Citrus and Raspberry Terrine

Citrus is one of nature's great afterthoughts.  Just when you're starved for color and can't abide another root vegetable, Mother Nature gives you citrus to keep you going till spring.  A perfect little apology.  There are truly decadent things to do with citrus, things involving lots of chocolate and butter and sugar.  But if you want something a bit simpler (simpler in conceit, anyway, if not in practice) and something a whole lot better for you, may I suggest a Citrus and Raspberry Terrine?  Chunks of orange and grapefruit, suspended in their own juices spiked with tangerine.  When you cut into it, slices peel away like so many shards of stained glass.  

This may, at first glance, appear to be a dump recipe: dump fruit mixed with juice (which contains a bit of unflavored gelatin) into a mold and freeze.  While it is basically that simple, all of the fruit needs to be peeled, and what's more, all of that pith removed.  Peeling citrus would be a great job for a child, if there are any laying around.  But cutting away the pith is a job for a grown up.  The recipe below is very adopted from one in Sarah Leah Chase's wonderful Cold-Weather Cooking.  Her amounts seemed totally off to me, so I changed them.  But the basic premise is the same.

Citrus and Raspberry Terrine

9 medium size oranges (separated, 6 for slicing, 3 for juicing)

2 grapefruits

3 pound bag of tangerines

1/3 cup sugar

1 1/2 tablespoons orange extract

1 1/2 tablespoons unflavored gelatin

1 cup frozen, unsweetened raspberries

This recipe must be made the day before you plan to serve it.

Line a 9 x 5" loaf pan with cling wrap so that there is enough wrap overhanging the edges to cover the top of the terrine while freezing, about 4".

Peel 6 of the oranges and the grapefruit, then cut away all of the white pith with a pairing knife.  Break the fruit into sections, then cut the sections into bite-sized pieces.  Do this all over a bowl that will catch any juice that escapes.  Place the cut sections into another bowl and pour in the frozen raspberries.

Juice the tangerines and 3 of the oranges, then add that juice to any juice remaining in the bowl.  Measure out 2 1/2 cups and strain through a sieve if you haven't been diligent about removing seeds.  

Pour the juice into a saucepan and add the sugar.

In a glass measuring cup, pour the orange extract.  Add water so that you have a total of 1/2 cup of liquid.  Stir in the gelatin and set aside.

Bring the juices to a boil, then lower the heat and simmer for 10 minutes, until the liquid has been reduced by a third.  Whisk in the softened gelatin and stir until it's dissolved.

Pour the juice mixture over the fruit sections and fold carefully to combine, trying not to break apart the fruit sections.  Pour the entire mixture into the loaf pan.  Fold the overhanging cling wrap over the top of the terrine and freeze overnight.

The next day, run a knife around the edge of the terrine to unmold it and  invert it onto a cutting surface.  Slice in 1/2" slices and allow to defrost a bit before serving.  Serve cold, but not frozen, and enjoy a refreshing shot of vitamin C.

Notes:

*  In order to cut the pith away, hold the knife basically parallel to the fruit and slide it under the pith from bottom to top.  It's easiest to do this before the fruit is sectioned.  Don't worry about taking some of the fruit with the pith.  I squeezed the pith over a bowl at the end to get all of that great juice out.

* If you'd rather use orange liqueur instead of orange extract, use a 1/2 cup of liqueur and no water

*  If you have them, blood oranges would be beautiful in this

Tangerine Rye Rolls

I wish I could tell you that I loved these rolls immediately, but I didn't.  In fact, at first, I kind of had to convince myself that I liked them, and even now I'm certain they'd make better sandwich rolls than snacking rolls.  They just need something to stand up to, to push back against, especially because their lingering flavor is slightly sour, slightly, well, beer-like.  I also have to admit that I didn't have fennel seeds.  I could have sworn before hand that I did, but the sad reality is that they were left out of my finished product.

But if I had some soup, some flavorful, hearty, winter soup, I have a feeling these rolls would have been more than happy to strip it all off and dive right in.  Now you have me regretting making these when I had no soup on deck.  Poor lonely little tangerine rye rolls, trying to make their case with no proper accompaniment.  If you decide to give these a try, don't make the same mistake.

Tangerine Rye Rolls

1, 12 oz bottle dark beer 

1/3 cup light brown sugar, packed

1/4 cup molasses

2 tablespoons unsalted butter

2 packages active dry yeast

3 - 3 1/2 cups all-purpose flour

2 teaspoons salt

1 tablespoon fennel seeds

1 tablespoon tangerine zest

2 1/2 cups rye flour

1 large egg, for the wash

1 tablespoon water, also for the wash

Heat the first four ingredients in a small saucepan over low heat.  Stir frequently until the butter melts and the mixture is just warm to the touch.  Pour the liquid over the yeast in a large bowl and let stand for 10 minutes, by which time it should foam.

With a wooden spoon, stir in 1 1/2 cups of the all-purpose flour into the mixture, along with the salt, fennel seeds, and zest.  Continue to stir until all (or most) of the lumps are out.  Begin to gradually stir in the all of the rye flour and enough of the remaining all-purpose flour to form a soft dough.  Remember, you will incorporate more of the all-purpose flour as you kneed.

On a lightly floured surface, kneed the dough until it is smooth and elastic, adding more flour to the surface as it is absorbed by the dough.  This will take around 8 minutes.  Place the dough in a large, buttered bowl, cover and allow to rise in a warm place for about 1 1/2 hours, until the dough is doubled in size (check at the 1 hour mark).

Punch the dough down and set it on a lightly flour surface.  Roll the dough out into a long snake form and cut it into 24 equal pieces.  Roll each piece between the palm of your hands so that it forms a roll (see note).

Place the rolls on two parchment paper-lined baking sheets and allow to rise again for 1 hour.

