This is a classic English dish and it's really easy to see why it's amazing.
Short answer = umami.
The CC has always ranted about the lack of respect given to English cooking.
This is another one of those neglects. It's totally ironic since the recipe is entirely vegetarian and yet it's not well known. In an era of "avocado toast" — which fucking sucks! — one should be shouting this one from the rooftops.
(If you do put an avocado on top of this, the CC really doesn't need to know in exactly the same way that he really doesn't need to know about your bowel movements!)
What is it?
A vast amount of mushrooms gently roasted in butter to which fresh herbs are added along with a judicious amount of both Worcestershire sauce and cream. The last two with an extraordinarily light hand.
Why does it work?
The insane off-the-charts umami — mushrooms, animal products (= butter + cream), and Worcestershire sauce (which is basically umami-central!) The toast adds all the wonders of the Maillard reaction.
How does it work?
You make some toast and put this stuff on top of it. DUH!!!
Ingredients
(serves 4 (= 8 toasts))
1 lb assorted mushrooms (the more varieties the better!)
2 dried shiitake mushrooms
butter
salt
pepper
thyme
parsley (finely minced)
2 tbsp Worcestershire sauce
2 tbsp cream
Note 1: You can totally substitute the Worcestershire sauce. Its goal is to add umami. Soy sauce will do the trick. Fish sauce will also do the trick. (You'll need a dash of vinegar and pinch of cayenne with the last two alternatives.)
Note 2: The thyme goes well with the mushrooms. Don't get hung up. They wouldn't have been in old England. Chives will work as would most herbs. Tarragon would NOT work. Too much anise flavor.
Note 3: The CC is going to amp this up one more notch by using dried Chinese shiitake mushrooms because why not? Once you grasp the principles, it's hard not to.
Note 4: You can totally gild the lily by adding parmesan. Why not? We've already dialed it up to 17. By all means, go ahead and dial it up to 29.
Note 5: Yes, the barest amount of lemon would rock this dish. The CC knows. One surmises the "limeys" didn't have access to fresh lemons?
Note 6: The CC knows what you are thinking. One pound serves four people? Yep. Talk to me AFTER you make the recipe and everyone wants more.
Recipe
Pour boiling water over the dried shiitake mushrooms. Not too much. After 10 minutes, pull the mushrooms out and filter the water through a paper napkin. Reserve the water.
Cut the reconstituted mushrooms into lengthwise pieces.
Cut the other mushrooms into lengthwise pieces.
Heat the butter until just under foaming. Toss in all the mushrooms and let them reduce at a medium heat. Add the water from the mushrooms. Add the thyme, pepper, Worcestershire sauce, and cream towards the end and let cook until almost dry.
Salt to taste. (The sauce already has a ton of salt so check before salting.)
Make some toast.
Top the mixture on toast with the minced parsley as topping.
Showing posts with label parmesan. Show all posts
Showing posts with label parmesan. Show all posts
Sunday, September 3, 2017
Thursday, November 24, 2016
Thanksgiving Menu
♥
Saffron Roasted Potatoes
♥
Brussel Sprouts with Parmesan & Pomegranates
♥
Champagne with Pomegranates
♥
Russian Cookies
Labels:
anchovies,
brussel sprouts,
champagne,
italian,
lamb,
menu,
parmesan,
pomegranates,
potatoes,
russian,
saffron,
thanksgiving,
tomato paste
Saturday, November 19, 2016
Brussel Sprouts with Parmesan & Pomegranates
Every year when Thanksgiving rolls around, the CC remembers a little too late that he has forgotten to post this recipe. This year he's determined not to repeat the same old error.
This is simplicity itself and yet amazing.
Ingredients
(serves 2)
20-24 brussel sprouts
olive oil
salt
pepper
1 cup coarsely grated parmigiano-reggiano
1/2 cup pomegranate seeds
Note 1: Under-salt the brussel sprouts a little because the parmesan is salty too.
Note 2: This recipe is actually better at room temperature or just warm rather than hot. You can make it ahead of time.
Note 3: Not kidding when saying that it serves 2. The CC has continuously increased the amounts over the years and there are never any leftovers!
Recipe
Shave the brussel sprouts with a mandoline. If you don't have one, cut them real fine with a knife.
In a shallow vessel — a wok works great! — heat up some olive oil. When hot, dump in the shaved sprouts, salt and pepper, and sauté until they are done.
Take off the heat and toss with the grated parmesan.
Top with pomegranate seeds right before serving. Adds both a visual punch and a sweet crunchy counterpoint to the umami and salty flavors.
This is simplicity itself and yet amazing.
Ingredients
(serves 2)
20-24 brussel sprouts
olive oil
salt
pepper
1 cup coarsely grated parmigiano-reggiano
1/2 cup pomegranate seeds
Note 1: Under-salt the brussel sprouts a little because the parmesan is salty too.
Note 2: This recipe is actually better at room temperature or just warm rather than hot. You can make it ahead of time.
Note 3: Not kidding when saying that it serves 2. The CC has continuously increased the amounts over the years and there are never any leftovers!
