From the Aug./Sept., 2013 Garden & Gun

Every year around this time I begin to recognize with an internal thud that the season of fun is fast coming to an end. I seem to arrive at this realization later than most (many of my friends and family have been wringing their hands over this indisputable fact for weeks already) but eventually the truth creeps in, even for me. And so once again only a few more weekends to be enjoyed before the arrival of Labor Day. Of course, it’s a recognition that brings with it a certain kind of pressure—to do, see, and savor all the things I love most about summer before the window slams shut for another nine months. And being a food-fixated sort of person, by “savor” I mean eat, so lately I’ve been zeroing in on the fresh fruits and vegetables that won’t be easy to find in a few months’ (or even weeks’) time. All of which is a long-winded way of saying in the last few weeks I’ve been eating as many tomatoes as possible, prepared in as many different ways as I can identify.

Of course, a really good tomato requires no preparation—simply slice it, sprinkle it with a little salt and pepper, and you’re good to go. Nevertheless, even the most beautiful specimen of tomato-hood can benefit from some culinary intervention now and again. Just consider this recipe for tomato salad, which is a simple enough preparation to allow the glories of a ripe tomato to come shining through, but that thanks to the addition of basil, capers, and a shallot vinaigrette is given just enough something extra to make it truly revelatory. This is a new recipe discovery for me and already it’s a favorite—one I intend to make again and again (though as with most recipes calling for fresh tomatoes, I wouldn’t bother if the produce isn’t truly something special).

Slightly more involved is this recipe for tomato pie. I love savory pies, and I love that this one is essentially a delicious tomato salad (in addition to a pound of sliced heirloom tomatoes the filling calls for vinegar, olive oil, goat cheese, and basil) baked in a pie shell. What’s more, the recipe allows for a frozen (i.e. store bought) piecrust, so this is one of those impressive dishes you can throw together at a moment’s notice. In fact, if you want to fast track it even further, skip the fresh breadcrumbs called for by the recipe (and which serve as the pie’s topping), swapping them out for Panko, which has the added benefit of providing a little additional crunch.

One of the wonderful surprises of this recipe is the way the tomatoes break down during the baking to infuse the savory/salty flavor combination with a hint of sweetness. In the company of the flaky, buttery pastry dough it’s something truly special indeed—the perfect way to hold on to summer just a little longer.

Ingredients:
—4 shallots, minced
—3 garlic cloves, minced
—4 tbs extra virgin olive oil, divided
—1 tbs Dijon mustard
—9-inch frozen pie shell
—1 lb assorted heirloom tomatoes, sliced ¼-inch thick
—3 oz goat cheese, crumbled
—1/2 oz. fresh basil, chiffonade (see note below for explanation)
—1 tbs Grenache vinegar (TRG note: If you can’t find Grenache vinegar, red wine vinegar is also fine)
—1/2 cup fresh bread crumbs (TRG note: Try Panko if you want a crunchier topping)
—1 oz. Parmesan cheese, grated (TRG note: about a ½ cup)
—Salt and pepper to taste

TRG note: Although “chiffonade” sounds like something requiring a standing mixer, in fact it’s a chopping technique used to produce long, thin strips of herbs or leafy green vegetables. In the case of this recipe, make a small pile of leaves, roll it like a cigarette, and then cut crosswise.

Directions:
—Preheat oven to 400˚.
—In a small pan, sauté shallots and garlic in 1 tbs of olive oil until tender, about 3 minutes. Stir in mustard and set aside.
—Place pastry shell in a 9-inch pie dish (TRG note: following instructions on packaging about whether to thaw first or not). Layer in half of the tomatoes, and season with salt and pepper; spread shallot mixture over top. Add goat cheese and half of the basil, distributing evenly. Layer in remaining tomatoes, and season with salt and pepper. Drizzle 1 tbs each of olive oil and vinegar over the tomatoes; top with remaining basil.
—In a small bowl, combine breadcrumbs, remaining 2 tbs of olive oil, and Parmesan cheese. Sprinkle evenly over filling.
—Bake 30 minutes or until topping an crust are golden brown (TRG note: I needed more like 40 minutes to achieve the desired doneness).

Serves 8

The post 08/21/13 • TOMATO PIE appeared first on THE RECIPE GRINDER.

