Rhubarb - I'm in a Jam

On record for Thursday, May 15, 2008: The day dawned cold, and cold it stayed. The cold was followed by and was preceded with wind. The wind chilled the coldness to a bite I felt on my exposed ears. And I examined rhubarb, and green garlic, and purple-tipped asparagus with the cold resting its freckled hands on my ears as it tried to keep me from listening to vendors’ explanations on various spring produce. Green garlic – use it up to the tips; rhubarb – red and green parts can be used, discard the “prongs.”

Discard the prongs is exactly what I did as I chopped the three precious stalks I purchased. By golly, at $3 a bunch, and only 3 stalks to a bunch, I’m going to use every bit of the rhubarb that is edible. I found a recipe for Rhubarb Cobbler that calls for boiling the chopped rhubarb in sugar syrup thickened with corn starch. Simple enough – I knew that rhubarb is excruciatingly tart without the help of sugar, so infuse as much sugar into the pieces as possible, right? Well, yes and no. When I added the rhubarb to the sugar syrup and simmered it for the 10 minutes the recipe suggested, the result was more of a jam rather than softened pieces of rhubarb.

Naturally, as I prepared my sweet biscuit topping, I fretted about the texture of the overall dessert. Beyond mushy fruit, would a biscuit-topped jam even pass as dessert in the eyes of my sweet-toothed-gourmet husband?

As for me, the cinnamon-spiked tartness of the rhubarb made me reminisce about the taste of my sister’s homemade Dutch Apple Pie, worthy of a blue ribbon in any county fair. The layers of apples, tender yet still with a slight bite and whiffs of spices and savory butter, what a pie. “I used Butter Flavored Crisco,” Aimee confessed. I did not care, nor do I care now; apples are fall's favorite fruit. What I care about is creating a springtime pie with the same spices, texture, and memory; my first stab at springtime's quintessential dessert.

Oh my goodness, so I didn’t quite achieve the slightly crisp tender texture I so badly craved, but the tartness lending to spiciness was spot-on. A sweet biscuit soaking up the juices, a dollop of sour cream (that’s American for crème fraîche), and a cup of coffee rounded out my surprise hit – Rhubarb Jam Cobbler. Shane even said I could use less biscuit topping to allow the rhubarb to shine.

Perhaps next time I will try a different method, one that leaves the rhubarb pieces whole for a full-textured experience. However, I can guarantee I have one country boy at home who does not mind finishing leftovers of last night’s attempt.

My attempt to recreate a tart, apple-esque cobbler using farmer's market rhubarb; I instead present Rhubarb Jam Cobbler:

Serves Eight (I halved this recipe and made four servings)

Adapted from Williams-Sonoma Essentials of Baking

Rhubarb Cobbler Filling:

1 cup water
1 cup sugar
2 tablespoons cornstarch
4 cups (about 6-8 stalks, depending on size) rhubarb, chopped
2 teaspoons cinnamon, or to taste

Bring the first 3 ingredients to a boil over medium heat, stirring until thick and clear, and add the rhubarb and cinnamon. Cook, stirring frequently, about 10 minutes. Pour into a 9" pie dish, or 8 individual baking dishes. Set aside while assembling topping.

Sweet Biscuit Topping:

Scant 2/3 cup 2 % or whole milk
1 tablespoon sour cream
1 vanilla bean, scraped
1 1/2 cups all purpose flour
1/3 cup sugar
1/2 teaspoon baking soda
1/2 teaspoon salt
tablespoons cold unsalted butter, cut into small pieces.

Preheat oven to 350 degrees.

In a tightly closed jar, vigorously shake the milk and sour cream and set aside. Over a medium bowl, sift together all dry ingredients, including the sugar. Add the scraped vanilla bean and butter pieces. Using your fingers or a pastry cutter, cut in butter until small crumbs form. Add the milk mixture slowly, and gently stir with a fork until a soft dough forms and all crumbs are evenly but just moistened. Do not over-handle the dough or the biscuits will be tough.

