Potato Galette with Mexican Mint Marigold

Back in 1994, our very own Central Market grocery store opened in Austin, and it immediately became the place where I do a big part of my grocery shopping. In 1994, I was a graduate student, and my shopping list included more frozen food and quick-to-cook things than it does now. But, I remember walking into this brand-new store with the produce section that meanders on and on and discovering starfruit and taking it home to taste it for the first time. There was so much to explore and taste, and my grocery store expectations have never been the same since. I thought about that as I read my review copy of The Berkeley Bowl Cookbook: Recipes Inspired by the Extraordinary Produce of California's Most Iconic Market by Laura McLively. The Berkeley Bowl, in Berkeley California, began as a small, family-run produce shop that has evolved into “one of the nation’s most renowned retailers of exotic fruits and vegetables.” All of the produce continues to be selected by the original owner, Glenn Yasuda, who visits sellers and farmers personally to choose what to order for the store. The new book is a tribute to the variety of foods found there and a guide for using lots of the interesting and seasonal produce throughout the year. The recipes aren’t always traditional to the ingredients being highlighted. For instance, Asian greens may be given a Spanish flavor profile or purple cauliflower may find its way into tacos. But, the dishes are all intriguing. The chapters are grouped by type of produce such as Leaves, Spores and Succulents, and Roots and Tubers. The Spring Chickpea Tabbouleh made with raw chickpeas straight from the pod makes me want to grow my own. And, I want to track down some banana blossoms so I can try the Banana Blossom with Glass Noodles and Crispy Garlic that’s served in the sturdy, outer petals of the blossom. I have some locally-grown, purple snake beans that I’m going to use in a Thai curry tonight, but I can’t wait to bring home more of them to use in the Smokey Snake Beans involving tomatoes and a homemade bbq-style sauce with a recommended side of cornbread. I’ve also marked the pages for Sea Bean and Soba Salad, Aloe Vera and Mango Ceviche in which the texture of the aloe mimics that of fish, and Golden Beet Tamales with Red Pepper Sauce. These days I do still bring a lot home from Central Market, but I try to gather most of the produce I use from local farms. In the spring, potatoes and shallots appear, and I had to try the Potato Galette with Tarragon made with a layer of sauteed shallots. In the book, the galette is made with lovely purple potatoes, and I have found locally-grown purple potatoes here in the past. This time, I went with the red potatoes and shallots on offer at Boggy Creek Farm, and I used my home-grown Mexican mint marigold that has a flavor very similar to tarragon. 

The recipe suggested any homemade or store-bought pie dough, and I did a little searching through my books for a good olive oil dough. I decided to try the whole wheat, tahini, and olive oil dough found in A New Way to Bake: Classic Recipes Updated with Better-for-You Ingredients from the Modern Pantry. Olive oil doughs are so easy to make, and this one was very easy to roll out and shape for the galette. For the filling, shallots were thinly sliced and sauteed in olive oil until caramelized. Chopped tarragon, or Mexican mint marigold in my case, was added. I also added some chopped sage from my herb garden. The dough was rolled into a 13-inch circle, and the shallots were spread in the center. Potatoes were thinly sliced on a mandoline and placed on top of the shallots, overlapping slightly. The potatoes were brushed with some olive oil, sprinkled with salt and pepper, and topped with more herbs. The dough was folded over the edges and brushed with an egg wash. The galette baked for about 30 minutes. I crisped some sage leaves in olive oil to add on top of the baked galette. Sour cream is suggested for serving, but I loved the galette just as it was. 

This is a great make-ahead dish since the galette can sit at room temperature and holds up perfectly. You could serve thin slices with cocktails or larger slices as a meal with a salad. It’s the kind of simple dish that really puts the freshness of the ingredients into the spotlight. This book is going to come in handy for cooking with what’s locally grown and some store-bought, new-to-me produce. 

Purple Potato Galette with Tarragon 
Recipe reprinted with publisher’s permission from The Berkeley Bowl Cookbook: Recipes Inspired by the Extraordinary Produce of California's Most Iconic Market. 

Fanned out across a flaky pastry smeared with caramelized shallots, this deep royal purple potato is a showstopper. A sprinkling of fresh tarragon and a dollop of sour cream balance the galette’s richness. Serve for brunch or lunch alongside lightly dressed mixed greens. 

