so if you go to pigalle.com, it's a porn site. pigalle is also a restaurant in boston, and according to a summer issue of Food & Wine magazine, Marc Orfaly, its chef, is the best new chef in the country (or something like that). this is what happened when i went looking for the address of pigalle, where holly, v + i had a dinner reservation this past evening. i thought it was 75 charles street, and just ignored the "south" on the end of the address. silly me - 75 charles street is not in the south theater district, nor is it pigalle. it's apartments. anyway, we found this out, and took a taxi for a quick ride to the actual restaurant, which is a 10-15 minute walk from the park street T station.
this week was restaurant week; i wonder how many restaurants were in pigalle's situation: that is, where they actually extended their restaurant week special due to high demand. our reservation is for saturday at 7:30, an excellent time for dinner, and the restaurant fills during the evening.
the awning of the restaurant is green, and has a small en plein air, or outdoor area. i might be biased, but it looks like it belongs somewhere that's not the usa. walking into the front room yields some potted mums that look like they're in transit to somewhere else. upon entering the actual dining room, we see a conventional layout: bar at the door for waiting guests, tables arranged along the windowed wall, and scattered throughout the rest of the (small) room. i would say that the restaurant seats about 40-50 people. the walls and ceilings are done in dark, muted colors, which feel comfortable. the lighting is perfect, as is the temperature - cool, but not with an air-conditioned feel.
after waiting for about five minutes, we're presented with menus and a query: bottled water or tap water? we choose tap water; later i notice that the bottled water is still voss water. i wonder if anyone is gauche enough to ask for the bottle. the resturant week menu is posted on one side, and i've put it in my webspace. the appetizers were really what attracted me; the main courses were really the staple main courses. v chose the eggplant terrine, the mushroom risotto, and the peach tarte tatin; holly chose the tomato soup, mushroom risotto, and peach tarte tatin; and i chose the duck livers, steak frites, and milk chocolate panna cotta. i also got a glass of wine to go with my meal - a cotes du rhone at the recommendation of our waiter.
the meal was really marked by really good service, and really good pacing. our waiter was great - not pretentious, and very sincere. it was the type of service where you know it's coming, but it's done in such a way that you don't really notice. dunno how they accomplish that; it was quite a feat in my book. rarely do you get both good food and good service at the same time.
the appetizers were quite good. i think the eggplant terrine was pretty good, but the red pepper layer dominated too much. holly's soup was absolutely adorable, with the miniature grilled cheese in the bottom of the plate with the soup poured over it, like they do in really fancy restaurants (ie, bring out the tureen and ladle it into the empty bowl). the duck liver and risotto was fantastic, though - the livers weren't tough, the risotto was possibly the best thing i could have started dinner with. restaurant risotto always seems to be more liquidy than i like it, but it wasn't a problem this evening because it tasted so good.
a pause between the appetizers and the main course was filled by another roll. shortly after we were finished, our main courses came out of the kitchen. the mushroom risotto was green with brown mushrooms around the edges of the bowl, and the steak frites was sliced, peppercorned, and presented with a huge mound of parmesan-dusted frites and a small copper pot of creamed spinach (by small, i mean ~1 cup). The risotto was fabulous, like the one i'd had with my appetizer...i have no idea why it was green. the steak - which i ordered "somewhere between medium rare and rare" - was fabulous, though it was a bit too peppercorn-y. the wine went surprisingly well with the steak; i think i thought that all of those people who tout the red meat and red wine pairing were just hyping it up. the creamed spinach had a good balance of cream and spinach, with another unidentifiable flavor that i thought was nutmeg, and that v thought was some sort of nuts.
the main course was followed by another pause, then dessert. the pause - i don't know how they know these things - was just right; not too long, not too short. the peach tarte tatin was great, though a bit sweet. after some thought, i've decided that i liked the basil in the tart. it definitely gave it a more vegetal flavor; a bit too much, possibly, but it had the same effect as mint would have - it contrasted the peach taste - which is warm - with the cooler flavor. the panna cotta was fabulous; i think the fruit and the fruit sorbet were unnecessary, but since they were there i ate some of them. i've never seen such gorgeous blackberries; i don't even like them but i ate them because they looked so good. the panna cotta, in texture, resembled what i read about blancmange in "little women" - it slipped down my throat. in taste, it was quite good - very chocolaty, and perfectly milk chocolaty.
anyway, another high point of the evening was that i never felt that we were rushed; we could have stayed there all night. i also felt that we were surrounded by lots of waitstaff, at the appropriate times, even though there probably weren't that many waitstaff throughout the entire restaurant. i would say that this is probably the best restaurant i've ever been to in boston.
