Well, I posted Enrico's recipe, so I'll post Antje's as well. It is very, very simple, and excruciatingly delicious. Here goes. . .
Take a thin cut of beef (1-2 lbs.) and pound it even thinner (to about 1/8" - 1/4"). Spread it thoroughly with good mustard and roll it up into a beef "jelly roll." Put the rolled up meat into a large pan on medium heat with a little bit of water in the bottom. Cook, covered, for hours and hours, adding just a bit of water as the pan dries out, and turning the meat, until there is a beautiful, thick brown gravy at the bottom of the pan and the meat is tender.
I would serve this with boiled potatoes and vinegar, though I think on the day in question, we ate strozzapreti!
Saturday, January 24, 2009
Strangolapreti
Way back in 2001, right after we moved to Berkeley, we met two international students, Enrico and Antje, with whom we enjoyed a few round-the-world dinners before they left after only a semester. Enrico's recipe was for strangolapreti (or strozzapreti, priest-chokers), lovely bready dumplings served in sage butter. We served them for the first time in years last night, and they were a great success.
Put on a large pot of water with salt to boil; put on a small pan of butter (about a stick) to melt. Defrost or blanch 300g. spinach; squeeze out all the water and chop finely, if desired. Crumb 2 panini worth (about 3 cups) of firm, slightly old white bread and wet it slightly with milk. Add two eggs, 2 tbsp. flour and a tsp. of salt to the bread crumbs and mix well. Add the spinach, mix well, and form the mixture firmly into 2" balls (about the size of a walnut). Add a dozen sage leaves or so to the melted butter, and fry them gently. Gently boil the strozzapreti, a few at a time, in the salted water until the dumplings rise to the surface. Remove them with a slotted spoon into a bowl coated with butter. When all the dumplings are done, pour the sage butter over top. Eat topped with grated parmesan.
Put on a large pot of water with salt to boil; put on a small pan of butter (about a stick) to melt. Defrost or blanch 300g. spinach; squeeze out all the water and chop finely, if desired. Crumb 2 panini worth (about 3 cups) of firm, slightly old white bread and wet it slightly with milk. Add two eggs, 2 tbsp. flour and a tsp. of salt to the bread crumbs and mix well. Add the spinach, mix well, and form the mixture firmly into 2" balls (about the size of a walnut). Add a dozen sage leaves or so to the melted butter, and fry them gently. Gently boil the strozzapreti, a few at a time, in the salted water until the dumplings rise to the surface. Remove them with a slotted spoon into a bowl coated with butter. When all the dumplings are done, pour the sage butter over top. Eat topped with grated parmesan.
Tuesday, January 13, 2009
Ful Medames
Way back in the fall of 2007, when I was speaking at my first "big" conference, P and I had dinner at a North-African restaurant just up the street from our hotel in Minneapolis.
Our (enormous) appetizer was a place of what they called "Fool Madame," and what I have more recently discovered is usually referred to as "ful medames." A few months ago, when we had our Moroccan chicken, I served this as an appetizer, and the guests scarfed it.
Since I've had requests for it since, here is my version, adapted from what we had in Minneapolis plus several on-line recipes.
Ful Medames
Soak 1.5 cups of dried beans (I use a mix of cranberry/borlotti and rosa) in water for a few hours or overnight. Pick over, drain and thoroughly rinse the beans until the water runs clear. Boil, just covered, until firm and mashable but not mushy. While the beans are cooking, mash a few cloves of garlic in a mortar and pestle with salt. Mix the garlic and salt with the juice of one or two lemons, 2 tbsp. olive oil and 1 tsp. cumin or zataar.
Once the beans are cooked, gently crush 2/3 of them to a coarse paste. Stir in the remaining beans and the garlic mixture. Add more oil, salt and lemon juice for taste and texture; garnish with (I actually stir these next items in) finely chopped fresh tomatoes, white onions, scallions, mint and cilantro (these last three are optional, but lovely when possible).
