Showing posts with label Fall. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Fall. Show all posts

Thursday, February 25, 2010

Penne Risotto with Beef Short Rib


Dear Michelle,

I wonder why it is that twice now, when I'd like to relate to you a recipe by Patricia Wells, it will end up being a short post? An hour must be sufficient for me to write this, as I'll soon be on my way to meet my mother at noon, but this must be shared! I've already told you how I feel about Wells, so I'll not go into that again. Suffice to say that the following recipe for penne risotto is one of my favorites, not just of her recipes but of meals to make in general, and like regular risotto, it can be varied infinite ways.


The impetus for this came from a half-pound of beef short rib Jeff brought home from our favorite neighborhood butcher. As you know, there's not too much you can do with a half-pound of short rib; it's a bit like having 3 pieces of bacon, that is to say, delicious but not a whole lot of meat. However, when faced with that bit of discouraging information regarding his meant-to-be-exciting-surprise-purchase, he accessed his talent for coming up with terrific meals to suggest penne risotto, a favorite of his we'd not had in a while.

The basic idea of penne risotto is that of regular risotto. You toast the pasta in oil, add seasonings, then add broth slowly. The result is tender, perfectly al-dente pasta that is coated in rich, flavorful, almost silky sauce. This goes well with so many things: roasted vegetables in the summer, artichoke hearts, asparagus; the variations are endless. This time, it went perfectly with short rib. I'd cooked the short rib simply in white wine, herbes de Provence, onion and carrot, then shredded it and added the liquid, vegetables, and meat to the chicken stock I'd bought (chicken because it's a little lighter, but one could certainly use beef, or even vegetable stock), then added the meat and veggies when I was almost through adding stock. Now, I might go buy a half-pound of shortrib just for this! It was the perfect amount of meat (plus a half-pound is pretty cheap), and the additional carrots I added towards the end balanced it out well.



Penne Risotto with Beef Shortrib

Penne risotto recipe is from Patricia Wells at Home in Provence, pg 144-145. The below recipe is hers (as always, paraphrased by me. Seems wrong to copy word for word), with my notes in parentheses.

About 2 1/2 quarts stock
1lb dried Italian tubular pasta (works with any pasta; orzo is especially nice)
1/2 c extra-virgin olive oil
1/2 t fine sea salt
4 T tomato paste
2 T finely chopped rosemary leaves (I used dry herbes de Provence, sometimes rosemary, sometimes thyme when I have fresh; let this be dictated by what else you are adding, what you have, and how you feel)
1/4 t crushed dried red pepper (I sometimes omit)
2 t good red wine vinegar
1/2 c grated Parmigiano-Reggiano cheese (or another good, dry, hard cheese, finely grated)

Heat stock till barely simmering (here, I added short rib liquid and guessed as to how much. It was fine. If you run out of liquid just heat more up. Directions for cooking short rib below). In a large skillet (LARGE- otherwise there will be overflow. Trust me), heat oil over moderately high heat. When hot but not smoking, add the pasta, stirring till until it begins to brown lightly.



Season with salt and add tomato paste and rosemary, stirring constantly until pasta is evenly coated with sauce (allowing the tomato paste to brown lightly as well will add a very rich flavor). Slowly add a ladelful of stock, stirring until most of the liquid is absorbed. Turn heat to medium; you want to maintain a simmer. Pasta should cook slowly. Just before it looks dry, add another ladeful of stock. Continue until pasta is tender. It will feel springy to the touch, and have just a little bit of resistance when bitten. (I added additional diced carrot about halfway through. Here's where I would add any vegetable, except those roasting in the oven, which I would stir in with about 5 minutes to go. How do I know when that is? The pasta is almost done, a little too hard to the bite; one more ladelful will do it. This is also the time at which I added the short rib meat). Add vinegar and additional seasoning to taste. (the vinegar helps to balance the richness. It makes a huge difference!). Stir in half the cheese. Serve in warmed bowls or dishes, sprinkling on the rest of the cheese. (Reheats very well- so much better than buying lunch out!)