29 août 2004
happenstance cooking
so on monday, natalia suggested an excellent idea for a potluck. the concept was this: each person would bring an ingredient and we would cook things with what we ended up with, for better or for worse. josh and carrie gave v + me a ride to natalia's apartment on western ave, stopping by whole foods, where as usual we wanted to buy everything in the store but didn't have the funds necessary. the things we amassed: sage, savory, heirloom tomatoes, corn, shallots, bell peppers, coconut milk, white peaches, boneless, skinless chicken thighs, and cod.
i think the key to this kind of party is to have people go shopping on their own - so what people bring is really a surprise. for us, it was more that we cooked dinner together, which was certainly lots of fun anyway. we ended up with caramelised corn and shallots, peach-tomato relish/salsa, cod with cajun seasoning, chicken with savory, mushrooms, and onions, and lots of natalia's excellent bread. when mary arrived, she asked the same question we asked: "where did you get the bread?"
i really have to admit that savory isn't a great herb to cook with. it's reminiscent of green stuff, but it's a rather weak taste and if you were to smell it, you wouldn't really be able to place its smell. kind of like grass, kind of like wet leaves in the springtime, kind of like sage (but that's probably because sage is the other herb i'd bought). i suppose the right word to describe its smell would be "verdant," if that makes any sense. on the other hand, i used the sage a few days later with pork chops - pan fried, with a sauce made with the fond, a whole lot of port wine, onions, and mushrooms - and it was fabulous. one of the great herb-meat pairings is definitely pork and sage. it's entirely possible that i might be able to cook pork chops now, too, to the right amount of tenderness.
going back to our potluck...it was capped by an excellent birthday cake that natalia's parents bought her, at concord teacakes. i had no idea that concord teacakes made cakes, though i suppose it's kind of obvious from the name of the store. i've had lunch there, but never paid that much attention to the fancy stuff there. the cake was a chocolate cake layered with chocolate mousse, with a ganache frosting and all sorts of lovely truffles on top. served with the cake was mango sorbet and fresh raspberries from the market in central square - the raspberries were probably the best i've seen this summer.
pork chops with a sage-port wine reduction
2-3 thick-cut, boneless pork chops
olive oil or butter
1-2 cups diced onions
1 cup mushrooms, sliced thin (that small package, 6 oz, is it?)
3 cups port wine (this makes for a sweeter sauce; use 1-2 cups wine for a less sweet sauce)
2-3T minced sage (1/3 to 1/2 a package)
[1] Heat a 3T oil or butter in a pan (I recommend butter) over medium-high heat. Place the pork chops in the pan (which should be NOT nonstick) and cook 5-6 minutes each side. Remove with tongs to a plate or bowl and tent with foil.
[2] Add the onions to the skillet and saute until cooked through and translucent. Add the port wine (add the wine sooner if the pan starts to get too brown). Use a rubber spatula to scrape up the fond as the wine comes to a boil. Simmer until the sauce is reduced and thickened slightly (to the consistency of a cream soup). After the wine has simmered for about 10 minutes, add the sage. Somewhere in there add the mushrooms, and just let them cook through (it shouldn't take more than 5 minutes or so).
[3] Return the pork chops to the skillet and let the sauce absorb in the each side briefly. Plate the chops, add sauce, and serve.
i think the key to this kind of party is to have people go shopping on their own - so what people bring is really a surprise. for us, it was more that we cooked dinner together, which was certainly lots of fun anyway. we ended up with caramelised corn and shallots, peach-tomato relish/salsa, cod with cajun seasoning, chicken with savory, mushrooms, and onions, and lots of natalia's excellent bread. when mary arrived, she asked the same question we asked: "where did you get the bread?"