Preheat the oven to 375.  With a sharp knife, cut a cross in the top of each roll.  Whisk together the egg and the water to make a wash, then brush the wash over each roll with a pastry brush.  Bake the rolls for 20 - 25 minutes, until golden brown and hollow-sounding when tapped.

Notes:

* A good way to get the roll shape is to place a piece of dough in the palm of one hand and kind of smash it with the other.  With fairly hard pressure, begin rotating your hands so that a roll begins to form, slowly and steadily decreasing the pressure until you're rolling around a perfect little ball.  This will allow you to work out any wrinkles from the dough as it's rolled.

*     *     *

This post is being sent off to Wild Yeast for Susan's weekly Yeastspotting!

Gingersnap Toaster-Oven Tarts with Peach Filling

You could, if you wanted, simply call these peach filled ginger cookies.  But then you'd be missing the point.  Because while they're delicious at room temperature, their true personality emerges only when warm.  And after baking, one way to warm them is in your toaster oven.  That way, you're not bound to consuming the entire batch moments after they're done.  That would be a challenge for even the most ravenous. 

Which is not to say that they're not addicting.  And in fact, if you chose to impulsively throw caution out the window, and if you had a little help, I'm fairly certain they wouldn't last to the next day.  For an idea of what actually happened when I made them, just replace "you" with "I" in the above scenario.  Although I'll never admit it.

When I was young and eating pop tarts, I used to nibble around the entire periphery being careful not to get any jam until I was done.  Once the edges were off, it was time to sink my teach into the frosted filling, which would be gone in a matter of bites.  In this case, the crust is not a dry, tasteless vehicle for hot jam and frosting, but a heady mixture of spices that envelops a filling of peaches cooked in browned butter, their juices becoming a sort of sauce.  Heaven.

Gingersnap Toaster-Oven Tarts with Peach Filling

From Sherry Yard's Desserts by the Yard

For the Gingersnap Dough

2 cups all purpose flour, plus more for dusting

1 teaspoon baking soda

4 ounces (I stick) unsalted butter, cold and cut into 1/2" pieces

2 tablespoons sugar

1/2 cup packed light brown sugar

1/4 teaspoon salt

1 tablespoon ground ginger

1 1/2 teaspoons ground cinnamon

1/2 teaspoon ground allspice

1/8 teaspoon ground cloves

1 large egg, at room temperature

3 tablespoons molasses

Sift together the flour and baking soda and set aside.

With a stand mixer fitted with a paddle attachment, cream the butter on medium speed for about 2 minutes, until it's bright yellow.  In a separate bowl, mix together the sugars, slat and spices, then add the mixture to the butter.  Scrape the sides of the bowl down, then continue to cream the mixture on medium speed for about another minute.  The mixture should be smooth and free of lumps.  

With the mixer off, add the egg and molasses, then mix on medium for another minute until everything is incorporated.  On low speed, add the sifted flour and beat on low until everything is incorporated.  Scrape down the sides of the bowl.

Press the dough into a 1" rectangle, wrap in plastic wrap and chill in the freezer for 30 minutes, or in the refrigerator for 2 hours (you can keep it at this point wrapped in the fridge for 3 days, or in the freezer for 1 month).

Roll out the dough between two sheets of parchment paper to a 12" square.  Dust with flour if it sticks, and place the dough, which should still be between the paper, into the freezer for 30 minutes.

For the Filling

2 tablespoons butter

package of frozen peaches, thawed and drained, or 3 fresh peaches

3 tablespoons sugar

1/8 teaspoon ground cinnamon

Heat a large, heavy skillet over high heat and melt the butter.  It should turn light brown after about 5 minutes.  Add the peach slices in a single layer and cook for about 2 minutes, then sprinkle with the sugar and cinnamon.  Continue to cook, stirring, for about 5 more minutes, until the peaches are tender (I used frozen, fresh peaches may take a bit less time).  Take the pan off the heat and allow to cool.  Chop the peaches into small pieces.

Preheat the oven to 350, with a rack in the middle.  Line two baking sheets with parchment paper.

Putting it Together

Take the dough out of the refrigerator, and flour both sides of the dough.  On a floured surface, cut the dough into 16 3" squares and place a blob of filling in the center of 8 of them.  It's easiest to transfer the first 8 squares to the baking sheets as you cut them.  Cover the first 8 squares with the last 8.  Pinch the edges together so that the squares look like ravioli and sprinkle sugar generously over the top.  Bake for 12 to 18 minutes, the dough should be crisp and fragrant.  Serve warm.

Homemade Twix Bars

When I say homemade Twix bars, I do so only because I want you to have a frame of reference.  These are infinitely better for a few reasons: 1) The caramel to cookie ratio is skewed further in favor of a luscious homemade caramel based not only on the standard milk, sugar and butter, but also on sweetened condensed milk and golden syrup.  2) The cookie base is an easy press-in affair of butter, wonderful butter.  3)  And the whole thing is spread lightly with bittersweet chocolate that gives easily to the teeth before they meet a bit of carmelly resistance.  

And homemade Twix bars seem to endlessly reinvent themselves.  Straight from the refrigerator, they are solid and chewy, the carmel yielding only as you work it around a little.  Left out on a platter they become meltingly soft, even gooey.  They fill the mouth rather than fight it.  I like them both ways, but am perhaps a bit more addicted when they are room temperature.  If you decide to give them a try, you'll have plenty to decide for yourself.

Homemade Twix Bars

From Sherry Yard's  Desserts by the Yard

For the Shortbread

1 stick plus 3 tablespoons butter (5 1/2 ounces), softened

1/4 cup sugar

2 cups cake flour

2 tablespoons ground rice

With a rack in the lowest portion of the oven, preheat to 350.  Spray a 9x13" baking pan with cooking spray, line with parchment paper, then spray the paper.

In a stand mixer with the paddle attachment, or with a hand mixer, cream the butter and sugar together on medium speed for about 2 minutes.  It should be fluffy.  Gradually add in the flour and the rice until the dough comes together.

