Clean the Pantry Salad

First things first: I have a wee bit of virtual housekeeping to take care of. If you look to the right of this post, you'll see a whole bunch of fun stuff, some of which could use a little explaining. As you might notice, Red Ramekin is now a featured publisher on Foodbuzz. Honestly, I have no idea a) how we became a "featured publisher," or b) what a "featured publisher" actually is. But it seems cool, and Foodbuzz itself is a pretty cool website. Think Facebook, but yummier. The site connects a whole bunch of foodies from around the world, and bloggers can submit recipes, photos, restaurant reviews, and blog posts to the site. You can "vote" for your favorite items to give them more "buzz" ... or something like that. If you want to "vote" for me, click the button!

Next, of course, is the Daring Bakers stuff, which I've already explained. If you want to see other Daring Bakers, though, click on the Daring Bakers Blogroll. Then comes the newest addition to the extraneous stuff: Food Blog Search. Food Blog Search is actually a really great search engine that runs through Google. You can search over 2000 blogs (Red Ramekin is one of them!) for recipes, ideas, or whatever. And to think...you thought Epicurious was nifty! So last year.

Way down below is the Foodie Blogroll, which is being continually updated with new food blogs. Tasty!

Ok, so now that the virtual housekeeping is out of the way, how about some real housekeeping? And by housekeeping, I of course mean pantry cleaning. Jonathan and I are moving in a few weeks, which has inspired me to go on a pantry-emptying rampage. I don't mean tossing things in the trash, either. We're talking about ways to make dinner out of that handful of lentils in the back of the cabinet, or how to bake a cake using a half-cup of blue cornmeal, a forgotten bag of dried apricots, and a baggie-full of anise seeds (all things that happen to be in the cabinet at this very moment).


I hate throwing away food, but I'm not psyched about transporting all of those dried grains and other foodstuffs to the new apartment, even if it is only a few miles away from 20 Ellery. As a result, we have officially entered the pantry cleaning days, during which I plan to use up as much stuff and purchase as little stuff as is humanly possible. This may be as close as I get to Top Chef, so I plan to enjoy the challenge.

In fact, I enjoyed the challenge very much the other night, when I came up with a surprisingly tasty kamut salad. Before I go into the joys of pronouncing the word "kamut," I will say that the nature of this challenge is such that it becomes harder with time. This salad benefited from a rather healthy variety of pantry-stuffs, including a jar of artichoke hearts, some rogue pine nuts, a chunk of feta, and a gaggle of capers. I'm not sure I want to think about what my options will be come May 20, but for now they aren't so bad.


But back to the kamut - pronounced kuh-MOOT. Kamut is an heirloom variety of wheat, characterized by having significantly larger grains (berries) and being higher in protein than traditional hard or soft wheat. We can discuss my bulk bin addiction at some other time, but for now suffice it say that we have lots of baggies with lots of nearly indistinguishable whole grains to keep us occupied for a while. One of these was full of whole kamut grains, so I decided to give them a soak and make something with them.

I'm pretty proud of myself for having used up so many ingredients, and for making something that was so tasty, to boot. The pine nuts in this salad were an unenthusiastic add-in, but were actually the perfect savory touch to this slightly acid-heavy salad. The roasted tomatoes and artichoke hearts added some great color, texture, and vegetable-ness to the mix, and the feta tied it all together. To top it all off, there was a suspicious-looking half onion hanging out in the fridge, so I diced that up, roasted it with the tomatoes, and tossed it in for some flavor. And what else? The capers were...capers. No complaints on that front. A little vinegar, olive oil, and seasoning, and this clean-the-pantry salad was born.


I'll include a (loose) recipe for the salad here, but the spirit of the dish is really using things that are taking up space in the cupboard. To follow this recipe, then, you may actually have to not follow it all....it's pretty meta.

A note about kamut, and other non-polished whole grains: these are not the things of 30-minute meals. They require a leisurely soak (I soaked the kamut for about 24 hours), and then a leisurely simmer (1 1/2 - 2 hours). I cooked the kamut in an excess of liquid so that I could let it simmer all afternoon without my having to worry about my liquid evaporating. Even after all of that cooking though, the grains still had a nice bite to them. I'm pretty sure you could cook them forever and they'd still be "al dente." But just think of all of the fiber you'll be eating! So here's my loose recipe. Use it for ideas or inspiration, or, if you aren't planning a move in the next month, use it to make this tasty salad.

Clean the Pantry Kamut Salad

1 c. kamut grains, soaked for a day
about 1 pint cherry tomatoes, halved
half a medium onion, diced
3 cloves garlic, smashed with the back of a knife
handful of capers
1 small jar of artichoke hearts (drained and rinsed if they are "marinated")
large handful of toasted pine nuts
small chunk of feta cheese, crumbled
about 2 tbs. olive oil
splash of balsamic vinegar
generous salt, pepper, and seasonings
additional olive oil, salt, and pepper for roasting onion and tomatoes

Directions:
Soak kamut for a long, long time. Once soaked, cook kamut for a long, long time, in about 6 c. of salted water or broth. After about 1 1/2 - 2 hours, kamut should be toothsome, but not hard. Drain kamut and remove to a large bowl. Meanwhile, roast the tomatoes, onion, and garlic. Drizzle with olive oil, salt, and pepper, and roast or broil until tomatoes and garlic are just starting to blister, about 10 minutes under the broiler. Add vegetables to the kamut, and then add the artichokes, capers, pine nuts, and feta. Stir to combine, and then season with oil, vinegar, salt, pepper, and spices to taste.

Hot Chick Pizza

I know, I know...it's been a slow blog month for me. Just when i thought I'd have all the free time in the world, little things started popping up - apartment searching, catch-up schoolwork, weekend trips - that have been keeping my posting at bay.