Recipe
Shave the brussel sprouts with a mandoline. If you don't have one, cut them real fine with a knife.
In a shallow vessel — a wok works great! — heat up some olive oil. When hot, dump in the shaved sprouts, salt and pepper, and sauté until they are done.
Take off the heat and toss with the grated parmesan.
Top with pomegranate seeds right before serving. Adds both a visual punch and a sweet crunchy counterpoint to the umami and salty flavors.
Labels:
brussel sprouts,
easy,
parmesan,
parmigiano-reggiano,
pomegranates,
recipe,
salty,
sweet,
thanksgiving,
umami
Friday, September 23, 2016
Caesar Salad
Probably the CC's favorite salad. Its salty umami-laden magic is just off the charts and it's truly sad that it's turned into a bad cliché with horrible ingredients.
Years ago, the CC visited April Bloomfield's justly famous restaurant where the "star" of the dinner was a whole pig. The lead-in to the dinner was this amazing Caesar salad and since the entire dinner was unlimited (minus the pig), at some point there was a call for salad seconds.
The table was ambivalent and after a pregnant silence, the CC shouted out a very loud, "YES!"
The table staff got some more and then they teased the CC while they served him, "I guess you don't want any more, right?"
Right.
This is her recipe unexpurgated. The CC doesn't know why it took so long to make it. It's literally perfect and the CC is smacking himself upside the head as we speak.
If you have a deep measuring cup and an immersion blender, this is a cinch to make.
There are a few changes. She prefers "neutral" oil but the CC overwhelmingly prefers olive oil. The vinegar change is marginal.
She goes with a a classic Caesar salad. Romaine, dressing, croutons but if you want a complete meal, feel free to top it with a grilled chicken (along with the filleted anchovies mentioned below.)
(Source: Directly from April Bloomfield's book A Girl and her Pig.)
Ingredients
Dressing
1 large egg
7 whole anchovies (separated into 14 fillets)
1/4 cup champagne vinegar
2 medium garlic cloves
3 tbsp Dijon mustard
1/2-1 cup olive oil (very approximate!!!)
1/2 cup parmigiano-reggiano (grated coarsely)
Salad
romaine lettuce (separated, washed, dried)
croutons
parmigiano-reggiano (for grating)
a "few" anchovy fillets (for topping)
pepper to taste
Note 1: The raw egg is non-negotiable. Buy eggs from a reputable source. Wash them thoroughly in warm water with soap and dry before you crack them. All the germs are (mostly) on the surface. The egg has strong properties to repel invaders even if mildly cracked. That's why raw eggs last longer in the fridge than cooked ones!
Note 2: You only need half the dressing since there's no way to make "half" an egg. That's how it goes.
Note 3: The dressing will last for at most 3 days in the fridge afterwards because of the raw egg. You'll just have to eat this excellence twice. The CC's heart bleeds for you.
Note 4: The CC used a blend of 1/8 cup champagne vinegar and 1/8 cup sherry vinegar. It makes a difference. The champagne vinegar by itself would be too tart.
Recipe
Drop everything for the dressing into a deep measuring cup except the oil. Blend gently. Add the oil a little at a time and blend it.
(She dumps the stuff one at a time but frankly, the CC saw no difference between dumping everything (minus the oil) in at once. Adding the oil a little at the time is mostly because you want it to get to a certain consistency. The CC did not need anywhere near 1 cup of oil. Chances are the CC's egg was larger.)
Taste.
It should be sharp (from the mustard and vinegar), salty, and umami-laden. You should not need to add salt. The ingredients should be salty enough. Balance the ingredients if necessary.
Mix the salad thoroughly with half of the dressing. The filleted anchovies and the parmesan are on top. Chill for at least 5 minutes and then serve.
Years ago, the CC visited April Bloomfield's justly famous restaurant where the "star" of the dinner was a whole pig. The lead-in to the dinner was this amazing Caesar salad and since the entire dinner was unlimited (minus the pig), at some point there was a call for salad seconds.
The table was ambivalent and after a pregnant silence, the CC shouted out a very loud, "YES!"
The table staff got some more and then they teased the CC while they served him, "I guess you don't want any more, right?"
Right.
This is her recipe unexpurgated. The CC doesn't know why it took so long to make it. It's literally perfect and the CC is smacking himself upside the head as we speak.
If you have a deep measuring cup and an immersion blender, this is a cinch to make.
There are a few changes. She prefers "neutral" oil but the CC overwhelmingly prefers olive oil. The vinegar change is marginal.
She goes with a a classic Caesar salad. Romaine, dressing, croutons but if you want a complete meal, feel free to top it with a grilled chicken (along with the filleted anchovies mentioned below.)
(Source: Directly from April Bloomfield's book A Girl and her Pig.)
Ingredients
Dressing
1 large egg
7 whole anchovies (separated into 14 fillets)
1/4 cup champagne vinegar
2 medium garlic cloves
3 tbsp Dijon mustard
1/2-1 cup olive oil (very approximate!!!)
