Thursday, October 28, 2010

Persian Pomegranate and Lamb Soup

 
  

The Hotel Les Merinides sits on a hillside overlooking the ancient, exotic Moroccan city of Fes.  Below, the historic medina of Fes el Bali, established in 789 AD, is a sea of white-washed buildings punctuated by the green-tiled roofs of the University of Al-Karaouine, the oldest continuous university in the world, and its Karaouine Mosque, one of the largest and oldest in Africa.  These emerald jewels in the city reflect the jewel Fes long represented to the Western-world as a center of science and learning for medieval Muslims and Christians alike.  Within the medina, one can step back into the time of camel trains delivering gold from Timbuktu, spice traders selling their goods among towering cones of cumin, coriander and turmeric, the leather souk where hides are still tanned and colored by foot in open pits.  A walk through the maze-like narrow alleys of the medina will pass by a boy taking dough to the neighborhood communal bakery, a farmer pushing a cart of Clementines for sale, or a sweets-maker carrying a tray piled high with candies and cookies. 

Few of these things were making an impression on me as I sat on the hotel’s terrace after the long drive in from the coast.  The way this city is cradled by its surrounding Atlas mountain range hills was how I wanted to be cradled in bed to nurse the aches and chills of the cold I felt.  Learning this, they served me Morocco’s classic harira soup, a lentil and tomato soup with turmeric and cinnamon, cilantro, parsley, celery, onion and sometimes chickpeas.  The chill went away and I was filled with zesty, warming goodness.  It was that same feeling I wanted to feel last night after a cold and rainy day.  Fall is setting in, night is coming earlier, and I wanted to feel the warmth from the inside.  My remaining pomegranate I needed to use sent me to the opposite end of the Muslim world, but even though I looked through recipes from Persia, I remembered that Moroccan harira soup from that day in Fes.  This Persian pomegranate and lamb soup has many of the same characteristics.  It starts with lentils, onions and garlic, and is added upon with cilantro, parsley and turmeric.  Of course, pomegranate juice is mixed in, and lamb meatballs along with rice also provide a hearty and Middle-Eastern flavor reminder.  Try this soup on a chilly day when brightness can come from a pomegranate and warmth from the inside out.  Serves 4.
    
Ingredients:
2 tbsp olive oil
1 large onion, thinly sliced
2 garlic cloves
¼ cup lentils
4 cups water
1 tsp salt
¼ tsp black pepper
½ tsp ground turmeric
1 cup chopped parsley
1 cup chopped cilantro
1 cup chopped scallions
½ cup basmati rice
½ lb ground lamb
1 small onion, grated
1/2 tsp salt
¼ tsp black pepper
2 tbsp chopped parsley
1 slice white bread, broken into pieces
2 tbsp milk
2 tbsp sugar
2 cups pomegranate juice with a handful of seeds for garnish
2 tbsp lemon juice
    
Directions:
In a heavy pot over medium heat, warm the oil and soften the sliced onions.  After a few minutes, add the garlic and continue to cook until golden.  Add the lentils and cook, stirring for a minute to coat.  Add the water and bring to a boil.  Reduce the heat to a simmer and cook partially covered for 10 minutes.  Add the salt, pepper, turmeric, parsley, cilantro and scallions.  Continue cooking partially covered for another 10 minutes.  Meanwhile, make the meatballs by combining the bread and milk.  Squeeze out any excess milk and add to a bowl with the lamb, salt, pepper, parsley and grated onion.  Mix together thoroughly and form into small meatballs.  Add the meatballs and rice to the soup, return the soup to a simmer and continue to cook for 10 minutes.  Stir in the pomegranate juice, sugar, and lemon juice.  Adjust the seasoning if desired, and serve.
     

Wednesday, October 27, 2010

Fesenjan (Pomegranate Walnut and Onion Sauce with Chicken)

 


Fesenjan.  Sounds like a city in Persia, and indeed the word is Persian in origin.  Exotic and mystical are words that come to my mind when thinking about Persia.  Of course,we have our Western view of Persia through the eyes of the Greeks, and our modern differences with the government of the country we call Iran, but what is Persian food really?  A of pile pomegranates at the store made me find out.  Food can grow our senses and experiences.  It can also help us learn about and understand a culture and the place its people live.  Start with the pomegranate.  These and other tree based fruits such as plums, prunes, apricots and raisins form an integral part of Persian cuisine.  One can imagine the Zagros Mountains of western Iran sheltering not only ancient imperial Persian cities, but also moderate climates home to such bounty.  Meat of course would be part of any diet in a region like this, and fillers such as rice and spices such as saffron and cinnamon readily available. 

