la Cucina di Terresa : cooking food from the soil

Conscious palate archives cont' : july 2008

2011-10-18T19:18:00.009+02:00

The end of the archives.............
I went to visit with a woman I recently met in Paris. We sat and chatted mainly about food: the state of it growing on windowsills, in small gardens, on family farms, in large agro-industry fields. I told her about an article Whose Harvest ? The Politices of Organic Seed Certification I had recently read concerning the future of organic produce (a good read ), the up- and downsides of it being "appropriated" by the agro-industry, now that it has become a profitable business. This surely offers people a greater awareness of what they eat, where their food comes from, how it is produced, and the possibility of now finding it in vegetable and fruit aisles at grocery stores everywhere. But the downside, less known, is also how the agro-industry is and has been pushing for a weakening in the labeling of what can be sold as organic. Nothing is perfect...

Another friend joined us and we carried on talking about Italian cuisine and the marvelously creative and central role - born out of necessity long ago - the noble array of roots, bulbs, leaves, fruits and flowers, which comprise the vegetable kingdom, play in the rich heritage of its manifold regional dishes ... And soon it was quite late.

We hadn’t originally planned on having dinner together, but hunger was calling. We went out into her kitchen to see what we could muster up. Seeing there wasn’t much in the refrigerator we came up with the idea of making a pesto pasta. Only the basil plant, sitting on the windowsill in the kitchen, had recently flowered and its leaves were few and far between. So I suggested we make a pesto with a mixture of the other herbs she had growing: mint, sage, thyme, and the few tiny basil leaves we managed to harvest. The other friend went to see what she had in her refrigerator and came back with a bag full of sweet cherry tomatoes. We swirled around in the kitchen and soon were sitting down to a big bowl of fettucini with herb pesto and tomatoes that was quite scrumptious.

Wine note: Wonderful with the 100% Carignan 2004 "Lo Vielh" from Clos du Gravillas.

I thought I’d pass on a variation of the recipe (below). I decided to call it Windowsill Pesto Fettucini:

Windowsill Pesto Fettucini (serves 4)

1 lb linguini or fettucini
2 handfuls fresh mint
8-10 large sage leaves
1 small handful fresh thyme
1 small handful fresh basil
Pinch of rosemary leaves
1 handful pine nuts
5 tBsp grated pecorino
1 clove garlic
1/2 lb mixed cherry tomatoes
25-30 pitted green olives
Zest of 1 small lemon
6 tBsp extra-virgin olive oil
Salt and pepper

Using a sharp potato peeler, remove the zest from the lemon in long strips. Scrape off any pith. Slice the strips lengthwise into extremely thin slices. If you do this the night before, just place them in a bowl and leave it uncovered on the counter overnight. If you do it the same day, place them in the oven at the lowest temperature until they begin to curl (about 30 to 45 minutes). Be careful they don’t turn brown.

Put a big pot of salted water on to boil
In a mortar or blender mix together the herbs, garlic, pecorino and 3-4 tBsp olive oil. Add more olive oil if needed to create a nice paste. Season to taste with salt.
Cut the cherry tomatoes into halves or fourths. Do the same with the olives.Set aside.
Cook the linguini or fettucini, following the instructions on the bag. They should be al dente. Strain, reserving 2-4 tBsp of cooking water. Return pasta to the pot, add the pesto, tomatoes, olives and lemon. Mix well. If a bit dry add a tBsp or two of reserved cooking water and/or olive oil. Season to taste with salt and pepper.
Serve in hot pasta bowls. Place a parmesan grater and a nice chunk of pecorino on the table.

Note: You can use any mixture and portion of herbs . For example, add or substitute a couple young celery leaves, a pinch of marjoram, some cilantro, arugula, even garden tea leaves...
You can substitute walnuts, cashews, blanched almonds or hazelnuts for the pine nuts, and parmesan for the pecorino.
Be creative... And bon appetit!

July 27, 2008

Blancmange is one of my favorite desserts, wonderfully light and refreshing on hot summer days. It's somewhat
like Italy's panna cotta (cooked milk), except that it is made with almond milk - and I thicken it with agar-agar. I'm always excited when I find scrumptious desserts that haven't the ubiquitous egg-milk combination. It makes for a nice change.

As for toppings, given its mild nutty flavor, just about anything that stirs the imagination goes wonderfully with it. I sometimes top it with a dark chocolate syrup, a blackberry or strawberry coulis, even a basil coulis. Along with spice cake, Blancmange (white food in English) is considered to be one of the oldest desserts in France. Grimod de La Reynière (a literary epicure from the 18th century) said that it originated in Langeudoc in the early Middle Ages, though its true origin remains unclear. It is thought that the introduction of almonds in Europe by the Arabs is at its origin.

In the beginning it was a white meat jelly made from pounded chicken or veal, almond milk, rice, sugar, rosewater, and a thickener. Sometime in the 17th century, blancmange became the white pudding that we know it as today. It arrived in Italy during the 12th century and curiously became a typical dessert in two of its most distant regions: Sicily and Val d'Aosta. In Sicily, it is traditionally cooked with lemon zest and cinnamon and each mold is served on a lemon-tree leaf.

Recently, a few friends have sent me articles on buying and eating local fruits and vegetables. It's amazing how this movement has sprung up and taken root, from CSA (community sustained agriculture) in the States (it's equal in France is AMAP - association
pour le maintien d'agriculture paysanne) to actually having someone plant and tend a vegetable garden right in your own backyard.
I thought I'd pass on these articles: Cutting Out the Middlemen, Shoppers Buy Slices of Farms and A Locally Grown Diet With Fuss but No Muss. Earlier this year, I also read a wonderful article on Amy Franceschini and her Victory Gardens project in edible San Francisco. It was very inspiring. Wow, that's a lot of links! Well, enjoy any or all!

Wine note: You might try a Moscato Passito di Pantelleria, from Sicily, or a Moscato d'Asti with this blancmange.

The recipe is below.

Peach Blancmange (serves 8)

450 gr (1 lb) sweet almonds, or 1 litre (4 1/4 cups) unsweetened almond milk
20 bitter almonds or 8 drops of almond extract or essence
4 tsp agar-agar flakes
125 gr (1/2 cup) cane sugar

To make almond milk:
Blanche sweet almonds and bitter almonds in boiling water for 1 minute. (If using almond extract, simply add it to the almond milk). Drain and let cool just long enough to be able to handle. Remove skins by squeezing one end of almond between fingers.
Let them soak in a bowl of cold water for 15 minutes to render them whiter. Liquidize the blanched almonds with 1 liter (4 1/4 cups) hot water. When the liquid is milky and the almonds very fine, strain mixture through muslin or a fine strainer, squeezing or pressing down to retrieve all the liquid. The almond milk can be made the day before.