Using an ice cream scoop, drop the dough onto the surface of the fruit. It will spread as it bakes. Bake for 30-35 minutes, or until a toothpick inserted into the biscuit dough comes out clean. Cook on a rack for at least 15 minutes. Serve with sour cream or crème fraîche.

Table for One

What does a temporarily single gal need on a night to herself?

A drink involving rum, sugar, mint, and lime:

Rum-Whatever "Mojito"
2 tsp. confectioners' sugar
Juice of 1 1/2 limes, or to taste
4 fresh mint leaves, chopped
2 ounces rum (white rum is traditional, gold is all I had)
Seltzer or sparkling water
Angostura bitters (optional)

In a tall glass, mix sugar with lime juice. Add mint leaves and with a fork or the back of a spoon, crush against the glass to release their juices. Add rum, stir, and top with a little sparkling or seltzer water. Add a dash of Angostura bitters if desired.

A flashlight to find the breaker box when fuse is blown while heating tortillas in microwave;

Food.

Late spring green garlic was kissed by cayenne and humbled by touches of cumin. Scallops, patted dry and lightly seasoned with salt, were tossed into the mixture and perfectly seared a golden brown, two minutes on each side.

Four white corn tortillas were heated, upon which I piled arugula, the seared scallops and green garlic, finely sliced radishes, shredded cilantro, sliced roasted red peppers, and sliced avocados. Besides a good wash-down of a makeshift Mojito, a little salt was the only extra seasoning these over-stuffed tacos needed.

Lime Butter Cookies (Sablés au Citron Vert)

Adapted from Pâtisserie Lerch From Paris Sweets: Great Desserts from the City's Best Pastry Shops by Dorie Greenspan (Emilie's note: the original recipe called for lemon; I used lime)

2 sticks unsalted butter, at room temperature (use the highest grade of the best brand you can find)
2/3 cup confectioners' sugar, sifted
1 large egg yolk, at room temperature
Pinch of salt
1 vanilla bean, scraped (spend the cash, it's worth it!)
Grated zest of 1 to 1 1/2 limes (more is better)
2 cups all-purpose flour

In a large mixer bowl, beat butter at medium speed until it is smooth. Add the sifted confectioners' sugar and beat again until the mixture is pale yellow and smooth. Beat in the egg yolk, followed by the salt, vanilla scrapings, and grated lime zest. Reduce the mixer speed to low and add the flour, beating just until it disappears. Mixture will appear crumbly, much like the "course cornmeal" stage of a pie crust. That's okay. Stop beating at this point, and just work the remainder of the flour in with a rubber spatula. Turn the dough out onto a counter, gather it into a ball, and divide it in half. You will probably need to use a touch of force to get the dough to stick -- just don't overdo it. Wrap each piece of dough in plastic wrap and refrigerate for at least 30 minutes. It'll be easier to work with once it's cold.

Working on a smooth surface, form each piece of dough into a log that is about 1 to 1 1/4 inches thick. Wrap the logs in plastic and chill for at least 2 hours. Don't short yourself the 2 hours, as the dough is much easier to handle and cut when it's cold. From here, the dough can be wrapped airtight and kept refrigerated for up to 3 days or stored in the freezer for up to 1 month.

Position the racks to divide the oven into thirds and preheat the oven to 350°F. Line two baking sheets with parchment paper.

Slice each log into 1/4 inch cookies. Bake the cookies for 12 to 14 minutes, or until they are set but not browned. Transfer the cookies to cooling racks to cool to room temperature. Confession, I did not let my cookies cool to room temperature before I sucked in their fragile and buttery crumbs. Oh bliss when the sablés hit my tongue and melted into a hot, buttery, lime-scented sea.

Fight-Back Friday Frijoles!

I am faced with the same dilemma almost every Thursday evening -- What am I going to pack in my lunch tomorrow? The roast beef I bought for sandwiches only stretches four days - two slices per sandwich per day, except for the Thursday when I discovered I three slices of roast beef left in the package. Woohoo, bonus slice!

