Showing posts with label cherry tomatoes. Show all posts
Showing posts with label cherry tomatoes. Show all posts

Sunday, September 16, 2018

Summer Reading: Words for Nerds


What’s cooking? Pan-Roasted Summer Squash with Tomatoes and Ricotta




The Season of Summer Reading is coming to an end, and I’m still struggling to get through the list I assigned myself when we left for New Jersey early this summer.

I’ve always been a reader. From the early days of Nancy Drew and the Little House series to
my current, battling obsessions with memoir, non-fiction, and The New Yorker magazine, I can disappear into those pages for hours at a time. Coming up for air brings the same disoriented sensation as if emerging from a deep dive into a swimming pool.

And yet, here I am with a box of books in which I’ve made hardly a dent. Ah, well.

The dent I did make is mostly in two categories: wordsmithing and (surprise, surprise) food-related subjects. So in the spirit of sharing...

If you love language and the nuances thereof, I found two fun books. Ok, maybe “fun” is overstating it, but I had fun reading them.


Word by Word: The Secret Life of Dictionaries, by Kory Stamper, tells the story of how dictionaries get put together, and the people who do it. Perfectly described by Publishers Weekly as “A witty, sly, occasionally profane behind-the-scenes tour.” I enjoyed learning about the methodology and the quirky personalities that come into play; mostly, I marveled at the writing, which is eloquent without sounding stiff or pretentious. Ms. Stamper is herself a lexicographer with Merriam-Webster, so it’s not a surprise that words like “defenestrate” (to throw something or someone out of a window) flow naturally through her writing. But I grinned to see her use “highfalutin,” (pretentious or fancy), one of my Louisiana grandmother’s favorite words. Stamper also introduced me to “cromulent,” which means acceptable or fine and was coined by Lisa on The Simpsons.



Less than 30 pages into Between You & Me:
 Confessions of a Comma Queen, by Mary Norris, I found the author taking a trip to the offices of Merriam-Webster where Ms. Stamper works. I blinked in disbelief, feeling as if I’d come across books written by sisters with different takes on the same family life. Norris is a copy editor at my all-time favorite magazine, The New Yorker, so I was naturally drawn to a story of the inner life thereof. Another writer whose facility with the language has me in awe, Ms. Norris has a wicked and irreverent sense of humor, attested to in blurbs by a handful of New Yorker writers. Am I jealous? Well, yes. Amid the fun – like a chapter on the history of profanity in print and a romp called “Ballad of a Pencil Junkie” – are a few I recommend that you gloss over, like her digression on nominative cases of pronouns (zzzzz ...see what I mean?). But these are small issues within a fun book on language.

Taking a break from the hilarity of grammar and spelling, I’ve been dipping into a much more widely appealing collection of short essays – more like oral histories – from characters on the New York food scene. In Food and the City, compiled/written by Ina Yalof, we hear moving stories from chefs, line cooks, street vendors, bakers, butchers, and a film crew caterer, on how they got where they are and how they feel about what they do. The stories are mostly very short – 3-5 pages – and I have the most fun just jumping around the book. Great for reading before bedtime, as there’s never a sense of “OMG, what’ll happen next?!” But a unique and fascinating broad brush across the food landscape of New York.






Finally, in a tribute to the late Anthony Bourdain, I picked up Kitchen Confidential, the tell-all romp that started his career as a chef/entertainer. And a romp it truly is. Not a literary masterpiece, but who cares? It’s a fun and shocking window into the culinary world, and I’m enjoying it.












* * *

The Kitchen Goddess hasn’t stopped cooking, but much of it has been about revisiting summer favorites. One downside of being always on the lookout for what’s new is that what’s old-but-wonderful gets lost in the wash. So I’ll apologize for not bringing more new dishes your way, dear readers, and vow to be more productive as we move into the fall.

What have I been serving? Here’s a random sample:

Linguine with Herb Broth and Clams




Golden Beet Soup




Eton (Strawberry) Mess



Roasted Tomato-Bacon-Goat-Cheese Galette





My prince and I have also spent a ridiculous number of nights in the local restaurant scene this summer. The accidental theme to our activities this year was about getting together with friends we haven’t seen in a great while. Which usually entails long dinners where someone professional does the cooking. Another consequence is that I have not lost any of the weight I’d planned to lose. Sad.

What to do? The Kitchen Goddess weighed in – literally – and decided we should have some veggie-centric meals while the veggies are still fresh. For this post, that would mean tomatoes and a sampling of the rainbow array of summer squash. Also a new technique: pan roasting. You will be amazed at the sweetness that emerges from extended cooking of veggies at high heat.

