Memories and taste

After I graduated from college, I stayed in the greater St. Louis area for a couple of years. As was our custom, my roommate and I would treat each other to a night out for our birthdays (which happened to be just 10 days apart).

It was around this time that I really started developing my fascination with all things New Orléans: the music and the food especially. So for my birthday, we went to a place called Bobby’s Creole (now gone, I believe).

One of the specials on the blackboard that evening was “BBQ Shrimp.”  I’ve always been a shrimp lover and I’m fond of BBQ. What could be wrong?

When my entrée came out I was just slightly surprised. Instead of a plate, I was delivered a bowl of the sort in which you might be served pasta or a soup.  In the bowl were two of the largest shrimp I had ever seen. (These were probably U10′s meaning there were under 10 shrimp to a pound with an average being about five per pound or each shrimp weighing just over three ounces).

The shrimp were headless, but in the shell. They were also sitting in a clear, mahogany colored sauce and resting on a sediment of what turned out to be herbs and spices. On the side was a plate of crusty baguette.

While not what I had envisioned, I was game to try this dish and I am forever grateful that I did!

The only way to eat the shrimp was to pick them up and peel them with my hands. Once the shells were off, I was free to dip the shrimp in the sauce, nibble a bite and repeat.

The sauce was a butter-laden broth with a rich, herbal flavor and just the right amount of cayenne induced heat.

When the shrimp were gone, the bread was used for sopping up the remaining sauce. EXCELLENT!

A memorable meal with a great friend and a great experience.

***

Several years later, acknowledging my growing fascination with New Orléans/Louisiana culture, food and music, my sister gave me a copy of Terry Thompson’s Cajun – Creole Cooking cookbook for Christmas. In that book was a recipe for “Peppered Shrimp” that struck a familiar chord when I read it.

Sure enough, the first time I made that dish and tasted it my mind flashed back to my meal at Bobby’s Creole in University City, St. Louis County, Missouri. I’d found it! I’d found a way to make that dish I had enjoyed so much.

It should be noted that there was not yet an internet; no Google; no Ask Jeeves, etc. to help with research.

***

When I finally got to New Orleans, it was about a decade or so after my introduction to BBQ (or, more often, Barbeque) Shrimp. My wife and I met my former roommate and his wife in the Crescent City for a long weekend. Of the many places we ate, we had dinner one night at the Chez Helene outpost in the French Quarter.

Chez Helene was a long time, local favorite restaurant that had received some notice as being the inspiration for Chez Louisiane in the Tim Reid/Hugh Wilson TV sitcom Frank’s Place.  In the wake of the show’s short but very popular run, the French Quarter location was opened in an attempt to capture some of the tourist trade that didn’t want to be bothered to travel to the original location downtown on N. Robertson St.

So it was that we, as “tourists”, wandered into Chez Helene for dinner. Our order was easy for our server…the women ordered the Shrimp Creole, the men the Barbeque Shrimp. The rendition was quite good. Messy and rich, but not as hot as the Shrimp Creole (a fact we still laugh about today).

***

Over the years, I’ve made this dish for company, family or just the two of us. It was once the subject of a friendly dinner competition between a former employer and myself. I’ve also eaten it on subsequent trips to New Orléans (at Mr. B’s Bistro, for one place). The now defunct Penny’s Ribs restaurant here in Trenton had a passable version as a special menu item. It remains a favorite.

It always comes to mind around Mardi Gras, my birthday or when I’m dreaming of or recovering from a trip to New Orléans (as we just recently made over Easter weekend).

For the sake of gentility and ease of consumption, we sometimes prepare this with shelled, deveined shrimp. However, this dish is at its absolute best madewith shell-on and, when available, head-on shrimp. Regardless, good bread to sop up the juice is required. Add a salad and some white wine for a pleasing, if messy, meal.

New Orléans style BBQ Shrimp

• 1 cup of butter
• 1/2 cup of shrimp stock or bottled clam juice
• 1/4 cup dry white wine
• juice of one lemon
• 1/4 teaspoon freshly grated nutmeg
• 1 to 1 1/2 teaspoons minced fresh rosemary
• 1 to 1 1/2 teaspoons minced fresh basil
• 1 to 1 1/2 teaspoons minced fresh oregano
• 1 tablespoon fresh ground black pepper (more or less to taste)
• 1/2 tablespoon of salt
• 1 teaspoon good smoked paprika
• 1/2 to 1 teaspoon (or more if you like) cayenne pepper
• 2 pounds, shell-on (head-on, if available) shrimp. (NOTE: you don’t want anything smaller than “large” shrimp that run about 31 – 35 per pound. You can go as large as you like/can find, but we generally prefer the “jumbo” or “extra jumbo” that are 21 – 25 or 16 – 20 shrimp per pound respectively).

