Tomatoes and Oysters

Back before Mario Batali became a big star on The Food Network, he owned a restaurant named Po, located on Cornelia Street in Greenwich Village. One of Chef Batali’s signature offerings was white bean bruschetta — cannellini beans kissed with a touch of garlic, balsamic vinegar and herbs and spooned atop hunks of toasted Italian bread. I remember having dinner there shortly after my 25th birthday. It was the first time I had had bruschetta, and it was a taste revelation.

According to Wikipedia, bruschetta is a food the origin of which dates to at least the 15th century from central Italy. It consists of grilled bread rubbed with garlic and topped with extra-virgin olive oil, salt and pepper. Variations may include toppings of spicy red pepper, tomato, vegetables, beans, cured meat, and/or cheese. Bruschetta is usually served as a snack or appetizer.

One of the more familiar and popular recipes involves tomatoes, fresh mozzarella, basil and olive oil. For myself, I prefer tomatoes, salt, pepper, some kind of herb (mint, tarragon, basil or even celery leaves), some acid (a teaspoon or two of white wine vinegar, red wine vinegar or lemon juice), shallots or Vidalia onion and good quality extra-virgin olive oil. No cheese — I feel it throws off the balance of the dish. Ditto for garlic.

One other thing — when you make bruschetta, you should strive to use the best and freshest ingredients possible. You’ll definitely taste the difference in the end.

Heirloom tomato bruschetta

Click here to view a high-resolution version of this picture.

3 small to medium ripe heirloom tomatoes, chopped
1 shallot, finely chopped
pinch of kosher salt
freshly ground black pepper
1 tablespoon mint, cut into a chiffonade (1)
2 tablespoons white wine vinegar
4 tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil
Italian bread or sourdough bread, sliced

In a bowl, combine all ingredients except the bread. Mix well.

Toast the bread until lightly golden. Spoon the tomato mixture atop the toast and serve immediately.

(1) — Chiffonade is a cooking technique in which herbs or leafy green vegetables are cut into long, thin strips. This is generally accomplished by stacking leaves, rolling them tightly, then cutting across the rolled leaves with a sharp knife, producing fine ribbons.

Recipe and demo for the oyster stew after the jump.

Tomato Season 3

Blue Hill could mean either Blue Hill at Stone Barns or Blue Hill Washington Square, two restaurants in New York that epitomize the philosophy of market cooking.

Tonight’s meal was inspired in part by a menu at Blue Hill many years ago where the main ingredient in each course was tomatoes. I am unable to find notes online regarding that menu, probably since the menu in question was in September 2002. On the other hand, here are a couple of pictures from a meal I had in 2007 that might give you an idea of the kind of inventiveness that regularly makes its appearance in Chef Barber’s kitchen.

Left to right: heirloom tomatoes seasoned with fleur de sel and a touch of olive oil, tomato “burger” and tomato water

Summer fruits — grilled apricot, plum, heirloom tomatoes, watercress, tomato foam, tomato sorbet

Now, a dinner at BHSB or even at BHWS regularly costs upwards of about $125, not including wine. I’ve cut back drastically on my spending these days. As far as I’m concerned, the next best thing is doing something similar at home.

Recipes and pictures after the jump.

Greens 1

Japanese turnips

I bought a whole mess of greens at USGM this weekend. Turnip greens, French breakfast radishes, radish greens, mustard greens and spinach. In addition, I have some leftover baby bok choy.

Got any ideas? I have some leftover Rancho Gordo borlotti beans. I figure that’s probably good for a bean stew, along the lines of the broccoli rabe from a couple weeks ago. I’m playing around with the idea of mustard greens tossed with some onion confit and bacon ends. There’s a warm salad of turnip greens, Bintje potatoes and Italian sausage. Maybe a vegetable plate for dinner on Friday night.

I’m curious to see what some of you might think of.

Interview With Alice Waters

Alice Waters is an American chef and co-owner of Chez Panisse, the original “California Cuisine” restaurant in Berkeley, California, as well as the informal Café Fanny in West Berkeley. A champion of locally-grown and fresh ingredients, she has been credited with creating and developing California Cuisine and has written or co-written several books on the subject, including the influential Chez Panisse Cooking (written with then-chef Paul Bertolli). She has also promoted organic and small farm products heavily in her restaurants, in her books, and in her Edible Schoolyard program at the King Middle School in Berkeley. Her ideas for “edible education” have been introduced into the entire Berkeley school system, and with the current crisis in childhood obesity, have attracted the attention of the national media. She is a head advocate of a multi-billion dollar stimulus package that works to give every child in the public school system free breakfast, lunch, and an afternoon snack. She states that taxpayers should endorse this package because we are already paying for it in terms of our health.

Waters advocates eating locally produced foods that are in season, because she believes that the international shipment of mass-produced food is both harmful to the environment and produces an inferior product for the consumer.