So, my journey into learning about such cuisine began with a two-for-one sale at the local market, something that would make any Persian stall owner proud.  My search for pomegranate menus revealed this recipe from the Gourmet cookbook.  It combines this famous fruit with another treasure of ancient Persians, the walnut.  Together, this meal was meant for royalty and today this recipe is favored on special occasions.  Of course, at home where every man (or woman) is king, and every day an opportunity to feel special through cooking, such a recipe is an easy selection.  One thing I did was to take the khoresht out of the fesenjan.  Khoresht is a name for stew, and many preparations of fesenjan will show this as a stew with chunks of meat.  For whatever reason, I felt like making this recipe as a sauce topping a whole chicken breast, as the picture shows.  I did braise the meat in the sauce, but then I served it as a chicken breast with the sauce on top.  East meets West you could say.  Either way, the flavors, aromas and thoughts of Persia are what are important.  That, and the adventures even your local supermarket can inspire.  Serves 2.
    
Ingredients:
2 tbsp butter
2 chicken breasts
2 yellow onions, sliced thin
1 tsp ground cinnamon
2 cups coarsely ground walnuts
1 pomegranate, quartered, with seeds retained whole from one quarter and the remaining quarters squeezed for their juice
½ cup tomato sauce
1 ½ cups chicken stock
1 tbsp lemon juice
¼ tsp salt
¼ tsp pepper
1 tbsp molasses
1 cup cooked rice
    
Directions:
In a large skillet over medium high heat, melt the butter and then brown the chicken on both sides.  Remove the chicken.  Reduce the heat to medium and sauté the onions until golden and softened.  Stir in the cinnamon and cook for an additional minute.  Stir in the walnuts and cook another minute.  Stir in the pomegranate juice and deglaze the bottom of the pan, scraping up any bits.  Add the tomato sauce, broth, lemon juice, salt, pepper, molasses, and pomegranate seeds.  Bring the mixture to a boil, turn down the heat and return the chicken.  Cook the mixture for an additional 10 minutes, or until the chicken is cooked through.  If a stew–like dish is desired, break up the chicken into pieces and simmer down to the desired stew consistency.  If a sauce is desired, retain the chicken breasts whole, remove, and cook down the sauce to the desire sauce consistency.  Serve with rice.
   

Tuesday, October 26, 2010

Smoky Shrimp and Chorizo Soup

  
 

A new restaurant in my neighborhood is a casual joint, relatively speaking.  It is part of a family of restaurants that includes a very upscale restaurant downtown featuring French-Belgique cuisine.  Its sister restaurant is located next door to this local place, also very fine.  The casual third restaurant is no out-of-place step-child.  It is warm with booths, a bar, a high table with tall chairs, heat and light from the open brick oven.  It is also sophisticated, in part from the menu of flatbreads and mussels.  If it’s one thing Belgium knows it’s mussels, and beer of course.  This place keeps a dozen or more beers from Belgium that you've never heard of, probably to build mystique.  Whether those are actually for drinking or not, the food is definitely for eating.  They offer gourmet flatbreads with ingredients such as prosciutto, goat cheese, and forest mushrooms.  They also serve several different mussel combinations, including one with chorizo sausage that I order regularly.  Pork and seafood is a classic combination.  Portugal features pork and clams, the pork marinated in paprika and white wine, and then cooked together with the clams in a stock and tomato broth.  Of course, the Iberian peninsula is also home to chorizo, so smoky and rustic.  I’m a mussels fan too, which is why I like the mussels and chorizo dish. 
   
All of these thoughts and flavors return to my mind and palette in the recipe below from Food and Wine.  The smokiness of the chorizo is combined with the bread-dipping good broth, and the shrimp provides an easy seafood partner, as well as a nice additional firm crunch.  Topped with luscious avocado slices and this dish is creamy, spicy, hearty, savory, smoky, all wonderful tastes and feelings.  Did I mention quick too?
Serves 4.
      
Ingredients:
1 lb shrimp, shelled, shells reserved
1 quart low-sodium chicken broth
1 tbsp olive oil
4 oz dry chorizo, peeled and sliced
½ large sweet onion, diced
1 garlic clove, minced
½ tsp sweet smoked paprika
1 14-oz can diced tomatoes, drained
2 tbsp flour
2 tbsp butter
salt/pepper
avocado slices
   
Directions:
In a medium saucepan, simmer the shrimp shells in the chicken broth for 10 minutes.  Strain the broth and keep the shells.  In a large pot, heat the oil over medium-high heat.  Add the chorizo and cook a few minutes to brown slightly.  Remove and reserve.  Turn down the heat to medium and add the onion, garlic and paprika.  Soften the onions for 5 minutes.  Add the tomatoes and cook a further 5 minutes.  Add the chorizo to the pan along with the broth and bring to a boil.  Reduce the heat to a simmer and cook for 25 minutes.  Meanwhile, in a small pan melt the butter and stir in the flour to make a roux.  Cook the roux for another minute to reduce the flour flavor, and then whisk into the soup.  Simmer a few additional minutes to thicken the soup.  Ladle into bowls and serve with the avocado slices.
     