From Fine Cooking, issue 57

Well folks, it’s been nearly two weeks since my Achilles’ surgery and I’m happy to report that I’m pain-free and back in “the boot.” This is an infinitely more appealing option than the splint I left the hospital in as it allows for the possibility of airing your foot out once in a while, and of wearing something other than gym shorts and sweatpants. Regrettably, however, I’m still required to keep all weight off my right foot, which, of course, means crutches. These have taken some time to get used to, and though I’m still feeling pretty limited in my movements, I’ve actually gotten pretty adept at navigating the world on them (even stairs!). Of course, mastering the crutch walk also means learning to slow yourself down, recognizing that things which used to take maybe two minutes (brushing your teeth, putting a shirt on a hanger, loading a plate in the dishwasher) are now potentially hazardous activities and will therefore take roughly four times as long—if you’re lucky. Still, life has resumed a degree of normalcy, even if the most complex cooking tasks I’ve taken on have been limited to protein shakes and green salads. I’m hoping that in the coming weeks I’ll become sufficiently adept on the crutches (and comfortable standing on one foot for longer periods of time) to tackle more demanding dishes—and to photograph the process, as I must do for this site. Until then, however, I still have a few shoots in my inventory to work with—done in the weeks immediately preceding my tennis mishap—like this one for roasted salmon with crème fraîche and tarragon.

The recipe is actually a long-time favorite, pulled a decade or so ago from the pages of Fine Cooking. In fact, I’m surprised it’s taken me this long to bring it to you. The only explanation I have for this is that the dish is one I tend to be drawn to in spring and early summer, and as such represents a fairly small window within which to act. Of course, there’s nothing to keep you from making it at any time of the year—none of the ingredients are seasonal or challenging to find—it’s just that there’s something about the soft pink of the salmon and the bright flavor of its accompanying crème fraîche sauce (given a little zip thanks to the addition of vermouth, sautéed shallot, lemon juice, and tarragon) that makes it seem particularly well suited to these gentle, celebratory days of early summer. In both flavor and temperament it’s a dish that brings to mind one of those mainstays of the season—salmon with béarnaise sauce (a sauce that features many of the same ingredients).

It’s also considerably easier than this classic, with none of the potentially hazardous challenges of making a butter sauce. That’s due in large part to the fact that this version essentially prepares itself in the oven, while cooking alongside the salmon. To start you simply whip the crème fraîche with the lemon juice and tarragon, then sauté the minced shallot in a portion of the butter and the ½ cup of vermouth. Once the butter/shallot combination has cooked down to something thick and shiny (a few minutes will do it) remove the pan from the heat and gently lay in your salmon filets, which have previously been salted and peppered. Pour the crème fraîche mixture over the salmon, cover with a buttered round of parchment paper (buttered side down, to ensure the fish stays nice and moist during its stay in the oven), then slide into a 350˚ oven for 20 minutes or so (or slightly less, depending on how fast your oven is—this is not a dish you want to overcook).

Once the fish has lost its translucent quality, remove the pan from the oven and gently place the filets on a plate (one of those extra large fish spatulas comes in super handy here), keeping them warm under tented foil. All that remains is to thicken up the sauce slightly over medium heat (again, a few minutes will do it), whisk in the remaining 2 tablespoons of butter, and you’re done. Garnished with a little fresh dill or chives, and served alongside some sugar snap peas, and you have the perfect warm weather meal. A dish worthy of a special occasion, for sure, but also one with the ability to simply make a warm summer evening that much more special.

Happy summer!

Ingredients:
—3 tbs fresh lemon juice
—2 tsp finely chopped fresh tarragon
—8 oz ( scant cup) crème fraîche
—1/4 cup unsalted butter; more for the parchment
—2 tbs minced shallot
—1/2 cup dry vermouth
—4 skinless salmon fillets (6 to 7 oz), preferably center cut
—Kosher salt and freshly ground black pepper
—Minced fresh dill or chives for garnish

Special equipment:
—Parchment pape

Directions:
—Heat the oven to 350˚.
—Cut a piece of parchment paper to fit inside a large ovenproof skillet, sauté pan, or flameproof baking dish. Lightly butter one side of the parchment.
—Combine the lemon juice, tarragon, and crème fraîche in a small bowl and set aside.
—Melt 2 tbs of the butter in the pan or baking dish over medium-high heat. Add the shallot and vermouth and reduce to a glaze; remove from the heat. Season the fillets with salt and pepper and arrange in a single layer in the pan. Pour the crème fraîche mixture over the salmon, cover with the parchment butter side down, and bake until the salmon is just opaque throughout, 18 to 20 minutes. Don’t overcook!
—Transfer the salmon to a plate and keep warm. Put the pan over medium heat and reduce the sauce until it’s thick enough to lightly coat a spoon. Remove from the heat, whisk in the remaining 2 tbs butter, and adjust salt and pepper as needed.
—Put each salmon fillet on a warm dinner plate and spoon the sauce over each. Garnish with dill or chives.