I ate the bonus slice on Thursday's sandwich - it was shamelessly delicious - which left the still nagging thought of what to pack for Friday's lunch. As the only meals we ate at home this week were pizza and salad on Sunday evening, and leftover pizza and fresh salad on Wednesday evening, leftovers in my brown bag were just not possible. Running down to my favorite sandwich shop for a bite only to stand in a line runs out the door and down the sidewalk seemed daunting. A meal from home seemed more cozy and relaxing, something that fit into my lazy schedule. Walk to the break room and heat up a meal or walk to get a sandwich, stand in line for 20 minutes, pay $7, and rush back to work?

For greater of two months, the urge to cook has been the apparition that can't settle into an afterlife. When the urge to settle strikes, I strike back. Admittedly, what I put together for my lunch was more of a flirtatious slap than an out-and-out brawl. But I had to whip up a meal for my lunch out of pure shame -- I was supposed to make the very meal for supper. Somehow, between walking to the train and walking through the doors of the restaurant, there was a change in plans. I am almost positive strong brainwashing tactics were involved, tactics that caused my mind to detour from thoughts of homemade black beans and rice to thoughts of beef, cilantro, soft corn tortillas, and cactus salad. Shane was a happy accomplice.

And when we arrived home, hours later, full of beef, cilantro, soft corn tortillas, cactus salad, and the beer we bought on the way to supper, I had to look my thawed bag of black beans square in the eye and dare them to whip themselves into something scrumptious. And what darling little beans they were to soak up the fresh onion and garlic, dashes of cayenne pepper and cumin, roasted red peppers, thyme sprigs, and the few splashes of red wine vinegar, just for balance, and today as I ate their almost forgotten velvety texture over brown Basmati rice, garnished with fresh cilantro and squeezes of lime, I was grateful I made the time to reacquaint myself with old friends packed in the freezer and amongst the various clutter of sugars and spices. Shane dunked his store-bought cookies into milk lightly flavored with chocolate syrup, yet he still seemed jealous when he smelled what was cooking at 8:00 last night. "You can't possibly eat all that for lunch tomorrow," Shane observed.

"Perhaps I'll share the rest," I answered.

Perhaps, but Monday dawns so brightly, so quickly.

Friday Frijoles

1 tablespoon olive oil
1 small onion, chopped
3 cloves garlic, green germ removed, chopped
dash of cayenne pepper
2 tsp. cumin
3 cups cooked black beans, un-drained
1 large roasted red pepper, chopped
2 or 3 tablespoons red wine vinegar
Couple sprigs of fresh thyme
1 bay leaf
Chopped fresh cilantro and lime wedges to serve

Heat olive oil over medium heat. Soften onion in olive oil for 5 minutes. Add garlic, cayenne pepper, and cumin. From here, don't stand over the pot and inhale. After a minute or two of constant stirring so the garlic doesn't burn, add the beans, bell pepper, two tablespoons of the vinegar, thyme and bay leaf. Bring to a boil, and simmer for 15 minutes. Stir frequently as the beans will stick to the bottom of the pot if neglected (and I know this because I sometimes do neglect my beans). Remove from heat, discard bay leaf and thyme sprigs, adjust seasonings, add more vinegar if the taste buds scream for it. Serve over cooked rice, and garnish with fresh cilantro, lime wedges, and a few glasses of Modelo Especial.

Leftovers make a great Saturday breakfast -- just heat and add sliced avocados Modelo optional.)

Late Spring's Desire; Summer's Hope Blooms Eternally

There’s an angst growing everyday as I await every eggplant variety, the hideously ugly heirloom tomato, and anise-scented basil leaves large enough to serve as lettuce on my BLT, ahem, BBT. If every herb standing at attention makes it into my basket (and believe me, they will), the excess goes into clean jars, and topped with olive oil, they’re preserved in my refrigerator for a taste of summer herbs when the thermometer again dips into the 50s, 40s, and 30s. It’s time for farmer’s market season.

While the trees are still struggling to bloom, it’s the love of tomatoes that causes me to lament – the memory of their sweet flesh and juicy finish taunt me as I prowl the grocery store and stumble upon their December counterfeit. It’s not soon enough, my mind reminds me daily, and just when I think I’m losing hope, tomatoes will spill from countertops onto windowsills, decorate the dining room table, only to eventually snake into the living area where a bowl of Green Zebras and Brandywines sit atop my antique coffee table not collecting dust, but instead attracting eyes and mouths and olfactory nerves until I audaciously seize them and roast them.