To make blancmange:
Add the agar-agar to the almond milk (let the almond milk if you have just made it) and let stand for 10 minutes. Bring to boil over medium heat with cane sugar, stirring frequently. When sugar and agar-agar are dissolved (5-10 minutes) remove from heat. (If the agar-agar doesn’t dissolve completely, strain mixture). Pour the almond blancmange into a large mould or small individual ramekins (they will set faster). Leave aside to cool then refrigerate until firmly set.
Note: You can also blend a mixture of blanched nuts to make the nut milk, for example: 225 gr (1/2 lb) each of almonds and hazel nuts, or 400 gr (14 oz) almonds and 60 gr (1/2 cup) raw pistachios

Peach topping:
8 medium-sized ripe peaches
1 cup cane sugar
2 tsp (or 2 large pinches) fresh thyme leaves
1 handful blanched almonds, roasted, cooled, and cut into slivers

Mix sugar and peaches together and set aside to marinate for 2 hours. Bring to a boil then cook over medium heat for 12 minutes. Ladle off the foam that has collected on the top. Remove from heat and stir in thyme. Let cool before garnishing the blancmange. Sprinkle blancmange with roasted almond slivers Note: The peach topping can be made 2-3 days in advance.

Conscious Palate archives cont' : december 2008

2011-10-18T19:09:00.004+02:00

With the helter-skelter rhythms of the season,the putting of ribbons on packages, the packing of bags as I get ready to fly to the States, this newsletter will be short but sweet. I wanted to mention a wonderful article I - only - recently read by Michael Pollan, author of The Omnivore's Dilemma, called Farmer in Chief. It appeared in the NY Times Magazine at the beginning of October. For those of you who haven't read it, it's worth taking the time. It's an open letter to President-elect Obama: a succinct yet comprehensive overview of the state of our food and our relationship to it, suggestions by which to improve the manner food is grown and eventually distributed; and the simple beauty of how the Earth generously sustains us.
Inspired by his article, I thought I'd voice my suggestion for a News Year's resolution: plant one vegetable or herb pot on you windowsill, balcony, front porch, or in your backyard. Get just a bit of dirt under your fingernails. One sustaining potted plant that you can rejoice in eating from and that can, perhaps more than anything, connect us to the Earth. Seems an easy enough resolution, and one that will keep on giving. A courageous rosemary plant growing on the windowsill in the middle of winter has a nice ring to it.

I'm starting up the newsletter again after a wonderful vacation spent in the Loire Valley countryside with its resplendent royal chateaux, its unique minerally wines - such wonderful table companions to plant-based dishes, sumptuous, artisan goat cheese, and marvelous fresh, local vegetables, not to mention the skies and fields flowing toward the horizon in a display of infinite blues and greens as well as a litany of lilting rivers watched over by flocks of weeping willows.

I came back to Paris with a basketful of apples I picked off myriad enticing apple trees - their varieties a mystery to me - in the backyards of friends country houses and what was left of numerous loaves of bread and baguettes I couldn't resist buying at an amazing "more than off the beaten path" bakery Fournil de la Licorne, in Vallières-les-Grandes.

Laying my treasure out on the kitchen counter back home, I realized that I'd never be able to eat everything while still fresh, and not wanting to end up throwing any of it away - the amount of food we all, myself included, throw into the trash is a sad, almost criminal, reality - I decided to dedicate my Saturday to turning the leftover bread into croutons and the apples into apple butter. I canned the apple butter; it'll keep for months and I can open a jar now and then for a special breakfast treat (the French are not familiar with apple butter). As for the croutons, I put them into glass jars that now sit on a shelf within hand's reach. Added to a simple salad of lettuce, arugula, chunks of tomato, a smattering of black or green olives, and a few shavings of parmesan and I've got myself a more than satisfying lunch or light dinner.

And they'll keep nicely on the shelf for a month or so. And in the end, nothing but the apple peels ended up in the trash!
Now speaking of all that we end up throwing away... A few days after I got back to Paris, a friend gave me an article she'd saved from Le Monde newspaper, which to my surprise was exactly on that subject. Japanese author Jinnosuke Uotsuka has recently published two books (unfortunately not yet translated into English) "Japanese Who Let Their Food Spoil in the Fridge" and "Japanese Who Don't Let Their Food Spoil in the Fridge," a best-seller in Japan. (articles in English, French, Italian).

And here are a few addresses I never fail to visit when I'm in the Loire Valley:
Bernard Baudry Winery in Chinon - I come home every year with a few cases of his marvelous Chinon wines - Le Clos Guillot and La Croix Boisée - to put in my cellar, and never fail to drive down among his vineyard to pick basketful after basketful of succulent blackberries.
Champalou Vineyards in Vouvray - Catherine and Didier, vignerons independants, make some of the freshest, cleanest, embracing Vouvrays - their 'sec-tendre' goes marvelously with asparagus, one of those finicky vegetables when it comes to pairing it with wine.
Ferme-Auberge de La Lionnère - Frédéric and Francoise Bouland's truly exquisite goat cheese. You can find Françoise every Friday at the Montrichard open-air market or take a drive out to their farm and enjoy wonderful country-style lunch or dinner cooked by Françoise with products exclusively grown on their farm, and say hello to their goats, even watch as they are lovingly milked.

Crouton and apple butter recipes are below.

Croutons

1/2 lb ( 250 gr) old bread (I made 2 batches, one with old baguettes and one with a dense flaxseed bread)
2 tsp fresh thyme leaves
1 tsp chopped rosemary leaves
1 large or 2 small cloves garlic, finely chopped
Zest of 1 lemon
2-3 tBsp extra virgin olive oil

Preheat oven to 300 degrees F.
Take old leftover bread, not too dry, cut off the crusts if you wish (I prefer to remove only the thicker crust) and cut into 3/4 inch cubes. In a large skillet sauté garlic, herbs and lemon zest for 1 minute. Add bread cubes and toss to coat. Place in a large enough baking dish to spread them out evenly in one layer. Bake for 15 - 30 minutes depending on original dryness of bread. Cool and store in a tight-lidded glass jar.

Note: You can also add 1/4 tsp freshly ground black pepper, a pinch of cinnamon or any other spice, herb, or mixture of them that strikes your fancy.

******************

Apple Butter

3 lbs (1500 gr) cooking apples (Granny Smith or Gravensteins, for example)
1 1/2 generous cups (500 ml) apple cider
1 cup (200gr) cane sugar + 1/2 cup (100 ml) honey
1/2tsp ground cinnamon
1/2tsp allspice
1/2 tsp cloves
Zest of 1/2 lemon
Dash of unrefined salt
Note: Since I had no allspice or cloves in the cupboard - and it was Sunday in Paris - I replaced them with 1/2 tsp grated fresh ginger)

4 canning jars
Foodmill or chinoise sieve

Cut apples, unpeeled and uncored, into quarters (a good amount of pectin is stored in the cores, the peels add flavor), remove any damaged parts.
Put apples into large pot with the apple cider, cover, bring to a boil, reduce heat to simmer, and cook until they are soft, about 20 minutes. Remove from heat.
Put cooked apples into a foodmill (or chinois sieve) and work the pulp through and into a large bowl. Mix the sugar and honey with the apple purée, bring to a boil in a wide, thick-bottomed pot (the wider the better as there is more surface evaporation) and cook uncovered over low heat, stirring often to prevent burning. Scrape the bottom of the pot when you stir so that no crust forms.
Cook until thick and smooth, about 7 hours. (You can cook the purée over medium-low heat for about 2 hours - if you are willing to stir constantly - as the stirring encourages evaporation) Canning:
Place the canning jars and lids in a large pot of boiling water (with enough space for the water enough to cover them)
and process for 10 minutes. Remove them and pour the apple butter into the sterilized jars, leaving 1/4 inch head space.
Wipe rims of jars and seal with lids. Return to boiling water and process for 5 minutes.
If you want to make a smaller amount and just refrigerate, pour apple butter into sterilized jars, seal with lids, and let cool. It will keep in the refrigerator for about a month.

