Salad Days Are Here Again What’s cooking? Spring Veggie Salad with Mint Vinaigrette

I started thinking about this post by looking up the term “salad days” in Wikipedia. Wouldn’t you know it, that rascal Will Shakespeare coined the phrase in 1606, when he used it in Antony and Cleopatra. Cleopatra laments her dalliances with Caesar and refers to “My salad days, When I was green in judgment...”

I remember my own salad days – crazy, fun days living and working and playing in Manhattan, with more than a few dalliances – and I marvel now that I made it through those days alive. Talk about green... And yet salad wasn’t a food I much liked. I knew nothing about making salad dressing, or the huge range of foods that can go into a good salad.

These days, I think more favorably of salads. They’re the Jackson Pollocks of the kitchen – free-form collections of wildly and widely ranging ingredients, from fruits and veggies to nuts and proteins and grains, tossed and turned with dressings that cover the sweet/savory waterfront. Europeans tend to serve salads after the main course, as a sort of refreshing break between the entrée and the cheese course or dessert. Most American restaurants serve it at the beginning of the meal, and frankly, I don’t think it matters. My dinner parties tend to be buffet-style, so the salad is just part of the buffet.

The best salads are seasonal, taking advantage of the textures and flavors available now. I think that’s what I like most about the salad I made last weekend – featuring asparagus, snow peas, and English peas, on a bed of mâche and sunflower sprouts – and I dressed it with a vinaigrette made with mint from my garden. The final touch is a sprinkling of fresh dill.

I love wandering farther afield than your basic salad greens – although a “spring mix” of baby greens will work as well in this salad. Mostly, I hate the tedium of tearing lettuce, so I’m thrilled when there’s a good alternative that doesn’t require tearing. Mâche (rhymes with gosh) is a soft-textured lettuce, also known as lamb’s lettuce or corn salad, that’s increasingly easy to find these days. Deep green in color and sold in packages of rosettes, the leaves have a shape that reminds me of cartoon speech bubbles. It has a mild, nutty flavor, and, according to Wikipedia, three times as much vitamin C as lettuce, in addition to beta-carotene, Vitamin B6, iron, and potassium. The sunflower sprouts – also available almost everywhere these days – are similarly packed with good stuff: high in fiber, protein, essential fatty acids, vitamins A, B complex, C, D and E. So eat your salad – it really is good for you!



Kitchen Goddess note: What I like most about this salad is the effect of the shaved asparagus and the julienned snow peas. You wouldn’t think these cuts would inprove the taste, but they do. I don’t have an actual scientific explanation, but in both instances, you’re exposing more of the sweet inner flesh of the veggie and less of the tough outer skin, so what your taste buds experience is more of the natural sugar of the plant. Also, more of the vegetable gets exposed to the dressing, and that may add to the effect. At least, that’s my analysis. (The mathematician in me wants to get into a discussion of surface area ratios, but I’ll spare you that.) So while you might think these cuts were just some display of Kitchen Goddess obsessiveness, there’s a real difference in the taste of the salad. And it does add to the look. 

By the way, the season for English peas is painfully short, so you need to try this salad now. While you’re at it, buy some extras and make Cold Spring Pea Soup.

Tips from a Professional

In his wonderful cookbook, Ad Hoc at Home, Thomas Keller – owner and chef of The French Laundry (Napa Valley) and Per Se (NYC) – offers three steps to help you dress your salad like the pros.

➊ First, drizzle the dressing around the inside of the salad bowl – not on top of the greens – so that the greens pick it up evenly as you toss them. Don’t overdress the salad – you want the greens just lightly coated. Add dressing sparingly, then offer guests a small pitcher of dressing on the side.

➋ The next step is to add salt and pepper, then toss again to distribute the seasoning.

➌ Lastly, sprinkle any herbs you want on top of the greens. Except for chives, which must be sliced, tear the herbs instead of cutting them, so you don’t leave their flavors on the cutting board.

This is a great salad for a dinner party, as you can prepare the snow peas, English peas, and asparagus well before serving and refrigerate them separately in zip-lock baggies so they stay fresh, then toss them together at the last moment. The mâche and sprouts come ready to use. You can make the Mint Vinaigrette the day before (it will last a week or so, but the color of the mint will fade) – I think you will love the light, fresh flavor it adds to the salad.

The quantities below should serve four, unless, like me, you become so obsessed that you sit down and eat the whole thing for lunch. And of course, the idea of counting out 36 peas is a bit absurd. I gave you these quantities as guidelines – feel free to use a pea more or less.

Spring Veggie Salad

Serves 4.

2-3 ounces mâche (or a mix of baby greens)
2-3 ounces sunflower sprouts
12 snow peas, julienned (sliced thinly)
4 medium-thick asparagus, shaved
36 English peas, uncooked
Mint Vinaigrette (recipe below)
salt and freshly ground black pepper, to taste
1 tablespoon fresh dill leaves

Toss together the mâche and sprouts, then sprinkle them with the snow peas, asparagus, and English peas. Dress with Mint Vinaigrette (recipe below), add salt and pepper to taste, and sprinkle on fresh dill before serving.

Mint Vinaigrette

¼ cup freshly squeezed lemon juice
1½ teaspoons honey
½ teaspoon minced shallot
½ teaspoon Dijon mustard
¼ teaspoon kosher salt
½ cup grapeseed oil or good olive oil
10 fresh mint leaves, stems removed

At least an hour before serving, combine the lemon juice, honey, shallot, mustard and salt in a blender and blend until smooth (15-20 seconds). While the machine is running, add the oil in a slow stream and continue blending until the mixture emulsifies (comes together), about a minute.

