The Omnivorous Egg

The Mysterious Ploughman's Lunch

2009-08-14T15:33:05Z

The day before yesterday, I decided I wanted a Ploughman's lunch. I think it was really that I wanted to make some bread.....

So I started off at the beginning, with a Cottage Loaf:

More-or-less taken from RecipeTips. It's nothing too outlandish--a pretty standard recipe that produces a fine-grained white sandwich bread (though people often add some wholemeal flour to the bread to give it additional character). The whimsical part is the snowman shape--one small ball of dough sitting atop a much larger one, meaning that a slice of Cottage Loaf often takes the form of a wedge.

I tried looking up the origins of the name, but didn't get much that was satisfactory. Some people seem to think that "Cottage Loaf" refers to the cottage-like shape of the finished bread, which makes sense if you live in Smurf Village, but pretty much no place else. I suspect the name is due to it being a simple, rustic bread that most people could make at home, if they had access to an oven. Ockham's Razor, people. Ockham's Razor.

The origins of the Ploughman's itself are equally murky. Go to Wikipedia, and you'll see a surprisingly long and tedious parsing out of whether or not the whole thing is a c 1955 creation of Britain's Milk Marketing Board, attempting to sell more cheese in pubs.

Well, sure. The marketing campaign seems to have moved bread and cheese like nobody's business, and pubs throughout the land rejoiced. But I'm not seeing how that means that a Ploughman's (i.e. a meal of bread and cheese and beer or cider or whatever) never existed before 1955. I'm pretty sure some bright spark thought up that one soon after the invention of cheese, bread, and beverages.

In the end, it just makes more sense to settle yourself down with your hunk of bread and piece of cheese (and in my case, some other tasty stuff as well), and have lunch.

Ploughman's Lunch

This one's pretty simple. Just gather some of the following items and start eating lunch. Bread and cheese are required; everything else is optional.

* Generous piece of good bread. Butter for the bread is optional.
* Correspondingly generous piece of good cheese
* Pickles of some kind (In this case, pickled onions. Branston Pickle is popular if you can get it.).
* A hard boiled egg.
* A crisp, tart apple.
* Cold meat or sausage.
* Mustard. For the cold meat or sausage (or the bread and cheese, I guess, if that's your thing.

It was the eyes that were the problem.....

2009-07-19T01:26:58Z

I'm not one of those people who are squeamish about food prep. I understand why some people are grossed out by the mere thought of touching raw chicken (slimy!) or steaks (ditto) or ground meat (squishy, and it coats your fingers with a fatty film....), but none of those things bother me in the least.

Nor does the thought of offing lobsters give me pause (After I've sent the unfortunate Homarus Americanus for a short sabbatical in the freezer, of course...). I'm perfectly happy to drop them in a pot of steaming water. I'll even split a lobster in half before cooking, dispatching him with a swift, decisive cut through the middle of his body, in preparation for pan-roasting.

Whole fish? Not an issue. Crawfish? No problemo. Shrimp with the heads on? I merely laugh. But the squid--the squid--that nearly stopped me in my tracks.

I'd started off the week as usual, planning out my meals, making a shopping list. Last week, I remembered, there'd been some packages of frozen squid at the local Market Basket. Awesome! I love calamari! And they were dirt cheap, too--the one pound package was only $1.99. What could be better?

Of course, though I'd eaten lots of squid in my time, I'd never cooked it from scratch before. I'd had breaded frozen squid rings, and ones without breading, too, but they were all precooked, which meant that reheating them turned them into not particularly toothsome rubber bands. Certainly not worth repeating. So starting with raw it was.

I'd seen people clean and cook squid a hundred times on TV--it couldn't be that hard. Pull squid head from squid body. Clean squid body in cool water. Remove the cuttlebone. Chop tentacles from head. Peel off squid skin. To avoid vulcanization, you either cooked your cleaned squid fast, or cooked it forever. Cake.

So I headed home with my squid, and the fixings for Chez Etienne's Pan-Fried Calamari with Garlic and Parsley (plus a lemon, which seemed a scandalous omission--I mean, who would eat pan fried seafood without having a lemon somewhere around). I stowed my box of squid in the freezer and promptly began ignoring it.

First I had to make Maman's Cheese Souffle (a great recipe, btw--I highly recommend it, even--perhaps especially--for the souffle-phobic). Then there was the butterflied leg of lamb with chili-lime rub. And tacos with an avocado/lime/cilantro relish, made with the leftovers, and lambwiches, also made with the leftovers, and finally, cold sliced lamb with tomato paella on the side.
With all those leftovers, my poor squid and the rest of the ingredients had to hang out for a week before I finally got around to them, but last night I finally pulled the squid out of the freezer and stuck it in the fridge to defrost.

So tonight, when I start collecting and prepping my ingredients--I find that my parsley (which was from a week prior--waste not want not) wasn't bad, but wasn't good enough for pan fried squid with garlic and parsley, either(In the end, it went into the bag of veggie scraps that I keep in the freezer for making stocks.). And the lack of lemon in the recipe did seem just, well, wrong. So I wound up substantially modifying the recipe on the fly. No parsley? No problem! I still have a bunch of fresh cilantro in the fridge, left over from the avocado relish for those lamb tacos. And if we're talking swapping out parsley for cilantro, well, then the logical thing to do is to season the flour coating to death with tons of salt and black pepper--and just a little cayenne--for a riff on Salt and Pepper squid.

Which brings us to the squid themselves. I remove the now-defrosted box from the fridge and open it up. Inside lies a plastic bag. A plastic bag full of squid eyes, looking up at me. It was like a tiny tiny version of

All those unblinking squid eyes, below a translucent veil of squid flesh. Yipes. Could I do this? Fish eyes were nowhere near this disturbing.....

So I head for my shiny new copy of Jacques Pepin's Complete Techniques. Jacques, of course, does not fail me. He has clear instructions for cleaning squid, to refresh any details I may have forgotten from my long-ago cooking-show-watching. Fortunately without any close-up illustrations. I've got quite enough creepy squid eyes right here, thanks.

I did, in the end, get over the creepy unblinking squid eye thing. If I didn't, I wouldn't have had this for dinner:

Pan-Fried Squid with Chili, Garlic, and Cilantro

Makes one generous entree serving, or two appetizer servings.

This is on the fast side of "cook it fast or cook it forever", so make sure all of your ingredients are prepped and waiting for you before you put the squid in the pan.

Light tasting oil with a high smoke point--canola, safflower, grape seed, or peanut work well
1 lb cleaned squid
1/4 cup flour
1 tsp fresh ground black pepper
1 tsp sea salt or kosher salt
1/8 tsp cayenne (optional)
2 large cloves garlic, peeled and finely chopped
1/2 cup cilantro leaves, coarsely chopped
Generous pinch red pepper flakes (leave these out if you don't like spicy food, or add more if you like spicy food a lot)
1/2 lemon, sliced lengthwise into three wedges

Cut the squid bodies in half lengthwise, then in half again width-wise. You'll have rectangles of squid that are 1 inch by 2 inches, more or less.

Put a large non-stick skillet on medium to medium-high heat. Add enough oil so that there is 1/3 of an inch in the pan. Test the oil by putting the tip of a bamboo chopstick or skewer into the pan. If small bubbles form around the chopstick, the oil is hot enough.

Add the squid in a single layer. Fry 1 minute, until the squid is golden brown and crisp, with especially dark, crisp edges. Turn the squid pieces and continue cooking for another minute.

Remove the squid to paper towels or newspaper to drain.

Pour out the oil in the pan, leaving 1 or 2 teaspoons. Add the garlic and chili flakes, and stir until it is fragrant, about 30 seconds. Return the squid to the pan, add the cilantro, and the juice of one lemon wedge. Toss to combine the seasonings with the squid. Serve immediately, with the remaining lemon wedges on the side.

Some days, you wake up and feel inspired.

2007-10-28T23:14:04Z

God knows where the inspiration comes from, especially when it's inspiration that involves a metric ton of work. I suppose it's the rain's fault, since rainy gray chilly weather tends to make soup sound good. Or maybe it's the consomme's fault, because I was riding high on actually having produced a flawlessly clear and intensely flavored chicken consomme (thanks to Harold McGee and the New York Times. Most likely, it was because I was feeling fidgety and just a bit bored. But whatever the reason, on Saturday it seemed like a good idea to make pelmeni. From scratch.

For those of you who have never had pelmeni, think of them as siberian ravioli--little pockets of pasta filled with ground meat that has been flavored with chopped onions, salt, and pepper (I like to add a little garlic to mine, too, but it is traditionally made without). It's one of those things that is really simple in terms of ingredients, but the loveliness of the finished product belies the handful of ingredients that go into it. Cooked pelmeni, often served with butter, salt, pepper, and sour cream, or (my favorite) floating in consomme and speckled with flecks of fresh dill or (in my case) chives, have delicate and tender pasta wrapped around a savory filling that brings out the flavor of the meat.

But they take forever to make. Good thing they freeze well. And are a good project for a rainy day.
Pelmeni
Makes about 100 Pelmeni--enough for 10 people as a main course, or 20 as a first course served in broth.

The Dough
2 cups (10 oz) All purpose flour
2 tsp vegetable oil
1/4 tsp salt
1 egg
1/2 cup warm water

Combine the flour, salt, and oil in a food processor. Pulse 3 or 4 times to combine. Turn on the processor and add the egg through the feed tube. With the machine still running, add enough water to make a soft, slightly sticky dough.

