May 24, 2012

Goodbye To All That

I am very clearly my father's daughter. I'm my mother's daughter, too, in a lot of ways, but if you ever see me and my dad next to each other, you'll know exactly where I came from. Along with some obvious physical characteristics, I inherited an almost pathological love of cheese and a pretty serious cholesterol problem. (Love you, Dad!)

I've been ignoring my genetics for a little too long, or so my doctor informed me at my last check-up. But I'm solidly in my 30s now and have to face the proverbial music. What this means for the kitchen is that I can no longer rely on the formula of veggies + eggs = dinner. That is going to be the challenge for the year. Eggs are a good source of protein, they keep in the fridge for quite a while, and they cook up very quickly. That last point is especially useful when one arrives home from an evening at the dojo with low blood sugar and about 20 minutes to go until stomach implosion. But eggs, like cheese, butter, ice cream, and shellfish, have to feature a lot less in my meals going forward. Sigh.

Moving on.

Luckily for me, I enjoy eating vegetables (as you might have figured out by now). I don't believe in veganism as a permanent way of life, but I do often wind up eating meals that include no animal products. This time, it was on purpose (the day after getting the results of my blood work).

Start with a big sweet potato and a bunch of asparagus, and maybe some garlic and ginger.

(The onion is a red herring.)

Oh, except really, you start with some couscous. Put a cup or so of dried couscous in a heatproof bowl, and stir in a little olive oil, salt, and chopped scallion. Boil a kettle of water and pour it over everything. Stick a plate on top of the bowl and then go about your business with the rest of the meal.

Now back to the veggies. Grate the sweet potato coarsely. Heat some peanut oil in a big skillet and stir fry with some ginger, garlic, and salt until it starts to get tender. You don't want to overcook it, because it will get all mushy and then the texture won't contrast with the couscous.

When the sweet potatoes have reached that sort of al dente stage, add in the asparagus, chopped into bite-sized pieces.

Stick a lid on the skillet to steam the asparagus, but again, watch the timing. Overcooked asparagus can be tragic.

Once the veggies are cooked to your liking, plate everything up. Big scoop of couscous (note that traditionally, couscous is served with a fork), couple big scoops of veg, and a few spoonfuls of harissa, or Tabasco, or sriracha, or vinaigrette...

This is a really fast dinner. Grating is a good technique to remember for root vegetables when you don't have an hour to spare before you risk collapsing from hunger on the kitchen floor.

Sweet Potato and Asparagus Couscous

serves 3-4

1 cup couscous

1 Tbsp olive oil

2-3 scallions, finely chopped

1 large sweet potato

1 lb. asparagus, trimmed & cut into bite-sized pieces

1 inch fresh ginger, peeled & grated

2 cloves garlic, minced

1-2 Tbsp peanut oil

salt

Toppings: harissa; sriracha; Tabasco; etc.

Boil a kettle of water. Mix up the couscous with the olive oil, chopped scallions, and 1/2 tsp salt in a heatproof bowl. Pour about 1 1/2 cups of boiling water into the bowl, stir it up, and put a plate on top of it.

Heat the peanut oil over medium-high heat in a large skillet. Grate the sweet potato and add it to the pan with the ginger, garlic, and a little salt. Stir fry for a few minutes, until the potato is starting to soften. Add the asparagus pieces, stir, and put a lid on the pan until everything is just tender.

Scoop some of the couscous into a bowl, and put some of the cooked vegetables on top of it. Dress it with the sauce of your choice.

May 10, 2012

Soup You Can Eat With a Fork

Here is the internal monologue that created this recipe:

"Look! There are ramps at the greenmarket! I should buy a lot of them!"

"What goes with ramps? Well, I made that potato-ramp gratin once that was really good. I'm not in the mood for a gratin, but I like potatoes. A pound or so should be enough, right?"

"Mmm, that chorizo they're grilling at Flying Pigs smells awesome. Ooh, I wonder what Russian sausage is? Let's find out."

"And you know what I haven't had in a while? Oyster mushrooms."

(Cut to kitchen, several hours later.)

"I have some cranberry beans lying around don't I? And look, there's a can of tomatoes, too. This is starting to sound kind of like cassoulet. Only not, because I don't have any duck. But I have duck fat in the freezer! Oh, I see where this is going."

(Cut to a couple more hours later.)

Is it a soup? Is it a stew? Were the mushrooms a step too far?