i really have to admit that savory isn't a great herb to cook with. it's reminiscent of green stuff, but it's a rather weak taste and if you were to smell it, you wouldn't really be able to place its smell. kind of like grass, kind of like wet leaves in the springtime, kind of like sage (but that's probably because sage is the other herb i'd bought). i suppose the right word to describe its smell would be "verdant," if that makes any sense. on the other hand, i used the sage a few days later with pork chops - pan fried, with a sauce made with the fond, a whole lot of port wine, onions, and mushrooms - and it was fabulous. one of the great herb-meat pairings is definitely pork and sage. it's entirely possible that i might be able to cook pork chops now, too, to the right amount of tenderness.
going back to our potluck...it was capped by an excellent birthday cake that natalia's parents bought her, at concord teacakes. i had no idea that concord teacakes made cakes, though i suppose it's kind of obvious from the name of the store. i've had lunch there, but never paid that much attention to the fancy stuff there. the cake was a chocolate cake layered with chocolate mousse, with a ganache frosting and all sorts of lovely truffles on top. served with the cake was mango sorbet and fresh raspberries from the market in central square - the raspberries were probably the best i've seen this summer.
pork chops with a sage-port wine reduction
2-3 thick-cut, boneless pork chops
olive oil or butter
1-2 cups diced onions
1 cup mushrooms, sliced thin (that small package, 6 oz, is it?)
3 cups port wine (this makes for a sweeter sauce; use 1-2 cups wine for a less sweet sauce)
2-3T minced sage (1/3 to 1/2 a package)
[1] Heat a 3T oil or butter in a pan (I recommend butter) over medium-high heat. Place the pork chops in the pan (which should be NOT nonstick) and cook 5-6 minutes each side. Remove with tongs to a plate or bowl and tent with foil.
[2] Add the onions to the skillet and saute until cooked through and translucent. Add the port wine (add the wine sooner if the pan starts to get too brown). Use a rubber spatula to scrape up the fond as the wine comes to a boil. Simmer until the sauce is reduced and thickened slightly (to the consistency of a cream soup). After the wine has simmered for about 10 minutes, add the sage. Somewhere in there add the mushrooms, and just let them cook through (it shouldn't take more than 5 minutes or so).
[3] Return the pork chops to the skillet and let the sauce absorb in the each side briefly. Plate the chops, add sauce, and serve.
high tea @ columbia
our tea party was actually about 13 days ago, but i suddenly got so busy at work that i didn't need to kill time by writing in my blog (imagine that). it was unfortunately quite hot the day of our tea party, though it has nothing on today's humidity. however, it was cooler in the morning when i woke up to make muffins and two cakes: mini muffins to fulfill our "oscar wilde/english country" theme, the cardamom cake that miriam's boss made, and that she really liked, and a cake made with muscat wine.
skipping to the end of cooking, which was fairly uneventful save for a few muffins that were kind of....hard and brown... the beaumes-de-venise cake was pretty good - redolent with the wine. it also had grapes in it. it was moister than pound cake, and a bit heavy, but i liked the flavor. i think those who like wine better would like it more than we did at the tea party. the cardamom cake, though, was a hit. it's a pretty regular cake, made with buttermilk for moisture, and cardamom for flavor. the cake is brown, and looks kind of unappetizing when it comes out of the oven. however, before pouring the batter in the pans you scatter sugar and chopped pecans on the bottoms of them, so when the cakes come out of the pan they have this great candied pecan crust on them. the cake gets filled with whipped cream mixed with fresh raspberries, and then more whipped cream and berries go on top. it looked really good, and tasted darn good as well - the combination of flavors is definitely what made it so good. muffins were...well, muffins. they were plain, to be more british, and were intended to be spread with butter or jam. or, spread with butter and sprinkled with sugar, which is my strange preference for bread type things like rolls. i suppose people are so used to american-style muffins - flavored muffins - that they didn't realize that they should eat them with jam.
in addition to the baked goods, we had v's deviled eggs and mary's cucumber sandwiches, some sliced apples and honey, and calissons which carrie had brought us from france. mmm...
