A Cook With A View

Brandied French Onion Soup

2016-03-03T10:24:00.000-05:00

With the weather today at a balmy 22 degrees, I wanted to make something to, not only warm the house up, but myself. When I traveled all over the world, I'd try various versions throughout. One of my favorites was surprisingly from a restaurant in Hong Kong. It seems I can never leave well enough alone and this recipe has evolved into a soup that, not only incorporates various onions, but has a distant, herbed background. Change up the cheeses used, as well as the bread or croutons. The photo below used torn shards of a homemade rye baguette croutons with Brie and Cheddar cheeses and garnished with thyme leaves that will add a fresh, herb-y scent mixed with the steaming soup . Make your own version and tell me about it! Just be fearless in the kitchen and have fun most of all.

Brandied French Onion Soup

2 Tbl. Butter, unsalted

5 Yellow Onions, large; peeled, cut in half and ¼” sliced

2 Large Red Onions, peeled, cut in half and ¼” sliced

4 Leeks, including tender green portions, ¼” sliced

2 Garlic cloves, minced

1 bay leaf

3-4” Thyme sprigs, fresh; leaves removed

2 tsp. Rosemary, fresh; finely minced

½ Cup dry White Wine*

8 Cups Beef stock

Salt and freshly ground Black Pepper, to taste

1 healthy shot of Brandy for finishing

12 baguette slices, each sliced ½” thick

¼ Cup Extra Virgin Olive Oil, for brushing

1½ Cup Gruyère, Jarlsberg or Swiss cheese (or combination)**, shredded

Thyme leaves for garnish, fresh

In a large, heavy-bottomed soup pot or Dutch oven over medium low heat, melt the butter until it foams. Add the onions and leeks, a pinch of salt and sauté, stirring occasionally, until wilted, about 30 minutes total. Add the garlic, bay leaf, thyme and continue cooking, stirring frequently, until richly colored and caramelized, 1 hour covered, checking and stirring occasionally to make sure all of the onions are browning. (You may need to increase the heat to medium to add some color at the end.) If the onions begin to “stick” to the bottom, simply deglaze with ¼ cup of water and scrape the bottom clean with a wooden spoon.

Once you’ve reached a rich, caramel color discard the thyme sprigs and add the wine and reduce about half way. Add stock. Cover partially and simmer until the flavors are well blended, about 30 minutes more. Season with salt and pepper to taste and stir in the shot of brandy. Remove and discard the bay leaf.

Preheat oven to 400°F. Place the baguette slices on a cookie sheet, brush lightly with olive oil and toast in the oven for 5-7 minutes or until golden and lightly toasted. Remove and set aside.

To serve, preheat the broiler. Ladle the soup into individual oven-proof soup bowls. Place 2 or 3 slices of bread on top of each bowl and mound with cheese. Slide under the broiler about 6” from the element. Broil until the cheese is bubbly and lightly browned, 3 to 4 minutes. Garnish with fresh thyme leaves sprinkled on top. Serve immediately. Serves 4 to 6.

*May use Sherry or Madeira to change things up a bit.

**For a change I like to mix in Brie, Stilton, Gorgonzola or a French Bleu, whatever is in the refrigerator.

Falling for Pears

2015-10-24T21:12:00.000-04:00

Simply said, I love pears. I like the sensuous curves of their form. The sweet and reassuring smell of what lies inside. A gentle push on the blossom end to see if they're just ripe for enjoying with a sharp and earthy Stilton or French Bleu cheese. Do they need a few days on the window sill in my kitchen serving as soldierly decorations waiting for thoughts forming in my mind on what lies ahead for them? The beautiful sharp, speckled greens of the Green Anjou. Or it's wanton sister, the Red Anjou all decked out in her crimson promise. Maybe the sueded Bosc or the plump Comice. And finally, sometimes if I'm lucky enough to find a smaller Seckel or Forelle pear just begging for it's turn as the perfectly caramelized take on a Tarte Tatin. Whichever variety I choose, I know that I won't be disappointed in my lovelies.
Pears offer up so many thoughts on their uses. I love slicing their luscious cheeks paper thin and adding them into a Bacon Grilled Cheese Sandwich. Or a little thicker lying sweetly stretched out on a crusty baguette married with some salty prosciutto. They're deliciously gracious poached in rosé wine with spices and raw sugar and then stuffed with raspberries and bittersweet chocolate bathed in the reduced poaching liquid. Tossed into salads. Halved, cored and grilled and then stuffed with a tangy blue cheese and finished with honey, well there really is nothing better. Pears, for me, are only limited by the far reaches of my imagination.
The recipe today is a simple one. Something from Italy, although it could be served up in the South of France or in Spain - an uncomplicated Torta Rustica di Pere or Pear Cake.

Torta Rustica di Pere

(Italian Pear Cake)

3 Pears, very ripe; peeled, cored and cut into rough chunks
½ Lemon, juiced

½ Cup + 1 Tbl. Sugar

3 Eggs, large

1¼ Cup All Purpose Unbleached Flour

¼ Cup Polenta or Corn Meal, fine to medium ground

1 Tbl. Baking Powder

1 pinch Salt (fine Kosher or Sea Salt)

4 Tbl. Butter, melted and cooled

¼ Cup Marsala Wine

½ Cup Almonds, slivered or shaved

Confectioner’s Sugar for finishing

Whipped cream (optional)*

Pre-heat the oven 350°F. Lightly butter a 9" cake pan and line the bottom with parchment paper and set aside.

Peel and core the pears and cut into non-fussy chunks. Toss lightly in a separate bowl with lemon juice and set aside.

Cream the eggs and sugar until light and fluffy. Add in the flour, polenta/corn meal, baking powder salt. Stir to just combined. Mix in the butter and Marsala till the batter is smooth. Pour the batter. into your prepared pan and place the pears into the batter evenly, gently pushing down each piece of pear. (It doesn’t matter if the pear sticks out of the cake it will all blend in.) Sprinkle the almonds evenly over the top, again gently pressing down. Bake for 30 minutes or until a toothpick comes out clean. Remove from oven and cool.

When cool dust top with confectioner's sugar. Serve with whipped cream on the side.

*Whipped Cream – You may use Vanilla, but why not change the flavoring to Marsala, Brandy, Grand Marnier, etc. for an varied twist.

Basic Whipped Cream – 1 Cup Heavy Whipping Cream, 2 tsp. Sugar (to taste), 2 tsp. Vanilla (to taste)

~Begin beating the whipped cream with an electric mixer. When the cream begins to stiffen add in the sugar and flavoring. Continue beating until stiff, white peaks hold their shape.

...It's Been A Long, Long Time

2015-08-12T18:18:00.000-04:00

Somehow it seems appropriate to start back with a basic post of a Roast Chicken lightly cloaked in Fennel Pollen. A combination of some of my most loved places - Provence, Italy and Morocco. Poivrons Farcis/Stuffed Peppers with an Apricot and Almond Risotto and a Rosé Wine sauce. Classes will be resuming this Fall as I've come back into better health. What has changed with A Cook With A View is my focus. Cooking is how I relax. Teaching provides joy and relief from other areas. Seeing the "light" flicker on in a students eyes inspires more passion, storytelling and laughter each time. Your excitement and coaxing have carried me more than you realize. The blog may change. A new website is forthcoming. Life is getting simpler, exciting and colorful. Technique remains my focus in each class with the upcoming demonstration classes and events. New Dinner with Wine Pairing classes will be added once a month based on my travels around the world as a Menswear Designer of 20 years. I look forward to seeing you, meeting you and sharing it all with you within my home.

Classes for the Emergence of Spring

2012-03-21T14:53:00.001-04:00

A Cook With A View

presents

Comfort and Exotica

New Classes for the Emergence of Spring

Continuations Into

The Foundations of Becoming a Great and Confident Cook

“There is no end. There is no beginning. There is only the passion of life.”

~Federico Fellini

The changes of one season to the next mimic the ongoing changes we experience within our lives day by day, moment by moment. One thing that remains constant is the room to grow and expand our horizons with new tastes, flavors, techniques and experiences in our own humble kitchens. Old techniques will be further delved into, as in the basics of making a quality Stock and transforming it into an exotic and enticing broth. Pasta is carried a step further with the additions of Ravioli and an introduction to Gnocchi into your culinary repertoire. The secrets of a quick and truly easy Puff Pastry and the magical appetizers, entrées and desserts that come forth from it, will inspire your creativity. We’ll travel and discover the exotic allure of various Asian cuisines with culinary memories and recipes from a past life on the road in China, Japan and Thailand. More exotica are uncovered within the mystical realms of the Moroccan table. And lastly, as promised, Beginning Bread Basics with baby steps leading to a comforting, warm slice of simple yeast breads slathered in homemade butter and jams. Yes, I did say homemade butter.

