Recipes for My Bestest Cousin #1: Chard and Pasta!

"Bestest Cousin" recipes are for my dear non-cooking, corn-dog-munchin' cousin. (That corn dog pizza photo you posted was a hoax, wasn't it?). These recipes are really quite simple. The only reason I’ve gone into so much detail is that the first time one makes a recipe it’s nice to know “how big should these pieces be?” and “how long should I cook it?” and so on. If I, her most bestest Massachusetts cousin, can’t be at her side the first time she does this, at least I can divert her with my droll, nearly compulsive descriptions of the cooking process.

Yes, I take my veggie prep very seriously, madam!
Always read through the whole recipe before you begin.

Ingredients

• 1 big bunch of chard (white will work, but red or rainbow is the prettiest; if the bunches are smallish, get two for good measure)
• 2-3 cloves of garlic (don’t worry, it won’t be too garlicky)
• 1 medium onion
• 3 Tbs. olive oil (approximately; enough to coat the bottom of the frying pan, in any case; a bit more if you like olive oily goodness)
• 1 lemon
• 2-3 ripe tomatoes (I know you love them now!)
• plenty of shredded Parmesan cheese (mmmmmmmm)
• 1 box penne pasta (that’s 1 lb.; you can use other shapes, of course, but this one seems to work the nicest)
• salt (oh, yeah; don’t forget the salt)

Directions

1. Set the water to boil as you prepare all the veggies, but don’t add the pasta until you start sautéing the the veggies. Follow the directions on the box. Make sure to use lots of water, or the pasta sticks to itself.
2. Tomatoes: chop into “large dice” (i.e. smaller than you would make them for a salad, but a bit bigger than they would be in salsa).
3. Lemon: cut into wedges.
4. Cheese: shred with the smaller of the two standard sizes on a grater; about 2 cups worth should do. (More if you’re a typical Wisconsin family, of course.)
5. Chard: make sure to rinse it very well in cold water (sometimes there’s a little dirt or grit left on leafy veggies like chard). Trim off just the very end of the stems. Then separate the stems from the leafy part. (Just run the knife down either side of the stem. You don’t have to be too exact here. In fact, you can just skip the step altogether and simply chop the chard whole. I just like separating the stems, though so I can cook them longer than the leaves. It makes everything a more consistent texture.) Chop the stems into ¼ - or ½ - inch pieces. Set them aside. Stack up all the leaves and give it a couple of cuts through them all with a knife. You can leave the leaves in pretty big pieces, because they really shrink down when they cook.
6. Garlic: take the papery stuff off by trimming the end and peeling. Place on a cutting board, put the flat side of a wide knife on top, and give ‘em a good hard whack. Garlic will be smashed but basically in one piece still. Fun.
7. Onion: chop into dice (a bit smaller than those tomato chunks, but big enough that they won’t simply dissolve when you cook them). Do this last if onions make you cry. (You big crybaby!)
8. Heat the olive oil in a big, heavy sauté or fry pan over a medium high heat. Give it a few minutes to get to it’s full temperature, and then toss in the cloves of garlic. You’re just going to flavor the oil, so let them go until they are nice and golden brown on one side, then kind of flip them over and brown the other side, too. (Medium high heat should be hot enough that the cloves of garlic sizzle immediately but that they don’t start scorching right away.) Take the cloves out and toss them away before they get too dark. (Dark garlic gets a bitter taste.)
9. Put the pasta in the fully boiling water now. It will probably take about 10-12 minutes or so to cook, and that’s plenty of time for the veggies.
10. Add the onion. Flip them around occasionally with a spatula. Let them get translucent (shiny and a bit see-through). Just as they are starting to brown a bit around the edges, then...
11. Add the stem pieces. Cook them for about as long as you cooked the onion. Test a little piece with a fork. If it’s pretty tender to bite into, then...
12. Add the leafy bits. You’re going to start stirring this in careful, because the uncooked leaves like to jump out of the pan about now. As you stir and flip all the ingredients together in the pan, you’ll be surprised at how quickly they start to cook down. It’s at this stage that you want to add salt. One always salts “to taste,” but you might start with about 1 tsp.
13. Once you’ve stirred and tossed enough to evenly distribute the salt, and once the leafy parts are all nice and limp, give it a taste. Check to see if the salt level is where you want it. Check to see if the leaves and stems are both nice and tender. (You don’t want any significant crunch left in a cooked green leafy vegetable.) Then you are done. Turn off the heat and wait for the pasta to be done.
14. When the pasta is done, drain it and then just put it right into the frying pan with the chard (or back in the empty pasta pot if there’s not enough room; I like putting it in with the chard because when pasta is first out of the water it’s still “thirsty” and like so soak in liquids and flavors, like all the good stuff in the pan). Mix the chard and pasta together and put in serving bowl.
15. Everyone can add the tomato and cheese on their own plate and squeeze the lemon juice on their own. (I think the lemon is really key to bringing these ingredients all together. It’s amazing how many dishes need that little hint of acid for all the flavors to come out.)
16. Sweet boots! It’s time to eat.