Serves 6 to 8 

2 tablespoons plus 1 teaspoon olive oil 
4 large shallots, peeled and thinly sliced 
1 tablespoon fresh chopped tarragon 
1/2 teaspoon salt 
Freshly ground black pepper 
10 ounces purple potatoes (about 4), unpeeled 
1 9-inch pie dough (homemade or store-bought) 
1 egg, beaten 
Sour cream for serving 

Heat 2 tablespoons of the olive oil in a skillet over low-medium heat. Add the shallots and sauté on low for 20 minutes, or until the shallots are soft and caramelized. Turn off the heat and stir in half of the tarragon, half of the salt, and some pepper. Set aside to cool slightly. Use a mandoline or a sharp knife to cut the potatoes into 1/16-inch-thick slices. Set aside. 

Preheat the oven to 375°F. Use a rolling pin to roll the pie crust thinner and into a 13-inch circle. Line a baking sheet with parchment paper and place the crust on it. Spread the shallots over the pie crust, leaving a border around the edge (about 1 1/2 inches). Starting from the outer edge of the shallots, place the potato slices on top the shallots in overlapping layers, spiraling inward. Use a pastry brush to brush the potatoes with the remaining olive oil and sprinkle the remaining salt. Fold the border of the dough up and over the potatoes, pressing down in loose pleats. 

Brush the exposed dough with the beaten egg and bake for 28 to 32 minutes, until the crust is golden and the potatoes are tender. Sprinkle the remaining tarragon over the galette and serve with dollops of cold sour cream.

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Pureed Plantain Soup with Crispy Shallots

Have you booked a trip to Cuba? Are you intrigued to visit now that it’s become just slightly easier to do so? I’d love to see everything before any major real estate development takes place, but I don’t have a trip planned at this point. In the meantime, I’ve been reading a review copy I received of the new book Cuba!: Recipes and Stories from the Cuban Kitchen. I’m fascinated with the fincas, or farms, where land that’s less than ideal for growing food is being slowly turned into productive areas with traditional, earth-friendly techniques. Soil is being revived with crops that return nutrients to the ground, and only natural fertilizers are used. The stories in the book are based on just a few visits to Cuba by the authors. The recipes cover Cuban basics, snacks, sandwiches, stews, meat dishes, seafood, sweets, and drinks. There are a few that I wasn’t sure are entirely authentic, classic, Cuban dishes like the Caribbean Black Bean Burger and the Mojito Cake. I did love seeing the Jibarito, though, and I can’t wait to make that again soon. I always seem to be drawn to recipes with plantains. This time, the Pureed Plantain Soup got my attention because it’s a texture I’d never tried with plantains. 

I love making pureed soups due to the ease of chopping the vegetables roughly since perfect size and shape doesn’t matter as much. The soup was started by sweating chopped onion and garlic. Green plantains were peeled and chopped into large chunks and added along with chicken stock. The soup simmered for about thirty minutes or so until the plantains were very tender. Then, it was ladled into the blender in batches to be pureed. After pureeing, it was returned to the stock pot to rewarm, and lime juice was added. While the soup was cooking, shallots were thinly sliced, dredged in cornstarch, and slowly fried in olive oil. The real trick to frying shallots is to take plenty of time and fry over low heat. You can watch the slices and decide how dark you want them to brown. When ready, the shallots were drained on a paper towel-lined sheet pan and seasoned with salt. The soup was served with a generous portion of crispy shallots on top. 

There was no warning in the book, but this soup thickens considerably once it cools. It occurred to me that it was actually a bit like polenta. I added water and whisked to combine to reheat it after refrigerating. But, I thought I might make this again and treat it intentionally more like polenta by letting it become thick. The mild flavor of pureed plantain with the onion, garlic, and lime would be great as a backdrop to a mix of spicy seafood. 

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Tender Greens Salad with Crispy Fried Shallots

Picking up a book and taking a trip around the world without even leaving the couch is a lovely thing. That’s what Naomi Duguid’s books offer. They’re always filled with photography of everyday life, beautiful scenery, and inviting food that makes virtual travel all the more real. Her latest is Burma: Rivers of Flavor of which I received a review copy. The fresh, bright flavors of the food with ingredients I already love like chiles, lime, and shallots drew me in quickly, and with every turn of a page, there’s another dish I want to try. Duguid recently taught a class at Central Market Cooking School, and I attended with a media pass. She spoke about her visits to Burma, now officially called Myanmar, over the years and the style of eating she was introduced to there. She mentioned the rice meals that are accompanied by several condiments, vegetables, and salads and explained that when she ordered one or two things at a restaurant, she’d be served eight or nine items instead. Every dish of curry was served with rice, sauces, fresh and blanched vegetables, and side dishes. And, that’s the style of meal she prepared for the class. The food isn’t always necessarily spicy, but with the various condiments that typically accompany a meal, you can tailor each dish to suit your personal taste.