I am truly excited to finally begin our cooking adventures with you all and look forward to seeing my old friends and making new ones along the way. The recipes have been tested and tried, written and re-written in anticipation of sharing amongst my culinary friends. As with everything in life, as well as in the kitchen, remaining Steadfast and Fearless with a big measure of Patience and Passion are the best ingredients in our lives and in our kitchens.

March 31^th, 2012 Saturday 10:00 a.m.

~Mairzy Doats and Little Lambs Eat Ivy ~

Springtime or anytime, there’s nothing like the succulence of a well-prepared lamb dish. Gamey? Not if you know how to choose, prepare, season and cook it properly. From stewing and grilling to roasting and skewering, the various techniques you’ll choose to cook up your lamb will surprise yourself and your guests with tastes from around the world and back home again.

v Mom’s Sunday Garlic Studded Roast Leg of Lamb with New Potatoes

v Irish Lamb Stew

v Italian Grilled Fennel Lamb Chops with Red Onion Marmellata

v Honeyed Apricot Lamb Skewers with Fresh Mint

v Greek Shepard’s Pie

v Rack of Lamb with a Mustard Herbed Crust

Getting to know your butcher and where your meat comes from is key to a perfect lamb dish. Use all of the fabulously refined senses that I know you possess – sight, smell and touch. Starting with those, the tastes you create will be out of this world!

$50 per person

A limit of 15 spaces will be reserved on a first come/first serve basis. Class length 3 hours.

The Beginnings of a Beautiful Tomato Marmellata to Anoint the Lamb

April 7^th, 2011 Saturday 10:00 a.m.

~Sensational Soups ~

Why is it so comforting when a steaming bowl of hot, absolutely delectable soup is placed in front of us? Memories from childhood and the comfort felt on a cold day or evening? No matter what the senses recall, nothing say “Comfort” like soup. By changing a few ingredients, we’ll find that making a recipe your very own is easier than you think!

v Beef ³ Barley Soup

v Joe’s “BLP” or Bacon & Leek Potato Soup

v Spring Vegetable Minestrone with Gremolatta

v Potage St. Germaine (A French Take on Fresh Pea Soup)

v Senegalese Sweet Potato and Peanut Soup with Shrimp

v Waterzooi, a Belgian take on a creamy chicken soup

Twisting familiar techniques to transform everyday ingredients into that which is more memorable and romantically exotic is simple. Really! Onward we charge into the not-so-dangerous liaisons and thickening tricks for those sumptuous and sensational soups.

$40 per person

A limit of 15 spaces will be reserved on a first come/first serve basis. Class length 3 hours.

April 14^th, 2012 Saturday 10:00 a.m.

~Duck, Duck (no goose) ~

What is it about duck that strikes fear in the hearts of the everyday cook? Fat? Spattering? Messy ovens? Come on! There are numerous techniques to deal with the fat. Too rich? Get over it! The mouthwatering lusciousness that is received from a properly cooked duck is beyond compare. The techniques involved are curiously simple, yet impressive enough to put a feather (Mallard, of course!) into your expanding kitchen repertoire of knowledge. Come, fly with me and let’s have some fun in the reeds.

v Roast Duck with Apricot and Chinese Five Spice Glaze

v Raspberry & Port Duck Breasts with Gorgonzola Pear Risotto

v Roast Duck in Chinese Pancakes with Plum Sauce

v Duck aux Clementines

v Duck Confit with Tea & Honey Braised Fruit

No quacks or kinks in this experience. I think you’ll be pleasantly surprised at your new found confidence and ease in creating an extra-ordinary meal for those you love.

$50 per person

April 21^st, 2011 Saturday 10:00 a.m.

~Turning Japanese ~

Sushi? No. Let’s start with something everyone will eat. Japanese cooking depends, as in all other cuisines, simple, fresh and perfect ingredients. Fussy? No, but exquisitely flavored that you’ll wonder why you hadn’t explored this cuisine before. Learning the secret of an incredibly delicious Teriyaki sauce, Crisp and elegant Tempura that may be adapted from herbs to shrimp

v Beef Negamaki – oven-grilled sake beef with scallions

v Chicken Teriyaki – not on a stick!

v Seared Spring New Potatoes

v Grilled Salmon Yakatori with a light Wasabi Sauce

v Chicken Nanban Udon, otherwise known as Chicken Noodle Soup!

v Double Ginger Green Tea Ice Cream

Easy Spring into Summer techniques and recipes for simply fantastic dining and entertaining. And you thought Japanese cuisine was all sushi, sashimi and seaweed?! That’s another class! Vegetables and Salads complete this introduction into an ancient and elegant cuisine.

$40 per person

limit of 15 spaces will be reserved on a first come/first serve basis. Class length 3 hours.

Learning Texture in a Hands-On Pasta Class

April 28^th, 2011 Saturday 10:00 a.m.

~Gnocchi ~

An Easy Introduction

Making these feather-light pillows you’ll swear an angel helped you in the kitchen. Let your family think you slaved for hours perfecting these undemanding Ricotta Gnocchi or Gnudi, as they are known in Italy. Spectacularly simple variations are only limited to your own imagination. Vieni a mangiare con Giuseppe and let’s have some fun!

v Basic Ricotta Gnocchi with herbs

v Spinach Gnudi with a simple Marinara

v Butternut Squash Gnocchi with a Brown Butter and Sage Sauce

v Parisian Gnocchi with Arugula Pesto

Be careful! I warn you. The delicate texture of these Gnudi is so delectably delicious you’ll want to eat the entire platter yourself. Oh go ahead. I won’t tell anyone. I promise. This will be a semi-hands on class so that your textural experience is complete – from hands to stomach. Vieni a giocare con me in cucina! Come play with me in the kitchen!

$40 per person

A limit of 15 spaces will be reserved on a first come/first serve basis. Class length 3 hours.

May 5^th, 2012 Saturday 10:00 a.m.

~Puff! ~

Truly Simple, Easy and Magical Puff Pastry from Scratch

Scared? Don’t be. I’ll hold your hand and guide you into the magical world of making a Real and Buttery dough from scratch. We’ll get out our aggressions and mix, pound and roll flour and butter into the spectacular ingredient it is, Puff Pastry. From there, we’ll create unforgettable appetizers and hors d’ouevres and learn how to make a magnificent entrées en croute along with pot pies. Did I hear you say Dessert? Okay, twist my arm! Go ahead. You don’t have to ask me twice. Puff pastry - So easy. So Simple. So Crisply Decadent.

v Spinach and Feta Palmiers

v Seeded Cheese Straws

v Salmon en Croute with Caper Lemon Crème

v Provençal Onion, Bacon and Mushroom Tart

v Light and Airy Strawberry Napoleons

v Apple Tarte Tatin

Okay, okay. So you tell me you’re too afraid to try and make it from scratch? Give it a try anyway. This will demonstrate the quicker version with still perfect results. You can always go back to that margarine-laced stuff at the supermarket. I won’t hold it against you, but my recipes are “to live for”.

$40 per person

A limit of 12 spaces will be reserved on a first come/first serve basis. Class length 3 hours.

May 12^h, 2012 Saturday 10:00 a.m.

~Vietnamese Fresh ~

Spring freshness delivered in the form of exotic Vietnamese cuisine. Influenced by its past French colonization, China and the surrounding sea, Vietnamese cooking is effortlessly elegant and satisfies a healthy way of eating and dining with friends. With ingredients that may be found at local supermarkets and “Joe’s Scary Stores”, we’ll take the mystery out of this exotic and distant land and its food.

v Pho – A soup of greens, vegetables, rice noodles, chicken or beef

v Pork in Coconut Milk with Lime

v Garlic Ginger Chicken

v Goi cuon or Fresh Spring Rolls (Nime Chow)

v Clay Pot Chicken

v Saigon Cabbage and Chicken Salad

Turning every day ingredients, along with one or two new items, into something curiously new and alluring will surprise not only your family and friends, but I think you’ll be amazed at yourself for taking on unchartered culinary techniques and territories.

$40 per person

A limit of 15 spaces will be reserved on a first come/first serve basis. Class length 3 hours.

Something Moroccan This Way Comes

Thank you for your continued interest and support. You are all my very own Cooks With A View and for that I am truly grateful. In May we’ll continue with introduction classes on Ravioli and Yeast Breads, A Moroccan Table, followed by Salads and the Lightness of their Dressings, a new tantalizing health (but never boring!) series on Fish and Chicken.

