The Christmas Season

I am still annoyed by folks jumping the gun on Christmas. Advent should be a time of expectation, not preliminary indulgence to a feast that then becomes a chore rather than a great delight. However, I am finding myself more annoyed by the abrupt closure of public Christmas on the 26th. Many municipalities collect old Christmas trees even before the 12th day of Christmas. It is a season and should be enjoyed as such.

Anyway, tomorrow we are having one of my favorite Christmas treats: goose carnitas tacos. I take leftover goose, chop it up, add cumin, onions, Mexican oregano and chipotles and fry it in goose fat. Then we have it on tacos (homemade tortillas this year) with onions, cilantro and guacamole. Each bite is pure yum. Then we finish with Mexican hot chocolate. If I am particularly motivated I will also make chicharrones in salsa verde.

Stove Top Moka Express

At the bottom of a comment on another post, a reader asks if one can make decent coffee in one of those stove top Moka deals (in which one puts water in the bottom, ground coffee in a basket and the heat sends the water from the bottom, through the grounds and up a column into a collector).

The answer is yes, if one is careful. Here are the rules:

1. Low heat. The lower the flame you brew over the richer and better the coffee will be, at times almost resembling a true espresso. You want it so that the coffee is just barely oozing over the top.

2. Brew with the lid up. The biggest enemy to Moka Express coffee is allowing the brewed coffee to boil. Ick. Also, with the lid up you can carefully watch the oozing coffee.

3. Correct blend, correct roast, correct grind, correct dose, correct tamp. Moka Express can tolerate a higher percentage of East African beans, which is certainly good news for those of us who like Kenyan and Ethiopian beans. However, not all of the beans can be East African. Use some Columbian, some Javanese, and see that the roast is pretty close to a true espresso roast (not a dark French coffee cinder roast). Grind slightly coarser than for true espresso, fill the basket until it can't be filled no mo', and tamp like your life depends on how tight you can get it all in there.

4. Check the gasket. Those things are made of rubber and they will dry out and crack. You can buy replacements at the same place you bought the pot (or a good coffee bean supplier).

5. Clean water. No funny tastes. They only get magnified in the brewing. If your water is not good tasting, use bottled.

6. Lower your expectations. You will never pull a God Shotfrom a Moka Express. However, you are not going to take the Gaggia with you backpacking, and the Moka Express can make fine coffee, especially for breakfast. I keep mine at my parents' house, along with a grinder. It beats lugging the whole setup with me, and if I really want a great espresso, there is a fantastic coffee house in Sacramento. But for cold Saturday afternoons when we don't have time to go to the coffee house and back because we are going to do something with my parents, it is perfect. Other than that, it is primarily for camping.

Fowl alla Cacciatore

This is here by request. The person requesting it has my phone number and should feel free to call me with any questions.

This is a basic recipe that is suited for all domestic and game fowl, although I do not recommend it for domestic turkey (too much difference between the white and dark meat for it to cook right) or for the fattier birds (duck, goose, etc.).

1 bird (chicken, pheasant, partridge, grouse, etc.), dismembered
Extra virgin olive oil
3 or 4 oz pancetta, finely chopped
2 cloves of garlic, peeled and lightly crushed with the side of your knife
1 onion, cut into thin smiles
1 carrot, very finely diced
1 celery stock, very finely diced
2 ripe bell peppers (I find that any type will do, but avoid the unripe green ones), cored, seeded and cut into thin strips
1 box of Pomi chopped tomatoes from Italy (or a can of 6 in 1 tomatoes from Escalon)
1 cup of dry red wine (or dry white wine or extra dry vermouth)
1 pound crimini (brown) mushrooms, finely sliced
a large handful of dried porcini mushrooms, rehydrated with a cup of boiling water, allowed to sit for 20 minutes, then drained, straining and reserving the liquid, rinsed and finely chopped.
A dozen juniper berries, crushed (or a shot of gin - Beefeaters is the best brand for use in cooking, due to its higher juniper content)
1 Tablespoon fresh thyme leaves (or a teaspoon of dried, if necessary)
1 teaspoon fresh calamint leaves (if available, otherwise skip)
a pinch of fresh marjoram
a bay leaf (preferably Mediterranean bay, but California bay laurel is fine, if that is what you have)
fresh cracked pepper and sea salt to taste
finely chopped Italian parsley

In a large skillet heat up about two Tablespoons of olive oil and gently fry the pancetta. When the pancetta has been frying for about 90 seconds, add the garlic. When the pancetta is cooked, add the onion and fry for a couple of minutes. Add the celery, bell peppers, and carrot and fry until the onions are translucent. Remove vegetables to a work bowl.

If needed add more oil to the skillet and sautee the fresh and rehydrated mushrooms (with the calamint if you are using it). Remove to the work bowl when the mushrooms are cooked, along with any accumulated juices.

Heat up another two Tablespoons of oil and brown the bird parts. When they are done, return the vegetables to the skillet, along with the juniper berries (or gin), the reserved porcini mushroom juices, the tomatoes (and use the wine to get the last bits of tomato out of the container), the wine, and the herbs.

Simmer over low heat until the chicken is cooked, skimming fat and scum as it cooks. Salt and pepper to taste, finish with chopped parsley and serve over polenta or a simple risotto. For a wine, I recommend a young chianti classico, or the Nerello del Bastardo from Trader Joe’s.

If you have questions, email me at EKeilholtz[@t]aol[d.ot]com

Buon appetito!

Our Schizophrenic Weather

Autumn is always a little strange. Last week we were worried about out of control fires. Now we are having rain dumped on us. Lots of rain. I had to change my route twice today because of flooding. This isn't serious, el nino flooding, rather backed up storm drains and the like, which is standard for the first big rain of the season.

I wanted to cook something warm and comforting so I decided on lamb stew. Unfortunately everyone else seems to have had the same idea, so my butcher had already sold out of lamb by eleven this morning. So instead, I roasted a Boston Butt, in honor of the Red Sox.

Here is the recipe:

Make a dry rub of fresh cracked pepper (I use a blend of pink peppercorns, standard black peppercorns, white peppercorns, tillecherry peppercorns, and Jamaican allspice), pimenton, allspice, nutmeg, dried thyme, fresh winter savory, bay leaf, fresh crushed garlic, and sea salt. You can also add a finely chopped salt-packed anchovy, if you have them on hand (which I recommend always having on hand). Lightly oil the roast and rub the spices on. Let sit for at least an hour, preferably overnight.

Put the roast on a rack in your roasting pan and place in the center of a 325 degree oven. When the meat reaches an internal temperature of 150 degrees, strew sliced onions and carrotts on it. Baste.

When the meat has reached 160 degrees, remove it to a board and cover it with foil for ten to twenty minutes (enough time for a martini and to make the salad). Slice and serve. If the pan is not too full of burnt stuff, you can deglaze with cognac, strain and whip in softened butter for a sauce. Salt to taste.

