Adapted from America’s Test Kitchen 

I know, I know, lasagna—not exactly consistent with the theme of last week’s posting in which I gave voice to a post-holiday impulse to lay off the sort of rich, rib-sticking foods I’m usually drawn to. What can I say? I did that for a few days, and then, well, I didn’t want to anymore. And in truth, I’m a big believer in giving your body what it’s asking for, so if it wants spinach give it spinach, and if it wants pizza, give it pizza… at least in moderation. Anyway, that approach has pretty much worked for me, with an understanding that if the pizza begins to outweigh the spinach, it may require a dialing up of the exercise routine. Still, lasagna is the sort of thing I never make and rarely order, despite the fact that it’s a dish I really, really like (I mean seriously, who doesn’t?). It’s simply one of those foods, like chocolate cake and fried chicken, that I managed to erase from my inner favorite foods hard drive, having determined that it posed too much of a challenge even for my relatively speedy metabolism. But several months ago, when my friend Dennis casually mentioned that he’d made lasagna the previous weekend, the lost (or at least hidden) memory of that seductive dish came rushing back, reigniting a craving that proved as powerful as it was insistent. I’m not exaggerating when I say that anytime the issue of what to cook arose, lasagna was at the head of the line, demanding equal consideration. And so, in the end, there was nothing to do but ignore my reservations and welcome the dish back into the kitchen.

Of course, that eventual waving in process also involved finding the right recipe, a process which took longer than expected as I discovered one more reason the dish hadn’t been featured on my table lately: most versions of it can take the better part of a day to prepare. That was more time than I was ready to commit to something I wasn’t convinced I should be making at all. Still, if I could find a recipe that somehow sped up the process to no more than a few hours without giving up the rich sauce and classic mix of ingredients I associated with all of my favorite lasagna-eating experiences (namely ricotta cheese, mozzarella, Parmesan, and sausage—this last an absolute requirement) then I was in. And after scanning my own archives and a variety of cooking magazine websites, that’s exactly what I found in the ever-reliable America’s Test Kitchen cookbook.

As I recall, “simple” was the key word in their description, and while I question whether any lasagna, no matter how speedy its assembly, can ever be called simple (let’s face it, with its multiple layers of sauce, noodles, and cheese, few dishes require more assembly than this one), two key shortcuts promised to get me to the finish line in record time. The first involved fashioning a bolognese that had all of the rich, well-rounded flavors of a long simmered sauce but in just a fraction of the time. And the second with swapping out traditional lasagna noodles with the no-boil variety (also called “oven ready”) that are now standard issue on most supermarket shelves—a step that eliminates the laborious process of boiling the noodles, then plunging them in ice water and carefully laying them out so they don’t clump, all prior to putting together the actual dish.

Of course, many recipes make promises—the question is: do they deliver? In the case of this one I’m here to tell you that it does, in large part because that meat sauce is so damn good. Traditionally the sauce’s richness comes from a slow-cooking process that takes hours to complete, but that here is achieved through a handful of steps completed in little more than 20 minutes. The key is simmering the onion, garlic and meat together for a few minutes, adding a small amount of cream for body, then incorporating both the puréed and the diced tomatoes in the final minutes. It’s a combination that ensures the finished sauce will be velvety smooth while still offering the homey satisfaction of chunks of whole tomatoes—a case of having your cake and eating it too. Just be sure to pour the juice off the diced variety before adding it to the pot or the finished product will be disappointingly wet and loose. It’s a mistake I made, and while it had no discernible effect on the flavor of the dish, a slice of lasagna should look firm and almost block-like and not, well, like a melting mound of tomato-smothered noodles.

That said, I tend to like my sauce slightly tangier than I found this one to be. If you’re similarly inclined, increase the salt from a ½ to ¾ of a teaspoon, and add a ¼ cup chopped fresh basil along with a ¼ tsp dried oregano—minor tweaks that ratchet up the flavor quotient. Of course, where anything tomato-y is concerned I lean towards the heavily seasoned, so let your own preferences guide you here. Either way, the sauce will still have plenty of full-bodied flavor.

