Category Archives: Food

I’ve watched the preparation of risotto a couple of times, most recently by Lidia Bastianich, and everyone has always made it look very easy, provided you follow a few simple rules. I’m proud to say that for my virgin attempt at this Italian classic, I did pretty well. The constant stirring is a necessity, and yes, your arm will get tired. (Mine certainly did.) And when you get toward the end, it’s less about following the exact recipe and more about how much liquid you need to add to get it to the right consistency, which you can only gauge by repeated tastings.

For this initial try, I kept things relatively simple, utilizing an onion and a couple of fennel bulbs as the base. The best thing about risotto is its ability to take on any and all flavors and accents, but I wanted to taste the Arborio rice and see how things worked before getting all shellfish fancy and rainbow bright.

The slow and laborious ladle-by-ladle process of cooking to keep the rice intact works wonders, but it is a task. Repetitive and demanding, and without any corners to cut, it eventually becomes a peaceful endeavor once you give in to the rhythm, listen for the slight crackling, and keep things in motion. It’s also best done on a cold fall or winter’s night – you’re going to sweat.

Slowly but surely, the rice gains its classic soft-focus consistency – and I do mean slowly. This is one thing that cannot be rushed.

It’s a good lesson during these soon-to-be-hectic holiday times. We should all slow down a bit, savor the minutes, and pause for reflection. Making risotto is an opportunity for that, and like many instances of cooking, I find it peace-inducing and cathartic.

The end result was heavenly – rich and creamy and full-bodied, aided by the last-step addition of freshly-grated Parmigiano Reggiano cheese and a few more dollops of butter. As you approach the last minutes of cooking, be sure to taste for consistency and flavor, and hold off on the addition of salt until after you’ve added the cheese. (Mine was a tad too salty by the end of the ordeal.) All in all, however, I was pleased with the final product. I’ll try it again as soon as my arm recovers from all the stirring.

One of the few saving graces of the arrival of the colder seasons is the opportunity for comfort foods. The downturn in temperature practically demands it, and it’s the one instance where I’m happy to oblige. This is the time of the year when I enjoy cooking. It’s cozy to be in a kitchen warmed by simmering stews and soups or a tray of winter vegetables roasting in the oven. I’ll attempt a chicken at some point in the coming months, but for now it’s just soup, as evidenced by the feature photo.

This one is a bowl of Won Ton soup, procured at a Malaysian restaurant in Chinatown. Suzie and I ducked in just before closing time on a late September evening a little before midnight. The winds were starting to bite, and we were only about half-way back to the condo, so we took refuge in the almost-empty restaurant. A relative novice to the Asian noodle scene, I vowed to make this the fall and winter in which I sustain myself with their heat-miser magnificence. I chose one of the first soup entries on the menu – something with pork dumplings and scallions that sounded plain enough to enjoy as an entry-way to more extreme bowls down the line. It was amazing.

The broth was light but flavorful, and the pouches of pork dumplings were like pungent little pillows, providing their spicy protein in puffs of perfectly-puckered pulchritude. Scattered with scallions, the soup was layered with several levels of flavor, even as the main broth was relatively clear. The noodles were just the right amount to sustain without overfilling, and substantial enough to be more than satisfying for a full meal. Up until recently, I’ve always considered soup to be s starter or an accent, not the main course, but I’ve changed my mind. With noodles and/or rice, a soup can be a hefty dinner unto itself, and this fall I’m making it a staple dish in the seasonal repertoire.

Fresh heirloom tomatoes, fresh mozzarella, fresh basil, olive oil and balsamic vinegar. The simple makings of a mouthful of pleasure. This is the sort of thing I will miss most about summer. It just isn’t the same with supermarket stuff found in the dead of winter. That only makes me appreciate it more ~ the summer, and the flavor. I’ve added a sliced baguette to this in the past, which is even better at soaking up the oil and vinegar, but for the carb and gluten avoiders no bread is needed, and the effect is just as delicious.

This makes a lovely late-morning or early afternoon snack, or a great appetizer before a summer evening of grilling. When the vegetables are at their peak, there’s no need to mask or amp up the flavor – they speak vibrant volumes on their own. Equally pretty to look at, it’s a feast for the eyes, mouth and summer-seeking soul.

It’s amazing what such a little piece of pasta can accomplish, and how it can fill such a large bowl when used en masse and plumped with water and warmth and a bit of EVOO love. Though the close-up on this cup of pasta misleadingly magnifies the size of the tiny noodles, trust me that in their dry form they are small and insignificant. Only in their quantity do they amount to much. I like the lesson of life inherent in that metaphor. One small part, no matter how small, can make a difference when it’s not alone.

