Ingredient Spotlight - Chanterelle Mushrooms

This is yet another one of those occurrences in which I never intended to create a blog-worthy recipe but ended up doing so. It all started with a basketful of chanterelle mushrooms on display at Whole Foods. Being a mushroom lover and never having cooked chanterelles, I picked one up, placed it in a produce bag, tossed it in my basket, and drifted over to the jicamas and peppers…and then I inched my way back to the chanterelles, putting another large mushroom in the bag. And another. With a shoplifter’s quick hand and shifty eyes scanning the periphery, I loaded up an entire produce bag as if I was trying to get away with wrongdoing. I guess I felt kind of guilty about taking most of the Chanterelles and depriving my fellow shoppers.

Fresh chanterelle

Other wild mushrooms such as morels, black trumpets, and truffles may garner all the accolades, but chanterelles are stars in their own right. When I took the first bite, I was overwhelmed, in a good way. The flavor was not what I expected, and the texture was absolutely delightful. Tasting a chanterelle for the first time was only comparable to meeting that one special person who cements in your mind the reason why it never worked out with any of your past loves and lovers and erases any doubts you had about whether or not you made the right call in holding out for something more congruent.

It’s no surprise that the flavor of a food that grows on the floors of coniferous forests amongst damp and decomposing plant debris would be characterized as “woodsy” or “earthy,” but I cannot think of a better description. The flavor is delicate; chanterelles are neither pungent nor musty. Unlike a porcini or a truffle, a chanterelle would not overpower other flavors in a recipe. When sautéed, chanterelles have a texture similar to slightly past its prime lemon meringue pie filling - delicate, but still firm.

Chanterelles cooking

When I cooked these, I planned on simply sautéing the chanterelles in a ton of butter with some sliced garlic. About two minutes into the cooking process, I splashed a bit of the Pouilly-Fuisse in my wine glass into the pan with the mushrooms, adding a bit more moisture and flavor to the mix. While stirring with one hand and using the other to peruse the ‘net for info on chanterelles via iPhone, I decided to add a few crushed juniper berries to the mix so that the flavor would be reminiscent of the pine forests in which the mushrooms grow. I didn’t stop at juniper berries. All these flavors needed a piquant boost; I achieved this by adding an ever-slight dash of finely ground white pepper, then I added a splash of light cream to fuse the whole dish together. This was definitely not what I had in mind as I was hoarding chanterelles at Whole Foods like a crack fiend, but it turned into a cohesive dish with flavor combinations that seemed like a big “DUH” after the fact. I am not exaggerating when I say that my eyes rolled back in my head with pleasure when I took the first bite. This is one of the best side dishes I’ve ever created. Hell, this is one of the best recipes I’ve created, period. I’m very proud of this one.

As an aside, the entire time that I was eating my ego-inflating chanterelle creation, I couldn’t stop thinking about roast chicken. This dish would pair extremely well with a very subtly seasoned roast chicken. Try this recipe if you can get your hands on fresh chanterelles! 


Chanterelles with Juniper Cream Sauce

2 T. butter
2-3 cloves garlic, sliced
1 lb. Fresh chanterelle mushrooms, sliced
Splash Pouilly-Fuisse, Chardonnay, or other oaked white wine
1/8 t. finely ground white pepper
4-6 juniper berries, crushed with the back of a spoon*
2 T. light cream
Pinch sea salt
Mild paprika, to garnish**

Melt the butter in a large saucepan over medium-low heat. Add the garlic and sauté for a 2-3 minutes, or until the garlic has turned slightly golden. Add the mushrooms, wine, white pepper, and juniper berries. Sauté, stirring gently but frequently, for approximately 10 minutes, or until the mushrooms are no longer firm. Add the cream and sea salt; sauté for a minute or two longer. Serve on individual plates, and garnish with a dash of mild paprika. 

* If you cannot locate juniper berries, simply add a teaspoon or two of gin. 

** If you have a jar of paprika that has lost its flavor, don’t throw it away - use it as a colorful yet flavorless garnish.

Cavatappi with Roasted Cherry Tomato Sauce

Great tomatoes in January, in Boston. If you're a serious foodie, that sentence probably just made you raise your eyebrows and question my credibility; as well you should have. However, I've been buying these tomatoes for quite some time, and I've never been disappointed in them, even in January.

Grown locally by Backyard Farms, these tomatoes are packed with flavor and rival some tomatoes I've had in August. I probably go through at least one box of their cocktail tomatoes per week, if not two or three. The other day, I got the idea to roast them and make a garlicky tomato sauce, and the idea evolved into this quick, easy, and delicious pasta recipe. Try this one the next time you're able to find good tomatoes!
　

