Recently at the store, I came across some fresh cranberry beans. Or rather, I came across some strikingly mottled magenta and cream pods that (upon further research back at home) turned out to be cranberry beans.
Sometimes, I like to treat myself to some unfamiliar fresh produce. I like the challenge of knowing that there must be something people do with a certain item, but having only the slightest clue to what exactly it might be. Such was the case here. Obviously, people cook fresh beans all the time, but it’s one thing that I had somehow managed to avoid thus far in my culinary exploits. But those pretty pods turned my head, and two pounds of them charmed their way home with me.
A little searching turned up a boatload of very basic and similar ways to cook the fresh beans: basically in salted water, perhaps with an onion or bit of celery. One common (and initially puzzling) thread among those recipes was that, invariably, at least one commenter remarked on how bland they turned out.
After a moment’s pondering, it struck me that of course they’re going to be bland. They’re plain beans. One wouldn’t enjoy them any more than any other pile of unadorned, ungarnished, unglamorous, plain beans (unless one really enjoys plain beans, that is).
But toss those beans with with a quick vinaigrette, plenty of fresh herbs, and a few other highly-flavorful supporting players, and there’s no way they could be derided as “bland”. Even better would be to make sure they’re cooked in something more interesting than just salted water. The leek tops in my freezer waiting to be used for stock were just the thing to help; a quartered onion, some celery, and a quick bouquet garni provided needed backup.
In this particular bouquet garni were a few sprigs of parsley, some fresh thyme, black peppercorns, whole allspice, a couple of juniper berries, some ultra-hot dried pequin peppers, and two bay leaves. Tied up in cheesecloth, they were easy to remove from the broth when the beans were fully cooked.
As I knew it would, the gorgeous pink striping on the beans disappeared completely in cooking, and the broth took on a faintly rosy hue. The leeks, onion, and bouquet garni remained floating on top of the broth, easily lifted out when necessary. The cranberry beans settled to the bottom, and had to be strained from the broth.
The broth is highly flavorful; don’t even think about throwing it out. It makes the most amazing soup, especially due to the starch content from the beans, which provides a delightful body absent in most broth-based soups. I can see simply simmering kale or mustard greens in it, with maybe a parmesan rind tossed in for good measure.
I’ve written two recipes below. One is for the plain old cooked beans, to be used however you see fit; the other is for the warm bean salad I made with half of the cooked beans. Stay tuned for what to make with the other half!
Basic Cooked Cranberry Beans Makes about 1 pound (or 3 cups) cooked beans
I don’t specify in this particular recipe what may be done with either the broth or the beans, but both are so flavorful that I don’t think you’ll have many problems finding uses. Use the broth in most places you would use chicken or vegetable stock (it will be rather cloudy); see below for a recipe specifically for the warm, just-cooked beans.
5 or so stems fresh parsley
2 to 3 stalks fresh thyme
2 bay leaves
1/2 teaspoon whole black peppercorns
5 dried pequin peppers (optional, also may substitute other small dried chili peppers)
5 whole juniper berries (optional)
3 whole allspice berries
1 onion, peeled and quartered
2 stalks celery, chopped roughly
Green tops from 1 bunch leeks (save whites for another use), washed well
2 pounds fresh cranberry beans in pods, shelled and rinsed
1. In a triple-thick layer of cheesecloth, tie up the parsley, thyme, bay leaves, peppercorns, peppers, juniper, and allspice into a bouquet garni. Twine may be used, or simply tie the corners of the cheesecloth together.
2. Place bouquet garni and all remaining ingredients into a 5 to 6 quart pot, and cover with cold water. Bring just to the boiling point over high or medium-high heat, then reduce heat to maintain a simmer, over medium-low or low.
3. Simmer uncovered for about 15 minutes, or until beans are fully cooked. If unsure, cut a bean in half. If the center looks chalky and white, continue cooking another 5 minutes or so, until beans are done.
4. Using a strainer, lift out leek tops, onion, celery, and bouquet garni. Discard. Strain beans from broth with either a colander or strainer, reserving both.
Warm Cranberry Bean Salad Makes 2 large or 4 small servings
1/2 cup pecans
2 teaspoons olive oil
1/4 cup panko (Japanese-style breadcrumbs)
1 teaspoon Dijon mustard
2 to 3 tablespoons Sherry vinegar
1/4 to 1/3 cup good quality olive oil, as needed
1/4 cup roughly chopped fresh basil
1/4 cup roughly chopped fresh parsley leaves
1 1/2 cups warm Basic Cooked Cranberry Beans (see above)
Salt and pepper, as needed
1. Heat the oven to 350º F. Spread the pecans in a single layer on a baking sheet and toast in the oven for 6 to 8 minutes, or until fragrant. While still warm, chop roughly.
2. In a sauté pan, heat the 2 teaspoons olive oil over medium-high heat. When hot, add the panko and toast until just beginning to turn golden brown. Remove from heat, season to taste with salt and pepper (and a little cayenne, if you like), and add 2 to 3 tablespoons of the more finely chopped pecans. Toss, and set aside.
3. In a large bowl, whisk together the Dijon mustard and Sherry vinegar. Drizzle in the olive oil slowly, whisking constantly to emulsify, until glossy and the dressing balances into a flavor that tastes good to you.
4. Add the basil, parsley, warm beans, and remaining pecans to the dressing in the bowl. Toss to combine. Serve, topped with the panko mixture as desired. (A little grating of Parmesan would not be out of place here.)
I’m not a big fan of cold weather, or Winter in general. It’s endless months of frozen toes, fingers stiff with cold, the shock of crawling reluctantly from a warm bed, bright red noses that won’t stop running. But despite the physical discomforts, I can find spots of cheer: tiny sparkling holiday lights everywhere, the rush of warmth from a cup of tea and a thick blanket, watching fat snowflakes flutter past my window.
And soup.
Soup, in my house, is most decidedly a cold-weather affair. You can make your gazpachos, and corn bisques, and chilled cucumber things all summer long; and they are certainly fine and well. But for my money, I’d rather have a proper meal of soup, a filling bowl of hot and deeply flavored stuff, far more than some thin, cold liquid that’s halfway to being a beverage.
So soups are reserved for the cold, and I can scarcely think of a better way to warm both you and your house than with a big, bubbling pot of broth. I made this particular soup the other day, when a craving for mushrooms struck me hard, and the chill creeping in through the windows demanded a bowl of something hot.
Browsing through my bookmarked recipes, I came across a recipe for Buttermilk Squash Soup, from Heidi of 101 Cookbooks. And, as luck would have it, I just so happened to have a bit of good-quality leftover buttermilk knocking about in my fridge, threatening to go South if I didn’t use it post-haste.
Knowing mushrooms’ affinity for things creamy and tangy, I decided that buttermilk-enriched recipe was the perfect starting point. Using the loose framework of “make soup” and “add buttermilk at the end”, I patched a recipe together starting with a base of plenty of onion and garlic, with a potato thrown in for some body.
When making soup, after sweating the vegetables together I like to deglaze the pan (whether it needs it or not) with a spot of wine, or some other liquor, or even beer, depending on the primary flavor of the soup. Alcohol, scientifically speaking, opens up different and more complex flavors than can be achieved without it, especially in slow-simmered things. And, you know, if some happens to accidentally spill into a nearby glass, it would surely be a crime to let it go to waste. Purely on accident, of course.
In this soup, I used a combination of white wine (since I had some) and only a splash of brandy, as brandy and mushrooms are great friends, but I didn’t want the other flavors to get overwhelmed with its strong caramel and vanilla nature. A generous dose of thyme added a light, herbaceous note to complement the earthy mushrooms.