Press the dough into the bottom of the prepared pan and bake for 12 minutes.  Rotate the pan and continue to bake for another 8 minutes.  The shortbread should be a deep golden brown.  Cool on a rack to room temperature, still in the pan.

For the Caramel

2 cups sugar

3/4 cup Lyle's Golden Syrup

1/2 cup water

1 teaspoon lemon juice

1 cup heavy cream 

1 cup sweetened condensed milk

In a large saucepan, stir together the sugar, syrup, water and lemon juice.  Wet the sides of the pan with a little water if any of the ingredients have crept up.  Cover the saucepan and cook it over medium heat for 4 minutes.  

Remove the lid, increase the heat and bring the mixture to a boil.  Do not stir.  The mixture will bubble, and if sugar appears on the sides of the pan, brush them back down with a wet pastry brush.  The bubbles will continue to get larger.

In the meantime, bring the heavy cream to a boil in a small saucepan.   Remove from the heat and set aside.

Return to the sugar mixture, which will turn golden brown after 5 or 6 minutes.  With a candy thermometer, make sure the mixture has reached 300, then remove the pan from the heat and let it rest for 1 minutes, until the bubbles subside.  Whisk in the heavy cream off the heat and whisk in the condensed milk.  Continue to whisk until the mixture is smooth

Return the saucepan to medium heat and stir constantly until the caramel reaches 240.  Pour over the shortbread and allow to set.

For the Chocolate

6 ounces bittersweet chocolate, finely chopped

2 tablespoons butter

In a double boiler or in the microwave set on half strength, melt the chocolate and butter.  Stir until smooth.  Pour evenly over the caramel and let sit at room temperature or in the refrigerator until set.

Slice and serve.

Notes:

*  Ms. Yard uses this technique for making caramel (I assume) to avoid having to stand over the stove stirring the entire time.  Milk burns easily, which is why it's added at the end and why the stirring occurs after it's added.  If you're careless like I was and dump all of the ingredients together at the same time, all is not lost, but you will have to stir the entire time, until the mixture reaches the 240 mark.

*  For some reason, I didn't find bittersweet chocolate and used semisweet instead.  No harm done.

* UPDATE: For ground rice, simply put dry rice into a food processor and grind away until you have a fine powder.  Then pass through a sieve to get any chunks out, process one more time, and measure out 2 tablespoons.  Ground rice is NOT the same thing as rice flour, so don't substitute. 

Shrimp Creole

This is a fairly paired-down shrimp creole, perhaps not for the purist.  But it's also a "pantry dish" in that most of what is required, you probably already have.  If I had been feeling a bit more ambitious, I might have chosen to build layers of flavor with homemade shrimp stock made with shrimp heads and shells and a leftover fish carcass.  Shrimp heads, which we hardly ever see in the US, have the benefit of being relatively fatty and are naturals at contributing their lushness to a stock.  I might also have added in pork lard, if I were feeling authentic.  

But I wasn't and this dish was never meant to be a project.  You have to choose your battles, after all, and this was lunch on a Sunday afternoon.  Instead, it's the sort of thing that comes together easily and satisfies mightily.  I doubt it would hold up in a head to head comparison with the "real stuff" as far as decadent flavor.  But sometimes decadence is not what you're after, and enough is as good as a feast.

Simple Shrimp Creole

Adopted from Rosalea Murphy's The Pink Adobe Cookbook

1 large onion, sliced

3 stalks celery, chopped

Olive oil for the pan

1 tablespoon mild chili powder (but regular is fine)

2 tablespoons flour

1 14 ounce can Italian seasoned diced tomatoes

1 cup cooked green peas

2 teaspoons sugar

7 drops Tabasco sauce

Salt to taste

1 cup white win

1 pound shrimp, shelled, deveined and cooked

3 cups cooked rice

Sauté the onion and the celery over medium heat in the olive oil until transparent.  Add in the chili powder and the flour and mix thoroughly.  Mix in the tomatoes and peas and bring to a simmer.  

Add the sugar and Tabasco, and season with salt to taste.  Add the white wine and simmer until the sauce is thickened, about 15 minutes.  Add the shrimp and toss to coat.  Continue cooking only until the shrimp are heated through.  Serve over rice.

Notes:

*  It's fine to use frozen green peas, but thaw them out before you use them.

*  The recipe originally called for a 17 ounce can of tomatoes, but I had a 14 ounce can of tomatoes in Italian seasoning, which worked out well because the herbs replaced the thyme and basil one might usually find in a shrimp creole.

*  I used 1 cup of brown Texmati rice, which required 2 1/4 cups of water.  Brown rice usually requires more water than white rice does, so follow package instructions.

*  If you start the rice at the beginning of the process, you'll finish just after the rice has been taken off the heat and given a little time to rest (this is done so that the moisture will redistribute and all the rice will be fluffy, not just the rice on the top).

St. Tropez Chicken

If you, like me, have finally overcome the stumbling block of cutting up your own chicken, perhaps you crave a simple but endlessly satisfying meal after all of that hard work.  This is one such meal.  It's almost embarrassingly simple, yet the flavor will never give you away.  R and I both loved this, the chicken stays moist and falls off the bone.  And from a girl used to cooking boned, skinned chicken breasts, the flavor is incomparable.  Thanks, Nigella, I'm a believer.  

St. Tropez Chicken

1 large chicken, cut up into serving pieces

Juice of 1 lemon

1/4 cup olive oil

1/4 cup honey

1/2 cup rosé or white wine

2 garlic cloves, crushed

1 tablespoon herbes de provence

In a large freezer bag, place the chicken pieces.  Combine the lemon juice, the oil and the wine, then whisk in the honey to dissolve.  Pour this mixture over the chicken, and add the garlic and herbs.  Seal the bag and refrigerate overnight or up to two days.

