Family barbeques in my family have always been a huge affair, but not in the size of the guest list or scope of planning, like one might assume.  In fact, there was never more than 14 or 16 of us (a relatively small number for a Croatian family) and it was always a casual affair that took place poolside at my grandparents’ house.  But you would think my grandmother was hosting a family reunion of 50 people with the sheer volume of food that covered the table!  She would bring out dish after dish, meat after meat, salad after salad.  I remember my parents, aunts and uncles rolling their eyes and groaning in anticipation of all the pain they would endure after the gorge.

Us kids, our eyes just grew wider and wider with every new addition to the table: pork chops, steak, chicken, maybe even a leg of lamb; all the major animals across the table.  Then there were the sides.  If you had every animal for the lunch then you needed every carb to go along with it.  Pasta salad, baked potatoes, rice, potato salad, even though there were already baked potatoes on the menu you needed potato salad because it was a barbecue and they were “different” from baked potatoes.  But wait there’s more!  After all of this there were still the vegetable salads, the coleslaw, tomato salad, green salad and my favourite, the cucumber salad.

Even though “the” cucumber salad is just a salad, I can honestly say that it was probably the one dish that I looked forward to the most at these family gatherings.  There’s just something about the cool creaminess of sour cream and cucumbers that go so well together.  Or the little bursts of cheese curds from the cottage cheese, scattered throughout, giving this salad its unique texture.  Then there’s the runny, creamy dressing that pools all over your plate, blanketing everything in a sour cream sauce.  If you’re one of those people who can’t stand if the food on your plate touches, then may I suggest a side plate for this salad.  But if you’re a sour cream fiend like me, and have been known to eat it like yogurt out of the container, then a little creamy sauce with your grilled pork chops will be a welcomed addition to your plate any day of the week.

I have a very special announcement that I will share with you in my next post; and no it won’t be three or four weeks from now – like the length of time it took me to post this recipe – but it will explain why I’ve been slacking with my posts this summer.  So stay tuned and stick with me; it’s something I’m really excited about and I hope you all will share in my excitement too.

Flashback from last year: Stuffed Peppers (Punjene Paprike)

Creamy Cucumber Salad (Krastavac Salata)

The addition of cottage cheese may be new to some of you who know this salad well.  I’m not sure if this is a regional thing, or something my grandmother added on her own – she’s been known to add sometimes ingenious, sometimes questionable additions to traditional recipes (i.e. ingenious, a few duck bones, wings, neck, etc. to her juha – Sunday Soup – to make it the best tasting juha ever, or questionable, adding spoonfuls of plum jam to cheese strudel, not a particular favourite of mine).  In any case, this is a very tasty addition indeed and deserves a test drive in the kitchen.

I used a mandolin to slice the cucumbers.  Some like this salad with cucumber slices that are a bit thicker.  You decide on what you like best.  In the end, you don’t want thick chunks of cucumber; that will make a different salad entirely.  Allowing the cucumbers to drain before dressing the salad is important, so make sure to leave yourself some time for that.  If you don’t have time to chill the salad before serving that;s ok, but know that this is one of those dishes that tastes so much better after a little marinating in the ice box.

Serves 4 to 6 as a side salad.

2 large cucumbers, peeled and sliced as thinly as possible

1 clove garlic, minced

1/4 cottage cheese

1/4 sour cream

1 tablespoon vegetable oil

1/2 tablespoon (or to taste) white vinegar

Salt

Paprika for garnish

Prepare cucumbers by peeling them and slicing them as thin as possible, using a mandolin or sharp knife.  Place the cucumber slices in a colander and sprinkle with 1 teaspoon of salt.  Toss and set aside to drain for 15 minutes.  After 15 minutes, grab a handful of cucumber slices and squeeze out any extra moisture.  Place the slices in a bowl and combine with the garlic, cottage cheese, sour cream, oil and vinegar.  Smooth out the top and sprinkle with paprika to garnish the dish.  Chill in the refrigerator for at least 20 minutes before serving.

Last weekend my husband and I, together with another couple, stayed at a cottage in Muskoka.  Talk about the quintessential Canadian experience.  You don’t get much more Canuck-y than swimming in a lake, having your morning coffee out on the dock, fishing until dusk and sitting around a camp fire eating s’mores.  Ok, so we didn’t do the latter.  We did eat s’mores, but we made them over the barbeque in a matter of ten minutes because the bugs were horrendous and no amount of “deep woods” bug spray could keep these blood suckers at bay.  Bugs or no bugs, it was a great weekend nonetheless.  Relaxing, great weather, beautiful scenery, fresh air and great company – who could ask for anything more?

The stillness of the morning.

Cottage Country in Ontario is something special.  If you’re one of the lucky ones with a family cottage, yearly renters of special places by the lake, the RVers or the campers, you know what I’m talking about.  There’s just something so liberating and soul soothing about hopping in the car and heading up to the cottage for the weekend.  Forget about the office, the cleaning can wait until Monday and so what if the 401 is a parking lot.  You’re going to the cottage!!  It’s the one place where you go from wearing bathing suits on the dock by day, to heavy socks, long pants and two sweaters, bundled around the campfire by night.  Where everyone waves hello to one another while cruising the lakes, even if they’re being thrown around on tubes behind speeding boats.  It’s where your days are planned around swimming, fishing, eating and sleeping, and not work, little Johnny’s soccer practice, that horrid house of pain, also known as the gym and trying to keep the house in a semi-livable state.

I know there are a few of you out there reading this right now thinking to yourselves, forget the cottage, I want to spend my summers by the sea, or gallivanting across Europe or in Porta Backyarda! These are all lovely places that I too cherish and relish vacationing in, except for Porta Backyarda.  I love my backyard and in fact, I’m writing from our little kafić or café, (that’s what my husband calls the bistro set in the corner of our patio) nestled under the shade of a large Beech tree.  I guess I just don’t understand those people who put in a pool as an excuse to never have to leave their backyard in the summer.  Your backyard is your backyard and not the Caribbean, Mediterranean or Adriatic, so if your healthy, able and have the financial means to do so, go buy a plane ticket and see the world!

On the same note, Muskoka, the Kawarthas and Georgian Bay are not Varadero, Dubrovnik or the Amalfi coast, but apples aren’t oranges either.  All of these places are beautiful and special in their own right and when it comes to Cottage Country there’s just something so grounding, so intrinsic, so comforting and just so Canadian about packing up the car and making your way up to the lake.

You’ll notice the recipe I have for you today really isn’t a recipe at all.  Well there’s a recipe for the sauce, and I gave you a link to a recipe on how to make your own fresh ricotta, if you choose to do so – which I highly recommend you do – but other than a few herbs and a little lemon zest for the cheese filling, that’s all I really have in terms of a recipe for you.  If you’re anything like me, you don’t want to slave over a hot stove on a hot day, double checking your ingredients.  You want to spend as little time as possible in the kitchen and all of your time enjoying the summer weather.

Summer is made for casual cooking; light, effortless, big on flavour but not on work, kinds of dishes.  Even the recipe for homemade ricotta cheese is easy as pie – way easier actually, because anyone who has ever made pie knows it is not the easiest thing to make!  For the ricotta, all it takes is some warm milk and cream, lemon juice, cheese cloth and a sieve, that’s it!  Since making your own rich and creamy, better than any store-bought ricotta is so simple, I had to couple it with an equally delicious and effortless recipe for tomato sauce – Marcella Hazan’s tomato sauce with onion and butter.  Two easy and delectable recipes now only need some zucchini, which you’ll have no trouble finding this time of year.  But if you do, let me know, I have a garden full of them!

Flashback from last year: One Zucchini Three Ways Part II:  Braised Zucchini and Potatoes with Paprika

Zucchini Involtini

For this recipe you will want to choose zucchini that are a bit larger than the average grocery store size.  If you grow zucchini or buy it from the farmers’ market, look for larger ones that are about a foot long and two and half inches in diameter.  If small zucchini is all you can find, that’s cool, you’ll just need more of them; six to eight should do.  It’s very important not to cut the zucchini too thin, as it will shrink and soften as its cooking and will make for a very sloppy involtini.  A quarter of an inch should do it.

When making the ricotta, Deb from Smitten Kitchen suggests to use the variation with less cream, as it makes for a slightly drier ricotta, perfect for pastas.  If you make the creamier variety, add a beaten egg to the mixture.  The egg will keep the cheese together and prevent it from melting out of the zucchini roll ups.