~Joseph

Email: info@acookwithaview.com

Warming a Chill with Food & Friends

2012-01-02T23:06:00.003-05:00

Changes. A new home. A new kitchen. Old and new friends to lend support and help amidst those changes that I am forever indebted. I must apologize for not posting to the faithful that have been reading my little blog about food and what it has meant to me and what it means to me. I'm getting used to a new kitchen and unpacking old friends who are ready to lend forth their magic with a little help from me.
We've been fortunate with a mild Winter, here in the Northeast. Today was a "balmy" 50, but the next two days we're to receive a reminder of what season we're in with a blast from the frozen north. So, with that in mind I've summoned together what onion varieties I have and made a nice pot of Onion Soup to serve to friends, warm the house and feed my soul.
Cooking has a way of making everything alright with me. It allows me to concentrate and forget the outside world for a little while and bring everything back to order. Here's wishing you all a year filled with dreams that come true, the best in health, happiness, love and of course success with everything that comes out of your kitchen.

French Onion Soup

2 Tbl. Butter, unsalted
5 Yellow Onions, large; ¼” sliced
2 Large Red Onions, ¼” sliced
3 tsp. All Purpose Flour
¼ tsp. Sugar (optional)
4 Leeks, white and tender light green portions,
¼” sliced
2 Garlic cloves, peeled and finely minced
1 Bay leaf
3 - 4” Thyme sprigs, fresh; leaves removed
½ Cup Dry Sherry*
8 Cups Beef stock
Salt and freshly ground Black Pepper, to taste
12 baguette slices, each sliced ½” thick
¼ Cup Extra Virgin Olive Oil, for brushing
1 Garlic clove, peeled
1½ Cup Gruyère, Jarlsberg or Swiss cheese (or combination)**, shredded

In a large, heavy-bottomed soup pot or Dutch oven over medium low heat, melt the butter until it foams. Add the onions and leeks, a pinch of salt, sprinkle in the flour and sauté, stirring occasionally, until wilted, about 15 minutes. Add the garlic, bay leaf, thyme, and sugar (if using) and continue cooking, stirring frequently, until richly colored and caramelized, 45 minutes to 1 hour. (You may need to increase the heat to medium to add some color at the end.) If the onions begin to “stick” to the bottom, simply deglaze with ¼ cup of water and scrape the bottom clean with a wooden spoon.

Wilting the onions and leeks

Once you’ve reached a rich, caramel color, add the sherry and stock. Cover partially and simmer until the flavors are well blended, about 30 minutes more. Season with salt and pepper to taste. Remove and discard the bay leaf.

Richly caramelized. Perfect also for a steak or hamburger!

Preheat oven to 400°F. Place the baguette slices on a cookie sheet, brush lightly with olive oil and toast in the oven for 5-7 minutes or until golden and lightly toasted. Rub each slice lightly with the raw garlic clove. Set aside.

A few choice cheeses to melt and anoint over the croutons.

An abundance of warm and comforting richness.

*May use a dry white or red wine.

**For a change I like to mix in Stilton, Gorgonzola, Pecorino Romano or a French Bleu, whatever is in the refrigerator.

A Season of Change

2011-10-24T22:15:00.002-04:00

I have to say that of all the seasons, Fall is my favorite. Could it be that the heat of Summer is over and the humidity is finally breaking? The nights becoming crisp and my favorite sweaters pulled on to ward off the chill. Maybe its the long walks, scattering a path amongst the crimson, burnt orange and golden leaves with my comfortable, old boots.

This is when recipes come to life in my mind. Awakening the senses within and creating new flavors and twist on old favorites. Fall has always been my most creative time. It's when I think of roast pork with polenta, a hearty cut of beef braised in a robust wine with rosemary and sage. Apple cobblers and pear crisps. Hearty breads studded with rich black olives and walnuts paired with a small slice of Gorgonzola. Making lists of guests to have over for an intimate dinner or two or three or more.
I've been remiss in posting lately and apologize. Sometimes paths change in life and my kitchen is following down a new path and to a new location. It's been a year for change and a season of changes. All good. All new. All fresh. And all for you to feast upon.

There is a light at the end of the tunnel and it's bigger and brighter and better. Classes continue at the Grange every week. If you're not receiving the latest and greatest of selections that I've posted, kindly drop me a line and I'll be happy to send them to you. I'd love to see you in person. Thank you for your continued support and following with more recipes and tastes to come,
~Joseph

A Culinary Inheritance, Clam Chowder

2011-10-06T20:57:00.000-04:00

To all my faithful readers and cooks with their views, kindly forgive the lack of photos. They will follow. My kitchen is changing, as is life and I'll post them soon! ~Joseph

Long, long ago when I was not even the merest glint or gleam in the eye of any ancestor on my mother's side, the shores of some place new beckoned for something different to those that I am a part of so long ago. A new place to put down roots and explore, "set up shop" so to speak. Those same ancestors leaving England to escape persecution and settling in New England, siding with the King and then high-tailing it up to New Brunswick and Nova Scotia, which has to explain my love of anything British forwarded to my own karmic existence these many centuries later. When things calmed down in the newly formed United States, they crept back down into Maine and Massachusetts and lived off the land and sea to sustain their livelihoods.
As a boy, we would fly from California to Boston and then drive up to my Aunt Doris' farm in Gorham, Maine for Summer and Winter vacations. One late Summer trip, my Uncle Bud and my Father drove over to the harbor in Portland, in that old two-tone green and rust truck, to bring home some Littleneck clams, chicken (1 pound) lobsters, as well as a behemoth of a specimen who's faded claw sits proudly on my bureau as a reminder of that trip that instilled a lifelong love affair with New England. It felt like I belonged somewhere, finally. How could I know this without really knowing the family ancestry yet? Was it the "common sense" lifestyle that I experienced on the farm? Wading through the little river in the "back forty" to gather wild blueberries with my Cousin John that were to be made into my Aunt's lusciously simple blueberry pie to be eaten after all of those lobsters? Or could it have been that clam chowder? Possibly. That same shoreline recipe brought down from those ancestors so long ago waking and stirring that hidden passion that said to me, "You'll come back. We know you will."
And I did. And I still make that clam chowder when I'm alone or for company, in the same pot that my Mother used. Ladeling the milky soup into her brown and cream English china bowl on top of a handful of crushed Milk Lunch Crackers like my Father taught me. Or, if I can't find those, then some simple crushed Oyster Crackers ready to thicken my culinary inheritance.

Crackers and Bowls awaiting their chowder for my students

It's funny how if I really pay attention and if I concentrate hard enough, I can smell the salt on the wind that my ancestors experienced so long ago in this simple bowl of chowder.

New England Clam Chowder

4-5 cans Chopped Clams, drained and liquid reserved

or 8 lbs. Quahog or Cherrystone Clams (large)*
2-8 oz. bottles Natural Clam Broth
4 oz. Salt Pork**, ¼” dice
2 Yellow Onions, medium; ¼” dice
6 Yukon Gold or Russet Potatoes, small; peeled and cut into ½” slice
1 quart Light Cream
Salt, to taste
1 tsp. Black Pepper, freshly ground
2 Tbl. Butter, unsalted; softened

Cream, Milk Lunch (if you can find them) or Oyster Crackers, crushed

Preheat large soup or stock pot over medium heat for 2 to 3 minutes and then add the salt pork. Once it has rendered a few tablespoons of fat, increase the heat to medium high, stirring occasionally so not to burn and cook until it is crisp. Remove salt pork and place on paper towels to drain, discard the fat portions.

Add the onion and potatoes into the pot, season with a pinch of salt and cook until the onions are translucent, but not caramelized.

Add the clam juice, along with the reserved liquid from the canned clams. The broth should just barely cover the potatoes. If it doesn't, add enough water to cover them. Turn up the heat and bring to a simmer. Cook the potatoes r about 10 minutes until they are soft on the outside and but slightly firm in the center. If it hasn't thickened a bit, smash some of them against the side of the pot and cook a minute or so longer to release the starch.

Turn the heat to low and add the clams, salt pork and cream. Add the pepper and salt to taste. Continue heating over low heat until all of the flavors have blended, about 2-3 minutes, taking care not to bring to a boil. For a slightly thicker Chowder, smash some of the potatoes against the insides of the pot with the back of a large spoon. Remove from heat and serve either in the pot or a tureen. Add butter and stir.