I personally prefer soups with a few bits of items in them, so a few handfuls of mushrooms were set aside to be added in later, after cooking and blending the other ingredients to a smooth purée. Soups are simply more interesting if you have things in them to chew on.
mushrooms reserved for later addition
To prevent the buttermilk from possibly separating or curdling, the soup was cooked and puréed first, and the buttermilk added at the last minute, along with some fresh parsley for a little brightness. A quenelle of pesto on top was a welcome garnish, but if you have none on hand, a swirl of good olive oil is just as lovely.
Thick and full-flavored, robust and so slightly tangy, this soup was exactly what I wanted on that cold evening. Despite its drab hue, it was the prettiest thing I’d seen all day. It warmed, and comforted; and if there’s more soups like this in store for me this Winter, I say bring on the cold.
Buttermilk Mushroom Soup
Makes 6 to 8 servings
This is a fairly thick soup, one with a bit of heft to it. If you prefer a thinner soup, just add additional water or stock to thin it to the desired consistency.
2 tablespoons butter
1 tablespoon olive oil
2 medium onions, chopped
3 ribs of celery, chopped
1 large potato (about 12 ounces), diced
6 cloves garlic, minced
5 ounces oyster mushrooms
5 ounces shiitake mushrooms, stemmed
1 pound crimini mushrooms
1/2 cup white wine (or dry vermouth, or a splash of brandy)
1 bay leaf
2 tablespoons dried thyme (or several sprigs of fresh thyme)
2 cups vegetable or chicken stock
1/4 cup minced fresh parsley
1 1/4 cups buttermilk, at room temperature
Salt and pepper, as needed
Olive oil, for garnish
1. In a large pot, heat the butter and olive oil together over medium-high heat. Add the onions, and cook until just translucent, 5 to 10 minutes. Add the celery, potato, and garlic, and cook until softened, another 5 to 10 minutes.
2. Meanwhile, chop the mushrooms into 1 inch pieces as needed. Reserve about 2 cups, to be added in later. Add the remaining mushrooms to the pot, and cook until softened, about 5 minutes.
3. Add the white wine or vermouth, scraping the bottom of the pot to release any browned bits. Cook until nearly dry, then season lightly with salt and pepper. Add the bay leaf, thyme, and stock. Add enough water to cover all vegetables with liquid; you may not need much. Bring to a boil, then reduce heat to medium-low and simmer for at least 15 minutes, or until all vegetables are very soft.
4. Purée soup in the pot with an immersion blender, or by transferring in batches to a blender, taking care to hold the lid securely on when puréeing the hot soup. The blended soup will be very thick. Return soup to the pot, and add the reserved mushrooms. Cover and cook over medium-low heat for about 10 minutes, or until mushrooms have softened. Add the chopped parsley and buttermilk. Taste, and correct seasoning with salt and pepper. Serve with a drizzle of olive oil on top and some crusty bread.
Since I’ve been neglecting you all lately, here’s a special edition Five Minute Photo Shoot: one with a recipe!
I threw this dish together the other night when some friends came over for dinner. I was just about to take off for a whirlwind trip to my hometown, New Orleans, and felt I should make room in my freezer for all the goodies I was planning to bring back. A block of tasso (a highly spiced bit of cured ham used for seasoning in Cajun and Creole cooking) was begging to be used up, and I was craving some serious greenery; this is what resulted.
The flavorful tasso got sautéed with an onion and some crimini mushrooms, before adding in a can of chickpeas and about a million collard greens (which always cook down into oblivion). A splash of chicken broth, a rind of Parmesan, and a bay leaf tied everything together, and made just the sort of thing I want to eat on these newly-chilly Fall nights. For dinner, I served it alone with a wedge of Northern-style cornbread; it went over rice for lunch, with a dollop of yogurt on top and some whole-wheat flatbread on the side.
Greens with Tasso and Chickpeas Makes 6 to 8 servings
I used collard greens here, but you can substitute mustard greens if you like. Instead of the hard-to-find tasso (and in case you don’t want to make your own), use any spicy, highly-flavored sausage you like, such as Spanish chorizo. Add extra broth if you’d rather have a more soup-like dish. Do not skip the Tabasco sauce; it makes the dish. You could stir it into the pot as it cooks, but I much prefer the random and more potent spice it gives by adding it at the table.
1 tablespoon olive oil
1 large onion, chopped
12 to 16 ounces tasso, cubed
8 ounces crimini mushrooms, quartered
1 can (15 ounces) chickpeas, drained and rinsed
1 bay leaf
1 sprig thyme
1/4 teaspoon freshly-grated nutmeg
3 pounds collard greens, thoroughly washed, ribs removed, and chopped
2 cups chicken broth
1 rind from a used wedge of Parmesan
3 scallions, chopped
1/3 cup parsley leaves, roughly chopped
1 to 2 tablespoons fresh lemon juice
Salt and black pepper, as needed
Toasted pine nuts, optional garnish
Tabasco sauce, not optional garnish
1. In a large stock pot, heat the olive oil over medium heat. Add the chopped onion, and sauté until translucent, 5 to 10 minutes. Add the tasso, and cook until tasso browns, about 5 minutes. Add the mushrooms, cooking until they release their liquid, about 5 minutes. Add the chickpeas, bay leaf, thyme, and nutmeg. Stir and cook until fragrant, about 5 minutes more.
2. Meanwhile, prepare the collard greens, which will take longer than you think. As you chop them, add them to the pot. Stir to avoid burning. When all greens have been added, add broth and Parmesan rind. Cover loosely, reduce heat to medium-low, and let simmer about 15 minutes, stirring occasionally.
3. Remove pot from heat. Remove bay leaf (and Parmesan rind, if inedible). Stir in chopped scallions and parsley leaves. Add lemon juice, salt, and freshly-ground black pepper to taste. Serve immediately in bowls, or over rice, with toasted pine nuts (optional) and Tabasco (not optional).
I know it’s old hat by now, but I wanted to share the menu I prepared for a recent World Cup party in honor of the US game against Algeria. (I might’ve shown you the US versus Slovenia menu, but I forgot my camera that night.)
I’m relatively new to the cuisine of Northern Africa, but the more I learn, the more I love about it. So many spices! (And I do love me some spices.) Lamb! Flatbreads! Mint tea! Couscous! Honey and almonds! So when I heard the US was playing Algeria, I got very excited. It was a struggle to keep the number of Algerian dishes to a manageable level.
On the American food team, there was a giant Cobb salad (recipe here), as well as some gussied-up mocha Rice Krispies treats for dessert. Representing Algeria were chakhchouka served with couscous and flatbread, stuffed dates, and mint tea.
Of course, we had orange wedges for halftime. It may be the World Cup, but it’s still soccer.
Chakhchouka is typically a lamb and chickpea stew, served over torn bits of thin semolina flatbread called rougag, and is eaten with the hands; I took a few liberties with the idea, not wanting the decidedly American crowd to have to stray from the familiar fork or spoon. My chakhchouka was a chicken and chickpea stew, with at least 15 different spices, served over couscous, with a thick wheat-flour flatbread known as khubz alongside. Perhaps not precisely authentic chakhchouka, but it was close enough.
One hit of the evening was the Deglet Noor dates, stuffed with a fragrant mixture of finely-chopped nuts, brown sugar, honey, spices, and rose water. The homely things couldn’t have been simpler to put together, but the sticky things charmed everyone with their exotic complexity. A genius move from one guest paired a piece of bacon from the Cobb salad with a stuffed date; the smoky salt of the pork with the chewy sweet dates made me suddenly wish I had wrapped each one in proscuitto and baked until crisp and lightly caramelized. Next time.
I couldn’t resist serving Rice Krispies treats for dessert, those most American of American sweets. But, being the person I am, I also couldn’t resist using a markedly posh recipe for them. (We’re all familiar with the standard Rice Krispies treat, yes?) Here, cocoa is mixed into the cereal-marshmallow mixture, and the bars are sandwiched and drizzled with a mocha ganache.