Serves 3 generously, 4 modestly as a main course

For the Ricotta click here:  Rick Homemade Ricotta

For the filling add to the homemade ricotta, 1/4 cup freshly grated Parmigiano Reggiano, 1 egg beaten (optional, see note above) zest of half a lemon, 6 finely chopped basil leaves and salt and pepper to taste.  Stir well to combine.  If you’re using store bought ricotta, choose the extra smooth variety.  You’ll need the entire container, but not the egg; you can leave that out.

For the Sauce click here:  Tomato Sauce with Onion and Butter

For the Zucchini:

3 zucchini (1 foot in length, 2 ½ inches in diameter) or 6 to 8 smaller zucchini

Salt and pepper

Olive oil

Trim both ends of the zucchini.  Standing the zucchini up on its wider end.  Make the first cut to shave off the roundness from the first side of the zucchini.  Discard the scraps.  Repeat this on the other side so that when you look at the zucchini standing up, the right and left side of it should no longer be rounded.  Begin slicing the zucchini lengthwise in 1/4 inch slices.  Repeat this process with the rest of the zucchini.  Lay the zucchini out in a single layer and sprinkle both sides with salt.  Set aside for 30 minutes to allow the salt to extract the extra moisture from the zucchini.

Preheat oven to 400 degrees farenheit.  Cover a baking sheet (or two) with parchment paper, pat down the zucchini with a paper towel to dry, and lay out the slices in a single layer.  Drizzle with a little olive oil, season with pepper and bake for 20 minutes, flipping once at the half-way mark.

Once the zucchini is done baking, take a heat proof, shallow casserole dish and spoon a thin layer of sauce on the bottom.  Spoon one large teaspoon of the filling on the end of the zucchini slice and carefully roll up.  Place in the sauce and repeat until you have used up all of the slices.  Top the involtini with the rest of the tomato sauce and some more freshly grated Parmigiano Reggiano.  Bake in a 400 degree farenheit oven for 15 to 20 minutes, or until the sauce is bubbly.  Serve immediately.

Here at The Suburban Peasant, I pride myself on authentic ethnic dishes.  Whether it’s Croatian, Italian, Spanish or Greek, I really strive to ensure that each recipe I post is an accurate representation of what most people would identify with.  That said, authenticity is also very subjective.  Many of the recipes I post everyone has tried at one time in their lives.  They might have had it this way or that, but ultimately, the majority of my readers have had some variation of these dishes.  These recipes are also the kind people have intimate connections to.  Meals they remember savouring around holiday tables or a dessert that has long passed with a dearly departed relative.  So, chartering into these very cherished and personal waters can be tricky, as everyone remembers the way they like a particular dish the best.

Knowing this, the underpinnings of my authentic recipes rely on ingredients and respect for food.  When talking about ingredients I am all about fresh meats and produce.  You won’t find ready-made or processed short cuts in my recipes; why?  Because that’s not the way things were done in the past.  These recipes come from another time, a time where the act of preparing a meal was a cherished and valued responsibility in the home.  Where we cooked with what the seasons’ bounty offered and techniques were learned, practiced and passed on.

This is all stuff you’ve heard from me before, so why am I talking about it again?  Because this recipe for enchiladas isn’t necessarily authentically Mexican, but it does hold true to my philosophy of the best ingredients and a respect for the dish.  Yes, they have flour tortillas, rather than corn (to be honest with you I’ve never developed a taste for corn tortillas).  I don’t fry the tortillas and the stuffing isn’t just chicken, but lots of fresh bell peppers, corn and chiles for heat.  In reality my enchiladas are more Tex-Mex than Mexican, but they’re delicious nonetheless.  Packed full with fresh ingredients, bold flavour and lots of spice, it’s no wonder these have become such a hit in my house.  My husband always sprouts a huge smile when I place a dish of hot and cheesy enchiladas on the table.  And the number of requests I had asking me for this recipe made me realize it was about time to share it with you.  So here it is.  Give it a try, relish in the flavours and enjoy!

Flashback from last year:  One Zucchini Three Ways – Part I:  Crispy Parmesan Zucchini

Ana’s Enchiladas

You’re pretty much guaranteed to have leftover enchilada sauce with this recipe.  No biggie, it freezes very well and will save you a few extra steps when you decide to make enchiladas again in the future!

Serves 4 to 6

Chicken Part I

3 boneless, skinless chicken breasts, or 6 boneless, skinless chicken thighs, or a combination of both

1 tablespoon chili powder

1/2 tablespoon cumin

2 teaspoons chipotle powder

1 tablespoon salt

Freshly ground black pepper

1/4 cup chopped cilantro

Zest and juice of 2 limes

In a resealable container or ziplock bag, drizzle a little olive oil over the chicken and add all of the spices and seasoning, massaging it into the meat.  Add the cilantro, lime zest and juice.  Mix everything around well and refrigerate overnight, or for a minimum of 1 hour and up to 24 hours.

Enchilada Sauce (From Emeril Lagasse’s “Easy Enchilada Sauce”)

3 tablespoons vegetable oil

1 tablespoon flour

1/4 cup chili powder

2 cups chicken stock

1 can tomato paste

1 teaspoon dried oregano

1 teaspoon ground cumin

1/2 teaspoon salt

In a saucepan, heat oil over medium high heat.  When hot add the flour and chili powder to make a roux.  Cook for 30 seconds.  Pour in the chicken stock.  Add in the tomato paste, oregano, cumin and salt and mix well.  Allow the mixture to come to a boil.  The sauce should be smooth and not too thick.  Set aside.

Chicken Part II

3 tablespoons vegetable oil

1 large onion, chopped

1 chili or jalapeno, minced

2 cloves garlic, minced

1 or 2 bell peppers (red, orange or yellow preferably)

1 can whole tomatoes, chopped plus half of the juice

2 cups fresh or frozen corn

1 tablespoon chili powder

2 teaspoons cumin

Salt and pepper to taste

12 6” flour tortillas

2 cups shredded cheddar or Monterey jack cheese

3 scallions, chopped

In a large pan that can accommodate all of the chicken, heat the oil until hot.  Sear the chicken on all sides until golden brown.  The chicken does not have to be cooked through at this point, as it will continue cooking later.

Remove the chicken and set aside.  In the same pan, add a little more oil if necessary and saute the onions and chili until the onions are translucent.  Toss in the garlic and bell peppers and cook for 3 minutes.  Add the chopped, whole tomatoes and half of the juice and bring to a simmer.  Meanwhile, slice the chicken and return to the pot.  Cover and simmer for 10 minutes.  After 10 minutes, remove the lid to allow some of the excess liquid to evaporate and continue to cook for another 10 minutes.  Add the corn, chili powder, cumin and taste for seasoning, adjusting with salt and pepper if necessary.  If at any time you feel that the chicken mixture is too dry, feel free to add a little of the reserved tomato juice.

Preheat an oven to 400 degrees farenheit.  In a baking dish (you may need two to accommodate all the enchiladas in a single layer) spread some of the enchilada sauce that you prepared earlier.  To assemble the enchiladas, place a tortilla on a clean plate and spoon about 1/2 cup of the stuffing in the centre of the tortilla, roll it up and place seam side down, in a single layer into the prepared baking dish.  Repeat this process until you have used up all of your tortillas and/or stuffing.

Top the enchiladas with the sauce, covering as much of the surface as possible and bake for 20 minutes.  After 20 minutes, sprinkle the top with shredded cheese and continue to bake for another 5 minutes or until the cheese is bubbly.  Serve right out of the pan, topped with chopped scallions and lots of sour cream.

My husband and I are approaching our fourth wedding anniversary.  I loved every moment of our wedding day.  There isn’t a single thing I would’ve changed, but boy am I glad I never have to do that again!  The one thing I do wish we could relive is our honeymoon.  In fact, I find myself flipping through pictures of our time in Greece, more often than our wedding album.  The truth is, the significance of a wedding can get lost in the all the planning and hoopla, and sometimes we lose sight of the what really is important – the bride and groom.  Parents expect to carry on certain traditions and cultural values that may be different from what you envisioned for your day.  Decor, food and entertainment blow budgets and heightens anxiety.  And that overwhelming, but completely unnecessary need of having to top that last extravaganza of a wedding you attended, is a nagging and expensive phenomenon, that every bride tries to apply rationale to, but inevitably succumbs to its grip.