The eagle-eyed among you may notice that this dish bears a remarkable similarity to one of the carrot dishes in my last post. Apparently, this business of practically burning one’s veggies in a mix of spices and other flavorings and serving them atop ricotta is another new thing in the food world. Once again, the Kitchen Goddess has your back.



Pan-Roasted Summer Squash with Tomatoes and Ricotta

Adapted from Molly Baz in Bon Appétit, June 2018

Kitchen Goddess note on ricotta: Fresh ricotta is so amazing in this dish. If you can’t find a store where the ricotta is truly fresh (2-3 days old), you either (1) make some yourself – the recipe is here, or (2) buy the freshest you can find and stir a couple of tablespoons of heavy cream into it. Cream is a major ingredient in ricotta, and a little fresh cream will improve the texture and flavor of a standard grocery store ricotta.

This recipe is not just good for you – it’s also very good, period. And easy. The tomatoes and zucchini are a classic flavor combo; add the crunch of the hazelnuts or pignoli and the light tartness of the ricotta – which pairs well with the sweetness of the roasted veggies – and you have a low-cal winner. That touch of richness from the ricotta helps it work as a complete meal.

Makes 4 servings.

I used a mix of pattypan, zephyr, and zucchini squash.
Ingredients 
1 pint sweet cherry tomatoes
2 sprigs fresh thyme, or ½ teaspoon dried thyme leaves
6 tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil, divided, plus some for drizzling the finished dish
1½ pounds medium-sized summer squash
1½ teaspoons kosher salt, plus some for flavoring/finishing the dsh
¼ cup toasted pignoli (pine nuts), or hazelnuts
Freshly ground black pepper
zest and juice of ½ lemon
1 cup fresh ricotta cheese (if not overly fresh, mix in 2 tablespoons cream)
Flaky sea salt
Toasted country-style bread (for serving)

For the dressing:
1 handful of mint sprigs, divided
1 small garlic clove, finely grated
2 tablespoons white wine vinegar
¾ teaspoon sugar
1 teaspoon Aleppo pepper, or ½ teaspoon crushed red pepper flakes

Directions
Make the dressing: Take 3 sprigs of mint in one hand and gently smack them with the other hand. (This is a bartender’s trick to warm the mint slightly and release the oils that give it that quintessential aroma.) Mix the smacked mint in a large bowl with the garlic, vinegar, sugar, Aleppo pepper (or red pepper flakes), and 2 tablespoons of the oil. Set the dressing aside.

Kitchen Goddess note on the dressing: The first time I made this dish, I discovered too late that the mint I had was long dead. Ex the mint, the ingredients were strangely reminiscent of Wish-Bone Italian Salad Dressing, so I bagged this part of the recipe and used my friend Wish-Bone instead. The second time I made it, I had good, fresh mint, and made the dressing as originally planned. I can’t say that I noticed a huge difference, though you may be a bigger food snob than the KG. But the fresh mint is a nice touch in both the dressing and the garnish. Just saying...



Preheat the oven to 350°F. Gently toss the tomatoes in a small bowl with 1 tablespoon of the olive oil, and sprinkle them with a pinch of salt. Pour them onto a rimmed baking sheet lined with baker’s parchment, add the thyme, and roast 30-40 minutes or until the tomatoes have begun to split and release juice.



While the tomatoes are roasting, cut the squash in half lengthwise, and sprinkle the cut sides with the 1½ teaspoons of kosher salt. (This process will get the squash to give up some of its water, which will intensify the squash flavor.) Set the squash in a colander to drain over a bowl for 15-30 minutes, then pat dry with paper towels. Cut the squash into pieces about 2 inches long.



While the tomatoes roast and the squash drains, toast the pignoli nuts (or hazelnuts) in a small skillet over medium heat for 5-10 minutes, or on a rimmed baking sheet in a 350° oven for 10-15 minutes. If you use hazelnuts, chop them into large pieces; no need to chop pignolis.

Heat 2 tablespoons of oil in a large skillet – preferably cast iron – at medium-high until it shimmers. Arrange the squash cut side down in a single layer in the skillet, and cook for about 5 minutes, moving the pieces around (don’t turn them over!) in the pan to ensure even browning, until golden brown on the cut side. Reduce the heat to medium-low, cover the skillet (if you don’t have a lid, use a baking sheet), and continue to cook until very tender, 12-15 minutes. Transfer the squash to a plate, cut side up, and let it cool slightly.



Sprinkle the squash with the reserved dressing (or Wish-Bone); season with kosher salt and freshly ground black pepper. Let sit at room temperature for about 10 minutes. Discard the mint sprigs.

