Andrea fixed one of her favorite recipes from The New Basics Silver Palate cookbook -- a pot roast and pasta recipe that involved braising bottom round with onions and tomatoes, then shredding it and braising it some more. The beef totally absorbs the tomatoey sauce. We served on anelloni -- short, large diameter tubes -- she bought online.
I audaciously tried an Ottolenghi recipe during the week. A whole chicken quartered is marinaded in olive oil, garlic, stock, allspice, sumac and lots of red onions, then roasted with Zataar sprinkled over it. Served with a yogurt-garlic sauce and brown rice.
Tuesday, December 20, 2016
Thursday, December 08, 2016
Roast chicken with butter, sage, garlic, lemon
My intention is to re-purpose this sadly moribund site as a real weblog -- i.e. for the most part simply a log on what we eat, and particularly what I cook. We renovated our kitchen earlier this year and it has made cooking more fun than ever. We have cooked many great meals, some with friends but mostly just us. Unfortunately, I can hardly remember them the next day, let alone keep track of what we had, what we like, where it came from.
Yesterday I roasted a chicken with a rub under the skin of chopped sage, garlic, lemon and butter from Sara Jenkins' Oranges (how thankful we are we sat next to Loren Jenkins at Paula Butturini's dinner at Buck's several years ago, because he told us about his daughter's book). Accompanied with roasted fennel and thyme from Molly Steven's Roasting. Turns out Molly worked with Anne Willans at La Varenne and on her My Chateau cookbook.
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| Our "nouvelle cuisine" |
Friday, November 06, 2015
Flounder
It was a wonderful dinner no restaurant would dare serve. It was too simple, but it was delicious.
I got a filet of flounder just under half a pound from The Fishery. I squeezed some lemon juice onto it, sprinkled some Celtic sea salt, floured it lightly and put it in the skillet where the high-heat sunflower oil was shimmering and cooked it 2 minutes on one side and 1 minute on the other. Served it with brown rice cooked with a little butter and salt and a wedge of lemon. Accompanied with a Cote de Provence rose (last of our summer stock).
The fish was fresh, moist, with all those subtle, mild flavors a white fish can offer, and the brown rice complemented it with that nutty saltiness. A restaurant would have had to gussy it up with a red pepper sauce or something to lend a little color to the plate and to justify the price of an entree. In fact, I recently had a great flounder in a restaurant (Pesce?) but mine was, in all modesty, much better.
I've loved flounder since I discovered it in Hamburg, where one of the regional specialties is Scholle Finkenwerder Art (with a bacon sauce). But it doesn't really need the bacon to shine. I often have a fish night when Andrea has an evening meeting because she is less fond of fish than I am. I'm not ready to join my pescavore friends because I like meat too much, but a meal like this makes me want to keep up my fish nights.
I got a filet of flounder just under half a pound from The Fishery. I squeezed some lemon juice onto it, sprinkled some Celtic sea salt, floured it lightly and put it in the skillet where the high-heat sunflower oil was shimmering and cooked it 2 minutes on one side and 1 minute on the other. Served it with brown rice cooked with a little butter and salt and a wedge of lemon. Accompanied with a Cote de Provence rose (last of our summer stock).
The fish was fresh, moist, with all those subtle, mild flavors a white fish can offer, and the brown rice complemented it with that nutty saltiness. A restaurant would have had to gussy it up with a red pepper sauce or something to lend a little color to the plate and to justify the price of an entree. In fact, I recently had a great flounder in a restaurant (Pesce?) but mine was, in all modesty, much better.
I've loved flounder since I discovered it in Hamburg, where one of the regional specialties is Scholle Finkenwerder Art (with a bacon sauce). But it doesn't really need the bacon to shine. I often have a fish night when Andrea has an evening meeting because she is less fond of fish than I am. I'm not ready to join my pescavore friends because I like meat too much, but a meal like this makes me want to keep up my fish nights.
Sunday, September 20, 2015
Late summer grilling
Getting some creamy marinades for grilling in the late summer. A recipe off the Web involved blending a cup of coriander and mint together with oil and ground spices to slather over pork tenderloins. While you scrape off the marinade before grilling, it is enough to give the pork a nice dark crust and seal in lots of flavor.
Another recipe, from Feeding the Fire, was a "Cornell chicken," which entailed a mayonnaise-like marinade made from mixing 1 cup oil, 2 cups (!) cider vinegar, and an egg together with a poultry blend of dried herbs. The vinegar must have tenderized the chicken -- a small one from Broad Branch, cut into quarters -- because both white and dark meat were incredibly tender and moist, sealed into the nicely charred skin that was full of flavor from the herbs.
Another recipe, from Feeding the Fire, was a "Cornell chicken," which entailed a mayonnaise-like marinade made from mixing 1 cup oil, 2 cups (!) cider vinegar, and an egg together with a poultry blend of dried herbs. The vinegar must have tenderized the chicken -- a small one from Broad Branch, cut into quarters -- because both white and dark meat were incredibly tender and moist, sealed into the nicely charred skin that was full of flavor from the herbs.
Sunday, September 13, 2015
Bar Civita
This "casual elegant" restaurant has a kind of cucina rustica that is supposed to be Italian-inspired American but is, thankfully, heavy on the Italian. The menu is limited like a hostaria, and in fact none of the main dishes appealed to us, but both the antipasti/appetizers and pastas were delicious.
We had a pot of pork rillette with a crema mortadella that at $4 was a steal -- a generous portion with crispy crostini to spread it on. The crostini with feather light ricotta were as advertised -- feather light cheese topped with grilled melon on bigger slices of costini.
The part of Italy doing the inspiring, btw, seems to be Puglia, because my strascinati pasta is attributed to that region. This had a tomato sauce with the rich, deep flavor of long simmering, with spare rib pork ragu, house pancetta, basil and ricotta salata, served hot and a completely satisfying entree amount. Andrea's gnocci with a fresh summer vegetable succotash was a wonderful invention. The vegetables tasted like they were purchased that day at a farmer's market, and the corn in particular seemed to be from a fresh cob. We had a very nice Puglia red at an appealing price of $35.
We were quite happy with this newcomer and it was proof, if we needed it, that Tom Sietsema, who panned the restaurant in a First Bite column, has become cranky and unreliable in his reviews.
We had a pot of pork rillette with a crema mortadella that at $4 was a steal -- a generous portion with crispy crostini to spread it on. The crostini with feather light ricotta were as advertised -- feather light cheese topped with grilled melon on bigger slices of costini.
