Not a pain at all

Pain Petri: a challah infused with fennel seed and topped with sesame seed.

 

Tonight is the first night of Hannuka. I haven’t yet planned on when I’ll make my latkes and brisket, but you can bet it will be before the week is out. I did bake a batch of fennel infused challah bread, though. As good a way to kick of the holiday as any.

Over the past couple of years, I’ve been back in touch with a couple of my Cohen cousins via the internet. Sandra has been sharing recipes along with the family updates.

Knowing my fondness for fennel she recently sent along a recipe for Pain Petri: a challah seasoned with fennel seeds. Sandra said her daughter, Elysa, makes it and it’s quite good and she thought I might enjoy the “mixture of {my} two heritages.” She forwarded me the recipe below from noted cookbook writer Joan Nathan. The best part is, the bread can be made in an hour. Quick as it is, the aroma wafting from the oven while the bread bakes will make you wish the clock would run faster.

      

Pain Petri  (Anise-Flavored Challah with Sesame Seeds)

 

Makes 4 challahs (16 servings)

• 2 tablespoons active dry yeast
• 2 cups lukewarm water
• 2 large eggs, plus 2 large egg yolks
• 1/2 cup peanut or vegetable oil
• 7 to 8 cups flour, plus more for dusting
• 1 tablespoon salt
• 1/3 cup sugar
• 2 heaping teaspoons anise seeds (note, I had fennel seeds on hand and substituted them for the anise seed)
• 1 tablespoon water
• 11/2 tablespoons roasted sesame seeds

Position oven racks in the upper and lower thirds of the oven; preheat to 375º, and line two large baking sheets with parchment paper.

Put the yeast in the bowl of a stand mixer equipped with a dough hook, and pour in the water. Stir; when the yeast has dissolved, whisk in the two whole eggs, then add the oil.

Add 7 cups of the flour, the salt, sugar and anise seeds to the bowl, and beat for a few minutes, until the dough is smooth and elastic, adding flour as necessary. Form into a round loaf, then poke a 1-inch hole all the way through the center. Let the dough rest uncovered on a floured surface for about 10 minutes.

Use a knife or bench scraper to divide the dough into four equal pieces.

If needed, re-flour the work surface. Flour your hands.

Roll one of the pieces of dough into a cylinder about 20 inches long. Use the palms of your hands to flatten it, then roll it into a rope about 2 feet long, making sure there are no seams in the dough. Bring the two ends next to each other and twist to form a loose spiral.

Place on one of two lined baking sheets. Repeat with the remaining three pieces of dough, placing two on each baking sheet.

Beat the two egg yolks in a bowl, then add the water. Stir well, and brush all of the mixture over the loaves. Sprinkle the sesame seeds on top.

Bake for 10 minutes, then reduce the temperature to 350º and bake for 15 minutes, then rotate the baking sheets top to bottom and front to back. Bake for 15 minutes, or until the loaves sound hollow when tapped.

Cool before serving.

Note: Toast the sesame seeds in a dry skillet over medium heat for 3 to 5 minutes, stirring or shaking them frequently, just until fragrant and lightly browned.

Invest an hour in this recipe. You’ll light up at the results.

Happy Hannuka!

　

　

Tomato time

 

Tomatoes at the Trenton Farmers Market

Yeah. Summer in Jersey, what are you going to eat?

Tomatoes.

And you don’t have to go to a whole lot of fuss with them. 

Slice, season, savor.

This past Saturday was a hectic day.

I had some errands in the morning.  Then we ran out to Mainland, PA for lunch with Ann’s family to celebrate my mother-in-law’s birthday.  Back home, take care of the dogs and then I was off to the Thunder game.

By time I got home, I was tired but a little hungry and it was heading towards 10 pm.

What to do?

Then I remembered something I’d heard on the radio earlier in the day.  During a segment on NPR’s weekend edition chef/restaurateur Scott Conant said:

“A good tomato raw, with a little bit of salt and a touch of olive oil, is just one of the world’s most simple pleasures…”

(to hear Conant’s interview, click here; to read a transcript, click here.)

So that’s what I did.  Sliced a perfectly ripe local tomato, sprinkled on a little sea salt and drizzled on the olive oil. 

Season's best

Light, refreshing and satisfying.

Tomato salad tradition

NOTE: This originally appeared as a note on my FB page on August 21, 2009.

A fixture on our summer dinner table was the “Italian” tomato salad.  At its simplest, slices of perfectly ripe Jersey tomatoes and thin ribbons of sliced onion were dressed with red wine vinegar and olive oil. 

Variations might include some diced hot pepper (I come from a long line of hot pepper lovers), the addition of minced garlic, and/or fresh herbs.  One of my aunts would even scramble the tomatoes, onions and hot pepper version with some eggs to add onto hamburgers, hot dogs, pork roll or sausage sandwiches at cookouts.

No matter how prepared, it was hard to escape the presence of tomato salad all summer long.  And who would want to?

Those gorgeous, thick slices of tangy tomato paired with pungent onions, simply seasoned and doused with oil and vinegar.  What else could you ask for?

Well, bread (and butter) for one.