Place a handful of crushed crackers into the bottom of each bowl and ladle the chowder on top. Serve at once.

*Scrub clams clean. In a large pot, bring 2 Cups Water to a boil, add clams and cover, steaming for 2-3 minutes. Lift cover and stir with a large spoon. Replace cover and continue 2-3 more minutes for Littlenecks, 5-7 for Cherrystones or up to 10 or 12 minutes for larger Quahog Clams. Strain "liquor" through a fine sieve into a bowl, throwing away any unopened clams. Sieve again slowly so not to have any remnants of sand and reserve for the soup base to replace the bottle of clam juice. Chop clams for the chowder to your taste.

**May substitute Bacon for a smokier flavor.

Savoring Summer

2011-09-13T20:25:00.006-04:00

Ready and Set for Pickling

Meandering through the back roads of Rhode Island today, time-traveling back in history to the days of homesteading and into old colonial farmsteads, showing their well-worn years and maintained through several generations still tilling the land. Cows languidly lying beneath the oak trees in the late September sun. Goats continually eating their weight in grass and brush, clearing the land. Black sheep scattering through a wind-kissed field next to the tall stalks of corn ready to be harvested from now into the early Autumn. The same feeling I get when traveling through Tuscany with my friends Pat, Wende and Judy Witts-Francini on our food tours. A lazy day spent exploring and laughing with friends that I've known now and in lives past.
Stopping at a farm with my friend Katie to buy some ears of "popping" corn that will be dry in time for a late night snack on Thanksgiving night around the table with a game of cards amongst friends. The farmer proudly displaying a photo taken from the air of their corn maze in the shape of a large and looming, yet friendly enough cow. Taking the road further we come into a town that "feel's just right". You know the feeling. A place that you know has been waiting for you to discover it, patiently by the side of that road. North Scituate. We stopped for lunch at a small restaurant, or coffee shop, or meeting place. A spot right out of a movie set, The Village Bean. Waitresses cracking their dry New England wit with the regulars who lean patiently against the counter, glancing at us "newcomers" eating our turkey sandwiches. Then, back down the road again to my friend Doreen at Pezza Farms for a half bushel of tomatoes for my upcoming "You Say Tomato, I Say Tomatl" class at the Grange. I can never resist the freshness of her produce. A few pounds of hot cherry peppers destined to be made into gifts of jam to spread on cream cheese, to glaze a chicken or pork tenderloin. But today, a quick recipe for some pickled tomatoes to peck on before dinner or to add to my martini, in lieu of the usual olive. Very simple. Very good.

Tomatoes packed in their jars

Pickled Tomatoes

2½ pints Grape Tomatoes

8 Pepperoncini Peppers, jarred
4 Dill sprigs, fresh; stemmed
4 Garlic cloves, gently smashed
1 tsp. whole black peppercorns
1 Cup Cider Vinegar
1¼ Cups Water
2½ Tbl. Kosher Salt
1 Tbl. Sugar

Combine peppercorns, tomatoes, pepperoncini, dill, and garlic in a sterilized 2 quart glass jar with a tight fitting lid. Bring vinegar, salt, sugar, and 1¼ cups water to a boil in a saucepan; stir until salt and sugar dissolve. Pour vinegar mixture over tomatoes to ½” from the top and wipe rim clean.

Seal jar and let it cool completely. Refrigerate for up to 2 weeks.

Alternately – Process the jars, lids and rings in boiling water fully covered for 20 minutes. Remove and dry upside-down on clean dish towels. Add the tomatoes to the jars, fill with the liquid to ½” from the top, wipe rim clean for a perfect seal and top with lids. Screw on rings tightly and place in a large pot covered with water by at least 1”. Bring water to a boil and process for 10 minutes from the minute it begins to boil. Remove carefully back onto a rack and let cool for 24 hours without touching them. They’ll keep for several months this way unrefrigerated in your cupboard.

A gift for myself and my friends

A Late Summer Picnic for One

2011-09-03T00:00:00.009-04:00

Oh don't let that title mislead you or conjure up feelings of sorrow for your dear author. A picnic, whether shared with friends, a canine pal or just by myself affords me the purest and simplest of pleasures that I can ever imagine. Something spontaneous. Impromptu. Such a magical, carefree word that is, Impromptu. What's in the cupboard? What's in the refrigerator? What kind of a feast can I produce with what is on hand? Simplicity is best, I think. Taking advantage of what the current season has to offer. Naturally, tomatoes of all colors come to mind. Some sharp, salty and piquant cheese to balance the sweet acidity of the fruit, along with the bitterness of some homemade oil cured olives. Remembrances of a lesson about olive-making taught to me by my Grandmother so many years ago in the scary basement of her house. That magical and mysterious, dusty gallon jar sitting on an old, wooden shelf by the washing machine. One trip they were green, swimming in a brine. The next, they were darker remnants of their former verdant selves. Still another trip and they were shriveled and coated in olive oil with red pepper flakes heaped in her blue and white plate, sitting on the dining room table being picked at by eager fingers.

As a boy, I was told to try everything at least once. "You never have to have it again if you don't like it.", was the familiar mantra that still rings to this day from my Mother's lips. That saying has led me far in life, especially now that I cook and teach people how to cook and experience the beauty of the process. It was also a way of her training my mind to be open to new things in this life. Try it all. See it all. Feel it all. Experience it all. Isn't that really the grand lesson to learn from the word "Life"? I think at times we travel down the same worn out food path that our eyes never look up and see the wonder that is given and surrounds us. For me, food always offers something new to experience. To see. To feel. To smell. To taste. And, even to hear. The snap of a green bean. That crunch of an apple.

Here in New England, Fall is on its way. There's something in the air. My mind is beginning to think of warming, comfort food. Roast chickens with crackled skin, braised beef in Chianti, root vegetables caramelized in the oven over high heat to bring out their natural sweetness and goodness. I assure you that I'll include more recipes with sustenance. More beef, more chicken, and more of the pleasures that our local waters in Rhode Island provide for us. Honest flavors. Simplicity and warmth. Something to take on a picnic under the shedding, multi-colored leaves with a loved one or friends.

Or maybe, just maybe you might want to indulge yourself on a luxurious, unapologetic picnic for one.

Corn, Off the Cob and Into the Bowl

2011-08-24T17:13:00.002-04:00

Hot August memories of driving with my parents in that same Ford Country Squire station wagon to The Corn Palace to get the freshest ears that were picked that morning. My sister and I squabbling about something and my mother's red, laquered fingernails reaching to separate the two of us from the front seat, while my father bellowed, "You don't want me to stop this car do you? I will!" That was enough for the two of us to quiet down, but still glare at each other when my father wasn't looking in the rearview mirror. My mother patting her French twist hair-do to make sure that it was in place, a subtle signal for the two of us to keep quiet.
My sister and father were the "corn experts" in the family. They could detect the freshness, the sweetness and knew everything there was to picking out and buying the best ears for our dinner. When I was younger I considered corn to be solely a vehicle to sop up that precious butter that held more interest. That glistening and well-anointed cob, dripping its salty slick down my arm as I devoured those kernels from one side of the cob to the other. My front teeth acting like voracious keys on an old-fashioned typewriter carriage, back and forth, back and forth.
But, while it's gratifying to eat a buttery ear of corn right off the cob, (although now with no butter or salt, but simply a splash of juice from a lemon or lime) there is so much that I really love to do with those sweet, milky kernels once they have been freed from the ear that they had clung. No, I'm not going far back to the times of the local Pequot and Narragansett Indians and dry it, grind it in the old stone mill that I just happen to have lying about in the backyard and serve up some Rhode Island Johnnycakes. That's another lesson. Oh, I could sauté the corn in some sweet-cream butter with a few simply snipped garlic chives from the garden, some diced tomatoes and christen it with crumbs of a salty feta or a ricotta salata. Or, I could add it to my Hush Puppies that are crisp on the outside and pillowy soft on the inside, spiced with some heat from the Kung Pao peppers that I've dried and cherished from last year's garden.

I'd rather share with you a recipe that contains the ulitmate in creaminess and the maximum in flavor from each kernel (and the cob) to create a soup that is lusciously simple. My Summer Corn Soup with Tomato Gremolata. The gremolata is an accent that enlivens it more with "Summer". But, feel free to add a couple of tablespoons of fresh crab or lobster to each bowl. Sauté a few shrimp and then chop them up to sprinkle on top. Or maybe use it as a base for a chowder inspired by the unlimited imaginations that I know you have within you.