Wednesday, October 20, 2010

Yellow Dal

 
  

Dal, dal, everywhere dal.  That’s what it seemed like after my yellow dal madness.  There is an Indian restaurant near my office I like to go to at least once a week.  I get the Chicken Korma, that luscious Mughal dish that braises meat in yoghurt, cream, and almonds.  I also love a dal with that, the lentil side dish ubiquitous across India.  One of my favorites is Makhani  Dal, another Punjabi dish, made with black lentils and slow cooked for hours, many times with cream, but always with cumin and garam masala and served with rice and naan bread.  But, paired with Chicken Korma I go for a yellow dal, made with what I think of as yellow-spit peas.  Apparently, Indians don’t actually eat this kind of dal, it being more a creation of Indians who have come to the new world.  Such purities matter not to me for these purposes.   For me, it is just a transport device taking me to an exotic subcontinent, thick with the smell of Indian spices, the blaring honking horns of traffic jams and languages, the classic Muslim and Hindu architecture, the multi-colored sarongs.  I have never been to India, but some day I will go, and until then, I will use these dishes to fantasize about such a trip. 

Wanting to capture these midweek interludes at home, I set about making a yellow dal dish.  Since there really is no one such thing, the variety is great.  I found a recipe for a so-called Mountain Dal from Nepal.  I tried that first and did not like it at all.  Not that there was anything wrong with it, I just learned that I am not a big fan of cardamom.  Indeed, that’s what these recipes are at heart, a reflection of the spices and techniques of their region.  Unhappy with the Mountain Dal, I decided to prepare another version, and why stop there?  So, I chose another style to compare.  Pictured above with the red pepper slivers is a dish from southern India.  As you might imagine, it is cooked with coconut milk, a primary ingredient of southern Indian cooking.  Also above with the cilantro is a Delhi dal.  That was the most basic recipe, but still included the essentials:  turmeric, onion, cumin, garlic, garam masala.  In all of these I learned the basic dal technique, which is to cook the lentils in water with just the turmeric, and then when they are done, add in an onion, spice, oil mixture for flavoring.  The simplest recipe I have included bellow.  Try it for your own taste of Delhi.
   
Ingredients:
16 oz yellow lentils
1/2 tsp ground turmeric
4 cups water
1 tsp salt
1 tomato, diced
3 tbsp vegetable oil
1 tsp cumin seeds
1 yellow onion, diced
4 cloves garlic, minced
½ tsp cayenne pepper
1 tsp garam masala

Directions:
Rinse the lentils and add to a pot with the water and turmeric over high heat.  Bring to a boil and turn down the heat to a simmer.  Cook approximately 40 minutes.  Add the salt and tomato and cook another 5 minutes.  Meanwhile, warm the oil in a small frying pan over medium-high heat.  Add the cumin cook to release the flavors, about 30 seconds.  Add the onion and garlic and cook, stirring occasionally, until the onions are golden, about 5 minutes.  Stir in the cayenne and garam masala.  Stir the entire mixture into the lentils.  Cook the lentils a few minutes more to incorporate the flavors.  Mash some of the lentils and or cook down a little of the liquid if desired.  Serve with rice.

Tuesday, October 19, 2010

Pancetta and Herb Frittata

 


We all find comfort in our routines.  Part of why we get into ruts is because they are comfortable.  One habit I am in which makes me very happy is my weekend breakfast schedule.  I love a big breakfast, and I love breakfast food.  I’m talking eggs and bacon, but also hash browns, even a bowl of cereal.  I go salty and savory on Saturdays, and then Sundays I go sweet with pancakes or waffles.  So it was when disaster hit last weekend.  I realized, Saturday morning, that I was out of both bacon and hash brown potatoes.  I know I could have made hash brown cut potatoes from scratch, but the frozen kind is fine with me and saves a lot of time and trouble.  A similar option however does not exist for me and bacon.  I love bacon.  It may very well be my favorite food.  For me it is also a key component of my scrambled eggs recipe.  I first fry the bacon, and then after pouring off the rendered fat, cook the eggs in the remaining bacon film and bits.  No butter for my eggs.  Just like the French say duck fat makes the best pomme frites, I think a little bacon fat makes the best scrambled eggs. 
    
What to do?  On this morning, a switched courses and went with a pancetta and herb frittata.  Now it may seem odd to you that I had pancetta and not bacon.  It is true that I like to keep pancetta on hand and I recommend you do as well.  It is a frequent component of many of the Italian dishes I prepare.  However, my recipes seem to result in never quite using all of the pancetta I buy, so I usually seem to have at least a little bit of it in the fridge.  Likewise, I think every pantry should include potatoes somewhere down in its deep, dark recesses.  Similarly, every self-respecting home cook should keep basic herbs including thyme, rosemary, basil and parsley, but also chives and dill.  I try always to keep fresh parsley, but it’s easy to also keep a dried amount for those just in case moments.  Thus, there is always the opportunity to whip up a frittata.  It may sound fancy, but it’s really quite easy.  Dice the potatoes small and cook them first, then when soft add the eggs and whatever else you like.  Finish under the broiler and you have a complete breakfast in a single dish.  Serves 4.
   