Honeymoons though, they’re a completely different bird.  Honeymoons really are for the new husband and wife.  Your parents won’t disown you if you don’t pick a destination of their choosing.  You plan what you can afford, without the worry of pleasing guests, because there are none!  And the best thing of all – it’s just the two of you, on vacation, enjoying the beginning of your new life together.

Our honeymoon in Greece was the perfect combination of relaxation and cultural experiences.  It took us from the metropolis and ruins in Athens to the serenity and sparkling blue waters of the Aegean and its spectacular islands.  We saw the Acropolis and Zeus’ Temple.  Cruised to the island of windswept Mykanos, with it’s breath taking views of white washed facades and humble windmills.  Took in the medieval architecture and history on Rhodes.  Stayed in the lap of luxury in a resort on Crete. Climbed a volcano and swam on beaches of red, white and black sand on Santorini.  We drank Ouzo (not my favourite), Raki (again, not a personal preference) and great Greek wines (much better).  I found a favourite olive oil that I use to this day and we ate some fantastic Greek food.

Like much of mediterranean cuisine, Greek food is simple food made with the best ingredients.  It’s flavourful with hints of cinnamon, lots of oregano, fresh and zesty with lemon and tons of beautiful olive oil.  Greek salad or “farmer’s salad”, as it is called there, doesn’t have a trace of iceberg lettuce, but just large slices of ripe tomatoes, cucumbers, bell peppers and red onion, topped with huge chunks of feat, not the cheap crumbled substitues.  Plump, deep purple kalamata olives are everywhere and eating baklava for desert everynight makes you feel like you’ve died and gone to heaven over and over again.

When I found this recipe for souvlaki in Canadian House and Home magazine a couple of years ago, I knew I found a recipe that could emulate the souvlaki we had in Greece.  The buttermilk brine may not be authentically Greek, but the flavours of lemon, garlic and oregano practically scream Greece.  The brine not only flavours the meat deeply, but tenderizes it and ensures every morsel is juicy when it leaves the grill.  The feta drizzle, with fragrant olive oil, lemon and fresh herbs amps up the lovely flavours from the marinating stage, and adds a freshness to the chicken that makes the whole dish pop.  With a generous serving of cool tzatziki and warm pita bread, all this dish needs is a bowl of farmer’s salad and a big glass of red wine.  Yassas!    

Zeus’ Temple amid a smoke filled sky. Greece suffered from devestating wild fires that year.

Mykanos

Kushadasi, Turkey – The amphitheatre in the ancient city of Ephesus, where St. Paul preached to the Ephesians.

Our neighbour George in Santorini. He had a habit of awaking us from our afternoon siestas with his braying.

All the tourists awaiting Ios’ famous sunset.

Sun setting on Ios, Santorini.

Flashback from last year: Strawberry Shortcakes

Buttermilk Chicken Souvlaki with Lemony Feta Drizzle and Tzatziki 

My favourite olive oil is Greek olive oil.  I know, the Italians say they have the best and the Spanish say their’s is the best, but Sitia olive oil from Greece is the tastiest, fruitiest and most flavourful I’ve had.  In Canada, this brand is marketed as Christine Cushing’s Bold Extra Virgin Olive Oil and can be found in most Loblaw’s stores.  I first bought this oil is Greece and was told by the man who sold it to me that it is cold pressed, has a very low acidity and had won numerous awards.  I bought a huge bottle of it, prayed it wouldn’t be confiscated, and made it last as long as possible.  But like all good things, my bottle of olive oil came to an end and I was left searching for an alternative.  After doing a little research I found that Christine Cushing imports it under her name and I’ve been buying it ever since.  I do not heat this olive oil; it’s too good for that.  I use it to dress plates, make vinaigrettes and add flavour to finished dishes.  You would be surprised as to how much oomph it lends!

For the tzatziki I prefer to strain my own yogurt.  I have tried Oikos and don’t find it stands up to the super thick yogurt I had in Greece.  My grocery store doesn’t carry Chobani yet, so I haven’t tried that one.  Straining it yourself not only gives you one heck of a thick yogurt, but it’s also a lot cheaper.  Greek yogurt can be quite expensive, so by buying a regular yogurt and straining it overnight, you’ll have something extra thick and creamy, for a fraction of the cost.  To strain yogurt simply cover a sieve with two or three paper towels, pour in your yogurt and leave overnight.

Note:  If doubling the amount of meat for this recipe, you do not need to double the marinade.  The amount shown here is plenty.

Recipe adapted from “Buttermilk-Garlic Chicken Kebabs” Canadian House and Home Magazine

Serves 4

Chicken Souvlaki:

4 boneless, skinlees chicken breasts, or 8 boneless, skinless chicken thighs, or a combination of both

2 cups buttermilk

1 onion, coarsely chopped

5 cloves garlic, coarsely chopped

2 tablespoons dried oregano or 1/4 chopped fresh

Juice and zest of 1 lemon

1 1/2 tablespoons sea salt

Black pepper to taste

Tzatziki

1 750g container plain yogurt, strained overnight, or 250g of Greek style yogurt.

1/2 cucumber grated

1 clove garlic minced

Juice of 1/2 a lemon

2 tablespoons extra virgin olive oil, plus more for drizzling

Lemony Feta Drizzle

1 clove garlic, minced

handful fresh oregano chopped

Juice of 1/2 a lemon

1/4 crumbled feta

1/4 to 1/2 cup extra virgin olive oil

Salt and pepper to taste

For the Souvlaki:

Cut each breast and/or thigh into 2 inch chunks.  Combine buttermilk, onion, garlic, oregano, lemon juice and zest, salt and pepper in a bowl or large ziplock bag.  Marinate overnight, up to 24 hours.

Soak 8 to 10 skewers in water for 30 minutes.  Preheat barbecue to high.  Thread 6 to 8 chicken pieces on a skewer, keeping them close together.  Grease the grill with oil and place the skewers on it.  Reduce the heat to medium-low and close the lid.  Cook for 15 minutes, turning once or twice until cooked through.  While hot, drizzle with the vinaigrette and serve with warmed pita bread and tzatziki.

Strain the yogurt as described above, or if using Greek style yogurt, skip this step.  In a bowl, combine the minced garlic with the lemon juice and set aside while you grate the cucumber.  The acidity of the lemon will mellow the pungent garlic.  Gently squeeze some of the extra moisture out of the grated cucumbers and add to the garlic and lemon juice.  Stir in the yogurt and olive oil.  Season with salt and pepper and taste.  If you find it needs more acid, add more lemon juice.  If it needs more body or it is too tangy, add a little more olive oil.  Refrigerate until ready to serve.  Upon serving, drizzle with a little bit of olive oil.

For the Feta Drizzle:

In a small bowl combine the garlic, oregano, lemon juice and feta.  Add enough olive oil to make a chunky vinaigrette.  Season with salt and pepper and set aside.

]]> https://thesuburbanpeasant.wordpress.com/2013/07/04/buttermilk-chicken-souvlaki-with-lemony-feta-drizzle-and-tzatziki/feed/ 3 2573 IMG_9816 thesuburbanpeasant IMG_9810 IMG_9739 IMG_9751 IMG_9776 IMG_9783 IMG_9795 IMG_9801 IMG_9780 IMG_9807 IMG_9810 Zeus' Temple amid a smoke filled sky. Greece suffered from devestating wild fires that year. Mykanos IMG_1610 All the tourists awaiting Ios' famous sunset. Sun setting on Ios, Santorini. IMG_1877 https://thesuburbanpeasant.wordpress.com/2013/06/24/baby-butter-leaf-salad-with-warm-sour-cream-dressing-polivka/ https://thesuburbanpeasant.wordpress.com/2013/06/24/baby-butter-leaf-salad-with-warm-sour-cream-dressing-polivka/#comments Mon, 24 Jun 2013 14:51:58 +0000 http://thesuburbanpeasant.com/?p=2550 A lovely early summer salad, with tender, butter leaves and a warm sour cream dressing that leaves you begging for more.

Hi there.  Remember me?  It’s been a while; almost three months.  Quite a long time in the cyber world/24-hour-news-cycle society we live in. Where celebrity gossip, political smear campaigns and breaking news stories change as quickly as Taylor Swift’s boyfriends.  Some of you have been asking where I’ve gone to.  Whether or not I would be coming back and what I have been cooking lately.  It’s nice to know I’ve been missed.