Preheat the oven to 325.  Put the chicken into a roasting pan along with the marinade, skin side up.  Cover with foil and cook for 2 hours.  Remove the foil and increase the oven temperature to 425.  Continue to cook for an additional 15 - 25 minutes, until the chicken is nicely browned.  

Remove the chicken to a warm plate and cover to keep warm.  Transfer the roasting pan to the stove and spoon off any excess fat from the sauce.  Add 1/2 cup water and deglaze the pan.  Spoon the sauce over the chicken and serve.  

UPDATE:  I realize that while I had "wine" in the ingredient list, I forgot to mention when to add it.  It should go into the marinade along with the other ingredients.  I've corrected the recipe above.

How to Cut Up a Chicken

There are a few culinary miracles I feel I should be able to accomplish.  Baking bread, making a pie crust from scratch, putting up my own preserves, and cutting up a whole chicken, for example.  Although not technically miracles, I suppose, these are some of the feats that might send shutters down the novice cook's spine (like me, for instance).  There seems to be a dividing line between those who can, and those who wish they could.  Yet, I've found, when faced head-on, these obstacles often become close friends.  Such is the case with cutting up a whole chicken.  Time was when I flipped past a recipe that dared suggest such a process because the process itself never seemed to be delineated.  But in this time of economic hardship, a whole chicken ends up  being the frugal way to go.  And an opportunity to broaden your arsenal, if you like to think of cooking as a war.  Which sometimes, it is.

To Cut up a Chicken

Although cutting up a chicken can be done with nothing more than your chef's knife, I find kitchen sheers to be an even easier way to go, especially if your knife is a little dull from all the holiday cooking.  Below, I use both.

1.  Slit the skin at the chicken's hip joint so that you can remove the thigh.

2.  With your hands, bend the thigh back until the bone pops out of the joint and is exposed.

3.  Cut along the broken joint in order to remove the thigh from the body.  Repeat on the other side.

4.  Using steps 1 - 3, separate the thigh from the drumstick by slitting the skin, breaking the joint and cutting it away.

5.  Repeat the same steps with the wing: slit the skin, break the joint and cut it away from the body.  Repeat with the other wing.

6.  Using kitchen sheers (or a sharp knife) cut around the breast in order to remove it from the back (see picture).

7.  Divide the breast in half into 2 lengthwise pieces by cutting down the middle with your kitchen sheers.

8.  Admire your handiwork.

Need to figure out what to do with your chicken once it's cut up?  Try this:

St. Tropez Chicken

Chickpea Stew with Chorizo and Meatballs

Sometimes you have to concede to your audience.  Sometimes you have to give the people what they want.  R has eaten patiently through countless veggie soups, veggies stuffed, veggies in salads and veggies all on their own.  For this, I never apologize.  It's healthier, for one.  And for two, I'm doing the cooking, so I normally choose the dish.

But this time.  This time, Anya von Bremzen convinced me to add a little meat.  Although I'm fairly certain that Anya could convince me of most anything.  She's earned that kind of trust.  She's like the decisive best friend who's not afraid to make up your mind for you.  And with her, if it looks too good to be true, it's probably great.  I wish I could intrust to her the more important decisions of my life, but when it comes right down to it, there aren't a lot of decisions I consider more important than what I'm going to eat.  I have a feeling that Anya is right there with me.

If you still haven't looked through her almost perfect The New Spanish Table, please don't tell me.  Just get to a library, or book store, or amazon and rectify the situation.  I'm not protective over my best friends, after all, and I'm more than glad to share.  If you need more convincing first, give this soup a go.  Although it's delicious from the very beginning, it (like all soups, friendships and my dog) only gets better with age.

Chickpea Stew with Chorizo and Meatballs

For the Chickpeas

1 cup dried chickpeas, soaked overnight

1 bay leaf

6 ounces sweet Spanish-style chorizo sausage

Once the chickpeas are soaked, place them in a large pot and add cold water to cover them by 2 inches.  Bring the water to a boil over high eat, add the bay leaf and reduce the heat to low.  Simmer, partially covered, for 1 hour.  You may need to replenish the water periodically in order to maintain the level.

After 1 hour, boil the chorizo in a separate pot for 2 minutes.  Use tongs to transfer the chorizo to the chickpeas and continue to cook for another 30 minutes, until the chickpeas are tender, but still firm.

For the Meatballs

2 slices white sandwich bread, crusts removed

10 ounces ground pork

1/4 cup grated onion

1 small egg, lightly beaten

1/2 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper

Olive oil for the pan

While the chickpeas cook, soak the bread in cold water for 5 minutes.  Drain the bread, and squeeze out the excess water.  Finely crumble the bread into a dish, to which you will add the pork, onion, egg, salt and pepper.  Knead the ingredients together.  If the mixture is too moist to form balls, simply refrigerate for 30 minutes (don't worry, you'll have time).

Preheat the oven to 425 and, with oiled hands, roll the mixture into small balls the size of cherry tomatoes.  Place the balls on a baking sheet and bake for 12 minutes.  Shake the balls around a bit part way through baking, or use a spatula to unstick them from the sheet.  Set aside.

For Finishing the Stew

2 tablespoons olive oil

1 medium onion,  chopped

1 medium carrot, diced

4 medium garlic cloves, passed through a press, and divided

2 large ripe tomatoes, chopped

1 teaspoon smoked sweet Spanish paprika

3 tablespoons chopped fresh flat-leaf parsley

Salt to taste

Heat the olive oil in a pan and sauté the onion, carrot and half of the garlic on medium-low.  The veggies should be tender but not brown, about 5 minutes.  Add the tomatoes, cover the skillet and continue to cook for 5 minutes.  Stir in the paprika, then stir the entire tomato mixture into the chickpeas.  Continue to cook the stew for 15 more minutes.

Using your tongs again, transfer the chorizo from the stew to a cutting board and carefully slice it up.  Return the chorizo to the pot and stir in the meatballs.  Cook for 5 more minutes.

