Tag Archives: recipes

Back from the Cabin

Back too quickly from the mountains. There are many fantastic photos to share, but I am in the last moments of battery life, and I want to save them for dinner tonight, so you may have to wait until Monday to see them. Like the nimrod I am, I brought the connection cable for the camera, but not the battery charger.

Sheesh.

Anyway, we’re back and as well fed as can be. We hung around watching [Steller's Jays](http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Steller%27s_Jay) that we had set peanuts out for, learning from the neighbors that if you put out mixed bird seed, the connoisseur Jays would pick the peanuts out. I can’t blame them, they are far superior to the sunflower seeds, chaff and gravel that constitutes the rest of it. That and a hike into the woods, where we met the edge of the recent fires (a chilling fifty yards from their home) rounded out most of the afternoon, so we went inside to scrabble together some dinner.

I put out a tray of cantaloupe with fresh mint and recently dried black mission figs, with which we discovered that Columbia Crest’s gewuertztraminer is much too sweet for our taste, and so switched to a white bordelais wine of little distinction but adequate drinkability. Equipped with something to snack on while cooking, I made a caponata (ratatouille via sicily) augmented with some fantastic green beans from Lancaster, CA, and seared and roasted a pork tenderloin that had been marinted in white wine, garlic and thyme. We had bought watercress to make a salad with, but it just ended up being two of us, so we skipped it and went right to some baked caramelized Last Chance Peaches with almonds. Those would have been excellent with vanilla ice cream, but we were really roughing it. I mean, we even drank Cotes du Rhone with the pork.

**Caponata Siciliana**

String beans aren’t necessarily traditional, but on the other hand, the only thing really traditional is having a variety of vegetables. Eggplant is de rigeur, the word *caponata* being used synonymously with eggplant in some circles. Onions and peppers are almost universal, but tomatoes are sacred to some, blasphemous to others, usually being replaced by water or stock, pine nuts and raisins. Some use all of the above. It’s all about what you like and what you have on hand. Here’s what we made last night.

4 tabelspoons extra virgin olive oil, plus more for serving
1 large red onion, chopped (about 1 cup)
3 cloves garlic, chopped
salt and freshly ground black pepper
1/2 teaspoon dried oregano
3 asian eggplants, cut into 3/4″ chunks (about 2 pounds)
1 pasillo pepper (poblano) or bell pepper, cut into 1/2″ pieces
1/2 cup dry white wine
6 small tomatoes, quartered or 1 pint cherry tomatoes, halved (about 3/4 lb)
6 thyme sprigs tied in a bundle
3 tablespoons shredded mint
1 handful string beans, cut into 1/2 inch lengths (about 1-1/2 cups)
2 tablespoons capers, rinsed (the smaller the better)

Heat the oil over medium-high heat in a 12″ saute pan, or divide between a smaller pan and a wide dutch oven. When oil is very hot, add onions and saute for several minutes until softened, reduce heat if onions begin browning. Add garlic and saute until fragrant. Do not allow garlic to brown. Add eggplant pieces, season with salt, pepper and oregano and stir to combine and coat eggplant pieces with oil.

When eggplant pieces are beginning to soften, add poblano or bell pepper and saute. When vegetables are beginning to brown and soften, add white wine and scrape up any bits stuck to the bottom of the pan. If using a pan and a dutch oven, increase the heat under the dutch oven to high and add the vegetables and liquid from the pan to it.

Add tomatoes, thyme, mint and string beans, season with salt and pepper and bring to a simmer. Lower heat, partially cover and allow tomatoes to stew. After 7-10 minutes, when the tomatoes are more or less liquid, add the capers and simmer another 5-10 minutes or until desired consistency is reached. If mixture beocomes too thick or begins to stick, add water or wine as needed. If using wine, be sure to cook for several more minutes to evaporate alcohol, or your *caponata* will taste like cheap wine (no matter what wine you use).