Rinse shrimp under cold running water and set aside to drain.

In a large, wide skillet or heavy dutch oven type pot, melt the butter over medium heat. Add the stock, wine and lemon juice and let come up to a simmer.  Add the herbs and spices, stir and simmer for about 20 minutes. The sauce should turn a lovely mahogany color and give off a very appetizing aroma.

Toss in the shrimp and stir to coat with the sauce. Let cook for 10 – 12 minutes over medium heat until all the shrimp have turned a lovely pink and have curled slightly.  Spoon into bowls with some of the sauce. Serve with good, crusty bread, a salad and some of the white wine.

Serves 2 – 4 people.

It’s a spring thing

The local fish monger had shad fillets and roe sets today. Just what I wanted for dinner.

I melted a couple of tablespoons of sweet butter in a large skillet with an equal amount of olive oil. When it got hot, I placed the shad fillet in the skillet skin side down. I had already salted and peppered the fillet.

I spooned some of the butter/oil over the top of the fillet and, after two minutes on the stove top, I placed the skillet in a pre-heated, 350 degree oven.

For the roe set, I had soaked them for an hour or so in some cool water with a hit of fresh squeezed lemon juice. Then I rinsed the set and patted it dry.

I gently separated the sacks and dusted them with some flour seasoned with white pepper and salt.

I heated up some bacon fat in small skillet over medium low heat and placed the roe set into the fat.

Meanwhile, I pulled the pan with the fillet out of the over and set it back on the stove top over medium heat. I let it cook for a couple of minutes and then poured in about 3 ounces of white wine. Turning the flame up to medium high, I let the wine reduce by half. Then I added a couple more tablespoons of butter and a few ounces of heavy cream. I removed the fish to a plate and kept it warm while continuing to sitr and reduce the wine/butter/cream mixture.

The roe set I turned over just as it was crisping up…about three minutes. I let the roe continue to cook for another three minutes or so and then removed from the heat.

As the sauce thickened, I added some finely chopped parsely, tasted for seasoning and salted and peppered as needed.

I napped the fillet with the sauce and sprinkled on more chopped parsely.

The roe set I placed on the side of the plate with the fillet. I had a small sprig of bronze fennel I got out of the garden that I minced up and sprinkled over the top of the roe.

As an accompaniment, I sauteed some oyster mushrooms and put them on the plate as well.

Spring had sprung!

Spring, one way or the other

Today was the first full day of Spring. It was, unfortunately, gray, cool and we had snow flurries this morning.

We haven’t had a bad winter, and I don’t mean to complain. Still we are ready to be done with the cold and the gray.

In an effort to welcome the season despite the weather, we opted to have a dish for dinner that reminds us of sunny, warm climes.

On our 2011 visit to the Cinque Terre in Italy, we had the local favorite known as “trenette al pesto.”

We’re all familiar with pesto, that wonderful sauce of fresh basil, garlic, pine nuts, olive oil and cheese. The traditional presentation in and around Genoa is to use the sauce to dress a bowl full of pasta (trenette, the Genovese “fettucini“) along with sliced, boiled new potatoes and fresh green beans.

Really! Pasta and potatoes in the same dish. And green beans for good measure. All dressed in fragrant, rich pesto. How could this not be good!

So, tonight, with company coming over and a real need for something to make us “think spring,” we whipped up a batch.  It did the trick.

Trenette al pesto

• 1 pound fettucini
• 4 new potatoes, boiled until just done and then peeled, sliced thin
• 6 ounces fresh green beans, cleaned and cooked in salted, boiling water until just crisp tender
• 1 cup of your favorite pesto, more or less to taste

Cook pasta according to package directions. When done, drain, reserving 1/3 to 1/2 cup pasta water. Stir pasta water into pesto until blended. In large bowl, toss pasta with potato slices and cooked green beans. Add pesto and toss again.

Serves 4

Enjoy!

 

A brisket for all seasons

Who doesn’t love beef brisket?