With a mortar and pestle, crush the remaining garlic, the parsley and a pinch of salt into a paste.  Stir the paste into the soup and let the whole thing cook for 5 minutes more, to allow the flavors to meld.  Serve and enjoy.

Notes:

*  To soak chickpeas, simply fill a bowl with water to a depth of 2" above the beans and set out overnight.  Easy peasy.

*  Oops.  I chopped my onion for the meatballs instead of grating it, but everything was fine.

*  If all you have are large eggs, simply beat your egg, but just don't add all of it to the meatballs.  No reason to run out and buy a different size.

*  This time of year, you can get away with using canned tomatoes instead of fresh.

Lentil and Wild Mushroom Hash with Poached Eggs

I need to talk to you about breakfast.  I think we should bring it back.  There's much to be said for picnic lunches, dinners both family and candle lit, and midnight snacks.  But nothing can approach the intimacy of breakfast.  I suppose you can guess that I'm talking about the long and lazy weekend kind, rather than the hurry as you run out the door before work/school and grab a granola bar kind.  I really prefer the former.  Want a few reasons why?  Check out Bordeaux's series on breakfast that he kicked off today on his always wonderful Marita Says (named for his mother, aaww!).  There's something deliciously voyeuristic about peaking into someone else's breakfast, in a way that's just not true of dinner.  Dinner is often a statement meal, most cookbooks are focused around it, as is our restaurant culture, by and large.  But seeing what people make for breakfast when they have hours to spare on a weekend morning is a much more intimate, pajama-clad portrait.  

So I'm going to let you in on our first meal today, and I have to tell you, this was amazing.  This, my friends, was crazy good.  I try to reserve such high praise, but this little number deserves it.  And it's not even strictly breakfast food.  The recipe for this Lentil and Wild Mushroom Hash with Poached Eggs comes from one of my all-time favorites: Anya von Bremzen's The New Spanish Table.  If there's one culture that knows its way around eggs, it's the Spanish, who would never dream of restricting them to the earliest meal.  This would make a head-spinningly delicious dinner, but for breakfast, it's indulgent without being unhealthy, involved without being difficult.  

If you've never had the pleasure of breaking a perfectly poached egg over a bed of anything other than toast, now is the time to try it.  In this case, the yolk makes for a surprisingly velvety and flavorful sauce as it coats the nutty lentils and dances with a drizzle of syrupy balsamic vinegar.  This is one encounter that is not to be missed.

Lentil and Wild Mushroom Hash with Poached Eggs

3/4 cup lentils, rinsed

5 garlic cloves, 2 mashed and 3 pressed

1 small bay leaf

Olive oil for the pan

Salt and Pepper for seasoning

10 oz. assorted wild mushrooms, coarsely chopped, or you can leave some of them whole

2 tablespoons dry sherry or dry red wine

3 tablespoons minced fresh flat-leaf parsley, plus more for garnish

4 - 6 large eggs (depending on how many you're serving)

3 tablespoons syrupy aged balsamic vinegar (see note)

1/2 tablespoon sherry vinegar

To Cook the Lentils

In a medium sauce pan, place the lentils and cover with water by 2 inches.  Bring to a boil over high heat, stirring at first.  Add the 2 smashed garlic cloves and the bay leaf, then reduce the heat so that the liquid simmers.  Partially cover and cook until the lentils are tender, but still firm.  For Puy lentils, this took 30 minutes, but start checking at 20.  Drain the lentils and discard the garlic and bay leaf.  Set aside.

For the Mushrooms

Heat the oil in a large skillet over medium-high eat and fry the pressed garlic until fragrant, about 30 seconds.  Add the mushrooms and cook for 5 minutes, stirring.  Add the sherry or wine and continue cooking until the mushrooms are tender and the liquid is absorbed, about another 3 minutes.  Season with salt and pepper and add the drained lentils.  Cook for 2 minutes more, just enough to allow the flavors to meld, then stir in the parsley.  Correct the seasoning if necessary and remove from the heat.

Poach the eggs using your favorite method.  Whisk together the balsamic and sherry vinegars. 

To serve

Mound the lentil and mushroom hash on a plate, top with a poached egg, then drizzle the vinegar mixture on top.  You might also drizzle a little flavorful olive oil around the plate, and garnish with a bit more parsley.  

Notes:

* I used French du Puy lentils which keep their shape and maintain a bit more bite through cooking.  I highly recommend them.

*  If you don't have a syrupy aged balsamic vinegar (as I didn't) don't let that deter you, and don't skip it.  Simply reduce 1/3 cup regular balsamic vinegar over medium-high heat until it is 3 tablespoons

*  I didn't have any dry sherry on hand, so I used 2 tablespoons of a dry red wine.  That worked out just fine.

*  I made 4 eggs for 2 of us, but R could easily have eaten another.

*  For added interest, I chopped some of the mushrooms and left others whole.  You can choose to chop all of them if you like.

*     *     *

I'm sending this in to Cooking 4 All Seasons for the monthly My Legume Love Affair, which was started by Susan of the Well Seasoned Cook.

Cornmeal Buttermilk Pancakes

I think I want to marry these pancakes.  Or at least, I wouldn't complain if they were waiting for me each and every morning, in all of their pillowy glory.  I would  be willing to make that commitment.  Especially because they're extremely versatile.  I've made them several ways, just as Mollie Katzen suggests in her Sunlight Café.  First, try them just plain with only the addition of a bit of vanilla.  This way, they're happy to soak up pools of real Vermont maple syrup, which you should seek out over the pretend, carmel-colored stuff.  

Otherwise, you might add sautéed veggies  like a bit of red (or green, or orange!) bell pepper, fresh (or frozen) corn kernels, minced scallion and even jalapeño, depending on how you like to start your day.  If it's summer where you live, you should consider adding fruit: blueberries, blackberries, raspberries... The possibilities are endless, which in my book, makes for a very happy and healthy long-term relationship.