Burma shares borders with India, China, Laos, and Thailand as well as having a long coastline, and the food has similarities with that of its neighbors. Although, I thought it was interesting that coconuts don’t grow well in most of Burma, so coconut milk isn’t a very common ingredient. Chiles fresh and dried, chile powders, shrimp powder and paste, toasted chickpea flour, roasted peanuts, fermented soybean paste, shallot and garlic oil, peanut and sesame oil, and turmeric are some of the basics of a Burmese pantry.

During the class, we were served a tray of some fresh and some blanched vegetables with a Tomato Chutney made with tamarind pulp, dried chiles, fresh chiles, cilantro, and shrimp paste. It was a tangy, spicy, savory sauce to return to throughout the meal. The next dish was one of the simplest and most intriguing soups I’ve seen. A Silky Shan Soup was made by whisking chickpea flour, salt, and water in a bowl. More water was brought to a boil, and the chickpea flour mixture was slowly stirred into the boiling water. That was the soup. It was cooked until smooth and thick. The soup was served over rice noodles with several garnishes like chile oil, chopped roasted peanuts, shallot oil, palm sugar water which adds more of a smoky flavor than sweetness, and blanched pea tendrils. You can also make the soup as described and then pour it into a shallow pan and chill it. It will set up into a consistency like tofu, and that is sliced and used in salads. Other dishes included a roasted eggplant dish made sweeter with the addition of an egg; a chicken curry in which the chicken pieces had been marinated with a flavor paste of ginger, garlic, turmeric, and mild red chiles; and a salad made with blanched spinach that tasted so fresh and zippy I couldn’t wait to go home and make it myself. All of those dishes were served with rice, and the idea of the meal is to move about the plate and experience the different kinds of tastes. Nothing was too spicy, but taking a bite of a vegetable dipped into the tomato chutney delivered a kick. The chicken and eggplant were mild, and the salad dressed with lime had such big, bright flavors.

After the class, I set about creating my Burmese pantry. I fried shallots and saved the shallot oil, and then fried garlic. I toasted chickpea flour which is sometimes a main ingredient and sometimes more of a seasoning. I bought dried shrimp and ground it in a food processor to make shrimp powder. And, then I made that fantastic Tender Greens Salad at home. Some spinach was blanched, drained, and squeezed of excess water, and then it was tossed with fried shallots and garlic, dried shrimp powder, chopped roasted peanuts, toasted chickpea flour, shallot oil, lime juice, fresh shallot slices, and fish sauce. I’m looking forward to mixing those flavors in other dishes like a beautiful Chicken Salad Burma Style, Chickpea Soup with Lemongrass and Ginger, Golden Egg Curry, Kachin Salsa, Shrimp Curry, and Fried Rice with Shallots. It’s been a pleasure to get to know Burma from this book, and the food has been every bit as delicious as it looks on the page.

Tender Greens Salad with Crispy Fried Shallots
Recipe reprinted with publisher’s permission. Excerpted from Burma: Rivers of Flavor by Naomi Duguid (Artisan Books). Copyright 2012.

Serves 4 to 6

I learned this central Burmese version of the Shan dish Chinese Kale with Pork Cracklings from a friend in Rangoon. It’s very quick to make if you’ve got your pantry basics on hand, and it’s an easy and flexible dish to turn to when you have plenty of greens around. Start with any tender greens, briefly boil them to soften, and then chop and dress them. This dressing also works well for uncooked greens such as watercress or lettuce leaves (omit the fried garlic and reduce the dried shrimp powder slightly).

