I have a little problem. I'm addicted to cookbooks, food writing, recipe collecting, and cooking. I have a lot of recipes waiting for me to try them, and ideas from articles, tv, and restaurants often lead to new dishes. I started losing track of what I've done. So now I'm taking photos and writing about what I've prepared—unless it's terrible in which case I forget it ever happened.
Stuffed peppers have a reputation for being a little on the heavy side as food goes. There are meat and rice filled options. Sometimes polanos are stuffed and then breaded and fried. Other times, they're stuffed and covered with cheese and then broiled until gooey. Those options have their desirable qualities, but you rarely hear about a light and healthy kind of stuffed pepper. I've found one, though, that's definitely worth mentioning. It was a couple of weeks ago when I couldn't decide whether to make these stuffed poblanos or a spring barley risotto, and happily, I eventually made them both. This is also from the book Power Foods, and I've been enjoying everything I've tried from it. I'm finding that all the dishes I've tried from that book have a light and healthy feel to them but are still very satisfying. The filling for these poblanos is a mix of quinoa, sauteed mushrooms, black beans, and corn. They're topped with a little goat cheese and set into a smoky sauce of pureed chipotles, garlic, and cilantro. That sauce with some spiciness and the flavor of the roasted poblanos themselves brought some spunk to the quinoa filling, and there was just enough rich tanginess from the goat cheese on top.
I went my own way with the roasting of the poblanos. In the book, you are instructed to roast them on a baking sheet in the oven, but I always roast them right over the gas flame on top of the stove unless I roast them on the grill. I use tongs to turn them as they roast and char. Then, let them cool until you can touch them, then peel off the char, and cut down one side so you can remove the seeds. The poblanos can be roasted in advance if you'd like to get a head start. Next, the quick sauce was made by pureeing canned chipotles chiles, garlic, some salt, and water in a blender. To start the filling, quinoa was simmered while mushrooms were sauteed. Once cooked through, black beans and thawed, frozen corn were added to the mushrooms. Some of the goat cheese was stirred into the mushroom mixture with the cooked quinoa. That was spooned into the four roasted poblanos. The sauce was poured into a baking dish, the poblanos were set on the sauce, the remaining goat cheese was sprinkled on top of the poblanos, and the dish baked for about 20 minutes.
A heavy filling, crispy, fried coating, and thick, gooey, melted cheese layer were not needed here. Instead, flavors of chiles mingled with the quinoa, mushrooms, beans, and corn. There was added interest from the bits of goat cheese on top that browned as the poblanos baked. The lightness of the dish was nothing like what a stuffed pepper usually is, and that made it even better.
With a gouda cheese-filled, cornmeal biscuit topping and an earthy mushroom and lentil filling, I couldn’t pass up this pot pie. These were in the November issue of Bon Appetit, and there’s something irresistible about individual pot pies. You get to break into the crust, watch the steam escape, and then dig into your own little bowl of comfort food. I liked that these came with just a top crust which stayed nicely crisp while sealing off the bowls. And, the biscuit dough couldn’t have been easier to make. With the cornmeal in it, it was very easily handled, and it was simply divided into four pieces that were patted into rounds to cover the filling. The vegetarian filling here was hearty and full-flavored with the use of dried mushrooms, fresh mushrooms, potatoes, and lentils. The varied textures and rich and satisfying flavors made this recipe one for the permanent file.
Although there a few steps to putting these together, those steps can be done a little at a time. For instance, you could cook the lentils two days in advance, then you could finish preparing the filling the next day, store it in the refrigerator already portioned into bowls, and top it with the biscuit dough the day after that. Once you have cooked lentils, you move on to re-hydrating dried porcini, and you should measure the water that’s used to re-hydrate them because it’s added to the filling mixture later. To start the filling, fresh, sliced mushrooms were sauteed in olive oil with carrots, sage, and thyme. Garlic was added followed by flour. After a roux was formed with the flour, the porcini soaking liquid was stirred into the mixture. The soaked and chopped porcini were added with potato chunks, some soy sauce, and a little tomato paste. All of that simmered until the potatoes were tender. The filling was divided among four oven-proof bowls. As I mentioned, the biscuit topping was very easy to make. Flour, cornmeal, baking powder, and salt were combined, and butter was worked into the mixture. Buttermilk brought the dough together, and then I added some shredded aged gouda into the dough. The dough was cut into four pieces, and each piece was simply patted into a circle to fit into each bowl. Last, the remaining shredded cheese was sprinkled on top of each pot pie. They baked for about 30 minutes.