Serve with a red wine. Yum.

Chicken Mistral

Amalia used to like juice a lot. Now she likes the idea of juice, but not the stuff itself so much. As a result we had a bottle of pomegranite/apple juice that needed to be used faster than I could concoct cocktails. So I used it to cook chicken. I will warn you, this recipe calls for ingredients you probably will have to make yourself or procure through a specialty shop.

Inside the rinsed and dried, lavender salted and peppered chicken, I put in a roughly chopped stalk of celery, with leaves, two crushed garlic cloves and half a coursely chopped onion. I put the chicken in a clay Romertopf and rubbed the bird with extra virgin olive oil and put the finely julienned zest of a Moroccan preserved lemon (I do them myself with Meyer lemons and sea salt), the other half of the chopped onion, two more crushed cloves of garlic, and two Italian preserved hot chilis (in olive oil), with the seeds removed. I then poured the juice (one can and probably should use pure pomegranite juice for this, but I had the other stuff on hand), up to about a half an inch from the rim of the bottom half of the Romertopf. I put the lid on and placed it in a 375 degree oven.

When the chicken was done, I put it on my board and covered it with foil. I strained and skimmed the cooking juices and reduced them to a syrup. Then I whipped in almost a whole stick of softened, unsalted, cultured butter and finished with a dash of Spanish brandy.

After I carved the bird, I sauced it liberally and served it with a green salad (I would have served a simple pine nut and raisin couscous, but I was out of couscous) and a Napa Valley Zinfandel (in other words, a Zinfandel pretending to be a Cabernet Sauvignon). Yum.

Ox Kidneys Julia Child

This is basically a combination of an Italian approach to game combined with a classical French approach to game. I have chosen the game treatment for the ox kidneys because of their strong flavor.

First, make a sauce:

1. In hot goose fat, saute a large finely diced shallot and three whole, peeled cloves of garlic.

2. Add finely diced carrots and celery (about two each). Saute.

3. Add a generous helping of sliced crimini mushrooms, combined with a handful of reconstituted porcini mushrooms (reserve the juice).

4. Add the juice of the mushrooms, a generous splash of red wine, and a good splash of glace de viande and a bouquet garni of thyme, winter savory, Greek oregano, bay leaves, juniper berries, French rue, lovage, and parsley, tied in a cheese cloth.

5. Simmer until the flavors blend together. Season with salt and pepper.

6. Saute the whole kidneys in very hot butter, turning so that they cook evenly.

7. When they have cooked for about ten minutes (you want them to still be pretty bloody in the middle), remove them from the heat, trim and slice the kidneys, then finish in the sauce.

8. Serve with red wine and a good bread.

Simple but good variant on clam linguine

A while back I posted a clam-saffron linguine recipe. I was going to make it the other day because it is a fast dish, and we were getting back home on the later side, so I wanted to have dinner ready on the double. Unfortunately I remembered that we were totally out of saffron, so I did this:

Heat a splash of extra virgin olive oil in your skillet.
Add about three cloves of minced garlic. Fry gently for 50 seconds.
Add the meat (juice reserved) of two cans of chopped clams.
Sprinkle a teaspoon of pimenton over the clams and saute.
Add a generous splash of pastis or Pernod and clam juice and simmer.
Add a generous splash of cream and a little dash of good vanilla extract.
Thicken over moderate heat. Adjust for salt and pepper.
Finish cooking your linguine in the sauce and serve with chopped parsley.
Serve with a dry rose (we had a Marques de Carceres Rioja rose) and a green salad.
Do not be offended if your horse-obsessed toddler calls it "hay."

Party post mortem

Last night was my Annual Fiesta de San Fermin, where I cook food from all over the taurine universe. Here is the menu (with a few recipes: if you want more, then holler):

1. Tapas: Spanish chorizo, anchovy stuffed olives, French green olives with herbs, French oil cured olives.

2. Boef Gardienne de la Comargue:

Brown beef stew meat (preferably from a bull) in butter, olive oil, lard or goose fat (I use goose fat, because I always have a huge supply of the stuff).

Saute a few cloves of garlic, a diced onion and add the browned beef. Add a can of ground or chopped tomatoes (I used 6 in 1 from Escalon, California), a generous splash (well, a cup or two) of wine or dry vermouth, the juice of a few oranges, the slivered zest of said oranges, a good dash of lavendar salt, and let simmer.

When the meat is done, add black oil cured olives. Serve over rice.

3. Basque chicken with cabbage:

Saute strips of chicken meat. Add ribbons of cabbage and garlic and cumin seeds and a can of tomatoes. Cook over low heat until the chicken is done. Season to taste. Serve.

4. Gazpacho. Long recipe. If you want it, search the site, as I may have posted it, otherwise holler and I will post it.

5. Grilled linguica and bifanas: The linguica is self-explanatory, bifanas are pork steaks marinated in Portuguese marinade (I buy mine, but you can make your own with red wine vinegar, pimenton, garlic, bay, oregano and salt) for 12 hours, drained and dried, then barbecued. I also grilled a couple of tri-tips in the marinade.

6. Carnitas: search the site, I am pretty sure I have posted this recipe before.

7. sangria: jug red wine, sugar, orange juice, orange slices, apple slices, vodka. Warn guests about the vodka, as it goes down easily, as do guests who have consumed too much.

8. Papas bravas: use red potatoes or Yukon golds: cut into cubes or chunks, fry in olive oil or goose fat with generous dusting of pimenton and salt. Drizzle with

9. Paella. Shell shrimp. Use shells to make shrimp stock. In olive oil, saute garlic, onion, bell pepper, shrimp, then toast rice. Add broth, saffron peas. When rice is about halfway cooked, add more stock, imbed clams and mussels in attractive pattern. Put the pan in oven. When the rice is done, and a crust is formed, remove, adjust for salt, and serve.

Anything else? Probably. It was a long night. I didn't get to bed until 3am. I was head usher at mass today. It was a lot of fun, the kitchen was a mess by the end, and the conversation was great. There were a lot of children running around and no injuries. No one was too sangria-ed to drive safely.

Oh yeah, on Friday I gave myself a haircut. It was the first time I have ever cut my own hair. Melanie fixed the back. It still looks homemade, but it was free. Overall it was a fun experience. You ought to try it sometime.

The Great Stockpot

Certainly everyone knows that the foundation to good cooking is in a good stock. I absolutely recommend learning to make and taking the time to make a brown veal stock, a brown chicken stock (or use turkey necks, which are great), a white veal stock, a white chicken stock, and a fish stock. It is really easy, yields a product far superior to anything you can buy, and makes your food much better.

One thing that I have gradually started to do is to make stocks with unusual bones and odds and ends. For example: last week I barbecued Portuguese pork steaks, chicken, and lamb. All of the bones from these went into the stock pot. The stock stays in the refrigerator for a week and whatever is not drawn for use is used in the next week's stock, which becomes a double extraction stock (very yummy). So this week I added some lamb and beef bones.