Turn the dough out onto a floured counter and knead until smooth and elastic, 3-5 minutes. Wrap the dough in plastic wrap and set it aside to rest for 1-2 hours.

The Filling
1 small onion
1 clove garlic (optional)
1/4 tsp each salt and fresh ground black pepper
1 lb 90 percent lean ground beef
1 lb ground pork

Peel the onion and chop in into large chunks. Put the onion and garlic (if using) into the food processor and process until very finely chopped--almost a puree. You'll have to scrape down the bowl once or twice during this process.

Turn the onions out into a bowl and add the meat, salt, and pepper. Mix until thoroughly combined. Cover with plastic wrap and chill for at least 1 hour.

Making the Dumplings

Divide the dough into thirds, keeping the unused portions covered with plastic wrap. On a well floured counter, roll the dough to 1/8 in thick (a pasta machine is good for this, too). Cut the dough into circles with a juice glass or other round cutter about 2 in in diameter.

Scoop up about 1/2 tsp of meat filling and roll it into a ball. Place the filling in the center of a pasta circle and fold the dough over to make a half moon, enclosing the meat in the center. The dough should be very supple and elastic, so if you're careful, it will stretch to fit over the little ball of filling.

Pinch the edges to seal, then pinch the two bottom ends of the dough together (like you would if you were making tortellini). Repeat until all the dough and filling are gone, re-rolling the scraps of dough to make more wrappers.

Put the pelmeni on cookie sheets that have been lightly dusted with flour, making sure that the dumplings don't touch each other. Freeze the dumplings for 1-2 hours, until they're fairly solid. You can now portion the dumplings into ziploc bags for storage--about 10 dumplings per person. Freeze the dumplings until you're ready to eat them.

To cook, boil the pelmeni in a copious amount of water, stirring immediately after you add them to the pot to prevent sticking. Watch for the dumplings to rise to the surface of the pot, then cook them 3 minutes more.

Drain and serve with butter, salt, and pepper, or in chicken or veal broth as a soup (a garnish of minced fresh chives or dill is nice in either case).

Leftovers reborn.

2007-10-21T21:44:23Z

Fall is here, so I've started up the oven again, roasting chicken and butternut squash and turnips and all sorts of good things. The chicken--butterflied, for quicker cooking--is one of my favorites, since it keeps me in dinners for almost a week. For example, last week's butterflied roast chicken with roasted potatoes, turnips, butternut squash, and roasted garlic gravy got eaten as-is for Sunday dinner.

The dark quarters and sides made two more meals, with the meat reheated in the broiler to crisp the skin back up.

1/2 of one of the breasts, the last of the potatoes and turnips, and the last of the gravy became a tasty chicken hash.

The bones--along with the back and neck from the butterflying process and the bones frozen from another week's roast chicken--went into my stock pot, along with an onion, two carrots peeled and cut in chunks, some whole peppercorns, and a few branches of fresh thyme.

That stock, along with the remainder of the butternut squash,and a splash of white wine became last night's lush, creamy butternut squash risotto.

And this evening? The leftover risotto became crispy arancini, stuffed with cubes of fresh mozerella, a pinch of finely sliced fresh sage, and a paper thin piece of prociutto di Parma, served with a glass of the wine that went into the risotto. Mmmm. Fried. And cheese.

Butternut Squash Arancini
Makes 6 Baseball Sized Arancini

1 egg
2 tsp water
3/4 cup plain dried breadcrumbs
1/4 tsp salt
1/4 tsp fresh ground pepper
2 cups peanut or canola oil

2 cups cold butternut squash risotto (though any other type would work just as well, and you could change up the filling to suit--a ground meat ragu with peas and cubes of mozerella is the traditional way to go)
2 oz prociutto, sliced paper thin
2 oz fresh mozerella cut into 1/4 in cubes
1 tsp fresh sage, finely sliced

Put the oil in a small, deep saucepan and turn the heat to medium. While the oil is heating, prepare the eggs and breading.

Beat the egg and water in a small bowl. Set aside.

Mix the breadcrumbs, salt, and pepper in a large shallow bowl (a pie pan also works well) and set aside.

Tear the prociutto into 2-3 in pieces. Take a piece of prociutto and sprinkle it with a pinch of sage, then top it with a cube of cheese (as you get better, you may be able to fit two pieces in each croquette, but start with one). Wrap the cheese and sage up in the prociutto to make a little packet.

Scoop out 1/3 cup of cold risotto and make a small well in the center. Insert the cheese and prociutto bundle and close it into the center of the rice, making a little rice ball.

Dip the rice ball in the egg mixture to coat, then roll it in the crumbs to get a thin coating.

Set the breaded rice ball on a rack set over a sheet pan and repeat until all of the risotto is gone.

When the oil reaches 360 degrees, carefully lower in two arancini--you don't want to crowd the pan. Fry until the coating is deep golden brown, turning so that all of the sides get cooked. It will take 1-2 minutes per croquette. Drain the finished arancini on a rack set over a sheet pan and serve hot.

Tongue tacos. Seriously.

2007-09-16T00:00:29Z

For some odd reason that I can't quite explain, I woke up on Thursday wanting tongue.

In a sandwich or a taco. Sheesh!

It's a mystery, since though I've heard people sing the praises of tongue tacos and sandwiches, I've never had tongue before, and I've certainly never cooked a tongue before. But for some reason, thinly sliced tongue on rye with mustard and horseradish and tongue folded into hot corn tortillas and topped with pico de gallo sounded really good.

So on my way home from work on Friday, I stopped to look for a tongue. A place where I've seen tongue before--it has a great selection of international foods and cuts of meat that can be hard to find in the local Stop and Shop, like skirt steak. No dice. No tongue. Bummer.

So I picked up the other things I'd need for tacos de lengua--tortillas and onions and cilantro and lime (I've got ripe tomatoes growing on the deck) and crossed my fingers that I'd be able to find tongue if I went back bright and early the next day.

Not much can get me out of bed at 7 AM on a Saturday, but an obsession with absolutely no basis in real-world experience is a surprisingly good motivator. So off to the store I went, and eureka! Tongue. In a neat cryovac package. At $3.99 a pound. I could get two pounds of seven bone chuck roast for that! Who knew offal was so expensive? But obsession doesn't quail at price, so 5 minutes and $11 later, I was the proud owner of a big old beef tongue.

Once I arrived home, I filled a large bowl with lightly salted water, opened up the tongue, and placed it gently in the salted water to soak for a few hours. While I waited, I filled my biggest pot with water, a few peppercorns, a dried bay leaf, four whole cloves of garlic, two carrots, and an onion, peeled and quartered.

I put the soaked tongue into the pot, brought it to a simmer, plunked on the lid, and popped it into a slow oven to braise until tender--about three hours.

I opened the oven to remove the now-cooked tongue and was hit by a wave of..... Pot roast! This tongue smelled exactly like pot roast.

So I fished the tongue out of the broth and dropped it into a bowl of cold water to cool. Once it was cool enough to handle, I used a sharp paring knife to score the tough "skin" that covers the tongue, and peeled it off. If the skin doesn't come off easily, the tongue isn't cooked enough--put it back in the oven for awhile.

After peeling the tongue, you'll see a thin white coating over the meat. Carefully scrape this off with a paring knife--a *sharp* paring knife, so you don't maul the tender meat, and remove any fat, gristle, or veins (these tend to be near the back of the tongue). Cut the tongue into thin slices against the grain.

I kept the firmer slices from the tip of the tongue for sandwiches, and used the more gelatinous meat near the back for tacos, chopped fine.

And you know, those tacos de lengua totally lived up to their advanced billing--deeply meaty, with the bright pico de gallo cutting through the fatty richness of the tender, crispy meat.

How did I get the meat crispy, when so far all I did was braise it? Read on....

Tacos de Lengua

Pico de Gallo -- chopped tomatoes, serrano chiles, onion, cilantro, and lime juice tossed with a pinch or two of salt
Warmed corn tortillas
Finely chopped cooked tongue

Heat a frying pan or griddle over medium high heat. Add as much of the chopped tongue as you plan to eat--about 1 1/2 tablespoons per taco. If the griddle or pan is nonstick, you won't need to add any oil, as the meat will render out some fat as it cooks. If your pan isn't nonstick, you may need to add a teaspoon or so of vegetable oil to prevent sticking.

Fry the tongue until crisp and browned on all sides, turning as needed. It will take 5 - 7 minutes to get the meat crispy on all sides.

Season with a pinch of sea salt, then portion the meat into the warm tortillas and top with pico de gallo.

In which I realize that I've missed most of the summer.....

2007-09-02T00:20:36Z

It's not that I've been hiding out at a summer-free place--It's that I've been busy, and buried under this summer's bounty of produce, and generally lacking in time to post anything. But now, under the wire, I'm getting in some barbeque in time for the last official weekend of summer.

OK--so it's not REALLY barbeque. It isn't slow smoked for hours and hours, it's slow cooked in the oven. But it's about as close to Carolina pulled pork as you can get without the smoker, and because it's made with my old friend the pork shoulder, it's cheap and darn near foolproof. All you need is time.....

This needs to sit in the fridge overnight with it's coating of rub, so begin it the night before you plan to eat it.

Carolina Style Pulled Pork

You could, I suppose, use sweet barbeque sauce on this, but I think you need the sharpness of the traditional vinegar-based sauce to cut through the richness of the pork. Serve with coleslaw on the side. Pile the meat on big soft snowflake rolls and you have a killer (if messy) sandwich.