Serve hot with roasted meats or cold, seasoned with vinegar, as an antipasto. (Use quality red-wine vingar, not that bullshit with caramel coloring that says “Aceto Balsamico di Cleveland.)

Serves 4

L’Shana Tovah! via Vietnam

The high holy days are upon us once again. What does this mean to me? Well, nothing, really, but it means something to the Agent and it’s an excuse to cook, so here we are. Monday was Yom Kippur, the Day of Atonement, and for some reason, you can’t eat and atone at the same time, so you fast from sundown to sundown. Afterwards, naturally, you break the fast- as soon as is humanly possible- traditionally with lots of carbs. The Agent’s experience has been that a broth type soup relaxes the contracted stomach and allows you to eat more easily after the fast. I don’t think I’ve ever gone twenty four hours without eating in my life, and I’m not about to start, so I’ll have to take his word for it.

Armed with this information, we started out with a Jewish riff on Pho, the traditional Vietnamese soup. We then moved on to a vegetarian *fesenjan*, which is a Persian-Jewish stew of duck or lamb with eggplant, cooked with pomegranate juice and walnuts. I used buttercup squash in lieu of meat (because originally we were going to have a vegetarian guest who bailed- the chicken soup was a last minute idea) and although the flavor worked, next time I would use pumpkin or hubbard squash, which I could trust to hold its shape more. We then had some cheese, because that’s what we do, and then my first noodle kugel, which by all accounts wasn’t bad. We had a succession of red wines, including the Luddite Vineyards Languid Duck, a complex wine with an [interesting genesis](http://www.ludditevineyards.com/wine/languid_duck.html). The loser of the evening was a beautifully made wine that we just didn’t like called Wolftrap, from Boekenhoutskloof, the old and intrepid producer from South Africa. The wine had everything, but it simply had too much fruit for its own good, however badly I wanted to enjoy it. Another disappointment was the “L’hiver” (winter) syrah from Copain’s ‘four seasons’ bottlings. It wasn’t bad, but it was merely fine, and did not have $20 worth of character.

**Easy Soup**
People think that soup needs to cook for hours and hours. I don’t know where this comes from, but it’s ridiculous. You can make this soup in less than an hour, and of that hour about 10 minutes are spent doing something. This makes a great chicken soup with the addition of noodles or rice or matzoh balls after the chicken has been removed. It makes a fantastic cold-night supper with some parsnips, carrots and pearl onions cooked in the broth, served with coarse salt, mustard and *cornichons.* It produces a perfectly cooked chicken for chicken salad or a picnic, with the byproduct of a delectable soup or savory stock.

1 chicken, 3 to 3-1/2 lbs
1 large carrot, split lengthwise
1 leek, split lengthwise and washed, each half tied with a string
3 white peppercorns
3 black peppercorns
1 allspice berry
1 large bay leaf
1 thick slice ginger, smashed (optional)
salt to taste

Rinse the chicken thoroughly inside and out and remove skin, excess fat and innards. Reserve for another use1. If the chicken is to be served whole, truss it with string, or at least tie the legs together and set the wings akimbo. Place the chicken in a deep pot, not enormously wider than the chicken. Place half a carrot and half a leek on either side of it and cover with cold water by 1 to 2 inches. Place pot over high heat, uncovered, and bring to a boil.

Meanwhile, crush peppercorns and allspice berry under the side of a knife or small pot.

While water is heating, gray foamy impurities will rise to the surface. Skim them carefully away with a skimmer or slotted spoon. Do this as needed until the heat is turned off.

When the pot comes to a boil, adjust heat so that it boils gently and cook for five minutes. When it seems that no more impurities are coming to the surface, add pepper (now called *mignonette* pepper), allspice, bay leaf and ginger. After five minutes, turn off heat, cover pot and leave undisturbed for forty-five minutes.

