Food & Love

Cafe Cubano

2011-01-04T08:00:00.001-05:00

So, perhaps obviously, I am not Cuban. But I grew up in South Florida and my fondest food memory there is grabbing a Café Cubano from la ventana at Cuban restaurants around Miami. Whenever I am home, I make a point to enjoy at least one, preferably after a medianoche sandwich.

Café Cubano, also known as Cuban espresso, Cuban coffee, or cafecito, is an espresso drink prepared in Cuba and among the Cuban-American community in which an espresso shot is sweetened with sugar during or immediately after brewing and prior to serving. It is sweet, but balanced, even for those of us who take our coffee without sugar, and an excellent bookend to a meal.

In restaurants, Café Cubano is made using an espresso machine, but the traditional way—and the way it is still made in homes—is with the Italian stovetop espresso maker called a Moka pot or macchinetta, with the iconic Bialetti model remaining the most popular. My recipe utilizes a Moka pot, but you can easily adapt it to an espresso machine.

Moka Pot on the Stove

Traditionally, Café Cubano is made with Pilon or Bustelo espresso; the former is popular in restaurants and the latter in homes. I love Bustelo Supreme, although go ahead and use your favorite espresso.

There are several variants to this recipe, and everyone seems to do it slightly different. I have seen the sugar added to the ground espresso during brewing or directly into the demitasse cup. But the best method whips just a little bit of the brewed espresso with the sugar, maximizing the espumita, the beautiful froth on top of a perfect Cuban coffee. As Moka pots don't generate tons of crema, this is doubly useful for such preparations.

Makes 1 Café Cubano. Easily doubled.

Ingredients:

sufficient ground espresso beans, per your device's directions
sufficient filtered or spring water, per your device's directions
1 tablespoon turbinado sugar

Following your Moka pot's instructions, brew one shot of espresso. (Hint: When using a Moka pot, take it off the heat a few seconds after it starts steaming. It will finish steaming without additional heat, and you won't boil the coffee.)

Add the turbinado sugar to a metal milk frothing pitcher. Pour one teaspoon of brewed espresso into the milk pitcher. Using a small whisk, violently beat the sugar and espresso until fully combined into a thick, brown foam. Gently pour the remaining espresso into the milk pitcher. Pour the pitcher into a demitasse glass. The brown foam—the espumita—should end up on the top of the glass. Enjoy.

Variant: Una colada is a pitcher of Cuban coffee, generally four to six shots, suitable for sharing. To make, multiply the recipe accordingly, using a sufficiently large milk pitcher. If you lose the espumita, beat the pitcher's contents with a whisk or fork as needed.

Gougères

2010-12-24T15:40:00.001-05:00

This recipe yields enough for one baking sheet. The dough is so easy to make, and the puffs are so addictively-good, you will want to make two or three batches at once.

Gougères

Makes about two dozen bite-sized cheese puffs.

Ingredients:

1/2 cup filtered or spring water
3 tablespoons unsalted butter, cubed
1/4 teaspoon sea salt
1/4 teaspoon piment d'Espelette, substitute ground cayenne pepper
1/2 cup all-purpose flour
2 large eggs
3/4 cup grated comté, substitute gruyère or sharp cheddar
1/4 cup grated Parmigiano-Reggiano

Preheat the oven to 400°F. Line a baking sheet with a Silpat or parchment paper. Combine the comté and Parmigiano-Reggiano in a single bowl.

In a medium-sized saucepan, bring the water to a boil. Add the unsalted butter, sea salt, and piment d'Espelette. Stir until the butter is melted and the salt is dissolved.

Dump in all of the all-purpose flour. Stir vigorously over medium heat until the dough forms a single, smooth ball that no longer sticks to the sides of the pan. Remove from heat and let cool for 90 seconds.

Add the eggs, one at a time, stirring quickly to prevent them from scrambling. Do not add the next egg until the previous is fully incorporated. Keep stirring until the dough is no longer lumpy and forms a smooth, proper pâte à choux.

Fold in about 3/4 of the combined cheese.

Using a pastry bag with a plain tip (or a freezer bag with a corner snipped off), pipe into swirled mounds about the size of a large glass eye, evenly spaced about 1" apart. Top with the remaining cheese.

Bake 10 minutes. Rotate the pan. Bake another 8 minutes. Remove, pierce the side of each mound with a sharp paring knife, and bake another 4 minutes until just golden brown. Remove. Ideally, serve and eat immediately, while piping hot.

Mobile Version of This Blog

2010-12-17T12:58:00.001-05:00

Hitting up Food & Love on an Android or iPhone-based device will now render a sleek, mobile-enhanced version of the blog.

Helpful for the upcoming holiday cooking! Enjoy!

The Many Names of Fish

2010-08-10T07:30:00.010-04:00

Most food goes by various names. For example, the domestic pigeon is known scientifically as Columba livia. In the US, we call its meat squab, while the French call it pigeonneau and the Spanish pichón. But that all seems pretty comprehensible compared to fish. Some fish are known by literally dozens of names, with their foreign translations bearing no resemblance to or sharing no root with one another. Worse, a single name might refer to dozens of specifies (and even different families) of fish!

This article attempts to document the various names for common culinary fish. I start by giving the common (or at least my preferred) name for the fish, followed by its scientific name, and then a catalogue of the various names and confusions surrounding the animal. With luck, we will all be better consumers of this most delicious food.

In the realm of confusingly-named fish, the worst offender is the European sea bass (Dicentrarchus labrax). This fish is known as loup de mer (or simply loup), from the French word for wolf, as the fish is a carnivore. Along the Mediterranean, loup is the fish's most common name. But along France's Atlantic coast, the fish is called bar. Both regions claim that their variant is superior, although the two fish are in fact the same species. In the US, we also call this fish bronzini, from the Italian branzini. In Southern Italy, however, they call the fish spigola or ragno. In Spain, they call it lubina or róbalo. Other names include sea dace, loubine (French for a small loup), Mediterranean seabass, and simply sea bass, although more and more that final term is reserved for Chilean sea bass.

Chilean sea bass (Dissostichus eleginoides) is in fact not related to the sea bass at all, but is a marketer's name for the Patagonian toothfish. The fish is sold as merluza negra in Spain (confusingly, black hake) and mero in Japan. The fish is listed by SeafoodWatch as a fish that conscientious eaters should avoid, but I find it delicious. On menus in the US, sea bass is generally Patagonian toothfish.