About 1 pound tender greens, such as Taiwan bok choi, baby bok choi, pea tendrils, spinach, or pumpkin or cucumber vine tendrils, trimmed of tough stems and well washed
2 tablespoons thinly sliced shallots, soaked in water for 10 minutes and drained
2 tablespoons Fried Garlic, or a mix of Fried Garlic and Fried Shallots
2 to 3 tablespoons Dried Shrimp Powder
2 tablespoons Chopped Roasted Peanuts
1 to 2 tablespoons Toasted Chickpea Flour
1 tablespoon Shallot Oil, or more to taste
2 tablespoons fresh lime juice, or to taste
1 tablespoon fish sauce, or 1 teaspoon salt, or to taste
About 2 tablespoons Fried Shallots

Bring a large pot of water to a rolling boil. Toss in the greens and boil until just tender; timing will vary with the greens, but it should take no more than 5 minutes, and in many cases (spinach, for example) much less than that. Drain the greens and press out the excess water.

When the greens are cool enough to handle, cut them into approximately 1 1/2-inch lengths and place in a wide shallow bowl. (You should have about 3 cups.)

Add the sliced shallots and the fried garlic or fried garlic–fried shallot mixture, and toss a little. Add the dried shrimp powder, peanuts, and toasted chickpea flour and toss. Add the shallot oil and lime juice and mix well with your hands, kneading the dressing lightly but firmly into the greens. Add the fish sauce or salt, as you wish, and mix well.

Mound the salad on a plate, top with the fried shallots, and serve.

Fried Shallots and Shallot Oil
Makes a generous 3/4 cup flavored oil and about 1 1/4 cups fried shallots

Here you get two pantry staples in one: crispy fried shallots and delicious shallot oil. Drizzle shallot oil on salads or freshly cooked greens, or onto soups to finish them. You can fry up shallots each time you need them, but I prefer to make a large batch so they’re around when I need a handful to flavor a salad. The trick with fried shallots is to cook them slowly, so they give off their moisture and get an even golden brown without any scorched or blackened patches. Once they’re removed from the oil and left to cool, they crisp up.

1 cup peanut oil
2 cups (about 1/2 pound) thinly sliced Asian or European shallots

Place a wide heavy skillet or a large stable wok over medium-high heat and add the oil. Toss in a slice of shallot. As the oil heats, it will rise to the surface, sizzling lightly.

When it’s reached the surface, add the rest of the shallots, carefully, so you don’t splash yourself with the oil, and lower the heat to medium. (The shallots may seem crowded, but they’ll shrink as they cook.) Stir gently and frequently with a long-handled wooden spoon or a spider. The shallots will bubble as they give off their moisture. If they start to brown early, in the first 5 minutes, lower the heat a little more. After about 10 minutes, they should start to color. Continue to cook, stirring occasionally to prevent them from sticking to the pan or to each other, until they have turned a golden brown, another 3 minutes or so.

Line a plate with paper towels. Use tongs or a spider to lift a clump of fried shallots out of the oil, pausing for a moment to shake off excess oil into the pan, then place on the paper towel. Turn off the heat, transfer the remaining shallots to the plate, and blot gently with another paper towel. Separate any clumps and toss them a little, then let them air-dry 5 to 10 minutes, so they crisp up and cool. (If your kitchen is very hot and humid, they may not crisp up; don’t worry, the flavor will still be there.)

Transfer the shallots to a clean, dry, widemouthed glass jar. Once they have cooled completely, seal tightly.

Transfer the oil to another clean dry jar, using all but the very last of it, which will have some stray pieces of shallot debris. (You can set that oil aside for stir-frying.) Once the oil has cooled completely, cover tightly and store in a cool dark place.

Fried Garlic and Garlic Oil
Makes about 1/4 cup fried garlic and 1/3 cup garlic oil You can use a similar technique to make garlic oil, but slice the garlic thicker (a scant 1/4 inch), rather than into thin slices, since it cooks much more quickly than shallots. Heat 1/2 cup peanut oil over medium-high heat, add 1/3 cup or so sliced garlic, and fry over medium heat until just golden, about 5 minutes. Lift out the garlic and set aside to crisp up. Store the oil as above. Fried garlic does not keep as well as fried shallots; refrigerate and use within 5 days.

Dried Shrimp Powder
Makes about 1 1/2 loosely packed cups

Dried shrimp are an important source of flavor as well as protein through most of Southeast Asia. In Burma they are often used powdered. The soft powder gives a subtle depth of flavor and also thickens sauces. Look for largish dried shrimp, more than 1/2 inch long if possible, and the darker-colored (more red than pale pink or beige), the better. Try to get shrimp that are a little soft rather than completely hard. The easiest way to grind them is in a food processor (traditionally, they are pounded in a mortar).