Here on the East Coast, most people know and like it brined (corned beef). In Texas, it is a prime cut for long slow cooking (smoked). And then, of course, the ultimate brined and smoked brisket that is steamed (pastrami).

Years ago during one of our trips to New Orleans, we dined at Tujague’s. Reportedly the second oldest restaurant in a city known for all levels of dining, Tujague’s is more of a local favorite than a “tourists must visit” kind of place. It is not often written about in the foodie mags. It is, in its own way, a classic and one that in my opinion is worth seeking out.

One of the house specialties at Tujague’s is their “boiled brisket.” Nothing could be more humble in name yet more superlative in flavor.

Sometime after that trip, I discovered, on the restaurant’s website, their recipe for this dish. Since that time, I have made this brisket at least once year, usually served with latkes as part of my Hanukkah celebration honoring the Jewish part of my heritage. It amuses me that I prepare a New Orleans Creole brisket recipe to celebrate Hanukkah. This provides a rare opportunity for me to combine my love of New Orleans, my French (my maternal great-great-grandparents entered this country at the port of New Orleans) and my Jewish family.

Recently, I had been overtaken by a strong craving for the brisket and so we purchased a seven pounder from the local BJ’s and I cooked it up for Sunday dinner with friends.

Preparing for our trip next month, yesterday I happened to be checking NOLA.com, the website of the New Orleans Times Picayune. In one of those quirky little coincidences,. I came across a story about the passing of one Steven Latter, the proprietor of Tujague’s.  It was interesting to read about how he and his brother took over the restaurant without any real food service experience and preserved this treasure.  Mr. Slatter (who, by the way, was Jewish) eventually bought his brother out to become the sole owner. Reading about him made me a little sad that I hadn’t actually met him as I think we might have enjoyed each other’s company.

I read the story and was contemplating what it might mean for the future of the restaurant. Sometimes, owners can be more than just the “boss” at a restaurant; they may provide the very soul of the establishment. As I mused on this, I noticed a link to a story from last year that talked about how great the “brisket sandwich” was. The sandwich was basically a roast beef poor boy/po’boy (the New Orleans version of a “hoagie” or “sub”) made with the house brisket and available only at the bar.

Aha!  Now I knew what I would do with some of the leftovers from Sunday’s brisket.

This noon, I ran out to Italian Peoples’ Bakery and picked up a loaf of their stick bread.

Back home, I made the sandwich and I was not disappointed.

Thank you, Mr. Slatter, for keeping Tujague’s traditions. 

 

Boiled Brisket Po’ Boy

• 12” length of good French or Italian stick bread sliced almost but not quite all the way through and opened up.
• 5 ounces of leftover boiled brisket (see recipe below) warmed, slightly
• Chopped lettuce
• Fresh tomato slices
• 2 Tbs Creole mustard (or dark, coarse grained mustard)
• 2 Tbs mayonnaise
• 2 Tbs prepared horseradish (or two taste)

“Dress” the bread with the mustard, mayo and horseradish. Add slices of tomato in one layer, then a light layer of lettuce. Cover evenly with slices of brisket (I warmed mine for one minute in the microwave). Close bread, using back edge of long knife to kind of stuff the filling back in while pressing down on the top of the bread with the palm of your free hand. Cut into two lengths and enjoy.  (I ate this myself but it would probably feed two normal people)

Boiled Brisket ala Tujague’s

• Fresh beef brisket (about 4 pounds)
• 2 onions sliced
• 2 ribs celery chopped
• 4 cloves of garlic
• 3 sprigs parsley
• 3 bay leaves
• ½ tbs. salt
• 12 whole black peppercorns

Put the beef brisket in a coup pot, having trimmed excess fat. Add the onions, celery, garlic, parsley, bay leaves, salt, and peppercorns. Cover with water and bring to a boil. Turn down heat and simmer slowly for 2 ½ to 3 hours or until brisket is very tender. When the brisket is ready, remove it form the pot, drain, and slice to serve. Serve brisket with horseradish sauce on the side.

Horseradish sauce

• ½ cup horseradish
• ½ cup Creole mustard
• 1 cup Catsup.

Blend and chill.

 

Crawfish Monica

Crawfish Monica with sweet pepper garnish

If you know me, you know that Thursday is “pasta night.”  There is little variation from that. It was the way it was as I was coming up and it is the way I prefer it now.

Unfortunately, every 1st and 3rd Thursday is also city council night. As such, I am often attending the meeting, which starts at 5;30 pm, and that throws dinner off schedule.