And as for the all-important meat component, the recipe suggests using a pound of meatloaf mix (equal parts beef, pork, and veal), though it notes that a ½ pound each of beef and sweet Italian sausage will also do the trick. Given my porky preferences mentioned above, I naturally went for the sausage alternative—a move that delivered just the sort of mildly spicy flavor I was looking for. And if you buy the sausage in bulk form you can avoid the time consuming process of removing the meat from its casings.

Although the cooking time required an additional 10 minutes to achieve the bubbly, spotty brown appearance called for in ATK’s directions, the entire recipe from start to finish is still blessedly fast—clocking in at less than an hour-and-a-half, including 10 minutes for cooling. Which means that other than waistline concerns there’s absolutely no reason not to satisfy your lasagna craving on a regular basis. Of course, add the slick of melted cheese to tender noodles and a rich meat sauce and you have a combination that’s famously hard to say no to, which means it’s great dish to have on hand when you’re feeding a crowd but dangerous if it’s just one or two of you (in other words, leftovers spell danger). As Alfredo said to me last night after we’d each inhaled a second serving, “Definitely make this again… just not too often.”

Ingredients:
—1 tbs olive oil
—1 medium onion, chopped fine (about 1 cup)
—6 medium cloves garlic, pressed through a garlic press or minced (about 2 tbs)
—1 lb. meatloaf mix or 1/3 lb. each ground beef chuck, ground veal, and ground pork. (Note: ½ lb ground beef and a ½ lb sweet Italian sausage removed from the casings can also be substituted.)
—1/2 tsp table salt (TRG note: increase to ¾ tsp if you like things a little saltier)
—1/2 tsp ground black pepper
—1/4 cup heavy cream
—1 28-oz can tomato purée
—1 28-oz can diced tomatoes, drained
—1/4 tsp dried oregano (TRG note: optional)
—15 oz ricotta cheese (whole milk or part skim), (1¾ cups)
—2½ oz grated Parmesan cheese (1¼ cups)
—1/2 cup chopped fresh basil (TRG note: plus an additional ¼ tsp for the sauce, if desired)
—1 large egg, lightly beaten
—1/2 tsp table salt
—1/2 tsp ground black pepper
—12 no-boil lasagna noodles from one 8- or 9-ounce package.
—16 oz whole milk mozzarella, shredded (4 cups)

Directions:
—Adjust oven rack to middle position and heat oven to 375˚.
—Heat oil in large, heavy-bottomed Dutch oven over medium heat until shimmering but not smoking, about 2 minutes; add onion and cook, stirring occasionally, until softened but not browned, about 2 minutes. Add garlic and cook until fragrant, about 2 minutes.
—Increase heat to medium-high and add ground meats, salt, and pepper; cook, breaking meat into small pieces with wooden spoon, until meat loses its raw color but has not browned, about 4 minutes.
—Add cream and simmer, stirring occasionally, until liquid evaporates and only fat remains, about 4 minutes. Add pureed and drained diced tomatoes and bring to simmer, along with 1/4 cup chopped fresh basil and 1/4 tsp dried oregano (if using); reduce heat to low and simmer slowly until flavors are blended, about 3 minutes; set sauce aside. (Sauce can be cooled, covered, and refrigerated for up to 2 days; reheat before assembling lasagna.)
—Mix ricotta, 1 cup Parmesan, basil, egg, salt, and pepper in medium bowl with fork until well-combined and creamy; set aside.
—Smear entire bottom of a 9- by 13-inch baking dish with ¼ cup meat sauce. Place three noodles on top of sauce, then drop 3 tbs ricotta mixture down center of each noodle, leveling the cheese by pressing flat with back of measuring spoon. Sprinkle evenly with 1 cup shredded mozzarella, and spoon 1½ cups meat sauce evenly across the cheese. Repeat layering of noodles, ricotta, mozzarella, and sauce two more times. Place three remaining noodles on top of sauce, spread remaining sauce over noodles, sprinkle with remaining cup mozzarella, then with remaining ¼ cup Parmesan.
—Lightly spray a large sheet of foil with nonstick cooking spray and cover lasagna. Bake 15 minutes, then remove foil. Return lasagna to oven and continue to bake until cheese is spotty brown and sauce is bubbling, about 25 minutes longer. Cool lasagna about 10 minutes; cut into pieces and serve.