Happy Mother’s Day! One of Those No-Cook Days What’s cooking? Gazpacho

My mother was a little bit crazy. Okay, occasionally she was a lot crazy. But she meant well.

I called her “Mumzy” ever since one summer day when I was home from college, a day when I guess my brother and I had made one too many requests. “And stop calling me ‘Mama,’” she said. “It’s so boring. ‘Mama, Mama, Mama’ – why can’t you call me something with a little more pizzazz? Something like... ‘Mumzy.’”

I thought that need to be slightly exotic was part of her personality as an artist. Our house in San Antonio was a private showcase for her art, which hung in every room. I still have works of hers – in watercolor, oils, mosaic tile, collage, and India ink. Her friends were always asking her to paint something for them, and she gave a few pieces away. But her best-known – and least serious – work was the powder room in our house, where she decorated the walls with a pattern of smiling mermaids. Like many of her projects, it took more time and effort than she had imagined in the planning stage; she was so tired of smiling mermaids by the time she finished that she painted the last one frowning. You could only see it when the door was closed, and my brother and I never tired of pointing it out to our friends.

I didn’t inherit her talent, but she taught me an appreciation for line and form and color, along with the courage to wipe the canvas clean and start over if you don’t like what you’ve done. I make use of that courage in the kitchen these days.

She wasn’t a perfect mother, but who among us is? I lie awake at night sometimes, thinking of the things I myself should have done differently as a mother, and being thankful that my sons turned into such nice people in spite of my efforts. Mumzy gave it her best shot, which I think is all any of us can do. And my brother and I never doubted that she loved us.

* * *

My mother’s love of the exotic made itself known in the kitchen, though the dishes she produced in that vein were only exotic in the 1950s and ‘60s. Gumbo, steamed artichokes, fresh spinach salads, and pickled eggs made regular appearances, and her parties might feature chicken liver pâté or mango champagne cake. Gazpacho was also a favorite dish, and while I don’t have her recipe for it, I do have one from Thomas Keller’s French Laundry Cookbook that is to die for.

It works well for this post, because Mumzy didn’t really like everyday cooking. So this recipe doesn’t require any. It’s simple and easy – the key is that the ingredients really need to marinate together overnight, so start the day before you want to serve. The sweetness of the red onion and tomatoes balances the slight bitterness of the green bell peppers and cucumber, and there’s a fresh vegetable-ness that comes through loud and clear. Yet, departing from tradition, it’s served as a fine purée, so you don’t get that sensation of chewing your way through the produce aisle.

The balsamic reduction is a sparkly garnish to the soup – only a few dots on top will do the trick – but it’s not mandatory. The soup will be glorious with or without it. The reduction takes only time – almost no effort – and can hang out in your pantry for months next to the oils and vinegars. I keep mine in a plastic squeeze bottle, like this. Or you can garnish it with a dollop of sour cream or crème fraîche or even fresh ricotta.

Gazpacho is light and refreshing as part of a summer meal, but I love serving it as an hors d’oeuvre for a party any time of the year. I keep a good supply of 2-ounce shot glasses for that purpose, several styles of which are available on amazon.com. I put out a tray of filled glasses, and nearby I leave a pitcher of more for refills.

Gazpacho

Adapted from Thomas Keller’s French Laundry Cookbook.

Makes about 8 cups.

1 cup diced tomato (½-inch dice)
1 cup diced green bell pepper
1 cup diced red onion
1 cup diced English cucumber
1½ teaspoons minced garlic
1½ teaspoons kosher salt
¼ cup plus 2 teaspoons best quality olive oil
¼ cup tomato paste
1 tablespoon white wine vinegar
1 tablespoon fresh lemon juice
¼ teaspoon cayenne pepper
3 cups tomato juice or V-8
sprig of fresh thyme

Combine all ingredients into a large pitcher or bowl, cover, and refrigerate overnight.

The next day, remove the thyme sprig and process in a blender until the mixture is smoothly puréed (2-3 minutes). Chill until ready to serve.

Garnish with any of the following:
■ a few drops of Balsamic Reduction (also called Balsamic Glaze), and/or celery stick or endive leaf or toasted crouton
■ dolop of sour cream or crème fraîche or fresh ricotta

Balsamic Reduction/Glaze

Place 2 cups of balsamic vinegar into a small saucepan on medium heat. When steam begins to rise from the vinegar, reduce the heat to keep the vinegar at that “steam” point. You don’t want to generate any bubbles. (If you can’t reduce your heat enough, you may want to use a heat diffuser.) Keep the liquid at this “steam” level for 2-3 hours, without stirring, until it becomes thick and syrupy. You’ll have about ½ cup of liquid. Store in a squeeze bottle in your pantry.

What to Do with All Those Roasted Red Bell Peppers What’s cooking? Roasted Red Pepper Aioli, Romesco Sauce, and Polenta Canapés

My husband is away on a golfing trip, so I’ve been on my own for a few days now. And even as I pull away from the curb after dropping him off at the airport, I’m already thinking about what I can cook while he’s gone. In what now has become something of a routine, I don’t even return home but head straight for my favorite supermarket to stock up on foods that (a) he doesn’t like, or (b) I want to play with in the absence of any pressure to fix dinner.

It gets a little weird after a while. The first night he was gone, I decided to try roasting broccolini (brushed with a bit of lemon olive oil and salt, baked at 375º for 15-20 minutes), and it was so good, I ate the entire bunch. (I broiled a piece of cod to go with it, so you don’t think I’m completely off center.) Then last night, I sautéed chicken gizzards for dinner, which I got around to at about 9 p.m.

