There is a very large Mulberry tree arching over the entrance to our town fishing pier. We noticed it this morning after an early morning kayak on the river. Its branches are heavy with ripe fruit. Most of us know the children’s song, "here we go round the Mulberry bush", however I doubt most of us have tasted a fresh mulberry fruit. They are much smaller than a raspberry and have a faint cherry like flavor and are reminiscent of crème de cassis. I am not sure if this was a white or black mulberry tree since the name refers to the color of the blossoms in spring time not the color of its fruit. The black variety is native to our area while the white variety is from central China.
I thought about this e blogger group out of California, called Forage Oakland, where you can give them directions to your home and they will harvest fruit or vegetables growing wild or going to waste on your property. I couldn’t help but think how grateful Alice Waters would have been, the original urban forager, for such a web site during her early days at Chez Panisse when she too scavenged the neighborhoods of the Berkeley-Oakland hills for wild rosemary, thyme, fennel, miner’s lettuce or apricots precariously dangling over a fence tempting her to bake them with the puff pastry dough chilling in the cooler back at the restaurant. I couldn’t resist either and picked 2 pints for my summer fruit cornmeal cake, a recipe I adapted from Martha Stewart’s new cupcake book. She always has recipes that work and reflect the current food trends across the country. Both of these 'Jersey girls' have forever changed the way Americans eat.
Now if only I could figure out how to snare one or perhaps two of the thousand bunnies running around town I could prepare a lovely rabbit terrine to go with a savory mulberry compote. Funny how seasonal ingredients always seem to pair up nicely together.
Mulberry Cornbread Cake Ingredients
1 ¼ C. all purpose organic flour
½ C. organic cornmeal
2 t. baking powder
1 t. salt
¾ C. sugar
½ C. buttermilk @ room temp
2 lg. eggs @room temp
1 t. vanilla
1 stick butter (8 T.) melted & @ room temp
12 oz. clean fresh mulberries
2-3 T. coarse granular sugar
Simply combine all the dry ingredients in one bowl and all the wet in another. Add wet to dry. Do not over mix. Any cake or tart pan will do. Generously sprinkle fruit on top then sugar. Bake in a preheated oven, 375 degrees for about 25 minutes.
Friday, July 3, 2009
Sunday, May 17, 2009
When French Women Cook
Madeleine Kamman’s knowing eye leaned into my beef bourguignon pot as I skimmed the foam from the edges of her brassiere. “Look how carefully she is with the ladle” she pointed out to my three female comrades in the kitchen. Another time she whispered in my ear, “Between you and me there’s too much apple left on that skin.” I was making a tart for our dessert after lunch, out on the grapevine covered veranda. When she sliced more reblochon cheese onto the top of her baked gnocchi and then turned around to look at our wide eyed faces and asked ‘Is that too much?’ In unison we answered, “no”, for we had all fallen in love with French cheese from that day forward.
Growing up, I frequently watched Madeleine Cooks, on channel 13, so you can imagine how nervous I was at the thought of spending a week with her, at her home, on the Silverado Trail, in the Napa Valley. We talked about everything from Harold McGee’s book on food chemistry to P & L statements, from marriage to menus to husbands, and so on. Her genoise, brioche and soufflé were as light as air. I ate my first duck crackling omelet with ‘persillade’ (chopped garlic and parsley, persil being the French word for parsley) and hand made Alsatian medieval bread. I also experienced one of my first most memorable American restaurant meals, at the then, “new” French Laundry. Who new it was so effortless to eat 8 courses. At night we bunked on the edge of the vineyard in Barbara Tropps’ guest cottage that embodied groovy California Zen energy. When I came home I cooked day and night, in my tiny Oakland apartment, desperately not wanting the moment in time to come to an end. Potato-cardoon gratin, braised endives, duck confit, Kabocha squash soup, saffron-anise brioche buns and pear ‘tarte tatin’ were just a few of our dinner items at the table. I had realized how little I knew about cooking and the French for that matter and how much I needed to learn as a chef. Madeleine’s’, “The Making of a Cook,” is a bible for any aspiring chef, Francophile or not.
