Tripolina Lunga with Smoked Turkey Sausage, Beans & Mascarpone

Let’s talk about starch, baby. Let’s talk about you and me. Let’s talk about all the good things and the bad things that beans can be. Let’s talk about starch.

Well, something like that. One of my favourite things growing up was a simple bowl of beans and wieners, and if there was heavily buttered toast on the side so much the better. Beans and wieners, back then I couldn’t think of anything more perfectly balanced. The starchy beans, sweet tomato gravy and salty diced hot dogs, man, add buttery toast and you have another level of balance with crunchy and soft. Eve had the chance back in the day to take this to Adam, she chose the apple because it was easier to carry. To this day this is still a comfort meal “go-to”, definitely up there with process cheese open-face sandwiches. I find it funny that as a comfort staple it always involves the extra work of a special trip to the corner store because we don’t keep hot dogs or white sandwich bread in our pantry. It’s good to get out, I guess. James Beard wrote that he loved beans “in all their colours, shapes, and varieties.” He loved them hot and cold, calling them an “all season food” (Beard on Food. Bean Salads for all Seasons, pg 109. James Beard). Hear hear.

All of this swirled around my head, like a forkful of wiener shovel scooping up beans, when I was trying to come up with a dinner the day before Thanksgiving. I didn’t want to make something too difficult, and comforting was without doubt forefront in my mind. I was easing my self into the next day’s meal that would take me the better part of a day to prepare. I remembered a recipe based on a Genoean pasta dish that used orecchiette and sausage. When I originally saw it I couldn't get it out of my head for well over a week. It is one of those dishes that could be recreated with any number of pastas and sausages. It sat there in the back of my head bubbling away until we were at the market on a Saturday and stopped by El Gaucho Chorizos to pick up some apple sausage for my Thanksgiving day stuffing. When looking through the display case at all those sausages I spotted the smoked turkey sausage and thought about how well that smoky flavour would mix with the starchiness of the beans. Instead of orecchiette we went with a classy ruffled-shaped fettuccine called tripolina lunga. I knew the combination would make a meal that would be both beautiful and delicious and would take me back to that time when beans and wieners were all you needed to decompress. Guess what? I was right. Hope you like it. Serve it forth with crusty garlic bread.


TRIPOLINA LUNGA WITH SMOKED TURKEY SAUSAGE, NAVY BEANS, & MASCARPONE

Ingredients
½ lb Tripolina Lunga
½ lb smoked turkey sausage, casing removed
2 tbsp olive oil
1 small onion, diced
1 (19oz) can navy beans, drained and rinsed
2 tbsp chopped fresh oregano leaves (save some tiny leaves to sprinkle over he finished dish)
½ c mascarpone cheese
1 tsp sea salt
½ tsp freshly ground black pepper

Method
1. Boil a large pot of salted water. Add the tripolina lunga and cook according to the directions (between 6-8 min). Drain the pasta but reserve 1 cup of the cooking liquid.

2. In a large skillet warm the olive oil over medium-high heat. Add the smoked sausage and diced onions. As the sausage browns break it into smaller pieces. Once the sausage is golden brown and the onions are translucent add the beans and oregano and cook for 2 more minutes.

3. Add the cup of reserved cooking liquid and scrape up the delicious brown bits from the bottom of the pan. Add the mascarpone cheese and stir until it dissolves into a light sauce. Season with salt & pepper. Toss in the hot tripolina lunga. Stir until coated and serve.

Mixed Mushroom & Goat Cheese Phyllo Triangles

MIXED MUSHROOM & GOAT CHEESE

Ingredients
8 oz mushrooms (I used an equal mix of Shiitake, Cremini, and Chanterelle)
2 tbsp unsalted butter
1 small onion, finely chopped
2 cloves garlic, minced
1 tbsp finely chopped fresh sage
2 tbsp finely chopped fresh rosemary
2 tbsp finely chopped chives
1 tsp finely ground long pepper
¼ tsp fleur de sel
6 oz goat cheese

Method
1. Cut the mushroom caps in half and then into ¼ inch slices (throw the stems in the green bin).

2. Heat the butter in a skillet over medium heat. Just as it begins to brown add the onions and garlic. When they get soft (around 4 minutes) add the fresh sage, rosemary, and long pepper. Stir and give these aromatics time to meet and mingle, just a couple of minutes. Stir in the mushrooms and let them get all wilted (5-6 minutes), they’ll reduce in size and but get concentrated in flavour, especially with those herbs.

3. Crumble the goat cheese in a medium bowl and pour the mushroom mix on top. Stir together so that the cheese melts. When fully combined allow to cool.



MIXED MUSHROOM & GOAT CHEESE PHYLLO TRIANGLES

Ingredients
1 stick unsalted butter
6 sheets phyllo dough
Mixed Mushroom & Goat Cheese filling (recipe above)

Method
1. Put a small pot over low heat and melt the unsalted butter. Remove any butter solids that rise to the surface.

2. Brush the top of 1 sheet of phyllo with the melted butter and top it with a second sheet. Cut this double thick sheet lengthwise into four equal strips. Repeat with the remaining 4 phyllo sheets.

3. Put a heaping teaspoon of the filling on the end of one of the phyllo strips. Fold the phyllo edge over the filling to form a triangle, then continue to fold back and forth until the whole strip is used. Repeat with the remaining strips.

4. Preheat the oven to 400°C (200°F / Gas mark 6). Bake for 10 minutes or until nicely golden. Serve right away.


N.B. - The uncooked triangles can be kept in your freezer for up to 2 weeks. If you have done them in advance bake them from frozen at 400°C (200°F / Gas mark 6) for 15 minutes.

Zwiebelrostbraten (Steak & Fried Onions)

Dinner for me in the late sixties and early seventies tended to be pretty straight forward Scottish fare. Both my parents being from Glasgow meant meals were usually mince with curry, shepherd's pie, steak & kidney pie, bubble & squeak, gammon & eggs, etc. We lived in Canada but the food remained from my parent’s homeland. So, it was with complete surprise and wonder, when some time around 1972, I was presented with crisp corn tortilla shells, seasoned ground beef, vegetables, and some spicy tomato sauce called salsa. The flavours were so different, so clean, spicy and tart. I loved it, I begged for it weekly until my parents got sick of making it.

That dinner was so memorable, though, that they continued to try new dishes. When my mother first prepared chicken fricassee I couldn’t get enough. That gravy alone, some sort of heavenly creation, was a particular favourite. Salty and rich, spooned liberally over my rice, to this day one of my all time favourite meals. Each new dish made me want to try more. My first dim sum meal, my first gyros from Gus’s, my first taste of lassi, or tandoori chicken. It goes on and on.