1 cup or more good-quality dried shrimp (see the headnote)

Place the shrimp in a bowl with water to just cover and set aside to soak for 10 minutes (20 minutes if the shrimp are very hard and dry). Drain and pat dry.

Transfer to a food processor and process until reduced to a slightly uneven, fluffy powder, from 1 to 3 minutes, depending on the toughness of the shrimp. Pause and wipe down the sides of the bowl occasionally if necessary. Store in a glass jar.

Chopped Roasted Peanuts
Makes a scant 1 cup These are handy to have when you are making Burmese salads, so it’s worth making a cupful or more at a time and storing them in a jar. Buy raw peanuts (in their papery skins or not, it doesn’t matter)—you’ll find them in Asian groceries and health food stores.

1 cup raw peanuts, with or without their papery skins

Place a cast-iron or other heavy skillet over medium heat, add the peanuts, and cook, stirring them frequently with a wooden spoon or spatula to prevent burning. Adjust the heat if necessary so they toast and change color gradually, in patches; as they heat up, the skins, if still on, will separate from the peanuts. When they have firmed up a little and are dotted with color, remove from the heat, but keep stirring for another minute or so.

If using skin-on nuts, carry the skillet over to a sink or a garbage can and blow over it gently to blow away the loose skins. Rub the nuts between your palms to loosen the remaining skins and blow again; don’t worry if there are still some skins on your peanuts. Pick out and discard any nuts that are scorched and blackened.

Transfer the nuts to a wide bowl and set aside for 10 minutes or more to cool and firm up.

Once the peanuts are cool, place them in a food processor and process in short, sharp pulses, stopping after three or four pulses, before the nuts are too finely ground. You want a mix of coarsely chopped nuts and some fine powder. Alternatively, place the nuts in a large stone or terra-cotta mortar and pound with the pestle to crush them into smaller pieces. Use a spoon to move the nuts around occasionally; you don’t want to pound them into a paste, just to break them into small chips.

Transfer the chopped nuts to a clean, dry jar; do not seal until they have cooled completely. Store in the refrigerator.

Toasted Chickpea Flour
Makes 2 cups

For this distinctively Burmese pantry staple, which is very easy to make and store, chickpea flour is simply lightly toasted in a skillet. Chickpea flour is made from ground dried chickpeas (garbanzos) and contains no gluten (see the Glossary for more). The flour is available in South Asian groceries (the common name for it in India is besan), some health food stores, and specialty stores. Keep it in a well-sealed bag in a cool place, as you would any flour.

Make this in any quantity you wish; I usually make 2 cups at a time. Use in salads to add a layer of flavor and texture, and also to thicken sauces and soups, as directed.

2 cups chickpea flour

Place a cast-iron or other heavy skillet over medium-high heat, add the flour, and use a wooden spoon to stir it frequently as it heats and starts to toast. Lower the heat to medium if it starts to brown quickly, and keep stirring to expose all the flour to the heat. After about 6 or 7 minutes, it will start to change color. Lower the heat a little and continue to stir as it gets a little more color, then remove from the heat and continue to stir for another minute as the pan starts to cool. The whole process takes about 10 to 12 minutes.

Transfer to a wide bowl and let cool to room temperature. Store in a clean, dry glass jar, well sealed.

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Braised Chickpeas with Spinach, Haloumi, Crispy Shallots, and Mojo Verde

The last time I browsed the newsstand in a book store, I was hoping to find something new to me. Tucked back behind Bon Appetit and to the side of Donna Hay I found Cuisine, a publication from New Zealand which I’d never read. It takes a little longer to appear on the racks in the States, which is why the issue I bought is from September. It’s full of incredible photography, a lot of wine info, and many, many recipes I want to try. There was an article about informal entertaining and dishes that can be easily eaten with just a fork, and that’s where I came upon these braised chickpeas. First, I saw the photo with the crispy onions on top of browned haloumi in a bowl of chickpeas, and then I flipped the page and read about the mojo verde that adorns it all. That was it. I had to make this dish.

