Photo of the Week and February Updates

It doesn't look like much, but I was more proud of this little dish than words can say. Plating dishes--actually arranging the food on the plate in an artful and (hopefully) appetizing way has been a source of anxiety for me since the beginning of the program. It just doesn't come naturally to me. I'd look over at other people's dishes and see spirals of sauce elegantly dripped around the plate or airy floats of lemon zest places just so in a way that brought the whole plate together. And then I'd look at my plate and wince.

Oh, I know my pictures turn out ok, but that, my friends, is the benefit of the macro-zoom. I heart macro-zoom. One side looks saggy? No prob, just zoom in on the other side! Can't find the right sized plate? Well, don't put it in the picture, silly! Ah, the macro.

Anyways, especially at the end of a long class, the last thing I want to do is figure out how to make my hacked-up, sauced, buttery whatever-it-is look pretty. But still. I've been working on it. Trying to get ideas from photos in magazines. Watching other people. Taking a few risks and asking my inner perfectionist to take a chill pill.

So this little tomato salad? This is the first dish I've ever prepared where I made a conscious effort to think about plating before I started the dish and then, lo and behold, carried it through. It's simple, but classy, eh? It's a start!

Oh, and it doesn't taste too bad either!

P.S. Sorry I've been so infrequent with the postings lately. For some reason I had this completely CRAZY idea that I'd be LESS BUSY once I, you know, quit my job? Nope, sorry, hun. Still running around chasing my tail over here. I've been writing, though! Yup, the second round of posts for my interview at The Kitchn are up! Yay! Go check 'em out:

Keeping Braises Moist with an Inverted Lid of Foil
Book Review: Artisan Bread in Five Minutes a Day
Recipe: No-Knead Challah (from Artisan Bread in Five Minutes a Day)
Supermarket Saver: How much should you pay for olive oil?

And here's that tomato salad recipe:

Salade de ma Mere
(c) Roberta Dowling, Cambridge School for Culinary Arts

4 plum tomatoes, peeled and seeded (this is easiest to do if you blanch them in boiling water for a few seconds)
2 cloves of garlic, finely minced
1-1 1/2 T Dijon mustard
1/4 c. raspberry vinager or black currant vinegar
1 c. heavy cream
salt and pepper
2 heads Boston lettuce
Chopped chives or chervil for garnish

Clean and slice the tomatoes and put in a salad bowl. In a small bowl, mix together garlic, mustard, raspberry vinegar or black currant vinegar, salt, and pepper. Add the cream and pour over the tomatoes.

Let rest for 30 minutes at room temperature. Clean the lettuce, taking off the rib of the leaves. Add the lettuce to the tomatoes and toss together just before serving. Sprinkle with chopped chives.

Notes:
For my salad, I chopped the tomatoes into small cubes and drizzled them with enough of the dressing to bring it together. (I had about two cups of dressing leftover.) For plating, I arranged a few big leaves of lettuce on a plate (instead of tossing them with the tomatoes) and molded the salad by putting a cookie cutter in the center of the plate and scooping in the tomatoes.

I think this salad could use LOTS more tomatoes--at least 10-15 nice ripe red juicy tomatoes (Dear Summer, I miss you. When will you come again? Love, Emma)

The dressing has a nice tang to it and the cream is nicely mellow without being too creamy, if you know what I mean? I'm actually not a fan of dressings like ranch or bleu cheese, and I thought this was fantastic.

This would be a fantastic first course or side dish at a summer garden party! (Dear Summer, Still no calls? Don't you love us anymore? Kisses, Emma)

Husk Cherries: A Love Story

Husk cherries stole my heart this summer. They rustle in your hand, weighing nothing and smelling of dust. It seems impossible that inside each paper lantern can hide one single golden berry. They're the humble Cinderella of the farmer's market, for sure.

I walked by them for weeks, achingly curious about what wonderful delight could go for $5 a half pint, until I finally caught one of the farms offering samples. I hovered nearby, pretending to inspect a box of bean varietals while sneaking covert glances at the farmer's demonstration of the proper way to husk these cherries. He grasped the fruit by the stem and gently pinched the shell until the berry popped out the bottom. Denuded berries were passed and sampled. The reaction from the crowd was mixed. A few "mmm..."s and some "Huh"s. One or two folks paused dramatically before saying "Now that's different" and wandering off. My heart fluttered. Could my summer crush really be a bust? When the group departed, I sidled in and casually picked up one of the remaining samples.