I was thumbing through, “When French Women Cook”, Madeleine’s 3rd. cook book when this recipe caught my eye. How could I resist, Marie Charlottes huge lemon cruller? Anything remotely resembling a cream puff sounds enticing to me! The recipe also called for an ingredient I had never heard of before, candied angelica. I searched the internet and spice stores of Manhattan but came up empty handed. I found this ancient ingredient, of all places, at Market Hall, in Rockridge, (Oakland), California, my old stomping ground. Known for their meticulous sourcing of authentic goods I ordered it without hesitation, especially since it was made by the well respected, Lilamand Confiseur’s, in St. Remy, Provence, France. Over 5 generations of expertise arriving VIA UPS to my doorstep. Visually it looked like long, shiny, deep green celery stalks without the leaves attached. Initially it does taste like sweet celery with an eventual lingering lemon and liquorice flavor, which was very pleasant. Historically this medicinal herb was thought to help cure the plague in Europe. In North America the Iroquois burned it to get rid of unwanted ghosts. Although it grows wild like a weed I would imagine it was essential in most French potagers (a French family kitchen garden rich in seasonal fruits, vegetables, herbs and flowers).
Poupelain De Marie-Charlotte,
(Marie Charlottes Hugh Lemon Cruller)
1 C. water
¼ C. sugar
¼ t. salt
9 T. butter
1 C. sifted flour
5 eggs
1 C. heavy cream
Rind of 1 lemon
1 oz. candied Angelica, chopped
1½ T. dark rum
1 T. superfine sugar
Note: If you do not have candied angelica substitute some anise seeds into the heavy cream reduction.
Preheat oven to 350 degrees
Put water, 2 tablespoons sugar, salt and ½ cup diced butter in a 2 qt. saucepan. Slowly bring to a boil. As soon as the mixture foams, remove the pot from the heat and add the flour. Stir steadily to form a ball. Return the mixture to the heat. Stir 1 minute only. Do not dry the paste as you normally would for regular cream puffs. You are keeping the paste wet on purpose. If the center remains wet it will absorb the cream easily and finally taste like a pastry cream. Add the eggs, lightly beaten, one by one. Mix until smooth.
Grease a 10 inch quiche pan with the remaining butter and fill the pan with the paste. Bake for 50-55 minutes.
Pour I cup heavy cream into a 1 qt. saucepan. Add 2 spoons of sugar and the rind of a lemon. Stir occasionally and reduce to ½ - 1/3 cup. Add the rum.
As soon as the cake is done it will look like a giant cream puff. Cut the top off in one single layer as to make a lid. While the cake is hot, spoon the cream into the soft, wet center. Sprinkle with diced candied angelica and put the cake cover back on. Brush whatever cream is still on the sides and bottom of the pan onto the lid of the cake. Sprinkle with superfine sugar and broil on minute. Or you can just dust with confectioners’ sugar. The cake should be enjoyed lukewarm. You may garnish with more diced angelica if you prefer to.
Growing up, I frequently watched Madeleine Cooks, on channel 13, so you can imagine how nervous I was at the thought of spending a week with her, at her home, on the Silverado Trail, in the Napa Valley. We talked about everything from Harold McGee’s book on food chemistry to P & L statements, from marriage to menus to husbands, and so on. Her genoise, brioche and soufflé were as light as air. I ate my first duck crackling omelet with ‘persillade’ (chopped garlic and parsley, persil being the French word for parsley) and hand made Alsatian medieval bread. I also experienced one of my first most memorable American restaurant meals, at the then, “new” French Laundry. Who new it was so effortless to eat 8 courses. At night we bunked on the edge of the vineyard in Barbara Tropps’ guest cottage that embodied groovy California Zen energy. When I came home I cooked day and night, in my tiny Oakland apartment, desperately not wanting the moment in time to come to an end. Potato-cardoon gratin, braised endives, duck confit, Kabocha squash soup, saffron-anise brioche buns and pear ‘tarte tatin’ were just a few of our dinner items at the table. I had realized how little I knew about cooking and the French for that matter and how much I needed to learn as a chef. Madeleine’s’, “The Making of a Cook,” is a bible for any aspiring chef, Francophile or not.
I was thumbing through, “When French Women Cook”, Madeleine’s 3rd. cook book when this recipe caught my eye. How could I resist, Marie Charlottes huge lemon cruller? Anything remotely resembling a cream puff sounds enticing to me! The recipe also called for an ingredient I had never heard of before, candied angelica. I searched the internet and spice stores of Manhattan but came up empty handed. I found this ancient ingredient, of all places, at Market Hall, in Rockridge, (Oakland), California, my old stomping ground. Known for their meticulous sourcing of authentic goods I ordered it without hesitation, especially since it was made by the well respected, Lilamand Confiseur’s, in St. Remy, Provence, France. Over 5 generations of expertise arriving VIA UPS to my doorstep. Visually it looked like long, shiny, deep green celery stalks without the leaves attached. Initially it does taste like sweet celery with an eventual lingering lemon and liquorice flavor, which was very pleasant. Historically this medicinal herb was thought to help cure the plague in Europe. In North America the Iroquois burned it to get rid of unwanted ghosts. Although it grows wild like a weed I would imagine it was essential in most French potagers (a French family kitchen garden rich in seasonal fruits, vegetables, herbs and flowers).