skipping to the end of cooking, which was fairly uneventful save for a few muffins that were kind of....hard and brown... the beaumes-de-venise cake was pretty good - redolent with the wine. it also had grapes in it. it was moister than pound cake, and a bit heavy, but i liked the flavor. i think those who like wine better would like it more than we did at the tea party. the cardamom cake, though, was a hit. it's a pretty regular cake, made with buttermilk for moisture, and cardamom for flavor. the cake is brown, and looks kind of unappetizing when it comes out of the oven. however, before pouring the batter in the pans you scatter sugar and chopped pecans on the bottoms of them, so when the cakes come out of the pan they have this great candied pecan crust on them. the cake gets filled with whipped cream mixed with fresh raspberries, and then more whipped cream and berries go on top. it looked really good, and tasted darn good as well - the combination of flavors is definitely what made it so good. muffins were...well, muffins. they were plain, to be more british, and were intended to be spread with butter or jam. or, spread with butter and sprinkled with sugar, which is my strange preference for bread type things like rolls. i suppose people are so used to american-style muffins - flavored muffins - that they didn't realize that they should eat them with jam.
in addition to the baked goods, we had v's deviled eggs and mary's cucumber sandwiches, some sliced apples and honey, and calissons which carrie had brought us from france. mmm...
13 août 2004
august flies by...
goodness, another week just flies by...it's hard to believe that I'll be back in school again; it's that dilemma where you're really excited about everything but the immense amounts of work looming ahead. I have to admit that I haven't cooked anything particularly interesting this week, due mostly to the weather (excessively humid). I did make some apple crisp on wednesday, when mika cooked dinner for us at lmf.
that's a mini-food story on its own, though. trips to harvest are always an adventure. it's probably good that it feels like it's farther away than the 2 blocks it really is. I went there intending to buy apples and butter for the apple crisp, and emerged with some nice, big organic apples (granny smith, which were an abnormally darkish green, and gala), butter, some erivan yogurt with a granola packet, fresh mozzarella, and some heirloom tomatoes. I must say that I wasn't particularly impressed with the tomatoes, although the mozzarella was quite good. though my father (who does the food shopping at home) always bought the beefsteak tomatoes from market basket, rather than the on-the-vine hothouse tomatoes that are so trendy these days, my mother supplemented our tomato supply in the summer with her tomato plants. my idea of what a tomato tastes like is slightly better than the average hard-pink-tomato eater's idea, I think. anyway, buy your heirloom tomatoes from a farmer's market.
the erivan yogurt purports to be from "cows with names," pasteurized only once. I think I would need to do a side-by-side tasting to determine the difference between ultra-pasteurized dairy products and pasteurized dairy products. I occasionally buy the garelick pasteurized heavy cream in the hopes that it will taste radically different from the ultrapasteurized stuff, but it really doesn't. I suppose my palate is just underdeveloped. back to the erivan yogurt. well, that must have been the sourest yogurt I've ever had. it wasn't as smooth-looking as regular yogurt - it was more a suspension of tiny white solid particles and whey-colored slightly viscous liquid. at any rate, it was SOUR. the granola helped, but only so much. I wonder who eats it; since it's still selling, somebody must be buying it. hopefully, the popularity-gaining yogurt won't be a victim of food trendiness in the near future; that is to say, it won't become an overly manipulated foodstuff. too many bad things happen to good food. greek yogurt has been gaining favor rapidly, as are more european-style yogurts (they're thicker, and have far fewer flavors). I look for the greek yogurt every time I got to harvest, trader joe's, and whole foods, but the articles that say they sell greek yogurt are lying. my favorite yogurt ever was the mango yogurt I had in lisbon, from the supermarket, but that was probably because it was packaged in small round jars (which I took home with me...one I gave to sonia and one I gave to my mother.
it would be interesting to know how one's perception of something affects how you taste it (I'm sure there are studies on this; I am currently too lazy to look for them. I am also supposed to be working). for example, I bought these organic apples instead of conventional ones; large, loose ones instead of small, bagged economy ones. so theoretically the organic apples are better, but do they actually taste better? on the matter of organic v. conventional, I am willing to go for organic due to perceived future health benefits, but I would like to know if these loose apples are better than the smaller ones. they had an edge over smaller apples as tasted from the apple crisp, but whether that's because I expected it, I will never know.
taste combination of the week: vanilla ice cream with freshly crumbled bits of digestive biscuit mixed in. heck, plain digestive biscuits too, while we're at it.