Stock lasts forever, provided that it is brought to a simmer or boil and held there for a minute or two. That kind of heat kills anything. What it won't do is bring a spoiled stock back to life. Once it stinks or has even a hint of stink, throw it out and start over. Also (now this might gross some of you out), because of the high heat, I will sometimes use bones from plates, so long as they weren't slobbered on or gnawed on in such a way as to put an unpleasant image in my head.

I have a friend who insists that Keilholtz is a Scottish name, mostly because I find it almost physically painful to pay for parking, but also because I can't bear to throw anything away that I can's still extract some good flavor from.

Anyway, this melange stock is not good for some dishes that require a specific meat flavor, but for general risotto use or to add oomph to a ragu, it is perfect. If you do not want to have to boil it every four days, you can reduce it to a syrup and freeze it. But I do recommend that the next time you have a barbecue, save the bones for the stock pot. The smoky flavor is quite interesting, and goes quite will in rich, meaty risotti.

It's Tomato Grappatini Time!

The other day I was sipping a Rear Admiral Joseph's martini (I have perfected it - a little more vermouth than usual and a splash of ice water from the iced martini glass, and it is a very good martini) while making ensalata caprese and I realized that I should be drinking tomato grappatinis! Remember the experiments from last summer?

A refresher:

White tomato juice: juice your absolutely top notch heirloom tomato and allow the juice to settle. All you want to use is the clear fluid (use the solids in your homemade ketchup). You may want to filter it, because the clearer the juice, the better the grappatini.

Grappa: it really does not matter which one. I would not use one of my expensive grappe, though. Rue flavored grappa might be nice. 2 shots.

Vermouth: To taste. I would use Punt e Mes or Antica Formula or even extra dry Cinzano with a drop of cynar. I use just a touch, though.

Dash of bitters.

In shaker, muddle fresh basil in grappa, add the other ingredients with ice, and strain into chilled martini glasses. Garnish with a green zebra grape tomato, an orange cherry tomato and a chunk of fresh mozzarella.

It's like an Italian V-8, but a lot better!

I suppose one could add a little pastis or something like that. I will have to experiment some more.

The end of 9lbs of leberwurst

I still had one pound of leberwurst in my icebox, and it had, by my educated guess, a day or so of life left in it. I like it, but felt that I had leberwurst coming out of my ears, and the thought of eating a pound in a day wasn't exactly my idea of fun.

Somewhere Melanie found that one can make classic German Leberknuedel with Leberwurst instead of fresh liver. I modified a recipe by deleting the onions (Leberwurst already has onions), adding garlic (felt that the mature beef liver could take it), and serving it in a pork consume (again, figuring that the beef liver would be amply strong to stand up to the powerful porkiness). It turned out great. I also did not have any bread, so I used breadcrumbs, which was less than ideal, but not so problematic as to throw the dish.

Per half pound of Leberwurst:
Take about half the mass of the Leberwurst in bread soak it in milk and knead it. Add an egg, a generous amount of whatever finely chopped fresh herbs you want (I used parsley, Greek oregano, and winter savory), two cloves of garlic, salt and pepper. Knead with the Leberwurst into a paste and form dumplings. Boil the dumplings in salted water for fifteen minutes. Serve in beef broth or with braised sauerkraut.

Serve with either a lager or a dry Riesling (for those of you laughing at the repeated wine and beer pairings, just wait, we will be back to red wines soon).

Enchilada Pie Tirolia

The first time I had enchiladas suissas was in a little town in rural Michoacan. They were outstanding. Basically an enchilada suissa is a cheese enchilada that has been topped with swiss cheese. I have found enchiladas to be a lot more work than they need to be and generally opt for an enchilada pie, which is layered like a lasagna.

Tonight I found myself wondering what to do with the leftover sopa de tortilla base that I had (getting sick of the sopa itself), so I reduced it, added a handful of polenta, another box of Pomi, some Mexican oregano, two seeded chipotles and a dash of pimenton and used it as a sauce.

In a second pan I fried a half pound of chopped pancetta until it was just getting crisp.

In a round dish I layered sauce, handmade corn tortillas, more sauce, grated Swiss cheese, pancetta bits, a dab more sauce, and so on until I was out of pancetta (which happened to be about at the top of the dish). I baked it until the cheese was starting to brown.

I served it with an improvised Mexican crema (I was going to use creme fraiche, but was out) that I made from whipping cream and Fage Total yoghurt from Greece.

I highly recommend this if you made the sopa and have leftovers. Serve with a lager or hefeweizen or margaritas.

Carnitas de Corazon y Sopa de Tortillas

The other day I boiled one of the beef hearts (after trimming it, I cut it into sections and removed anything that looked tubular, fatty or silver) with Mexican seasonings: onion, garlic, toasted coriander seeds, toasted cumin seeds, cloves, cinammon stick, Mexican oregano, bay leaf, and fresh cilantro (OK, it might be coriander overkill, but what a flavor). When the meat was done, I removed it and strained the broth.

Today I chopped the meat into roughly quarter to half inch dice. I heated up some freshly rendered pork lard, and gently fried a diced shallot and chopped garlic with cumin seeds. I added the meat and a chipotle pepper (with a dab of its adobo) and fried it. When it was getting crisp, I drizzled it with lime juice and seasoned it with salt, cinammon and fresh cracked pepper. I used this meat on tacos (using handmade corn tortillas) with some chopped cilantro and queso enchilado. It was very tasty with a pronounced beef flavor.

I put a box of Pomi tomatoes in the blender along with a few cloves of garlic and two toasted and chopped dried cascabel chiles. I blended them until smooth. I fried the stuff briefly in lard and added the broth from the beef, a pint of pork broth (a classic brown stock made with the pork bone from the pork shoulder that went into the liverwurst), some ground coriander, salt, and a sprig of fresh mint and simmered it. When it was done I served it in bowls and topped it with tortilla chips and grated cheese (I don't know what kind of cheese it was - some Italian cheese that tasted vaguely of sheep).

I served beer, but a dry riesling would have worked as well. It was a very good Mexican meal and made me really appreciate beef heart. I would make more, but I have decided to boil the other heart in red wine and make a classic mince pie with it.

NOTE: for some reason this post keeps drawing lots of spam comments, so I have disabled comments on this entry. If you have something you would like to say or add or question, please email me at EKeilholtz [at] aol [dot] com.

Beef Liverwurst

I spent yesterday from about 11 am to 2 am in the kitchen (with a few breaks here and there to enjoy the sunshine/moonlight. I was converting four pounds of the 22 lbs of beef liver that has been hanging out in the icebox into liverwurst. I based my recipe on this one, but with some changes:

1. I used beef liver instead of pork liver. To mellow it, I soaked it in milk overnight (something I recommend for the stronger beef liver).