Barbeque Rub
This is pretty close to the formula at Blue Ribbon, a local small barbeque chain. This will make enough rub for 2 recipes' worth of pork and sauce. It's good on chicken, too.

2 tbsp sweet smoked paprika
2 tbsp kosher salt
2 tablespoons packed brown sugar
1 tbsp Coleman's dry mustard
1 tbsp ground cumin (if you can pan toast and grind it fresh from whole seeds, so much the better)
1 tbsp ground ancho chile
1 1/2 tsp ground chipotle chile
1 1/2 tsp garlic powder

Mix all the ingredients well and set aside.

Carolina Barbeque Sauce
This isn't the thick sweet stuff you may be used to--it's much closer to Tabasco. It's the perfect paring with the rich pork, and keeps for eternity if you store it in the fridge. You may want to add more sugar to taste, but it is supposed to be pretty tart.

1 cup apple cider vinegar
1/4 cup ketchup
1 tbsp Frank's Hot Sauce
1 tbsp packed brown sugar
1 tsp barbeque rub
1 1/2 tsp red pepper flakes
1/2 tsp fresh ground black pepper

Stir all the ingredients together until the sugar and salt dissolve. Set aside.

The Pork
1 4 lb boneless pork butt (AKA shoulder)

Rub the pork well with a coat of the barbeque rub. Wrap it well in plastic wrap and chill for 8 to 16 hours. More time is better here.

Two hours before you begin cooking the pork, remove it from the fridge to let it warm to room temp.

Preheat your oven to 275 degrees. Put the pork into a dutch oven or casserole that just fits the meat. Rub the roast all over with 3 tbsp barbeque sauce.

Pop the pan in the oven and roast for 4 hours, or until the meat is fall-apart tender.

Let the meat rest for 30 - 45 minutes.
Meanwhile, pour any liquid that has accumulated in the pan into a gravy separator (or, if you're a glutton for punishment, you can skim the fat off with a spoon). Pour the pan juices into a large bowl and discard the fat.

Once the meat has rested, shred it using two forks to pull it apart with the grain. (This is where it helps to have a friend--otherwise halfway through you're wishing you had bought a smaller roast.) Put the shredded meat into the bowl with the pan juices, and add 3/4 cup barbeque sauce. Toss until the meat is thoroughly moistened with sauce. Taste to make sure that you can taste the vinegar sauce--if not add more sauce to the meat and toss to coat.

Serve warm, with rolls and coleslaw on the side.

Salad Nicoise

2007-06-24T16:48:46Z

I've never been to Nice--not yet, anyhow--but its residents have come up with a fine (and famous) salad, perfect for summer time. Salad Nicoise is a mixture of green beans, olives, capers, anchovies, egg, new potatoes, tomato (and any other vegetables that are in season--fresh fava beans are especially nice), topped with a lively vinagrette and some cooked tuna.

If you use good canned tuna (splurge on the stuff that's from Italy, packed in olive oil), you won't have to heat up the house any more than it takes to quickly steam the potatoes and beans and cook the egg. Or you could use leftover broiled (and overcooked--gah--not paying attention to the tuna under the broiler = cooked through rather than medium-rare) tuna steak. You could even broil or grill tuna especially for the occasion and serve it warm or hot (though I prefer the salad--including the tuna--slightly cool or at room temp).

Served with a glass of wine and some good bread, it's a lovely lunch or light dinner.

Salad Nicoise

Serves 2

Vinagrette
1 small clove garlic, peeled
Pinch salt
1/8 tsp anchovy paste, or l anchovy fillet (optional but good)
Fresh ground black pepper
1 tsp Dijon mustard (not traditional, but a good match with the tuna, and it helps emulsify the dressing)
1 tbsp red wine vinegar
3 tbsp extra virgin olive oil
2 tsp small capers

Mash the garlic together with the salt and anchovy until you have a paste. Add the pepper, mustard, and vinegar and stir to combine. Drizzle in the oil, whisking constantly. Stir in the capers and taste for seasoning--you may need to add more salt, pepper, oil or vinegar to suit your taste.

The Salad
3 small new potatoes, washed
1/2 lb haricot vert or regular green beans, ends cut off
2 hard boiled eggs, peeled and quartered
2 small or 1 large ripe tomato (if you can't get really good ones, leave them out)
1/2 cup nicoise olives or other small olives--I use kalamata because good ones are readily available
1 can tuna packed in olive oil, or 1 4-5 oz cooked tuna steak, sliced into 1/4 in thick slices

Put a steaming rack in a medium sized pot and fill the pot with 2 in of water. Bring the water to a boil over medium-high heat and put the potatoes on the steaming rack. Put a tight lid on the pot and steam the potatoes for 15 minutes.

Add the green beans to the steamer and steam the beans and potatoes an additional 5 minutes, or until the potatoes are just cooked through and the beans are bright green but still have crunch. Transfer the beans and potatoes to an ice-water bath for 5 minutes, then drain.

Slice the potatoes into 1/2 in slices.

Put the green beans in a large bowl and toss with 1/2 of the vinagrette. Arrange the beans on a platter. Arrange the potatoes, eggs, tomato, olives, and tuna on top of the beans. Drizzle with the remaining vinagrette.

Really cool suppers

2007-05-28T19:47:37Z

Spring is teetering on the brink of summer here in New England, and the weather has multiple personalities--50 degrees and rainy one day, 85 degrees and sunny the next.

The 50 degree days are easy enough--you can keep on eating the same stuff you made in the winter and early spring. Braises. Roasts. That sort of thing. The hot and humid days, on the other hand--those require some thought. It's a challenge to find things that are tasty and filling (but not too filling) and that don't require heating up the house.

That's why, on those swampy days, I turn to salads and sandwiches. Green salads with grilled chicken, or Caesars with anchovy in the dressing, Cobb salad with creamy chopped avocado and smoky, salty bacon, or Salad Nicoise with tuna, egg, olives, and coled sliced potato. If I want something heartier, I go to sandwiches. Sloppy Joes (the North Jersey kind--a triple decker of ham, turkey, swiss, cole slaw, and Russian dressing on rye), or Mufalettas (Italian salumi and cheeses, topped with olive relish on a crusty round loaf), BLTs, and sometimes Pan Bagnat--Salad Nicoise on a crusty French loaf, the best of all worlds.

Literally, Pan Bagnat means "Bathed Bread," so called because when it's chilled and pressed, the juices from the olives and the tuna and the vegetables and olive oil and vinegar mingle and soak through the bread. It's not a proper Pan Bagnat, say the folks on the French Riviera, if the juices aren't dripping down your elbow.

Myself, I think that's kind of overkill--I prefer not to require an apron when eating lunch--but you'll still need a hearty, crusty loaf for this, to keep the sandwich from falling apart after it's pressed.

Pan Bagnat

Serves 4

The great thing about this sandwich is that you can use pretty much anything you like. Olives, capers, tuna, sliced sweet peppers and onions--all traditional. But you can mix and match and use any fillings you like. (NB--Roasted or grilled vegetables make a great Pan Bagnat for vegetarians)

1 loaf crusty country style French or Italian bread
extra virgin olive oil
Red wine vinegar
6-8 oz canned tuna packed in olive oil
3-4 anchovies, minced (optional but good)
10 kalamata olives, pitted and corsely chopped
1 tbsp capers, corsely chopped
2 hard boiled eggs, cooled, peeled, and sliced
1 roasted red pepper
1/2 seedless cucumber, sliced thin
1 tomato, sliced thin
1/2 sweet onion, peeled and sliced thin
10-20 fresh basil leaves
fresh ground pepper

Cut the loaf of bread in half lenghtwise. Scoop out some of the crumb, leaving a bread shell.

Sprinkle the bread generously with the extra virgin olive oil and vinegar, then spread with the anchovies, olives and capers. Layer in the eggs, roasted pepper, tomato, onion, basil, and tuna. Season with fresh ground pepper.

Wrap the sandwich tightly in several layers of plastic wrap. Put it in a shallow pan with a weight on top--a cast iron pan or coookie sheet with cans on top works well. Chill and press the sandwich for at least two hours and up to 24 hours. Slice and serve with penty of napkins.

From garnish to main event.

2007-05-20T13:30:19Z

As you can probably tell by looking at the majority of the pictures here on the Omnivorous Egg, I'm not one of those people who goes in for painstaking presentation or elegant and elaborate garnishes. Usually, I plate everything up, trying to be at least moderately neat, move my dish to wherever the light is likely to be best for pictures, and take a bunch of snapshots really quickly--this is my food, after all, and I want to eat it while it's still warm/hot/cold/frozen.

That's not to say, though, that I don't have the greatest respect for folks who have the eye to set up a truly lovely photo. And I'm really blown away by the folks who have the skill and patience to create elegant garnishes, like the graceful swoop of chocolate and the delecate window pane of sugar candy on this lovely mousse made by Bea, at La Tartine Gourmand.

There are other types of garnishes too--the ones that are meant to compliment or contrast the main dish being served--the herbs, beansprouts, and lime that you get with pho, for example. Sometimes, I like these garnishes as much as the dish that they're meant to enhance.

Probably my favorite garnish of all is one of the simplest--fried breadcrumbs. Yup, just melted butter, breadcrumbs, and maybe a pinch of salt and a grind of black pepper, toasted in a pan until golden. They're crispy and buttery and nutty, and (as far as I'm concerned), an indespensible accompniment to spaetzel and macaroni and cheese.