The recipe headnotes mention a “tiny jolt of coffee flavor”. This is wrong. Not that it’s a bad thing, however. Normally, a mocha ganache has a mere hint of coffee, just enough to deepen the flavor of the chocolate. This ganache didn’t hint, it bellowed. “COFFEE!” Perhaps the instant coffee I used was a bit strong, but I added the full 1 tablespoon as directed. I personally thought it was perfect, especially with the relatively bland sweetness of the cereal part of the dessert. Proceed at your own discretion. (A side note: I doubled the amount of marshmallow-cereal mixture, and still had ganache left over.)
Unfortunately, this is the end of the US-themed World Cup menus; but that doesn’t mean there won’t be another World Cup party in the near future. Stay tuned for more international food battles!
this girl will be waiting for it
Chakhchouka (Chicken and Chickpea Stew) Adapted from RecipeZaar and VitamineDZ
Serves 6 to 8
The main seasoning ingredient in this stew is ras el hanout, a seasoning blend ubiquitous in North African cooking. Like its Indian counterpart, garam masala, ras el hanout is not a specific recipe, but a mixture that depends on the whim of the chef or spice house owner. I mixed my own, but there are pre-mixed versions available. A good starter recipe is found here; feel free to experiment with the blend to fit your tastes.
2 tablespoons olive oil
3 chicken breasts halves, patted dry
2 medium onions, chopped
1 to 2 tablespoons ras el hanout, to taste
1 tablespoon sweet paprika
1 teaspoon cayenne pepper
1/2 teaspoon black pepper
1 bay leaf
2 tablespoons tomato paste
5 cloves garlic, chopped roughly
2 carrots, peeled and chopped
2 zucchini, chopped
5 new potatoes (about 1/2 pound), chopped
1 (16 ounce) can chickpeas, rinsed
2 to 3 quarts chicken or vegetable stock, or water
2 tablespoons dried mint
1 tablespoon balsamic vinegar
Salt and black pepper, as needed
Cooked couscous, to serve
1. In a large stock pot, heat the olive oil over medium-high heat. Sprinkle the chicken breasts on both sides with salt and black pepper. Add the chicken (skin-side down, if applicable), and cook until lightly browned, about 5 minutes. Turn the breasts over, and brown the other side, 4 to 5 minutes. Remove to a plate, and let cool slightly. When cool enough to handle, chop meat into 1 inch pieces (discarding skin and bone, if applicable).
2. Add the onions to the pan, and stir to coat with the oil. Let cook until the onions soften and turn translucent, about 10 minutes. Add the ras el hanout, paprika, cayenne, black pepper, and bay leaf. Cook, stirring, until fragrant, about 2 minutes. Add the tomato paste and garlic, and stir to coat. Season lightly with salt, about 1/2 teaspoon.
3. Add the carrots, zucchini, potatoes, chickpeas, and chopped chicken. Add enough stock or water to cover. Bring to a boil over high heat, then reduce heat to medium or medium-low to maintain a simmer. Liquid level should never drop below the top of the solids; add additional liquid as needed.
4. Simmer for 1 hour, or until vegetables are cooked to desired softness. Taste, and correct seasoning with salt and pepper. Remove from heat, and stir in dried mint and balsamic vinegar. Serve in bowls over cooked couscous.
Feel free to experiment with the nut and spice mixtures in this recipe. The filling is appropriately sweet, but the amount of brown sugar may be reduced if you prefer. For a special treat, try wrapping these in proscuitto or bacon and baking until the meat crisps. Serve those either warm or at room temperature.
3/4 cup almonds
1/2 cup walnuts (or pecans, macadamias, cashews, pistchios, or a mixture)
2 tablespoons brown sugar
2 to 4 tablespoons honey
2 teaspoons ground cinnamon
1/4 teaspoon ground nutmeg
1/4 teaspoon ground cloves
1/4 teaspoon ground allspice
1 three-fingered pinch salt
1 to 2 tablespoons rosewater (or orange flower water), as needed
30 dried Deglet Noor dates, pitted
1. If using raw nuts, toast by spreading in a single layer on a rimmed baking sheet. Bake at 350º F for 5 to 9 minutes, or until lightly golden and fragrant, stirring halfway through. Let cool slightly.
2. In a food processor, pulse the nuts until chopped finely. Place in a medium bowl. Add the sugar, 2 tablespoons honey, cinnamon, nutmeg, cloves, allspice, and salt. Stir until well combined. Add 1 tablespoon rosewater, and stir to blend.
3. Squeeze a little of the mixture together. If it does not hold together, add additional honey or rosewater as desired until it clumps.
4. Stuff the pitted dates with teaspoons of the nut mixture. Dates may be served immediately, or stuffed up to two days ahead and stored in an airtight container at room temperature.
As soon as Spring breaks here in Chicago, something amazing happens. Aside from the trees greening themselves overnight, and the frenzied blooming of flowers, there’s a sea change of a decidedly more human sort. All at once, your social calendar just blows up.
People crawl out of their Winter hidey-holes, and oh my goodness we should do something! Dinner plans form on weeknights, not just the obligatory Saturday night outing. Emails flurry nearly every afternoon, in a back-and-forth of forming plans to go anywhere. And suddenly, everyone is outside, in that primal need to enjoy the weather while it lasts.
My two collaborators, Taryn and Cybelle, and I are certainly not immune to this need. Knowing how delightful a meal al fresco can be, we decided on hand pies for our final Savory and Sweet match-up. Hand pies are perfect for an outdoor gathering: easily portable, and can be eaten with one hand while holding down the picnic blanket in a gust of wind. Wrap one in parchment for each guest, toss in a bag with some fresh fruit, and you’ve got a party to go.
don't forget beverages
The savory offering here is a chicken and chorizo pie, which might more aptly be called an empanada. There’s a touch of whole wheat flour in the all-butter crust, which lends a rusticity that befits the unfussy nature of the dish. The filling is a loose mélange of dark chicken meat and vivacious Spanish chorizo, shot through with fruity green olives and the occasional sweetness of a golden raisin. If you’re following along at home, the rhubarb chutney from earlier this week was simply fantastic with these, if a touch over the top. It all depends on how gilded you prefer your lilies.
On the sweet side, we took advantage of the glut of berries in stores at the moment, and decided on mixed-berry pies for dessert. Brushed with an egg wash for a golden gleam, and dusted with coarse sugar, I can just see these sparkling in the late-afternoon sun, in the park or on the back porch. The cabernet-colored filling spilling out of the seams might have been avoided by cutting small vents in the tops of the pies, true; but I love the slightly-chewy gummi-fruit texture of those overcooked bits. And besides, it makes them look positively exuberant.
exuberant, or defiant
For both crusts, I’ve written the recipes to use my favorite technique for cutting butter into flour by hand: mince the butter into as small pieces as possible, freeze, and simply toss with the flour. Some people prefer to grate frozen butter into flour, which works well in theory, but I’ve always found that my hands melt the butter before I’m done grating. Whatever method works best for you (including using a food processor, or any other way) is the method you should use.
I hope you’ve enjoyed these photos and recipes as much as I enjoyed putting it all together! It was a true pleasure working with Taryn and Cybelle, two extremely talented and delightful ladies, who made the hours spent “working” on this feel like a very exclusive party. I have an inkling that this won’t be the last time you’ll see the three of us partnering up!
our hosts: taryn and her husband brian
Chicken and Chorizo Hand Pies Adapted from Gourmet Magazine Makes 12 pies
I’m not the biggest raisin fan in the world, but I nevertheless urge you to include them, no matter what you normally think of them. The pockets of light sweetness they add simply make the dish. If, while forming the pies, the crust softens, chill the pies for at least 15 minutes before baking for the flakiest possible crust.
