taetopia

BBQ Jalapeno Poppers

I have been reading The Pioneer Woman Cooks for quite some time. Written by Ree Drummond, the blog features recipes intertwined with entertaining and soulful stories of life on a working ranch, caring for her kids and husband, holidays with family, and the seemingly endless number of people she knows. But it’s the photos that captivate, making the blog feel like you’re reading a photo-journal created by your best friend.

Published in October of 2009, The Pioneer Woman’s cookbook follows the blog’s visually striking theme. This is the perfect book for someone who may not feel entirely comfortable in the kitchen, with tons of gorgeous instructional photographs and a laid-back, take-it-easy style of cooking. It’s also a great book for people who love meat, meat, cream, butter, and meat, which I do.

These BBQ Jalapeño Poppers are not only delicious, but they are wickedly fun to make; probably because you know you’re about to serve your guests something irresistible. They’ve got cream cheese, cheddar cheese, bacon, and BBQ sauce. They’re about as evil as a finger food can get.

If you are judicious about removing the peppers’ veins and seeds, you’ll have no spiciness, leaving just the flavor of the jalapeño. Next time, I’d likely leave some of the veins in as I missed the heat. Ree mentions a variation to add pineapple before wrapping the poppers in bacon, which I desperately wanted to try but ran out of time. I’m a little glad about that. Glazing the bacon with BBQ sauce makes these taste like pig candy, so no extra sweetness is needed here. Lastly, do what the recipe says and use a thin cut of bacon (or pound out a thick cut). I used Niman Ranch which is cut thicker than your typical supermarket brand, and I think the bacon could be a little crisper than what I achieved.

These made a great finger-food snack for our Sunday poker game, and fulfilled a promise I made to make a jalapeño-poppers-with-bacon recipe over the weekend for my friend Kip. So, with thanks to Karol who sent me the book for my birthday, these are for you, Kip.

BBQ Jalapeño Poppers
by Ree Drummond
Adapted from The Pioneer Woman Cooks: Recipes from an Accidental Country Girl
©2009 WM Morrow

There are many different versions of these delightful pop-in-your-mouth jalapeños. My sister-in-law Missy makes a more basic version, stuffing jalapeño halves with plain cream cheese, wrapping them with bacon, and baking them slowly for half an hour or so. When she’s feeling particularly mischievous, Missy cooks them on the grill. Either way, they’re a real treat. Here’s my spin on the old classic.

Important: Wear gloves when working with fresh jalapeños or you’ll curse the ground on which I walk because you’ll wake up in the middle of the night with throbbing fingertips. And that’s nothing compared to what happens if you accidentally scratch your eye – or worse, something else.

– 18 fresh jalapeños
– One 8-ounce package cream cheese
– 1/2 cup grated cheddar cheese
– 1 green onion, sliced
– 18 slices thin bacon, cut into halves
– Bottled barbecue sauce
– Toothpicks
– Rubber gloves (or plastic bags) for working with jalapeños

1. Preheat oven to 275°F.

2. Begin by cutting jalapeños in half lengthwise (see warning in headnote). Try to keep the stems intact. They look prettier that way.

3. With a spoon, scrape out the seeds and light-colored membranes. Remember, the heat comes from the seeds and the membranes, so if you can handle the sizzle, leave some of them intact.

4. Now, in a bowl, combine the cream cheese, cheddar cheese, and chopped green onion. Mix the ingredients together gently. And don’t feel you have to use an electric mixer. I do because I’m lazy and don’t like to exert myself, ever. (Too much scrubbing clothes in the washboard, I suppose.)

5. Next, stuff each hollowed jalapeño half with the cheese mixture.

6. Wrap bacon slices around each half, covering as much of the surface as you can. Be careful not to stretch the bacon too tightly around the jalapeño, as the bacon will contract as ti cooks.

7. Brush the surface of the bacon with your favorite barbecue sauce. Chutney or apricot jelly works well, too!

8. Secure the jalapeños with toothpicks and pop them in the oven for 1 hour, or until the bacon is sizzling.

9. Serve hot or at room temperature, and watch them disappear within seconds. I’ve seriously caught guests stuffing these into their purses. Sometimes I have to call law enforcement.

Helpful Hints: Make three times more than you think you’ll need. (You’ll just have to trust me.)

Poppers can be assembled up to a day ahead of time and kept in the fridge before cooking. Or, they can be fully cooked and frozen in plastic bags until you need them. Just thaw and warm up in the oven before serving.

Unless you’re prepared to become instantly addicted, do not place two of these on your hamburger. I mean it. Don’t. There’ll be no turning back after that. (I’m dying to try this. -taetopia)

Variations:

– For a simpler version, omit the cheddar and green onion from the cream cheese.

– Cut sliced peaches or pineapple into small bits and press them into the cream cheese before wrapping the jalapeños in bacon.

– Use pepper jack cheese instead of the cheddar cheese.

Almond and Herb Baked Tilapia

My husband discovered “The 10 Things You Need to Eat” while we were passing time at a bookstore before a show. A paperback with an illustrated cover and no photos, this unassuming book has me captivated. Among the “10 things” are nine ingredients my family loves to eat: quinoa, beets, avocado, lentils, berries, spinach, tomatoes, nuts, and cabbage. I was so intrigued by the recipes, I read it cover-to-cover in one evening. Interspersed throughout is commentary about the benefits of each main ingredient. What a bonus that the recipes are not just good, they are good for you.

The “10th thing” is fish, which I am not particularly fond of, but the recipe for Almond and Herb Baked Tilapia looked intriguing.  I’m glad I tried it, because it is absolutely wonderful, and it took less than 20 minutes to prepare! Add a side of steamed vegetables (I used the microwave-in-the-bag kind), and you have a healthy dinner on the table in no time. The combination of lemon, herbs, garlic, and fish is a no-brainer, but when you add the sweetness and crunch of the nuts, you get something incredibly fragrant and filling. I could eat this several times a month. It would be a great dish to make for guests, since the fillets cook conveniently on one sheet pan in the oven, there’s not the least bit of fishy-smell, and it’ll look like you slaved for hours.