Imagine my delight, then, when, while hunting around for a place that serves Tex-Mex Migas, I came across info about the Spanish variety. What are Migas, you ask? Well, literally, they're crumbs--in the case of the Texas kind, bits of corn tortillas, toasted on a griddle till the edges are golden and they have a roasty corn flavor, then scrambled with eggs, onion, tomato, peppers, and maybe Mexican style chorizo. Spanish Migas, on the other hand, are bits of stale bread browned with olive oil and garlic, and maybe peppers and/or onions and/or Spanish chorizo, and/or bacon, and/or paprika, and sometimes--sometimes--topped with a fried egg. It all depends on where in Spain you are. It's not just toasted crumbs as garnish--it's toasted crumbs as meal.

Seeing as I'm not in Spain at all right now, I've made my Migas "cafeteria style", picking ingredients that I like and leaving out the ones I'm not so fond of. You can do the same, since the only things that are really necessary are the stale bread, the olive oil, and the garlic. My Migas may not be the most authentic, but hey--I like them, and they give me a way to use up my stale bread.

Spanish-Style Migas

Serves 1
I tend to eat this for breakfast, but it also makes a good light lunch or supper if you serve it with a salad, some nice crusty bread, and some wine.

1 1/2 tablespoons olive oil
1/8 lb Spanish Chorizo, thinly sliced on the bias
1/4 cup breadcrumbs from a stale baguette or loaf of country bread, or 1/2 cup of stale bread torn into tiny pieces
1/8 tsp smoked paprika
1 medium clove garlic, peeled and finely chopped
1 tbsp minced fresh parsley
salt and pepper to taste
1 egg

Put all but one tsp of the olive oil in a large nonstick skillet. Heat the oil over medium heat until hot but not smoking and add the sliced chorizo. Cook the chorizo, stirring occasionally, until it crisps at the edges and renders out its fat--about two minutes.

Add the garlic and paprika and cook until fragrant, 20-30 seconds. Add the breadcrumbs and toss to coat with the oil in the pan. Cook, stirring frequently, until the breadcrumbs are toasted and golden brown, about 2 minutes. Taste for seasoning and add salt and pepper as needed. Stir in 2/3 of the chopped parsley and put the migas on your serving dish.

Wipe out the pan and add the remaining tsp of oil. Turn the heat to low and break the egg in the pan. Cook 2-3 minutes, until the white is set but the yolk is still runny.

Slide the egg onto the migas and garnish with the remaining parsley.

Spring at last

2007-05-05T19:06:46Z

Springtime has finally arrived. That means along with hay fever (darn adult onset allergies...), and deadlines at work, I also have a yen for pie.

Somewhat problematically, however, springtime is not the time for lovely fresh fruit--a key component in pie. So in desparation, I do the next best thing--I make a tart. A rustic kind of tart which uses frozen fruit--rustic because the thawing fruit weeps juice all over the filling and the crust. But with a little forsight, you can make a virtue out of necessity and turn all of the fruit juice into a slightly sweet glaze.

Plus, the sturdier crust you need to pull this sort of tart off (sweet pastry, rather than regular flaky pie crust) is extremely forgiving. Sturdy, easy to handle, and not prone to sogginess or toughness, it's a good place to start for crust novices--more like a sugar cookie dough than a standard crust.

And so, in a few hours (most of which is spent waiting for the crust to bake or to cool--actual prep time is perhaps 30 minutes) or so, you can sit down to a lovely slice of:

Berry Tart

Makes 1 9 in tart
Adapted from a recipe on Everyday Food

Tart Dough
1 1/2 c (7.5 oz) flour
1/4 c sugar
1/4 tsp salt
1/4 cup chileld butter, cut into 1/4 in chunks
about 1/4 cup cold water
1 egg yolk
1/2 tsp vanilla extract

Preheat your oven to 350 degrees.

Mix the flour, salt, and sugar together in a bowl (or the bowl of a food processor)until well combined.

Add the butter chunks to the flour mixture, tossing quickly to coat the butter with flour. Cut the butter into the flour until the butter is the size of peas, or pulse the mixture in a food processor, about 12 1 second pulses.

Beat together the egg yolk and the extract and add to the bowl, along with 3 tablespoons of the water. Mix (or pulse the food processor) until it begins to come together into crumbs. Take a few of these crumbs in the palm of your hand and squeeze. If they hold together, the dough is ready. If not, add more water, tablespoon by tablespoon, until the mixture does hold together when squeezed.

Pour the crumbs into a tart pan with a seperate bottom. Press the crumbs into a uniform layer in the pan, working your way up the sides. When the entire pan is covered in an even layer of dough, prick the bottom portion of the tart shell well with a fork. Line the tart shell with foil and dried beans or other weights and bake it until the edges are golden brown, 15-20 minutes. Remove from the oven and let cool completely.

Tart Filling
2 cups frozen mixed berries
1/4 cup apricot jam
8 oz Neufatel cheese or cream cheese, or, if you're feeling really decadent, 8 oz or mascarpone--room temperature
1/4 cup sugar
1/2 tsp vanilla extract
2 tbsp honey

Whip the sugar, vanilla, and cheese together until fluffy, about 1 min with a hand or stand mixer.

Heat the jam in a large bowl in the microwave until melted--about 1 min on medium power.
Add the still-frozen berries and toss to coat.

Spread the cheese mixture evenly into in the cooled tart shell (an offset spatula helps with this, but a rubber spatula works too). Drizzle with the honey, then top with the berries.

Remove the tart from the pan.

Chill the tart until the berries thaw (1 hour or so), then slice and serve.

Intro to Aperol?

2007-04-21T12:08:35Z

Aperol seems to be making a splash lately. The burnt-orange Italian aperitif recently arrived in the states, sleek bottle, Art Deco label and all.

It is, I must say, an aquired taste--at first sweet and orangey, but with a bitter finish that people don't always expect. In Italy, you'll often find the Aperol spritz--Aperol mixed with white wine or procecco, topped up with soda water, maybe served on the rocks with a twist of orange peel.

I must say, I do like these--they're like a more bracing version of a Kir Royale--and you can even skip the wine and just do Aperol, ice, and soda water. Each one isn't super alcholic or filling, and I find that the bitter edge makes them a nice way to prepare for a summer dinner (or digest after one).

But spritzers aren't all Aperol can do. It plays well with other alcohols, so it makes a good mixer. Subbing Aperol in for Campari in a Negroni creates something that's not a Negroni (Aperol makes the drink too sweet for that) but is kind of a Negroni with training wheels--good for people who want to ease into the bracing bitterness of the real thing. And then there's the popular new cocktail at the Manhattan bar Pegu Club--Intro to Aperol. Alas, I haven't had one, but according to reports, it sounds alot like a Jasmine that uses (you guessed it) Aperol instead of Campari.

So, having Aperol and lemons, and plenty of Plymouth gin, I started fiddling around and came up with a cocktail. Is it an Intro to Aperol? Probably not, but it's good, with a grapefruity taste like it's cousin the Jasmine.

The Cocktail

Fill a shaker with ice.

Add:
1 1/2 oz Plymouth Gin (trust me here--it's smoother and less, um, piney than something like Tanqueray or Bombay)
1/4 oz fresh lemon juice
1/4 oz Cointreau
1/2 oz Aperol

Shake vigourously for 20-30 seconds, until the bottom of the shaker begins to frost--you want the completed cocktail to have teeny flecks of ice in it.

Strain into a cocktail glass.

Strange Bedfellows

2007-04-06T23:17:38Z

What's that behind that plate full of waffles? It's a Manhattan. I don't usually drink Manhattans with waffles, but it's been one of those days.

Deadlines are looming in my day job, and I've spent the past three weeks converting Word documents into HTML. In an effort to get as many documents done as possible, I worked from home yesterday and today (hooray for the miracle of the high-speed conection, and telecommuting). As far as work goes, the plan worked great--I've gotten a bunch of documents done. But in terms of UPS packages? Well, that's another story.

UPS won't leave packages in my vestibule. Not even with a signature. This causes a problem, as I work--usually at work, rather than at home, and work doesn't allow personal packages for delivery in their mail room. And I can't really get to the UPS distribution center because it's in the opposite direction from the aforementioned work.

I figured that working at home these past two days would have a number of added benefits, apart from increased productivity--among them, the ability to accept delivery of two packages. But I was wrong. I never left the house, but somehow both yesterday and today, the UPS guy managed to come and go without making his presence known, except by the leaving of an Info Notice.

Grr.

There is good news, though.

Working at home also means I can squeeze some cooking in as I work, especially if it's the sort of food that does most of the prep for you. Something like, say, raised waffles.

Raised waffles also have the benefit of allowing me to show off my neato GE deco waffle iron,lovely to look at and delightful to use.

It makes perfect crispy waffles, and if you keep it full of batter, it won't overheat on you. Happily, I didn't even have to season the grids, since the eBay seller I bought it from cleaned up the outside but left the inside alone.

If you can't find one on eBay, you can also get a fully restored one at Toaster Central, for not much more than you would pay for a modern Villa Ware iron. It's worth it, since the older irons don't have teflon grids, which make for crispier waffles.

And the raised waffles themselves? Well, they're really good, and dead simple:

Raised Waffles

Modified from the version in Cook's Illustrated. Makes 4 5 inch waffles (if you're using an American style waffle iron, which makes thinner, crispier waffles than a Belgian waffle iron).