Here is a long excerpt from an interview with Salon that was done in 2007:

I’ve been cooking from this book for about a month now.

You have? Tell me, did the recipes work?

Yeah, they were wonderful. But as you say, it’s less about the recipes than your ideas of where to get the food. And I’ve been following those ideas too. I went to the farmers’ market several times.

You know this would be any old book of recipes if it weren’t for the philosophy of food at the beginning. If you’re just going into the store and buying those ingredients, if you’re really a good cook you could probably make something. But what is beautiful is that this changes your life. It brings you into the whole community of people and hopefully brings you back to the dinner table.

I agree. But, some things I’ve noticed. First of all, it’s not easy to do this. I’m a writer so I have a lot of free time. I can take Tuesday afternoon off and go to the farmers’ market. So it was relatively easy for me to do it compared to someone who has to punch a clock. What do those people do?

I think there are lots of ways, actually. I think you have to decide you’re going to work at this a little bit. To begin with, you set aside a day that you might want to eat with your family. It doesn’t have to be a dinner or a complicated thing — it could be an afternoon tea. It could be a Saturday lunch. It could be a breakfast. But hopefully you will decide the following week you can do it twice a week. That’s the beginning.

I think you have to plan ahead. When I go to the market on a Saturday and I’m buying for family and friends I’m thinking about what I’m going to eat on the weekend but also about what I’m going to make for the following week. You know those tomatoes, I’m not getting them dead ripe unless I’m eating them for lunch — I might get them a little firm so that by Wednesday I can have them in a salad. I’ve always got something in the pantry — I talk a lot about what you can cook when you just have a closet full of pasta and grains.

So how often would you go to the farmers’ market in a week?

Twice. I mean, if I could I’d go every day, but I go on Saturday when I can buy a lot of things, and on Tuesday. And then I’ll go get other things in the regular market as a sort of backup.

You recognize, though, that it takes more time to do it this way than going to the store.

I do absolutely recognize it takes more time. But this is all part of fast food values. Let’s do it quickly. Let’s get it over with. Let’s let the machines do it for us, because kitchen work is drudgery and so is garden work. Let somebody else do that.

Get out of that mind-set and tell yourself cooking is a meditation. I like to do it. It’s relaxing for me to come home — it truly is! — and wash the salad. I love to see the salad in the sink. To spin the salad. I like to dry it. I like to pound to make a vinaigrette with my mortar and pestle. I enjoy grinding coffee and putting it in the filter and warming up the milk. It’s part of a ritual that gives my life meaning and beauty.

I feel particularly like this on my book tour, that this is a crazy kind of life. It’s over before you know it. And so you have to find ways of slowing it down. And this is an everyday delightful way to slow it down. Take time. Take a moment. The most important value of this book aside from nourishment is that there’s pleasure in the doing. It’s pleasure in work. It’s something that we don’t understand in this country. Work is over there and pleasure’s over here, and we work our whole lives so that we can go on a cruise ship. It’s just insanity, and some people don’t even make it to the cruise ship.

So we have to figure out about everyday pleasure. It’s trying to bring people back to their senses. Put the smells in the house. Make the chicken stock so it makes people hungry. Burn the rosemary, make the farro, make the bread. These are all aromatic ways to bring people back to the table.

In addition to time, it’s costlier to do it this way. One of the reasons that people eat fast food is because that’s all they can afford.

For some people that is true. But I would say that you have to decide — it’s not going to be cheap but it can be affordable. And that’s where this book comes in. When polenta costs $6 for a hundred portions, I’m pretty certain that I can make something tasty for less money than a fast food dinner for my family.

So you’re saying it’s more but it’s not prohibitive?

That’s right. You just decide, OK, well, maybe I won’t rent that DVD.

* * *

I think this goes directly to what my foodblogging is all about. It really sums up what I want in life — to be healthy and have a positive outlook. Now I’m not naive. I wouldn’t be able to shop at the farmer’s market regularly if I were laid off all of a sudden [and for that I'm grateful].

That said, I think the principle would still be the same. Okay, so the produce wouldn’t have that stunning freshness. I’d have to settle for regular $2 supermarket eggs. That’s okay. If anything, the lesson Alice teaches us is that cooking is a luxury that any of us can afford even in the worst possible situation. It’s something we should take time to savor. We only have one life and it’s up to us to make the most of it while we can. What better way to do it than to start with food?

* * *

You can read the entire interview here. The audio version is here (which I recommend over the print version).
Related discussion on eGullet can be viewed here.

Spring in a Bowl

Warm asparagus salad with bacon and egg

I have to confess: this is my favorite time of the year. It’s seeing the leaves come out, flower buds slowly opening and the return of songbirds from the south. It’s the majesty of spring’s glory as the first green things appear at market. And thus the cycle begins anew.