Cavatappi with Roasted Cherry Tomato Sauce

1/2 lb. cavatappi, or other textured short pasta
8 cherry tomatoes, quartered
1/4 c. butter
1 c. dry white wine
1/3 c. tomato paste
1 c. grated pecorino romano
3-4 garlic cloves, minced
generous amount coarsely ground black pepper
salt (if necessary)
handful fresh basil leaves, chiffonade-cut*
additional basil leaves, for garnish

Cook the pasta in heavily salted water. In the meantime, preheat the oven's broiler. Arrange the cherry tomatoes on a foil-lined baking sheet with one cut side down (as shown in picture above). Broil the tomatoes for 7-10 minutes, or until the tomatoes' skins have begun to blister and blacken. Remove from oven and set aside.

chiffonade-cut basil

While the pasta cooks and the tomatoes broil, combine the butter, wine, and tomato paste in a large, heavy-bottomed pot over medium-high heat. Whisk vigorously until the tomato paste has completely broken down and blended with the wine and the butter has melted. Turn heat down to low and add the pecorino, garlic, and pepper (you probably won't need salt; pecorino is a salty cheese. Taste for seasonings and only add salt if absolutely necessary). Continue to whisk until the pecorino has completely melted. Once the pasta is cooked, drain it and add it to the sauce along with the roasted tomatoes and the chiffonade-cut basil leaves. Stir a few times until all the pasta is coated, then serve hot, garnished with fresh basil leaves.
　
* Chiffonade-cut is a technique often used on fresh herbs. To cut basil, stack the leaves on top of each other, roll up lengthwise, and cut into 1/8" strips. By placing the largest leaf on the bottom of the stack, the smaller leaves will be contained in the roll and the leaves will be easier to slice.

Stuffed Plantain Rolls with Callaloo, Bacon and Warm Chipotle Butter

This Christmas, Santa brought me some books on Puerto Rican and Floridian cooking. While I'm familiar with the names of most of the ingredients, I haven't had the experience of cooking with some of them, particularly plantains.  I love plantain - whether it's fried, mashed, or grilled, I've always been a fan of their starchy, semi-sweet flavor. So when I saw plantains in my produce department with a "4 for $1" tag, I threw a few into my basket. Talk about an offer I couldn't refuse! 


semi-ripe plantain

For those of you unfamiliar with plantains, they look almost identical to bananas.  However, they do not taste like bananas, nor can they be eaten raw - plantains must be cooked.  The great thing about plantains is that they can be eaten from their green stage to their fully black stage, each stage of ripeness offering different flavors and textures.  When green, they are starchy and potato-like; when black, they are much sweeter and less firm.  I like them best in the in-between phase, when the skins are starting to turn brown and spotted. 

Unsure of how I wanted to cook my plantains, I reached out to my friends and my Baconbutterbooze.com Facebook followers for input, but in the end, a spark of inspiration (and my compulsion to spike everything with bacon) led me to create the recipe below.  If you can find ripe plantains and callaloo, this recipe is one that I highly recommend! 


Stuffed Plantain Rolls with Callaloo, Bacon and Warm Chipotle Butter

4 c. cooked callaloo leaves*
4 chipotles in adobo, minced
1 T. adobo sauce
2 t. ground ginger
1 t. garlic powder
1/2 t. ground allspice
generous amount finely ground black pepper
1/2 t. salt
2 T. bread crumbs
2 semi-ripe plantains, peeled and cut lengthwise in 4 thin slices
8 slices thick-cut bacon
8 pats butter
Warm Chipotle Butter (recipe below)

Preheat the broiler to high, and soak 16 toothpicks in water.  In the meantime, make the stuffing.  If the cooked callaloo has any moisture, drain it in a colander, pressing any remaining liquid out.  Once drained, place it in a mixing bowl with the minced chipotles, adobo sauce, ginger, garlic powder, allspice, pepper, salt, and bread crumbs.  Mix well and set aside. 

Now, assemble the plantain rolls.  Take each strip of plantain, create a ring, and secure with a toothpick, as shown in the photo to the left.  Stuff the center with the callaloo stuffing, packing it in - it should be packed in tightly.  Next, stretch a slice of bacon around the plantain, and secure with a second toothpick.  Push the toothpicks in so that only the ends of each toothpick are visible - they have a tendency to burn.  Finally, top each roll with a pat of butter. 

Broil 3-4 minutes per side, using barbecue tongs to turn.  Turn them over carefully so that you don't squish the plantains or lose the stuffing mid-turn.  Once both sides are broiled, remove from the oven, turn the broiler to low, and finish under the broiler for about 10-15 more minutes. 

Remove from oven, drizzle with Warm Chipotle Butter, and serve hot.

* If you can't find fresh callaloo, you can use canned or frozen callaloo, which can be found in some supermarkets and Caribbean grocers.  If you can't find callaloo at all, spinach is a decent substitute. 


Warm Chipotle Butter

3 T. butter
1 T. adobo sauce, from can of chipotles in adobo
1 T. malt vinegar

Melt the butter in a small saucepan.  Whisk in the adobo sauce and malt vinegar.  Continue whisking until the vinegar's aroma has dissipated, and drizzle the hot melted butter over the Plantain Rolls.

Dried Mushroom Crisps

When I was 11, I didn't want clothes or Barbies or video games for Christmas; I wanted a food dehydrator. Weird, right? I blame it on the fact that A) I played waayyy too much "Oregon Trail" at school, B) Kirsten, the Swedish pioneer girl, was my favorite American Girls character (now discontinued...*crying*), and C) I was home sick a lot that year and developed quite an obsession for "Little House on the Prairie" reruns. I believe that those three things led me to my fascination with the American Frontier period. This meant that A) I would never be popular crowd material, and B) although I enjoyed reading fictional and nonfictional accounts of that time period, I wanted to understand the experience. I wanted to eat what they ate; hence the food dehydrator.

Humans have used drying as a food preservation method since the dawn of time, but drying was especially important to the Pioneers who set out across the country on wagon trains. Dried food was lightweight and compact, leaving more room in their wagons for other necessary supplies, like guns and whiskey. 


mushrooms on drying rack

Back to the early 90's. Along with my food dehydrator, my mom bought me a book called "How to Dry Foods" by Deanna DeLong, which I have since learned is practically the Bible of food drying manuals. Ms. DeLong offers a comprehensive guide on prep procedures and drying times for dozens of fruits and vegetables, as well as guides for making meat and fish jerky, fruit leathers, and many other helpful recipes, tips, and ideas. I tried many of them, and even at age 11, I wanted to try to do things my way (hint - orange segments do not dehydrate well).