Put 7 oz milk, 4 tbsp unsalted butter, 1/2 tsp salt, and 1 1/2 tsp sugar into a saucepan. Heat until the butter is melted and the sugar and salt is dissolved. Set aside to cool until you can't feel a drop of the liquid when it's placed on the inside of your wrist.

Add 1/2 tsp vanilla extract and 1 large egg. Beat lightly to break the egg yolk.

Meanwhile, combine 1 cup (5 oz) flour and 1 1/2 tsp instant yeast in a medium sized mixing bowl. Add the egg and milk mixture, stirring to combine. Beat until there are no lumps.

Cover the batter with plastic wrap and chill in the fridge for at least 6 hours or over night.

Cook the waffles according to the instructions that came with your waffle iron.

Macarons

2007-03-26T01:31:27Z

Well, I'm back from vacation--a trip to Paris and London. It was a greatest hits of food--the food halls at Harrods. Tea from Fortnum & Mason. A pint in a pub. Cream tea. Full
English breakfast. Dinner in Paris at a little restaurant near the Louvre that specialized in cuisine Lyonnaise. Brioche and coffee in the morning at Angelina. Dinner again--Moroccan this time. Discs of spongy Moroccan bread. An assortments of olives and cold salads. Chicken and olive tangine with preserved lemons. Vegetable couscous. Mint tea. And last but not least, a place that I unaccountably missed the first time I was in Paris--Laduree.

Laduree, a venerable pastry shop and tea room on the Rue Royale that specializes in one of the world's perfect cookies--the macaron.

These are related to the American macaroon--the old school almond kind, not the coconut--but the French macaron is more delecate. Two discs of almond cookie--a crisp exterior yielding to a chewy interior, with a filling in between.

At Laduree, that filling is usually buttercream in a rainbow of flavors and colors--Rose (good with champagne), Violet, Lemon, Vanilla, Coffee, Pistachio, Licorice, Raspberry-Blackcurrent. It's a superlative buttercream--not greasy and not too sweet. But I prefer the macarons that have non-buttercream filling--Chocolate, filled with bittersweet chocolate ganache, and the best of all of the Laduree macarons, Salted Caramel, sandwiched in between two chocolate cookies.

And even better,the delicious confections are wrapped up in gorgeous packaging.

When I got home, I decided to give macarons a shot myself. The few patiserries around here that make them tend to make them mooshy and bland, without the intense flavor and lovely texture of the Lauduree macarons.

I wasn't up for making my own caramel today (pretty much the only choice if you want to reproduce those delectable salted caramel ones) so I went with chocolate.

My recipe is based on the one that Clement wrote about on A La Cuisine, slightly modified.

Chocolate Macarons

Macaron Batter
1 1/4 cups powdered sugar
2 tbsp Cocoa Powder
4 oz (1 cup) almond flour or finely ground almonds
1/3 cup plus 2 tbsps egg whites at room temperature
pinch of salt
scant 1/4 cup granulated sugar
1 recipe Ganache filling

Let eggwhites come to room temperature.

Line a half sheet pan with parchment.
Sift the almond flour, cocoa powder, and powdered sugar together.

In a large clean, dry bowl whip egg whites with salt on medium speed until foamy. Increase the speed to high and gradually add granulated sugar. Continue to whip to stiff peaks – the whites should be firm and shiny.

Fold the almond mixture into the egg whites until completely incorporated. The mixture should be shiny and ‘flow like magma.’ When small peaks dissolve to a flat surface, stop mixing.

Fit a piping bag with a 3/8-inch (1 cm) round tip. Pipe the batter onto the parchment covered baking sheet in 1 in circles. It's easiest to make a big blob of batter, then follow along after with a water-dampened finger and tap down any peaks that are left on top of the cookies so that they're smooth. Think mini hamburger buns. Tap the underside of the baking sheet to remove air bubbles. Let dry at room temperature for 1 or 2 hours to allow skins to form.

Bake, in a 325F oven for 15 to 20 minutes. Use a wooden spoon to keep the oven door slightly ajar, and rotate the baking sheet half way through the baking time.

Remove macarons from oven and transfer parchment to a cooling rack. When completely cool, slide a spatula underneath the cookies to remove from parchment. (Note that they must be stone cold if you want to have any chance of removing them from the parchment in something approximating one piece.)

Pair macarons of similar size, and spread or pipe about 1/2 tsp of the filling onto one of the macarons. Sandwich macarons, and age overnight in an airtight tin for the flavors to mingle (or be impatient and eat them now).

Ganache Filling
This will make more ganache than you need, but with the addition of 1 tbsp of corn syrup, the rest makes a delectable chocolate sauce.

3.5 oz/100g bittersweet chocolate, chopped
1/4 cup plus 2 tbsp heavy cream

Heat the cream to a boil. Add the chocolate and stir until completely smooth. Set aside to firm up enough to spread.

Congee with Crispy Minced Beef

2007-03-03T17:17:01Z

Last weekend was consumed by one of those project meals. You know--the ones that involve many hours and many components. I'll write it up at some point, though it would take almost as much time to document it as it did to make it.

This weekend, I'm falling back on quick and simple dishes. This one also has the merit of being comforting and cheap--Congee (or jook, if you're Cantonese) with Crispy Minced Beef. The Crispy Minced Beef part is my own addition--you can eat jook plain, or garnished with a bit of green onion and chopped peanut and a drizzle of sesame oil, or with all of those garnishes plus quarters of thousand year old egg, or with shredded chicken and chopped cilantro, or, well, you get the idea.

In this case, I garnished my jook with quick-cooked beef, crispy on the outside and juicy inside, a swirl of nutty toasted sesame oil, and a sprinking of Hunan-style preserved chilis. You can skip the chilis, of course, and use a sprinkle of cilantro or chopped scallion instead. It's all up to you--the point is finding ingredients that make a plesant contrast to the creamy, mild rice porridge.

Congee with Crispy Minced Beef

Serves 2
For the Rice Porridge
1/2 cup medium grain white rice--no converted rice for this, please. Thai jasmine rice adds a nice floral quality to the finished product, if you like it.
3/4 cup chicken stock
1/4 cup milk
1 cup water

Put the rice and the liquids into a heavy saucepan. Turn on the burner and bring the mixture to a simmer, then turn the heat to low. Cook the jook 2-3 hours, until the rice begins to break down, stirring occasionally and adding more water as needed to achieve the texture that you want. I'm partial to something a bit more watery than oatmeal.

For the Crispy Minced Beef
3 oz ground beef
1/2 tsp dark soy sauce
1/2 tsp shaoxing rice wine or dry sherry
pinch sugar
1/2 tsp cornstarch
1 tbsp grapeseed or other oil with a high smoke point

Mix the ground beef, soy, sugar, rice wine, and cornstarch. Chill for at least 10 minutes and up to several hours.

When you are ready to serve the jook, heat a wok or a nonstick skillet over high heat. When the pan is hot, add the oil, then the beef, stirring to break it up into pieces. Stir fry the beef until it is dry and crisp outside, but not dry.

For Garnish
Chopped cilantro
Chopped green onion
Chopped peanuts
Toasted sesame oil
Hunan style preserved chili

To serve, ladle the jook into bowls. Top with any of the garnishes, and a tablespoon or so of the beef. Eat while the jook is still warm.

The Mother of Invention

2007-02-19T16:39:13Z

Nothing gets the creative juices flowing like spur-of-the-moment dinner guests--in this case my cousin and her fiancee.

Neither one expects anything elaborate, but even so, with guests I always feel compelled to do something at least a little bit special. But right now, Salem is slowly thawing its way out of glacerdom, thanks to last week's nor'easter, which deposited two inches of snow, sleet, and freezing rain, which then solidified into two inches of solid ice. And my car? Trapped in this ice like a fly in amber. So no quick grocery store runs for me--whatever this special thing turns out to be will be created strictly with what I have on hand.

So then. It's spaghetti and meatballs for dinner. They're quick--I have meatballs in the freezer, and pasta and the raw ingredients for sauce are always in my pantry--and everybody likes them. But spaghetti and meatballs? Not very special. So I cast around for something special to throw together for dessert. Something that goes nicely with spaghetti and meatballs.

I look through the fridge and the pantry for Italian-dessert-type stuff. I come up with eggs, a bunch of Amaretti di Sarranno, butter, sugar, and chocolate. Which means, after much hemming and hawing, that I will attempt to throw together an Amaretti Chocolate Cake. Without a recipe.

Winging it like this is always a dangerous proposition. Sometimes, things come out inedibly awful. Most of the time, things come out edible but not worth repeating. And every once in awhile, they come out great--totally worth making again. Happily, this cake--worth making again. It's dense and chocolately and almondy, with a crackly chewy crust and a moist interior, like a more elegant, fudgy, almond-laced brownie.

Chocolate Amaretti Cake

1 cup finely crushed Amaretti cookies--about 170 grams whole cookies,ground in the food processor
1 tsp baking powder
1/4 tsp salt
2 eggs, separated
Scant 1/4 c granulated sugar
1 stick unsalted butter
100 grams dark chocolate
1/8 cup cocoa powder

Preheat your oven to 350 degrees. Grease a cake pan well and line the bottom with parchment. Set the pan aside.

Put the egg yolks in a bowl and whip with the sugar until the sugar is dissolved and the yolks are lemon colored and fluffy--about 10 minutes.