Conscious Palate archives cont' : june 2008

2011-10-18T19:00:00.003+02:00

I know the season of baby turnips is all but over - here in Paris they flourish at the open-air markets from March to June. Since Istumbled upon a nice bunch of them the other day, I thought I'd share with you this extremely simple and refreshing hors d'oeuvre.
Actually, raw baby turnips are quite sweet with a mellow spiciness.

Of course, their tender leaves (extremely high in Viamins K, A and C) are also a delight sautéed lightly in extra-virgin olive oil, a bit of garlic and lemon, perhaps along with some spring dandelion and/or young chicory leaves. Great as a bruschetta topping with shavings of Sardo Percorino or Parmigiano Reggiano. Turnips in general, seem to have originated in Western Asia and/or parts of Europe. They were cultivated as far back as Hellenistic and Roman times, and were a staple food, espcially for the poor, in Europe during the Middle ages - until the potato made its entrance from South America some time later.

They're one of the cruciferous - meaning edible - vegetables from the Brassica genus of the Brassicaceae, or mustard, family , (that's a mouthful...) which also brings us broccoli, brussel sprouts, cabbage, cauliflower, kolrabi, collards, kale, mustard greens, watercress, arugula, radishes, and on and on... All these noble vegetables are relatively good sources of phytonutrients including Vitamin C, Folate, Selenium, Carotenoids, and dietary fiber, as well as being rich in Glucosinolates: sulfur-containng compounds that give crucifers their spicy (mustardy) bite and strong aroma. These compounds, formed when the vegetables are chewed or chopped, are thought to have protective effects against cancer. The ancient Roman Pliny the elder considered the turnip one of the noblest vegetables of his time - "directly after cereals or at all events after the bean, since its utility surpasses that of any other plant."

I guess I'll also have to mention Colza oil, since I use it in this recipe. It was only in doing some research on information about
turnips that I realized that colza oil is obtained from the seeds of a variety of Brassica Rapa, to which, unsurprisingly, turnips
belong. Now I understand why the two - raw baby turnips and extra-virgin colza oil - go so well together.
Note: use only exra-virgin colza oil and use it exclusively as a seasoning oil.

Raw Baby Turnips with Extra-Virgin Colza Oil

1 bunch fresh baby turnips (with leaves)
1/3 cup extra-virgin Colza oil
1/4 - 1/3 tsp unrefined sea salt
1/4 tsp freshly ground white pepper

Pour the extra-virgin colza oil in a small bowl, add the salt and pepper and stir. Set aside for 30 minutes. Cut the leaves off each
turnip bulb (put them aside to make a light mixed greens sauté). Cut off the long thin roots. Slice the turnips into halves
or quarters depending on their size ( the smaller the sweeter). Arrange them on a plate, with a handful of toothpicks nearby.
Garnish with a light sprinkling of sea salt and fresh ground white pepper. Place the bowl of colza oil in the midst of them.
Skewer a turnip, dip it into the oil, stirring it to bring up the settled salt and pepper. Then plop it in your mouth and crunch down.
It's quite an excursion! You can add more or less salt and pepper according to your taste.

Wine note: This hors d'oeuvre actually goes quite nicely with a light, dry champagne or even proseco.

June 15, 2008

I was eagerly awaiting the sleek small heads of spring fennel at the open-air markets in Paris and they finally arrived
a couple of weeks ago. Showing up also in glorious heaps was wild fennel - the stuff that grows along roadsides, all feathery leaves, no bulb, and ever so succulent. Fennel is said to be indigenous to the Mediterranean - the Romans seemed especially fond of it, and still are. It's fruit is actually a dried seed. Chocked full of good things: Vitamin C and Calcium, Iron, Magnesium, Phosphorous, Copper, Manganese, it's also a good source of dietary fiber.
English folklore in days of yore had it that fennel possessed secret powers. It was believed that hanging a bunch of fennel over a cottage door on Midsummer’s Eve would prevent the effects of witchcraft. In centuries past, Roman women nibbled on the seeds to stave off their appetite. Fennel is considered to be one of the oldest culinary herbs and medicinal plants. In ancient Egyptian medical writings it was referred to as a remedy for flatulence; and elsewhere described as an aid to digestion. Today, it is appreciated for the the health benefits of the antioxidant flavinoids - including Quercetin - it contains.
While leafing through the interent on Italian regional cuisine, I came across a recipe for Wild Fennel Patties. Who but the Italians could come up with such a splendid idea - this is from Southern Italy . Quite a simple feat to make, but biting into one of the herbaceous patties is like filling your mouth with a burst of fragrant wild earthiness. Wine note: Wonderful with a crisp Côtes de Roussillon Rosé, like the Zoé Rosé from La Préceptorie de Centernach.

This is my adaptation to Aneglo Garro's recipe.

Wild Fennel Patties - makes about 12 palm-sized patties

1 lb wild fennel fronds
2 eggs slightly beaten
2 handfuls of day-old bread
2-3 tBsp of the water the fennel was cooked in
1/3 cup grated Pecorino Sardo or Parmigiano Reggiano
Salt and pepper

After washing the fennel fronds, parboil or steam them for about 15 minutes. Strain and pat dry in a kitchen towel.
When cool, finely chop the fronds and set aside.
In a medium-sized bowl, tear the bread into tiny bits and moisten with the fennel water - not too much. Let stand
for a few minutes. Then add the beaten egg, grated pecorino or parmesan, chopped fennel, salt and pepper,
and mix well. Form into palm-sized patties, place them in a baking dish and bake in a 400 degree oven for
about 20 minutes or until the outside is crisp and golden brown.
I like to eat them just slightly warm with a little salad of diced ripe tomatoes and black olives drizzled
with a wonderful extra-virgin olive oil.

Bon appetit !

Conscious Palate archives cont' : november 2008

2011-10-18T18:49:00.004+02:00

As Isabel Allende puts it in her wonderful book Aphrodite: A Memoire of the Senses, “Handling food joins the sense of touch with the basic pleasure of satisfying the appetite.” Yes, cooking is a patient occupation! So I thought for this – late – Thanksgiving recipe I’d give this simple - yet demanding in patience - Chestnut Soup recipe.

If you’re still in search of a starter for your Thanksgiving dinner, you can run out and buy some fresh chestnuts (they’ ll probably be from Italy since Chestnut trees are, sadly, quite rare now in the States due to a blight at the beginning of the 20th century) and sit around the table with friends and/or family and get them ready to be transformed into this velvety, succulent liquid dish.

As for food news, here are a couple tidbits: The European Commision is scraping rules that have kept forked carrots, curved cucmbers and other strange fruit from inhabiting the produce sections of markets. Can you imagine government employees policing vegetable stands and measuring out punishment to those daring to sell a crooked courgette? Here’s a good BBC article on the subject And if you have the itch to getsome hands-on experience growing organic foodand, here’s a wonderful organization, a world wide network that allows volunteers to live and learn on organic properties around the globe: WWOOF.