that's a mini-food story on its own, though. trips to harvest are always an adventure. it's probably good that it feels like it's farther away than the 2 blocks it really is. I went there intending to buy apples and butter for the apple crisp, and emerged with some nice, big organic apples (granny smith, which were an abnormally darkish green, and gala), butter, some erivan yogurt with a granola packet, fresh mozzarella, and some heirloom tomatoes. I must say that I wasn't particularly impressed with the tomatoes, although the mozzarella was quite good. though my father (who does the food shopping at home) always bought the beefsteak tomatoes from market basket, rather than the on-the-vine hothouse tomatoes that are so trendy these days, my mother supplemented our tomato supply in the summer with her tomato plants. my idea of what a tomato tastes like is slightly better than the average hard-pink-tomato eater's idea, I think. anyway, buy your heirloom tomatoes from a farmer's market.
the erivan yogurt purports to be from "cows with names," pasteurized only once. I think I would need to do a side-by-side tasting to determine the difference between ultra-pasteurized dairy products and pasteurized dairy products. I occasionally buy the garelick pasteurized heavy cream in the hopes that it will taste radically different from the ultrapasteurized stuff, but it really doesn't. I suppose my palate is just underdeveloped. back to the erivan yogurt. well, that must have been the sourest yogurt I've ever had. it wasn't as smooth-looking as regular yogurt - it was more a suspension of tiny white solid particles and whey-colored slightly viscous liquid. at any rate, it was SOUR. the granola helped, but only so much. I wonder who eats it; since it's still selling, somebody must be buying it. hopefully, the popularity-gaining yogurt won't be a victim of food trendiness in the near future; that is to say, it won't become an overly manipulated foodstuff. too many bad things happen to good food. greek yogurt has been gaining favor rapidly, as are more european-style yogurts (they're thicker, and have far fewer flavors). I look for the greek yogurt every time I got to harvest, trader joe's, and whole foods, but the articles that say they sell greek yogurt are lying. my favorite yogurt ever was the mango yogurt I had in lisbon, from the supermarket, but that was probably because it was packaged in small round jars (which I took home with me...one I gave to sonia and one I gave to my mother.
it would be interesting to know how one's perception of something affects how you taste it (I'm sure there are studies on this; I am currently too lazy to look for them. I am also supposed to be working). for example, I bought these organic apples instead of conventional ones; large, loose ones instead of small, bagged economy ones. so theoretically the organic apples are better, but do they actually taste better? on the matter of organic v. conventional, I am willing to go for organic due to perceived future health benefits, but I would like to know if these loose apples are better than the smaller ones. they had an edge over smaller apples as tasted from the apple crisp, but whether that's because I expected it, I will never know.
taste combination of the week: vanilla ice cream with freshly crumbled bits of digestive biscuit mixed in. heck, plain digestive biscuits too, while we're at it.
06 août 2004
restaurant trendiness
it's been a long time since I last wrote, pretty much because it's been so darn hot that turning on the stove and/or oven just isn't an option. however, the past couple of days have been quite favorable towards cooking, so I got back into swing pretty fast. wednesday, v and i made carrie's smothered chicken, stir-fried cauliflower, and lemon granita; last night nora and i made a bolognese sauce to go with our pipette pasta, roasted carrots, and indian pudding. not the most adventurous of outings, but pretty solid on new experiences.
carrie's smothered chicken is well-traveled territory, ever since I got the recipe from her. it was intended for my sister, firsthand, but then i had the recipe myself, naturally. since then, i've made it twice. sorry to those who want the recipe; I don't think it's up to me to give it out, but here is a basic description, since "smothered" can mean so many different things, food-wise. chicken thighs (I still haven't figured out if it would be better to skin them; do NOT use boneless anything) get browned, then baked in a mixture of barley, peppers, onions, spices, chicken stock, and, with my variation, sliced mushrooms. there is always leftover barley mixture that gets cooked on the stove (probably because of the added volume of mushrooms), and it always surprises me that the leftover barley tastes so different from the chicken barley. who would have thought that some chicken bones would make such a difference?
the stir-fried cauliflower is, well, stir-fried cauliflower.