Last night, cold, damp, grey, was a council night. And a pasta night.

It was also the Thursday before Mardi Gras and just a few days after the Superbowl played in the Superdome, so I was especially attuned to New Orleans food inspirations.

In discussing dinner early in the day, I teasingly tossed out the idea of having Crawfish Monica for dinner. While we had everything we needed on hand (including the crawfish tailmeat), the evening’s schedule wasn’t condusive to an involved dinner prep.

We decided that pasta e fagioli would pass muster for Thursday night’s dinner. It could be slow simmered sans pasta until I was on my way home from city hall.

But the crawfish monica stuck in my mind.

With the threatened Snow-easter scheduled to come in overnight, we were prepared to batten down the hatches, have an adult beverage or two, build a fire and enjoy a relaxing dinner.

Crawfish Monica seemed to fit the bill.

It’s a rich dish. Fortunately, it is also satisfying so you don’t need to consume tons.

The dish screams NOLA! It is comforting and slightly decadent.  And it let afforded me the opportunity to have pasta two nights in a row.

Here’s a version of the dish from Emeril Lagasse and found on the Go Nola website.

Crawfish Monica

• 1 pound linguine or fettucine
• 2 tablespoons olive oil
• 6 tablespoons unsalted butter
• 1 cup chopped yellow onions
• 2 tablespoons minced garlic
• 2 teaspoons Essence, recipe follows
• 1/2 teaspoon salt
• 1/4 teaspoon cayenne
• 1/4 cup dry white wine2 cups heavy cream
• 1 tablespoon fresh lemon juice
• 1 pound crawfish tails*
• 1/2 cup chopped green onions
• 1/2 cup chopped fresh parsley leaves
• 1 cup grated Parmesan

Cook the pasta in a large pot of boiling salted water until al dente, about 8 minutes. Drain, reserving 1/4 cup of the cooking liquid. Return to the pot and toss with the olive oil and reserved cooking liquid. Cover to keep warm.

In a large saute pan or skillet, melt the butter over medium-high heat. Add the onions and cook, stirring, until soft, about 5 minutes. Add the garlic, Essence, salt, and cayenne, and cook, stirring, for 1 minute. Add the white wine and cook over high heat until nearly all evaporated. Add the cream lemon juice and cook, stirring occasionally, until slightly reduced. Add the crawfish tails and cook, stirring, to warm through. Add the onions and parsley and cook for 1 minute. Add the cooked pasta and toss to coat with the sauce. Cook until the pasta is warmed through, about 1 minute. Remove from the heat and add 1/2 cup of the cheese.

Turn out into a serving bowl and top with the remaining 1/2 cup of cheese. Serves 6 – 8

*What? You don’t have crawfish tailmeat in the freezer? Why not? Check the frozen seafood section of your favorite supermarket or fish monger. You can order it online from Cajun Grocer. I know, it is not cheap. Splurge and get a couple of pounds to keep in the freezer. You never know when you might want to make some crawfish etoufee or crawfish cheesebread (a recipe I’ll get around to posting someday).  And if you can’t find the crawfish tailmeat or don’t want to order it, use the small “salad” shrimp that are readily available in the grocery store.

Just remember to rename the dish, SHRIMP Monica.

A good night for a good woman’s chicken

It’s that time of year again when my mind and tastes turn to all things New Orleans. Carnival season officially started on January 6 (3 Kings Day/Epiphany) and runs until Mardi Gras…the day before Ash Wednesday. Even as I fret about the post holiday “bloat”, I find myself planning if/when I’ll make a King Cake; who I will share Muffalettas with; when I’ll make my next batch of “Jersey Street Gumbo,” etc. My pre-dinner Negroni or Manhattan morphs into a Sazerac; the medieval influenced Christmas carols segue into the second line and rumba rhythms.

Therefore, it really wasn’t a surprise that the daily question of “what do you want for dinner tonight” was answered with a dish from the Cajun/Creole canon. “Chicken a la Bonne Femme.”

I’m told the name means “Good woman’s chicken” or “Good wife’s chicken.” What it is, is just plain G-O-O-D!

While there are myriad versions of preparing this dish, we have always stuck with the recipe we found in this book:

We picked this up on our first trip to New Orleans back in 1989. We bought its sequel on our second trip a year later. We use them as much for reference and inspiration as we do for actually preparing all the recipes from them. The recipe for Chicken Bonne Femme is one we do go back to often. It’s a little labor intensive but rustic, satisfying and oh so tasty. Unfortunately, this recipe is for a company-sized meal (serves 8).