Of all the foods I dried, sliced mushrooms produced my favorite result by far. Crisp and earthy, these babies always satisfied my crunch cravings. Because I dry my mushrooms in order to use them as snacks, my process is a bit different than that of the Italians and Chinese, who dry mushrooms simply so that they are available for use in recipes when fresh mushrooms are not in season. Imagine that - what my ancestors did out of necessity, I now do simply because I want a tasty snack! You don't even need a food dehydrator; you can do this in your oven as well. Not only is this snack delicious, it's great for all you New Year's Resolution dieters who are looking to replace your artificially flavored, partially hydrogenated, genetically engineered, deep-fried corn and potato crisps. Give this snack a shot! 

Dried Mushroom Crisps

2 c. boiling water
1 T. mild vinegar
2 t. salt
2 t. seasoning blend of your choice
1 pound button mushrooms, sliced 1/4" thick

Combine everything but the mushrooms in a mixing bowl, and blend until the salt has dissolved. Add the mushrooms. Give them a few stirs so that each of the slices are submerged momentarily. The mushrooms will float, so give them a few stirs every 10 minutes or so, and let marinate for one hour. 

Once the mushrooms have marinated, drain them from the brine and follow the drying method of your choice.

Food Dehydrator Method:
Place the mushrooms on the racks of a food dehydrator with all air vents fully open. Dry for 36-48 hours, or until they are crisp and no moisture remains. 

Oven Method:
Preheat the oven to 190. In the meantime, prepare the mushrooms. The mushrooms will fall through a standard oven rack, so pierce a sheet of foil every half-inch or so and place the tinfoil on a rack. Arrange the mushrooms on the tinfoiled rack and place in the oven. Leave the oven door ajar (you can keep it lodged open with a wooden spoon) and bake for 6-8 hours, or until the mushrooms have dried. 

These are delicious alone, but you can also dip them in traditional chip and veggie dips!

Culinary Adventure: Escargot

Tonight, for the first time, I ate escargot¾a/k/a snails.  Yup, the little slithery things that roam through your gardens when the dew is still fresh in the grass.  The little things with the antennas that shrink up into their shells when you touch them.  Gary, SpongeBob's pet.  I consumed him. 

I've always wanted to try snails, not because I'd heard anything about their wondrous qualities; as with most of my culinary adventures, my curiosity got the best of me.  How could I miss out on something that other cultures have enjoyed for centuries?!?  Life is too short to pass up something I might enjoy just because a few onlookers might raise their unadventurous eyebrows.  So, when I saw escargot at Whole Foods tonight, I ordered a half dozen.  If I liked them, it was a good enough portion that I wouldn't feel shortchanged, and if I hated them (fat chance), it wouldn't be too much of a waste.  The openings of the snails' shells* were already filled with a garlic & herb butter; I'm pretty sure the herbs used were parsley and chervil. 

* If you ever find yourself on Jeopardy and have to tell Alex (...or is it ask Alex? What is 'Go Ask Alex?'...) what the opening of a snail's shell is called, the correct anatomical term is "mantle."

I had no idea how to cook these things, and the guy at Whole Foods surprisingly wasn't much help (I'm going to assume that he was either new, or he was having a crappy day - Whole Foods employees are generally a knowledgeable, delightful bunch).  So, I did it the modern way and googled it. According to several potentially credible sources, 10 minutes in a 400-degree oven is the way to achieve gastropod greatness. 

Here's a helpful hint - if you're going to eat escargot, make sure you have a seafood fork.  Seafood forks are smaller than regular forks, and the tines span about half an inch (1.3cm), making it easy for the eater to pierce meat that is lodged inside a shell.  When me and my salad fork finally got a snail out of the shell, I bit into it, hoping it was worth the effort.  Had I used a seafood fork, it would have been! A salad fork was a bit too laborious for my ever-so-impatient soul.  The texture was similar to calamari or fried clams, but the flavor was not at all fishy - very earthy, in fact, almost like a wild mushroom. 

Since I didn't cook these myself, I can't offer you a recipe in good conscience.  What I can do, however, is offer you a photo journal.  Here are the pics I snapped throughout tonight's escargot adventure. 

P.S. Am I the only one who, upon hearing the word "escargot," immediately gets "Hypnotize" by Notorious B.I.G stuck in her head?  "...escargot, my car go 160..." I digress...back to the food, kids.  



Uncooked snails stuffed with garlic-herb butter

Baked in strategically crumpled tinfoil so that the shells stay upright
and the butter melts directly onto the snails.







Cooked escargot









Cooked escargot, snail removed from shell. 
They may look like something from the movie "Alien," but they taste great!

Ingredient Spotlight - Beets

For many years, beets were not popular in American cuisine, but sometime during the past decade, a visionary chef decided to throw a few roasted baby beets on a plate with a handful of lettuce and about an ounce of some goat cheese made by ex-yuppies who now own a farm but still drive BMWs. A star was born! The baby beet salad soon became the trendy, modern bistro salad menu's Tickle Me Elmo - everyone had to have it. 