Poupelain De Marie-Charlotte,
(Marie Charlottes Hugh Lemon Cruller)
1 C. water
¼ C. sugar
¼ t. salt
9 T. butter
1 C. sifted flour
5 eggs
1 C. heavy cream
Rind of 1 lemon
1 oz. candied Angelica, chopped
1½ T. dark rum
1 T. superfine sugar
Note: If you do not have candied angelica substitute some anise seeds into the heavy cream reduction.
Preheat oven to 350 degrees
Put water, 2 tablespoons sugar, salt and ½ cup diced butter in a 2 qt. saucepan. Slowly bring to a boil. As soon as the mixture foams, remove the pot from the heat and add the flour. Stir steadily to form a ball. Return the mixture to the heat. Stir 1 minute only. Do not dry the paste as you normally would for regular cream puffs. You are keeping the paste wet on purpose. If the center remains wet it will absorb the cream easily and finally taste like a pastry cream. Add the eggs, lightly beaten, one by one. Mix until smooth.
Grease a 10 inch quiche pan with the remaining butter and fill the pan with the paste. Bake for 50-55 minutes.
Pour I cup heavy cream into a 1 qt. saucepan. Add 2 spoons of sugar and the rind of a lemon. Stir occasionally and reduce to ½ - 1/3 cup. Add the rum.
As soon as the cake is done it will look like a giant cream puff. Cut the top off in one single layer as to make a lid. While the cake is hot, spoon the cream into the soft, wet center. Sprinkle with diced candied angelica and put the cake cover back on. Brush whatever cream is still on the sides and bottom of the pan onto the lid of the cake. Sprinkle with superfine sugar and broil on minute. Or you can just dust with confectioners’ sugar. The cake should be enjoyed lukewarm. You may garnish with more diced angelica if you prefer to.
Friday, April 17, 2009
The First of Many Fish Tales
I am sitting at my kitchen table surfing the net, answering email and pondering about my next blog post when there’s a knock at the door. It’s Patsy, my next door neighbor, dressed in standard fisherman’s rain gear so I know this is going to be good. He tells me to get off the computer and go grab my filleting knife. I have an impressive scimitar I purchased, many, many years ago, specifically for filleting large whole fish, a daily ritual, in every good restaurant kitchen. There is something very peaceful, satisfying and artful about the act of cleaning a fish. It requires patience and skill. Or perhaps the cooks are wise enough not to bother the chef who has a 24 inch Arabian sword, double edge, sharp enough to glide through skin, flesh and bone. I love this primeval aspect of being a chef; sword, bones, fire, water, earth.
One of the many benefits of nose to tail eating is the extra bits and pieces you normally don’t get or even see, not even at a good fishmongers. The collars are a delicate treat simply roasted with good extra virgin olive oil (XVOO) and sea salt. The Japanese have long been hip to this. Don’t forget the liver which could be salt cured, in many fish. The Sicilians grate sun dried bottarga over pasta. You can also carefully fillet off scrap meat from the spine and make your kids (or yourself ) some real fried fish sticks. Then there is always fish stock to make and freeze from the bones when needed for that soup or risotto in the near future. I like to go to the town fishing pier to clean my seafood for the less obvious reason. Everything we don’t eat gets thrown back into the river, so the bones or shells continue on down the food chain as they should. Nothing is wasted. The gulls are hovering over our heads. Back to my fish……..
Patsy has a fishing boat he launches from the shore of the Navesink River, down the road. Its striper season and he has 2 beauties in the hull of the bow of his boat. I always get the second fish. It has beautiful smoky silver and black amour. The scales have hints of lavender and a luminous shade of green moss which almost looks golden under the dull light on this gray day. I curiously open the fish’s mouth and its gills heave its’ last few breaths. He tells me he caught them near the shallow coastal waters. Stripers are anadromous by nature, like salmon or shad, migrating from the ocean to brackish waters when spawning.