Black sea bass (Centropristis striata) is in fact a species of grouper.

Striped bass (Morone saxatilis) is yet another species of fish called bass. It is also known as Atlantic striped bass and rockfish.

Conversely, Asian sea bass (Lates calcarifer), of yet another family of fish, is called Barramundi.

To compound the confusion, in non-culinary uses in the US, the term bass is most often describing the freshwater gamefish, not the marine fish. Popular game variants of freshwater bass include the largemouth and smallmouth bass. Although edible, they are not caught for their flesh and are generally released.

Many varieties of fish go by the name tuna (various species in the genus Thunnus). They are generally labeled tuna, although some preparations, such as tuna belly (toro) and fatty belly (otoro) go solely by those names when prepared as sushi. Common varieties of tuna include albacore (the stuff in cans), bluefin (in both giant and pacific variants), skipjack (also called aku), and yellowfin (also called ahi).

Cod (Gadidae gadus), that ubiquitous yet delicious white fish, usually keeps to one name. A rare exception is scrod, which refers to a young cod of approximately less than three pounds—generally small enough that its fillets fit in a single pan. (Sometimes scrod refers to any small white fish, such as a small haddock, but such usage is generally regarded as erroneous.)

While cod is usually called cod, there are other cods that are not cod: black cod, blue cod, rock cod, and trout cod are all not members of the Gadidae family.

Once dried and salted, cod's easy naming goes out the window. In the US we generally shorten it to salt cod, but as the food staple integral to Western Europe's expansion, dried and salted cod has many common names, including bacalao, baccalà, klippfisk, morue, and saltfish. Cod that is dried but not salted is called stockfish.

Salmon (several species in the family Salmonidae), perhaps surprisingly, goes by simply salmon, at least in the US. There are, however, several species of salmon, and often the fish goes by those names: Atlantic (also known as black), chinook (blackmouth or king), pink (humpies), and sockeye (red).

Convenient naming goes out the window as soon as salmon is cured. Gravlax or gravad lax is salmon cured in salt flavored with dill. Lox, common adorning bagels in Ashkenazic Jewish cuisine, is salmon that is brined in sugar and salt. Nova Scotia salmon, Nova, or Nova lox is cured in a milder brine and then cold-smoked. Scotch or Scottish salmon is cured with a more aggressive spice rub and then cold-smoked. Salmon smoked without an initial cure is conveniently called simply smoked salmon, although often such a preparation is listed as just salmon. Serving smoked salmon without labeling it as smoked should be a crime.

Yellowtail (Seriola quinqueradiata) is also known as Japanese amberjack. When prepared as sushi, it is called hamachi.

Mahi-mahi (Coryphaena hippurus) is a fish whose popularity I have never understood. It is also known as dolphin (the fish not the mammal) and dorado.

Monkfish (several species in the genus Lophius) is as delicious as it is ugly, with firm, meaty, almost lobster-like flesh. It is also known as goosefish, headfish, and, after the Spanish name, rape. The French sometimes call it gigot de mer, or sea leg, because they are making some ridiculous connection to the leg of a lamb. At the market you will often see monkfish sold as monkfish tail—this is in fact the entire fish, beheaded, as the head is hideous.

Atlantic pollack (Pollachius pollachius), the white fish that tastes more like an oily fish, is also spelled pollock. We most commonly eat one of two varieties: Black pollack and Yellow pollack (also called colin). The French call this fish lieu jaune.

Alaskan pollack (Theragra chalcogramma) is also known as walleye pollock. It is of a different family entirely than the Atlantic variety, although the meat is similar in taste, albeit milder. Alaskan pollack is the most common fish used to make imitation crab, which is also called crab stick or krab.

Haddock (Melanogrammus aeglefinus) is also known as offshore hake. The French call it aigrefin. When fried, this fish is sometimes misrepresented as cod or vice versa.

Sea bream (many species in the family Sparidae) are also known as porgies and simply breams. The three most delectable species are the royal, rose (or blackspot), and gray (or black) sea bream. In the US, we call these three species dorade (not to be confused with dorado). The French, to annoy the rest of the world, call the latter two by that same word, but reserve the pompous spelling daurade for the first, the daurade royale.

The most excellent sole generally goes by that correct name, both in fish markets and restaurants. There are, however, several varieties of sole, including the lemon sole, which is of a different (and inferior) variety to the heralded Atlantic sole. Dover sole (Solea solea), also known as common sole, is a specific variety of Atlantic sole and the best. Unfortunately, the lesser (although good) Pacific sole (Microstomus pacificus) is often mislabeled Dover sole on the US's west coast. Sole meunière is a dish, of sole pan-fried in butter, not a variety of the fish (the dish is ideally made with dover sole).

Red snapper (Lutjanus campechanus) is a delicious, mild white fish endemic to the Gulf of Mexico, the Southern Atlantic, and the Caribbean Sea. Fortunately, the fish is generally correctly labeled as red snapper. Unfortunately, many other fish are incorrectly labeled the same, including both related fish in the same family and unrelated fish such as Sebastes miniatus and Sebastes ruberrimus.

Hake (Gadiformes merlucciidae) is generally correctly referred to as hake, although that term unfortunately can also refer to a related but distinct fish in the Phycinae subfamily of Gadiformes gadidae. Hake are sometimes referred to by their Spanish name, merluza. Similar to cod, they are an excellent white fish, particularly the Mediterranean varieties prized in Spain.

Halibut (Hippoglossus hippoglossus and stenolepis) is always correctly labeled as halibut. Unfortunately, several other fish are occasionally incorrectly labeled the same: the California flounder (Paralichthys californicus) as California halibut and the olive flounder (Paralichthys olivaceus) as Bastard halibut.

John Dory (Zeus faber), an excellent fish, is also known as Saint Pierre, after Saint Peter.

Turbot (Psetta maxima) is perhaps the greatest fish. Thankfully almost always called turbot in the US, it is unfortunately mispronounced: TUR-bət not TUR-bo.

Trout, an oily freshwater and marine fish eaten less and less as pollution infects the world's rivers and lakes, is generally correctly labeled as trout. Unfortunately, there are many fish recognized as trout, spanning three genus: Oncorhynchus, Salmo, and Salvelinus. As the taste of these fish vary greatly—both a function of the genus and the diet of the fish—the term trout is a poor indicator of what you are about to eat. Trust the chef or order something else.

