Tomato Confit

Dear Michelle,

There are few pleasures as simple or as anticipated as the first ripe, sun-warmed tomato of Summer. Cut into thick slices, sprinkled with salt, and drizzled with olive oil, the first juicy, melting, dripping bite of fruit signifies to me the end of Spring more than heat, ice cream, or sandals. It is something I look forward to every year.

But, then, there comes a time when one is ready to turn those tomatoes into something else; after all, they are very versatile, and even the best tomato salads get old when eaten every day. And, of course, there are some people who don’t like raw tomatoes. Who knows what’s wrong with them, but I suppose we must account for all tastes.



Here is a recipe to satisfy those people, and others who didn’t even know they were ready to move beyond the perfection of a good vine-fresh tomato. This is not a roasted tomato, but one that is gently melted, the flavor condensed and intensified. The slices or halves (depending on what kind of tomato is used) are cooked at a very low heat with herbs, oil, salt and pepper, garlic if you wish, until they slump into a flavorful concentrate that you’ll want to eat right off of the baking sheet.

Wells uses plum tomatoes in her recipe, but I’ve used all sorts. It is too difficult to peel smaller tomatoes, and I don’t always bother to seed them either, though my (spoiled) father will complain when I skip this step. Regular, large tomatoes should be cut in ½-3/4 inch slices. The peel will come off after cooking. I rarely bother with the garlic, unless I’m using larger tomatoes, and instead of thyme I’ll often use herbes du provence. These, especially the smaller tomatoes, can be cooked further for a chewier texture, but if you go too far you will end up with something closer to sundried tomatoes. Not the worst problem to have, for sure.

You’ll find many uses for these, not the least as a way to store extra tomatoes if you have a surplus. My parents freeze the confit to enjoy in the colder months. Tomatoes prepared this way have many uses. You can:

Puree them for a pasta sauce; mix with equal parts finely chopped artichoke hearts and olives, adding oil and vinegar to taste, as a tapenade (I made sandwiches with this and goat’s cheese one night for dinner); pizza, where they are much better than fresh tomatoes; added to omelets; tossed into a pasta salad; you get the idea.

Patricia Wells’ Tomato Confit (recipe copied verbatim)

2 lbs plum tomatoes, peeled, cored, seeded, and quartered lengthwise

Fine sea salt and freshly ground pepper to taste

A pinch of confectioner’s sugar

2 sprigs of fresh thyme

4 plump, fresh garlic cloves, peeled and slivered

2 Tb extra-virgin olive oil

1. Preheat the oven to the lowest possible setting, about 200F (90C; gas mark 1).

2. Arrange tomato quarters side by side on a baking sheet. Sprinkle each side lightly with salt, pepper, and confectioner’s sugar. Scatter the thyme leaves over the tomatoes and place a garlic sliver on top of each quarter. Drizzle with olive oil. Place in the oven and cook until the tomatoes are very soft, about 1 hour. Turn the tomatoes, baste with the juices, and cook until meltingly tender and reduced to about half their size, about 2 hours total. Check the tomatoes from time to time. They should remain moist and soft. Remove from the oven and allow to cool thoroughly.

3. Transfer the tomatoes to a jar along with the cooking juices and oil. Cover securely and refrigerate up to 1 week. Use in salads, on sandwiches, for pasta, or anywhere you want a rich, pure, tomato flavor.

Almond Milk

Dear Michelle,

I’ve made my own almond milk. Why, you might ask, have I done this, something rather unordinary and perhaps for many people, unappetizing?

The idea started when you and I were talking about making almond-milk ice cream. I try to keep my dairy intake to a minimum, for several reasons. The most interesting of these is that I find I do not get as hot in the Summer sans dairy, which is a very good reason to abstain here on the steamy East Coast. I didn’t drink much milk before I discovered this, and obviously, I still do eat some dairy, but I’m always looking out for a good substitute.