Luckily I've still had ample time to cook, and in addition to some new sweet baking experiments (recipes coming soon, I hope!), I've been playing around with bread doughs, too. And I'm not just talking about whole wheat pitas, either. I do love my whole wheat pitas, and I especially love the versatility of the dough, but my last creation took flatbread to a new level.

For one, I used a special secret ingredient in the dough. More importantly, though, I created my first original yeasted dough recipe. Most of the chemically-leavened recipes on this site are my original recipes, and I've gotten pretty comfortable baking on the fly, without a recipe, recording measurements as I go. Yeast, though, has always been a tricky thing, and I've mostly stuck with other people's guidelines when it comes to making pizza, pita, or bread.

Ever since the last pita episode, though, I've been looking for a good day to make more flatbread. The idea of a Mediterranean pizza seemed to be stuck in my head, and I wondered if I could incorporate some of that inspiration into the dough itself, and not just the toppings on the bread. Thus my garbanzo dough was created. I was hoping to get a real chick pea flavor in my dough with the addition of garbanzo flour.

Honestly, I can't say that I'd be able to pinpoint garbanzo as the distinctive flavor of this dough, but it really was much more flavorful than ordinary dough. It turned out to be the perfect backdrop for a host of different toppings, including spinach, red onion, roasted peppers, herbs, and feta.

I made the dough with a sponge in the hopes of it imparting a certain richness in flavor that straight doughs often lack. Although it sounds complicated, a sponge is like a pre-dough made with all of the liquid, part of the flour, and the yeast of the recipe, which allows the yeast to develop a bit before the addition of more flour and other flavoring agents (salt, oil, etc.). The sponge entails an extra rising period, but this recipe is pretty flexible - I made it on a day when I was in and out of the kitchen, and all of the rising times are approximate. I've said it before and I'll say it again: it's pretty hard to mess up a flatbread dough.


The dough mixed and rose beautifully, and was particularly easy to roll out for thin, almost cracker-like pizza crusts. A combination of garbanzo, white whole wheat, and whole wheat flours resulted in a lower gluten content and thus a slightly less elastic dough than a traditional wheat dough. After a few minutes on the pizza stone, the crusts were golden, crunchy, and slightly bubbly around the edges, but the interior was thin and a bit chewy.

Given that legumes in general are about the healthiest thing one can consume, and that they lend a distinctly savory and pleasant flavor to this dough, its appeal is two-fold. I made a bunch of dough, used half for dinner on Friday, and then saved the rest in the refrigerator for lunch on Sunday. Yes, the secret is out, I'm so not doing the whole matzah thing. The name "hot chick pizza," though, was created during the car ride back from a Passover seder...

We took the dough in a whole bunch of directions, so it wasn't just plain old pizza, either. We made several smallish thin-crust breads, some with spinach and ricotta, and some with peppers, onions, and pine nuts. We also did a "deep-dish" risen-crust pie with sausage and mozzarella (guess who ate that one?). We tried out a wee calzone with ricotta, tomatoes, and spinach, and even made a little garbanzo griddle cake that Jonathan ate with scrambled eggs for breakfast.

Next time, I think I'll make a huge batch of this dough, and stash some in the freezer so that when I'm struck by a garbanzo griddle cake craving (they happen to the best of us), I'll be totally prepared. Seriously, though, this dough is awesome. Try it!

Whole Wheat Garbanzo Dough (for Chick Pizza)

Sponge:
1 c. garbanzo flour
1 c. white whole wheat flour
1 tbs. instant yeast
1 tsp. sugar
1 3/4 c. warm water

Dough:
All of sponge
2 1/2 - 3 1/2 c. whole wheat bread flour
2 tsp. salt
2 tbs. olive oil

Directions:
Prepare sponge: mix dry ingredients in a large bowl, and add warm water. Stir for a few minutes, until thoroughly combined. Sponge with be very wet. Let sponge sit, covered, for about 45 minutes, until bubbly. Add salt and oil, and then start adding additional flour. Stir in about 2 c. of flour, adding more until dough is too stiff to stir with a wooden spoon. Turn out the dough and begin kneading, continuing to add flour until it is just tacky and smooth. Return dough to bowl and cover with oiled plastic wrap and a dish towel. Let rise until about doubled in bulk, 1 1/2-2 hours. Punch down dough and either roll out for pizzas or place in a sealed plastic bag and store in the refrigerator until ready to use. Makes enough dough for about 6 smallish, thin-crusted pizzas.

Farro Soup (Book Review)

A while ago, Mia picked up a copy of Deborah Madison's "Vegetable Soups." It's a beautiful book, with lots of vibrant, colorful pictures, and lots of recipes for vegetable soups. I like soup a lot, and I especially like making vegetable soups, because they're easy, they look good, and they're delicious. They require no particular skills, and they're basically impossible to mess up. Plus, I like chopping vegetables, which is usually required in large quantity.

The first soup that we chose to make from the book (and which we have re-made several times) is the summer version of the farro soup. We had just bought some farro in California for half the price that Whole Foods in Cambridge charges, so we were eager to make something with farro. In addition, the winter version of farro soup in the book is basically the same as the summer version sans tomatoes - why leave out the tomatoes when you can add them?

As in all of the vegetable soups I have made, you begin this one by chopping up an onion, carrots, and celery and sauteing them in olive oil. Then you add tomato paste and fry it for a little while. Next comes tomatoes, then water and pre-soaked farro. At the very end, you add a can of chickpeas. Deborah insists that, unless the chickpeas are organic, you should dispose of the liquid, but I consider that to be, if not pretentiously green, at least overly cautious. Then again, I don't wash my produce carefully, and I strongly prefer charcoal grills, so maybe I'm just asking for trouble.

As usual with soup, the most important thing is to make sure there is enough salt in it. Luckily, if there isn't enough salt, the solution is quick and easy - add more. The same is true with other seasonings. Mark Bittman had a recent post that suggests that the timing of salt addition is not nearly as important as people think, and I trust Mark Bittman, so I don't worry too much about under-salting the soup at first.