Melt the butter in a saucepan until the solids brown and the butter smells nutty. Don't walk away during this process--browned turns into burned quickly, and if the butter burns you have to toss it and start again.

Add the chocolate, cocoa powder, and salt to the butter and stir until the chocolate is fully melted. Whip the egg whites to soft peaks.

Add the chocolate mixture to the eggs and beat until incorporated. Stir in the cookie crumbs and baking powder until incorporated. Fold in the egg whites until blended, then spread the mixture into the prepared cake pan. The mixture will be thick, so you'll have to spread it flat if you want a nice flat top on your cake.

Bake the cake 40-50 minutes--until the edges are cooked and the center just stops giggling when you tap the pan. Cool for 15 minutes in the pan, then turn the cake out onto a platter. Serve warm, topped with a dusting of powdered sugar and/or cocoa.

What have I done to deserve this flat, flavorless Manhattan?

2007-02-10T23:16:23Z

Ah, The Simpsons. There really is an episode and a quote for everything....

Apologies to Fat Tony (and Bart, apparently a maker of exemplary Manhattans) my issue with the drink tends not to be that they are flat and flavorless, but that they're either too, well, bourbon-y, or that they're cloying with sweet vermouth and Maraschino cherry.

As with most mixed drinks, there are three secreats to success--quality of the raw ingredients, a finely tuned sense of proportion, and the ability to keep the drink COLD.

Proportion, though, is a matter of taste--I happen to prefer a two to one ratio, two parts whiskey to one part sweet vermouth. Some folks go as low as 1/2 part vermouth, some as high as 2 parts vermouth to two parts whisky. You'll have to experiment to see what's right for you.

The photo notwithstanding, I'm also a big proponent of the smaller cocktail glass of yore--one that held 4-6 oz, as opposed to the bathtub sized glasses you find today. Yes, if you're paying $12 for a single drink (sans tip), I guess you feel better if that single drink is big enough to fell an elephant. But the down side to this is that it's hard to drink an enitre drink while it's still cold (or over-diluted by melting ice).

Anyhow, here's the formula for the Manhattan that I favor.

Manhattan

Makes 2 drinks

Add to an ice-filled glass:

2.5 oz sweet vermouth
4 oz rye or bourbon (I usually use bourbon, since it's what I have on hand, though rye is traditional)
3 dashes bitters (Angoustra is the standard, but I tend to like Orange Bitters here. The most easily obtainable brand seems to be Fee Brothers. If you want to go chi-chi, you could try Stirrings' Blood Orange Bitters.)

Stir well. I like to stir/chill for 1 full minute.

Strain into glasses, and garnish with a Maraschino cherry and/or orange slice if desired.

Ah, cupcakes.

2007-02-04T16:01:09Z

Cupcakes are currently enjoying a renaissance. They've become the foundation of many a trendy bakery.

Now, I like cupcakes, but generally I find that even the ones from the most renowned bakeries aren't quite what I want. Too bland, too dry, too gummy, too much frosting, or Crisco-cream frosting instead of real buttercream or cream cheese or seven minute icing. So when I really want a cupcake, I make it myself.

So, in preparation for today's game, I've made a batch of Red Velvet cupcakes from a recipe on epicurious, topped with real cream cheese frosting.

You can get to the cupcake recipe by clicking on this link. But what's in the cream cheese frosting, you ask?

Cream Cheese Frosting

1 stick unsalted butter, at cool room temperature (about 68 degrees)
1/2 package of cream cheese, at cool room temperature (about 68 degrees)
1 tsp vanilla extract
2 cups powdered sugar

Cut the butter into 1/4 in cubes. Put the butter in a bowl (or the bowl of a stand mixer) and beat with a mixer on low speed until fluffy--about one minute. Add the cream cheese and vanilla and beat until combined, roughly another minute. Scrape down the sides of the bowl and add the powdered sugar in 1/4 cup increments, beating until combined before each addition. Turn the mixer to high speed and beat 1 minute, until very fluffy.

Desperation Dining, Part Two

2007-02-04T00:07:35Z

Apparently when I say "an occasional series", I really mean occasional......

About this time last year, I I wrote an entry about pizza or, more precisely, the difficulty of obtaining good pizza here in New England. My solution to this problem? To make my own, which is also the solution to the problem of bagels.

I miss bagels. Bagels with a crusty exterior and a chewy interior. Bagels that taste of wheat and yeast. I've been looking, but I haven't found those bagels here.

There's Finagel a Bagel, a local chain, but Finagel's bagels tend to be dry and mealy inside, and if there's one thing I can't stand, it's a mealy bagel. I've tried Kupels, often touted as the best in Boston, and found the same problem--mealiness. H&H bagels, par baked and shipped up here? Tried em, but nothing I've found compares to the bagels at Flanders Bagel near my parents' house.

So when I got a gift card to a book store for Christmas (thanks, Lou!), I bought Crust and Crumb by Peter Reinhart, which has a recipe for bagels that was recommended by the folks at Chowhound and was helpfully posted at The Foppish Baker.

Reinhart's recipe is a process--you have to make a poolish (24 hrs for fermenting), make a dough (2 hrs or so for rising), form and retard the bagels (8 hrs of retarding), then boil and bake them. As I said--a process.

But a process that turns out a lovely, silky dough, and chewy, crusty bagels. As good as Flanders Bagel? Well, not yet. They could be a bit crustier..... But they're darn close.

Fast food

2007-01-28T19:20:58Z

Last week I was feeling pretty lazy. Too lazy to grocery shop after work, too lazy to bestir myself to cook much. That meant that my meals were made from stuff I already had in my pantry or my fridge, and that none of them took more than 30 minutes to put together.

Usually this means that I fall back on my old standbys--hamburgers, burritos, omlettes--but every once in awhile I improvise something new with what's around. In this case, what's around was:

1 large butternut squash, last of the food from this year's CSA share.
Garlic
Olive oil
Spaghetti (a triumvirate which I always have on hand)
Smoked Spanish paprika--an implulse buy from one of my vacations, and one I ought to use more often.
Fresh farmer's cheese, purchased for something or other, and then I forgot what that something was.

put them all together, and you get a riff on Spaghetti Aglio y Olio--hot spaghetti tossed with cubes of naturally sweet roasted squash, bathed in an earthy garlicy smoky sauce of garlic, olive oil, and paprika, and finished with cool, creamy dollops of fresh cheese....

Spaghetti with Roasted Squash, Garlic, and Smoked Paprika

Serves 1

To make this quick, I roasted the squash the night before, then kept it in the fridge, ready to be added to the sauce. If the squash is pre cooked, the sauce goes together in the time it takes the pasta to cook.

To roast squash, peel any hard winter squash (I like butternut, hubbard, acorn, or pumpkin). Cut the squash in half and scrape out the strings and seeds, then cut the flesh of the squash into 1/2 in dice. Toss with just enough olive oil to coat, then bake in a 350 degree oven until tender and beginning to brown at the edges--45 min to 1 hour.

2 oz spaghetti
Salt
1 tbsp extra virgin olive oil (not the really good stuff, since you'll be cooking with this)
1/2 cup cubed roasted winter squash
1 clove garlic, minced
1/2 tsp smoked sweet paprika
1 oz farmer cheese (optional). Ricotta would work well too.

Fill a large pot with water and salt well. Bring the water to a boil and cook the spaghetti until just al dente--8-10 min.

Meanwhile, put a large skillet over low heat. Add the olive oil and garlic. Cook for 5 min, until the garlic just begins to turn golden. Turn the heat to medium and add the cubed squash. Saute for 2 min, being careful not to burn the garlic. Stir in the paprika.

Drain the pasta, reserving 1 cup or so of the cooking liquid. Put the hot pasta into the pan with the squash, and add enough cooking liquid to make a thin sauce--1/4 cup should be enough to start, but add more if the pasta becomes too dry. Toss the pasta to coat, and cook until done, 1-2 minutes.

Serve in a warmed bowl, topped with dollops of cheese.

Bean supper

2007-01-16T00:28:57Z

Got a gray, rainy, chilly day and lots of time to putter around the house?

It's the perfect day for a bean supper.

Yup. That's right. Homemade baked beans, not as the side dish, but as the main.

OK, if you really want to use them as a side dish, you can serve sausages or steak or burgers or chicken or whatever as the entree, but real homemade baked beans are so lovely and flavorful, and so different from the kind that comes in a can, that they really can stand on their own. Just add a piece of hot cornbread (or biscuits, or--if you're a real traditionalist--brown bread) and call it a meal.

Boston Baked Beans

Makes 8-10 servings as a main dish, twice that many as a side.

2 oz salt pork, rind cut off, diced into 1/4 in dice
2 slices bacon, cut into 1/4 in wide pieces
1 lb dry small white beans (navy beans work well) picked over to remove broken beans and rocks and dirt
1 lg onion, peeled, with the stem end cut off--just peeled, with the stem cut off, not sliced or diced, and definately not with the root end cut off--you need it to hold the onion together
1/4 cup brown mustard
1/2 cup unsulfured molasses
1 tbsp cider vinegar (optional)
2 tbsp additional molasses

Fill a teakettle with water and put it on to boil. Preheat your oven to 300 degrees.

Put the salt pork in a medium-size frying pan over medium heat. Cook until the fat begins to render out and the salt pork just begins to crisp at the edges. Add the bacon and cook until it and the salt pork are crisp. Drain out any excess fat, leaving 2 tbsp in the pan.