The part of Italy doing the inspiring, btw, seems to be Puglia, because my strascinati pasta is attributed to that region. This had a tomato sauce with the rich, deep flavor of long simmering, with spare rib pork ragu, house pancetta, basil and ricotta salata, served hot and a completely satisfying entree amount. Andrea's gnocci with a fresh summer vegetable succotash was a wonderful invention. The vegetables tasted like they were purchased that day at a farmer's market, and the corn in particular seemed to be from a fresh cob. We had a very nice Puglia red at an appealing price of $35.
We were quite happy with this newcomer and it was proof, if we needed it, that Tom Sietsema, who panned the restaurant in a First Bite column, has become cranky and unreliable in his reviews.
Friday, January 16, 2015
Simple flavors
Or simply flavor. Fact is, the quality of our food nowadays is so high you don't have to mask it with a lot of spices or long cooking. It can be enough to enhance the flavor with just a little salt and pepper and butter and some basic cooking techniques.
Case in point was an easy weekday meal consisting of pan-roasted pork tenderloin and braised fennel. The single tenderloin got some salt and pepper and sat in the fridge for 4 hours uncovered. Then I seared it in the cast iron skillet for about 4 minutes and put it in a 350 oven for 20 minutes, until it reached an interior temperature of 140.
To accompany, I had cut three medium-sized fennel bulbs into five or six wedges each and sauteed those in butter and oil. Then I added 1/3 cup water, salt and pepper, and covered at a simmer for about half an hour.
I let the tenderloin rest and deglazed the skillet with some of the braising liquid from the fennel, sliced the pork and napped it with the deglazing juice, serving the braised fennel on the side.
The Niman Ranch pork from WF was tender and flavorful, cooked medium rare, with a wonderful saltiness from the early seasoning. The fennel was surprisingly sweet from the caramelizing during the initial sauteeing (I probably could have done this a little longer and gotten even more flavor). Both were exquisitely natural and unadorned, and perfectly paired.
The roasting technique was from the ever-reliable Molly Stevens and the braised fennel recipe from Susan Hermann Loomis's Cooking at Home on Rue Tatin. Fennel is not a Mediterranean vegetable so I though I'd have to go down and get Julia Child for a recipe until I spotted it in this French cookbook.
Case in point was an easy weekday meal consisting of pan-roasted pork tenderloin and braised fennel. The single tenderloin got some salt and pepper and sat in the fridge for 4 hours uncovered. Then I seared it in the cast iron skillet for about 4 minutes and put it in a 350 oven for 20 minutes, until it reached an interior temperature of 140.
To accompany, I had cut three medium-sized fennel bulbs into five or six wedges each and sauteed those in butter and oil. Then I added 1/3 cup water, salt and pepper, and covered at a simmer for about half an hour.
I let the tenderloin rest and deglazed the skillet with some of the braising liquid from the fennel, sliced the pork and napped it with the deglazing juice, serving the braised fennel on the side.
The Niman Ranch pork from WF was tender and flavorful, cooked medium rare, with a wonderful saltiness from the early seasoning. The fennel was surprisingly sweet from the caramelizing during the initial sauteeing (I probably could have done this a little longer and gotten even more flavor). Both were exquisitely natural and unadorned, and perfectly paired.
The roasting technique was from the ever-reliable Molly Stevens and the braised fennel recipe from Susan Hermann Loomis's Cooking at Home on Rue Tatin. Fennel is not a Mediterranean vegetable so I though I'd have to go down and get Julia Child for a recipe until I spotted it in this French cookbook.
Friday, January 02, 2015
Beef short ribs with tomatoes, roasted poblanos and herbs
Celebrating New Year's Eve with friends we went to Mexico with another New Year's, we cooked a Mexican-themed dinner, courtesy of Rick Bayless.
Short ribs is one of our favorite dishes anyway, so this simple recipe, which braises the ribs in roasted and peeled poblanos, onion, garlic and tomato was an easy choice. It was also an easy dish to double and use our big Le Creuset Dutch oven. The ribs get browned and then braised in a slow oven for an hour and a half. The herb is either epazole or thyme (our choice). To accompany, we fixed the classic Mexican rice (arroz blanco), which fries the rice with onions and garlic before adding the broth to cook. Andrea baked up some of her famous corn sticks for bread.
For a starter, Andrea fixed salmon ceviche with orange, capers and roasted green chile from the same Bayless book, Mexico One Plate at a Time, and for dessert a Mexican chocolate pot de creme recipe she found online.
The short ribs were very flavorful and were a big hit, even with those who are not big red meat fans. The ceviche and dessert were also very popular. We had champagne beforehand with cute little cauliflower fritters topped with a salsa, as well as chips and guacamole.
Every time we use a Bayless recipe we resolve to do it more often; we have several of his cookbooks. Maybe this year we will!
Short ribs is one of our favorite dishes anyway, so this simple recipe, which braises the ribs in roasted and peeled poblanos, onion, garlic and tomato was an easy choice. It was also an easy dish to double and use our big Le Creuset Dutch oven. The ribs get browned and then braised in a slow oven for an hour and a half. The herb is either epazole or thyme (our choice). To accompany, we fixed the classic Mexican rice (arroz blanco), which fries the rice with onions and garlic before adding the broth to cook. Andrea baked up some of her famous corn sticks for bread.
For a starter, Andrea fixed salmon ceviche with orange, capers and roasted green chile from the same Bayless book, Mexico One Plate at a Time, and for dessert a Mexican chocolate pot de creme recipe she found online.
The short ribs were very flavorful and were a big hit, even with those who are not big red meat fans. The ceviche and dessert were also very popular. We had champagne beforehand with cute little cauliflower fritters topped with a salsa, as well as chips and guacamole.
Every time we use a Bayless recipe we resolve to do it more often; we have several of his cookbooks. Maybe this year we will!
Thursday, December 25, 2014
Standing rib roast
This is not rocket science -- even the Washington Post had a short blurb about how to do it correctly -- but what I appreciate about Molly Stevens' All About Roasting is that she has all the details in one place that is easy to find and refer to.
The roast was stupendous, crispy brown on the outside, with tender, pink, full prime rib flavor on the inside. We had a three-rib roast weighing 8 lbs (they go up to 5 ribs and 12 pounds). Stevens suggests seasoning it at least a day and up to three days ahead with salt, dry mustard and chopped rosemary, and let it sit uncovered in the fridge. You take it out three hours before roasting, start at 425 for 20 minutes, then turn it down to 325 for one to two hours, until it gets to an internal temperature of 120 for medium rare. Then let it stand 20 to 40 minutes, as the temperature continues to rise and the juices spread back through the meat.