Short Rib

We think of beef as traditionally cooked in red wine, but I wanted something a little lighter for this. There is a French dish called Provencal daube in which it is cooked in white wine, so I figured that would work out fine. And it did. Maybe I'll try making the daube sometime soon, before it gets warm out.

1/2 lb short rib
white wine
herbs
1 carrot
1 onion

Brown short rib in skillet. Set aside.
Dice and saute one half onion (or whole small onion) and one carrot.



Put beef, and juices, in a container small enough that you don't need to add the whole bottle of wine to cover, or almost cover, the meat. I only had a bowl that was a little too small (or way too large), so the beef wasn't quite covered. I kept turning it. It was fine. Add veggies, a sprinkling of herbs, salt and pepper, and wine to cover (or almost).


Cook at 200F for a few hours, until it starts to fall apart.

(Some notes paraphrased from the nerdy cook's favorite book, One Food and Cooking by Harold McGee: Pieces of meat like short rib are naturally tough because of the presence of connective tissue. Braising will make them tender and succulent. The connective tissue will turn into gelatin [what makes the meat succulent] at 160-180F. So, once meat is browned for flavor, cook at a gentle, low heat for best results. That is also why I do not preheat the oven here, which is fine if you have plenty of time)

Saturday, November 21, 2009

Simple Yellow Squash and Mushroom Penne

Dear Devon,

Cooking in someone else's kitchen is always a challenge. When you walk in, you don't know what you'll find. The simplest dishes can seem overwhelming when you don't have your favorite knife or trusty pan. Best case scenario, the kitchen is better supplied than the corner restaurant, offering an army of pans, gadgets, utensils, spices and herbs, salts and oils. In my experience, these kitchens are rare birds. Most have the requisite skillet, pot, and baking tray with maybe a wooden spoon or a spatula or two. These are the situations that really test me. I have to adjust how I cook to a new environment, which leads to innovative uses of limited resources and sometimes absurd situations. I love the challenge!

For the past few weeks, I've been staying at a friend's apartment. Her place is nicely situated on the main drag of a bustling neighborhood in Brooklyn. The food culture is amazing and really accessible. I've taken to eating out a lot during my stay, but occasionally, I do fire up the stove. The kitchen is tucked into a tiny corner of the apartment. It contains the mandatory stove, sink, and fridge...but not much else. A cutting board takes up the entire counter space. The stove is possibly the smallest I've ever seen. And most amazingly, her microwave is a toaster too!! It toasts amazingly well for a two in one unit. At the moment, the biggest challenge is getting the pan on the stove. The burners are placed so close together that the pan actually straddles several burners. Fitting a pan and a pot on the stove is a tight squeeze. But somehow, I've managed to figure out a way to control the temperature and cook some pretty fantastic food.


I didn't want the first meal I prepared in this kitchen, other than cereal, to be too strenuous. This simple yellow squash and mushroom penne was the perfect place to start. Simple in its execution; a pretty basic recipe. It allowed me to get a feel for the kitchen- how to set myself up, the pitfalls of the over-sized pan, etc. I must admit, a small kitchen isn't that bad. I'm an arm's distance away from the sink and the stove. In one spot, I can chop onions, wash squash, and saute mushrooms.

I didn't really think too much about this dish before I made it. It came together pretty organically. Both the squash and mushrooms looked nice at the store, so I bought them without any real intentions. I love mushrooms sauteed in a bit of butter and sprinkled with salt. The mushrooms exude a wonderful earthy flavor and become almost meat-like. The yellow squash with its delicate flavor and light texture pairs nicely with the dark tones of the mushroom. I browned both in melted butter to give them a nuttiness and a bit of color. I finished off the pasta with a light sauce made simply by deglazing the pan with a bit of red wine. Parsley lends a bit of freshness and olive oil for richness.

I suppose, it really isn't about how good your pans are or the size of your kitchen. In the end, fresh ingredients, a bit of organization, and basic cooking techniques can take you a long way.

