On Friday morning, I am getting on a plane and flying to Nashville for my best friend's baby shower. I am thrilled to be getting two and a half days to myself with Kimberly and Michael, and a teensy bit apprehensive to be leaving my son for the longest I've ever been away from him. Can you believe he's almost three and I've never spent a night away from him? I anticipate calling my husband roughly 43 times in the space of 54 hours.
I am knitting madly away on a baby blanket for Kimberly and Michael's little Sproutlet, and for that reason, I am going to keep it short for the next few days. On Friday, in celebration of my destination, I'm planning on posting a recipe for an authentic Kentucky Hot Brown, possibly the best sandwich on earth next to this insane concoction served in a neighborhood bar in my home town, an open-faced hangover cure of rye bread, roasted turkey, smoked ham, melted cheddar cheese, and bleu cheese dressing. Nomnomnomnomnomnom.
It's Passover, and I am not Jewish, but you never know when you might run into someone who keeps kosher. I don't understand a lot about Jewish dietary law, except that it's considered very strict. Here's a dessert for Passover; it looks delicious, even for someone as religiously ambivalent as I am.
Flourless Chocolate Apple Torte
1/2 cup matzo meal
1/3 cup walnuts
2 large eggs
1 1/4 cups sugar, divided
2 teaspoons vanilla extract
1 cup grated peeled apple
2 tablespoons unsweetened cocoa powder
2 ounces bittersweet or semisweet chocolate, chopped
8 large egg whites, at room temperature
1/2 teaspoon salt
Confectioners' sugar for dusting
Preheat oven to 350 degrees F.
Combine matzo meal and walnuts in a food processor; process until nuts are finely chopped. Spread on a baking sheet and toast until fragrant, 5 to 10 minutes. Let cool.
Whisk eggs, 3/4 cup sugar and vanilla in a large bowl until blended. Stir in the matzo mixture, apple, cocoa and chocolate.
Beat egg whites and salt in large, clean bowl, with an electric mixer on medium speed until frothy. Increase speed to high and beat until soft peaks form. Add remaining 1/2 cup sugar 1 Tbsp. at a time, beating until glossy and stiff peaks form.
Stir one-quarter of the beaten whites into the batter. Gently fold in remaining whites with a rubber spatula. Scrape the batter into an ungreased 9-inch springform pan, spreading evenly.
Tap pan lightly on counter to release air bubbles.
Bake torte until top springs back when touched lightly and a skewer inserted in the center comes out clean, 40 to 45 minutes. With a knife, loosen edges of torte. Let cool in pan on a wire rack. (Torte will sink in center).
Remove pan sides and place torte on a serving platter. Dust with confectioners' sugar and serve.
Showing posts with label Traditions. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Traditions. Show all posts
Monday, April 14, 2008
Friday, April 4, 2008
April 4: Chicken Divan
Today is my mother's 68th birthday. Happy birthday, Mary. You don't read this and with any luck you'll never know that such a thing as a blog exists, let alone that I write one, but happy birthday nonetheless.
I have an enormous soft spot for retro food, old-fashioned comfort food that my grandmother made when my mother was young. Lots of it needs to be remodeled, desperately--way too much of it is heavy, canned, full of salt and high-fructose corn syrup, fattening, and no longer that interesting.
I have to admit that despite my disinterest in most of what they do, Cook's Country has a recipe in it for Chicken Divan. Their description of the original dish sounds fussy to a really unnecessary degree: "The original recipe from New York's famed (and now defunct) Divan Parisien restaurant dates back almost 100 years and required a whole poached chicken, boiled broccoli, and a sauce made with bechamel sauce, hollandaise sauce, Parmesan cheese and whipped cream." Yikes.
Yeah, no wonder there's usually so much canned soup involved in most renditions of Chicken Divan. I am just not into either option. But Cook's Country just really looks like they have a great take on this sucker--it looks opulent and delicious and fabulous. I am planning on trying this over the weekend.
Modern Chicken Divan
3 tablespoons vegetable oil
1 1/2 pounds broccoli, stalks discarded, florets cut into bite-sized pieces
2 1/2 cups low-sodium chicken broth
1 1/2 pounds boneless, skinless chicken breasts
Salt and pepper
1/4 cup all-purpose flour
2 medium shallots, minced
1 cup heavy cream
1/2 cup dry sherry
2 teaspoons Worcestershire sauce
1 1/2 cups grated Parmesan cheese
3 large egg yolks
1 tablespoon lemon juice
3 tablespoons unsalted butter
Adjust oven rack to lower-middle position and heat broiler. Heat 1 tablespoon oil in large skillet over medium-high heat until just smoking. Add broccoli and cook until spotty brown, about 1 minute. Add 1/2 cup broth, cover, and steam until just tender, about 1 1/2 minutes. Remove lid and cook until liquid has evaporated, about 1 minute. Transfer broccoli to plate lined with paper towels; rinse and wipe out skillet.
Heat remaining 2 tablespoons oil in now-empty skillet over medium-high heat until smoking. Meanwhile, season chicken with salt and pepper and dredge in flour to coat. Cook chicken until golden brown, 2 to 3 minutes per side. Transfer chicken to plate.
Off heat add shallots to skillet and cook until just beginning to color, about 1 minute. Add remaining 2 cups broth and cream and scrape fond from bottom of pan. Return chicken to skillet and simmer over medium heat until cooked through, about 10 minutes. Transfer chicken to clean plate and continue to simmer sauce until reduced to 1 cup, about ten minutes. Add sherry and Worcestershire and simmer until reduced again to one cup, about 3 minutes.
