with the stock and bring to a boil. Cover partially and cook over moderately low heat until the liquid is slightly reduced, 25 to 30 minutes.
2. In a large pot of boiling salted water, cook the pasta until al dente. Drain, shaking well. Add the pasta to the sauce. Add the butter and the remaining 1 tablespoon of oil and toss over low heat. Serve the pasta in bowls, topped with the ricotta and mint.

we have a stove!

2010-01-03T16:30:00.000-05:00

It FINALLY got turned on just days before Christmas. Merry Christmas to me! And boy, it is a great stove. I was really quite stunned with how quickly a big pot of water came to a boil. Because of course the first thing I cooked was pasta. Can you believe how long I went without making pasta?

Anyway, that pasta post will be coming along shortly, but until then, here is my last no stove post, an oven-roasted lemon chicken with fennel.

This one couldn't be any easier, it just takes a bit of planning ahead because of course, the longer you can let these babies marinate the better. If you can remember to whip up the marinade and get this in the fridge one night, then the next evening you have a super simple and delicious dinner with no effort at all. Recipe after the jump:

ROASTED LEMON CHICKEN WITH FENNEL

2 bone-in skin-on chicken breasts
2/3 cup fresh lemon juice
2 tablespoons dijon mustard
1/3 cup extra virgin olive oil
salt and freshly cracker pepper
1 large fennel bulb

Generously salt and pepper the chicken breasts and place in a baking dish. Whisk together the lemon juice, mustard, oil, salt and pepper. Pour half of the marinade over the chicken, cover with plastic wrap, and refrigerate for 2 hours or up to 24 hours.

Preheat oven to 350 degree. Trim, core and quarter the fennel bulb and scatter in the baking pan with the chicken. Roast the chicken breasts skin side up for 35-40 minutes until golden brown and juices run clear. Pour the remaining marinade over the chicken, cover with foil, and let rest for 10 minutes before serving.

delicious christmas

2009-12-28T11:02:00.001-05:00

Pretty loaves all in a row.

It should come as no surprise to any who know me that majority of the presents I both give and receive at the holidays are food-based. I also have a thing for homemade presents, whether edible or just delicious-looking. This year, Christmas for my family was a little homemade box of breakfast treats, perhaps a bit less ambitious than my original plan, but satisfying to give nonetheless.

A festive box, tied up in green ribbon, with two tasty loaves and two tiny jars. The loaves - lemon poppyseed and cranberry walnut; the jars - honey butter and vanilla cream cheese. Unfortunately, since my stove was only turned on two days before Christmas, (Merry Christmas to me!) my plan for some homemade orange marmalade didn't come through. Well, there's always next year.

And of course, for the receiving. Not just one, but two people gave me knives this year. A really cool Kyocera ceramic paring knife from Brother #2. I've always wanted a ceramic knife. And these beauties from my honey J-Cat; knives more lovely than I ever thought I'd own. A 3-piece set of Shun Classic knives. So pretty that I hardly dare to use them, except that I want to use them on anything and everything. Dicing onions is a dream.

And of course, as always the very best thing under the tree has her own set of knives built in, and can do plenty of slicing and dicing if provoked.

Happy Holidays to all, and to all two recipes for bread after the jump!

LEMON POPPY SEED BREAD
Adapted from Joyofbaking.com

3 large eggs
1 1/2 teaspoon pure vanilla extract
1/4 cup milk
1 1/2 cups all-purpose flour, sifted
3/4 cup granulated white sugar
1 teaspoon baking powder
1/4 teaspoon salt
1 tablespoon grated lemon zest
3 tablespoons poppy seeds
13 tablespoons unsalted butter, softened

Lemon Syrup:
1/4 cup fresh lemon juice
1/3 cup granulated white sugar

Preheat oven to 350 degrees F and place the oven rack in the center of the oven. Butter and flour (or spray with a non stick vegetable/flour spray) the bottom and sides of 4 1/4-lb mini loaf pans. If the pans are not disposisble, line the bottom of the pans with parchment paper and butter and flour the paper. Set aside.

In a separate bowl, whisk together the eggs, vanilla extract, and milk. Set aside.

In the bowl of your electric mixer, or with a hand mixer, beat the flour, sugar, baking powder, salt, lemon zest, and poppy seeds until combined. Add the softened butter and half the egg mixture and mix on low speed until moistened. Increase the speed to medium and beat for about one minute. Scrape down the sides of the bowl and add the remaining egg mixture in two batches, beating about 30 seconds after each addition.

Scrape the batter into the prepared pans and bake for about 35-40 minutes, or until the bread is golden brown and a toothpick inserted in the center comes out clean. You may have to cover the bread with buttered foil after about 30 minutes if you find the bread over browning.

Meanwhile, in a small saucepan, bring the sugar and lemon juice to a boil, stirring until the sugar dissolves.

When the bread is done, remove from oven and place on a wire rack. Pierce the hot loaves all over with a wooden skewer or toothpick and then brush the top of the loaves with the hot lemon syrup. Store at least overnight before serving to allow the lemon syrup to distribute throughout the loaf.

Makes 4 mini loaves.

CRANBERRY WALNUT BREAD
From SFGate.com, November 29, 2009

Non-stick cooking spray
4 cups cranberries
2/3 cup fresh orange juice (about 2 large oranges)
1 1/2 cups low-fat buttermilk
2 eggs
6 tablespoons unsalted butter, melted
2 cups whole wheat flour
2 cups all-purpose white flour
2 cups sugar
2 teaspoons baking powder
1 teaspoon baking soda
2 1/2 teaspoons salt
1/2 teaspoon cinnamon
1/2 teaspoon cardamom
1 cup roughly chopped walnuts

Topping
1/2 teaspoon cinnamon
1/2 teaspoon cardamom
1 tablespoon sugar

Instructions: Preheat oven to 375°. Coat 6 mini or 2 regular size loaf pans with non-stick cooking spray.

Coarsely chop 1 1/2 cups of the cranberries by hand or in a food processor; set aside.

In a medium bowl, whisk together the orange juice, buttermilk and eggs. Whisk in the melted butter.

In a separate large bowl, combine the whole wheat flour, all-purpose flour, sugar, baking powder, baking soda, salt, cinnamon and cardamom. Stir with a fork until thoroughly mixed.

Add the liquid ingredients to the dry ingredients and gently fold together with a rubber spatula until just combined; do not over mix. Gently add the whole and chopped cranberries and walnuts. Mix just enough to distribute them throughout the batter.

Divide the batter evenly between the loaf pans. Prepare the topping by mixing the cinnamon, cardamom and sugar in a bowl; sprinkle over the top of the loaves.

Bake until a tester inserted in the center comes out clean - 30 to 35 minutes for mini loaves, about 45 to 50 minutes for standard loaves. Let cool on a wire rack.

piggery

2009-12-21T10:49:00.000-05:00

J-Cat and I have bought into a pork CSA that we are splitting with Bosslady from an upstate pig farm called The Piggery. We bought a quarter hog share and get tasty piggy delights every week for 3 months. It's kind of like Christmas every Thursday evening when I rip open the box and find out what we'll be stuffing that night. Sausages, bacon, ham, spare ribs, pork chops, and my personal favorites - terrine, rillettes and pates. I am rather lucky that Bosslady is not into the potted meat family, I get all of that good stuff. Jars of cornichons are now a constant in my fridge.

Splitting the share has also brought about some interesting behavior. Last week I found myself planning a pork handoff on a subway platform to Mr. Bosslady when Bosslady wasn't going to be in the office. I handed him a bag with about 3 pounds of pork products and he got right back on the train. The swine has landed, handoff successful.

holiday spice

2009-12-15T11:02:00.000-05:00

Oh hai. I'm back. I still have no stove, but I do have an oven. So when Bosslady decided that we should have 12 days of cookies in the office I was happy to say that I could actually participate despite my partially crippled kitchen.

I decided to use my colleagues - who really, will eat pretty much anything as long as it's free - as guinea pigs for a little cookie experimenting. I've been wanting to play around with some fun flavors and spices for the holidays and here was my opportunity. The best base to play around with is, in my opinion, the simple shortbread cookie. Perhaps that is because it is my favorite kind of cookie. 90% butter.

One flavor combination that has been floating around in my head is inspired by the Indian ice cream Kulfi. Pistachio, cardamom, and a touch of rose. Now, both cardamom and rose are rather strong flavors that are perhaps less familiar to the average American palate. So I was a little conservative with my amounts, and found myself wanting much deeper flavor. Next time, I think I can even double the amounts of both and still not go overboard, but of course it's a matter of taste.

