As much as I love lemons, the thought of placing them atop pizza never would have crossed my mind. Squeezing a wedge of lemon over a slice of white clam pizza — that’s natural; biting into whole slices of lemon, rind and seeds included — that takes some convincing.
But the story and photo of Kesté’sPizza Sorrentina, a Neapolitan pizza topped with lemon slices, basil and smoked mozzarella, in the WSJ a few weekends ago sent me racing off to the store to find smoked mozzarella. Story goes that this pie was invented in Naples by a great pizza maestro’s daughter who created it for her lemon-adoring mother.
Never would I have imagined such an unsuspecting group of ingredients to work so well together, but they do. And it makes sense. Lemon cuts the smokiness of the mozzarella; basil, even after seven minutes in the oven, adds a touch of freshness. The bites with lemon slices are big — tart and tangy and refreshing all at the same time; the bites without beg for one. But the beauty of the pizza lies in the balance: it would be a shame to overdo the lemon, to be flinging pieces aside rather than longing for more.
For lemon lovers, of course, this pie is a winner; but skeptics beware: it’s beguiling enough to win you over, too. Read More
I posted this recipe to Facebook over the weekend, so I’ll keep this brief. I have made this big apple pancake two weekends in a row now, and I have a feeling the run will continue for the remainder of the fall. It is one of the most fun recipes to prepare as it comes together in just minutes, puffs dramatically in the oven, and feeds four comfortably (so long as you provide some bacon or sausage on the side.)
This past weekend’s pancake came out better than the first, namely because I followed the instructions and made the effort to pulse the flour-egg-milk mixture in the food processor rather than just whisk by hand, which left the batter extremely lumpy. I also doubled the amount of apple this time around, ensuring that loads of tender apple slices filled every bite.
I love this recipe, but I find the name to be a bit of a misnomer — it tastes nothing like a pancake to me, leaving my pancake-making woes to persist. Alas, with a new delicious addition to the morning repertoire, I have no complaints. Hope you all had a nice weekend. Read More
Every so often all of my recipe hoarding proves worthwhile. A couple of nights ago, while fishing through my pasta file, pulling out every gnocchi recipe I have saved over the past decade, I found a recipe — penne with butternut-sage sauce — from a November 2006 Gourmet. Over the past six years, I have thought about this recipe often, as I do most of the recipes I tuck away, but especially this time of year when the butternut squashes and bundles of sage start arriving in my CSA.
I suspected this sauce would be good — the pairing of squash and sage rarely disappoints — but I didn’t imagine loving it as much as I did. It seemed too simple. But somehow the sauce, made with only butter, sage, squash, onion and water, tastes almost cheesy or as if it were made with cream or stock or something to provide richness. The butter, of course, adds considerable flavor, and the amount of butter, though I haven’t tested it, probably could be scaled back. But if you’re not afraid, just go for it. Adults and children (who likely will think it’s mac n’ cheese) alike will gobble it up. It’s a perfect dish for this time of year. Read More
There was a time in my life when subscribing to a CSA had little appeal. I wanted to buy what I wanted to buy when I wanted to buy it. Today, I am happy to have somebody else make the decision for me.
In the past six years, subscriptions to CSAs in eastern Pennsylvania, southern California and northern Virginia have forever transformed how I eat and cook. I have learned to plan meals based on the vegetables I have at hand not the protein. I have learned to appreciate vegetables in their freshest state seasoned with little more than olive oil, salt and pepper. I have eaten more dark leafy greens than I ever imagined.
During this time, too, I have allowed more than one bunch of radishes to shrivel up and rot, a kohlrabi bulb or two to desiccate, and a few bags of okra to mold over. It is painful — shameful — to see these foods spoil. Today, not a morsel of my CSA goes to waste.
Below, I have compiled some things I have learned these past six years that help me utilize my CSA to its fullest potential. Read More
Grilled cheese, like pancakes, has always troubled me in the kitchen. Without fail, the bread burns before the cheese melts. Various techniques employed over the years have improved the final product slightly, but not so much as to leave me satisfied. So when I read the r.s.v.p. section of the September Bon Appetit, which supplied a recipe for a gruyère grilled cheese from L.A.’s Lucques, I couldn’t wait to get in the kitchen.
The recipe calls for crisping country white bread slices in a skillet on one side before topping them with cheese and sautéed shallots. The open-faced halves finish cooking in the oven before being pressed together into a traditional sandwich.
It almost pains me that such a simple technique produces such a brilliant result: perfectly golden bread flanking perfectly melty cheese. Why could I have not figured this technique out on my own? Like 10 years ago? Such a find would have prevented years of shame and embarrassment and the inevitable self-questioning after every failed grilled cheese attempt: Who doesn’t know how to make a grilled cheese sandwich?Read More
Last summer the eggplant chapter of Chez Panisse Vegetables treated me kindly, introducing me to a favorite pasta recipe as well as a most-delicious gratin with tomatoes and onions. And with this eggplant “caviar,” a mash-up of roasted eggplant, fresh parsley, and macerated shallots and garlic, the chapter just seems to keep on giving.