Stevens explains how to shop for standing rib, why you tie it between the ribs (so the slab of fat won't come loose and flip back), and two different ways to carve it. I took the easier way after presenting it to the dinner guests out of the oven, and carved it in the kitchen, cutting along the bone to remove the eye of the beef whole and then slicing it into half-inch slabs. It was gorgeous.
She also had a great recipe for roasted Brussels sprouts with a sauce made of butter slowly browned with mustard seeds and with capers and lemon juice added. You toss the sprouts out of the oven in the sauce and it made for a really yummy accompaniment to the beef.
Roasting is a great way to cook and this book is so useful even for these very simple recipes and techniques because our generation simply doesn't have the savoir-faire that comes from doing all these things regularly and often.
Earlier in the week we used her recipes for pan-seared salmon fillets, finished in a hot oven, and roasted potatoes, with just salt and oil, but very good.
Like her earlier book on braising, this book won James Beard and IACP awards for single subject cookbooks.
The roast was stupendous, crispy brown on the outside, with tender, pink, full prime rib flavor on the inside. We had a three-rib roast weighing 8 lbs (they go up to 5 ribs and 12 pounds). Stevens suggests seasoning it at least a day and up to three days ahead with salt, dry mustard and chopped rosemary, and let it sit uncovered in the fridge. You take it out three hours before roasting, start at 425 for 20 minutes, then turn it down to 325 for one to two hours, until it gets to an internal temperature of 120 for medium rare. Then let it stand 20 to 40 minutes, as the temperature continues to rise and the juices spread back through the meat.
Stevens explains how to shop for standing rib, why you tie it between the ribs (so the slab of fat won't come loose and flip back), and two different ways to carve it. I took the easier way after presenting it to the dinner guests out of the oven, and carved it in the kitchen, cutting along the bone to remove the eye of the beef whole and then slicing it into half-inch slabs. It was gorgeous.
She also had a great recipe for roasted Brussels sprouts with a sauce made of butter slowly browned with mustard seeds and with capers and lemon juice added. You toss the sprouts out of the oven in the sauce and it made for a really yummy accompaniment to the beef.
Roasting is a great way to cook and this book is so useful even for these very simple recipes and techniques because our generation simply doesn't have the savoir-faire that comes from doing all these things regularly and often.
Earlier in the week we used her recipes for pan-seared salmon fillets, finished in a hot oven, and roasted potatoes, with just salt and oil, but very good.
Like her earlier book on braising, this book won James Beard and IACP awards for single subject cookbooks.
Sunday, December 21, 2014
Sausages and lentils in the style of Umbria
Another winner from Domenica Marchetti, this was the ideal comfort food for a winter weekday. The lentils get cooked separately in water with a little end of celery, garlic and a bay leaf. The sausages -- I got the sweet Italian sausage from Broad Branch -- is sauteed, and then the chopped onion and more garlic is sauteed in that fat. For the finish, the sausage is added back into the pot, along with the cooked lentils, tomato sauce and beef broth and everything simmers for half an hour before you ladle it into a dish and enjoy. It is a soupy stew that has absorbed all the sausage flavor and developed a rich sauce.
Earlier in the week, we tried another recipe from Morisson, equally simple. This was just boneless, skin-on chicken breasts seared in a skillet and then finished in the oven with green onions that have been sauteed in the chicken fat. The recipe calls for deglazing the skillet with Vin Jura, or as a substitute, dry sherry. Since I had some fino left over from a recent dinner, that's what I used and it was yummy. Served with brown rice.
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| Photo by Ankara via Wikimedia Commons |
Tuesday, December 16, 2014
Parisian sole
Mimi Thorisson's A Kitchen in France was listed in Saveur as one of the 10 cookbooks to make a good gift and they must have been thinking of the photography. It is one of those books with very few recipes, most of them with ingredients (e.g. quail) that you're not going to find or cook very often. But I thought I'd squeeze what I could out of it, and this proved to be a quick, simple and very tasty recipe that sadly has appeal for only one of us.
I used flounder fillets after consulting Mark Bittman, who says we don't really have sole, even though the Fishery claimed to have a real Dover sole from Britain. They had only one, it was a whole fish and very small, so they didn't even want to fillet it. The fish gets dusted in flour, sauteed, and then sliced shallots get sauteed in the same skillet, simmered briefly in wine and finished with heavy cream. The sauce gets poured over the fish. Following the photo, I served with boiled potatoes and also added steamed broccoli. It had -- from the butter, oil, wine and cream -- a very rich flavor. Leftovers made a great hash for lunch.
I used flounder fillets after consulting Mark Bittman, who says we don't really have sole, even though the Fishery claimed to have a real Dover sole from Britain. They had only one, it was a whole fish and very small, so they didn't even want to fillet it. The fish gets dusted in flour, sauteed, and then sliced shallots get sauteed in the same skillet, simmered briefly in wine and finished with heavy cream. The sauce gets poured over the fish. Following the photo, I served with boiled potatoes and also added steamed broccoli. It had -- from the butter, oil, wine and cream -- a very rich flavor. Leftovers made a great hash for lunch.
Friday, December 12, 2014
Lamb and green bean stew with farro
This autumn recipe from Domenica Marchetti (Soups and Stews, p. 56) is another winner and just right for a gray fall day. WF actually had some boneless lamb shoulder in just the right amount so it went in with the onions, green beans, farro, chicken stock, and crushed tomato to simmer for 2 hours and turn into a lovely, fragrant one-pot dish. A chiffonade of basil, a glass of cabernet, and life is good.
Thursday, July 24, 2014
La Piquette
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| Photo by La Piquette |
My main course was braised rabbit in a cream and basil sauce that had a slight yellow piquance -- saffron or turmeric -- ladled over perfectly cooked and very hot linguini. Andrea ordered the roast chicken, which came with (hot) roasted vegetables and crispy hot fries. The chicken had a tangy Dijon mustard rub set off well with the fries. I had a fresh draft beer and Andrea had a Cote de Provence rose to drink.
We skipped drinks and dessert on a quick week night meal, but they looked good, too. And there's a lot of great choices on the menu to try next time!
Sunday, June 22, 2014
A midsummer feast
Saveur magazine is all about culinary travel and often enjoyable to read, but this was the first time we took a whole menu for a dinner party. The June/July issue had an irresistible story by a Swedish journalist about the celebration in his country, complete with beautiful descriptions and photos of the food, and, as always with Saveur, the recipes.
I was in western Finland once at the time of the summer solstice and enjoyed the celebration there of the year's longest day with huge bonfires and some drinking -- and yes, it hardly got dark.