Stir in 1 cup parmesan. Whisk yolks and lemon juice ina small bowl, then whisk in about 1/4 cup sauce. Off heat, whisk egg yolk mixture into sauce in skillet, then whisk into butter.
Cut chicken into 1/2 inch thick slices and arrange on broiler-safe plate. Scatter broccoli over chicken, and pour sauce over broccoli. Sprinkle with remaining parmesan cheese and broil until golden brown, 3-5 minutes. Serve.
I have an enormous soft spot for retro food, old-fashioned comfort food that my grandmother made when my mother was young. Lots of it needs to be remodeled, desperately--way too much of it is heavy, canned, full of salt and high-fructose corn syrup, fattening, and no longer that interesting.
I have to admit that despite my disinterest in most of what they do, Cook's Country has a recipe in it for Chicken Divan. Their description of the original dish sounds fussy to a really unnecessary degree: "The original recipe from New York's famed (and now defunct) Divan Parisien restaurant dates back almost 100 years and required a whole poached chicken, boiled broccoli, and a sauce made with bechamel sauce, hollandaise sauce, Parmesan cheese and whipped cream." Yikes.
Yeah, no wonder there's usually so much canned soup involved in most renditions of Chicken Divan. I am just not into either option. But Cook's Country just really looks like they have a great take on this sucker--it looks opulent and delicious and fabulous. I am planning on trying this over the weekend.
Modern Chicken Divan
3 tablespoons vegetable oil
1 1/2 pounds broccoli, stalks discarded, florets cut into bite-sized pieces
2 1/2 cups low-sodium chicken broth
1 1/2 pounds boneless, skinless chicken breasts
Salt and pepper
1/4 cup all-purpose flour
2 medium shallots, minced
1 cup heavy cream
1/2 cup dry sherry
2 teaspoons Worcestershire sauce
1 1/2 cups grated Parmesan cheese
3 large egg yolks
1 tablespoon lemon juice
3 tablespoons unsalted butter
Adjust oven rack to lower-middle position and heat broiler. Heat 1 tablespoon oil in large skillet over medium-high heat until just smoking. Add broccoli and cook until spotty brown, about 1 minute. Add 1/2 cup broth, cover, and steam until just tender, about 1 1/2 minutes. Remove lid and cook until liquid has evaporated, about 1 minute. Transfer broccoli to plate lined with paper towels; rinse and wipe out skillet.
Heat remaining 2 tablespoons oil in now-empty skillet over medium-high heat until smoking. Meanwhile, season chicken with salt and pepper and dredge in flour to coat. Cook chicken until golden brown, 2 to 3 minutes per side. Transfer chicken to plate.
Off heat add shallots to skillet and cook until just beginning to color, about 1 minute. Add remaining 2 cups broth and cream and scrape fond from bottom of pan. Return chicken to skillet and simmer over medium heat until cooked through, about 10 minutes. Transfer chicken to clean plate and continue to simmer sauce until reduced to 1 cup, about ten minutes. Add sherry and Worcestershire and simmer until reduced again to one cup, about 3 minutes.
Stir in 1 cup parmesan. Whisk yolks and lemon juice ina small bowl, then whisk in about 1/4 cup sauce. Off heat, whisk egg yolk mixture into sauce in skillet, then whisk into butter.
Cut chicken into 1/2 inch thick slices and arrange on broiler-safe plate. Scatter broccoli over chicken, and pour sauce over broccoli. Sprinkle with remaining parmesan cheese and broil until golden brown, 3-5 minutes. Serve.
Sunday, March 16, 2008
March 16: Herb-Crusted Pork Roast
I am not a huge fan of ham. For one thing, as a child, Easter always seemed to be the time of year that I would find myself with a stomach virus, so hard-boiled eggs and ham always make me think of terrible Easter nights spent hugging the toilet. Then, when I was pregnant and had round-the-clock morning sickness for four months, only to be replaced swiftly by a debilitating case of gastroenteritis which landed me in the hospital for several days and had me not feeling 100 percent for several weeks afterwards. In this lasting period of varying degrees of queasiness, I found that ham, to me, looked like what I described to my husband as people meat--cooked and sliced human being of some sort. I can manage a ham sandwich, sort of, as long as there's some pickles and cheese and mustard, something to make me not think too hard about what I'm actually eating.
So, of course, as far as holidays go, Easter's not my favorite. Ham is the traditional Easter dinner around my house, and my grandmother was a big believer in a glazed ham with pineapple rounds, cloves, and marashino cherries. Thinking about what to make for my own family, I think I'd like to give them something a little fresher, less sugary, with fewer artificial colors involved.
I love a center-cut pork loin roast how easy it is to make--it's compact, uniformly-sized, and easy to slice. It's also a little bland. Usually I make some kind of a pan sauce or stuffing, but this year, I'm going to do an herb crust, courtesy of America's Test Kitchen.
Herb-Crusted Pork Loin
1 boneless center-cut pork loin roast (2 1/2-3 lbs.)
Salt
1/4 cup sugar
1 slice high-quality white sandwich bread, torn into pieces
1 ounce parmesan or pecorino cheese, grated (about 1/2 cup)
1 shallot, minced
4 tablespoons plus 2 teaspoons olive oil
Pepper
1/2 cup packed fresh parsley or basil
2 tablespoons minced fresh thyme
1 teaspoon minced fresh rosemary or 1/2 teaspoon dried
1 garlic clove, minced
With a sharp knife, score the fat cap on the pork, making a 1/4 inch crosshatch pattern, then cut a pocket in the side of the roast, stopping 1/2 inch short of each end. Pull open the roast to cut the pocket deeper. Dissolve 1/2 cup salt and the sugar in 2 quarts water in a large container, submerge roast, cover with plastic wrap, and refrigerate for 1 hour. Rinse the roast with cold water and dry with paper towels.