This pasta plays a part in another delicious recipe from Lidia Bastianich – a classic Italian dish, Pasta e Fagioli Veloce – which relies on a cannellini bean base for thickness, into which the ditalini goes to retain all of its starchy goodness. Hand-crushed tomatoes and freshly chopped parsley add pizzazz to the hearty dish – perfect for those cold nights and showery April days. A bit of grated cheese over the final product, and a rustic baguette for dipping, make it a meal unto itself, or the ample beginning of an evening of delicious sustenance.

Pasta e Fagioli Veloce

• 3 15-ounce cans cannellini beans, drained
• ½ cup extra-virgin olive oil
• 3 garlic cloves, peeled and crushed
• 2 tablespoons all-purpose flour
• 3 quarts water
• 1 fresh rosemary sprig, needles stripped
• 2 tablespoons kosher salt
• ¼ teaspoon crushed red pepper
• 1 15-ounce can whole tomatoes, crushed by hand
• 2 cups ditalini
• 2 tablespoons chopped fresh Italian parsley

Method:

In a blender, purée 2 cans of the beans with 1 cup water. Set aside. In a large soup pot, heat the olive oil over medium heat. Add the garlic. Once the garlic is sizzling, sprinkle in the flour. Let the flour toast for a minute but not color; then add 3 quarts of water, the rosemary, salt, and red pepper flakes. Bring to a boil, add the tomatoes, 1 cup slosh water from the tomato can, and the bean purée. Simmer until the soup thickens and is creamy and flavorful, about 30 minutes. Add the ditalini and the final can of beans (not puréed), and simmer until the pasta is al dente. Stir in the parsley and serve.

My obsession with Lidia Bastianich of the Create channel rages on with this delicious recipe (which can be found on her website here). It’s a substantial chicken breast variation that manages to keep the meat moist and flavorful thanks to its preparation method. The combination of orange and olives works an unexpected magic, lending a flavor-packed punch to the proceedings. There is an olive oil/butter combo at the start that you could probably forego if you want to keep things lean, but you’d be doing yourself a disservice if you go that route. Keep the whole thing intact to get the exquisite full-effect of the recipe – that bit of butter isn’t going to matter in the grand scheme of things.

As Lidia mentions, a chicken breast recipe is the bane and boon of many a family chef, and finding new but simple ways of turning that lackluster piece of meat into something extraordinary is always welcome.

Chicken Breast with Orange and Gaeta Olives
Pollo con Olive ed Aranci

• 2 tablespoons extra virgin olive oil
• 2 tablespoons unsalted butter
• 1 1/2 pounds thin sliced chicken cutlets
• 1 teaspoon kosher salt
• all-purpose flour for dredging
• 1 large red onion, sliced
• 1 cup pitted Gaeta or Kalamata olives, halved
• Juice and zest of 1 orange
• 1/2 cup white wine
• 1 teaspoon fennel powder
• 2 tablespoons chopped fresh Italian parsley

In a large skillet over medium heat, add the olive oil and butter. Season the chicken with 1/2 teaspoon of salt and lightly dredge it in flour. Lightly brown the chicken in the skillet (you want the chicken to end up with a blonde-colored crust and slowly build the color, and flavor, up) on both sides, about 2 minutes per side. Cook the chicken in batches, if necessary, depending on the size of your skillet. Remove to a plate as it is colored.

Once the chicken is colored, add the onion and cook until softened, about 3 to 4 minutes. Add the olives, orange juice and zest, white wine and fennel powder. Add chicken back to the skillet and simmer until the chicken is just cooked through and the sauce coats the chicken, about 3 to 4 minutes. Season with remaining salt, sprinkle with the parsley, and serve.

From ‘Lidia’s Commonsense Italian Cooking‘

The only thing I did slightly differently was pounding out the breasts a bit before cooking. There’s nothing worse than a breast that’s too thick and requires extra cooking time. Such a set-up leads to the possibility of drying out the meat in order to ensure a safe cook-through. Pounding out any extra-thick pieces alleviates this risk, while tenderizing the meat in the process. It need not be super-thin, just slightly, and it will turn out fine.

To counter-balance the strong flavors of the entree, I served this with a side of couscous and fresh parsley.

Despite the ease with which it seemed my pal Simon tied up a piece of pork many years ago, I’ve always steered clear of anything that requires tying, at least as far as the kitchen goes. It’s one of my peculiar and unfounded fears, like my trepidation of the pool drain or the Easter bunny. But when a recipe for a basic braciole showed up online, and the weekend turned snowy, I gave the classic Italian dish a try – and it turned out pretty well.