While the squash is soaking up the dressing, mix the ricotta with the lemon zest and the remaining 1 tablespoon of oil in a small bowl; season to taste with kosher salt.

Spread the ricotta in the bottom of an oven-safe dish. Top with the squash pieces and their juices. If you want, run the dish in the oven for another 5-6 minutes, to warm the ricotta. Remove from the oven and sprinkle the lemon juice over the top. Scatter the pignoli (or hazelnuts) and leaves from the remaining mint sprigs over the squash. Drizzle on a little extra olive oil and sprinkle with finishing salt.

Serve with toast.

Wednesday, May 18, 2016

It Was a Dark and Stormy Night...
What’s cooking? Fusilli with No-cook Tomato Sauce


The first mystery of the day is what I named that file where I wrote the recipe for today’s post. I’m pretty sure I recall doing that, and I probably named it something clever and memorable.

Then there’s the question of where the time goes when I sit down at my computer. Because I made this pasta a week ago, took the photos, and planned what I’d say about it. That’s a mystery that haunts me daily.

But the mystery that started this train of thought was Murder on the Orient Express, Agatha Christie’s classic novel. Published in 1934, it’s been adapted once as a movie (1974, starring Albert Finney), once for radio (1992-3 in a 5-part BBC series, starring John Moffat), and three times for television (2001 by CBS, starring Alfred Molina; 2010 by a British company and WGBH-TV, starring David Suchet; and 2015 by Fuji Television, with an all-Japanese cast). Another film version, starring Kenneth Branagh as Poirot, is expected out next year.

I’ve read it more than once, but most recently as my book group’s choice for the month of May. And even though I know the ending well, I always enjoy riding along with Dame Agatha as she unspools her clues. In fact, except for the Tommy and Tuppence Beresford books, I believe I’ve read almost all of Christie’s mysteries.


My fascination with mystery started with Carolyn Keene’s Nancy Drew, which I devoured in my preteen years. By high school, I’d graduated to Erle Stanley Gardner’s Perry Mason series, and when I finished that, I moved on to Miss Marple and Hercule Poirot. I’ve since covered the landscape of Raymond Chandler, Colin Dexter, Elizabeth George, Sue Grafton, Dashiell Hammett, P.D. James, John D. MacDonald, Ross Macdonald, Ngaio Marsh, Robert Parker,  Dorothy L. Sayers, Rex Stout, and, of course, the delicious Arthur Conan Doyle. Whew! So I guess you’d say I like a good murder mystery.

Mostly what I think I like is the logic – the straightforward, linear storytelling with at least the chance that I might figure out whodunnit. And an unequivocal solution at the end.

A Cool Sauce on Hot Pasta

As the hostess for my book group’s mystery night, I wanted to serve something that wouldn’t require a lot of last-minute attention. In colder months, I often serve soup; but May in Texas isn’t soup weather. Then I remembered a dish that an Italian friend used to make in New Jersey – one that required only the heat of the just-cooked pasta to warm up the sauce. I found several variations on the web, and most of them credited my old favorite – The Silver Palate Cookbook – as the originator. So that’s where I started, too, and only added a couple of tweaks of my own.

The best thing about this sauce is that you need to assemble it hours before the guests arrive – so there’s really no way to run late. Allow however much time you need to heat the pasta water, and once the pasta is cooked, you toss it with the sauce and the dish is ready. It really couldn’t be easier. And my book group declared it “delicious!” No mystery there.


Fusilli with No-cook Tomato Sauce

Adapted from The Silver Palate Cookbook (Workman Publishing, 1982)

Serves 8 as a main course.

Ingredients
4 pints sweet cherry tomatoes
1 pound good Brie cheese
1 cup fresh basil leaves
½ cup oil-cured black olives, halved
zest of 1 lemon
3 garlic cloves, minced
1 scant cup olive oil
2½ teaspoons kosher salt, plus salt for the pasta water
½ teaspoon freshly ground black pepper
1½ pounds fusilli
garnish: freshly grated Parmigiano-Reggiano

Preparation
To make the Brie easier to slice, put it into the freezer while you cut up the tomatoes.

Cut the cherry tomatoes into quarters or eighths, depending on the look you want. (The Kitchen Goddess cut hers into quarters.) Place them in a large mixing bowl.

Trim the rind off the Brie and slice it into ½-inch dice. Scatter it on top of the tomatoes.