Adjust an oven rack to the lower-middle position and heat the oven to 325. Pulse the bread in a food processor until goarsely ground, about sixteen 1-second pulses. Transfer crumbs to a medium bowl (do not wash the food processor) and add 2 tablespoons of parmesan, the shallot, 1 tablespoon of oil, 1/8 teaspoon salt, and 1/8 teaspoon pepper. Using a fork, toss the mixture until the crumbs are evenly coated with oil.
Add the parsley, thyme, rosemary, garlic, remaining parmesan, 3 tablespoons oil, 1/8 teaspoon salt, and 1/8 teaspoon pepper to the now-empty food processor and process until smooth, about 12 1-second pulses. Transfer the herb paste to a small bowl.
Spread 1/4 cup inside the herb paste inside the pocket in the roast and tie at 3 intervals along the length of the roast with kitchen twine. Season the roast with salt and pepper.
Heat the remaining 2 teaspoons of oil in a 12-inch skillet over medium-high heat until just smoking. Add the roast fat-side down and brown on all sides, 8-10 minutes, lowering the heat if the fat starts to smoke. Transfer the roast to a wire rack set in a rimmed baking sheet lined with aluminum foil.
Using scissors, snip and remove the twine from the roast, discard twine. Spread the remaining herb paste over the roast; top with the bread crumb mixture. Transfer the baking sheet with the roast to the oven and cook until the thickest part of the roast registers 145 degrees on an instant-read thermometer, 50-75 minutes. Remove the roast from the oven and let rest 10 minutes.
Transfer to a carving board, taking care not to squeeze the juices out of the pocket in the roast. Cut into 1/2 inch slices and serve immediately.
So, of course, as far as holidays go, Easter's not my favorite. Ham is the traditional Easter dinner around my house, and my grandmother was a big believer in a glazed ham with pineapple rounds, cloves, and marashino cherries. Thinking about what to make for my own family, I think I'd like to give them something a little fresher, less sugary, with fewer artificial colors involved.
I love a center-cut pork loin roast how easy it is to make--it's compact, uniformly-sized, and easy to slice. It's also a little bland. Usually I make some kind of a pan sauce or stuffing, but this year, I'm going to do an herb crust, courtesy of America's Test Kitchen.
Herb-Crusted Pork Loin
1 boneless center-cut pork loin roast (2 1/2-3 lbs.)
Salt
1/4 cup sugar
1 slice high-quality white sandwich bread, torn into pieces
1 ounce parmesan or pecorino cheese, grated (about 1/2 cup)
1 shallot, minced
4 tablespoons plus 2 teaspoons olive oil
Pepper
1/2 cup packed fresh parsley or basil
2 tablespoons minced fresh thyme
1 teaspoon minced fresh rosemary or 1/2 teaspoon dried
1 garlic clove, minced
With a sharp knife, score the fat cap on the pork, making a 1/4 inch crosshatch pattern, then cut a pocket in the side of the roast, stopping 1/2 inch short of each end. Pull open the roast to cut the pocket deeper. Dissolve 1/2 cup salt and the sugar in 2 quarts water in a large container, submerge roast, cover with plastic wrap, and refrigerate for 1 hour. Rinse the roast with cold water and dry with paper towels.
Adjust an oven rack to the lower-middle position and heat the oven to 325. Pulse the bread in a food processor until goarsely ground, about sixteen 1-second pulses. Transfer crumbs to a medium bowl (do not wash the food processor) and add 2 tablespoons of parmesan, the shallot, 1 tablespoon of oil, 1/8 teaspoon salt, and 1/8 teaspoon pepper. Using a fork, toss the mixture until the crumbs are evenly coated with oil.
Add the parsley, thyme, rosemary, garlic, remaining parmesan, 3 tablespoons oil, 1/8 teaspoon salt, and 1/8 teaspoon pepper to the now-empty food processor and process until smooth, about 12 1-second pulses. Transfer the herb paste to a small bowl.
Spread 1/4 cup inside the herb paste inside the pocket in the roast and tie at 3 intervals along the length of the roast with kitchen twine. Season the roast with salt and pepper.
Heat the remaining 2 teaspoons of oil in a 12-inch skillet over medium-high heat until just smoking. Add the roast fat-side down and brown on all sides, 8-10 minutes, lowering the heat if the fat starts to smoke. Transfer the roast to a wire rack set in a rimmed baking sheet lined with aluminum foil.
Using scissors, snip and remove the twine from the roast, discard twine. Spread the remaining herb paste over the roast; top with the bread crumb mixture. Transfer the baking sheet with the roast to the oven and cook until the thickest part of the roast registers 145 degrees on an instant-read thermometer, 50-75 minutes. Remove the roast from the oven and let rest 10 minutes.
Transfer to a carving board, taking care not to squeeze the juices out of the pocket in the roast. Cut into 1/2 inch slices and serve immediately.
Thursday, February 28, 2008
February 28: Salad of Smoked Trout, Radicchio, and Grapefruit
Ask me why I don't have any recipes for fish on this site. Quick, ask me. Well, I'll tell you: I am afraid of fish.
I have a pretty eclectic palate, I think, and I don't consider myself a fussy eater. But when it comes to fish, I'm Sam I Am. I do not like them in a car, I do not like them in a bar. I will not eat them here or there, I will not eat them anywhere.
Unless we're talking about smoked fish. And then I am on board. I can't tell you why I'm okay with smoked fish, except that I grew up close to Lake Michigan, and often vacationed there. When we did, my mother held an afternoon Happy Hour daily. We would come up from the beach to whatever condo or house we were renting and fix snacks and drinks and take them to the deck for a couple of hours before dinner. When it comes to liking snacktime better than an actual meal, I've been guilty as charged for my whole life.