The trick here, at least according to many iterations, is a quick searing in oil then a long, slow cook in your best tomato sauce. Here’s the recipe I used:

INGREDIENTS:

1 1/2 lb flank steak (usually labeled braciole meat)

6 tbsp fresh parsley leaves (roughly chopped)

8 garlic cloves (minced)

4 tbsp of olive oil

Salt and pepper to season

4 tbsp grated Pecorino Romano cheese

METHOD:

1. Lay out the braciole on wax or parchment paper. Pound with a meat mallet.

2. Season both sides generously with sea salt and pepper. Sprinkle with olive oil.

3. Spread garlic on top of the braciole evenly across the entire piece. Scatter grated cheese on top of garlic.

4. Add a thick coating of parsley.

5. Roll it up tightly and tie securely with baker’s twine.

6. Heat dutch oven on stove top to medium-high heat and add olive oil. Place bracioles in carefully and turn to brown on all sides. Add water if necessary to keep the meat moist.

7. When fully browned, cover with tomato sauce and reduce to medium-low heat and let cook slowly for 2- 2 1/2 hours. Serve bracoile and sauce over pasta.

The rolling and tying was the messiest part, but with practice I can see it becoming less unwieldy. I made a tomato sauce from scratch as well (hello kitchen ambition) and cooked it slowly for about three hours, at the end of which the meat was super tender. A variation that you may want to try is the addition of pine nuts in the braciole, for an extra Italian twist.

It seems that certain things do much better when they’re tied up. The kitchen likes it kinky.

(Try saying that three times in quick succession.)

This is neither a disaster nor a striking success story – it falls somewhere between the two and involves my first attempt at crafting a crepe. I’ve never really been a fan of the fancy pancake – my mind has never quite gotten itself around where it’s meant to fall on the sweet versus savory spectrum (I love a good spectrum). I know there are both, but I like something a little less malleable in my food options. At any rate, I found a quick and easy (and quite basic) recipe in a recent New York Times magazine, and it went like this:

UNMEASURED CREPES

Very adapted from ‘Ratio’ by Michael Ruhlman

1 vessel whole raw eggs

1 vessel all-purpose flour

1 3/4 vessel whole milk

1/4 vessel sweet butter

Dash to pinch of salt

1. Beat eggs. Add ingredients and whisk. Add salt and taste.

2. Heat nonstick pan or lightly oiled one on medium heat. Add ladleful of batter, just enough to thinly coat bottom of pan. Cook until edges begin to brown, maybe 30 seconds. Flip, with conviction, and cook ten more seconds.

3. Cook as many as desired, stacking on plate and covering with cloth towel until ready to serve.

4. Savory variation: chop up fresh herbs – parsley, mint, and/or dill – and add to batter before cooking. (As much as you like.)

I gave it a whirl and it didn’t turn out badly. I love a simple recipe with a simple preparation. This time around the trickiest part was flipping the damn things, but even that went better than expected. Only two didn’t quite work out, and that’s because of early hesitation on my part. You have to commit to the flip. It has to be certain and definite, and a little bold. Any fear or hesitancy will not go over well. After a few tries, I found that the higher the crepe went in the air, the better chance I had of landing it perfectly. At first I was trying to keep it low and close to the pan. Go for the gusto and you’ll be fine.

As for the end result, I was pleased but not blown away. The first attempt was too thick – I’d used too much batter – and the crepe was a bit rubbery. After that, I cut down on the batter, keeping it very thin and spreading it around, at which point the traditional light and fluffy crepe consistency was achieved. My only complaint was that with such a quick cooking time, I still tasted a bit of raw flour. I wouldn’t have minded this so much with a sweet version, but in a savory style (I’d opted to add the fresh parsley) it was mildly annoying. (I know nothing about crepes – eating or making them – so I’m sure there are mistakes I made that contributed to the general ho-hum aspect of the whole process.) Perhaps FUSSYlittleBLOG or Carl can help a novice out with some tips…

Here are a few photos from a Thai lunch I had in Washington a number of months ago. I found them on my drive, and while I’ve forgotten the name of the place, the memory of how good it was lingers. Rather than go into the recipes and descriptions and a whole lot of hoo-ha, allow me to let the images speak for themselves. (In other words, you told me to shut up, so sit down and enjoy it.)

Tomorrow we are featuring a Special Guest Blog whose focus is on food, so let this be a mouth-watering preamble to that. Someone set the table, because this is going to be good.