Almond and Herb Baked Tilapia
by Dave Lieberman and Anahad O’Connor
From The 10 Things You Need to Eat: And More Than 100 Easy and Delicious Ways to Prepare Them, HarperCollins, 2010
Recipe © HarperCollins 2010

Tilapia has quickly become one of the most affordable and widely available fish at the supermarket. It has sweet, mild, meaty flesh that is tender as long as you don’t overcook it. This almond and herb topping is vibrant and flavorful, and the toasted sliced almonds add some crunch. But the topping also serves double duty, locking in the moisture of the fish. Lots of good extra virgin olive oil helps the cause too! Serves 4

– 1/3 cup olive oil, plus more for drizzling
– Juice and grated zest of 1 lemon
– 1 cup sliced raw almonds
– 2 garlic cloves, minced or pressed
– 1/4 cup very finely chopped fresh parsley leaves
– Salt and freshly ground black pepper
– 4 large, thick tilapia filets (about 6 to 8 ounces each)

Preaheat oven to 400°F.

Toss the olive oil, lemon juice and zest, almonds, garlic, and parsley together in a mixing bowl, and season with salt and pepper to taste.

Place the pieces of tilapia on a large baking sheet lined with aluminum foil. Season lightly with salt and pepper and drizzle lightly with olive oil.

Divide the almond and herb mixture among the four pieces of fish and smooth the mixture over each piece to create an even coating.

Bake until the almond mixture has browned slightly and the fish is cooked through and flakes easily, about 15 minutes.

Just three ingredients for the perfect tomato sauce!

Tomato sauce should be simple, don’t you think? At its root it is merely tomatoes that have been broken down, often using heat, to produce a sauce for pasta, vegetables, or meat, or used as an ingredient such as for simmering meatballs. But the food media has managed to impress upon us, as it often does, that the best tomato sauce should require a fifteen-step, ten-ingredient, five-hour-long recipe.

I am one of the easily impressed upon, and for years have tried to create a great tomato sauce which maintained the integrity of the tomatoes, while presenting complex flavor. Something bright yet rich, substantial yet delicate. I have begun with a sofrito, whole, or diced ingredients, and tried any combination of carrots, onions, garlic, peppers, celery, thyme, basil, sage, oregano, olive oil, ad infinitum, in a vain attempt to come up with a tomato sauce that would make people swoon.

Well, I have finally found the elusive recipe for the perfect tomato sauce. It has three ingredients (four, if you add salt), there is no chopping or sauteing, and takes just 45 minutes to cook. Seriously.

The recipe is attributed to Marcella Hazan’s Essentials of Classic Italian Cooking, a book I owned, regrettably never cooked from, and as I can not find it on my shelves, has probably found its way to the library’s used book bin. I first read about this sauce in late January on Smitten Kitchen, who links to several other bloggers who have tried it over the years, from Amateur Gourmet (2005), to Rachel Eats (2010). It has appeared on the forums of Cook’s Illustrated, and on epicurious.com, twice. In fact, it has been reprinted so many places, I’m embarrassed it escaped my notice.

The fantastic flavor makes it seem like there must be spices or herbs among the ingredients. If you ask someone to guess what is in it, they won’t be able to. While the tomatoes hold their body, the binding is like velvet. It is rich without being overwhelming in the least. From now on, it is our house red.

Tomato Sauce with Butter and Onions
Attributed to Marcella Hazan, Essentials of Classic Italian Cooking, Knopf

– One 28 ounce can whole peeled tomatoes (preferably San Marzano if you have them)
– 5 tablespoons unsalted butter
– 1 medium-sized onion, peeled and halved
– Salt, to taste

1. Place tomatoes, butter, and onion in a saucepan over medium heat, and bring to a simmer.

2. Cook, uncovered, at a slow, steady simmer for 45 minutes, or until droplets of fat separate from the tomatoes. Stir occasionally, crushing the tomatoes with the back of a wooden spoon against the inside of your saucepan.

3. Discard the onion. Salt to taste. Keep warm while you prepare your pasta, and serve.

A few notes regarding the recipe:
– If that much butter alarms you, know that each tablespoon of butter is just slightly more than 100 calories. This recipe makes over 3 cups of sauce, or about 4 to 5 servings, so there’s not much to fear unless you are on a no-fat diet or going to eat this every day.
– Salt. This would make the fourth ingredient, if you use it. Unbelievably, I did not use any at all. I found no need for it. This, coming from a woman who may well beat Lot’s wife in salt content by body weight.
– Some posts mention to add Parmigiano cheese. I tried adding some after a few bites of pasta and plain sauce. I say go naked. The cheese nearly ruined it. Yes, I did just say cheese nearly ruined something.
-taetopia

Butter, onion, tomato. That's it.

Cooked for 45 minutes.

Eat.

Potato, Red Pepper, and Goat Cheese Napoleon

A traditional napoleon is a luxurious dessert. Layers of puff pastry and custard or whipped cream, often interspersed with berries, topped with fondant or powdered sugar. It is meant to be admired before eating. Just looking at one brings to mind images of royal powdered faces with stained lips. The pastry gives some resistance and crackles as the side of one’s fork bares down to make the first cut, just before the pastry layers give way and the custard oozes from its trappings, making an orgasmic mess of the dish.

To the best of my recollection, in the early 90s, somewhere a chef decided to translate the napoleon into a savory dish and added the vegetable napoleon to their menu, sparking a glut of vegetable napoleons nationwide. Then came the napoleons with ragu or duck confit. There wasn’t a menu without a savory napoleon on it. Anything that was layered was now called a napoleon.

I instantly fell in love with vegetable napoleons, their flavors and variety; but after seeing them everywhere for several years, they became a little corny and passe. Though I still spy one here or there, it seems their time in the limelight has passed.

I was thinking of this the other day when I decided to attempt to recreate the layers of a napoleon with what I had on hand. The potatoes became the crisp layer, an herbed goat cheese the custard, and the roasted peppers and caramelized onion the fruit, topped with a layer of melted parmigiano cheese. These are classic flavors, and the assembly created that same orgasmic mess the dessert does. Of my two tasters, one commented that, while delicious, the instability of the layers wasn’t to his taste, while the other declared this was her new favorite dish. Personally I felt the experiment a great success. Served with a green salad with a balsamic vinaigrette, it made for a visually appealing and deliciously satisfying dinner.