Make a chiffonade of the basil leaves: Stack 8-10 leaves into a neat pile. Roll the leaves into a fairly tight cigar shape, and slice across the cigar in strips about ⅛ inch wide. Sprinkle the basil strips on top of the tomatoes and Brie. Repeat with the remaining basil. [Kitchen Goddess note: For the KG’s demonstration of chiffonade technique, click here.]

The sauce after less than one hour.
Add the olives, lemon zest, garlic, olive oil, salt, and pepper to the bowl, and stir gently to combine the ingredients. Cover the bowl and set it aside for 3-4 hours at room temperature, stirring gently about once an hour.
The sauce after 4 hours.






Set a large pot of well-salted water on the stove for the pasta. When you are almost ready to serve, cook the pasta according to package directions. Once the pasta is tender but still a little al dente, drain it and add it immediately to the bowl of sauce. Toss well and serve with freshly grated Parmigiano-Reggiano.

Kitchen Goddess note: The KG has specified fusilli here, because she likes a pasta with some shape to it, to help trap the gooey cheese in the sauce. But other types of pasta will do as well, such as gemelli (twists), radiatore (radiator shapes), or farfalle (bow ties). 




Saturday, October 13, 2012

Preserving My Sanity
What’s cooking? Red and Yellow Cherry Tomato Confit



I spent 10 days in Italy, and all I got was this sinus infection. That’s not really true, but it is what’s most on my mind right now. So while I try to get my ears to unclog, and gather my thoughts for a couple of posts about the most foodie-friendly place on earth – that would be the Amalfi Coast – I have something for you to do with your spare time this weekend. You’re welcome.

It’s the end of the official tomato season, and what better way to hang onto it than to literally preserve some. I know, I’ve beat this horse till it’s probably long past dead in your minds, but in the middle of winter, when everything outside is gray and brown and white, you will thank your lucky stars that your good friend, The Kitchen Goddess, persuaded you to put some of these goodies away in jars.

Let me start by saying that this is sooooo easy, and yet the results will make you the envy of all your friends. I’ve checked my local Whole Foods, and it seems that those really sweet cherry tomatoes are still available. So whether or not you have a Whole Foods nearby, you can probably find both red and yellow cherry tomatoes in stock at your local grocer or farmers’ market; if not, go for just red or whatever color you can find. I like the mix of red and yellow just for the color. And while I’ve used rosemary as my herb of choice, that’s mostly because the stuff grows like cactus down here in Texas, so I’m always trimming back my rosemary bushes and just throwing the branches away. You could also go for fresh oregano or some combination of oregano, thyme, rosemary, French tarragon, dill, or basil.


Confit (pronounced “con-fee”) originally developed as a way to preserve meats, salting and seasoning them and cooking them for a long time in their own fat, then cooling and storing them in the fat. Nowadays, many fruits and veggies are made into confit by just cooking the hell out of them. In fact, Giada has an apple and onion confit that looks delicious, though I only just discovered it in the process of writing this post. Have to try that. And lemon confit, which is used as a seasoning, and in which the lemons are preserved for 1-3 months in salt, is a whole different animal, but well worth trying.

This cherry tomato confit is completely wonderful as a topping for bruschetta, and Melissa Clark, from whom I adapted this recipe, says she serves it over fresh ricotta with crusty bread. I most often serve it on pasta, though it would go equally well over polenta or quinoa or creamy risotto. Straight from the jar, it makes a bright, really flavorful topping. All you might want to add is some grated parmesan, but I could see stirring in some sautéed mushrooms or sliced Italian sausage. So make a big batch, preserve some in jars, and leave the rest for dinner this week. In fact, even without that whole processing-in-boiling-water business, if you put the confit in jars, it will last at least a month in the refrigerator.


Red and Yellow Cherry Tomato Confit
Adapted from Melissa Clark in The New York Times

1 pint red cherry tomatoes
1 pint yellow cherry tomatoes
3-4 large cloves garlic, minced
¼ cup olive oil
leaves from 3 6-inch stems of fresh rosemary (a scant ¼ cup)
¼ teaspoon Aleppo pepper (alternatively, a pinch of crushed red pepper)
Kosher salt and freshly ground pepper

Preheat oven to 375º. In a large bowl, with a wooden spoon, gently stir together the tomatoes, garlic, olive oil, and rosemary. Spread the mixture out evenly onto a sheet pan, and sprinkle with Aleppo pepper (or pepper flakes), kosher salt, and pepper. Bake 45-50 minutes, until the tomatoes start to look wrinkled. Shake the pan a couple of times during the baking to keep the tomatoes distributed in the oil.

If you’re not eating them immediately, store the tomatoes – along with the oil, garlic, and herbs –  in jars. Keeps one month in the refrigerator.