But nevertheless, I started to worry that my strange cookie experiments would disappoint my colleagues, who just want some holiday cookies. So I made a second batch of shortbread, this time with a somewhat more straightforward flavor - Earl Grey Tea. This is a recipe from my good friend Claire, and when she made this in season 1 of her show, I took home as many as possible. Addictive. The touch of citrus, the smokiness of tea, it is a perfect balance of flavors.

Shortbread is such an easy cookie to play around with, you'll see with these recipes how easy it is to swap out flavors and try something new. Plus, making these in the slice and bake style means you can actually whip up the dough days ahead of time and keep the logs in the freezer until you're ready to bake. And with a food processor the dough itself is the work of minutes. Now there are no excuses, you can't resort to buying pre-made cookie dough any more. Recipes after the jump:

PISTACHIO CARDAMOM ROSE SHORTBREAD

1/2 cup shelled pistachios
2 cups flour
1/2 teaspoon salt
1 teaspoon freshly ground cardamom (if using pre-ground you may want to increase this amount to a heaping teaspoon)
3/4 cup confectioner's sugar
2 teaspoons rosewater
1 cup (2 sticks) unsalted butter, room temperature

In a food processor, process the pistachios into small pieces. You don't want to process too long if you like some bits of pistachio in the finished product. Add the flour, salt, and cardamom and pulse until well combined. Add the sugar, rosewater, and butter and pulse just until the dough comes together. Turn dough out on to a sheet of plastic wrap and shape into a log about 2 inches in diameter. Wrap well and store in the fridge for an hour until firm. You can also store in the freezer for a few days.

Preheat the oven to 375 degrees. Remove the chilled dough from the fridge and slice into 1/4 inch rounds. Place on a parchment lined sheet pan about 2 inches apart. Bake for 12-14 minutes until just starting to brown around the edges. Cool on the pan for 5 minutes, then transfer to a rack to cool completely. Dust with powdered sugar if desired.

EARL GREY SHORTBREAD
Recipe 5 Ingredient Fix with Claire Robinson

2 cups all-purpose flour
2 tablespoons loose Earl Grey tea leaves
1/2 teaspoon salt
3/4 cup confectioners' sugar
1 teaspoon pure vanilla extract
1 cup (2 sticks) unsalted butter, room temperature

In a food processor, pulse together the flour, tea, and salt, until the tea is just spotted throughout the flour. Add the confectioners' sugar, vanilla, and butter. Pulse together just until a dough is formed. Place dough on a sheet of plastic wrap, and roll into a log, about 2 1/2-inches in diameter. Tightly twist each end of wrap, and chill in refrigerator for 30 minutes.

Preheat oven to 375 degrees F.

Slice the log into 1/4-inch thick disks. Place on parchment or silpat lined baking sheets, 2 inches apart (2 probably needed depending on size of sheets). Bake until the edges are just brown, about 12 minutes. Let cool on sheets for 5 minutes, then transfer to wire racks and cool to room temperature.

battle no stove

2009-12-03T11:13:00.002-05:00

No, seriously. I still have no stove. One month and counting. But no, this doesn't mean I'm not cooking. Granted, I'm not really cooking anything new and exciting. I think in this time of endless apartment frustration, I'm turning to some of my old favorites and amping up the comfort factor. Here are some of my favorite recipes that require no stove - turn on the oven, break out the slow cooker, you might even dust off the microwave.

Slow Cooker Split Pea Soup
Slow Cooker Chicken Adobo
Oven-Baked BBQ Brisket
Remy's Ratatouille
No-Fry Eggplant Parmesan

And then, of course, there's all those desserts...

oh sad day

2009-11-13T14:25:00.000-05:00

I've disappeared, I know. We moved. We moved into a half finished apartment with no gas. We have no stove. But we have an oven. And we have a slow cooker and a rice cooker and an electric kettle and a microwave. And we live closer to the arepas place so now we can get delivery from them. But it's really hard to live without a stove, because I used to eat this every morning for breakfast and now I can't:

It's just a simple oatmeal, with dried cherries and sliced almonds. So simple, so easy, but so impossible without a stove. I have packets of instant oatmeal, but it's not the same. Oh, sad day. When will my gas come on?

in season: hide the cauliflower

2009-10-26T16:52:00.001-04:00

That's not a particularly attractive dish right there. But it's one of those special recipes with hidden surprises. It is perfect fall food in several ways. Cauliflower is at it's best right now, and nothing is more warming and yummy on a chilly autumn day than a bowl of steamy, creamy risotto. This is a cauliflower and leek risotto. You can't really see the cauliflower hiding amidst the rice, but you take a bite and it bites back, just a tiny bit. Surprise. Need I say more? Recipe after the jump:

CAULIFLOWER LEEK RISOTTO

3 tbsp butter, separated
1 medium leek, chopped into half-moons
1 small head cauliflower, about 1 to 2 lb, cut into small florets
1 cup arborio or carnaroli rice
1 cup dry white wine
4 cups chicken broth (vegetable broth if you prefer this dish vegetarian)
3/4 cup parmiggiano-reggiano, or more to taste
salt and pepper, to taste

Heat the chicken broth in a medium saucepan until boiling, then lower to a low simmer. Melt 2 tbsp butter in a heavy 4-quart pot over medium heat until foam subsides. Add the leeks and cauliflower and saute until just starting to loose the raw color, about 2 minutes. Add the rice and toast, stirring about 1 minute. Add the wine and stir, allowing a strong simmer until the liquid is completely absorbed. Add 1/2 cup broth and repeat the stirring and simmering process. Continue to add broth 1/2 cup at a time, stirring and simmering, until the rice is tender and creamy looking, about 25 minutes. You may not need all of the broth. Remove from the heat, add the cheese, and season with salt and pepper to taste. Serve immediately.

sorry to the swine

2009-10-20T10:59:00.000-04:00

Pardon my absence last week. I had been feeling rather craptacular for several days, and wondered if my commitment to a 16-week quarter hog share with The Piggery CSA resulted in a bit of porcine revenge in the form of swine flu. I don't really know if that is what I had, but it seemed like everyone around me was afflicted and it dragged on and on and on. Anyway, to get back in the cooking saddle, I focused on - what else - bacon. A pasta that truly highlights the smokey, fatty, delicious cured meat - Pasta alla Carbonara. Technically carbonara calls for guanciale, but this is one case where I break from tradition because the bacon-based carbonara is what we in the US grew up on, and thus what I was craving on a very rainy, cold weekend.

Carbonara is pretty much the simplest pasta you can make. It takes no more time that whatever you need to boil your pasta. You may have twinges of guilt when you realize that the entire point of this pasta is egg and bacon fat, but you get over it pretty quickly. I balanced out the richness with some broccolini. Okay, I sauteed that broccolini in the excess bacon fat...recipe after the jump:

PASTA ALLA CARBONARA
Serves 4

1 pound spaghetti
6-8 ounces thick cut good bacon, pancetta, or guanciale, sliced 1/2-inch thick
3 garlic cloves
2 eggs
1/2 cup grated pecorino romano (or parmiggiano reggiano)
freshly ground black pepper

Bring a large pot of salted water to boil for the pasta. As soon as you drop the pasta in, start to saute the bacon pieces and the whole garlic cloves, rendering the fat just until the bacon starts to brown and crisp around the edges. You don't want to get the bacon too crispy or it will not incorporate nicely into the pasta. Remove the garlic cloves and let the bacon sit until the pasta is ready. Break the eggs into your serving bowl and whisk with a generous amount of freshly ground black pepper. When the pasta is done, drain, then immediately transfer to your serving bowl with the eggs and quickly toss to coat the pasta. Add the bacon, it's fat (as much as you need to coat the pasta nicely), and the cheese and toss well. Taste and adjust for pepper. You may not need to add any salt depending on the saltiness of your cheese and bacon. Serve immediately.

french food i DID eat in france: boeuf bourguignon

2009-10-06T10:59:00.000-04:00

Technically J-Cat ate it, for our last dinner in Paris at "Josephine" Chez Dumonet. But obviously I had a few bites. With the weather getting chillier by the day, it's time to break out my favorite types of foods - slow-cooked, hearty, warming, intensely flavored, meaty.

There are thousands of recipes for Boeuf Bourguignon out there, ranging from the straightforward to the excessively complicated. And here is where I am conflicted. I love to make dishes in the most authentic way possible. But I also love simplicity and dislike fussiness. So where to find the balance without sacrificing authenticity? When it comes down to it, a dish like Boeuf Bourguignon just doesn't seem like it should be so complicated. Complex in flavor, yes, but at it's roots a simple, rustic stew. So this recipe by Ginette Mathiot, the "French Julia Child", which was published a few weeks ago in The New York Times, seems to strike a nice balance. Authentic in that it is the version that a French cook would cook in their own home, not the complicated beast of a restaurant version popularized by Julia Child. Both recipes authentic in their own way, and both yielding a more than satisfying result. Recipe after the jump:

BOEUF BOURGUIGNON
Adapted from "I Know How to Cook" by Ginette Mathiot

1 tablespoon oil
3 ounces onions or shallots, chopped
3 1/2 ounces thick-cut bacon, diced
1 1/2 pounds stewing beef, cut into 1 1/2 -inch pieces, patted dry
Scant 1/4 cup flour
1 1/4 cups any type of stock, hot
1 1/4 cups red wine
1 bouquet garni (1 bay leaf, 3 sprigs fresh thyme and 3 sprigs parsley, tied together)
Black pepper
3 1/2 ounces mushrooms, diced
Salt

1. In a heavy pan over medium heat, heat oil. Add onions and bacon and cook, stirring, until browned. Remove them and set aside; leave fat in pan.