Serves 6 to 8

The post 01/17/13 • SPEED DEMONS’ LASAGNA appeared first on THE RECIPE GRINDER.

From A Taste of Old Cuba (HarperCollins)

Last night Alfredo and I hosted a small dinner for our good friend Scott who was celebrating one of those big birthdays that only come around a few times in your life—the kind with a nice round number that the celebrant generally prefers not to linger on (and so I won’t either). It was a great night with good friends, good food, and too much drinking, and I have a doozy of a hangover to show for it, one that’s made everything from getting to work today to stringing together a coherent sentence especially challenging. Still, the evening was well worth all the frustrations of this morning, not least of which because Scott seemed to so thoroughly enjoy himself. And, on a secondary level, it gave me an excuse to whip up a large batch of paella, something I’ve been craving, and which is the ultimate party food in my book.

In truth, you kind of need a party to get up the mojo required to make paella, because there’s a lot of advance work associated with preparing it. The good news is that most of the heavy-lifting is done before your guests arrive, which means you can stand around drinking too much wine without worrying whether dinner will make it to the table. And it makes for an impressive presentation on the plate that doesn’t require lots of different serving dishes—it’s a vivid one-dish meal that everyone tends to like (as long as all your guests eat shellfish). I mean what could be better than chunks of chicken, chorizo, and shrimp, nestled in a mound of rice that’s plump with the moisture of absorbed chicken broth, all of it infused with the flavor of saffron? In fact, I have a Tupperware container holding some of last night’s leftovers sitting here on my desk, and it’s been teasing me since about 10:30 this morning, asking me if it isn’t lunchtime yet.

Which brings me to the subject of this week’s posting, arroz con pollo (rice with chicken)—a Cuban classic that’s similar to paella in some significant ways but that features a fraction of the ingredients and is less labor intensive as a result. Like paella, arroz con pollo calls on saffron for flavoring and a short grain rice such as Valencia or Bomba for the all-important starch. And in both dishes the rice is left to cook in a large quantity of chicken broth, liquid that it tends to suck right up thanks to the magnificent absorption properties associated with this variety of grain. In this way the consistency of the finished dish is almost like risotto—not quite as broken down, but sticky, wet, and full of the flavors of whatever other ingredients have been added to the pot.

In the case of arroz con pollo, the rice is not just cooked alongside the saffron and the chicken broth, but also several pounds of previously browned chicken parts, as well as a quantity of sautéed onions and green peppers . . . and nothing else. In other words, unlike paella, arroz con pollo is only rice and chicken—meaning there’s no seafood, no chorizo, and none of those other tasty add-ins that tend to be featured in the Spanish dish. Think of it as a simplified version of paella, and a meal that’s simple enough for an easy weeknight dinner.

The version of the recipe I bring to you here comes from A Taste of Old Cuba by María Josefa Lluriá de O’Higgins (I love this woman’s name almost as much as I love her classic Cuban recipes!), and the dish takes no more than forty-five minutes or so to prepare, not counting the time needed to marinate the chicken in a mixture of mashed garlic, salt, pepper and something called “sour orange juice.” This last item is produced by a number of companies, including Goya (who markets it under the name “naranja agria”), though in my experience it’s hard to find it at most markets. No worries, though—it can be made easily enough by mixing regular orange juice with an equal amount of lime juice. As for the marinating process itself, though the recipe suggests allowing just an hour for this, Alfredo’s aunt Toya extends this to as much as four hours, something I tried on my last outing and will incorporate into future versions, as well.

Also, while the recipe calls for a mixture of breasts, thighs and drumsticks, I prefer all white meat, cut crosswise to make for a more manageable size. In any case, once marinated it’s time to brown the chicken, a process that should take about three minutes per side. The recipe says to do this in a wide shallow pan, but given the three cups of liquid to follow, here again I’d propose a small change, swapping the wide pan for a large Dutch oven. Either way, when the chicken has taken on a nice golden color it’s removed from the pot and set aside, at which point it’s time to sauté the onions and pepper, which serve as the flavoring backbone for this dish. After three minutes or so these ingredients should take on a translucent quality, which tells you it’s time to introduce most of the other items—the broth, the saffron, the tomato sauce, the marinade the chicken was left to soak in, and the chicken itself. This mixture is left to simmer for five minutes, and then it’s time to add the star ingredient: the rice.