Napoleon of Crisp Potato, Goat Cheese, Roasted Red Pepper, and Caramelized Onions

Makes 3 napoleons

– 2 red bell peppers
– 3 oz. soft goat cheese, room temperature
– 2 tablespoons sour cream
– 1 tablespoon finely chopped fresh basil
– 2 tablespoons butter
– 2 tablespoons extra virgin olive oil
– 3 small yellow onions, peeled, halved, and sliced thin
– 1 teaspoon sugar
– 2 large russet potatoes
– 2/3 cup parmigiano-reggiano cheese, grated

1. Preheat a broiler and place the peppers directly under the heating element, turning occasionally until the skin is black and blistered. Remove peppers from the oven and set aside to cool (you may wish to put a narrow cut in the top of the pepper to release the steam). Reduce the oven temperature to 450 degrees. Once the peppers are cool enough to handle, peel them, keeping the flesh in large pieces.

2. While the peppers are broiling, cream together the goat cheese, sour cream, and basil, with a pinch of salt and a few grounds of black pepper to taste. Set aside at room temperature.

3. Melt the butter and one tablespoon of the olive oil in a skillet at medium-high heat. Add the onions and the sugar. Once the onions have wilted a bit, before they are brown, turn the heat down to medium-low. Cook, stirring occasionally, until brown and caramelized, approximately 45 minutes.

4. Slice potatoes no more than 1/4 inch thick. Place in a bowl with a tablespoon of olive oil and a teaspoon of salt, rubbing the oil and salt over the potato slices. Arrange 9 large center-slices on a baking rack on a baking sheet. Bake for 15 minutes at 450 degrees. Once they are fork-tender, increase the oven temperature to 500 degrees. use a spatula to loosen the potatoes from the rack, and bake for another 5 to 10 minutes until lightly browned and slightly puffed. Remove the baking sheet from the oven. (I baked the remaining slices until crispy and ate them as chips. You can also use them to make more napoleons, if desired.) Set the oven temperature to broil.

5. In assembly-line fashion, working carefully (hold the potato slices with tongs if too hot to handle), working on the same rack the potatoes were baked on, spread three of the potato slices with a thick layer of the goat cheese mixture, one layer of pepper slices, and a heaping tablespoon full of the onions. Add another potato slice, and repeat the layering. Top the second layer with a potato slice, and then with a third of the parmigiano. Place the napoleons under the broiler just until the cheese melts and gets lightly brown. Keep an eye on them, they brown very quickly. Serve hot, along with a side salad with a vinegary dressing, or the napoleons may be served as a side dish to an entree.

Polenta, Creamed Spinach, Egg

It all started innocently enough with an email from a friend. Her husband asked her for creamed spinach, and, overwhelmed by the 147,000 (as Googled) creamed spinach recipes, she asked if I had a recipe. However, there was a twist, “Preferably a truffle oil and no nutmeg or no cheese variety.” It has been for-ev-er since I’ve made a basic creamed spinach. Not since I fell absolutely in love with Ina Garten’s recipe for spinach gratin, which of course has nutmeg and cheese, and which you should make immediately because it is delicious.

In any event, I set out to make creamed spinach that very evening so I could give her an actual recipe rather than instructions for winging it, or giving her something I hadn’t tried. The easiest possible recipe is to saute some spinach in butter until it is nicely wilted, and then add some warm cream, salt, and pepper. But I wanted to give her something richer, creamier, more of the steakhouse variety. I couldn’t leave out the nutmeg. I think it absolutely belongs in creamed spinach, as it brings out the flavors of the sauce, but whatever you do in your kitchen is up to you. You could also drizzle a little truffle oil over it once it’s finished as an added touch.

But then, once I had an entire pot of creamed spinach, what would I do with it? Sure, I could be a glutton and eat it out of the pot standing at the kitchen counter, but I thought there must be some dish I could make with it, rather than just having it as the side to a steak. So I went shopping in my refrigerator. Aha! some polenta I had put in a dish to set after having it soft with sausages earlier in the week, and an egg.

I made the creamed spinach and set it aside to cool. I sauteed a round of polenta until it was extra-crispy on the outside,  topped it with some creamed spinach, and finished it off with an over easy egg. It is a pretty magical, satisfying dish, appropriate for any time of the day. With the addition of truffle oil, this would make a wonderful special-occasion brunch dish.

Crispy Polenta Cake Topped with Creamed Spinach and Over Easy Egg

This recipe makes 4 to 6 servings of creamed spinach, which may be prepared and reheated up to two days ahead. Although the description here is for one serving, obviously you may use as many rounds of polenta and eggs to make however many servings you require. You will have enough creamed spinach for at least six servings of polenta with spinach and egg.

For the creamed spinach:
– 1.5 lbs. baby spinach
– 8 oz. whole milk
– 4 oz. heavy cream
– 1/2 medium yellow onion, finely chopped
– 1 large clove garlic, minced
– 1/4 stick (2T) butter
– 2 Tablespoons flour
– 1/4 teaspoon freshly grated nutmeg

1. Bring 1.5 inches of water to boil in a very large pot. Salt the water well, add the spinach. Cover the pot for a moment to begin wilting, remove the lid, and stir the spinach gently until well wilted – approx. 1/3 to 1/4 of the volume you started with.

2. Drain the spinach in a colander, immediately running cold water over it to cool. When drained and cool enough to handle, squeeze the water out of it in handfuls, putting the squeezed spinach in a medium bowl lined with a paper towel as you go. Once thoroughly drained, chop the spinach into large pieces. Don’t worry that the spinach is stuck together, as it will come apart when added to the sauce.

3. Heat the milk and cream in a small saucepan over medium heat (or in the microwave – I heated it for 2.5 minutes at 3% power). Do not boil or simmer, you just want it warm.

4. Meanwhile, melt the butter over medium-low heat in a medium saucepan, and cook the onion and garlic until very soft, approximately 5 minutes.

5. Add the flour to the pot with the onions and garlic, and cook this together, stirring often, for a few minutes on low to cook the roux – you don’t want this to brown (although it will be fine if it does). It will be a pretty solid mass, break it into bits as you stir it.

