Penne with Broccoli Rabe and Pancetta

I'll admit that I was a little nervous when I made this a couple of weeks ago while still in NYC.  I had a feeling that R was not going to necessarily appreciate the broccoli rabe, since he's tried it before and hated it.  But as with endive or mustard greens, I've always found the bitterness to be appealing.  Then again, I also find marathons and long-distance triathlons appealing, so perhaps my propensity for a little self-punishment (if we're considering bitter vegetables to be in the same category) is a clue.

As a safety precaution, since I didn't think I'd be able to fully trust R's opinion in the matter, I made this dish when I was planning on feeding a good friend, an innocent bystander, with little knowledge of R's incredibly picky palate.  So at least you can be confident that the vote about this meal was two-to-one, with the bitter-vegetable lover's winning out in the end.

By way of explanation.  R didn't hate this.  He said it was 'okay', and trust me that he would have used a stronger descriptor if he'd had any real feelings about it.  If he'd hated it, for example.  J, the guinea-pig friend, and I ate it up.  Then I continued eating it up for lunch the next day without even offering to share.  The power of a bitter vegetable.

Penne with Broccoli Rabe and Pancetta
Adapted from Ruth Rogers and Rose Gray's River Cafe Cookbook Green

2 large bunches broccoli rabe
1 pound box penne
1/3 pound pancetta, have your butcher finely slice it, then you can julienne it at home
Olive oil for the pan
3 garlic cloves, passed through a press
1 2 pound can of peeled plum tomatoes, or close to that weight it doesn't have to be exact
Salt and pepper to taste
Zest of 1 lemon, be sure to wash before you zest
Handful of parsley, chopped
150 grams Pecorino Romano cheese, grated

Heat the olive oil in a 10" skillet over medium heat. Cook the garlic along with the pancetta until fragrant and lightly browned. In the meantime, strain the canned tomatoes from their juices, retaining half of the juice. Add the tomatoes and the reserved juice to the pan and season with salt. Cook until the juices are quite reduced, stirring occasionally to prevent sticking, 20-30 minutes.

Tear the leaves and buds from the stems of the broccoli rabe. Wash and tear into pieces. Bring a large pot of salted water to boil and plunge the broccoli rabe into the water for 5 minutes. Drain, then put into a bowl along with the lemon zest, the parsley and a good coating of olive oil. Season with salt and pepper.

Bring another large pot of salted water to a boil and cook the penne for the amount of time indicated on the package. Drain and mix into the tomato sauce, then add the broccoli rabe mixture and season again with salt and pepper. Toss to be sure everything is well-coated and serve with the freshly grated cheese.

Applesauce Jellies

I've been getting more into candy making lately (I've always been into eating it), and I guess it's been fairly obvious because when a review copy of Nina Wanat's new book Sweet Confections: Beautiful Candy to Make at Home arrived at my apartment, I was ecstatic.  First of all, it came tied up with a red and white string, literally (if you're humming songs from the Sound of Music right now, you're not alone).  Not just a book on sweet confections, but a sweet confection in itself.

Secondly, as most food-blog enthusiasts would know, when the photo credits are given to Diane Cu and Todd Porter, also known as the White on Rice Couple, they're bound to be stunning.  Every single recipe has been photographed, more than once, and in large, full-page color.  The photos are put to especially good use at the beginning of the book, where ingredients and equipment are introduced.  Particularly helpful is the temperature chart, which demonstrates visually what many books only describe: the precise look of each stage of cooked sugar, from thread to caramel.  Equally useful are explanations of why some cooked sugar preparations should be stirred and some should not, instructions for dipping confections in tempered chocolate and a step-by-step guide for caramelizing sugar.

I made a couple of recipes from the book, including an amazing Chocolate Chip Cookie Dough Fudge and these Applesauce Jellies.  I carted a tray-full of the amber beauties home with me for Christmas and passed them around, waiting for each of my consecutive relatives to try one before declaring (after the requisite expressions of how delicious they were) that I had made them.  If my family wasn't impressed, they did a great job pretending otherwise.

I'm getting less and less intimidated by sugar, and much of that has to do with having purchased a candy thermometer.  It's such a a simple piece of equipment to use and takes all of the guess-work out of candy making.  Most of the recipes in this volume call for one, so if you're really thinking of getting into the world of sugar, it's a purchase you won't regret.  Wanat likens these treats to caramel apples, but you might also think of them as quite firm Turkish delights.  And although she calls the walnuts optional, I personally wouldn't leave them out.

Applesauce Jellies
Excerpted (with permission) from Nina Wanat's Sweet Confections: Beautiful Candy to Make at Home (Lark Publishing; September, 2011)

As these jellies cook, the sugar caramelizes just enough to make them reminiscent of the autumnal thrill of caramel apples.