As you can see from the pictures, the tomatoes give the broth a nice red color, and the various vegetables give lots of pleasing contrast. The soup is best served warm, of course, but when we make a gallon of it, Mia and I usually can't resist taking it out of the fridge and gorging on it cold right out of the used yogurt containers that serve as our Tupperware. It never lasts very long.

Back in Action

Wow - it has been so long since the last Red Ramekin post! I didn't realize just how long it had been until I signed into Blogger to check up on my little baby blog...it has been neglected for the past three weeks, and I am very sorry about it. I won't let it happen again, I promise.

These past few weeks were pretty busy for me, but now I'm one huge step closer to graduation and I should have plenty of time to give Red Ramekin the love it deserves. On a related note, Jonathan and I are currently spring breaking, northern California style. Today it was 70 degrees outside, and in general the food here is so good it makes me wonder why I ever decided to commit to two more years of living in Boston. As soon as I stepped off the plane today, I was craving fruit and veggies and everything else that this Massachusetts weather has been keeping from me. Granny smith apples and root vegetables are great and all....but sometimes you just want some berries. And not those crunchy, vaguely berry-flavored specimens that cost $8 per pint.

Our first stop after the San Francisco airport was the Ferry Building, which on Tuesdays and Saturdays is bustling with a huge farmers' market. Today it was a bit quieter, but still lively; there was no farmers' market, but we had lunch at a little seafood place that really hit the spot. Super-fresh shrimp, crab, chowder, and salad was perfect post-flight nourishment.

We'll be heading back on Tuesday, though, because the farmers' market at the Ferry Building is not something foodies can afford to miss. I went once before, in December, and am anticipating an even more bountiful selection of fruits, vegetables, cheeses, and other specialty comestibles. It's really all about the samples, though. Last time I sampled everything from pummelos to persimmons, so I'm looking forward to some new things this time around, too.

But back to the kitchen...

I thought I'd share a little entertaining tip that is becoming one of my favorite ways to play hostess. Some might call it half-assing, but that's OK. Half-assing is better than full-assing, right? In any case, the tip is: make half and procure half. Or, as it happened a few nights ago, make one really fantastic thing, and supplement it with some other, prepared things.

The really fantastic thing was homemade sushi, and the prepared thing was Whole Foods sausages that we grilled at home. OK, I know - not the most, um, cohesive meal. But it wasn't my fault - I was in charge of the sushi, and left the guests to pick out something else to supplement it. A few months ago we tried the same technique, but purchased the sushi and prepared some miso-soba noodle soup.

The make half procure half route is not just about half-assing though. In our case, it's about being able to entertain for a larger crowd and in a more relaxed setting. The kitchen and our cookware probably wouldn't be able to accommodate cooking a full meal for 8 people, but if you procure, instead of prepare, half of your food, dinner for 7 or 8 becomes completely possible.

On Friday night, we had a few people over and started rolling away. The sushi was such a huge hit that Jonathan and I decided to make it again this evening, just for ourselves. This way, we could stuff ourselves with 5 times as much sushi without having to expend any more time or effort actually preparing it (sushi, as it turns out, is a rather time-intensive affair). Tuna is the only sushi-quality fish we can get our seaweed-flecked hands on, so we had tuna, cooked shrimp, tofu, cucumber, carrot, and scallions in our maki.

I've made sushi in the past, but never with as much success as we had these past two times. We used short-grain brown rice instead of regular sushi rice, but it was fantastic sprinkled with some seasoned rice vinegar after it had finished cooking. I think the key to professional-looking rolls is to use very little rice. I hate maki with too much rice - it gets gummy and messy and hides the flavors of whatever it is that's rolled up in the middle. I'm not including a recipe here, but take a look to get an idea of how we roll:

The whole set-up: rice, vegetables, tofu, tuna, shrimp, nori, bamboo mat...and beer


See? Not much rice - only half of the nori sheet is covered.


Don't skimp, but don't over-stuff, either. Here is tuna with scallions and cucumber:


And the rolling. The key is to squeeze that baby tightly so everything is nice and compact when you go to slice.


Speaking of which:


And here it is, the finished product. These are tuna rolls and shrimp rolls.


This time around I think our rice was on the bland side; I couldn't find the right rice vinegar, and the one that we used was seasoned, but apparently not seasoned enough. That was mostly remedied by an enthusiastic approach to soy sauce and wasabi dunking. And scallions. Scallions make everything delicious. All in all, a fun little project and a really yummy meal. This is definitely not the thing to make when you want something quick, but now that all of this free time has reappeared in my life, I won't be wanting anything "quick" for quite awhile. Is there any better way to spend one's time than rolling maki?

One final tip for anyone looking to make vegetarian sushi (which, this time around, was actually my favorite): Use the tofu that comes in a cardboard box (ours was Mori-nu) - not the Nasoya stuff in the refrigerator case. The vacuum-packed variety is far superior in both taste and texture. To prepare the tofu, slice into thin rectangles, lightly oil a hot skillet, and let the tofu brown on both sides, being careful not to let it break when you flip it. Slice into strips and roll it up with some carrot, scallion, cucumber...you get the idea. For some added flavor, I drizzled a miso/rice vinegar/soy sauce dressing over the maki before rolling it up. Yum! Nothing (especially not thesis-writing) beats some time well-spent in the kitchen.

More Rice-less Risotto: Farrotto with Rosemary-Scented Squash and Balsamic-Glazed Cipolline Onions

Wow, that was a mouthful. I mentioned a few posts ago that we were fortunate enough to host a small dinner gathering last week in Jonathan's apartment. There were just four of us: Jonathan and I and two lovely guests, but it was certainly occasion enough to spend a little time preparing the menu, do some rare day-ahead planning, and even purchase a novelty item or two (this time it was goat's milk, with which we made cardamom ice cream).

