Sunday brunch

A beautiful Sunday brunch, with a gathering of close friends.  Lots of good food, good conversation, and laughs. 

Spumante mimosas
Creamed dried beef over toast
Zucchini frittata
Sliced yellow tomatoes with mozzarella, dressed with garlic oil and pesto
Oven-roasted Italian sausage
Steak fries
Golden raisin muffins
Nectarine pandowdy
Homemade jams -- strawberry, fig, apricot
Coffee, tea

Couldn't have asked for a nicer afternoon.

Sunday in the kitchen

A productive day in the kitchen -- roasted a big pile of red peppers, steamed a few artichokes, and made a pot of pasta e ceci.

I've posted here about roasted peppers before.  The peppers at Gentile's Produce Market were magnificent and cheap -- $1.49/lb.  I bought two grocery sacks full.

I haven't written about steaming or stuffing artichokes, and I should.  Add that one to the list.

 Steamed artichokes, perfumed with lemon and olive oil. 

As for the pasta e ceci, it's a typical bean and pasta soup that's a staple in every Italian kitchen, a minestrone.  Every recipe is identical and different at the same time.  I'll outline a very basic recipe that you can modify to your needs and tastes.

2 large onions
2 large carrots
a big stalk of celery
6 cloves of garlic

Coarsely chop the veggies, and then process in your food processor until finely chopped.  This is what Lidia Bastianich calls her "pestata."  (Others call it a soffritto, but it's much the same thing.)  It's an excellent base for soups, stews, and the like.

In a large Dutch oven, warm 1/4 cup olive oil.  Add the pestata, a bay leaf, and sprig or two of thyme.  Saute the pestata until it starts to color.

Add two 14-oz cans of chick peas ("ceci"), drained, to the pot.  Add 6 cups stock (or water, if you want to keep this wholly vegetarian).

Cut up three ripe tomatoes into large chunks.  Process into a puree.  Add to the pot.

Bring to a boil, reduce heat, and simmer about 20 minutes until the chick peas are tender.  Salt and pepper as necessary.  Remove the bay leaf and thyme sprigs.  Drop an immersion blender into the pot and puree a bit, leaving some beans whole. 

Add 1/2 pound of ditalini or tubettini pasta.  Bring again to a boil, and cook until the pasta is just tender.  Turn off the heat.  Taste for seasoning.  Add a handful of chopped parsley at the end if you'd like -- it adds a nice color and flavor.  Serve in soup plates.  Drizzle with some olive oil, and pass grated cheese at the table. 

This soup is always better the next day.

Variations on a theme:  Saute bacon or pancetta in the olive oil before adding the pestata.  If you don't have chick peas, any bean will do -- cannellini, pinto, navy, kidney.  If you used dried split peas, you'd have pea soup.  If you don't have fresh tomatoes, use canned whole tomatoes and crush them with your hands before adding.  If all you have is tomato paste, that'll work, too.  Add it to the sauteing pestata, then add your stock or water.

Facebook fig jam

Chalk this recipe up to Facebook!

I recently friended an old high-school friend, Lisa F., on Facebook.  It's been YEARS since we've seen each other, very possibly since we graduated high school sometime in the last century.  (OK, OK, it was 33 years ago.  Happy now?)

Just last weekend Lisa posted on Facebook that the fig tree in her backyard was producing ripe fruit at an alarming pace, and was there anyone out there who'd like some of it?  I chimed right in -- sure, I'll make fig jam.

I went over that afternoon (she lives nearby), and picked up about 5 pounds of beautifully ripe, sweet, dark figs, picked just that morning off her tree.

Just getting reacquainted after so many years was a delight, and the fruit was a wonderful dividend.  I promised Lisa a couple jars of jam.

Got up early this morning and made some fig jam.  Nothing fancy -- figs, sugar, a bit of lemon juice, pinch of salt.  Cook, jars, process, cool.  I rely upon the National Center for Home Food Preservation for my recipes.  I used their Fig Jam without added pectin recipe.  Can't go wrong.  As I've mentioned in previous jammy posts, making jam is not difficult, but it helps to have a couple specialized tools handy, like a jar lifter, a canning funnel, a candy thermometer, and a big steel (not aluminum) stock pot. 

Cut-up figs and sugar, ready to cook.

Staging area, at the ready.

Figs and sugar, boiling hard.

Eight jars of beautiful fig jam. 

Remind me to tell the story of the Italian word for 'fig' some day. 

Sated in Seattle

I was in Seattle last week on business and had couple very good meals.

Upon arrival, I headed over to Belltown, the Monday location of popular food truck "Where Ya At, Matt." I tried the jambalaya.  Very good indeed.  Smoky, spicy, but not outrageously hot.  Good andouille, chicken, lots of veggies.  Matt himself was not there so I didn't get to meet him.