I love chicken gizzards – and no, I’m not going to suggest that you try them. It’s a little like feasting on rubber bands. But my grandmother loved chicken gizzards, so I took it on faith that they were a delicacy; and for many true southerners, that remains the case. My friend, Diane, from Georgia, is the only person I know who will happily gnaw away with me on a basket of gizzards from Lucy’s Fried Chicken.

We all have those foods, don’t we? Akin to comfort food, those items we secretly love but don’t often admit to. Another of mine is a can of Campbell’s Pork & Beans – not heated, just straight from the can. You wouldn’t think the Kitchen Goddess capable of such blasphemous behavior, would you?

On to the Roasted Red Pepper Sauces

Remember these? Did you make some? If not, you'll want to now. Or buy some, and keep reading.

I did spend most of Saturday working on what I promised you, which is a couple of ways to use those delicious roasted red peppers from my antipasto post last week. You did make them, didn’t you? It’s not critical – the recipes here will still be good using the ones in a jar from the grocery store, but you really should at least try roasting your own. It’ll take a couple of hours, but the process is easy and the result is a stash of this condiment that’s amazingly flexible. Also, the ones you roast and jar on your own are waaaay better in delivering a smoky/sweet red bell pepper flavor.

Kitchen Goddess note: The grocery store peppers in a jar will most likely be packed in a brine. If you use them, be sure to rinse them and blot them to remove the brine. Huffington Post did a recent taste test of 13 brands, which you can check out here.

So here’s what we have today, and both are as easy and simple to make as you can imagine – no cooking required:

■ Roasted Red Pepper Aioli – Although the name comes from the Provençal words for garlic and oil, aioli is more of an emulsion like mayo, though not as thick. This version doesn’t need any extra garlic, as the peppers are already flavored with it. In addition to the smoky sweetness from the peppers, the sauce gets a tangy tweak from the mustard and lemon juice. Served cold, it’s great as a dipping sauce for crudité or cold shrimp, and it often accompanies cooked seafood like crab cakes, fried clams or fried calamari. Use it as a sandwich spread, a dressing for a pasta salad, or even as a sauce for grilled chicken or flank steak.

■Romesco Sauce – This nut- and red pepper-based sauce comes from the Catalonia region of Spain. I made my version with almonds, but you could substitute pignoli nuts or hazelnuts, or use a mixture of almonds and hazelnuts. I had only plain, slivered almonds, so I toasted them under the broiler and added an extra bit of salt to compensate for the call for “roasted salted almonds.” The nuts give the sauce a creaminess that works really well with the peppers. This sauce – served hot – is great on fish or pasta (choose a shape like fusilli, with some nooks and crannies) or polenta, and can even be cooked into the polenta (a.k.a. grits, y’all). I took polenta squares with dollops of Romesco (at room temp) to a dinner party and got excellent reviews all around.

Roasted Red Pepper Aioli

Adapted from epicurious.com

Makes about 2 cups.

2 large egg yolks
2 tablespoons Dijon mustard
2 teaspoons lemon juice
6 ounces roasted red peppers
½ cup goo quality olive oil
½ cup grapeseed oil*
1½ teaspoons salt
4 good grinds black pepper
⅛ teaspoon cayenne pepper

Combine egg yolks, mustard, lemon juice, and red peppers in the bowl of a food processor. Purée 30 seconds, then with the machine running, add the grapeseed oil in a slow, steady stream, then the olive oil in the same manner. Add salt, pepper, and cayenne and pulse briefly to mix.

*Kitchen Goddess note about grapeseed oil: This oil has a clean, light taste and a high polyunsaturated fat content. It adds almost no flavor, and thus keeps the aioli from tasting too much like olive oil. If you don’t have grapeseed oil, use canola oil. 

Romesco Sauce

Adapted from Gourmet magazine, March 2006

Makes about 2 cups.

7 ounces roasted red peppers, blotted with paper towels to remove marinade or brine, depending on whether your peppers are homemade or purchased
1 slice white sandwich bread, toasted on both sides
¼ cup roasted salted almonds (not smoked), or 2 tablespoons almonds plus 2 tablespoons roasted hazelnuts
1 large clove roasted garlic (or plain if you don’t have the roasted kind – and by the way, why is there no roasted garlic in your fridge?)
½ cup good quality chicken broth
¼ cup good quality olive oil
1 teaspoon Sherry
¾ teaspoon salt
½ teaspoon Aleppo pepper or ¼ teaspoon dried hot red-pepper flakes, or to taste

Tear the toast into pieces and combine in a blender with the remaining ingredients. Purée until smooth, about 2 minutes.

You will want to heat the sauce if you are serving it over pasta or polenta, and it’s an excellent idea to top the dish with grated Parmigiano-Reggiano.

And now for the Polenta Canapés with Romesco ...

I tried to get these to be nicely spread out on the plate, but the undersides are a bit moist, so they kept sliding toward the center like amoeba trying to attach to each other. Next time, I'll use a flatter plate.

Back in November, I posted a lovely recipe for Creamy Polenta. The method below uses the same ingredients, requires more constant attention, but takes half the time. Your choice. Leave out the butter if you’re planning to serve it in squares, canapé-style.

Creamy Polenta

Serves 6

2 cups milk
2 cups good quality chicken broth
1 teaspoon salt
1 cup polenta (not quick-cooking) or yellow cornmeal
2 tablespoons unsalted butter

Combine the milk, broth, and salt in a 3-quart heavy saucepan, and bring to a boil. Add the polenta in a fine stream, whisking to keep clumps from forming. Reduce the heat to whatever level allows the polenta to simmer, and cook, stirring frequently with a long-handled wooden spoon, for 20-25 minutes, or until the texture is no longer grainy. (The mixture will resemble a lava pit as it bubbles, and that long-handled spoon will keep you from getting burned.) Toward the end, you may want to add a couple of tablespoons of water if the mixture is stiff but still al dente. Once the polenta is creamy, remove the pan from the heat and stir in the butter until smooth. Serve immediately. Remember to leave out the butter if you are serving it canapé-style.

