Last Year’s Jam
Tuesday, April 30, 2013
I’m not a super-preserver or anything, but by this point, I’ve established a regular seasonal pattern of jam-making: sour cherry at the beginning of summer, plum at the end of summer, and quince in the late fall. While I’ve also finally achieved a decent amount of cabinet space in my kitchen, it’s not unlimited, which means right around now I start thinking about clearing out some space to prepare for the cycle to begin again.
I used some of the plum as a cake filling a couple of weeks ago, and this week I rolled a jar of the quince into some buttery, flaky rugelach. (The sour cherry, alas, never seems to make it past a few months, because I love it too much.) You can use whichever jar is pushing its way to the front of your pantry, or whatever looks good at the market this weekend.
(Adapted from Rugelach, Alice Medrich’s Chewy Gooey Crispy Crunchy, 2010)
Makes 48 cookies
For the pastry:
2 1/2 cups all-purpose flour
2 tablespoons granulated sugar
1/4 teaspoon fine sea salt
16 tablespoons (2 sticks) cold unsalted butter, cut into 16 cubes
8 tablespoons (1 8-ounce block) cold cream cheese, cut into 1-inch cubes
1 cup jam needing to be used up, in this case quince
1 cup finely chopped walnuts
Fine sea salt for sprinkling
Combine the flour, sugar and salt for the pastry in the bowl of a standing mixer fitted with the paddle attachment. Mix briefly to blend the dry ingredients, then add the butter and mix on low until mostly broken up and the mixture resembles coarse crumbs. Mix in the cream cheese just until a damp, shaggy dough forms, then turn out onto a clean countertop and knead briefly to create a mostly cohesive block. Divide into four equal parts and pat into 4-inch disks, tightly wrapping each individually. Refrigerate at least two hours and preferably overnight.
When ready to bake, line two cookie sheets with parchment paper or silicone liners and preheat the oven to 350 F.
Roll one disk of pastry between sheets of parchment paper to a diameter of 12 inches and a thickness of about a quarter inch. Spread the pastry with a quarter of the jam, and evenly coat with a quarter of the walnuts and a small pinch of salt. Using a pizza cutter or sharp chef’s knife, slice the pastry into 12 approximately equal wedges. Starting with the outside edge, roll each wedge toward the point and place, point-side down, on a lined cookie sheet. Repeat with the remaining wedges, setting the cookies 2 inches apart. Place the cookie sheet in the refrigerator to firm the cookies back up as you repeat the process with the remaining pastry disks, jam and walnuts.
Bake each sheet of cookies on the center rack for 25-28 minutes, until pale gold on top and a slightly darker golden brown at the edges, rotating the pans as necessary for even browning. Immediately transfer the baked cookies on their parchment to cooling racks and cool completely.
Cookies will keep well in airtight containers for up to 5 days.
Thursday, March 28, 2013
I really hope this is the last of the winter produce recipes until Thanksgiving, not because I don’t love hard squashes, cabbages and brassicas, but because I am really just sick of winter. My longing for asparagus and rhubarb is starting to become acute, and each of these spring snows is making me despair that tomato season is never coming.
While we’re all cursing the groundhog, this butternut squash spread is at least a bright and sunny color, and warmly spicy enough to maybe convince yourself that you’re in the Mediterranean, if you close your eyes. It’s adapted from Yotam Ottolenghi and Sami Tamimi’s beautiful cookbook, Jerusalem, and combines caramelized roasted squash and tahini into a hummus-like dip. This version has been made vegan by replacing the original yogurt with soft cooked red lentils and a hit of lemon juice, and instead of plain cinnamon I used a Syrian spice mix. You could use za’atar, ras el hanout, berbere, or any similar blend if you prefer.