Ingredients:
2 tbsp vegetable oil
4 potatoes, peeled and diced to ¼” pieces
6 oz. pancetta, diced
6 eggs, beaten
Salt/pepper
1 tbsp fresh, chopped or 2 tsp dried parsley
1 tsp fresh chopped or ½ tsp dried dill
1 tsp fresh, chopped or ½ tsp dried chives
Salt/pepper

Directions:
Turn on the oven broiler to preheat.  In a large non-stick sauté pan over medium heat, add the oil.  When hot, add the potatoes.  Stir to coat and cover.  Cook for 5 minutes, stirring occasionally.  Add the pancetta and cook a further 4 or 5 minutes to brown.  In a bowl, combine the eggs, herbs and salt and pepper to taste.  Add the cooked potatoes and pancetta mixture, stir and return to the pan.  Cook the frittata until the bottom is browned and the top is almost set.  Place the pan under the broiler to finish cooking the top of the frittata and brown.  When done, slide the frittata off the pan onto a plate and serve.
   
  

Monday, October 18, 2010

Apple Curry Crab Cakes

  
  
Sometimes opposites do attract.  Many of our fall dishes are warm and comforting.  Root vegetables or squash lend themselves to roasting and baking.  The chill in the air lends itself to oven cooked meals, casseroles, ragus.  Autumn's apples around here come from the mountain valleys, which make me think of game, rustic and wild.  But it doesn't have to be that way when selecting recipes to use fall's harvest.  Opposite tastes, like cool, crisp, fresh tastes normally associated with the summer, can also pair well with apples.  This dish plays on that by incorporating apples into crab cakes.  Geographically, these are opposite ingredients.  Local apples here come from the cooler terrain to the west near Virginia's Blue Ridge and the Shenandoah Valley.  Crabs come from the east and the Chesapeake Bay.  Even farther to the east come curry spices, and the cool taste of cilantro.  Isn't going in opposite directions why we travel, to take our lives temporarily to a different place, break ourselves from our routines, the known and comfortable?  This recipe from Food and Wine may be a break from your fall repertoire, but use it to take your fall apple harvest in a new direction.  Serves 4.
     
Ingredients:
3/4 cup mayonnaise
1 tsp curry powder
2 tbsp creme fraiche
2 tbsp lemon juice
1 tbsp chives, snipped
1 tbsp flat-leaf parsley, mined
1 tbsp tarragon, minced
2 apples, such as Granny Smith with 1 cut into thin matchsticks and one diced to produce 1/2 a cup of diced apple
1 1/2 cup panko bread crumbs
1 egg, beaten
1 lb lump crab
1/4 cup canola oil1 tbsp champagne vinegar
1/2 cup cilantro leaves, chopped
     
Directions:
In a bowl, whisk together 1/4 cup mayonnaise with 1/2 tsp of the curry.  Set aside.  In another bowl, combine the remaining mayonnaise, creme fraiche, lemon juice, chives, parsley, tarragon, egg, 1/2 cup of the bread crumbs and diced apple.  Season with salt and pepper.  Place the remaining bread crumbs on a plate.  Form crab cake mixture into 4 patties and coat each in the bread crumbs.  Place the crab cakes on an oiled baking sheet and chill.  Heat 2 tbsp of oil in a large non-stick saute pan over medium heat.  Add the crab cakes and saute until golden, perhaps 5 minutes.  Gently turn the cakes and saute the other side until also golden.  Meanwhile, mix 2 tbsp of the oil, vinegar and 1/2 tsp curry powder.  Add to apple matchsticks and cilantro and toss.  Season the finished crab cakes as desired.  Serve with apple salad and curry mayonnaise.  
     


 

Thursday, October 14, 2010

Pancakes

  
  
In my house, the big fight is between Yoda and the Stormtrooper, or I should say over those two.  If it's Sunday, it's pancakes, and with two boys in the house, the Star Wars shaped pancake molds get a lot of use.  We also have a Darth Vader mold, but no one seems to want to eat Darth Vader pancakes.  I don't think this would hurt Darth Vader's feelings, he's more a fear over love kind of guy.  Yoda, that little green Zen master without an ego, you would think would prefer not to have children idolize him, although his kindness and warmth are a natural attraction to younglings, so he probably doesn't mind.  Clone soldiers I'm sure would love to have boys choose their pancakes, but Stormtroopers and their darker role, I'm not so sure.  I'm sure there would be a memo from Darth to the Stormtroopers discouraging that.
    
Such are the musings you can have on a lazy weekend morning.  While rest is an important part of weekends, so is reconnecting those bonds you share with your loved ones.  They say that families eating dinner together are one of the best way to grow healthy families.  Likewise, I believe that weekend breakfasts serve that purpose and need.  And when you are doing it in your pajamas, you're not just dad anymore, you're that fun guy who's making Star Wars pancakes.  Even if your pancakes are more traditionally shaped, not only are you serving a hearty meal, you are growing the lasting and unbreakable bonds that come with this family togetherness.  This recipe is quick and easy, because this is no time to slave away in the kitchen.  It's a time to grow your family.  May the syrup be with you.  Serves 4.
     