Roasting tomatoes is the ultimate triumph of my summer, and in the off-months, my favorite canned, whole Roma tomatoes will suffice; they will have to suffice. There have been a number of times I’ve almost succumbed to the December tomato; my eyes and mouth water for summer. However, I have had success in roasting canned whole tomatoes. The texture is not spot-on to fresh, but the flavor is fresh, succulent, and beats any cardboard tomato I eyeball in the supermarket. A long, low temperature roasting not only brings out the balance between tomato’s natural sweetness and acidity, it also breaks down the flesh to create an easy sauce made even more pungent with roasted garlic, olive oil, a pinch of sugar, salt, and pepper.

And turn a can of plain, whole tomatoes into a thick, garlicky sauce is exactly what I did to put a little oomph into a Spanish tortilla and ease my angst until I can pick out my own beauties from summer stalls.

Spanish Tortilla

Serves 4

4 or 5 small red-skinned potatoes, whole, boiled
8 large eggs
A few generous dashes of salt
Pinch of cayenne or crushed red pepper
2 tablespoons olive oil, divided
1 medium onion, chopped

Position rack in center of oven and preheat to 350°F.

Slice potatoes into rounds. Set aside.

Whisk eggs, salt, and red pepper in large bowl until well blended. Mix in potatoes. Heat 1 tablespoon oil in large ovenproof skillet over high heat. Add onion; sauté until golden, about 5 minutes. Reduce heat to medium and carefully add the additional tablespoon of olive oil. Add egg mixture; cook 3 minutes, occasionally stirring egg from sides of skillet. Place skillet in oven and bake eggs until set in center and no longer wet on top, about 20 minutes.

Remove tortilla from oven. Immediately place skillet on cold wet kitchen towel to prevent further cooking. Let stand 2 minutes. Run spatula around edge of skillet and under tortilla. Lift skillet and tilt, sliding tortilla onto platter. Cut into wedges and serve with Garlicky Tomato Sauce and a nice, crisp salad (salad suggestion follows).


Not Quite Summertime Garlicky Tomato Sauce

1 28 oz can whole tomatoes, juices drained
Pinch of sugar
Salt and freshly ground pepper
2 heads garlic
Good pour of olive oil
5 or 6 stems of fresh thyme

Heat oven to 300 degrees.

In a casserole dish or ovenproof pot, arrange the tomatoes on the bottom being careful not to overlap or crowd the tomatoes. You want them to get a bit of a caramelized texture and taste. Use more than one dish if necessary. Overcrowding with steam rather than caramelize the tomatoes. Sprinkle a bit of sugar over the tomatoes and finish with salt and freshly ground pepper. Slice the top off each head of garlic and tuck each head into the tomatoes. Pour a good amount of olive oil (1/4 cup should do it), and tuck in the fresh thyme stems. Roast for 3 to 4 hours, or until tomatoes and garlic are browning nicely, and garlic is soft and sweet. Remove from oven and discard the thyme. Let the dish cool for a bit, and then squeeze the soft cloves from the garlic skins. Discard skins, and mash garlic and tomatoes together to form a thick sauce. Adjust seasonings if necessary.


Feta and Lime Tossed Salad

Serves 2 medium-sized salads; double for 4 people

1 small head romaine lettuce, chopped
3-4 ounces Feta cheese (sheep or goat preferable)
4 scallions, white and some green part chopped
1/2 medium lime
1 tablespoon olive oil
salt and freshely pepper to taste

Combine lettuce, cheese, and scallions in a medium bowl. Squeeze lime over greens, drizzle olive oil over, season with salt and pepper, and toss salad until the dressing is incorporated into the greens.