There is an element of revelation in another country’s cuisine. Unfamiliar combinations of flavours that captures your imagination, or sometimes, familiar flavours presented in a new way. Every now and then I get the urge to try and find that new dish that I’ve never heard of yet and make them for L (remember my Chicken Adobo?). Lately, I’ve been thinking of preparing zwiebelrostbraten. It’s an Austrian dish of fried onions and rib-eye steak, served with sautéed new potatoes (or roestkartoffel). It is one of those recipes that when I first laid eyes on it I knew it was going to be good. Steak coated in mustard, dusted with flour and fried, I mean, come on. Just that should be getting your taste buds tingling. It was quite easy to make as well, even with my tiny stove and my limited skill.

As far as I can tell, the only difference between my recipe and a traditional version is that I didn’t hammer my steak flat. The idea is to hammer your meat to a thickness of about 1 cm. The meat I got seemed thin enough for me (about 2-2.5 cm) and ended up perfectly cooked anyway. Apparently, other than the potatoes, a pickled cucumber and a spoonful of mustard is served with this Austrian dish, I settled for some sour cream.


ZWIEBELROSTBRATEN (Steak & Fried Onions)

FRIED ONIONS (Roest Zwiebel)

Ingredients
1 onion, thinly sliced
½ cup flour
¼ cup smoked paprika
cumin
sea salt
vegetable oil

Method
1. Preheat oil in a pan to 325°F.

2. In a bowl, toss the onions with flour and most of the paprika. Shake off excess flour and fry the onions until golden brown. Put them on paper towel and season with a little salt, cumin & more paprika. After about 5 minutes move to fresh paper towel and repeat after another 5 minutes. Put in the oven at the lowest setting and forget about them for about an hour or so (or until you need them).


RIB-EYE STEAK (Rostbraten)

Ingredients
2 organic rib eye steaks (about 8 oz each)
2 tbsp each Dijon mustard
2 tbsp peanut oil
2+1 tbsp butter (chill the 2 tbsp)
2 tablespoons balsamic vinegar
½ cup beef stock
(veal demi-glace, optional)
¼ cup mixed herbs, like parsley, tarragon and chives (keep some chives aside for sprinkling at the end)
sea salt & freshly ground black pepper


Method
1. Salt and pepper the steaks. Thinly coat one side of each of the steaks with mustard and lightly flour the same side. In a large skillet, heat the peanut oil and the 1 tablespoon of butter. When the pan is hot fry the steak, flour side down first, for about 2 minutes or until golden brown. Turn over meat and sauté for another 2 minutes. Meat should be medium-rare. When done, remove to a plate and keep warm in the oven at the lowest setting.

2. Deglaze pan with balsamic vinegar and beef stock (and demi-glace if you decided to use it). Reduce by half.

3. Finish sauce by whisking in the remaining (chilled) 2 tablespoons of butter and the minced herbs.


FRIED NEW POTATOES WITH CHIVES & SOUR CREAM

Ingredients
1 cup new potatoes, peeled and halved
1 tbsp finely diced chives
sea salt & freshly ground black pepper
duck fat (or bacon fat, or olive oil, or peanut oil)

sour cream (to serve)

Method
1. Place potatoes in a large pot and cover with cold water by an inch. Put over high heat and when it reaches a boil, turn down to a simmer until cooked (about 15 - 20 minutes). Drain and put aside.

2. Heat the duck fat (or whatever fat/oil you are using) in a skillet. Put the potatoes in and leave them alone for a while until they start to brown, about 3 minutes or so. Flip them and leave them again.

3. While they cook put the chives and a little sea salt in a bowl. When the potatoes are browned on a couple of sides remove to the bowl and toss with the chives and salt.

4. Taste and season with sea salt & freshly ground pepper. Serve with a side of sour cream with a sprinkle of chives.

Pan Haggerty

It’s Sunday morning and L has gone out with some of her friends. I’m left on my own for a chunk of the day. Last night we went out to a Roller Derby bout, Toronto Roller Derby’s Gold Digger Grudge Match between the Bay Street Bruisers and the Chicks Ahoy!. We had an absolute blast but I think I might have overdid it a bit with the alcohol (come to think of it this whole week was a bit of a boozy-binge) my body was crying out for something big and starchy. A usual “my body is a lard temple” meal is a fry-up—fried bacon, fried eggs, fried bread, fried tomatoes, you know, a good Brit breakfast guaranteed to cure the brain-fuzzies. But today I decided on something slightly different. I did a bit of an inventory of the fridge and pantry and decided on pan haggerty.

I always like a dish whose origin is easy to explain and thus move on to the recipe. This one isn’t one of those. Pan Haggerty is essentially an onion, potato and cheese dish although variants include bacon or tinned corned beef. Variously called pan haggerty, panhaggerty, panakelty, or panacalty. The only mention I found that puts forth a reference other than “my gran says” explains that it is a Geordie supper dish originally called panhaggerty, and is said to have taken its name from the French hachis meaning to “chop or slice”. Apparently it is mentioned in a book describing the dialect of Winlaton, near Newcastle. Traditionally Pan Haggerty is always served directly from the pan in which it is cooked. Of course I’ve also found numerous recipes for a “traditional” Irish dish called haggerty, and guess what? Yup, same recipe. Whatever the origin, it is rich, filling and delicious.


PAN HAGGERTY

Ingredients
7oz potatoes, peeled and finely sliced
1 sweet onion, finely sliced
4 tbsp bacon drippings (if you don’t have or wish to make this vegetarian, use unsalted butter)
4 oz streaky bacon, sliced into lardons
4oz +1oz sharp Cheddar cheese, grated
sea salt and freshly ground black pepper
sour cream (optional for accompaniment—lovely)

Method
1. Preheat your oven to 350°F / 180°C / gas mark 4. Heat half of the bacon fat in a cast iron skillet (or any oven-proof pan) and fry the onions until soft, then remove them from the skillet.

2. Fry bacon in same skillet until crispy, then remove them and pit them aside with the onions.

3. Put a single layer of potato into the same skillet and fry until golden brown.

4. Layer onion, cheese, potato, onion, cheese, potato—seasoning between each layer before finishing with potato.

5. Heat the remaining bacon fat and pour over the pan. Put in preheated oven for around 35-40 minutes or until soft.

6. Just before serving, top with 1oz of grated cheddar and put under broiler until bubbling and melty. Serve with a dollop of sour cream.