1/2 cup parmigiano-reggiano (grated coarsely)
Salad
romaine lettuce (separated, washed, dried)
croutons
parmigiano-reggiano (for grating)
a "few" anchovy fillets (for topping)
pepper to taste
Note 1: The raw egg is non-negotiable. Buy eggs from a reputable source. Wash them thoroughly in warm water with soap and dry before you crack them. All the germs are (mostly) on the surface. The egg has strong properties to repel invaders even if mildly cracked. That's why raw eggs last longer in the fridge than cooked ones!
Note 2: You only need half the dressing since there's no way to make "half" an egg. That's how it goes.
Note 3: The dressing will last for at most 3 days in the fridge afterwards because of the raw egg. You'll just have to eat this excellence twice. The CC's heart bleeds for you.
Note 4: The CC used a blend of 1/8 cup champagne vinegar and 1/8 cup sherry vinegar. It makes a difference. The champagne vinegar by itself would be too tart.
Recipe
Drop everything for the dressing into a deep measuring cup except the oil. Blend gently. Add the oil a little at a time and blend it.
(She dumps the stuff one at a time but frankly, the CC saw no difference between dumping everything (minus the oil) in at once. Adding the oil a little at the time is mostly because you want it to get to a certain consistency. The CC did not need anywhere near 1 cup of oil. Chances are the CC's egg was larger.)
Taste.
It should be sharp (from the mustard and vinegar), salty, and umami-laden. You should not need to add salt. The ingredients should be salty enough. Balance the ingredients if necessary.
Mix the salad thoroughly with half of the dressing. The filleted anchovies and the parmesan are on top. Chill for at least 5 minutes and then serve.
Friday, April 3, 2015
The Epitome of Simplicity
The name of Ferran Adrià will forever be linked to molecular gastronomy but very few know that is a passionate advocate and practitioner of the simple perfection of Catalan cooking.
The freshest of ingredients, minimally touched, delivering magic on the tongue.
Here's one of his simplest recipes (and the CC paraphrases):
The rest is actually in the traditional sense of the word "simple".
However, the CC can attest that this recipe indeed is magic. Vanilla which is only seen in a sweet context takes on the starring role in a savory context.
Do make this. Even if you have to use dried pasta. This is ethereal.
The freshest of ingredients, minimally touched, delivering magic on the tongue.
Here's one of his simplest recipes (and the CC paraphrases):
Scrape a vanilla seed into a bowl. Heat up some heavily salted water. Put fresh tagliatelle and cook for 3 minutes. Meanwhile, heat some unsalted butter in a pan, put in the vanilla scrapings at high heat. Add a splash or two of the pasta water. Drain the pasta. Toss with the sauce. Add with a lot of grated parmesan.Some of you might have spotted the sleight of hand behind the simplicity. Fresh pasta takes some effort and it has to dry out for a few hours.
The rest is actually in the traditional sense of the word "simple".
However, the CC can attest that this recipe indeed is magic. Vanilla which is only seen in a sweet context takes on the starring role in a savory context.
Do make this. Even if you have to use dried pasta. This is ethereal.
Labels:
black pepper,
butter,
catalan,
italian,
molecular gastronomy,
parmesan,
pasta,
tagliatelle,
vanilla
Friday, January 9, 2015
Kale Me, Kale Me Now!
The culinary world, like the world at large, is subject to the ebbs and tides of fashion. Things come and go, they fall in and out of vogue. The seasons change and so does the culinary world.
Anyone that thinks this is a recent notion should be disabused of it rather quickly.
"I hate everything Egyptian", said Goethe once. He can't have been too familiar with Egypt never having been there what with travel being so difficult in those days. He was responding to the aftermath of Napoleon's campaign in Egypt and Syria which set off a fad for all things "Egyptian". (There may have been more than a trace of anti-French attitude given the nationalistic times but the point stands nevertheless.)
In the same age, Byron, the hedonist poet of his age and burgeoning metrosexual, who was so terrified of his figure that he weighed himself compulsively, advocated a diet of vinegar and rice and thanks to him being the male Beyoncé of his day, not only did women (and men!) throw themselves at him in disproportionate proportions but also did they submit themselves to the regular bouts of vomiting and diarrhea that came with the dietary territory.
Fun times.
America has always been the land of food fads. What with Fletcherism ("chew your food 100 times in a minute before swallowing") to Kellogg who invented cereals as a "cure for masturbation" (sic) to low-carb diets and the low-carb backlash (Atkins), there has always been room in a new country for a new mechanism to reinvent yourself.
Not that the old world is exempt. Almost all of the modern ideas derive in one way or the other from the ideas of Galen (29 A.D.) The notion of things as "hot" and "cold". There are competing systems in India ("Ayurveda") and China (食疗).
All of which are completely bogus, of course.
The latest fad seems to be kale but most people don't know how to work with the vegetable. It seems to be a "cure all" but nobody in the 19th century would've considered it so. It was peasant food because you have to work to make it edible. It's natural form is not given to tasting good.
Tasting bad is, ironically "mostly universal". It tastes bad because we have evolved a mechanism whereby something that tastes bad is probably poisonous or rotten and our senses are steering us away from it. Except that we humans, are insanely inventive. We invented cooking which neutralizes these poisons. And we're risk takers so that when we taste something bitter (bitter melons, brussel sprouts, beer!) and survive, it's like a roller coaster and we want more of the same.