2. Add beef and brown on all sides (work in two batches if needed to avoid crowding).

3. Sprinkle browned beef with flour, stir until browned and add stock. Stir, scraping bottom of pan, then add reserved bacon and onions, the wine and bouquet garni. Season with pepper.

4. Simmer very gently for 2 hours.

5. Add mushrooms and cook 30 minutes more. Season with salt and serve. Or, even better, reheat and serve the next day.

Yield: 4 to 6 servings.

in season: italian plum torte

2009-09-29T11:02:00.000-04:00

A recipe so popular that reader demand insured it's publication in The New York Times just about every year between 1983 and 1995. Now this is something that I had to try. It just looks so incredibly simple on paper, could it be so good as to develop this cult-like following?

Well, as I've said over and over, simplicity is often the best insurance that a recipe will be memorable and perfect. And this was the essence of simplicity. It took no time, it took very few ingredients, it took barely any effort, and it seemed like the kind of thing you can't really mess up. But it looks somewhat impressive, and tastes much more complex than it is. The sweet-tart of the plums, the warmth of the cinnamon, the slight crispness of the cake top dusted in sugar. Recipe after the jump:

ITALIAN PLUM TORTE
From The New Elegant But Easy Cookbook, by Marian Burros and Lois Levine.

3/4 cup PLUS 1 or 2 tablespoons sugar
8 tablespoons (1 stick) unsalted butter
1 cup unbleached all-purpose flour, sifted
1 teaspoon baking powder
2 eggs
Pinch salt
24 halves pitted Italian (aka prune or purple) plums
1 teaspoon ground cinnamon, or more
Vanilla ice cream, optional

1. Arrange a rack in the lower third of the oven. Preheat the oven to 350°F.

2. In an electric mixer, cream the 3/4 cup sugar and butter. Add the flour, baking powder, eggs, and salt and beat to mix well. Place in a 9- or 10-inch ungreased springform pan. Cover the top with the plums, skin side down. Mix the cinnamon with the remaining 1 or 2 tablespoons of sugar and sprinkle over the top.

3. Bake for 40 to 50 minutes (mine took a little over 50), until the center tests done with a toothpick. Remove and cool to room temperature or serve warm. Serve plain or with vanilla ice cream.

j-cat cooks: chicken cordon bleu

2009-09-24T10:57:00.000-04:00

J-cat is definitely showing a tendency towards cooking those old-school classic dishes with questionable heritage(Beef Wellington, Chicken Francese, etc.). This time it was Chicken Cordon Bleu, which I must admit I had never eaten before. I probably never ate it because the only places I ever saw it on the menu were diners, where it is not exactly wise to veer from the burger or breakfast realm. But if you think about it, there's no way it could be bad - chicken, prosciutto or ham, gruyere, bread crumbs. I always imagined it would just be layered but J-Cat got all fancy and made it roulade style. I did my best at slicing it to show off the fanciness.

J-Cat does not use single recipes, and he almost immediately forgets what he did, so it's pretty tough for me to post a recipe. But it was pretty straight forward - pound out chicken breast, layer prosciutto slice, layer gruyere slice, roll it up, do the flour, egg, panko bread crumb breading process, bake, yum.

french food i did not eat in france: coq au vin

2009-09-16T11:41:00.001-04:00

The French seem to really love their chicken. I was just craving some homey, classic, filling food as the weather starts cooling down. Coq au vin really hit the spot. Now, I did not have a rooster for this dish, so there is a disclaimer that this is not completely authentic.

I also didn't marinate the chicken in the wine before cooking, which many recipes call for. I think I might try that next time to see how much of a difference it makes, but I did not think this version was lacking flavor at all. In fact, the intensity of the wine and mushroom flavor - set off by the sweet pearl onions and the salty bacon - was really perfect for my taste. I almost felt like we were back in Paris, and it prompted J-Cat to say that he wants to do that whole trip over again, with more foods. Recipe after the jump:

COQ AU VIN
Adapted from Simply Recipes

1/2 lb bacon slices
20 pearl onions, peeled (blanch in boiling water to ease peeling)
3 lbs chicken thighs and legs, excess fat trimmed, skin ON
1/4 cup all-purpose flour
6 garlic cloves, peeled
Salt and pepper to taste
2 cups chicken stock
2 cups red wine, preferably pinot noir
2 bay leaves
Several fresh thyme sprigs
Several fresh parsley sprigs
1/2 lb cremini mushrooms, trimmed and roughly chopped
2 Tbsp butter
Chopped fresh parsley for garnish

Blanch the bacon to remove some of its saltiness. Drop the bacon into a saucepan of cold water, covered by a couple of inches. Bring to a boil, simmer for 5 minutes, drain. Rinse in cold water, pat dry with paper towels. Cut the bacon into 1 inch by 1/4 inch pieces.

Salt and pepper the chicken parts. Place in a large resealable plastic bag with the flour and shake to coat the chicken. Shake off the excess flour and set aside.

Brown bacon on medium high heat in a dutch oven big enough to hold the chicken in one layer, about 10 minutes. Remove the cooked bacon with a slotted spoon, set aside. Keep the bacon fat in the pan. Working in batches if necessary, add onions and chicken, skin side down. Brown the chicken well, on all sides, about 10 minutes. Halfway through the browning, add the garlic.

Discard any excess fat. Add the chicken stock, wine, and herbs (it is easiest to tie the herbs into a bouquet garni). Add back the bacon. Lower heat to a simmer. Cover and cook for 20 minutes, or until chicken is tender and cooked through. Remove chicken and onions to a separate platter. Remove the bay leaves, herb sprigs, garlic, and discard.

Add mushrooms to the remaining liquid and turn the heat to high. Boil quickly and reduce the liquid by three fourths until it becomes thick and saucy. Lower the heat, stir in the butter. Return the chicken and onions to the pan to reheat and coat with sauce. Adjust seasoning. Garnish with parsley and serve.

Serves 6. Serve with potatoes or over egg noodles.

what we look like when we talk about food

2009-09-11T15:45:00.002-04:00

I think our hand gestures could be easily misconstrued. And yes, we still talk about food even when we're not at work.

j-cat cooks!: sugar raised doughnuts

2009-09-08T15:59:00.005-04:00

Remember when I said that J-Cat likes to cook things that have good potential for being disastrous? Well he has truly proven this over the last few weeks, tackling several tricky recipes - most involving vats of oil. He's made French bistro-style fries, fish and chips, various crepes and blintzes, and much more. This weekend, he tackled one of my great loves in life: sugar raised doughnuts.

This was actually not his first foray into the world of doughnuts. A couple of weeks ago he made some delightful spiced cake doughnut holes. But the sugar raised is - in my opinion - the pinnacle of the doughnut repertoire. Simple, light, sweet but not overpowering, chewy, yeasty, almost melts in your mouth. It's not fussy, it's not fancy, it is just the essence of doughnut.

These were a bit of a handful, but they were quite successful. I helped J-Cat with the second part of the process - the rolling/cutting/frying/sugaring part, ie. the fun part. It was certainly an adventure, and there really is nothing like eating a freshly fried doughnut just minutes after it comes out of the oil, as soon as it is cool enough to handle. A touch of a crisp exterior, a light and airy interior, a good bite. I think perhaps our choice of canola oil to fry was not ideal for flavor, there was a mild flavor almost like soy milk that I am guessing was due to the oil. It was not a bad flavor, it would probably just be a little better without it. We're looking forward to trying this one again, but next time we'll make sure there are a few more people around to eat a dozen doughnuts within the few hours before they go stale...recipe after the jump:

RAISED DOUGHNUTS
Adapted from Betty Crocker’s Old-Fashioned Cookbook
Yields approximately 1 dozen large donuts and holes

5 cups all-purpose flour
1/2 cup sugar
1 teaspoon salt

2 packages active dry yeast
1 3/4 cups very warm milk (120º to 130º)
1/3 cup shortening
2 eggs
Vegetable oil
Sugar

Mix 2 cups of the flour, 1/2 cup sugar, salt and yeast in large bowl. Add milk, shortening and eggs. Beat on low speed 1 minute, scraping bowl frequently. Beat on medium speed 1 minute, scraping bowl frequently. Stir in remaining flour until smooth. Cover and let rise in warm place 50 to 60 minutes or until double. (Dough is ready if indentations remain when touched).