Soon, another chef decided to one-up the original beet salad guy by using golden beets, and shortly after, shaved fennel, shaved parmesan, shaved truffle, shaved endive, shaved whatnot appeared. Meanwhile, the French, the Italians, and the Russians were most likely cracking up laughing, collectively cackling, “You A-holes JUST thought of that?!?” The French have been making salads of crisp lettuces, soft cheeses, and roasted root vegetables for eons. The Italians use beets to dye pasta and risotto, and they use the leaves in savory pies. And the Russians? Just ask NHL superstar Evgeni Malkin, who swears that his mom’s borscht brings him good luck. 

Beets came into the spotlight for a while, but soon their small-plate dynasty was displaced by the ubiquitous mesclun salad with watermelon and feta. I hope that chefs continue to find creative ways to use beets; they’re lovely. Nutritious, sweet, and like a drag queen Midas, everything a beet touches turns hot pink (including your pee - I hate to be crass, but the strong red pigment in beets can affect the color of some people’s urine, so if you tinkle pink, don’t panic - it might just be the beets saying goodbye). It is a little-known fact in the U.S. that beets’ leaves and stems are not only edible, but delicious - cook them like you would cook chard. The recipe below uses the entire plant - the bulbs, stems, and leaves. Its bold flavor and fantastic magenta color reminded me of iconic fashion design legend Betsey Johnson, and if I ever had the opportunity to cook for her, this is what I would serve. 

Next time you’re at the market and you see beets with their leaves attached, put them in your basket and try this rich, colorful, stick-to-your-bones pasta - you might fall in love. 

Pasta with Beets and Polish Sausage

1 lb. Dry fusilli or rotini
1 T. butter
12 oz. Polish sausage (Wellshire brand is fabulous!)
1 onion, sliced
3-4 beets with greens, beet bulbs diced, stems and leaves chopped
2 t. caraway seeds
½ t. garlic powder
¼ t. finely ground white pepper
1 t. smoked salt
Handful chopped fresh dill
8 oz. Sour cream

Cook the pasta. In the meantime, heat the butter over medium heat in a large, heavy bottomed pot.  Once the butter has melted, add the sausage, onion, diced beet bulbs, and caraway seeds. Cook for 5-7 minutes, or until onion has softened up a bit. Add the beet greens and stems, garlic powder, white pepper, and smoked salt, along with a splash of the pasta water (approx ¼ cup). Cover, reduce heat to low, and cook for 10-15 minutes. 

Once the beets, greens, and sausage have cooked, add the cooked pasta, the dill, and the sour cream. Stir, blending well until all the pasta is coated and has turned a bright shade of magenta. Serve with an extra dollop of sour cream and garnish with a sprig of fresh dill. 

Good Luck Recipes for the New Year!

Happy almost-2012, folks!  Whether you're going out and partying or staying home and skipping the whole thing, January 1 is just around the corner.  New Year's Day brings with it culinary traditions from around the world involving foods and dishes symbolic of good luck, wealth, and longevity.  Much like music and love, rich meat and leafy greens seem to transcend cultural differences and geographical and political borders, appearing as an integral part of the New Year's meal across the globe.  Here are a few of my favorite New Year's recipes!



Cotechino e Lenticchie (Cotechino Sausage & Lentils)

black lentils

Cotechino is an especially fatty, mildly spiced pork sausage made in Italy and traditionally eaten at midnight on New Years Day to bring in the new year.  The pork symbolizes richness, while the round lentils are thought to look like coins, also symbolizing wealth. 
 

1 cotechino sausage (fully cooked), approximately 1 lb.
generous splash olive oil
3 shallots, minced
1 carrot, finely chopped
3-4 whole dried sage leaves, finely crumbled
generous grinds of coarse black pepper
1/4 c. dried porcini mushrooms, chopped
light splash wine
8 oz. black lentils (also called Le Puy lentils)*
2.5 cups water
salt
truffle oil

Pierce the sausage all over with the tip of a knife.  Cover with water, bring to a boil, and then simmer for 20-30 minutes.

In the meantime, heat the olive oil in a large, heavy-bottomed pot over medium heat.  Add the shallot, carrot, sage, and black pepper; saute, stirring occasionally, until the shallot is translucent and soft. Next, add the porcini mushrooms.  Stir until the mushrooms are coated with the oil, then add the wine.  Stir thoroughly. 

Now, add the lentils to the pot. Stir for 1-2 minutes, or until the lentils are thoroughly coated with the oil/wine mixture.  Add the water.  Bring to a boil, and then reduce heat to low.  Simmer for 30 minutes, or until the lentils are soft, but not mushy. 

Once the sausage has cooked, remove it from the water, and when cool enough to touch, slice it into thin rounds.  When the lentils are done, spoon portions of the lentil mixture into individual dishes and finish with a light drizzle of truffle oil.  Top the lentils with 2-3 slices of the sausage, garnish with fresh herbs of your choice, and serve. 

* You can use regular lentils, but the beauty of black lentils is that they do not lose their firmness or their shape during the cooking process.

Hoppin' John

Hoppin' John is eaten on New Years Day in the American South to bring wealth in the new year.  Pork symbolizes wealth because it is a rich, fatty meat, and collards symbolize wealth because they are green, the color of money. 
 
