Monday, March 16, 2009

a family classic

lately, i've had the persistent
urge
to make cookies.
not to eat them,
just to make them.

it started weeks ago,
when i was visiting my
family and felt
like i should show
up with something
other than,
well, us.

but i didn't.

then, a week later,
i was unexpectedly
seeing them again,
and more determined
this time.

so i looked over
cookbook
after cookbook
and picked several
potential recipes,
but none felt right.
none called out to me,
made me feel i
knew exactly what i was
getting into,
or that they would
possibly be the cookie
my not-yet-born
grandchildren
of my not-yet-born
children
will ask for when
they come to visit.

yes, i take recipe
choosing very seriously.

so again, i didn't
make any.

then this weekend,
in spite of the fact that
we had nowhere to
go and nobody to
entertain or to bestow
a gift upon, i finally
made cookies.

the winning recipe,
it turns out,
was not from any of
my cookbooks - although
in fairness to my cookbooks,
i didn't make my way through
all of them, so there could still
be a spectacular
sweet something hiding
out on those shelves -
but from the january
issue of gourmet.

the chewy amaretti sandwich cookies
just looked so delicate
and crackly
and pretty.
i was up for a challenge,
but these only had three
ingredients -
almond paste,
sugar
egg whites -
and i realized immediately,
i didn't need a challenge.

please don't panic.
i'm pretty sure that i may
have lost half of you
at the mention of
almond paste -
my best friend included -
but it is almond paste,
not marzipan.

oh, marzipan -
gives a
bad name to all things
almond.
you often see it
rolled into little colorful
fruits or other shapes
and used to garnish
cakes or tarts.
in order to make the
mixture so moldable,
they add a ton of sugar.
the flavor and grainy texture
is a turnoff
to most people.
almond paste, though,
is really
designed to be
edible and has a
much smaller sugar
content, so that
the almond flavor
can really shine.

anyway, back to
my grandchildren's
favorite cookie.
they couldn't be
easier to make:
you simply toss
all of the ingredients
into the food processor,
pulse until smooth
and transfer to
a piping bag.
it's a lot easier to fill the pastry bag if you place it, once you've cut the end and inserted the tip, upside down inside a cup.
they bake
until they're golden
brown and cracked,
and your kitchen
smells of a corner
bakery.

but, then,
it does get a little
complicated.
let me rephrase.
it gets complicated if:
you're uncoordinated
(like me),
are without assistance
(like i was)
or find out that you
have an abnormally
large sink
(like i apparently do).
otherwise, you'll
be fine.

you see, what happens
next is that you take
the hot pans,
with the baked
cookies still on them,
and rest the metal on an
angle in your sink.
then,
you lift the corner
of parchment paper,
upon which,
the cookies have been
resting,
and you pour water
in between.
i'm sure pictures
of me trying to
do this
would be
priceless.

somehow, i got
my act together with only
two casualties (it was
quick - they didn't know
what hit 'em).
for the rest of the batch,
the water did its trick,
slightly steaming
their bottoms
and making
them sticky.
this helped later,
when they were cool,
pulled off the
parchment and
sandwiched
together.

one final note,
i made them waaaay
too big.
they're meant to be piped
into 3/4-inch rounds,
which is quite small.
i would have bet you
a nickle mine were
the right size
(ok, maybe 7/8-inch),
but when i ran out
of batter early,
i pulled out a ruler
and learned
that my dollops
ranged from 1 to 1 1/2
inches.
oh, and did i mention,
they spread?
eek.

no matter,
really. they still baked
in the required time
and were
really yummy
and
very special.
but next time -
because there
will absolutely
be a next time -
i will try my darnedest
to make them the
mini,
delicate,
pop-in-your-mouth
and savor
spheres
i believe
they are meant to be.

this way,
they're sized for
kids,
creatively gourmet
for adults,
easy enough
for you
to whip up
and bake -
and the perfect
family cookie,
now, or...
whenever.

chewy amaretti sandwich cookies
from gourmet magazine
while most recipes, including this one, have the best results when prepared with room temperature eggs, they are much easier to separate cold. so i always separate straight from the fridge and then let them come up to temp on their own. by the time i found the hard-copy of the recipe, located my piping bags, preheated the oven and drank the rest of my sunday morning coffee, the whites were ready. this recipe calls for two whites, but who knows, your next recipe could call for two yolks - simply store in the fridge for a few days or keep for a couple months in the freezer.