Turn dough onto generously floured surface; roll around lightly to coat with flour. Flatten dough with hands or rolling pin to 1/2-inch thickness. Cut with floured doughnut cutter. Push together scraps and gently knead 2 or 3 times. Flatten dough to 1/2-inch thickness; cut with floured 4-inch doughnut cutter. Cover doughnuts and let rise 30 to 40 minutes or until double.

Heat oil (1 1/2 to 2 inches) in Dutch oven to 350º. Slide doughnuts into hot oil with wide spatula. Fry about 1 minute on each side or until golden brown. Remove carefully from oil (do not prick surfaces); drain on paper towels. Roll or shake in sugar.

manti vs. manty

2009-08-24T11:27:00.001-04:00

I find myself eating a lot of lamb in the summer. Perhaps that's a little odd given the hot weather, but I'm guessing it might have something to do with the abundance of lovely fresh mint. I'm craving middle eastern food quite often, so Melissa Clark's recipe for Pasta with Turkish-Style Lamb, Eggplant and Yogurt Sauce from the NY Times seemed like the perfect make at home fix. She gets the inspiration for this dish from Turkish manti, little lamb-stuffed dumplings served with yogurt.

Recently, while out having dinner with my mom, Brother #2, and his wife, we saw manti on a menu. Having had Uzbeki "manty" I assumed it would be very similar, and encouraged #2 to order it. It turned out to be rather different from the pastry wrapped lamb pies at the Uzbeki restaurants, but you could see the similar influences. It was also a very pleasant surprise. This pasta actually comes reasonably close in flavor to those little dumplings, and it's certainly a lot easier to make at home. Recipe after the jump:

PASTA WITH TURKISH-STYLE LAMB, EGGPLANT, AND YOGURT SAUCE
From a recipe by Melissa Clark in The New York Times

1 large eggplant, about 1 pound, in 1/2 -inch cubes
5 tablespoons extra virgin olive oil
1/2 teaspoon kosher or coarse sea salt, more to taste
3 fat garlic cloves, minced
1 large shallot, minced
1 pound ground lamb
1/4 teaspoon red pepper flakes, preferably Turkish or Aleppo (see note), more to taste
Freshly ground black pepper to taste
1 1/2 tablespoons chopped fresh mint or dill, more to taste
1/2 pound bowtie or orecchiette pasta
2 to 6 tablespoons unsalted butter, to taste
2/3 cup plain Greek yogurt.

1. Preheat oven to 500 degrees. Bring a pot of water to boil for pasta.

2. Toss eggplant with 4 tablespoons oil and a large pinch of salt. Spread on a baking sheet, making sure there is room between pieces, and roast until crisp and brown, 15 to 20 minutes.

3. In a large skillet, heat remaining tablespoon oil. Add 2 minced garlic cloves and the shallot and sauté until fragrant, 1 to 2 minutes. Add lamb, 1/2 teaspoon salt, red pepper flakes and black pepper to taste. Sauté until lamb is no longer pink, about 5 minutes. Stir in mint or dill and cook for another 2 minutes. Stir eggplant into lamb. Taste and adjust seasonings.

4. Cook pasta according to package directions. Meanwhile, in a small saucepan, melt butter: the amount is to your taste. Let cook until it turns golden brown and smells nutty, about 5 minutes. In a small bowl, stir together yogurt, remaining garlic and a pinch of salt.

5. Drain pasta and spread on a serving platter. Top with lamb-eggplant mixture, then with yogurt sauce. Pour melted butter over top. Sprinkle on additional red pepper and more mint or dill. Serve immediately.

Yield: 2 to 3 servings.

Note: Turkish or Aleppo (Syrian) red pepper flakes are sold at specialty markets and at kalustyans.com. You may also substitute ground chili powder. Do not use crushed red pepper flakes; they will be too hot for this dish.

omg stop it with the berries already

2009-08-17T11:12:00.002-04:00

'Tis summer, didja know? It finally feels like it, with this gross hot weather. So of course it's only fitting that we are moving soon, because it is the rule in my family that we only move when it is blisteringly hot out. Actually, we still have a few weeks until the move, so I'm being dramatic. I imagine it will not be this hot out in mid-September, but for now I am neck deep in boxes and the cats are dropping piles of fur on all of it. Thus I label the boxes: Books-Office (Cat Fur).

So as a small snack to fortify myself between rolls of packing tape and sharpies, here are some summery Blueberry Crumb Bars. Honestly, these are just shortbread and blueberries, ie. butter in a bar. These are exceedingly easy to make; crust doubles as crumb topping, berries go in whole, impossible to mess up. Perhaps one of these days I will make a dessert that is not berry-centric, but I don't imagine it will be one of these hot days. Recipe after the jump:

BLUEBERRY CRUMB BARS

3/4 cup white sugar
1 teaspoon baking powder
3 cups all-purpose flour
1 cup cold unsalted butter (2 sticks)
1 egg
1/4 teaspoon salt
Zest and juice of one lemon
4 cups fresh blueberries (2 pints)
1/3 cup white sugar
3 tbsp flour

1. Preheat the oven to 375 degrees F. Grease a 9×13 inch pan and line with parchment paper.

2. In a medium bowl, stir together 3/4 cup sugar, 3 cups flour, and baking powder. Mix in salt and lemon zest. Use a fork or pastry cutter to blend in the butter and egg. Dough will be crumbly. Pat 2/3 of the dough into the prepared pan.

3. In another bowl, stir together the sugar, 3 tbsp flour, and lemon juice. Gently mix in the blueberries. Sprinkle the blueberry mixture evenly over the crust. Crumble remaining dough over the berry layer.

4. Bake in preheated oven for 50-60 minutes, or until top is light brown. Cool completely. Using the edges of the parchment paper, lift gently out of the pan before cutting into squares. Refridgerate any leftovers in a sealed container.

french food i did not eat in france: for julia

2009-08-10T11:06:00.002-04:00

[Thanks to Tom for making this photo less beige and much more appetizing.]

It's been quite a Julia-centric week, with the long-awaited premiere of Nora Ephron's Julie & Julia. I attended a screening of the movie last week. I won't get into my feelings about it here, but I will say that I obviously have a great love for Julia Child and all that she has done for food in America. Julia influences not just my attitudes about food and cooking, but my livelihood as well. So here is a small tribute to her, Supremes de Volaille aux Champignons, from her 1961 masterpiece "Mastering the Art of French Cooking".

Now, J-Cat does not like chicken breast. Actually I don't like it either, for the most part. But it appears that saucing your chicken breast with copious amounts of butter, cream, port wine, and mushrooms suddenly makes it the most delicious meat you can imagine. J-Cat inhaled his before I even had two bites. He then put extra sauce directly on rice and ate it straight. This sauce is crack. I took the liberty of using more mushrooms than the original recipe calls for, partially because I assumed that our giant American-raised chicken breasts would be monsters compared to what Julia had access to in Paris in the early 60's. I was right, as the cooking time was quite different. I would recommend either flattening the breast just to even them out, or using the smallest chicken breasts you can find. Recipe after the jump:

Supremes de Volaille aux Champignons
(Chicken Breasts with Mushroom and Cream)
From “Mastering the Art of French Cooking” by Julia Child (Knopf, 1961)

4 supremes (boneless, skinless chicken breasts)
1/2 teaspoon lemon juice
1/4 teaspoon salt
Big pinch white pepper
5 tablespoons butter
1 tablespoon minced shallot or green onion
1/4 pound diced or sliced fresh mushrooms
1/8 teaspoon salt
For the sauce:
1/4 cup white or brown stock or canned beef bouillon
1/4 cup port, Madeira or dry white vermouth
1 cup whipping cream
Salt and pepper
2 tablespoons minced parsley

Rub the chicken breasts with drops of lemon juice and sprinkle lightly with salt and pepper. Heat the butter in a heavy, oven-proof casserole, about 10 inches in diameter until it is foaming. Stir in the minced shallots or green onion and saute a moment without browning. Then stir in the mushrooms and saute lightly for a minute or two without browning. Sprinkle with salt.

Quickly roll the chicken in the butter mixture and lay a piece of buttered wax paper over them, cover casserole and place in hot oven. After 6 minutes, press top of chicken with your finger. If still soft, return to oven for a moment or two. When the meat is springy to the touch it is done. Remove the chicken to a warm platter (leave mushrooms in the pot) and cover while making the sauce (2 to 3 minutes).