Roasted Butternut Spread
(Adapted from Yotam Ottolenghi and Sami Tamimi, Jerusalem: A Cookbook, 2012)
For roasting the squash:
1 large butternut squash, peeled, seeded and cut into roughly 1-inch cubes
3 tablespoons olive oil
1 teaspoon Middle Eastern spice mix of choice
1/2 teaspoon kosher salt
For the spread:
1/4 cup red lentils
1/2 cup water
5 tablespoons tahini
1-2 garlic cloves, minced
Juice of 1/2 lemon
2-3 tablespoons extra virgin olive oil
Salt to taste
Preheat oven to 400 F. Toss the butternut cubes with the oil, spice mix and salt in a roasting pan. Cover the pan with aluminum foil and roast the squash until soft all the way through and slightly caramelized on the edges, approximately 1 hour. Cool completely.
Boil the lentils and water in a small saucepan over medium heat until the lentils have completely broken down, adding just as much water as needed to prevent them from drying out until they reach that point.
Combine the roasted squash, cooked lentils, tahini, garlic and lemon in the bowl of a food processor and pulse just until chunky. Add more lemon juice and salt as needed, then add the olive oil and pulse a few more times to combine.
Serve in a shallow bowl, garnished with an additional drizzle of olive oil, and with pita chips or crudités on the side.
Winter Harvest Plug: Fresh Seafood
Saturday, March 02, 2013
Not too long ago, I would lament that fish was either sustainably raised/caught or local, but not both. It may be that I simply wasn’t aware of my options, that those options had expanded, or both. But this past year I’ve made two very happy discoveries about seafood. First, there is the peerless Ippolito’s Seafood in South Philly. I’ve already written about this fantastic fishmonger, and if you haven’t already shopped there, do so. Second, Farm to City’s Winter Harvest Buying Club, has fresh, flash-frozen seafood by Shore Catch (caught off the coast of New Jersey) available for purchase. The options include scallops, flounder, cod, tuna, monkfish, and swordfish. Though I’ve tried them all, this was the latest delivery: sushi-grade tuna. The original recipe, from Mark Bittman, called for salmon, but any fish steak should work.
Based on Mark Bittman’s Four Spice Salmon
Salt and Pepper
1 tbsp coriander seeds
1 1/2 tsp cumin seeds
4 six-ounce tuna steaks brought to room temperature
Grind the coriander and cumin seeds with a mortar and pestle until a coarse powder forms. (You don’t want too fine a rub, or you will lose the crunch.) Salt and pepper the fish steaks and rub the spice mixture onto both sides. Film a skillet (I like to use cast iron here) with oil over medium-high heat. Cook for two minutes and each side.
Note: If you wish to have the fish fully cooked, you can preheat the oven to 400 and then put the skillet directly into the oven to finish for 4-8 minutes, depending on your preference.
Sunday, February 24, 2013
Traditional spaghetti carbonara is pasta tossed with crisped pancetta and a mixture of raw eggs and parmesan, which cooks just enough from the heat of the pasta to form a silky, creamy sauce. It’s not vegetarian-friendly, obviously, which is why when I decided to use the beautifully golden-yolked eggs from the market in a carbonara-esque dish, I had to replace the meat with something sufficiently flavorful and colorful.
The answer was a combination of shredded brussels sprouts and sun-dried tomatoes in the pasta itself, and a topping of fresh breadcrumbs, crisped in olive oil and seasoned with a combination of garlic and Spanish smoked paprika. Brussels sprouts keep well, stay wonderfully green as long as they’re not overcooked, and add both brightness and a punchy contrast in flavor. The tomatoes add both a bright pop of color and a slightly chewy texture, and the crumbs add both the missing crunch and the smokiness that comes from the pancetta in the original dish. The smokiness is further enhanced by a handful of shredded smoked cheese after the pasta is sauced.
This recipe is very, very loosely adapted from one in Deborah Madison & Edward Espe Brown’s The Greens Cookbook (1987). In theory, you could further adapt it into a still-flavorful and pretty vegan dish by leaving out the eggs and cheese, although you couldn’t really call it carbonara at that point. (Then again, most people wouldn’t consider it carbonara the minute the meat is taken out.)