Being near the lake, there was often smoked whitefish or lake trout available when we were vacationing, so that was often part of the Happy Hour snack buffet, along with veggies and dip, chips and salsa, hummus and pita bread, cheese and crackers, antipasto, stuffed mushrooms, or any other easy little easy snacks we had around. Even though I was never interested in fish in any other form, smoked fish is something I associate with vacation, summertime, long afternoons, and having nothing much to think about but cute boys on the beach.
I saw this recipe on another food blog this week, and I am aching to try it. In my head, I can see how it'll all come together: the sweet smokiness of the trout, the sweet-sour of the grapefruit, the bitter of the raddichio. This sounds like an amazing first course for an amazing meal, like maybe a roast tenderloin with crispy potatoes from the oven, followed by a poached pear with caramel sauce. I really need to invite people for dinner more often.
This serves 6. It originated in Food and Wine magazine nine years ago.
Daniel Boulud's Salad of Smoked Trout, Pink Grapefruit, and Radicchio
1 cup of bread in 1/2" cubes
1 garlic clove, minced
1 tablespoon olive oil
1 large pink grapefruit
1/3 cup heavy cream
2 tablespoons sherry vinegar
1 head radicchio, about 3/4 pound
1 smoked trout (about 8 oz)
1/2 cup walnut pieces
2 teaspoons chopped fresh cilantro, plus additional whole leaves for garnish
3 small scallions, white parts only, thinly sliced
Salt
Pepper
1. Toss the bread cubes with the garlic and oil and then bake them in a 350 degree oven until the bread cubes are golden, about 7 minutes
2. Toast the walnut pieces in 350 degree oven until they are fragrant, about 5 minutes
3. Peel the grapefruit, and then peel the membranes off the individual sections. Do this over a bowl so you can catch the juice also. Set aside six sections for garnish and cut the remaining slices into small (approximately 1/2”) pieces.
4. Whisk together the cream and vinegar and season with salt and pepper.
5. Tear the radicchio leaves into bite-sized pieces. Toss with enough dressing to moisten well. Add the smoked trout, walnuts, chopped cilantro, scallions, grapefruit pieces, and croutons. Add salt and pepper, then toss well, adding more dressing if needed. Taste and adjust seasoning.
6. Garnish with reserved cilantro and reserved grapefruit. Serve with additional dressing on the side.
Note: Daniel Boloud suggests reserving 12 of the largest radicchio leaves and serve the salad in those, two to a person.
I have a pretty eclectic palate, I think, and I don't consider myself a fussy eater. But when it comes to fish, I'm Sam I Am. I do not like them in a car, I do not like them in a bar. I will not eat them here or there, I will not eat them anywhere.
Unless we're talking about smoked fish. And then I am on board. I can't tell you why I'm okay with smoked fish, except that I grew up close to Lake Michigan, and often vacationed there. When we did, my mother held an afternoon Happy Hour daily. We would come up from the beach to whatever condo or house we were renting and fix snacks and drinks and take them to the deck for a couple of hours before dinner. When it comes to liking snacktime better than an actual meal, I've been guilty as charged for my whole life.
Being near the lake, there was often smoked whitefish or lake trout available when we were vacationing, so that was often part of the Happy Hour snack buffet, along with veggies and dip, chips and salsa, hummus and pita bread, cheese and crackers, antipasto, stuffed mushrooms, or any other easy little easy snacks we had around. Even though I was never interested in fish in any other form, smoked fish is something I associate with vacation, summertime, long afternoons, and having nothing much to think about but cute boys on the beach.
I saw this recipe on another food blog this week, and I am aching to try it. In my head, I can see how it'll all come together: the sweet smokiness of the trout, the sweet-sour of the grapefruit, the bitter of the raddichio. This sounds like an amazing first course for an amazing meal, like maybe a roast tenderloin with crispy potatoes from the oven, followed by a poached pear with caramel sauce. I really need to invite people for dinner more often.
This serves 6. It originated in Food and Wine magazine nine years ago.
Daniel Boulud's Salad of Smoked Trout, Pink Grapefruit, and Radicchio
1 cup of bread in 1/2" cubes
1 garlic clove, minced
1 tablespoon olive oil
1 large pink grapefruit
1/3 cup heavy cream
2 tablespoons sherry vinegar
1 head radicchio, about 3/4 pound
1 smoked trout (about 8 oz)
1/2 cup walnut pieces
2 teaspoons chopped fresh cilantro, plus additional whole leaves for garnish
3 small scallions, white parts only, thinly sliced
Salt
Pepper
1. Toss the bread cubes with the garlic and oil and then bake them in a 350 degree oven until the bread cubes are golden, about 7 minutes
2. Toast the walnut pieces in 350 degree oven until they are fragrant, about 5 minutes
3. Peel the grapefruit, and then peel the membranes off the individual sections. Do this over a bowl so you can catch the juice also. Set aside six sections for garnish and cut the remaining slices into small (approximately 1/2”) pieces.
4. Whisk together the cream and vinegar and season with salt and pepper.
5. Tear the radicchio leaves into bite-sized pieces. Toss with enough dressing to moisten well. Add the smoked trout, walnuts, chopped cilantro, scallions, grapefruit pieces, and croutons. Add salt and pepper, then toss well, adding more dressing if needed. Taste and adjust seasoning.
6. Garnish with reserved cilantro and reserved grapefruit. Serve with additional dressing on the side.
Note: Daniel Boloud suggests reserving 12 of the largest radicchio leaves and serve the salad in those, two to a person.