Put the beans, bacon and salt pork, mustard, and molasses in a bean pot or casserole with a tight fitting lid. Stir to combine, then nestle the onion down into the beans.

Pour in boiling water until it rises about 2 inches over the surface of the beans.

Cover the casserole and bake for 4 hours, stirring every hour, and adding water as needed to keep the beans covered with liquid. Uncover the beans and cook for 2 more hours, until the beans are cooked through and the liquid is reduced to a sauce that coats the back of a spoon.

Remove the beans from the oven and stir in the cider vinegar and molasses. Serve warm.

Tacos again.

2007-01-13T17:01:52Z

I've talked about tacos before, I know, but somehow I've missed spotlighting my favorite taco, a taco filled with potatoes, cooked until they are soft in the center and crisp on the outside, and spicy chorizo, topped with slivers of crisp white onion and a bright-tasting salsa verde.

This is a pretty simple recipe--sausage, onions, potatoes, fried up together like hash, then folded into fresh, hot corn tortillas. Like most simple recipes, though, changes in ingredients and technique can make a big difference in the end product.

Take the sausage, for example--there's not much access to Mexican ingredients here, so if I want real Mexican chorizo without mounting a major expidition, I just make my own. It's easy to make, and freezes well. Rick Bayless has a good recipe for it in Mexico One Plate at a Time.

If I'm not feeling that ambitious, I cheat and use Chourico or Linguica, with a generous addition of ground chipotle. This is totally inauthentic--Chourico and Linguica are the Portuguese versions of Spanish Chorizo and Longaniza, which are really cousins to Mexican Chorizo. All of the sausages are made with pork and garlic and spices and chiles (in the case of the Spanish/Portuguese variety, that's usually smoked paprika, in the case of Mexican, that's often Ancho or Guajillo chiles, which have a different flavor). Spanish/Portuguese sausages are dried/cured, like salami. Mexican chorizo, on the other hand, contains a shot of vinegar and oregano, which the European versions don't, and is raw, like Italian sausage is here. Anyhow, both the authentic version and the cheat are very tasty, and I'll give instructions for both.

Then there are the potaotes. They determine the texture of the final filling, and which sort of potatoes I use depends on whether I want a filling that's more like mashed potatoes studded with crisp bits of sausage, onion, and potato (in which case, I use russets), or more like hash, with some mashed potato texure, but also bits of potato that are crusty outside with soft potato inside (in which case, I use medium-starch potatoes like red bliss or yukon gold).

About half the time, I'll add a beaten egg or two to the filling when it's finished cooking (this is also a good strategy if you're reheating leftover filling to make more tacos).

And last but not least, there's the salsa. Sometimes I make a tomatillo/avocado salsa, a'la Rick Bayless, where the piquant taste of the tomatillos blends with the buttery creaminess of the avocados. Sometimes I'll roast the tomatillos, garlic, and onion, which sweetens and mellows the flavor, and sometimes not, because I don't want to temper the acid of the tomatillos or the sharpness of the onion and garlic. And sometimes I want just the bright acid of a raw tomatillo salsa verde.

Anyhow, the Cliff's Notes version of all of this: it's all good....

Chorizo and Potato Tacos

Serves 4 (provided that you include side dishes like refritos.....)

Taco Filling
2 tbsp vegetable oil or Mexican-Style Lard(instructions are in the 5th paragraph down)--if you're using Chourico or Linguica. Mexican chorizo will provide plenty of fat on it's own.
1/4 lb of fresh Mexican Chorizo, or ground Chourico or Linguica
Ground chipotle, chile ancho, or cayanne to taste--if you're using Chourico or Linguica.
1 small white onion, peeled and chopped fine
1 1/2 lbs of potatoes, peeled and cut into 1/4 in dice
3 eggs, lightly beaten (optional)

Accompaniments
Corn tortillas, steamed or warmed on a griddle
Salsa or guacamole
1 small white onion, peeled, cut into slivers, and the slivers rinced under cold water

If you're using Chourico or Linguica, add the oil or lard to a large frying pan over medium-high heat. Add the sausage to the pan and break it up into bits. If you're using Mexican Chorizo, just add it to the pan and break it up into bits.

When the sausage is cooked and beginning to crisp at the edges, drain off any excess fat, leaving 2-3 tablespoons in the pan (you want enough left to thoroughly coat and flavor the potatoes). Add the onion and cook until it is soft and the sausage is crisp, about 3 minutes. If you're using Chourico or Linguica, add the chile powder and stir to combine.

Turn the heat down to medium. Add the potatoes to the pan and cover for 10 minutes. Remove the cover, turn the heat back to medium-high, and continue cooking the potatoes (stirring occasionally) until they are crisp on the outside. You can also mash some of the potatoes with a wooden spoon, if you prefer that texture.

When the potatoes are cooked through and have a crisp exterior, the filling is ready to eat, or you can add the eggs (if using). Stir until the eggs are cooked.

To serve, put a tablespoon or two of the filling into a tortilla and top with the salsa and onion.

Kitchens, new and old

2007-01-08T02:07:03Z

Kitchen Before

Back in October, I redid my kitchen. Why haven't I blogged about it before now? Well, remodeling war stories, like home movies and vacation snapshots, are most interesting to the participants..... But Ilva's call for kitchen posts over at Lucullian Delights has changed my mind.

When I started out, my 10 by 12 kitchen had the same white formica cabinets with nail-snapping oak grip bars, formica counters, and sheet vinyl flooring as every other condo, house, or apartment that was built or refurbished between the mid 80's and mid 90's. The package was completed with contractor-grade white appliances. No frills here. No window in the oven. Old school exposed coil burners. A fridge that only had wire shelves--no glass spill-proof shelves, no deli drawer, no wide shelves on the door. No shelves (or light) in the freezer. A noisy and inefficient dishwasher.

I probably spent 9 or 10 months thinking about what to do to the kitchen. The footprint was fine, so I wasn't going to move the plumbing or appliances. I could use more counter space and storage--my pots and plates and glassware and ceramics were spilling out everywhere--but at first, I thought about just refacing the cabinets, changing out the counters and floor, and replacing the appliances.

Then I started resarching and pricing things out, and I realized that for about twice the money I had planned for refacing (and not much more hassle), I could have all new cabinets that were bigger and better organized than the old ones, plus a new bamboo floor, new HiMacs counters, a new undermount sink and fancy faucet, new appliances, and a mosaic tile backsplash--labor and delivery included. Sold!

I bought all of the appliances in one shot back in March. A local appliance store was having a good deal on basic Frigidaire appliances. Since I wasn't looking for commercial-quality stuff, I went ahead and made the purchase. I'm stll getting used to the ceramic-top stove (which has meant that I have to give away my lovingly-seasoned cast iron griddle--bah!), but I love having a fridge with glass shelves, an oven with a door, and a dishwasher with a food grinder and an extra-hot cycle.

I ordered all of my cabinets and the floors back in June, and then it got too hot for me to want to do all of the demolition and prep work that the kitchen needed, so I procrastinated and procrastinated until it got cooler. By that time, the cabinet installers I had lined up were no longer installing in my area. Boo. But they gave me the name of a new installer, and I soon had installation dates lined up--plus (unlike my original installers), the new folks were full-service-contractors, so they could line up a plumber to change an in-the-way baseboard to a kickspace heater. Yay!

I put out a call to my cousin--he runs a carpenter's shop at his day job--and he came down to help me demo the kitchen and lay the new bamboo floor. The demolition and floor laying took a bit more than one day--a busy day, but the process was much simpler than I'd feared.

Then the cabinet guys arrived to assemble and install the cabinets. It was pretty amazing--in three days, they had the baseboard heater swapped out for the kickspace heater and all of the cabinets assembled and installed.

The day after the cabinets were installed, my counter guys came to measure for the countertops. And then I waited....

And waited.

And waited.

The two weeks that had been promised as the ETA of the new counters rolled into three and almost four. Thanksgiving was coming, and I was signed up to bake two pies and make a batch of creamed onions. Yipes....

And then, at the last minute, the counters were finished and installed! I don't think I've ever been happier than when those counters, and the sink and faucet, went in.

And that is pretty much where the kitchen stands now--awaiting the final touches--a bit of trim on the floor, and the installation of the glass mosaic backsplash.

The backsplash. Someday.....

But hey--at least I have plenty of storage, a working sink, and a freezer with a light.

Kitchen After

Popovers

2007-01-05T00:58:17Z

When I was 11 or 12, we went on a family vacation to Acadia National Park. Like most of our vacations, this was a camping trip, so most of the food was of the tasty-but-not-gourmet variety--stew, spaghetti and meat sauce, pancakes. We had lobster, of course, and made a royal mess as we wrenched the claws from the body, twisted the tails free, and nibbled along each tiny leg to squeeze out the morsels of sweet meat. But the best thing of all were the popovers--famous popovers, from the Jordan Pond House, a rambling, dim, shingle building with a wide and shady porch that overlooked the pond. They came piping hot in a napkin-lined basket, with crisp brown exteriors and custardy cavernous interiors made to hold pats of melting butter and ruby-like spoonfuls of strawberry jam. And almost as impressive as the popovers were the tall glasses of iced tea for my parents, and glasses of lemonade for my sisters and me, which came with tiny pitchers of sugar syrup for sweetening (something I now do for my own summer drinks).

But this isn't Acadia, and anyhow, the Jordan Pond House closes up in the wintertime. So when I decided that I wanted popovers this weekend, I had to make them myself.