Spaghetti Carbonara with Brussels Sprouts, Sun-Dried Tomatoes and Smoky Breadcrumbs
3 slices multigrain bread (the heels of the loaf are fine)
3 tablespoons olive oil
1 clove garlic, run through a microplane grater or garlic press
1/4 teaspoon smoked paprika
Salt to taste
8 ounces spaghetti
3 tablespoons olive oil
2-3 cloves garlic, minced
1/2 teaspoon red chili flakes
1 dry pint brussels sprouts, shredded
1/4 cup dried tomatoes, diced
1/4 cup grated Parmesan
1/2 cup grated smoked Gouda or other semi-firm smoked cheese
Roughly tear the bread slices and pulse in a food processor long enough to form medium-sized fresh crumbs. Warm the garlic in the olive oil in a wide nonstick sauté pan over medium heat just until the garlic begins to release its aroma, then add in the breadcrumbs and toss to evenly coat in the oil. Continue cooking, tossing or stirring frequently, until the crumbs are well-toasted and crisp, stir in paprika and salt to taste, and remove from the pan.
Boil the spaghetti in well-salted water until al dente, according to the package directions. Meanwhile, heat the garlic and chili flakes in the remaining oil in the pan until the garlic begins to color lightly. Add in the brussels sprouts, sun-dried tomatoes and a generous sprinkle of salt, sautéing just until the sprouts have wilted but remain brightly green. Taste and adjust salt as necessary.
Just before draining the pasta, quickly whisk the eggs and parmesan together in a large bowl. Drain the pasta and immediately place it into the bowl containing the egg mixture, tossing quickly with tongs to completely coat the spaghetti. Add the brussels sprouts mixture and smoked cheese and continue tossing until everything is evenly distributed and lightly coated. If the egg mixture appears too raw, return the pasta to the pan and very briefly cook, tossing continuously, to desired doneness.
Serve immediately in warmed pasta bowls, sprinkling generously with the toasted breadcrumbs.
Life Hands You A Dwarf Lemon Tree
Friday, February 08, 2013
It may seem strange to see a blog on local food in and around Philadelphia, PA include a post on lemons, but I can assure you that these lemons were grown right here in Philadelphia. More specifically, I can assure you that they were grown in my house in Queen Village. We’ve had a dwarf Meyer Lemon Tree for several years, and we’ve gotten impressive (if intermittent) fruit. Nonetheless, last Sunday I picked four lemons.
Of course, I was then left with a quandary of what to do with them. These lemons were far too special (organic! Meyer Lemons! grown in my house!) to just use for their juice or zest. So, I decided to preserve them according to River Cottage Preserves. It’s a basic recipe: salt, lemon juice, bay leaves, and black peppercorns. You sterilize a wide-mouth jar, add all of the ingredients, and then wait four weeks for the rinds to soften. It is probably the easiest preserve recipe I have ever tried.
And the results? I’ll let you know in another three weeks, but I generally prefer them diced as a condiment to fish.
For the Bleak Midwinter
Thursday, January 31, 2013
We’re in the time of year when things start looking a little bleak, produce-wise, and you start longing for spring to change things up again. That doesn’t mean you can’t create some wonderful things from the sturdy winter items that do hang around the markets this time of year, though.
This vegetarian version of cassoulet makes good use of the root vegetables and hearty greens that can easily be found, and is the perfect way to warm up on an icy, stormy night. Being vegan, very low-fat and high in all kinds of nutrients is an additional bonus, if you’re trying to stick with any New Year’s resolutions or just detox from the holiday excess.
White Bean, Parsnip and Kale Cassoulet
(Adapted from Eric Tucker & John Westerdahl, The Millennium Cookbook)
5 cups white beans, cooked or canned
1 large yellow onion, diced
2 large parsnips, peeled and diced
2 large carrots, peeled and diced
3 cups vegetable stock
1 tablespoon Dijon mustard
1 tablespoon maple syrup
1 teaspoon ground allspice
1/4 teaspoon ground cloves
1/4 teaspoon ground nutmeg
1 teaspoon dried sage
1 teaspoon dried thyme
1 teaspoon ground celery seed
1 large bay leaf
1 tablespoon sea salt
1 teaspoon ground pepper
1 bunch kale, shredded
Preheat the oven to 350 F. In a large, oven-proof pot with a lid, combine the beans and vegetables. Mix together the stock, mustard, maple syrup, herbs and spices in a large measuring cup and pour over the bean mixture. Cover with the lid and bake for 60-75 minutes, until the liquid has reduced and thickened.