5 oz. thick-cut bacon, sliced into 1/2" chunks
1 T. butter
1 large onion, diced
12 oz. lager or pilsner-style beer
1 large bunch fresh collards (approx. 2 pounds), ribs removed, chopped
2 t. dried thyme
2 garlic cloves, smashed
1/4 - 1/2 t. cayenne pepper
2 bay leaves
1 16-oz. can black-eyed peas
3 cups cooked white rice
salt & pepper to taste

In a large, heavy bottomed stock pot, cook the bacon, butter, and onion over medium heat for 8-10 minutes, or until the onion has softened and much of the fat has rendered off of the bacon.  Next, add a splash of the beer and stir until the liquid stops frothing, scraping up any browned bits from the bottom of the pan as you stir.  Now, add the collards, thyme, garlic, cayenne, bay leaves, and the remaining beer.  Cover, reduce heat to medium-low, and simmer for 40-45 minutes, stirring occasionally. 

Once the collards have cooked, add the black-eyed peas, rice, and salt & pepper.  Stir, then cook for 5-7 minutes or until the black-eyed peas and the rice are thoroughly heated.  Serve in small bowls. 


Pork & Sauerkraut

The Pennsylvania Dutch believe that because it is not possible for a pig to look backwards without turning completely around, therefore pork is associated with moving forward.
 
Amazing Breaded Pork Chops

bone-in pork chop

2 bone-in pork chops, about an inch thick
1 t. salt
generous amount coarsely ground black pepper
4-6 whole dried sage leaves, finely crumbled
1/4 c. mild red wine vinegar
1/4 c. balsamic vinegar*
1/4 c. water
1/4 - 1/2 c. flour
1 egg, beaten
1/4 - 1/2 c. Italian-style bread crumbs
1 t. dried thyme
1 t. dried oregano
1/2 t. salt
1/2 t. freshly ground black pepper
1/4 c. olive oil, for frying*

Rub the pork chops with the salt, coarsely ground pepper, and half the sage leaves (reserve the other half for later).  Place the pork chops in a shallow dish with the wine vinegar, balsamic vinegar, and water.  Marinate for 30 minutes, turning the pork chops halfway through. 

chops cooking

Set up three plates in the following order - first, flour, second, egg, and third, bread crumbs.  Add the thyme, oregano, salt, pepper, and remaining sage leaves to the bread crumbs, mix well.  Heat the olive oil over medium-high heat in a large, heavy bottomed frying pan (preferably cast iron).  While the oil is heating, bread the chops by dredging (lightly coating) each chop with the flour on both sides, then dipping each chop in the beaten egg, and then coating each of the egged chops with bread crumbs in a thick, even layer.  Coat generously; no moisture should come through. 

Once the oil is heated, add the chops to the hot oil and cook for 4-5 minutes on each side.  Once they are done cooking, set aside to rest for 5-7 minutes, then serve with sauerkraut. 

* No need to use an expensive aged balsamic vinegar for this marinade; the cheap stuff in the salad dressing aisle will work just fine for this purpose. 

Sauerkraut

To step up your sauerkraut, simply add a splash of gin, a generous grind of coarse black pepper, 2 halved garlic cloves, and 2 teaspoons of caraway seeds to store-bought sauerkraut (just don't buy the stuff in a can, it's crap - the stuff in plastic bags and glass jars has a fresher flavor).  Cook it over medium-low heat for 20-30 minutes, drain, and serve with pork chops. 



Longevity Noodles

The Chinese eat uber-long noodles called li mein during new year's celebrations.  The length of the noodles symbolizes a long life, and therefore cutting the noodle with a utensil is symbolic of cutting one's life short - never cut the noodle!  You can, however, chew them once they're in your mouth.  Chinese folks also serve steamed dumplings called "jiaozi" or "Yuanbao," both of which contain pork and cabbage. 

While I'm not familiar enough with Asian noodles to take a stab at this recipe, I've been told that many authentic Chinese restaurants serve longevity noodles, and in some restauarants, diners can watch as the chefs make the noodles - quite a process, which involves pulling and stretching the dough, not unlike taffy.  I find it so incredible that cultures on opposite ends of the globe include the same types of ingredients in their traditional dishes!



Hot-Blooded Mary

This isn't really a tradition, but if you're going to party on New Year's Eve, you might wake up on January 1 with a hangover that makes you curse the day your father met your mother.  If that happens, sometimes a little hair of the dog is the best cure.  Even if this doesn't cure your hangover, its spiciness will certainly wake you up! 

juice of 1/2 lime
1/2 t. prepared horseradish
1/4 t. Old Bay seasoning
splash worcestershire sauce
2 oz. vodka
6 oz. tomato juice
splash ghost pepper oil*
dusting of freshly ground black pepper
celery stick with leaves to garnish

Cmbine the lime juice, horseradish, Old Bay seasoning, worcestershire sauce, and vodka in a highball glass.  Mix well.  Add an ice cube or two, then pour in the tomat juice.  Stir again.  Top with a few drops of ghost pepper oil and a dusting of freshly ground black pepper. 

Be prepared to forget that you were hung over!!!

* if you haven't made ghost pepper oil, substitute a few drops of ultra-hot hot sauce and a few drops of olive oil.

Farro Spaghetti with Oyster Mushrooms and Dill

I wish I could say I'd planned this recipe. It lends itself so well to appearing alongside a rough, young Chianti served in jars rather than stemware, an unfinished wooden table with placemats rather than a tablecloth, and slices of a crumbly, aged cheese, consumed outdoors under the warm glow of a descending sun with mandolins and accordions playing somewhere in the distant grape fields...