Pike (Esocidae esox) is a freshwater fish native to both North America and Europe. It is also known as esox and pike-fish. Confusingly, the term pickerel is used to refer to both young pike and several species of Esocidae that are smaller than the standard pike. In game, the two terms are interchangeable; on a menu the term pickerel generally refers to the smaller species. The fish pikeminnow (also known as squawfish) is unrelated.

…and, unfortunately, many more.

What am I missing? I wager there isn't a fish not known by a multitude of names, so please share your naming confusions. Most notably, freshwater and game fish often have dozens of names, due to regional naming differences and confusions over species. One of our few remaining wild foods, fish do not come with barcodes. They are caught, sold, and eaten in such large numbers that we are often not eating what we think we are. I'm fine with that, but I do wish we could pare back the plethora of names so I am at least ordering what I think I am, even if I am not receiving what I order.

Gazpacho

2010-06-22T08:00:00.010-04:00

I love the cold Spanish tomato soup gazpacho in the summer, when the city is hot and tomatoes are gorgeous, in season, and local. I don't have a recipe, just a pattern: lots of whatever tomatoes look best, preferably a mix of various colors and heirloom varietals, a little bit of cucumber, some peppers, a spot of Sherry vinegar, and a lot of top-quality Spanish olive oil. What follows is merely a suggestion, to help you get your proportions right.

Gazpacho

You absolutely want to make this in a blender, which will give you a beautiful, smooth consistency and a perfect emulsion as you drizzle in the olive oil. I'm not a fan of gazpachos made by hand, particularly if you aren't going to peel, core, and seed your tomatoes. It is like eating a weird, chilled salsa. If you don't have a full blender, an immersion blender or food processor ought to work in a pinch, but it won't be the same.

Don't make this recipe ahead of time—despite conventional wisdom. While the flavors will meld, you will also lose some of the raw vegetal taste that is the hallmark of the soup, and the acid in the tomatoes will pickle everything else.

I like to brunoise some peppers and peel some cucumber to make a garnish, which I arrange in the soup bowl and then pour the gazpacho over. The presentation is gorgeous, and the vegetables give some crunch. I don't include that in the recipe below; use whatever looks best.

Makes 4 servings.

Ingredients:

2 pounds ripe tomatoes, assorted shape and color, a mix of heirloom varietals preferred but plum fine
3/4 pound cucumber (about 3/4 a large cucumber), peeled
1/2 red bell pepper
3 green jalapeños, seeded
1 clove garlic, germ removed
about 1/4 cup filtered or spring water
3/4 cup top-quality Spanish olive oil
about 2 tablespoons Sherry vinegar
sea salt, to taste

Roughly chop the tomatoes, cucumber, red bell pepper, green jalapeños, and garlic and place in a blender. Run the blender on high, until fully and smoothly puréed. Push the ingredients down with a spoon or add a little bit of water if needed to help the solids purée. Once fully blended, add a little more water as needed to adjust consistency. You want the soup just slightly runny at this point, as it will thicken up considerably once you add the olive oil.

Return the blender to high and slowly drizzle in the olive oil. Continue blending until the contents are fully emulsified. If not thick enough, add a little more olive oil, but taste the soup first to ensure the olive oil isn't already overpowering.

Add the sherry vinegar and several pinches of sea salt. Blend on high again until fully combined. Taste and adjust vinegar and sea salt as needed.

You may refrigerate up to 30 minutes to chill, but no longer—the soup is best fresh. Serve in chilled soup bowls or glasses, garnished as you wish. Pairs well with a chilled fino Sherry or a Rosé (rosado) wine from the Rioja DOC, Spain.

Halibut Ceviche with Jalapeño, Cilantro, Olive Oil

2010-06-15T08:00:00.001-04:00

As I wrote in my Thai-Style Bay Scallop Ceviche recipe, ceviche (also cebiche and seviche) is a Peruvian dish of citrus-marinated seafood. The citrus imparts wonderful flavor, but it also pickles the fish, denaturing the proteins, giving the flesh a uniform whiteness, and allowing us to serve the fish otherwise raw.

Many fish and shellfish are traditionally prepared in ceviche, including corvina, red snapper, toothfish, halibut, mahi-mahi, and scallops. We use halibut in this recipe, but any fresh, white, not-too-oily sea fish is a candidate. With the exception of a little swig of olive oil at the end—which makes a wonderful difference—this is a simple, traditional recipe. Consider it more of a "how to" guide to ceviche and use it as a base.

The citrus will cure the fish in as little as five to ten minutes, but I like the imparted flavor (and piece of mind) from about a 30 minute cure. Do experiment!

Halibut Ceviche with Jalapeño, Cilantro, Olive Oil

Note: While the ceviche process denatures the proteins with acid, the fish is nonetheless not brought to temperature. Consuming raw seafood may increase your susceptibility to illness.

Makes 4 servings or 8 smaller sides.

Ingredients:

about 2 pounds halibut fillet
1 medium red onion, thinly sliced
2 cups freshly-squeezed lime juice
3 tablespoons brunoise green jalapeño
3 tablespoons red bell pepper
1 tablespoon plus 1/4 cup hand-torn cilantro
4 tablespoons of your favorite grassy olive oil
large or flakey finishing sea salt, to garnish

Prepare the fish: Skin and bone. Remove any darker pieces of flesh, particularly anything along the blood line. Pat the remaining flesh dry. Cut into thin slices not unlike sashimi servings.

Combine the halibut, red onion, and lime juice in a medium-sized mixing bowl. Gently stir to coat. Cover and place in refrigerator for 30 minutes, gently stirring halfway through.

Remove from the refrigerator. Gently strain the fish and onions through a mesh strainer. Transfer the fish to a clean mixing bowl.

Add the jalapeño, red pepper, and 1 tablespoon of cilantro. Gently stir to combine.

Plated, garnished, and ready to serve

Divide among plates. Top each serving with a glug or two of olive oil. Garnish with a large or flakey finishing sea salt, such as Bali Pyramid Salt. Garnish with the remaining cilantro. Serve. Pairs well with a Spanish white wine of the Albariño grape.