Monday night I dined at The Walrus and the Carpenter, an oyster bar in the Ballard neighborhood.  Their website said it opened at 4 pm.  Well, I was still very much on east-coast time, and was feeling a bit hungry, so wandered over to the bar at a very unfashionable 4:30 pm.  There was one seat left, at the bar.  Fine with me!

I'm not much of an oyster person, so forewent them.  But ordered a couple of the small plates on the menu, including grilled sardines with a shallot, walnut, and parsley sauce that was knock-your-socks-off good.  I then had their house-cured salmon, sliced and arrayed on the plate with a smear of creme fraiche, a couple slices of tomato, red onion, and a scattering of capers.  All I needed was a bagel!

 

Dessert was a locally produced, very fresh, very rich ricotta cheese -- an ice cream scoop-sized dollop on top of Ballard Bee honey.  Extraordinary.   The honey was so good I stopped at a local Whole Foods to see if I could find it.  No luck at Whole Foods, but it is available online.  

Dinner Tuesday was another popular Seattle dining spot:  Serious Pie.  It's one of Seattle restaurateur-entrepreneur Tom Douglas's places.  (If you know Stephen Starr in Philly, well, Tom Douglas is the Seattle equivalent, but Douglas, unlike Starr, is a chef.)  Good place.  A bit warm, from the gas oven.  Communal seating, meaning I shared a table with a couple on a date to my left and three business people in town for a sales meeting on the right.  

I got the clam pizza.  Very tasty.  Excellent, tender crust (not crisp or cracker-y in any way, more like a tender focaccia).  Problem was, it didn't taste much like clams.  I picked up the lemon thyme and the pancetta, but the clam flavor was very subtle.  I though I'd get a clam pizza like the ones I knew from Sally's in New Haven, but I was wrong.  The starter, sauteed mustard greens with a blue cheese drizzle, was very good.  

One of the threesome to my right apparently was quite the gourmand, and another was clearly a reluctant eater of new things.  They were friendly, though, and we chatted a bit.  I did have to laugh -- Mr Gourmand was telling Mr Relucant about the pizza Mr Reluctant had ordered -- house-cured guanciale, a soft-cooked egg, and arugula.  Mr Gourmand kept pronouncing it "guan-i-cal-e," but I didn't have the heart to correct him.  I'll add that to the list that includes "vinegar-ette," "maRscapone," and "papper-ika."

Lunch Thursday was at Palisade, a waterfront restaurant overlooking the marina on Elliott Bay, with magnificent views of the Seattle skyline and Mt Rainier.  Excellent salmon bisque and then crabcakes.  Afterwards, my very eager client took me up to a park on a bluff overlooking the bay (Kerry Park), with breathtaking panoramas of the city, the Sound, and the mountains.  

Seattle skyline from Kerry Park, with a ghostly Mt Rainier in the background.

I had some free time Thursday afternoon between client appointments.  I'd seen some signs posted about the Queen Anne Farmers' Market, that afternoon.  Naturally I couldn't resist stopping by and taking a few photos.  The produce was lovely, and the scene lively and fun.  

Thursday night was a business dinner, and I hosted my client at Wild Ginger.  Very, very good pan-Asian food -- noodles, stir-fries, and their signature satays.  Mountain lamb satay and scallop satay to start.  Then a couple stir-fry dishes -- Angkor Wat chicken, Mongolian noodles, and wok-fried barbecue prawns.  Lots of kick, lots of flavor, very pleasant serving staff, and good business conversation to boot.  Heck, with a meal that good, I'm bound to get his business!

After dinner, I rushed back up to Kerry Park and took advantage of the waning dusk light, and got some good nighttime photos of the skyline.  

Red

RED.  That is all.

 

 

Bloob muffin redux

The blueberries are in profusion.  Can't resist making some muffins.  Peg and Adoom like them, too.

Bloob muffin recipe from last year 

I made a small variation when I made the muffins yesterday -- I added a heaping tablespoon of sugar to the just-washed berries, tossed them around, sprinkled on a bit of cinnamon, and added a teaspoon of shredded lemon zest.  Nice. 

I also sprinkled some turbinado sugar on top of each before popping them into the oven.  Turbinado sugar is a coarse, crystalline, free-flowing brown sugar.  ((Dr Dave puts on chemist's hat)) Not quite sure how 'raw' it is -- it would have to go through some serious processing to achieve a crystalline, free-flowing state -- but it's nice on top of muffins or pies. 

One nice thing about muffins is that they keep well.  There's SO much butter in them relative to the amount of flour that they keep 'fresh' for a couple days well-wrapped. 

 

 Hot out of the oven.

 You can see the turbinado sugar glistening on top. 

Reading Terminal Market's makeover

Reading Terminal Market's makeover -- Philadelphia Inquirer

Reading Terminal Market homepage

More on the makeover

If you live in or near Philadelphia, and you don't shop and eat at Reading Terminal Market, you're missing one of the great food destinations in the country.
 