Yellow Squash and Mushroom Penne
serves 2

two small yellow squash, sliced
5 oz. small mushrooms, sliced
1 clove garlic, crushed
1/4 c. white onion, chopped
1 tbsp butter
1/3 cup parsley, coarsely chopped
1/4 cup red wine
1/2 cup pasta water
1/2 tsp salt
1 tbsp olive oil
penne

Bring a large pot of salted water to boil. Add enough penne for two servings.

In a large skillet, melt butter. Gently cook the onion and garlic until translucent. Add the squash and mushrooms. Spread out the mushrooms and squash into a single layer. Cook over a medium low flame, browning the squash and mushrooms on both sides. Sprinkle liberally with salt and toss. Add wine and pasta water to the skillet. Reduce the liquid until about half. Add cooked pasta, olive oil, and chopped parsley. Toss to distribute evenly.

Wednesday, November 11, 2009

Beet and Fennel Salad with Lime and Cilantro

Dearest Michelle,

It's been a rough week. I've had some short deadlines on retouching work, and I had a few misses in the kitchen, plus, even worse, an undocumented success!

The biggest confidence crusher was the ramen. I decided I wanted to make Korean ramen soup from scratch (except for the noodles; I'm not insane). The whole doomed idea started with two beautiful pieces of beef shank, and then cold weather always makes me crave Korean food. It's the best non-dairy comfort food around, as far as I'm concerned.

So I picked up some noodles that looked like ramen at the giant Asian grocery store in Chinatown (an aisle of just noodles! It's amazing), grabbed some mushrooms, veggies, and Korean hot chili paste, and prepared to make my fiance's heart swell with pride. Looks like it would be good, right?





There's no after photo for a reason. It was ok, and I managed to alter the final product to create some satisfactory lunches, but it was more of a using up than a tucking in. Pretty blah, and muddy tasting. I'll conquer it someday.


Sunday I decided to make a Mexican-spices roast chicken to go with the rest of the chimichurri. It was good; the chicken was juicy (it's a never-fail recipe, but I'll write it out in the original form someday), but not overwhelmingly flavored with the spices. It was great with the chimichurri and smashed roasted potatoes, but nothing new or exciting enough to write about.


And then, finally, I found inspiration in the vegetable store. I had a migraine, and I was craving vegetables and vinegar, something clean and fresh. Now, I love beets, and they now show up in our meals on a regular basis. I get this from my grandmother, who will eat them right out of a can. I didn't even know I liked beets until a few years ago; my father hates them, and denigrated the undeserving roots (along with tuna casserole) so much in my childhood that I thought them not worth any attention. Oh, boy was I wrong. They are sweet and tender, and go so well with vinegar. Plus, you know how I love anything with an intense color. Sometimes I mix the leftovers with egg salad; the pickled flavor goes so well with it, and who doesn't like magenta lunch food? (turns out a lot of people think it's very strange, actually)



Here, I took boiled and marinated beets and tossed them with bright, crisp fennel that had been sitting in a little lime juice to mellow it. I'm not a big fan of cooked fennel, but I love it thinly sliced in salads, especially in the winter for some reason. I had limes on hand, so I thought I'd substitute that citrus for the traditional orange that fennel goes so well with. The whole dish is rounded out by a sprinkling of pungent cilantro. It was exactly what I wanted. I just ate the leftovers for lunch with a thick slice of buttered toast, and it was amazing.




Fennel and Beet Salad

1 bunch beets (look for beets with greens attached. These are an indication of freshness, and can be prepared like kale or chard. Leave 2 inches of stem on the beet when trimming leaves off, and don't trim the root)
1 large bulb of fennel, shoots trimmed off
2 small limes, 1 zested
vinegar ( I used orange-muscat-champagne vinegar from Trader Joe's that I am partial to. White wine vinegar would be good as well)
cilantro
olive oil
Dijon mustard
kitchen gloves