Ingredients:
1 cup flour
2 tbsp sugar
2 tsp baking powder
1/2 tsp salt
1 cup milk
2 tbsp butter, melted
1 egg, beaten
1/8 tsp vanilla
    
Directions:
In a large bowl mix together the flour, sugar, baking powder and salt.  In a small bowl mix together the milk, butter, egg and vanilla.  Combine the wet mixture into the dry mixture, stirring as you slowly poor.  Beat the mixture to combine, although not too much.  Some lumps can remain in the batter.  Add more milk if a looser batter is desired.  Heat a non-stick pan or griddle over medium heat.  Ladle the batter onto the griddle, 1/3 cup at a time.  As bubbles start to form and pop on the tops of the pancakes check the underside.  Flip when golden.  Cook a minute or two longer.  Remove and keep warm in a preheated oven.  Serve with butter and syrup.
   



Wednesday, October 13, 2010

Apple and Bacon Risotto

   
   
Fall comes slowly, subtly at first, the humidity breaks during the day, nights are a little cooler.  The sun is a little lower in the sky, and the tips of the leaves start turning.  This isn't really fall, time of crisp air and warm sweaters.  It's more autumn, that first hint of fall.  This is the time of apples.  Not here, but up in the valleys, the Shenandoah Valley, beyond the Blue Ridge.  There they are harvesting apples in all their variety.  Is Fuji really different than Gala?  How much different is a Braeburn?  Tart apples may be best for pies, but what about in other dishes, like pork?
    
I don't know the answers to many of these questions, but this time of year I do like to cook recipes that include apples.  Pork with apples comes to mind as a natural pairing.  I keep a bottle of Cavaldos, an apple brandy from Normandy, for just such occasions.  This dish picks up the apple and pork theme, plus provides the warm comfort feeling of risotto.  The recipe originally appeared in our local Washington Post, and this being Virginia, it featured 'country' ham.  I'm not a big ham fan, but I do love bacon.  If you are worried about overpowering the dish with a smoked bacon flavor, but still want that browned, caramelized pork taste, substitute pancetta instead.  Either way allows you to saute the rice briefly in pork fat.  How much better can it get?  Additionally, instead of wine as the initial stock for the risotto, apple cider is used.  Top it off at the end as well for an additional apple taste and feel fall at your doorstep.  Serves 4.
     

Ingredients: 
4 slices of bacon, diced
1/2 yellow onion, diced
1 cup arborio rice
1 cup apple cider
4 cups chicken stock
1 apple with 3/4 diced, and 1/4 sliced into thin wedges
1/4 cup Asiago cheese, grated
    

Directions:
In a medium pan over high heat, bring the stock to a boil, and then reduce the heat to a simmer.  In another medium pan over medium heat, add the bacon and cook until it starts to turn brown.  Add the onions and cook until softened.  If there is more than a couple of tbsp of fat in the pan, pour off the extra fat.  Stir in the risotto rice and coat with the bacon fat.  Allow to cook a few minutes and then stir in 1/2 cup of cider.  Bring to a boil and then simmer down until almost gone.  Ladle in 1/2 cup to 1 cup of stock, ensuring that it's at a simmer but not boiling too strongly.  Stir the risotto and slowly cook down the stock.  When almost all of the stock is cooked off, ladle in more of the stock and continue simmering.  Repeat this process for about 20 minutes, until the rice is cooked al dente.  Meanwhile, in a medium saute pan over medium-high heat, add the butter and when melted, add the apple slices and brown slightly.  Remove the slices and add the diced apple.  Cook a few minutes to soften slightly, but not so long that the apple pieces become too soft.  When the rice is almost cooked, taste the rice and if more apple taste is desired, stir in the remaining 1/2 cup of apple cider.  Stir in the cheese and diced apple.  Plate each portion and top with an apple slice.  Serve.
   

Friday, October 8, 2010

Moroccan Lamb Meatballs

  
    
Light and smell dominate the senses in Djemaa el Fna, the market square beneath the Khoutoubia Mosque, gateway to Marrakech's medina.  Flame throwers and snake charmers ply their trades beside food stalls rendering their exotic spiced smells to the skies.  Incandescent bulbs hung from wires across the stalls add to the yellow glow of the night.  People jostle and push, going for a meal or going for your pocket, beggars and backpackers in search of relief to their physical and emotional hunger.  So, to do the lovers next to the Trevi fountain in Rome search for their passion's desires, lit by the flowing water rushing, spraying, splashing.  Trivia, the Roman virgin, being the last thing on their mind.  Until, of course, they smell the artichoke, the eggplant, the meatballs.  
    
Yes, I said meatballs.  Did you hear a scratch in the record too?  Maybe the coin I threw into the Trevi fountain brings my memories back to there, as do the memories of wandering Moroccan medinas.  Maybe I don't think of meatballs when I think of these places I've visited, but I do think, and many times remember, through tastes and smells.  They say that those are the most powerful senses we possess.  Smelling cooking lamb, spices like cumin and coriander certainly gives me flashbacks to Morocco.  Simmering tomato sauce, rosemary, garlic and fennel conjure Italy's Mediterranean fare.  This recipe combines those flavors, those feels, those memories into lovely, lonesome, lust inspiring hunks of cheese filled meat.  Ok, I should stop there.  Let's just say these are good meatballs that made me think of my travels, a crucial element of why I cook.  Andrew Carmellini, of Urban Italian gives us this recipe.  He calls it the Middle East meets Little Italy.  I call it Marrakech meets Rome.  You can call it dinner tonight.
     