And finally, the Urban Homesteader who, along with his family, has been transforming his ordinary city lot in Pasadena into an organic permaculture garden that supplies them with food year around. Check out the website and this interesting videoon their urban farm.

A blessed, succulent Thanksgiving to you all!
The Chestnut Soup recipe is below.

Fresh Chestnut Soup - serves 4

1 1/2 lbs fresh chestnuts (in shells)
1/2 cup each celery, carrot, onion, finely chopped
1/4 cup finely chopped turnip (optional)
3 fresh flat-leaf parsley sprigs, chopped
2 fresh bay leaves
1 rosemary sprig
3 tBsp extra-virgin olive oil
1/4 cup Madeira
Unrefined sea salt and freshly ground black pepper
Orange-rosemary olive oil:
Zest of 1 orange
20 rosemary leaves
4 tBsp extra-virgin olive oil

- Carve an X on the flat side of each chestnut with a sharp paring knife. Put chestnuts in a large bowl, cover with water and let soak
for 1/2 – 1 hour. Drain and spread chestnuts in a roasting pan and roast in oven preheated to 400 °F for 15-20 minutes, or until
the shells are brittle and have curled back from the X. Remove from oven. When cool enough to handle, peel off outer shells
and inner brown skins of chestnuts with a knife. Crumble them and set a side.
- Heat olive oil in large saucepan over low heat, stir in celery, carrot, turnip and onion. Cover surface of vegetables with a piece
of wax paper and let vegetables sweat for 10 minutes. Remove wax paper, add 1 liter (4 1/2 cups) water, bay leaf, bring to a boil,
reduce heat and simmer covered for 10 minutes. Add crumbled chestnuts and rosemary sprig and simmer covered for another 10
minutes. Add sherry and simmer uncovered for 3 minutes. Remove from heat, add parsley, and stir. Purée soup in a blender (be
careful when blending hot liquids). Add salt and peeper to taste and more hot water if soup is too thick.
- For orange-rosemary olive oil:
Heat olive oil over low flame till nicely warm to the touch - but not boiling, pour over orange zest and rosemary leaves in a small
bowl or ramekin. Set aside to cool slightly.
Garnish soup with a drizzle or two of the seasoned oil and freshly ground black pepper.

Conscious Palate archives cont' : january 2009

2011-10-18T18:44:00.004+02:00

One of winter’s greatest gustatory pleasures is the dizzying array of apples that fill the marketplaces in Paris. Surely the applepar excellence – in my estimation – is the Reinette Clochard, an ancient variety that grows in the west of France. It is harvested in October and available from November to March, but becoming more and more difficult to find. Alas, the Golden Delicious has pushed it to the side… To bite into one is to fill your mouth with a burst of earthy spiciness and a lingering taste of honey. It is not an apple that would catch your eye, on the order of the Pink Lady® (this apple has the distinction of being trademarked – difficult to understand how an apple can be patented and defined as intellectual property) with its pink-blush dress and crisp crunch.

The Reinette Clochard (clochard translates as bum or tramp in English) looks as if wind, rain, and sundry forces of nature had battered it. But when I bite into one, I am instantly transported to the rolling countryside back when family farms blotted the horizon. Maybe they will yet again… Anyway, enough about the Clochard - it’s going to start blushing. I thought I’d give my variation on the famous Tarte Tatin. Get yourself into the kitchen on inauguration day and cook yourself up one. Be sure to have a bit of good crème fraîche on hand; add a generous dollop to each slice, and dig in while watching the inauguration festivities. Maybe cork a nice chilled Vouvray. Quite festive for a more than festive day!

The recipe is below, and there’s also a sneak view of the Clochard apple.

Apple Tarte Tatin - serves 6 - 8

Dough:
250 gr (2 1/2 cups) unbleached white flour
125 gr (generous 1/2 cup, slim 9 tBsp) sweet butter, room temperature
1/2 tsp unrefined sea salt
3-5 tBsp water

Filling:
750 + gr (1 3/4 - 2 lb) sweet firm apples (Reinette Clochard - if you can find it, or Reine de Reinette. If not Golden Delicious or Gala will do just fine…)
140 g (3/4 cup) unrefined cane sugar
5 large, or 8 small, fresh bay leaves
80 gr (slim 3 oz, 5 1/2 tBsp) sweet butter

- Sift flour with salt into a large bowl. Make a well in the middle and add the butter cut into small pieces. With your hands rub the flour and butter together until the mixture turns crumbly. Add the water and stir lightly with a fork to mix till just beginning to hold together (add more water if needed). Gather up into a ball, wrap in waxed paper or food wrap and set aside in a cool place for 1-2 hours.
- While the dough is resting, pour the sugar into the bottom of a 10-inch cast-iron skillet or ceramic pie plate with high edges and spread evenly. Put in an oven preheated to 425 F and cook until the sugar is melted 15 - 20 minutes), stirring from time to time as it begins to melt. Watch it very carefully - don’t let it get to dark or burn, as it will give the tart a bitter taste. Remove from the oven, place the fresh bay leaves on top of the hot, melted sugar, and set aside to cool.
- Wash, peel, core, and quarter the apples. Place them in concentric circles on the bottom of the skillet or pie plate, fitting them as tight as possible. Dot with the butter cut into pieces.
- On a lightly floured surface, lightly knead the dough with the heel of your hand. Shape it again into a ball, flatten and roll out to a circle about 1/8th inch thickness. Place the skillet on top of the dough and cut the dough 1 1/4 inches wider than the pie plate. Remove the skillet from the dough and carefully place the dough over the top of the apples, tucking the edges down between the apples and the side of the skillet so as to contain the fruit inside. Bake in an oven preheated to 425 F for 30-35 minutes. Remove from the oven and immediately place a large flat serving dish on top of the skillet (it should overlap the skillet) and carefully but rapidly turn the skillet upside down. Remove the bay leaves from the tart. Let it cool for 15 minutes or so, then serve. Bon appetit!

Conscious Palate archives cont' : march 2009

2011-10-18T18:40:00.004+02:00

I am by no means a wine aficionado; nonetheless I’d like to say a word or two about the wonderful elixir. I was in theStates over the holidays and took the opportunity to look around for a couple local California wines I could serve at my niece’s wedding in May, to accompany the cuisine I’ll be cooking for the celebration. Plant-based cuisine - and therein is the catch. Having now lived in France for sometime, perhaps my palate has grown European: by that I mean grown used to - expectant of even - the overabundant array of lighter, well-balanced, lower-alcohol wines from bountiful varietals, terroirs, and regions, which accompany the typical cuisine of the land and unabashedly, might I say, the humble vegetable. I was, of course, in search of exactly that: lighter wines with mineral undertones and crisp acidity.

Wines that dance on the palate with the earthy character of fresh, seasonal vegetables… Wines made from varietals such as Arneis, Erbaluce, Cortese, Dolcetto from Italy’s Piedmont region; Corvina, Garganega from the Veneto region; Campania’s Falanghina and Fiano; Tuscany's Vernaccia and Trebbiano; Montepulciano from Abbruzzo; Cabernet Franc, Chenin Blanc, Romarantin from France’s Loire Valley; Savagnin and Poulsard from the Jura; Jurançon’s Gros Manseng; Provence’s Marsanne and Ugni Blanc; Carignan, Mourvedre and Grenache from the Côtes de Roussillon, and on and on… It proved not an easy task: wine culture in America seems to have developed more around a devotion for the "robust" varietals and less focused, in my opinion, on the intricacies of wine-food melodiousness; and America's young wine palate followed suit.