Gnocchi Redeemed

After I wrote about my humble attempt at gnocchi, I can proudly proclaim that I have redeemed these sweet little packages of potato and punchy garlic. How many times have I tried to make things worlds more complicated than necessary? If the hair wants to part on the left, let it part on the left. If your significant other is grouchy, leave them be. If the gnocchi tastes heavenly on its own, run with it – which is exactly what I did on a weekday evening.

In anticipation of picking up my new bike from a bike shop that closed at 8:00 p.m., I knew a fast one was in order. Knowing I had some frozen gnocchi from my original batch, it was time to test how satisfied I could feel after a lightly seasoned plate of gnocchi and green salad. Playing off the flavors of garlic and sweet potato, I quickly made a brown butter sauce with two tablespoons of unsalted butter, two chopped shallots and some fresh thyme (shallots and thyme are my routine -- hello delicious routine).

As the shallots softened and the butter browned, I brought a large pot of water to boil, and, straight from the freezer, dumped in the remainder of the gnocchi. For an additional twist to my original gnocchi dish, after I boiled the gnocchi, I threw them into the skillet with the brown butter, shallots, and thyme. I browned each little potato pillow until they absorbed most of the taste and glistened with butter. Now this, this, is how my redeemed gnocchi came to be.

My bike, well, it’s still sitting at the bike shop waiting for its timid owner to claim it. Unfortunately as Shane and I were tucking into our evening vittles, predicted rain came true – in downpours. Emilie vs. Bike? Well, I have tackled gnocchi, and now I’m ready for another challenge.

Sunday’s Cadence, Wednesday’s Song

I love a cozy Sunday supper, even when the weather is (supposedly) turning warmer. I really love a hearty salad, even when the weather is (supposedly) staying cooler. Salads are a wonderful way to use leftovers that cannot quite stretch for a full-blown meal. Just yesterday evening I whipped up a colorful plate of greens to eat with a pizza dressed with pesky leftover butternut squash that had been sitting in my freezer for almost 2 months.

Peppery baby arugula teamed with a diced Pink Lady apple (one-quarter hungrily devoured by yours truly), two tablespoons of toasted walnuts, and half of a leftover pork chop, sliced. Sweet and tangy maple dressing brought out the grassy undertones of the arugula, and is there any kind of pork that does not work well with a good douse of both apple and maple flavors? Thick slices of butternut squash, caramelized onions, and goat brie pizza flecked with fresh thyme accompanied the light salad, and I can now relax knowing I’ve successfully cleaned from my fridge and freezer lingering leftovers.

However, at times I purposefully make more than enough meat, vegetable, etc. at one meal just so I can whip up a “leftover” salad later in the week. In this respect, chicken is a salad chameleon. Not only is it standard for walnuts/pecan, raisins/grapes/apples/, green onion/red onion, curry/traditional, mayonnaise-based chicken salad. Chicken also stars in club salads, Cobb salads, and, in its processed counterpart, chef salads.

Starting with a base of baked chicken, boiled potatoes still in their skins, and romaine lettuce, I let my refrigerator’s contents strut their stuff in this part chef, part chopped, all tasty salad. Here are the ingredients that made the final cut:

3 boiled red-skinned potatoes, whole, in their skins
1 six to eight ounce cooked chicken breast or thigh, chopped
2 hard boiled eggs, sliced
5 radishes, finely chopped
2 stalks celery, chopped (good for optional crunch, however, I’m not allowed to use celery in Shane’s salad)
2 small shallots, thinly sliced
¼ cup crumbled Gorgonzola
¼ cup shaved Parmigiano-Reggiano
1 ½ bunches romaine lettuce, finely chopped

Dressing (from Gourmet February 2008):

3 tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil1 1/2 tablespoons fresh lemon juice1 teaspoon mild honey (*I used 2 teaspoons)1 teaspoon Dijon mustard

Preheat oven to 425 degrees.

Cut potatoes into 1 ½ inch cubes and roast in 425 degree oven until browned, about 15 to 20 minutes. Remove from oven and let cool slightly.

Mix dressing ingredients, and add salt and pepper to taste. Once potatoes have cooled a bit, mix the remainder of the salad ingredients together and dress with 2 to 3 tablespoons of honey mustard dressing. Serve immediately.