In each of these recipes, eggplant is roasted (as opposed to fried), which requires minimal oil, allowing the eggplant’s sweet flavor to really shine. And after a gentle mashing with a fork, the eggplant’s flesh becomes creamy, a perfect consistency to whip into a spread to spoon over grilled bread. Here, shallots and garlic that have soaked in vinegar add both sweetness and bite without taking over, but I imagine eggplant can hold its own in the presence of even stronger flavors — anchovies, olives, and roasted peppers come to mind.
With eggplant season peaking, now is the time to experiment. And for you eggplant lovers in particular — I know eggplant can be polarizing — get roasting. Read More
I couldn’t make a decision. And my attempts to organize my thoughts — adhering cute page flags to particularly tempting recipes — proved futile. In the midst of this frenzied state of drooling and tabbing, drooling and tabbing, my mother arrived at my doorstep with a bucket of feta (that’s normal, right?), a branch of oregano, and a dozen figs. And at once, my vision for our dinner became clear.
As my mother unloaded her basket of goodies into my pantry and fridge, I waved pages of The Sprouted Kitchen cookbook in front of her. Over every image we ooheh and ahhed; over every title we yummed and mmmmed. My mother soon understood my predicament: everything — from the roasted wild cod with meyer lemon and caper relish to the roasted tomato soup with cheesy toasts to the mushroom and brown rice veggie burgers — looked and sounded incredibly enticing.
But thanks to the ingredients my mother had just delivered, the decision was easy: dinner would be mediterranean baked feta with olives and roasted plum tartines with ricotta, substituting figs for the plums and my mother’s peasant bread for the wheat baguette — I never pass on my mother’s peasant bread. And having just read that Sara, the book’s author, encourages readers to “use the recipes as a starting point and to omit or add ingredients according to preferences,” I felt OK making a few changes. Figs seemed a suitable stand-in for plums, and Sara in fact recommends pears or persimmons in the fall. Yum.
We soon set to work mixing dough, slicing onions, halving tomatoes, making ricotta, mincing garlic and chopping parsley. And before we knew it, we had the makings of a beautiful spread, as colorful as Hugh’s (Sara’s husband) photos, as promising as Sara’s recipes.
The book, while not a small-plate cookbook, offers lots of wonderful ideas in this category. As I flipped through the pages, the recurring thought was: This would be fun for a party. And it makes sense as one of Sara’s goals for the book is to “share recipes that are simple enough to make after work but interesting enough to serve at a dinner party.” She certainly has achieved this. We have now eaten the baked feta with a hunk of bread twice this week for dinner — it is so good — and I have never been so eager to invite some friends over for dinner to show them my new tricks. The fig tartines, which disappeared in record time, lit up the table.
Beautifully photographed, thoughtfully written, the book is sure to inspire whoever comes across it. The Sprouted Kitchen cookbook is now available for purchase.
Note: I’ve supplied the recipe here just as it is written in the book so that you can take a look and make your own adjustments accordingly. As I noted above, I used figs in place of the plums, but roasted them exactly the same — with honey and salt for about 20 minutes. Also, I made homemade ricotta, which is so easy and delicious, and omitted the parmesan and chopped chives (was feeling a little lazy). Finally, I used fresh basil in place of the microgreens.
6 ripe plums
sea salt and freshly ground pepper
2 tablespoons honey, warmed
1 1/3 cups ricotta cheese
1/4 cup freshly grated Parmesan cheese
3 tablespoons chopped chives
1 whole grain baguette
1 cup microgreens for garnish
1. Preheat the oven to 350ºF and line a baking sheet with parchment paper.
2. Cut the plums into quarters (if using figs, cut them in half) and remove the pits. Gently toss the plum pieces with a pinch of salt and the warm honey. Spread them on the prepared baking sheet, cut side up. Bake until the edges are crisped and caramelized, 20 to 25 minutes. Remove from the oven and let cool.
3. While the plums are baking, in a bowl, stir together the ricotta, Parmesan, chives, 1/4 teaspoon salt, and a few grinds of pepper.
4. Turn the oven up to 500ºF. Slice the baguette in half lengthwise. Place the halves, cut side up, on a baking sheet and bake the bread just until toasty, 4 to 5 minutes. Spread the ricotta mixture evenly on both halves and return to the oven just until warmed through, another 1 to 2 minutes. Evenly distribute the roasted plums on top of the cheese. Finish with a few grinds of pepper and garnish with the greens. Cut each baguette half into slices on the diagonal. Serve warm or at room temperature.