After forty five minutes, remove chicken from pot and place on a platter. If the chicken is to be used whole, skip ahead. If not, slice or hand-shred the chicken meat as soon as it is cool enough to handle. I usually skip the meat from the very ends of the legs and the very ends of the wings. That, along with the bones and cartilage, goes back into the pot with the broth and vegetables. Bring this to a gentle boil and cook for about five or ten minutes, skimming impurities and chasing fat2 until you’re satisfied that it’s done.

Take the larger solids out of the pot and discard. Wet two or three thicknesses of paper towels and use them to line as fine a sieve as you have, preferably a conical *chinois* variety. Gently strain the stock into a clean saucepan. There should be about 8 cups, depending on the size of pot you started with. If there is much more, taste the broth. If it is very weak, you can boil it to concentrate it. Conversely, if it is very strong, it could be diluted.

If using for our Jewish Pho, salt the broth to taste and serve plain in bowls with some or all of the following condiments in bowls for people to make their own soup with: cooked rice noodles, mung beans or other sprouts, the chicken meat, cilantro leaves, lime wedges, hot sauce (like srihacha) and sliced scallions.

If using for soup, add salt to taste, vegetables as desired and pasta or rice. If using pasta, I recommend cooking it separately unless you are certain to use all of the soup right away. Although the broth benefits from the starch released by the pasta, the texture of the pasta degrades very quickly. Lastly, add the chicken to rewarm it and serve.

If using for a poached chicken, remove a small amount of broth before the chicken is ready to cook the vegetable garnishes, then serve hot when the chicken is ready. Serve in soup plates or shallow bowls with mustard, coarse salt and sour pickles, like *cornichons*, cherries, onions, horseradish, etc.

If using for stock, strain it into a container set in a larger container of ice and water, and stir stock occasionally to cool it as quickly as possible (to avoid bacterial growth). Chill and remove solidified fat.

1 I’m not kidding, cut up the skin into 1/2″ pieces and cook it in a pan until it’s brown and crunchy, and scatter it over split pea soup. The rendered fat is great for frying up that liver for a snack, or for frying potatoes. The gizzard is fantastic in gravy. Freeze them until you have a bunch of them.

2 “Chasing” fat from a stock is running a ladle around the surface of stock, pushing the fat into a corner and scooping it out with the edge of the ladle, without wasting a drop of the precious liquid. It’s easier to chill the stock and take away the hardened fat, but if the broth is being used as soup, it benefits from a small amount of surface fat, besides, chasing can be done right away, without waiting for the stock to chill and reheat.

Dinner at Home- Finally

It’s nice to be home again. I haven’t posted much because the Agent and I have been averaging about 6 bags of trash per day since I got back. Throwing out old stuff, cleaning other stuff, unpacking my stuff, etc. About half of my dishes are out and gleaming. 3/4 or so the *batterie de cuisine* is out and about. Next week the butcher block table arrives. The 50 bottle wine fridge is in place. It’s a rental so I’m dealing with the stove. Otherwise, life is good.

The other day, the Agent came home from work and I cooked dinner for him. It sounds easy, doesn’t it? Well, in our world it’s not. It’s not easy when you’re living with the roommate from hell who thinks the kitchen should be cleaned no less than once a year. It’s hard when I’m on the road. It’s hard when he gets done work at 6:30 and I leave for work at 6:15. It’s hard when your whole life is in boxes. But for right now, it’s easy- and it’s nice.

Let’s talk about cranberry beans. They may or may not be botanically identical to Italian borlotti beans, but in the US, borlotti usually refers to a dried bean. There is also an American [heirloom breed](http://www.slowfoodusa.org/ark/cranberry_bean.html) called “true cranberry” and “red cranberry” beans. Apparently this variety is native to the Northeast, specifically Vermont, which is nice for them, although botanically they are only related to standard cranberry beans as shell beans. They’re those pods- if you don’t know- that you might have seen in the supermarket or farmstand that look like they’re moving at light speed: streaked with white, red, fuchsia, magenta and pink. Cranberry Bean PodsCranberry Bean Pods
When you shell them, they’re just as vibrant, spotted with all the colors of their pods. They’re easy to shell, too; just tear off the strings and the beans fall right out. If the photo gives you any indication, these are the most muted lot of cranberry beans I have ever seen. Cranberry BeansCranberry Beans
This may or may not have to do with it being the end of the shell bean season. If anyone knows, please email me.