For main-course polenta: Polenta begins to congeal within 10 minutes as it starts to cool. If you are serving it in bowls but don’t plan to serve it immediately, pour over a thin film of milk to cover the top of the polenta, put a lid on the pan, and turn your heat to the lowest possible setting (or let the pan sit on the warm stovetop) until you are ready to eat. Then just before serving, turn up the heat slightly and whisk the milk well into the polenta until smooth.

For canapé-style polenta: Pour the cooked polenta (to a height of ½ inch) into a lightly greased quarter-sheet baking pan (9 x 13 inches) and let it sit for 30-40 minutes. Cut into squares no larger than 2 inches, and transfer the squares to a large rimmed baking sheet lined with parchment paper. Squares can be covered with cellophane wrap and refrigerated at this point for several hours or even overnight. Re-heat them 10-15 minutes in a 350º oven.

When you are ready to serve, brush the tops lightly with olive oil. Set oven to broil, and toast squares until

they are just beginning to brown. Remove from the oven and top each with a dollop of Romesco sauce.

Kitchen Goddess note: Extra polenta squares – without the sauce – can be frozen for the next time you have to produce an hors d’oeuvre on a moment’s notice. Re-heat 10-15 minutes in a 350º oven.

A Little Something from Your Auntie Pasto What’s cooking? Roasted Red Peppers and Sausage-Stuffed Dates

Kitchen Goddess note: Roasted red bell peppers is only the first half of this post; the rest of what constituted my gourmet antipasto, including the recipe for those dynamite stuffed dates, follows the recipe for the peppers.

Another gourmet group dinner haunted me this month. The theme this time was Italian, and our assignment was the appetizer course. Which should have been easy, right? Antipasto. In Italian, the word “antipasto” literally means “before the meal.” And I even had the authentic set of dishes used to serve it. But what would go into a “gourmet” version? I needed it to be more than a bunch of things I bought ready-made. I needed it to be special.

The ingredients for an antipasto platter (plural is “antipasti,” though when or how you’d use that formulation is beyond me) would fill a book on their own. From what I've read in a ridiculous number of Google searches, here’s a summary of sorts:

■ Cured meats (pepperoni, prosciutto, soppressata, salami,...)
■ Pickled mushrooms and vegetables in oil and/or vinegar: artichoke hearts, asparagus, peperoncini (unrelated to pepperoni, these are little pale yellow peppers that come in jars, pickled)...
■ Olives
■ Anchovies
■ Italian cheeses: provolone, mozzarella, Parmigiano-Reggiano, ricotta, goat cheese
■ Fruits: chunks of fresh melon (cantaloupe, honeydew, watermelon), figs (dried or fresh), dates
■ Roasted nuts
■ Roasted red peppers

In short, food from Italy. Well now, that’s helpful, I said to myself.

Something about the number of combinations and permutations made me feel like I was back in my college probability class, and the probability was that I’d drive myself crazy figuring it out. So I used my gourmet “shout out”: I called my friend Barbara, who is the closest combination I know of (1) Italian heritage, (2) a great cook, and (3) a good enough friend that she wouldn’t mind if I called and whined about my dilemma. (She's also a very talented interior designer, with a website here.)

“First,” she said, “you have to have roasted peppers.”

“But I don’t like roasted peppers,” I whimpered. “And the times I’ve tried, that business of steaming them in a paper bag then peeling off the skin just made me crazy.”

“The reason you don’t like them,” she countered, “is that you’ve never had mine. And I have a much better way of cooking and peeling them.”

She was right on both counts. Turns out she halves the peppers, then marinates them before she cooks them on the grill. Grilling them on both sides (rather than whole, which most recipes dictate) induces the halves to flatten out, which makes the skins easier to peel off. It also introduces that lovely roasted flavor to the inside of the peppers. Once she gets the skins off, she marinates them again. The result is completely delicious – tender, smoky, slightly sweet yet suffused with the herb-and-garlic flavors in the final marinade. None of that briney taste you get with the ones in the jars. I’ll confess it was a bit of a project, but there’s nothing hard about it, and I now have plenty for other uses:

■ Stir chopped into scrambled eggs or a frittata;
■ Add chopped to pasta with sautéed onion, roasted tomatoes, and spicy Italian sausage;
■ Loosely puréed with olive oil, basil, cream, sautéed onions and garlic for a great pasta sauce;
■ Best of all, puréed with mayo, lemon juice, garlic, and some olive oil to make an aioli sauce that’s great as a condiment for grilled shrimp, crab cakes, fish, or chicken, or as a dip for veggies.

Kitchen Goddess note: I am now so dying to make the pasta sauce and the aioli that I will get you some recipes next week. Get busy and roast some peppers, so you’ll be ready.

Roasted Red Bell Peppers

Makes 1½ quarts, but you can easily halve the recipe if you want.