Paul’s Potato Salad

Our friend Dave invited us to his house for a barbeque last Saturday. I thought it would only be polite to bring a some sort of side dish other than a case of beer (the perfect side-dish to any bbq). When breaking bread old-stylie, around a fire, with friends, two dishes immediately come to mind—cole slaw and potato salad. The Adam and Eve of summer time dishes. Macaroni salad could, I guess be added, but then my analogy wouldn’t stand up. I love them with a passion and for versions I always prefer the creamy style dressing. They possess that Proustian ability to evoke all kinds of childhood picnics, bbqs, and cottage bonfires. All of the summer eating experiences I remember have been accompanied with a creamy dressed salad—a vinaigrette version would just not do for Dave. I decided for this meal I would make a potato salad.

I flipped through a lot of different recipes, mentally tasting them all. Nothing quite caught my imagination so I finally decided to come up with my own recipe. My version has that rustic feel I remember as a child as well as a nice mix of tangy and savoury flavours that I love. Grab your plastic forks, dear readers, it’s bbq time!


PAUL’S POTATO SALAD

Ingredients
2 lbs new red potatoes
4-5 tbsp home-made mayonnaise (or store bought if you are short of time)
1 rib celery, diced
½ big sweet onion, diced
4 rashers crispy streaky bacon, crumbled
4 cornichons, diced
3 hard boiled eggs, diced
1 tsp Maggi Seasoning
½ tsp + pinch smoked sweet paprika
½ big lemon’s juice
kosher salt & freshly ground long pepper (regular black pepper would do as well)


Method
1. Peel and halve potatoes. Throw in a saucepan, and cover by about an inch of water, add about one teaspoon of kosher salt. Bring to a boil then reduce to a simmer for 20 minutes (or until the little guys are fork tender). Now, how firm you want the potatoes is up to you, I like a certain amount of resistance in my potato salad. Too soft and the salad degenerates into some mealy spread. But hey, if you like that...

2. Meanwhile make the dressing. Put the mayonnaise in a large bowl and mix in the diced celery, onion, bacon, cornichons, hard boiled eggs, Maggi Seasoning, sweet paprika, and the lemon juice. Make sure everything gets evenly distributed.

N.B. - I should add a quick note about the Maggi Seasoning. Maggi Seasoning is an extract of pure vegetable proteins. Made in China, this sauce features a distinctive flavour and aroma, which adds zest and depth to all kinds of food. I discovered it in Alastair Hendy’s cookbook entitled Home Cook: More Than 180 Recipes for the Food We Love to Eat. In his recipe for his Mum’s potato salad he noted that it gives the salad “a savoury edge, and perfects it.” He wasn’t lying. If you don’t have any Maggi you could substitute equal parts dark soy sauce and Worcestershire sauce, but the stuff is cheap and available everywhere now, I’d suggest just getting some.

3. When the potatoes are ready, drain in a colander. While still warm toss with dressing making sure that everything is thoroughly coated. Season with kosher salt and long pepper and finish with a pinch of smoked paprika. Leave in the fridge for a while until all the flavours have had a chance to marry.

Chicken Adobo Variation #2

L and I were planning a quiet night in to watch TV. I decided for dinner to return to that wonderful Filipino dish, Chicken Adobo. Back in March I tried the recipe for the first time based on its ease of preparation and it turned out so well I thought I’d look around and find another recipe for it. I found Chef Romy Dorotan’s (of Cendrillon Asian Grill and Merienda Bar) recipe and decided to give it a go. One thing that made me think twice while reading over this recipe was the use of coconut milk, I’m not a fan of coconut, but never having tried the milk I’m willing to give anything a go once.

What a great version of adobo. I was so pleased with this dish. The house is still filled with an amazing aroma. What flavour! This meal was more successful in the balance of tang and savoury tastes. I served this as Dorotan suggested with jasmine rice and my own idea of sautéed swiss shard with garlic and onion (well not so much my idea, the suggested side was mustard greens but our grocery store is terrible and no greens were available...hence swiss chard). This is a recipe worth trying, I filled the bowl with the rice, placed the chard just off to the side and the chicken on top, then poured the reduced sauce over it all. Brilliant.

Ladies and gentlemen, it’s chow time...


for SAUTÉED SWISS CHARD

Ingredients
1 bunch Swiss chard (center stems removed), torn and washed well (about ¾ lb trimmed)
1 medium roast clove garlic, finely chopped
¼ tsp crushed red pepper flakes
2 tbsp olive oil
1 tbsp unsalted butter
¼ cup onion
½ tsp Île de Ré sea salt
¼ tsp freshly ground long pepper

Method
In a saute pan over medium-high heat, heat the oil until it starts to smoke. Add the onion, roasted garlic, and red pepper flakes. When onions are soft add chard. Cook, using tongs to turn the chard over a few times, until it has wilted slightly. Remove from the heat, and season with sea salt and long pepper.


for the JASMINE RICE

Ingredients
1 cup Jasmine Rice
1 tbsp unsalted butter
low sodium chicken broth
water
kosher salt

Method
1. Rinse the rice, until the water runs clear without any milkiness. Drain.

2. Place the rice in a pot and add enough water (or a fifty-fifty mix of water and chicken broth) to cover the rice by ¾ of an inch.

3. Bring the rice to a boil, uncovered.

4. Lower the heat to the lowest setting. Cover and simmer until the rice is cooked through (about 20 minutes).

5. Remove the rice from the heat, add the butter to the rice and allow to sit, still covered, for at least 10 minutes. Then mix in the melted butter and fluff with a fork before serving.


for the ADOBO CHICKEN

Ingredients
3-3½ lb of chicken, cut into 6 serving pieces and washed
1½ cups seasoned rice vinegar
¼ cup soy sauce
1 cup coconut milk
8 cloves roasted garlic, minced
3 bay leaves
½ tablespoon ground long pepper

Method
1. In a big bowl, combine vinegar, soy sauce, coconut milk, garlic, bay leaves, and long pepper. Add chicken and marinate, covered, in the refrigerator for at least 2 hours.

2. Put chicken in a dutch oven. Pour marinade over chicken and bring to a boil. Reduce heat; simmer, covered, until tender, 20 to 25 minutes.

3. Preheat broiler. Remove chicken from pot, and place on a baking sheet or broiler pan. Place under broiler until browned, 5 to 10 minutes, turning for even browning. Meanwhile, continue to cook the remaining liquid in the pot until it reaches a creamy consistency. Transfer chicken to a serving platter, and top with reduced sauce. Serve with swiss chard and rice.

Pan-Roasted Bison with Sea Salt and Parmesan Sweet Potato Oven Fries

While shopping at the St Lawrence Market I visited White House Meats and picked up a couple of Bison Rib-Eye steaks at my wife, L’s, request. She heard that Bison was lower in fat and calories as well as having more nutrients than a lot of other meats. White House was clearly the place to go, it’s been around since 1953 and is quickly becoming one of my favourite and more challenging places to shop at the Market. I can easily walk away with a product that I have no idea how to cook; ostrich, rabbit, venison...etc.