This makes for an excellent, nutritious and hearty dip, which we serve with pita. Yum!
Our (enormous) appetizer was a place of what they called "Fool Madame," and what I have more recently discovered is usually referred to as "ful medames." A few months ago, when we had our Moroccan chicken, I served this as an appetizer, and the guests scarfed it.
Since I've had requests for it since, here is my version, adapted from what we had in Minneapolis plus several on-line recipes.
Ful Medames
Soak 1.5 cups of dried beans (I use a mix of cranberry/borlotti and rosa) in water for a few hours or overnight. Pick over, drain and thoroughly rinse the beans until the water runs clear. Boil, just covered, until firm and mashable but not mushy. While the beans are cooking, mash a few cloves of garlic in a mortar and pestle with salt. Mix the garlic and salt with the juice of one or two lemons, 2 tbsp. olive oil and 1 tsp. cumin or zataar.
Once the beans are cooked, gently crush 2/3 of them to a coarse paste. Stir in the remaining beans and the garlic mixture. Add more oil, salt and lemon juice for taste and texture; garnish with (I actually stir these next items in) finely chopped fresh tomatoes, white onions, scallions, mint and cilantro (these last three are optional, but lovely when possible).
This makes for an excellent, nutritious and hearty dip, which we serve with pita. Yum!
Wednesday, December 3, 2008
Moroccan Chicken Stew
We served this to first-time guests a few weeks ago, and I got a desperate (OK, maybe just hopeful) late-night request for the recipe yesterday. So here it is, also adapted from Slow Cooking by Joanne Glynn, which I am still working my way through, in methodical fashion. The book is beautiful, though it has some recipe oddities (i.e. dishes that simply don't work), but it is a gorgeous addition to my cookbook shelves, and when she gets it right (as with the below), she really nails it!
Moroccan Chicken Stew
Add 2 large pinches saffron to a few tbsp. chicken stock, and set aside to soak.
Joint a 3 1/4. lb. chicken into 8 pieces (this was only the second time I'd done this, and it was much easier this time than last, though I bet an expert would have been horrified by my "butchery" (ha ha) of the meat), season and brown in olive oil, skin-side down first and turning only once. Set aside.
Heat 1 tsp each whole coriander and cumin in a clean pan until fragrant; grind to a powder and set aside.
Add 2 chopped onions to the chicken pan (senza chicken, which is still set aside, remember?) and cook until translucent; add 4 finely chopped cloves of garlic, 1/2 tsp ground ginger, 1 tbsp dark brown sugar, and the toasted coriander-cumin blend. Cook for a few minutes, then add the saffron stock. Glynn suggests adding 3/4 tsp harissa too at this point, which is something we failed to find at Wegman's, despite asking the "exotic foods" store expert, whom I'm betting is a fantastic contact (she knew everything in the store, when the last batch came in, what just got discontinued, and what will be arriving on Monday afternoon this week). So, instead of harissa, we used a couple shakes of sumac (only we would have sumac, but not harissa) for some lemony, acidic, meat-tenderizing goodness. Add 3 1/2 cups chicken stock, a full glass of dry white wine (drink one too, while you're at it - I did), the browned chicken pieces and a stick of cinnamon.
Bring to a boil, then reduce the heat and simmer, covered, for 20 minutes (I think we actually simmered our chicken, which was falling off the bone by the time we ate it, for about 2 hours on the lowest possible heat. Don't try this if you want firm-textured, on-the-bone chicken.).
Half an hour before serving, add just under a pound of cubed butternut squash, bring the stew back to the boil, reduce the heat to low and cover. Simmer for 30 minutes, turning the chicken halfway.
When the pumpkin is tender, transfer the chicken pieces and veggies with a slotted spoon to a serving dish and keep warm (I used the oven). Reduce the remaining liquid by two thirds by boiling over high heat.