2. I used pork shoulder roast, instead of pork butt. I do not necessarily recommend this change, as deboning was a pain, and all those muscle attachment points mean more intricate knife work, more waste (although all the waste meat went into the stock pot with the bone, and all the waste fat went into the rendering pot, so very little was really wasted), more tedious calculations (since I bought enough pork fat to match the amount of meat that I thought I had bought, I had to reweigh the fat once I knew how much reliable meat I had from the pork).

3. I used a mix of pimenton dulce with Hungarian paprika.

4. I roasted and ground all my spices.

5. I substituted a smaller amount of fresh nutmeg for mace, as I was out of mace.

6. I used yellow onions instead of white.

7. I added fresh, finely chopped French rue and lovage (both to help balance the beef liver - both were good additions). I used amounts roughly equal to the marjoram.

8. My butcher did not have wide casings, and I was not about to use casings that I had to sew (returning buttons to their rightful place is about the limits of my abilities with needle and thread). I used Saran wrap, tied knots in the ends, wrapped the middle with a fresh piece in the other direction, then stuffed the tubes in the upper parts of clean socks, folded the foot of the sock around and tied the toes to the opening, thus sealing the whole thing (the sock is just to reinforce the Saran wrap casing, which does the work of keeping the water out and the wurst in). I removed the socks after the ice bath and left the plastic casings on. I had no problem with bursting.

They came out great, but a little firmer than liverwurst usually is (more sliceable and less spreadible). The seasoning was good. It was a lot of work, created a lot of mess (the work bowls and the works of the grinder should be cleaned between each of the big grindings - if I were really in anal retentive food lab mode, I would have dipped everything in bleach solution, which is quite literally overkill, but you really do want to clean this stuff between stages). By the end I was tired, my feet hurt, and I was able to go to bed savoring the smell of liverwurst wafting through the house.

This morning I had my first espresso (which reminds me, I am about due for number two, well, actually three, but two needs to come first. What is the matter with me?), and had the courage to peek. What if it tasted bad and my day was lost (not to mention the ingredients)? What if all the people who knew that they were going to have liverwurst foisted on them had to be called and told, "well, it just didn't work out, sorry"? Could I live with the shame? The humiliation?

So I cut the casing on one of them and had a taste on a table water cracker. It was good. It would go well with a dry Riesling (possibly even a sweet wine, as many liver products go well with sauternes) or a crisp and hoppy beer (IPA seems about perfect, although the MacTarnahan's Amber Ale I am currently imbibing is a good fit, too).

Would I recommend this recipe? Only if you have many pounds of liver you need to consume, or if you want to experiment with seasonings and eventually build a better liverwurst. It is time consuming, hard work, involves handling stuff that most people would rather not handle (I know, I am a freak, I actually like playing with organs), and produces a product that is good, but not much different than a well-made commercial product.

On the other hand, it was fun, I have a much better understanding of liverwurst, and there is a good deal of satisfaction in knowing that the log cabin of liverwurst logs in the icebox was made from scratch in my own kitchen.

Next report: beef heart carnitas tacos!

Ox-Tail Soup

I first fell in love with oxtail soup as a child in the Alps. It is especially good on a chilly day, but works fine in warm weather as well. I have recreated it from memory and have arrived at the taste I remember. I am sure that my readers from Tirol will gasp with horror, finding this or that ingredient wrong, and I welcome suggestions, as I would love to have an authentic Tirolean recipe. But in the meantime, I challenge anyone to make it this way and to say that it actually tastes different than what one might find in some remote Alpine Gasthaus.

Today I made it with two beef ox-tails (from our adventure on the ranch - Amalia was quite fascinated with the fact that we were eating the bulls' tails. In fact, she has become quite into all things bovine. We had to read Ferdinand six times today), so if you want a smaller batch, use one tail and scale it back (or use the same ingredients and it will just have less of an oxtail taste and fewer bits of meat in it).

If your butcher stocks whole oxtails, or you killed a couple of bulls and have whole oxtails, they should be cut into approximately one inch rounds. I used a fairly dull cleaver (I have to remember to take it to the knife guy next week), and got through it with only minor aches afterwards (the trick is to use your wrist more than your arm).

On a dinner plate make a generous mound of flour, seasoned with fresh cracked pepper and salt. Flour the chunks of tail and brown them in a large pot with goose fat, lard, or butter (I suppose vegetable oil will work, but I consider it quite inferior). Do not crowd them or juices will prevent proper browning.

When they are all browned, wipe out burned flour bits and add more fat. Gently fry 4 peeled and smashed garlic cloves for about a minute. Add a finely diced onion and fry until it is translucent. Add a mixture of finely diced carrot and celery (about two large carrots and two celery stalks). Throw in the remaining flour from the plate. Fry for a couple of minutes to form a roux.

Add the browned oxtail pieces and stir to coat. Pour in a bottle and a half of sturdy, dry red wine (I used a bottle of Torres Sangre de Toros from Catalunia (the one with the little bull dangling from the foil) and a half bottle of a California Central Coast Sirah), a can (or box, if you use Pomi (highly recommended) strained tomatoes (then pour a splash of sherry in the box or can, swirl and pour in), two bay leaves, broken in quarters, a few sprigs of fresh thyme, a pinch of dry thyme, two heaping teaspoons of Spanish pimenton dulce, a generous amount (a quart at least) of brown stock (I use my "leftover bone" stock, which is made from whatever bones are in the freezer - this one was a mix of lamb, beef (t-bones from barbecue (adds an interesting smokiness), and chicken) and let simmer, skimming every 15 to 30 minutes, for three or more hours. When it nears completion, add a cup of dry sherry and a generous splash of Worcester Sauce. Taste and adjust for salt and pepper (you want a slight warmth on the back of the throat after you have swallowed, not an up-front burn).

When it is right, remove the pieces of tail and, using a very sharp paring knife, remove the meat. Chop the meat (especially if there are tough bits) and set aside. Strain the soup through a chinois, crushing the vegetables so that they exude all that they can. You want a velvety texture.

Put the meat back in the pot, cover with the soup, and bring back to temperature. Finish with more sherry (if needed) and a few dashes of Angostura bitters. If it is too thick, you can cautiously thin with hot water, but be careful, because if you over thin, then you have no choice but to boil and wait (I would not add starch at this point, as it can become too sticky. It already will tend towards stickiness, due to the gelatinous meat and the flour in it, so be careful).

Serve with a salad and French bread. Although I think this is best served with Pilsner, I was out, so we opened a bottle of Sangre de Toro.

For lunch on a cold day, serve with slices of German bologna, schrottbrot, and Swiss Ementhal cheese.