Ingredients:
2 tbsp olive oil
1 small onion, chopped
1 clove garlic, minced
1/2 tsp ground coriander
1 tsp fennel seed
1 tbsp rosemary, chopped
1 jar of your favorite tomato sauce
1/4 cup goat cheese
1/2 lb merguez sausage
1 lb ground lamb
1/2 cup bread crumbs
2 eggs
1/2 tsp salt
     
Directions:
Heat the olive oil in a large saute pan over medium heat.  Add the onion and soften for 3 minutes.  Add the garlic and cook a minute further.  Add the coriander, fennel, rosemary and cook another minute to release the flavors in the herbs.  Remove from the heat and allow to cool.  Add the sauce to the pan and bring to a simmer, then cover.  Divide the the goat cheese into 12 pieces, rolling in your hands to make round balls.  Remove the sausage shell casings and with your finger pull apart the sausages into small piecess.  Mix together the sausage, lamb, breadcrumbs, egg, salt, and onion herb mixture.  Use your hands and fingers to mix fully the mixture.  Divide the mixture in half and then those halves themselves in half.  Divide each quarter into thirds and roll those thirds into rough balls.  Make an indentation in each ball with your thumb and insert a goat cheese ball inside.  Form the meat around the cheese and finish rolling the balls into a round shape.  Place the meatballs into the saute pan with the sauce and ensure the sauce is at a simmer, raising the heat if necessary and then lowering again.  Cover the meatballs and cook for 5 minutes.  Turn the meatballs and cook the other side, spooning the sauce on top, about 5 more minutes.  Ladle the meatballs into bowls, on pasta or rice if desired.
     

Wednesday, October 6, 2010

Herb Crusted Lamb with a Vegetable Tian

  
  
Today, I went to the DMV three times. Not once, not twice, but three separate trips to accomplish the needed task.  I arrived early in the morning, 1/2 an hour before it opened, waiting as one of the first people in line, only to be told I needed to have a form I already had also signed by someone else.  Grudgingly, I left the DMV to get the form signed and returned an hour later.  Then, after waiting in line again, the woman at the counter said that I needed an additional form completed and signed.  Shoulders slumped even lower, I shuffled out and went to obtain the necessary signatures before returning again.  On this the third DMV attempt of the morning, I was standing in line when the person in front of me suggested that the security guard had thought momentarily that I had a gun.  I carry a blackberry on my belt and apparently they way it protruded from my side caused the guard a double-take, which my co-sufferer had noticed.  I thought to myself that this morning's experience with government bureaucracy was why everyone hated the DMV and some rare few tragically do bring a gun to solve their problems.  While I was not inspired to "go postal" this morning, the back and forth purgatory reminded me of the multiple shopping trips often required for gourmet recipes.  Trekking across town from supermarket, to wine shop, to gourmet shop, to kitchenware store and back to one or more can wear you out before you even set foot in the kitchen.  However, while there is little satisfaction in completing any DMV experience, the glow in your belly and the faces of your guests quickly melts away pre-dinner troubles.  
   
My recent Gary Danko dinner party featured multiple trips to stores and shops.  The resulting evening of pure dining and communal joy made it all worth the trouble.  This recipe for herb-crusted lamb with a vegetable tian served as the red meat course.  The picture above from a guest at the restaurant (thanks Tammy, I'm sure you had a great 30th birthday!  I was too busy hosting my dinner party to take an actual picture of my meal) hints both at how good this recipe can be and what to do differently at home to save time and expense.  The Gary Danko recipe calls for loin of lamb.  I don't even know if my local stores carry such a thing because I didn't even try.  Instead, I served two french-cut lamb chops on each plate.  Guests were delighted just as much, and I saved myself the extra time and trouble of babysitting roasting loins in the middle of serving a multi-course dinner party.  All of the components were prepared in advance.  The chops received a quick sear in a saute pan on each side to cut cooking time and worry.  Think about modifications like that as you customize recipes to fit your needs.  Many times, similar but different cuts or cooking preparations will reduce your stress and leave your guests just as happy.  Serves 2.
   