Summer Corn Soup

With

Tomato Gremolatta

2 Tbl. Butter, unsalted

½ Yellow Onion, medium; diced

½ Russet Potato, large; diced

1½ Cups Milk, plus 1 Cup

1½ Cups Corn Stock* (okay, you can use veg. or chicken stock if you must)

4 ears of Corn, cut from the cob, or

3 Cups of Corn kernels, frozen

½ tsp. Sea Salt or to taste

In a medium saucepan over medium high heat, melt the butter until it begins to foam. Add the onion and thyme; cook until the onion is translucent, about 8 minutes. Add potato, 1 ½ cups of milk and stock, and bring to a gentle simmer. Simmer for about 10 minutes and add corn kernels. Cook for an additional 10 minutes.

Remove soup from stove and take out the thyme sprig. Using a hand held emersion blender, purée the soup until the corn and onions are smooth (if using a blender, work in batches, puréeing until smooth).

Return soup to a medium low heat and add salt and remaining cup of milk. Stirring occasionally, cook for 5 minutes.

Remove from stove and serve with the garnish of your choice. If the soup is too thick, thin it out with more stock.

*Corn Stock

4 Corn Cobs, kernels removed

4 Cups Water

8 Black Peppercorns, whole

1 Bay leaf, small

2-4” Thyme sprigs

In a small stock pot, add all of the ingredients and bring to a boil. Once the water begins to boil, lower it to a simmer and cover for 1 hour.

After the hour has finished, remove the cover. With tongs, take out the cobs, bay leaf and thyme sprigs. Turn heat back to high and boil, reducing to 1 ½ -2 cups. Use as directed.

Hot Summer Corn Soup with a Cool Tomato Gremolata & Sauteed Shrimp

Tomato Gremolata

1 Heirloom tomato, seeded and diced ¼ ″

½ Cup Italian Parsley, chopped fine

½ Lemon, juiced and zested

1 Green Onion, finely chopped

Salt and freshly ground Black Pepper to taste.

3 Tbl. Extra Virgin Olive Oil

Mix all ingredients and set aside for drizzling on the soup.

On Becoming Italian

2011-08-11T21:41:00.002-04:00

A Bouquet of Herbs for a Friend

Once in awhile you have the sheerest of pleasures to meet someone who, as my father used to say "fits like an old shoe." Comfortable. Someone that seems you have known in a past life. Paths that must have crossed in the long forgotten mists of time. The warmth of the greeting and common interests shared and savored as you walk the cobblestone streets together. Those of you that travel with me on my tours throughout Tuscany know her and have experienced her generous and warming spirit. There can be no other accolades that describe Judy Witts-Francini enough. She is the Diva of Divina Cucina fame (www.divinacucina.com). Her knowledge and insights into Italian culture, from an American perspective, literally transform you into the Italian you long to be when traveling there. One that sits down to eat with locals willing to share their passions, be they food, wine or just some of lifes simple pleasures. Sometimes all it requires is a smile shared between two people who don't speak each other's language, and yet that smile says all that needs to be said.

At the Central Market in Florence

There are no pretenses when you're with her. What you see is truly what you get. Her curiosity is infectious. Driving with her through the Tuscan hills and all of a sudden she remembers a little dairy that is making the Marzolino cheese, a sheep's milk cheese only produced in March. We drive further and stop at a local market that is held in one of the many small towns and select our produce for our meals that day. The choices are endless, but with the seasoning of a well-heeled general, Judy helps focus her little troops with a few glorious ingredients and not the entire market stall.
If I were to come up with only one word (and that would be difficult) to describe the way Judy cooks, it would be - Simple. Simplicity of ingredients, each contributing to the ultimate outcome and complimenting one another to paint a masterpiece in taste.

Clockwise from Top Left - Lemon Thyme, Italian Parsley, French Thyme, Sage, Rosemary, Lemon Zest, Garlic, Sea Salt

It's this time of year that I have an abundance of herbs that I begin to think of preserving for the coming months. Sage, Rosemary, Thyme. The freshness of these combined with the pungency of some garlic cloves and perhaps a little lemon zest and salt all chopped together and made into a heady melange of perfumes reminding me of the Tuscany that I love. Of the stalls brimming with the freshest produce the likes you have never seen before. The tastes given to you by vendors to feed into that complete sensory overload that you will remember and recall whenever you become "homesick" for your adopted country. An herb mix to sprinkle on your chicken or pork dishes. Maybe a baked piece of Cod or Sea Bass. Possibly some carrots pulled right from the garden, washed and tossed with some olive oil and roasted until just tender. But, most importantly, you will recall that new friend who shared this recipe with you that you swear you have known all of your life. The one who helped you "become" Italian and experience life as you know it should be lived, the Divina - Judy Witts-Francini.

The Final Chop Waiting to Dry

Tuscan Herbs

1 Cup Rosemary leaves

1 Cup Sage leaves

1 Cup Italian Parsley

½ Cup Thyme

Strips of Lemon zest

2-3 Garlic cloves, sliced

1 tsp. Salt, plus more as needed

Place the herbs, garlic and lemon zest on a large cutting board, sprinkle with the salt and using a chef’s knife or mezzaluna begin chopping until all is combined to a fine texture. About 20 minutes – really!

Once you have finished chopping and are satisfied with the degree of fineness, place in a wide bowl or on a baking sheet and leave out to dry. Depending upon the weather, this can take a few days to a week. Every time you pass by, “fluff” it and release some “Tuscany” into your surroundings. When dried, place in a jar and use to season your cooking. This mixture does not need to be refrigerated. And, remember that this mixture already has salt, so use accordingly with your recipes.

Note – Any combination or amount may be used. This is a recipe that is not written in stone and you can use what is on hand and constantly replenish what you have used.

Tomatoes - Summer's Gift of a Cool Saturation of Flavor

2011-08-07T21:03:00.003-04:00

Garden Perfection

I realize that we see tomatoes in the markets year round, but I truly believe that they are there only to serve as a reminder of what we are really waiting for, a recipe or dish made with tomatoes ripened to such perfection that the redness is not just on the surface, but infused to the core of the fruit. Until around July, the ingredient missing most in these pretenders to the throne of taste is the heady scent that only the sun can lend to the skin and flesh of a native-grown tomato that ripens outdoors. Oh sure, you can buy a "vine-ripened" imposter that has been raised in a greenhouse, bathed in warmth. But there is nothing like a locally harvested gem begging for you to taste its lusciousness and recall how Summer truly tastes. Meander and hunt for them in farmers’ markets, or beg some from a friend who grows them if you don't have a patch of your own. Look up local farms in your area that sell them and gather a few, savoring the simplicity and purity that only a tomato raised in the heat of the sun can provide. I remove the skin by plunging the tomatoes into hot water for a minute or two; it is not too much trouble to do and allows them to soak up more of the grassiness and "olive-y" flavor of a perfect extra virgin olive oil.

This simple salad reminds me of my childhood experiences of sitting around the table on a late Summer afternoon. My father breaking into a loaf of freshly baked Italian bread and the family gathered around my grandmother’s dining room table. I can still instantly recall the sight and perfume of that heavenly puddle of greenish oil and pink tomato juice in bottom of the cracked black and white bowl with the farm scene on it. I would gladly help clear the table and carry the bowl into the kitchen and drink up what was left of that mid-Summer treasure hidden from view from those still seated in the dining room. Now I am happy to eat just this as a meal in itself, especially this month when locally grown vegetables reach their zenith of flavor. Some tomatoes, extra virgin olive oil, maybe a bare sprinkle of a good balsamic vinegar to wake up the palette and a scatter of fresh oregano leaves. Light and simple. Summer is at hand and the vigor and brightness that it brings to our tables can only be summed up in the simplicity of that word - Tomato.

Jewels Fit for a Crown

The Farm

2011-07-28T17:59:00.004-04:00

I always speak of "the farm" in my cooking classes. Depending upon the context it could be "the farm" I visit most frequently near me in Rhode Island, Pezza Farms. Or, it could be "the farm" that my Aunt Doris had up in Gorham, Maine that we used to visit during the various seasons. There's a special place in my heart for farmers because of my Aunt Doris and Uncle Bud. Both up early, tending to the chickens, the cows, Liza the pig and the horses. Not to mention the fields on their 40 acres. I fondly remember visiting in the Summer and picking the small, wild Maine blueberries. And in the Winter, chopping a tree down for Christmas in the back forty and bringing it home to the family farmhouse that had been in the family for generations, trudging through the snow-covered woods with our cheeks so "Norman Rockwell-ian" rosy and then begging for one more sleigh ride, my sister and I bundled next to Uncle Bud at the reigns before we came in for hot chocolate and bed.
Yesterday, my friend Katie and I visited Pezza Farms and had a wonderful chat with Doreen Pezza. She can tell you anything and everything about growing this and that. What a font of knowledge to glean from, especially for anything that you may want to grow in Rhode Island. Within a blink of her blue eyes, she'll gather what you want, where you want to put it and how you're going to cultivate it and with such enthusiasm that before you know it "you just have to raise one of 'those' too"! Somehow you always find room. But, my main purpose was to see what produce she had to offer. The most beautiful heirloom cherry tomatoes beckoned, along with some fresh cries from gorgeous green beans. And then, in came Doreen's son with a bushel of sweet corn just picked. Well, how could I resist that? Never. The supper question was solved. Something easy, fresh, local and alright, alright...healthy.