Green Peas with Feta, Mint, Red Onion

2010-06-08T08:00:00.001-04:00

There are a few vegetables that are almost assuredly as good or better frozen than what you can get fresh. Green peas are at the top of any such list. The moment they are picked, the enzymatic reaction begins that converts sugar to starch and sweet pea to simply tasty legume. Time and heat are enemies of the green pea. Use as soon after purchase as possible, and refrigerate in the interim.

Frozen peas allow us to enjoy sweet, tender peas year round. Seek out a high quality brand that flash freezes the peas immediately after harvesting, with no residual water, salt, or other additives. Given that this recipe is best with sweet peas and is served cold, frozen peas are a great choice. Of course, if you have access to farm fresh green peas, go for it. You'll likely want to blanche, shock, and chill them, if so. If using frozen peas, just defrost and drain.

For this recipe, you'll want to whip out the real deal: traditional feta from Greece. Now a protected designation of origin (PDO), real Greek feta is made with sheep's milk and a small (<30%) amount of goat's milk. The result is mild and creamy, but with a pronounced tang and salty finish. Buy your feta in large blocks along with enough brine to keep it moist—feta dries out quickly once removed from the brine. To use, remove from the brine but don't pat dry and crumble into large but edible pieces with a fork.

This dish is one of Marlena's favorites, and a dinner staple during these warmer months. It makes a great first course, yielding 6 servings, although we often enjoy it as a main course, where it provides 3 servings. An old-world Sauvignon blanc, such as a white wine from Sancerre, is an excellent pairing.

Green Peas with Feta, Mint, Red Onion

Makes 6 smaller servings.

Ingredients:

2 pounds frozen green peas
(about 6 cups thawed green peas or 2 bags frozen green peas), thawed and drained well
1 large red onion, diced about the size of a green pea
3/4 bunch mint, stemmed and hand torn
1/3 cup your favorite grassy olive oil
2 teaspoons good red wine vinegar, such as Banyuls
2 teaspoons verjus (verjuice)
1/2 pound traditional feta, crumbled into cubes
sea salt, to taste

In a large mixing bowl, combine the green peas, red onion, and mint.

In a small mixing bowl or cup, combine the olive oil, verjus, and red wine vinegar. Whisk until emulsified. Pour around the edges of the bowl with the peas, gently folding the ingredients together and evenly distributing the vinaigrette. Let rest at room temperature for 30 minutes.

Add the feta to the mixing bowl. Gently fold together. Lightly season with sea salt—note the feta is salty, the peas are delicate, and if you oversalt you will extract a lot of moisture.

Plated and ready to serve

Serve. Pairs well with a white wine of the Sauvignon blanc grape from the Sancerre AOC, Loire Valley, France.

Aperol Pompelmo

2010-06-01T08:00:00.000-04:00

The weather is warming up, perfect for a refreshing apéritif, my Aperol Pompelmo!

The pairing of Aperol and grapefruit (pompelmo in Italian) is hardly novel, but I could not find any definitive recipes, let alone a name. But Aperol and grapefruit juice, perhaps with a bit of sparkling water, is such a wonderfully refreshing drink it deserves a recipe, a name.

Aperol Pompelmo

Aperol is an Italian apéritif. Often compared to Campari, both derive from pre-war formulas but are today manufactured by the same Italian beverage conglomerate, Gruppo Campari. Like Campari, Aperol is made from an infusion of citrus peel, flowers, and alimentary herbs, and has a moderately bitter, invigorating taste. But in contrast to Campari, Aperol is less bitter, less alcoholic (11 versus 25%), more floral. You might call it a beginner's apéritif, although I find plenty of uses for both.

Apéritif refers both to any preprandial drink and a specific category of drinks best suited for arousing the appetite and preparing the palate, without getting one drunk or full. A Campari & soda is a light, refreshing start to a meal, while the common choices of a martini or a beer while waiting at the bar are more likely to get you drunk or full, respectively, than prepare you for a great meal.

For this drink, use whatever grapefruit is your favorite, whatever looks best at the market. Here, I prefer grapefruit closer to tart on the tart-sweet scale—none of that sweet ruby red crap. And an oily, aromatic peel (you can smell them from a foot away at the market) is key for the garnish.

Makes 1 drink.

Ingredients:

1.5 ounces (1 jigger shot) freshly-squeezed grapefruit juice
1 ounce (1 pony shot) Aperol
2 drops Fee Brothers' Grapefruit Bitters
1 ounce (1 pony shot) sparkling water
1 large grapefruit peel

Fill half of a Boston shaker with large ice cubes. Combine the grapefruit juice, Aperol, and grapefruit bitters. Stir rapidly for 15 seconds and then let sit until the outside of the shaker starts to sweat.

Fill an old fashioned glass (a lowball) with large ice cubes. Simultaneously pour in the stirred liquids and the sparkling water. Garnish with a grapefruit peel. Enjoy.

Soup of Asparagus, Leek, and Jalapeño

2010-05-25T08:00:00.005-04:00

This is a simple, light soup of puréed asparagus, accented by leek and jalapeño. The only other notable flavor is olive oil—your favorite, grassy variety. Beyond sea salt, I don't even season the soup. It is delicious to the point of addiction, yet light enough you can go dancing afterward.

Soup of Asparagus, Leek, and Jalapeño

Couple ingredient notes: I call for chicken stock, which really ought to be housemade, either in your home or from a local market. It truly matters here, because we don't add any cream or seasoning. If you don't have homemade stock, prefer filtered or spring water to anything in a can or carton. Whatever you use, I presume it is unsalted, and request you aggressively salt the ingredients as we saute them.

I call for two and a half pounds of asparagus, or roughly two large bundles from your market. This might seem like more than is necessary, but it works. I do request you trim and discard the woodsy bottoms rather aggressively, although you needn't peel anything that remains.

Makes 4-6 first course servings or 2-3 full meals.

Ingredients:

4 tablespoons plus 4 tablespoons your favorite grassy olive oil
2 cups halved and thinly-sliced leeks (about 3 medium or 6 small), white part only
3 jalapeño peppers, seeded and sliced
2.5 pounds of asparagus, ends aggressively trimmed, cut into 1" slices, tops reserved
5 cups chicken stock, homemade if possible
2 tablespoons verjus (verjuice), substitute 2 teaspoons good white wine vinegar
sea salt, to taste

Heat a large saucepan over medium heat. Once hot, add 4 tablespoons olive oil. Add the leeks and jalapeño peppers. Season well with sea salt. Saute until soft, translucent, and beginning to color, but not brown, about 5 minutes.