I used dried chickpeas which I soaked overnight before cooking, but rinsed and drained canned chickpeas would also work. While the chickpeas cooked, I mixed together the mojo verde in a food processor and fried some thinly sliced shallots since they could sit while the rest of the dish was prepared. I decided to use shallots for the crispy topping, but onions were used in the original recipe. To begin the braise, finely chopped onion, garlic, broken pieces of dried red chiles, and ground cumin were sauteed in olive oil. Tomato paste was stirred into that mix before the cooked chickpeas and some of their cooking liquid was added. That was left to simmer until the liquid had almost disappeared, and then I added a mix of fresh greens that I found at the farmers’ market. There were spinach leaves and mizuna and a few small kale leaves which were washed, stemmed, and torn into pieces. While the greens wilted their way into the chickpeas, the haloumi was quickly pan-fried in olive oil.

The chickpeas were full of flavor from the onion, garlic, and dried chiles and those flavors wound into the greens as well. Haloumi can’t help but be delicious. The same goes for crispy shallots, and the mojo verde with cilantro and sherry vinegar was a touch of herby acidity in the dish. This could make a very good, little starter stacked nicely with the frizzy shallots on top, but I’m glad I served this as a main course because I would have wanted more than just a small plate of it.

The recipe is not available on Cuisine’s web site, so I’ll include it here.

Braised Chickpeas with Spinach, Haloumi, Crispy Shallots, and Mojo Verde
Chickpeas:
1 1/2 cups dried chickpeas, soaked overnight (or two cans of chickpeas, rinsed and drained)
2 tablespoons olive oil, plus extra for frying haloumi
1/2 yellow onion, finely chopped
4 cloves garlic, finely chopped plus 2 cloves garlic smashed
3 small dried chiles such as chile de arbol, crumbled
2 teaspoons ground cumin
2 tablespoons tomato paste
4 big handfuls spinach leaves or small leaves of other greens, washed, drained, stemmed, and chopped or pulled into pieces
1 package haloumi, cut into ¼ inch slices
Salt and pepper to taste

-Drain the soaked chickpeas and place in a large saucepan with water to cover by two inches. Add the smashed garlic cloves and one crumbled chile. Bring to a boil and simmer until chickpeas are tender, about one to two hours. When cooked, reserve the cooking liquid.
-While the chickpeas are cooking, prepare the mojo verde and fry the sliced shallots as described below.
-In a large saucepan, heat two tablespoons olive oil and fry the onion until soft. Add garlic, crumbled chiles, and cumin and fry for an additional minute. Stir in the tomato paste. Add the cooked, drained chickpeas and two cups of the reserved cooking liquid. If using canned chickpeas, add two cups water. Season with salt and pepper and simmer until most of the liquid has evaporated.
-Add the spinach and/or greens and stir to combine. Check seasoning and adjust as needed.
-As the greens wilt into the chickpeas, fry the haloumi slices in olive oil until golden on each side, about one minute per side.
-Serve the braised chickpeas and greens with a few slices of haloumi on top. Drizzle haloumi and chickpeas with mojo verde, and top with crispy shallots.

Mojo Verde:
3 cloves garlic
1 teaspoon cumin seeds, toasted and ground
1 teaspoon sea salt
1/2 cup tightly packed cilantro leaves
2 tablespoons sherry vinegar
4 tablespoons olive oil
-Place garlic, cumin, and sea salt in a mini food processor and process until smooth. Add the cilantro, vinegar, and olive oil. Process again until smooth and emulsified.

Crispy Shallots:
2 large or 4 small shallots, skinned and thinly sliced
1/4 cup olive oil
- Place oil and sliced shallots in a small frying pan and slowly bring up to bubbling. Continue cooking until the shallots are golden, about 10 minutes. Remove shallots and drain on paper towels.


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Chive, Mascarpone, and Pine Nut Dip

In the middle of a cookie baking frenzy, I needed to think of something in the appetizer category to take to a holiday party. I had some mascarpone in the refrigerator that I bought for another purpose and ended up not using, so my search started with that ingredient. I found this dip on Epicurious and was won over by the swirl of chive oil in it. I had high hopes that the bright green oil would make a festive-looking dip, and it sounded delicious. The chive oil was actually folded into what was a rather thick dip instead of simply being drizzled and swirled as I imagine. The marbled look I had in my mind's eye didn't really come to fruition, but I got over that as soon as I tasted the dip.

First, chopped chives were pureed in olive oil with a pinch of salt. That puree was left to sit in the refrigerator for an hour before it was poured through a sieve to remove the chive solids. Then, pine nuts were toasted in the oven while crostini crisped. The pine nuts were chopped once cool. Mascarpone and cream cheese were to be whisked together, but given the thickness of that mixture, I opted to use a hand mixer instead of a whisk. I changed the recipe by adding a minced shallot to boost the onion flavor, and that was incorporated into the mascarpone mixture. Next, the chopped pine nuts were added. Last the chive oil was poured over top and not too thoroughly folded into the dip so that splotches of green were visible.