So, along with my usual free-range capon for my Sunday chicken roast (from Mano’s), a pack of free-range chicken legs and a couple of skinless chicken breasts from Clement Poultry, I had the two 10 oz Bison Rib-Eyes weighing me down along with eggs, kefir, morels, salt (Île de Ré salt from Andrea Brockie, owner of Selsi Sea Rocks) and a plentiful horn of vegetables hanging from canvas bags (all this with only a peameal bacon sandwich for sustenance). Imagine my surprise when I found out that the street outside the market is alive and wiggly with dogs. Woofstock A Festival For Dogs is an wonderful event...that is unless you are draped in meat. I had every dog in a ten foot radius nuzzling my bags as I shimmied and shuffled trying to get clear without causing a fuss. I stopped only for a second when I came face to face with two gargantuan heads peering at me from over the Great Dane pen. Muzzles all spit-webbed, they just stared blankly at me with a wild sort of, what I knew to be, hunger. With much haste I quickly made my way north to Queen Street, meat swinging heavily.

After getting home I took inventory to make sure all my meat was still there then got online to learn about my Bison. Century Game Park is located in the Northumberland Hills County in Warkworth, Ontario. Rod J. Potter’s great-great-grandfather settled the land Century Game Park is on now. That makes him the fifth generation to live on the family land. 20 years ago Potter got into raising and selling bison meat and in 1992 elk. It’s said that his farm now boasts 75 bison and 18 elk. The bison and elk graze naturally around an environmental grass farm with wetland area and beaver pond. He has a holistic approach to farming and his chemical-free meat routinely appears on the menus of restaurants around the GTA. Bison and elk meat is growing in popularity in general. As I said earlier the reason for the meats’ popularity is not only because of the taste, but they’re high in protein and low in fat. It is great that there are people out there like Potter bringing this magnificent animal back from the brink of extinction to great numbers seen today. Oh, and the Bison tasted amazing. L said afterward that if she were not told what she had just eaten she would say it was really good quality steak. I was curious to find out what kind of bison I was dealing with but unfortunately my email to them was never answered. I hope that means business is good.


PAN-ROASTED BISON WITH SEA SALT AND PARMESAN SWEET POTATO OVEN FRIES

Ingredients

for the SEA SALT AND PARMESAN SWEET POTATO OVEN FRIES

3 organic sweet potatoes, cut in half lengthwise, halves cut lengthwise into wedges

¼ cup extra-virgin olive oil
¾ tsp Île de Ré sea salt
2 tablespoons chopped parsley leaves
¼ cup freshly grated Parmigiano-Reggiano

for the PAN-ROASTED BISON
2 x 10 oz pieces bison, rib eye
4 pieces long pepper (or fresh ground black pepper)
1 cloves garlic, crushed
Île de Ré sea salt (or coarse sea salt)
4 sprigs fresh thyme
2 tbsp peanut oil


Method

SEA SALT AND PARMESAN SWEET POTATO OVEN FRIES
1. Preheat the oven to 425 F / Gas Mark 7 / 220 C with heating the oven put a baking sheet in the for at least 5 minutes until it is very hot.

2. While the baking sheet is heating, toss the potatoes with the olive oil and ¾ teaspoon salt in a large bowl. Then dump the potatoes out onto the hot baking sheet, spreading to a single layer. Roast for 30 to 35 minutes, until the sweet potatos are brown and crispy. Toss the fries in a big bowl with the parsley and cheese. Cover with foil to keep warm until ready to use.


PAN-ROASTED BISON
1. Preheat the oven to 400 F / gas mark 6 / 200 C.

2. In a mortar and pestle finely grind the long pepper, then add the garlic and thyme and pound into a paste.

3. Rub the bison steaks with the paste and put aside for an hour to allow the mixture to soak in.

4. Heat a large skillet over high heat. Add oil, season steaks with sea salt and when the oil just starts to smoke add steaks. Sear them for 4 minutes per side and then place them into the oven for an additional 4-5 minutes or until steaks are cooked to medium-rare. Take steaks out of skillet and keep warm until ready to serve.

Four Cheese & Cremini Free-Form Ravioli with Asparagus, Ramp, Morel & Cremini Ragoût

Currently, we are just leaving ramp, fiddlehead, and morel season. Let it be known through-out the land. Actually I’ve just been told we are officially out of ramps season now. See, that’s how quick seasons pass. If you don’t grab foods when they’re fresh, you are out of luck—flavour-wise, and what other “-wise” is there? I tend to stumble into each season, wandering through a market I’ll spot, say, ramps, and immediately know I have to rush about trying to find out where they hid the morels and other vegetables that arrive at the same time. When I was young I was blissfully unaware that all foods had a season. Being city-raised as far as I knew, we had sweet corn simply because we were at the cottage. It was Fenelon Falls food, Hickory Beach food, like the green beans eaten fresh along the rows of the Harrison’s farm where we ran. We were on holiday and the food was just there. Now I know that my family cottaged at the end of July and August, the time that green beans and corn were ripest. I try to be more aware of the seasons as they arrive and look forward to June’s strawberries, lettuces in July, and sweet corn in August.

While digging through my fridge I noticed that I still had ramps, asparagus, morels and a few other things that really needed to be made into something. When seasons for some of these veggies are so short, it is a sin to waste them. I checked through my cookbooks and Tom Colicchio came through again. My recipe is very, very roughly based on his recipe of roughly the same name. The changes all came in the quantities and substitutions I made during it's making. The whole point, though, was to use the seasonal ramps and morels.

Before we get to the recipe let’s look at this seasons gems:

Ramps
I’ve only discovered ramps within the last few years. Long and thin with two or three bright green leaves with the small white bulb attached by a purplish stem, they resemble scallions somewhat. The aroma is quite a strong mix of onion and garlic. The word ramp itself comes from rams, or ramson, old Elizabethan for wild garlic. I didn’t realize how powerful that smell is until I had cleaned and trimmed about a half a pound one afternoon and the house smelt as if I had rubbed the walls with garlic for a day. They are sometimes called wild leeks but according to Wild Harvest’s website, although they are the same plant there is a difference—ramps are harvested earlier.

To prepare the ramp for cooking just remove the loose skin and dirt from the bulb and trim off the roots. Depending on the condition of the leaves, you can trim stock leaving about a ¼ inch of green.

Morels
Morels are conical, honey-combed mushrooms that have a wonderful earthy aroma to them. The flavour is rich and intense. They are usually found after forest fires or around trees like ash, sycamore, yellow-poplar, fallen elms, and old apple trees (remnants of orchards). When you buy them they should be almost dry to the touch. Avoid morels that are soft or mushy or that crumble when rubbed: they are too old and wormy. Keep your eye open for tiny white worms, morels occasionally contain insect larvae that drop out during the drying process. Is this gross? No, this is nature. Pick out the little guys and toss them in the back yard or in the compost. This year I went through a lot of morels and had only two appear.