For the crust: 1/2 cup unsalted butter (1 stick), cold
9 ounces (2 cups) unbleached all-purpose flour
2 1/4 ounces (1/2 cup) whole wheat flour
1 1/2 teaspoons salt
1 egg, cold
1 tablespoon white vinegar
1/3 cup ice-cold water, plus extra as needed
For the filling:
2 whole chicken legs, bone-in, skin-on (about 1 pound)
1 tablespoon olive oil
2 medium white onions, diced
5 cloves garlic, minced
2 bay leaves
1 teaspoon whole cumin
2 teaspoons sweet paprika
4 ounces raw Spanish-style chorizo (about 1 link), removed from casing
1/2 cup light-flavored beer
1/2 cup chicken stock
1/4 cup green olives, chopped roughly
1/4 cup golden raisins
To finish pies:
Flour for dusting and rolling out dough
1 egg, beaten with 1 tablespoon water to make an egg wash
1. To make the crust, cut the butter into as small pieces as possible. Pile loosely on a plate, and place in freezer while preparing remaining ingredients, or for about 10 minutes.
2. In a large bowl, whisk together the flour and salt. When butter is thoroughly firm, add to flour. Using fingertips or a pastry cutter, quickly toss and pinch until mixture resembles coarse meal. Large pea-sized lumps are okay.
3. Beat egg with vinegar until well blended, and add to flour mixture. Drizzle 1/3 cup ice water over, and quickly and gently fold in. Dough may look dry; try squeezing a bit together with fingertips. If mixture crumbles, add additional ice water by tablespoons, and gently mix together. If mixture holds together, turn out onto a work surface. Knead quickly and gently until mixture forms a cohesive ball, just a few turns. Shape dough into a flat disc, wrap tightly with plastic wrap, and refrigerate for at least 1 hour.
4. While dough chills, prepare the filling. Rub chicken legs with 1 tablespoon olive oil, and season with salt and pepper. Heat a large skillet over medium-high heat. Add legs, skin side down, and cook until just golden brown, about 3 minutes. Flip legs over, and brown other side, about 3 minutes more. Remove to a plate.
5. Discard all but two tablespoons fat from pan. Add onions, stir to coat, and cook until translucent and lightly browned, about 5 minutes. Add garlic, bay leaves, cumin, and paprika, and cook for 1 to 2 minutes, or until fragrant. Add chorizo, breaking up if necessary, and cook until browned, about 5 minutes.
6. Add beer and scrape bottom of pan to deglaze and loosen any flavorful browned bits. Add chicken stock, olives, and raisins; stir to combine. Nestle chicken legs, skin side up, into the mixture, reduce heat to medium-low or low to maintain a simmer, and cover pan.
7. Simmer, covered, for 25 to 30 minutes, or until chicken registers 160º F on an instant read thermometer inserted into the thickest part of the thigh. Remove legs to a clean plate to cool. If necessary, continue simmering sauce until thickened and no longer soupy; it should be the consistency of heavy cream. Remove bay leaves, and let cool to room temperature. Pull chicken meat from bone, discarding skin, and stir meat into sauce. Filling may be made up to 2 days ahead and refrigerated; bring to room temperature before using.
8. When ready to make pies, preheat oven to 400º F. Line a large baking sheet with parchment paper. Remove dough from refrigerator and let stand 5 to 10 minutes at room temperature. (If kitchen is warm, divide dough in half, working with one piece at a time, and refrigerating other half to prevent butter melting.)
9. Liberally dust a work surface with flour. Divide dough into 12 even pieces, and form each into a roughly round shape. Keep unused pieces covered loosely with plastic wrap. Using a floured rolling pin, roll each piece to a disc about 5 inches in diameter (about 1/8 inch thick), lifting and turning dough and dusting with flour as needed to prevent sticking. The shape need not be perfectly round.
10. Place 2 generous tablespoons of filling in the center of each round. Brush the edges of the dough lightly with egg wash, and fold the dough in half over the filling. Crimp the edges to seal, either with a fork, or by making a series of very small overlapping folds with fingertips, pressing firmly. Transfer each pie to the prepared baking sheet, lightly dusting off any excess flour. Repeat with remaining crust and filling.
11. Gently brush each pie with egg wash. If dough has softened, refrigerate tray of pies for at least 15 minutes before baking.
12. Bake at 400º F for about 25 minutes, or until golden brown. Let cool briefly on trays before before serving, or remove to a wire rack to cool thoroughly before wrapping tightly and freezing. Frozen, pies may be reheated on a baking sheet in a 350º F oven for 15 to 20 minutes, or until warmed through.
Mixed Berry Hand Pies Adapted from Gourmet Magazine
Makes 12 to 16 small pies
I’ve used blackberries and strawberries here, because that’s what was fresh at my market. Any berry would work here, or even any cut-up fruit you prefer, such as peaches, plums, cherries, or pears. The grated apple adds natural pectin, which thickens the filling just enough to shape the crust around.
For the crust: 3/4 cup unsalted butter (1 1/2 sticks), cold
1/4 cup non-hydrogenated vegetable shortening
11 1/4 ounces (2 1/2 cups) unbleached all-purpose flour
1 tablespoon sugar
1/2 teaspoon salt
1/3 cup ice-cold water, plus extra as needed
For the filling:
6 ounces (1 heaped cup) blackberries
6 ounces (1 heaped cup) strawberries
1 Golden Delicious apple
1/4 teaspoon ground allspice
1/4 teaspoon freshly-ground black pepper
6 tablespoons sugar
To finish pies:
Flour for rolling out crusts
1 egg, beaten with 1 tablespoon water to make an egg wash
Coarse sugar for dusting (such as demerara or turbinado)
1. To make the crust, cut the butter and shortening into as small pieces as possible. Pile loosely on a plate, and place in freezer while preparing remaining ingredients, or for about 10 minutes.
2. In a large bowl, whisk together the flour, sugar, and salt. When butter and shortening are thoroughly firm, add to flour. Using fingertips or a pastry cutter, quickly toss and pinch until mixture resembles coarse meal. Large pea-sized lumps are okay.
3. Drizzle 1/3 cup ice water over the mixture, and quickly and gently fold in. Dough may look dry; try squeezing a bit together with fingertips. If mixture crumbles, add additional ice water by tablespoons, and gently mix together. If mixture holds together, turn out onto a work surface. Knead quickly and gently until mixture forms a cohesive ball, just a few turns, using heel of hand with a forward pressing motion to help flatten and incorporate lumps of fat. Shape dough into a flat disc, wrap tightly with plastic wrap, and refrigerate for at least 1 hour.
4. While dough chills, make filling. Rinse berries. Hull strawberries, and cut into halves, or quarters if large. Place in a medium saucepan. Peel apple, and grate directly into pan with berries. Add allspice and sugar, and place over medium heat. Bring to a simmer, reduce heat to medium-low, and continue cooking until thick, 5 to 10 minutes. Stir occasionally to prevent scorching. Remove from heat, and let cool completely. Filling may be made 1 day ahead, and refrigerated.
5. When ready to assemble pies, preheat oven to 375º F. Line a large baking sheet with parchment paper. Remove dough from refrigerator and let stand 10 minutes at room temperature. (If kitchen is warm, divide dough in half, working with one piece at a time, and refrigerating other half to prevent butter melting.)
6. Liberally dust a work surface with flour. Using a floured rolling pin, roll dough to desired thickness (a scant 1/8 inch thick), lifting and turning dough and dusting with flour as needed to prevent sticking. With a rolling cutter (such as a pizza cutter), cut squares of dough, about 4 inches on each side. Place scrap trimmings to one side, to be re-kneaded and re-rolled only once.