Stir in a handful (or two) green olives and some lemon zest; pour over the chicken to serve. Sprinkle with fresh mint and cilantro.
We served this dish in heavy raku bowls over currant and pistachio pilaf, and it was GOOD!
Addendum:
If I remember correctly, we finished off the meal with our current favourite dessert: Fage Greek yogurt topped with homemade fruit compote (the autumn fruit compote recipe on Epicurious from the '90s is quite good) or fig jam (when I'm lazy) and local summer flower honey. Divine.
Moroccan Chicken Stew
Add 2 large pinches saffron to a few tbsp. chicken stock, and set aside to soak.
Joint a 3 1/4. lb. chicken into 8 pieces (this was only the second time I'd done this, and it was much easier this time than last, though I bet an expert would have been horrified by my "butchery" (ha ha) of the meat), season and brown in olive oil, skin-side down first and turning only once. Set aside.
Heat 1 tsp each whole coriander and cumin in a clean pan until fragrant; grind to a powder and set aside.
Add 2 chopped onions to the chicken pan (senza chicken, which is still set aside, remember?) and cook until translucent; add 4 finely chopped cloves of garlic, 1/2 tsp ground ginger, 1 tbsp dark brown sugar, and the toasted coriander-cumin blend. Cook for a few minutes, then add the saffron stock. Glynn suggests adding 3/4 tsp harissa too at this point, which is something we failed to find at Wegman's, despite asking the "exotic foods" store expert, whom I'm betting is a fantastic contact (she knew everything in the store, when the last batch came in, what just got discontinued, and what will be arriving on Monday afternoon this week). So, instead of harissa, we used a couple shakes of sumac (only we would have sumac, but not harissa) for some lemony, acidic, meat-tenderizing goodness. Add 3 1/2 cups chicken stock, a full glass of dry white wine (drink one too, while you're at it - I did), the browned chicken pieces and a stick of cinnamon.
Bring to a boil, then reduce the heat and simmer, covered, for 20 minutes (I think we actually simmered our chicken, which was falling off the bone by the time we ate it, for about 2 hours on the lowest possible heat. Don't try this if you want firm-textured, on-the-bone chicken.).
Half an hour before serving, add just under a pound of cubed butternut squash, bring the stew back to the boil, reduce the heat to low and cover. Simmer for 30 minutes, turning the chicken halfway.
When the pumpkin is tender, transfer the chicken pieces and veggies with a slotted spoon to a serving dish and keep warm (I used the oven). Reduce the remaining liquid by two thirds by boiling over high heat.
Stir in a handful (or two) green olives and some lemon zest; pour over the chicken to serve. Sprinkle with fresh mint and cilantro.
We served this dish in heavy raku bowls over currant and pistachio pilaf, and it was GOOD!
Addendum:
If I remember correctly, we finished off the meal with our current favourite dessert: Fage Greek yogurt topped with homemade fruit compote (the autumn fruit compote recipe on Epicurious from the '90s is quite good) or fig jam (when I'm lazy) and local summer flower honey. Divine.
Sue's Irish Soda Bread and Lentil Soup Supper
This is one of our new favourite dinners - simple and hearty. A veggie friend who came over lately said she thought the soup in particular was fantastic, but we are partial to the bread too - it is so quick and easy - and we haven't even been using real buttermilk until tonight!
So, here are the recipes:
Irish Soda Bread
In a large bowl mix together 1 cup all purpose flour, 1 tsp baking soda, 4 tsp baking powder, 1 tsp salt, 1 cup wheat germ, and 2.5 cups of whole wheat flour.
Melt 4 heaping T butter with 2 heaping T of honey, and add to 3 cups buttermilk.
Add buttermilk mixture to dry ingredients and blend thoroughly and quickly until the flour is just barely incorporated - don't overmix! Pile dough into 2 rounds on a cookie sheet. They will be slightly stiffer than bran muffin mixture. Don't attempt to shape them.
Bake at 350 for 40- 45 min.