To clean the mushrooms try not to wash, even brief soaking diminishes their flavour. Just use a brush to gently remove dirt, trim off the stems, and I cut the larger ones in half. They are hollow, so look inside the main body and the chambers to make sure no other critters are tucked up inside. There, you are ready to go.

Fiddleheads
Although I’m not using fiddleheads in the following recipe, it is the season. Fiddleheads are the young coiled fern leaves of the Ostrich fern. They appear in the early spring, during April and May, and are harvested as soon as they stretch up to about an inch or two of the ground. When buying look for a tight coil about an inch to an inch and a half in diameter and only an inch or two of stem hanging. There might be a brown papery skin, or chaff, that surrounds the fiddlehead on the plant. This is sometimes removed before reaching the store but I find there is always a bit left.

To clean, carefully brush out and remove the brown skin and then wash the fiddleheads in several changes of cold water to remove any dirt or grit. Drain the them completely. Cook the “heads” in a small amount of lightly salted boiling water for ten minutes, or steam for 20 minutes.

FOUR CHEESE & CREMINI FREE-FORM RAVIOLI WITH ASPARAGUS, RAMP, MOREL & CREMINI RAGOÛT

For the ASPARAGUS, RAMP, MOREL & CREMINI RAGOÛT
Ingredients
¾ cup (1½ sticks) unsalted butter, chilled and cut into pieces
100g morels & cremini mushrooms
50g ramps, cleaned and trimmed
150g asparagus, trimmed and cut into 2- to 3- inch pieces
1 tbsp chopped fresh chervil (or fresh tarragon)
1 tbsp chopped fresh chives
kosher salt & freshly ground black pepper

Method
1. First we make a basic beurre fondue (which is just a fancy way of saying butter melted in water). Bring about a ½ inch of water to a simmer in a small saucepan.

2. Start adding butter, about a tablespoon at a time, whisking to melt. As the beurre fondue reaches a gentle simmer, you may notice small oil droplets starting to form. This happens when the water begins to evaporate, so add a small amount of warm water to compensate.

3. Keep adding the butter until you have incorporated a ¾ cup into the sauce, slowly now, so as not to lower the temperature in the pot and cause the sauce to solidify. OK if it isn’t solid, it’s done.

4. For the ragoût, transfer your beurre fondue to a medium saucepan and bring to a gentle simmer over medium heat. Add the morels first, a few at a time, then reduce the heat to low. They tend to take the longest to lose their toughness. Add salt and pepper and cook, stirring occasionally, until the morels begin to soften, around 5-10 minutes. Add the ramps and continue to simmer gently until the morels are completely soft and the ramps are nice and tender, say about 5 minutes more.

5. Meanwhile, cook the asparagus in a pot of boiling salted water until they are tender, usually 3-5 minutes. Drain them and add them to the ragoût. Stir together. Season with kosher salt & freshly ground black pepper. Add the chervil and chives and serve garnished with additional herbs if desired.


For the FOUR CHEESE & CREMINI FREE-FORM RAVIOLI
Ingredients
1 or 2 fresh large, thin pasta sheets (around 10 x 10 inches), per person (make your own if you can) 1 pound ricotta cheese
¾ + ¼ cup freshly grated Parmigiano-Reggiano
½ cup grated Gruyère
½ cup grated Mozzarella
¼ Cremini mushrooms, diced up small
2 tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil
1 tbsp chopped fresh basil (or fresh chevril)
1 batch Ragout of Asparagus, Ramps, Morels and Cremini (recipe above)
¼ cup chives (or a mix of fresh herbs such as chervil, chives, basil, flat-leaf parsley, and tarragon)
kosher salt & freshly ground black pepper

Method
1. Heat the oven to 350F / Gas Mark 5 / 200C. Mix the ricotta, ¾ cup of the Parmigiano-Reggiano, all the Gruyère and Mozzarella, the mushrooms and the olive oil together in a medium saucepan. Add kosher salt & freshly ground black pepper and warm the cheese mixture, stirring occasionally, over low heat.

2. Cook the pasta according to the manufacturer’s instructions, then drain, rinse under cold water, and pat dry. Set the pasta aside in a single layer on a cookie sheet lined with plastic wrap.

3. Mix the basil into the cheese & mushroom mixture. Place a heaping spoonful of the mixture in the center of a pasta square, then fold the pasta around the cheese, creating a little bundle. Gently place the ravioli, folded-side down, in an oiled baking dish. Repeat the process until you have filled all the squares. How you do the filling and folding is entirely up to you, I like the look of a rough bundle, all you need to remember is to not over-fill the bundle.

4. Sprinkle the tops of the ravioli with the remaining ¼ cup of Parmigiano-Reggiano, and bake until the pasta is golden and slightly puffed, about 20 minutes.

5. Now break out that warm ragoût you made earlier and place it in shallow bowls, topped with one or two little ravioli bundles (it all depends on how large you made the bundles and how hungry you are). Serve with a sprinkling of finely chopped chives or fresh herbs.

Coq au Vin

“I love a recipe that really works, where you feel there is something unequivocally right about it. Where the cook has remained true to the dish, to its provenance, its history, its soul. I feel that way about coq au vin. The story is there for all to read.” - Nigel Slater

“I wondered when you’d get around to making this.” - L


We’re well into spring and because of this I’ve been looking around trying to find those hearty recipes that I want to make before the lighter, fresh meals of summer come along. Maybe a Spaghetti Bolognese with oxtail and pork shoulder, or a stew of some kind. I remember reading Jeffrey Steingarten’s article entitled “Red Wine & Old Roosters” in which he wrote that he had eaten coq au vin maybe 200 times in his life. My mind was blown. It wasn’t his keeping score that was the shock, nor the amount of times he partook, but that I never had. I mean, come on, I’ve eaten haggis, beef pattie and coco bread, and even tripe & fatty flank pho. Delicious cultural favourites. Why no coq au vin? It’s good hearty fare, proper brave food. I had no excuse.

What the heck is this coq au vin, anyway? I found out that although considered very old (there is a well-known myth of Julius Caesar being a fan) one of the earliest recorded recipes for it, according to American food-historians Mary and Philip Hyman, was published in Edmond Richardin's periodical L'Art du Bien Manger in 1913. The method though, that of tenderizing tough meat (like an old rooster) by slowly simmering it in wine or broth is a practice that goes way back to the ancients. The reason it took until the nineteen-hundreds before anyone wrote it down was that before that century cookbooks only dealt with fine cuisine, explain the Hymans. I guess that left home cooking traditions to pass down the way 90 percent of all recipes are—by word of mouth, mother to daughter. I wouldn’t have that benefit, I would have to scour my books.