Those of you who follow me on Facebook and Twitter might have also realized that I haven’t been the frequent updater and tweeter you’ve come to know me as.  A couple of months ago I decided I needed a break from all things that weren’t related to daily necessities like work, personal hygiene, relaxation, socializing and exercise.  Things got a little hairy – work was stressful, I started to take on more cake orders than I could handle, I became a very cranky wife to my poor, unassuming husband, and writing my blog was no longer much fun. I realized I needed to slow down, take better care of myself, and decided to take a break from my blog and all social media associated with it.

For a while there, my blog became more of chore than the creative outlet it once was.  On its own, I enjoy the artistic process and feel a real sense of accomplishment when I get positive feedback from my readers.  But since I do work full-time, have a second part-time job and bake cakes on top of all that, I quickly burnt myself out.

There is so much involved in putting up a post, and when you’re already going a hundred miles an hour, it can all be very daunting.  It all begins with the recipe development/testing.  I either develop my own recipes or tweak published ones until just right.  Next comes the photo shoot.  Some bloggers cook a dish with the sole purpose of writing the post.  Their plates are perfectly assembled and photos expertly composed.  I squeeze photo shoots into my dinner preparation once a week.  Many photos have been shot while I prepare dinner for my husband and I after a long day at work.

Following the photo shoot is my writing component.  This piece is the most time-consuming.  My essays are usually quite long – much longer than the recommended length for posts to prevent reader boredom – and take me anywhere from two to four hours to brainstorm, write and edit.  Writing is followed up with the photo selection.  I hardly do any editing at all, but I do spend at least a half an hour to one hour, rifling through the dozens upon dozens of pictures I take a session; sometimes agonizing over eight or so different pictures of the same bowl of flour, trying to determine which has the best light, sharpest focus and finding the one that simply doesn’t look crooked (a lot harder to pull off than you think).  Finally, there’s the social media aspect of it all – promoting each post on Facebook and Twitter to entice new and current readers.  Add the time I search the web and others blogs to share with you information that I find fresh, interesting and fun, and you have a full-time job in of itself.  No wonder, successful bloggers quit their day jobs and focus on their blogs around-the-clock!

I knew I would eventually come back to blogging, but I promised to give myself as much time as I needed. I started to feel the itch last week as I started to cook some of my favourite spring and summer dishes.  I kept thinking about all of you and how much you all would enjoy my recipe for buttermilk brine chicken souvlaki (stay tuned).  I remembered the countless requests for my enchilada recipe (it’s coming), and knew you too would swoon once you took a bite of my favourite early summer salad.  The fact of the matter is I love cooking, I gain a huge satisfaction from writing and have really taken a liking to photography.  These crafts have become a part of who I am, fulfills my creative drive, and at least I hope, gives a little back to you, my readers.

Flashback from last year:  Asparagus, Vidalia Onion and Potato Tart

Baby Butter Leaf Salad with Warm Sour Cream Dressing (Polivka)

If you’re lucky enough to have a garden or know someone with a garden, or even know of someone with a garden, then I suggest it’s time to go make friends with them, because you definitely want to try this salad out.  This is hands down my favourite salad.  Sure it tastes divine, but I have to admit I think I love the feeling it gives me every time I eat it even more.  I bet you never thought you’d get that warm and fuzzy filling by eating a salad?  But if you’re like me and you grew up eating this as a child, you’ll understand why I have elevated this salad to a comfort dish cult classic.

Growing up, we always called this salad, salad with sour cream.  Upon meeting my husband I learned his family actually had a name for my favourite salad – polivka (po-leev-ka).  For the longest time I couldn’t remember the proper way to say it.  You see, my husband’s family comes from a region with a very distinct dialect, that has different pronunciations for many words and completely different words for others all together!  So learning how to speak this dialect was like learning a new language for me.

A few years ago when making dinner, Nick asked me what was on the menu that night.  Knowing he loves the salad as much as I do, I proudly said proljevka, thinking that’s what he and his family call this salad.  Nick instantly starts howling.  I stare at him perplexed, not knowing what was so funny, until he slowly repeats to me what I just said, proljev-ka.  Proljev is the Croatian word for diarrhea.  Enough said.

In order to accomplish polivka nirvana you need two things.  First – and this is the tougher one out of the two due to sourcing – you need baby butter lettuce (also called boston or bibb lettuce).  The key is picking the lettuce before the leaves start to form into heads.  This practice is actually a practical one, and one that many gardeners employ, because by sporadically picking the lettuce leaves before they mature, you are actually giving the remaining clusters more room to grow and develop.  These baby leaves are so tender and buttery, and match so perfectly with the creamy texture of the sour cream, which is why, if you’ve ever had this salad, it was probably in the spring only.  Once the leaves start to develop into heads, the texture of the leaf changes and effectively changes the taste as well.

The second necessity for this recipe is sour cream.  Yes, a rather indulgent ingredient in terms of a salad, but well worth it if you’re only eating it a couple of times a year.  The other ingredients, a little oil to add extra body to the dressing and white vinegar for some acidity, are pantry staples.  The addition of smidgen of minced garlic and chives is optional.  Not everyone likes raw garlic in their salad, but I have to admit it’s big hit in my family.

Finally, the preparation of the dressing I have for you today is not the one I grew up with, but the way my mother in-law has always prepared it, and therefore, the true and only way according to my husband.  My mom would simply toss the salad with a couple of dollops of sour cream and sprinkles of oil and vinegar.  After a few minutes of tossing, the sour cream would break up and coat each and every leaf perfectly.  But with my mother in-law’s version, the sour cream, oil and vinegar are heated lightly until just melted and poured over the salad – hence the name polivka, which comes from the word prolit or polit which means to shed or to pour.  This too produces a lovely salad, and one that takes a lot less tossing to finish.

Serves 4 as a side salad

1 pound baby butter leaf lettuce, washed and dried thoroughly

1/2 clove finely minced garlic (optional)

1 tablespoon finely chopped chives (optional)

1/4 cup plus 2 tablespoons sour cream

2 tablespoons vegetable oil

1 tablespoon white vinegar

Salt to taste

In a small pot over medium heat, combine sour cream, oil and vinegar.  Stir until the mixture has just begun to thin and becomes pourbale.  Do not allow to boil.  Immediately pour over the washed and dried lettuce and if you choose, garlic and chives.  Season with salt and toss until lettuce is evenly coated.  Taste, and if necessary, add more salt and vinegar to suit your taste.  Serve right away, as the salad wilts quickly.

]]> https://thesuburbanpeasant.wordpress.com/2013/06/24/baby-butter-leaf-salad-with-warm-sour-cream-dressing-polivka/feed/ 4 2550 IMG_9852 thesuburbanpeasant IMG_9852 IMG_9822 IMG_9828 IMG_9834 IMG_9843 IMG_9851 https://thesuburbanpeasant.wordpress.com/2013/03/28/pinca-croatian-easter-bread/ https://thesuburbanpeasant.wordpress.com/2013/03/28/pinca-croatian-easter-bread/#comments Thu, 28 Mar 2013 20:31:39 +0000 http://thesuburbanpeasant.com/?p=2518 Pinca, a Croatian Easter Bread that hails from Dalmatia – full of buttery richness and fresh citrus notes.

Last year, I shared with you a variation of the traditional Easter bread my mom always made, Easter Bread Dolls, or Primorski Uskrsne Bebe.  It seemed fitting to choose this time-honoured recipe to share with you, for a couple of reasons.  It was the first Easter recipe I posted here on The Suburban Peasant and I wanted that recipe to communicate what Easter is to me and my family, but also because it was my first time celebrating Easter at home, in a long time.  Spending the last few years away from the traditions I grew up with made me nostalgic for those customs, and compelled me to share a recipe that truly represents Easter for me.  This year, I am hosting Easter, and since we’re breaking with tradition by having a new generation-er (me) cooking lunch, I thought I’d try my hand at a new Easter bread.

Me, cooking Easter lunch is kind of a big deal.  I’ve cooked for my family and extended family many times before, but this is the first time I am going to cook for them for a major holiday.  In reality, it’s no different from making Sunday lunch or when I cooked for my husband’s 30th birthday, which was almost double the amount of people I am cooking for on Sunday.  However, on a more profound level, one that examines the significance of such family gatherings and how time, relationships, and plain old growing up really do change things, no matter how hard we try, it’s difficult to part with those traditions we have become so accustomed to.