Since the rice (duh) requires liquid to cook, it’s important that all the grains be fully submerged—and to stay that way—during the estimated half hour of cooking time. That means it’s important to keep an eye on the pot and to add more liquid (chicken broth, dry white wine, even beer) as needed. Also, while those thirty minutes should be sufficient to get the job done, on a few occasions I’ve found it took longer. If that’s the case be sure to give the mixture a few good stirs as you go, since the rice at the bottom of the pot risks burning after more than thirty minutes. In any case, once the liquid has been absorbed and the rice is plump and tender, remove the pot from the heat while you quickly warm the petit pois and the sliced pimiento. These are then scattered across the surface of the finished dish. And that’s it!

According to the recipe the finished dish should be enough to serve between six and eight people, though in my experience the number is more like four—something I attribute to just how very good this simple dish can be. So good, in fact, that the last time I prepared it I began to congratulate myself on having taken a key step in mastering the art of Cuban cooking. Alfredo, however, was not quite as effusive. While he agreed that the dish tasted just as it should, he found it lacking in one key area: color—specifically the bright yellow hue associated with so much of the prepared rice in Cuban cooking. And this despite the fact that I’d gone heavy on the saffron! So in search of an answer I reached out once again to Alfredo’s aunt, who revealed that the secret lay in a condiment called Bijol, which is produced in Cuba and is composed of a mixture of corn flour, ground cumin and a few other goodies, including (ahem) food coloring. In the case of my arroz con pollo, she assured me that a ¼ teaspoon or so would be enough to imbue it with the signature shade associated with the country’s signature starch, all without altering the flavor. I’m still not quite sure how I feel about adding food coloring to my cooking, though I suppose when it comes to flying the proper colors for a favorite national dish, exceptions must be made.

Ingredients:
—3 garlic cloves, peeled
—1 tbs salt
—1 tsp pepper
—1/4 cup *sour orange juice (or a 50/50 mixture of sweet orange juice and lime juice)
—4 lbs skinned chicken thighs, legs, and breasts
—1/4 vegetable oil
—2 medium onions, peeled and finely chopped
—1 large green pepper, cored, seeded, and finely chopped
—3 cups chicken broth
—4 strands saffron, toasted in a dry skillet over medium heat for about 30 seconds or until they lose their moisture
—2 tbs tomato sauce
—2 cups Valencia rice
—Beer, dry white wine, or additional chicken broth
—Two 8 oz cans petit pois (tiny peas), drained, or 1 cup tiny frozen peas, thawed
—One 6 oz jar pimientos, drained and cut into strips
*Goya produces a concentrated sour orange juice called Naranja Agria.
Directions:
—Mash the garlic into a paste with the salt and pepper. (A mortar and pestle works best, but you may mince the garlic finely with a knife or put it through a garlic press and mash the seasonings in with a fork.)
—Add the orange juice and pour this marinade over the chicken pieces. Refrigerate for about one hour.
—Heat the oil over medium heat in a paella pan or other wide, shallow pan. (NOTE: As mentioned above, I prefer to use a large Dutch oven.)
—Blot the chicken pieces on paper towels and brown them in the hot oil. Reserve the marinade. Set the browned chicken pieces aside.
—In the same oil, sauté the onions and green pepper until the onions are translucent, about 3 minutes. Add the broth, saffron, tomato sauce, reserved marinade, and the chicken and simmer for about 5 minutes.
—Add the rice and stir just enough to cover it with liquid. If the rice is not fully covered, add more broth, wine, or beer. Simmer until all the liquid has been absorbed and the rice is cooked, about 30 minutes. Add more broth, wine, or beer as needed.
—Remove the pan from the heat while you warm the peas and pimientos separately. Garnish the arroz con pollo with them and serve.
Serves 6 to 8

The post 05/10/12 • CHICKEN, CUBAN-STYLE! appeared first on THE RECIPE GRINDER.