Sunday, February 24, 2008
February 24: King Ranch Chicken Casserole
Every now and then I run into a total food oddity. Fried pickles, for example: who would have thought that fried pickles would taste so good? A great fried dill pickle is battered and deep-fried until golden and crispy, and they are so straightforward and unpretentious that I can't resist them. It's like that aunt who everyone but you dreads seeing at family gatherings because she's so outspoken, dresses flamboyantly, and embarasses all her sisters, but you find completely hilarious.
Enter the King Ranch Chicken Casserole. According to one of my very favorite food bloggers, Homesick Texan, this casserole has simple roots: named maybe after a giant ranch in southern Texas or maybe after retro classic chicken a la king, this recipe is almost an enchilada casserole, and almost a chicken lasagna, Tex-Mex style.
In addition to being a big fan of Tex-Mex and Mexican food, I am a fan of casseroles as well. They are great comfort food, they freeze well, feed a crowd, and make great leftovers. I like the simplicity of a one pot meal coming to the table on a Monday night, giving you all your meat, starch, and vegetables in one spoonful and leaving minimal cleanup in the kitchen.
This casserole sounded incredibly weird to me the first time I heard about it, but after reading Homesick Texan's redux, I am a convert. This is her recipe, a grownup version of a casserole that originally contained two kinds of canned soup and a whole roasted 2 1/2 pound chicken. She calls this "slightly fancy-pants." I am okay with that.
King Ranch Chicken Casserole
Ingredients
1 1/2 pounds of chicken, without skin and bones
4 teaspoons of lime juice
1/4 cup of olive oil
3 cloves of garlic, minced
4 tablespoons of butter
1/2 an onion, diced
1 red bell pepper, diced
1 poblano pepper, diced
1 10oz. can of Ro-Tel tomatoes (or you can use a can of regular diced tomatoes and a 4 oz. can of diced green chiles, or if tomatoes are in season, can use two cups of diced fresh tomatoes with 1/4 cup of diced green chiles, such as a jalapeno)
4 teaspoons ancho chile powder
1 teaspoon of cumin
1 cup of chicken broth
2 tablespoons of flour
1/2 teaspoon of cayenne pepper
1/2 cup of half and half
1/3 cup of sour cream
1/2 cup of cilantro, chopped
3 cups of grated pepper jack and cheddar
10 corn tortillas
Salt and pepper to taste.
1. Cook the chicken in the olive oil on medium, adding 2 teaspoons of lime juice, 2 teaspoons of ancho chile powder and salt to taste.
2. When chicken is done (after about 20 minutes), shred it with two forks and set aside. Should yield about 3 cups.
3. Melt the butter in a saucepan on medium, and add the onions, red bell pepper and poblano pepper. Cook for 10 minutes.
4. Add the garlic, flour, cumin, cayenne pepper and 2 teaspoons of ancho chile powder, and cook for 1 minute.
5. Add the chicken broth and cook on low until mixture is thickened, a few minutes. Stir in the half-and-half and Ro-Tel cover the pot, and simmer for about 15 minutes, stirring occasionally.
6. Uncover the pot, and add the sour cream, 2 teaspoons of lime juice and 1/4 cup of cilantro, and add salt and pepper to taste. Turn off heat.
7. Preheat the oven to 350 degrees.
8. Heat up the tortillas (you can do this by adding a bit of oil on an iron skillet and then cooking the tortillas for about 30 seconds on each side).
9. Ladle 1/2 cup of the sauce onto the bottom of an 11 x 7 inch baking pan.
10. Layer half the tortillas along the bottom of the pan (on top of the sauce). To make sure entire pan is evenly covered, you can rip some of the tortillas into strips to fill any gaps.
11. Add half the chicken, half the remaining sauce, half the remaining cilantro and 1 1/2 cups of grated cheese.
12. Repeat the layering, leaving the cheese layer on top.
13. Cook uncovered for 30 minutes or until brown and bubbling. Serves 6-12, depending on how big a portion you distribute. Goes great with sour cream and cilantro on top.
Enter the King Ranch Chicken Casserole. According to one of my very favorite food bloggers, Homesick Texan, this casserole has simple roots: named maybe after a giant ranch in southern Texas or maybe after retro classic chicken a la king, this recipe is almost an enchilada casserole, and almost a chicken lasagna, Tex-Mex style.
In addition to being a big fan of Tex-Mex and Mexican food, I am a fan of casseroles as well. They are great comfort food, they freeze well, feed a crowd, and make great leftovers. I like the simplicity of a one pot meal coming to the table on a Monday night, giving you all your meat, starch, and vegetables in one spoonful and leaving minimal cleanup in the kitchen.
This casserole sounded incredibly weird to me the first time I heard about it, but after reading Homesick Texan's redux, I am a convert. This is her recipe, a grownup version of a casserole that originally contained two kinds of canned soup and a whole roasted 2 1/2 pound chicken. She calls this "slightly fancy-pants." I am okay with that.
King Ranch Chicken Casserole
Ingredients
1 1/2 pounds of chicken, without skin and bones
4 teaspoons of lime juice
1/4 cup of olive oil
3 cloves of garlic, minced
4 tablespoons of butter
1/2 an onion, diced
1 red bell pepper, diced
1 poblano pepper, diced
1 10oz. can of Ro-Tel tomatoes (or you can use a can of regular diced tomatoes and a 4 oz. can of diced green chiles, or if tomatoes are in season, can use two cups of diced fresh tomatoes with 1/4 cup of diced green chiles, such as a jalapeno)
4 teaspoons ancho chile powder
1 teaspoon of cumin
1 cup of chicken broth
2 tablespoons of flour
1/2 teaspoon of cayenne pepper
1/2 cup of half and half
1/3 cup of sour cream
1/2 cup of cilantro, chopped
3 cups of grated pepper jack and cheddar
10 corn tortillas
Salt and pepper to taste.