This is the point where, if my life was a movie, viewers would hear the sound of a record being scratched, followed by silence, and then a slow fade into a shot of the protagonist (a/k/a me) being rudely awakened from a deep slumber. The next sequence would be shots of the protagonist coming home after a long, crappy day in the office, opening her refrigerator, and saying, "What the f*** am I gonna make for dinner tonight?" That, my dear friends, is how this recipe was born. 

The oyster mushrooms and the dill were left over from another recipe, and I had about half a box of farro spaghetti in my pantry. I bought this pasta for my mom and I to share because like us, it comes from Italy's Abruzzo region. Those three things, blended with rich, European-style butter, turned my recipe rejects into a dish that didn't look or taste at all accidental. I'm very pleased with this recipe, and if you're looking for something quick and easy, this would be a great recipe to try. 

A brief word about the ingredients - farro is a type of wheat that is commonly used in Italy and has recently gained popularity in the U.S., thanks to the whole grain trend. Just like regular wheat, farro can be ground into a flour and made into a wonderful pasta with a slightly nutty flavor. Farro pasta can be found at Italian groceries and specialty shops. If you have a hard time locating it, you can buy it online from my shop, Salumeria Italiana. If you can't find European butter, which has a higher butterfat content than American butter and is therefore much richer in flavor, you can substitute regular American butter. As a butter lover (OK, addict), I prefer the Euro stuff.

I hope you try this recipe!



Farro Spaghetti with Oyster Mushrooms and Dill

1 lb. farro spaghetti
2 T. European-style butter
1 lb. oyster mushrooms
several sprigs fresh dill, chopped
salt
coarsely ground black pepper
peppery olive oil
4 whole dill sprigs, to garnish

Cook the pasta. In the meantime, melt the butter over medium heat in a large frying pan. Add the mushrooms and saute for 5-7 minutes or until they've turned golden brown, adding the chopped dill during the last minute of cooking. You may have to do this in batches, depending on the size of your pan―the mushrooms should not be crowded.

Drain the pasta, and immediately add the pasta to the pan containing the mushrooms. Divide the pasta equally among four serving plates, topping each with a portion of the sauteed mushrooms. Add a pinch of salt and a few generous grinds of coarsely ground black pepper, finish with a few drops of peppery olive oil, and garnish each with a whole sprig of fresh dill.

Feast of the Seven Fishes (Festa dei Sette Pesci)

I love this time of year.  Christmas lights aglow, I get to wear cute hats and fuzzy sweaters, and I get to scour recipes trying to decide what seafood dishes to serve on Christmas Eve, a/k/a the Feast of the Seven Fishes. 

The Feast of the Seven Fishes, or festa dei sette pesci, is an Italian-Catholic culinary celebration of seafood that springs from the tradition of abstaining from meat on Fridays and holy days.  There are as many theories about the significance of the number seven as there are fish in the sea, so I won't venture a guess; I'll just be glad that as a good little Italian girl, I have yet another valid reason to buy seafood! 

If you and your loved ones follow the "seafood on Christmas Eve" tradition and need some recipe ideas, here are seven of my favorite seafood dishes.  Buon Natale!

Sea "Smores"

Olive oil

6 large sea scallops

Finely ground black pepper

12 parmesan crisps (see below) or ¼” thick toast rounds

1 batch porcini sauce (see below)

Dry off the scallops with paper towels so that there is no moisture on the scallops’ surfaces.  Dust the scallops with finely ground black pepper. 

Place a heavy-bottomed pan over high heat and brush with a thin coat of olive oil.  Add the scallops.  Sear the scallops for 1-2 minutes per side, turning regularly.  A golden-brown crust should form on the outside of the scallops; cook no more than 5-6 minutes total, depending on their size.  Remove from the pan; set aside. 

Place six of the crisps on a plate.  Spread 1-2 teaspoons of the porcini sauce on each crisp in a thin layer.  Next, place one of the seared scallops on top of the sauce on each crisp.  Finally, place one of the remaining parmesan crisps on top of each sea scallop, creating a bite-sized scallop sandwich.  Serve with a crisp, dry white wine. 

Parmesan Crisps

Coarsely-grated parmesan cheese

Heat a non-stick pan over medium-high heat.  Sprinkle about 2 T. parmesan in 2-inch circles on the pan (most standard-size pans will fit 3-4 crisps).  When the parmesan begins to melt and bubble, remove from heat and set aside to cool for a few minutes.  Using a spatula, carefully scrape the crisps off the skillet, making sure to keep them in one piece.  Place the crisps on paper towels to absorb some of the grease; set aside until ready to use. 

Hint:  Always make a few more than required to allow for any that break.

Porcini Sauce

¼ c. dried porcini mushrooms, broken or snipped into very tiny bits

¼ c. Boiling water

Splash whiskey

Splash heavy cream

Salt and finely ground black pepper

1/8 t. cornstarch

Soak the porcinis in the boiling water.  When they have softened, add the porcinis and their soaking liquid to a small saucepan.  Place over medium-low heat; add the whiskey, cream, salt, and pepper.  Cook, stirring constantly, until small bubbles begin to form on the surface of the liquid.  At this point, add the cornstarch, stirring constantly, until it is fully dissolved and the sauce begins to thicken.  Once the sauce is the consistency of melted chocolate, remove from heat and use a rubber scraper to transfer into a small bowl. 