Mushrooms and lentils may not be pretty food, but the flavor with dried porcini and the boosts from soy sauce and tomato paste made up for the homely look. And, the flakey biscuit layer rich with aged gouda was a delicious cloak for the filling. In fact, that top biscuit layer got me thinking that pot pies should make occasional summer appearances because a filling of sweet corn and zucchini would be great under it too.
How about a dish of turkey with squash that has nothing to do with Thanksgiving? When I was digging through my files to locate the mini cranberry meringue pies the other day, I also found this healthy, autumnal meal from last October's issue of Living magazine. I have to admit, I haven't always been the biggest fan of spaghetti squash, but I think I've finally come around to really liking it. Here it's treated just like actual spaghetti with the meatballs piled on top of it, and with the sauteed mushrooms and greens, the sweetness of the squash is balanced. Now, you could go all the way with the theme and make a red sauce to top the spaghetti squash, but this dish was kept light with a sauce of simply simmered broth and extra vegetables.
A nice, big spaghetti squash was split down the middle lengthwise, seeds were removed, and it was roasted until tender which took about 45 minutes. When it was cool enough to handle, the skinny strands of squash were scraped with a fork into a colander and allowed to drain. Meanwhile, onion and garlic were sauteed and allowed to cool. Half of them were mixed into the ground turkey meatballs, and the other half were reserved for the sauce. The meatballs were browned in a large saute pan and then removed to a plate. Next, sliced mushrooms were sauteed, the reserved onion and garlic mixture was added to them, the meatballs were placed back in the pan, everything was covered with some stock, and it was left to simmer for a few minutes. Last, greens were added, and they could have been any greens but I used some local kale, and they were left to wilt before serving. The spaghetti squash was placed on plates and topped with the meatballs, mushrooms, greens, and sauce and hit with some grated parmesan.
I can't even remember how I last prepared spaghetti squash and why I then avoided it for so long, but I'm very glad I finally tried it again. With a dish that looks so much like standard spaghetti and meatballs, you don't even stop to consider that what you really have is a light and healthy, vegetable-heavy meal in disguise. And, now, enough of this talk of turkey with no mention of the big holiday. It's time for Thanksgiving week.
"This dish is for when you want to fuss a bit" is how Deborah Madison begins her intro to the recipe. True. It’s also for when you want incredible, lingering aromas in your kitchen and a richly flavored sauce. I would also say this is a mind-changing meal for anyone who thinks vegetables are boring. I read Local Flavorslast summer and made use of some local bounty with a few recipes from the book. I also tucked this recipe into the back of my mind for when winter arrived. The stew is made with parsnips, carrots, mushrooms, and herbs, and it’s served with lentils and potato puree. I just happened to have some du Puy lentils sent to me by my favorite Parisian cowgirl and a little package of dried porcini from our nearby Italian market, and the time had come for a slow-braised meal. So, yes, there was some fussing and use of several pots and pans and lots of chopping, but it was all very simple and very worth it.
You begin with the sauce which contained a lot of the same ingredients as the braised vegetables. You can use the trimmings from the mushrooms and parsnips which will be braised in the next step. Those trimmings were combined with onion, carrot, celery, garlic, thyme, a bay leaf, and some rosemary and were cooked in a large pot until the vegetables browned. Meanwhile, dried porcini were rehydrated in warm water. After the vegetables browned, tomato paste, flour, red wine, and the porcini and the soaking liquid were added. That was left to simmer for 45 minutes, it was then strained and further simmered to reduce a bit, some soy sauce was added, and butter was whisked into the sauce. See, that was easy, but just a little fussy, right? When you smell the sauce simmering, though, and I have to pause on that memory for a moment, you won’t mind. Next, it was on to the braised vegetables. Carrots, shallots, and parsnips were browned in a wide skillet. Mushrooms, a bay leaf, thyme, and minced rosemary were added. Some of the sauce was poured over the vegetables, and they were simmered for 25 minutes. At the same time, the lentils were cooked in water and drained, and then butter and some sauce were added. One more step would have been preparing potato or rutabaga and potato puree, but I got lucky here. I had some leftover mashed potatoes in the freezer which made quick work of that part of the dish. Certainly, this could be prepared over the course of a couple of days. You could prep all the vegetables and start with the sauce one day, and then wait to braise the stew vegetables and cook the lentils the next day.