Cornmeal Buttermilk Pancakes

1/2 cup cornmeal

1/2 cup flour

1/2 teaspoon salt

1 teaspoon baking powder

1/2 teaspoon baking soda

1 tablespoon sugar

1 cup buttermilk

2 large eggs

1 teaspoon vanilla extract

1 tablespoon unsalted butter, melted

In a medium bowl, whisk together the dry ingredients.  Beat the eggs into the buttermilk and then beat in the vanilla.

Pour the buttermilk mixture, along with the melted butter, into the dry ingredients.  Fold the mixture to combine with a rubber spatula so that all the dry ingredients are moistened.  Do not overmix.  

Heat a skillet over medium for a few minutes, then spray with nonstick cooking spray.  Using a 1/4 cup measure with a handle, ladle the batter onto the skillet.  

Cook the pancakes for around 3 minutes on the first side, 2 minutes on the second.  They should be uniformly golden brown.  You'll know when to flip when you start to see bubbles on the surface of the uncooked side.  Serve with your preferred toppings.

Notes:

*  Be sure to use the fine ground cornmeal, not the coarser sort used for polenta

*  For a savory version: omit the sugar, vanilla and melted butter. Sauté 1/4 cup bell pepper, 2 cups of corn kernals, 1/4 cup minced scallion and up to 1/4 cup minced jalapeño.  Sauté in olive oil for 10 minutes, then add to the batter along with the buttermilk mixture.

*  If you use frozen corn, defrost them before sautéing. 

*  Don't think for a moment that you have to reserve your maple syrup only for the plain pancakes.  You'd be surprised how tasty it is slathered on hot and savory cakes as well!

Chorizo Stuffed, Bacon Wrapped, Pitted Dates

My sister made these over the holidays.  They are blood-thickening.  But oh, they're worth it.  This is why you serve them as appetizers to a large group, so you won't be tempted to polish them all off on your own.  You see, I'm just looking out for your well-being.  But New Year's Resolutions aside, these are easy, and unexpected, little nibbles that will delight everyone they come in contact with.  A perfect combination of salty, sweet and savory.  

Now you can have it all, rolled up into one.

Chorizo Stuffed, Bacon Wrapped, Pitted Dates

Note: quantities are up to you and depend on the number of people you plan on serving

Pitted dates

Several slices of bacon (uncooked)

Chorizo sausage in casing (cooked or uncooked), spicy chorizo is wonderful, but it's a matter of personal preferance.

Slice one side of the dates to open them up, but don't cut them clear in half, you want one side to remain intact. Remove the sausage from the casing and stuff a bit of the chorizo into each date. Wrap the date around the sausage, then wrap the date with some of the bacon. Secure each date with a toothpick.

Heat a skillet over medium to medium-high heat, you don't really need to add oil as the bacon should do the job for you. Pan fry the dates on each side until the bacon turns dark brown, even a little blackened and the sausage is cooked through, 7-9 minutes total. Drain the dates on paper towles before plating. Serve to ooohs and aaaahs.

Lebkuchen, A Soft Gingersnap

I wish I could tell you that this is an old family recipe, passed down through the generations.  But this, I'm afraid, isn't even traditional.  It's more of a cheat's lebkuchen, a healthy-conscious, lazy cheat.  Technically, this would be considered a Honiglebkuchen, or a honeyed gingerbread.  Yet, as far as I can tell, this type would normally feature various dried fruits and chopped nuts.  In this recipe, the rye flour steps in for the nuts to impart texture without, however, tasting of rye.  The glaze is also missing, replaced by a sprinkling of rock sugar.  

You might be able to guess, but this is not an eye-closing, moan-inducing, ecstasy-producing kind of cookie.  Cookies like that can only support momentary encounters anyway, you wouldn't want them to become too familiar.  This, on the other hand, is comforting, wholesome even, something you could sit down and have a conversation with.  It doesn't necessitate anything fancy in the making or in the eating.  So you don't have to feel too guilty if you polish off the entire batch in two days.  I didn't.

Lebkuchen

2 1/4 cups rye flour

1 cup Turbinado Sugar 

1 teaspoon ground ginger

1 teaspoon ground cinnamon

1 teaspoon ground cloves

2 eggs, beaten

1 lemon zested

1/4 cup honey

Stir together the flour, sugar and spices.  Make a well in the middle of the wet ingredients and add the eggs, lemon and honey.  Begin combining with a wooden spoon, and switch to kneading with your hands when it thickens.  Shape dough into a ball, wrap in plastic wrap and refrigerate for at least 1/2 hour.

On a lightly floured surface, roll the dough out to a 1/2" thickness and cut into desired shapes.    Bake at 350 for 10-15 minutes on a greased cookie sheet until golden brown.  Decorate as you wish, or leave plain.

Notes:

*  If you'd like, you can beat an egg and brush the cookies with the egg wash before baking (I didn't bother)

Peppery Peasant Bread, the Bread that Bites Back

There are breads that are meant to fade into the background, to serve as vessels for their toppings only.  Some privilege texture over flavor, with an almost melting crumb, chameleon-like in their ability to absorb the flavors with which they come in contact.  Like a person who never disagrees and is endlessly easy to get along with.  I love those breads.  The peasant breads perfect for sandwiches, even as a base for soups.  This is not such a bread.  Not nearly so polite, it would never be satisfied to agree for the sake of agreeing.  

But it is intoxicating.  It barely needs any adornments at all.  And it is certainly not going to ask your forgiveness if its flavor is overpowering.  This sort of bread is a thrill to be around, but in spurts.  It won't become your standard, never your closest friend, but a once-in-a-while exhilarating companion.  