Lobster Potato Salad

1.5lbs potatoes (red or Yukon Golds work well)

1-2T. butter

meat from 1 1lb. lobster, or 1 cup prepared lobster meat 

2-4 green onions, sliced into thin rings

juice from 1/2 lemon

splash olive oil

salt & pepper to taste

Slice the potatoes lengthwise into quarters, then slice into half-inch wedges.  Place these in a pot and fill with enough water to cover by at least an inch.  Salt the water, bring to a boil, then simmer until the potatoes are fork-tender.  When they are cooked, drain them and set them aside to cool.  In another similar-sized pot, melt the butter over high heat so that the butter begins to brown slightly.  Add the potatoes, remove from heat immediately, and toss the cooled potatoes with the melted butter.  Set aside.

While potatoes are cooking, slice the green onions and put them in a large bowl.  Next, add the lobster meat.  If you are using a whole lobster, break the lobster apart overtop of the bowl so that any flavorful juices are not lost. 

Once the meat is removed from the lobster, or if you are using prepared lobster, use your fingers to tear the meat into small chunks.  Add the cooked and buttered potatoes, lemon juice, olive oil, and salt and pepper.  Toss until all ingredients are evenly distributed, then cover and refrigerate for at least 30 minutes. 

Once the salad has chilled, you are ready to serve.  Place on a plate or in a shallow bowl over lettuce leaves. 

Calamari in Spicy Tomato-Wine Broth

8 oz. dried angel hair pasta

generous splash olive oil

2 cloves garlic, thinly sliced

2 T. golden raisins

2 T. capers

2/3 cup dry white wine

1 T. tomato paste

1 roma tomato, diced

1/2 t. crushed red pepper flakes

1/2 lb. calamari, cleaned, tubes sliced into rings

salt and pepper to taste

minced parsley, plus sprigs for garnish

Cook the pasta.  In the meantime, heat the olive oil over a medium flame in a large heavy-bottomed saucepan.  When the oil is hot, add the garlic and raisins.  Saute for 1-2 minutes, or until the garlic becomes fragrant but does not turn golden. 

Next, add the capers, white wine, tomato paste, roma tomato, and crushed red pepper flakes.  Stir vigorously so that the tomato paste breaks up and blends with the wine.  Cook until the liquid begins to bubble gently, about 5 minutes. 

Now, add the calamari.  Cook for only about one minute.  The calamari should start to firm up.  Drain the pasta, and add the hot pasta to the pan with the calamari and tomato broth.  Stir so that each strand is coated with the sauce.  By this time, the calamari should be cooked through.  Season with salt and pepper to taste, and divide among two serving dishes.  Sprinkle with minced parsley and garnish with a sprig or two of fresh parsley.



Baked Oysters with Chablis Cream

12 oysters, freshly shucked, in the deep “cup” shell

1 T. butter

1 shallot, minced

½ cup Chablis

½ cup heavy cream

Pinch sea salt

Pinch white pepper

Cayenne pepper

Preheat the oven to 450. In the meantime, drain any of the juice from the oysters, reserving the juice in a small bowl.  Next, melt the butter in a small saucepan over medium heat and add the minced shallot, cooking for a minute or two until the shallot is soft and translucent.  Once the shallot is cooked, add the Chablis and cook for an additional 5-7 minutes, or until the wine is reduced by about half.

Place a fine-meshed sieve over the bowl containing the oysters’ liquid.  Pour the wine and shallot mixture into the sieve, and use a spoon to press out any remaining liquid if necessary.  Reserve the cooked shallots for the Celeriac Puree recipe; return the liquid to the saucepan.

Now, add the cream, sea salt, and white pepper to the saucepan with the wine mixture.  Bring to a boil and cook for 6-8 minutes, or until the liquid has again been reduced by about half.  Reduce to very low heat.

Arrange the shucked and drained oysters in a baking dish.  Spoon 1-2 teaspoons of the Chablis cream sauce onto each oyster, then dust with the slightest amount of cayenne pepper.  Place the baking dish in the oven and bake for 4-5 minutes until the cream begins to turn golden at the edges.

Remove the baking dish from the oven, and using tongs, divide the oysters among serving dishes.  Serve with chilled, but not cold, Chablis.

Monkfish Medallions with Sherried Roasted Red Pepper Sauce

For the sauce:

1 roasted red bell pepper, chopped

1/4 c. Amontillado sherry

1 garlic clove, chopped

2 t. smoked paprika

2 T. heavy cream

2 T. olive oil

salt and pepper to taste

For the monkfish:

1 monkfish tail, cut into 1.5 inch thick medallions

flour seasoned with salt and pepper, for dredging

olive oil, for frying

First, make the sauce.  Combine all the ingredients in a blender, puree until liquefied, and set aside. 

Take each of the monkfish medallions and dredge in the seasoned flour, making sure to shake off any excess flour.  Set aside.  Heat a large, heavy bottomed frying pan.  When it is hot, add a generous splash of olive oil.  Once the olive oil is heated and covers the entire surface of the pan, add the monkfish medallions and cook for 2-3 minutes per side until slightly golden.  Remove from heat when they are done.  

To serve, place 2-3 medallions on a plate and drizzle with the Sherried Roasted Red Pepper Sauce. 

Farfalle with Smoked Salmon and Champagne Cream

1 lb. dried farfalle

1 jar Classico Alfredo

1/2 cup champagne

1/4 cup frozen peas, thawed

2 T. capers

dash cayenne pepper

generous amount of coarsely ground black pepper

4 oz. smoked salmon, sliced into thin strips

1 jar caviar (no need to go expensive, American lumpfish works fine!)