This leads us to a digression. If you are going to make something that "tastes good", it takes considerable ingenuity to make it so.
Kale is undoubtedly "good for you". It also undoubtedly sucks in taste in its native form. We've had millennia to figure this out. The rational response has always been to pair it with a completely irresistible umami flavor and whether you did it via meat, mushroom, tomatoes or cheese is irrelevant. We have recipes from across the globe that do this.
There are a few things that need to be done. Firstly the tough central rib must be removed. They would've been fed to the animals on the farm. Secondly, with winter kale, you must massage it vigorously with your hands. You are breaking up the cellular structure. You will feel the kale go limp in your hands. After that, let the umami begin!
The recipes here are not only "good for you" but also "waste very little" and it will also make you roll your eyes back in pleasure.
Kale & White Bean Soup with Parmesan Broth
Ingredients
1 bunch kale
1/2 cup white beans
1 large onion (chopped coarsely)
4-6 cloves garlic (chopped)
2 parmesan rinds
6 cups water
olive oil
salt
pepper
Recipe
First make the parmesan broth. You need to have saved some parmesan rinds. They function like the "bones" in the broth.
Fry the onions and garlic in the olive oil. Add the rinds and the water, bring to a simmer and let it simmer for an hour at a low temperature. Strain the broth through a strainer retaining the liquid.
Meanwhile, make the beans. Simmer in water and salt until just below tender. This depends on the age of your beans. Separate the beans and the liquid and retain both.
Prep the kale. Remove the tough stems, and cut into a chiffonade.
Combine the broth, the beans, the bean liquor and bring to a simmer. Add black pepper to taste (the CC likes to amp it!). Adjust the salt. The parmesan is already salty so you may not need much. When it simmers, toss in the kale leaves and let wilt for 3 minutes.
Serve at once preferably poured over stale bread.
Kale Salad with Buttermilk Dressing
Ingredients
1 bunch kale
4 radishes (sliced paper thin)
1 carrot (sliced paper thin)
croutons
4 tbsp.. shaved parmigiano-reggiano (or more!)
1 tbsp. olive oil
1/2 tbsp. sherry vinegar
buttermilk (read below - exact proportions are hard)
salt (to taste)
black pepper
Recipe
Note: When the CC refers to buttermilk, it means real buttermilk. When cream is whipped, it separates out into butter (the fat) and the liquid (the non-fat). The latter is the buttermilk. It has a smooth complexity thanks to the lecithin. Commercial stuff called "buttermilk" is not really buttermilk. It'll still taste good but you will have to thin it with water.
First prep the kale. Remove the tough stems and cut into thin strips. Do the massage thing. They will wilt. (This is important otherwise you will be chewing like a cow and cursing the CC. Not recommended!)
Meanwhile, make the dressing. Add the parmesan, olive oil and vinegar. Slowly pour in the buttermilk while whisking continuously. You will need more than the conventional 3:1 ratio because the parmesan is adding heft to the dressing. Thin till it has the consistency of a dressing. Add the salt and black pepper to taste.
Mix everything together. Let sit for at least 3 minutes. Dig in!
Anyone that thinks this is a recent notion should be disabused of it rather quickly.
"I hate everything Egyptian", said Goethe once. He can't have been too familiar with Egypt never having been there what with travel being so difficult in those days. He was responding to the aftermath of Napoleon's campaign in Egypt and Syria which set off a fad for all things "Egyptian". (There may have been more than a trace of anti-French attitude given the nationalistic times but the point stands nevertheless.)
In the same age, Byron, the hedonist poet of his age and burgeoning metrosexual, who was so terrified of his figure that he weighed himself compulsively, advocated a diet of vinegar and rice and thanks to him being the male Beyoncé of his day, not only did women (and men!) throw themselves at him in disproportionate proportions but also did they submit themselves to the regular bouts of vomiting and diarrhea that came with the dietary territory.
Fun times.
America has always been the land of food fads. What with Fletcherism ("chew your food 100 times in a minute before swallowing") to Kellogg who invented cereals as a "cure for masturbation" (sic) to low-carb diets and the low-carb backlash (Atkins), there has always been room in a new country for a new mechanism to reinvent yourself.
Not that the old world is exempt. Almost all of the modern ideas derive in one way or the other from the ideas of Galen (29 A.D.) The notion of things as "hot" and "cold". There are competing systems in India ("Ayurveda") and China (食疗).
All of which are completely bogus, of course.
The latest fad seems to be kale but most people don't know how to work with the vegetable. It seems to be a "cure all" but nobody in the 19th century would've considered it so. It was peasant food because you have to work to make it edible. It's natural form is not given to tasting good.
Tasting bad is, ironically "mostly universal". It tastes bad because we have evolved a mechanism whereby something that tastes bad is probably poisonous or rotten and our senses are steering us away from it. Except that we humans, are insanely inventive. We invented cooking which neutralizes these poisons. And we're risk takers so that when we taste something bitter (bitter melons, brussel sprouts, beer!) and survive, it's like a roller coaster and we want more of the same.