Balsamico Pasta with peas, pancetta and pecorino

On Easter we tried a dried egg pasta that is made with balsamic vinegar. It was delicious. I made it again last night as the primo piatto to a roasted capon (classic French recipe there: stuff with sliced lemon, half a chopped onion, a handful of celery leaves (I used lovage), massage the bird with butter, salt and pepper. Place in 425 degree oven for 15 minutes. Baste. Lower temperature to 350. Baste repeatedly. Around 30 minutes into the cooking, strew onions and carrots around. If they start to burn, moisten with white dry vermouth. Keep basting. When the bird is done, remove it to a board, cover with foil, deglaze roasting pan with cognac, thicken sauce with butter, strain, adjust for seasonings. Serve).

I boiled the pasta and finished it in the following sauce:

Heat extra virgin olive oil. Gently fry a handful of chopped pancetta. Fry a couple of cloves of garlic (peeled). Add fresh English peas. When the pasta is done (al dente please), shave pecorino di sarde over it.

For the leftovers, I made a gratin with butter, cream, garlic, bay leaf, nutmeg, pepper, Sao Jorge Azoran cheese and reggiano parmiggiana. I resisted the temptation to finish it with white truffle oil or even extra virgin olive oil. It was a yummy lunch.

Mojito granita

With the warm weather, I have been thinking more and more about granitas. I made a meyer lemon and Campari granita that was quite nice, as well as the standard granita di caffe (yum). I have a few ripe avocados that must become guacamole, so I bought a bag of limes, more than I need, but limes are good to have around. I was going to have margaritas, but I am out of tequila and will not have a chance to get to Beverages and More where they stock the brand that I like, so I decided to make mojito granita. This is a pre-trial recipe, so be warned. I might change it at after trying it:

Make a strong limeade with lime juice, sugar, water, finely chopped lime zest and finely chopped mint leaves. Allow to freeze in a loaf pan, stirring every hour or half hour, so that you have large crystals instead of a large block of ice. Serve with a splash of rum and a dollop of whipped cream. I will be trying this tomorrow and will report.

Linguine in a clam, green garlic and saffron sauce

Tonight I made what is possibly the best pasta I have ever made. It started as one of those easy, regular standards: the sort of recipe you pull out when you did not get a chance to get to the store (Amalia took a 3 hour nap, so that killed the grocery expedition). Normally I do a very simple sauce of clams, white wine, garlic and parsley. However, not only did I not have anything to make a regular dinner with, I also used the last of my regular garlic yesterday. But I do have a drawer full of green garlic, so I figured I would use that.

It just did not seem right to simply use the green garlic as regular garlic. Certainly the dish would have been good, and the green garlic would have added something a little different, but it just seemed that green garlic demanded something a little better. So I started by sweating about six heads of green garlic (I use the heads with about two or three inches of the stalk, depending on the color, split lengthwise into quarters) in about three Tablespoons of unsalted cultured butter, a generous splash of water, a pinch of salt and a dash of white wine vinegar. I let it all simmer at very low heat in a covered saute pan. After 10 minutes, I transferred the whole mess to the food processor (or blender) and pureed it. In the same pan I sauteed two cans of minced clams in a Tablespoon of unsalted cultured butter (reserving the juice from the cans). After a minute or two, I added the clam juice, a shot of pastis (you could use Pernod, anisette, or Arak, too), the garlic puree, and a pinch of saffron and let the whole thing reduce. When the linguine neared the halfway point, I added about a half a cup of heavy cream to the sauce and let it thicken. I finished the pasta in the sauce and topped it with fresh chopped parsley and a sparse sprinkling of thinly sliced green garlic stocks. We served it with a Chateau Ste. Michelle Columbia Valley Johannesberg Riesling (a good wine, but too sweet for my taste. I would have prefered Bonny Doon's exceptional Pacific Rim Riesling).

I think I could live on this pasta alone for a long time.

Polpette di lesso

I may have posted this before, but it merits reposting, since it is such a good basic idea. You have to understand that Italians are cheapskates. We let the Scottish get the blame, because it is always fun to point the finger at someone else, but when it comes down to it, we give them a run for their money. We are instinctively opposed to wasting food. Back in the living memory of my family, we simply could not afford to waste anything.

Because the main ingredients for food were scarce, but not the things that make them tasty (garlic, herbs, etc.), we have some amazing recipes for leftovers. They are so good that folks now make dishes just to use them in our leftover recipes. These meatballs are a good example of that.

Most meatballs are made from raw meat. These, however, were designed to come up with a good way of using cooked meat, from a leftover roast or some other dish.

Tonight I did them with leftover leg of lamb (and, yes, the bones are right now simmering in the stock pot for lamb stock - good for lamb sausage risotto).

I am giving you the recipe for what I did tonight, but it can be done with any cooked meat (and even mixed meat. I have had good results with chicken, pork and beef mixed up with leftover sausage and whatever meat sauces I had sitting around - beurre rouge is particularly good in these).

I started by chopping the leftover lamb, including bits that were a little tough, but could be chopped fine enough to overcome any residual toughness. I also boiled a few red potatoes (any waxy variety will do, and a russett will do in a pinch). Normally I mash the potatoes, but this time I left chunks. They went in the mixing bowl with the chopped lamb. I added the finely chopped zest of a meyer lemon (Eureka, Lisbon, or any other will do fine), the same herbs I used in roasting the lamb, a couple of eggs, a generous amount of grated reggiano parmigiana, some crushed garlic, a little bit of pan juices and fat from the lamb sausages we had the other night, and some fresh cracked pepper.

While I did not use sage in the roast leg of lamb, there is something about that flavor that is essential in these meatballs. In fact, they can be done with just sage, if that is all you have or want to use. I kneaded the mixture to make it as even as it would be.

I made little balls (more ovoid, kind of like owl turds), coated them in breadcrumbs, and fried them gently in olive oil. When done, they can be sprinkled with a little sea salt. I served them with a simple green salad and a Bourdeaux (I would have served Nerello del Bastardo or a Super Tuscan, but I changed my mind when I saw this particular wine in the wine "cellar" - a humble closet under the staircase).

For a simple meal to use up leftover meat, these cannot be beat.

Roasted Leg of Lamb in an Herb Mustard Crust

I was going to roast the leg of lamb over potatoes, onions and tomatoes, but looked at the menu and thought it all too starchy. So I opted for a classic method, but improved it with some interesting herbs.

I like a 9 lb leg. It tends to have better flavor and roasts better than the typical 5-6 lb legs. You need a good-sized roasting pan for a 9 pounder. I had my butcher saw off about three inches (save that bone for lamb stock!), and it still had to go slightly diagonally to fit.

I went out to the herb garden and picked fresh rue, Greek oregano, thyme, lovage, winter savory, lemon balm and rosemary. I should have added a few lavender blossoms and taragon, but I forgot the lavender and did not have any taragon. I chopped the herbs finely and made them into a paste with crushed garlic, Dijon mustard, fresh cracked pepper and olive oil. I trimmed the leg of most of its fat and the silver skin and rubbed the paste all over it. I let it sit at room temperature for about 30 minutes and put it in a preheated 325 degree oven. When it hit the desired temperature, I removed it and let it sit for 15 minutes on the cutting board. I carved it the long way and served it with sauteed scorzanero and a Folie a Deux Amador County Zinfandel.