I don’t mean to get all philosophical here, but I think you know what I’m talking about.  I’m sure at one time or another, you mourned the way things use to be.  If you’re a parent of grown kids or a grandparent with grown grandchildren, letting go of your child’s youth, and the good times had that went along with it, can be a bitter pill to swallow.  Just yesterday, I called my grandmother to wish her a happy birthday and she commented on how she wishes things were like they use to be.  When we were all together, squished around the table in their basement, swapping Easter eggs and slurping soup with paper napkins tied around our necks as makeshift bibs.  Those were the days.  But those days have long since come and gone, and while I am sure there will be many more feasts around Baka’s table or my mom’s table, I am honoured to keep the tradition – as different it may turn out to be – alive.

So, since I’m stirring things up by hosting Easter this year, I thought why not try a new Easter bread.  In reality, Pinca (peen-tza) isn’t new at all, it’s just new to me.  Also, it’s not all that different from the recipe I grew up with, except that it includes the additions of lemon and orange zest, as well as rum, and if you like, raisins.  Pinca is the Dalmatian version of my go to recipe.  Those Dalmatians with their warm climate, soothing sea, sunny dispositions and laid back attitudes, put a little spin on their Easter bread to reflect the uniqueness of their land – citrus!  The addition of flavourings to the bread make it so fragrant and really irresistible to eat.  Similar to challah, Pinca is dense and buttery, with an almost cake-like texture that makes it the perfect celebratory loaf, after a long 40 days of Lent.

Flashback from last year: Goulash 

Pinca (Croatian Easter Bread) 

This recipe makes two loaves of bread, but it can be easily halved to make one.  Leftovers, if there are any, would make fantastic french toast.  It’s also just as delicious lightly toasted and smeared with jam for breakfast.

400 mL luke warm milk

2 packages (16 g) active dry yeast

1 teaspoon sugar

7 cups flour

1 1/2 cups sugar

1 package vanilla sugar

2 teaspoons salt

zest of 1 lemon and 1 orange

1 cup melted butter

3 egg yolks, lightly beaten (1 egg white reserved for the egg wash)

1 tablespoon rum

1 tablespoon šljivovica (plum brandy) or brandy

Proof the yeast in the luke warm milk and 1 teaspoon of sugar for 10 to 15 minutes, or until it has doubled in volume.

Meanwhile, in a stand mixer with the dough hook attachment on, combine the flour, sugar, vanilla sugar, salt and zests.  Mix on low to combine.

Create a well in the dry ingredients and pour in the milk and yeast mixture, the egg yolks, melted butter, rum and šljivovica.  Turn the mixer on to low and slowly combine.  When the ingredients begin to come together, turn the mixer up to medium high and knead for 5 minutes.  After 5 minutes check to see the progress.  Dough should be very smooth and only slightly sticky.  If it it’s still fairly wet, add a little flour, a tablespoon at a time, and continue mixing until smooth.  Remove the dough from the bowl and on a lightly floured surface, knead 10 to 15 times, just enough to make a smooth mass.  Lightly flour the dough and place in a clean bowl, covered with a tea towel, and set in a warm, draftless area of your kitchen.  Leave it to rise for 4 hours, or until it has doubled in volume.

After 4 hours, punch the dough to deflate it, and turn it out onto a lightly floured surface.  Knead briefly (4 or 5 times) and cut the dough into two equal halves.  Knead each half 3 or 4 times to make a smooth, round ball and place each on its own baking sheet, lined with parchment paper.  Allow to rise for another 2 hours before baking.

Preheat oven to 350 degrees Fahrenheit.  Brush each loaf with the egg white that has been lightly beaten with a little water.  Cut a cross on the top of the each loaf, using a small, sharp knife (I used scissors and it didn’t turn out right).  Bake the loaves one at a time, for 30 to 40 minutes, or until it is a deep brown.  Cool completely on a wire rack before cutting.

This Friday is Good Friday, one of the most solemn days in the church calendar for all Christian denominations.  For Catholics, this is also a day of fasting, abstinence, quiet reflection, and penance.  The idea behind fasting is to imitate Jesus, to show an appreciation and a cognisance of the suffering He endured.  The notion and practice of fasting has changed over the centuries.  At one point, fasting meant only one meal for that day, a meal that abstained completely from meat, eggs, fat, dairy, alcohol and any other “luxury” ingredients.  Today, the church has adapted a more lenient interpretation that often consists of simple meals centred on fish, absent from more indulgent ingredients.  This is the tradition we observed in my family home growing up.

My dad was pretty strict when it came to fasting.  Everyone in the house had to observe the no meat, no eggs, no sweets rule, including the kids.  The only thing that exempted you was if you hadn’t made your First Communion yet.  So by the age of 7 or 8, once you made the sacrament you were required to fast.  Today, I think most parents would classify this as an example of child negligence or something.  In reality, there is no harm in not eating meat for one day or telling your child they can’t eat chips or candy bars until Easter.

With meat off the table on Good Fridays, another option was required, which more often than not, was fish.  I’ll have to admit, as a kid I wasn’t too keen on fish.  It smelled funny, had a weird texture and at that time, wasn’t the most palatable choice for me.  Today I love it, and strive to make it as often as possible.  As a result, I’ve had to expand my fish recipe repertoire beyond the battered and fried options.  While my husband would have no problem eating fish and chips every Friday, I rather care about our health and opt for healthier options.

The preparation I have for you today is a classic, pan roasted salmon with dill sauce.  I love this recipe because it’s quick enough for a speedy weeknight dinner, but also sophisticated enough for dinner guests.  But most importantly, it’s a surefire way to prepare perfectly cooked salmon.  Salmon, when done right is so good on many levels, but when overcooked, it can be a bland, dry and lack luster disappointment.  The trick in preparing salmon fillets is all about the technique.

Like many recipes that are prepared simply, everything is about the execution.  There are no fancy ingredients here to add flavor, or an abundance of fat to mask dryness.  The flavor here is that of the salmon.  The finished product is moist and succulent not because of the addition of butter and oil, but because it was prepared just so.  While the ingredient list is as short as it can get, you will notice that my notes and instructions are a little longer than usual.  Don’t get discouraged – this is one of the easiest dishes you can make.  All it takes is a little understanding of what makes it great.  Cooking is a lot more than slapping ingredients quickly to get a meal on the table, and this recipe proves that.  It’s these simple techniques that can elevate your cooking from ho-hum to mmm yumm!

Flashback from last year: Orecchiette with Sausage and Rapini

Pan Roasted Salmon with Dill Sauce

When buying the salmon, buy a whole fillet if you can and cut the portions yourself.  This will allow for more uniform pieces and is usually more economical.  Second, decide if you’d like to sear it with the skin on or off.  Leaving the skin on and cooking it until shatteringly crisp is delicious, but may take some practice.  I have included the technique on how to get that crispy skin in my notes below.  For this recipe I removed the skin myself, because the fish counter lady lied to me when I asked her if the fillet had been scaled.  It wasn’t  – grrr.

Key to getting a proper sear, even on skinned salmon, is ensuring that the pieces are patted dry thoroughly.  Any moisture will only steam the fish, preventing that crisp exterior we all love so much.  When it comes to hardware, a large nonstick, oven safe pan is your best bet to take the fish from stove top to oven easily.  If you don’t have an ovenproof pan, you can cover the handle in aluminum foil; this will protect the handle from becoming damaged by the heat of the oven.  Alternatively, you can transfer your fillets to a preheated baking sheet to finish cooking. 

Even though we are using a nonstick pan, some oil is required when searing.  Don’t use extra virgin olive oil here, the high heat requiring in the searing process will ruin the delicate flavor of the oil and make the salmon taste quite unpleasant.  Vegetable, canola or grape seed oils are good options.  They are flavorless and have high smoking points that are ideal for intense temperatures.  Ensure that the oil is very hot before placing your fish in the pan, and once it’s in there, don’t overcrowd it.  Even though this preparation is skinless, leaving the salmon enough space to sear nicely, will allow for a crust to develop.  If you find you can’t accommodate all the pieces comfortably in one pan, then use two. 

Once in the oven, you don’t want to cook the salmon to a bone dry well done.  The pieces should be a uniformly light pink.  One way to tell if it’s done, give it a poke.  If it’s firm but still gives a but it’s done.  You can also use the knife test.  Insert a knife into the fillet and hold it there for 10 seconds or so.  Remove it and with your fingers, check the temperature of the blade.  If it feels warm to hot it’s done.  If it still feels cool, give it a few more minutes in the oven.  Ideally, you want to catch it before it’s well done.  The fish will continue cooking even after it has been removed from the oven and you’ll be left with a moist and succulent filet.