After trying several different cowless sorts, almond milk is the most satisfying. It has a creamy texture and a mild but not bland flavor. Unsweetened is just sweet enough. However, not all almond milks are created equal. I’ve found I like Almond Breeze (original, unsweetened) the best, and I actively dislike the Pacific brand. I suspect that when you did not like the almond milk ice cream you once tried to make, this small distinction was the culprit.

I’d already been considering trying to make a cornstarch gelato with almond milk when we had that talk. Then, as frequently seems to happen in this city, someone mentioned to me a cafe in the East Village that supposedly makes remarkable homemade almond milk. I thought about it, looked online at various “recipes” (they’re barely even that), and decided I’d try it out.

WOW. This stuff sure beats what you can buy; it’s creamier, and has a finer, more delicate but also more pronounced almond flavor. The process is easy, consisting of soaking almonds overnight, slipping them out of their skins, blending them with water, and squeezing as much of the resulting liquid out of the ground almonds as possible. These leftovers can be reprocessed with more water, with a resulting milk that is not as fine or as creamy as the first press, but can be combined if a greater volume is desired. When all the nutty goodness has been wrung out, the almond meal can be dried, and the grounds used for cookies or pie crust.

(I haven’t yet been successful with my almond milk ice cream; don’t worry, though, I’ll be sure to let you know when I am. My attempts have so far been good, but what I’m looking for is sublime!)

Anyway, here’s how to make almond milk. Also, I have no idea what's up with the weird font sizes. Sorry about that. I can't change it for some reason.

Almond Milk

Notes: Internet research says that the almond skins make the milk bitter, and thus to blanch them, but I found (the second time) that soaking them overnight was just as effective at loosening the skins, and one less step to boot. The first time I made this, I added an additional half cup of cashews for more fat, hence more creaminess. It worked, and was delicious. The amount of water and nuts can be adjusted as you wish to make a thicker, or a more watery, milk. Make sure to get raw, unsalted nuts. I’ve also heard that the raw nuts available in stores are pasteurized, but that truly raw nuts can be purchased wholesale? I just used what I could buy in the store. Lazy me? Most recipes use a “sprouts bag” to squeeze the milk out of the puree; I ended up getting a “hops bag” (for some home-brewing step or another, I’m assuming ), which worked just fine. Any fine nylon mesh bag should work, and if you don’t have access to one and don’t want to wait for an Internet order to come in, a finely woven kitchen towel would probably work.

1 c Raw Almonds

(½ c Cashews, optional)

2 c Water

Let almonds soak overnight in the fridge. Drain. Slip skins off of the nuts. Rinse. Blend with water. Strain in bag, squeezing as much milk out as possible. Repeat if desired.

P.S. If you want to save the almond meal (and why not?), spread out on a baking sheet. If you live somewhere dry, you can probably just leave this out; since New York is so steamy right now, I put it in a gas oven (left off, it is still dry and warm in there). Crumble and store in the freezer.

Blueberry Ricotta Pancakes

Dear Devon,

I had a craving for blueberry ricotta pancakes. I saw someone eating them on a TV show and couldn't stop thinking about delicious sweet, salty, creamy, juicy blueberry ricotta pancakes. But instead of paying $14 for them at Sarabeth's, I decided to save the subway fare and grab my griddle and whisk. Sunday brunch is much more enjoyable in the comfort of your own living room, especially when you can wear your pajamas.


Blueberry Ricotta Pancakes
makes 15 pancakes

1 cup flour
2 tsp baking soda
pinch salt
2 tsp sugar
1 cup milk
2 eggs, separated
1/2 cup ricotta
3/4 pint blueberries
butter

Preheat oven to 200 degrees F. Line a baking sheet with wax paper. Set aside.

In a large mixing bowl, whisk together flour, baking soda, salt, and sugar. In a separate bowl, mix together milk and egg yolks. I like to use a large measuring cup for this - less clean up. Whisk the egg whites to a firm peak. Pour egg-milk mixture into flour, mix well. Mix in ricotta cheese. Do not beat in the ricotta too thoroughly. The batter should be a bit clumpy, dotted with chunks of ricotta cheese. Fold in beaten egg whites until fully incorporated. Stir in blueberries.