Note: Once you make this once, you’ll never need a recipe again. The quantity of the olive salad is dependent on how much feta you choose to warm up. I baked my block (as opposed to grilled) and served it with warm bread. Heaven.
1 (8- to 10-ounce) block of feta
1 cup assorted baby tomatoes, halved
1/3 cup Kalmata olives, pitted (I didn’t…lazy) and coarsely chopped
1/4 cup thinly sliced red onion
1 clove garlic, minced
2 tablespoons finely-chopped fresh flat-leaf parsley
1 teaspoon dried oregano
1 teaspoon olive oil
Freshly ground black pepper
Crackers, pita chips, or crostini, for dipping
1. Heat your grill to medium-high or preheat the oven to 400ºF. Set the block of feta in the middle of a piece of foil for grilling or in a small ovenproof baking dish twice the size of your block of cheese for baking.
2. In a bowl, mix the tomatoes, olives, onion, garlic, parsley, oregano, olive oil and a few grinds of pepper.
3. Pile the tomato mixture on top of the feta. For grilling, fold up the edges of the foil so that it will hold in any liquid as it cooks; put it straight on a grill; heat for 15 minutes to warm it through. For baking, put the baking dish in the oven and bake for 15 minutes. It will not melt, just get warm and soften.
4. Remove from the grill or oven and serve the dip hot with the crackers, pita chips, or crostini.
Note: This almond butter is SO good. If I wasn’t afraid that I might burn out my Cuisinart’s motor, I would start making this for gifts immediately. I used maple syrup in place of the honey because I am obsessed with this particular Justin’s Nut Butter, but now that I know how to make it, there’s no going back.
2 cups raw almonds
1 teaspoon oil, such as almond, unrefined peanut or extra-virgin coconut (I used coconut and more than a teaspoon)
1 1/2 teaspoons cinnamon (I omitted)
2 tablespoons honey or maple syrup
1. Place the almonds in a food processor or Vitamix and process for about 1 minute. Add the oil, 1/4 teaspoon of salt, and the cinnamon. Continue to process for another 8 to 10 minutes, scraping down the sides of the food processor or Vitamix as needed. You will see a change in consistency from crumbs, to big clumps, to a large ball. Finally, as the oil is released from the almonds, the mixture will smooth itself out. If you want it even smoother, add a bit more oil.
2. When it is as smooth as you’d like it, stir in the honey or maple syrup. Add more salt to taste and transfer to a glass jar. It will keep covered in the fridge for up to 6 weeks. (I kept mine at room temperature. It disappeared in three days.)
Most of you know that Julia Child would have celebrated her 100th birthday this August 15th. For months, chefs, restaurants, bloggers and many others across the country have been paying tribute to her life and legacy. I joined in on the fun over at PBS, adding a tribute inspired by a favorite Julia Child quote: No matter what happens in the kitchen, never apologize.
In recent weeks, I have found myself consumed by all things Julia. I’ve been referencing Julia’s Kitchen Wisdom more than ever, watching The French Chef (via Amazon and Roku) every night after dinner, and reading My Life in France before bed. All of the celebrations these past few months have inspired the creation of the above- and below-pictured notecards, too, featuring classic Julia Child quotes, ones that never fail to make me chuckle, and I hope you, too.
The cards are printed on luxe (190 gsm), natural white eco paper, and if you would like to order a set, they are available for purchase here. Of course I’d like to give a couple of boxes away, too. Just leave a comment if you’re interested.
And now for a recipe, a non-Julia-Child-inspired-but-delicious-none-the-less recipe. Since discovering semi-pearled farro several months ago, it, in some sort of salad variation, has become a weekly staple. This is the latest, a combination of roasted corn, fresh-squeezed lime juice, cilantro, minced chili peppers and diced peppers and onions. If you strategize by chopping the vegetables and herbs while the corn is roasting and the farro is simmering, this salad can come together in just about 20 minutes. It yields a lot, thanks to all of the add-ins, and tastes better with each passing day.
Farro Salad with Roasted Corn, Red Pepper & Red Onion
Serves 6 to 8 as a side dish
2 ears of corn, kernels removed
fresh cracked pepper to taste
2 red peppers, diced
1 red onion, diced
1 cup of semi-pearled farro*
cilantro, a lot (or as much as you like)
1 hot chili pepper, such as Thai bird or jalapeno, minced
fresh-squeezed lime juice or white balsamic vinegar (I used a combination — about 1 tablespoon lime juice and 1 tablespoon white balsamic vinegar)
*Roland semi-pearled farro is particularly nice but any type of farro or grain — wheat berry, barley, etc. — will work nicely. You might be able to find semi-pearled farro at your local supermarket, but if not, you can order it here. Of course, whole farro will work just as well.