7. Place 1 generous tablespoon of filling in the center of each square. Brush the edges of the dough lightly with egg wash, and fold the dough over the filling to make a triangle. Using a fork, crimp the edges to seal. Transfer each pie to the prepared baking sheet, lightly dusting off any excess flour. Repeat with remaining crust and filling.
8. Gently brush each pie with egg wash, and sprinkle liberally with coarse sugar. If dough has softened, refrigerate tray of pies for at least 15 minutes before baking.
9. Bake at 375º F for 25 to 35 minutes, or until golden brown. Let cool briefly on trays before removing to a wire rack to cool thoroughly.
Quinoa, for those of you not familiar with it, is an ancient grain (well, pseudocereal, to be exact) from South America. Pronounced “KEEN-wa”, it’s a rare plant source of all the essential amino acids, making it a complete protein. In other words, it’s ridiculously good for you.
But more importantly, this tiny seed takes hardly any time to cook (less than 15 minutes), and is surprisingly flavorful, with a nutty aroma. I keep a stash in the pantry for those times when I’d really love some brown rice with dinner, but have no time to cook it. Nutritious and fast? Yes, please.
The first recipe below is for a savory quinoa salad, bursting with fresh asparagus and scallions sautéed in a blazingly hot skillet until just barely blackened. Lightly roasted grape tomatoes bring sweetness, and pockets of feta add saltiness and a creamy texture. A salad like this is a fantastic way to use any special finds from your local farmers’ market; just be sure to keep things cut fairly chunky. That way, each bite is something entirely new, every forkful bound to the next with the rustic flavor of the quinoa. This particular mixture of vegetables and herbs, however, is just amazing. It tastes like late Spring.
Second, I’ve adapted a red quinoa pudding recipe from Heidi Swanson at 101 Cookbooks. Similar to rice pudding, it’s just barely sweet, making it an unusual and hearty breakfast alternative for those of you who need that A.M. sugar rush. Of course, if you prefer (as I do) to serve it for dessert instead, you can scarcely find a more virtuous option. Like Heidi, I’ve used a red quinoa here, but it’s purely for aesthetic purposes; if you can only find the more common tan-colored sort, that will work just as well. A cluster of blackberries and toasted nuts on top turns this humble dish into a cooly elegant plate.
The only caveat in cooking with quinoa is that you must rinse it before cooking. Quinoa comes with a natural covering or coating that tastes bitter when cooked, but rinsing removes it. To rinse, use a fine mesh sieve to hold the seeds, and run water over them until it runs clear, using your hand to agitate them as you rinse. Let it drain slightly, and you’re good to go!
if it's too early for a cocktail, it's too early
Quinoa and Asparagus Salad with Roasted Grape Tomatoes Makes 4 to 6 servings
The small grape tomatoes are roasted in a low oven to dry and shrivel them slightly, concentrating their flavor into a sort of hybrid between raw and sun-dried tomatoes. If you have a grill, try grilling the asparagus and scallions instead of sautéing them, for a smoky depth. And while the grill is hot, throw a few pieces of meat on there; this salad is ideal for an cook-out.
For quinoa:
1 cup quinoa
1 tablespoon olive oil
1/3 cup white onion, diced
2 cups chicken stock
1/2 teaspoon salt
To finish salad:
1 pound asparagus
1 bunch scallions (about 6)
1 tablespoon olive oil
1 large bunch mint, leaves only, chopped (about 1/4 cup)
2 tablespoons chopped parsley, leaves only
8 ounces feta
1 to 2 tablespoons sherry vinegar
Salt and pepper, as needed
1. Preheat oven to 250º F. Halve tomatoes, and place on a rimmed baking sheet. Drizzle with 1 tablespoon olive oil, and season lightly with salt and pepper. Roast for 1 hour, or until slightly shriveled. Set aside to cool.
2. Meanwhile, rinse the quinoa in a fine mesh sieve until the water runs clear, swirling with hands to help agitate the grains. This rinses off a natural coating that, when cooked, tastes bitter. Let drain.
3. In a medium saucepan, heat 1 tablespoon olive oil over medium-high heat. Add the onion and cook until translucent, 3 to 5 minutes. Add the quinoa. Stirring constantly to prevent burning, toast the quinoa until fragrant and grains separate, about 3 minutes. Slowly add the chicken stock (quinoa will bubble up and jump higher than you think) and the salt. Return to a boil. Reduce heat to medium-low, and simmer for 12 to 15 minutes, or until tender and all liquid is absorbed. Let stand off heat at least 5 minutes before fluffing with a fork.
4. Trim ends from asparagus, and cut into 2 inch lengths. Set tips aside for the moment. Cut white and light green parts of scallions into 1 inch lengths, reserving green tops. Toss asparagus (except for tips) and chopped scallion parts with 1 tablespoon olive oil, and season with salt and pepper.
5. Heat a large sauté pan over high heat until very hot. Add asparagus and scallion mixture, and sauté, tossing or stirring, until deeply browned or charred in places and crisp-tender, 4 to 5 minutes. Add asparagus tips, and cook 1 to 2 minutes more. Remove from heat.
6. In a large bowl, combine cooked quinoa with asparagus, scallions, and roasted tomatoes. Chop green scallion tops, mint, and parsley; add to bowl. Crumble feta in, and drizzle with sherry vinegar to taste. Toss gently, and correct seasoning as needed. Serve warm, cold, or at room temperature.
Red Quinoa Pudding Adapted from 101 Cookbooks
Makes 4 servings
This dish can be served at breakfast just as easily as it can for dessert. You can swap the sugar for honey if you like, and feel free to use regular quinoa if you can’t find the red type. Both options will work equally well.
1 cup red quinoa
1 tablespoon unsalted butter
3 cups milk
3 tablespoons sugar
1 three-fingered pinch salt
1 cinnamon stick
3 pods cardamom, crushed, seeds only
For serving (optional): toasted pecans, fresh berries, honey, plain yogurt
1. Rinse the quinoa in a fine mesh sieve until the water runs clear, swirling with hands to help agitate the grains. This rinses off a natural coating that, when cooked, tastes bitter. Let drain.
2. In a medium saucepan, heat butter over medium-high heat. Add quinoa. Stirring constantly to prevent burning, toast the quinoa until fragrant and grains separate, about 3 minutes. Slowly add the milk (quinoa will bubble up and jump higher than you think), sugar, salt, cinnamon stick, and cardamom seeds.
3. Return to a boil, stirring until sugar is dissolved. Reduce heat to medium-low, and simmer for 12 to 15 minutes, or until tender. Not all liquid will be absorbed. Let stand off heat at least 5 minutes.
4. Remove cinnamon stick, and add additional milk to thin, if desired. Serve pudding topped with toasted pecans, fresh berries, dried fruit, a drizzle of honey, or a dollop of plain yogurt.
You will please forgive my tardiness with this post; this last week or so, I’ve been blindsided by a messy and slightly incapacitating pile of anxiety, the likes of which I haven’t seen in ages. So while I continue to sticky-tape my brain back together, here is a recipe that I’ve been unproductively mulling over for days.
I originally saw a recipe for warm butternut squash and chickpea salad on Orangette – or was it Smitten Kitchen? – and was hooked. Canned chickpeas are a secret pantry weapon of mine, and I love every opportunity to use them in new ways. But recently, I had all the ingredients to make this knockout dish, with one exception: the chickpeas.
Argh.
Luckily, though, I happened to have a bag of homemade orecchiette in the freezer, leftovers from a previous day’s kitchen adventure. Making one’s own pasta is one of those things that seems quite fussy on the surface, but ends up being worth every second and mote of effort spent. Whether that’s because it actually tastes better than store-bought, or whether the pride of such an accomplishment is the best seasoning of all, is anyone’s guess.