To make sauce, pour the stock and wine in the casserole with the booking butter and mushrooms. Boil down quickly over high heat until liquid is syrupy. Stir in the cream and boil down again over high heat until cream has thickened slightly. Off heat, taste for seasoning, and add drops of lemon juice to taste. Pour the sauce over the chicken, sprinkle with parsley and serve immediately.

Serves 4.

blackberry blossom

2009-07-27T17:41:00.000-04:00

So, J-Cat plays the mandolin. He started taking lessons in January and he's really gotten quite good in a short period of time. It's fascinating to watch this grown man take music lessons for the first time, because I have been a musician all my life and was classically trained from childhood. I think it's a pretty different experience. I will say that he is more dedicated about practicing than I ever was when I was a kid. I practiced a lot, but I'm sure my mother would tell you that sometimes (most times?) it was a bit of a struggle to motivate me. So I'm so impressed and proud of J-Cat, and I try to be as supportive as humanly possible, but sometimes, when he's playing the same little song over and over and over and over again every night for over a week, it tries my patience a tiny bit. Teeeeny tiny bit. I do my best to bite my tongue, but I may have expressed my distaste for a song or two here or there. Not his playing, just the song. His playing is 100% lovely. Anyway, what's my point? One of the first songs J-Cat learned was a fiddle tune called Blackberry Blossom. And this is one of the songs that never ever bothered me, because I just like it. I like the old bluegrass fiddle tunes. I wish his teacher would only stick to those, but I guess it's good to branch out a bit. If you're wondering what it sounds like, go here.

And if you are anything like me and the thought of a song called Blackberry Blossom makes you crave berries, try out this recipe for Sour Cream Blackberry Muffins.

BLACKBERRY MUFFINS
Adapted from Simply Recipes

2 cups all purpose flour
1 Tbsp baking powder
1/2 teaspoon salt
2 large eggs
1 cup sour cream or greek yogurt
1 tbsp milk
2/3 cup sugar
8 Tbsp warm melted butter (1 stick)
1 teaspoon vanilla
11 oz of fresh blackberries, cut in half (You can use frozen blackberries if fresh are not available, defrost and drain them first.)

Position rack in center of oven. Preheat oven to 400°F. Grease a standard 12 muffin pan or line with paper muffin cups.

Whisk together the flour, baking powder and salt in a large bowl.

In a separate bowl, whisk together eggs, sour cream, milk, sugar, butter and vanilla.

Add the wet mixture to the dry mixture and mix together with a few light strokes, just until the dry ingredients are moistened. Add the berries. (If you are using frozen berries, defrost them first, then drain the excess liquid, then coat them lightly in flour.) Do not overmix! Overmixing will cause the muffins to be dense, not fluffy. The batter should not be smooth.

Divide the batter evenly among the muffin cups. Bake until a toothpick inserted into the middle of 1 or 2 of the muffins comes out clean, 17-20 minutes (or longer). Let cool for 2 to 3 minutes before removing from the pan. If not serving hot, let cool on a rack. These are best served warm, but keep very nicely in an airtight container.

it's shameless plug time!

2009-07-21T14:02:00.000-04:00

Claire is back! Tune into the-network-that-shall-not-be-named-on-this-blog to see new episodes of a show that I have poured blood, sweat, and tears into. Delicious, bacon-flavored tears. In celebration of the upcoming premiere, here's a sneak preview of one of Claire's delicious dishes that I just had to make myself - lamb chops with a mint-almond pesto. A perfect recipe for summer when mint is growing out of control in Beth's garden and she unloads piles of it on me. Recipe after the jump:

CLAIRE'S LAMB CHOPS WITH MINT-ALMOND PESTO

12 frenched baby lamb chops (3 per person)
1/4 cup toasted sliced almonds
1 1/2 cups fresh mint leaves
1 lemon, zest and juice
1/4 cup extra virgin olive oil
salt and pepper, to taste

Heat a cast iron grill pan over high heat until very hot. Season one side of the lamb chops with salt and pepper, and drizzle with oil. Place on the hot pan season side down. Season and oil the top side before flipping. Grill for about 3-4 minutes per side for medium rare, depending on the thickness of your chops. Remove to a plate to rest while you prepare the pesto.

In a food process, combine the mint leaves, almonds, lemon zest, and juice. Pulse to begin breaking down. Turn processor on and slowly drizzle in olive oil until the mixture resembles a thick paste. Season to taste with salt and pepper. If you would like a looser consistency, you can add a bit of water.

Serve lamb chops either topped with the pesto, or on the side as a dipping sauce.

in season: blueberry buttermilk cake

2009-07-16T10:53:00.000-04:00

When the summertime berries come into season, it is physically impossible for me to make a dessert that doesn't feature them. All I want to eat in the summer is fruit. This Blueberry Buttermilk Cake couldn't be easier; super moist, light, flavorful, not too sweet. My perfect summer dessert.

You can swap out any nice plump berry in this recipe, which was originally written for raspberries. I intend to try it with the raspberries soon, but the blueberries happened to look better that day, and in truth I love no berry more than a blueberry. Serve it with some fresh whipped cream, or a nice vanilla ice cream, or just eat it straight for breakfast. Versatility in a simple cake. Recipe after the jump:

BLUEBERRY BUTTERMILK CAKE
Adapted from Gourmet Magazine, June 2009

1 cup all-purpose flour
1/2 teaspoon baking powder
1/2 teaspoon baking soda
1/4 teaspoon salt
1/2 stick unsalted butter, softened
2/3 cup plus 1 1/2 tablespoons sugar, divided
1/2 teaspoon pure vanilla extract
1 large egg
1/2 cup well-shaken buttermilk
1 cup fresh blueberries (about 5 oz)

Preheat oven to 400°F with rack in middle. Butter and flour a 9-inch round cake pan.
Whisk together flour, baking powder, baking soda, and salt. Beat butter and 2/3 cup sugar with an electric mixer at medium-high speed until pale and fluffy, about 2 minutes, then beat in vanilla. Add egg and beat well. At low speed, mix in flour mixture in 3 batches, alternating with buttermilk, beginning and ending with flour, and mixing until just combined. Spoon batter into cake pan, smoothing top. Scatter berries evenly over top and sprinkle with remaining 1 1/2 Tbsp sugar.

Bake until cake is golden and a wooden pick inserted into center comes out clean, 25 to 30 minutes. Cool in pan 10 minutes, then turn out onto a rack and cool to warm, 10 to 15 minutes more. Invert onto a plate.

j-cat cooks (srsly!): beef wellington (srsly!!)

2009-07-13T11:28:00.001-04:00

It must be freezing in hell right now, because a couple weeks ago, J-Cat decided that he loves to cook. I don't think it should be too surprising that I have mixed feelings about this development. On the one hand, it is awfully nice to get cooked for, for a change. It's also nice that he finally understands why I love it as much as I do. But on the other hand...my kitchen.

Because J-Cat is not just someone who wants to cook; he wants to experiment. It's not fun for him unless it is some complicated undertaking that has maybe a 50/50 chance of being a disaster. The first big dinner he cooked for me? Beef Wellington. Because cooking a nice steak or a roast the very first time he ever cooked meat is not enough of a challenge, he had to go that giant leap forward and tackle the infamously tricky Beef Wellington. But let me just say, it really was quite good. I only had to step in a couple of times, and I only had a small heart attack when I saw the state of my kitchen at the end of the night.

The mushroom duxelle that he spread all over the tenderloin was so yummy that we spread the extra on bread and turned it into an appetizer. The meat itself was cooked to a lovely medium-rare, and cut like butter. The puff pastry was appropriately thin and crisp and shining with an egg wash. It was thoroughly impressive. And thank god for that, cause we spent a small fortune on the ingredients. My nerves may have been shot for the whole afternoon that he was tinkering in there, but this lovely dinner - which he made for our anniversary - more than made up for it.

He served the wellington with a side of truffled mashed potatoes, proving that after all these years, he does know the way to my heart after all. Recipe after the jump:

J-CAT'S BEEF WELLINGTON

1 lb beef tenderloin fillet
salt and pepper
1 tbsp canola oil
2 tbsp Dijon mustard
8 ounces thinly sliced prosciutto
1/2 cup mushroom duxelle, recipe follows
1 sheet frozen puff pastry, defrosted
2 egg yolks, beaten

Mushroom Duxelle (this recipe makes extra, and is delicious spread on baguette on crackers)
1 shallot, diced
1/2 pound cremini mushrooms, rough chop
1/2 pound shiitake mushrooms, rough chop
1 tbsp unsalted butter
salt and pepper, to taste

Preheat oven to 400F. Generously salt and pepper the tenderloin fillet. Heat the canola oil in a heavy skillet over high heat. Sear the fillet on all sides until brown. Remove from the heat and allow to cool while you assemble the duxelle.