This leads us to a digression. If you are going to make something that "tastes good", it takes considerable ingenuity to make it so.
Kale is undoubtedly "good for you". It also undoubtedly sucks in taste in its native form. We've had millennia to figure this out. The rational response has always been to pair it with a completely irresistible umami flavor and whether you did it via meat, mushroom, tomatoes or cheese is irrelevant. We have recipes from across the globe that do this.
There are a few things that need to be done. Firstly the tough central rib must be removed. They would've been fed to the animals on the farm. Secondly, with winter kale, you must massage it vigorously with your hands. You are breaking up the cellular structure. You will feel the kale go limp in your hands. After that, let the umami begin!
The recipes here are not only "good for you" but also "waste very little" and it will also make you roll your eyes back in pleasure.
Kale & White Bean Soup with Parmesan Broth
Ingredients
1 bunch kale
1/2 cup white beans
1 large onion (chopped coarsely)
4-6 cloves garlic (chopped)
2 parmesan rinds
6 cups water
olive oil
salt
pepper
Recipe
First make the parmesan broth. You need to have saved some parmesan rinds. They function like the "bones" in the broth.
Fry the onions and garlic in the olive oil. Add the rinds and the water, bring to a simmer and let it simmer for an hour at a low temperature. Strain the broth through a strainer retaining the liquid.
Meanwhile, make the beans. Simmer in water and salt until just below tender. This depends on the age of your beans. Separate the beans and the liquid and retain both.
Prep the kale. Remove the tough stems, and cut into a chiffonade.
Combine the broth, the beans, the bean liquor and bring to a simmer. Add black pepper to taste (the CC likes to amp it!). Adjust the salt. The parmesan is already salty so you may not need much. When it simmers, toss in the kale leaves and let wilt for 3 minutes.
Serve at once preferably poured over stale bread.
Kale Salad with Buttermilk Dressing
Ingredients
1 bunch kale
4 radishes (sliced paper thin)
1 carrot (sliced paper thin)
croutons
4 tbsp.. shaved parmigiano-reggiano (or more!)
1 tbsp. olive oil
1/2 tbsp. sherry vinegar
buttermilk (read below - exact proportions are hard)
salt (to taste)
black pepper
Recipe
Note: When the CC refers to buttermilk, it means real buttermilk. When cream is whipped, it separates out into butter (the fat) and the liquid (the non-fat). The latter is the buttermilk. It has a smooth complexity thanks to the lecithin. Commercial stuff called "buttermilk" is not really buttermilk. It'll still taste good but you will have to thin it with water.
First prep the kale. Remove the tough stems and cut into thin strips. Do the massage thing. They will wilt. (This is important otherwise you will be chewing like a cow and cursing the CC. Not recommended!)
Meanwhile, make the dressing. Add the parmesan, olive oil and vinegar. Slowly pour in the buttermilk while whisking continuously. You will need more than the conventional 3:1 ratio because the parmesan is adding heft to the dressing. Thin till it has the consistency of a dressing. Add the salt and black pepper to taste.
Mix everything together. Let sit for at least 3 minutes. Dig in!
Labels:
buttermilk,
kale,
parmesan,
parmesan broth,
umami,
white beans
Tuesday, July 15, 2014
Golden Beet & Beet Greens Soup
This is the ultimate meta-recipe for a simple
soup based on the barest minimum of ingredients.
The modern-day conception is unmistakably French although soups of this nature undoubtedly floated all around Europe before the codification of national cuisines in the 19th century.
They rely on only a handful of ingredients for flavoring and they can be tailored to both the seasons and the occasion. The soup can be made limpid and elegant or hearty and robust using just a few tricks.
The recipe at its heart is simple. Onions and/or related alliums — leeks, garlic, shallots are sautéed in olive oil till they are golden. Then water (or a clear broth) is added and the mixture brought to a boil. To this are added some vegetables which are cooked until tender. The vegetables (typically root vegetables) add their own flavor to the broth. At the last minute, finely chiffonaded greens are added and the soup is taken off the heat and served.
The recipe is so extraordinarily simple that naturally the CC needs to explain it in copious detail.
Simplicity frequently belies an underlying deep complexity.
The allium family, of which onions are a member of, are rich in volatile sulfur compounds. This is what causes their pungency and all the tearing. Only a small amount of molecules make their way to your eye but it's enough for you to start crying. It's a defense mechanism to prevent them from being eaten by animals but, of course, we humans figured a work around.
Cooking.
The flavor is coming from the sautéeing of the alliums. The sulfur compound that causes the tearing (1-propenyl sulfenic acid) converts in the presence of heat into another compound (3-mercapto-2-methlylpentan-1-ol) that is strongly present in meat broth. This is perceived to our tongues in the presence of salt as a very strong savory flavor. We're using alliums but our tongues and stomach are screaming "MEAT!!!".
This is why many cuisines worldwide use onions as the base of any recipe. It also shows how strongly the evolution of our tongue and diet has relied on meat, the last few thousand years of modern-day vegetarianism notwithstanding.