Planning for the dinner reminded me how much I love, well, planning for things like this. I can spend hours dreamily shuffling through menu ideas in my mind, formulating little mental shopping lists, and searching for inspiration in cookbooks and on the blogosphere. So that's exactly what I did.

My only constraint was that this was to be a vegetarian meal, which really isn't much of a constraint for me, since I'm happy to cook and eat vegetarian-ly much of the time. In planning the menu, I decided pretty early on in the game that the protein of the meal was going to be a frittata. I can't say enough about the frittata. It really is one of the most versatile dishes in my repertoire, and it can be classy, casual, chock full of fancy stuff, chock full of crap you found in the back of your fridge, brunch, lunch, dinner, 2am snack...so yes, it is versatile. Oh yeah, it also is really yummy.

I also knew I wanted a salad. I mean come on, that's pretty basic. But I needed something else, too. Something carb-y, something filling but not too heavy, something novel and fancy but not too involved. I was toying with the idea of making a panade, which is essentially a savory bread pudding that uses stock for the liquid and lots of cheese and vegetables. It seemed too heavy, though. I discovered it in my brand new Zuni Cafe cookbook, which, while incredible, suffers from the restaurant cookbook fate of having lots of recipes that, frankly, will never make an appearance in my kitchen.

Flipping through the rest of the book, though, I saw a recipe for farrotto - a risotto-like dish made with Italian farro instead of rice. Having recently discovered farro (a whole grain similar to spelt), Jonathan and I are rather obsessed with it. Sure, it's a "whole grain," but it has a wonderful, light, wheaty flavor and al dente texture that make it much more pleasant than, say, wheat berries. Not that I don't like wheat berries.

That glimpse of the title of the recipe was all the inspiration I needed. The Zuni recipe calls for some herbs and other ingredients, but I just took the farrotto idea and ran with it. Right to Whole Foods, where I picked up some fresh rosemary, butternut squash, and cute little cipolline onions. And thus this long-winded recipe was born.

Some notes on the recipe: I opted for red wine instead of the traditional white wine in this recipe, because I thought the red would stand up to the strong flavors of the dish: rosemary, vinegar, squash. I also made this a "rosemary-scented" recipe because I really don't like the texture of rosemary in my food. I like just a hint of the pine-y taste, so I infused a sprig or two in some olive oil and coated the squash in it before roasting. And about that roasting - it seems time consuming, but it really makes for outstanding and subtle flavors. This can easily be done a day in advance, as can braising the onions. I used an Epicurious recipe as a guideline for braising the onions, so I won't include that step here. My version went a little like this, though: boil and peel the onions, saute them (whole) in some oil, add vinegar, wine, and stock, and simmer until soft and sauce has reduced. Finally, save some of the onion-braising sauce to drizzle over the farrotto. Yum.

Farrotto with Rosemary-Scented Squash and Balsamic-Glazed Cipolline Onions

1 c. uncooked farro
2 c. butternut squash, in very small dice
2 sprigs fresh rosemary
1/4 c. + 1 tbs. olive oil
1 tsp. butter
4-5 garlic cloves
3 shallots or 1 small onion
1/2 c. red wine
3-4 c. vegetable or light chicken stock
salt and pepper, to taste
a few tablespoons of grated cheese (I used goat cheese and parmesan)
balsamic-glazed cipolline onions

Infuse olive oil and roast squash: heat 1/4 c. oil in a small skillet and add a sprig or two of rosemary and 2 lightly crushed (but still whole) garlic cloves. Oil shouldn't smoke, but should just barely bubble around the edges. Swirl pan and remove from heat. Set aside to cool. Meanwhile, dice squash into small cubes and preheat oven to 400 degrees. When oil has cooled, drizzle it over the squash. Add salt and pepper and roast until tender, about 25 min. Set aside or refrigerate.
Make farrotto: Finely chop garlic and onion/shallots. Set stock over low heat to simmer - it must be hot when you add it to your farrotto. Heat remaining oil and butter in a heavy-bottomed pan and saute until soft, but not browned. Season with salt and pepper. Add farro and stir to coat in the oil. After a minute or two, add the wine, stirring, until almost absorbed. At this point, continue making the farrotto like any risotto: add ladlefuls of hot stock and stir until almost absorbed. The farro takes about 20-25 minutes to reach the al dente stage. Just before it's finished cooking, add the squash and a handful or two of cheese. Stir until completely heated through and combined. Serve immediately, and top each dish with a cipolline onion and a drizzle of balsamic glaze. Revel in the praise of your guests.

Yes, I know, it seems long. It really isn't so hard though - I was preparing it after a glass and a half of wine (trust me, this is not trivial) and it came out just beautifully. It really is best right off of the stove, when it is still a bit soupy and the broth is thick and starchy, but it makes great leftovers, too. Just reheat with a bit more stock.

And in case you were wondering what the whole menu was:

Butter lettuce, fennel, and watercress salad with blood oranges and kalamata olives
Farrotto (duh)
Wild mushroom and leek frittata with goat cheese and pan-roasted cherry tomatoes
Goat's milk cardamom ice cream with sugar-crusted almonds
Almond and anise biscotti

We're Back, with Meatballs

First things first: it's been an embarrassingly long time since my last post. But, just when I was starting to get really annoyed that things like exams and studying were taking up my precious maniacal blogging time, I realized that I was done with all of that. At least for a few days. Seven semesters down, one to go. Then it's going to be maniacal blogging time whenever I want it to be!

That said, you'll be happy to know that the last few weeks weren't entirely devoted to studying. We took some breaks to make some rather delicious meals, and even hosted a wee dinner gathering on Monday evening. More on that later.

For now, I want to make up for my recent blogligence with a wonderfully hearty and delicious meatball stew. I've never been much of a traditional Italian meatball person, but I've recently become interested in the meatball-like foods of other Mediterranean regions. Interestingly enough, almost every culture has some version of the meatball: kibbe, kofta, albondigas....all with names significantly more appealing than "meatball."