The best thing about making orecchiette is that you get all the benefits of homemade pasta without having to invest in a pasta roller, which homemade fettucini or linguini would require. Shaped with only your hands, these “little ears” (the literal translation of the name) are as individual as their creator. They can be plump and thick, akin to dumplings, or they can be thin and almost shell-shaped, with a more traditional “pasta” texture. However you prefer to make them, or however they happen to turn out in your hands, the results are equally good.
My hands are on the smaller side, so my orecchiette end up being a bit thick, which makes them a perfect substitute for the starchy chickpeas in the aforementioned recipe. The mild flavor of the pasta might be a little less earthy than the chickpeas, but that allows the tahini sauce to really shine in all its well-balanced glory. The red onions taste a little more pungent, the cilantro a little more vibrant, and the roasted root vegetables a little more caramelized.
As delightful as the original recipe is, I think I’ve made a fitting variation. The original is sophisticated enough to serve to company, but simple enough to make on a weeknight; this variation is glamorous enough to make a weeknight dinner feel like a special occasion dinner. The orecchiette does take a bit of time to make, but it goes quickly if you can get many hands involved. And with such satisfaction as comes with making one’s own pasta from scratch, who wouldn’t want to join in?
Orecchiette With Roasted Root Vegetables and Tahini Adapted from Casa Moro, via Orangette Makes 4 to 6 servings
The beauty of this recipe is its versatility. You could use any winter squash or root vegetable you like, from sweet potato to delicata squash to sugar pumpkin, and everything in between. I used an even mixture of butternut squash, turnips, and rutabagas. While the vegetables roast, mix up the sauce and cook the pasta; they should all be done around the same time. It’s best served at once, but leftovers will reheat nicely with a splash of chicken broth, water, beer, or any other liquid.
2 to 2 1/2 pounds mixed root vegetables (such as butternut squash or turnips), peeled, seeded as needed, and cut into 1 inch pieces
1/2 teaspoon ground allspice
2 tablespoons olive oil
3 cloves garlic, very finely minced
1/4 cup fresh lemon juice
1/4 cup well-stirred tahini
3 tablespoons water
3 tablespoons olive oil (plus additional to taste)
1 1/2 pounds fresh orecchiette (recipe below), or 1 pound dried purchased orecchiette
1/2 cup red onion, finely chopped
1/2 cup coarsely chopped cilantro leaves
Salt and pepper to taste
1. Preheat the oven to 425º F.
2. In a roasting pan, toss the root vegetables with the allspice, olive oil, and a good pinch or two of salt and black pepper, until evenly coated. Spread in a single layer, and bake for 15 to 25 minutes, or until soft and browned. Remove from the oven and cool slightly.
3. While the root vegetables roast, bring a large stock pot of water to a boil for the orecchiette. Meanwhile, make the tahini sauce. In a bowl, whisk together the minced garlic, lemon juice, and tahini, until blended. Add the water and olive oil, whisk until smooth, and taste for seasoning. The sauce should have plenty of nutty tahini flavor, but also a little kick of lemon. If bitter, add additional olive oil until balanced, thinning with additional water if needed. Season with salt and pepper to taste. Let stand while preparing the remaining ingredients, to let the flavors marry.
4. Liberally salt the water (which should be boiling by now), and add the orecchiette. Cook until just al dente, about 5 minutes for fresh or 7 minutes for dried, or until done. Reserve 1/2 cup of the pasta water. Drain orecchiette and return to pot. Add the tahini sauce and toss.
5. Chop the red onion and cilantro. Add to the orecchiette, along with the roasted root vegetables. Toss until combined. Serve warm, or at room temperature.
Orecchiette Adapted from Gourmet Magazine Makes about 1 1/2 pounds
This recipe produces (in my hands) plump, almost dumpling-like orecchiette. For a thinner pasta, cut the ropes of dough into smaller pieces, or shape them with hands equipped with bigger thumbs than mine.
11 1/2 ounces (about 2 cups) semolina, plus extra for dusting
9 ounces (about 2 cups) unbleached all-purpose flour
1/2 teaspoon kosher salt
1 cup water, at warm room temperature
1. In a large bowl, whisk together the semolina, flour, and salt. Add the water. Mix together with a fork or spatula until a rough dough forms. Add additional water or semolina by spoonfuls as needed to correct the consistency.
2. Turn dough out onto a work surface. Knead until smooth and elastic, about 8 minutes, discarding any hard lumps that may have formed. Cover tightly with plastic wrap, and let rest at room temperature for at least 30 minutes.
3. Divide the dough into 8 even pieces. Cover or wrap each piece with plastic wrap. Line a large rimmed baking sheet with a dry kitchen towel (not terry cloth) and dust lightly with a little extra semolina. Remove plastic wrap from 1 piece of dough. With lightly floured hands, roll into a rope about 3 to 4 feet long and 1/2 inch thick. Cut crossways into 1/2-inch pieces, with a knife or bench scraper, separating pieces as cut so they are no longer touching. Lightly toss cut pieces with a little semolina.
4. Put each cut piece of dough, one cut side down, in palm of hand and form a depression by pressing thumb of other hand into dough and twisting slightly.
like so
Arrange orecchiette on the lined tray so they don’t touch. Repeat with remaining 7 pieces of dough in same manner. Orecchiette may sit at room temperature for up to a couple of hours, loosely covered with plastic wrap or a kitchen towel, or may be made up to 2 days ahead and chilled on towel-lined trays, covered with plastic wrap. Orecchiette will also freeze well, in a freezer zip-top bag; thaw at room temperature before using in a recipe.
When I was buying the groceries for my recent Irish fry-up, I bought two yellow potatoes (the ones used for the chips). Considering that we only made it through half of one potato for that breakfast, you might say I over-purchased.
But for me, it’s always good to have spare vegetables around the house. They inspire me to create new dishes, to find novel and interesting ways to use them up. Often, I’ll combine three or four recipes based around one food, and serve up something unusual and delicious that I will most likely never be able to serve again – because I can’t remember what the heck I did to make it. It’s very sad when that happens.
So there I was, with one spare potato. Not wanting to resort to the default (though delicious) “roasting with olive oil”, I searched for a more creative use. For four days, the lonely thing sat on the counter, peering up at me with its many eyes, acting wistful. I’m sure I heard it sigh. And let me tell you, a sighing potato is a particularly melancholy thing.
Mercifully, a link in a recent Saveur newsletter provided the answer I was looking for: potato pizza. Of course! That potato would be quite lovely, sliced thinly, atop a long-risen dough, paired with shavings of onion, a light sprinkling of rosemary, and a bit of bacon (also left over from the fry-up). I couldn’t imagine a better use for it. As an added bonus, I had every ingredient I needed already in the kitchen. Win!
But then, I realized that there was no cheese in the refrigerator. Not a scrap. Not even a wasted and dried rind of Parmesan. And while there are some pizzas that can manage to hold their heads high even with a lack of cheese, a potato pizza simply isn’t one of them. Refusing to make a special trip to the store for one item, I decided to make some ricotta, my unquestionably favorite cheese for pizza.
Though it might seem fussy to make your own cheese, especially an easily-purchased one like ricotta, let me assure you that it’s one of the simpler things you can do in the kitchen, and will invariably produce far better cheese than the cottony, grainy stuff found in most grocery stores. If you can make tea, you can make enviable ricotta.
The process is super-easy, and is one of those gleeful instances where a microwave will do a better job than a stove top, as there’s none of that cooked-on milk goo to scrape off a pan afterwards. Put milk, salt, and acid in a glass bowl, heat to 165º F, stir, and strain. Done.