For the vinaigrette:
½ cup balsamic vinegar
½ cup good olive oil
1 clove garlic, chopped (or, for extra flavor, one clove of roasted garlic – You have some in the fridge, don’t you?)
1 teaspoon Dijon mustard
½ teaspoon salt
⅛ teaspoon freshly ground pepper

For the peppers:
8 red bell peppers
12-15 cloves garlic, sliced
6 sprigs rosemary, cut in half
6 sprigs thyme, cut in half
olive oil, as needed

special equipment: one 1-quart mason jar plus one 1-pint mason jar, or 3 one-pint mason jars

1. Mix the marinade: Purée the vinaigrette ingredients and reserve in a jar or other pourable container.

2. Prepare the peppers for grilling: Halve the peppers, removing stems and seeds. Cut out the soft whitish interior ribs. Put the prepared pepper halves into a large bowl and pour about ¼ cup of the marinade over them. With your hands, slather the peppers inside and out with the marinade. Let the peppers sit for at least 15 minutes at room temperature, or up to a day in the fridge. (If you put the peppers overnight in the fridge, let them come to room temperature before grilling).

Notice the cuts I made that make it easier to flatten them while grilling.

3. Grilling the peppers: Preheat your grill to medium-high. Before grilling, make small (1-inch) cuts up the curvy ends, to allow the halves to flatten out as they cook. Grill both sides of the peppers for a total of 15-20 minutes – 5-7 minutes on the insides, the rest of the time on the outsides. The goal is to get the outsides about 70% charred.

You can see how the skin pulls away from the flesh, even on the lower left, which could use a bit more char.

4. Finishing the peppers: Let the grilled peppers cool a bit, then lay them on a cutting board, blackened side up, and with a paring knife, scrape or peel the skin off, removing as much of the char as you can. Slice the skinned peppers into strips about an inch wide. (They’ll be delicious now, but go through the next step anyhow.)

5. In the bottom of your mason jars, pour 2-3 tablespoons of the remaining marinade. Toss in a couple of cloves-worth of the sliced garlic, add about an inch of peppers and some of the herbs. Continue layering the jar with marinade, garlic, peppers, and herbs. If you run out of marinade (and you will), add plain olive oil. Close the jars and turn them up and down to thoroughly mix the marinade with the other ingredients. Store in the refrigerator for a day or up to 3 weeks.

In Praise of Bell Peppers: Remember that red bell peppers are sweet, not hot, nor acidic like green bell peppers. Moreover, these lovely orbs are a great source of Vitamin E as well as antioxidant and anti-inflammatory nutrients. Choose peppers that have a deep coloring, smooth skin without blemishes, and feel heavy for their size. The shape is not important.

The Complete Antipasto

Now that I had the roasted red peppers, what else would go on the antipasto?

I used as much as I could of homemade items, and I’ve included links here to the posts where you’ll find the tomato confit and the ricotta (that post also has instructions for the bruschetta). Sort of like the “something old, something new, etc.”, the goal should be to have a range of color, flavor, and texture.

■ Asparagus (roasted at 400º for 10 minutes), wrapped in half slices of prosciutto, for my cured meat and my green veggie.

■ A mix of Italian olives (Castelvetranos and black and green Cerignolas), for color and texture.

■ Sticks of Parmigiano-Reggiano with a plastic butter cup of fig jam to spread on it, for my hard cheese and something sweet.

■ Homemade ricotta cheese with herbs, for a soft cheese and the herbs.

■ Red and yellow cherry tomato confit, for color and because it goes well with the ricotta on bruschetta.

■ The perfect roasted red peppers, again for color and to pair with the ricotta on bruschetta.

■ Medjool dates stuffed with spicy Italian sausage, wrapped in bacon, and baked. I wanted something that would be served warm, and these offered the additional something sweet with meat. OMG – what a taste.

■ Separately, a basket of bruschetta (also called crostini – thin slices of toasted baguette, brushed with olive oil and rubbed with garlic), for the ricotta topped with either roasted red peppers or tomato confit.

And now, since I know you’re drooling over just the thought of those stuffed dates, here’s how to have some of your own.

Sausage-Stuffed Dates

Adapted from Giada De Laurentiis on FoodNetwork.com.

1 package seeded medjool dates (about 20)
2 links hot Italian sausage (raw)
10 slices bacon, halved
toothpicks

Preheat oven to 400º. Line a baking pan with baker’s parchment.

Remove the sausage from its casing. Pry open each date along the line where the seed was removed, and stuff enough sausage into the date to fill the interior (1-2 teaspoons). You should use enough sausage that the date no longer closes completely. Wrap a half slice of bacon around the stuffed date and secure with a toothpick. Place the finished dates on the baking sheet.

Bake the dates for 12-15 minutes, then turn them over and bake another 12-15 minutes, until the bacon looks crisp. Makes 20.

* * *

One Final Thought

You don't have to have a set of antipasto dishes to make an attractive antipasto spread. I got this set of Chinese soup bowls at a garage sale and recreated all but the stuffed dates for an alternate presentation. (We ate every last one of those delicious dates.)

One Fish, Two Fish, Old Dish, New Dish...and Dessert What’s cooking? Fennel Flounder, Spicy Crab Linguine, and a Dessert Bonus

The Wall Street Journal this week reported that seafood consumption in the U.S. has been in a steady decline since 2004, from 16.6 pounds per average consumer to a low of 14.4 pounds in 2012, the last year for which they have figures. That’s compared to 46 pounds of pork, 57 pounds of chicken, and a whopping 82 pounds of beef. I’d say “holy cow,” but it would just sound like a bad joke.

The Kitchen Goddess, for one, has been doing her part to lift seafood consumption. At least for the Lenten season. From Salmon Cakes and my best Broiled Fish, to Tuna Spinach Souffle – I’ve done what I could to give you a nice range of techniques and types of fish for your Friday Lenten dinners. And today, I have not one, but two more options for cooking and eating seafood. See what a good friend I am?

Let’s just start by reviewing the facts.