Cook the pasta.  In the meantime, combine the Alfredo, champagne, peas, capers, cayenne, and pepper in a large, heavy-bottomed saucepan.  Heat over medium heat, stirring frequently, until the sauce begins to bubble slightly. 

Add the cooked farfalle to the saucepan.  Stir to combine until all the pasta is coated with the sauce.  Now, add the smoked salmon.  Stir just until combined, then serve immediately, garnishing with a spoonful of caviar.  Enjoy!!!

Shellfish Risotto

generous splash olive

1 leek, sliced (white part only)

1 large or 2 small fennel bulbs, thinly sliced, a few fronds reserved for garnish

1 1/2 cups arborio rice

1/2 cup prosecco

5 cups shellfish stock*

1 pound calamari, mostly tentacles - slice tubes into 1/4" rings

1/2 pound cockles or other small clams

1 T. capers

sea salt

parsley, to garnish

Heat the shellfish stock to a low simmer.  In a separate large, heavy bottomed pot, heat the olive oil over medium heat, then add the leek and fennel.  Saute for about 5 minutes, then add the arborio rice.  Cook for another 2-3 minutes, stirring frequently, then add the prosecco.  Lower the heat, and stir continuously until the prosecco has been absorbed. 

Now, add a half-cup of shellfish stock.  Stir continuously until the liquid has been absorbed.  Repeat this process until the rice has absorbed the liquid and is almost fully cooked.  In the meantime, place the calamari and the clams in another pan with a bit of olive oil and a splash of the shellfish stock.  Cover, and steam until the clams have open and the calamari has firmed up.  Set aside a few clams in their shells for garnish, remove the meat from the rest and discard the shells. 

When the rice is almost fully cooked and you're on the last addition of liquid, add the calamari, clams, and capers.  Continue to stir until the last of the liquid is absorbed.  Finish with sea salt.  Serve in individual bowls with a clam shell or two, garnished with fennel fronds. 

Letter From My Liver

This post was originally published in my bi-weekly editorial column in my college's newspaper, October 2004.  It has been modified from its original version. 

Young Lady, we have to talk. I’ve been good to you over the years, have I not? But ask yourself the same thing—have you been good to me? The answer? Sadly, no.

For the first part of my employment, you were great to work for. I got stuff like Campbell ’s soup, pizza, and ice cream. Once in a while you’d make me work by throwing in a little Children’s Tylenol, but I could handle that. Then you went to college.

Kegs & Eggs, drinking games, frat parties, spring breaks, quarter drafts night (luckily for me, you live in Boston, where there is no such thing as quarter drafts night). The point is that you abuse me. Don’t federal labor laws state that employers are required to give a half hour break for every eight hours of work? Where was my break over Springfest? And what about coughing up some overtime pay?

You haven’t caught on that when someone says, “I bet you can’t chug faster than me,” it’s not because they think you can’t chug, it’s because they want to see you do it. And what about those nights out with the “SoCo Girls?” You’re lucky I didn’t force that Southern Comfort back up north and out your mouth.

Flip cup—fun for you, hell for me. Yeah, your team was the reigning champion eight times in a row, and I understand that this made you happy. You couldn’t have just basked in your glory though…you had to play several more rounds. You tried to justify this using feminism, claiming that no one should have underestimated an all-girl Flip Cup team. But I still hate you.

And then there’s Canada . I know you think that our neighbors to the north produce the world’s finest cheap lager, but Labatt and Molson (and at some locations, even Moosehead!) are sold in the United States, meaning that there is absolutely no reason that anyone 21 or over should be traveling to another country for the sole purpose of drinking.

Sure—dancing on tables and standing around in circles incoherently shouting the lyrics to “Sweet Caroline” and “Livin’ on a Prayer” is fun and acceptable now, but after this year, you can’t do that stuff anymore. Well, you could, but not without losing every trace of respect you ever earned. 

You college kids are in transition. You work, you study, you pay rent, and you’re independent from your parents, but society still allows you the right to act like childish idiots whenever you’re in close proximity to a beer ball. Have you ever seen anyone funnel a beer or do a keg stand at an office party? I didn’t think so. You know why? Because upon graduation, people are officially considered to be grown-ups. 

Every office has That Guy—you know, the one who drinks too much at the Christmas party and starts telling dirty jokes, eventually puking in a potted plant before his colleagues wrestle his keys away and call him a cab—but do you really want to be That Guy? 

Sweetie, I know you. You always complain about “wanting to get this crap over with and finally have a real job,” but honey, by the time you’re 30, you’ll be longing for the days when you lived with five other people and invited 200 strangers into your home every weekend to drink cheap beer out of plastic cups. Don’t even think about pulling an “Old School” though.

Since you only have a short time left as an undergrad, I’m offering you the opportunity to make a pact with me—live it up until graduation, but after that, know your role, grow up, and give me a friggin’ break! Too many people’s livers never make this offer—these people keep acting like idiots and drinking like it’s going out of style. You know what happens? Those livers start failing. So spread the word to your classmates—it’s OK to act like a reject and destroy your body if you’re in college, but once you get a real job, it’s time to settle down (at least in terms of partying) and start behaving like the rest of productive adult society. With that, I advise you to give my offer some serious consideration.

On a final note, I will uphold my end of the offer on a conditional basis. Remember your post-LSAT celebration (if you don’t, ask any one of the people you asked 15 or more times if they had any tattoos)? Do you recall going from wine to beer, then to gin, and back to beer? One more stunt like that, and the deal is off and I quit.

           

Sincerely,

                       

Your Liver