Serves 4

The post 06/26/13 • SALMON WITH CREME FRAICHE appeared first on THE RECIPE GRINDER.

From the Sept., 2007 Fine Cooking (click here to view the recipe)

In the last few weeks I’ve begun to notice a subtle shift in peoples’ attitude towards the summer. Gone is the air of anticipation that was everywhere in May and June. So, too, is the vibe of communal celebration that marked the month of July, when people across the city seemed to be gathering at outdoor cafes until the wee hours reveling in the long days and warm nights, or racing out of the office early to catch a train for a three- or four-day weekend somewhere. No, that sense of collective excitement has clearly burned away, leaving in its place something a little more, well, resigned—resigned that the season of fun and freedom is quickly winding down, to be replaced by one of renewed commitments, and responsibilities, and scheduling. In fact, just yesterday someone asked me, “How was your summer?” Was my summer?! I quickly reminded him (and myself) that it wasn’t over just yet, that there are still some warm nights and long weekends to be enjoyed. All the same, I can’t deny that I, too, hear that end-of-summer drumbeat.

Which in its way makes this week’s posting for linguine and clam sauce all the more timely. After all, there are few things that offer a greater concentration of summer-y flavors than this simple pasta dish. Of course, unlike anything made with sweet corn or heirloom tomatoes, it’s a meal that can be enjoyed more or less year-round, but for me there’s something about the briney, garlicky combo here that makes this especially right when the weather gets warm. Come July, it’s a dish I start to crave.

That said I should probably acknowledge that there are those who still hold to the rule that shellfish should only be eaten during those months with an “R” in their name—which is to say, never from May through August, the very period we’re focused on. Obviously it’s a dictum I don’t follow (nor, I might add, do any of the other folks lining up for fried oysters or clam-bakes this time of year), largely because the toxicity concerns associated with this period are pretty much absent these days if you’re purchasing from a reputable fishmonger. (If you’re harvesting yourself, however, beware of toxic blooms in your area.)

So assuming I haven’t scared you away with all that, let me bring to your attention what in my estimation is a quite wonderful, not to mention easy, version of this classic dish. It’s one I pulled out of a back issue of Fine Cooking, and no doubt it’s the recipe’s traditional, by-the-book quality that drew me to it in the first place, as it reminded me of the dish my dad would invariably order when I was a kid and we’d have one of our occasional family dinners at his favorite red sauce establishment in South Philadelphia. I wasn’t so interested in clam sauce in those days (if memory serves, lasagna and garlic bread were my two fixations back then), but the smell of the garlic and white wine-infused broth seems nonetheless to have made a lasting impression on my brain, since any close approximation of that restaurant’s preparation tends to take me right back to those long ago family meals. This recipe does just that, while also improving on my earlier experience of the dish in one, key way: the clams are removed from their shells prior to being tossed with the pasta. It’s a change that, for some, may detract from the dish’s overall plate appeal, but that makes for an infinitely, and undeniably, more pleasant eating experience, as well.

To start, heat half of the olive oil along with the red pepper flakes in a three-quart saucepan for 20 seconds or so—just long enough for the flavor of the flakes to infuse the oil. Next add the wine, two tablespoons of the chopped parsley, and half of the minced garlic, and cook for another 20 seconds, a period during which your kitchen will start to smell about as mouth-wateringly delicious as you can imagine, since there are few fragrances more intoxicating than those of the above ingredients as they’re exposed heat. This is just the beginning, however, as the clams—the dish’s star ingredient, after all—are next up. It’s an addition that infuses the sauce with its all-important briny quality, and one that proves the perfect counterpoint to the various other dominant flavors at play here—namely the wine, the garlic, and the parsley. So after thoroughly scrubbing the mollusks in cold water (skip this step and you risk a mouthful of sand and other grit) it’s time to introduce them to the wine mixture.

Since the point here is to steam the clams, once they’ve been added to the pot you’ll want to keep them covered, checking every few minutes for any that have opened, and removing these to a separate dish (it can take as long as six minutes for all of the clams to open; if any don’t by that point, throw them away—they’re no good.) Once all the clams are steamed, set the broth aside and remove the mollusks from their shells, cutting the meat in half or even fourths if they’re very large. The sliced clams can then be returned to the broth (along with any juices that may have accumulated on your cutting board—this is good stuff!), and the shells discarded.