As we eat the fish I am thankful for what this early spring brings to our table. At the beginning of yet another fishing season here on the river. I can’t help myself and think of all the clams, blue crabs, weakfish (sea trout) and more stripers to come. I always reciprocate by sharing my baked goods from my endless recipe testing. A perfectly symbiotic relationship; a fisherman who prefers chicken who has a sweet tooth and a chef without a restaurant who loves to cook and eat everything local and in season.
Simple Fried Fish Sticks
Any good fresh white fish will work, cut into strips, not more than ½ inch thickness
1 egg, lightly beaten
all purpose flour
Panko Japanese bread crumbs
sea salt
3-4 T. XVOO
1 T. butter
Method
Pat the fish dry with a paper towel and season lightly with sea salt. Dredge in flour, then the egg, finally bread crumbs. That’s it. Heat your pan up. Add XVOO and the butter. Cook until golden brown. These are so crunchy and delicious you don’t even need tartar or remoulade sauce.
Enjoy!
One of the many benefits of nose to tail eating is the extra bits and pieces you normally don’t get or even see, not even at a good fishmongers. The collars are a delicate treat simply roasted with good extra virgin olive oil (XVOO) and sea salt. The Japanese have long been hip to this. Don’t forget the liver which could be salt cured, in many fish. The Sicilians grate sun dried bottarga over pasta. You can also carefully fillet off scrap meat from the spine and make your kids (or yourself ) some real fried fish sticks. Then there is always fish stock to make and freeze from the bones when needed for that soup or risotto in the near future. I like to go to the town fishing pier to clean my seafood for the less obvious reason. Everything we don’t eat gets thrown back into the river, so the bones or shells continue on down the food chain as they should. Nothing is wasted. The gulls are hovering over our heads. Back to my fish……..
Patsy has a fishing boat he launches from the shore of the Navesink River, down the road. Its striper season and he has 2 beauties in the hull of the bow of his boat. I always get the second fish. It has beautiful smoky silver and black amour. The scales have hints of lavender and a luminous shade of green moss which almost looks golden under the dull light on this gray day. I curiously open the fish’s mouth and its gills heave its’ last few breaths. He tells me he caught them near the shallow coastal waters. Stripers are anadromous by nature, like salmon or shad, migrating from the ocean to brackish waters when spawning.
As we eat the fish I am thankful for what this early spring brings to our table. At the beginning of yet another fishing season here on the river. I can’t help myself and think of all the clams, blue crabs, weakfish (sea trout) and more stripers to come. I always reciprocate by sharing my baked goods from my endless recipe testing. A perfectly symbiotic relationship; a fisherman who prefers chicken who has a sweet tooth and a chef without a restaurant who loves to cook and eat everything local and in season.
Simple Fried Fish Sticks
Any good fresh white fish will work, cut into strips, not more than ½ inch thickness
1 egg, lightly beaten
all purpose flour
Panko Japanese bread crumbs
sea salt
3-4 T. XVOO
1 T. butter
Method
Pat the fish dry with a paper towel and season lightly with sea salt. Dredge in flour, then the egg, finally bread crumbs. That’s it. Heat your pan up. Add XVOO and the butter. Cook until golden brown. These are so crunchy and delicious you don’t even need tartar or remoulade sauce.
Enjoy!
Saturday, April 11, 2009
Hot Cross Buns for Easter Sunday
I don’t know about you but Easter snuck up on me. The onion grass and Magnolia buds in my front yard, first signals of spring’s arrival, reminded me it was time for an egg hunt. I knew it was around the corner when a case of Chateau d’ Oupia, Minervois, 2008, arrived in our wine cellar( a well traveled, clunky, southwestern armoire, VIA the Santa Fe trail, now and forever in our basement). Along with some verdant poached asparagus and golden pan fried lemon ricotta fritters, Frances’ electric pink rose, woke up our dinner table.
On a holiday weekend there is nothing more wonderful and appreciated as celebratory sweet bread. My family tradition, originated with Mamie’s prune coffee cake, made from a potato enriched leavened dough. It was crescent shaped, and snipped with a kitchen scissor every couple of inches, so the sticky prune filling caramelized slightly as it baked. A simple sugar icing perfected my grandmothers Christmas treat.