6. Slowly add the heated milk/cream, whisking like a fiend to make sure there are no lumps. Cook this for 3 to 5 minutes or so. It will be relatively thick, like a thin porridge. If it is too thick, add more milk.

7. Add salt, pepper, and nutmeg. Add the spinach in batches, stirring to blend well. Cook this for another 3 to 5 minutes, stirring often, until warmed throughout.

Set this aside while you prepare the rest of the dish. Alternatively, this can be cooled and refrigerated, and reheated the next day. Of course, the creamed spinach may be served as a side dish to any entree, or eaten out of the pot standing over the kitchen counter.

For the Crispy Polenta Cake, and Assembling the Dish:

If you have not made polenta, it is incredibly easy. Mark Bittman has a great video on making polenta that can be found here. Once you have cooked, soft polenta, spread it in an approximately 1 inch thick layer in a pan and place in the refrigerator to cool until set. Alternatively, use prepared polenta, which you may find sold in the supermarket, packaged in a cylindrical tube.

Use a cookie cutter or rim of a large glass to cut a 3 inch round of set polenta. Alternatively, use a knife to cut any shape you wish, or slice a 1 inch thick slice of prepared polenta. Heat approximately two teaspoons of extra-virgin olive oil in a small, nonstick skillet over medium-high heat. Add the polenta cake and saute until golden and crispy on the outside. (If sauteing several rounds, increase the amount of olive oil, using a larger pan). Set polenta cake on a serving dish and top with creamed spinach. Rinse the saute pan so you can use it to cook your egg.

Prepare the egg(s). (If you would like instruction on preparing an over easy egg, I like this video from SeriousEats.com.) Top the creamed spinach and polenta cake with the egg. Season the dish with a grind or two of freshly ground black pepper. Serve immediately.

Crispy Polenta Cake

Crispy Polenta Cake Topped with Creamed Spinach

The Assembled Dish

Eat

In the first week of January, there was a tweet in my Twitter feed from Amy I., writer of the Playing House blog, that read, “Seriously you guys, run, don’t walk to make these chile cheese corn muffins from The Freckled Citizen.” OK, so I walked; but when I finally got there it was worth it.

These are savory muffins, with a crisp, sweet crust. The green chiles lend just a bit of heat and peppery flavor, while the corn kernels add an exciting texture and a cooling component to the spiciness of the chiles. Blue cornmeal has an earthy, less-sweet flavor than its yellow cousin, and gives the muffins a unique southwestern color. They are wonderful served as an accompaniment to chili con carne or black-bean soup, or simply on their own, warmed with a bit of cold butter for breakfast.

The original recipe is from the “Santa Fe School of Cooking Cookbook,” a book I do not own but is now high on my wish list.

Blue Corn Muffins
with Chile and Cheese
by Susan D. Curtis
From The Santa Fe School of Cooking Cookbook, Gibbs Smith, 1998
© Gibbs Smith, 1998

Yields 6 extra-large muffins, 12 large muffins, or 18 small muffins.

– 1/2 cup softened butter
– 1/2 cup sugar
– 5 large eggs
– 1/2 cup buttermilk (milk may be substituted)
– 1 cup all-purpose flour
– 1 cup blue cornmeal
– 2 teaspoons baking power
– 1 teaspoon salt
– 1 cup fresh or frozen corn kernels
– 1 cup grated Monterey Jack cheese
– 3/4 cup roasted, peeled, diced green chile*

1. Preheat oven to 375 degrees. Grease muffin tins well or insert paper liners.
2. In the bowl of an electric mixer, cream together the butter and sugar until smooth.
3. In another bowl, mix together the dry ingredients. Add the dry ingredients to the butter and sugar.
4. In a separate bowl, whisk together the eggs and buttermilk. Slowly mix wet ingredients into the dry ingredients.
5. Stir in the corn, cheese, chiles and mix well. Spoon the batter into muffin tins. Bake about 25 minutes, until just firm.

* Chiles should be prepared prior to assembling the batter. For this recipe, I used two poblano chiles. You could ramp up the heat by adding a roasted jalapeño or two. There are several ways of roasting chiles, but in this instance I pre-heated the broiler with the oven’s rack in the topmost position, then placed the peppers directly under the heating element. I turned the peppers with tongs occasionally, and carefully, until they were blistered and black on all sides, then removed them from the oven. When they were cool enough to handle, I removed the blackened skin, stem, and seeds, and diced the flesh. -taetopia

Pasta, Sugo, and Turkey Meatballs

“Oh, Lidia, this is never going to fit!” That’s me, brow furrowed, wooden spoon in hand, peering into my 3 qt. saute pan, talking to Lidia Bastianich as channeled through her book, Lidia’s Family Table. I believe I said that three times over the course of making this recipe. For some reason, it just doesn’t look like you can possibly fit any more ingredients in the pan, but by magic, and by the diligence of a good recipe tester, it all works out.

Chef Bastianich’s cookbook, true to its name, is full of recipes that will feed six or more. There are several recipes, such as this sugo, that describe one base recipe and then several variations or uses for it. For instance, she mentions this sugo is good “as a topping for a big bowl of dressed pasta,” “as a meat course with vegetables,” “in a risotto, using the sauce and broken-up meatballs,” etc. Among the expected recipes for pasta, polenta, and soup, there are some lovely vegetable recipes, such as roasted eggplant and tomato salad, and grilled corn and figs with balsamic reduction, and hearty dishes such as rabbit cacciatore.

With cinnamon, pine nuts, and raisins, the aroma and flavor of this sugo and meatballs are reminiscent of Middle Eastern cuisine. Although these ingredients typically fall into the sweet spectrum, their sweetness is tempered  by the vegetables of the soffrito and the acid of the tomatoes. I found the flavors of this dish refreshingly unexpected and interesting. The sauce is thick but not cloying, and coats the pasta (should you decide to serve it with pasta) beautifully. But the most incredible thing about this dish is the texture of the meatballs themselves. While sturdy and toothsome on the outside, they are incredibly soft and moist inside. Be forewarned, this is *not* your usual tomato-y sauce with beef or beef/pork/veal meatballs. If you are looking for the typical tomato-sauce and meatballs recipe, this is not it.