Bring a skillet to medium-low heat. Melt a large dollop of butter in the pan. Drop a ladleful of batter onto the hot skillet. When the surface begins to lightly bubble and the edges show signs of crispness, carefully flip the pancake. Continue cooking until nicely browned. Remove the finished pancake from the skillet and place on the lined baking sheet. Leave baking sheet in the hot oven to keep warm. Continue with the remaining pancakes, remembering to butter the pan after each pancake.

Serve with butter and maple syrup.

Vietnamese Butterbeef

Dear Michelle-

Those oatmeal cookies look terrific. I don't know how you can bear to bake anything right now; I haven't turned on my oven since before I left for the West Coast. I'd love to try those (hint, hint), as I've been missing those things that I usually do like to bake when it's not stiflingly hot and humid in my apartment, and oatmeal chocolate chip cookies are my favorite. I'll share my go-to recipe with you once I'm inclined to touch the oven dial, but for know I'll have to forgo, and you seem well-supplied with oatmeal cookies for the time being.

I feel like I haven't been cooking much lately. This isn't true, of course, since we rarely go out to eat and even more rarely (like never) miss meals, but I've been reluctant to make anything elaborate or that requires much stove time. Do you remember me telling you about my foray into Vancouver's Chinatown and the incredible Vietnamese butterbeef we had there?

Chinatown is supposed to be one of the not-so-nice parts of town, but I've felt less safe in parts of Manhattan. Though much lower and wider in scale than New York's Chinatown, the shops and smells seemed familiar to me in a very pleasing way. (I love New York's Chinatown, and have worked around there for years)




As in New York, the Chinatown area also seems to have a large number of Vietnamese restaurants, and we were headed to Phnom Pehn in search of the butterbeef and chicken wings, which are mentioned in almost all of the "must-eat in Vancouver" articles that we of course checked out.

Reviews online, you know, the democratic Yelp-type reviews, are mixed. Several talk about how great this place USED to be, how bad the service is, and how it's just not worth going any more. These are balanced by declarations of love for both butterbeef and chicken wings, among other various, but not as frequently mentioned, offerings. It felt like we waited forever for our food, but I think this was because we'd gotten lost on the way over and were very hungry, salivating over the plates in front of the parties sharing our table. We knew already what we wanted, and the other two parties had both ordered those two dishes, so we knew there was something special in store for us. Taking the time to take photos of the two dishes was torture.

The butterbeef was very rare, like bloody-in-the-middle and oh-so-tender rare, sliced so thinly it easily tore into bite-size pieces with chopsticks. It was laid out on a plate with a raised lip, and the indent was filled with the most delicious sour, then sweet, sauce with the depth of beef jus and fish sauce. All of this was covered with chopped cilantro, crunchy stem and all, and fried shallots, the whole thing at room-temperature. I don't know that it's meant to be eaten with rice, but Jeff had ordered some, and it was a great way to get all of that sauce.

I've been wanting to try to make this at home since I had it; since I can't go to Vancouver every time I wanted to have butterbeef, it only made sense to try to replicate it. The hardest thing about this is finding an acceptable replacement for the beef. Since this, in all other respects, is a terrific hot-weather-no-cooking-heat dish, making my own roast beef was not an option. I'm pretty sure that's what it was, perhaps cut at a slight angle to the grain? The texture of the cut (both to look at and to the mouth) was a bit softer than the roast beef I'm used to. I went to my butcher and got a half-pound of high-quality roast beef, which I deemed an acceptable substitute. Our friend Monique came over the first time I tried my version, and we ate ALL of it, going back for seconds or thirds.

I've made this twice now, one time guessing how much of everything I added, once actually measuring. Jeff had to taste and taste until he told me he was sure I had it right, and I think it's pretty close. The only thing I'd do differently would be to add some concentrated beef stock or demiglace, or maybe just boil it all down until it's a little thicker. We ate this on sushi rice the first couple of times, then the leftovers made pretty good sandwiches. Next time I'll toss all ingredients with rice noodles and lots of sauce. I've also used the sauce as a delicious marinade for tofu.