1. Preheat the oven to 450ºF. Place a pot of water on to boil. Toss corn kernels with olive oil and salt and pepper to taste on a sheet pan. Place in the oven. Roast for about 12 to 15 minutes or until the corn is just beginning to char.
2. Meanwhile, add farro to pot of boiling water. Add a big pinch of kosher salt. Cook for about 15 minutes — taste a few kernels after 15 minutes. For me it takes just a minute more than 15.
3. Drain the farro, and add to a large bowl. Season with a big pinch of kosher salt. Drizzle olive oil over the farro while it’s still warm. I haven’t been measuring, but if you’re looking for some guidance, start with about 3 tablespoons of olive oil. Squeeze lime juice and/or white balsamic over top — again, you don’t have to measure, but if you like to, start with about 1 tablespoon each of lime juice and vinegar (or two tablespoons of either lime juice or vinegar) and adjust after everything has all been mixed together.
4. Add the roasted corn, diced red pepper, red onion, cilantro and chili pepper to the bowl. Toss with a large spoon. Taste. If it’s a little dry, add more oil and/or lime juice and white balsamic. If it needs a little more seasoning, add more salt. I add about 10 large dashes of Tabasco for taste more than for heat — the chili pepper adds enough heat — but this seasoning is optional.
Lemon sugar revolutionized baking for me. Lemon salt promises to do the same for everything else. Though my use of this flavored salt extends to this single recipe — “straw potatoes” seasoned with lemon salt (thanks to April Bloomfield) and fried with rosemary (thanks to Jamie Oliver) — the possibilities are endless. Salt might just become lemon salt from here on out.
I know deep frying can be intimidating — vats of hot oil are never fun — and somewhat wasteful — even small-batch frying requires a fair amount of oil — and smelly — your kitchen (house?) inevitably will smell of fast-food — but sometimes these sorts of annoyances are worth the trouble. This is one such case. You won’t be disappointed. I promise.
A few notes:
• This recipe requires a mandoline — the fine shape of the julienned potato allows them to fry up first time around (as opposed to thick-cut fries, which require a double fry) — and calls for deep frying.
• When deep frying, be very careful. Use a pot with high sides to be safe, and make sure the oil is not filled as far as half-way up the sides — two or three inches should do.
• Fry in small batches: If you add too many potatoes to the hot oil, the oil will bubble over the side of the pan and creep along your stove top, creating a huge mess and posing a serious danger to you and anyone crawling around your floor. Too many potatoes at one time, too, will bring the temperature of the oil down, which will cause the potatoes to take longer to cook also making them soggy in the process.
for the lemon salt:
zest of one lemon
4 tablespoons sea salt (I used 3)
sunflower oil (I used a mix of canola and vegetable oil)
1 3/4 lb. potatoes, peeled and julienned* (I used Yukon Gold, and I didn’t peel)
a few sprigs of rosemary
* The potatoes can be julienned in advance — about an hour or so — before they start turning slightly brown. A little brown is OK, but too much brown is probably not a good idea. Storing the potatoes in water will prevent browning, but you also must dry the potatoes very well before you start frying, which is kind of a pain.
1. Make the lemon salt: In a mortar and pestle, bash together the lemon zest and salt until salt is flavored, colored, and fine. Place in a dish. Use whatever you need right away or allow it to dry out for a couple of hours before storing it. (I made my lemon salt a day in advance and stored it in the mortar wrapped in plastic wrap.)
2. Heat 2 to 3 inches of oil in a sturdy, high-sided pan; bring to deep-frying temperature (350°F; to avoid oil catching fire, be sure to maintain its temperature at 350°F). Jamie’s tip: place a potato in the cold oil before you turn the burner on. When the potato rises to the top of the oil and begins to turn golden brown, the oil is ready. Remove the potato piece and start frying in small batches.
3. Pat the julienne strips dry with some paper towels to remove any excess starch. Making sure you’ve got a slotted spoon or spider (which is like a flat colander with a handle) and a big pile of paper towels to one side (I did not use paper towels, but instead transfered the finished fries to a large aluminum bowl, which allows for easy tossing), carefully place some of your potatoes into the pan of oil (don’t overcrowd it) for a couple of minutes (1 to 2) until golden brown and crisp. Cook potatoes in batches until they are all used up. Add the rosemary for the last 30 seconds. (Note: It’s hard to judge when the last 30 seconds will be, but the rosemary can be in the oil for as few as 10 seconds. I basically added the rosemary in at the last few seconds of each batch). Remove the potatoes and rosemary to the paper towels (or a large bowl) to soak up any excess oil; dust with your lemon salt. Serve immediately, perhaps alongside a blue cheese burger as they are at the Spotted Pig.