"Ever had a husk cherry before?" The farmer asked.
"Me? Um..." (As a chronic know-it-all, my first instinct is always to feign experience.) "Well, actually no."
"Oh great!" He said with real enthusiasm, "You'll love these!"

And without further ado, he popped a marble-sized berry into my open palm. I looked at it dubiously. It was yellow-orange (I'd been expecting red). I could see thin veins running just underneath the taut skin. I gingerly lifted my hand, rolled the berry into my mouth, and bit down. The skin broke without any resistance and my mouth was filled with the subtle, caramelized flavor of just-baked cinnamon bread. I kid you not. I thought immediately of bread. And my second thought was, "Omigod, omigod, omigod, what can I DO with this fruit?"

I've seen them called husk cherries, ground cherries, husk tomatoes, and cape gooseberries (though I think the last one is actually a different variety). These guys are indeed cousins to the similar-looking tomatillo, as well as to tomatoes and wild tobacco. The taste is described as vanilla pineapple, which I was able to agree with upon extensive further sampling and a gentle "down, boy" to my baker proclivities. I would also add "honey" to that description. They range in size from pea-sized to plump marbles like the one I first sampled. In my research, I also discovered that this plant is in the "endangered" section of the Slow Food USA Ark--Rock on, Boston-area farmers! I also found evidence that this would make an excellent container plant. I happen to have several containers and a "warm but not too sunny" back porch....see where I'm going with this? (Yup, already planning next summer's garden and it's not even November yet. This is going to be a long winter.)

So what CAN you do with a handful of husk cherries? The flavor is so subtle that it can get easily overwhelmed by other fruits, so they're perhaps best as solo-players in a green salad, thrown into a fruit-mix or paired with a subtle-yet-tart fruit. They're high in pectin, so if you can afford it or steal enough from friends with CSA's, you can make some very lovely jam. One site I found recommended dipping them in chocolate, which immediately sent my salivary glands into over-production. Personally? I couldn't let go of that first baked-bread taste and have had visions of tartlettes dancing in my head.

Actually, I can't claim that I actually set out to bake a tart. A few weeks ago I was setting out to bake a plum tart for a friend who had just returned from a jaunt in La Jolie France. I had just admitted to myself that I didn't have as many plums in my fridge as I thought when my friend walked in with a bag of husk cherries to share. I looked at my handful of plums. I looked at the bag of husk cherries. A little niggle in my brain reminded me of some candied ginger I'd been saving for a special occasion. Brilliance ensued. And here is the recette, in honor of my friend the Tart Savior:

Rebekah's Plum and Husk Cherry Tart

Pate Brisee:
1 1/2 c. flour
3/4 tsp salt
9 TBS cold, unsalted butter, cut into 1" pieces
4-5 TBS ice water

I'll do a longer tutorial on how to make classic pate brisee later on, but here's a basic method:

Combine the flour and salt on your counter top. Use a pastry scraper to cut in the butter until you get pea-sized chunks of butter (you can use the tips of your fingers to break the butter, too, but be careful that the butter doesn't get too warm). Add the water one tablespoon at a time and use just the tips of your fingers to incorporate it into the dough. When you can squeeze the dough in your hand and it doesn't fall apart, stop adding water. Gather it into a ball pat it into a thick disk. Cover with plastic wrap and refrigerate for one hour.

Plum and Husk Cherry Filling:
~10 oz of tart golden plums (weighed un-cut with the stone in), cut into slices
1 pint husk cherries, husks removed
1/2 c. candied ginger
1/2 c. sugar
zest of 1/2 lemon
zest of 1 orange
1 tsp vanilla
1/2 tsp cinnamon
1/4 tsp nutmeg
2 TBS flour

Combine all ingredients. Cover and set aside while preparing the dough. (The liquid in the plums will dissolve the sugar to make a thick paste. At this point, you can taste a bit and adjust the flavorings to your liking.)

Preheat oven to 375-degrees.

Roll the dough out into a rough, 10" circle of even thickness. Lift the dough frequently as you roll and flip it over to make sure it doesn't stick to the counter. Use a light dusting of flour if things start to get sticky. This is a rustic tart, so the exact size of the crust doesn't need to be exact. Transfer the crust onto a baking sheet lined with parchment paper. Pour the filling into the center of the pie crust and spread it to within 4-5 inches of the edge of the crust.