Okay, Okay, the New and Improved Pork Chop Dish

In continuation of the May 11, 2008 post, after the appetizer, and before the dessert I have yet to enticingly describe, I served pork chops in port wine cream sauce over whole wheat penne:

Pork Chops in Port Wine Cream Sauce over Whole Wheat Penne

Serves 4, especially after potato chips and brie

For the Pork Chops:
3 8oz boneless pork chops, each chop roughly 1 inch thick
Generous grinding of coarsely cracked pepper
salt
olive oil (optional)

For the sauce:
2 tablespoons butter
4 shallots, chopped
Handful fresh thyme, chopped
1 cup port, tawny or ruby
1 1/3 cups cream
salt to taste

1 lb penne, or any tubular pasta, whole wheat or not

Start a large pot of salted water to boil.

Crack pepper onto a large plate or platter and sprinkle over with salt. Press both pork chops into the salt and pepper on the plate and generously sprinkle more salt and pepper over the tops of the chops and press into the chops. Heat a large, heavy skillet (I used cast iron) on a fairly high heat. If necessary, brush the skillet with olive oil before. If it's a well seasoned pan, this may not be necessary. In batches, sear the pork chops: one minute on each side and then lower the heat, cover skillet, and cook pork chops 4 minutes each side. Remove pork chops from the pan onto a plate, cover with foil, and let rest for 5 minutes. The Pork chops will continue cooking until they are pink in the middle.

As the remaining pork chop cooks, add the pasta to the boiling water. Cook until al dente.

While the pasta is cooking, to the already warm skillet, add the butter. When the butter stops foaming, add the shallots and thyme and sauté for 5 minutes. Carefully pour the port into the skillet, increase heat, and bring to a boil. Simmer for 1 minute scraping the bottom of the skillet to release the bits of meat clinging to the bottom. Add cream and any meat juices that accumulate on the plate to the skillet, bring to a simmer, and simmer for 2-3 minutes or until thickened. Salt to taste.

Slice pork into strips. Drain pasta, toss with the cream sauce, and top with slices of the pork chops.

Can It Brie So Simple?

It can brie Goat brie!

Shane and I entertained our first couple for supper yesterday evening. Wanting to serve our main course hot (or at the very least, fresh), I waited until our guests arrived before searing three plump and tender pork chops to serve in my Shane-requested port wine cream sauce. However, our newly arrived and ravenous guests would not go hungry, and chips and dip a la Emilie were quickly devoured.

I wanted an impressive, yet fuss-free appetizer to fend off impatient hungries. Goat brie, conveniently packaged in an edible crust and gently heated, lends its tangy, creamy qualities to an instant dip. On its own, the cheese's flavor works well with apples and plain water crackers or slices of baguette, spread with butter and lightly toasted. As acceptable as these alternative appealed to me, I wanted to try an appetizer I'd been concocting in my head -- a dinner party-worthy cheese dip, sans any shelf-stable jar or box of cheese product. Fresh herbs, a few chopped scallions, and freshly ground pepper are all the components for an appetizer casual and elegant -- enough to complement burgers and beer on the lawn or pork chops around the dining room table.

So Simple Thyme and Brie Dip

Serves 4 guests, hungry and awaiting the supper that sizzling on the stove.

1 round brie, goat or cow (about 4.5 - 5 ounces)
Handful chopped fresh thyme
4 scallions, chopped, including some green from the tops
Freshly ground black pepper

Preheat the oven to 350 degrees.

Carefully slice the top off the brie. Discard it, or save it for later (or just eat it when no one is looking). Place cheese in an oven save dish (and for ease of removing dish from the oven, place dish on a baking sheet), and bake it for 10-15 minutes, until cheese is soft and runny.

Remove dish from the oven, and add the thyme, chopped scallions, reserving a few green pieces for garnish) and freshly ground pepper to the cheese and mix into the brie, being careful not to break through the crust. Place dish back into the oven for 10 minutes. Remove dish from oven 5 minutes before serving, and over the top of the cheese, scatter the remaining scallion greens. Serve with gourmet potato chips.