The prep started a week beforehand with the infusion of some vodka to make aquavit. The Saveur recipe suggested rhubarb, dill, lemon verbena, caraway seeds and juniper berries. I made two batches, adding lavender to both, and then star anise to one and fennel seeds to the other. The results after 72 hours were very smooth and rounded drinks, delicious served straight from the freezer but unfolding nicely as they warmed up. Both were a bit more floral than store-bought aquavits, such as Linie Aquavit. The anise batch tasted more like your typical aquavit, though much softened, whereas the fennel batch was just well rounded. I got some Carlsberg Elephant beer to chase it with.
Midway through the week it was time to put the gravlax into the fridge to cure. The recipe is simple -- 2/3 cup kosher salt, 1/3 cup sugar and 2 tablespoons coarsely ground white pepper for 2 pounds of salmon fillet, with minced dill and vodka sprinkled over the salmon after it's smeared with the curing mixture. At the Fishery they recommended the Canadian farm salmon for the purpose and suggested fitting two symmetric 1-pound cuts together during the curing (a method it turns out that is often suggested on the Web). The fish gets wrapped in double layers of plastic wrap and turned and massaged every 12 hours for 48 to 72 hours. The fillet gets firmer as the curing process "cooks" the flesh. What emerged was that soft, buttery, deeply flavorful delicacy -- a total success, and so easy. We used the crisp bread recipe from the magazine to serve with it and that was fun. This was a crispy flatbread made of fine corn meal batter and liberal amounts of sesame, sunflower and flaxseed, giving tons of texture and flavor to the crackers. Following the directions, we spread softened butter (Danish butter!) on the crisp bread and ate the gravlax on top of that. Together with the aquavit and beer, it was almost a meal in itself! There was Gruner Veltliner for those who didn't aquavit, also a great pairing.
The main course was grilled loin of lamb. The article called for entrecote of lamb but I'm fairly certain there's nowhere to get that cut in Washington. So we substituted boneless, rolled and tied loin of lamb and used the herb paste -- minced marjoram, sage, rosemary, thyme, crushed garlic and olive oil -- applied 30 to 60 minutes before grilling after sprinkling salt and pepper on the meat. I used the Big Green Egg for better temperature control to keep the direct grilling at the medium high heat called for. The bigger lamb loin took almost double the 25 minutes specified for the entrecote to reach the 125-degree interior temperature. But the lamb was a total hit -- tender, intensely flavorful from the rub, but predominantly tasting of meaty lamb.
The menu accompanied the lamb with a tomato "sauce" of cherry tomatoes roasted with chopped basil, shallots, thyme, garlic and olive oil. Once the tomatoes popped, they were stirred together with chopped roasted red pepper, Holland chile, and more oil, basil and thyme. (What you may ask is a Holland chile? A word of advice -- don't google for it during a World Cup where the Netherlands and Chile are playing in the same group.)
Additional accompaniments were shallots grilled in foil with garlic and dill and a potato salad of boiled whole baby potatoes, diced kohlrabi sauteed in butter, and yes, more dill. Everything but the lamb could be served at room temperature though we reheated the potato salad to reliquefy the butter. It is marvelously relaxing to serve cucina fresca in the summer, where everything can be ready ahead of time.
The tomato sauce and shallot were scrumptious and could accompany virtually any grilled meat. The potato salad won points for novelty. Kudos to New Morning Farm for having the kohlrabi, but also a big compliment for Whole Foods with all their bulk seeds and grains, and for a friendly butcher team that helped me out with the lamb.
Saveur called for an almond cheesecake with macerated strawberries, but Andrea preferred to find a non-almond version online and conjured up a perfect cheesecake with sour cream, mascapone and graham cracker crust, which combined with NMF strawberries macerated in sugar and Grand Marnier rounded out the meal with a relatively light touch. We had a southern Cote du Rhone red with the main course, and concluded with Grand Marnier and other digestifs. Full recipes and some great photos can be found online at Saveur.com.
The solstice is called "midsummer" even though it is the day that officially marks the start of summer because historically those celebrating it thought of only two seasons, summer and winter, and the solstices are the middle of those seasons. Another semantic puzzle is that Swedes dance around a Maypole in June. Whatever, God bless them.
I was in western Finland once at the time of the summer solstice and enjoyed the celebration there of the year's longest day with huge bonfires and some drinking -- and yes, it hardly got dark.
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| Photo by Miia Ranta via Wikimedia Commons |
Midway through the week it was time to put the gravlax into the fridge to cure. The recipe is simple -- 2/3 cup kosher salt, 1/3 cup sugar and 2 tablespoons coarsely ground white pepper for 2 pounds of salmon fillet, with minced dill and vodka sprinkled over the salmon after it's smeared with the curing mixture. At the Fishery they recommended the Canadian farm salmon for the purpose and suggested fitting two symmetric 1-pound cuts together during the curing (a method it turns out that is often suggested on the Web). The fish gets wrapped in double layers of plastic wrap and turned and massaged every 12 hours for 48 to 72 hours. The fillet gets firmer as the curing process "cooks" the flesh. What emerged was that soft, buttery, deeply flavorful delicacy -- a total success, and so easy. We used the crisp bread recipe from the magazine to serve with it and that was fun. This was a crispy flatbread made of fine corn meal batter and liberal amounts of sesame, sunflower and flaxseed, giving tons of texture and flavor to the crackers. Following the directions, we spread softened butter (Danish butter!) on the crisp bread and ate the gravlax on top of that. Together with the aquavit and beer, it was almost a meal in itself! There was Gruner Veltliner for those who didn't aquavit, also a great pairing.
The main course was grilled loin of lamb. The article called for entrecote of lamb but I'm fairly certain there's nowhere to get that cut in Washington. So we substituted boneless, rolled and tied loin of lamb and used the herb paste -- minced marjoram, sage, rosemary, thyme, crushed garlic and olive oil -- applied 30 to 60 minutes before grilling after sprinkling salt and pepper on the meat. I used the Big Green Egg for better temperature control to keep the direct grilling at the medium high heat called for. The bigger lamb loin took almost double the 25 minutes specified for the entrecote to reach the 125-degree interior temperature. But the lamb was a total hit -- tender, intensely flavorful from the rub, but predominantly tasting of meaty lamb.
The menu accompanied the lamb with a tomato "sauce" of cherry tomatoes roasted with chopped basil, shallots, thyme, garlic and olive oil. Once the tomatoes popped, they were stirred together with chopped roasted red pepper, Holland chile, and more oil, basil and thyme. (What you may ask is a Holland chile? A word of advice -- don't google for it during a World Cup where the Netherlands and Chile are playing in the same group.)