Looking at the crust as the face of the clock, fold the lip of the dough over the filling at 12:00. Next fold the lip over at roughly 2:00. Then at 4:00. Then at 6:00. Then at 8:00. At 10:00, fold the lip over but then unfold the 12:00 fold partway to tuck the 10:00 fold under so that all the layers fall in the same direction. Brush the top with egg or milk thinned with a little water.

Bake for about 40-50 minutes, until the crust is a deep golden brown. Let cool for about 15 minutes before serving. Sprinkle the top of the tart with Demara sugar (or the spiced gold sugar mix from THIS place) just before serving. Enjoy!

Butternut Squash and Pivotal Life Events

Since this is the first time in six years that I'm going back to school in the fall, you'd think I'd be all aglow with nostalgia over little autumnal details that don't get noticed when September is just another month on the calendar. In point of fact, life has been so non-stop these past few weeks that I've barely had time to do much more than scarf down a powerbar while counting my bags to make sure everybody made it off of the bus together--much less notice the geese squawking to each other on their way south or kiddos off to school with new lunchboxes. Actually, now that I think back on it I was ALWAYS too busy to notice these things while I was ensconced in the studious life. It wasn't until I graduated and started working in the Real World that I suddenly found myself looking up and thinking, "Seasons! Oh WOW! Totally forgot about those."

The one thing I HAVE been doing a lot of is laundry. Cooking is a messy business, my friends. Those pearly white uniforms don't leave much to the imagination. I come home looking like I personally took it upon myself to clean the face and hands of every toddler in Boston using only my apron and coat sleeves, and smelling like...well, like an industrial kitchen. Or perhaps several industrial kitchens.

Luckily, what I'm doing is a lot more fun than forcing cleanliness on errant preschoolers. Many of you have expressed disbelief that classes can actually last a whole eight hours and have asked me what we do, fer goodness sake, with all that time? The answer? I really don't know. I get to class with the afternoon sun slanting through the big plate-glass windows and glinting crazily off of every stainless-steel surface (that is to say, all the surfaces) and then I look up and it's almost 11:30. Somewhere in there, I've sat through a lecture, prepped and cooked some sort of food-based concoction, sampled said concoction and those of my classmates, and helped clean the kitchen. Then I stumble home smelling of several industrial kitchens and try to remember to take off at least my apron before burrowing beneath the covers.

And this is so wonderful to me. I had a lot of fears before I started, but I'm feeling more and more that this really is exactly where I'm supposed to be right now. In many ways, this feels more like remembering than learning. "Of COURSE that's how you hold a knife." "Riiiiight, beat the sugar stuff until I get ribboning--got it." (Ok, I admit, I'm still a bit shaky on the on the whole emulsification thing. "Emulsa-whatty?")

I also really struggle with not knowing where I'm going. Very scary. You know me--I like my lists and my 5-year plan and my ducks-in-a-row. As much as being in the kitchen feels like home, it's hard for me to really just stay present and recognize that this, right here, is good for me. And it's good for me all by itself, without needing to make it into something more. "Something more" like...oh...how about Pivotal Life Event On Which My Entire Future Hinges. Yeah, like that. No pressure.Heh heh heh...

Eeeeenyways, I've been meaning to share with you this fantastic dinner I made for my good friend B. a while back. It was only when we sat down to eat that I realized that all the major ingredients going into the dinner had been bought at the farmer's market, harvested from friend's gardens, or snipped from my very own porch garden. It was a really good feeling. Like toes wiggling in warm socks good. And it helped that this dinner happened to fall on one of the first truly crisp autumnal nights of the year. We lit some candles, opened a bottle of wine, and dug in.
Butternut Squash Soup

1 butternut squash--peeled, de-seeded, and cut into cubes
8 small potatoes--cut into cubes
1 onion-diced
corn kernels from 4 cobs
3-4 cloves garlic
fresh sage, oregano, and rosemary--chopped fine
2 1/2 c. vegetable broth
1 c. soy/rice/regular milk
1/4 c. white wine

Toss squash and potatoes in a bit of olive oil and roast at 450-degrees for about 45 minutes.

Sautee the onions and garlic until onions are soft. Add white wine and simmer until wine is reduced by half. Add the herbs 3/4 of the roasted squash and potatoes. Add broth and bring to a boil. Once boiling, reduce to a simmer, and simmer for 5 minutes.

In a food processor, puree the solids with just enough broth to make the soup pour-able. (Or if you are in possession of a submersion blender, use that!)