1 bunch asparagus, trimmed
2 strips bacon, cut in pieces (1)
1/2 red onion, sliced thinly
1 egg
1 t. white wine vinegar
2 T. extra-virgin olive oil
kosher salt
freshly ground black pepper
lemon juice
chopped parsley or chives

Combine asparagus, olive oil and a pinch of salt in a Pyrex or glass baking dish. Toss. Roast at 350 F for 15 to 20 minutes. Set aside and cool slightly.

Bring 1/2 cup water to a gentle simmer in a small or medium saucepan. Add 1 teaspoon white wine vinegar. Gently crack an egg atop the surface of the water and poach for 1 to 2 minutes. Lift egg out with a slotted spoon.

Fry bacon until crisp. Add onion to pan, saute for 3 to 4 minutes or until onion has wilted and slightly caramelized. Remove from heat, add asparagus and a little lemon juice, to taste. Check seasoning. Toss.

To assemble, place the poached egg in a bowl, spoon asparagus-bacon mixture atop, and sprinkle some chopped parsley or chives. Serve immediately.

(1) I used bacon ends from Flying Pigs Farm but this works just as well with regular bacon from the supermarket. Remember to adjust salt accordingly prior to service.

Eat Your Vegetables

12 vegetable ragoût

1 carrot, peeled and sliced
1 parsnip, peeled and sliced
handful of fingerlings, scrubbed
1 medium Binjte potato, peeled, cut into 1/4″ thick slices and barely par-boiled
2 Jerusalem artichokes, peeled and sliced
2 celery stalks, sliced on a bias and blanched
6 ramp stalks, cleaned/trimmed and blanched
3 scallions, trimmed and blanched
1 small to medium red onion, peeled and sliced
1 medium turnip, peeled and sliced
6 shiitake mushrooms, sliced
1/3 cup peas, blanched
extra-virgin olive oil
kosher salt
white wine
unsalted butter
freshly ground black pepper
onion chives

Combine fingerlings, carrot, parsnip, onion, turnip and Jerusalem artichokes in a Pyrex or glass baking dish, along with 2 T. olive oil and a pinch of salt. Toss. Roast at 375 F for 30 to 35 minutes. Set aside and cool slightly.

Melt butter in a sauté pan over medium-high heat. Add mushrooms and sauté for 2 to 3 minutes or until they are browned and softened. Add a couple tablespoons white wine and cook for an additional 1 to 2 minutes until the liquid is absorbed.

Melt some more butter in a sauté pan over medium-high heat. Add the roasted vegetables. Cook for 3 to 5 minutes or until browned and tender. Add a splash of white wine and cook for 2 to 3 minutes, stirring frequently, or until most of the liquid is nearly evaporated.

Combine all the vegetables and stir. Add a couple tablespoons white wine. Cook for 3 to 5 minutes or until heated through and the liquid has reduced. Add 1 or 2 T. unsalted butter and some minced onion chives to the pan and toss until the vegetables are coated and hot. Season to taste with salt and pepper. Serve immediately.

*I added the peas at the very last minute. This accounts for their bright green color. Any longer and you run the risk that their color begins to turn.

The Cruelest Month

Thanks to everyone who commented below. I really appreciate the support.

Pasta with ramps “pesto” and fresh peas

The past few days have been raining cats and dogs. I needed something bright to chase the gray away.

3/4 cup cleaned ramp leaves, packed
kosher salt
extra-virgin olive oil
juice of half a lemon
lemon zest

Pulse ramp leaves in a blender or food processor until finely chopped. Add a pinch of salt. Pour olive oil in a thin and steady stream until the desired consistency is reached. I like my pesto less “paste”-like. Check seasoning. At this point, you can add some lemon juice or chopped lemon zest to brighten the flavor, if you like. Check seasoning. Use immediately or reserve as needed.

If you wanted to make this a traditional pesto, you can use pignoli. Almonds or chopped walnuts are good substitutes. The sauce really doesn’t need much else.

That pasta is just cooked rotini tossed with the ramps “pesto”, fresh peas, minced onion chives and some grated Parmesan.

Pesto — it’s not just for basil anymore.

Recession Specials

When times get tough, the tough get cheap:

Fettucine with roasted mushrooms, pine nuts and herbs

wild mushrooms, sliced
salt
pepper
olive oil
2 T. pine nuts, toasted
handful of parsley or other herb, chopped
pinch of red pepper flakes
lemon juice, to taste
cooked pasta
pecorino or P-R cheese (optional)

Preheat oven to 375 F. Combine mushrooms with salt, pepper and olive oil. Roast for 25 to 30 minutes or until mushrooms have caramelized. When mushrooms are done, add herbs, red pepper flakes and lemon juice. Toss together with pasta and serve.