1. Most fish and other seafood have at least some omega-3 (unsaturated) fatty acids.

2. Omega-3 fatty acids are proven aids in reducing inflammation in the body, which helps prevent both heart disease and Type 2 diabetes.

3. One study of 20,000 men found that eating fish once a week slashes the risk of sudden cardiac death in half. And fish lovers have much lower rates of Type 2 diabetes. The American Heart Association recommends two servings of fish or other seafood each week.

4. All kinds of seafood are also great sources of protein.

5. Seafood is delicious.

So, ladies and gentlemen, let's eat some fish!

The first preparation today is one that I’ve posted about before, but never with a photo. Yes, sometimes, the Kitchen Goddess will actually cook something and forget to get the camera out. Mostly, that happens when she is either really really hungry or her husband is really really hungry and threatening who-knows-what. But this week, I made that dish and remembered just in time to take a photo or two.

There’s a lot of chopping with this dish, but it’s very easy and takes little time to assemble. The fennel sweetens as it cooks, and that sweetness presents a great counterpoint to the acidity of the tomatoes and just perks the fish right up. In this photo version, I used overlarge tomatoes, with the result that the dish was soupier than ever before, but just as tasty. (I ended up serving it in bowls.)

Fennel Flounder

Serves 4.

For the mirepoix:
2 tablespoons olive oil
1 tablespoon butter
2 large carrots, diced
1 medium onion, diced
2 stalks celery, diced

1½ pounds flounder filet (or other relatively flat fish)
1 large fennel bulb, trimmed and thinly sliced
tomatoes – about 2 cups diced (fresh tomatoes – not canned)

Heat oil/butter in a skillet over medium heat and add mirepoix, stirring frequently for 7-8 minutes. Spread the cooked vegetables on the bottom of a medium-sized (approx. 2-quart) casserole dish. Arrange half the fish in one layer, and sprinkle with half the fennel. Arrange the rest of the fish in the next layer and top with remaining fennel. Scatter tomatoes evenly on top. Season with garlic salt and lemon pepper. Bake, covered, at 400º for 30-35 minutes, then remove cover and broil until the tomatoes get slightly toasted (about 2 minutes).


Kitchen Goddess note: I have made this recipe using a 4-inch deep casserole dish, and using a low, flat dish. If your casserole dish is low and flat, you may only need one layer of the fish and one layer of fennel. Either way works.

The second dish is from a recipe I spotted in The New York Times this week, and simply couldn’t resist. Now I know you might have seen this recipe and thought about making it. But you don’t know David Tanis (the writer), and he’s being paid to give you these recipes, so how reliable can he be? On the other hand, you know the Kitchen Goddess, and you know she gives you these preparations out of pure love. So you can believe me when I say you should make something. This crab dish is one of those somethings.

It’s a great dish for dinner with roasted asparagus, or as Tanis suggests, on Easter Sunday as a lunch entrée. If you chop up the herbs and other seasonings first, and have them ready in a small bowl, you can put this dish together in almost no time. I took the trouble to find fresh pasta – which cooks faster than dried – at my grocery store, and the entire meal took about 20 minutes to cook. It’s creamy but with a bright green freshness that really livens up your taste buds.

Kitchen Goddess note: Do not ignore the jalapeño pepper. If you are a heat-avoider (which I am), go with the jalapeño and remove the seeds and ribs; for more heat, leave some seeds in or buy a serrano pepper instead. But the jalapeño keeps the dish from being too rich, provides a nice spark, and heightens the taste of the herbs.

Spicy Crab Linguine

Adapted from David Tanis in The New York Times

Serves 4.

The seasoning bundle:
1 medium-sized jalapeño chile (seeds and ribs removed), finely diced
2 tablespoons finely cut chives
5-6 scallions, sliced thinly and on an angle
1 tablespoon fresh tarragon leaves, chopped
1 pound linguine
½ cup low-fat plain Greek yogurt
½ cup crème fraîche
3 tablespoons Dijon mustard
Pinch of cayenne pepper
1 pound cooked crab meat, lump if possible and fresh (not pasteurized) if possible
Salt and freshly ground pepper to taste
Cilantro sprigs, for garnish

Prepare the seasoning bundle, combine and set aside.

Bring a large pot of water to boil with a couple of tablespoons of salt. Add the linguine and cook until al dente.

At the same time that you add the pasta to the water, combine the yogurt and crème fraîche over medium heat in a large, deep skillet. (I used a 3½-quart Le Creuset cast iron braiser to cook and serve the dish.) Whisk in the mustard and cayenne, and season to taste with salt and pepper. You are only trying to get the mixture warm, not boiling, so adjust the heat accordingly.

Fold in the crab meat so as not to break up the lumps, and heat through.

When the pasta has reached the al dente stage, drain it and add it to the skillet mixture. Fold it gently into the sauce, again so as not to break up the crab meat too much. Add the seasoning bundle and stir to distribute evenly.

If you are serving in a separate dish, be sure to heat the dish ahead of time, as the linguine with sauce needs to be served warm. Garnish with cilantro sprigs.

And now, because I am such a generous soul and know how much you like dessert, I have a short, easy idea for dessert – the very same dessert I served with the crab linguine. I knew I had it right when, at the grocery store, the clerk checking out my ingredients for that evening cast her eyes across the collection and said, “Can I come to your house for dinner?”

I love fresh pineapple, and the ones showing up now in my local grocery stores need only a day or two on the kitchen counter to get lusciously ripe. To serve it as dessert, I turned to pineapple’s long-time best friend, the coconut. I found coconut gelato in one store, but if you are not so lucky, I know that many supermarkets now carry at least one brand of coconut-milk-based ice creams (to satisfy lactose-intolerant customers), which are quite good.