I have not eaten or made hot cross buns before so I decided it was about time to prepare these pre Christian Pagan treats. The British Isles claim this spiced bun, further exalted by a children’s nursery rhyme. I adapted, simplified and economized on a recipe from the British domestic goddess, Nigella Lawson. This sticky English situation was in need of a little American ingenuity. There are numerous variations on how one should make the actual cross on the bun, a later symbol of Christ’s crucifixion. The most commonly accepted technique is to first mark with a knife and then drizzle on a paste made with flour, water and sugar prior to baking. I think it is best to bake the buns today so you can stash a few for Easter Sunday to have with a generous pot of tea and a soft boiled egg. Oh how terribly English!
Recipe for Hot Cross Buns
2/3 C. whole milk
2 oz. very soft butter
2 tsp. active dry yeast
¼ C. sugar
1 organic egg
3 c. bread flour
Zest of 1 orange
¼ C. currants
¼ C. diced dried apricot
1 tsp. ground cinnamon
½ tsp. ground nutmeg
¼ tsp. ground ginger
¼ t. powdered cardamom
1/8 t. clove
1 tsp. salt
Egg wash is 1 egg beaten with a little milk
For the crosses on the buns, make a thick paste from;
3 T. flour
2 T. water
2 tsp. sugar
For the sugar glaze
Confectioner’s sugar
Orange juice
Method
In the kitchen aide mixing bowl pour the warm milk, add yeast, sugar and allow to bloom for 15 minutes. Add all of the remaining ingredients in order, always placing the salt last, on top of the flour as not to disturb the yeast activity. Beat until combined using the paddle attachment. Thoroughly knead the dough on a floured work surface. Place back in the mixer bowl, cover and let it rise in a warm place. This dense dough will take a bit of time to double in size. Next divide dough into 16 small round rolls careful not to extinguish all the air. Mark with an x with the dull side of a knife. Cover again and allow to rise and double in size. Finally glaze with the egg wash then apply paste on your cross marks. Bake at 375 until a rich golden brown. Once slightly cooled apply the confectioners sugar.
On a holiday weekend there is nothing more wonderful and appreciated as celebratory sweet bread. My family tradition, originated with Mamie’s prune coffee cake, made from a potato enriched leavened dough. It was crescent shaped, and snipped with a kitchen scissor every couple of inches, so the sticky prune filling caramelized slightly as it baked. A simple sugar icing perfected my grandmothers Christmas treat.
I have not eaten or made hot cross buns before so I decided it was about time to prepare these pre Christian Pagan treats. The British Isles claim this spiced bun, further exalted by a children’s nursery rhyme. I adapted, simplified and economized on a recipe from the British domestic goddess, Nigella Lawson. This sticky English situation was in need of a little American ingenuity. There are numerous variations on how one should make the actual cross on the bun, a later symbol of Christ’s crucifixion. The most commonly accepted technique is to first mark with a knife and then drizzle on a paste made with flour, water and sugar prior to baking. I think it is best to bake the buns today so you can stash a few for Easter Sunday to have with a generous pot of tea and a soft boiled egg. Oh how terribly English!
Recipe for Hot Cross Buns
2/3 C. whole milk
2 oz. very soft butter
2 tsp. active dry yeast
¼ C. sugar
1 organic egg
3 c. bread flour
Zest of 1 orange
¼ C. currants
¼ C. diced dried apricot
1 tsp. ground cinnamon
½ tsp. ground nutmeg
¼ tsp. ground ginger
¼ t. powdered cardamom
1/8 t. clove
1 tsp. salt
Egg wash is 1 egg beaten with a little milk
For the crosses on the buns, make a thick paste from;
3 T. flour
2 T. water
2 tsp. sugar
For the sugar glaze
Confectioner’s sugar
Orange juice
Method
In the kitchen aide mixing bowl pour the warm milk, add yeast, sugar and allow to bloom for 15 minutes. Add all of the remaining ingredients in order, always placing the salt last, on top of the flour as not to disturb the yeast activity. Beat until combined using the paddle attachment. Thoroughly knead the dough on a floured work surface. Place back in the mixer bowl, cover and let it rise in a warm place. This dense dough will take a bit of time to double in size. Next divide dough into 16 small round rolls careful not to extinguish all the air. Mark with an x with the dull side of a knife. Cover again and allow to rise and double in size. Finally glaze with the egg wash then apply paste on your cross marks. Bake at 375 until a rich golden brown. Once slightly cooled apply the confectioners sugar.