Fine with me, acutally, since popovers are one of those impressive-seeming foods that are really dead simple--you can make the batter in your blender in under 5 minutes, and then all you have to do is wait for the oven to heat and for your popovers to bake--and to get out your butter and strawberry jam. The only thing I was missing was the lemonade, but since I had a cold, Theraflu made an acceptable substitute....

Popovers

If you're using a muffin tin (which I do), makes 8 popovers. Makes 6 if you're using a popover pan. You can reheat already baked popovers, but they are really best fresh from the oven.

2 large eggs
1 cup whole milk
1 cup unbleached all-purpose flour (5 ounces)
1/2 teaspoon table salt
1 tablespoon unsalted butter, melted
vegetable oil for the pan

Put the eggs and milk in a blender. Blend for 5 seconds, or until combined.

Add the flour, salt, and melted butter and blend until the batter is smooth. You'll probably have to scrape down the sides of the blender once or twice. Set the batter aside to rest.

Heat your oven to 450 degrees. Wipe the 8 outer cups of a muffin tin well with vegetable oil (don't use cooking spray here--it'll burn onto the pan). When the oven is hot, heat the muffin tin for 5 minutes.

Quickly fill the greased muffin cups 3/4 full of batter, then put the muffin tin into the oven. Bake--without opening the oven door--for 20 minutes. Turn down the heat to 350, and bake an additional 15-20 minutes, or until the popovers are deep golden brown all over.

Turn the finished popovers out of the pan and serve hot.

Holiday Baking

2007-01-01T15:45:00Z

The holidays are the one time each year that I will definately bake something.

Usually, I'm more of a cook than a baker--cooking tends to allow you more latitude than baking does--but every December, the lure of cookies and stollen draws me in (more on the stollen later). This year's cookies?

Lovely simple Spritz, and less-simple Pepparkakor (Swedish ginger thins). For once, I don't deviate from the recipes--cookies are persnickety things, and when I find a formula that works, I stick with it. For the spritz cookies, I like the Cook's Illustrated recipe, which is is quick to make up and surprisingly un-fussy.

The Pepparkakor, on the other hand, are fussy--you'll need to chill the dough, and a pastry cloth and rolling pin cover are essential for getting the cookies rolled very thin--but are worth the effort. I use a recipe from Epicurious, though sometimes I tweak this one by swapping out the ground cloves for ground cardamom.

When I'm done making cookies, I turn my attention to Stollen--the fruit-studded sweet bread from Dresden. The drill usually goes something like this:

I buy flour and Plugra and cardamom and raisins, and I order the good candied peel from The Baker's Catalogue. Then I look for the recipe and can't find it. I call my mom, who reads me the recipe over the phone. I write it down and make the stollen, and then lose the recipe, starting the whole cycle over again the next year.

This year, I broke the cycle by just buying a copy of the cookbook that has the recipe in it. Hopefully I won't lose an entire cookbook by next December.....

Unlike cookies, breads can usually stand some tweaking, and the stollen recipe is no exception. What follows are my refinements on a recipe from Best of German Cooking by Edda Meyer-Berkhout--

Dresden-Style Stollen

Makes 3 large loaves. You can also halve this recipe and make 3 smaller loaves, or two large ones. Note that a full recipe fills a large (not Artisan) Kitchen Aid mixer--a half recipe is a bit more manageable.

1 lb golden raisins (you can also substitute dried cranberries for some or all of the raisins--the red color is pretty)
1 cup candied orange and/or lemon peel, chopped
1 cup candied citron, chopped
3 tablespoons rum
3 tablespoons SAF Gold Label yeast (for high sugar or acid doughs) or 3 1/2 tbsp regular or rapid rise yeast
2 cups milk
1 lb unsalted butter, softened. You want this pliable, but not totally room-temp soft.
1 tsp salt
1 cup granulated sugar
1/2 tsp ground cardamom
1/2 tsp freshly grated nutmeg
1 tsp fresh grated lemon or orange zest(I prefer orange, but I use what's on hand)
8-9 cups flour
1 cup blanched almonds
1 tube marzipan (optional)
1/2 cup brown sugar (optional)
1 cup powdered sugar (optional)
1 stick butter, melted (optional)

Put the raisins/cranberries/candied peel/citron in a bowl and toss with the rum. Let sit 8-12 hours, or until the rum is absorbed by the fruit. You can also gently warm the rum and add the fruit, to speed the process along. Set the fruit aside.

Beat the butter, sugar, and salt together until well combined. Add the spices, grated zest, and yeast and beat until combined, then add the milk and beat until combined again. Add 4 cups of flour and mix until the flour is fully moistened. Let this mixture sit for 10 minutes.

Add enough of the additional flour to just form a soft dough. The exact amount will depend on how humid it is on the day you make your bread--it usually clocks in between 3 1/2 and 4 additional cups. Knead the dough for 6 minutes (this is where you really love your Kitchen Aid), until it becomes smooth. Add the soaked fruits and the almonds, and knead for an additional two minutes, until the fruits and nuts are thoroughly combined with the dough.

Set the dough in a greased bowl, covered, in a warm draft-free place for 2-5 hours, or until it is doubled in bulk (I leave mine in the oven with the light on). This is a sweet, heavy dough, so it has a really long rise time, especially if you use regular yeast.

When the dough is risen, turn it out onto a floured counter and divide it into three equal pieces. Gently punch a piece down--you want to redistribute the yeast and the CO2 from the first rise, not totally flatten the dough. If you're using marzipan, divide it into three pieces, and roll each piece into a log. Flatten the first piece of dough into an oval about 2 in thick, and put one of the marzipan logs in the center. Fold the dough over the marzipan, and shape it into an oval loaf. If you're not using marzipan, just make an oval loaf with the dough. Repeat until you have three loaves.

Place the shaped dough on sheet pans, and cover it with plastic wrap. Let rise until doubled, 1-2 hours. Meanwhile, preheat your oven to 300 degrees.

Uncover the risen loaves and bake them for 60-80 minutes--until the internal temperature is 190.

Cool the loaves on a wire rack.

If you really want to be indulgent, when the loaves are fully cooled, brush them generously with melted butter, then sift a mixture of the brown sugar and powdered sugar over the tops of them, fully coating each loaf. I skip this step; good stollen is just as tasty without the sugar coating.

I'll gladly pay you Tuesday....

2006-12-18T02:44:10Z

Wimpy is all wrong.

A good hamburger is a wonderful, wonderful thing, but not as wonderful as the very best french fries--crispy and brown, hot out of the fry-o-lator, sprinkled with salt. They have to be made of baking potatoes--sweet potato fries are good, but you can't attain the delectably fluffy interior, shielded by a casing of shatteringly crisp fried potato with a sweet potato...

Ah, french fries.

Can you tell I love them?

So I was saddened to find, when I started a new job in Kendall Square, that there was no place to get really good hand cut fries quickly or cheaply--I'd have to hoof it to the Galleria, where I could find cheap fries but not good ones, or get on the T and sacrifice my lunch hour. So until Friday night, I contented myself with the things that Kendall does have--splurgey seafood at Legal, fast cheap junkfood at the COOP food court and the mall food court, Mission-style burritos at Boca Grande, almost-upscale sandwiches and salads at Zigo and Au Bon Pain, college cafeteria-quality grub at Rebecca's Cafe, or falafel and shawarma at Acetuna. All of these options have their charms, depending on your mood, but none of them have truly superior fries.

The word was, though, that if I felt like trekking to Kenmore square, I could get my french fry fix, and a decent burger too. Now, Kenmore's too long a haul for lunch, but dinner's doable, if I'm willing to catch a later train home. And for the holy grail of french frydom, I'd be willing to take a later train.

So Friday night I left work and headed for UBurger, home of the rumored fries. Yeah, they have burgers, too. Pretty good burgers, considering that they are all cooked medium-well (lawsuits have made the world a sad place for those of us who think burgers should never be cooked more than medium, and preferably to medium-rare).

After threading my way through the construction site that is the Kenmore T stop, I emerged on the Beacon St side of the square. And there, next to Campus Camera, was UBurger. And french fries.

The decor is cheap/industrial--heavy on corrugated metal panels and blackboard paint. It's clean and bright, though, with a large open kitchen in the back, so you can see the grill and fry-o-lator folks at work.

The menu is simple--burgers (choose one of theirs, or add your own toppings, hot-dogs (grilled, like they should be--I am not a steamed or boiled dog girl), grilled chicken sandwiches, or salads. For sides, there are fries and onion rings (of the thin floury coating variety, as opposed to breadcrumbed or battered). And for true indulgence, milkshakes (ok, frappes) made with hard ice cream, syrup, and a splash of milk.

I wasn't quite ready for that much indulgence, so I went with a simple UBurger ($3.75ish)--Lettuce, tomato, pickle, special sauce (aka Russian Dressing), and added fries and a drink for an extra $3, bringing my total to around $7.

The burger was tasty--thicker than your average fast-food burger-puck, and more flavorful, on a nicely grilled bun. If only I could get one medium-rare and they'd use leaf lettuce instead of shreds (which wilt so fast on a hot burger...) it would give the old stalwarts like Bartley's and Bukowski's a run for their money.....

The fries though..... Now they are really really really good--cooked to order, so you get them hot, a deep and flavorful brown, and nicely salted. Way too good for ketchup. I think I may have to get a later train home tomorrow.