Trim and wash beets, then boil till tender when pierced with a knife, about 20-30 minutes. While they cool a bit, make the vinaigrette: squeeze half a lime into a bowl, and add about a 1/2 t mustard, a pinch of salt, the zest, and about 5 T vinegar. Blend, then slowly whisk in about the same amount of olive oil. I tend to like my vinaigrette tart, so keep tasting and use more or less oil as desired, but remember that the beets are naturally sweet. Add juice of the other half a lime if it needs more.
Use the kitchen gloves to rub the beet skins and stems off under running water. I love this part; the skins just slip right off, and everything in your sink turns magenta. Keep gloves on (or your hands will also turn magenta), and slice beets in half, then into half-moons, and add to vinaigrette. Let sit at least an hour, tossing occasionally.
Thinly slice fennel, and let sit in juice of half a lime and a few T of vinegar for a few minutes. Add beets, toss. Sprinkle with a small handful of cilantro leaves; how many depends on final amount of beets and fennel. The flavor should be just noticeable, not overwhelming.

Friday, November 6, 2009

Carrot Soup

Dear Devon,

Growing up in San Francisco, I was not a big soup drinker. Moving to LA didn't change that. But somehow, cold weather changes everything. Now that I live in New York and spend seven months in a scarf and gloves, soup makes sense. Over the years, I have developed a number of soups to fit my lifestyle. I have quick impromptu soups, when I find myself making soup almost without intending to; then there are the soups that I prepare in advance and save for later, sometimes in the form of a concentrated base. When I am ready to eat, I pour the concentrate into a pot, add water or stock, heat, and eat.

Making a smooth and light carrot soup is tricky. If it is too smooth, the texture comes off more like baby food than a soup for adults with a full set of teeth. Another pitfall is the stick-to-your-ribs, hearty lumberjack soup. This happens when you don't blend long enough or add enough liquid. I still struggle with this step and live in fear of burning out my blender.

I always purchase carrots with the greens still attached. It's the best way to insure the maximum freshness. Choose bright orange and blemish free carrots with vibrant green leaves. Freakish shapes are fine. It doesn't affect the taste, and once they've been pureed, no one will know. I find the funny shapes charming. I also love the crisp, fresh smell released when I chopping off their stems. That alone is enough to make me purchase carrots with their greens every time.
For this soup, carrots are the star, but I sneak in a couple of important supporting actors. Fennel, if you haven't already discovered it, is amazing. Some people dislike the dark, licorice or anise-like taste of fennel, while others can't stop munching on it. Eaten raw, it makes for a refreshing salad or snack, but I prefer fennel roasted. The flavors are calmer and less intense. Fennel balances the sweetness of carrots. Barely noticeable in the soup, it is more of an interesting background flavor. For this soup, roasting the carrots and fennel brings out the most flavor. Sunflower seeds, nutmeg, and cumin give the soup an earthy quality and a bit of spice.

How much to dilute the soup depends on how thick you like it. It's not an exact science. For reference, in this recipe, I used three cups of water for an entire batch. I did not make concentrate this time.

I like to top the soup with a small handful of arugula to add some freshness. If you are feeling decadent, finish the soup with a drizzle of cream or chopped walnuts. Serve with crusty bread, perfect for mopping up soup sloshed on the sides of the bowl. I made a wonderful parsley and garlic goat cheese spread. No recipe- just softened goat cheese, parsley, a few cloves of raw garlic, and coarse salt. It tasted unbelievable.


Carrot soup, not just for babies and lumberjacks, but New Yorkers too.


Carrot Soup
serves 6 as a main course, 8 as an appetizer

2 bunches of carrots
1 bulb of fennel
2 cloves of garlic
1 1-inch nub of ginger, skinned and chopped
1/2 onion, diced
1/2 tsp fennel seed
1/2 tsp cumin
3 tsp sunflower seeds
1 sprig of rosemary
2 tbsp olive oil
1 tsp salt
1/8 tsp nutmeg
3 cups of water

Preheat oven to 350 degrees F. Peel and chop carrots into 2-inch long pieces. Remove the upper fronds and base of the fennel. Halve the fennel and slice into 1/2-inch thick slices. Cut the ends off two cloves of garlic. Crush with the flat side of a knife, do not remove the papery skin. Place chopped carrots, fennel, and crushed garlic on a foil-lined baking sheet. Toss the veggies with 1 tbsp olive oil, salt, and pepper. Roast in the oven until the carrots can be easily pierced by the tip of a knife, roughly 30-35 minutes. Cool about 10 minutes.