Combine the puree, remaining roasted squash and potatoes, and corn in the pot. Add milk. Salt and pepper to taste.

This is awesome served with a few chunks of goat cheese and a few splashes of tobasco sauce.

I heart my food processor

Beet and Apple Salad

4-5 beets--peeled and sliced
2 apples--sliced and tossed with a few teaspoons of lemon juice (to prevent browning)
1/2 c. walnuts
Parmesan Reggiano
A few handfuls of field greens
2 Tbsp balsamic vinegar
2 tsp Dijon mustard
6 Tbsp good olive oil

Sautee the beets in a bit of olive oil until tender--about 20 minutes, if I remember correctly. (Alternatively, before peeling or slicing the beets, you can roast them in a 450-degree oven wrapped in foil or boil them in water.)

While this is happening, measure out the vinegar and mustard in a cup and whisk until combined. Add the olive oil and whisk until combined. (Hey, guess what, guys?! This is an EMULSION! A temporary one, though, so you may have to re-whisk before serving.)

Put a handful of field greens in a purty dish, layer on the beets, apples, and walnuts. Sprinkle with a tablespoon or so of the dressing and shave Parmesan over the top with a vegetable peeler.

Rosemary Flatbread

One recipe of thin-crust pizza dough--recipe HERE.
Several sprigs of rosemary, leaves removed and chopped coarsely
Kosher salt or sea salt
Good olive oil

When preparing the dough, do not separate into two balls of dough. Spread the dough onto a piece of parchment paper into a roughly rectangular shape about 1/2 inch thick. Cover and let rise for at least fifteen minutes and up to an hour.

Pre-heat oven to 500-degrees.

When ready to bake, brush the top of the dough with olive oil and sprinkle on the rosemary and salt. Use the flat of your hand to gently press the salt and rosemary into the dough--GENTLY! You don't want to deflate the dough too much.

Bake on a sheetpan (or baking stone) until the top is golden and dark brown in places--10-15 minutes. The dough will puff a bit and you might get a few big bubbles. Serve warm or room temperature. This will keep for a few days in a tightly sealed container, and you can re-crisp in a 250-degree oven.

Summer Showers (and Salads)

I'm snug in my apartment listening to the first real thunderstorm of the season. The neighbor's daughter must be having a sleepover because every time the thunder booms, I hear a chorus of screaming followed by giggling and loud protestations of having been the scaredy-cat who initiate the screaming.

The hours at the noodle factory have been long lately this being our annual Busy Bee Season, leaving me too drained and uninspired when I get home to do much more than heat up a twice-baked potato (made en masse a few weekends ago and frozen in anticipation of my post-work zombie state). But the weather has been struggling to be summer lately and I've been craving pasta salad. So today, I decided that come hell or high water, I was going to have my salad tonight. Darnit.

The irony is that it seems pretty hellish and high-watery outside right now (queue girly screaming). But I've got my pasta salad!

Summer-at-Last Pasta Salad

1 bag tortellini--any type, cooked, drained and cooled.
1 yellow onion--coarsely chopped and sauteed (Feel free to leave raw--I just don't like raw onion very much and the slightly caramelized sauteed onion here makes a nice compliment to the flavors)
3-5 cloves garlic--coarsely chopped and sauteed with the onion
1 red pepper--chopped
a few stalks of celery--chopped
a handful of fresh basil--coarsely chopped
half a tube of goat cheese (any kind)--crumbled
3 tablespoons dressing
2 teaspoons sea salt

Combine in bowl. Serve over greens (hopefully yours haven't been sitting in your fridge for two weeks waiting patiently for me to cook this meal and are a little less grumpy than mine). Consume with gusto. Nice. And. Simple.

For the tortellini, I used Trader Joe's artichoke tortellini, and for the goat cheese, I used the recently-discovered Trader Joe's low-fat goat cheese. It's really quite edible! It's distinctly goat cheese and best when used in combination with other things--like this salad or pizza. I don't know that it would stand on its own, unless you mixed in some herbs. Mmm...that's an idea. Oh, P.S. in retrospect, a stronger cheese would do better in this salad--a blue cheese or Roquefort or other stinky cheese.

And for the dressing, I used Maple Grove Farm's Lime-Basil Vinaigrette--my mom hooked me on this line of dressing. Most of the flavors are fat-free and really quite good. I tend to not like the oily, greasy dressings in typical offering, and the Maple Grove dressings are somehow both light tasting while still coating all the little bits and pieces in your salad. Score!