Add the asparagus slices, reserving the tops. Season with more salt. Saute, stirring, until the asparagus turns bright green, 1-2 minutes.

Add the chicken stock. Raise heat to high and bring to a boil. Boil until the asparagus is tender, about 4 minutes.

Meanwhile, bring a stockpot of water to boil. Salt aggressively. Add the reserved asparagus tops and blanche until bright green and just edible, only about 30 seconds. Drain.

Blend until a light, smooth, puréed soup

Remove from heat. Let cool slightly and transfer to a blender, working in batches if needed. Blend first on low, then on high, until fully puréed and uniform. Add the verjus. While continuing to blend, slowly drizzle in the olive oil. Taste and adjust sea salt.

Return to the warm pot, but do not return to the heat. Add the asparagus tips. Gently stir.

Ladle into serving bowls, ungarnished. Pairs as well as anything with a white wine of the Sauvignon Blanc grape from the Touraine Azay-le-Rideau AOC in Indre-et-Loire, France.

Note: If you want a more decadent soup, replace the second 4 tablespoons of olive oil with 4-5 tablespoons of cold, unsalted butter. Slowly emulsify that into the blending soup for a wonderful treat.

Spring is Sprung: Porcini and Ramps

2010-04-20T08:00:00.003-04:00

Spring is here, and beautiful asparagus, fava beans, ramps, and fiddlehead ferns are arriving at the market. I'm even seeing some early peeks at green peas. But the happiest surprise was fresh porcini, which I so seldom have the opportunity with which to cook.

Fresh Porcini and Ramps

I bought the porcini without a plan. We were in the mood for pasta, so I rendered some guanciale and sauteed the porcini and ramp stalks. I tossed that with linguine, the ramp greens, the crispy guanciale lardons, and ricotta salada. Garnished with chive and served with a wine of the Grenache grape from the Priorat DOC in Catalonia, Spain.

Linguine, Ramps, Porcini, Guanciale, Ricotta Salata

Although the produce doesn't really start flowing until the summer, I love spring for its cap to winter doldrums, its fresh, green surprises. What are your favorite spring vegetables? And, if not spring, what is your favorite season, culinarily speaking?

Rigatoni all’Amatriciana Bianca

2010-04-13T08:00:00.001-04:00

There is no agreement on the proper composition of pasta all’Amatriciana. To my palate, some of the ingredients are beyond debate—of course I want garlic, of course I want onion. But tomato—as featured in my bucatini all’Amatriciana rossa recipe—is far from a given. Instead of a red sauce, this recipe prepares the dish bianca, making a condimento from the rendered guanciale mixed with pecorino-romano and parsley.

Rigatoni all’Amatriciana Bianca

Some might call this recipe pasta alla gricia, but that dish historically added sausage to the guanciale. Whatever the name, this is the old world style, as the pasta might appear before the introduction of tomatoes to Italy in the 18th century.

Guanciale

Makes four servings.

Ingredients:

1 teaspoon grape seed oil
1 lb guanciale, batoned into lardons
1 large red onion, halved and sliced thin
6 cloves garlic, pealed and sliced thin
1 tablespoon red pepper flakes
1 pound rigatoni
1/2 cup fresh parsley, chopped, plus more to garnish
1/3 cup pecorino-romano, plus more to garnish
sea salt, to taste
freshly-ground black pepper, to taste

Bring a large pot of heavily-salted water to boil. Add the rigatoni to the pot and cook until a minute before al dente. Drain, reserving 1/2 cup of the cooking liquid.

While cooking the pasta, heat a large saute pan over medium-high heat. Add the grape seed oil. Once hot, add the guanciale and cook until golden brown, about 8 minutes. Reserve the guanciale to a paper towel-lined plate.

Lower heat to medium. Add the onion, garlic, and red pepper flakes. Season with salt and pepper. Saute until the onion is translucent and just starting to turn color, about 5 minutes.

Remove all but 1/4 cup of rendered fat. Return the guanciale to the pan. Add the rigatoni and 1/4 cup of the reserved cooking liquid to the saute pan. Stirring, cook for 60 seconds.

Folding in the pecorino-romano and the parsley

Remove from heat. Add the pecorino-romano and parsley to the pan. Fold in. Taste and adjust seasonings. Add more of the cooking liquid if the cheese is not sticking to the pasta.

Plated, garnished, and ready to serve

Plate into warm bowls, garnished with more pecorino-romano and parsley. Serve immediately. Pairs well with a Chilean Carmenère.

Mushrooms and Tofu en Brodo

2010-04-06T08:00:00.004-04:00

Last night's dinner. Often the best dishes are inspired by what is fresh at the market. In this case, pounds of beautiful, earthy mushrooms:

Mushrooms and Tofu en Brodo

Hen of the wood, shiitake, chanterelle, and hedgehog mushrooms sautéed in garlic-infused olive oil; thyme; shallot; homemade tofu; homemade veal stock; garnish of scallion.

Thai Ginger Margarita

2010-03-30T10:00:00.001-04:00

This is a refreshing, bright drink. The clean, citric notes of ginger-lime syrup combine with the spice and bite of thai pepper infused tequila.

See also my habanero-infused tequila and my ginger mojito.

Thai Ginger Margarita

I despise salted rims, but if they are your cup of tea, a little ground ginger in the salt is a neat trick.

Makes 1 drink.

Ingredients:

2 ounces (2 pony shots) thai pepper infused tequila (recipe)
1/2 ounce (1/2 pony shot) freshly-squeezed lime juice
5 teaspoons ginger lime syrup (recipe)
1 lime wedge, for garnish

In a cocktail shaker, combine the infused tequila, lime juice, ginger lime syrup, and several large ice cubes. Shake vigorously and then let sit until the outside of the shaker begins to sweat.

Add several large ice cubes to a rocks glass (lowball) and strain in the contents of the shaker. Garnish with the lime wedge. Enjoy

Thai Pepper Infused Tequila

2010-03-30T07:30:00.002-04:00

This recipe prepares an infused tequila of thai bird's eye chili peppers. Unlike my habanero infused tequila, here we use dried peppers. Compared to that recipe, this infusion results in a sharper, spicier tequila, tinted red by the dried peppers.

Thai Pepper Infused Tequila

Makes 750ml.