The potato puree was mounded in a wide, shallow bowl. Some lentils were placed next to it, and the vegetables nestled all around in the red wine sauce. I would argue this dish was the boeuf bourguignon of the vegetarian world. The sauce’s flavors were layered and complex. The braised vegetables and lentils were steeped in those flavors, and the potato puree rounded out this ideal, winter comfort food. Next time I decide I want to 'fuss a bit,' I’ll at least double the quantity of sauce so I can stock my freezer for a lazy day.
During the week between Christmas and New Year’s, I became friends with the couch again. It had been a while since we’d spent time together, but we caught up and became comfortable pretty quickly. I don’t think I ever got around to napping, but I did read some cookbooks and food magazines and watch some television. As I sat lazily in front of the television one morning, pondering what we should enjoy for food on New Year’s Eve, there was a cooking show on that grabbed my attention. I can’t remember the last time I watched a cooking show and actually wanted to make what the host was making. What I was watching was Alex Guarnaschelli charring broccoli rabe to turn into a chunky pesto with garlic, olive oil, and parmesan. That pesto topped a pizza with cooked mushrooms and sliced, fresh mozzarella, and I liked this idea a lot. Our New Year’s Eve was going to be a simple stay at home affair with fun food like pizza and a couple of other snacks I’ll mention soon, and I immediately decided to steal Alex’s idea for how top our pizzas.
The full recipe found on the FoodNetwork site, involves skillet fried pizza dough. I skipped that step, made pizza dough with whole wheat flour, and baked my pizzas on a stone in a very hot oven. For the pesto, I charred the broccoli rabe in a saute pan with crushed red pepper. When it was tender and browned on the edges, it was transferred to a cutting board and chopped. Then, olive oil was drizzled over it, and minced garlic and grated parmesan were added. Next, sliced crimini mushrooms were sauteed in a small amount of oil. The goal with the mushrooms was to cook them until they were dry. I topped the pizza dough with the pesto, then some sliced mushrooms, and a layer of sliced, fresh mozzarella, and baked it for about 12 minutes. When each pizza came out of the oven, more parmesan was grated on top.
I’m glad I was lazy and sat around watching tv and learned about this pizza. The mushrooms and cheese and chunky pesto combined deliciously on top of the crispy, whole wheat crust. I probably should have chopped my broccoli rabe a little smaller, and I probably wasn’t quite generous enough with the olive oil in the pesto, but that’s ok because I’ll be making this so often I’ll eventually perfect the process. And, what all this really means is that I should start spending more time sitting on the couch.
Last week, there was an article in the NY Times about green bean casserole. Of course, this is a popular dish around holiday time, but it’s also a dish with which I’m very familiar given that I grew up in the land of can of soup casseroles. When I first moved to Texas many years ago, I was asked by a friend about my home state. As soon as I mentioned Illinois, she said ‘oh, that’s where every recipe has a can of soup in it.’ I almost fell over giggling because that was pretty accurate, at that time anyway. For the first Thanksgiving dinner that I prepared myself, I was determined to include a homemade green bean casserole sans cans of soup. I chopped mushrooms and sauteed them, made a bechamel sauce, cooked fresh green beans, and it all worked fine. That first time, I left the crunchy onion component out of the equation, but it was otherwise a fine made-from-scratch rendition. So, when I read this article about Joaquin Baca who created a homemade green bean casserole for his restaurant, I had to try his version.
First, lots of mushrooms were sliced, and half of them were pureed with red onions to form a paste. The other half was sauteed in butter. Once browned, garlic, thyme, and then the mushroom onion paste were added to the sauteed mushrooms. Then, cream and stock were added, and that mixture was set aside. That part of the recipe could be made in advance and refrigerated until needed. Green beans were cooked in boiling water and then shocked in ice water. When drained, they were added to the mushroom mixture with sliced almonds and breadcrumbs. That was then transferred to a baking dish, and I took inspiration from the article for my pan choice. At the restaurant, Baca serves his individual casseroles in small cast iron skillets, so I baked mine in a larger cast iron skillet. It was topped with more breadcrumbs before being placed in the oven. While it baked, I fried some sliced shallots, rather than the suggested pearl onions, to sprinkle on right before serving. My shallots got a little too brown, but they were crispy and delicious just the same.