Add the kale to the beans, re-cover, and bake 15-20 more minutes, until the greens are tender but not mushy. Remove the bay leaf and serve as a main course or side dish.
Easy Holiday Entertaining
Thursday, December 27, 2012
Everyone needs a quick and painless go-to dessert for entertaining, and this galette is mine, which is why I made it for Thanksgiving and again this past weekend for a holiday party. It’s lovely, elegant, and pretty much foolproof—exactly what you want during this busy and demanding season.
The very thin layer of quince jam beneath the thinly-sliced apples insulates the pastry, so it stays perfectly crisp and flaky, and it adds a nice floral note while intensifying the apples’ flavor. A very light sprinkling of fresh thyme or rosemary after the galette has been baked and glazed adds just a bit more sophistication and a lot of visual appeal.
I used Granny Smith the last time around, but you can use pretty much any kind of apple you prefer and can find at your market. If you don’t have access to quince jam and jelly (I only do because I make my own every fall, provided I can find quinces), you can substitute apple butter under the apples and use either apple jelly or apricot preserves as the glaze.
Adapted from Cook’s Illustrated, All-Time Best Recipes
2 cups unbleached all-purpose flour
2 tablespoons cornstarch
½ teaspoon sea salt
½ teaspoon granulated sugar
1 ½ sticks (12 tablespoons) cold unsalted butter, cut into ½ inch cubes
8-10 tablespoons ice water
1 cup quince jam or thick apple butter (preferably not highly spiced)
3-4 medium firm pie or eating apples of your choice
2 tablespoons cold unsalted butter, cut into very small dice
¼ cup granulated sugar
2 tablespoons quince jelly, apple jelly, or apricot preserves
1 tablespoon water
1-2 sprigs fresh thyme, stripped or 1 small sprig fresh rosemary, minced
In a large bowl, whisk together the flour, cornstarch, salt, and sugar. Using a pastry cutter, work the butter into the dry ingredients until the butter is evenly dispersed in pieces about the size of peas. Sprinkle 8 tablespoons of ice water over the dough and stir in with a fork, until a crumbly mix forms that holds together when pinched between your fingers. If necessary, add more water, 1-2 tablespoons at a time, to achieve that consistency.
Turn the dough out onto a large piece of parchment paper or a Silpat and gather into a rectangular mound around 4 inches wide and 12 inches long. Starting at the top and working your way down, push the dough away from you using the heel of your hand. Repeat this process 1-2 more times, until you have a dough that’s starting to cohere but still shows flat, thin layers of butter. Pat the dough into a rough rectangle about the size of your hand, wrap tightly in a zip-top back or plastic wrap, and refrigerate for 2 hours.
When ready to bake, roll the dough on a lightly floured piece of parchment into a rectangle around 1/8 inch thick and 16 x 12 inches long. Trim the edges, then roll them over twice to make a ½ inch border. Transfer the pastry on its parchment onto a rimmed baking sheet, then gently spread the bottom of the dough with the quince jam or apple butter in a thin, even layer. Refrigerate the pastry for about 10 minutes to chill it back down before filling and baking it.
Preheat the oven to 400F. Peel and core the apples, and cut into 6-8 segments (I use a corer-slicer for this). Slice the apples evenly and thinly into 1/8 inch slices, and, starting at one corner of the chilled dough, lay them in a single overlapping, diagonal layer completely covering the entire surface of the pastry.
Dot the apples with the 2 tablespoons of finely-diced butter, and sprinkle evenly with the ¼ cup of sugar. Bake on the middle rack of the oven for 45-55 minutes, until the apples are caramelized and the pastry is golden brown on the edges and crisp on the bottom when you gently lift up a corner. Set on a cooling rack while preparing the glaze.
In a microwave-proof container, mix together the jelly and water, and microwave until bubbling, around 1 minute. Brush the glaze over the apples, and scatter a small sprinkling of thyme leaves or minced rosemary evenly on top. Cool the galette at least 15 more minutes before slicing into 8-10 servings. Although it’s not necessary, the galette is especially nice accompanied by a spoonful of unsweetened softly whipped cream.