Makes 4 to 5 salmon portions (depending on the size of the filet) and 1 cup of dill sauce

Serves 2 to 4

Dill Sauce

¼ cup mayonnaise

¼ cup sour cream or Greek yogurt

1 tablespoon Dijon mustard

½ shallot finely minced

1 clove garlic finely minced

2 tablespoons fresh dill chopped

Juice of half a lemon

Salt and pepper to taste

In a small bowl, combine all ingredients.  Season with salt and pepper to taste, adjusting the seasoning and adding more lemon juice if necessary.  Refrigerate for at least 20 minutes to allow the flavours to develop.

Salmon

1 filet of salmon, cut into equal portions

Salt and pepper

2 tablespoons oil (vegetable, canola or grape seed oils are all good options)

Season both sides of the salmon generously; with salt and pepper (don’t be shy).  Preheat oven to 400 degrees Fahrenheit.  Add the oil and preheat a pan (or two) large enough to sear the salmon portions, without overcrowding the pan.  When the oil is hot, place the salmon skin side down (if you are cooking the salmon with skin, sear it on the side the skin use to be on) and sear over high heat for 4 minutes.

After 4 minutes, transfer the pan to the oven and continue cooking for another 8 to 10 minutes.  Check for doneness by using one of the methods above.  Plate and serve immediately with dill sauce and wedges of lemon.

Skin on preparation:

Follow the instructions for the skin off preparation, but when placing the salmon in the pan, quickly put pressure on the portions with a spatula, ensuring that the skin is in constant contact with the hot pan.  Alternatively, you can lightly oil the bottom of a heavy pan or pot (so it doesn’t stick to the fish) and use this to press down on all of the salmon portions equally, and at the same time.  After 2 or 3 minutes, remove the pan and continue cooking on the stove for another 2 minutes, before transferring to the oven.  Doing this allows for some of the steam that has accumulated under the pan to evaporate, and further crisp up the skin.  Finish cooking in the oven for 8 to 10 minutes.

I love finding new places to hangout in. I’m a true believer in loving the city you live in and learning about all it has to offer. That’s why I’m always on the lookout for new coffee shops, a hip and funky boutique or a fantastic new restaurant in my adopted home of Hamilton, Ontario.  It was during one of these jaunts across the Hammer, where I came across Mulberry Street Coffee House and tried the dessert that inspired the post I’m sharing with you today. This great spot and their in-house baked cranberry coconut lemon squares sent my mind a spinning and my culinary wheels a turning. It also reaffirmed my belief that Hamilton’s embarrassing “armpit” of Ontario moniker really needs to be retired.

Many have a sordid reputation of Hamilton, especially those from the other side of the Lake Ontario.  Torontonians and other habitants of the GTA, who shall remain nameless, see Hamilton as the Golden Horseshoe’s cesspool, a place of heavy industry, low class citizens, sketchy neighborhoods and confusing one-way streets.  While some of these characterizations are true, the wheel that turns Hamilton’s economy is steel production (hence the nickname, “The Hammer”) and one-way streets do plague the downtown area, the city is so much more than what people make it out to be.  Hamilton is a diamond in the rough, a city in the middle of a cultural renaissance and on the cusp of urban renewal.  It’s those unfairly tagged, “sketchy” neighbourhoods that are being transformed into the pride of the city, and the very thing that is beckoning young professionals to live, work and play in the burgeoning arts and culture sector of the Hammer.

Frequenting neighbourhoods, with their unique shops, quaint store fronts and family owned businesses is the factor that makes you feel like you’re a part of a bigger picture, a citizen in your own town.  You don’t get that feeling from shopping at the mall or dining at a Kelsey’s. It’s for these reasons I love spending my time going out of my way to find those special spots unique to the city I live in.  Like Ottawa Street in the east end that has emerged beyond their roots as the source for fabric, to a lively home décor hub.   Not only is Ottawa Street the home of the first Tim Horton’s ever, this eclectic stretch hosts Sew Hungry, Canada’s largest food truck festival.  It’s littered with antique shops, including my favourite furniture consignment store, The Millionaire’s Daughter.  A sprinkling of bakeries and restaurants, as well as a year round farmer’s market, pulls the community together.  Then there’s my favourite spot, the incredibly cheerful and inviting space that is the The Cannon Coffee Co.

Moving further west, just past the downtown core is Locke Street South, a stretch of fantastic and original restaurants, specialty shops and bakeries.  Places like Chuck’s Burger Bar, Cheese Shoppe on Locke and Earth to Table Bread Bar provide unique places to eat and a source for gourmet foods and cheeses.  Antiques stores, vintage shops, salons and spas, an independent bookstore and enough coffee and tea spots to keep you wired for the entire day, round off this special neighbourhood.

A lot of what is redefining Hamilton can be found on James Street North.  The changes that have been happening here is what is taking Hamilton from “Steeltown” to an arts and culture hub.  Independently owned art galleries are popping up everywhere, small businesses and entrepreneurs are introducing new economic opportunities that have never been seen before in Hamilton.  The low cost of real estate, progressive thinking, and art-centric attitudes that can be found here, are attracting young professionals to set up roots in The Hammer.  ArtCrawl, the monthly art showcase of all the James Street North galleries, happens every second Friday of the month and has brought mounds of attention and a plethora of good vibes to Hamilton’s cultural scene.  Acclamation, a cozy Portuguese resto serves up the best Portuguese seafood gumbo you’ll ever have outside of Portugal.  Then there’s my favourite spot on the strip, Mulberry Street Coffee House.   With its walls adorned with local art, a hip and eclectic atmosphere filled with the sounds of smooth jazz, and their equally smooth and robust coffee, makes this place a hotspot for young and old alike.

It was here where I was inspired to make today’s recipe.  Their cranberry coconut lemon squares are the perfect marriage of sweet and tart.  The almost curd-like interior stays smooth and luscious when baked, while the coconut lends a chewy contrast to the surface.  Coupled with the buttery texture of the crust and a double whammy of tartness from the cranberries, these bars are heaven!  Wanting to put my own spin on this recipe I thought mangoes and limes would create an interesting, tropical variation to this dessert.  And boy does it ever!  The texture of the supple mangoes contrasts nicely with the chewy coconut and the fragrant limes adds the tang that makes this recipe a breath of fresh air to the overly sweet desserts that are out there.  The bright flavours of these mango coconut lime bars may actually make you think spring is here, even though the ground is still blanketed in snow here in Hamilton, with flurries on the forecast for the next three days.  So if you’re tired of Winter and annoyed with the groundhog that apparently predicted an earlier spring, whip up a batch of these lovelies.  They’ll make you feel all warm and spring-like inside, and help you forget about that layer of snow and ice out there – at least for the time being.

Flashback from Last Year: Baked Palačinke with Ricotta Cheese and Rosehip Jam

Mango Coconut Lime Squares

If you would like to make the original inspiration for this recipe, the cranberry lemon variety, simply substitute 1/3 cup of lemon juice for lime and 2 cups of fresh or frozen cranberries for the mango.

Recipes inspired by Mulberry Street Coffee House and adapter from Cranberry Lemon Squares, Canadian Living Magazine

Makes 15 squres

For the Crust:

2 cups all-purpose flour

¼ cup sugar

¼ teaspoon salt

¾ cup butter, cubed and softened

For the Filling:

3 eggs

1 cup sugar

Zest of one lime

1/3 cup freshly squeezed lime juice

2 tablespoons all-purpose flour

¼ teaspoon salt

1 teaspoon baking powder

2 cups mango, cubed (roughly 3 atoulfo mangoes or 2 regular mangoes)

2 cups shredded coconut

For the Crust:

Preheat oven to 350 degrees farenheit.  Line a 13 inch by 9 inch pan with parchment paper.  Size the paper so that it is larger than the pan, using the overhang as handles to pull the entire dessert out of the pan easily.

In a bowl combine flour, sugar and salt.  Add in the softened butter and incorporate the butter into the flour using a pastry cutter, a fork or a food processor.  Combine until the mixture resembles coarse crumbs and is moist enough to squeeze together.  Press into the prepared pan and bake until lightly browned, roughly 20 minutes.

Meanwhile prepare your mangoes and filling.  In a bowl, whisk the eggs and sugar together.  Add in the zest, lime juice, flour, baking powder and salt.  Fold in the mango and coconut.