My meatball dish is Mediterranean-ish in terms of flavor, but its real roots are my mother's recipe for sweet and sour meatballs, a dish she'd make once in a while using ground turkey instead of beef. In some sense I hate to say that they were delicious, because the two main ingredients in the "sweet and sour" part of the meatballs were ginger ale and ketchup. I know, it sounds....not delicious. But trust me, it was. Unfortunately, I wouldn't be caught dead cooking with ginger ale and ketchup, so I've updated, improvised, and yuppified the recipe a bit. Ok, a lot. It's still turkey, still sweet and sour, and instead of being served over white rice, this version was accompanied by some quinoa. Brown rice or cous cous would also work very well. Also, I thought about calling this dish "Meatballs Agrodulce." Too much? I thought so, too.


About the recipe: it seems long, but let's face it - every meatball recipe involves the same basic steps. I think it helps to chill the meat mixture before rolling it into balls, but proceed as time permits. I call for "cooked grain" in the meat mixture, which could be anything from pre-soaked bulgur to cooked brown rice to plain old bread crumbs. The grain helps to add some substance and soak up some of the liquid from the meat and onion. Finally, it's important to really caramelize the onions for the sauce. Doing so makes them nice and sweet, and this is sweet and sour meatball stew, after all. To get the sour, I use balsamic vinegar, which you should add according to your tastes. Oh, and did I mention that this recipe is absolutely perfect on a chilly winter night?


Here's the recipe; be grateful that you can get all of the deliciousness of sweet and sour meatballs without all of that ginger ale.

Sweet and Sour Turkey Meatballs, Yuppy Style

For the meatballs:
1 lb. ground turkey
1 egg
1/4 c. cooked grain, bulgur, or breadcrumbs
1/2 onion, diced (as small as you can!)
2 cloves garlic, pressed
5-6 prunes, soaked and chopped
1/2 tsp. cinnamon
1/4 tsp. paprika
1/2 tsp. cumin
pinch nutmeg
1/2 tsp. all-purpose or Italian seasoning
1/2-1 tsp. salt
pepper to taste

Soak prunes (there are more prunes in the sauce, so soak those, too) in hot water for about 30min., until plump and soft, and then chop. Mix all ingredients thoroughly - don't be afraid to use your hands! If you have time, set aside to chill for a few hours. Preheat oven to 375 degrees. Form meat mixture into 1-in. diameter balls, wetting your hands to avoid sticking. Place meatballs on a lightly greased and foiled baking sheet and bake for 15-20 min., until starting to brown and completely cooked through.

For the sauce:
1 tbs. olive oil
1 1/2 onions, sliced
2 garlic cloves, pressed
1 large can chopped tomatoes, with about half of the juice
10 prunes, chopped
1 carrot, diced
3 tbs. (or to taste) balsamic vinegar
Seasonings to taste: cinnamon, paprika, ground ginger, cumin, turmeric, salt, and pepper
cooked meatballs

Heat olive oil in a pot, and then add onions. Caramelize the onions. This should take about 15 min. of cooking. Watch the onions, stirring occasionally, to make sure that they are browning but not burning. Once they are nicely browned, add garlic, and saute for a minute or so. Season with salt, pepper, and spices. Add carrot and cook until slightly softened. Add prunes, and then add tomatoes with some juice. Season with balsamic vinegar and adjust the spices. Cook until thickened, and then add the meatballs. Cook for a few minutes more to heat the meatballs and reduce the sauce to your liking. Serve over rice, brown rice, quinoa, or cous cous.

Mastering the Art of Eggplant: Grilled Eggplant and Zucchini Lasagna

I have always been wary of eggplants. In theory they are good; when cooked well they have a rich and smoky flavor that soaks up yummy aromas like garlic and olive oil. In practice, though, eggplants have caused me a lot of grief. I've tried roasting, but with dry and disappointing results. Frying isn't really my thing. I've used the trick of roasting the entire eggplant in the oven, but, while tasty, the finished product is a heap of mushy nightshade, suitable only for baba ganoush or another similar dish (not that I have a problem with baba ganoush).

Last night, though, I decided to tackle the infamous eggplant. My gameplan: cook it not once, but twice. If I couldn't get it soft and moist enough with one method, the second would surely do the trick. I was inspired to create this grilled and admittedly pseudo lasagna by the Griddler, a Cuisinart appliance that looks like a George Foreman grill on steroids. You can open the device to a 180-degree angle, allowing for a fairly large and grill-like cooking surface. My idea was to grill slices of eggplant and zucchini, and layer them with ricotta, tomatoes, and spinach. Thus the grilled lasagna was born.

I started the dish by marinating the vegetables for a few hours in some oil, vinegar, and garlic. I then grilled them, making sure they got golden brown and soft. The zucchini was pretty self-explanatory, but the trick with the eggplant was to flip each slice several times, brushing them with leftover marinade to prevent them from getting too dry.

Once grilled, the eggplant were still a little tough on the inside, but the baking completely cured that problem. The finished lasagna, though a bit watery (due to a lack of carbohydrate, I suspect), was flavorful and quite tasty - and even tastier the next day. The picture above is of a day-old piece, which sliced nicely. As you can see below, though, the finished product didn't hold up to a fork quite as well as a traditional lasagna might.


In any case, this lasagna is chock-full of vegetables and is perfect with pasta or a thick slice of bakery bread. It would make a terrific sandwich, too - similar in structure to traditional eggplant parm, but without giant globs of cheese and greasy pools of oil left on your plate. A few tips: baby spinach obviates the need for chopping, which is always a plus. I always have success with small eggplants, like the Italian or baby varieties. Finally, splurge for the whole, peeled San Marzano tomatoes (sold at Whole Foods for $2.89 per can). They are unusually delicious, and big, juicy chunks of them add great texture to this dish (see below).