the lemon granita, which I rushed home to make (it takes 3 hours to freeze), turned out fairly well. it was one of those things where you didn't get the flavor quite right, but you'd like to try the method again. granitas are quite easy: make a sugar syrup, add the flavoring, and freeze, breaking up lumps every now and then. the recipe I used was apparently an authentic sicilian recipe (from epicurious.com), and involved zesting lemons by peeling off the yellow part with a vegetable peeler. I suppose that vegetable peeler should be a sharp one, because the granita, while the lemon taste was great, and the texture was wonderful, had a bitter aftertaste from the lemon pith, presumably. I would also recommend trying a bouquet garni of lemon zest, zested the old-fashioned way. incidentally, the best way to juice a lemon without a juicer is to cut them in half, and just dig your fingers into a half to squeeze out all of the juice. messier, but juicers in general are messy. regular sugar, instead of confectioners sugar, is also a must - the taste from regular sugar is more intense and purer, because it has no cornstarch as an additive (it prevents clumping).
thursday dinner was quite late, as we started cooking on the later side; we sat down to eat at about 9:30. i don't know why this bolognese sauce was called "weeknight" bolognese, because it sure takes a while to prepare. after you've made it once, you can cut the time down to about 40 minutes, but that seems like a while for spaghetti sauce.
both gourmet and cook's illustrated are always complaining about the authenticity of bolognese sauces (apparently the stuff at bertucci's isn't authentic. who woulda thought?). as far as I can tell, the ingredient that authentic sauces are always missing is carrots. after having made the sauce, i have absolutely no idea what the carrots do for the sauce, but at least there's the nutritional benefit. the basic method for this sauce is as follows: saute some diced bacon, then add the onions, carrots, and mushrooms (reconstituted dried ones); then add the ground meatloaf mix, following it shortly with milk, which tenderizes the meat. simmer that off (it's quite brown at this point) and add the tomatoes and tomato paste (finally it turns red). some fancy aspects of this recipe include the reconstituted mushrooms; we couldn't find porcini mushrooms, so we used polish cepes. pungent is an understatement. the other fancy, and as far as i can tell, useless, addition was a sweet white wine, reduced. it added some depth of taste that i am unable to detect. however, the sauce was great, once we made some adjustments: we added a little more tomato paste and some sugar, which made it taste more tomato-y.
the thing I liked most about the bolognese is the combination of milk and meat. for reasons unknown to me, the milk actually does a great job of rendering the meat tender, instead of the scary, tough tendrils of grayish-brown matter that cooked ground beef so often resembles. i would nix the mushrooms next time, because i think they somewhat overpowered the sauce (this is also partly due to the type of mushrooms we used) - and the carrots. however, in support of the sauce, it goes really well with pipette pasta, eaten out of a bowl with a spoon.
you might think that the selection of indian pudding as dessert was random, and I suppose it was - I saw a photo in a Globe article, and my curiosity was piqued. first of all, the ingredient list is short and simple: milk, cornmeal, molasses, and ground ginger. surprisingly, it tastes like its ingredients; whether this is a good thing or not is an issue for discussion. after two hours in the oven, it had developed a crust that, unsurprisingly, was mika's favorite part. :) because of the molasses and ground ginger, it was very reminiscent of pumpkin pie, and was accordingly quite good with vanilla ice cream and maple syrup. indian pudding seems to be very much a comfort food, rather than the overdone, prettified stuff that restaurants turn out en masse. i would say that it's vulnerable to restaurant syndrome, though - that process where restaurants take something that's good, and simple, and "reinvent" into all sorts of disgusting things. it becomes chic and trendy, and suddenly it's everywhere. it's as if you had always worn blue sunglasses, but then they became trendy and everyone had them: your staple fashion statement has been stolen from you, and now you're not chic any more, just a poser trying to be chic, because you don't have the date you started wearing the sunglasses tattooed on your forehead. sometimes good things can come of this reinvention business, but more frequently it turns out like madonna (or rather, esther).
lemon granita
2-3 lemons
1 cup filtered or bottled water
1/2c sugar
[1] zest the lemons and tie into a bouquet garni, or peel off the yellow part with a sharp vegetable peeler. squeeze the juice out of the lemons (you'll want 1/2c of juice).
[2] heat the water and sugar together and stir occasionally, until all of the sugar has dissolved.
[3] remove from heat and stir in zest.
[4] cool the syrup, leaving zest in, then stir in lemon juice.