Friday, March 27, 2009
Weekend Oysters and My Favorite Poached Eggs
I always order oysters and a glass of champagne while dining out with my husband in the city. Although these beautiful luscious bi valves are one of my favorite foods on earth that is not my gustatory motivation. It’s more along the lines of self preservation, staving off starvation and my immediate pending thirst for the grape. My husband reads the wine list like it’s the Sunday NY Times, as if we have all the time in the world. He just can’t help himself. He’s at the top of the heap in the wine industry. So I get the bartender and waiter working for me right away while he peruses the list for the next 20 minutes. A dozen oysters please. I just can’t sit at a table for that long with mere bread and water. This also gives me time to sit back and check out every detail of the front of the house, which is actually good sport for a restaurateur, while slurping oysters and sipping champagne. Now that’s entertainment!
Sunday has always been a family day for me. I suppose it is part of growing up a good Roman Catholic Irish girl. My Mom always had her pressure cooker going on Sunday. I walked by that spitting piston, steaming on top of the stove, on my tippy toes, face turned away, thinking it would explode at any moment and kill us all. On our birthdays she would prepare our favorite meal of choice. In the dead of winter, I always asked her for Hungarian Goulash, over buttered egg noodles, from the infamous pressure cooker. A devil’s food 3 layer cake with vanilla butter cream was my idea of a birthday cake. My all time favorite Sunday meal, for breakfast, lunch or dinner is a potato gallette, crisp bacon, poached egg and braised leeks with thyme. That’s it. That’s all I need to be happy!
Potato Galette, Poached Egg, Crisp Bacon & Braised Leeks with Thyme
(Occasionally my husband makes this and he always manages to include bacon, however I am just as happy without. We prefer Nueske apple wood bacon or D’Artagnan’s heritage breed, nitrate free bacon. )
Ingredients
1 large peeled, grated russet potato per person
Crispy cooked bacon strips
1 Bunch of leeks, cut into half moons, soaked, rinsed and drained
Thyme leaves
Butter
Olive oil
Sea salt
Freshly Ground black pepper
Eggs
Sauté the leeks in butter & olive oil over low heat. Eventually, I add a little bit of water to keep them from browning. Season and add thyme. Turn off heat and set aside. Reheat with a good dab of butter and a little water if needed. You can make individual galettes or a thicker family style one depending on what size cast iron skillet you have, a must for success. If you are making a larger one it has to finish cooking in the oven whereas the smaller ones don’t. I prefer the individual gallette which has more crispy burnt edges. Keep them warm on a sheet pan in the oven as you make more. Heat your skillet on the stove top over low heat. No oil yet. Peel, then grate potato. With your hands, squeeze all of the water out. Add a very generous pour of oil into the pan then add grated potato. Flatten it out with your spatula, season. Flip it. You want a very dark, golden brown potato cake. Add more oil if you need it. Now poach your eggs and fry the bacon. Enjoy!
After your leisurely Sunday Brunch……… you are now completely capable of leaving the house, for a civilized stroll down your street, catch up with the neighbors or just meander along, peacefully. Sometimes you just need a lazy, quiet weekend!
Sunday has always been a family day for me. I suppose it is part of growing up a good Roman Catholic Irish girl. My Mom always had her pressure cooker going on Sunday. I walked by that spitting piston, steaming on top of the stove, on my tippy toes, face turned away, thinking it would explode at any moment and kill us all. On our birthdays she would prepare our favorite meal of choice. In the dead of winter, I always asked her for Hungarian Goulash, over buttered egg noodles, from the infamous pressure cooker. A devil’s food 3 layer cake with vanilla butter cream was my idea of a birthday cake. My all time favorite Sunday meal, for breakfast, lunch or dinner is a potato gallette, crisp bacon, poached egg and braised leeks with thyme. That’s it. That’s all I need to be happy!
Potato Galette, Poached Egg, Crisp Bacon & Braised Leeks with Thyme
(Occasionally my husband makes this and he always manages to include bacon, however I am just as happy without. We prefer Nueske apple wood bacon or D’Artagnan’s heritage breed, nitrate free bacon. )
Ingredients
1 large peeled, grated russet potato per person
Crispy cooked bacon strips
1 Bunch of leeks, cut into half moons, soaked, rinsed and drained
Thyme leaves
Butter
Olive oil
Sea salt
Freshly Ground black pepper
Eggs
Sauté the leeks in butter & olive oil over low heat. Eventually, I add a little bit of water to keep them from browning. Season and add thyme. Turn off heat and set aside. Reheat with a good dab of butter and a little water if needed. You can make individual galettes or a thicker family style one depending on what size cast iron skillet you have, a must for success. If you are making a larger one it has to finish cooking in the oven whereas the smaller ones don’t. I prefer the individual gallette which has more crispy burnt edges. Keep them warm on a sheet pan in the oven as you make more. Heat your skillet on the stove top over low heat. No oil yet. Peel, then grate potato. With your hands, squeeze all of the water out. Add a very generous pour of oil into the pan then add grated potato. Flatten it out with your spatula, season. Flip it. You want a very dark, golden brown potato cake. Add more oil if you need it. Now poach your eggs and fry the bacon. Enjoy!