Grilled Eggplant and Zucchini Lasagna

2 large zucchinis
2 small (Italian) eggplants
5-6 c. loosely packed baby spinach leaves
1 small onion, chopped
3 garlic cloves, minced
1 large can whole, peeled San Marzano tomatoes, roughly chopped
1 1/2-2 c. fat-free ricotta (or use part-skim or whole)
1 tbs. olive oil
oregano, basil, salt, and pepper to taste
parmesan, for sprinkling
mozzarella, for sprinkling
1/2-3/4 c. marinade for vegetables (mix olive oil, balsamic vinegar, Italian seasonings, salt, pepper, garlic, and lemon juice according to your preference)

Directions:
Prepare Vegetables:
Slice zucchini and eggplant lengthwise into thin slices; salt and pepper them.
Pour marinade over vegetables, and let sit for about 2 hours.
Heat a grill or grill pan, and grill vegetables, allowing them to get brown and soft.
For eggplant, flip several times, brushing with marinade with each flip.
Prepare Sauce:
Heat oil in a medium saucepan and add onions and garlic.
Season and saute until soft.
Add spinach and continue to cook until wilted and water has evaporated.
Add chopped tomatoes and cheese, stirring and cooking until combined.
Adjust seasonings and remove from heat.
Assemble and Bake Lasagna:
Spread a few tablespoons of sauce in the bottom of a small rectangular or circular glass dish.
Begin layering vegetables, placing a layer of eggplant, then more sauce, then a layer of zucchini, and so on until vegetables and sauce are used up.
Top final layer with mozzarella and parmesan, and bake at 350 degrees for 30-4o minutes. If top is browning too quickly, cover with foil.
Finish under the broiler for about 3 minutes, until cheese is browned and bubbly.
Lasagna is best served the next day, as the chilling helps it set nicely.

Leeky Lemon Risotto

Risotto is one of those dishes that I always wanted to try, but never had an excuse to make. It is just rich enough (rice, butter, cheese) and time-consuming enough (so much stirring!), that I would always reserve it for a special occasion. But alas, when any such occasion arose, I never thought of it. My tale is one of culinary opportunities squandered...

Until now. Browsing a few new cookbooks, I discovered a couple of different recipes for risotto. Not just any risotto, though: barley risotto. Instead of using arborio rice, these recipes called for barley, which satisfies my requirement of eating lots of delicious whole grains. Mmmmm, whole grains!

So, I put an end to the flip-flopping that would often occur in the rice and grain aisle of Whole Foods, and hit the bulk bins for some barley. Tonight, we were going to have risotto.

The risotto I made was inspired by a few different recipes; a couple for barley risotto, and one for regular risotto. I wanted something full of flavor and with a little vegetable to boot, and that is how Leeky Lemon Risotto was born. The risotto came out beautifully, and the barley was perfect. It has more character than arborio, but the flavor and toothsomeness of it fit well with the other flavors in the dish. Hot out of the pan, it was filling, creamy, and rich - without actually being that creamy or rich. We had it with swordfish, which was a lovely complement, but it could also be a meal in itself, especially if you add some chopped chicken or shrimp.

A few notes on making the risotto: Barley is a whole grain, and takes a bit more time than regular arborio rice to cook. Ours took about 40 minutes, and yes, almost constant stirring and checking is necessary during this time. Like arborio, though, barley becomes very starchy when cooked, which lends this dish the creaminess found in traditional risottos. Although I haven't tried making risotto with brown rice or other grains, I would guess that barley is closest to the real deal, at least in terms of texture. The great thing about any risotto is that you can add just about anything you want (or whatever you happen to have in the fridge). Herbs are especially easy to substitute. We used fresh tarragon in our risotto, but thyme, chervil, parsley, or basil would also be delicious. Here is my recipe:

Leeky Lemon Risotto

4-6 c. chicken stock
1/2 c. white wine
1 c. pearled barley
1 large leek (white part only), chopped
2 shallots, minced
1 clove garlic, minced
2 tbs. olive oil
1 tsp. butter
1-2 tbs. lemon juice
grated zest of 1 lemon
1-2 tbs. chopped fresh herbs
2/3 c. frozen peas
salt and pepper, to taste

Heat oil and butter in a medium-large saucepan. Add shallot, garlic, and leeks, and saute until softened, about 5 minutes. Season with salt and pepper. Meanwhile, heat stock in a pot and keep at a gentle simmer.
Add barley to saucepan, stirring to coat with oil, and saute for another 2-3 minutes, until barley is shiny.
Add white wine, stirring until almost completely absorbed.
Now the fun part: start adding hot stock to the barley. Add by the ladle-ful, stirring to incorporate. When stock has almost been absorbed, add another ladle-ful. Repeat until barley is just about cooked. Barley should be tender, but not completely mushy. This process should take about 30-40 minutes. Patience.
When barley is just about cooked through, add frozen peas, stirring until they are heated through.
Finally, add your seasonings: lemon juice, zest, herbs, and a dash more salt and pepper. If you want a slightly richer risotto, stir in some butter, a splash of cream, or some grated parmesan cheese. Serve immediately.

Home-Made Ravioli

Last weekend, Mia and I house-sat for her parents, so we had a large kitchen and a lot of time on our hands. She suggested, and I readily agreed, that we make our own ravioli. I've always been curious about fresh pasta, and fresh ravioli in particular - what is pasta made from? How do you turn pasta dough into ravioli? Why is it so delicious? Whenever I claim that pasta is made from wheat, I am corrected because it's actually made from semolina. But as it turns out, semolina is actually just a type of wheat. It is the inner, starchy endosperm of durum wheat. According to the package, semolina contains an unusually large amount of gluten, which is why you can stretch it and shape it so much without its breaking up.