[5] freeze in a 9x13 metal pan, stirring and breaking up lumps every 30 minutes, until the mixture is slushy but not too liquidy, about 3 hours.
[serves 4]
bolognese sauce
2 carrots, grated
1/2 small onion, diced
3 oz bacon or pancetta, diced
1 can (28 oz) whole tomatoes with juice, chopped
1 can (14.5) oz diced tomatoes with juice
1 1/2T unsalted butter
1 small clove garlic, minced
1t sugar
1 1/4 lbs meatloaf mix
1 1/2c whole milk
3T tomato paste
salt and pepper to taste
[1] heat the butter in a 12" skillet until foaming, over medium-high heat. add the bacon/pancetta and saute until browned. add the onion, garlic, and carrots and saute until soft, about 4 minutes.
[2] add the meatloaf mix and break up into 1" pieces. cook the meat for 1 minute, then add the milk and break up the meat further. when the milk has almost all cooked off, add all the tomatoes with their juice, and the tomato paste. simmer 20-30 minutes, until thickened.
[3] add sugar, and season with salt and pepper.
[makes about 6 cups]
indian pudding
1 quart whole milk
1/2c yellow cornmeal
1/2c molasses
1t ground ginger
[1] scald the milk: heat until little bubbles appear at the edges (don't stir).
[2] mix the cornmeal into the milk and heat in a double boiler for 20 minutes, until thickened to the consistency of...oatmeal? porridge? just stick to the 20 minutes.
[3] stir in molasses and ground ginger.
[4] pour into a buttered 2-quart baking dish and bake for 2 hours at 300F. Serve with vanilla ice cream, drizzled with maple syrup.
[serves 4]
carrie's smothered chicken is well-traveled territory, ever since I got the recipe from her. it was intended for my sister, firsthand, but then i had the recipe myself, naturally. since then, i've made it twice. sorry to those who want the recipe; I don't think it's up to me to give it out, but here is a basic description, since "smothered" can mean so many different things, food-wise. chicken thighs (I still haven't figured out if it would be better to skin them; do NOT use boneless anything) get browned, then baked in a mixture of barley, peppers, onions, spices, chicken stock, and, with my variation, sliced mushrooms. there is always leftover barley mixture that gets cooked on the stove (probably because of the added volume of mushrooms), and it always surprises me that the leftover barley tastes so different from the chicken barley. who would have thought that some chicken bones would make such a difference?
the stir-fried cauliflower is, well, stir-fried cauliflower.
the lemon granita, which I rushed home to make (it takes 3 hours to freeze), turned out fairly well. it was one of those things where you didn't get the flavor quite right, but you'd like to try the method again. granitas are quite easy: make a sugar syrup, add the flavoring, and freeze, breaking up lumps every now and then. the recipe I used was apparently an authentic sicilian recipe (from epicurious.com), and involved zesting lemons by peeling off the yellow part with a vegetable peeler. I suppose that vegetable peeler should be a sharp one, because the granita, while the lemon taste was great, and the texture was wonderful, had a bitter aftertaste from the lemon pith, presumably. I would also recommend trying a bouquet garni of lemon zest, zested the old-fashioned way. incidentally, the best way to juice a lemon without a juicer is to cut them in half, and just dig your fingers into a half to squeeze out all of the juice. messier, but juicers in general are messy. regular sugar, instead of confectioners sugar, is also a must - the taste from regular sugar is more intense and purer, because it has no cornstarch as an additive (it prevents clumping).
thursday dinner was quite late, as we started cooking on the later side; we sat down to eat at about 9:30. i don't know why this bolognese sauce was called "weeknight" bolognese, because it sure takes a while to prepare. after you've made it once, you can cut the time down to about 40 minutes, but that seems like a while for spaghetti sauce.
both gourmet and cook's illustrated are always complaining about the authenticity of bolognese sauces (apparently the stuff at bertucci's isn't authentic. who woulda thought?). as far as I can tell, the ingredient that authentic sauces are always missing is carrots. after having made the sauce, i have absolutely no idea what the carrots do for the sauce, but at least there's the nutritional benefit. the basic method for this sauce is as follows: saute some diced bacon, then add the onions, carrots, and mushrooms (reconstituted dried ones); then add the ground meatloaf mix, following it shortly with milk, which tenderizes the meat. simmer that off (it's quite brown at this point) and add the tomatoes and tomato paste (finally it turns red). some fancy aspects of this recipe include the reconstituted mushrooms; we couldn't find porcini mushrooms, so we used polish cepes. pungent is an understatement. the other fancy, and as far as i can tell, useless, addition was a sweet white wine, reduced. it added some depth of taste that i am unable to detect. however, the sauce was great, once we made some adjustments: we added a little more tomato paste and some sugar, which made it taste more tomato-y.