Additional accompaniments were shallots grilled in foil with garlic and dill and a potato salad of boiled whole baby potatoes, diced kohlrabi sauteed in butter, and yes, more dill. Everything but the lamb could be served at room temperature though we reheated the potato salad to reliquefy the butter. It is marvelously relaxing to serve cucina fresca in the summer, where everything can be ready ahead of time.
The tomato sauce and shallot were scrumptious and could accompany virtually any grilled meat. The potato salad won points for novelty. Kudos to New Morning Farm for having the kohlrabi, but also a big compliment for Whole Foods with all their bulk seeds and grains, and for a friendly butcher team that helped me out with the lamb.
Saveur called for an almond cheesecake with macerated strawberries, but Andrea preferred to find a non-almond version online and conjured up a perfect cheesecake with sour cream, mascapone and graham cracker crust, which combined with NMF strawberries macerated in sugar and Grand Marnier rounded out the meal with a relatively light touch. We had a southern Cote du Rhone red with the main course, and concluded with Grand Marnier and other digestifs. Full recipes and some great photos can be found online at Saveur.com.
The solstice is called "midsummer" even though it is the day that officially marks the start of summer because historically those celebrating it thought of only two seasons, summer and winter, and the solstices are the middle of those seasons. Another semantic puzzle is that Swedes dance around a Maypole in June. Whatever, God bless them.
Tuesday, June 17, 2014
Bread Furst
Bread Furst has been a great addition to the vendor offering here. Mark Furstenberg's latest venture -- he is in his 70s -- is a great success. His pain au levain rivals anything in France or Germany, Poilane included, and everything we have had -- bialys, baguette, key lime pie, donuts, cheesecake, chocolate cake, frittata, quiche -- has been excellent. Granted, his bagels are too bready and his croissants are not as good as Fresh Baguette, it has nonetheless become one of our very favorite shops.
So we began a perfect Saturday morning -- no humidity, temperature in the 70s, blue skies, pleasant breeze -- with breakfast at Bread Furst, located next to the car wash across the street from my old home in the Albermarle (now rechristened the Avalon). After a cappuccino and croissant, we went the two and a half blocks to the New Morning Farm market at the Sheridan School. There we discovered beautiful asparagus and fresh peas and knew what we were having for dinner.
For a midsummer night's dinner the following week I wanted to infuse my own aquavit, according to a recipe in Saveur. It suggested rhubarb, caraway seeds, dill, juniper berries and lemon verbena as botanicals. We got the rhubarb at the market but of course they didn't have lemon verbena. So we went out to American Plant, since we wanted to supplement the herb garden anyway, and got some lemon verbena and lavender, among other herbs. Having decided we would do Marcella Hazzan's orechietti with peas, pancetta and ricotta, we then swung through some lovely neighborhoods in Montgomery County to go to Vace in Bethesda and pick up the Italian ingredients.
For dinner then we had the pasta dish, which I've made often but only rarely with fresh peas. It is a nourishing and satisfying dish, rich with the ricotta and parmesan and flavored by the pancetta. The peas add a sweet vegetable note of their own. We also roasted the asparagus and dressed it with a lemon vinaigrette for a nice, virtually meatless summer meal on the patio. The asparagus was outstanding after the roasting concentrated the flavor and the vinaigrette accented it.
As to the aquavit -- the jury is still out. I like it, but it is definitely an acquired taste. I've just drained it so it needs to spend a couple of days in the freezer for the real test. I added the lavender and to one jar I added a star anise and to another some fennel seeds. The anise version tastes more like the store-bought, but both have flowery undercurrents you don't really get in the bottled versions.
Bread Furst, by the way, is a very clever name. It plays on Mark's surname of course, and puns with first. Yiddish and German speakers recognize a further pun -- Furst means prince and that make the store Bread Prince, and it truly lives up to its name.
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| Photo by Bread Furst |
For a midsummer night's dinner the following week I wanted to infuse my own aquavit, according to a recipe in Saveur. It suggested rhubarb, caraway seeds, dill, juniper berries and lemon verbena as botanicals. We got the rhubarb at the market but of course they didn't have lemon verbena. So we went out to American Plant, since we wanted to supplement the herb garden anyway, and got some lemon verbena and lavender, among other herbs. Having decided we would do Marcella Hazzan's orechietti with peas, pancetta and ricotta, we then swung through some lovely neighborhoods in Montgomery County to go to Vace in Bethesda and pick up the Italian ingredients.
For dinner then we had the pasta dish, which I've made often but only rarely with fresh peas. It is a nourishing and satisfying dish, rich with the ricotta and parmesan and flavored by the pancetta. The peas add a sweet vegetable note of their own. We also roasted the asparagus and dressed it with a lemon vinaigrette for a nice, virtually meatless summer meal on the patio. The asparagus was outstanding after the roasting concentrated the flavor and the vinaigrette accented it.
As to the aquavit -- the jury is still out. I like it, but it is definitely an acquired taste. I've just drained it so it needs to spend a couple of days in the freezer for the real test. I added the lavender and to one jar I added a star anise and to another some fennel seeds. The anise version tastes more like the store-bought, but both have flowery undercurrents you don't really get in the bottled versions.
Bread Furst, by the way, is a very clever name. It plays on Mark's surname of course, and puns with first. Yiddish and German speakers recognize a further pun -- Furst means prince and that make the store Bread Prince, and it truly lives up to its name.
Sunday, June 08, 2014
Double-crusted baby backs with fennel and coriander
Succulent -- tender, moist, meaty, flavorful, a real home run. This recipe from Cheryl and Bill Jamison's Smoke and Spice produced what Andrea and I both felt may be the best baby backs we ever had. Part of the credit goes to the wonderful meat from WF, a marbled rack weighing 2-1/2 pounds that I cut in half for marinading and grilling. Baby backs from lean pork often come out dry and relatively tough. These were just the opposite.
The Big Green Egg showed that it can come with moist and tender meat if the cook manages to keep the temperature steady, at 220 degrees in this case. I was beginning to wonder if it really could smoke meat without a pan of water, but it certainly performed well here.
But it was the recipe, with a rub of crushed fennel seeds and coriander seeds, that sharpened and focused the marvelous pork flavor of the ribs, without any interference from a mop or a sauce. We put a prepared sauce on the side, but I have to say the pork tasted best to me without any further addition.
It could not be simpler. Crush 2 tablespoons each of the fennel and coriander and mix with 2 teaspoons each of sea salt and brown sugar. Put half the rub on the ribs the night before. Take them out of the fridge 30 minutes before putting them in the smoker and put the other half of the rub on them. (Disconcertingly, the Jamisons then call for you to turn the ribs halfway through and put the remaining rub on them, so I saved a little back for that purpose.)