First off from Steingarten I learned what not to do. Don’t get wrapped up in the long and twisted arguments of a Bresse rooster (i.e. coq) vs poule vs poulet vs coquelet vs chapon. Avoid at all costs the question of whether dealcoholized wine counts as “vin”. I am the type of person who gets really wrapped up in that kind of semantic hooha and would get very little done in the way of cooking if I dwelt on it. Julia Child, in the Art of French Cooking, says that the dish can be called “coq au Chambertin, coq au riesling, or coq au whatever wine you use for its cooking.” She suggests a young, full-bodied red such as “Burgundy, Beaujolais, Cotes du Rhone, or Chianti”; Rombauer & Becker ask for “dry red wine”; I went with Sola Nero Red because it was what I had in the cupboard. So I guess my creation could be called coq au Sola Nero Red.

OK, my first step was to find a recipe that would be reasonably within my skill level (which is about a scant skill). I found out right off that Anthony Bourdain’s Les Halles Cookbook was right out, if only because I didn’t have a couple of days to work with, I wanted to eat that night. I found plenty of recipes that are “simple,” or “quick,” I didn’t think I could trust the authenticity of flavour from a stew that is thrown together in an hour. I would love to have tried Nigel Slater’s version, Julia Child’s Mastering the Art of French Cooking was a possibility as was Rombauer & Becker’s Joy of Cooking. As with many important decisions the choice is inevitably made for you. Julia and Nigel called for cognac which I didn’t have. So I had the recipe, next I needed the ingredients.

Our first stop was Clement Poultry from Newcastle, Ontario. They have a table in the St Lawrence Market and their grain-fed, antibiotic-free chickens are particular favourites. Each week we buy a couple of boneless, skinless chicken breasts. So, along with our usual stock of chicken I purchased another 4 pounds of Chicken Thighs and Legs. Just south of Clement is El Gaucho Chorizos, they have been around for 35 years and although they sell through other outlets, the St Lawrence Market is their main location. The double smoked bacon there is wonderful and was my choice for the lardons for this attempt. Everything else, onions, mushrooms, herbs...et al, I already had. I was as ready as I’d ever be.

This dish does take quite a while to do, hours—seriously. But they’re easy hours. Meditative dishes. It makes sense now that I think about it. I always felt that this had to be a difficult dish to make, but come on, it’s a wonderful peasent dish, I doubt french mothers would be whipping this supper up if it was something you needed an degree to attempt. I did dishes along the waywhile things browned, or simmered. I dirty dishes the way kids dirty their knees, completely unconscious. Occasionally I would watch the squirrels run amok around our backyard. Then I would rattle some pots every now and again so L would think I was working harder than I actually was. It was great to let my mind wander as I stood, seasoned, and stirred.

I should note that after over a decade and a half of vegetarianism L has returned to eating meat again. She still has issues with certain meaty things and we are careful to buy what we call “happy” animals. Free range, organic, antibiotic free, and responsibly raised and slaughtered. It costs more and involves asking your butcher more questions but we feel it’s worth it (not to mention the fact that the meat tastes better). Another difficulty is that L prefers not to eat off the bone. Veins and gristle are not as enjoyable for her as they are for me. So when the meat was done and I removed it to a platter I pulled all the meat from the bones thus making it more L friendly.

In the end as I poured that reduced red wine and beef stock sauce, glistening over the chicken, onions and mushrooms...man, I understand why I wanted to spend those hours here. A quicker, TV dinner version of this creation wouldn’t, couldn’t equate to this gem of a dish. Hearty hearty. Those hours collapsed. L and I stood over the platter just looking at it, smelling it. Heavenly. Nigella Lawson correctly wrote that ”real French food is everything home cooking should be: comforting, transporting, with a reach that far extends the pettifogging, constraining vagaries of fad and fashion.” I was taken there with this dish.


COQ AU VIN

Ingredients
4 pounds chicken parts
4 ounces thick-cut bacon, cut crosswise into lardons
1 cup chopped onions
½ cup chopped carrots
3 tablespoons all-purpose flour
3 cups Sola Nero Red (or a good dry red wine)
1 cup beef stock
2 tablespoons tomato paste
2 bay leaves
½ teaspoon dried thyme
½ teaspoon dried oregano (or marjoram), crumbled
3 tablespoons unsalted butter
1-2 cups pearl onions, peeled
8 ounces cremini mushrooms, sliced
kosher salt and freshly cracked black pepper to taste
2 to 3 tablespoons minced parsley (for garnish)

Method
Cook bacon lardons in a Dutch oven over medium-high heat until brown then remove to a seperate plate.

Season chicken parts with salt and black pepper. In batches, brown both sides of the chicken pieces in the bacon fat in the Dutch oven, about 7 minutes or so. Remove them to a plate.

Pour off all but 3 tablespoons of the fat then add the chopped onions and carrots. Stir occasionally until soft, around 10 minutes.

Stir in the 3 tbsp of flour. Reduce the heat to low. Cook the roux until it begins to brown slightly, stirring on and off. This should take about 5-7 minutes.

While stirring add the wine (Sola Nero Red), beef stock, tomato paste, bay leaves, dried thyme and dried oregano. Crank the heat to high and bring the sauce to a boil, stirring constantly.

Return the bacon and chicken to the pot. If there is any accumulated juices add that too. The sauce will cool slightly because of the meat, so return the sauce to a boil, then reduce the heat so that the liquid barely simmers. Cover. Cook for 25 to 35 minutes or until the breasts register between 160 -165°F and the thighs register between 170 -180°F.

Meanwhile, heat 3 tablespoons unsalted butter in a wide heavy skillet over medium-high heat when the foaming stops add 1-2 cups of pearl onions, peeled (L doesn’t like them so I used 1 cup, adjust the recipe for those you love). Cook the onions, stirring often, until just tender and lightly browned then add the sliced mushrooms. Continue stirring until the mushrooms release their juices then remove from heat.

OK, championship round here, closing in on the end. Remove the chicken parts to a platter and cover with aluminum foil to rest and keep warm. Find and discard the bay leaves.

Bring the sauce to a boil over high heat and reduce until thick and syrupy, using a spoon to skim off the fat as it comes to the surface.

Dump the skillet of mushrooms and onions with their pan juices into the Dutch oven sauce and heat through. Season with kosher salt and freshly cracked black pepper.

Pour the sauce over the chicken. Garnish with minced parsley.

Look. Smile. Eat.