Conquering the Long Island Cheese Pumpkin
Sunday, December 02, 2012
There’s been a pumpkin sitting on my backporch now for three weeks. Every time I walk into my house, it glares at me and screams, “Make me into something good!” Here’s the thing: pumpkins are intimidating. They’re big and messy and usually get made into pies or other sweet things. I’m not all that into sweets, and I have nightmares about slicing my fingers off while hacking through a rock-hard winter squash.
The pumpkin is a Long Island Cheese pumpkin, also know as a Fairytale pumpkin or Tuscan pumpkin. They differ from jack-o-lantern type pumpkins in that they are generally pale orange rather than bright orange, and they are squat with a scallop shape. This heirloom variety, one of the oldest domesticated squashes, is generally not available at grocery stores (even the ones who make an attempt to carry local produce), so look for it at your local farmer’s market or grow your own. Interestingly, Philadelphia is the first place Long Island Cheese pumpkins were made commercially available—they were introduced in 1807 by Philadelphian Bernard McMahon.
But back to my pumpkin nerves.
I finally lugged the pumpkin into the kitchen today, determined to stop the mocking. It was surprisingly easy to cut, so that was a nice surprise. It’s currently roasting in the oven at 350 degrees, having been cracked into wedges and given a light sprinkling of olive oil and salt. If you’ve got a particularly tough-to-cut pumpkin or if you’re an even bigger wuss than me, you can cook the pumpkin whole. This idea comes from Plant Whatever Brings You Joy—poke a few holes in the top of the pumpkin, place in a giant pot of water, and boil until it’s fork ready.
Since I’m not a big fan of sweet pumpkin desserts, what I would make out of the Long Island Cheese pumpkin was not immediately clear. Non-sweet pumpkin dishes generally don’t leap to mind with ease, you know? I made a list, which I now replicate here for your own pumpkin-cooking enjoyment:
Black-Eyed Pea and Pumpkin Salad
Savory Pumpkin Quiche
Curried Long Island Cheese Pumpkin Soup
Stuffed Long Island Cheese Pumpkin
Pumpkin Corn and Lemongrass Soup
Pumpkin Risotto with Sage and Cherry Tomatoes
Pumpkin Lentil Stew with Fennel and Swiss Chard
Roasted Heirloom Pumpkin Hash with Chestnuts and Mulled Sorghum Glaze
Pumpkin Fritters with Rosemary and Cheese
Tea-Scented Pumpkin Soup
Pumpkin Soup with Sage and Ham
Pumpkin Lasagna with Ricotta and Swiss Chard
Chili Pumpkin Cranberry Risotto with Spicy Toasted Pumpkin Seeds
Pumpkin and Lentil in Tomato Sauce
Pumpkin and Fried Sage Flatbread
Pumpkin Bread Pudding
Pumpkin Sage Gougeres
Pumpkin Tart with Balsamic Caramelized Onions, Kalamata Olives & Thyme
Warm Pumpkin Salad with Polenta and Candied Pumpkin Seed
Pumpkin, Chickpea, and Red Lentil Stew
Roasted Pumpkin, Walnut, and Snow Pea Salad
Snow Pea and Pumpkin Stirfry
Crispy Kale and Pumpkin Coquettes
Pumpkin and Brown Rice Salad
Pretty big list, eh? I’m sure I’ve missed some things, so if you have some great non-sweet pumpkin recipes be sure to link them in them in the comments.
So what am I making with my roasted pumpkin? The first two recipes on the list, I think. And maybe something else if I have extra pumpkin. After all, it’s a pretty big pumpkin!
*photo courtesy of Jacob Spencer
Now That It’s Wassailing Season
Sunday, November 25, 2012
I’m one of those grinchy people who get very cranky about the holiday season starting earlier and earlier each year, but since we’re past Black Friday, here is my favorite recipe for mulled cider. I make it all the way up through New Year’s, because locally-pressed cider is plentiful in the markets and a pot of this warming on the stove makes the whole house smell so lovely and festive.