Pork Tenderloin Pseudo Cinghiale

If you can get a wild boar (cinghiale) tenderloin, use it. Otherwise a good domestic hog tenderloin will do.

About half an hour to an hour before cooking, rub it with a mix of:

Ground Cinnamon
Ground Allspice
Fresh Cracked Pepper
Lavender salt
dried thyme
a crushed clove of garlic
finely chopped bay leaf.

Dice a small onion, a carrot and a stalk of celery. Rehydrate a handful of dried wild mushrooms.

In a hot skillet, melt some butter and gently fry the onion. After a minute or two add the carrots and celery. After another couple of minutes, add the pork and brown it on all sides. When the last side comes up, add the drained mushrooms (reserving the juice). Add a few juniper berries. Stir it up.

Add a generous amount of dry white wine, and a good splash of balsamico. Throw in some fresh thyme, the strained mushroom juice, and a couple of bay leaves. Lower the heat to a simmer and cover.

Meanwhile, toast a handful of pine nuts. When they are done, transfer to a bowl and sprinkle with gin.

When the meat has simmered for half an hour, add the pine nuts with their gin, a handful of sultanas, a handful of chopped pitted prunes and a generous splash of dry marsala. Let the pork cook to an internal temperature of 150 or 160 degrees (normally I stop pork at 140, but you want the more done flavor here).

Remove pork to a cutting board, cover with foil and turn up heat on sauce. Let it thicken. Thinly slice pork and serve covered with sauce. Serve with a good dry red wine (I served Nerello del Bastardo, of which I have spoken in length, I believe), a simple salad, and the roasted potatoes mentioned below.

Finish your meal with a shot of Rebel Yell bourbon, a shot of grappa, or a shot of nocino. Yum.

Slapstick is only funny when it's a third degree burn

Yesterday I made out the week's menus. Tonight was to be pork chops and homemade apple sauce (Sunday is a meat day and I have some overripe Pink Lady apples). Unfortunately Trader Joe's did not have pork chops, so I bought a pork tenderloin. I normally don't buy tenderloin, because it is expensive and I rarely have a recipe in mind that does it justice. But it was the only pig available yesterday, so I bought one.

That is not the point of the post, though. I will post a recipe for my pork tenderloin pseudo cinghiale, but that will be later. Suffice to say that pork tenderloin pseudo cinghiale must be accompanied with roasted potatoes.

I bought a bag that had three varieties of potatoes: purple, red and gold. All waxy potatoes, small, perfect bombs of subterranean delight (OK, I admit that is hyperbole. I never have been a huge fan of potatoes - but then I married one of these Irish (well half Irish) and she eats the things like they are going out of style, which, in Adkins land, is probably true). But roasted potatoes with rosemary and garlic is a Tuscan delight, one of the few ways we will eat the things.

You start the potato chunks on the stove. Heat up some goose fat, toast three whole cloves of garlic, add your potatoes and some chopped fresh rosemary. Coat the potatoes and transfer to a 375 degree oven and turn when you remember until they are done.

The potatoes were done so I grabbed a potholder and opened the oven. About one inch of palm was not covered by the potholder. Said inch was part of the hand that was supporting the weight of a large cast iron skillet full of Irish love bombs. In recognition of this, said hand recoiled, dropping skillet full of Irish love bombs and getting tangled in 375 degree oven rack. Fortunately feet were in Pele mode and managed to avoid hot skillet and cascading Irish love bombs.

Fortunately feet were in such Pele mode that cook did not topple over on top of open oven rack with hot pizza stone and managed to untangle hand from 375 degree oven rack.

Fortunately the nature of third degree burns is that the nerve endings are quite amply singed so pain is not immediate. Cook then puts skillet on stove, gathers errant potatoes, then runs hand under cold, running water.

Playing back this movie in cook's head was quite funny, in spite of tears welling up due to excrutiating pain in hand. Bearded six footers mishandling skillets and dancing around hot cascade of potatoes with hand stuck in oven are inherently funny. I may be a cruel SOB, but I still think the sight is kind of funny. Even though my hand hurts.

Anyway, the dinner was great, if I do say so myself. The potatoes were finished on the stove with a sprinking of olive oil and sea salt.

However, that is not the recipe I am posting with this. Instead, let me offer you something medicinal.

If you have three regions of third degree burns on both sides of your hand and have to get dinner together because you simply cannot trust anyone else in the house to do it correctly, you will need something stronger than witch hazel, preferably in the potable category. Might I suggest a Venetian Martini?

Now, the true Venetian Martini, as served at Cesar's in Berkeley is gin, red vermouth, and Antico Formula. I do not have Antico Formula, so I use a dash of Cynar. It works fine. Perhaps I should call this a Pisano Martini.

Chill a martini glass with ice water.
In a shaker full of ice (ice feels great on recent third degree burns, by the way), add two shots of gin (preferably Beefeaters or one of the B gins - you want the kick of juniper and the 10 botanicals of Sapphire will get lost), a shot of red vermouth and a capful of Cynar. Shake until well chilled (use your hand with the third degree burns, as the icy shaker feels very nice). Pour the ice water out of the martini glass and add three twists of orange and a Fabbri or Toschi candied cherry with a little syrup. Strain the drink into the glass.

It tastes great, is a lovely aperativo, and helps you ignore the third degree burns.

With dinner, drink ample red wine and finish the meal with a shot of an after dinner drink. I guarantee that you will not feel the third degree burns. Well, you will, but they will not bother you nearly as much as they would otherwise. Just do not drink so much that you forget to drink a ton of water and forget to put some Aloe pulp or Aloe gel on the burns. And whatever you do, don't put a fluffy dressing on them. That will cause you immense grief in the morning. If you cook as much as I do, you know that from one bad experience.

Baccala Cakes

I have not posted a recipe for awhile, so here you go:

Rehydrate a package of salt cod (I think I had about a pound and a half) by soaking in several changes of water for 24 to 48 hours.

Chop half of it and puverize the other half in a food processor.

Add to it a finely diced shallot, three cloves of crushed garlic, the zest of one (preferably Meyer) lemon, the juice of said lemon, fresh cracked pepper, a pinch of cayenne, a generous pinch of chopped fresh thyme, and a mixture of four eggs and some cream. Mix well. Form into cakes and coat with pannko (Japanese bread crumbs - although you could use European, they just are heavier) and fry in butter.

Drain on paper towels.

Arrange the cakes on a serving platter, decorate with thinly sliced lemon and sprinkle liberally with chopped Italian parsley. Serve with garlicy green salad, baguette and a dry white wine (pinot grigio, orvietto classico, something like that).