After your leisurely Sunday Brunch……… you are now completely capable of leaving the house, for a civilized stroll down your street, catch up with the neighbors or just meander along, peacefully. Sometimes you just need a lazy, quiet weekend!
Sunday, March 15, 2009
Garbure & the Parisian Grocers Radish Soup
GARBURE is the original French comfort food. It is a thick, hearty peasant soup from Gascony, in SW France. Typically it has bacon or preserved meat, such as goose, cabbage, legumes, dried or fresh and other seasonal vegetables. Frequently, a meal would end with a traditional Chabrot, the pouring of wine into the remaining broth in your bowl or the soup tureen. I would assume now is the time for the stale bread.
Garbure is a spring cleaning for your fridge. Fill your brassiere up once more and then put it to rest. It will soon be time for green crisp lettuces, fresh herb vinaigrettes, sweet peas, prickly artichokes, nutty fava beans and so much more. The magazines, email alerts and food sections are alarming me with photos yet to appear in my local market. Meanwhile cleanse your fridge and yourself in preparation for the green season. It’s time for a Garbure cleanse. I took the last of everything I could get my hands on. Half a head of cabbage, a few carrots, an onion, 3 celery stalks, 6 small potatoes, sprigs of thyme, cloves of garlic, 2 strips of bacon in the freezer along with a small container of home made chicken stock, a splash of leftover white wine. I also added 2 firm pears, seeded and quartered, parsley, rosemary and a bay leaf. I cleared out the last refrigerator draw. Don’t forget the bread box. Take those last few ends and put them in the toaster, rub with garlic and drizzle with your best extra virgin olive oil. Where is that sliver of cheese hiding?
Radishes are one of a gardeners first signs of spring. They grow quickly in the cold nights and sunny brisk days. Once you have eaten the peppery, crisp tubers, fresh from the earth, you will be leery of the sad lifeless grocery store variety found throughout the rest of the year. Since the ground is too hard to plant right now I decided to take a trip to the restaurant supply store and get some shallow bus tubs in lieu of planting beds, which my dogs would have used as bark-o-loungers, and start my spring garden on this blue sky day. I can’t decide which is more costly, a trip to the restaurant supply or Nordstrom’s shoe department. I am going to plant 3 varieties, my favorite, French Breakfast radishes, Sparkler White Tip and Cherry Belle. In 3 weeks I’ll have a crop. The French believe spring radishes are best eaten with good sea salt and butter on a baguette. I get out my truffle slicer, which is unfortunately under used for its sole purpose in life, and shave them all over my goat cheese and walnut salad. This is a heavenly sight to me; pink, red, white and lavender paper thin, laced slices on my green leaves. Since I am talking about radishes I have to include my other great love, anchovies, which are like 2 peas in a pod. Nothing could be simpler and more satisfying; grilled garlic bread, little swimmers & radishes. I found beautiful organic Easter egg radishes at Sickles Market. The leaves were so fresh it made me think about this recipe for cream of radish leaf soup. “Parisian, Home Cooking”, by Michael Roberts. It is a 10+ year old book that includes conversations, recipes and tips from the cooks and food merchants of Paris. Here is my adaptation. This soup can be prepared and enjoyed in less than a half hour. Even though some radishes may be peppery it does result in a milder taste. If you are not in love with radishes you could always substitute watercress, arugula, your favorite salad greens, celery leaves, some carrot tops or a mix of herds like parsley, tarragon, chives, chervil, cilantro…..Use your imagination. Hot or chilled this soup is simple to make and healthy to eat!
Soup aux Fanes de Radis/Cream of Radish Leaf Soup
2 bunches of radishes, chopped, reserve a couple for garnish, rinse leaves
2 T. butter + 1 T. XVOO
1 large leek, chopped, rinsed well, tender parts only
1 bay leaf
½ celery stalk, left whole
4 C. purified water
1 1/2 C. diced, peeled, red potatoes
2 dollops crème fraiche or sour cream + a squeeze of lemon juice
S & P
Garnish
2-3 shaved radishes, fresh parsley, chive, celery heart leaves or chervil, drizzle of XVOO, sea salt & pepper.