Lentil Soup
Fill a dutch oven sized pot about 3/4 full of water, rinse and then add a mix of red lentils and yellow split peas (about 2 1/4 cups total), some chopped onion and leek, 1 bay leaf, 2 tsp. salt, and 1 tsp. savory. If desired, add worcestershire or tabasco to taste. Bring to a boil, reduce heat and simmer covered for 1.5 hours. Add 1 cup diced celery and 1 cup diced carrot, and simmer covered for 30 minutes--until vegetables are tender. Mash roughly using a potato masher, and season with pepper.
So, here are the recipes:
Irish Soda Bread
In a large bowl mix together 1 cup all purpose flour, 1 tsp baking soda, 4 tsp baking powder, 1 tsp salt, 1 cup wheat germ, and 2.5 cups of whole wheat flour.
Melt 4 heaping T butter with 2 heaping T of honey, and add to 3 cups buttermilk.
Add buttermilk mixture to dry ingredients and blend thoroughly and quickly until the flour is just barely incorporated - don't overmix! Pile dough into 2 rounds on a cookie sheet. They will be slightly stiffer than bran muffin mixture. Don't attempt to shape them.
Bake at 350 for 40- 45 min.
Lentil Soup
Fill a dutch oven sized pot about 3/4 full of water, rinse and then add a mix of red lentils and yellow split peas (about 2 1/4 cups total), some chopped onion and leek, 1 bay leaf, 2 tsp. salt, and 1 tsp. savory. If desired, add worcestershire or tabasco to taste. Bring to a boil, reduce heat and simmer covered for 1.5 hours. Add 1 cup diced celery and 1 cup diced carrot, and simmer covered for 30 minutes--until vegetables are tender. Mash roughly using a potato masher, and season with pepper.
Wednesday, November 12, 2008
Poulet Vallée d'Auge
Guests for dinner last week enjoyed (at least I hope they enjoyed it!) a fall, apple-based dinner.
The first course was rustic pâté from The Piggery (which we took to Boston for C. last weekend - she rated it top-notch), bier meck from Nancy at our local cheesery, huge crisp mutsus and a loaf of perfect country bread from Fat Boy Bakery.
For mains, we ate dinosaur kale in butter and salt, mashed potatoes and celery root cooked in milk and, the pièce de résistance, Poulet Vallée d'Auge with liberty apples from Slow Cooking, my birthday present cookbook from several years ago (which P. gave me to end the "no-cookbook" rule of 2005). The recipe follows below: it is easy and elegant.
Dessert was one of our current favourites: apple crisp with tart golden apples (golden crisps?) from the Farmers' Market and whipped cream.
Poulet Vallée d'Auge
(adapted from Slow Cooking by Joanne Glynn)
INGREDIENTS
3.5 lb. chicken, jointed into 8 pieces
2 dessert apples
60g (2 1/4 oz) butter
½ onion, finely chopped
1/2 celery stalk, finely chopped
10 g (1/4 oz.) flour
80ml (1/3 c.) brandy
375ml (13 fl oz) chicken stock
1/3 c. heavy cream
METHOD
The first course was rustic pâté from The Piggery (which we took to Boston for C. last weekend - she rated it top-notch), bier meck from Nancy at our local cheesery, huge crisp mutsus and a loaf of perfect country bread from Fat Boy Bakery.
For mains, we ate dinosaur kale in butter and salt, mashed potatoes and celery root cooked in milk and, the pièce de résistance, Poulet Vallée d'Auge with liberty apples from Slow Cooking, my birthday present cookbook from several years ago (which P. gave me to end the "no-cookbook" rule of 2005). The recipe follows below: it is easy and elegant.
Dessert was one of our current favourites: apple crisp with tart golden apples (golden crisps?) from the Farmers' Market and whipped cream.