Sautéed Cherry Tomatoes and Green Beans

With

Somewhat Fried Eggs

15-20 Cherry Tomatoes

1 Tbl. Extra Virgin Olive Oil

2 Garlic cloves, small; minced

2 Anchovy Filets, packed in oil; whole

Green Beans, a good handful*

2 Eggs, large

Salt and freshly ground pepper to taste

Italian or French Bread, sliced and toasted**

Wash and slice each cherry tomato in half, place in bowl and set aside. Preheat a medium non-stick skillet or 3 quart non-stick sauté pan over medium high heat for about 3 minutes. If you prefer a regular skillet or sauté pan, add another tablespoon of olive oil.

Jewel-like Cherry Tomatoes with Anchovies

Turn down heat to medium and add the olive oil and heat to a shimmer. Add the minced garlic, sautéing until lightly golden. Continue with placing the tomatoes and anchovies into the pan as well and cook until the tomatoes begin to soften and the anchovies begin to disappear, about 5-7 minutes. Scatter the green beans on top of the tomatoes and cover until beans begin to soften yet still retain some “bite”.

When beans have cooked, remove them from the pan and set aside. Remove tomatoes to a bowl, saving any liquid that is in the bottom of the pan. Crack each egg into the bottom of the pan in any remaining liquid and cover until desired degree of doneness is achieved.

Place a slice of the toasted bread onto a plate and spoon the tomatoes on top, followed by the green beans. Place the eggs on top of that and add any remaining pan juices. Season with salt and pepper. Serve at once.

*The amount of green beans is entirely up to you. Asparagus is a wonderful substitute as well.

**For added flavor, rub each slice with a cut garlic clove after toasting.

Apologies for the blurry photo. I was so hungry!

Note-
I had a nice chilled glass of a Semillon with this, but other balanced white wines would be fantastic with this dish as well; Pinot Grigio/Pinot Gris, Sauvingon Blanc and the like. Just don't choose anything too "oaky".

It's Too Darned Hot!

2011-07-22T10:02:00.009-04:00

This is the time of year that I tell myself, "Fall is the next season" to lend some sanity to a Summer in New England. The heat is stifling. Maybe if I had been raised in it I might have some form of acclimation. But truly, I've been a good boy and no one deserves this kind of weather. Why, when we are young do we not feel the fever of a burning July day (and night) so easily? Is it the amount of fat we've accumulated? The variety of medications our lovely doctors have prescribed to keep us going? Or, is it simply the age thing?
Whatever the reason, thoughts of braising, stews and hot soups fly right out the open window when I feel this way. Salads, fruit, cold soups, even simple bread and cheese with a cold, crisp hard cider or a cool glass of my favorite French Rosé wine from Provence all take precedence in my menu planning. The Early Girl tomatoes are showing up at the local farmer's markets, along with assorted heirlooms and they all beg "Pick me Joe! Pick me!"
This is the time of year that the tomato reigns absolutely supreme. The kings and queens of produce. No other time of year do they taste this good. No hot house or supposed "vine-ripened" imposters are even considered for the multitude of ideas that call. Tomato sandwiches on my good Irish Brown Bread spread simply with homemade mayonnaise. Nothing can beat the taste, bringing back memories of picking them in the garden as a little boy with a salt shaker tucked into the back pocket of my blue, railroad striped overalls.

Jewels waiting for their setting

Today, some beauties gave me that "come hither" look and demanded to be made into a cold soup. Something that I make when even a Gazpacho seems too much to think about preparing. My simple Chilled Tomato Soup with some grilled corn, feta and (feeling very French lately...more like wishing I were there lately) dotted with a basil pistou. I hope you like it and dream about the south of France with me and the sound of the cicadas ringing though the breeze while the dogs nap silently in the shade of an old pine tree. Thoughts and tastes like these get me through these sultry days. An Fall IS the next season.
Photos will follow. I promise.

Chilled Tomato Soup

with

Grilled Corn, Feta and Basil Pistou

1 Garlic clove, medium

¼ Cup Basil leaves

Sea Salt

¼ Cup, plus 2 Tbl. Extra Virgin Olive Oil

2 ears Corn

2 lb. Heirloom Tomatoes, perfectly ripe

3 Tbl. Lemon juice, fresh

Freshly ground black pepper

½ lb. Feta cheese, crumbled

Make the Pistou-

Place the garlic, basil, and a pinch of sea salt in a food processor and puree until smooth. Add 2 Tbs. of the olive oil and mix well. Let rest at room temperature for 1 hour.

Grill the Corn-

Heat a gas grill to high or prepare a hot charcoal fire. Cut off the tip of the corn’s husks (to make it easier to remove the husks once grilled). Grill the corn in the husk for 15 to 20 minutes, giving it a quarter turn every 5 minutes, keeping the grill covered (the kernels should be cooked but not charred). When it’s cool enough to handle, remove all of the husk and silk. With a sharp knife, cut the kernels off the cob. Set the kernels aside.

Make the Soup-

Core the tomatoes and cut them into chunks. Working in two batches, put half the tomatoes in a blender with 1 tablespoon of the lemon juice and ¼ cup of the olive oil in each batch. Season with a generous pinch of sea salt and black pepper, and blend on high speed until smooth. Strain through a fine sieve, pressing on any solids to get all of the liquid through the mesh. Taste and adjust the seasonings if necessary. Chill until ready to serve.

Mix the corn and feta together in a bowl. Divide the soup among four chilled soup bowls. Spoon the feta/corn mixture onto each serving. Stir the pistou and then drizzle it over the soup. Serve at once.

A Fresh & Light Supper or Lunch

Note-
Sometimes I can't resist putting thick slice of toasted leftover Italian bread rubbed with a cut clove of raw garlic in the bottom of the bowl and covering it with the soup for more substance.

Inspiration from a Smile for a Smile

2011-06-28T19:01:00.002-04:00

As I mentioned previously, there are people that pass through my life that, unbeknownst to them, that have given me so much inspiration. Years ago, while working in a store and setting up a display for a visiting chef who was teaching a class that evening, I had a passing, very brief conversation with him regarding his work. His passion was infectious. Mix that with his mischievious nature and I instantly connected to someone who thought as I did, that no matter what you did in life it had to be fun. He is certainly a man who takes risks in life, something that I have always believed in. By staying in the comfort of your own little world, you sometimes miss the big picture that is waiting and ready for you on the outside. David Lebovitz is part of my "Guardians of Kitchen Divinity" list. He has what I look for when I want inspiration, Passion. Incredibly creative and daring in the melange of flavors that he plays with and underneath it all the experience that I know I can trust. David now lives in Paris and writes a successful blog http://www.davidlebovitz.com/ and has serveral books that I continue to use and recommend to friends and students for their illumination.
The recipe I am posting today is inspired, not only from the current heat we are experiencing here in the Northeast, but by the man who stopped and spoke to me those many years ago, patting me on the head and calling me "JoJo" and sharing a moment and a smile. It's funny how a little thing so simple can make you feel so at ease with someone you hardly know. Irresistibly fresh strawberries, whether picked at a local farm or chosen with care from the market, are combined with a refreshing Summer Rosé wine, and then blended and frozen in an ice cream maker. Maybe making and sharing this recipe with your friends, family, loved ones, or all of the above, will continue that smile from David and the unknown encouragement that he gave me so many years ago.

Strawberry Rosé Sorbet

(Inspired by a recipe from David Lebovitz)

2 cups Rosé Wine

⅔ cup Sugar

3 cups Strawberries, fresh; stemmed and rough chopped

In a medium saucepan, bring the wine and sugar to a boil. Remove from the heat, add the strawberries, and let cool to room temperature. Pass the mixture through a food mill fitted with a fine disk, or purée in a blender or immersion blender as I did.