Place the roughly chopped mushrooms and shallots in a food processor and process until it turns into a paste. Melt the butter in a small skillet over medium heat. Add the mushroom paste to the butter and saute until it begins to release liquid. Lower the heat and allow to simmer until the liquid evaporates. Set aside to cool.

When the fillet has cooled, brush on all sides with the mustard. Lay out a sheet of plastic wrap. Place the slices of prosciutto slightly overlapping on the plastic wrap, making the layer of prosciutto about as wide as the fillet is long. Spread the cooled duxelle evenly on the prosciutto. Set the fillet on the edge of the prosciutto and roll the prosciutto around the fillet. Wrap in the plastic wrap tightly and refrigerate for at least 20 minutes.

Meanwhile, roll out the sheet of pastry on a lightly floured board to a size that will fully wrap around the beef. Place the cooled fillet in the middle of the pastry. Brush the edges of the pastry with the egg wash, the fold over the fillet and seal. Fold the sides up and over to cover the edges. Make sure the seal the edges well with the egg wash. Turn the wellington seam side down, brush the entire surface with egg wash. Cut shallow slits in the surface of the pastry. Place on a baking sheet and refrigerate for about 10 minutes.

Remove the wellington from the refrigerator and give it an additional brush of egg wash. Bake for 25-35 minutes, until the pastry is golden brown and the internal temperature of the meat is 125-130 for medium rare. Remove from the oven and allow to rest for at least 10 minutes before slicing. Slice into 1-inch thick slices to serve. Serves 4.

changing my mind about chicken

2009-07-06T20:23:00.001-04:00

I've been hearing about this famous Zuni Cafe roasted chicken for a while now. It's one of those recipes that every known food blogger seems to have attempted at some point. And I have a confession; I have a hard time imagining a roast chicken so good that it would cause this much commotion. This one singular chicken recipe. And that is probably because I don't love chicken. Is that horrible to say? It's not that don't like chicken, I just don't love it, and I am fully aware that this is a result of the fact that about 95% of the chicken I've ever been served in my life has been pretty lame. So at some point, I just stopped ordering chicken in restaurants. Unless it's fried, that's a different story. But I have just never been inclined to ordered a roast chicken in a restaurant - even a great restaurant - because I figure it's on the menu for the diners who are least adventurous. But now I am realizing that that is a pretty unfair way to look at it, because obviously there are restaurants out there that are doing such great roast chicken that people all the way on the other side of the country are talking about it. And talking about it, and talking about it. And since I'm over 3000 miles away from that famous chicken, it's pretty lucky that they shared their recipe so I could make it for myself.

What stunned me about this recipe was how simple it was. It appeared that the main secret to this lauded roast chicken was a dry brine, and a long dry brine at that. Just salt the heck out of that chicken, and stick it in the fridge for 1-3 days. That's it! And the result? Juicy, delicious, perfectly crisped skin, and a chicken that changed my mind about chicken. Recipe after the jump:

ZUNI CAFE ROAST CHICKEN
From The Zuni Cafe Cookbook by Judy Rodgers

[Note: The originally recipe is written in conjunction with the bread salad that they serve with the chicken at the restaurant. I have pulled out just the portion of the recipe regarding the chicken because the technique for roasting is what I was most interested in. Go here for the recipe in its entirety.]

1 small chicken, 2-3/4 to 3-1/2-pounds
4 tender sprigs fresh thyme, marjoram, rosemary or sage, about 1/2 inch long
Salt
About teaspoon freshly cracked black pepper
A little water

Rinse the chicken thoroughly in cold water. Using paper towels, dry the chicken inside and out very thoroughly. Slide your finger under the skin of the breast, carefully separating the skin from the meat. Place a sprig of your herb of choice under the skin. Season the bird inside and out with a generous amount of salt and the black pepper and rub into the skin. Cover with plastic wrap and refrigerate for 1-3 days depending on the size of the bird.

Preheat the oven to 475. Unwrap the brined bird and pat any condensation on the skin off with a a paper towel. Heat a saute pan or skillet just larger than the bird over medium heat for about five minutes. (I used a 10-inch skillet for a small 2 3/4 pound bird). Place the bird breast side up in the hot skillet and place in the middle of the preheated oven. Roast for 20 minutes. At this point, check that the skin is browning. If it is not, raise the heat to 500. If it looks too dark, lower it to 450. After it has roasted 30 minutes, flip the bird over. Roast for 10 to 20 minutes depending on size. Flip back to expose the breast and roast an additional 5 to 10 minutes. Total roasting time will be 45 to 60 minutes.

Remove the chicken from the oven and turn off the heat. Leave the bread salad to continue warming for another 5 minutes of so.

Lift the chicken from the roasting pan and set on a plate. Carefully pour the clear fat from the roasting pan, leaving the lean drippings behind. Add about a tablespoon of water to the hot pan and swirl it.

Slash the stretched skin between the thighs and breasts of the chicken, then tilt the bird and plate over the roasting pan to drain the juice into the drippings.

Set the chicken in a warm spot and leave to rest. The meat will become more tender and uniformly succulent as it cools.

Tilt the roasting pan and skim the last of the fat. Place over medium-low heat, add any juice that has collected under the chicken, and bring to a simmer. Stir and scrape to soften any hard golden drippings. Taste-the juices will be extremely flavorful.

french food i did not eat in france: gratin dauphinoise

2009-07-02T12:32:00.001-04:00

I have actually eaten potatoes gratin in France before, just not on this trip. I once had them aside a steak and it was extremely memorable. My thighs still remember it. Nobody doesn't love potatoes gratin. In fact, gratin is the answer to everything, like getting people who don't like a vegetable to eat copious amounts of that vegetable. But this is the classic; simple yet complex in flavor, quick to put together, ultimate comfort food. And this recipe, despite being a little lighter than your classic gratin recipe, tastes as decadent as it gets. Recipe after the jump:

GRATIN DAUPHINOIS

3 tablespoons melted butter, divided
6 peeled russet potatoes (about 2 pounds), cut into 1/8-inch slices
1 garlic clove, minced
3/4 cup (3 ounces) shredded Gruyère or Swiss cheese
1/2 teaspoon salt
1/8 teaspoon black pepper
1 cup milk
1/4 tsp grated nutmeg
2 tbsp finely chopped chives

Preheat oven to 425F. Heat the milk in a small saucepan until scalding, then add the nutmeg. Spread an 11-by-7-inch baking dish or gratin dish with 1 tablespoon of the butter. Arrange half the potatoes in dish, sprinkle with half the garlic, drizzle with half the remaining butter, half the cheese, and half the salt and pepper. Repeat layers. Pour hot milk over potatoes.

Bake for 45 minutes or until potatoes are tender, milk is absorbed and top is browned. Garnish with the chopped chives.

paris day four: murder by foie gras

2009-06-30T20:05:00.002-04:00

How long will it take me to finish this vacation roundup? Day four dawned far sunnier and warmer than the previous three, a great day to climb some more stairs and see the city from the loveliest vantage point. Well, that photo looks ominously cloudy, but that actually passed quickly. After our obligatory baguette/butter/jam/tiny coffee breakfast at a nearby cafe, we hopped on the metro up to Montmartre and Sacre Coeur.

For once we were met with no line for a tourist attraction, and I realized why that might be so when we were about halfway up the steep, narrow, claustrophobic, slippery stone steps of the basilica. This was the opposite experience of climbing the Eiffel Tower. We had no idea when it would end. The climbing isn't tough, it was really just so narrow in those winding stairwells. Thankfully, portions of the climb went outdoors because I am claustrophobic. There's J-Cat, he was actually filming the whole climb with his little camera. I'd post it, but this is a blog about food and the video makes me want to vomit.

Montmartre itself is a lovely neighborhood to stroll around. The highest point in Paris, the steep streets and numerous stairways felt particularly Parisian to me, probably because this neighborhood is used in so many films to evoke that super Parisian Paris. We sat on the Sacre Coeur steps featured in Amelie and munched on baguette sandwiches (rosetto salami & butter for him, chevre & tomato for me), probably the cheapest thing we ate on the whole trip, but really quite satisfying after being trapped in a tiny stone stairwell for 20 minutes.

This is a sculpture dedicated to the writer Marcel Ayme. Apparently, this is a character from one of Ayme's stories about a man in Montmartre who could walk through walls.

After Montmartre, we made our way down to the Marais, one of the areas known for shopping. Because wtf, we hadn't done any shopping at all. But by this point, the sun was really shining and hot, and I was painfully aware of how much money we had already spent, and it was tough to spend more on clothes that I wasn't really loving. There seemed to be a bit of a hippy bohemian thing going on in most of the shops we came across. Kind of a disappointment. But what wasn't a disappointment was Breizh Cafe, where we had lunch. Second lunch. Ahem. Breizh Cafe, as the name implies, focuses on the food of Brittany, specifically crepes and galettes. This little cafe takes the crepes far above the simple street food to fine, thoughtful, impressive cuisine. We started with some fantastically fresh oysters, listed as huitres rares, special special. We followed this with a galette - a savory buckwheat crepe - filled with chevre and fresh greens. Super thin and delicate with edges that were almost invisibly thin, yet undeniably crispy. And of course we had to have something sweet, so we went with the super simple and classic crepe citron, with sugar and lemon juice. Perfection.