Satisfied with that, we moved on to the production process. Mia put the dough together (a cup of semolina, a cup of whole wheat flour, and three eggs; next time we might try a pinch of salt and a splash of olive oil) and kneaded it. Next came the fun part: rolling. Pasta is usually made with a pasta machine, which does all the dirty work for you by mechanically or electrically rolling the dough into long, lovely, paper-thin sheets. Lacking such a device, Mia rolled it out by hand with a rolling pin, which, in addition to serving as her upper-body strength training for the week, produced charmingly (?) and irregularly shaped pieces of dough. The sheets were then cut into ravioli-sized squares.


We prepared three fillings - ground lamb with mint, buttercup squash with ricotta, and mushrooms and walnuts with sage, sherry, and goat cheese. We filled them - a dollop of filling in the middle, wet the edge of the pasta dough with water, and fold it over and push the ends together until they stick. Then we cooked them, 4-5 minutes in boiling water.

The result was delicious. The pasta itself was tasty, chewy, and fresh. The ground lamb wasn't much of a success, but the other two fillings were superb. Mia's favorite was the squash (she's obsessed with squash), and my favorite was the mushroom-walnut - savory, earthy, and nutty. Overall a success, if rather labor-intensive. Next time we'll tweak the dough. Or make pizza instead.

Stew's On, Too

Just about as soon as I finished singing the praises of hearty soups, another recipe idea popped into my head - this one was a stew. If soup is the perfect thing to warm you up on a chilly fall night, then there is simply no word to describe the ecstasies of stew. Like soup, but heartier, chunkier, and unabashed in its ability to showcase the variety of tastes and textures it contains.

The stew we came up with tonight featured chicken, beans, and white yams - a variety I had never tried before, but which proved to be quite delicious. It was a Friday night of cooking and experimenting; we were working on a few new, more complicated recipes, and the stew was our quick and easy dinner. It also turned out to be the star of the evening, as it were. This recipe was inspired by a dish I had in Argentina, which consisted of brown lentils, stew meat, bacon, and batatas - a South American sweet potato varietal. Anyone who knows me well knows that this is not my typical dish. I'm not exactly a "bacon" kind of girl. So, while this dish was tasty enough to inspire this recipe, most will not be surprised to find that I use the term "inspire" quite loosely here. No bacon. Sorry.

As it turns out, this dish is really not at all like the lentil stew I ate in South America, but it is indeed delicious. I used a host of canned ingredients, but if you are feeling inspired, you can do everything fresh (though it is largely unnecessary, in my opinion). I do maintain, however, that roasting the pepper and yam before adding them to the stew is essential; it provides a smoky, deep flavor that can't be achieved by sauteing. The most time-consuming step is boiling the chicken, which we did in a separate pot of water instead of in the stew base itself. I chose this method so that I could boil the chicken breast skin-on and bone-in, and so that I could shred the chicken before adding it to the stew. I prefer the texture of the shredded chicken to big chunks of chicken, and I think it makes for moister, more tender meat. The added bonus, of course, is the big Tupperware of homemade chicken soup now sitting in the freezer; instead of a lonely chicken-only boil, we added some carrots, parsnips, celery, onion, and parsley to the water. We also added a few cupfuls of this stock to the stew, which gave it a lovely rich flavor.

If we hadn't been making a million other things this evening, we most certainly would have whipped up a batch of homemade skillet cornbread to accompany the stew. The two would make such a perfect match that we may just pull out the old skillet tomorrow to make a batch to go with the leftovers (which are abundant). Rice or corn tortillas would also be nice on the side. Here's the recipe:

Roasted Sweet Potato and Chicken Stew

1 whole bone-in, skin-on chicken breast
1 large white yam, garnet yam, or sweet potato
1 15-oz. can pinto beans (undrained)
1 15-oz. can fire-roasted diced tomatoes (try Muir Glen brand)
1 red pepper, roasted and peeled
1 c. fresh, frozen, or canned corn kernels
1 small can green chilies
1 onion, diced
3 cloves garlic, chopped
2 tbs. olive oil
seasonings to taste: salt, pepper, cumin, adobo, chili powder, etc.

Chop the chicken breast in half, leaving skin on and bones in. Boil in salted, seasoned water until cooked through, about 20 min. Remove from pot (reserve cooking liquid), remove the skin, and shred off the bone with a fork. Meanwhile, roast the yam and the red pepper. Peel and dice the yam (1/2 in. dice). In a foil-lined roasting pan, toss with olive oil, salt, pepper, chili powder, and cumin. Roast in the oven for half an hour or so, until the yam is golden and tender. Roast the pepper over the flame of a gas burner, or under a broiler until skin is charred. Let cool, peel off the charred skin, and dice the now naked pepper. Now start the stew: heat olive oil in a heavy saucepan, then add onions and garlic. Saute until softened. Add tomatoes, beans, corn, and green chilies. Bring almost to a boil, and then add chicken, diced pepper, and roasted sweet potatoes. Add chicken stock as necessary so that there is enough liquid to cover. Season stew. Cover pan and let simmer until everything is hot and flavors have blended, about 10-15 min. Serve in wide bowls with cornbread, rice, or tortillas.

Soup's On

As soon as the weather starts to turn chilly, there is nothing I love to eat more than a big bowl of hearty soup. In fact, even when the weather isn't so chilly, there is nothing I love more than a big bowl of hearty soup. I'll admit that I've been crafting pots of thick, vegetable-filled soup since late August. The fun really starts now, though, when hefty winter squashes and smoky roasted root vegetables are the stars of the season.

I mentioned in a previous post that I had experimented with pumpkin wild rice soup, and I am still working on getting a recipe that is just right. I have even been informed that I may be receiving, via mail, some fresh Minnesotan wild rice. So, I'll postpone that particular soup until further notice.