Ingredients:

750 milliliters 100% blue agave blanco tequila, such as Partida Blanco or Patrón Silver
8 dried red thai bird's eye chili peppers

Cut or rip open height-wise the thai chile peppers. Remove all of the seeds.

Dried Thai Bird's Eye Chili Peppers

We will perform the infusion in the tequila's own bottle. If needed, pour out enough of the tequila to make room for the chile peppers. Add the chili peppers. Seal the bottle. Store in a cool, dark place for 3 days, gently shaking the bottle once per day.

At the end of the third day, strain the tequila through double layers of cheese cloth into a second container. Clean and dry the tequila bottle. Return the infused tequila to the original bottle. Will keep in a cool, dark place indefinitely.

Roasted Cauliflower with Pistachios and Thyme

2010-03-23T08:00:00.045-04:00

Both Marlena & I love roasted cauliflower. I feature it in everything from soups to gratins to pastas, but my favorite preparation is straight out of the oven and into my mouth. Roasted cauliflower pairs particularly well with olive oil and thyme, and this recipe adds pistachios for an additional flavor and crunch, but roasted until brown, cauliflower needs no accompaniment.

Roasted Cauliflower with Pistachios and Thyme

Makes 4 servings.

Ingredients:

3/4 cup shelled pistachios
2 small to medium-sized heads of cauliflower, cut into large but bite-sized florets
2 tablespoons olive oil
2 tablespoons stemmed thyme
sea salt, to taste
white pepper, to taste

Preheat oven to 350°F.

Arrange the pistachios on a baking sheet. Bake until toasted and fragrant but not burnt, about 6-7 minutes.

Raise oven temperature to 450°F.

While the pistachios are toasting, toss the cauliflower, olive oil, and thyme in a large mixing bowl. Season to taste with white pepper and sea salt. Arrange in a single layer in a baking or casserole dish.

Place in oven and bake 30-35 minutes until brown and starting to char on the edges. (I find it hard to overcook cauliflower, particularly if not cut too small. It just gets better and better, developing great caramelization.) Halfway through cooking, remove from oven and gently stir (or, even better, flip over each floret). Return to oven, rotating the pan.

Remove from oven. Sprinkle with toasted pistachios. Optionally, add 2 tablespoons of your favorite, grassy olive oil. Serve immediately. Pairs well with a white wine of the Albariño grape from the Rías Baixas DO in Galicia, Spain.

Seared Foie Gras

2010-03-18T08:00:00.001-04:00

The perfect foie gras preparation is au torchon. A close runner up—and a much simpler method—is searing.

The following recipe prepares an entire foie gras. Pictured here is foie gras with a reduction of black and boysenberry, accompanied by fresh blackberries, but you should serve it however you like. A sweet dark berry or fig sauce is classic, but the seared slices are decadent all on their own.

Seared Foie Gras

Makes 6 servings.

Ingredients:

one 1.25 pound foie gras, grade A (although grade B is fine)
sea salt, to taste

Prep the foie gras: While still chilled, remove any visible white fat, veins, and green bile specks from the outside of the liver. On the underside of the liver, between the major and minor lobe, locate the main vein with your finger. Using a paring knife, cut out and discard the vein. It is okay if you make a bit of a mess. If any large pieces of liver become dislodged, simply press and mold them back into the lobe.

Cut the foie gras: Once prepped but still chilled, using a large chef's knife dipped into hot water, cut the foie gras width-wise (through both lobes) into 3/4" slices. Use the full length of the knife, exerting as little pressure as possible. Dip the knife into the hot water in between each cut.

Place a nonstick sauté pan over medium-high. Place the foie gras in the sauté pan, before the pan is hot. Gently cook as the pan becomes hot. Once the foie gras is just golden brown, about 45-60 seconds, turn it over. Salt the cooked side. Sear the other side until the middle is just soft, only about 30 seconds. Reserve to paper towel-covered plate, salting the other side.

Plate as desired, allowing several slices per serving. Pairs perfectly with Sauternes.

Low Temperature Cooking Charts

2010-02-03T10:30:00.039-05:00

Cooking Issues, the French Culinary Institute's technical blog, posts an intriguing early look at their soon-to-be-released low temperature cooking charts. They look gorgeous; indispensable for those who cook sous vide.

Cooking my braised short ribs sous vide? The chart recommends 134.6°F (57°C) for 56 hours. You'd want to seal the dealcoholized red wine, the aromatics, and perhaps a small pat of butter in the bag on high. Set your water bath to 134.6°F and walk away. Fifty-six hours later, the result is nothing short of amazing: Meat with the beefy goodness of short ribs and the meltingly-tender texture of a long braised—yet cooked à point, perfectly medium rare.

I will happily buy a full-sized, laminated set.

Mushroom Ragoût with Polenta

2010-01-12T09:00:00.003-05:00

This ragoût makes for a great contorno. The polenta is also a perfect bed for a braised meat, such as short ribs. But, if you love mushrooms as I do, this recipe is also a great, lighter meal all on its own.

This is the simplest of ragoûts, a minimal preparation for good, fresh mushrooms. For a more involved approach, see my mushroom ragù or spring mushroom ragù recipes, which I use in my for pappardelle, mushroom ragù, cebollitas, truffle oil and strozzapreti, spring mushroom ragù, ricotta dishes, respectively. Or, for my favorite mushroom ragù, see my recipe for scallion polenta, mushroom ragù, poached egg.

Mushroom Ragoût with Polenta

Makes 4 servings.

Ingredients:

1 tablespoon olive oil
2 tablespoons unsalted butter
1/2 pound shiitake mushrooms, stemmed and sliced large
1/2 pound crimini mushroom, stemmed and sliced large
2 teaspoons thyme leaves
1 cup dry white wine
1 cup chicken stock
1 batch traditional polenta (recipe)
4 teaspoons white truffle oil
4 sprigs thyme, to garnish
gray salt, to taste
freshly-ground black pepper, to taste

Heat a large saute pan over medium-high heat. Add the olive oil and butter. Once the oil is hot and the butter is bubbling, add the shiitake and crimini mushrooms. Season with black pepper. Cook until they loose their liquid, deflate, and start to brown, about 8 minutes.

Add the thyme. Stir to incorporate.

Reducing down the liquid

Add the white wine and, scrapping the bottom of the pan, deglaze. Add the chicken stock. Bring to a boil. Once boiling, lower heat to a heavy simmer. Cook until the mushrooms are tender and the liquid is completely reduced, about 10 minutes. Taste and adjust salt and pepper.