After some more shopping, we walked all the way from the Marais back to St. Germain. J-Cat pooped out at this point and decided to head back for a quick cat nap before dinner, but I still had a little shop in me and made my way around the neighborhood. (I may have possibly returned to Bread & Roses in the process and gotten a bit of an apricot pastry snack. It was a really long day.) Finally, despite eating all day, we were off to our final dinner in Paris, at the highly acclaimed "Josephine" Chez Dumonet.

Of all of the bistros we visited in Paris, Chez Dumonet feels the most classically old-school Paris, bright and cheery, with 1930's fixtures, leather banquettes, white linen tablecloths, and very jovial waiters. So it was only fitting that everything we ate that evening was classic French all the way. In fact, the chef made certain that I got even more than I bargained for. This dinner ended up being both excellent and overwhelming. It started normal enough, with an amuse consisting of a rich seafood soup and a glass of white wine. Then J-cat had a simple endive salad with roquefort, but the hunk of cheese was as big as my head. So much for small French portions. I started with a country terrine - a half portion, that was even bigger than the hunk of cheese. Then it got crazy. After clearing away our starters, the waiter sets down a plate of foie gras - a hunk just as big as the terrine if not bigger. I expressed my confusion and all he would say is that the chef sent it over to me. Was the chef trying to kill me?! I mean, it was really really nice foie gras, but I had just eaten a rich terrine, and my main course was a freakin' duck confit! My heart was going to explode. I managed a small portion of the foie gras, thinking the whole time of the rich duck that was to come. As much as I enjoyed the foie, I'm glad I saved room, though, because the duck was amazing. I'm talking best duck confit ever, anywhere. And to top that off, potatoes fried in duck fat. Oh yeah. J-Cat had an unbelievable boeuf bourguignon, also a half portion that was still too big, served with buttered noodles.

Dessert was totally out of control. I went with their most talked about dessert, the Grand Marnier Souffle, which was the size of a fat baby. J-Cat had a millefeuille, basically a cream napoleon. This thing was epic. So epic, in fact, that a lady two tables away from us spotted it and stated loud enough for half the dining room to hear that she wishes she had gotten it instead of the souffle because it looked amazing. Which it was, but we're talking a two-baby millefeuille here. So after J-Cat and I got through maybe 1/4 of this monster (delicious monster) dessert, it only made sense to pass it down. Why not? And it made it four tables away before it was devoured. At least it didn't go to waste.

So I guess it was fitting that on our last night in Paris, we truly had a dinner to remember, for so many reasons. We were perhaps so full we wanted to die, but boy was it all excellent. And because Chef Dumonet really did appear to want to kill me, he came out at the end of our meal and basically shamed me into downing the shot of Grand Marnier that came with my souffle.

french food i did not eat in france: moules provencale

2009-06-24T18:47:00.002-04:00

In fact, I had no moules of any kind in Paris, though we did have some fantastic oysters. I guess the rule is that you should never eat mussels in months that do not have an "R" (May, June, July, August), although I suppose that rule would also apply to oysters and we had no issue with ignoring it for oysters. I don't know, I just know that we didn't really see many places serving mussels, except some really suspect bistros right near Gare du Nord. Not exactly the part of town you go to seek out food.

Though I usually opt for Moules Mariniere, with some lovely herbs and white wine, Moules Provencale is a good choice if you're not into the wineyness of mariniere, or if you love the tomato action. I found this recipe for Fennel-Steamed Mussels Provencal on Mark Bittman's Bitten blog and was immediately intrigued by the focus on fennel. I could just imagine that the sweetness of the mussels would be so well complemented by the subtle anise-flavor of the fennel.

He really kicks ups that fennel flavor by also calling for fennel seeds, and tarragon, and either anise-flavored liqueur or whole star anise. I used the star anise because it was what I had in the house, and it's just so pretty. Despite my great love of anise flavors in cooking, I'm actually not a fan of anise liqueur so it's not something I would generally have around the house. This recipe did prove a wonderful combination, and the liquid left behind was best soaked up with some good rustic baguette. Bringing a little bit of France back home. Recipe after the jump:

FENNEL-STEAMED MUSSELS PROVENCAL
From The New York Times Bitten Blog by Mark Bittman

2 tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil
4 cloves garlic, smashed and peeled
1 fennel bulb (about 1 pound), trimmed and thinly sliced
2 tablespoons fennel seeds
1/2 cup Pernod or Ricard (or 4 whole star anise)
1 cup chopped tomatoes, if desired (canned are fine, drained first)
1 sprig fresh tarragon, if desired
At least 4 pounds large mussels, well washed

1. Place the oil in a large pot and turn the heat to medium; 1 minute later, add the garlic, fennel, fennel seeds, liqueur, and tomatoes and tarragon if you're using them. Bring to a boil, cook for about 1 minute. Add the mussels, cover the pot, and turn the heat to high.
2. Cook, shaking the pot occasionally, until the mussels open, 5 to 10 minutes. Use a slotted spoon to remove the mussels and fennel to a serving bowl, then strain any liquid over them and serve.

paris day three: the international sign for "i'm so stuffed i want to die"

2009-06-22T10:54:00.004-04:00

Day three dawned in beautiful Paris and I realized that I had only had one croissant thus far. This was unacceptable and had to be remedied as soon as possible. So on our walk from the hotel to the Louvre, the natural stop was Laduree, another world famous patisserie. Though Laduree is probably more famous for its macarons and other sweet pastries, I went straight for the classic butter croissant. And there is nothing better, really, than a simple, flaky, perfectly buttery pastry. I realized when we reached the Louvre, however, that I should have gotten two - or five. I would need the energy to deal with the crowds and with getting utterly lost in the gargantuan museum.

After hours of wandering through several amazing collections and hitting the required big three - Mona Lisa, Winged Victory, and Venus de Milo - we thought we were making our way out but just kept circling around to the Marly Horses. Something like three times. I mean, they're amazing but we were just trying to get out at that point. By the time we finally escaped, we were famished, and did not have the energy to search far and wide for the best lunch. We ended up at a small bistro near the museum called Cafe de la Comedie. I have no doubt that this place was overpriced based on proximity to the museum, but in the end we were fairly satisfied with the food. J-Cat had a perfectly respectable burger, while I had a croque monsieur on Poilane miche. I figure it's pretty hard to screw up croque monsieur, especially when it's on fantastic bread, and I was right.

After lunch, it was time for more art and beauty. We strolled through the Tuileries gardens towards L'Orangerie, the small museum featuring Monet's Water Lillies, as well as other impressionist masterpieces. The circular room with the skylight roof where you stand surrounded on all sides by Monet's breathtaking lillies is an experience like no other.

And then it was time for the Eiffel Tower. We decided to walk all the way over, which took a good long while, but gave us the chance to see some other sights, like Place de la Concorde, Petit Palais, and the Invalides. Towards the end of this walk, I discovered an amazing little product called Compeed blister patches, which I can't believe they don't sell in the US because it saved my feet from certain agony after literally hours of nonstop walking.

We finally arrive at the Eiffel Tower to find a ridiculously long line for the elevators, so I'm especially glad that we found those blister patches because we walked all the way up. I felt pretty bad for some of the people we passed on the way up, they did not look like they should have attempted it.

After the stunning views, we had a little time before our dinner reservation, so we stopped for our now traditional early evening coffee. Look how tiny it is, you can't even see it in J-Cat's hand.

Our day culminated in a fantastic diner at the much-lauded Chez L'Ami Jean, Stephane Jego's invariably packed basque-influenced bistro in the 7th arrondisement. The meal started with an amuse of tinned fromage blanc made from ewe’s milk with piment d’Espelette and chives. This mild cheese curd was spread on rustic bread from Poujauran, a highly regarded boulangerie that supplies many three-star Parisian restaurants. J-Cat then had a perfect mussel risotto, while I had a starter of sardines, mozzarella, and tomato, all freshness come to life. J-Cat's main was a steak (he ate a lot of steak in Paris) with fresh morels. Mine was a guinea hen with asparagus and a giant marrow bone. The guinea hen was perfectly roasted rare, and I was just completely content scooping out the marrow with my little spoon. Dessert is where things got a little out of hand. J-Cat ordered a perfectly normal meringue with raspberries and vanilla creme. But I ordered something from another planet. It was listed as "Grand-mere riz au lait". In my flimsy French, I figured that meant "grandmother's rice pudding". I was right about the rice pudding part, but now I believe "grand-mere" must mean "big-ass". This was the most obscenely large bowl of rice pudding ever set in front of a single person. I mean, seriously, I was already quite stuffed, how is this the portion for one person? But it was amazing, with a ribbon of confiture de lait and served with a bowl full of dried fruits and sugared nuts, and a big wooden spoon to serve yourself. Oh how I wished I could take it all home and pull it out in the middle of the night, it was certainly the best rice pudding I've ever had. But that wasn't the end of our desserts.