This was well-liked at the party, even Kurt let me know that it was really good, but sadly, I only had a small taste of it. That's why I'm already planning on making it again just for us to enjoy at home. The flavor of the chive oil is lovely, but I was glad I added the shallot as well. I'll definitely repeat that addition when I whip up another bowl of it.




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Green Bean Casserole

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.




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Pasta Primavera

After our CSA pick-up and a trip to the farmers’ market, we had a bounty of colorful vegetables which reminded me of a light and spring-like pasta primavera I ordered at an Italian restaurant in Scottsdale last year. I could still imagine the taste of the fresh and pretty green beans and zucchini in a simple, brothy sauce with shallots. So, with that in mind, I started flipping through books just to see if any specifics in various pasta primaveras could add inspiration. There’s a classic recipe by Craig Claibrone, but it includes a fair amount of butter, some cream, and a few steps of blanching, draining, and whathaveyou. I was aiming for something simpler with more of a wine and shallot sauce.

Next, I turned to The Martha Stewart Cookbook, and there I found a recipe that actually made me giggle. Martha is so great, she really is, but this particular recipe required a few ingredients that weren’t just suggestions or options. They were less than completely common things, but they seemed to be required. The list included red currant vinegar (or other fruit vinegar), pimiento oil (with a suggestion to make your own if you don’t find it at a gourmet shop), and purple basil. Why red currant vinegar? Now, I do love hunting down out-of-the-ordinary ingredients, and I’m willing to place online orders for things like fennel pollen. But, usually when such ingredients are suggested, there’s a note about what easier-to-find, common items could be substituted or a note about why the specific ingredient is used. Here, there was no explanation for why this specific vinegar was necessary or that any fresh basil would be fine. That struck me as funny given that the book was published 14 years ago when those things would have been even more difficult to locate. It just so happens that I have a purple basil plant, and I would have been willing to make some pimiento oil and shop for red currant vinegar, but this was ultimately a pasta salad and not exactly what I wanted to make. Just for fun, I looked at Whole Foods, and they had no red currant vinegar. Raspberry was the only fruit vinegar.

With nothing but a memory of a sauce with shallots, I left the books behind and whipped up my own version of a pasta primavera. I realize that the vegetables I used here are just as specific as that vinegar and basil, but I’ll explain that substitutions are fine. I had red and yellow carrots, red and yellow small, pear-shaped tomatoes, zucchini and summer squash, and green beans. Any carrots and any tomatoes will be delicious. I had overheard a farmer telling a customer that the red carrots were best when roasted, so I thought of roasting everything. By starting with the carrots and adding other vegetables in increments during the roasting time, each would spend the appropriate amount of time in the oven. That seemed simpler than several separate steps for blanching and sauteeing. I did blanch the green beans because I thought they would be crisper that way, but they could have been roasted too. For a sauce, I sauteed shallots and garlic, added wine which was reduced, finished with a little butter and lemon, and combined that with the vegetables and some linguine. Shards of parmigiano reggiano, some lemon zest, and yes, my purple basil completed the dish. It wasn’t exactly what I remembered from the restaurant last year, but it was its own lovely kind of thing. The shallot, wine, and lemon sauce provided just the flavor I wanted for this, and the vegetables couldn’t have been better. Next time, I’ll most likely find different vegetables or they’ll taste a little different or I’ll add mushrooms or forget the squash or use penne instead of linguine. This dish is never the same thing twice, but it’s always a great mix of fresh ingredients.