For the acid, I used mostly white vinegar for consistency in acidity, but added a touch of lemon juice for a brighter flavor. You can use all vinegar, or all lemon juice, however you prefer. The flavor was creamy and just barely citrusy, and was simply gorgeous on the pizza. And I made darn sure to write down exactly what I did with this recipe; it was too good to forget about.
Dotted with circles of potato, mounds of ricotta, and shards of bacon, these pizzas cooked up beautifully, in an oven so hot it actually hurt a little to reach into. The crust bubbled appropriately on the edges, and remained slightly moist on the interior, the hallmark of a well-made Napoli-style pie. I was ecstatic to hear the crust singing in its crackly voice when I pulled it from the heat. But after I cut into the pizza and served it, I was just as happy to hear the silence of content diners, and the only sighings I heard were sighs of contentment from full mouths.
Homemade Ricotta and Potato Pizza Inspired by Project Foodie
Makes 2 individual pizzas, 2 to 4 servings
You’ll have to plan one day ahead for the pizza dough, but the incredible flavor makes it well worth the wait. Start this recipe 1 hour before the pizza dough is ready, for the ideal timing. The dough will have rested for 1 hour already; that hour would be the perfect time to make the ricotta, and still have a minute to fix yourself a drink.
1/2 recipe No-Knead Pizza Dough (recipe below)
1 recipe Simple Ricotta (recipe below)
1 medium waxy potato (such as Yukon Gold), about 8 ounces
3 slices bacon
1/2 small yellow onion (halved lengthwise)
2 tablespoons fresh rosemary, minced
Olive oil for drizzling (optional)
1. One hour before baking, preheat the oven to 550º F, or as hot as the oven will allow. If using a baking stone, heat along with the oven. Otherwise, position a rack at the lowest possible setting, and heat a large, sturdy baking sheet along with the oven.
2. While the oven heats, bring a medium pot of water to a boil. Slice the potato crossways into 1/4 inch thick slices. Salt the water liberally (about 1 tablespoon), and add the potato slices. Bring back to a boil, and cook for 5 to 7 minutes, or until the slices are softened, but not fully cooked. Drain and let cool.
3. While the potato cools, cook the bacon in a pan over medium heat until just browned, but not quite crisp (it will finish cooking in the oven, on the pizza). Drain on paper towels, and let cool slightly. Chop into small pieces, and set aside.
4. Cut the onion-half crossways into as thin slices as possible, and set aside. Mince the rosemary, and set aside.
5. When the dough is fully rested, shape it on a sheet of parchment paper with floured hands into the desired shape and size. Top with the ricotta, potatoes, onion, bacon, and rosemary, not necessarily in that order. Salt and pepper to taste, and drizzle lightly with olive oil. Quickly transfer the pizza (still on the parchment) to the hot baking stone or sheet pan.
6. Bake at 550º F for about 10 minutes, or until the crust is browned. Let cool slightly before cutting and serving. Cooked pizza may be refrigerated for up to 1 day, or frozen for up to several weeks. Re-crisp in a 350º F oven until warm.
No-Knead Pizza Dough Adapted from Jim Lahey Makes 4 individual pizzas
This recipe uses just enough whole wheat flour to provide a slightly rustic nature and sweet flavor, without compromising the coveted gluteny pull and tear that an all-white-flour crust brings. It requires advance planning, but there’s little effort involved, and the results are well worth the time invested.
11 1/4 ounces (about 2 1/2 cups) unbleached all-purpose or bread flour, plus extra for dusting
3 ounces (about 2/3 cup) whole wheat flour
1/4 teaspoon instant yeast (not active-dry)
1 1/2 teaspoons salt
1 1/2 cups water
1. In a large bowl, whisk the flours together with the yeast and salt. Add the water and stir until blended (the dough will be very sticky). Cover the bowl with plastic wrap and let rest for 12 to 24 hours in a warm spot, about 70º F, or until very risen and bubbly.
like so
2. Turn the dough out on a well-floured work surface. Lightly sprinkle the top with flour, and fold the dough over on itself once or twice. Cover loosely with plastic wrap and let rest for 15 minutes.
3. Divide the dough into 4 equal pieces and shape each piece into a rough ball. (At this point, the dough may be wrapped tightly in plastic, or in a plastic zip-top bag, and frozen. Thaw overnight in the refrigerator before proceeding.) Dust the dough with flour, and cover loosely with plastic wrap. Let rest for 2 hours; the dough may or may not double in size. Proceed as directed in above recipe, or following your own.
Simple Ricotta Adapted from Serious Eats
Makes about 1 1/2 cups
Though this isn’t a “true” ricotta (as it’s made from milk, not whey), it’s certainly a convincing substitution. It’s still worlds better than most store-bought ricottas out there, and is ridiculously easy to make. You can use any type of milk for this, from skim all the way to cream; but be aware that skim milk will make a more rubbery end product, while cream will make an incredibly over-the-top rich cheese. I used 2%, as that’s what I keep in the house, but would probably try whole milk next time, or even 2% with a bit of cream added to it, for a more luxurious texture. The recipe may easily be scaled up or down; for me, this is the minimum amount of ricotta I want after going through the effort to make it.
6 cups milk
3/4 teaspoon salt
2 tablespoons lemon juice
1/4 cup distilled white vinegar
1. Line a mesh strainer with 2 layers of paper towels. Set over a bowl to drain the cheese later. Combine milk, salt, lemon juice, and vinegar in large microwave-safe glass bowl, or other container. Microwave on high heat until lightly bubbling around edges, 8 to 12 minutes depending on microwave (milk should register about 165° F on an instant-read thermometer).
2. Carefully remove from the microwave, and stir gently for 5 seconds. The milk should separate into solid white curds and translucent liquid whey. If not, microwave until fully separated, in 30 second increments.
like so
3. Using a wire skimmer or slotted spoon, transfer all floating curds to the prepared strainer. Do not be tempted to pour the whole mixture into the strainer; the fine curds that have sunk to the bottom will clog the paper towels and impede draining.
4. Cover loosely with plastic wrap, and allow to drain until desired texture is reached, about 5 minutes for very moist ricotta, or about 30 minutes for a firm ricotta. Store in an airtight container in the refrigerator for up to 5 days.
I love fried rice. It’s so accommodating. Whatever leftovers you happen to have (and I mean anything), it’s an easy matter of cutting things down to size and quickly sautéing them all with some rice. Simple, nutritious, and fridge-cleaning, it could hardly get better.
For this version, I used the leftovers from the steak tacos I made previously. The various vegetables used to garnish the tacos – red onion, scallion, cilantro, bell pepper – were also saved, all jumbled together in a bag. They were already sliced, but a quick chop brought them down to bite-size, which I prefer in fried rice.
A fast and hot turn in a pan with some olive oil charred the edges nicely, and softened the crunch before cold leftover brown rice was added. Letting the rice sit for a minute or so gave some of the rice that wonderfully crisp texture around the edges, though you can skip that if you like. The steak and some chopped scallion tops were added just before removing the pan from the flame, and residual heat warmed the meat perfectly without cooking it further. I added some hot sauce to the pan, mostly on a whim, but also served additional salsa verde, leftover from the tacos, at the table.
I would write a recipe for this, but the nature of the dish is so impromptu and variable that it seems unnecessary. It’s really more about technique than ingredient. All you really need is to have your rice cold (ideally, but even this is not requisite), your vegetables and other add-ins chopped and ready to go, and a hot fire under a pan large enough to really toss things around. Add a touch of oil, then anything that needs to be cooked, then rice, then stir in anything that needs only be warmed. Serve. Easy as pie. Who needs a recipe?