Two more simple steps to go: the first is to add your pasta (I prefer linguine but angel hair will also work) to a large pot of salted water, then letting it cook to the point where it’s tender but still offers a little give when you bite into it. For the linguine this can take anywhere between six and nine minutes, though it’s much shorter for angel hair. Either way, be sure not to overcook, as the noodles will be exposed to some additional cooking in the final moments of preparation, and you’ll want the final product to retain some of its firmness (otherwise known as “al dente,” a quality whose importance can’t be overstressed). Once done, be sure to hold on to a ¼ cup of the pasta broth before draining—you may not need this (I didn’t) but if the final mixture of pasta and clam sauce seems too dry for your taste, you can always use a little of this to loosen things up.

The other step, and this can be started while the pasta is underway, involves first heating the remaining olive oil in a large (ten- or twelve-inch) skillet, then sautéing the rest of the garlic and chopped parsley for a minute or so, or until the garlic is just soft. Set this mixture aside until the pasta is ready, at which point the noodles, along with the clam mixture, can be added to the garlic/parsley combo. Toss all this over low heat for a minute or so (that final cooking stage I mentioned earlier), add a little salt and pepper as needed, throw in a bit of that reserved pasta water if you think it’s called for, and you’re good to go. It’s a concentrated shot of summer during these waning warm months, not to mention an effective reminder of their laid back attitude when the cold weather sets in.

Ingredients:
—24 littleneck clams
—6 tbs extra-virgin olive oil
—1/2 tsp crushed red pepper flakes
—1/3 cup dry white wine
—5 tbs finely chopped fresh flat-leaf parsley, plus a few whole leaves for garnish
—3 large cloves garlic, minced
—Kosher salt
—8 oz linguini or spaghettini
—Freshly ground black pepper

Directions:
—Scrub the clams under cold water and set aside. In a heavy 3-qt saucepan, heat 3 tbs of the oil over medium heat. Add the pepper flakes and cook briefly to infuse the oil, about 20 seconds. Immediately add the wine, 2 tbs of the chopped parsley, and half of the minced garlic. Cook for 20 seconds and add the clams.
—Cover and cook over medium-high heat, checking every 2 minutes and removing each clam as it opens. It will take 5 to 6 minutes total for all the clams to open. Transfer the clams to a cutting board and reserve the broth. Remove the clams from the shells and cut them in half, or quarters if they’re large. Return the clams to the broth. Discard the shells.
—Bring a large pot of well-salted water to a boil over high heat. Add the pasta and cook until it’s almost al dente, 6 to 9 minutes. Don’t overcook.
—While the pasta is cooking, heat the remaining 3 tbs olive oil in a 10- or 12-inch skillet over medium heat. Add the remaining 3 tbs chopped parsley and the rest of the garlic and cook until the garlic is just soft, about 1 minute. Set the skillet aside.
—When the pasta is done, reserve about ¼ cup of the pasta cooking water and then drain the pasta. Add the pasta, the clams, and the broth the clams were cooked in to the skillet. Return to low heat, toss the pasta in the sauce, and simmer for another minute to finish cooking it, adding a little of the pasta water if you prefer a wetter dish.
—Taste for salt and add a large grind of black pepper. Serve immediately, garnished with the parsley leaves.

Serves 2 to 3

The post 08/23/12 • THE HAPPY CLAM SAUCE appeared first on THE RECIPE GRINDER.

From the June, 2012 Bon Appetit (click here to view the recipe)

I suppose any number of factors could compel a person to march into the kitchen and start cooking, but for most of us it probably comes down to the very basic understanding that food made by our own hands simply tastes better than the alternative. It was that belief, anyway, that was rattling around in my head as I set about assembling this week’s recipe for tabouleh—an item that’s generally available in most American grocery stores, and that’s often pretty good in its pre-packaged, ready-made condition. So why make it yourself? Well, for starters that supermarket variety is generally only sold in those little plastic tubs, which means that if you’re planning on feeding more than one person, you’re looking at ringing up quite a little tower of containers when you get to the checkout line. But more importantly, what tastes satisfactory when you’re eating alone at your desk or grabbing a ten-second snack while mindlessly studying the interior of your refrigerator is naturally held to a higher standard when others are involved. This tabouleh is for those occasions—it’s the one you serve when company comes or when you just want to sit down at the table and have a proper meal.