YOU WILL NEED

8x8-inch baking pan
Plastic wrap
Small bowl
3-quart saucepan
Heatproof silicone spatula
Candy thermometer
Chef's knife

Oil for the pan
2 tablespoons sour cream
2 1/4 cups applesauce, divided
3 tablespoons (3 envelopes) unflavored gelatin
2 3/4 cups sugar
2/3 cup walnuts, coarsely chopped (optional)
1 1/4 teaspoons vanilla extract
Pinch salt
2 cups cornstarch or powdered sugar for coating

METHOD

Line an 8x8-inch baking pan with plastic wrap and coat evenly with oil.

Combine sour cream and 1 1/4 cups of the applesauce in a small bowl. Sprinkle the gelatin on top, and stir until smooth.

Boil the remaining 1 cup of applesauce and the sugar over medium heat in a 3-quart saucepan, stirring occasionally with a heatproof spatula until the sugar dissolves. Add the gelatin mixture in several additions, stirring to dissolve between each. Stir the boiling mixture constantly and gently until it reaches 224F, about 25 minutes.

Remove from the heat, and let sit 5 minutes. Stir in the walnuts, if using, vanilla, and salt, and pour into the prepared baking pan. Let cool until room temperature, and then refrigerate overnight.

Cut into 1-inch squares with a chef's knife. Roll in the cornstarch or powdered sugar. Store in an airtight container.

Variation:
Cinnamon Applesauce Jellies: Add 1 1/2 teaspoons cinnamon to the gelatin mixture.

Rødgrøt med Fløte, Norwegian Red Fruit Pudding

In this, the second post in my review of the new cookbook Gudrun's Kitchen: Recipes from a Norwegian Family (the first post, with more specific information on the book, can be found here), I have to admit right upfront that I committed the cardinal sin of cookbook reviews.  I made a fundamental substitution which certainly changed the final dessert.

But, you see, I had my heart set on this recipe.  A pudding made of stewed red fruit, thickened with a little cornstarch and crowned with billowy whipped cream.  The problem was that I just could not, despite my best efforts, find red currents: fresh or frozen.  So in a moment of bravado, I substituted cranberries, which is not such a far-out move.  For one thing, they're sweet-tart, just like red currents.  They're red, they grow in Norway (where they're called tranebær) and this is precisely the moment when they're available thanks to the holiday season.

It's meant to be served in glasses, but I poured mine into a large souffle pan.  After a stay in the refrigerator overnight, the pudding had firmed up enough to be cut with a knife into pretty little slices with a layer of whipped cream on top.  However, if you serve it closer to when you make it the consistency is more pudding-like and it can be layered into a glass for spooning.  I actually quite liked it with the cranberries, but am definitely planning on making it again next summer when red currents come back into season.  I'd imagine that you could use the same technique on a whole slew of fruits if you're willing to travel a bit from the original recipe.  Strawberries and rhubarb both come to mind, since they would maintain the beautiful jewel-like red that makes the pudding such a stunner.

Rødgrøt med Flote (Red Fruit Pudding)
Reprinted with permission from Gudrun's Kitchen: Recipes From a Norwegian Family, by Ingeborg Hydle Baugh, Irene O. Sandvold, Edward O. Sandvold and Quinn E Sandvold, 2011. Wisconsin Historical Society Press.

This is the pudding that Erik and Quinn loved so much, and after eating it they enjoyed sticking out their red tongues.  Our father asked the grocery store to stock Junket Danish Pudding, but we can no longer fin Junket Danish Pudding or any other brand in the grocery store.  Luckily, this recipe doesn't take too long to prepare.
     If fresh fruit is unavailable, use canned or frozen raspberries and currants.  Don't forget to allow enough time for the pudding to chill and set.  Serves 5 to 6, with sweetened whipped cream.

1 cup fresh red currants (I've already copped to using cranberries)
1 cup red raspberries
1 cup sugar
1/8 teaspoon salt
1 stick cinnamon
1 cup water, divided
3 tablespoons potato flour or cornstarch

Combine fruit, sugar, salt, and cinnamon with 1/2 cup water and cook in a covered pan over medium-high heat for 15 to 20 minutes.  Allow mixture to cool, then strain fruit carefully to remove the seeds, reserving the juice.  Return juice to heat.  In a separate bowl, stir remaining 1/2 cup water into the potato flour or cornstarch to make a smooth paste.  Add paste to the hot juice and stir constantly until the pudding is thick.  Pour into sherbert glasses or a glass bowl and allow to chill thoroughly.