Fee Fi Faux Pho

(Borrowed from Pleasures of the Vietnamese Table by Mai Pham)

Serves 6 as a main dish...
BROTH:

• 6 whole star anise, lightly toasted in a dry pan for 2 minutes
• 6 whole cloves, lightly toasted in a dry pan for 2 minutes
• 1 teaspoon whole black peppercorns
• 2 quarts store-bought low-sodium chicken broth
• 2 cups water
• 1 (3-inch) piece ginger, cut in half lengthwise, lightly bruised with the flat side of a knife and charred.
  
• Char ginger by holding the piece with tongs direcly over an open flame or placing it on a medium-hot electric burner. Turn and char edges until they are slightly blackened and the ginger is fragrant (3-4 minutes).
• 1 small yellow onion, charred.
• 3 tablespoons fish sauce
• 1 tablespoon sugar
• 1/4 teaspoon salt
• 2 chicken thighs or breasts (1 1/4 lbs)
  

In a large pot, bring star anise, cloves, black peppercorns, chicken broth, water, ginger, onion, fish sauce, sugar, and salt to a boil.
Add the chicken and cook for 5 minutes.
Reduce the heat and simmer until the chicken is done for 15 minutes.
Remove the chicken and set aside to cool. Keep broth simmering.
Hand-shred the chicken into thick strips.

NOODLE ASSEMBLY:

• 1 lb dried 1/16-inch-wide rice sticks, cooked
• 1/3 yellow onion, sliced paper-thin

GARNISHES:

• 2 scallions, cut into thin rings
• 3 tablespoons finely chopped cilantro
• 1/2 lb bean sprouts
• 10 springs Asian basil
• Thin rings of serrano chili or Thai bird chilies
• Fresh lime wedges
  

To serve, place cooked noodles in the bottom of the bowls.
Layer noodles with a few slices of yellow onions and shredded chicken.
Ladle boiling broth on top.
Garnish with scallions and cilantro, and/or bean sprouts, Asian basil, chili, or squeezes from lime wedges.

ENJOY!

First Challenge from "Fresh from the Oven"... Rustic Bread

As if I didn't have enough to do to keep up with Daring Kitchen challenges, I decided I simply HAD to join this lovely group of bread bakers, Fresh From the Oven. If not, I might never get beyond mundane pan loaves. Already I've be very grateful for the nudges and the advice. Thanks, guys!

Whether you are a baker or not, please check out the recipe at this lovely blog, The Fresh Loaf. I have to say it went more smoothly than I expected, but, also, the results were not exactly what I expected:

- The preferment (a dough base that uses a minimal amount of yeast to create a nice, slow, initial rise) came together for me like a charm. After mixing, I still had a bit of dry flour hanging out in the bottom of the bowl, so I gave the whole thing a couple quick kneads and it came together perfectly (lumpish but hydrated).
- In about 14 hours preferment was bubbly looking but pulled like taffy in chunks out of the bowl as I added it to the rest of the dough ingredients. I would put in 3 or 4 chunks, then give a couple quick kneads, then add a few more chunks. The two components incorporated beautifully, and working it by hand wasn't really any problem.
- Our humid Massachusetts weather must be perfect, because it rose right on schedule. I improvised the shaping into battards based on a few different instructions (especially Nick Malgieri in How to Bake). I decided to let the shaped loaves raise on a cookie sheet with cornmeal to prevent sticking. I tossed a cup of water into the bottom of the over as I slid the loaves in. Internal temperature (according to my instant read thermometer) reached 200 degrees just a minute or two shy of the 35 minute rough approximation from the recipe.