This recipe fit the bill as a winter-housewarming recipe (important criteria when it’s less than 40° F. outside), a meal to have together as a family, and the very important opportunity for leftovers. This makes enough for three meals for my family of three. It would have made four, except we ate a half dozen of the meatballs standing over the pot while we were tasting…for research, of course.

The recipe begins by making a soffritto. This is a vegetable base for the sauce, made by finely mincing various vegetables and softening them in the pan, before putting the tomatoes and broth in. Although the recipe says to cook the vegetables approximately four minutes, I cooked them longer. Make sure your vegetables are very soft, or else they will simply be hard pits in your sauce, rather than disintegrating into the tomatoes. In addition, when toasting the tomato paste, make sure it gets nicely browned. The whole concoction of vegetables and tomato paste when mixed together should be slightly darker orange-brown than the color of a basketball.

You’ll want very good ventilation for frying the meatballs, else your house may take on the odor of an Italian street fair for a while. However, Chef Bastianich makes note in her book that the meatballs don’t have to be fried (although I feel you will very definitely miss the texture). If you decide not to fry them, she says to increase the sauce by at least a third (or decrease the meatballs by a third) so that they have plenty of sauce to cook in.

Do not be put-off by the length of this recipe. While there are several steps and many ingredients, the directions are all relatively simple. If you love to cook, you’ll have a lot of fun making this dish. And remember, when you’re looking into the pan feeling certain that another quart of stock or three-dozen meatballs will not ever fit into your 3 qt. pot, believe me, it will.

Note: In the cookbook Lidia’s Family Table, Chef Bastianich includes a variation of this sugo with sausage meatballs. I have omitted directions for that recipe from this text.

Long-Cooked Sugo and Meatballs
by Lidia Matticchio Bastianich
from Lidia’s Family Table
© Knopf, 2004

About 2 quarts of sugo, to cook and serve with 3 dozen meatballs.

Frying the Soffritto and Starting the Sugo

For the soffritto
– 6 tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil
– 2 medium onions (3/4 pound), minced in a food processor
– 3 or 4 plump shallots, minced in a food processor
– 2 or 3 fat garlic cloves, minced in a food processor
– 1 large carrot, minced in a food processor
– 2 large stalks celery, minced in a food processor
– 5 or 6 fresh bay leaves
– 1/4 cup tomato paste

For the sugo
– One 35-ounce can San Marzano plum tomatoes and juices, passed through a food mill (4 cups)
– 8 to 12 cups or more hot Turkey Broth, Simple Vegetable Broth, or plain hot water (recipes for the broths are in the book, I used my own vegetable stock)
– 1/2 teaspoon salt, plus more if needed
– 1 cinnamon stick

Pour the olive oil into the pan, drop in the onions and shallots, and set over medium-high heat. Stir for a minute or two, until the onions begin to sizzle.

Drop the garlic into a hot spot and spread it out to caramelize for a minute, then stir with the onions. Stir in the carrot and celery, and get them cooking; drop in the bay leaves and cook the soffritto for another 4 minutes until it is starting to dry out. Lower the heat if necessary to prevent burning.

Push the vegetables to the side and drop the tomato paste into a hot spot. Toast it for a minute or more, then blend it into the soffritto. Pour in the milled tomatoes and juices, and stir; slosh the tomato container with a cup of hot broth or water and stir that in too. Bring the sauce to a boil quickly, and cook over medium-high heat for 5 minutes or more, stirring frequently, until it has just begun to thicken.

Pour in 4 cups of the hot broth, stir it in, and note now the level of the liquid in the pan: this is about the level that the sugo should be at the very end of cooking, after the meatballs have been removed. Stir in another quart of the broth, and bring to a lively boil.

Submerge the cinnamon stick in the sauce. Cover the pot and adjust the heat to maintain a steady but gentle bubbling all over the surface of the sugo . Let it cook for at least an hour or longer, checking the pot every 20 minutes or so. It should be redicuing steadily. If it’s barely dropping, or not at all, raise the heat and set the cover ajar ot speed its concentration. If it’s dropping extremely fast, lower the heat to slow the evaporation. Add hot broth or water if needed to keep the sauce at the level you want.

Make the turkey meatballs while the sugo cooks. Once they are finished, complete the recipe as follows:

Have the sugo at a gentle simmer over low heat when the meatballs are fried and ready to go into the saucepan. Have hot broth or water on hand if needed. Drop the meatballs in one at a time; fit as many as you can in the bottom of the pan in one layer, but leave enough space to roll them around. Drop the rest of the meatballs in to make a second layer. Add hot broth or water if necessary so the meatballs are covered with liquid. Stir gently to mix the broth with the sugo – don’t break the meatballs! Cover the pan and raise the heat slightly to bring the sugo back to a simmer. Set the cover ajar and adjust heat to maintain steady simmering (but no threat of burning the meat on the bottom), and cook the meatballs for 35 to 40 minutes.

Turn off the heat and let the meatballs cool in the sugo and absorb more of its flavor (unless you need them right away). When cool, remove them to a big bowl. If the sauce is thin (probably well above the 2-quart mark), return it to a boil gradually and cook it uncovered to thicken. Stir frequently as it thickens; reduce it to the 2-quart level, or to whatever consistency you like – that’s the most important guideline. Taste the sauce during this final cooking, and add salt, if needed, or adjust the other seasonings.

Serve sauce and meatballs right away if you want. Otherwise, pack the meatballs in containers with enough sugo to cover and the rest of the sauce in separate containers. Portion them, for convenience, in the amounts you’ll use in different dishes. Store in the refrigerator for 4 days, or for several months in the freezer.

Making Turkey Meatballs with Pine Nuts and Golden Raisins

– 1 1/2 tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil
– 1 medium onion, finely chopped (about 3/4 cup)
– 1/2 teaspoon salt, plus more as needed
– 4 slices dried white bread from a sandwich or big Italian loaf
– 1 to 2 cups milk
– 3 pounds ground turkey meat
– 3 large eggs, well beaten with a pinch of salt
– 2 tablespoons chopped fresh Italian parsley
– 1 1/2 tablespoons porcini powder (to make porcini powder, place dried porcini in a spice or coffee grinder, and pulverize them as fine as possible – for more notes on porcini, see Lidia’s Family Table)
– 1/2 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper, or to taste
– 3/4 cup golden raisins, plumped in warm water and drained
– 3/4 cup pine nuts, toasted in a dry skillet

Pour the olive oil into a medium skillet, drop in the minced onions, sprinkle with a pinch of salt, and set over medium-high heat, stirring until they begin to sizzle. Lower the heat and cook for 4 to 5 minutes, stirring occasionally, until the onion is wilted and slightly dry (but not colored). Scrape out of the pan and let cool.