Swiss chard, kielbasa and bean soup

3 T. olive oil
1 lb. kielbasa or other smoked sausage, sliced
1 onion, diced
2 carrots, diced
2 cloves garlic, roughly chopped
1 lb. Swiss chard or other greens, stems removed and reserved, greens coarsely chopped
3 potatoes, peeled and diced
1 to 1 1/2 cups cooked beans (canned is fine if you don’t want to bother with dried)
5 to 7 cups bean cooking liquid, water or stock
salt, to taste
pepper, to taste

In a large soup pot, heat 1 tablespoon oil over medium heat. Brown the kielbasa, stirring often, for 5 minutes. Remove from the pot. Pour off excess fat. Add remaining oil, along with the onion, carrots and garlic. Saute for 8 minutes, stirring often.

Add chard stems, potatoes, water or stock or bean cooking liquid, salt and pepper. Bring to a boil.

Add beans. Cover the pot and simmer over low heat for one hour.

Add greens and kielbasa. Stir. Simmer for an additional fifteen minutes. Check seasoning and serve immediately.

Congee

The usual recipe — 1 cup rice, 9 cups Chinese chicken stock (basically the stock I used from making Hainanese chicken rice last year*), 3 eggs lightly beaten, some sliced ginger and a dash of white pepper. Garnishes include chopped scallions, chili paste, shredded ginger, sesame oil, mushroom soy and white pepper.

*I had frozen a couple of quarts of chicken stock from that batch and used the last of it tonight.

Appointments

I haven’t spoken to Mom since June.

We were supposed to spend a day together at the Metropolitan Museum of Art. I told her to call me when she got into the city. I had planned to meet her at Penn Station and we’d go up to the museum together.

I overslept. I’m thankful for my meds for many things but a tendency to sleep too much is not one of them. I remember having this exceedingly vivid dream of a puppy licking my face, then woke up with a yelp. I glanced at the clock and it said 10:30. Oops.

Frantically, I called Mom on her cell phone and left a couple of messages. Please pick up, please pick up. It didn’t matter. Furious that I had stood her up, she spent the day in Chinatown and left her cell phone off. We didn’t connect until later in the evening when I tried to explain to her that I didn’t intentionally miss our appointment and in fact, tried to get in touch. She wasn’t having it.

I was like, Can we get together in a couple of weeks? It’ll be your birthday and I promise to make it up to you then. I might as well have been talking to a brick wall. Words went in one ear and out the other.

She called me a couple days ago, saying I bear you no ill will and we haven’t spoken in a while. I wonder if she says these things on purpose because sometimes they aren’t true.

I suppose I’m going to have to return her call sooner or later. I’m kind of dreading it in fact.

Tomato salad

Heirloom tomatoes (or substitute regular ripe tomatoes)
Flat leaf parsley, minced
Extra-virgin olive oil

For the croutons:
salt-free Italian bread, crusts removed and cut into medium-sized cubes
extra-virgin olive oil or melted unsalted butter
sea salt
freshly ground pepper
chopped herbs (I used thyme but feel free to use whatever you like)

For the shallots:
shallots, peeled and minced
Champagne, gewürztraminer or other type of drinkable white wine

1. Macerate shallots in 2 T. Champagne or wine. Set aside.
2. Drizzle 1-2 t. extra-virgin olive oil or melted butter on bread cubes. Toast in a 375 to 400 F oven for 8 to 10 minutes or until golden brown. Alternately you can toast them in a saute pan over medium to medium-high heat. If using the pan method, be sure to stir frequently to prevent burning; halve the cooking time. Season to taste with sea salt, pepper and herbs. Set aside.
3. Dice tomatoes. Be sure to include a good variety. You can use heirloom cherry tomatoes if you have them. Leave some whole for color, taste and texture.

Assembly: Combine tomatoes in a glass or non-reactive metal bowl. Add shallots and croutons. Fold in parsley. Drizzle wine over tomatoes, and perhaps a touch of olive oil. Serve immediately.

Rotini with cauliflower, Sicilian style

fusilli or rotini
cauliflower, broken into florets with the stalks sliced
2 cloves of garlic, minced
extra-virgin olive oil
Gaeta olives, pitted and chopped
capers, drained
oil-packed anchovy fillets
Italian parsley, chopped

Bring a large saucepan of water to a boil. Add the pasta and cauliflower and cook until the pasta is al dente and the cauliflower is tender. Drain, reserving 1/2 cup pasta cooking water. Set aside.

For the sauce: Heat olive oil in a large frying pan. Add the garlic and fry, stirring frequently, for about 2-3 minutes or until translucent. Add the olives, capers, anchovies and parsley, and continue cooking, stirring for 3-4 more minutes until the anchovies break down and dissolve.

Assembly: Add pasta mixture to the pan with a few tablespoons of the pasta cooking water. Cook, stirring, for a couple of minutes until all the flavors blend. Serve immediately.