They cook for three hours. I started them meaty side down and turned them over halfway. No basting or mopping, just steady control of the temperature. The result was precisely as called for by the recipe -- a crusty surface that contrasts dramatically with the juicy meat.
Fennel is the key spice in porchetta, so it's no surprise that this spice pairs astoundingly well with pork. We accompanied with Rancho Gordo's vaquerita beans -- small, deep red beans -- cooked according to Steve Sando's "pot bean" recipe. One-half chopped red onion and 2 smashed garlic cloves get softened in lard (bacon grease in this case) and then add the beans and their soaking water and cook for 1-1/2 hours. To drink, I had a silky southern Cote du Rhone, though the pork probably could have used a slightly more robust red.
I just heard of this book, which is a revised version of a cookbook the Jamisons did before The Big Book of Outdoor Cooking, which I like so much. This one focuses on smoking/slow roasting, and there is some overlap with Big Book. It was worth if for this recipe alone, though I'm sure we'll get many more great meals from it.
The Big Green Egg showed that it can come with moist and tender meat if the cook manages to keep the temperature steady, at 220 degrees in this case. I was beginning to wonder if it really could smoke meat without a pan of water, but it certainly performed well here.
But it was the recipe, with a rub of crushed fennel seeds and coriander seeds, that sharpened and focused the marvelous pork flavor of the ribs, without any interference from a mop or a sauce. We put a prepared sauce on the side, but I have to say the pork tasted best to me without any further addition.
It could not be simpler. Crush 2 tablespoons each of the fennel and coriander and mix with 2 teaspoons each of sea salt and brown sugar. Put half the rub on the ribs the night before. Take them out of the fridge 30 minutes before putting them in the smoker and put the other half of the rub on them. (Disconcertingly, the Jamisons then call for you to turn the ribs halfway through and put the remaining rub on them, so I saved a little back for that purpose.)
They cook for three hours. I started them meaty side down and turned them over halfway. No basting or mopping, just steady control of the temperature. The result was precisely as called for by the recipe -- a crusty surface that contrasts dramatically with the juicy meat.
Fennel is the key spice in porchetta, so it's no surprise that this spice pairs astoundingly well with pork. We accompanied with Rancho Gordo's vaquerita beans -- small, deep red beans -- cooked according to Steve Sando's "pot bean" recipe. One-half chopped red onion and 2 smashed garlic cloves get softened in lard (bacon grease in this case) and then add the beans and their soaking water and cook for 1-1/2 hours. To drink, I had a silky southern Cote du Rhone, though the pork probably could have used a slightly more robust red.
I just heard of this book, which is a revised version of a cookbook the Jamisons did before The Big Book of Outdoor Cooking, which I like so much. This one focuses on smoking/slow roasting, and there is some overlap with Big Book. It was worth if for this recipe alone, though I'm sure we'll get many more great meals from it.
Sunday, May 18, 2014
Macon
Owner Tony Brown's playful concept of combining his hometown of Macon, Ga., with Macon, France, with a cuisine that filters Southern dishes through French refinement is a winner. The restaurant that opened this month in the culinary desert of upper Northwest is bright, classy and destined to be mobbed.
My first taste was at a quick stop at the bar when I ordered the pork rillettes snack from the blackboard. It was a fresh and tasty mix of pork and fat, a small portion served with home-pickled onions and a perfectly toasted brioche. It was a great snack! (The drinks were good, too, as I noted in my drinks blog.)
We came back together the next night for dinner. They had a great table for us in the front with the high windows letting in tons of light (it was a pre-bridge dinner, so we were early). The wait staff was a little clumsy in their enthusiasm, but they clearly meant well. After we placed our order, we were served little cheddar cheese crackers with homemade sliced pickles that were a great way to whet our appetites. We split the fried green tomato starter, which was generous enough we both had more than enough to eat. The tomato slices were perfectly done and a small chunk of pork belly on the top set them off nicely, as did the spiced tomato aioli.
I order the trout with lentils, happy to get a fish you see rarely on menus here though it is a standard in much of Europe. It was presented well and only ever so slightly overdone. The lentils and pecan persillade accompanied it nicely. Andrea ordered the scallops and they were cooked just right, opaque throughout but still moist, sauteed in a light dusting of flour with a sprinkling of bacon on top. Only complaint was she found the portion of three scallops a trifle small, though she admitted she was not hungry at the end of the meal. Perhaps that was due to the side order of biscuits -- lovely, flakey, hot bread destined to become a signature dish. These were served with a softened butter (though I didn't take to the honey mixed into it) and a tart pepper jelly. Andrea had a glass of the Chablis and I had, what else, the Macon-Villages.
It is noisy, as small, crowded restaurants tend to be. It would be hard for more than two people to communicate, at least on a Friday night. The great thing is, it's so close, we can go any night of the week!
My first taste was at a quick stop at the bar when I ordered the pork rillettes snack from the blackboard. It was a fresh and tasty mix of pork and fat, a small portion served with home-pickled onions and a perfectly toasted brioche. It was a great snack! (The drinks were good, too, as I noted in my drinks blog.)
We came back together the next night for dinner. They had a great table for us in the front with the high windows letting in tons of light (it was a pre-bridge dinner, so we were early). The wait staff was a little clumsy in their enthusiasm, but they clearly meant well. After we placed our order, we were served little cheddar cheese crackers with homemade sliced pickles that were a great way to whet our appetites. We split the fried green tomato starter, which was generous enough we both had more than enough to eat. The tomato slices were perfectly done and a small chunk of pork belly on the top set them off nicely, as did the spiced tomato aioli.
I order the trout with lentils, happy to get a fish you see rarely on menus here though it is a standard in much of Europe. It was presented well and only ever so slightly overdone. The lentils and pecan persillade accompanied it nicely. Andrea ordered the scallops and they were cooked just right, opaque throughout but still moist, sauteed in a light dusting of flour with a sprinkling of bacon on top. Only complaint was she found the portion of three scallops a trifle small, though she admitted she was not hungry at the end of the meal. Perhaps that was due to the side order of biscuits -- lovely, flakey, hot bread destined to become a signature dish. These were served with a softened butter (though I didn't take to the honey mixed into it) and a tart pepper jelly. Andrea had a glass of the Chablis and I had, what else, the Macon-Villages.
It is noisy, as small, crowded restaurants tend to be. It would be hard for more than two people to communicate, at least on a Friday night. The great thing is, it's so close, we can go any night of the week!