Anyone who knows me knows that I'm there regularly -- typically two or three Saturdays a month.  Breakfast or lunch with Adam or Carmen at The Dutch Eating Place or Down Home Diner, shopping for veggies and fruit at Iovine's, meat from Charlie Giunta, roasted chicken from Dienner's, raisin-pecan cinnamon buns from Beiler's, cold cuts and pepper bacon from Hatville Deli, coffee (medium, extra cream) from Old City Coffee, bargain produce from OK Lee, steamed dumplings from Sang Kee, bread and fig bars (!) from Metropolitan Bakery, roast pork sammiches (with broccoli rabe and provolone) from DiNic's.   

The market went through a major rejuvenation at the time that the Convention Center was being built, which saved it from developers who were intent on jettisoning the Market from its perch under the old Reading train shed.  

Now it's about to go through another bit of renovation and expansion.  Business is good, and that's good for all us food lovers and inveterate food shoppers, who love good quality and freshness.  RTM is good, not only because it offers so much to its customers, but because it is real, not a phony, tourist "festival marketplace" selling crap T-shirts and soft pretzels.  (Do you hear that, Faneuil Hall and Inner Harbor?)

 Adam, dazzled by the selection at Reading Terminal Market!

Philbert, the Market's mascot.

Jam-making day

Too damn hot and humid to be outside today, so I'm enjoying the day in the air-conditioned kitchen.  I made some amatriciana sauce yesterday (that's a tomato sauce made with bacon or pancetta and lots of onions; recipe to come), and a summer-fruit pandowdy.  I bought 5 pounds of apricots at Gentile's Produce Market last week, planning to make a pot of jam.  Today was the day.

I always refer to a favorite website when I'm making jam -- The National Center for Home Food Preservation.  The Center is part of the University of Georgia's Extension Service and the US Department of Agriculture.  A resource of remarkable depth.

The recipe I used today was for the fruit jam without added pectin.

Jam-making is not difficult, but it does require a few specialized tools -- a canning funnel, a jar-lifter, and a candy/deep-fat thermometer at the minimum.  You also need a big stockpot in which to do the sterilizing and hot-packing.  I have a pair of long leather barbecue gloves that I find very handy, too, to handle the hot jars. 

One of the pleasures of apricot jam is that the flavor of fresh apricots is made much more prominent when confected into a jam.  Also, apricots do not need to be peeled when being made into a jam; the skins disintegrate upon cooking.  

Barbara from NYC stopped by today to take me out to brunch for my birthday.  She arrived just as I was removing the jars from the hot-pack processing.  She got the first jar of jam to take home with her. 

 Boiling the fruit and sugar. 

 Filling the sterilized jars with the hot jam.  This is where the leather gloves come in handy. 
You can see the wide-bottom canning funnel, designed specifically for this task. 
The bands and discs for the lids are off to the upper right.

The finished jam.  Few things are better.

Nigel Slater

I read Nigel Slater's Toast years ago, and enjoyed his storytelling.  Like MFK Fisher, he writes stories that are not 'about' food (they aren't cookbooks or food reviews), so much as they are 'around' food. Food and cooking are characters in his stories.

There was a very good feature in the Wall Street Journal recently about him.

He's also a cook who loves his wooden spoons.  I can relate.

WSJ feature on Nigel Slater

Peach and plum pandowdy

I had half a dozen peaches, nectarines, and plums on the far side of ripeness, so decided to whip together a pandowdy.

A pandowdy is simply a one-crust pie, with the crust on the top.  I love making them because (a) they're quick to put together, and (b) the soggy bottom crust is eliminated by simply eliminating the bottom crust.

Lazy chef cheat -- I always keep a box or two of Pillsbury pastry crusts in the freezer so I can do a pie on the fly.  I will confess my sin on Saturday.  Honestly, though, they're really quite good.

Cut up enough peaches, plums, and nectarines to make five to six cups cut-up fruit.  You can take the time to peel the fruit, but honestly, it pretty much disintegrates when cooking and it's a waste of time.  And forget about trying to peel a plum.

Sprinkle the fruit with a good cup of sugar, and add 2 tablespoons Minute® Tapioca.  Sprinkle some cinnamon, a few grates of nutmeg, a pinch of salt.  Let it sit for 5 minutes while you prep the baking dish.

Spray a 6-cup baking dish with release spray.  Dump in the sugared fruit.  Dot with butter. 

 

Unroll the Pillsbury crust and cut it into strips (I use a ravioli cutter -- a paring knife will suffice.)  Lay the strips on top of the fruit in any sort of pattern you like.  Random looks quite fetching.

 

Paint with some cream or half-n-half.  Sprinkle some coarse brown (turbinado) sugar on top, and pop into a 400°F oven until the crust is nicely browned, and the fruit is bubbling up all around the edges, 45-55 minutes.  I use the convection setting on my oven, which encourages a nice browning of the crust. 

Lazy chef cheat -- put the baking dish on a sheet pan which has been covered with Reynolds® Non-Stick Foil.  You will thank yourself later after the fruit syrup bubbles up and over the baking dish.

How beautiful is that?