When the crust is finished baking, pour in the filling and return to the oven for 30 to 40 minutes, or until the centre is firm and set (if the centre is wobbly it’s not ready).  Let cool completely on a wire rack.  When cool, remove from the pan by lifting the entire dessert, using the parchment paper overhang as handles.  Slice into squares and serve at room temperature.

A braised Italian classic that is sure to satisfy even the most critical dinner guests.

Have you ever had one of those dishes at a restaurant, when the instant the fork passed your lips, entered your mouth, and your taste buds came in contact with that delicious bite of food, you knew you had to recreate that dish at home as soon as possible?  The kind of dish that made you savour every bite, meditate on the layers upon layers of complex flavours, and unabashedly lick your plate.  These are the dishes of memorable meals; meals that stick with you for years.  This is the standard that all other dishes are compared to, and the one that conjures pangs of regret following below par dining experiences.

I had a few of these types of meals in my time and my heart just flutters when I think about it.  I think you all know I love food.  I love to cook food, but I loooovvvee to eat food, especially when it’s prepared by expert hands.  There is nothing that brings me greater pleasure than an evening spent dining at a cozy restaurant, eating sophisticated but homey, unpretentious but beautiful food, and reveling in the flavours plated in front of me.  This is why for the past few birthdays, I have spared my husband the misery of finding the perfect birthday gift, and opted for” birthday experiences” instead.  And as you might have guessed, these experiences usually centre on food; usually a dinner at a restaurant that I’ve had my eye on for quite some time.  It was at one of these birthday dinners where I had osso buco for the first time.

Up until that point I only vaguely knew what osso buco even was, but after that meal I knew that I needed to recreate this dish to enjoy at home.  If you’re not familiar with osso buco, it’s time to get familiar with it!  And because I like you so much and I like osso buco so much, I’d like you to meet each other, share a glass of wine and make a new friend at the dinner table.  A new friend is just what osso buco will become.  Like a good friend, osso buco is easy to get along with, reliable and always forgiving, and a welcomed addition to any party.

It’s easy to get along with because this is a no fuss no muss kind of dish.  Sure there’s some chopping, some searing and some stirring, but once that’s done and over with, you can turn all the work over to your oven, sit back and get a head start on that bottle of wine.  It’s reliable and forgiving because there really is no way to screw it up.  Measurements do not have to be exact, cooking time hinges on the “fall off the bone test”, and if you suddenly realize that you only have half a can of opened tomatoes sitting in the fridge or red wine instead of white, it’s all good.  Like I said no fuss, no muss!  Finally, this is one dish that is dressed to impress, perfect to serve to guests not only because of its great ahead-of-time cooking ability, but because of its shear sophistication.  Just think of the ooohs and aaahs you’ll get when you tell your guests they will be dining on osso buco.  Imagine the pride you will feel as you carry out this stunner, plated on a bed of risotto Milanese.  You, my friends, will be a dinner party superstar.

If none of these reasons have compelled you to give osso buco a try in your kitchen, maybe this one will.  In terms of deliciousness I give it a big, fat 10.  And like many of the recipes I post on here, the deliciousness, in my opinion, is compounded by the simplicity of the ingredients.  Osso buco which literally means “bone with a hole” is a veal shank, cut from the hind leg.  The “hole” refers to the marrow in the bone that not only imparts body to the luscious sauce, but a flavor that is as rich as it is yummy.  As I alluded to earlier, after hours of low and slow braising, the meat becomes so tender that removing the shanks from the pot, without it falling to shreds, becomes a task in itself.  Then to bring it all together, the pièce de résistance, a topping so fresh and so fragrant, that enlivens the flavour and heightens the senses; a mixture of lemon zest, minced garlic and parsley, called gremolada.  So go and give this one a try while the nights are still cool and the only thing that will chase away the chill is a comforting pot of braised goodness, a fine bottle of Chianti and some warm laughs amongst good friends, all around the dinner table.  Have I convinced you yet?

Flashback from last year: Pork Chops with Grainy Mustard and Caramelized Onion Cream Sauce

Osso Buco

There are a couple of things I forgot to do, and it turns out, I forget these two things every time I make this dish.  First, I forgot to truss the shanks (tie them up).  This is an important step, because even though this step may not seem necessary, after a few hours of cooking the meat becomes very tender, falls off the bone and becomes difficult to plate.  Trussing it allows you to easily remove the osso buco, without it shredding to pieces.  Do remove the twine once you’re ready to serve.

Whenever I prepare this dish, I always forget to serve the osso buco with the gremolada.  Usually, I prepare the gremolada, leave it in a dish and in the haste of trying to get everything on the table, I absentmindedly leave it behind.  This time I was determined not to forget; however, what I did forget was to buy the parsley.  So while I do include the ingredients and directions for gremolada, I have not pictured it.  Also, I chose not to picture the risotto, except for the one shot, to show you the beautiful yellow hue the saffron imparts to the risotto.  I did include the recipe for you, as it is the classic accompaniment to osso buco.

Recipes adapted from Essentials of Classic Italian Cooking, by Marcella Hazan

Serves 4 to 5 (depending on the size of the shanks)

Osso Buco

4 to 5 veal shanks (1 to 2 per person, depending on size), tied tightly around the middle

Salt and pepper

Flour, spread on a plate

1/3 cup vegetable oil (divided)

1 tablespoon butter

1 onion, chopped fine

2 small carrots or 1 medium carrot, chopped fine

1 large stalk celery, chopped fine

2 cloves garlic, minced

1 cup dry white wine

1 cup meat or chicken stock

1 1/2 cups canned imported Italian tomatoes, chopped (see this post)

1/2 teaspoon fresh thyme or 1/4 teaspoon dried

2 bay leaves

2 or 3 sprigs of parsley

Salt and pepper to taste

Gremolada

1 teaspoon lemon zest

1/4 teaspoon garlic, mined very fine

1 tablespoon chopped parsley

For the Osso Buco:

Preheat oven to 350 degree farenheit.  In a large, heavy bottom pot, such as a dutch oven, heat 2 tablespoons of oil over medium-high.  Season the shanks with salt and pepper and dredge lightly in flour, shaking off any excess.  Brown the shanks on both sides in batches, adding another 2 tablespoons of oil for each new batch added.

Once all of the shanks have been browned, remove excess fat, except for 1 tablespoon and add the butter.  Sweat the onions, carrots and celery until soft, then add the garlic and cook until fragrant.  Pour in the wine and reduce down to one 1 tablespoon, then add the stock and tomatoes.  Bring to a simmer, add the bay leaves, parsley and thyme, a teaspoon or so of salt and a few grinds of fresh pepper.  Return the shanks to the pot.  If you cannot fit the shanks in a single layer, overlap them slightly, by arranging them in a concentric circle, like pictured above.  The braising liquid should come up 2/3 of the way up to the top of the shanks.  If it has not, add a little more stock or water.   Allow the sauce to come to a simmer once more, then cover with a tight fitting lid and braise at 350 degrees for the first 30 minutes, than reduce to 325.  Cook for 2 to 2 and half hours, or until the meat is very tender and pulls away from the bone very easily.

Before serving, remove the shanks to a platter and cut off the twine (if you are individually plating this dish, then don’t cut off the twine just yet).  Keep warm in a 250 degree oven while you prepare the sauce and gremolada.  Place the pot with the sauce over a medium-high flame and reduce for 10 minutes.  When ready to serve, pour the sauce over the platter of osso buco and sprinkle with the gremolada.  Alternatively, in a shallow bowl, plate a serving of risotto Milanese and top with one shank, and the sauce spooned over it.  Sprinkle with gremolada and serve immediately.

For the Gremolada:

Risotto Milanese

 5 cups meat or chicken stock

2 tablespoons diced pancetta

3 tablespoons butter

2 tablespoons vegetable oil

2 tablespoons onion, chopped very fine

2 cups Arborio rice

1/3 teaspoon powdered saffron of 1/2 teaspoon chopped saffron strands dissolved in hot stock

Freshly ground black pepper

1/3 cup freshly grated Parmigiano-Reggiano cheese

Salt

Bring the broth to a gentle simmer.

In a wide, heavy bottom pot, over medium-high heat,  sauté pancetta, 1 tablespoon of butter, vegetable oil and chopped onion.  Cook and stir until the onion becomes translucent, then add the rice.  Stir quickly and thoroughly until the grains are coated well.