Beans and squash have a long history in Italian cooking. Everything from favas with early zucchini to cannellini beans with padana; they’re in it together. When I went to the market, I was hoping to pick up a cheese pumpkin, but it’s still a little too early and Stokes Farm had fantastic young butternut squashes, so here we are.

We drank a Bastianich Tocai Friulano 2004, a crisp, affordable white (it’s also the bar wine at Becco) and had some [Ciao Bello](http://www.ciaobellagelato.com/) pistachio gelato for dessert. It’s an easy two-pan midweek meal, Don’t forget to save your pasta water; it’s like good advice when you’re drunk: hazy, but important, though you might not know why.

(I’M NOT SURE WHY I FELT THE NEED TO TYPE THE INGREDIENTS IN ALL CAPS, BUT I’M NOT CHANGING IT NOW.)

Orecchiette With Cranberry Beans and Squash

Serves 2 as a main course, 3 or 4 as a first course.

1 SMALL BUTTERNUT SQUASH (or part of a sugar pie or cheese pumpkin or hubbard squash) PEELED, CUT INTO 1/2″ PIECES (2 TO 2-1/2 CUPS)
1-2 TBSN EXTRA VIRGIN OLIVE OIL
SALT
FRESHLY GROUND WHITE PEPPER
PINCH HERBES DE PROVENCE

1-1/2 CUP SHELLED CRANBERRY BEANS (FROM 3/4 POUND IN THE POD)
2 BAY LEAVES

8 OZ ORECCHIETTE
3 TBSN BUTTER
1/2-1 CUP PASTA WATER
3/4 CUP PECORINO ROMANO, PLUS MORE FOR SERVING
FRESHLY GROUND BLACK PEPPER

Preheat the oven to 425 degrees. Toss squash pieces in barely enough olive oil to coat them and sprinkle with salt, white pepper and a tiny pinch of herbes de provence. Place in the oven and roast for 25-45 minutes- stirring once or twice- until squash is caramelized all over and is just getting dark around the edges. Remove from the oven and allow to cool.

Bring two or three quarts of water to the boil in a saucepan. Add bay leaves and the beans and boil gently for 12-20 minutes, depending on the size of your beans and the time of the year. Drain them when they are just tender. Their color will fade while cooking.

Bring a large pot of salted water to the boil. How much salt? I don’t know. I have heard the figure 1 tablespoon per quart, I have heard one tablespoon for two quarts. I look at how the salt disperses in the water, then I taste it. It should be almost as salty as seawater, just without the sewage. I will, however, come up with a figure for you at some point.

When your water is at a rolling boil, add the pasta and stir immediately. Cook the pasta, stirring frequently, until it is barely *al dente*, which means “to the tooth,” not “toothsome” as some people who shall remain nameless have put forth. It should yield to the bite, but be neither crunchy nor mushy. And remember, unless you are cooking fresh pasta or reheating previously cooked pasta *the only way to know if it is done is to taste it*, and frequently. If you have to err, err on the crunchy side; the pasta will continue to cook as you assemble the sauce.

Dip a pyrex or metal cup into the pasta pot and reserve 1 cup or more pasta water and drain the pasta. Return the pasta to the now dry pot and set over low heat. Add the butter and cheese, stirringly constantly, moving the pot on and off the heat if necessary so the pasta doesn’t stick. Add pasta water as needed or desired to make a saucy consistency. Stir in the beans and squash. Serve in hot bowls and grind black pepper over the top, and serve immediately with additional cheese on the side.