Combing the shelves of numerous wine stores, I was struck by the plethora of bottles full of the juice of the “noble” grapes - Cabernet Sauvignon, Merlot, Pinot Noir, Syrah, Chardonnay, Sauvignon Blanc (as well as Zinfandel) - and the lack of other more subtle yet amazingly generous European varietals. They are noble grapes, to be sure, which make noble wines… but wines perhaps a bit too noble for the modest origins of the vegetable kingdom. And given the “new world” methods of wine making, resulting in reds and whites of such high alcoholic content (reaching above 16 percent!?) - wines oh so bold, so brawny, so jammy - the subtle chant of a Risi e Bisi risotto, the sonorous percussion of a Pepperonata is literally drowned out. How nice it would be to have the option to hear, to taste those luscious operas!

The recent comment by Dr. Rajendra Pachauri, chair of the UN Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change and a leading authority on global warning, urging people to eat less meat in order to help tackle climate change, coupled with the fact that American chefs are increasingly putting more emphasis on plant-based cooking, (listen to Mark Bittman's assessment), it would seem a propitious moment for winemakers throughout the country to begin researching, growing, vinifying more "less-noble" varietals. And I'd ask them to pay special attention to the interplay between fruit and acidity, giving more voice to the mineral qualities of terroir and, need I say again, tending toward lower alcohol content. With their enterprising spirits and creative ingenuity, it would seem both a marvelous challenge and a rewarding experience all the way around. It seems a few have already come to such a conclusion. Read what Ojai Vineyards’ Adam Tolmachat had to say on the subject in this LA Times article.

By the way, I did finally get my hands on a few California wines that quite nicely fit the bill. One afternoon, I meandered into Bi-Rite Market on 18th Street in San Francisco and wine buyer Josh Adler generously pointed me to a wonderful 2007 Arneis and 2007 Dolcetto from Palmina Wines in Lompoc, as well as a delicious 2007 Cabernet Franc from Lang and Reed Winery in Saint Helena. Well-crafted wines subtle enough to let that Pepperonata and Risi e Bisi's arias sound forth.

Now since my last newsletter, I‘ve collected a smattering of articles and such that you might find inspiring or of interest:
- An organic farm in Kenya’s largest slum : article, photos.
- A Washington Post article on a budding epidemic in Kenya's wheat fields.
- From Roots of Change, an article on the CA drought.
- A NY Times article about Obama’s new chef, Sam Kass. We might yet get an organic garden on the White House lawn!
- A TED video of Jose Antonio Abreu: Help me bring music to kids worldwide (TED Prize winner)
and a video his protégé Gustavo Dudamel conducting the Teresa Carreño Youth Orchestra from Venezuela. Truly inspiring!

- Nota bene: If you live in San Francisco, next time you’re looking for an exquisite "natural" European wine, drive over to Terroir Natural Wine Merchant and Bar on Folsom Street. You’ll find three enthusiastic guys passionate about their wines. And you won’t be disappointed. The wines notes on their website make the mouth water!

Now on to this month's recipe. In keeping with the subject of wine, I couldn't resist my Pears Poached in White Wine with Honey-Thyme Syrup. I know it's no longer pear season...You can put the recipe away until next autumn; it'll be here before we know it. (And i promise some wine pairing tips for plant-based dishes in subsequent newsletters.)

Pears Poached in White Wine (serves 4)

4 Conference pears, just under ripe (or other long-necked cooking pears)
2 cups or so (1/2 liter) good dry white wine
1/2 cup or so (170 gr) light honey
2 sprigs fresh thyme
Juice and zest of 1/2 lemon (zest cut into thin strips)
Good-sized handful of hazelnuts, roasted, skinned and coarsely chopped
Crème fraîche (optional)

Peel pears (or cook them unpeeled as is often done in Italy's Piedmont region), leaving stems attached. Place them upright in a tall saucepan, just large enough to hold them. Add the white wine to almost cover them, add a bit more if necessary. Add the honey, lemon juice and zest. Cover and bring to a boil, lower heat and gently simmer until just tender 15-30 minutes (depending on the ripeness of the pears). Test with a toothpick. Let pears cool in the pan then remove. Strain the poaching liquid into a small saucepan, and boil to reduce to a syrupy consistency (5-10 minutes). You may add a bit more honey if the syrup doesn’t seem quite sweet enough). Immediately strain, and set aside to cool.
Serve pears with a plentiful drizzle of syrup. Garnish with hazelnuts and a few thyme flowers. Add a dollop of crème fraîche or mascarpone if you wish. And please feel free to forward my newsletter to family and friends.

Conscious Palate archives cont' : april 2009

2011-10-18T18:36:00.005+02:00

Here's April skipping along. Perhaps you're as hypnotized as I by the strident or lilting songs of birds on a wire or budding tree branches, sounding forth the fertile advent of spring. I've had a hankering for some time to put myself in front of bowls of almonds, hazelnuts, walnuts, candied lemon and orange zests, figs, raisins, open bottles of spices and ground cacao, acacia honey and throw handfuls and pinches of them all together, then get my hands dirty mixing them into some semblance of Panpepato, that celebrated, scrumptiousdolce from Toscana.
I'm but a novice when it comes to its mysterious alchemical substance, but a great admirer of its dense texture and savor. Legend has it that in a convent during a siege of the city of Sienna back in medieval times, concerned about the health of the inhabitants of the city, one of the nuns, a Sister Berta, came up with a sort of dense high energy bread consisting of honey, candied fruits, almonds, spices and lots of pepper. Now there are as many versions of panpepato as there are legends. The more delicate tasting Panforte Margherita, with its milder mix of spices, was created in 1879 for the occasion of Queen Margherita's visit to Sienna.

Panpepato is normally enjoyed during Christmas, but I'm often one to side step tradition. So in the budding of spring I'm sending out my "rustic" variation on this age-old sweet. One of the reasons I so like Panpepato is that it has neither egg nor milk nor cream, and I easily switched rice flour for the small amount of flour my recipe calls for— so no gluten! Wine note: Pour yourself a glass of Vin Santo, Moscadello di Montalcino, or Brachetto d'Acqui to sip along with a thin slice of Panpepato. You won't be disappointed

As for links, I wanted to give you one to this wonderful website: Grain, an international non-governmental organization which promotes the sustainable management and use of agricultural biodiversity based on people's control over genetic resources and local knowledge, where you'll find wonderful in-depth articles and well-documented information. And this is their blog: Food Crisis and the Global Land Grab. And it seems Michelle Obama's organic garden is ruffling the feathers of the pesticide guys and gals. They sent her a letter to that effect. You can read it here.

Panpepato my variation on a recipe from the cookbook La Bonne Cuisine Italienne des Carluccio.