My Version of Pasta Primavera as I Made It This Time

1 medium zucchini, chopped into large chunks
1 medium yellow summer squash, chopped into large chunks
4 red carrots, scrubbed and hairy root fibers removed but not peeled because only the outer layer is red and if you peel them they’ll be orange, chopped
4 yellow carrots, peeled and chopped
1 c small, yellow pear tomatoes, halved
1 c red, grape tomatoes, halved
2 c green beans, cleaned and stems removed, cut into one-inch pieces
1 lb. linguine
3 T olive oil
2 shallots, finely diced
2 cloves garlic, minced
Juice and zest of one lemon
1 c dry, white wine
2 T cold butter, cut into eight or so pieces
3 T fresh, flat leaf parsley, chopped or curly parsley or leave it out if you don’t have it on hand
Fresh basil, chopped or cut into chiffonade, and do use purple basil if you have it
Parmigiano reggiano
Olive oil for roasting vegetables
Salt and pepper to taste


-pre-heat oven to 425 degrees F; place chopped carrots on a baking sheet, drizzle with olive oil and season with salt and pepper; toss to coat with olive oil; place in oven and roast for 10 minutes
-in a mixing bowl, toss zucchini and squash chunks with olive oil, salt, and pepper; remove baking sheet from oven; using a spatula, slice carrots to side of sheet while turning them; add zucchini and squash to baking sheet keeping in mind that the sheet is hot; return baking sheet to oven and roast for 10 minutes more
-in same mixing bowl, toss tomatoes with olive oil, salt, and pepper; remove baking sheet from oven; using spatula, make room for tomatoes while turning carrots, zucchini, and squash, add tomatoes to sheet; return baking sheet to oven and roast for 10 minutes more
-meanwhile, bring a large pot of salted water to a boil; also bring a small saucepan of salted water to a boil; in small saucepan, boil green beans for five minutes and then shock them in cold water and drain
-in a medium saute pan, heat three tablespoons olive oil over medium-high heat; add shallots and saute for three minutes; add garlic and saute until shallots are translucent; pour in one cup of wine and simmer until wine is reduced by half; whisk in one piece of butter at a time, whisking until butter is melted and incorporated before adding next piece; once all butter is incorporated into sauce, season to taste with salt and pepper, remove from heat and whisk in lemon juice
-cook pasta according to package instructions while preparing sauce
-in a large mixing bowl, could be the same one used for tossing vegetables with oil, combine roasted vegetables, drained green beans, cooked and drained pasta, shallot wine lemon sauce, lemon zest, parsley, and most but not all of the basil; taste for seasoning and add salt and pepper as needed
-serve with shards of parmigiano reggiano and sprinkle remaining basil lovingly over top of each serving

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Roasted Potato Leek Soup

I caught a little bit of Barefoot Contessa on the Foodnetwork the other day, and I saw her making this soup. This was just a potato leek soup, but when I watch her show, I get completely drawn in to whatever she’s making. It doesn’t matter if it’s something I don’t even eat, like beef tenderloin, I still become mesmerized. I’ll start thinking of how Kurt would like that, or I can make this when we have some friends over for dinner. Whatever Ina’s cooking, it always looks good, and I always want to run and cook it too. Potato leek soup is pretty straightforward, and I’ve made it many times, but Ina turned this version of it into something special. Instead of boiling the vegetables in the broth and then pureeing the soup, the vegetables were roasted in the oven.

Potatoes and leeks were chopped, tossed with olive oil and salt and pepper and roasted until tender. Then, arugula was added to the pan and roasted until wilted. I cleared the end-of-season arugula from my garden last weekend and used the last small, upper leaves for this. The roasted vegetables were then placed on top of the stove, and wine and chicken stock were added. That combination was then pureed in a food processor, in batches, with additional chicken stock. Once pureed, it was returned to a pot on the stove, more stock was added to achieve whatever consistency you might prefer, and then the recipe started getting rich. An eight ounce container of creme fraiche was stirred into the soup along with some grated parmigiano, and three quarters of a cup of cream was suggested. Now, I do love Ina and I’m no prude when it comes to cream and butter, but I just couldn’t do it after the creme fraiche. I used two percent milk instead. Trust me when I say it didn’t weaken this soup. First you can control the thickness during the pureeing and adding of chicken stock, so I already had a nicely thick soup. And, the richness was definitely not lacking because of my milk substitution. Last, a little more wine was added and the seasoning was adjusted.

The soup was served with crispy shallots on top and some parmesan cheese bread on the side. It was incredible. It had great flavor from the roasting, and the arugula added a little pepperiness and fresh, green flecks. The dairy richness and salty bite of the cheese were exactly right with the vegetables. Just watching it being made on television convinced me it would probably be good, but I had no idea. I wanted to curl up and take a nap in this soup. Dare I say, this may very well be the mac and cheese of soup. It is comfort food as it should be, and you can use the cream if you want, but it really didn’t even need it.

I'm submitting this to the May PhD.
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