On the mushrooms, the answer was probably yes, so I'm leaving them out of the recipe below. Alternately, if you want to veggify this, use mushrooms instead of the sausage, and olive oil instead of duck fat.

Also, I didn't get quite as carried away as I might have with the ramps, so I supplemented with half a yellow onion. It worked great, but so would a third bunch of ramps.

And for the sausage, use whatever kind you like. The Russian variety I found had a sweet spiciness to it, and that worked pretty well with the sort of smokiness of the ramps, but almost anything would be good. (I would not recommend chorizo.)

Cassoulet-Inspired Stew

serves 6-8

1 lb. sausage

2 Tbsp. duck fat

1 lb. Yukon Gold potatoes, cut into bite-sized pieces

3 small bunches ramps, bulbs & leaves separated, all cut into pieces

3 cloves garlic, chopped

1 lb. pinto beans, soaked & rinsed (unless they are relatively fresh, like from Cayuga or Rancho Gordo as opposed to the bulk food aisle)

1 14-oz. can chopped tomatoes

salt

Cut up the sausages into thick slices. Heat up a soup pot over medium heat and cook the slices for a minute or two on each side, until they are browned and mostly cooked through. Remove to a plate.

Put the duck fat in the pot, and when it's melted, add the potatoes. Stir occasionally for 5 minutes or so, and when they start to brown, add the bulb ends of the ramps and cook another few minutes. Add the chopped garlic, and stir.

When the garlic is fragrant, add the beans, tomatoes, ramp leaves, some salt, and enough water to cover everything by a couple of inches. Bring to a simmer and let cook over very low heat until the beans and potatoes are tender (probably about 45-60 minutes, depending on your beans). Taste for salt.

April 29, 2012

Pie for Dinner

I would like to pretend that this mushroom cabbage galette from Deborah Madison is some kind of health food. I mean, it's cabbage! And mushrooms are good for you! And you can totally use low-fat sour cream and even I will not scoff. But let's not kid ourselves. Galette = pie. Plus, Smitten Kitchen has made this before, and you know how she feels about healthy food. And there's the bit at the end where you dump a load of melted butter on top of everything. So let's abandon these virtuous fantasies and get with the cooking.

Start with the dough--I went with a yeasted tart dough (much simpler than it sounds), though DM suggests an alternative galette dough that's basically just pie crust.

While it rises (or chills, depending on what kind you're making), saute a diced onion and some sliced shiitake mushrooms, with thyme, tarragon, & dill in a good amount of butter.

When they're soft, add a big pile of thinly sliced cabbage, a bit of salt, and a half cup of water. Cook, covered, until the cabbage is tender.

At this point, the recipe instructs you to add water and then raise the heat to cook it all off, ending with a relatively dry pan of veggies. I would recommend NOT adding any more water--just cook off whatever is left in the pan when you take the lid off. Turn off the heat, then stir in a pile of chopped parsley, a chopped hard-boiled egg, and some sour cream. Splash in a little vinegar (white wine is fine if you don't have tarragon, as called for) and season with & salt and pepper.

Set the oven to 400F. By this time, your dough should be properly risen or chilled. Roll it out into a big, thin circle. Another instruction I don't entirely agree with: place the rolled-out dough on the BACK of a sheet pan. Then pile the filling into the center, in a circle about 7 or 8 inches across, and fold the edges of the dough up over it. Brush the whole thing with a couple tablespoons of melted butter and bake for 25-30 minutes.

The reason I would suggest putting the galette on the normal side of a sheet pan can be seen above. If you are not 100% expert at rolling out dough without holes; if you were not 100% thorough in making sure all the water was cooked out of the filling; and if you are maybe a bit sloppy in brushing on the melted butter: all of these are reasons to want a pan with sides. But guess what? I know who cleans the oven.

And your galette will not suffer from it, even if your oven does.

The galette gets served with horseradish sauce. You can probably buy some, or make it yourself with a mixture of sour cream, grated horseradish, chives, some sugar, and a tiny bit of salt & white wine vinegar.

April 22, 2012

Harissa-holic

I am capable of eating embarassing quantities of hummus. It is my preferred pre-dinner snack on those nights when I think my stomach is going to implode before I get a plate of food to the table (a frequent occurrence if I come home from the dojo and there are no leftovers). It is a perfect combination of rich and salty and tangy and sweet, and I wasn't even looking for something to replace it when I found this recipe for carrot puree. Which in addition to being rich and salty and tangy and sweet is also a full serving of vegetables. Or multiple servings, if you power through as much of it as I did.