The results:
- Pretty tops, but the loaves merged into each other and kissed sides. No big deal, just not a perfect a final loaf. Next time I think I'll go for simple rounds. (Update: Corry had some great advice/ Why not just bake the loaves one at a time. An extra half hour of final rising isn't going to hurt anything.)
- Bottom of bread looks underdone! That cookie sheet really sucked some temperature off. Next time I've got to figure out a way to go directly on to my stone or preheat the sheet or something. It tastes fine, but it looks odd.
- I also think my instant read thermometer is a bit off. (I've noticed that roasts are a little less done than they should be, etc.) I'll have to add an extra 5 or 10 degrees for the target time, I think.
- The taste is nice and clean. (Didn't have a sour undertone from the preferment, at least not that I could taste.) The texture and grain have a nicer chew than the pan breads I usually make, but I was rather expecting a bigger difference there. I also thought the whole structure could have been a bit taller and stronger.
The rye four I used was stone ground. I wonder if that affected the texture some. Did it need something a little more fine grain to get a better chew/texture?
(Update: The bread improved with age! The next few days after first baking, the bread was at its best.)

Goals for future rustic loaves:
- Experiment with flours
- Improving shaping technique
- Find optimal baking surface

Bakewell Tart...er...Pudding

Well, here is the latest Daring Baker challenge. (Sorry it's a day late; my camera was having problems uploading). First, the "fine print":

The June Daring Bakers' challenge was hosted by Jasmine of Confessions of a Cardamom Addict and Annemarie of Ambrosia and Nectar. They chose a Traditional (UK) Bakewell Tart... er... pudding that was inspired by a rich baking history dating back to the 1800's in England.

Thanks, Jasmine and Annemarie!

A Bakewell Tart...er...Pudding is one of those interesting traditional English recipes that has lots of competing names, techniques and ingredients. I can't post all the details here, but let me know if you want more info (like, say, the recipe), and I'll gladly send it your way! Basically, though, it's a shortcrust pastry with a layer of fruit curd or jam and topped with fangipane (a kind of almond-egg-butter kinda soft, kinda chewy topping).

Since this challenge was in part about using seasonal fruit, I wanted to make a jam with fresh rhubarb from a friend's garden, but it wasn't ready for harvest. Next best option: LINGONBERRIES!

Perhaps I made this tart too quickly. Perhaps the kitchen was a little too hot for the butter stages. In any case, even though each stage seemed to go well (I brushed the crust with egg and poked holes for blind baking, the pre-baked crust looked nice, the frangipane looked right, I piped the frangipane in rather than spreading to prevent leaks), the end result was a flat frangipane toppping, too dark on top and not fully cooked/fluffy beneath. Bleh. I'm guessing that for some reason the specified 400 degree oven was, for my assembled components, too hot.
Everyone at the bbq where it was served seemed to like it, fortunately, and not a crumb was left. That's good, though I'll definitely tinker with the baking stage if I make this again. Cheers, all!

So you've got nothing for a salad: Apples and Celery Salad (in a pinch)

I guess I've been on this anti-lettuce kick for a while. Okay, not an anti-lettuce kick as such, but a resistance to the idea that every salad has to begin with lettuce and tomato (especially if tomatoes are out of season and the lettuce is all wilted at the store). Often the salad urge comes without the kinds of ingredients you automatically associate with salad. Well, I think you can make a delightful salad with probably anything you have around the house.

Case in point: Desperate for something cool, succulent, and refreshing today, I realized that I had almost nothing around but celery and some SwiftlyWiltingApples. No promblem! One of my favorites. Since living in Japan, where one obasan used to make sandwiches with a fabulous mix of veggies AND apple, I have come to regard the fruit as a perfect alternative for "sweet vegetables" (like tomato, red pepper, carrot, and even onion). Also, I've recently become a serious celery afficionado (or is that "afficionada"?). I'm particularly partial to the inner stalks of palest green and their attached leaves that run in color from green to yellow. I used to reserve celery leaves for making stock, but then I realized how much interesting flavor they could add to a chopped salad. Just the other week I also discovered that the celery leaves are high in potassium. I've also stopped neglecting the tougher "heart" of the celery near the base. Like the hearts of lettuce, it can be strong, sharp, rooty, and even nicely bitter. I usually cut the heart/core lengthwise (in half or in quarters, depending on the size) and slice in thin slivers to distribute through the salad. (An equally good technique for celery and for lettuce hearts.) Sliced thin, they do not overpower any single bite but lend their sharp and earthy goodness to the whole salad.

Oh, and did I mention this salad is Super Cheap?