However, I thought I would share a couple of delicious vegetable soup ideas - nothing too fancy - that have crept their way into our dinner repertoire lately. For all of these soups, I tend to toss in whatever catches my eye when grocery shopping, so don't be alarmed by the lengthy ingredient lists. The great thing about soups is that you can add anything you want, and it always (well, almost always) turns out spectacularly. I haven't included step-by-step instructions, but have noted anything noteworthy. Always start by sauteing the mirepoix (here it's onion, carrot, and celery), and you'll be fine. Here are some ideas to get you started:

Late Summer Vegetable Soup (a bit out of season, but still yummy)

onions, carrots, and celery
fresh or frozen corn kernels (cooked)
peas or fresh broad beans, if available
zucchini
buttercup or butternut squash
handful of fresh parsley
seasonings - salt, pepper, cumin, turmeric, paprika, etc.

Make sure to allow enough cooking time if using fresh beans. Puree corn and parsley together until creamy to provide a thickening base for the soup. Puree other vegetables to achieve desired chunkiness.

Mushroom Wild Rice Soup

onion, carrots, and celery
mix of wild mushrooms - cremini, oyster, button, shiitake
chicken broth
zucchini
peas
cooked wild rice
seasonings - salt, pepper, sage, bay leaf, garlic, etc.

Add vegetables first, then puree before adding mushrooms and rice. Saute the mushrooms separately before adding to the soup.

Tuscan-Style Vegetable Soup

onion, carrots, and celery
1 can crushed tomatoes, with juice
stock or broth
starchy vegetable, such as potato or squash
cannellini beans
peas
chard, spinach, or kale
roasted or crushed garlic, left in chunky pieces
seasonings - salt, pepper, basil, oregano, parsley, bay leaf, etc.

Start by sauteing the flavor base, then add tomatoes and stock. Cook squash or potato in soup until tender, then add peas, canned beans, and leafy green. Serve ladled over day-old crusty bread, or add orzo.

More inventive soups on the way, but this should hold you over for now.

All the Fixins

On Saturday night, overcome by a false nostalgia for some down-home cooking, I decided to make a "traditional" American meal. I say "false" nostalgia, because my family was never the meat-and-potatoes type. A normal meal at 7 Kings Pine Rd. in Westford, Massachusetts, usually took the form of a Chinese-inspired stir fry with bok choy and soba noodles, turmeric-infused rice with daal and chickpeas, or ubiquitous rice and beans (my favorite!).

For the most part, I have inherited my mother's inclination towards ethnic culinary experimentation, and keep the nearest pantry stocked with garbanzos, tofu, garam masala, cumin, plain yogurt, miso, and hot paprika. A former pesco-vegetarian, I am relatively apprehensive about preparing meat and tend to mix and match various vegetable dishes, soups, and mezze when serving a meal.

On Saturday, though, I was inspired to go completely New England-traditional. Ok, so I added a hefty sprinkling of cayenne to my pumpkin soup. And curry. And cumin. But for the most part, my meal was tame: salad with granny smith apple vinaigrette and walnuts, (spicy curried) pumpkin soup, and lemon-herb roasted chicken breast with potatoes and homemade stuffing. I will admit the potential for having been influenced by reading the latest issue of Bon Appetit (it was the Thanksgiving issue).

In particular, the magazine inspired my chicken: we purchased an entire skin-on, bones-in chicken breast, which afforded me the opportunity to mix some fresh herbs in some butter and rub it between the skin and the breast meat. I then slipped about 10 or so thin slices of lemon under the skin, and sprinkled the outside with some kosher salt and pepper. That was it. No stuffing the cavity, no kitchen twine, no giblets. I just popped that baby in a roasting pan alongside some quartered, oiled, and seasoned potatoes and some of the stuffing I had prepared (in copious amounts).

Speaking of the stuffing: I had originally intended to do an easy wild rice stuffing, which requires no bread. Upon returning from Whole Foods, however, I found half of a stale loaf of rustic whole wheat bread, ripe for cubing. And so it was that I reserved the wild rice for the pumpkin soup, cubed the bread, toasted it in the oven until dry, and then mixed it with the other stuffing ingredients:

Olive oil/butter
Carrots
Onion
Celery
Mushrooms
Dried cranberries
White wine
Chicken broth
Sage, salt, pepper, etc.

I haven't included measurements in this pseudo-recipe, but as long as you mix the above in rationally-devised proportions, you will come up with something delicious. As I mentioned before, some of the stuffing got prime seating next to the chicken breast, and the rest was baked in a separate pan. Simple, not outrageously unhealthy, completely delicious. Take a look:




I also mentioned a pumpkin soup with wild rice. It was quite tasty, incredibly easy, and beautiful, but I will withhold the recipe until I get the seasonings just right. This time around I think I may have overdone it with the cayenne. Stay tuned, but for now, a visual offering:




It should be noted that the morning following this hyper-American feast, I was visited by the insane notion of making a leftovers omelette. We had a few potatoes and a hefty helping of stuffing left, and I made an omelette for two using 4 eggs, a large frying pan, and an utter disregard for visual appeal. It may not have been pretty, but Jonathan and I agreed that it was one of the best omelettes we had ever eaten. Served with generous amounts of organic ketchup, of course. Why does ketchup make everything taste better? (This is not rhetorical, please post a response in the comments section, if you are so inclined.)

Baked Eggs

I am authoring this post, even though Mia was responsible for the meal in every way, because I already published it to my blog.

Inspired by my new favorite food blog, 101cookbooks.com, I decided to experiment with baked eggs this morning. We used oiled ramekins, lined them with bread (whole wheat pita for me, sourdough toast for Jonathan), piled in a few diced tomatoes and onions, seasoned with parsley, salt, and pepper, and then plopped an egg on top. We baked them at 425F for about 10 minutes, just until the yoke was set. They were fantastic. Similar in gooey deliciousness to poached eggs, but with all the flavors of a tasty omelette.