Friday, May 09, 2014
Grilled branzino
Cooking fish is more about technique than recipes and technique is a question of practice. I practice cooking fish mostly when Andrea has something in the evening, because there's many types of fish she doesn't like -- for instance, whole fish.
To help with technique for a grilled whole branzino, I used a new cookbook, The River Cottage Fish Book by Hugh Fearnley-Whittingstall and Nick Fisher (can you believe it -- he is the fish expert). In their chapter on "Open fire cooking," they have, among other things, the five golden rules of grilling fish -- which basically boil down to "be patient, but don't cook it too long." They are: light the fire well in advance (I have to learn to let the fire sit for a while); preheat the bars of the grill (standard advice for all grilling but particularly important with fish); oil the fish, "not the grill" in italics; don't try to move the fish too soon; be firm and decisive when turning the fish. They discuss various possibilities for grilling -- like putting a bed of bay leaves on the grill or wrapping the fish in wet newspaper (!) that I may eventually try.
I got the branzino at A&H Gourmet, where they had an ice-filled basin with beautiful dorade and branzino. I got the latter because it seemed smaller and more appropriate for one person, but given have big the head and bones were it was actually a bit skimpy and next time I will try the dorade. They cleaned and scaled the fish for me. I rinsed it and patted it dry, squeezed some lemon juice inside and out, sprinkled some sea salt all over, inserted a couple of bay leaves in the inside, and threw some old rosemary on the fire before grilling. I grilled it four minutes on each side, which may have just a tad too long. However, it may be the best branzino I've ever had -- fresh, flaky, delicate in flavor, salty (amazing how well sea salt pairs with fish), just scrumptious. It is a fish you have to chew thoroughly because some bones will make it to your mouth. (Wikipedia informs me that branzino is the northern Italian name for European seabass, known as loup de mer in France; dorade is gilt-head sea bream.)
I accompanied with a kale salad from A&H's new, expanded prepared foods counter and a white Bordeaux that was open. Can't wait to practice more technique!
To help with technique for a grilled whole branzino, I used a new cookbook, The River Cottage Fish Book by Hugh Fearnley-Whittingstall and Nick Fisher (can you believe it -- he is the fish expert). In their chapter on "Open fire cooking," they have, among other things, the five golden rules of grilling fish -- which basically boil down to "be patient, but don't cook it too long." They are: light the fire well in advance (I have to learn to let the fire sit for a while); preheat the bars of the grill (standard advice for all grilling but particularly important with fish); oil the fish, "not the grill" in italics; don't try to move the fish too soon; be firm and decisive when turning the fish. They discuss various possibilities for grilling -- like putting a bed of bay leaves on the grill or wrapping the fish in wet newspaper (!) that I may eventually try.
I got the branzino at A&H Gourmet, where they had an ice-filled basin with beautiful dorade and branzino. I got the latter because it seemed smaller and more appropriate for one person, but given have big the head and bones were it was actually a bit skimpy and next time I will try the dorade. They cleaned and scaled the fish for me. I rinsed it and patted it dry, squeezed some lemon juice inside and out, sprinkled some sea salt all over, inserted a couple of bay leaves in the inside, and threw some old rosemary on the fire before grilling. I grilled it four minutes on each side, which may have just a tad too long. However, it may be the best branzino I've ever had -- fresh, flaky, delicate in flavor, salty (amazing how well sea salt pairs with fish), just scrumptious. It is a fish you have to chew thoroughly because some bones will make it to your mouth. (Wikipedia informs me that branzino is the northern Italian name for European seabass, known as loup de mer in France; dorade is gilt-head sea bream.)
I accompanied with a kale salad from A&H's new, expanded prepared foods counter and a white Bordeaux that was open. Can't wait to practice more technique!
Drunk and dirty tenderloin
The rap on tenderloin is that it's fairly bland, though tender. This recipe, described by the Jamisons as one of their signature recipes, remedies that with a marinade, a dry rub, a mop and a slow roast of 1-1/4 to 1-1/2 hours. It seemed a perfect way to inaugurate the Big Green Egg for the season with a splurge for a small dinner party.
A 2-1/4 pound beef tenderloin gets marinated at least 4 hours in 1/2 cup bourbon (the "drunk"), 1 cup low-sodium soy sauce, 1/4 cup Worcestershire sauce, 2 tablespoons brown sugar, 1/2 teaspoon ground ginger and 4 minced garlic cloves. Drain the marinade and boil it, using half for a mop (add water and oil) and half for a sauce after reducing further. The dry rub is 2 tablespoons coarsely ground black pepper and 1 teaspoon white pepper (the "dirty"). The tenderloin is seared in a skillet and then put into the barbecue smoker at 180 to 220 degrees.
I decided to experiment for once with hickory and applewood chunks to add some smoke, and probably overdid it a bit. But the meat was fabulous -- crusty, tender, bursting with flavor. It is a poster child for what the Jamisons call barbecue grilling or smoking and ideal for the BGE. The next time I will probably try their alternative "Smoked beef tenderloin with garlic rub" which dispenses with the marinade and combines salt with roasted garlic for the rub, and dial back the wood chunks.
This time we had a nice smothered mushrooms recipe from Marcella, which included dried porcini and its soaking liquid to make a rich sauce, and her green bean salad from the third volume. A great super Tuscan from WTSO paired nicely with the meal. Add antipasti, tomato and mozzarella, and a strawberry-rhubarb cobbler and you have yourself a pretty great meal.
A 2-1/4 pound beef tenderloin gets marinated at least 4 hours in 1/2 cup bourbon (the "drunk"), 1 cup low-sodium soy sauce, 1/4 cup Worcestershire sauce, 2 tablespoons brown sugar, 1/2 teaspoon ground ginger and 4 minced garlic cloves. Drain the marinade and boil it, using half for a mop (add water and oil) and half for a sauce after reducing further. The dry rub is 2 tablespoons coarsely ground black pepper and 1 teaspoon white pepper (the "dirty"). The tenderloin is seared in a skillet and then put into the barbecue smoker at 180 to 220 degrees.
I decided to experiment for once with hickory and applewood chunks to add some smoke, and probably overdid it a bit. But the meat was fabulous -- crusty, tender, bursting with flavor. It is a poster child for what the Jamisons call barbecue grilling or smoking and ideal for the BGE. The next time I will probably try their alternative "Smoked beef tenderloin with garlic rub" which dispenses with the marinade and combines salt with roasted garlic for the rub, and dial back the wood chunks.
This time we had a nice smothered mushrooms recipe from Marcella, which included dried porcini and its soaking liquid to make a rich sauce, and her green bean salad from the third volume. A great super Tuscan from WTSO paired nicely with the meal. Add antipasti, tomato and mozzarella, and a strawberry-rhubarb cobbler and you have yourself a pretty great meal.