On this damp, chilly night when we were craving the dish, we sought a way to scale it down.

Using what we had at the ready, we were able to put together a very tasty rendition of this homey dish just the right size for us.

Give this a try…the “small version” for two. Add a bottle of wine and simple salad. It’s a real big easy…

Chicken Bonne Femme (for two)

(Poulet bonne femme pour deux)

• 3/4 to 1 pound chicken thighs
• 2 medium Yukon Gold potatoes, scrubbed, skin left on, sliced about 1/4 inch thick
• 1/4 pound thin sliced pancetta
• 1 medium yellow onion sliced thinly
• Salt, pepper and red (cayenne) pepper to taste

Preheat oven to 350 degrees F.

In a 10 inch, ovenproof skillet, cook the pancetta slices over medium low heat until nicely browned. Remove from pan and reserve.

Increase heat to medium and in the fat that has rendered out from the pancetta, lightly brown the chicken thighs (about 3 minutes per side.) Season well with salt, pepper, and red pepper. Remove from pan and reserve.

Brown the sliced potatoes in the remaining drippings 2 or 3 minutes per side. Add a little olive oil if need be to prevent the potatoes from sticking. Remove from pan.

In same skillet, layer some of the chicken thighs, the potatoes, some of the crisped pancetta and some of the onions. Repeat layers as needed to use up ingredients.

NOTE: don’t be afraid to season the potatoes as you layer them into the pan; you can be assertive with the seasoning of this dish.

Cover the pan and place in the pre-heated oven. Bake for 40 minutes. Remove cover and bake for 10 more.

Remove from oven and plate up. Serves 2.

Mustard pie

A few years ago I was attending a board meeting of an organization I worked for. The meeting was held in the evening, right after the end of the work day so it was decided we’d order pizza.  As the group tried to decide on how many pizzas and with what toppings, I mentioned the possibility of getting a “mustard pie.”

The group was stunned. No one sitting around the table had heard of such a thing. I couldn’t believe it. Some of these folks were lifelong Trentonians. Others had been around long enough, they surely should have at least heard of this if not tried it at least once.

Nope! They hadn’t and we didn’t get any that night, either.

So what, just what is “mustard pie?”  Simple. Tomato pie (pizza) with mustard.

A plain “mustard pie” from Papa’s. Note the mustard peaking out from under the sauce near the crust in the bottom of the picture.

Here in Trenton we take our pie seriously.  There is a particular, indigenous Trenton style that even has its own page on the Slice website. Basically, Trenton pizza or tomato pie has a thin but chewy crust, then cheese, toppings, sauce. Admittedly it is the pie I grew up on and, when done properly, it is the style that I crave over all others.

Unfortunately, what was once ubiquitous to this area has become somewhat of a rare delicacy. Fewer and fewer pizzerias make the true Trenton style any more. The well-known (as much for its lack of a public restroom as for its pies) DeLorenzo’s on Hudson Street in Chambersburg closed about a year ago. Their Robbinsville, NJ store carries on with mixed reviews (but I’m not getting into THAT discussion!).

The competing DeLorenzo’s on Hamilton (the original owners of both stores were brothers with a friendly, familiar rivalry) announced recently that they will be leaving the city for Hamilton Township, NJ. This was the DeLorenzo’s I brought members of the production team working on last year’s “One for the Money” film to for lunch. The entourage was made up of a native  of Buffalo, New York, a Canadian, and a Californian. They were impressed enough with Trenton pie to get permission to use the DeLorenzo’s name along with the names of other businesses for the film.

But I digress.

When we speak of Trenton tomato pie institutions we must pay extra reverence to Papa’s on Chambers Street at Roebling Avenue. Papa’s is the oldest family owned pizza restaurant in the United States!  Opened in 1912, it is still in the same family. Take that, Lombardy’s of New York City!

Stepping into Papa’s is a trip back to my youth. The paneling on the walls, the formica table tops. The decidedly delicious but seriously unpretentious antipasto.  And mustard pie!

I can remember mustard pies being around for a while but nobody really seems to know how they came about. When I asked Papa’s Nick Azzaro about it he kind of shrugged. “I dunno.”

