Braised lamb shoulder with green tomatoes and Concord grapes

Loved this Sara Jenkins recipe, but let me hasten to add that I didn't use lamb shoulder, green tomatoes or Concord grapes. It is a late summer recipe, but I wanted to have lamb in the early spring and this one looked easy and good.

Whole Foods of course finds it inconvenient to stock lamb shoulder. My butcher friend there, Andres, explains that when they get shoulder, they just sell it as ground meat. So the "lamb stew meat" in the packaged section was leg, New Zealand leg, but what can you do? It was cut to the 1-1/2 in. cubes called for in the recipe and it was lean, tender and delicious.

No green tomatoes, but a package of some odd brown tomatoes called Kumatos, from Mexico. So at least they weren't red and seemed like a good size to cook whole. Finally, no Concord grapes, but some seedless red muscat grapes from Chile. At least I didn't have to take a toothpick and push out the seeds in each grape, as instructed by Jenkins.

So the rest was easy. Toss the lamb cubes in 2 tsp salt and several grindings of pepper. Brown the lamb in 1/4 c. olive oil. Jenkins specifically says to brown in one layer, don't crowd, but you only need to brown on one side, push to the edge of the pot and put in the rest. Remove the lamb and drain off all but 3 to 4 Tbl. of the fat (since the meat was lean, I didn't need to drain off anything). Brown 4 medium green tomatoes and 4 garlic cloves (she doesn't say peel them, but I did) for 3 min., turning often. Return lamb to pot, and add 1-1/2 c. grapes and 3/4 c. white wine. Put into a preheated 350-degree oven for an hour. Serve with rice or couscous (I opted for rice) and make sure each serving includes a tomato and a garlic clove.

What happens is that the grapes burst and the tomatoes also give up a ton of liquid so you have a wonderful soupy meat sauce, nicely balanced with sweetness and acidity. The lamb had a wonderful flavor and leftovers were great. Maybe I'll try it again in late summer with green tomatoes and Concord grapes!

Tuna Provence style

Solo dinner again so went to the Fishery and got some tuna for Mark Bittman's recipe. We had a lot of the ingredients on hand from the cassoulet over the weekend, so it was pretty easy.

Bittman makes a point of letting the skillet get hot before putting in the oil and browning the tuna. I'll give the amounts he gave for 4 servings, though I cut in half and saved leftovers for another meal. Dredge 1-1/2 lbs. tuna steak in flour and saute in 1/4 c. olive oil, 2 min. on each side, then set aside.

Put 3 cored and chopped tomatoes, 4 crushed and peeled garlic cloves, 2 chopped "green frying peppers" ("the long, light green kind" he specified, which Safeway called "pepper cubanelle"), several sprigs of thyme, salt and pepper, 1/4 c. black olives, 1 c. white wine, and 1/4 c. chopped parsley into the skillet and cook over medium heat for about 10 min., until the tomato starts to break down. (Perhaps because I cut the recipe in half, this dried up on me, so watch carefully.)

Put the tuna back in for 5 to 6 min., turning once, and serve with another 1/4 c. chopped parsley sprinkled over it. I had some red bliss potatoes in the fridge from my last fish dinner so cooked those as s/mashed potatoes. Not much can go wrong with a recipe like this -- great provencal flavor and healthy tuna meal.

Cassoulet de canard confit

Cassoulet is of course the ultimate bean dish. For those of us who cut our gastronomic teeth on Julia Child's books, her arduous three-day recipe for cassoulet was the mountain you had to climb. It's a great recipe, and like all of her recipes, really works if you methodically follow all her steps.

But her recipe using pork, lamb and "sausage patties" was concocted at a time when many ingredients weren't widely available in the U.S. and is just one variation of a dish that has many, many variations. She lists confit d'oie as an option in her recipe, whereas most cassoulets in France and nowadays here in French restaurants would consider confit an essential ingredient.

So I was very happy when a friend sent me this recipe, which he extracted from a studious reading of the more interesting sections of The Wall Street Journal. It says it is adapted from the Bouchon Bistro in Yountville, Calif. It is a much simpler version of cassoulet, heavy on the garlic, and without Julia's addition of tomato, a controversial choice among cassoulet enthusiasts. It turned out extremely well and was a big hit with our dinner guests.

The key here, not surprisingly, is the beans. The recipe calls for 1-1/2 lbs. of tarbais or runner cannellini beans. Dreamer that I am, I somehow thought I would come across tarbais beans at Balducci's or Whole Foods. I didn't and toyed with the idea of just getting cannellini or navy beans, but a little research showed that what tarbais and runner cannellini have in common is that they are a good deal bigger than regular cannellini beans.