Chill the mixture thoroughly and then freeze it in your ice cream maker according to the manufacturer's instructions.

Why Rhode Island?

2011-06-21T19:55:00.004-04:00

I'm often asked why I chose Rhode Island to make my home. For me the answer is simple, but to those that live here and have never traveled far from these sandy shores and rocky hills it must be unfathomable to move here from what they perceive as "paradise", California.

Too many times I'm caught describing Rhode Island as the California that existed long ago, but not that long ago that I don't remember how magical it used to be. The valley I was born in was nicknamed, "The Valley of Heart's Delight". It was famous for it's orchards of Cherries, Apricots and Italian Plums. There were canning factories for the various fruits and vegetables that were grown there and shipped around the world. I remember going up in the hills in the Springtime and seeing nothing but a sea of pink and white blossoms coating the valley floor, like a fantasy land of pastel snow mixed with the fields of yellow mustard greens.

Santa Clara Valley with Spring Blossoms

The air was perfumed with those blossoms fresh with the dew speckled on them in the morning and drying with the sea breeze that would drift over from the nearby Santa Cruz mountains. My Mother would cart my Sister and I into her blue 1962 Chevy Nova and we'd sit in the front seat without seat belts, wondering what kind of candy we'd be able to pick out at the Saratoga Five and Dime store after we'd finished getting our groceries at the little Buy 'n Save market in town. The two butchers in the market were always laughing with their customers and one such morning I remember my Mother falling for their sign in the case next to the ground chuck that had scrawled on it, "For Sale - 1929 Henway - Mint Condition. Ask for Price". When she inquired to one of them, "What's the price for the 1929 Henway?" the butcher replied with a gleaming smile , "For you? About .39 cents a pound!" I still remember my Mother laughing at having been set-up by those two happy men. Neighbors would stop and say hello or wave from their cars as we continued on our errands. We'd run into our friends as they tagged along with their mothers and promising to meet in the orchards near the house so that we could play hide 'n seek, climbing within their leafy branches. The mother hen and her two chicks.
Fast forward almost 20 years and the mere hint of a booming computer industry starting to arise and wake up the world. Who knew? I remember everyone crowded around a new handheld calculator, as if that was the most ingenious thing invented next to the electric light. And soon, one by one the orchards began to disappear and another canning plant moved or closed. When you drove into those hills in the Spring to see the blossoms all you saw were the burgeoning rooftops of semi-conductor facilities and strip malls in what is now known as Silicon Valley. Neighbors didn't have time for one another. Their lives became busier. People moved because the little home they bought for next to nothing in the early '50's was now worth close to a million. No one knew who their neighbors were and mega "McMansions" sprung up overnight on postage stamp-sized lots. "I've had enough!" was the motto for those of us who missed those blossoms and sweet perfumes that they created.
My ancestors on my Mother's side settled in New England back in the 1600's. The stories from my Mother and Father of Aunt Doris and Uncle Bud on "The Farm" in Gorham, Maine were idyllic to me. Coming out here as a boy and picking blueberries for my Aunt's famous pie to go with our "lobstah suppah" in the Summer and ice skating on the river at night with our flares poked into the ice in Winter. Riding in the sleigh with Uncle Bud to go cut our Christmas tree down in the back woods was something that I longed for, hoping that a life such as that might still exist somewhere, anywhere. New England always felt like home. The accents, the food and most importantly the people. Dry. Down to earth. And if they didn't like you, you knew it. No questions about that, Ayuh.
Nine years now living in my adopted state without a regret. I have relived some of those childhood memories in the food that I've made and the generous and warm people I've met. I believe we have the best of all worlds here in Rhode Island. Near to beautiful beaches and plentiful seafood. Just enough snow (okay, maybe too much at times) to make a snowman and bring out your warmest sweaters. But the season that can't be beat anywhere else in the world, hands down, is Fall. The turning of the leaves. That first smell from your neighbors chimney scenting the air on a crisp evening while walking my dog Bear.

My Boy Bear

The farms loaded with their harvests and festivals with corn mazes filled with laughing, face-painted children on a sugar high of popcorn balls, candy corn and caramel apples. The pumpkins, chrysanthemums and scarecrows decorating the yards getting ready for Halloween and that most sacred of New England holidays, Thanksgiving. Memories recalled and memories created one by one.
Most importantly it is the people I meet in the classes I teach that have become friends and adopted family that keep me here. I have found that world that California threw away. And, almost every class that I teach, I mention how important it is to patronize our farmers, eat local produce in season and dine at our incredible restaurants, foregoing the cookie cutter, pre-made "glop" that is served up in corporate-driven food chains.

One of the many farms that still exist in Rhode Island

Today I went strawberry and pea picking at a local farm in Johnston and discovered that I'm not cut out for "hard", field labor and am much better suited to my own gentle garden and cooktop. But tomorrow I'll post an inspiring recipe to celebrate the first days of Summer that I hope you'll enjoy.
As good 'ole Dorothy said as she clicked her heels three times, "There's no place like home", and for me, my home is Rhode Island.

Ireland, Once A Week

2011-06-14T15:24:00.003-04:00

A finished loaf cooling

For me, making bread has to be the most "zen-like" experience that I can actualize in my little world. Taking flour, water, a leavening agent and creating something that I could live on indefinitely, in a myriad of ways, is probably the most purifying experience in the kitchen. It is so simple and rewarding, yet nothing evokes more incredulous "oohs and ahhs" as when you deliver a loaf of your own homemade bread to a friend.
I remember making basic white bread with my mother as a boy. Standing next to her on my little stool and mimicking her floured hands pushing and pulling the dough back and forth, slapping it onto our oak counter top in the pantry and the flour speckling the air. What fun it was to be able to punch something and get away with it in front of my mother, laughing together side by side. It is a memory I re-create once a week in my kitchen, although with an even more simple technique and recipe.
I discovered this bread maybe 15 years ago now, while viewing on a television program, someone who has become one of my "Guardians of Kitchen Divinity" (although she will probably never know it), Darina Allen of the Ballymaloe Cookery School in Ireland. Simplicity. Common Sense. Freshness. These are the words that I have learned from her and only hope to achieve and be able to convey to others. Everything that comes from her hands seems so easy and it is. That is the sign of someone I want to learn from and how they become one of the guardians I channel while in the kitchen.

(Whole Wheat & Unbleached Flour with Salt)

6 plain ingredients and a basic, no-fuss technique that creates a lovely bread for toast, a sandwich or just the perfect means to carry butter and jam. I make mine in a large bowl so as not to have flour all over my counter top.

(Proofed Yeast with Molasses and Water)

Everything is contained and tidy. A neat freak? No, just something I learned from Ms. Allen and never forgot. It helps to blend it all together into a somewhat orderly, yet shaggy mass.

Mixing by hand to get the right consistency

This is a bread that you can alter by adding a handful each of toasted walnuts and golden raisins for serving cheese upon, or a handful of oat bran and/or wheat germ for that ever-so-healthy toast and to balance out the misaligned sweet cream butter that you have slathered on top. It is a bread to experiment with if you have ever been afraid to attempt making your own bread. Dont' listen to those that say that bread is temperamental and difficult. Too often our lives are ruled by "Them". Be fearless in your kitchen. I'm giving you permission.

(My Lunch. Sauteed Red Peppers on top of sliced Cucumber wtih Tuna and Red Onions)

Irish Brown Bread

(Adapted from the Ballymaloe Recipe)

2 tsp. Dry Yeast

1½ Cups Warm Water (105-110ºF)

2 Tbl. Molasses

3 Cups Whole Wheat Flour

1 Cup All Purpose Flour

2 tsp. Salt

Butter an 8” x 4” (1 lb.) loaf pan. Preheat oven to 450°F.

Add the molasses to a bowl and mix well with the warm water. Sprinkle the yeast on top and mix well. Leave for 10 minutes in a draft-free spot until bubbly.

Mix the flours and salt in a large bowl. Make a well in the center and pour in the yeast mixture. Combine to form a thick batter for about 1 minute, until it begins to leave the sides of the bowl cleanly and forms a soft, sticky dough.

Place the dough in the prepared pan and cover with a dish towel. Proof until the dough is ½“ above the top of the pan or has doubled in size, about 25-30 minutes.

Bake in the preheated oven for 35 minutes and the loaf sounds hollow when tapped.

Let the loaf cool for 10 minutes before turning out onto a wire rack to complete the cooling process.