1. Cook the chicken in the olive oil on medium, adding 2 teaspoons of lime juice, 2 teaspoons of ancho chile powder and salt to taste.
2. When chicken is done (after about 20 minutes), shred it with two forks and set aside. Should yield about 3 cups.
3. Melt the butter in a saucepan on medium, and add the onions, red bell pepper and poblano pepper. Cook for 10 minutes.
4. Add the garlic, flour, cumin, cayenne pepper and 2 teaspoons of ancho chile powder, and cook for 1 minute.
5. Add the chicken broth and cook on low until mixture is thickened, a few minutes. Stir in the half-and-half and Ro-Tel cover the pot, and simmer for about 15 minutes, stirring occasionally.
6. Uncover the pot, and add the sour cream, 2 teaspoons of lime juice and 1/4 cup of cilantro, and add salt and pepper to taste. Turn off heat.
7. Preheat the oven to 350 degrees.
8. Heat up the tortillas (you can do this by adding a bit of oil on an iron skillet and then cooking the tortillas for about 30 seconds on each side).
9. Ladle 1/2 cup of the sauce onto the bottom of an 11 x 7 inch baking pan.
10. Layer half the tortillas along the bottom of the pan (on top of the sauce). To make sure entire pan is evenly covered, you can rip some of the tortillas into strips to fill any gaps.
11. Add half the chicken, half the remaining sauce, half the remaining cilantro and 1 1/2 cups of grated cheese.
12. Repeat the layering, leaving the cheese layer on top.
13. Cook uncovered for 30 minutes or until brown and bubbling. Serves 6-12, depending on how big a portion you distribute. Goes great with sour cream and cilantro on top.
Friday, February 8, 2008
February 8: Spiedies
My cousin Don used to work for IBM in Endicott, New York, on the Western side of the state. (He still works for IBM, but he lives in North Carolina now. This is in no way germaine to this story, but just for the sake of accuracy...you know.) One summer, when I was maybe 8 or 9 -- Don is maybe 15 or so years older than I -- he came home for a visit and announced that we were all having Spiedies.
Spiedies (pronounced spee-dees) are chunks of skewered chicken, although I guess a variety of meats are commonly used. They're marinated, grilled over charcoal, drizzled with fresh marinade, and served on a slice of Italian bread--the grocery store kind, with sesame seeds on top.
I can't explain to you how glorious this was. They were amazing, crusty, with a deep complexity, beautifully textured, served with a big bowl of my grandmother's cabbage salad--a recipe I'd love to give you, except that nobody in family seems to be able to reproduce it and she died four years ago--and my mother's exceptionally boring potato salad. I call it exceptionally boring because it is, and she even says so.
I forgot all about spiedies until ten years later, when I went away to college and my friend Ryan turned out to be from Westfield, NY, not terribly far from Endicott. Not only was Ryan familiar with this regional delicacy, he is almost as big a food nerd as I am. I don't know many 18-year-olds that served Sunday brunch to their friends in their college dorm rooms, but he did. And when I say brunch, I mean brunch: quiche lorraine, broiled grapefruit with brown sugar, vanilla french toast, country ham. That kid could throw down in the kitchen.
I seem to have forgotten about spiedies again until I heard some mention of them on NPR recently. Spiedies! Of course! Mmmmm, spiedies.
The recipe that I found for them uses beef, although you could really probably use chicken, or pork, or whatever else floats your boat. Not having tried this recipe, I have to say that I have serious reservations about the length of time that is called for in marinating, and the amount of acid in the marinade. At the risk of sounding like Alton Brown, acid turns meat fibers into mush. A mushy surface on your meat tastes...mushy. Consider reducing the marinating time, or not, as you see fit. I am not sure how many this would serve, the recipes that I found were all frustratingly non-specific. This seemed to be the simplest, most pure incarnation of a spiedie.
Spiedies
3 pounds boneless beef; cubed
1 cup olive or vegetable oil
1/2 cup dry white wine
3 tablespoons lemon juice
4 tablespoons worcestershire sauce
1/4 cup fresh sweet basil; chopped
4 cloves fresh garlic; chopped
3/4 cup italian parsley; chopped
3 tablespoons fresh mint; chopped
salt to taste
pepper to taste
Sliced loaf of Italian bread
Combine marinade ingredients. Reserve 1/2 cup of marinade.
Let meat marinate in refrigerator for three days in a non-reactive plastic, ceramic, or non-aluminum metal bowl.
Skewer; grill over hot coals. (A note: as it is currently winter, I would consider another medium. Like maybe your broiler, or a grill pan.) Using a slice of bread as an oven mitt, grasp the meat with one hand and remove the skewer with the other.
Drizzle the sandwiches with the reserved marinade. Serve immediately.
Spiedies (pronounced spee-dees) are chunks of skewered chicken, although I guess a variety of meats are commonly used. They're marinated, grilled over charcoal, drizzled with fresh marinade, and served on a slice of Italian bread--the grocery store kind, with sesame seeds on top.
I can't explain to you how glorious this was. They were amazing, crusty, with a deep complexity, beautifully textured, served with a big bowl of my grandmother's cabbage salad--a recipe I'd love to give you, except that nobody in family seems to be able to reproduce it and she died four years ago--and my mother's exceptionally boring potato salad. I call it exceptionally boring because it is, and she even says so.