We both liked this casserole a lot. It’s an inspired way to eat vegetables, that’s for certain. The crunchy sliced almonds are a nice addition that I didn’t include in my green bean casseroles in the past. However, the one thing that Kurt and I both noticed was that the breadcrumbs mixed into the casserole left it grainy when we would have preferred it smoother. The breadcrumbs on top were fine, but next time I would skip adding them to the mixture with the green beans. Other than that, this was an amazing, rich but fresh-tasting casserole that far surpassed anything with a can of soup in it.
So, breakfast tacos, where to begin? For the uninitiated, breakfast tacos are an institution in Austin. They’re easily found at countless restaurants, coffee houses, and food trailers around town. They’re inexpensive and convenient. Everyone has his or her favorite filling. For me, bean, egg, and cheese or potato, egg, and cheese are the best, but I also love a spinach, cherry tomato, egg, and cheese on a whole-grain tortilla. Kurt’s preferences are chorizo, egg, and cheese and bacon, egg, and cheese. They’re usually made with flour tortillas except for that multi-grain option I mentioned which I’ve only seen at one place in town. Also, salsa is served on the side in little cups with lids if the tacos are to go, and I always request an extra cup. With so many options for going out for breakfast tacos surrounding me in this town, I’ve never made my own until now. And, to be honest, these are really just something like breakfast tacos. What we have here is a fancy, worldly relative of the breakfast taco. When I was looking for something different for a weekend breakfast, I found truffled egg tacos in Nuevo Tex-Mex, and I always have fun cooking from that book. That main recipe does require two, not one, black truffles which are sliced over eggs, and the filling is then rolled in blue corn crepes to make fancy-pants tacos. Luckily, since I was fresh out of whole black truffles, variations on this theme are offered. I went with the wild mushroom-egg version and added a little truffle oil to the mushrooms after they were sauteed.
As simple as this dish seems, and as familiar as the concept of the breakfast taco is, I was a little nervous about making it because I’d never before made crepes. Without the crepes, this was just scrambled eggs and mushrooms. I doubled the recipe so I’d have plenty of batter for practicing. The first crepe was, of course, a failure, but then things improved. I made my crepes larger than the five inch diameter suggested, so it was a good thing that I had doubled the batter. Blue cornmeal was combined with milk, eggs, and melted butter and then was left to sit for 30 minutes before using. My bigger crepes cooked for just over one minute on each side. The filling was simply sauteed mushrooms which were drizzled with truffle oil and scrambled eggs. I added some grated monterey jack cheese and chopped garlic chives as well.
I always wish blue cornmeal were really blue instead of grayish-pale blue, but regardless of the color, it made a nice crepe with a sweet nuttiness about it. The tenderness of the crepes made them very easy to fold and turn around the filling. It was a little strange to sit down to a meal of breakfast tacos with fork in hand and the aroma truffle oil in the air, but I could get used to this sophisticated variation.
We’ve arrived at the end of our CSA’s summer season, and the fall season won’t begin until October. Our last pick-up included both summer and winter squash along with sweet potatoes, okra, edamame on the stem, cucumbers, chiles, green bell peppers, basil, and black-eyed peas. The winter squash threw me for a bit of a loop. I wasn’t ready to see that kind of vegetable. I had to think for a while about how I should use it because it’s too soon for a serious, heavy kind of squash dish. I had also just received some camembert from Ile de France, and I decided to put the two together. The winter squash was smallish and round and mostly orange with some green, and I have no idea what variety of squash it was. I cut it in half, removed the seeds, roasted it, then peeled away the skin, and chopped it into chunks. I got inspired by some long, oval flatbreads I saw in one book or another and thought the squash and cheese with some cremini mushrooms sauteed in olive oil with rosemary would make good toppings.