Poulet Vallée d'Auge
(adapted from Slow Cooking by Joanne Glynn)
INGREDIENTS
3.5 lb. chicken, jointed into 8 pieces
2 dessert apples
60g (2 1/4 oz) butter
½ onion, finely chopped
1/2 celery stalk, finely chopped
10 g (1/4 oz.) flour
80ml (1/3 c.) brandy
375ml (13 fl oz) chicken stock
1/3 c. heavy cream
METHOD
- Slice the apples into wedges. Fry over moderate heat in some butter until browned and tender. Remove from the pan and keep warm.
- Heat more butter in the same pan, then add the chicken pieces, skin side down, and cook until golden. Turn over and cook for another 5 minutes. Lift the chicken out of the pan and put to one side.
- Heat the remaining butter in the same pan, add the onion and celery, and fry over moderate heat until the onion is translucent.
- Take the pan off the heat, sprinkle the flour over the onion mixture, and stir. Add the brandy slowly while stirring. Gradually stir in the chicken stock. Bring to the boil, return the chicken to the pan, cover and simmer gently for 15 minutes, or until the chicken is tender and cooked through.
- Remove the chicken from the pan and keep warm. Add the cream, bring to the boil and boil for 4 minutes, or until the sauce is thick enough to lightly coat the back of a wooden spoon. Season and pour over the chicken. Serve with the apple wedges.
Saturday, October 4, 2008
Dinner in Ithaca
It has been WAY too long, and so many exciting things, culinary- and travel-wise, have happened since March.
We've been in Ireland (fantastic pub food and the best sweet beer in the world, Kinsale ale), sailing north of Seattle (steak on the grill), in Newfoundland (cod - the last cod - and chips; hot turkey sandwiches ad nauseum; delicious moose sausage; the best, and freshest, mussels I've ever eaten), and across the U.S.A. from west to east (a final go at Bay Area favourites, Viennese delights in Salt Lake City, peanuts in the shell (and then on the floor) in Nebraska, canned corn (!) in Iowa, dreadful meat, meat, meat and fake gravy in the other "I" states and one superb French bistro in upstate New York - moules et frites, an enormous pork chop, and a lovely rare entrecôte that fed us for two days afterwards).
We've dined at the French Laundry, which was, as P put it, "transcendent" (mini ice cream cones of beet and horseradish; salmon and dill cream, oysters and pearls, the best foie gras in human experience, bread, butter and salt unlike any other, visual (and gustatory, of course) perfection on a plate, service like a dance, divine rabbit, six (!) dessert courses, truffles to finish, a surprise of "breakfast" - enough signature shortbread for eight); at Jardinière (cocktails, shockingly casual waiters, beautiful pairings, beef to die for and a $1000 bill); at Moosewood (an excellent simple flatbread with dill havarti and sharp scallions - a far cry from the dismal lunch I had there in May); at wd-50 (foie gras, again, but this time with malt balls (!!); cold lychee soup with unforgettable textures (dehydrated candied chicken, warm; fatty chicken confit, cool); jasmine custard squeezed out of a tube; nasturtium ice cream); at Jojo's (the best duck ever eaten by either C or P, perfectly rare); at Morimoto (wagyu carpaccio without compare; a bi bim bop prepared at table with crispy rice and seared yellowtail; duck (yes, again) with foie gras croissant to be dipped in barely cooked duck egg yolk).
It has been quite a summer!
Tonight, though, we are enjoying some of our own simple food. Exceptional rustic pâté from The Piggery on rye crisps with Novak's mustard; "eye-opener" bloody Marys with worcestershire, horseradish, lime and V8, P's simple beef chili with fresh farmers' market carrots and sweet corn; new potatoes and sour cream; excellent ginger cake (not Crixa, but I tried).
The cake recipe, adapted from Epicurious, is below.
We are glad to be home, and to be cooking.