The recipe comes from the June issue of Bon Appetit and differs from most other versions of the dish that I’ve seen in that it calls for quinoa instead of bulgur. Quinoa, of course, is a grain (alright, a seed if you’re going to get all technical) that’s popping up on restaurant menus a lot these days, and in everything from breads to risottos. In my experience, though, its slightly grassy flavor lends itself best to salads, making it ideal for an updated version of this Middle Eastern classic. Which means that here it’s the combined flavors of lemon juice, parsley, olive oil, and mint—the principal flavoring components of tabouleh—that round out the earthy quality of the quinoa. It’s a bright zesty combination that’s unlikely to be found in any version of the salad that hasn’t gone directly from kitchen to table, in large part because they’re flavors that tend not to last all that long. That’s particularly true where quinoa is concerned, as its slightly spongy couscous-like quality (bulgur tends to have a nuttier flavor and drier texture) has a way of zapping the life out of the combined ingredients over a prolonged period. In other words, this is not a great candidate for a make-ahead meal or even for leftovers.

That fleeting quality is one of the drawbacks of tabouleh. The good news, however, is that assembly is fairly simple and involves only a handful of ingredients. Here, the process begins by simmering a cup of quinoa in a small amount of water for ten minutes, letting the “grain” sit undisturbed for five minutes before fluffing it with a fork (much as you would a quantity of rice), then allowing it to cool completely in a large baking sheet—a process that takes little more than fifteen minutes or so. While the quinoa cools you can set about preparing the dressing (a clove of garlic, a few tablespoons of fresh lemon juice, and a 1/2 cup of olive oil, all of it whisked together), and chopping the various ingredients that will be folded into the quinoa—the parsley, the mint, the cucumber, and the cherry tomatoes. True, those herbs are a key component here so the plucking and mincing of the leaves can take more than a few minutes, but that’s essentially the extent of the heavy lifting. So even with those knife skills called into play, this is a salad that can be thrown together in a half hour or less.

Still, if circumstances call for getting some of the work done in advance, you can always prepare the quinoa and the dressing up to twenty-four hours ahead of time, mixing the “grain” with a ¼ cup of the lemon juice/olive oil mixture, then covering and refrigerating the moistened quinoa and the remaining dressing separately. Just be sure to hold off chopping the herbs and the scallions as long as possible, as you don’t want these key flavoring components to lose any of their all-important punch. Either way, the reward is something bright, light, and zesty, a perfect side dish or vegetarian entrée for a sultry summer night. In other words, seductive food for seductive weather—though if actual seduction is on the menu, be sure to keep the dental floss handy (such are the hazards of herb-heavy dishes such as this one).

Ingredients:
—1 cup quinoa, rinsed well
—1/2 tsp kosher salt, plus more to taste
—2 tbs fresh lemon juice
—1 garlic clove, minced
—1/2 cup extra-virgin olive oil
—Freshly ground black pepper
—1 large *English hothouse cucumber or 2 Persian cucumbers, cut into ¼” pieces
—1 pint cherry tomatoes, halved
—2/3 cup chopped flat leaf parsley
—1/2 cup chopped fresh mint
—2 scallions, thinly sliced

*English cucumbers are generally sold wrapped in cellophane; Persian cucumbers are slightly smaller, between 5 and 8-inches long.

Directions:
—Bring quinoa, ½ tsp salt, and 1¼ cups water to a boil in a medium saucepan over high heat. Reduce heat to medium-low, cover, and simmer until quinoa is tender, about 10 minutes. Remove from heat and let stand, covered, for 5 minutes. Fluff with fork.
—Meanwhile, whisk lemon juice and garlic in a small bowl. Gradually whisk in olive oil. Season dressing to taste with salt and pepper.
—Spread out quinoa on a large rimmed baking sheet; let cool. Transfer to a large bowl; mix in ¼ cup dressing. NOTE: Recipe can be made 1 day ahead to this point. Cover remaining dressing and quinoa separately; chill.
—Add cucumber, tomatoes, herbs, and scallions to bowl with quinoa; toss to coat. Season to taste with salt and pepper. Drizzle remaining dressing over.

serves 6

Note: I won’t be posting next week as I’m going to be on vacation. I’ll be back with a new recipe on Thursday, the 12th. Have a great July 4th everyone!

The post 06/28/12 • TABOULEH 2.0 appeared first on THE RECIPE GRINDER.