Roasted Chicken

If you asked me, say, three weeks ago if I would make you a roast chicken you would have been laughed at. Nothing personal. It just had no place in my cooking vocabulary. To me, based on absolutely no facts what-so-ever, there was some sort of arcane knowledge and advanced skill needed to even buy a full wingy and leggy chicken. What a difference those twenty-one or so days make. What brought on this life-altering transformation in my thinking? Tom Colicchio. Sometime last week I was reading his Think Like a Chef in bed and just as L, who does a lot of martial arts, was just finally slipping off into some much needed sleep after a couple of days of very hard training, I nudged her awake.

“bwuh?” she queried.

“Oh L, are you still awake?” I turned the book toward her, “Since you’re up, look at this, I was thinking of roasting a chicken this week. How’s that sound, eh? Impressed?” She didn’t respond right away so I nudged her again.
“bwuh whuh, huh?” I held the book before her, pages flopping across her face, pointing out the glistening, rosemary crowned chicken that Colicchio had apparently made. Her teary eyes strained open a crack in the glare of my full spectrum, 90 watt night light (I’ll have to replace the shade one day). I held the book closer for her.
“Yup, ‘bout time I start roasting some fowl, yup, very manly—like bbq.” She was quiet for a moment as this sank in.
“Mm,” she noted.
“I know! Bet you didn’t think I’d ever roast one, did you? In roasting you just gotta remember the basics: brown, gently roast, baste, and rest.” I could hear L gently snoring in agreement beneath the tent of Tom Colicchio’s Think Like a Chef. I planned the roast for the weekend.

On our regular Saturday visit to the St Lawrence Market L for some reason had no memory of our conversation and couldn’t figure out why I was buying a 3½ pound organic, free-range capon from Manos Meats. A capon is a very young rooster that has been castrated. They say a castrated rooster that makes a good roasting bird. Without nackers, these little guys have no sex drive, they spend their days eating and lazing in the shade wondering what hens are for until they become little fatty fatty boobalatties. We got it home and I followed the recipe exactly—well, as close as I could.

I started off by rubbing the chicken inside and out with the kosher salt and pepper. Once seasoned it’s time to tie up the little guy, also known as “trussing”. The facially-pierced young butcher at the local supermarket was kind enough to supply me with three feet of twine. I assumed he gave me exactly as much as I would need so I began to fumble with string and chicken in an embarrassing attempt to wrangle and rope it. For the next five or so minutes, I flipped and flopped this bird, got tangled up with string and skin-flaps, I got to know this capon very well. I was clearly missing something int Colicchio’s explaination, being a more visual learner I had to pull out the Joy of Cooking and look at the trussing diagram. Within a couple of minutes I had succeeded, albiet poorly. According to Jacques Pepin, the purpose of “proper” trussing is so the bird is easier to handle, it keeps it’s shape and it roasts evenly. My trussing technique proved to be somewhat less than “proper” being that the chicken continually Houdinied his little wings loose. It was suggested that I should have chopped off the wing tips at the first joint (and Pepin adds any other small tips as well) but I thought Colin, I’d named him by this point (and given him a bit of a back story), Colin had had enough things cut off him in his short life (and what a heroic life it was, what with the unbelievable single handed rescue of all those hens in the big coop fire of ought-six, made all the more amazing considering he didn’t know what hens were for). Besides, I like crispy wing tips, the removal is more for aesthetics than anything.

I got the peanut oil shimmering and began the browning phase of the roasting, both sides and then on his back and into the oven for 20 minutes. Once the timer went off, I tossed in some unsalted butter and put it back in to roast for another 30 minutes. I took it out frequently to brush the skillet butter and drippings all over to keep Colin well basted. When it was done and resting I added white wine to the chicken drippings in the skillet along with some garlic and lemon juice and made a really nice pan gravy. Tom Colicchio doesn’t mention this but going with the idea of his book he most likely would approve.

And there you have it. I figured out that no arcane knowledge was necessary, roasting was far easier than I thought. Like a mantra I repeated Colicchio’s advice over and over: brown, gently roast, baste, and rest. The meal, served with a mixed green salad with a mustard vinaigrette, was enjoyed by both of us. L even had seconds. So now if you ask me if I would make you a roast chicken, I’ll still laugh at you, and then start the oven.

So later that night as I was rereading the roasting chapter of Think Like a Chef, I felt proud of my newly aquired skill and decided to follow the book further to the next recipe. I turned to L who was snuggled deep under the covers beside me and nudged her.

“Hey L? What do you think about a pan-roasted striped bass next week, or maybe halibut? Yup, I think it’s about time...”

“gwuh?”


ROAST CHICKEN

Ingredients
• 1 3½ pound free-range capon
• kosher salt & freshly ground black pepper
• 2 sprigs of fresh rosemary
• 2 sprigs of fresh thyme
• 1 tbsp peanut oil
• 2 tbsp unsalted butter
• pinch fleur de sel

Method
1. Heat the oven to 375°F / 190°C / Gas Mark 5. Rinse the chicken and dry thoroughly with paper towels. Season the chicken inside and out with kosher salt and fresh ground pepper, stuff the rosemary and thyme inside the cavity, then truss.

2. Heat the peanut oil in a large, heavy ovenproof skillet over medium heat until it “moves easily across the pan.” Place the chicken on its side in the skillet and brown, about 7 minutes. Turn and brown the other side, about 7 minutes more. Turn the chicken breast-side up and transfer the skillet to the oven. Roast for about 20 minutes, then add butter. Continue roasting, basting (I used a brush) occasionally, until the thigh juices run clear, about 30-35 minutes more. Remove the chicken from the oven and cover loosely with aluminum foil. Allow the chicken to rest for 10 to 15 minutes, then carve and serve sprinkled with fleur de sel.

RED WINE-POACHED BEEF WITH STAR ANISE, LONG PEPPER & CARDAMOM INFUSION

When I first laid eyes on Ludo Levebvre’s cookbook Crave: The Feast of the Five Senses I didn’t know what to make of it. I would go into detail about the hilarious photographs (which I’m sure were not the intention and thus making it all the more sad because of it) but I have seen enough entries online treading that path, and a joke told too many times ceases to be funny (The Aristocrats aside). I think it best to present this link to SoCalorie’s An Open Letter to Ludo Lefebvre, from the May, 2005 entry from la.foodblogging.com, and leave it there. Aside from the pretty pictures, what kept me looking through this cookbook were the recipes, flavours different from what I was used to, but recognizable all the same. They looked really good, I mean, look at the guy’s creds, Lefebvre’s worked under some amazing people in some impressive places. He obviously knows what he’s doing—in the recipes, if not branding. The book was filled with spices that weren’t (yet) in my pantry (or my vocabulary), things like Chinese star anise which is the seed from the Badian tree, a small evergreen related to the magnolia. The seed contains anethole, the same ingredient which gives the unrelated anise its flavor. In China these beautiful little things are called bājiǎo, “eight-horn”. Lefebvre also calls for Indian long pepper which I’ve yet to track down but he describes the flavour as sharp, bitter and slightly sweet with a “light floral aroma”. Similar to regular pepper only hotter. Interestingly enough, the word pepper is derived from the Sanskrit word for long pepper, pippali.