Admittedly, it doesn't sound exciting. It's basically spiced mashed carrots. But look closer, and you'll see that the spice in question is harissa, and that makes all the difference. And if, like me, you like to keep a jar of harissa in the fridge at all times just in case (there are plenty of emergency situations where that stuff comes in handy), you can have this on the table in about 25 minutes.

Start by pretending you're making mashed potatoes, except that they're carrots you peel & toss in a pot of salted water.

Simmer until they are soft, then drain and put back in the pot. Heat them in the dry pot until the water on the outside of the carrots has mostly evaporated.

Then add in the seasoning: olive oil, white wine vinegar, harissa, ground cumin, and ground ginger. Play around with the ratios. Not surprisingly, I prefer more harissa and less oil and vinegar than this recipe calls for.

Then get out your potato masher and mashmashmash. (My double-masher is fun and quick to use, but sadly more difficult to clean than a single-layer one.)

Taste it to adjust the seasoning as you see fit, add salt and pepper, whatever.

It is wonderful on a cracker, or bread. Or pita. Or maybe get all meta and dip a carrot in there. Or just a spoon.

I was out of shredded coconut (tragedy!) when I made this, so I have yet to try the dukkah spice mix that is meant to accompany this. It sounds wonderful, but frankly, I can't imagine that my enjoyment of the carrot dip could possibly be raised to a higher level.

Side note: when the Flyers make it to the Stanley Cup Finals and my friend J. and I make a hockey version of the snackadium, this would be perfect for some element of that.

April 2, 2012

Bambi in a Pot

I am slightly enamored of venison. I eat it almost any chance I get, which mostly means I order it on the very rare occasions when (a) I've chosen to eat out and (b) venison is on the menu. For some reason, in this city of gastronomic wonders, deer meat is just not something you see at the butcher counters of even very upscale markets, and only infrequently on restaurant menus. And I have to say, I don't understand this. I know that there is a pretty serious problem with overpopulation of deer (and geese) in the mid-Atlantic region, and yet markets and menus are not flooded with venison and goose. Wouldn't that be a perfect solution to all kinds of problems, not the least of which is an overdependence on factory farms for meat? Gah.

Anyway, it turns out that the Quattro's stand at the Union Square Greenmarket DOES have venison, at least sometimes, so I bought a couple of pounds of stew meat, and stashed it in my freezer until I figured out what to make. I had never cooked venison before, and it took some time to find a recipe I thought I could trust. And then the week I wanted to make the stew happened to coincide with the beginning of a cold/flu/plague that took me out for almost 2 weeks. I was not yet (completely) down for the count when I made this, but I still purposely chose a pretty simple recipe, with only a few ingredients, both for a basic flavor and ease of preparation. So it's kind of key to make sure the meat and greens you use are top quality here, because there isn't much going on that will cover up anything less than the best.

You'll want a couple pounds of stew meat (something a little fattier than what I had would probably not be a bad thing), and a couple pounds of greens, like dandelions, escarole, or chicory. Also a pound of fennel, some cayenne, and salt. For the most part, that is the ingredient list.

Wash the greens, chop them up, and mix them together. Put about a third of them in the bottom of a big soup pot, topped with a third of the chopped fennel, a sprinkle of cayenne, and some salt. Add half the meat (salted).

Repeat the layers, ending with the last third of the greens and fennel, and then pour in water--just enough to get to the top of the greens.

Bring to a boil very slowly, then turn down to a simmer and cook for 45 minutes without stirring. THEN give it a stir, and again every half hour until the meat is tender (about 2 hours total). Taste for salt and spice, and add in about 2/3 a cup of grated Pecorino Romano. Serve with bread and more grated cheese.

This was a much more watery stew than I was expecting--more like a soup, really--but here's the secret I discovered over the rest of the week, as my cold-addled tastebuds decided everything on a takeout menu tasted weird and could only tolerate the simplest of flavors: this stew is even better, I think, if you add in a little rice or barley as it's reheating. Just toss in a handful or so of dry grains for each bowl you're heating up, and cook until the grain is tender. It'll soak up some of the extra liquid, and adds a little more substance if you don't happen to have a good loaf of crusty bread lying around.

The CSA Files

an incomplete record of what one amateur chef in Manhattan is making from her share in the Stoneledge Farm CSA

Goodbye To All That

Soup You Can Eat With a Fork

Pie for Dinner

Harissa-holic

Bambi in a Pot