Panpepato

110 gr (2/3 cup) toasted whole almonds
110 gr (2/3 cup) toasted whole hazelnuts, rub off skins after toasting
85 gr ((3/4 cup) slightly toasted walnut halves
55 gr (1/3 cup) Muscat or Sultana raisins (softened in warm water then drained)
60 gr (1/2 cup + 1 tsp) cocoa powder
100 gr (3/4 cup) candied lemon and orange zest, coarsely chopped
1/2 tsp cinnamon
1/2 tsp ground coriander
1/2 tsp freshly ground nutmeg
1 tsp freshly ground pepper
130 gr (1/3 cup + 2 tsp) acacia honey
Flour to bind, about 30 gr (or 1/8 cup). I use rice flour to avoid the gluten.

Preheat oven to 160-170 °C (325 F°)
Cover the bottom of a baking sheet or pan with buttered parchment paper.

Combine all the ingredients except the flour and honey. Bring honey along with a couple drops of water to a boil in a heavy saucepan. Cook until it registers 130 °C (250 °F) on a candy thermometer, about 3 minutes. The honey will be frothy.

Immediately pour over the fruit-nut mixture and, working quickly, combine. Add the flour and continue to quickly mix. At first it will seem dry, but as you continue to work it the mixture will soften. You might find it easier to work it with your hands, in which event you can pull on a pair of rubber gloves. Form into a rounded, compact loaf, and bake in the oven for 30 - 40 minutes. Keep an eye on it while baking; the top should’t burn. It should feel slightly soft and springy to the touch when done.

Remove from the oven and set on a rack to cool completely. Using a fine meshed sieve, dust the top with a tBsp or so of cocoa powder. Keep in an airtight container for up to 3 weeks…perhaps longer, if there’s any left. The flavors deepen overtime.
And please feel free to forward my newsletter to family and friends.

Conscious Palate archives cont' : june 2009

2011-10-18T17:07:00.003+02:00

I was asked by my niece to prepare the food for her wedding party in California. I took off from Paris my bags full of artisanal goat cheese from Elevage de Corbier (Philippe Gégroire is faithfully at his stand every Sunday morning at the Raspail organic open-air market); bags of Guerande coarse and fine sea salt; heaps of Aquerello organic carnaroli rice; a magnum of Bernard Baudry's 2003 Les Grézeaux Chinon... My bags were anything but light.

Just to mention: it is legal to return to the States from Europe with up to 10 lbs of cheese (some say only pasteurized, but I've never had problems with raw-milk specimens). Best to declare it; the only formality is that sometimes they send you to the bag inspectors to make sure there isn't some undesirable product hidden with the cheese; then they send you merrily on your way.

So I thought for this newsletter I'd share with you a few of the hors d'oeuvres I concocted for the occasion. And it was a real delight to create a bio-sustainable plant-based banquet. Roasted almonds and green olives with lemon zest and fresh thyme;poppy-seed crackers with fresh goat cheese and blueberry jam; chilled carrot-ancho pepper soup with fresh goat cheese-scallion croutons; English-pea blancmange; corn crepe rolls with gorgonzola, honey-balsamic arugula and rosemary; lime marinated tofu rolls... among others.
We drank a Drusian Prosecco from Conegliano-Valdobbiadene, a 2007 Uvaggio Vermentino from Lodi and a Terre Rouge Tête à Tête, a Syrah, Mourvedre, Grenache blend from the Sierra Foothills.
And I wanted to share with you a Commonwealth Club radio program podcast I heard last month: A New National Food Policy - But What About the Hungry? from May 6. Worth listening to. And here's a great NYTimes article "Neighbor, Can You Spare a Plum?" about sharing fruit from heavily boughed neighborhood fruit trees: the ones that hang lustily over backyard fences or patter away the days in lone corners of backyards. There are lots of wonderful links to small enthusiastic neighborhood organizations promoting the idea and savoring the ripe juices...

Roasted Green Olive-Almond Medley

500 gr (1 lb) Mediterranean pitted green olives
500 gr (1 lb) blanched almonds
Zest of 1/2 medium-sized lemon
1/3 tsp fresh thyme leaves
Extra virgin olive oil

Preheat the oven to 400°C.
Lightly toss the olives and almonds separately with olive oil. Bake the almonds in the oven for approx 20 minutes, or until turning golden. Bake the olives for approx 30 minutes. Stir both regularly. Combine in a bowl and toss with the lemon zest and thyme while still hot. Best served warm.

Poppy Seed Crackers

250 gr (1 1/2 cups) unbleached white flour
2 tBsp + 3 tBsp extra-virgin olive oil
150 ml (5 oz) cold water
10 gr (1-2 tBsp) poppy seeds
1/4 tsp freshly ground pepper
1/2 tsp unrefined sea salt plus extra for sprinkling

Combine the flour, olive oil, water, poppy seeds, ground pepper and a generous pinch of sea salt in a bowl, mixing with your hands.
Pour out onto a floured surface and knead until the dough is smooth and elastic, approx 10 minutes. You can also knead it in your Kitchen Aid for about 3 minutes. Wrap in a kitchen towel and set aside to rest for 2-3 hours.

Preheat the oven to 200°C (400°F). Lightly oil a baking sheet.
Cut the dough into three pieces. While working with one keep the others wrapped in the towel. Roll out the dough until very thin (no more than 1/16 inch). Carefully lay it on the greased cookie sheet and cut into 1 3/4 inch squares using a pizza cutter. Brush the top with extra-virgin olive oil. Sprinkle with salt and prick each square twice with a fork. Bake in the oven for about 15 minutes, or until beginning to brown at the edges.

Place a thin square slice of fresh goat cheese in the center of each. Garnish with a dollop of organic blueberry jam or orange marmalade and a fresh rosemary leaf.

Smoky Carrot soup - serves 8

2 Tbsp extra virgin olive oil
2 chopped leeks chopped (white part only)
1 cup chopped red onion
4 garlic cloves, sperm removed and chopped
8 cups chopped carrots
1 cup Marsala wine
13 cups water
1 tsp unrefined sea salt

Sachet of:
1 dried Ancho chili
1 tBsp coriander
Pinch of crushed red pepper flakes
1 tBsp peppercorns
5 flat parsley sprigs
5 fresh thyme sprigs
2 fresh bay leaves

Sweat the leeks, onions and garlic over medium heat until translucent, approx 10 minutes. Add the carrots and Marsala wine, and cook until reduce by half. Add the sachet of herbs, spices and peppers along with the water. Simmer over medium heat until carrots are tender, approx 30 minutes. Remove the sachet and squeeze over the pan to catch the liquid. Blend the carrots and cooking water in a blender. Adjust seasoning with salt and pepper to taste.
Recipe adapted from Sam Kass and the Hull-House Kitchen website.

For the croutons:
Cut 14 - 16 thin slices of sweet baguette. Toast under the broiler until golden on each side.
Combine 2 oz fresh goat cheese with 1/4 cup thinly sliced green onion tops. Season with a pinch of sea salt and freshly ground pepper. Place a small spoonful of the cheese spread on each baguette toast and float 2 on top of each bowl of soup.