The addition of vegetables to this broth increases the savory quotient and results in an intensely flavored broth. The greens add complexity, nutrition, textural and visual interest.
The vegetables are almost always paired with their corresponding greens. Beets and beet greens. Turnips and turnip greens. Carrots and carrot fronds. Potatoes and dandelion greens (weeds). You get the idea.
This recipe is clearly a peasant recipe that got refined and passed upwards into the nobility. It's origins clearly betray the fact that it was meant as a recipe that doesn't waste anything. You use the beets and the greens that come up with the beets. The entire plant and no wastage. Something that should appeal to the present "back-to-the-past waste-not-want-not" movement.
Heft can be added in one of four different ways:
For the record, the CC once made the lightest alternative for his mom as part of a three-course lunch and he was greeted with, "I want a second helping."
This is a meta-recipe that clearly belongs in the Pantheon of the Greats.
Ingredients
(serves 2)
2 small golden beets with greens attached
2 onions
1 head spring garlic
3 cups water
sea salt
black pepper (lots!)
1/2 cup white beans pre-cooked (optional)
4 slices stale bread (optional)
1/2 cup parmigiano-reggiano (optional)
Recipe
Note 1: The recipe is made with golden beets because it respects the "clean" broth look that this recipe entails. The water has a light golden color. Regular beets would work but they would color the broth pink. The recipe has a clear limpid texture even though that's not obvious in the picture above.
Note 2: For a more elegant presentation while adding heft, make some parmesan toasts.
Separate the beets from the greens. Cut out the central stem of each frond retaining just the leafy green part.
Peel the beets and chop into flat medium-thick rings.
Chop the onions into quarter rings. Chop the garlic into slivers.
Sautée the onions and garlic in some olive oil at medium heat. Add the black pepper. When they are golden (but not colored) add 3 cups of water and bring to a boil. Turn the heat down. Add the beets and beans (if using) and let cook covered for about 6-7 minutes at medium heat until the beets are done.
Taste the broth for salt and add as much as necessary.
Once more bring the mixture to a rolling boil. Add the greens and turn the heat off. Let them sit for 1 minute.
Serve at once over bread (if using) with parmesan (if using).
The modern-day conception is unmistakably French although soups of this nature undoubtedly floated all around Europe before the codification of national cuisines in the 19th century.
They rely on only a handful of ingredients for flavoring and they can be tailored to both the seasons and the occasion. The soup can be made limpid and elegant or hearty and robust using just a few tricks.
The recipe at its heart is simple. Onions and/or related alliums — leeks, garlic, shallots are sautéed in olive oil till they are golden. Then water (or a clear broth) is added and the mixture brought to a boil. To this are added some vegetables which are cooked until tender. The vegetables (typically root vegetables) add their own flavor to the broth. At the last minute, finely chiffonaded greens are added and the soup is taken off the heat and served.
The recipe is so extraordinarily simple that naturally the CC needs to explain it in copious detail.
Simplicity frequently belies an underlying deep complexity.
The allium family, of which onions are a member of, are rich in volatile sulfur compounds. This is what causes their pungency and all the tearing. Only a small amount of molecules make their way to your eye but it's enough for you to start crying. It's a defense mechanism to prevent them from being eaten by animals but, of course, we humans figured a work around.
Cooking.
The flavor is coming from the sautéeing of the alliums. The sulfur compound that causes the tearing (1-propenyl sulfenic acid) converts in the presence of heat into another compound (3-mercapto-2-methlylpentan-1-ol) that is strongly present in meat broth. This is perceived to our tongues in the presence of salt as a very strong savory flavor. We're using alliums but our tongues and stomach are screaming "MEAT!!!".
This is why many cuisines worldwide use onions as the base of any recipe. It also shows how strongly the evolution of our tongue and diet has relied on meat, the last few thousand years of modern-day vegetarianism notwithstanding.
The addition of vegetables to this broth increases the savory quotient and results in an intensely flavored broth. The greens add complexity, nutrition, textural and visual interest.
The vegetables are almost always paired with their corresponding greens. Beets and beet greens. Turnips and turnip greens. Carrots and carrot fronds. Potatoes and dandelion greens (weeds). You get the idea.
This recipe is clearly a peasant recipe that got refined and passed upwards into the nobility. It's origins clearly betray the fact that it was meant as a recipe that doesn't waste anything. You use the beets and the greens that come up with the beets. The entire plant and no wastage. Something that should appeal to the present "back-to-the-past waste-not-want-not" movement.
Heft can be added in one of four different ways:
- Broth instead of water.
- Cooked beans which add more protein.
- Soup poured over stale bread.
- Sprinkling of parmesan on top (more umami.)
For the record, the CC once made the lightest alternative for his mom as part of a three-course lunch and he was greeted with, "I want a second helping."
This is a meta-recipe that clearly belongs in the Pantheon of the Greats.
(serves 2)
2 small golden beets with greens attached
2 onions
1 head spring garlic
3 cups water
sea salt
black pepper (lots!)