When the salad was gone, it wasn’t unheard of to take a slice of good bread, slather it with butter and use it to sop up the mixture of dressing and tomato juices left behind on the platter.  And if the meal happened to take place at my grandmother’s house, there might be the end of a loaf of pumpernickel bread available for use in sucking up the oil and vinegar mixture (my grandmother was Jewish, but had married into an Italian family so there was always this wonderful mix of foods and culture at her house but we‘ll have more on that at a later date)

If, as was often the case, corn on the cob was also on the menu that night, it provided another “bonus” to those of us longing to sop up the salad juices.  Most of the time we would use a buttered slice of bread wrapped around the ear of corn to butter the kernels.  Passed around the table over the course of the meal, the slice of bread would be nearly saturated in melted butter.  To gain ownership of that bread and be able to use it for sopping up the tomato salad dressing was a double score.

I always thought this bread and tomato salad pairing was just something that my family did.  As my interest in food and cooking grew, I learned of a traditional Italian dish known as “panzanella.”

According to Marcella Hazan’s The Classic Italian Cookbook this salad was a staple of the poor in Tuscany and Rome.  Panzanella was a way to use up stale bread and the vegetables at hand to make a filling dish. Click here for recipe

What is “panzanella?” Think of a salad of chopped tomatoes, sweet pepper, cucumber and onion reinforced with cubes of stale bread to soak up the juices; an inverted bruschetta were the bread is broken up and tossed into the chopped tomato and garlic topping.

It’s a wonderfully refreshing starter, salad or lite lunch utilizing local produce at it’s seasonal best.

Guess our family’s habit of applying bread slices as a means to get the very last of the tomato salad goodness was just a modern twist on a traditional Italian favorite.

An artfully refreshing lunch: Panzanella salad and a bottle of Pinot Grigio. Photo courtesy of Farnsworth Gallery, Bordentown, NJ

Jersey detox sandwich

 We’re just back from an extended weekend road trip to Vermont and back.  As with all travel, a large part of the fun was trying out new places and local foods and this trip was no exception.  Plus, we were there for the wedding of the daughter of dear friends so there was all kinds of great food to overindulge in!

I asked my wife what she wanted for lunch today and she said, “something light and refreshing.” Then she suggested a simple sandwich of fresh mozzarella, tomato and basil on focaccia. Since I was running out to the market to replenish our cupboard anyway, this seemed like a good idea.

While I wasn’t able to secure a focaccia, I did get a ciabatta loaf, some jersey field grown tomatoes, a bunch of fresh basil and some handmade mozzarella at the farmer’s market. 

Back at home, I cut a four-inch length of the ciabatta and split it in half horizontally.

I laid a few basil (washed and blotted dry) on the bottom piece of bread.  On top of that I laid a couple of nice slices of tomato and then lightly sprinkled the them with a stingy pinch of kosher salt.  One quarter-inch thick slices of mozzarella were then placed over the tomato.  Add the top of the bread and you’re done.

A sweet, tangy, aromatic taste of summer between two pieces of good bread.  I feel better already.

Making ends meet

It’s been a hectic week. 

Sunday through Wednesday, I was off on a trip to Montauk, NY with the guys.  We ostensibly went to fish for striped bass and bluefish.  Truthfully, the conversation and camaraderie are the real attractions. 

And the food.

One of the hallmarks of this annual trip has been the outrageously wonderful things we do with the catch of the day.  I hope to get to posting some of those dishes soon.

Meanwhile, back at work yesterday and today, I have been playing some serious “catch-up” (not catsup as in Heinz) in the office.  Both days, I didn’t leave my desk until about two in the afternoon and only then because I had to run to make a deposit at the bank.

Today, I also ran home for a quick bite of lunch.  You see, I only live a few blocks from the office I work in and the company’s bank has a branch that completes a neat little three-block triangle.

I was trying to think of something available at home for a quick, satisfying bite as I left the bank.  In my mind I was running through the inventory of items

I knew were available to me at home when inspiration struck.

I had taken a couple of bacon ends to Montauk with me with the intent of dicing them up, frying them off and then tossing with some fresh, late season green beans for dinner one night.  As the successive waves of provisions were loaded into the fridge at the borrowed house, the bacon got lost in the shuffle, only to be found when we were packing everything up to return home. 

Also in the fridge was a piece of bleu cheese…two different kinds, actually.  A piece of gorgonzola and a piece of stilton; the former had been served with cocktails one evening and the latter with honey as dessert.  Somehow, I had inherited them both when we broke camp.

There was a rustic country loaf I had baked sitting, untouched on the counter.

Suddenly, I had a plan.

Upon entering the house, I made straight for the kitchen.  The cheese and the bacon were retrieved from the icebox.  A small frying pan was placed on the stove over a medium flame and in went the pork.

With the pork fat slowly rendering out of the bacon, I turned to the bread and cut off the heel far enough in to get then carve off two sandwich size slices. (I confess I ate the heel with a hunk of the bleu cheese).

After turning the bacon over in the pan, I cut two very thin portions of the cheese and laid one each on the slices of bread.

At this point, the aroma of the sizzling bacon roused the dogs from their afternoon nap.  Kirby had gone out into the backyard to patrol for squirrels, but Jackson stayed in the kitchen to supervise me.  His diligence rewarded with a taste of the cheese.

When the bacon ends were fully cooked, I removed them to a cutting board and broke them down into bite-sized pieces.  Placing the bacon on top of the cheese on one piece of bread, I inverted the remaining cheese adorned slice on top and pressed down!

Sandwich of bacon and bleu cheese

Voila!  Bacon and bleu cheese sandwich.

(Just don’t tell my physician, ok?)