Ingredients:
2 tbsp olive oil
4 lamb chops
4 tbsp chopped parsley
1/2 tsp chopped rosemary
1/2 tsp chopped thyme
1 clove garlic
1 small eggplant
1/4 tsp fennel seeds
2 cups veal stock
1 zucchini, sliced into thin rounds
1 bulb fennel, diced
1 onion, peeled and diced
1/2 cup Parmegiano-Reggiano
1/4 cup bread crumbs
1/4 tsp salt
2 tbsp fresh basil, chopped
1 tbsp Herbs de Provence
1 tomato, sliced into 1/4" rounds
1 roasted red pepper
2 sprigs rosemary
    
Directions:
Preheat the oven to 350 degrees.  If working with a rack of lamb, cut into chops.  Clean each of the chops down to the main section of meat on the chop, cutting away and retaining any additional fat along the bone and small parts of meat attached to the chop.  In a bowl, mix together 2 tbsp of parsley with the rosemary, thyme and garlic.  Spoon out onto the lamb chops and allow the chops to marinate.  Cut 2 rounds from the eggplant, about 1/2" thick. Brush a little olive oil on a baking tray and then put down the rounds.  Bake for 10 minutes.  Meanwhile, dice the lamb cuttings into 3/4" pieces and saute in a sauce pan over medium heat.  When the fat is rendered and the remaining meat is browned, poor off the fat.  Deglaze the pan with 1/2 cup of stock, cooking down to a couple of tablespoons.  Add some of the fennel seeds and another 1/2 cup of stock.  Repeat this process until the last of the stock is added and the sauce is reduced to 1/2 a cup or less.  Keep warm.
    
Meanwhile, saute the zucchini rounds in 1 tbsp of olive oil in a saute pan over medium heat.  When the zucchini is soft, remove to a bowl and add the onion and fennel to the pan.  Cook until softened but not browned. Remove from the heat and allow to cool.  Mix together in a bowl the cheese, bread crumbs, salt, basil, 2 tbsp of parsley and the Herbs de Provence.  Assemble the tians by placing a round ring or biscuit cutter on a lightly oiled baking sheet.  Inside, first put down the tomato slice, then spoon enough of the herb mixture to cover.  Then spoon in a layer of onions and fennel, covering again with the herb mixture, and then repeating with successive layers of zucchini, eggplant and roasted red pepper. Place the tians in the oven and bake for 10 minutes.  Meanwhile, warm a large saute pan over medium-high heat.  Add 1 tbsp of oil and then the chops, herb side down.  Saute a few minutes until browned.  Turn the chops and saute a few minutes more until both sides are browned and the middle remains pink.  Remove the chops and allow to rest.  Remove the tians from the oven and use a spatula to pick them up and move to the plate.  Holding down the tian, lift the ring to leave the tian in place.  Stick a spear of rosemary into the top of each tian.  Lean the chops up against the tian. Serve with polenta triangles if desired.  Spoon the sauce onto the tian and chops.  Serve.
    

Tuesday, October 5, 2010

Horseradish Crusted Salmon

  
  
Let me first say that I don't particularly like salmon.  For many years it was the "in" fish, and it certainly is a healthy source of protein.  I just don't like it's taste, simple as that.  Nor do I like horseradish.  Too much for me in whatever you might call that taste.  So, why would I prepare a dish that by all indications I doubly would not like?  No, this is not a posting about growing yourself and your tastes by forcing yourself to eat something you know you don't like.  While I always support trying something new, and sometimes I even follow my own advice, I would never advocate purposely eating something you don't like.  That's not what life, at least through cooking, is about.  But, sometimes it's not about you, it's about your partner in dining pleasure.  The gift is in the giving as they say, and sometimes that means making something you don't like and don't eat just to please another.  
   
Don't get me wrong, I like many kinds of fish, and several kinds of vegetables that others don't like, such as broccoli and cauliflower.  And, indeed, when preparing asparagus or artichokes (also not high on my list) for a guest, I will prepare a side of green beans for myself.  That way everyone is happy.  That, however, becomes a more limited option with a main course, in time, trouble and expense.  For that, the second message of this post is to cook in a way that helps you with taste.  For me, that means making salmon not taste as much like salmon.  I do that by putting on a crust.  A sliced potato crust is always nice on salmon.  Julia Childs and Jacque Pepin have a nice recipe for potato crusted salmon that I make sometimes.  Giada de Laurentiis encrusts fish with purple potatoes for added color as well as taste.  As that technique adds a flavor that virtually all like, and minimizes another that some don't, so does a horseradish crust mellow things out.  Furthermore, the cooking process will also mellow the horseradish.  That on a bed of cucumbers and the mustard sauce as found in this Gary Danko recipe provides a lovely combination.  It served as the second course of a recent dinner party and I urge you to try it any time.  Serves 2.
    
Ingredients:
1/2 shallot, minced
1/4 cup dry white wine
1/4 cup fish stock
1/4 cup clam juice
1 sprig fresh thyme
bay leaf
1 cucumber, peeled and thinly sliced
1 tsp kosher salt
1 3/4 tsp chives, chopped
1 3/4 tsp dill, chopped
1 1/2 tbsp creme fraiche 
1/2 tsp lemon juice
1/2 tsp whole grain mustard
4 inch length of salmon filet, skin removed, cut into 1 inch widths
1/4 cup + 1/2 tsp horseradish
1 egg white
2 tbsp heavy cream
3 tbsp butter
2 tbsp vegetable oil
   