1/2 cup white beans pre-cooked (optional)
4 slices stale bread (optional)
1/2 cup parmigiano-reggiano (optional)
Recipe
Note 1: The recipe is made with golden beets because it respects the "clean" broth look that this recipe entails. The water has a light golden color. Regular beets would work but they would color the broth pink. The recipe has a clear limpid texture even though that's not obvious in the picture above.
Note 2: For a more elegant presentation while adding heft, make some parmesan toasts.
Separate the beets from the greens. Cut out the central stem of each frond retaining just the leafy green part.
Peel the beets and chop into flat medium-thick rings.
Chop the onions into quarter rings. Chop the garlic into slivers.
Sautée the onions and garlic in some olive oil at medium heat. Add the black pepper. When they are golden (but not colored) add 3 cups of water and bring to a boil. Turn the heat down. Add the beets and beans (if using) and let cook covered for about 6-7 minutes at medium heat until the beets are done.
Taste the broth for salt and add as much as necessary.
Once more bring the mixture to a rolling boil. Add the greens and turn the heat off. Let them sit for 1 minute.
Serve at once over bread (if using) with parmesan (if using).
Labels:
beet greens,
beets,
french,
golden beets,
meta-recipe,
onions,
parmesan,
parmesan toast,
seasonal,
soup,
spring garlic,
technique,
vegetarian,
white beans
Monday, May 12, 2014
Asparagus, Peas & Parmesan Purée
This is another one of those magical combos which is perfect for spring and easy to make.
The CC made it with fresh peas because he had some but frozen is fine here.
The CC has served this on a bruschetta topped with the asparagus spears and also as a pizza base. Toss with pasta if you like. It's truly amazing.
Ingredients
1 bunch asparagus
1 1/2 cup peas (frozen is fine)
1 1/2 cup parmigiano-reggiano
black pepper
salt (if necessary)
Recipe
First cut up the asparagus. Separate the tender spears and set aside. Then for each stem decide by pressing where the woody bottom portion is and discard. Set the stems aside.
Steam the stems and the peas for about 8 minutes.
Then steam the spears for no more than 1 minute. Be careful. You want some texture left here. They are very soft and will just go limp and disintegrate.
Blend the stems, peas, parmesan, and black pepper in a blender with some water.
Add some more salt to the paste if it needs it. Depends on the saltiness of the cheese really.
(You can also thin the paste if you like if you want to toss with pasta, etc.)
The paste and the spears are now your friends. Top a toasted piece of bread with the paste and top with the spear. Watch them disappear!
The CC made it with fresh peas because he had some but frozen is fine here.
The CC has served this on a bruschetta topped with the asparagus spears and also as a pizza base. Toss with pasta if you like. It's truly amazing.
Ingredients
1 bunch asparagus
1 1/2 cup peas (frozen is fine)
1 1/2 cup parmigiano-reggiano
black pepper
salt (if necessary)
Recipe
First cut up the asparagus. Separate the tender spears and set aside. Then for each stem decide by pressing where the woody bottom portion is and discard. Set the stems aside.
Steam the stems and the peas for about 8 minutes.
Then steam the spears for no more than 1 minute. Be careful. You want some texture left here. They are very soft and will just go limp and disintegrate.
Blend the stems, peas, parmesan, and black pepper in a blender with some water.
Add some more salt to the paste if it needs it. Depends on the saltiness of the cheese really.
(You can also thin the paste if you like if you want to toss with pasta, etc.)
The paste and the spears are now your friends. Top a toasted piece of bread with the paste and top with the spear. Watch them disappear!
Labels:
asparagus,
parmesan,
parmigiano-reggiano,
peas,
recipe
Sunday, April 6, 2014
Orecchiette with Peas and Buttermilk-Parmesan Sauce
This is emphatically not an Italian dish. It's clearly a riff on "Alfredo Sauce", which while invented in Rome and which was itself a riff on fettuccine alla Romana, was definitely made for Americans. Rumor has it that its popularity owes itself to the Hollywood duo of Douglas Fairbanks and Mary Pickford.
The substitution of cream by buttermilk makes sense. For one, you get a much stronger tangy lactic flavor. Secondly, you get a strong umami taste. It's also lighter. The emulsification works the same way as in the original.
The peas come from another classic Italian dish - pasta with peas, ham and cream. Similar idea just with fresh peas. Fancier versions substitute the ham with prosciutto.
The combination works magic and it requires a light hand. The peas definitely need to be fresh. Frozen is not going to cut it. It's also a dish where you need to make the sauce quickly while you are making the pasta at the last minute and toss it all together.
The reason to use orecchiette is to cradle the peas while holding on to the sauce. Substitute with conchiglie (shells) in the same logical vein.
Even with questionable authenticity, this dish is definitely both simple and magical.
Ingredients
(serves 2 generously)
2 cups conchiglie
1 cup fresh peas
1/2 cup buttermilk
1/2 tbsp. butter
1/2 cup parmigiano-reggiano
black pepper
1/3 cup chopped parsley
Recipe
Bring the heavily-salted pasta water to a boil. Add the pasta and cook till al dente. Roughly 12 minutes.