1 tube (7 oz.) pure almond paste (3/4 cup)
1 cup sugar
2 large egg whites, at room temperature for 30 minutes

arrange racks in upper and lower thirds of oven. heat oven to 300˚F. line two rimmed baking sheets with parchment paper.

in food processor, pulse almond paste and sugar until broken up and combined. add egg whites and pulse until smooth. transfer mixture to a piping bag fitted with a 3/8" plain tip. pipe 3/4" rounds, 3/4" apart on baking sheets. bake 15-18 minutes, rotating pans from top to bottom and front to back midway through, or until tops are puffed and golden brown.

wearing an oven mitt, rest pan at an angle in the sink. gently lift one corner of parchment paper and slowly pour 1/4 cup water between paper and pan so that all of the paper is moistened. let cookies cool completely on cooling rack. sandwich pairs of cookies together. let cookies dry at least 20 minutes before eating.

store in airtight container for up to 24 hours or freeze for up to 1 month.

Saturday, March 14, 2009

the perfect compromise

i'm sure it's not easy to live 
with me. i mean of course,
i'm lovely to live to with,
(right, lar?), but 
i'm probably
not always the most
fun person
to prepare
your dinner.

i don't eat red meat,
or most things associated with it,
i'm not wild about chicken
or turkey
and although
i love fish and seafood,
i can often go weeks
without making
them for dinner 
and not even realize it.

so sometimes,
i make meals more 
substantial
by adding an egg,
and other times,
i have to get creative.

larry loves italian --
i like it. 
but it wouldn't
be my first
choice
of cuisine
(or my second)
when deciding
where to dine
for the night.

so, years ago,
to bridge the italian, 
non-meat-eating
gap,
i started making this
tofu parm.

now, the thing about
tofu is that it has its devout
lovers, 
and just as determined,
haters.
i fall in the first group,
but let me tell you,
even i would want to 
spend too many meals 
eating plain pieces of
cold tofu.
they taste, mostly, like...
nothing.
so do yourself a favor 
and flavor it up. 
marinate it,
broil it,
pan-fry it.
look at it as a 
vehicle
for
sauces and seasonings.

here,
the slices are coated using
the standard breading
procedure:
flour,
egg,
then, breadcrumbs.
you really want to spice
both dry components
well, to ensure that they
do their part.
salt, pepper,
cayenne,
oregano and 
grated parm do wonders.

while, fresh toasted breadcrumbs,
are the tastiest,
i've used panko
(like in this case),
and in a pinch, italian dried breadcrumbs.
yes, i know it's a travesty. 
and, yes, i know that my
can and i could be shunned from
the culinary community just for
the admission, 
but the uncouth crumbs
do wonders for tofu.

(i'm sure the tofu would
be amazing pan-fried,
but i've always baked the
pieces. 
it's less messy 
and
feels like a less-guilty
alternative -
you'll be happy later
when it comes time 
to add the cheese.)

while the tofu
is working so hard 
to make itself
delicious, i try to give it
a hand by simmering together
a quick marinara and grating
mozzarella. 
the great thing though,
is that this recipe can be what you
make it. if you're short on time,
layer the mixture with a jar
of the best sauce you can
find and sprinkle with 
pre-shredded cheese.
and don't feel guilty.  

regardless,
the casserole makes your
house smell like
the best of italian restaurants. 
and when you pull the dish from
the oven,
hot, browned and bubbling,
it's only natural to feel
a growing impatience
that has built in anticipation - 
having to wait to take
your first bite
can be
exhausting.