If you’re mulling for a party or expecting a tidal wave of carolers, the recipe can be scaled up as much as you need, and it keeps well in the fridge for days, so it can be made ahead.
1 quart apple cider
Juice of 1 orange and ½ lemon
1 ½ sticks cinnamon
4 allspice berries
Small piece of nutmeg (the end bit that’s hard to grate)
2 tablespoons maple sugar or 1 tablespoon light brown sugar
Combine all ingredients together in a medium pot and bring to a boil. Lower heat and simmer 20 minutes, or longer if preferred.
Strain out the spices and pour into mugs. If desired, add a stiff shot of rum or bourbon to each mug before serving.
Wednesday, November 21, 2012
I know many of you are either trying to get that last bit of work done before the holiday begins or you may be sitting on the New Jersey Turnpike or I-95 developing various theories on how traffic could possibly be this bad. So to cheer you up, I wanted to send out a Thanksgiving story and a recipe. Because, at the risk of cliche, we really all do have much to be thankful for.
This past Sunday, it was time to put Emerald Street Urban Farm to bed. We spread the word to all of our wonderful volunteers who took part in our worker CSA program this year to come on out for one final harvest before we cleared the land to give it a rest after a great growing season. We spent the day pulling out the rest of the peppers and eggplant, salvaging what we could. We also pulled almost all of the chard out, leaving just a small section under row cover for our own consumption this winter. We harvested all of the arugula, bunching onions, root veggies and broccoli, while leaving in the brussel sprouts and lettuce. As always, I’m a huge proponent of using the entire broccoli plant. So while the crowns went to our volunteers, we packed up all of the broccoli leaves, 2 trash bags of chard, and 3 trash bags of bunching onions for donation to St. Francis Soup kitchen. When it was all said and done, almost 100 pounds of food made it to the soup kitchen and another 30 went to our volunteers. We also saved a good amount of the harvest for the meal we cooked that night for our volunteers. We wanted to celebrate around the farm table in the outdoor kitchen, but the temperature dropped a good deal. So we all crowded around our kitchen table (we fit ten people around a table the comfortably sits 4) and we enjoyed a wonderful meal, with some wonderful volunteers and friends. Although I am looking forward to seeing my family on Thursday, I could not help feel as I sat around that table that everyone there really embodied the spirit of Thanksgiving. Again, sorry for the cheesiness, but our collectively efforts that lasted for the nine months of the growing season sent thousands of pounds of food to the soup kitchen and our plates. Living in an urban environment that inherently has a lack of green space, and a city like Philly that has such high poverty, I could not be more happier with the contribution from Emerald Street. And I hope you all get to reflect this Thanksgiving on the contribution that you make to this city or your community, and I hope you are all thankful for it.
So as promised, here’s a recipe to leave you all with. As it goes, that final harvest can be a little overwhelming. Right now we have a five gallon bucket full of green tomatoes that we are going to fry for tomorrow’s meal. But I also had an abundance of peppers that I turned into a really nice pepper relish. My recipe is:
25 Red or Green Peppers
4 cups of apple cider vinegar
2 cups of sugar
2 tablespoons of coarse salt
Dice the onions and cut the peppers into strips and then run it all through a food processor, pour boiling water over the veggies and let stand in the boiling water for ten minutes
Mix the vinegar, sugar and salt in a bowl
Drain the onions and peppers and place into a pot, mixing in the vinegar, sugar, salt mix
Set on high heat until it comes to a boil, then allow to simmer for 20 minutes
Once finished, I canned my pepper relish. In the interest of time, and desire for accuracy, I won’t give canning instructions here. But I encourage you to either check out a book on this (my favorite is The Country Living Encyclopedia) or check out a good blog (my most trusted is Marissa McClellan’s Food In Jars).
And once again, have a wonderful Thanksgiving.
A Cake for All Seasons
Friday, September 28, 2012
I love a well-executed fancy cake, all buttercream and ornamentation, but sometimes you just want a simple and basic cake, something a little sturdier and less fussy, and which makes the most of the season. This upside-down cake is all of that, and is quick and easy to throw together at the last minute besides.