I forgot all about spiedies until ten years later, when I went away to college and my friend Ryan turned out to be from Westfield, NY, not terribly far from Endicott. Not only was Ryan familiar with this regional delicacy, he is almost as big a food nerd as I am. I don't know many 18-year-olds that served Sunday brunch to their friends in their college dorm rooms, but he did. And when I say brunch, I mean brunch: quiche lorraine, broiled grapefruit with brown sugar, vanilla french toast, country ham. That kid could throw down in the kitchen.
I seem to have forgotten about spiedies again until I heard some mention of them on NPR recently. Spiedies! Of course! Mmmmm, spiedies.
The recipe that I found for them uses beef, although you could really probably use chicken, or pork, or whatever else floats your boat. Not having tried this recipe, I have to say that I have serious reservations about the length of time that is called for in marinating, and the amount of acid in the marinade. At the risk of sounding like Alton Brown, acid turns meat fibers into mush. A mushy surface on your meat tastes...mushy. Consider reducing the marinating time, or not, as you see fit. I am not sure how many this would serve, the recipes that I found were all frustratingly non-specific. This seemed to be the simplest, most pure incarnation of a spiedie.
Spiedies
3 pounds boneless beef; cubed
1 cup olive or vegetable oil
1/2 cup dry white wine
3 tablespoons lemon juice
4 tablespoons worcestershire sauce
1/4 cup fresh sweet basil; chopped
4 cloves fresh garlic; chopped
3/4 cup italian parsley; chopped
3 tablespoons fresh mint; chopped
salt to taste
pepper to taste
Sliced loaf of Italian bread
Combine marinade ingredients. Reserve 1/2 cup of marinade.
Let meat marinate in refrigerator for three days in a non-reactive plastic, ceramic, or non-aluminum metal bowl.
Skewer; grill over hot coals. (A note: as it is currently winter, I would consider another medium. Like maybe your broiler, or a grill pan.) Using a slice of bread as an oven mitt, grasp the meat with one hand and remove the skewer with the other.
Drizzle the sandwiches with the reserved marinade. Serve immediately.
Monday, December 31, 2007
December 31: Hoppin' John
"One pound of bacon, one pint of red peas, one pint of rice" — this is how Sarah Rutledge begin what may well be the first written receipt for this quintessential Lowcountry dish. The daughter of Edward Rutledge, a signer of the Declaration of Independence, and niece of Arthur Middleton, another signer, Miss Rutledge was the "Lady of Charleston" who anonymously authored The Carolina Housewife in 1847.
Southern ladies are great observers of tradition and superstition. Miss Rutledge probably knew that this humble dish of black eyed peas, or dried field peas, are served with rice and greens and cornbread and pot likker, and are thought to bring good luck in the new year.
Most likely, the dish arrived in the south with the slaves. There were tens of thousands in Charleston and on the neighboring rice plantations of the 17th and 18th centuries. Those West Africans were long familiar with rice cultivation and cookery, and the pigeon pea, favored throughout Africa, found a favorable environment in the Caribbean, where many of the slaves first landed. The Carolina Housewife may have been written by a "Lady of Charleston," but dishes such as hoppin' john were staples in the "big house" that had been brought there by black cooks. You need not be a historian to understand that the slaves taught the master to love this simple dish.
I hope that this recipe brings you all the good luck in the New Year that Sarah Rutledge and her predecessors expected. Happy New Year.
Makes six servings.
Ingredients:
1 cup small dried beans such as cowpeas or black-eyes
5 to 6 cups water
1 dried hot pepper (optional)
1 smoked ham hock
1 medium onion, chopped (about 3/4 cup)
1 cup long-grain white rice
Wash and pick over the peas. Place them in a saucepan, add the water, and discard any peas that float. Gently boil the peas with the pepper, ham hock, and onion, uncovered, until tender but not mushy — about 1 1/2 hours — or until 2 cups of liquid remain.
Add the rice to the pot, cover, and simmer over low heat for about 20 minutes, never lifting the lid.
Remove from the heat and allow to steam, still covered, for another 10 minutes. Remove the cover, fluff with a fork, and serve immediately with greens and cornbread.
Southern ladies are great observers of tradition and superstition. Miss Rutledge probably knew that this humble dish of black eyed peas, or dried field peas, are served with rice and greens and cornbread and pot likker, and are thought to bring good luck in the new year.
Most likely, the dish arrived in the south with the slaves. There were tens of thousands in Charleston and on the neighboring rice plantations of the 17th and 18th centuries. Those West Africans were long familiar with rice cultivation and cookery, and the pigeon pea, favored throughout Africa, found a favorable environment in the Caribbean, where many of the slaves first landed. The Carolina Housewife may have been written by a "Lady of Charleston," but dishes such as hoppin' john were staples in the "big house" that had been brought there by black cooks. You need not be a historian to understand that the slaves taught the master to love this simple dish.
I hope that this recipe brings you all the good luck in the New Year that Sarah Rutledge and her predecessors expected. Happy New Year.
Makes six servings.
Ingredients:
1 cup small dried beans such as cowpeas or black-eyes
5 to 6 cups water
1 dried hot pepper (optional)
1 smoked ham hock
1 medium onion, chopped (about 3/4 cup)
1 cup long-grain white rice
Wash and pick over the peas. Place them in a saucepan, add the water, and discard any peas that float. Gently boil the peas with the pepper, ham hock, and onion, uncovered, until tender but not mushy — about 1 1/2 hours — or until 2 cups of liquid remain.
Add the rice to the pot, cover, and simmer over low heat for about 20 minutes, never lifting the lid.
Remove from the heat and allow to steam, still covered, for another 10 minutes. Remove the cover, fluff with a fork, and serve immediately with greens and cornbread.