Directions:
In a sauce pan over medium-high heat combine the shallot, wine, stock, clam juice, thyme and bay leaf.  Bring to a boil and reduce to a simmer, cooking until reduced by 2/3.  Meanwhile, combine the cucumber and salt in a bowl and set aside for 15 minutes.  In another bowl, mix 1 1/2 tsp chives, 1 1/2 tsp dill, 1 tbsp creme fraiche and the lemon juice.  Leave out to come to room temperature.  In another bowl, mix the mustard, 1/2 tsp of horseradish, 1/2 tbsp of creme fraiche, 1/4 tsp of dill and 1/4 tsp of chives.  Set aside.  Ready the salmon by rolling it, thick part first, into medallions.  Secure by running a toothpick or skewer horizontally through the medallion starting with the thin flap.  Combine 1/4 cup of the horseradish and the egg white and spoon a dollop of the mixture on top of each salmon medallion, smoothing to cover.  Drain the water from the cucumber and salt and stir in the creme fraiche and lemon mixture.  When the sauce is reduced, stir in the cream and return to a boil.  Whisk in the butter, small pieces at a time.  When fully mixed, strain the sauce, pressing on the shallots to obtain all of the sauce, and return to the sauce pan.   Stir the mustard mixture into the sauce and keep warm.  Heat the oil in a non-stick saute pan over medium-high heat.  Place the salmon in the pan, horseradish side down, cover and sear to form a crust, about 2 to 3 minutes.  Turn the salmon, cover and cook a few more minutes.  Plate by laying down a bed of the cucumber mixture.  Place 2 salmon medallions on top and then spoon the sauce on top and around the plate.
     

Monday, October 4, 2010

Seared Foie Gras with Peaches and Red Onion Compote

  
  
Sometimes, the best part of cooking isn't the cooking, or even the tasting, it's the laughing.  Yes, taking on a gourmet menu with intricate sauces and foreign ingredients will force you to grow as a craftsman.  Tasting dishes in their new and succulent combinations will allow you to grow your palette.  But, cooking also allows you to grow your relationships.  In some ways, the food doesn't matter, it's about the human connections you share and foster.  On the other hand, cooking special food and serving it in a special setting shows people that they are important to you, and that new and exciting experiences can occur together.  So it was when I hosted a dinner party with friends and colleagues.  The food was great, all recipes from the San Francisco chef Gary Danko.  The ingredients were over the top.  I believe one should never eat foie gras more than once a year.  But the most rewarding part for me was hearing the laughter, the uproarious, lusty, throaty laughing emanating from the dining room as I plated dishes, the cheers and by now running jokes as we progressed through the courses.  
     
That was the reason I prepared the dish below, and the several recipes which will follow in future posts.  The picture above is from a dish served at the restaurant (mine of course looked exactly the same ;) ), and the recipe came from the Gary Danko online site.  On the dinner party preparation, to avoid feeling more like a harried line cook than a host, think about preparation timing and what can be made in advance.  Here, I made the onion compote the day before and reheated it when the guests took their seats.  The sauce I made in the morning and rewarmed it starting in the evening before the guests arrived.  And the peaches I prepared in the afternoon, and rewarmed them in the same pan as was used to sear the foie gras as I plated the compote and foie gras.  Serves 6.
    
Ingredients:
3 lbs red onions, peeled and thinly sliced
2 tbsp butter
2 cups chicken stock
1 tbsp salt
2 tbsp balsamic vinegar
3/4 tsp dried thyme
4 tbsp honey
1 tbsp shallot, minced
2 tbsp cognac
1 cup + 3 tbsp orange muscat dessert wine, such as Essensia
4 tbsp honey
4 tsp sherry vinegar
2 cups veal stock
2 tbsp olive oil
2 large peaches, pealed and cut into wedges
1 lb foie gras sliced into finger-width slices
baby mixed greens
     
Directions:
Prepare the compote by melting the butter in a large skillet over medium heat.  Add the onions, chicken stock, vinegar, thyme, honey and salt.  Stir occasionally, turning down the heat if needed to avoid browning the onions.  Cook until the onions are cooked down and finally are caramelized, perhaps 30 minutes.  Add more stock if needed as the onions reduce.  Prepare the sauce in a saucepan over high heat, combine the shallot, cognac, wine, honey, vinegar, and veal stock.  Bring to a boil and then lower the heat to a simmer until reduced by half.  Strain and season to taste, keeping warm in the pan until needed.  Prepare the peaches by heating a non-stick saute pan over medium high heat with 2 tbsp olive oil.  Sear the peaches until golden-brown on both sides, a few minutes each side.  Remove to a bowl.  Prepare the foie gras with a saute pan over medium-high heat.  Add the foie gras and sear until golden brown.  Take care to not over cook the foie gras, which will cause it to melt and start loosing its shape.  Remove rendered fat from the pan with a paper towel if needed.  Turn the foie gras and press down if needed to achieve a sear on the other side.  Remove and drain on paper towels.  Return the peaches to the pan and rewarm.  Plate by first laying down a portion of the compote, then laying 5 or 6 of the peach slices next to each other beside the compote.  Lay a piece of foie gras partially on both.  Place a small portion of the greens beside the compote, opposite the peaches.  Spoon sauce an top of the foie gras and peaches.  Serve.