Break up the dry bread slices into pieces roughly an inch or two across – you should have almost 4 cups – and put them in a shallow bowl or baking dish. Pour enough milk over to cover them, and soak for 4 to 5 minutes. When the pieces are completely soft, gather them in your hands and firmly squeeze out all the milk; you should have almost 1 cup of densely packed moist bread.

Loosen  up the turkey meat if it’s been compressed in packaging; spread it out in a large mixing bowl. Pour the beaten eggs on top, sprinkle on the parsley, porcini powder, salt, and freshly ground pepper. Scatter the drained raisins and pine nuts on the meat, then spread the cooled wilted onions on top. Break up the clump of wet bread, spreading little bits over the meat. Now fold, toss, and squeeze the meat and seasonings together with your hands and fingers to distribute all the ingredients evenly.

Spread the flour about 1/4 inch deep in the center of a baking sheet.

Pour vegetable oil into a large, heavy skillet or saute pan – 12 inches in diameter if possible – to a depth of at least 1/3 inch.

Scoop up a portion of meat with a small ice-cream scoop, a large spoon, or your fingers. Lightly shape the meat between your palms into 2-inch balls, a bit larger than golf balls (or whatever size you like). Drop each ball onto the floured sheet, roll it around until coated, then place it on another baking sheet. Form and flour all the meat balls in this manner.

Set the skillet over heigh heat until the oil is very hot. With tongs or a spatula, carefully transfer meatballs to the pan, as many as you can, leaving at least an inch or so between them. Cook for a minute or two, until they’ve starged to brown on the bottom, then turn them continuously – watch out for oil spatters – until golden-crusted on all sides, about 6 minutes. As they are done, transfer the fried meatballs to a baking sheet (I set them on a cooking rack atop a baking sheet to keep them dry – T). When all the meatballs are on the tray, sprinkle salt lightly over them (just a couple of pinches in all).

Note: The meatballs will finish cooking in the sauce; they are fried just until a golden crust forms. So, if you intend to eat them as is instead, be sure to fry them longer, until they are cooked through.

Before frying the next batch, turn off the heat and, with a fine-meshed skimmer or strainder, remove any browned bits from the oil. Add oil if needed to restore the 1/3 inch depth and heat it up again. (I must admit, I completely skipped this step. I found there was plenty of oil to fry 3 dozen meatballs in about four or five batches)

When all the meatballs are fried, cook them with the sugo following the instructions above.

Juicy Roast Chicken and Green Beans

I know I said I’d cook more using recipes from my vast collection of cookbooks, but it was just one of those days. At work, tired, wanting something healthy and delicious to eat for dinner, but not wanting to cook. I knew I needed something to blog about, but whatever; the blog post could wait. I was thinking perhaps I’d pick up a rotisserie chicken from the local rotisserie chicken place or from Whole Foods and be done with it. No pans to clean, no carving, no hassle. That’s when I ran across a blog post by Michael Ruhlman, “America: Too Stupid To Cook,” and hung my head in shame.

The point of Mr. Ruhlman’s article is a bit different than this post, which is meant to give weeknight cooking a bit of perspective, but worth noting. Briefly, Mr. Ruhlman’s point is that Americans are made by the media to feel as if they aren’t talented enough to put a meal on the table unless it comes from a microwaveable box, or if they are specifically told a recipe is easy. I can’t agree with him more. Even shortcuts from shows like The Food Network’s 30 Minute Meals may overwhelm many. We never seem to have all the ingredients, and frankly it seems like so much work. To some, watching Rachael Ray, the show’s host, make one meal in her perfectly-organized kitchen with plenty of counter space is akin to watching a short-order cook assemble 20 breakfasts simultaneously. It’s daunting, and makes people uncomfortable in their own kitchens. (Note that I disagree with Ruhlman’s putdown of 30 Minute Meals. Watching Ms. Ray cook, or for that matter exist on this planet, may be akin to enduring nails on a blackboard (my thoughts, not his), but for the most part the show provides relatively-healthy, well-rounded recipes, that do involve “real cooking.” More power to her producers if the show actually does motivate some people to get past their fears and into their kitchens to cook.) Mr. Ruhlman goes on to state, “…the notion that cooking is hard and that it takes a long time and we’re just too stupid to cook is wrong.”

Which brings me to my point. Left to their own devices with only an oven and a piece of meat, I’m pretty sure anyone can figure out that they need to turn the oven on and put the meat inside the oven to cook it. But because people are hammered by TV, websites, magazines, and cookbooks with a million techniques, they become frightened and don’t cook at all. A million questions are then asked: What temperature do I cook the meat? It doesn’t matter much – either a low temperature for a long time or a higher temperature for a shorter time. Do I need to marinate? Nice, but not necessary. What about seasonings? Salt and pepper do just fine. When is it done? When it is cooked. Really, stop worrying! Block out the noise in your head. Do what feels right. Our grandparents did not have the luxury of meat thermometers, or ovens that told (or even held) an actual temperature, or a bookstore filled with hundreds of cookbooks, or exotic ingredients just a click away. They simply put real food on the table. That’s what we should aspire to.

To continue with the story of the chicken, my personal shame after reading Mr. Ruhlman’s article came not from a feeling that I couldn’t cook. My shame came from knowing that I can cook a perfectly delicious, healthy meal, without much trouble, and that I was choosing not to because I was tiiirrreeed. I’ve been choosing to do this for most of my adult life, and I should have learned by now that this is a terrible waste on so many levels. Don’t get me wrong, if you’re going to go the fast-food route, a rotisserie chicken is possibly one of the best options. But for me, someone with easy access to good ingredients, who knows how ridiculously simple it can be to roast a chicken, it seemed silly. I was about to spend too much money for too little food, with questionable nutritional value, for poultry that was probably raised in a factory. I decided I would get over myself and roast a chicken.