Thursday, May 01, 2014
Mintwood Place
This Adams Morgan restaurant strikes just the right note between fine and casual dining with a refreshingly novel menu and great execution. Friends have raved about it and I'm sorry now it took us so long to try it. We'll go back soon!
The ambiance is warm and cheerful, with tan wood tones throughout, and an open feeling with booths and room dividers creating some sense of space. It was loud, but bearable enough for the three of us in a booth.
There was an appealing list of starters -- such as a goat cheese and beet mountain pie, suckling pig croquettes and wood-grilled calf's heart and baby collard greens salad -- that I'll have to try when I can bring a bigger appetite.
This time I settled for the iceberg lettuce and blue cheese, which whetted my appetite for a main course of Spanish mackerel, fennel, piperade, picholine, rouille which was very Mediterranean. I'll confess, I probably would have enjoyed the tagliatelle bolognese that Andrea had more, but you so rarely see mackerel on a menu I just had to try it. The mackerel and garnish -- which the chef offers regularly with different fish -- was quite good in any case. The tagliatelle, served impressively in a big swirl, was outstanding, with a wonderfully full and seasoned sauce. Also extraordinary was the guanciale, chard and spaetzle carbonnade served with our companion's pork chop.
I started with a specialty cocktail, the Bardstown Square -- Redemption bourbon, snap (a ginger thing, I was told), Punt e Mes, Aztec chocolate bitters -- which balanced bitter and sweet in an intriguing way (a little too much chocolate for my taste, however). The bottle of Stangeland Willamette Valley 2012 pinot noir we had with the meal was light and fruity and kept everybody happy.
The bread was warm and yeasty and delicious, the butter was soft (always an important benchmark in our book), the service was quite good -- it was in short an all around great experience. Perhaps due to the torrential rain, I even got a parking space!
The ambiance is warm and cheerful, with tan wood tones throughout, and an open feeling with booths and room dividers creating some sense of space. It was loud, but bearable enough for the three of us in a booth.
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| Photo by Mintwood Place |
This time I settled for the iceberg lettuce and blue cheese, which whetted my appetite for a main course of Spanish mackerel, fennel, piperade, picholine, rouille which was very Mediterranean. I'll confess, I probably would have enjoyed the tagliatelle bolognese that Andrea had more, but you so rarely see mackerel on a menu I just had to try it. The mackerel and garnish -- which the chef offers regularly with different fish -- was quite good in any case. The tagliatelle, served impressively in a big swirl, was outstanding, with a wonderfully full and seasoned sauce. Also extraordinary was the guanciale, chard and spaetzle carbonnade served with our companion's pork chop.
I started with a specialty cocktail, the Bardstown Square -- Redemption bourbon, snap (a ginger thing, I was told), Punt e Mes, Aztec chocolate bitters -- which balanced bitter and sweet in an intriguing way (a little too much chocolate for my taste, however). The bottle of Stangeland Willamette Valley 2012 pinot noir we had with the meal was light and fruity and kept everybody happy.
The bread was warm and yeasty and delicious, the butter was soft (always an important benchmark in our book), the service was quite good -- it was in short an all around great experience. Perhaps due to the torrential rain, I even got a parking space!
Wednesday, April 30, 2014
Roast chicken with lemon
A cold, rainy spring day seemed like just the right time for this classic recipe from Marcella Hazan. I'd forgotten how simple it is -- and how delicious. I used a 4-lb kosher chicken from WF with the additional step of letting it air in the fridge for a while before roasting it.
Otherwise I followed her instructions -- massage salt and pepper into the chicken inside and out, roll two lemons and puncture them (20x) with a toothpick, stuff them into the cavity, close the cavity with toothpicks and tie the legs together, put in a 350 oven breast side down for 15 minutes, turn it over for 20 minutes, increase heat to 400 for another 15 minutes. Since my 4-pounder was bigger than the 2.5 lbs in the recipe, I allowed a little longer for each phase and tested the temperature for 165. As she says, the chicken is self-basting and has no need of additional fat.
The result was a very moist and wonderfully tasty chicken with reasonably crispy skin. It was exquisite, filling the kitchen with that roast chicken aroma and rewarding your taste buds with that unadulterated chicken taste.
I felt like lentils on a rainy day and had a small piece of guanciale I wanted to use up, so I googled "lentils pancetta" and got a great little recipe from Mario Batali courtesy of ABC's Chew. This entailed covering a 1/2 lb of lentils with water, bringing to a simmer, adding a halved onion, halved carrot, halved celery, 2 tablespoons Dijon mustard, and 2 ounces of pancetta/guanciale cut into strips. After cooking 20 minutes till tender, drain the lentils, saving a little of the cooking liquid, discard the vegetables, coarsely chop the pancetta and add that back to the lentils with just enough liquid to moisten the lentils. Dress with 2 tablespoons of olive oil, salt and pepper, and serve warm or let come to room temperature -- which Batali rightly says allows the flavors to come out.
Add a salad of baby arugula and a grenache from Spain and you've got a really great meal for a weekday -- plus plenty of leftover roast chicken!
Otherwise I followed her instructions -- massage salt and pepper into the chicken inside and out, roll two lemons and puncture them (20x) with a toothpick, stuff them into the cavity, close the cavity with toothpicks and tie the legs together, put in a 350 oven breast side down for 15 minutes, turn it over for 20 minutes, increase heat to 400 for another 15 minutes. Since my 4-pounder was bigger than the 2.5 lbs in the recipe, I allowed a little longer for each phase and tested the temperature for 165. As she says, the chicken is self-basting and has no need of additional fat.
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| Fir0002/Flagstaffotos via Wikimedia Commons |
I felt like lentils on a rainy day and had a small piece of guanciale I wanted to use up, so I googled "lentils pancetta" and got a great little recipe from Mario Batali courtesy of ABC's Chew. This entailed covering a 1/2 lb of lentils with water, bringing to a simmer, adding a halved onion, halved carrot, halved celery, 2 tablespoons Dijon mustard, and 2 ounces of pancetta/guanciale cut into strips. After cooking 20 minutes till tender, drain the lentils, saving a little of the cooking liquid, discard the vegetables, coarsely chop the pancetta and add that back to the lentils with just enough liquid to moisten the lentils. Dress with 2 tablespoons of olive oil, salt and pepper, and serve warm or let come to room temperature -- which Batali rightly says allows the flavors to come out.
Add a salad of baby arugula and a grenache from Spain and you've got a really great meal for a weekday -- plus plenty of leftover roast chicken!
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