Peppery Peasant Bread

From Sylvia Thompson's Feasts and Friends: Recipes from a Lifetime

1 package active dry yeast

2 cups milk, warm 

2 teaspoons salt

1 1/2 tablespoons olive oil

2 1/3 cups unbleached flour, plus more for dusting and adding

2/3 cup whole wheat flour

Rounded 1 tablespoon of caraway seeds

1 teaspoon dried dill weed

2 teaspoons black pepper

1/8 teaspoon nutmeg

1/8 teaspoon ginger

1 1/2 cups rye flour

Cornmeal for baking sheet

In your mixing bowl, stir together the yeast and milk and allow the yeast to proof for about 5 minutes.  With a paddle attachment, stir in the salt, oil and unbleached flour and beat with a mixer for 2 minutes.  Beat in the whole wheat flour, seeds and spices.  Then beat in the rye by the half-cup.  Allow the dough to rest for 5 minutes then switch to the dough hook.  It's best to work with this bread in a mixer because the dough is extremely sticky.  

Kneed the dough in the mixer for 10 minutes.  You will probably need to add additional flour for the dough to form a ball around the dough hook.  My dough never actually released from the bottom of the mixing bowl, but it did eventually form a ball after the addition of quite a bit more flour.

Oil a large bowl and place the dough inside.  Turn the dough around so that the top is oiled (this will also help relieve some of the stickiness) and pat the top down to form a smooth surface.  Cover the bowl with plastic wrap and then with a damp towel and allow the dough to rise until doubled in size, about 1:30 - 1:45 hours.

Punch the dough down and knead out the bubbles.  Oil the bowl again, add the dough, and turn it over so that it is well oiled.  Allow to rise as before, and for about the same amount of time.

Punch the dough down again and knead out the bubbles.  As you do so, form the dough into a ball and pinch the bottom seam closed.  Oil a heavy baking sheet, sprinkle with cornmeal and put the dough on it.  Brush the dough with additional oil, cover sort of thickly with flour and then cover with a dry towel.  Let rise as before, only this time it should take about 1 hour.  

After about 50 minutes, when the dough has almost doubled in size, preheat the oven to 450.  Use a sharp blade or knife to slash the top of the dough.  Spritz your oven (ceiling, floor, all walls) with water.  Place the baking sheet in the oven, and spritz the dough and the entire oven one more time with water.

For the first 15 minutes of baking, spray the dough and the oven with water every 3 minutes for a total of 4 times.  After 15 minutes, reduce the heat to 350 and bake for 15 minutes more.  The bread should sound hollow when tapped.  Remove from the oven and cool on a rack before slicing.

* You can use any type of milk you wish, including non-dairy and low fat.

*  You can use fennel in place of the caraway seeds 

*  If you can find rye meal, that would be even better than rye flour

*  At first, I was a bit concerned by how sticky the dough was, but the multiple oilings really help to calm it down.  Don't be afraid to add more flour as you mix until it begins to form a ball, but know that more flour equals a heavier bread (not necessarily a bad thing).  

*  All the spritzing helps to form a wonderfully crusty crust

*     *     *

I'm sending this over to Susan at Wild Yeast for her weekly YeastSpotting!

German Potato Pancakes

For a certain segment of the population, potato pancakes can incite a strong emotional reaction.  Should they be thin?  Lacy little doilies of potato, as much fry as starch.  This kind should be eaten immediately, straight from griddle to mouth, without even pausing at a plate if possible.  Like the finest shredded hash-brown.  

In my family, however, potato pancakes have always been thick.  A crisp crust that resists the teeth at first, but crumbles into a silky center of potato spiked with onion.  These are the kinds of cakes that shoulder the weight of apple sauce and sour cream without so much as a shudder.  And if you have leftovers, they can even be enjoyed again the next day (but please re-crisp them in the oven).

As with all of my old family recipes, these come straight out of tradition and I haven't messed with them.  My grandmother claims that this is the way her mother made them (although now we use a food processor, we're just not that home-spun).  Maybe you'll want to have a go at it as well.

German Potato Pancakes

5 red potatoes, peeled

4 eggs

1 onion

1/2 cup flour

1 tablespoon salt
Olive oil

Cut the potatoes in cubes so they fit in the food processor. Place one potato and one egg into the food processor and pulse until the potato is shredded so that it doesn't become mush. Transfer the potato mixture to a bowl. Repeate with the rest of the potatoes and eggs, adding in 1/2 an onion to two of the potatoes before processing. You will have 1 more potatoe than egg.

Once all of the potatoes are processed, add the flour and salt and fold it in. As you stir, look for large chuncks of potatoe that may have slipped through and remove them.

Coat the bottom of a pan with oil and heat on medium until the oil shimmers. Add the batter to the pan in quarter cups, just as you would with normal pancakes. Cook until golden brown and then flip. Once cooked through, transfer to papertowel lined plates to drain, keep in a slow oven if necessary to keep warm before serving with a generous dollop of apple sauce or sour cream.

Vegetable Upside-Down Cake

Nothing too exotic, nothing very strange (although I often seek out just those qualities).  This is my sort of comfort food.  After all, there's nothing comforting about being weighed down by your food.  Nothing comforting about feeling your stomach fill up and over and about carrying that around for hours.  I do not want to be put into a coma by my food, unless, of course, it is a special occasion (and I have a pretty inclusive definition of special occasions).  

But for it to be comforting, it needs to be warm, it needs to have at least some bulk (so steamed vegetables will never count) and it needs to have flavor.  Color never hurts, either.  I am an eternal sucker for color.  

Here the ingredients themselves are nothing out of the ordinary, but the preparation sure is.  A medley of gently sautéed vegetables, use your favorites of course, topped by a yogurt-herbed quick bread that bakes up into a flavorful, savory cake.  Flipping can be tricky, but this is comfort food, and comfort food should never cause anxiety.  You can call it rustic if that makes it easier, and embrace the explosion of vegetables over the plate. 