i will not
go far as to
lie and say
that you will
think you're noshing
on chicken
or 
veal,
but i do think it's
fair to say
that after a couple bites, 
you won't care.
tofu parmigiana
the trick for making tofu taste good, is to drain and blot out as much of the water as possible, which in turn, helps the pieces absorb as much flavoring as possible. to do: drain tofu from container. blot with a couple paper towels. cut into desired pieces. place each piece on a paper towel; top with another paper towel and press. repeat several times and let sit while you prepare other things (get the sauce, started, set up the breading station, preheat the oven, etc.).

also, with the exception of the egg (because i finally learned my lesson - one just isn't enough), i never measure the ingredients for the breading. it dirties other dishes and is always a bit hard to predict, so i eyeball it. it's never steered me wrong.

one last thing, i usually make the parm in a 8x8 pan, but in this case i used gratin dishes. either way it makes enough for about three people, four if you're not very hungry or offer bread, pasta and salad as well. these little dishes (you would need three) are an easier, prettier way to serve, but if you're dining with family and are not concerned with appearences, save yourself the prep time - make it in one dish. and if you're feeding six, you can easily double the recipe.

1 pkg. (16 oz.) firm tofu, drained
flour
2 eggs, beaten with a few drops of water 
fresh bread crumbs or panko
salt, pepper, cayenne pepper,
oregano and grated parm
1 ball (8 oz.) part-skim mozzarella
2 oz. parm (give or take)
about 2 1/2 cups marinara sauce (recipe below)

using sharp knife, carefully cut tofu horizontaly into six slices; halve slices to get 12 rectangular pieces. drain as directed above. place flour in one bowl; add salt, pepper and cayenne pepper (just a dash). place eggs in a second bowl. place breadcrumbs in a third bowl; stir in salt, pepper, cayenne pepper (just a dash), oregano and a healthy handful of grated parm. 

heat oven to 350 F. coat foil-lined baking sheet with cooking spray.

using left hand, place one piece tofu in flour; shake off excess. using right hand, dip in egg, making sure to cover and shake off excess. place in bowl of breadcrumbs; make sure the piece is coated and using left hand transfer to baking sheet. repeat with remaining pieces of tofu. spray with cooking spray. bake tofu 20 minutes; turn pieces and bake 20 minutes more until golden brown. 

meanwhile, grate both cheeses.

to assemble: spread about 3/4 cups sauce in bottom of an 8x8 dish (or 1/4 cup in bottom of each gratin dish). top with half the tofu pieces (or two in each gratin dish). top with 3/4 cup marinara sauce, half the grated mozzarrella, half the grated parm and sprinkle with oregano. place remaining tofu pieces on top, in the opposite direction of the first. top with remaining marinaria, remaining mozzarella, remaining parm and oregano. coat a piece (or pieces) of aluminum foil with cooking spray. firmly cover dish. place on baking sheet. bake 25 minutes (20 for smaller dishes); uncover. bake 5 minutes more. turn oven to broil and cook 2 minutes, or until cheese bubbles and begins to brown in spots.

quick marinara
this may seem like a lot of ingredients for something quick, but most of them are already in your cabinet and the amounts can be adjusted (or the ingredients omitted) depending upon what you have. you probably will not use all the sauce for the tofu parm. the rest can be frozen.

1 tbs. olive oil
1 tsp. dried oregano
1/4 tsp. red peper flakes
1 medium onion, peeled and diced
3 cloves garlic, peeled and diced
1/4 cup white wine (optional)
1 can (28-32 oz.) cherry or plum tomatoes
1 can (6 oz.) tomato puree
2 Tbs. grated parm

in saucepot, over medium-high, warm oil with oregano and red pepper flakes. add onions and garlic and cook 6-8 minutes, or until softened and starting to turn golden. season with salt and pepper. add wine if using and cook 2 minutes. add tomatoes, breaking up as you put them in and puree. bring mixture to a boil and reduce heat to low; let simmer 20 minutes, or until thickened. season with salt and pepper; stir in grated parm and cook 2 minute, more.