Molasses Ginger Cake
Ingredients
3 1/4 cups all purpose flour
5 teaspoons ground ginger
2 1/2 teaspoons baking soda
1 1/2 teaspoons ground cinnamon
1/4 teaspoon salt
1 cup dark molasses
1 cup sugar
1/4 cup sour cream
2 large eggs
2 teaspoons vanilla extract
1 cup boiling water
1 cup vegetable oil
Preheat oven to 350°F. Butter lasagna-sized cake pan. Sift first 5 ingredients into medium bowl. Whisk molasses, sugar, sour cream, eggs, and vanilla in large bowl until well blended. Whisk in 1 cup boiling water and oil, then dry ingredients. Pour batter into prepared pan.
We've been in Ireland (fantastic pub food and the best sweet beer in the world, Kinsale ale), sailing north of Seattle (steak on the grill), in Newfoundland (cod - the last cod - and chips; hot turkey sandwiches ad nauseum; delicious moose sausage; the best, and freshest, mussels I've ever eaten), and across the U.S.A. from west to east (a final go at Bay Area favourites, Viennese delights in Salt Lake City, peanuts in the shell (and then on the floor) in Nebraska, canned corn (!) in Iowa, dreadful meat, meat, meat and fake gravy in the other "I" states and one superb French bistro in upstate New York - moules et frites, an enormous pork chop, and a lovely rare entrecôte that fed us for two days afterwards).
We've dined at the French Laundry, which was, as P put it, "transcendent" (mini ice cream cones of beet and horseradish; salmon and dill cream, oysters and pearls, the best foie gras in human experience, bread, butter and salt unlike any other, visual (and gustatory, of course) perfection on a plate, service like a dance, divine rabbit, six (!) dessert courses, truffles to finish, a surprise of "breakfast" - enough signature shortbread for eight); at Jardinière (cocktails, shockingly casual waiters, beautiful pairings, beef to die for and a $1000 bill); at Moosewood (an excellent simple flatbread with dill havarti and sharp scallions - a far cry from the dismal lunch I had there in May); at wd-50 (foie gras, again, but this time with malt balls (!!); cold lychee soup with unforgettable textures (dehydrated candied chicken, warm; fatty chicken confit, cool); jasmine custard squeezed out of a tube; nasturtium ice cream); at Jojo's (the best duck ever eaten by either C or P, perfectly rare); at Morimoto (wagyu carpaccio without compare; a bi bim bop prepared at table with crispy rice and seared yellowtail; duck (yes, again) with foie gras croissant to be dipped in barely cooked duck egg yolk).
It has been quite a summer!
Tonight, though, we are enjoying some of our own simple food. Exceptional rustic pâté from The Piggery on rye crisps with Novak's mustard; "eye-opener" bloody Marys with worcestershire, horseradish, lime and V8, P's simple beef chili with fresh farmers' market carrots and sweet corn; new potatoes and sour cream; excellent ginger cake (not Crixa, but I tried).
The cake recipe, adapted from Epicurious, is below.
We are glad to be home, and to be cooking.
Molasses Ginger Cake
Ingredients
3 1/4 cups all purpose flour
5 teaspoons ground ginger
2 1/2 teaspoons baking soda
1 1/2 teaspoons ground cinnamon
1/4 teaspoon salt
1 cup dark molasses
1 cup sugar
1/4 cup sour cream
2 large eggs
2 teaspoons vanilla extract
1 cup boiling water
1 cup vegetable oil
Preparation
Preheat oven to 350°F. Butter lasagna-sized cake pan. Sift first 5 ingredients into medium bowl. Whisk molasses, sugar, sour cream, eggs, and vanilla in large bowl until well blended. Whisk in 1 cup boiling water and oil, then dry ingredients. Pour batter into prepared pan.
Bake cake until tester inserted into center comes out clean, about 45 minutes. Cool in pan on rack 20 minutes; taste while still warm.
Epicurious remarks that this cake can be made 1 day ahead, covered and stored at room temperature; they serve it with warm caramel sauce and whipped cream - I serve it plain.
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