Add 1/2 cup of simmering broth and cook the rice, stirring constantly with a wooden spoon until the liquid is gone.  Be careful to stir often, as if left alone the rice will stick to the pot.  When there is no more liquid in the pot, add another 1/2 cup and stir until absorbed.

When the rice has cooked for 15 minutes, add half of the dissolved saffron, pouring the stock through a fine sieve.  Continue to stir and when there is no more liquid in the pot, add the remaining saffron.

Finish cooking the rice until it is tender, but firm to the bite and there is no more liquid in the pot.  Off of the heat, add a few grindings of pepper, the remaining butter and all of the grated cheese.  Stir thoroughly, check for salt and serve immediately.

I am very excited about this recipe.  I’m excited for a few reasons; first and foremost it’s good.  I don’t mean to toot my own horn, but it’s really good.  It’s the kind of cheesecake that will make you change the way you think about this classic dessert.  If you’re the type of person that feels cheesecake needs to be rich and dense, followed by a serving of guilt and self-loathing, think again.  Cheesecake can be so many things, but it doesn’t need to be that.  In fact, it doesn’t have to be cream cheese, sour cream and graham cracker crusts either.  Light, airy, silky and smooth can be adjectives used to describe cheesecakes, without the preconceived cheesecake judgements that often accompany such characteristics, such as, “no-bake” or “Jello”.  These, people, are not cheesecakes but gelatinous imposters.  If you’re looking for a great flavour, texture and ultra smoothness, but still need that feeling you can only get when you eat a proper cheesecake, look no further.

Enter my Light and Lemony Ricotta Cheesecake and the second reason why I’m so eager to share this recipe with you – it’s my own spin on a time-honoured Croatian  recipe.  An East meets West cheesecake – Eastern Europe that is.  I’m kind of proud of this one.  It’s not exactly my own recipe, but a conglomeration of a few recipes and techniques that marries a timeless Croatian staple with the style and flavours that North Americans expect from a cheesecake.  So what makes this cheesecake unique?  Egg whites, whipped cream and a pastry crust, to begin with.  But to get an understanding of why these components are special, I have to give you a bit of a background on the Croatian component of this recipe, and the recipe where it’s all derived from – pita od sira (cheese pie).

I think most people conjure up images of spanakopita, cheese burek, or the politically correct term, sirnica, when they hear cheese pie.  But this pita od sira is what us continental Croatians associate with cheese pie.  The regions who make the impossibly thin doughed varieties listed above call these sandwiched pies lijena pita, lijena  meaning lazy; because it’s a lot easier to make a double pastry crust, than stretching a small ball of dough over a two metre long table.  Like pita od jabuka (apple slab pie), this pie is also sandwiched between a pastry crust, like a North American pie, but rectangular, not round and cut into small squares to be eaten with your hands like a cookie, rather than a fork.  This was one of the first things I wanted to change about the recipe.  I wanted pita od sira to be a little more refined.  Something elegant to serve for dessert, and a little closer in appearance to the classic North American cheesecake.  So I ditched the rectangular pan and brought in cheesecake’s best friend.  The only pan that allows for the beauty of a naked, towering cake without the mess of unmolding it, the springform pan.

With the springform pan in place, the next thing to consider was the crust.  I knew I wanted to include the pastry crust synonymous with pita od sira.  The tender, buttery texture of the pastry adds a layer of richness to the lightness of the cheese filling.  The question though, was whether or not I wanted to stick with tradition and add the top layer, a buttery, crumble top – an option I came across while doing my research – or forgo the crust altogether and go topless.  I opted for tradition and capped off this cheesecake with a lovely pastry whose appearance harkens back to its roots.

Next came the filling, in my opinion the most important component.  I knew the choice of cheese would have to be ricotta, as fresh cow’s cheese (svježi sir) is unavailable in North America.  Sadly, the most important ingredient in pita od sira is banned here because it’s unpasteurized.  My grandmother in Croatia still makes her own, simply by gently heating day old milk (from the cow, not the grocery store) then straining the curds from the whey.  That’s it.  The stuff is incredible and sadly, it’ll soon be gone.  Once Croatia enters the EU, little old bakas like mine won’t be able to sell their cheeses at markets because of food laws that prohibit the sale of unpasteurized dairy products.

I’ve had ricotta based cheesecakes in the past and those experiences have shown me that these varieties can often be grainy and dense.  I considered using marscapone cheese, in addition to the ricotta, for extra richness and creaminess, but decided against it when I remembered how expensive it is!  So, after a little research I came across a recipe that uses one cup of whipped cream to lighten up the batter.  That, coupled with beaten egg whites, sounded like just what I needed to ensure a creamy filling and airy texture.  Boy was I right!  Never have I had a lighter, cloud-like cheesecake.  With hints of lemon and vanilla and that butter crust, this cheesecake has it all . . .  except for a topping.

Like I said earlier, my goal for this recipe was to weave two great cheesecake traditions, and one of the most important components of a the North American variety is not what goes in it, but what’s found on top.  So I knew I needed to come up with something reminiscent of the new world staples, fruity, sweet and tart, all at the same time, but also, one that would be just as much at home in a Croatian kitchen.  Then it hit me, a sauce made from jam, but not just any jam but rosehip (šipak) jam, a classically Croatian specialty.  After gently heating it to make it pourable, and the addition of some lemon juice and zest to liven up the flavour, I had the perfect marriage of old and new, east and west and the best cheesecake you’ll ever have.

Flashback from last year:  Carrot Cake with Maple Cream Cheese Frosting

Light and Lemony Ricotta Cheesecake

Make sure to purchase full fat, extra smooth ricotta cheese.  Don’t try to cut the calories by buying the light stuff.  The results just won’t be the same.

Adapted from “Pita od Sira,” Hrvatska za Stolom and Pita od Sira

Makes one 9 inch cheesecake

Crust

2 cups all-purpose flour

1/4 teaspoon baking powder (the original recipe says, on the tip of a knife)

1/2 cup sugar

pinch of salt

3/4 cup cold butter, cubed

2 egg yolks

1 tablespoon sour cream

zest of half a lemon

Filling

750g extra smooth, full fat ricotta cheese (3 cups or 1 and 1/2 containers)

3/4 cup sugar

1 package (9g) vanilla sugar

zest and juice of one lemon

pinch of salt

3 egg yolks

1/3 cup flour

1 cup whipped cream

3 egg whites, beaten to stiff peaks

Topping

1 cup rosehip jam

zest and juice of one lemon

For the crust:

In a stand mixer, measure the flour, sugar and salt.  Add the cubed, cold butter and using the paddle attachment, combine until the mixture resembles coarse crumbs.  Add the egg yolks, sour cream and lemon zest and continue mixing until fully combined and dough begins to pull away from the sides of the bowl.  On a lightly floured surface, knead gently just enough to combine into smooth ball.  Cut the ball in half and form into two discs.  Cover each disc with plastic wrap and refrigerate for half and hour.

Preheat oven to 350 degrees farenheit.  Roll out the first disk on a well floured surface, rotating often so it does not stick, just enough to fit the springfoam pan.  Using the bottom of the pan, trace a circle into the dough with a small knife.  Repeat the same process with the second disc.  Carefully transfer one of the circles to the bottom of the springform pan, that has been lightly greased and floured.  Poke the surface of the dough with a fork, to prevent it from bubbling during the baking process.  Bake for 8 to 10 minutes, or until the crust just begins to colour.  Chill the second circle in the refrigerator while you prepare the filling.

In a food processor, combine the ricotta, sugar, lemon juice and zest, egg yolks, flour and salt.  Mix until combined and completely smooth, 2 minutes.  Pour the mixture into a medium sized bowl.  Beat the heavy cream until stiff peaks form.  Fold gently into the cheese mixture.  Beat the egg whites until stiff peaks form and fold this gently into the cheese mixture.  Pour into the springform pan and top with the second pastry circle.  Using a small, sharp knife, poke small slits into the curst in an ordered pattern.  Bake in a 350 degree farenheit oven for 40 to 45 minutes or until a toothpick comes out clean.  The centre will still be wobbly, but will set as it cools.  Cool and serve at room temperature with rosehip jam topping.

For the jam:

In a small saucepan over medium heat, warm jam with the zest and lemon juice.  Heat until smooth and pourable and all lumps dissolved.  Serve while still warm (will thicken up again when cooled) by spooning one tablespoonful or so over each piece.