I used my quick, standard pizza dough recipe which starts with one packet of dry yeast mixed with one cup of warm water in a large mixing bowl. To that, three-quarters cup of whole wheat flour and a quarter cup of unbleached, AP flour are added. Once stirred together with a wooden spoon, two tablespoons of olive oil, half a teaspoon of salt, and a few turns-worth of cracked black pepper are added. Then, two more cups or so of AP flour are stirred in until the dough forms a ball. The ball of dough is turned out onto a floured board and kneaded with more flour as needed for about five minutes. It is then placed in a large, oiled bowl, covered with a towel, and left to rise for at least an hour. Once risen, it’s removed from the bowl, kneaded a few times, and left to rest on the board for 20 minutes while the oven pre-heats to 500 F with a baking stone on the bottom rack. The dough was rolled into thin, slipper shapes and topped with the sauteed mushrooms, rosemary, and the remaining oil in the saute pan. The squash chunks were scattered about, and the cheese was applied on top. The flat breads were slid onto the baking stone, one at a time, to bake for seven minutes each.
It was a simple combination of flavors that balanced the squash’s sweetness with the earthy mushrooms and herbal rosemary. The camembert was rich and smooth and couldn’t possibly have done anything wrong. These flatbreads tasted a little like fall but not too much. They were crunchy and fun enough to not be too serious about the winter squash, and camembert was the perfect choice for cheese.
Madhur Jaffrey's World Vegetarian is so great for browsing. When I have a particular vegetable to use, I can always find several possible dishes in it that each have different cultural influences. Last week I was a lucky winner of the Foodie Blogroll bi-weekly giveaway, and I was offered a product from FromTheFarm.com. I chose the hen of the woods, or maitake, mushrooms which were over-nighted in a cooler. I did feel some carbon guilt about receiving that package from Florida, but considering that a lot of my vegetables get trucked in from California, I tried not to dwell on it for too long (and a trip to the farmers’ market the next day made me feel better).
I wanted to use the hen of the woods mushrooms in a vegetarian dish, and Jaffrey’s Israeli couscous sounded perfect. I make several variations of pasta with sauteed vegetables, but for this dish, I followed along with the instructions to try a different approach. Something I make pretty regularly for weeknight meals is broccoli with penne. For that, I blanch broccoli and then saute it with sliced garlic, a lot of extra virgin olive oil, and black pepper. When the penne is added to that, it receives some butter, and it’s served with a snowy cap of shredded parmigiano reggiano. Delicious, yes, but there’s lots of oil and butter. For this couscous dish, Jaffrey suggested sauteing garlic and shallot in some olive oil and then adding the mushrooms and then the chopped asparagus. This cooked briefly before a half cup of stock and a quarter cup of vermouth were added. The saute pan was covered, and it was left for a couple of minutes. Then, almost-fully-cooked couscous was added, it was stirred to combine, and then parmigiano reggiano and parsley were incorporated.
The result was a lighter dish in which the stock and vermouth were absorbed by the pasta pearls. The parts of this simple dish worked together exactly correctly. The vegetables were left crisp tender and fresh tasting, and the flavor of the maitakes was superb. The amount of vermouth used was enough to add another layer of flavor but not enough to leave it boozy. The vermouth and stock together was just the right amount of liquid for the couscous to absorb without making the dish like soup. I added a bit more garlic than what was listed, I usually do that, and combined with the shallot, it was fantastic. This would work nicely with orzo and other vegetable combinations too. Now I have one more delicious, and lighter, way of preparing pasta and vegetables.
Pasta, mushrooms, and cheese is one of my most favorite combinations. Regular criminis, any old pasta, and domestic parmesan would make a very satisfying meal for me, but elevating it by using local, organic shitakes, organic cream, premium pasta, and excellent quality parmigiana reggiano makes me a very, very happy diner. So, this meal had no chance of disappointing, but I’ll go further and suggest that there isn’t a bad pasta dish to be found in the book I was using. I’ve written about it before and I’m sure I will again, because everything I’ve cooked from it has been outstanding. In my opinion, On Top of Spaghetti by Johanne Killeen and George Germon can do no wrong. I’ve never visited Al Forno, but I would consider purchasing a ticket to Providence, RI just for that purpose.
Upon tasting this, Kurt inadvertently performed the climax scene of every food tv show by tilting his head and murmuring mmmmmmmm. But, he meant it. How could he not; it was warm, melty, and richly satisfying. The fennel had cooked down to its mellow, sweet state and served to round out the character of the onion, shallot, and garlic. The mushrooms’ earthiness interplayed with the parmigiana as perfectly as it always does. This certainly didn’t need any additional embellishment, but if my bottle of truffle oil hadn’t been empty a drop or two would have been sublime.