Thursday, December 13, 2007
The Christmas Eve Open House
My mother has a Christmas Eve-afternoon tradition of inviting over thirty or forty of her friends. They show up when they feel like it and stay as long as they feel like staying, and it's really my favorite kind of party with some of my favorite people--really, my mother has just incredible friends. Mom always has homemade eggnog with bourbon and champagne, and my stepfather has an extraordinarily well-stocked liquor stash. They also sort of casually collect wine, and they have wonderful taste. People generally bring plates of cookies and Christmas candy and fruitcake, which Mom sets out, but the big attraction is the food.
My mother makes a few things really well, and her Christmas Eve Afternoon spread is her best of the best. Everything varies from year to year, but every year she makes these glazed meatballs that really are just plain frozen meatballs that are simmered in this mixture of chili sauce and apricot preserves and some other stuff, which, my God, I know how weird it sounds, but wow. My stepfather is a frat boy in a 71-year-old's body, and so she makes wings, only he can't take the spicy anymore, so she makes these tequila-lime wings, as well as honey-barbecue flavored. I'm not a fan of wings, but these are invariably the hit of the party.
I like dip, and so I am generally left in charge of dip at the party. Crudite with roquefort or dill dip, hot clam dip with bacon and scallions, and this artichoke-parmesan spread with roasted garlic on crostini--fabulous. That last thing is so rich it almost hurts to eat, so I pair it with tomato bruschetta with basil and a balsalmic reduction that complements it and cuts the richness a little. Chips and salsa, hummus and toasted pita. Last year I made queso fundido with chipotle and Mexican sausage. Spicy, and delicious. This year I'm thinking about a spinach dip with water chestnuts and bacon with pumpernickel bread.
Mom's cheese board varies from year to year. There's a brie or a camembert, something a little soft and runny, and some kind of goat cheese--last year I brought her a small-batch fresh cheese from West Virginia that I bought straight from the farmer. The farmer, incidentally, was so handsome that it hurt. Last year or the year before, she had a 4-year bandaged cheddar that isn't like anything else I've ever had in my life. The last few years, we've replaced the aged parmesan with a dry jack, which is really sharp and strong and powerful, and last year she got ahold of a Spanish manchego that was just incredible. Mom's a fan of stilton, but I like bleu d'auvergne or something a little less overpowering. She puts it all out with fruit and nuts and really yummy aged port.
There's always some yummy little nibbles--spicy honey-glazed pecans, marinated olives, shrimp or crab claws. Most people have a bigger meal planned later in the day when they come over, but this spread is enough to keep people pretty satisfied.
Mom's party is a great time, and the people make it. She's got really fascinating friends--scientists, writers, teachers, a retired judge, artists, musicians, all of these creative and smart and funny people, a few members of our extended family, the neighbors. The people are the party, and the food is peripheral. But the food is so good, I look forward to Christmas Eve all year long. I love it.
I am not going to start in with the recipes until January 1st. But if you're interested, shoot me an email or leave me a comment, and I can send a recipe for any of the stuff I've mentioned. Or leave me your ideas for your holiday celebrations and get-togethers.
My mother makes a few things really well, and her Christmas Eve Afternoon spread is her best of the best. Everything varies from year to year, but every year she makes these glazed meatballs that really are just plain frozen meatballs that are simmered in this mixture of chili sauce and apricot preserves and some other stuff, which, my God, I know how weird it sounds, but wow. My stepfather is a frat boy in a 71-year-old's body, and so she makes wings, only he can't take the spicy anymore, so she makes these tequila-lime wings, as well as honey-barbecue flavored. I'm not a fan of wings, but these are invariably the hit of the party.
I like dip, and so I am generally left in charge of dip at the party. Crudite with roquefort or dill dip, hot clam dip with bacon and scallions, and this artichoke-parmesan spread with roasted garlic on crostini--fabulous. That last thing is so rich it almost hurts to eat, so I pair it with tomato bruschetta with basil and a balsalmic reduction that complements it and cuts the richness a little. Chips and salsa, hummus and toasted pita. Last year I made queso fundido with chipotle and Mexican sausage. Spicy, and delicious. This year I'm thinking about a spinach dip with water chestnuts and bacon with pumpernickel bread.
Mom's cheese board varies from year to year. There's a brie or a camembert, something a little soft and runny, and some kind of goat cheese--last year I brought her a small-batch fresh cheese from West Virginia that I bought straight from the farmer. The farmer, incidentally, was so handsome that it hurt. Last year or the year before, she had a 4-year bandaged cheddar that isn't like anything else I've ever had in my life. The last few years, we've replaced the aged parmesan with a dry jack, which is really sharp and strong and powerful, and last year she got ahold of a Spanish manchego that was just incredible. Mom's a fan of stilton, but I like bleu d'auvergne or something a little less overpowering. She puts it all out with fruit and nuts and really yummy aged port.
There's always some yummy little nibbles--spicy honey-glazed pecans, marinated olives, shrimp or crab claws. Most people have a bigger meal planned later in the day when they come over, but this spread is enough to keep people pretty satisfied.
Mom's party is a great time, and the people make it. She's got really fascinating friends--scientists, writers, teachers, a retired judge, artists, musicians, all of these creative and smart and funny people, a few members of our extended family, the neighbors. The people are the party, and the food is peripheral. But the food is so good, I look forward to Christmas Eve all year long. I love it.
I am not going to start in with the recipes until January 1st. But if you're interested, shoot me an email or leave me a comment, and I can send a recipe for any of the stuff I've mentioned. Or leave me your ideas for your holiday celebrations and get-togethers.
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