I still had time to order from my favorite bean supplier, Rancho Gordo, and had them rush 2 1-lb bags of their runner cannellini beans. Steve Sando's beans have never disappointed us and I'm very glad I took the trouble to get these beans. They were plump and meaty, they held their shape but were melt in your mouth tender. They of course absorbed all the wonderful flavors that go into cooking a cassoulet.

You start two days ahead of time by covering the beans with room-temperature water to soak overnight. The day before dinner, you drain the beans and put them in a large pot with a bouquet garni of peppercorns, bay, garlic and thyme, as well as 1 peeled and halved onion, 1 peeled and crosswise halved carrot, and 1 split leek. The recipe calls for 1 2 oz. piece bacon skin or trimmings, which may be easy to find in Yountville, but I wouldn't know where to find it here. So I just put in a small ham hock. You cover the beans with up to 4 qu. of no-salt chicken or duck stock (I used 2 qu. of low-sodium chicken stock and added 1/2 qu. during cooking). Cook until tender, 1-1/2 to 2 hours. You pour everything -- beans, stock, aromatics -- into a bowl to cool and then refrigerate overnight.

So it's a shortcut of sorts to flavor the beans. Julia makes a big point of using all the cooking juices from the various meats to flavor the beans, but this works and the beans have tons of flavor.

The other thing to do before the final assembly is to fix the garlic puree. You take 3 c. (!!) of peeled garlic cloves, cover with canola oil and simmer for 1 hour or so, until the cloves are tender when pierced with a knife. It's a lot of garlic, but not as overpowering as you might think. I did use a couple of packages of peeled garlic cloves; these are vacuum-packed now and seem as pungent as cloves you peel yourself. Let it cool and refrigerate until you're ready to puree and mix with beans.

For the final cooking, you preheat the oven to 300 degrees. The recipe calls for 1 lb. of "garlic sausage" and I have no idea what that is supposed to mean. I opted to use Whole Foods fresh mild Italian sausage, which some websites listed as an acceptable substitute for saucisson de Toulouse, a standard ingredient in cassoulet. Since the sausage was fresh, I cut it into 2-in. chunks after sauteing it in 2 Tbl. duck fat, rather than before, as the recipe directs.

The recipe calls for 8 legs of duck confit, and notes you can either fix it yourself following Julia's recipe or buy those ready-made from D'Artagnan. I had noticed the duck confit at Balducci's when I got D'Artagnan's fresh moulard legs for last month's duck recipe, so I didn't hesitate to go back there for the confit legs. They are individually vacuum-packed and keep a month or so in the fridge. They are same large, meaty moulard legs I bought fresh, only cooked in the confit style. The recipe suggests browning the confit legs as an option, which I did.

So on to the final assembly. You drain the beans, discarding the aromatics but keeping the stock. You reduce the stock by half in a large stockpot. Meanwhile, you drain the oil from the garlic cloves, puree the garlic, and whisk it into the reduced stock along with 2 Tbl Dijon mustard and 3 Tbl butter, emulsifying it all. You add the beans to this mixture and toss to coat. The beans should be moist, neither dry nor soupy. Add 1 Tbl or so of salt to season. Turn all this into a heavy ovenproof pot and "nestle" in the sausage and duck.

To prepare the topping, you heat 3 Tbl duck fat in a skillet, add 1-1/2 c. breadcrumbs and saute until the crumbs are golden brown. Off the heat, add 3 Tbl each of chopped parsley and thyme. Sprinkle this over the bean mixture, cover and put into the oven for 45 min. Remove the lid and cook for a further 15 min. Serve immediately.

As I said, it was really tasty. I cooked it for a good hour covered and 1/2 hour uncovered. It stayed moist enough though next time I would leave the bean mixture slightly soupy to give you more leeway in cooking time. We preceded with a simple green leaf salad with avocado dressing -- not notably French but good and fresh and light before the cassoulet. Said friend above who started this whole adventure was kind enough to bring several bottles of 2009 Chateauneuf du Pape to accompany the meal and it turned out to be a superb choice.

Dessert was an exquisitely delicious prune upside down cake that Andrea found in Food and Wine. The prunes are poached in a syrup of white wine, sugar, vanilla and cinnamon, placed into individual ramekins and covered with caramel sauce, then topped with a yellow cake batter made with olive oil instead of butter. This appealed to us because it seemed very southwestern French and was so different and original. The execution was flawless and made for a very special dessert, served with creme brulee ice cream, and followed with Clear Creek plumb eau de vie.

Margarita weather

With the temperature near 80 and the weather more like summer than spring we mixed the first margaritas of the season on Friday. Using the last of the Cointreau (hard to go back to Triple Sec after you've had the real thing) and the Stirrings mix I picked up last week, we had our margaritas with Whole Foods made-in-store guacamole and chips.