I piled diced pineapple on top of the gelato, and spooned some of my ground cherry shazam – that syrupy stuff made from cape gooseberries (also called ground cherries) that I told you about last summer. You did make some, didn’t you? Ground cherries have a faintly pineapple taste, so it worked well with the fresh fruit. If you don’t have any shazam, you could drizzle a bit of honey on top, or dilute your favorite jam – peach jam or orange marmalade would both work. So easy, and so yummy looking!

It’s Spring – Time to Stretch a Little What’s cooking? Tomato Tarte Tatin

About a year ago, my hubby and I connected with a group of acquaintances who wanted to create gourmet dinners with good wines. As you know, the Kitchen Goddess has never been particularly shy; but she’s also not what you’d describe as hard-core competitive. And with a gourmet dinner for which each person produces a dish, there’s a certain element of competition that just naturally creeps in. It’s a lot of fun, but slightly nerve-wracking in the process.

Now if you’re having a dinner party on your own, you arrange the menu with an eye toward balance – focusing attention on one or two items – the entrée and the dessert, say – while the rest of the dishes stay simple and straightforward. But with each chef providing only one dish, it’s a bit like the finale of a fireworks show – excess everywhere you look. I’d provided the main course to the previous dinner, and hadn’t been even a little hungry by the time we served it.

So for the most recent of these dinners, it was my turn to provide the salad, and I was determined to deliver something light. The theme: French. I searched my French cookbooks, wondering all the while what a French salad looked like. For much of what I found, the ingredients were either impossible to find (pistachio paste? black truffle juice?) or beyond what I think of as my skill set. I tell myself nothing is really beyond my skill set – but some skills I’m just not interested in mastering. I began to get frustrated.

Then I found it. A version of tarte tatin, made with tomatoes. The classic tarte tatin is made with apples, arranged in a pinwheel pattern with the crust baked on top so as not to get soggy; then the whole thing is turned upside down to serve. This tomato version was in Daniel Boulud’s Chef Daniel Boulud: Cooking in New York City. I got the book because I loved the photos, never really planning to make much from it. But there I was, under duress, and I decided to see if I could stretch a little and make this really interesting looking dish. Read the instructions, see what made it seem difficult. And what I discovered was that nothing on the page was actually hard. Lots of ingredients – which you know I love – and lots of steps; but it looked gorgeous, and light, with an interesting mix of tastes and textures. I can do this. I just have to give myself enough time.

Let me say here that I was right. It was completely doable and swoon-worthy. Also completely elegant. The acidity of the tomatoes melded perfectly with the creamy goat cheese. The caramelized onions balanced those tastes with a hint of sweetness, and the puff pastry made a perfect platform for the presentation without changing the flavor. The frisée salad added a cool freshness that worked perfectly with the warm tart. I would make it again in a heartbeat. In fact, we had one tart left over – you’d be a fool not to make an extra in case one fell on the floor or suffered some other disaster – and my husband and I devoured it when we got home. Yes, that good.

You should try this. Try it with a meal that is otherwise simple, straightforward, and easy. Make it the first course to a menu of grilled steak, baked potatoes, and roast asparagus. Or roast leg of lamb, wild rice, and steamed broccoli rabe. It's good to push yourself occasionally, and this dish is well worth the effort.

Moreover, much can be done ahead. The pistou, the puff pastry circles, the caramelized onions, and the herbed goat cheese can all be made at least a day in advance. The tomatoes and the salad have to be managed on the day of the meal, but the tomatoes can sit in their little tart pans for a couple of hours before you bake them. And the assembly is fast and easy. Stack it up, flip it over, and voilà. Your guests will think you’ve been secretly going to culinary school.

When I penned this post, it was late at night and my resident wino was asleep. So I punted and told you we served this dish with a white wine from the Languedoc region of France. The wino is now awake, so I have a correction. The wine recommended by Boulud's book was a Côteaux du Languedoc, a low-acid blend of Roussane and Marsanne from the south of France. We tasted that one and liked it, but liked even more the wine we ended up serving, a 2010 J.L. Chave Selection Saint-Joseph Céleste, another Roussane-Marsanne white but from the Rhône region. I know this is more information than anyone wanted, but when I ask my husband about wine, this is the sort of answer I get.

Tomato Tarte Tatin

Adapted from Chef Daniel Boulud: Cooking in New York City

Makes 8 salad course servings.

Special equipment needed: 8 4-inch tart molds, a mandoline slicer, a 4-inch round biscuit cutter

Part 1: The Pistou Sauce
Can be made several days ahead.

2 bunches fresh basil (about 8 ounces), leaves only
1 small clove garlic, peeled and coarsely chopped
1 teaspoon pignoli nuts, lightly toasted
1 rounded teaspoon grated Parmigiano-Reggiano
½ cup extra-virgin olive oil

Bring a medium pot of salted water to a boil. Dump the basil into the water and blanch 2 minutes. Drain the leaves and run them under cold water to stop cooking. Remove the leaves to paper towels and squeeze dry.

Combine all ingredients in a food processor and process until smooth, about 2 minutes. Refrigerate in an airtight container.

Part 2:  The Herbed Goat Cheese
Can be made a day or two ahead.

The pistou in the small bowl, the herbed goat cheese -- which uses the pistou -- in the larger.

4 ounces fresh goat cheese, softened at room temperature for 30 minutes
2 teaspoons mascarpone cheese
2 teaspoons heavy cream
2 tablespoons Pistou Sauce (from Part 1, above)
2 tablespoons shallots, finely chopped
2 tablespoons chives, finely chopped
1 teaspoon garlic, finely chopped
salt and freshly ground pepper

In a small bowl, stir together all ingredients, adding salt and pepper to taste. Refrigerate in an airtight container, but remove and bring to room temperature 30 minutes before serving.