Tomato Soup with Purple Basil… and a Love Affair

I have a crush on the girl from Stokes Farm. Really, she’s a woman, but in my head (like **The Secret Egg Guy**) she’s **The Girl From Stokes Farm**. I have a crush on her tomatoes, her garlic, her eggplants and her seedlings, but I have a crush on her, too.

She teases me every August with her breathtaking dark black brandywines, her saucy federles and her sexy, racing-striped green zebras. No matter what happens, I keep coming back for more.

This Summer I will have to do without her, having only just glimpsed her wares before they were really in swing. The Agent may get to enjoy her smiling gaze, without me, and I must pine.

(The Stokes Farmstand is at the Northeast corner of the Saturday Greenmarket at Union Square. The **Girl from Stokes Farm** is a curly-haired redhead with an enormous smile, but I don’t know her name.)

Tomato Soup with Purple BasilTomato Soup with Purple Basil
A note about the photo: I hate that tablecloth. I hate it because it’s ugly, and because it makes the soup look weird. I doctored up the contrast a little bit, but I’m no expert. -JF

Tomato Soup with Purple Basil
Serves 6-8

The recipe1 that follows is in progress, and is easily adjustable and addable and subtractable.

1 cup chopped onion, about 1 medium
2 tbsn extra-virgin olive oil
2 tbsn butter
1 small serrano chile, minced (I remove the white ribs, more on that later)
2-1/4 to 1-1/2 lbs ripe tomatoes, almost any variety, chopped. Sauce varieties (roma, federle) will make a thicker soup and, well, taste more like sauce (this isn’t necessarily a bad thing)
Salt and freshly ground black AND white pepper
up to 1 tbsn sugar, optional
1 handful purple basil leaves, torn (about 1/2 cup)
1 cup (or more) vegetable or chicken stock
6 splashes champagne vinegar, optional
6 tbsn or more sour cream, optional

Saute the onion in butter and oil over medium-low heat until translucent, stirring as needed. Do not brown. Season with salt and pepper. Add serrano chile and saute until fragrant (careful, it will wrinkle your nose, and possibly irritate it, also your eyes). Add tomatoes, juice, seeds, the whole schmear. Add salt and pepper to taste, and if the tomatoes are very acidic, add a small amount of sugar, if needed2. Add the basil and stir well, add 1 cup vegetable stock and stir again.

Partially cover and adjust temperature so that tomatoes perk slowly. Simmer over low heat, stirring regularly, for 20-25 minutes, until tomatoes are more or less liquid. This might be an ideal moment to use the immersion blender (hint hint), but since I don’t have one, I can’t tell for for certain. What I can say is that a food mill with a medium blade did the perfect job, leaving in a reasonable amount of seeds, which I like. If you used the finest blade, the texture would be slightly lighter, but all the seeds would be eradicated.

Adjust the thickness of the soup with more vegetable stock, if needed, and simmer soup for a minute or two. Season to taste with salt and pepper.

Serve in hot bowls with a splash of champagne vinegar stirred in at the last moment and a dollop of sour cream, if desired (but why the hell wouldn’t you desire either?).

As Jacques Pepin used to say, Happy cook-EENG!

1 As a rule, I will only post a recipe in formal recipe format if it meets one of the following two criteria: 1) it is in the testing stages, meaning measurements and cooking times can be reasonably believed, and then it will be marked as “in progress” or 2) if it is fully tested, and recipe-following-ready.

2 Use it sparingly: sugar with tomatoes is one of those voodoo things that’s difficult to explain. If you just add it at the end, it doesn’t do much, but when you put it in the beginning, it reaches caramel temperatures, and although it doesn’t “caramelize” in the traditional sense, it cooks in a way you might not expect. At any rate, if you like tomatoes, it’s better to err on the acidic side; the sour cream will go a long way in your absolution.