Plated, garnished, and ready to serve

Spoon the polenta into warm bowls. Top with the mushroom ragoût. Drizzle with white truffle oil. Garnish with a sprig of fresh thyme—more than just a visual garnish, the aromatics are wonderful. Pairs perfectly with a Barolo red wine (Nebbiolo grape) from in and around the village of Barolo, Cuneo province, Piedmont region, in northeastern Italy.

Catalan Tomato Toast: Pan con Tomate

2010-01-05T09:00:00.003-05:00

Pan con tomate, bread with tomato, is a popular Catalonian dish. In Spanish-speaking Spain it is often called pan a la catalana; in Cataluña, pa amb tomaquet. One of Cataluña's most famous, yet simplest, exports, the recipe is simple: grilled peasant bread is rubbed with garlic and fresh tomato, drizzled with olive oil, and sprinkled with sea salt. That's it. Not unlike Italy's bruschetta, the bread is wonderful on its own, or as a bed for cheese or jamón.

Pan con Tomate (con Prosciutto di Parma)

Makes 8 slices (4 servings).

Ingredients:

8 thick slices of peasant bread
2 large cloves garlic, halved
1 large tomato, cut width-wise into thirds
your favorite olive oil
fleur de sel

Preheat your grill or a panini pan over high heat.

Grill the bread, giving it a nice toast and grill marks but not toasting it solid.

With the bread still hot, rub a garlic clove half across the top (grilled side) of the bread. A couple rubs is sufficient. Use one clove half for two pieces of toast.

Rub the tomato slices over the top of the toast, just enough to give a thin film of tomato across the toast. Use one side of one slice the tomato for two pieces of toast.

Drizzle the toast with olive oil. Sprinkle with fleur de sel.

Serve warm or at room temperature, with a soft goat's cheese or your favorite jamón. Pan con tomate with goat's cheese pairs well with a rosé of the Trepat grape from the Conca de Barberà DO in Cataluña. The toast with jamón pairs well with a red wine of the Grenache (called Garnacha in Spanish and Garnatxa in Catalan) grape from the Priorat DOQ, also in Cataluña.

Penne all'Arrabbiata with Langoustines

2009-12-29T11:45:00.003-05:00

The langoustine has too many names: norway lobster, dublin bay prawn, dublin prawn, scampo, Nephrops norvegicus. Langoustine look like crayfish, but are members of the lobster family (Nephropidae), yet taste more similar to spiny lobster (langouste), which aren't even Nephropidae. Phew!

This recipe prepares penne rigate, with a condimento of sugo all'arrabbiata and a generous helping of langoustines. We first saute the langoustine until golden, and then we finish them right in the all'arrabbiata sauce.

Photo of grilled langoustine by Wikipedia user Lord Phillock used under cc-by-sa 3.0 license

Availability: Langoustines are available year round. Like crustaceans and many fish, they are best in the colder months, starting in November. They peak around now, in late December through January.

Selection: Buy live langoustine if available. Make sure they are moving, with straight, uncurled tails. The bodies should be pinkish and the tales not black. Most langoustine, however, are available frozen, as they do not live long once caught. Look for pink specimens frozen on the boat, immediately upon catching, without extraneous liquids or any chemicals. Langoustine are found in warmer waters, but the (relatively) colder the water in which they were caught, the better—Irish and Scottish langoustine are particularly prized. Compared to lobster, langoustine are small—the largest are around 9.4 inches (24 cm), but most are in the 7-8 inch (18-20 cm cm) range. Larger langoustine mean more meat for the money, plus less prep overall, but some find smaller specimens sweeter. Do not buy unfrozen but dead specimens: flash frozen or alive, only.

Storage: If fresh, consume immediately—langoustine do not last long. If frozen, store in the freezer up to 1-2 months until ready to use. Gently but completely thaw before use. Once cooked, langoustines will last 1-2 days in the refrigerator.

Edibility: Only the tail and the claws contain edible meat, and the meat in the claws is scant and hard to remove. Most preparations use only the tail. The head contains edible goodness, although not meat, that is a great base for stocks.

Makes 4 servings.

Ingredients:

16 langoustines
1 batch sugo all'arrabbiata (recipe)
3 tablespoons olive oil
1/2 cup finely-chopped Italian parsley
sea salt, to taste

Prep the langoustines by pulling their head from the body. With kitchen shears, remove the legs. Snip the underside of the hard shell. Use your fingers to pull back and then peel off the shell. Devein by sliding the tip of a knife under the dark "vein" that runs down the back of the tail. Pull it up and then out. The remaining bodies should be headless, legless, shell-less, and deveined. Reserve. Discard the legs. Set aside the heads for another use, such as a stock.

Bring a large stockpot of heavily-salted water to boil. Add the penne rigate. Cook until 60 seconds shy of al dente. Drain, reserving 2 tablespoons of cooking liquid.

Meanwhile, in a large saute pan, bring the sugo all'arrabbiata to a simmer. Keep warm.

Heat a large frying pan over medium heat. Add the olive oil. Once hot, add the langoustines. Saute, turning once, until starting to golden, about 2 minutes. Lightly salt.

Remove the langoustines from the frying pan and add them to the saute pan with the sugo all'arrabbiata. Simmer until cooked through and pinkish in color, about 2 minutes.

Add the drained penne rigate and reserved cooking liquid to the saute pan. Cook, stirring all of the ingredients together, 60 seconds. Taste and adjust sea salt. Remove from heat. Toss with the Italian parsley.

To serve, divide among four warm pasta bowls.

Sugo all'Arrabbiata

2009-12-29T11:30:00.000-05:00

Sugo all'Arrabbiata, also arrabiata, is an "angry style" tomato sauce of Roman origin (arrabbiato is angry in Italian). Often served with penne rigate as penne all'arrabbiata, the recipe is your usual tomato sauce, dressed with (more) red pepper and garlic.

My recipe is not particularly authentic, as the new world habanero chile is not common in the Apennine peninsula's cuisine. But the habanero is my favorite chile pepper, combining potent heat with a delicious taste. A fistful of dried red pepper flakes, or fresh Calabrian chile peppers if you can find them, are an authentic substitute.

I have seen all'arrabbiata recipes that add sliced onion and batoned pancetta, or even guanciale. At some point that becames sugo all'amatriciana. I like to keep the two recipes separate: all'amatriciana focuses on the sliced onions and guanciale; all'arrabbiata is all about the spice.