Part 3: The Caramelized Onions
Can be made a day or two ahead.

Use the mandoline to slice the onions nice and thin.

2 tablespoons unsalted butter
2 medium yellow onions (about 7 ounces each), thinly sliced
4 sprigs fresh thyme, leaves only
½ teaspoon sugar
salt and freshly ground pepper

In a large skillet (not non-stick), melt the butter over medium-low heat. Add the onions and thyme and a pinch of salt and cook, stirring occasionally, for about 20 minutes. As you stir, scrape up the “fond” that collects on the bottom of the pan and stir it into the onions. After about 20 minutes, you may need to add a tablespoon or two of water to deglaze the pan (i.e., dissolve the fond) as you cook. This process will turn the onions brown. Stir the sugar into the onions and continue to cook them for another 10-15 minutes, stirring occasionally and adding water (a tablespoon at a time) as needed. You want the onions to reach a deep brown color, without burning. (N.B. Boulud claims this takes only 10-15 minutes. Baloney.)

The onions go from this...

... to this.

Check seasoning, adding salt and pepper to taste. Refrigerate in an airtight container.

Part 4: The Puff Pastry
Can be made a day ahead.

A confession: I forgot to photo the pastry rounds. These are from a dessert I made and are smaller, but you get the idea.

1 pound frozen puff pastry sheets
1 egg, whisked with 2 teaspoons water

Preheat oven to 400º.

On a lightly floured surface with a lightly floured rolling pin, roll out the puff pastry to a 3/16-inch thickness. Using a 4-inch round biscuit cutter, cut the dough into 8 discs. Place the discs on a parchment-lined baking sheet and refrigerate 15 minutes.

Use a fork to prick the surface of the dough, and brush the tops of the discs with the egg wash. Bake in the center of the oven until golden brown, 10-12 minutes. Cool the discs on a rack, then store them in an airtight container – not in the refrigerator.

Kitchen Goddess Notes on frozen puff pastry:
1. Remove the sheets from the box and defrost separately for 40 minutes on the kitchen counter,  or re-wrap in cellophane and defrost overnight in the refrigerator. While you wait, chill your rolling pin, pan, and biscuit cutter in the fridge.
2. Work with one sheet at a time, storing the other sheet in the fridge.
3. As a test, I made 3 batches of these, and had best outcomes when I placed a second piece of parchment on top of the discs (after pricking and brushing with egg wash) and used a second pan of the same size on top of that, as a weight to keep the discs from puffing up. I baked the discs for 8 minutes then removed the top pan and parchment before baking the final 4 minutes. If you use a convection oven setting, you’ll only need a total of 11 minutes.

Part 5: The Tomatoes
Start early enough in the day to allow for the slices to drain 2-3 hours before assembling.

Use a mandoline for the tomatoes, too, so you get nice, even slices.

10 large plum tomatoes, cut crosswise into rounds ⅛-inch thick (save the ends of the tomatoes for some other dish)
kosher salt and freshly ground pepper
olive oil for greasing the bottoms of the tart molds

To remove excess water from the tomato slices, place them in a single layer on baking pans lined with 2-3 layers of paper towels. Season lightly with salt, and place the pans in the refrigerator for 2-3 hours.

Grease the bottoms of the tart molds with the olive oil. Using about 12 slices per tart, arrange the tomato slices in the molds in an overlapping circle. Season with salt and pepper, and place the pans on a rimmed baking sheet. Set aside until you are almost ready to serve. (The tarts can stay this way for a couple of hours.)

It might take a little practice to get the pinwheel effect, but it's not hard. These tart molds are paper -- fine for use if you're baking the tarts soon after assembling them. Otherwise, they tend to flatten out and you have to replace them. And yes, that's what I had to do.

Part 6: The Frisée Salad

The dressing can be made the day before, and the salad ingredients can be prepped and refrigerated separately in small bowls a couple of hours in advance.

Frisée – also known as curly endive – looks like a small, furry green animal. The darker outside leaves tend to be bitter. If you can't find frisée, use baby arugula or mache.

¼ cup extra virgin olive oil
1 tablespoon freshly squeezed lemon juice
2 small heads frisée, white, yellow and pale green parts only, trimmed
8 small white mushrooms, thinly sliced
½ cup Kalamata olives (10-15, depending on size), pitted and sliced
16 cherry tomatoes, halved
2 tablespoons chervil leaves
8 chives, cut in ½-inch pieces
salt and freshly ground pepper to taste

Whisk together the oil and lemon juice. Season with salt and pepper to taste.


WHEN YOU ARE READY TO SERVE:

Preheat the oven to 350º. Let the goat cheese sit at room temperature for at least 30 minutes.

Bake the tarts 10 minutes in the center of the oven. Remove the pans and, using the back of a spoon, lightly press down on the center of each tomato pinwheel to flatten.

While the tarts are baking, warm the caramelized onions (30 seconds in the microwave).

Toss together the salad ingredients in a medium bowl. Add the oil/lemon juice to taste (I used about half) and season with salt and pepper to taste.

While the tomato slices are still warm in their pans, place a rounded tablespoon of the goat cheese in the center of each. Spoon the warm caramelized onions (you’ll have about 1 rounded tablespoon per tart) over the herbed goat cheese, and top with a disc of puff pastry.

Invert the tarts onto the center of each plate and remove the mold. Place a small mound of the dressed salad on the side of the plate, and drizzle the pistou sauce around the plate.

Serve immediately.