I decided to try the one recipe I read over and over again, like a fine poem, his red wine poached beef recipe, a refinement of bœuf à la bourguignonne. Without the searing step and sliced very thin he claimed the meat would be "soft as butter." Over the week I slipped out during lunch breaks and evenings to Whole Foods, the LCBO (known as the liquor store to those outside of Ontario), and Kensington Market to get the ingredients together. As stated, the only thing I have yet to find is the long pepper, I substitute freshly ground pepper instead. All the burners of my tiny 20 inch Magic Chef crapomatic stove were called into duty. I even broke out my new mortar and pestle for the spices. Then followed a sweaty dance with pots and pans do-si-do’ing around the burners. With an allemande left and an allemende right I jumped back and forth between the beef, endives and reductions with as much grace as my ample frame could muster. As long as it is, I found the recipe particularly easy to follow and in the end both dishes were ready at the same time (which for me, is quite the feat), well, somewhat ready—the lemon reduction hadn’t reached the right consistancy, but to wait the extra five minutes or so would have compromised the rest of the meal. I plated and served it immediately. A complete success. The Port reduction was rich and velvety and its deep notes of sweetness a great balance to the citrus tang of the carmalized Belgian endive, which is cooked in lemon juice and water leaving just a hint of its usual bitterness. As promised the meat was amazingly tender alive with hints of spice from the poaching liquid. L had no complaint about the runniness of the lemon reduction.

RED WINE-POACHED BEEF WITH STAR ANISE, LONG PEPPER, & CARDAMOM INFUSION
(My version—for two)


Ingredients
For the Beef:
750-ml bottle dry red wine
2 whole star anise, slightly smashed
2 tsp coarsely ground pepper (long if you can find it)
1 tsp coarsely ground green cardamom seeds
1 1/2 lb piece of filet mignon, trimmed

For the Port Reduction Sauce:
2 cups ruby port (Paarl Vintage Character Ruby Port)
1 cup Wolfgang Puck Organic Beef Broth
2 tbsp chilled unsalted butter, cut into pieces
fleur de sel and freshly ground black pepper
...and for garnish additional freshly ground star anise, pepper (again, long if you can find it), and green cardamom

I needed:

• 3 saucepans for the poaching and two reductions
• 1 skillet for caramelizing the endive
• 1 small melon baIler I bought for the occasion
• 1 liquid thermometer for the poaching liquid temperature
• 1 meat thermometer (instant or not) to check the internal temperature of the beef
• 1 mortar & pestle (or spice mill) for the spices

Method
For the Beef:
Combine the wine, star anise, pepper, and cardamom in a heavy large saucepan. Bring to a boil over high heat. Remove the cooking liquid from the heat and cool to 185°F. Add the beef to the cooking liquid. Place the saucepan over low heat so that the cooking liquid barely simmers. Cook, uncovered, until an instant-read meat thermometer inserted into the center of the beef registers 135°F for medium-rare, about 25 minutes.

For the Port Reduction Sauce:
Combine the port and beef stock in a heavy medium saucepan. Boil over high heat until the liquid thickens slightly and is reduced to 1/2 cup,about 25 minutes. Whisk in the butter to form a smooth sauce. Season the sauce to taste with fleur de sel and pepper. Keep warm.

To Serve:
Cut the beef crosswise into 6-8 slices. Arrange the beef slices to the side of 2 large plates, overlapping slightly and dividing equally. Sprinkle the beef with fleur de sel and black pepper. Drizzle the port sauce around the beef (yum). Sprinkle with the additional ground star anise, long pepper, and cardamom. Serve the caramelized belgian endive with lemon alongside.


CARAMELIZED BELGIAN ENDIVE WITH LEMON

Ingredients
2 heads of Belgian endive
1 cup strained fresh lemon juice
1 cup water
2 tbsp extra virgin olive oil
2 tbsp sugar
fleur de sel and freshly ground pepper

Method

Combine the endive, lemon juice, and water in a heavy medium saucepan. Cover and cook over low heat until the endive is tender, about 15-20 minutes. Using tongs, transfer the endive to a plate. Cool for 5 minutes. Cut each endive lengthwise in half. Using a small melon baIler, trim the tough center core of the endive halves—gently now as the leaves come apart easily. Season the endive with fleur de sel and ground pepper. Continue boiling the cooking liquid until it is reduced to 1/4 cup, about 12 minutes. Keep the lemon reduction warm.

Heat the oil in a large nonstick saute pan over medium-high heat. Sprinkle the sugar over the oil. Place the endive halves, cut side down, in the pan. Cook until the sugar begins to caramelize and the endive halves are golden brown, about 2 minutes. Arrange 2 caramelized endive halves on each of the two plates. Drizzle the warm lemon reduction over the endive and serve.

Chicken Adobo Variation #1

Spanish for seasoning or marinade, adobo is also a term used for the name of a well-known Filipino dish typically made from pork or chicken (or a combination of both). I first read the recipe in Greg Atkinson’s great Seattle Times article Food for the Crew which made it into Best Food Writing 2001. It looked so good and easy, which is a big selling point for me, I decided to give it a go. After a quick search of the net for alternate recipes I decided on a mix of things I saw. The result was really good. Salty and tangy balanced but maybe leaning a little heavily to the salt side. As we were eating I mentioned to L that adding something sweet to balance the savory would really make it for me, maybe honey. One recipe called for fresh grated ginger, one called for replacing vinegar with lemon juice, another for adding pineapple bits and some of the syrup—it all sounds good to me. There are so many different takes available online that for the next couple of months I’m going to keep experimenting and posting the variations. This will be Chicken Adobo Variation #1:

CHICKEN ADOBO

Ingredients
2 pounds organic, free run, skinless chicken breast
1 cup vinegar
1 cup soy sauce
3 + 1 cloves roasted garlic, crushed
1 tbsp fresh cracked pepper
1 bay leaf
unsalted butter

Method
Wash the chicken and cut into about eight pieces. Throw the pieces into a pot with soy sauce, vinegar, water, 3 garlic cloves, pepper, and bay leaf. Bring to a boil and reduce heat to medium-low. Cover and keep chicken bubbling for 25 minutes or until done. Remove chicken from the liquid but keep the liquid boiling. Heat some unsalted butter with the other crushed garlic clove in a separate fry pan. Add the chicken and fry until brown. Return the chicken to the liquid (which will have reduced a bit).

Serve with steamed white rice.