Makes 2 cups, sufficient for 4 servings of pasta.

Ingredients:

1 batch basic tomato sauce (recipe)
2 tablespoons olive oil
3 fresh red habanero chile peppers, minced
4 cloves garlic, sliced
1/8 teaspoon sea salt

Bring the tomato sauce to a simmer if not already warm.

Heat a medium saute pan over medium heat. Add the olive oil. Once hot, add the minced habanero, sliced garlic, and a pinch of sea salt. Saute, stirring occasional, until fragrant and just beginning to change color, but not brown, about 3 minutes.

Add the tomato sauce and fold the ingredients together. Bring to a simmer. Cook, stirring occasionally, until heated through and integrated, 3-4 more minutes.

To serve with pasta: Cook the pasta, which is traditionally penne rigate, until a minute before al dente. Drain the pasta and toss it and several tablespoons of cooking liquid with the sauce. Cook for 60 seconds. Plate, garnished with finely-chopped Italian parsley and Pecorino Romano.

Thanks, Giving

2009-11-26T12:30:00.006-05:00

Happy Thanksgiving from Food & Love.

I'm enjoying Thanksgiving at good friends, which means I don't have to attempt the impossible of perfectly roasting an entire large, awkwardly-shaped bird with two types of protein. Instead, I am bringing a dish of cauliflower roasted with olive oil, pistachios, and fleur de sel, and topped with melted Taleggio di Grotta.

What are you cooking?

Blistered Padrón Peppers with Olive Oil and Sea Salt

2009-10-07T09:00:00.008-04:00

Padrón peppers, pimientos de Padrón, are small, green peppers from Padrón, a municipality in A Coruña, Galicia. Sweet and not vegetal like green bell peppers, most are mild but a surprise pepper or two per handful pack a punch. Thus the popular Galician jingle: os pementos de Padrón, uns pican e outros non, "Padrón peppers, some are spicy and some are not!" None are so spicy as to ruin a dish, and thus the mix of mild and hot add to the character and body of any recipe.

Padrón peppers are served many ways—stuffed with a local cheese is a popular and delicious approach—but the best is the simplest: Fried or sauteed until blistered, and served with a splash of olive oil and sprinkle of sea salt. This is how I like to see them as seasonal specials at my local tapas joints and this is how I cook them at home.

Blistered Padrón Peppers with Olive Oil and Sea Salt

Padrón peppers are available late May through early October, with the ratio of spicy to sweet peppers rising as the year progresses, with barely one in ten spicy in early Summer. I love them later in their season—now—when they offer more hot surprises.

As this dish is all about the ingredients, use the best you can get: real Padrón peppers from Padrón or a local farmer, your favorite olive oil, and fleur de sel.

Makes 2-4 servings, depending on the number of other tapas.

Ingredients:

2 tablespoons plus 3 tablespoons your favorite olive oil
1/4 pound (about 25) Padrón peppers
fleur de sel, to taste

Make sure the peppers are well-cleaned and completely dry.

Heat a large frying pan that has a lid over medium heat. Once hot, add 2 tablespoons of olive oil. Add the peppers to the frying pan. Saute, flipping the pan often, until the peppers are blackened in large spots and starting to blister. Season with fleur de sel. Cover tightly with the lid, remove from heat, and let rest 2 minutes, until blistered, starting to peel, and cooked through.

Add the remaining 3 tablespoons of olive oil. Taste and add more fleur de sel as needed. Toss. Using a slotted spoon, transfer to a serving bowl. Serve and eat immediately, while very hot. Pairs well with a Galician white wine from the Ribeira Sacra DO made from the Albariño grape.

Red Wagon Cocktail

2009-10-06T09:00:00.001-04:00

I call this cocktail the Red Wagon, because the crème de cassis gives it a deep reddish hue. This drink is refreshing and crisp but not cloy, perfect for early fall. You might think the cassis would overwhelm the tequila but it does not—both shine through, perfectly balanced.

Crème de cassis is a dark red liqueur flavored by black currants, which are cassis French. The liqueur is sweet, with the overwhelming note of black currants—pure dark fruit, the archetypal note in Cabernet Sauvignon. Real crème de cassis is made in Burgundy and the best, labeled Crème de Cassis de Dijon, comes from Dijon.

Makes 1 drink.

Ingredients:

1.5 ounces (1 jigger shot) tequila blanco, such as Patrón Silver
1/2 ounce (1/2 pony shot) crème de cassis
1/2 ounce (1/2 pony shot) lime juice
1 ounce (1 pony shot) San Pellegrino Limonata
1 lime twist, to garnish

Fill a cocktail shaker with large ice cubes. Add the tequila, crème de cassis, and lime juice to the shaker. Shake vigorously for 15 seconds. Let rest until the outside of the shaker begins to sweat.

Fill a pilsner glass with large ice cubes. Simultaneously strain in the contents of the cocktail shaker and add the San Pellegrino Limonata. Garnish with a lime twist. Serve.

Simple Arugula and Prosciutto Salad

2009-09-15T09:00:00.003-04:00

Nothing could be simpler: Arugula from your farmers' market, grape tomatoes, Parmigiano-Reggiano, prosciutto, and a balsamic vinaigrette. And, yet, no salad is better.

Simple Arugula and Prosciutto Salad

Makes 4 salad course sized servings, 2 main course servings.

Ingredients:

1 pound arugula
2 cups grape tomatoes
1/2 cup balsamic vinaigrette (recipe)
1/4 pound Parmigiano-Reggiano, peeled into strips
2 ounces prosciutto di parma, thinly-sliced
sea salt, to taste
freshly-ground black pepper, to taste

In a large bowl, combine the arugula and grape tomatoes. Season lightly with sea salt and black pepper—keep in mind the prosciutto is salty. Add the balsamic vinaigrette, a few tablespoons at a time, and toss to coat. Add more as needed, until the greens are lightly coated. Taste and adjust sea salt and black pepper.

Divide the salad among bowls. Divide the Parmigiano-Reggiano among the four bowls, arranging the peels in the middle. Divide the prosciutto di parma among the bowls, twisting each slice into a mound and placing them around the perimeter of the bowl. Serve. Pairs well with a white wine of the Verdicchio grape from the Verdicchio dei Castelli di Iesi DOC.