Most people you ask, if they have heard about Mustard Pies at all, will point to a long gone place on Whittaker Avenue called “Shuster’s”.  They were definitely known for their Mustard Pie and use to fly a banner from the front of the building declaring it “The Home of the Mustard Pie.” Yet even those that remember the place and the pie, don’t know how it ever came about.

I pressed Nick a little harder. “You offer it as a special here on Monday nights. How did that come about?”

“I had this kid come to work for me. He used to work at that other place {Shuster’s} before they closed. He said to me one night, ‘You should make a mustard pie.’  So I did.”

What they do is, shape the crust for the pizza, schmear some spicy brown mustard over the crust (not a lot, just enough), then add the cheese, tomatoes, etc. It really is good. Would I want it every time I order a pie? No.  But every so often it is a very nice change.

If you are worried about a clash of flavors, don’t be. Have you ever had cheese board that had a little mustard on the sign for dipping? That worked, right?

Have you made a sandwich with mustard and fresh slices of tomato? The acid bite of the tomato and the sharpness of the mustard somehow both accentuating and attenuating each other?

That’s kind of what happens with the mustard pie.

Next time you are at Papa’s, order a mustard pie. You might just be surprised. Or, if you make pizza at home, spread just a little mustard on the crust before you build the rest of the pie. Get a real taste of Trenton-style.

Gone to the dogs

Two “Tony Goes” and a Turbo Dog

It was Friday evening of one of those weeks. The question was posed, “What do you want for dinner?”

“An Italian Hot Dog,” came the reply.

Not one to argue, I took a quick inventory of what we had on hand and what we would need to produce this local favorite. A quick trip to the store and I was set.

For those not familiar, the “Tony Goes” is the Trenton version of the Italian Hot Dog: a a dog served on a torpedo roll with yellow mustard, potatoes and green peppers. The “original” Italian-style hot dog, at least according to the Sbarro and Maccaroni families of Trenton. They ran the Casino restaurant (hence one of the dog’s aliases, “Casino dog”) where the sandwich was a specialty. It’s the place the NJ Legislature deemed the home of the offical “Jersey Dog” by proclamation.

Now, I understand that there are other restaurants in the state the claim to have been the originator of this sandwich. I am not going to enter into that debate.

What I know is that I grew up on the dogs from the Casino. They are the “benchmark” I measure all others against.  Or, I should say, the WERE the benchmark. The family sold the restuarant in Trenton a few years back. They made a stab at relocating across the river in Morrisville, PA that didn’t last.

Now, when the mood is upon us, we have to make the dogs ourselves. It’s not that difficult and the results are filling and satisfying. Ideally prepared on a flattop griddle, a large frying pan works well. The idea is to pre-cook the potato (a microwave works well…cook on high until fork tender) and finish it off in the pan with a little oil so it is a little crispy on the outside, soft inside. The pepper should be cooked so the skin is just starting to show some browing and the flesh is softening but retains a little bite. The dogs (we generally use Ballpark Angus bun-sized) are cooked in the fry pan, turning every few minutes until they have browned a bit all around.

Slice open a good, fresh torpedo roll from your favorite local bakery. Add a little yellow mustard, the dog, the peppers and potatoes (NOTE: there are NO onions in this sandwich, just peppers, potatoes and the hot dog). Serve it up. It’s a meal unto itself.

As for a beverage to wash the dogs down with, when I was a kid my choice was the “Lime Rickey” an electric green lime flavored soft-drink.

Nowadays, a beer is good. Abita‘s Turbo Dog works well.

A journey to discover a great snack

Vernazza, Cinque Terre, Italy

This one was tricky.

On our trip to Italy in 2011, we spend time in the Cinque Terre on the Ligurian Coast. The Cinque Terre, (literally, the five lands) are five villages situated among vineyards and olive groves that line the rocky slopes above the Ligurian Sea, a branch of the Mediterranean Sea.

On the day we hiked from Corniglia (the middle village, high up on a bluff over the sea) back to Monterosso, we stopped for rest and lunch in Vernazza. Just before leaving town for the next segment of our hike, I stopped into a pizzeria that advertised the local specialty, farinata.

Sold by the slice, in small shops, farinata is a large pancake made from ceci (chick pea) flour, water, salt and olive oil, baked in special pans in wood fired ovens. It’s also known as socca (France), cecina (Tuscany), or fainâ (Genoa).Most often eaten by hand, farinata is sometimes served as the filling for a sandwich or on top of a slice of traditional pizza. We like it just fine straight from the oven and a couple of pieces can be quite filling.Farinata is high in protien, but gluten free. It lends itself to doctoring up with toppings or, my preferred, just eaten plain.