But, wait. Why just one chicken? Roasting one chicken is just as easy as roasting two, and if I roasted two I could make chicken salad the next day. And then if I had two roasted chicken carcasses, I could make quite a bit of chicken stock, which could go into soups and sauces. All of this would come from maybe 45 minutes of hands-on work all told. Here’s how it went:

Roast Chicken:

• On my way home from work, I purchased two small chickens, about 2.75 lbs. each. (I find smaller chickens remain far more moist than their bigger siblings, and they feed my family of three perfectly.)
• As soon as I arrived home, before I even changed my clothes, I turned the oven to 475 degrees F.
• While the oven was heating, I cut two peeled medium onions, a couple of unpeeled carrots, and two stalks of celery into large chunks, threw them into a roasting pan, drizzled some olive oil, salt, and pepper on them, and tossed the vegetables with my hands. This would serve as the rack for the chicken, and provide some additional flavor. If I had potatoes, those would have gone in too, and I would have served roast potatoes with my chicken. But I had no potatoes, oh well. Next time! (Have no vegetables? No worries, leave them out.)
• I patted the chicken dry with paper towels. I cut two lemons in half and shoved one half of a lemon into each of the chickens. The other halves I squeezed over the chicken and vegetables and tossed into the pan. (I love lemon with poultry, and I nearly always have lemons in the house. If you don’t have lemons, don’t worry about it – skip ’em!)
• I shoved a half handful of rosemary and thyme in the cavity with the lemons. (I have rosemary and thyme plants in my home. You could also use a couple of tablespoons of dried herbs. Any combination of herbs is good here – oregano, sage, etc. Or you could skip the herbs altogether should you not have any at hand or are feeling particularly lazy.)
• I drizzled olive oil on the chickens, then some salt and pepper, gave them a good rub down, and tied their little legs together. (I only truss a chicken to keep the leg meat from shrinking off the bones, and it keeps the birds shape nicer. If you have no twine, or have little inclination, it is not necessary.)
• I put the roasting pan with the vegetables and the chickens into the oven and immediately turned the temperature down to 400 F.
• For the next hour and ten minutes, I changed into more comfortable clothes and fiddled about on my computer a while. I figured I should check the birds for doneness just about an hour after I had put them in the oven. No need – I actually smelled a distinct difference in the aroma of the house. I ran downstairs, tested the thigh meat with a meat thermometer and pulled the birds out to let them rest. (No thermometer? Pull the leg away from the body just a bit and see if the juices run clear. No pink juice means they’re done!)
• While the chickens were lying about, I put a bag of frozen green beans in the microwave to steam per the directions, dumped them in a bowl with a bit of butter and salt.
• I then carved the chicken, and we ate. (“Carved” sounds more elegant than it was, which was more like tearing it apart with my hands. Chickens this small stay pliant and nearly fall into pieces.)

Roast Chickens Ready for Roasting

Roasted Chickens

Ultimately, the only thing you *need* here is an oven, a chicken, a roasting pan, and some salt and pepper. I know some people would not use salt at all, but that’s completely against my culinary principles.

If you want to make things complicated, possibly the best roast chicken I’ve ever made was the one from the Zuni Cafe Cookbook. You can see an adapted recipe here. This will require salting the chicken a day ahead, preheating a pan, searing the breast, etc. It is not difficult, and it’s definitely worth cooking, but it’s not necessarily something I’d want to tackle during the week.

The next evening I made chicken salad from the second chicken. This cranberry walnut version is a delicious recipe that takes only a few minutes to make. Chicken salad is super easy – it’s just diced chicken tossed with a perked-up mayonnaise dressing.

Two days later I made chicken stock. I pulled the skin/fat off the backs of the carcasses, cut some carrot, celery, and shallot (I didn’t have onions) into pieces, bundled some thyme and a bay leaf, put it all in a pot and covered it all with cold water. I left it on a high simmer for three hours. Because we did such a good job eating the chicken, there was very little protein or fat to skim off. I would up with four quarts of beautiful chicken stock!

Two chickens, several meals, and a valuable lesson learned. It truly didn’t take much effort to feed me and my family a few wholesome meals, and it cost significantly less money than take-out. So while I’ll continue with the cookbook experiment, you’ll definitely be seeing these toss-it-together weeknight recipes as often.

When I was a child and young teen, among my favorite dishes were my mother’s beef stew and Yankee pot roast. My mother is a fantastic cook all around, and in those days, as a single mother working long hours, with both of us hating the chill of winter, braises took care of three essentials: Less time in the kitchen, plenty of leftovers to eat for the week, and the warming of our bones. I’m not certain she made braises for that purpose consciously, it’s just common sense. About braises, these essentials hold true.

Then there were the hours upon torturous hours that my mother would leave the roast braising all day, and with the air permeated with the aroma of beef, wine and bay, I’d be salivating for what seemed like forever. Worse, there was no eating it the same night, as it would be better the next day. Oh, the agony of waiting!

So it is hardly surprising that I should fall in love with “All About Braising,” by Molly Stevens. In my opinion, the finest book on braising I’ve encountered. From the why and wherefore to technique; from what cuts of meat to clear, concise recipes that work. If you are as much of a fan of braised dishes as I am, this is the book for you.

In addition to beef recipes, there are several for vegetables, seafood, pork, lamb, and chicken. The hearty chicken and herb dumplings are fabulous comfort food, and the pork pot roast with apricots, cardamom and ginger is a feast for the senses. I’ve probably cooked more from this book in the couple of months I’ve owned it than any other new book in the same period of time.

As the dreadful cold appears to have settled in for the foreseeable future, I highly recommend this mouth-watering pot roast to treat the symptoms of winter. By adding the root vegetables late in the braising process, they retain their flavor, enhanced by the herbs and braising liquid, and become rather meaty themselves. I served it along buttery mashed potatoes. What’s that you ask? Why yes, there are potatoes in the pot roast as well. One can never have too many potatoes.