Phnom Pehn Butterbeef (approximation)

1/2 lb thinly sliced, very rare high-quality roast beef.

1 bunch cilantro, chopped

1 fried shallot (thinly slice, separate, toss in flour, fry), and garlic if you like

1 handful crushed peanuts (my addition)

cooked sushi rice

Fish Sauce Vinaigrette:

2 1/2 T palm sugar (or raw, or if you can't get either of those, light brown)

1/4 c lime juice

5t rice wine vinegar

3T soy sauce

1T fish sauce

Mix sugar with fish and soy sauces to dissolve. Add lime juice and rice wine vinegar. Taste and adjust as necessary. Jeff thought these proportions tasted too much like fish sauce to him in isolation, but once it was on the beef he did not notice. So taste on a slice of beef--you'll want to, anyway. Boil it down if you want it thicker; add a little beef stock or jus if you happen to have it. Refrigerate.

Make rice, fry shallots, chop cilantro if you haven't already. Lay the beef out on a deep plate and cover liberally in the sauce. Chuck a big handful of cilantro on top, followed by shallots and peanuts (our own accidental, false-memory addition). I'd recommend having extra sauce, shallots, and peanuts on the table.

Enjoy!

Peanut Butter Chocolate Chip Oatmeal Cookies

Dear Devon,

Have you ever flipped over the lid of a Quaker Oats box? On the backside, discreetly printed in light blue ink, there's a great recipe for oatmeal raisin cookies. The recipe is probably fifty years old, but how many people actually use it? If you don't know about it, I suggest you take a look at your box of oatmeal now. Because it's on every lid, I haven't bother writing it down. But for you, I will, along with my suggestions.


I first came across this recipe years ago when I went digging through the pantry and found, to my horror, three boxes of half eaten oatmeal. It is a universally acknowledged fact that people of a certain height have a hard time finding things on high shelves. The result is that mystery items can persist in our shelves until a giant comes along to rectify the situation. In my frustration, I sometimes think that anything above eye level might as well have been left at the store.


In the case of the oatmeal, I decided that consolidating the opened boxes wasn't enough. This oatmeal had to be consumed. Haunted by visions of eating oatmeal every day for the next three months, I followed Quaker's advice. Oatmeal raisin cookies bring to mind chalky, dusty, over spiced hockey pucks- but what ended up in my cookie jar was surprisingly moist, chewy, and flavorful. Since then, these cookies have made regular appearances at my table.

From the start, I substituted chocolate chips for raisins. I have never liked the sharp, pointed sweetness of raisins in baked goods. Chocolate is much better. A half cup of peanut butter folded into the batter increases the depth of flavor and adds a bit of needed saltiness. Note: peanut butter usually makes things better.



Peanut Butter Chocolate Chip Oatmeal Cookies
inspired from the Quaker Oats lid
makes 36 cookies

2 sticks of butter, at room temperature
1 cup brown sugar
1/2 cup white sugar
2 eggs
1 tsp vanilla
1/2 cup peanut butter
1 1/2 cups flour
1/4 tsp salt
1 tsp baking soda
1 tsp cinnamon
3 cups oatmeal
1 cup chocolate chips

Preheat oven to 350 degrees, line a baking sheet with waxed paper.

Beat butter and sugars together until smooth and creamy. Whisk in two eggs and 1 tsp vanilla. Fold in 1/2 cup peanut butter. Sift in flour salt, baking soda and cinnamon. Using a rubber spatula, fold in sifted flour mixture. Measure 3 cups of oatmeal and 1 cup chocolate chips, add to dough. Cool batter in fridge for about 15 minutes.

Drop cookies onto prepared baking sheet, using two flat spoons. Space cookies about 1 to 1 1/2 inches apart. Roughly 20 cookies should fit on one 18" x 13" baking sheet. Bake in the oven for 15 - 17 minutes or until the tops are nicely browned. Remove cookies to cool on a metal rack. Cool baking sheet before preparing the second batch. I learned this the hard way.