To complete the theme and to take advantage of the beautiful grilling weather, we had some Southwest chicken kebabs from Cheryl and Bill Jamison's The Big Book of Outdoor Cooking. I've never done too much with skewers, I guess because it's more work, but they have some good recipes and I'm willing to try some more.

This has the colors of the Mexican flag and makes for a very nice presentation. The actual skewers consist of the marinated chicken chunks alternating with orange bell pepper, red bell pepper, lime slices and chunks of orange.

The 1-inch chunks of boneless skinless chicken thigh get marinated just for an hour in a paste made up 1/3 c. tequila, 1/3 c. fresh lime juice, 1/3 c. pickled jalapenos w. 2 Tbl of liquid from the jar, 3 Tbl. vegetable oil, 4 scallions white and green parts coarsely chopped, 2 or 3 peeled garlic cloves, and 1 tsp salt, all purreed together into a paste. You stir in 1/4 c. fresh orange juice and/or 2 Tbl Triple Sec (I used just OJ). Pour in with chicken in a ziploc bag and refrigerate.

For the skewers, you cut 3/4-in. dice of the red and orange bell peppers, 1/4-in. rounds of 2 limes, and 1 big orange cut into chunks, each with skin on it. I actually alternated 2 chicken chunks with the other stuff, and ended up with one skewer that had no fruit and leftover bell pepper. Brush the skewers with melted butter and grill on medium heat (4 to 5 second hand test) for 8 to 10 min., turning to cook all sides (I actually took 12). Optionally, you can brush again with melted butter after you take them off the grill (skipped this, too).

We ate with warm flour tortillas and the kebabs were delicious. Chicken thighs have lots of flavor anyway and the marinade added to it. I used mild jalapenos; hot or a mix of hot and mild would kick up the heat. They were good as is but if you dressed up with sour cream and salsa they would be a big hit with company.

Palena

We have been meaning to go to the formal dining room at Palena for some time and try the prix fixe menu there. So for a special occasion this week we went to test just how well Frank Ruta's famously meticulous and exacting standards worked in practice.

It was fabulous. The best food we have had since Paris. We opted for the more expensive six-course tasting menu and there was not a false note in any of the six courses (nor in the two amuse-bouches, the palate-cleansing sorbet, or the coffee sweets). Everything was fresh, refined, cooked just exactly right, and aesthetically enticing. In addition, the decor and service were just right, very professional but never stuffy, and enhanced the overall dining experience. Despite the high price, it is a great value proposition, given the quality.

Our menu started with a crudo of striped bass on lime creme fraiche. There was the subtlest taste of sea in the fish, not obscured by citric acid, but nothing that would offend those who don't like a fishy taste. The pan-seared sea scallop with pancetta and mushrooms that followed was just superb; you can hardly do scallop like this at home. The rabbit ballotine was a delicate concoction that magically combined the heartiness of the rabbit with the lightness of a ballotine. But it was the gnocci with goat cheese that virtually stole the show; exquisite, full of butter without tasting heavy or greasy.

The main course was roasted chicken breast, which may sound pedestrian to some for a gourmet tasting menu, but this was tender, with a pure real chicken flavor and a light crisp skin and may have been the best chicken breast I've ever eaten. The dessert medley contained a chocolate mousse and an olive oil ice cream, among other delights, but perhaps because it was at the end of such a big meal, we had trouble figuring out what was which -- but they were all good!

I also ordered the wine pairings and they were fine, but six half-glasses for $51 was not a great value, and I would pass in favor or ordering by the glass or the bottle. A half-glass served with each course simply does not make for relaxed sipping between the courses.

The restaurant was just half full on a week night, which was great for us because it was lively enough but not noisy or hectic. I presume Ruta can meet his fixed costs with the expanded cafe operation, where we have often enjoyed the hamburgers and other more mundane offerings. The prix fixe is clearly a labor of love and a standard-setter for DC. I highly recommend this gem to residents and visitors.

Marcella Hazan comfort food

Julia Child certainly pioneered gourmet cooking for our generation, breaking down the complex dishes into easy steps. But Marcella Hazan injected the fun of simple, easy Italian dishes into the equation with The Classic Italian Cook Book, and nowadays it is her recipes we go back to while it's rare that we still do Julia's.

Two perennials that we do every year at least once, though rarely on the same weekend as we did this year, are the pork loin braised in milk and the sauce bolognese. Both dishes apparently come from Bologna, the capital of Emilio-Romagna, generally considered the epicenter of Italian cuisine. Both combine meat and milk in a very un-kosher fashion. Both are incredibly simple and delicious.