Soften the leeks and radishes in butter but do not brown them. Add the water, potatoes, celery stalk and bay leaf. Season and bring to a gentle boil. Cook for 10-15 minutes, add the radish leaves and turn off the heat. Puree the soup, (careful not to overdue this step) season and whisk in the crème fraiche.
Au revoir gray winter, spring is here at last!
Garbure is a spring cleaning for your fridge. Fill your brassiere up once more and then put it to rest. It will soon be time for green crisp lettuces, fresh herb vinaigrettes, sweet peas, prickly artichokes, nutty fava beans and so much more. The magazines, email alerts and food sections are alarming me with photos yet to appear in my local market. Meanwhile cleanse your fridge and yourself in preparation for the green season. It’s time for a Garbure cleanse. I took the last of everything I could get my hands on. Half a head of cabbage, a few carrots, an onion, 3 celery stalks, 6 small potatoes, sprigs of thyme, cloves of garlic, 2 strips of bacon in the freezer along with a small container of home made chicken stock, a splash of leftover white wine. I also added 2 firm pears, seeded and quartered, parsley, rosemary and a bay leaf. I cleared out the last refrigerator draw. Don’t forget the bread box. Take those last few ends and put them in the toaster, rub with garlic and drizzle with your best extra virgin olive oil. Where is that sliver of cheese hiding?
Radishes are one of a gardeners first signs of spring. They grow quickly in the cold nights and sunny brisk days. Once you have eaten the peppery, crisp tubers, fresh from the earth, you will be leery of the sad lifeless grocery store variety found throughout the rest of the year. Since the ground is too hard to plant right now I decided to take a trip to the restaurant supply store and get some shallow bus tubs in lieu of planting beds, which my dogs would have used as bark-o-loungers, and start my spring garden on this blue sky day. I can’t decide which is more costly, a trip to the restaurant supply or Nordstrom’s shoe department. I am going to plant 3 varieties, my favorite, French Breakfast radishes, Sparkler White Tip and Cherry Belle. In 3 weeks I’ll have a crop. The French believe spring radishes are best eaten with good sea salt and butter on a baguette. I get out my truffle slicer, which is unfortunately under used for its sole purpose in life, and shave them all over my goat cheese and walnut salad. This is a heavenly sight to me; pink, red, white and lavender paper thin, laced slices on my green leaves. Since I am talking about radishes I have to include my other great love, anchovies, which are like 2 peas in a pod. Nothing could be simpler and more satisfying; grilled garlic bread, little swimmers & radishes. I found beautiful organic Easter egg radishes at Sickles Market. The leaves were so fresh it made me think about this recipe for cream of radish leaf soup. “Parisian, Home Cooking”, by Michael Roberts. It is a 10+ year old book that includes conversations, recipes and tips from the cooks and food merchants of Paris. Here is my adaptation. This soup can be prepared and enjoyed in less than a half hour. Even though some radishes may be peppery it does result in a milder taste. If you are not in love with radishes you could always substitute watercress, arugula, your favorite salad greens, celery leaves, some carrot tops or a mix of herds like parsley, tarragon, chives, chervil, cilantro…..Use your imagination. Hot or chilled this soup is simple to make and healthy to eat!
Soup aux Fanes de Radis/Cream of Radish Leaf Soup
2 bunches of radishes, chopped, reserve a couple for garnish, rinse leaves
2 T. butter + 1 T. XVOO
1 large leek, chopped, rinsed well, tender parts only
1 bay leaf
½ celery stalk, left whole
4 C. purified water
1 1/2 C. diced, peeled, red potatoes
2 dollops crème fraiche or sour cream + a squeeze of lemon juice
S & P
Garnish
2-3 shaved radishes, fresh parsley, chive, celery heart leaves or chervil, drizzle of XVOO, sea salt & pepper.
Soften the leeks and radishes in butter but do not brown them. Add the water, potatoes, celery stalk and bay leaf. Season and bring to a gentle boil. Cook for 10-15 minutes, add the radish leaves and turn off the heat. Puree the soup, (careful not to overdue this step) season and whisk in the crème fraiche.
Au revoir gray winter, spring is here at last!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