Good stuff!

A slice of rosemary infused farinata

This past summer, I embarked upon a quest to make my own farinata. Turning to the internet, I found numerous recipes and several videos suggesting ways to prepare this dish. About the only thing they all had in common was the basic ingredients. After that, everyone had a different take on the best way to make it.The first problem for me was, what to make it in. In Italy, farinata is baked in circular pans made of tinned copper. Some recipes suggested using cast iron skillets, some said try a rimmed cookie sheet. My first attempt was made in an aluminum pizza pan that we had on hand. It was a little too shallow to hold the thin batter without making a mess. I remembered that we had an enameled paella pan and tried that. Better. Much better.

The next obstacle seemed to be the cooking procedure. I immediately discarded the notion of doing it on the stovetop, even partially, as in some recipes and one of the videos I had found. Baking was the way to go, but at what temp?

I tried high heat, but that didn’t seem to work. The farinata got a nice top and bottom crust but was either undercooked in the middle or crispy through. Trial and error led me to a process that seems to work for my pan, oven and patience. You may have to play around a bit to find what works for you, but it will be worth it.

Farinata

• 600 ml of water (approximately 2 1/2 cups)
• 200 grams of ceci flour (appoximately 1 2/3 cups)  NOTE: make as much batter as is needed, just keep the 3 parts water to 1 part flour ratio
• 1 to 1 1/2 tsp salt
• fresh cracked black pepper
• 1 or 2 tablespoons chopped, fresh rosemary (or sage, or a combination) to taste
• 1/2 to 3/4 cup extra virgin olive oil plus up to another 1/4 cup oil for the pan (use a good quality oil as it lends quite a bit of the character to the finished dish)

Mix the ceci (garbonzo bean) flour into water with a whisk. Let stand at room temperature for at least three hours or over night.

Pre-heat oven (with pizza stone, if you have it) to 475. Place the empty pan on the stone in oven so it can heat up while finishing the batter prep.

Using a slotted spoon, remove the foam from the top of the mixture. Stir chopped rosemary, salt, fresh ground black pepper, olive oil into batter. Mix well.

Add enough olive oil to pan to cover the bottom, swirl to coat evenly. Return the oiled pan to the overn and let it heat for just one minute.

Stir batter very well one more time, pour into hot, oiled pan. Immediately reduce heat to 350 and bake for 20- 25 minutes, turning pan once or twice for even cooking. Top should just be turning golden.

Kick on the broiler (high) and broil until top is a deep golden brown (turning once or twice to make sure it cooks evenly).

After about 7 – 10 minutes, removed from oven and sat on rack to cool for 10 minutes.

Gently loosen edges and bottom of farinata. Remove from pan and serve.

This will make a 12 inch diameter farinata that is a nice snack for four to six people. Served with a small salad, it could make a nice light meal.

One potato, two potato

A simple potato soup makes a comforting dinner

Faced with dire forecasts of a record breaking storm, we tried to figure out what foods we could prepare that were as comforting as they were nourishing.

With a good supply of local potatoes recently purchased at the Trenton Farmer’s Market, I figured we’d do some soup.

All was good until it came time to start the process. I couldn’t find the recipe I was looking for but, really, how hard is it to make potato soup.  A little stock, a little seasoning. A thick slice of rustic bread, toasted and topped with just a bit of cheddar cheese, a salad and to wash it all down, a glass of Guinness.

Simple Potato Soup

• 3 pounds (approximately) potatoes, peeled, cut in 3/4 inch pieces
• 1 quart (approximate) vegetable or chicken stock
• 1 cup milk
• salt and pepper to taste
• cooked, crumbled bacon for garnish

Place the cut up potatoes in a large enough pot that will accommodate them. Add the stock to full cover the potatoes (add a little water or more stock if need be). Over medium low fire, bring the stock to a soft boil and cook, stirring occasionally until the potatoes are cooked through. Using an immersion blender or, working in batches, a food processor, blend the potatoes into the stock until they are a nice, velvety consistency. Add the milk and check for seasoning. Add salt and pepper to taste.  Stir well and let sit on low flame for a few minutes more. Serve in bowls garnished with crumbled bacon.

It’ll take your mind off the weather outside.