An Abundance of Blueberries

2011-06-10T20:44:00.003-04:00

Blueberries on my board

With the blueberries abundant, I can't resist buying several pints to play with. A few of these deep sapphire gems are made into Blueberry Chutneys to transform a humble roast chicken, duck or pork loin from the simple to simply stunning. Naturally, Blueberry Jams are put up as well to spread onto my toast and French toast. Some end up frozen on a parchment-lined baking sheet and then placed into zip-lock freezer bags once they are completely frozen for later uses, such as my Aunt Doris' Blueberry Pie that I tasted on my first trip to Maine as a boy. I tell this story often, but I can never pop a blueberry into my mouth without thinking of that time. With her down-home Maine accent she asked, "Joe, have another slice of blueberry pie?" "Oh, Aunt Doris I can't. I'm so full." Looking at me over the top of her horn-rimmed glasses, she said with that dry Maine sense of humor that I love so much, "Ayuh, watchin’ ya girlish figyah?" Aunt Doris and Blueberries always go together in my mind.

The following is a recipe I’ve adapted for all times of the year, but I especially like it in the Summer as a foil for berries and stone fruit of all kinds. Try it with lime zest and topped with grilled pineapple in the Summer with barely whipped lime-scented cream. Absolutely incredible and the possibilities are endless. It’s quite a simple cake and I’ve given you variety by adjusting the citrus to your liking at the moment.

The finished cake simply dusted

Lemon Olive Oil Cake

1½ Cups Unbleached All Purpose Flour

½ tsp. Baking Powder

½ tsp. Baking Soda

¼ tsp. Salt

3 Eggs, large

1 Cup Sugar

¾ Cup Plain Yoghurt

3 Lemons, zested*

¾ Cup Extra Virgin Olive Oil**

Preheat the oven to 325°F with the rack positioned in the center. Lightly oil a 9-inch springform pan and prepare a parchment circle for the bottom and oil that as well within the pan.

Stir the flour, baking powder, baking soda, and salt in a bowl.

With a stand mixer or hand mixer, beat eggs and sugar on high speed for 5 minutes or until pale yellow and thickened. Add yoghurt and zest and combine well. With mixer on medium speed, add oil in a quick, steady stream. Reduce speed to low and gradually add flour mixture just until blended. Be careful not to over beat the mixture or the cake will become “tough”.

Pour batter into the prepared pan. Bake until cake is golden and center springs back to the touch. The edges will have pulled away from pan, 40 to 45 minutes. When done, turn off the oven and open the door with the cake resting on the rack for 10 minutes. Remove from oven and continue cooling on a cake rack. Cool completely before serving.

Note –
* 2 Oranges may be substituted for the lemons. Alternately, 4 limes zested works well too or any combination.

Blueberries

with

Jam and Vin Santo

1 Pint of Blueberries, washed and picked over

1 Tbl. Jam or Preserves of Your Choice

1 Tbl. Vin Santo or Brandy

Toss all of the ingredients together and serve on top of slices of Lemon Olive Oil Cake, pound cake or with Greek yoghurt.

Simple Goodness

**Choose a mild tasting olive oil. Something delicate, velvety with a low acidity, like an Espuny from Spain. I buy mine at Williams-Sonoma.

In the Fields with my Father

2011-06-08T22:49:00.004-04:00

Why does food evoke so many memories? It must come from some primal sense aroused from ancestors past. Maybe those same relatives begging for the smell of that ragu that they passed down through the centuries. Or perhaps they are wanting for that tender bite from a scone warm from the oven slathered in that perfect sweet-cream butter with a sticky crown of homemade marmalade. My food memories seem to be protected by these ancestral souls that I'm made of. The bitter, the burnt and botched all seem to have disappeared only leaving room for those that are important for me to recall and savor. I've heard that it is impossible that I can remember my father's 40th birthday cake while lying on the counter as a baby during his party. No, I wasn't the next course, but it is the earliest I can recall and it is tied to food. Fast forward to a misty Sunday in Spring a few years later. Early Spring in California, sitting in the front seat next to my father in our Ford Country Squire station wagon and hearing him say, "This is a good spot". "Good for what?", I asked. (Little did I know that a lifetime later I'd recreate that same memory in the vineyards of Tuscany on a gravel road with my friends Pat and Wende and new friend Judy Witts-Francini, the original Divina Cucina from Florence,)

Mustard Greens in the distance of the Tuscan hills

But, as usual, I get carried onto another subject and digress. My father led me through what, in my 8 year old mind, were just wet weeds when he said to me, "These look good ". "What looks good?" "Mustard greens. See the ones that look like little stalks with no flowers yet? Those are the tender ones Joey. Those are the ones that aren't old enough to be bitter. We'll pick only those". And so we did. Two big, brown grocery bags full. Driving home with my father whistling and me wondering why we were going to eat "weeds" for our lunch. We pulled into the driveway and entered the house through the garage door, plopping our bounty onto the counter to show my mother all that we had picked. "Oh, you two have been busy", she said while washing them in the old aluminum colander with one of its three feet missing. The large soup pot was brought out onto the stove and coated with olive oil. Mom sliced some garlic and that unforgettable pungent scent began to fill the kitchen as it was tossed into its hot bath. Our "weeds" were added and the sound I now describe as the "crowds roaring with pleasure" began when their damp stalks hit that sizzling fury. The cover was added and a few moments later mom lifted the lid to give them a quick stir, anointing them with that touch that I still see when my hands stir a pot. "Almost ready" she would say as dad cut the Italian loaf that he had picked up earlier when he had tip-toed out of the house before anyone else was up to pick up some forbidden donuts for breakfast. The greens were now lifted from the bowl and as if by magic all that we had picked had dwindled down to just a few cups of wilted, dark green strands bathed in oil and speckled with slivers of garlic. We ate quietly sniffing from the steam rising from our bowls. The final reward being the soft bread soaking up the juices left behind.

I'm now brought back some forty-plus years and another lifetime later. Those memories of that Sunday ingrained and held so close and comforting within my head. Food for me is, not only trying to replicate those memories to some extent, but to create new ones that might be remembered and shared with a friend or two. It's the family that we've come from and the family we've collected along the way. In Italy, I learned a saying that describes what I feel when I'm laughing and eating with family or friends around the table, "A tavola non si invecchia" or loosely translated as, "At the table, no one ages". That's what food is about for me. That is why I chose to start my blog with a simple recipe from my life and that morning in the fields with my father.

Spring Arrives with Tender Greens

2011-06-07T21:48:00.001-04:00

Mustard Greens Sautéed with Garlic

½ lb. Mustard Greens*, tough stems and center ribs discarded

and leaves coarsely chopped (4 cups packed)

1 Tbl. Extra Virgin Olive Oil

2 Garlic cloves, finely chopped

¼ tsp. Red Chili Flakes

⅓ Cup Water

Blanch mustard greens in a 4-quart heavy pot of boiling salted water 1 minute. Drain greens in a colander and return pot to burner over medium high heat.

Add oil to the pot and when it begins to shimmer add the garlic and chili flakes. Stir until the garlic begins to turn golden, about 30 seconds. Add greens and water and simmer, partially covered, stirring occasionally, until tender, 5 to 6 minutes. Season with salt and pepper.

*Note – If using young, tender greens there is no need to blanch. Broccoli Rabe, Collard Greens or any other greens may be cooked in the same manner.

Spring Vegetables Come Forth

2011-06-07T21:39:00.001-04:00

“It's so beautifully arranged on the plate - you know someone's fingers have been all over it”. ~Julia Child

I knew that quote would bring a smile out, but when you think of it truer words were never spoken. There’s too much fussiness in food when you go out to eat and those that try to replicate that fussiness at home only set themselves up for disaster and disappointment. There is absolutely nothing better than Fresh, Local, Healthy, Well-Prepared food that is shared with family or friends without someone’s fingers all over it and the only judgment from it all is whether to have a second helping or “well, maybe just a little bit more”. Spring begins with the emergence of the vegetable kingdom coming to life in preparation for the Summer onslaught. The beginnings of a bounty filled with all of the freshness and flavors peeking through the soil begging for something new and different to exhibit their tastiness. Or, the familiar and comforting simple pat of sweet-cream butter sliding down into a warm pool mingling with the crunch of a fine flaked salt. Peas will be eaten raw, in salads, or cooked with herbs and greens. Asparagus asserting their place on the plate in a multitude of dishes, whether lightly bathed in a new sauce, steamed with a twist of a blood orange or covered with a delicately poached egg accented with crushed pink peppercorns. Lettuce and Spinach are waiting to be dressed in the latest and greatest from those fashionable New England cooks so handy with their imaginations fresh from the farm. And so they shall.