At the table next to us, a Japanese couple had apparently ordered some kind of chef's tasting menu, because the waitress just kept piling on dish after dish to the befuddled couple. Not able to speak any French or much English, they didn't seem to know what was ahead of them. The giant platter of caramelized foie gras is the first thing that got my notice. But when the waitress brought them the same rice pudding as mine and told them that it was the first of three desserts, the poor man put his head in his hands and started sweating. I could only imagine that he was telling his wife that he couldn't do it, it was just too insane. She simply laughed and took tiny bites. The next two desserts came simultaneously, and she simply picked them both up off their table, set it on ours, and said in broken English "please, we can't". We laughed and tried to tell them that we were just too stuffed, but she would not have any of that. So we had a bit of passionfruit custard and a supremely rich dark chocolate quenelle. When the waitress returned to collect the dishes, she looked at the half eaten extra desserts on our table and just laughed. There are no language barriers when you're being stuffed with excellent food.

french food i did not eat in france: cherry clafoutis

2009-06-18T00:04:00.003-04:00

I have been terribly neglectful of this blog since I've been back, I know, but I have been busy busy busy shooting a show and cursing the rain and my brain has not been in a place of writing. I have also been somewhat neglectful of my kitchen, what with leftovers coming home with me at the end of many of my days on set. I have been able to do a little culinary dabbling on the weekends, and I find myself trying out recipes for dishes that I should have eaten in Paris but didn't have a chance to. There were only so many hours and so many foods that I could stuff into myself at a time. So here is one classic French dessert that I should have stuffed: clafoutis.

Clafoutis is a baked fresh fruit custard, traditionally featuring fresh sweet cherries. Apparently the original version included whole unpitted cherries, the pits lending a mild almondy flavor when baked. These days, however, most recipes call for pitted cherries, probably because one too many hosts neglected to mention the pits and had an unhappy guest with a chipped tooth. To make up for the missing almond flavor, this recipe includes slivered almonds and a touch of almond extract. Clafoutis is incredibly simple to make, and yet seems like a complicated dish. The result is like a cross between a tart and a custard. Though it all starts out as one batter, the baking process seems to create two distinct textures; an almost cakelike crust along the bottom and sides, with a layer of light custard and fruit floating above it. J-Cat usually doesn't like eggy custards, but he loved this dessert for the almond flavor and the fact that the custard was so delicate and not eggy at all. This is the time for fresh cherries, so I cannot recommend this recipe more. Just be careful pitting those cherries, I'm still cleaning the dark red juice off of my kitchen...

CHERRY ALMOND CLAFOUTIS
Adapted from Simply Recipes

1 pint fresh sweet cherries, pitted
1/4 cup sliced almonds
3 eggs
3/4 cup sugar
1 tbsp dark brown sugar
1/2 cup all purpose flour
pinch salt
1 cup whole milk
1 tsp almond extract
2 tsps vanilla extract
powdered sugar for dusting

Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Butter and flour a 9x13 baking dish. Layer the pitted cherries and almond slivers in the bottom of the dish. Whisk together the eggs, sugars, flour, and salt. Add the milk and extracts and whisk until well combined. Pour slowly into the baking dish. Bake for 40-50 minutes until lightly browned and a toothpick inserted in the center comes out clean. It may still wiggle a bit in the middle but that is fine. Remove and set to cool on a wire rack. This is especially delicious served a bit warm, dusted lightly with powdered sugar.

paris day two: 10 more coffees please

2009-06-15T07:40:00.005-04:00

The dark spot in Parisian cuisine: coffee. Tiny, expensive, and honestly, not very good. Two coffee-loving New Yorkers with jet lag and a lot on the itinerary just need giant 20-ounce coffees to walk around with, you know?

But here's one of the billion bright spots: butter. Lovely French butter. We started our day by walking through the Luxembourg Gardens to grab breakfast at Bread & Roses, a dreamy boulangerie/patisserie on rue de Fleurus. The difficulty of this place is the sheer number of different delicious choices. Savory or sweet, pastry or bread, simple or elaborate. We decided to go classic with an excellent baguette, butter, and jam. This is one of my favorite breakfasts; simple, classic, but when every element is excellent it is breakfast perfection.

This breakfast perfection gave us the needed energy to tackle the Musee d'Orsay, the stunning beaux arts train station transformed into a museum housing the Impressionist masterpieces. Monet, Degas, Renoir, Cezanne; needless to say we spent a good long while wandering. Eventually, however, it was of course time to seek out more foods. We ended up at a Brasserie called Pere et Fils, just across the street from Da Rosa. It was nothing to really write home about, but J-Cat had a solid steak frites, and I had a very respectable steak tartare, and for quite a fair price, too.

From there it was time for Notre Dame, which surely I don't need to say too much about. I don't think J-Cat has ever seen anything quite like that. Both the stunning cathedral and the swarms of tourists. It was late in the day, but there was still a rather ridiculous line waiting to climb the towers, so we decided that ice cream was a higher priority.

Not just any ice cream; this was Berthillon. Just a quick walk through the painfully quaint Ile Saint-Louis, past dozens of cafes advertising that they serve Berthillon, the trick is not to be tricked by those signs and keep walking until you get to the actual place! It's also well worth it to skip waiting in line at the window and instead get a seat at the small cafe. You'll likely make less of a mess of yourself, and you'll get a little glass of water, which you will probably want after some rich rich ice cream. J-Cat - already feeling weighed down by a day and a half of relentlessly rich food - decided on a raspberry and rose sorbet. I apparently have a stomach of steel and went for a rich pistachio with a rich salted butter caramel. Did I say rich? Double rich. Creamy, unbelievably smooth, with incredibly pure flavors. This lived up to the hype.

This little ice cream excursion, however, did not make the line at Notre Dame any shorter, so we decided to head down to Montparnasse a little early for our dinner reservation and wander around a different neighborhood. We were happy to discover that the coffees at cafes in this neighborhood were considerably cheaper, but they weren't any bigger or better and they were served with an attitude that said that we were freaks for drinking coffee at an hour when wine would be much more appropriate.

Dinner was at La Regalade, a bit of an institution in the Neo-Bistro world, opened in the early 90's by superstar Yves Camdeborde. Camdeborde has since moved on, but foodies still flock to La Regalade, and for good reason. An exceedingly affordable prix fixe starts with an amuse of fantastic serve-yourself terrine (I served myself a somewhat obscene slice to top my bread) along with a big crock of gherkins. J-Cat started with a classic salad of haricot verts and beets. I decided to order things that I actually didn't understand. Adventurous perhaps, but I felt like being surprised. So I found out that "macquereax" means mackerel, on top of a tart with caramelized onions. Here's where I felt particularly vindicated for taking chances. It might be a dish I wouldn't have jumped to order had I known what it said, but I was extremely happy that I did. For the main course, J-Cat chose a Paleron de beouf nicoise, perhaps remembering how perfect the paleron was the night before. He actually perferred this preparation's flavors, I was more on the fence. For my main, I found out that "poitrine de cochon" means "giant hunk of pork belly". I did, for the record, know that cochon was pork, but I had no idea what part. And I'm not kidding when I say giant. (I know I should have taken photos, but there was another American couple in the restaurant taking photos of everything and I felt like everyone else in the restaurant was looking at them like they were wierdos so I refrained.) Anyway, this slab of pork belly was cooked until the skin was super crispy, which meant I was again happily surprised by my half-blind ordering.

Dessert for J-Cat was a classic Grand Marnier souffle, with a wonderfully subtle flavor and unbelievably airy texture. I went with a "fraiture" with strawberries and rhubarb, which turned out to be some kind of panna cotta. The tiny wild strawberries blew my mind. Seriously.

Stuffed to the gills our second night in a row, and utterly satisfied, we hopped back on the metro to Ile de la cite to catch an evening cruise on the Seine. Yes, we are giant giant tourists. But watching Paris go by at night is a sight that simply cannot be missed, even if you're constantly mocked by the teenagers getting drunk on the river banks. It's worth it to feel a little foolish when you get to see this:

And I guess that brisk wind and misty air somehow wiped out our indulgent dinner because we totally got a ham and cheese crepe on the way back to the hotel...

*the passionfruit*