For the pork, you take a 2 lb. tied roast, brown it in 2 Tbl. each of butter and oil, salt and pepper, add 2-1/2 c. milk and let it cook for 1-1/2 to 2 hours, turning the pork occasionally and basting it. Add more milk if necessary. When pork is tender, remove and drain fat from pot, add some water and boil quickly to loosen cooking bits. Slice the pork and drizzle the pan juice and brown milk curds over the slices. For the first time, I actually followed Marcella's suggested accompaniment of fried artichoke wedges and they were terrific with the pork.

The sauce bolognese is almost as easy. You soften 2 Tbl chopped onion in 3 Tbl each of butter and oil, add 2 Tbl each of chopped celery and chopped carrot and cook gently for 2 min. Add 3/4 lb. ground beef, breaking it up and cooking over medium heat only to color it. Marcella makes a point in her head not of how important it is not to brown the meat, so that it can get sweet and velvety in the subsequent stewing. She calls for 1 tsp. salt in with the meat but we find that too much and reduce it to 1/2 tsp. Then add 1 c. white wine and cook over medium high heat until evaporated. Then 1/2 c. milk and cook over medium until evaporated. Then 2 c. canned Italian tomatoes, roughly chopped, with their juice. When the tomatoes start to bubble, turn down heat to simmer for 3, 4, or even 5 hours.

Often I do a double portion and freeze some, but since it is already spring I just did the recipe portion (which she optimistically lists as 6 portions). Every time we have it we agree we should have it more often.

Shad roe

Shad roe has always held a particular appeal to me because it was a favorite dish of Nero Wolfe, the fictional detective who got me interested in both food and mysteries. I suppose author Rex Stout picked on shad roe because it is an esoteric gourmet delicacy. Or maybe he just liked it himself.

It is certainly an acquired taste. Like sweetbreads, shad roe is vaguely repulsive-looking in both its raw (see below) and cooked states. I've not always been happy with my efforts at cooking shad roe. I think it's a bit tricky and I haven't had enough shad roe cooked by others to really know how I measure up.

I wandered into The Fishery yesterday because I was solo for supper. Shad roe has a short season in the spring and, like everything else this year, has arrived early. I bought one pair, which cookbooks tell you is enough for two people, but I don't think so. Total weight is 6 to 8 oz., and even though it is rich, half of that is a pretty small portion.

I turned to Mark Bittman's useful primer, Fish, for a basic recipe and settled on the variation with garlic butter, partly because the roe gets floured before sauteeing. So I dusted the roe in flour, sauteed 3 to 4 min. on each side in 2 Tbl. butter, removed and kept warm, put 2 more Tbl. butter in skillet, softened 1 tsp. minced garlic and squeezed in 2 Tbl. fresh lemon juice and drizzled over roe. I accompanied with boiled potatoes.

The roe had a nutty, subtly fishy taste that I liked. I may have slightly overcooked them because I think the texture could have been a little less dry. I may experiment again before the season is over.

My farmhouse kitchen

One of my dreams is a farmhouse kitchen. In Hamburg, I had an apartment with an old tile stove, complete with brass rail, that I outfitted with a modern gas range, and then got an old pine hutch to complement the rustic look. The renovated barn that I had in Princeton had great rustic cabinets made from the original wood from the stalls and I acquired an (overpriced) farm table to go along with it.

We talk about renovating our kitchen here one of these days in the style of an Italian farmhouse, and maybe one day we will. My dream is about that idyllic picture of a kitchen that is the center of meals and gatherings. It usually goes with an outdoor table with lots of friends and family sitting down to a feast. In Umbria, for instance, when I rented the house outside Perugia, there was that atmosphere of a comfy kitchen giving on to a gravel terrace with every meal taken outdoors.

But I've decided that a farmhouse kitchen is a frame of mind. I'm really quite happy puttering around in my half-updated conventional kitchen even though it will never appear in House Beautiful. What makes the kitchen comfortable is not the decor or the equipment, but what you're doing there, how you feel about cooking and how good the result tastes. I realized in France that it's not the size or charm of the kitchen that determines what kind of meal comes out, but the cook. Here, too, what counts is that I enjoy what I'm doing, that I take the time for it and that it's relaxing.

It is good food and the company that creates the atmosphere, not a picture-perfect setting. If I lived in a village I grew up in, yes, I would have family and friends dropping by for informal meals. But I live in a semi-suburb in DC and all my friends are very, very busy, so "dinner parties" are scheduled weeks in advance. I'd like to have more frequent, informal meals with friends, and maybe I'll hit upon a way to arrange that. But in the meantime, I'll just go on making plans weeks in advance. It's still a lot of fun.