the thing I liked most about the bolognese is the combination of milk and meat. for reasons unknown to me, the milk actually does a great job of rendering the meat tender, instead of the scary, tough tendrils of grayish-brown matter that cooked ground beef so often resembles. i would nix the mushrooms next time, because i think they somewhat overpowered the sauce (this is also partly due to the type of mushrooms we used) - and the carrots. however, in support of the sauce, it goes really well with pipette pasta, eaten out of a bowl with a spoon.
you might think that the selection of indian pudding as dessert was random, and I suppose it was - I saw a photo in a Globe article, and my curiosity was piqued. first of all, the ingredient list is short and simple: milk, cornmeal, molasses, and ground ginger. surprisingly, it tastes like its ingredients; whether this is a good thing or not is an issue for discussion. after two hours in the oven, it had developed a crust that, unsurprisingly, was mika's favorite part. :) because of the molasses and ground ginger, it was very reminiscent of pumpkin pie, and was accordingly quite good with vanilla ice cream and maple syrup. indian pudding seems to be very much a comfort food, rather than the overdone, prettified stuff that restaurants turn out en masse. i would say that it's vulnerable to restaurant syndrome, though - that process where restaurants take something that's good, and simple, and "reinvent" into all sorts of disgusting things. it becomes chic and trendy, and suddenly it's everywhere. it's as if you had always worn blue sunglasses, but then they became trendy and everyone had them: your staple fashion statement has been stolen from you, and now you're not chic any more, just a poser trying to be chic, because you don't have the date you started wearing the sunglasses tattooed on your forehead. sometimes good things can come of this reinvention business, but more frequently it turns out like madonna (or rather, esther).
lemon granita
2-3 lemons
1 cup filtered or bottled water
1/2c sugar
[1] zest the lemons and tie into a bouquet garni, or peel off the yellow part with a sharp vegetable peeler. squeeze the juice out of the lemons (you'll want 1/2c of juice).
[2] heat the water and sugar together and stir occasionally, until all of the sugar has dissolved.
[3] remove from heat and stir in zest.
[4] cool the syrup, leaving zest in, then stir in lemon juice.
[5] freeze in a 9x13 metal pan, stirring and breaking up lumps every 30 minutes, until the mixture is slushy but not too liquidy, about 3 hours.
[serves 4]
bolognese sauce
2 carrots, grated
1/2 small onion, diced
3 oz bacon or pancetta, diced
1 can (28 oz) whole tomatoes with juice, chopped
1 can (14.5) oz diced tomatoes with juice
1 1/2T unsalted butter
1 small clove garlic, minced
1t sugar
1 1/4 lbs meatloaf mix
1 1/2c whole milk
3T tomato paste
salt and pepper to taste
[1] heat the butter in a 12" skillet until foaming, over medium-high heat. add the bacon/pancetta and saute until browned. add the onion, garlic, and carrots and saute until soft, about 4 minutes.
[2] add the meatloaf mix and break up into 1" pieces. cook the meat for 1 minute, then add the milk and break up the meat further. when the milk has almost all cooked off, add all the tomatoes with their juice, and the tomato paste. simmer 20-30 minutes, until thickened.
[3] add sugar, and season with salt and pepper.
[makes about 6 cups]
indian pudding
1 quart whole milk
1/2c yellow cornmeal
1/2c molasses
1t ground ginger
[1] scald the milk: heat until little bubbles appear at the edges (don't stir).
[2] mix the cornmeal into the milk and heat in a double boiler for 20 minutes, until thickened to the consistency of...oatmeal? porridge? just stick to the 20 minutes.
[3] stir in molasses and ground ginger.
[4] pour into a buttered 2-quart baking dish and bake for 2 hours at 300F. Serve with vanilla ice cream, drizzled with maple syrup.
[serves 4]
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