Blancmange au Petit Pois - serves 8

1 liter (4 cups plus 4 tBsp) rice milk
1/4 cup pea cooking water
(you should end up with approx 800 ml (3 1/2 cups) liquid after all the cooking
1/2 + 1/8 tsp agar agar (do a test on your agar agar; each brand seems to have "special" gelling properties)
750 gr (1 1/2 lb) English peas in their pods
2 shallots, coarsely chopped
4 bay leaves
3/4 tsp unrefined sea salt
1 medium-sized red onion
A handful fresh mint leaves
Extra-virgin olive oil

Mix the agar agar with 60 ml (1/2 cup) cold or room temperature rice milk and set aside. Shuck the green peas. Wash and drain the pods. Bring the pea pods, shallots, and 3 bay leaves to a boil in the rest of the rice milk. Reduce the heat and simmer for 1 minutes. Strain.

Return rice milk to the pan and add the agar agar-rice milk. Bring to a boil, reduce the heat and simmer for another 5 minutes, stirring occasionally. Remove from the heat and strain. Meanwhile, cook the shucked peas in 3/4 cup water with a pinch of sugar, 1 bay leaf, and a pinch of sea salt for 5 minutes and drain

Transfer the peas to a blender along with the rice milk and cooking water, and blend until smooth. Pour the mixture into individual ramekins and place in the refrigerator for 2-3 hours (or over night - cover with plastic wrap or parchment paper in that case).

While the blancmange is setting, finely chop the mint leaves and just cover with olive oil (that has been slightly heated) and sea salt to taste. Thinly slice the red onions lengthwise. Toss with a bit of olive oil and bake in the oven at 190°C (375°F) until soft turning golden on the edges, approx 10 minutes, stirring from time to time. Remove from the oven and season with sea salt. salt. Unmold the blancmange on individual plates. Garnish with a few roasted onions and a small teaspoonful of mint olive oil.

Corn Crepe Rolls - makes approx 50

Crepe batter:
175 gr (1 cup) corn flour
45 gr (slight 1/3 cup) rice flour
30 gr (1/4 cup) fine cornmeal
3 beaten eggs
1/2 tsp unrefined sea salt
250 ml (1 cup) rice milk (or other)
250 ml (1 cup) water
1 1/2 tbsp olive oil or butter

Filling: 60 gr (2 oz) roasted walnuts
3 tBsp light liquid honey
2 tBsp balsamic vinegar
2 tBsp extra virgin olive oil
2 large handfuls arugula
125 gr (5 oz) gorgonzola (room temperature)
1 rosemary sprig

Sift the corn flour, rice flour, corn meal and sea salt together in a bowl. Add the unbroken eggs. Combine the milk and the water. Gradually whisk into the flour and eggs. Add the olive oil and mix well. Cover with plastic wrap and set in the refrigerator overnight. Just before using dilute with 3-3 tBsp of water.

Make the crepes. Stack them as they're made. When cool, cut off the left and right edges then cut the stack into 1 1/4 in strips.

Combine the honey, olive oil, and balsamic vinegar in a jar and shake to mix. Season with sea salt and freshly ground pepper. Toss the arugula in the vinaigrette; it should be very wet.

Place a knob of gorgonzola on each crepe strip. Place a small handful of dressed arugula on top, followed by a piece of walnut, then a rosemary leaf. Roll up and secure with a toothpick.

Lime Marinated Tofu Rolls - makes approx 36

1 lb firm tofu cut into 1-inch cubes
1/4 cup extra virgin olive oil
2 tBSP sesame oil
1/3 cup tamari
Zest and juice of 1 1/2 limes
2 pepperoncini
36 1-inch strips toasted Nori seaweed
Unrefined sea salt and freshly ground pepper
1 - 2 carrot, for sticks
1 lime for zest strips
Rhubarb chutney

Cut the tofu into approx 1-inch cubes. Lay them out in a baking dish in a single layer.

Combine the olive oil, sesame oil, Tamari, pepperoncini, lime juice and zest, a generous pinch of sea salt and freshly ground pepper. Pour over the tofu. Cover with plastic wrap and set in the refrigerator for at least 4 hours, better over night. Turn the tofu cubes from time to time.

Bring the tofu back to room temperature. Preheat the oven to 200°C (400°F). Bake in the oven on the upper rack for approx 20 min. They should be nicely golden and turning crisp. Set aside to cool in the marinade.

To make the rolls: Toss the tofu cubes in the marinade juice. Wet the end of each Nori seaweed strip with a bit of the marinade. Place a tofu cube on each strip. Place a dollop of rhubarb chutney on top, then a thin carrot stick and a lime peel strip. Roll the tofu up in the seaweed so that the end sits underneath, sealing it.

Consicous Palate archives cont' : july 2009

2011-10-18T16:51:00.002+02:00

I heard that cherry season in the States has been prodigious and succulent. In lieu of that blessed news, here's a blancmange dessert with those crimson red miracles as the topping.

Blancmange w/ fresh cherries and basil coulis - serves 8

450 gr (1 lb) skinned sweet almonds
20 bitter almonds* or 2 drops bitter almond extract
1/2 tsp agar-agar powder (you might want to test the gelling capacity of your agar agar)
125 gr (1/2 cup) unrefined cane sugar
*The sale of bitter almonds seems to be prohibited in the States, as the kernels contain traces of prussic acid, which is lethal. Not to worry, the toxicity is destroyed during heating.

For the almond milk:
Blanch the sweet and bitter almonds (if using them) in boiling water for 30 seconds. Drain and let cool just long enough to be able to handle. Remove the skins by squeezing one end of each almond between your fingers. Soak them in a bowl of cold water for 30 minutes to render them whiter. Drain and transfer to a blender. Add 1 liter (4 1/4 cups) cold water. When the liquid is smooth and milky, strain
through a fine muslin or kitchen towel in two batches, slowly twisting the towel until you have removed all the liquid. The almond milk can be made the day before.

For the blancmange:
Combine the agar-agar and almond milk in a saucepan and let stand for 5 minutes. Add the sugar (and bitter almond extract if using) and bring to a boil over medium heat, stirring from time to time. Lower heat and cook for 30 seconds. Remove from the heat. Pour the blancmange into small individual ramekins. Set aside to cool then refrigerate until firmly set (1 - 2 hours).

For the basil coulis:
1 bunch fresh basil
2 -3 tBsp unrefined cane sugar
2 - 3 tBsp extra-virgin olive oil
1/8 tsp grated zest of an organic lemon
Few grinds of the pepper mill
2 generous handfuls ripe cherries Wash and dry the basil. Place in a blender along with 2 tBsp of both the sugar and olive oil, and blend until smooth. Add a bit more sugar and/or oil if not quite sweet enough or a bit dry. Transfer to a bowl and stir in the lemon zest. Wash and dry the cherries. Pit then dice them. Unmold each blancmange by running a knife around the inside edge of the ramekin, then pulling lightly inward to loosen. Turn each out onto individual dessert plates. Place a generous teaspoon of the basil coulis on top of each and garnish with the cherries. Finish with a generous twist of the pepper mill.

Note: You can also use a mixture of blanched nuts to make the nut milk, for example: 225 gr (1/2 lb) each of almonds and hazelnuts, or
400 gr (14 oz) almonds and 60 gr (1/2 cup) raw pistachios...