In a large Dutch oven, heat 1 tbsp of oil over moderate heat. Add one sprig of rosemary. Cook until the oil is fragrant. Add chopped onion and ginger. Saute until the onions are translucent, 5 minutes. Add sunflower seeds, cumin, and fennel seeds and gently toast. Remove rosemary. Set aside.

Working in batches, place the cooled veggies into a blender along with sauteed onion mixture. Pour in one cup of water. Puree until smooth. Return the pureed mix to the Dutch oven. I managed to puree everything in two batches, using one cup of water per batch. In its pureed form, the soup is powerful and thick. At this point, I reserve some of the puree in glass jars and set aside for future use. Pour one additional cup of water into the Dutch oven. Add 1 tsp salt and nutmeg. Bring to a gentle boil, just to heat through.

Serve with a small handful of arugula and black pepper.

Wednesday, October 28, 2009

Fall Gnocchi with Cabbage, Apples, and Chorizo


Dear Michelle,

You know, the first time I remember having madeleines was when you sent them to me my first year in college. I was so impressed! Can't wait to try this recipe.

I have been on a bit of a gnocchi craze lately. Ever since I lived in Florence, packaged gnocchi have never been the same for me. Compared to the puffy little potato pillows they have there (which are not really that hard to make from scratch, but time-consuming), store-bought gnocchi seemed so dry and heavy. That is, until I recently saw Jacques Pepin's technique, on a public television rerun of one of More Fast Food My Way. It seemed so obvious; instead of boiling them, you saute them in fat, then cover almost all the way with water and let simmer till they are almost dry. They are still a whole different thing than Florentine gnocchi, but they deserve a respect all their own. They get a little crispy and golden on the outside, and soft and tender on the inside, and they are perfect for this cold weather when you want something substantial.


Jeff and I tried a chorizo taco at our favorite Mexican restaurant (this place is seriously good, and easy on the wallet. Try the tongue taco. For the squeamish, there are lots of terrific normal tacos, and all sorts of other delightful things), and loved it. When we saw some chorizo at a local bodega, he wanted me to try cooking something with it. I think that the fresh version might be better in this dish; I imagine it would fall apart instead of staying in chunks, but those were perfectly fine. Like usual, it was a winning suggestion on his part. Not only does the sausage ooze a bright orange fat when it is cooked, and I do love anything that intensely colorful, but the flavor is amazing. It is smoky and peppery from the paprika, and crunchy and delicious like anything made from the fatty parts of a pig tends to be. Add in soft gnocchi, silky sauteed cabbage, and just-cooked apples, and you've got a winner of a cool-weather meal.



Fall Gnocchi with Cabbage, Apple, and Chorizo

1/2 link chorizo, casing removed, diced (about a 1/2 cup)
1/2 package pre-made gnocchi
1/4-1/2 small green cabbage, core removed, cut in thin ribbons
1 apple
bacon fat and/or olive oil
butter
1/4 cup chicken stock (optional)
splash beer (optional)
water
splash apple cider vinegar
salt and pepper
some sort of cheese to grate on top (optional, and we used aged Gouda)


Add 1T fat and/or oil to large, heated frying pan. Add chorizo and cook, stirring, till crispy and just browned. Remove, leaving fat in pan. Add gnocchi, and cook, stirring occasionally, till crispy and lightly browned (they will turn orange from chorizo fat, or I'd say till golden). Add cabbage and saute till mostly wilted. Add stock, beer, and water, or just water, till gnocchi and cabbage is 3/4 covered. Turn down to slow simmer, cover, and let soak up water for about 10 minutes, or until almost dry. Add apples. Add a splash of vinegar and pepper to taste. Stir in chorizo. Add salt to taste, and stir in 1T of butter. Plate and grate cheese on top if using.