That is what we had last night. I am thinking that I might experiment with adding capers or pickled Italian vegetables to the mix.

Simple Fish Dish

Heat some extra virgin olive oil in a pan. Gently fry three large cloves of garlic, thinly sliced. Add a can of tomatoes, a generous splash of dry white wine, a pinch of dried oregano, a pinch of dried mint, a pinch of dried thyme, a couple of generous pinches of red chili flakes, a couple of turns of the pepper cracker, and a bay leaf. Bring to a boil and reduce to a simmer.

Put on your rice in the rice cooker.

When the rice cooker clicks, put cod fillets in the sauce. After two minutes turn them over. Cook for another 11 minutes. In the last five minutes of cooking add a generous amount of capers and salt to taste.

Serve fish and sauce over rice with a dry white wine (Pinot grigio or Orvieto Classico) and crusty French bread. Garnish with lemon slices and a sprig of fresh thyme, if you are feeling fancy.

Manhattens

Someone has found this blog searching for "Manhattens with alcohol." I asked Melanie, "what, pray tell, is a virgin Manhatten? A cherry in a martini glass?"

My great uncle Dinky (Americanization of Dinko, the Slavonian nickname for Dominic) was a great barkeep in his day. He gave me his recipe, although I have changed it based on other authorities and my own preference. Here is the family recipe for a Manhatten:

2 shots bourbon (or rye, preferably)
1 shot sweet red vermouth
2 dashes angostura bitters
a dollop of the syrup from Toschi or Fabbri candied sour cherries
1 cherry.

Put the liquid ingredients in a shaker with cracked ice and shake vigorously. Strain into a chilled martini glass with the cherry.

For a dry Manhatten:

2 shots bourbon or rye
1 shot extra dry vermouth
2 dashes bitters
1 olive or twist

Same procedure as the sweet.

I am not drinking anything stronger than vermouth or campari during Lent (except on Sundays), so for me these will have to wait until Easter. Manhattens are a great pre-dinner cocktail.

Nocino recipe

This recipe is for future use, because you will not be able to get the green walnuts until mid-summer. Traditionally you will want to pick them in the morning of the Feast of St. John the Baptist. You will need 21 nuts per batch. They should be green, picked before the shells develop. You wipe them clean, but do not wash them. Quarter them and put them in 4 1/2 cups of vodka or grappa (preferred, but expensive) along with a few whole cloves, a small stick of cinnamon, the zest of an orange (be careful to remove all the pith), a branch of fresh, cultivated juniper (about the size of your finger - broken, not cut, and from a juniper that is out of spraying reach of local cats). Let it sit in the sun for 40 days, shaking every third day. Note that when you are handling the nuts, everything they touch will turn brown, including your hands for a few days, even with a lot of washing. The fluid in the jar will start to look like motor oil. Filter the extract into a large bowl through cheesecloth.

Make a simple syrup of 2 cups sugar and 1 1/4 cups water (bring to a boil, stirring. Skim the surface and simmer for ten minutes). Allow to thoroughly cool. Add the filtered base back to the jar with the syrup and the juniper branch. Leave the stuff in the jar until Christmas, removing the juniper around All Souls Day. At Christmas, filter the stuff again and let it sit until at least Easter. Bottle and wait until next Christmas to drink it.

When you remove the walnuts, cover them in sweet Marsala and let them sit for a month. Use this Marsala as an aperatif. Use the walnuts in homemade spumoni.

Be warned. Nocino will stain anything it touches. Be careful when bottling.

Questions? Ask and I shall answer.

Risotto pizze

Whenever I make risotto, I make about double what I am going to serve, although I am not that crazy about reheated risotto (maybe the first day, but it gets pretty gummy that way). However, one can make it into discs, dip it in a light batter and fry it in olive oil. Then top it with whatever toppings you want, heat it in a 400 degree oven and enjoy.

Another good way to enjoy leftover risotto is to make it into little balls, poke your finger to the center and stuff with prosciutto and provolone, seal, dip in batter, breadcrumbs and fry in olive oil.

Or, you can make a risotto torte, in a pastry crust with layers of braised greens and cheese (or egg/milk/cheese like a quiche). If it is a saffron risotto, try topping with shrimp and crab (and, if you have it and want to go over the top a bit, finish with lobster oil). For the crust, I would recommend using a standard savory crust made with fresh rendered lard.

It is good to know these things, because it is not much more expensive and certainly no more time consuming to make a double batch of risotto when you make it, and these leftover dishes are almost as good as a bowl of steaming risotto. Amalia gives her endorsement to the risotto pizza, provided it is generously painted with Italian sausage or Spanish chorizo.

Duck Confit

This weekend I am making duck confit. Since I am using someone else's recipe (in this case Alice Waters' from the Chez Panisse Cafe cookbook), I am not going to post it verbatim. Go out and buy this exceptional book! Confit is basically an old way of preserving meat: salt and season the meat overnight, then slowly cook the moisture out in a crock of fat (in this case goose fat). Since you do it at low temperature you can reuse the fat, either for other cooking (it will be salty, unlike pure rendered fat), or to make another batch of confit. Since we have modern means of preserving meat (freezers and the like), it is something that is only done for the aesthetic reason of having yummy confit. It does keep much longer than raw or simply cooked meat, so it does make a great convenience food. Twenty minutes max on day one, then it cooks slowly with a minimum of supervision on day two for an hour and a half. To heat it, you toss it in a hot skillet for five minutes on each side, and you have a yummy meal (that is especially good in cold weather).

Since Waters' recipe calls for just duck legs, I went to my favorite poultry shop and bought legs. If I had to buy whole ducks, then I would have either made the breasts into confit, or would have made duck breast prosciutto, which is a great treat to have on hand. I was surprised at how cheap it was to buy a big bag of duck legs with thighs attached. Since it is so rich and can last so long as confit, I think that I am going to make a policy of always having a crock of it on hand.

One can eat it traditionally, or one can make rillettes, or one can make amazing tacos with it:

Take your chopped duck confit and add a chopped chipotle pepper with plenty of its adobo sauce. Add some onion, some toasted and ground cumin seeds and heat it on the skillet. Put it on heated corn tortillas (don't fry them, for a more authentic taste), top with salsa, chopped onion, pieces of avocado (or a dollop of homemade guacamole: avocado, onion, lime juice, salt, maybe some salsa for color and flavor and cilantro) and cilantro. Serve with beer or margaritas.

For margaritas, I use a good 100% blue agave tequila (usually reposada), the juice of a freshly squeezed lime, triple sec (or Grand Marnier for a special occasion). I shake it on cracked ice and serve it straight up in glasses whose rims have been coated with lime juice and a light dusting of Comarguese sea salt. Once you have a margarita like that you can never go back to a mix, to non-100% agave tequila (like that awful Cuervo), or those wretched slushies that pose for margaritas among the chimichanga set. For a very special occasion you can float a layer of Grand Marnier on top of the ladie's drinks. Men should not do that on their own drinks, however, as that is very girly.