Meanwhile, heat up the butter in a pan at medium-low heat. When melted add the peas and let the sautée for a bit. Add the buttermilk and let it warm up and boil at the lowest possible heat. Add the parmesan and whisk the sauce.
Add the drained pasta, black pepper and parsley and toss thoroughly.
Serve.
The substitution of cream by buttermilk makes sense. For one, you get a much stronger tangy lactic flavor. Secondly, you get a strong umami taste. It's also lighter. The emulsification works the same way as in the original.
The peas come from another classic Italian dish - pasta with peas, ham and cream. Similar idea just with fresh peas. Fancier versions substitute the ham with prosciutto.
The combination works magic and it requires a light hand. The peas definitely need to be fresh. Frozen is not going to cut it. It's also a dish where you need to make the sauce quickly while you are making the pasta at the last minute and toss it all together.
The reason to use orecchiette is to cradle the peas while holding on to the sauce. Substitute with conchiglie (shells) in the same logical vein.
Even with questionable authenticity, this dish is definitely both simple and magical.
Ingredients
(serves 2 generously)
2 cups conchiglie
1 cup fresh peas
1/2 cup buttermilk
1/2 tbsp. butter
1/2 cup parmigiano-reggiano
black pepper
1/3 cup chopped parsley
Recipe
Bring the heavily-salted pasta water to a boil. Add the pasta and cook till al dente. Roughly 12 minutes.
Meanwhile, heat up the butter in a pan at medium-low heat. When melted add the peas and let the sautée for a bit. Add the buttermilk and let it warm up and boil at the lowest possible heat. Add the parmesan and whisk the sauce.
Add the drained pasta, black pepper and parsley and toss thoroughly.
Serve.
Labels:
buttermilk,
cream,
hollywood,
movies,
parmesan,
pasta,
peas,
recipe,
vegetarian
Sunday, March 30, 2014
Clam, White Bean & Saffron Soup with Parmesan Toasts
This is a very simple recipe. The CC has seen it made with mussels as well.
The parmesan toasts are simply superb. They would work with most soups.
The advantage of making them is you do get a subtle umami flavoring from the parmesan as you dunk them in clam soup but at no point does it overwhelm the purity of the clam flavor which would be the case if you just added parmesan directly to the soup.
Parmesan Toasts
(yields 8 triangles)
Ingredients
1 1/2 cup grated parmigiano-reggiano
4 slices bread
Recipe
Preheat the oven to 350°F.
On a tray lay out the slices of bread and evenly divide the parmesan onto each.
Bake for about 10 minutes. Be careful that they do not burn. Cut into triangles and set aside.
Clam, White Bean & Saffron Soup
(serves 2)
Ingredients
2 dozen clams
1 small onion (sliced into thin half-rounds)
1/4 cup white beans
olive oil
large pinch of saffron
black pepper
Recipe
First make the beans. Cook them in very lightly salted water till done. Roughly 20 minutes. Reserve the broth. (Do not oversalt the water because the clams are briny and the soup will become overly salty)
Cook the clams with some water. When they open fish them out. Pass the clam broth through a cheesecloth to eliminate the sand. Reserve the clams and broth separately.
In a pot, heat up some olive oil. Add the onions and cook till they are limp but not colored. Fry the cooked beans for a bit. Add the two broths and black pepper. Bring to a boil and let it cook for about 8-10 minutes. Add the saffron at the last minute. Turn off the heat.
Divide the clams into two bowls. Top with the soup. Serve with the parmesan toasts.
The parmesan toasts are simply superb. They would work with most soups.
The advantage of making them is you do get a subtle umami flavoring from the parmesan as you dunk them in clam soup but at no point does it overwhelm the purity of the clam flavor which would be the case if you just added parmesan directly to the soup.
Parmesan Toasts
(yields 8 triangles)
Ingredients
1 1/2 cup grated parmigiano-reggiano
4 slices bread
Recipe
Preheat the oven to 350°F.
On a tray lay out the slices of bread and evenly divide the parmesan onto each.
Bake for about 10 minutes. Be careful that they do not burn. Cut into triangles and set aside.
Clam, White Bean & Saffron Soup
(serves 2)
Ingredients
2 dozen clams
1 small onion (sliced into thin half-rounds)
1/4 cup white beans
olive oil
large pinch of saffron
black pepper
Recipe
First make the beans. Cook them in very lightly salted water till done. Roughly 20 minutes. Reserve the broth. (Do not oversalt the water because the clams are briny and the soup will become overly salty)
Cook the clams with some water. When they open fish them out. Pass the clam broth through a cheesecloth to eliminate the sand. Reserve the clams and broth separately.
In a pot, heat up some olive oil. Add the onions and cook till they are limp but not colored. Fry the cooked beans for a bit. Add the two broths and black pepper. Bring to a boil and let it cook for about 8-10 minutes. Add the saffron at the last minute. Turn off the heat.
Divide the clams into two bowls. Top with the soup. Serve with the parmesan toasts.
Labels:
clams,
mediterranean,
parmesan,
parmesan toast,
recipe,
saffron,
soup,
toast,
white beans
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