I made it a month ago with plums, but the recipe can be adapted for just about any fruit. I will be making it again with pears soon, and you could make it all the way through the winter with apples until the rhubarb pops up in spring.
This recipe is for a full-sized sheet cake that serves around twenty, because I bake everything in double batches so I can feed my coworkers on Monday mornings. The quantities could easily be halved to serve a much more reasonable 8, or 4 for dinner plus plenty for breakfast the next morning.
Any-Fruit Upside-Down Cake
For fruit layer:
¼ cup unsalted butter
Generous pinch of sea salt
½ cup light brown sugar
⅓ cup heavy cream
6-7 large plums, unpeeled and cut into 6 wedges each (or equivalent amount of other fruit)
3 cups all-purpose flour
4 teaspoons baking powder
1 teaspoon sea salt
2 cups granulated sugar (preferably raw)
¾ cup buttermilk
1 tablespoon vanilla extract
1 stick unsalted butter, melted and cooled
¼ cup walnut oil (or an additional ½ stick melted butter)
Preheat the oven to 350F.
Melt the ¼ cup butter, brown sugar and salt in a large skillet over medium heat, stirring until it comes together as a caramel and bubbles. Quickly stir in the cream, turn off the heat, and fold in the plums. (If using apples, pears or other sturdier fruit, do this part on the heat and cook a minute or so to start the fruit softening just a bit.) Evenly spread the fruit and its sauce in an even layer in a nonstick, 9 x 13 rectangular cake pan.
Whisk together the dry ingredients for the cake in a medium bowl. Do the same in a glass measuring cup with the buttermilk, melted butter, walnut oil and vanilla extract.
In a large bowl, beat the sugar and eggs together until frothy. Add the dry and wet mixtures in two additions each, starting with the flour, and stirring just until mixed before the next addition. Gently pour the cake batter over the fruit layer and smooth into an even layer.
Bake 45 minutes or so, until the top is resilient to the touch and a toothpick inserted in the cake portion comes out clean. Cool the cake on a wire rack for 15 minutes, then carefully invert it onto the rack and cool the rest of the way.
Ginger Zest for Melon Soup
Sunday, September 16, 2012
This summer the melons were abundant, and my favorite way to enjoy them was in a savory chilled soup. I used a single basic template: 1 small melon, cut into chunks; 1 small cucumber, peeled seeded and cut into chucks; 3/4 cup plain yogurt; 1 small bunch of fresh herbs (usually some type of mint or basil); and salt and pepper to taste. Each time, I would like to vary it as much as I could. One night, I drizzled some Morris Kitchen’s Ginger Syrup as I might drizzle olive oil over a gazpacho. The sharpness was a nice contrast to the bland sweetness of melons. In the form of drizzled oil, there was a lovely capriciousness in the spoonful: just a trace in some spoonfuls, searing in others. The Ginger Syrup can be found at Art in the Age in Old City.
More Than Just Cheesesteaks: The Philadelphia Sandwich
Monday, August 20, 2012
Even though Philly’s hot and humid summers do not exactly lend themselves to hot sandwiches, now is the time for the perfect grilled cheese. Why? Well, I would argue that it’s all about the tomatoes. I like a grilled cheese with a slice of tomato, but the tomatoes I’m getting at market right now are as close to tomato perfection as it gets. The sandwich above is honey wheat bread (made with local honey) with Doe Run Farm fontina and heirloom tomatoes (bought from their stand at the Lansdowne Farmer’s Market)—it was my lunch today, and I’m quite happy about that.
If tomatoes aren’t your thing, I still think this is the time for grilled cheese. There are so many other vegetables that go great—zucchini, mushrooms, eggplant, and more.
We’re also really lucky to have such great dairies in the vicinity. Cheese makers are plying us with great goat cheese, fresh mozzarella, and dozens of other cheeses that melt fantastically.
My question to you: What’s your favorite combo of locally made/grown bread, cheese, and vegetable to make a summertime grilled cheese?