For the most part, I cook and eat a vegetarian diet. Not that I’m a vegetarian; far from it. Can you really have a pot of lentils without a little bacon, or red beans without a smoked ham hock? My point exactly. In fact, I think I could actually pick up a whole lamb, gamboling about in a pasture, and just take a bite out of the little guy. Mmm, delicious lamb. It is a great weakness of mine.
Love of lamb notwithstanding, meat is a relatively rare ingredient in my kitchen, and is most often used as an ingredient rather than a main dish, for convenience as well as health. So when I posed the recent question, “What would you like for dinner?”, I expected the usual reply: “Oh, whatever you like will be fine,” which would then free me to concoct some delightful mélange of whatever vegetables struck my fancy at the store. But to my surprise, the request came back: “Meat. Maybe skirt steak.”
Huh.
Um, okay. Meat. Meat it is.
When I eat meat, I want it to be the real deal, especially as meat tends to be a “special occasion” food in my kitchen. A bowl of less-than crisp vegetables I can deal with; but I simply cannot abide dry, tough, overcooked, or poorly-prepared meat. And ideally, I’d like the meat to act much like a shaving of truffles or fine Parmigiano-Reggiano would; that is, a small but hugely-flavorful and indispensable part of the meal, without which the dinner would be greatly diminished.
And so, with the promise of a skirt steak to be procured on the way home, I decided that the ideal way to showcase this particular meat was in taco format. As much as I love vegetables, for me, tacos simply require some sort of meat (or fish). A roasted or grilled vegetable taco just isn’t the same, and I firmly believe that beans are too squishy for this application. Those belong on the side, thank you.
Skirt steak lends itself beautifully to the nature of tacos, as it is best when seared quickly and sliced thinly into ribbons of tender and rare meat, ideal for layering in a tortilla with other ingredients. It is also quite flavorful, which means that a little will go a long way, especially when coated with a generous amount of pepper and spices, as I’ve done here.
Tacos are one of those fascinating creatures that are far more than the sum of their parts. Corn tortillas are rather bland eaten alone; but pair one with a heavily-spiced meat too bold to eat on its own, and a smattering of fresh vegetables, and you’ll find sweetness, richness, vibrance, and complexity in each bite. Make tortillas yourself, and it’s even better. Pre-made tortillas, both corn and flour, tend to be horribly dry and sawdusty; homemade ones take a little effort, it’s true, but the results don’t compare in the slightest.
Of course I had to make tortillas. If I was going to go to all the trouble of preparing meat, I wasn’t about to skimp on so crucial and simple an ingredient as a tortilla. Besides, after last year’s project, I feel a bit wrong buying a bread that I know is so easy to make.
All said and done, these skirt steak tacos satisfied the both of us; meat was served, as requested, but I got my fill of vegetables, too. As an added bonus, with reasonable portioning, the two of us ate our fill of tacos for two meals, with just enough meat and vegetables left over for some steak fried rice. But, now, I’m getting ahead of myself…
Skirt Steak Tacos Serves 4
I’ve given suggestions of toppings to put with these tacos, but you should feel free to mix it up however you like. Avocado, however, is highly recommended.
For the steak:
4 cloves garlic
1/4 teaspoon kosher salt
1 1/2 teaspoons whole cumin seed
1 teaspoon Szechuan peppercorns
1 teaspoon whole black peppercorns
1/2 teaspoon dried oregano
1/4 teaspoon cayenne pepper
1 tablespoon olive oil
1 pound skirt steak (more or less)
For serving:
Sliced red onion
Sliced green onion
Sliced bell pepper
Sliced avocado
Cilantro leaves, roughly chopped or torn
Lime wedges
Salsa verde (tomatillo salsa, store-bought)
Corn tortillas (recipe below)
Napa cabbage slaw (recipe below)
1. Roughly chop the garlic. Sprinkle the salt over the top, and crush into a paste by dragging the flat side of a knife over it.
...like so.
2. In a dry pan over medium heat, toast the cumin, Szechuan peppercorns, and black peppercorns until fragrant, 2 to 3 minutes. Transfer to a mortar or spice grinder, and crush to desired coarseness. Combine in a small bowl with the garlic paste, oregano, cayenne, and olive oil.
3. Rub the spice paste over the skirt steak, and let stand loosely covered at room temperature for 30 minutes. Meanwhile, preheat the broiler to high, and prepare the remaining ingredients for serving.
4. Broil the steak 4 to 5 inches from the heat, about 2 minutes per side for rare, depending on thickness (mine was on the thin side). Remove from heat, tent loosely with aluminum foil, and let rest at least 10 full minutes before cutting. Slice across the grain with a sharp knife into as thin slices as possible. Serve with tortillas and other ingredients.
Corn Tortillas Makes 16
The masa harina (nixtamalized corn flour) needed for tortillas can be found at Latino markets or specialty grocery stores. The package should be labeled as for tortillas or tamales. Regular cornmeal is not a substitute. This dough tends to dry out easily; if this happens, simply knead a little water back into the dough. Over-kneading is not a concern here.
8 1/2 ounces (about 1 3/4 cups) masa harina (not regular cornmeal)
1 cup plus 2 tablespoons warm water
1/4 teaspoon salt
1. Mix the masa harina and water together in a bowl until a rough dough forms. Knead either in the bowl or on a work surface until smooth and soft. You may need to add additional water if the dough is crumbly, or additional masa if the dough is sticky. Return to the bowl, and cover tightly with plastic wrap. Let rest for about 30 minutes.
2. Divide the dough into 16 equal pieces. Roll each piece into a ball, keeping the unused pieces tightly covered. Heat a heavy pan over medium heat.
3. Cut a gallon-sized plastic zip-top bag down two of the sides, leaving only one side attached. Place one ball of dough between the pieces of plastic, and press with a flat surface (such as a cutting board, another pan, or a flat-bottomed plate) until flattened out. With a rolling pin, roll until the dough is as thin as desired, or the disc is 5 or 6 inches across. (If you happen to have a tortilla press, you can certainly use that instead of the plastic bag.)
4. Peel the plastic from the dough. Lay the rolled-out dough in the heated pan. Cook for about 1 minute, then flip over. Cook the other side for about 1 minute more. The tortilla may or may not brown in spots, and should puff up slightly. Adjust the heat as needed if the tortilla is cooking too quickly or too slowly.
5. Transfer the cooked tortilla to a clean kitchen towel (not terry cloth), and cover while cooking the remaining tortillas. When cooked, stack each tortilla on top of the others, and cover with the towel to keep warm. Serve warm, or wrap and freeze. Tortillas will reheat beautifully in a warm oven, wrapped in aluminum foil; or in a microwave, wrapped in wax paper.
Napa Cabbage Slaw Makes about 4 servings
If you’d like to make this ahead of time, for serving within a day or so, toss the chopped cabbage with 1 tablespoon salt. Let sit in a colander to drain for 1 to 2 hours. Rinse, and squeeze dry; proceed as directed with the recipe. This salting procedure will draw moisture out of the cabbage, eliminating the watery pool that often forms at the bottom of a bowl of slaw, and will help keep your cabbage crunchy.
1 small head Napa cabbage (about 1 1/2 pounds)
3 tablespoons diced red bell pepper
2 tablespoons plain yogurt
2 tablespoons mayonnaise
1 tablespoon brown rice vinegar
Dash soy sauce
Dash fish sauce
1/2 teaspoon celery seed
Salt and black pepper, to taste
1. Chop the Napa cabbage by slicing the whole head lengthwise several times, not cutting through the stem end that holds it all together. Cut crossways, chopping the cabbage as finely as desired. Dice the bell pepper. Set aside.
2. In a large bowl, whisk together the yogurt, mayonnaise, vinegar, soy sauce, fish sauce, and celery seed. Add the cabbage and bell pepper, tossing to combine. Salt and pepper to taste. Serve immediately.