This Stella Italia Pinot Grigio is destined to become my Summer 2007 Refreshment of Choice. It's light and floral with a very distinct flavor of honey. But not a cloying honey, just...like the whiff of honey you get while spooning it over your strawberries. The finish is apple-crisp and altogether satisfying. It goes well with any course--salad (obviously), fish, a light dessert. And if that weren't enough, it's $6.99 at Trader Joe's. I'm sold.

Thunder moving off. Salad finished. Sleepover moved on to a movie (hopefully not a scary one). Time for little Emma to think about another helping of salad.

Basic Pasta Sauce

Quickie post this lazy Sunday afternoon--just wanted to share my basic pasta sauce recipe with all y'all. For the longest time, I didn't question the fundamental American assumption that pasta sauce comes in jars. Period. No further thought required. Then one fateful shopping trip, while tenaciously deciphering which pasta sauce had the cheaper unit price and then asking myself if this was a sauce I actually desired to consume, it hit me. I could actually make my own pasta sauce. My own! Let me share a little secret with you: at its most basic, pasta sauce is really just...wait for it...tomatoes. Yes, tomatoes. Eureka!

Now there are about a hundred bajillion recipes for tomato sauce (basic pasta sauce) out there. By all means, go forth and sample. But if you're like me and the idea of making your own sauce is a novel shift of paradigm, here's a good place to start. The veggies I give below are my basic mix, but you can certainly add or subtract based on what you have in your fridge and your tastes.

A note on the tomatoes: If they're in season, sauce made from fresh beefsteak tomatoes is to die for. Plan extra time for it, though, as it takes a good hour or so for the tomatoes to simmer down into a sauce. However, if it's the middle of winter, if you're short on time, or if you just don't feel like it, a can of diced tomatoes is a perfectly reasonable substitute. There is no shame in home cooking. Get a 28 oz can of your grocery store fav--I use "Nature's Promise" brand from Stop&Shop, from their new line of organic products. You can usually find cans with Italian spices or without, salted or not. If you want quick and easy, go for the pre-spiced stuff. If you're feeling adventurous, go for no spices, no salt and add your own.

A note for folks on Weight Watchers: The only ingredient adding points to this sauce is olive oil. Since such a small amount is used, I usually average this out to about 1/2 of a point (just to keep me honest). If you add in the wine, kick the sauce up to a whole point. Serve 3/4 cup of sauce over a cup of pasta for a good meal for just around 5 points.

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Emma's Basic Pasta Sauce
makes 6-8 servings

28 oz can of diced tomatoes with the juices--with Italian spices or not
or 2 pounds or more of beefsteak tomatoes (about 4 large), cored, peeled, and cut into 3/4-inch chunks
1 whole sweet onion--diced
1/2 large (or 1 small) zucchini--diced and salted (salt draws out the liquid in the zucchini)
1 red pepper (or orange or yellow)--diced
1/2 package of mushrooms--sliced (about 1 cup sliced)
3 medium-sized cloves garlic
2 cubes of veggie, chicken, or beef bouillon (I like using bouillon instead of broth for the concentrated flavor and to keep the amount of liquid used in the sauce at a minimum)
1-2 tsp olive oil
1/4 cup fresh basil or 1 tablespoon dried basil
salt and pepper to taste
1/2 cup of red wine (optional)

Heat olive oil in a large sauce pan or wok. Add onions and zucchini, and saute until barely translucent. Add garlic and stir until fragrant (about 30 seconds). Add peppers and stir until onions are fully translucent and zucchini is almost cooked through. Add mushrooms and saute for a minute or so. (If making sauce from whole tomatoes, do not cook the veggies as fully before adding the tomatoes. They will cook more fully as the sauce simmers.)

Add canned tomatoes (or diced whole tomatoes) and allow to come to a boil. Once boiling, add bouillon cubes, basil, and other spices. Reduce to a simmer. If using canned tomatoes, start water boiling for pasta. If using whole tomatoes, allow to simmer until sauce reaches desired consistency--between 45 minutes to 1 1/2 hours. In either case, stir occasionally.

Just before serving, stir in 1/2 cup of red wine if desired--this will give your sauce a nice depth of taste. Also, make sure the bouillon cubes are completely dissolved. There's nothing like chomping down on a bouillon cube to put you off salt for life. Or at least the next several minutes. But at least the faces you make will provide endless entertainment for any nearby guests, children, or other various loved ones.