Posted by Nicole on 08/20 at 11:39 AM
Crab and Cucumber Soup and a Fishmonger Recommendation
Sunday, August 19, 2012
The weather may have cooled considerably, and the interminable heat wave(s) may finally be behind us, but I’m not quite ready to give up on chilled soups for the summer. So, here’s one from Nigel Slater, a chilled cucumber soup topped with crab meat. The recipe is easy to follow and accurate, but one word of advice: be sure to dice the cucumber very finely, as it will determine the consistency of your soup.
More importantly, if you’ve been looking for a fishmonger in Center City or South Philly that is as concerned about sustainable seafood as you are, try Ippolito’s Seafood. You’ll know where and how the fish was caught, and just how sustainable those methods and fish stocks are. I first learned about Ippolito’s and their business practices at a demonstration by the restaurant C19 at the annual Good Food, Good Beer, and the Rest is History (hosted by Slow Food Philly and Farm to City). Since then, I’ve been there at least once a week for oysters (raked from Virginia), swordfish (hook and line from New York), and even New Jersey fluke. I can finally try all those recipes in the River Cottage Fish Book without guilt.
Popsicles for the Brave
Wednesday, August 08, 2012
This one, I know, is a tougher sell than the blueberry-nectarine pops. It takes basically no work to convince kids and adults alike to grab a fruity, juicy treat, but it takes a significantly bolder palate to take on a brazen blend of chiles, spices, fresh mint, and seriously dark chocolate. I’m a confirmed chocoholic and a big fan of mixing in some heat, but even I second-guessed my decision when I ordered ice cream with all these elements on a vacation jaunt this time last year. The first bite, though, completely obliterated all doubts, and by the time I was scraping the bottom of the cup, I knew I was going to have to recreate that perfectly intense experience in my own kitchen somehow.
This month’s challenge provided me the opportunity to do it, since my two pots of varied mints are the only part of my herb garden that managed to just laugh in the face of the neverending heat wave of the past two months. Absolutely nothing can kill those puppies, so I constantly need to find ways to use bunches at a time. This recipe used up a giant handful of my spearmint, which I could also have achieved by steeping it in some water for iced tea, but trust me, this is a much nobler end for my weedy little leaves.
If looking at this recipe has you picturing chaos, let me describe the amazing harmony you get instead: Your first impression is the coolness of the mint, then you get the deeply fudgy denseness of the cocoa and chocolate, and then you’re hit with a warm tingle of chiles and spices. The next bite combines all of these at once, in a seamless symphony of flavors and textures very much for adults, wrapped up in the sneaky fun of eating something that deceptively looks like an innocent fudgesicle. The fact that it’s a pudding rather than an custard base means you get the dense, almost chewy texture of super-premium ice cream, and that same viscosity means there’s no drip factor even when it starts defrosting.
If you like the idea of dark chocolate infused with warm spices and cool mint but don’t want to bother with frozen treat making, hang on to this recipe for the holiday season instead. Double the quantities, spoon into pretty stemware, chill, and serve topped with barely-sweetened whipped cream and some shaved chocolate, and you’ll have a New Year’s firecracker of a dessert for eight, with almost no energy required.
Mexican Chocolate Pudding Pops
A large handful of fresh spearmint (10-12 sprigs)
1 ½ cups whole milk
⅓ cup granulated sugar
2 tablespoons Dutch cocoa
1 ½ tablespoons cornstarch
½ teaspoon ground cinnamon
¼ teaspoon ancho chile powder
⅛ teaspoon allspice
A good pinch of cayenne pepper
2 ounces excellent-quality dark chocolate, chopped
2 teaspoons vanilla extract
⅛ teaspoon almond extract
Place the mint and all but ¼ cup of the milk in a small saucepan and bring to a strong simmer. Turn off the heat and let steep for five minutes, then lift out and discard the mint.
In a medium bowl, whisk together the sugar, cocoa, cornstarch and spices. Stir in the remaining ¼ cup milk until a basically smooth paste forms, then whisk in the warm mint-infused milk. Pour the mixture back into the pan and cook over medium heat, whisking regularly, until thick, around 5 minutes.
Off the heat, whisk in the chocolate until melted through, followed by the vanilla and almond extracts. Let cool to just about room temperature, pour into popsicle molds, and insert the sticks. Freeze until solid, then unmold and offer up to your adventurous eaters.