Tuesday, March 10, 2009

not so fancy

the first time 
i ordered risotto,
i was six week into
my first real job, at a
get-to-know-your-coworkers
lunch.
i had never even tasted
a fork-full, but i had
heard the stories
of never ending stirring
over a hot stove
and i thought,
this must be very
sophisticated.
(um...i know.)

i had been eyeing up the dish
and when others at the table
selected the same thing,
i thought,
i'm going for it.

it was gummy,
very heavy and dotted
with undercooked diced
vegetables that made
the dish seem
the furthest
thing from fancy.

i wrote it off,
and checked it off:
sure, i never really wanted
to eat it again,
but at least i could say i
had experienced it.

then two years later,
at a press trip for work
at the amazing
in napa
they served corn risotto
as an appetizer.
it was indescribably good:
slightly al dente arborio rice,
ultra creamy
and
bursting
with
fresh kernels
of sweet corn
sitting in a foamy parmesan broth.

when i came home,
i decided that i was going to make
a pot myself.
i stood, scared
to ever stop
moving the spoon,
worried that the one second
that i used to transfer
warm chicken stock
into the rice,
would ruin the whole
mixture.

in school,
two years later,
my fear of ruining
risotto dissipated.
when you're forced
to make something
over and
over and
over again
that tends to happen.

for me, it became a fun
process,
stirring the
slightly toasted rice
and softened onions
(mostly) constantly,
adding warmed stock,
ladle by ladle,
and watching the grains
absorb the liquid,
timing it just right.

i loved
discovering that other
grains are just as capable
of releasing their
starches
to create a creamy
risotto-like dish.

the process is the same,
give or take the cooking time.
whole grains
generally require a longer
stay over the flame
to reach a toothsome
tenderness.
and the finished product
is often hardier,
filling in a slightly
different way
than the white rice version.
it also makes it not
quite as elegant a meal,
more of a casual salve
for a cold night
at home.

this one is made
with barley,
which just feels so winter,
but i imagine,
when done right,
could be so spring, too.
peas and chives give
the mixture a pop
of color and a change
in flavor, which
is quite welcome with
such an admittedly,
monotone dish.
and, my favorite part
came from using a
mixture of
mushroom and chicken
stocks,
imparting
a noticeable earthiness.

give yourself an hour
from start to finish.
it will not be a stressful
60 minutes,
or so exciting,
either,
but on the plus side,
it will help you
strengthen your
stirring muscle.

when you're finished,
you'll have a
hot hearty pot,
that tastes special,
but lets you feel
like you can
relax,
feed a bunch
of people
and forget
to care
whether
or not
the dish is
sophisticated.
barley risotto with peas and parmesan
if you're crazy for mushrooms, feel free to go 100% mushroom stock. for a more subtle flavor, mix the two like i did, or if you can't stand them, leave it out. i'm able to find 32 oz. containers of mushroom stock at specialty or slightly gourmet grocery stores. adding shrimp, scallops or even sauteed chicken would be delicious and make for a more substantial meal.

8-10 cups chicken and/or mushroom stock
2 Tbs. unsalted butter
1 medium onion, peeled and diced
3 cloves garlic, peeled and finely chopped
1 pkg. (16 oz.) barley
1 pkg. (16 oz.) frozen peas, thawed
1/4 cup snipped fresh chives
1/2 cup parmesan cheese, plus extra
for passing at the table

in saucepot, bring stock to a simmer; reduce heat to low.

meanwhile, in large skillet or medium saucepot, melt butter over medium heat. add onions and garlic and cook 10 minutes, or until softened and translucent, but not browned. season with kosher salt and cracked black pepper. add barley and cook 2 minutes, stirring to coat.

add 1/2 cup warmed stock and cook 3 minutes, or until liquid is absorbed, stirring almost constantly. add 1/2 cup stock and cook 3 minutes more, or until liquid is absorbed, stirring. repeat process until grains have released their starches, have swelled and are tender to the bite. the process should take about 45 minutes - you may not need all of the liquid.

stir in peas, chives and parmesan cheese. cook 1 minute, or until warmed through. season with kosher salt and cracked black pepper. divide risotto among bowls; pass additional cheese at the table.