Recipe:

- 1 inner stalk and core of celery, with leaves (stalks sliced into small bite-sized pieces along with attached leaves, core sliced thin)
- 2 apples (don't bother peeling, just chop into small bite sized pieces.

- 2 Tbs. rice vinegar (or whatever you have handy; I just like rice vinegar)
- 2 Tbs. olive oil
- 1-2 tsp. mustard
- 1-2 tsp. honey
- 1 tsp. tarragon (rubbed between palms to crush) (if you don't have tarragon, any "high taste" herb like marjoram, basil, or basil would be nice, too, I'm sure)
- big pinch o' salt

- handful finely chopped walnuts (optional, but I really like them)

Toss celery and apple in bowl. Whisk together dressing ingredients, taste and adjust as necessary. (The trick to tasting a vinegarette is to get all parts of your palate--sweet, sour, salty, and savory--firing more or less equally.) Toss the dressing over celery and apples (making especially sure to coat the apples so the vinegar can prevent them browning). Toss walnuts in last.

A good lunch when you want something light. Also nice on the side of something savory like a roast. This is a good fall-back salad for all four seasons.

Back to Basics: BEETS AND GREENS SALAD

Sorry about all the showy stuff. I like doing the baking challenges and wedding cakes and all, but it’s springtime, and in springtime a girl’s heart turns to whatever is coming out of the garden first. It’s probably a bit too early for most of us to find fine young beets with their fresh leafy greens still attached, but when you do see ‘em, GRAB ‘EM! The balance of the sweet beet roots and the earthy greens in the salad is just fabulous. A good iron boost, too.

1 bunch beets with greens still attached
X cloves of garlic (I leave how many cloves to your own palate and conscience; maybe start with 3 cloves and see how it looks)
olive oil
salt and pepper
crumbled blue OR feta cheese (optional, I guess, but I really like how it pulls the flavors together)

Prepare the beets:
Trim the beet greens off about an inch from root. Set aside.
Give the beet roots a little rinse and quick scrub. Trim off either end. Depending on size of beet and degree of cook’s impatience, half or quarter beets to decrease cooking time.
Cook beets until tender by your preferred method (wrapped in wax paper in the microwave usually does fine, as does boiling, but if I have the patience and attention not to let the water boil away and carbonize the bottom of my saucepot like last time I made this, I think steaming is the best method – most even cooking and least water logging).
Let the beets cool until you can handle them. Then you can just push the skin off with your thumb. (Don’t worry – your pink fingers will be back to a normal color very soon.) Cut beets into bite-sized chunks.)

As you are waiting for the beets to be done, you can

Prepare the greens:
Rinse the greens well, and chop them pretty fine. (Unless the stalks have gotten really thick, the stems and leaves will cook altogether rather nicely. Keep thicker stalks separate if they will need a bit more cooking time than the leafy part.)
Heat olive oil in a sautee pan over medium-high heat. Give the garlic cloves a smack with the side of your knife, just to get the juiciness flowing, and then lightly brown the cloves smacked-but-whole on both sides. Watch them so they don’t burn.
Once the garlic is lightly browned, toss in the greens and sautee until tender. Salt and pepper to taste. (I go light on the salt if I’m planning on adding cheese. I also like my beets pretty peppery.) Pull off the heat when done.

To assemble: The convenient part of this recipe is that it works at a range of temperatures. It doesn’t matter if the beets or the greens are done first. When both are done, toss the beet pieces in the pan with the greens (not to cook but to coat with all the nice pan juices). Remove garlic cloves and then put the beets and greens in your serving bowl. Toss with the crumbled blue or feta cheese.

A few considerations:
- If you don’t want you cheese too pink, sprinkle and toss just before serving.
- If you are refrigerating before serving, let the salad come back to room temp before serving. Tastes best in the “cool room temp” to “warm” range.
- If you choose not to use cheese, I’d mince that nice browned garlic and toss it in instead. It’s a little too much in combination with the cheese, though. (No need to waste that nice, browned garlic clove, though. Spread it on a piece of bread, why don’t you?!)
Finally, let me send out a general call for favorite simple salads, especially those that use no lettuce but rather highlight an individual vegetable of the season.

Wedding Cake!!

Here are some of my favorite wedding cake pictures (even though some of them are only ingredients and equipment). I'm still trying to figure out how to post my little slide show. Hold tight, and best to all!


























Oy! I can't get these pictures to line up in narrative order, so here you are. Treat it like a puzzle and figure out what order they are.