Vegetable Upside-Down Cake

adapted from Mollie Katzen's Enchanted Broccoli Forest

For the Vegetables

Oil for the pan

3 tablespoons panko (or any bread crumbs)

1 onion, chopped

1 head broccoli, chopped

1 large carrot, chopped

1 teaspoon salt (or to taste)

1 red bell pepper, chopped

1 cup corn 

5 cloves garlic, passed through a press

Assertive pinch of black pepper, to taste

Assertive pinch of cayenne, to taste

bunch of scallions, minced

Oven preheated to 350.  Greese a 9 x 13" baking dish and set aside.  Sprinkle the bottom of the pan with the bread crumbs.

Heat oil in a large skillet over medium and sauté the onion for 5 minutes.  Add the broccoli, carrot and salt, stir and cover.  Cook for 8 minutes, until the vegetables are barely tender.  Add the bell pepper, corn and garlic, stir and cook for a minute or two more.  Stir in the black pepper, cayenne and scallions.

Spread the hot vegetables in the baking dish and allow them to rest while you make the quick bread.

For the yogurt-herbed cake

1 cup all purpose flour

1 cup whole wheat flour

1 teaspoon baking powder

1/2 teaspoon baking soda

3/4 teaspoons salt

3 teaspoons sugar

1 teaspoon dried basil

1 teaspoon dried thyme

1 teaspoon dried marjoram

2 teaspoons dried dill

2 large eggs

12 oz (about 1 1/2 cups) fat-free greek yogurt

3 tablespoons melted butter

Sift the first 5 ingredients together in a large bowl.  Stir in the sugar and herbs.  Make a well in the center and set aside.

In a medium-sized bowl, beat the eggs, yogurt and melted butter.  Pour the wet ingredients into the well made in the dry ingredients and, using your hands, mix until just combined.  Do not overmix.

Spread the batter over the vegetables.  You might have to piece it together, taking batter from one part and moving it to another so that the vegetables are covered.

Bake for 30-40 minutes, until a toothpick  comes out clean.  If you have the stomach for it, you can attempt to turn the entire thing out onto a large serving tray.  Or you can do it one piece at a time.

Notes:

*  You can use fresh or frozen corn, no need to defrost if you choose frozen.

*  You might also consider using a mixture of broccoli and cauliflower, or all of one or the other.

*  As an addition, you can spread a layer of grated cheese over the vegetables before you top them with the cake mixture.

*  The marjoram can be substituted with oregano.

*  You can use any kind of yogurt that you like, or even buttermilk.

Gypsy Soup

I've hit a wall, it seems.  I don't exactly know what to tell you about this soup.  How to explain how perfectly delicious it is, in a way only a fabulously flavored but essentially simple soup can be.  How even though I used water instead of stock, the broth was bright and nearly singing, and how it left only the faintest hint of a tingle on the lips as a suggestion of the warmth that was coming once it hit my belly.  

This is a classic gypsy soup, classic because it comes from Molly Katzen's seminal Moosewood Cookbook and in my mind, it's just about perfect.  It's chunky, filling and satisfying but most importantly, it feels nourishing.  Although honestly if you're going to hint at tingly lips, I'd prefer to go for it, and would probably increase the amount of cayenne to whatever increment is above a pinch.  A forceful dash, perhaps.  

And if all of this weren't enough, eating gypsy soup can make you a good little feminist.  In her book A Thousand Years Over a Hot Stove, Laura Schenone writes of Katzen's new vegetarian cuisine that is was liberating, that "a dish like Gypsy Soup offered not only a chance to rebel against the corporate powers that built weapons, pesticides, and commercial foods but also a chance to challenge mother's bland dishes and the narrow gender roles prescribed by Betty Crocker...[Gypsy Soup promised] an adventurous culinary and spiritual journey far away from those commercialized kitchens of the 1950" (Schenone, 330).  That might all be a lot to ask of such an essentially humble concoction, but today's focus on fresh, whole foods owes much to Katzen, and rarely do idealist pursuits taste so good.

Gypsy Soup

Olive oil for sauteing

1 large onion, chopped

2 cloves garlic, passed through a press

3 smallish sweet potatoes, peeled and chopped

3 stalks celery, chopped

2 medium fresh tomatoes, chopped 

1 green bell pepper, chopped, membrane and seeds removed

1 1/2 cups cooked chickpeas

4 cups water

Seasonings:

2 teaspoons paprika

1 teaspoon turmeric

1 teaspoon dried basil

1 teaspoon salt

Pinch of cinnamon

Pinch of cayenne

2 bay leaves

1 Tablespoon tamari

In a dutch oven, warm the oil and saute the onions, garlic, celery and sweet potatoes for 5 minutes.  Add the seasonings, except for the tamari, and the water.  Cover and simmer for 15 minutes.  Add the remaining vegetables and the chickpeas and continue to simmer for 10 minutes more, until the vegetables are as tender as you'd like.  Stir in the tamari and adjust the seasonings.

Notes: 

*  You can use a good stock in place of the water, but water worked just fine for me

*  For dried chickpeas, you will need 3/4 cup, which should be soaked at least 3 1/2 hours, but preferably over night.  To cook them, fill a pot with water to 1" above the soaked chickpeas and cook, mostly covered, for 1 - 1 1/2 hours.

*  You can used canned chickpeas, but rinse them and know the texture and flavor won't be quite as nice.

*  The idea of the gypsy soup is to produce a predominantly orange and green concoction, so you can substitute any orange or green vegetable, like carrots, squash, peas or green beans.

*  For a more substantial meal, I've seen the soup topped with a poached egg, as The Slow Cook did a while back.

* If you can't find tamari, you can use regular soy sauce, although...

*  Don't be afraid to invest in a bottle of tamari.  You can use it in cooking in place of soy sauce, or even in place of salt for some extra flavor, as Camilla did here in a salad dressing from Enlightened Cooking.

*     *     *

I'm sending this soup in to No Croutons Required, the monthly vegetarian soup and salad event being hosted this month by Lisa, of Lisa's Kitchen!