This recipe has instructions to broil the roast in order to brown it. I skipped this and browned the roast directly in the braising pan on the stove. I felt the flavor of the fond (the brown bits left behind in the pan from browning meat) would enhance the flavor of the pot roast, as I was using store bought stock, which always needs a little help in the flavor department.

Yankee Pot Roast Redux
by Molly Stevens
from All About Braising: The Art of Uncomplicated Cooking
© W. W. Norton & Company, 2004

Serves 6 | Braising Time: About 3 Hours

– One 3.5 to 4-pound boneless beef chuck roast
– Coarse salt and freshly ground black pepper
– 1 bay leaf
– 1 medium yellow onion (about 6 ounces), peeled
– 3 whole cloves
– 1/4 cup hard cider or dry white wine
– 1 cup beef, veal, or chicken stock
– 1 1/2 teaspoons chopped fresh thyme or 1/2 teaspoon dried
– 1/2 pound small white or red potatoes, peeled and, if larger than 1 1/2 inches, cut into halves or quarters
– 2 large carrots, peeled and cut into 1 1/2-inch lengths
– Fleur de sel or coarse sea salt for serving (optional)

1. Tying the meat: Tie the roast with kitchen string so that it is snug and neat (see instructions in the book, page 258). Season all over with salt and plenty of pepper and place in a shallow baking pan (2- to 3-quart).

2. Browning the meat: Heat the broiler to high. Slide the roast under the broiler so that the surface is about 6 inches away from the element. Broil until the fat begins to sizzle and the surface begins to caramelize but not char, about 5 minutes. Turn with tongs and broil on the other side (or sides, depending on the shape of the roast) for another 5 minutes (each). Remove the roast from the broiler, and heat the oven to 300 degrees. (Alternatively, you can brown the roast in the braising pan according to the instructions on [cookbook] page 254.)

With tongs, transfer the seared roast to a Dutch oven or other heavy lidded braising pan (4-quart capacity). Tack the bay leaf to the onion using the cloves and tuck it into the pot alongside the beef.

3. The braising liquid: Pour off any excess fat from the pan you used to brown the beef and set over medium-high heat. Add the cider or wine and bring to a boil, scraping the bottom with a wooden spoon to dissolve any precious bits of caramelized beef juices that have stuck there. Continue to boil until the liquid is reduced by half, 3 to 4 minutes. Add the stock and let it come to a boil. Pour the boiling liquid over the beef and sprinkle with the thyme.

4. The braise: Cover the roast with parchment paper, pressing down so that the paper almost touches the meat and the edges extend about an inch over the sides of the pot. Then set the lid in place and slide the pot into the lower third of the oven to braise. Check to see that the liquid isn’t simmering too fiercely after the first 10 to 15 minutes. If it is, lower the oven temperature 10 or 15 degrees. After 45 minutes, turn the roast with tongs. Continue braising at a gentle simmer for another 45 minutes.

Turn the roast again, and add the turnips, potatoes, and carrots to the pot, spooning some of the braising liquid over the meat before returning the parchment paper and lid. Continue braising until the meat is fork-tender and the vegetables are easily pierced with the tip of a knife, another 1 1/2 hours or so (for a total of about 3 hours).

5. The finish: Transfer the roast to a carving board or serving platter. With a slotted spoon, remove the vegetables and arrange them around the meat (discard the clove-studded onion). Cover loosely with foil to keep warm. Set the Dutch oven over medium heat, and skim the surface fat from the braising liquid as it comes to a simmer. Evaluate the braising liquid: if it appears too thin or watery, boil the liquid to reduce the volume and thicken up slightly, about 10 minutes. It should be the consistency of a slightly thickened vinaigrette.

6. Serving: Cut the strings from the roast and slice into 1/2 inch thick slices. Serve slices of the pot roast alongside a mix of vegetables, with the braising liquid ladled on top. Pass the fleur de sel or coarse sea salt at the table, if desired.

I know that there are people who can whip up a batch of biscuits with butter or lard in a few moments flat. I am not one of them. I have “hot hands,” which means that the moment a stick of butter knows that it is going to be touched by me, my hands burst into blames which then instantly melts the butter. It’s like having an undesired superhero power, and which, needless to say, makes an awful mess. So when I saw this recipe for Cream Biscuits on Smitten Kitchen (a fantastic blog – if you’re not following it, you should), I thought I’d give them a whirl. She assures her readers that they are spectacularly easy, and you know what? They are!

Adapted from “James Beard’s American Cookery,” these biscuits take practically no time to put together. There are no sticky hands or oily countertops. I omitted the sugar, and I’m not sure I would ever add it. The recipe yielded 10 biscuits when I made them. Serve them warm from the oven, with butter of course. They are more substantial than butter biscuits, which makes them perfect to serve with eggs and bacon. You are simply not going to believe how easy these are to make. You’ll be a hero when you make these for your Sunday brunch.

A side note on the bacon: We tried Tommy Moloney’s Back Bacon with our brunch and it was delicious! It’s a bit like a thinly sliced pork loin with beautiful trimmings of fat. We got it at our local supermarket, so it should be relatively easy to find. If you can’t find it and would like to try it, simply use the link to order online.

Cream Biscuits
Adapted from James Beard’s American Cookery, and as blogged on SmittenKitchen.com

– 3 tablespoons melted butter
– 2 cups all-purpose flour, plus more for dusting the surface
– 1 tablespoon baking powder
– 1/2 teaspoon salt
– 1 tablespoon sugar (optional)
– 1 1/2 cups heavy cream

Preheat the oven to 425°F. Line a baking sheet with parchment paper. Melt butter in a small pot or microwave dish, and set aside. Sift two cups flour, the baking powder, salt and (if using) sugar into a large bowl. Fold in 1 1/4 cups cream. If the dough is not soft or easily handled, fold in the remaining 1/4 cup cream, little by little.

Turn dough onto a floured surface, mound it into a ball and, using your hands, press it to a thickness of about 3/4 inch. Cut into rounds, 2 1/2 inches in diameter. Gather dough scraps and continue to make rounds. Dip the top of each round in melted butter and arrange on the baking sheet. Bake until golden, 12 to 15 minutes. Serve immediately, or freeze for future use. [Biscuits can be baked straight from the freezer, and additional few minutes baking time will be needed, usually around 3 to 5.]