After duck confit tacos, the dessert should be simple, as the dish is so rich. I find that mango sorbet or gelato does the trick.

Sausage and Two Buck Chuck

The sausage shop in the Housewives Marketplace in Oakland makes great Italian sausages. Today for lunch I browned them (in their casings) on a cast iron skillet with a slight brushing of olive oil, then poured in a generous amount of Charles Shaw "Gamay Beaujolais" and covered, cooking on low heat until the sausages were done and the moisture was almost all cooked out of the pan. Yum.

Charles Shaw makes lower-mediocre wines, when it really comes down to it. They cost $2 and that is about what they are worth, but for certain cooking purposes they are fantastic. And, I have to say, as an accompaniment to a simple lunch of sausages and cheese (Danish fontina for me, String cheese for Amalia), and simple salad, the Beaujolais (which is 75% pinot noir) was fine. At $2 a bottle, it was magnificent. Of course we are finally seeing some great deals on decent table wine. I have been paying $5.99 a bottle for a red that tastes like a cross between a Super Tuscan and a Super Piemontese. When I can get wine this good at this price, it takes the charm out of Two Buck Chuck.

However, the fact that we have so many inexpensive and decent table wines is very good indeed. I remember when good, cheap wine was rare, with very little choice (of course those were the days when the Boomers were guzzling that wretched white zinfandel) if you did find a place that carried some. Then there was a period when the price of even rather modest wines went up fairly steeply (Big House Red for over $10 a bottle?!? Don't get me wrong, I love all of Bonny Doon's wines, and this one in particular (we served it at our wedding), but Big House Red was one of those great $6 staples, and to pay $10+ for it smarts). But now, thanks to outlandish overplanting, the prices are becoming good again.

Of course farmers will tear out their vines, and the whole thing starts over again, without the benefit of the old vine base that would have been in place were it not for the strangeness of the market. One thing that I am bracing for is the onslaught of horrid Merlots (I actually had a "white" merlot at a tasting a few years back - yuck). I never could understand why people liked this varietal, as it has always been a blending wine. Once in awhile I will encounter a merlot with some character, but usually they are fairly insipid wines.

Experimental Food Report

I made the persimmon panna cotta, and it was quite satisfactory, although I probably should have been more thorough in blending the whipped cream into the gelatin cream. Since you will probably not be able to find persimmons until next fall, if you want to do this, I would recommend doing it with canned pumpkin:

I started with about a cup of cooked persimmon puree. I heated it up and added dry marsala, cinnamon, allspice, and freshly grated nutmeg. After it had cooked down, I cooled it and added a packet of gelatin. Then, I added about 3/4 of a cup of cream and heated it back up (but not to boiling, as that disturbs the gelatin). With the remaining cream from the pint (about a cup and a quarter), I added just under a half a cup of sugar, a dash of vanilla extract, and whipped it to stiff peaks.

After the first cream had cooled, I folded them in and put the mixture in a mold, which I then chilled. It was very good, but was definitely in two layers, which, if taken in a single bite were a good balance. I think next time I will work to get the two layers bound together better.

Lasagna

I believe that I posted my recipe for veal lasagna before, but tonight I did a variation on it that was interesting, but not entirely to my liking.

The lasagna is built on a base of ground veal, browned in butter with a hint of garlic, then cooked with marsala, goose stock (or brown chicken stock) and cream, with grated nutmeg and fresh cracked pepper. To this I add a generous amount of strained ricotta.

The other layer is short braised greens, which I described below. Normally I prefer mustard or collard greens, but all I could get was chard. It worked OK, but I missed the spiciness of the other greens.

Then I use a mixture of melting cheese (gruyere, emmental, fontina, mozzarella or a combination of them) and reggiano parmeggiano.

For the pasta, I use fresh sheets, so I don't have to boil them. In layering I start with the meat mixture (in a buttered dish), then greens, then cheese, then fresh cracked pepper and a drizzling of cream (creme fraiche is better), then a layer of pasta. The top layer should be cheese, because it browns nicely.

The lasagna was good, but would have been better with creme fraiche and spicier greens. I served it with a salad of heart of romaine, braised bosc pairs, blue gouda, and toasted walnuts. For dressing I made a standard vinegar/mustard/olive oil dressing, but added the boiled down braising liquid from the pairs. I highly recommend this salad for winter evenings.

I served all of this with Est! Est! Est! white wine.

Persimmon panna cotta

I had a box of fuyu persimmons that were getting too soft, so I cooked them into orange goo. I think I will add marsala and turn them into a panna cotta (one cup of heated cream, with some gelatin solution added, with the goo and a touch of sugar, mixed then folded into a cup of whipped cream, then allowed to set in a mold). I will report on the results and will offer corrections.

Mea Culpa and a recipe

I have been without Internet access for the last week, which is why I have been scarce. However, I am back and will post on food, music, Californian politics, and the lot.

The other day I made a roasted capon, which was really worth describing. Capon is the best form of chicken that I know. It is what turkey would be if turkey had not been so debased by bad breeding. I used the classic French method, although I do not believe in trussing birds, as it is a lot of work that adds nothing to the dish. I do not truss my geese, my ducks, my chickens, nor my capons. I might sew up the cavity if the stuffing is too copious, but as to tying the wings down and all of that, forget it. Waste of time. If anyone is that offended by wings that stick out, they should stick with tofurkey or whatever ungodly creation is on hand as a food substitute.

Anyway, I dried the bird (another secret: washing them is not that essential - most restaurants do not do this, as you are sticking the thing in a hot oven anyway), rubbed it with salt, pepper and a liberal massaging of unsalted, cultured butter, stuffed it with a sliced lemon, half a sliced onion, and a handful of celery or lovage leaves and browned it for 15 minutes in a 425 degree oven. I lowered the heat to 350 and added a couple of chopped carrots and the other half of the onion, chopped (although I should have sliced it).

When it was roasted through, I let it cool on my cutting board, removed the burnt onion pieces from the pan and deglazed with cognac. Then I thickened the sauce with butter, finished it with port and poured it over the carved meat. Yum.

Roast chicken is a traditional Sunday meal in my family's region of Italy. I recommend this tradition highly. I served this one with short braised collard greens (heat olive oil or goose gat, add diced pancetta and a couple of peeled cloves of garlic, then saute the greens, adding fennel seed and diced truffled (or not) anchovies, then pour in some dry vermouth or white wine and finish cooking covered on low heat, finish to taste with salt and pepper) and a salad.

For dessert I braised Bosc pairs in red wine with a touch of sugar and a length of vanilla seed and served them hot with chopped toasted walnuts, crumbled Irish farmhouse blue cheese and a drizzling of creme fraiche.