Conscious Palate archives cont' : september 2009 - baci di dama

2011-10-18T16:42:00.002+02:00

Last week I threw a cacophony of old pants and worn T-shirts into a bag, along with a pair of high-topped galoshes – rain had been forecast – and hopped on a train, direction the Loire Valley, more specifically the Touraine and Pouillé, a small town along the Cher River, to faire la vendange (pick grapes) in Noëlla Morantin's vineyards

Noëlla is one of an ever expanding gang of small natural wine vintners in the Loire Valley I discovered while vacationing there in August. As Jean-Marie Puzelat, of Clos du Tue Boeuf, explained it to me… it’s one thing to talk about organic wine, which denotes that the grapes used in a wine were grown organically but speaks nothing of the methods used in vinification in which chemical and technological interventions — chaptalization (where sugar is added), the introduction of foreign yeasts, the addition of ample doses of sulfur dioxide, as well as clarification, fining, and filtering of the wine — are so often the norm; and quite another to talk about natural wine, which starts with biodynamically grown grapes and then skillfully vinfied with as little intervention as possible on the part of the winemaker: — The fields are low-yielding, the grapes hand picked. Chaptalization is strictly out, as is the addition of foreign yeasts. No fining or filtration is undertaken, and little or no sulfur dioxide is added – for the purists, sulfur dioxide is off the table. The grapes are left to their own natural process, somewhat of a miracle like the turning of water into wine at the wedding at Canaan. Passionate wine makers, all alchemists of a sort, crafting beautiful wines that sing on the palate and sensually wrap their earthy mineral tones and fresh acidity around the most subtle of dishes.

Early Monday morning, Sept. 14, I showed up at Noëlla’s farmhouse, where she and her partner Laurent Saillard were busy with final preparations — she of course was beaming, as this is the first harvest of grapes from her own estate — and joined the congregation of other vendangeurs et vendangeuses. Each supplied with a pair of secateurs and a pail, we started down the long rows of sturdy grape vines, filling our buckets with plump clusters of Chardonnay then Sauvignon grapes. Kneeling down amidst the thistles and grasses harmoniously growing alongside the grapes, the hours shimmied by; the calisthenics bore into my body a heavy yet luxurious fatigue; the sky, earth, and stillness stretched out and around me.

The sky Tuesday morning was heavy with the promise of rain — good thing I’d brought my galoshes! We got to work plying our pruning shears on the heavy hanging bunches of Cot then Gamay grapes while heavy mist came and went. And though I had planned on picking grapes for the duration of the vendange (10 or so days), by the end of the 2nd day my back was obstinately dissenting. Disheartened, I threw my farrago of old pants and worn T-shirts back into my bag and made my way home to Paris, but not before having sampled Noëlla’s 2008 Cot (from purchased grapes) : smooth, round, with spicy earthiness, it reminded me of a wonderful Dolcetto "little sweet one" from Italy’s regione Piemonte.

I had promised Noëlla to make up a batch of Baci di Dama cookies (a délice created back in 1893 at the Zanotti Bakery in Tortona, a small town in Italy's provincia di Alessandria) for one of the vendange-afternoon coffee breaks. Alas, I’ll be sending them to her through the mail, wrapped with care. Which brings me to this newsletter’s recipe… Seems only fitting that it should Baci di Dama…
Of course there's a plethora of variations on the recipe; the one below is my preferred.

A note: I’ve decided to longer convert the grams, millilitres and litres in my recipes into cups and ounces… The reason being simply that most measuring cups now show multiple measuring units, and measuring grams with a scale is just so much more accurate, and enjoyable — exactly for that reason. I’m all for everyone having a scale in their kitchen! They range from $15 - 100 ... can easily be ordered on Amazon, Sur la Table, Williams Sonoma... A few brands I recommend: Tefal, Salter, Oxo. — Here is a list of the different natural wine makers I visited in the Loire Valley (many have no website, but Bertrand Celce's wine blog Wine Terroirs is a great source of information): Bruno Allion : Domaine de Poncher
Béatrice et Michel Augé : Domaine des Maisons Brulées
Mikael Bouges : Mikael Bouges
Catherine et Pierre Breton : Domaine Breton
Joël Courtault : Domaine de Bel Air
Noëlla Morantin : Noëlla Morantin
Eric Nicolas : Domaine de Bellivière
Pascale Potaire : Les Capriades
Jean-Marie et Thierry Puzelat : Clos du Tue Boeuf
Catherine Roussel et Didier Dagueneau: Clos Roche Blanche
Philippe Tessier : Domaine Philippe Tessier
Claude Papin : Chateau Pierre-Bise

— A few cavistes and wine bars in Paris that carry their wines :
Caves Augé
La Cave de l’Insolite
Ma Cave Fleury
Spring Boutique
Le Verre Volé
Le Pré Verre

— A few wine salons in the Loire Valley and Paris :
Salon des Vins des Vignerons Independants
Les Vins du Coin
de Natura Vini
Vini Circus

— A few cavistes and wine importers in the States who carry their wines :
TerroirSF in San Francisco
Triage Wines in Seattle
LDM Wines in New York
Beaune Imports in Berkeley
Kermit Lynch in Berkeley

Baci di Dama- makes 20

Ingredients :
70 unbleached white flour (I substitute brown rice flour, for its gluten free-ness)
70 gr hazelnuts or filberts (you can substitute lightly toasted blanched almonds)
50 gr softened sweet butter
50 gr cane sugar
30 gr pure 58% dark chocolate
Pinch of salt

— Toast the hazelnuts in the oven at 180 °C (350 °F) for 10 - 15 minutes, or until skins darken and begin to blister and the aroma of roasted nuts begins to seep from the oven. Wrap them in a kitchen towel and let steam for a couple of minutes. Vigorously rub the towel against the nuts to remove the skins. Don't worry about the skins that don't come off. When cool, finely chop to the consistency of coarse flour, or grind them into meal a coffee grinder or the chopper of a hand blender, just don't overdo it or the meal will turn to butter.
—Combine all the ingredients in a bowl; I use my hands to make sure the butter is well distributed throughout. Flatten the dough into a slab about 3/4 inch thick and set in the refrigerator in a covered container for 1 hours.
— Preheat the oven to 160 °C (315 °F). Remove the dough from the refrigerator and cut into 3 pieces. Roll each into a thin log and cut into pieces weighing approx 5 gr. Form each piece into a ball, rolling it between the palms of your hands. (I first squeeze it in the palm of one hand to soften the dough a bit and give it the beginning form of a ball then continue by gently rolling it between both palms. If it breaks apart during the process, tightly squeeze it together again then gently roll between your hands). Place them on a baking sheet, either buttered or lined with parchment paper, spacing them 1-inch apart. Bake on the middle rack of the oven for 18 - 25 minutes. The tops should begin to slightly crack, the bottoms should be gently golden. Let them cool on the baking sheet before removing.
— Break the chocolate into pieces and melt in a bain-marie. Drop the tip-of-a-teaspoonful of chocolate onto the center of the flat side of one cookie and cover with a second. Carefully lay each Baci di Dama down on its side until the chocolate has hardened.
— You can keep them in an air-tight container for up to 1 week.

Wine note: A bottle of Moscato d´Asti from the provincia di Alessandria, or a Champalou Cuvée Moelleuse or Les Fondraux from Vouvray make great company with a plate of Baci di Dama.

Conscious Palate archive cont' : november 2009 - roasted kabocha squash salad

2011-10-18T16:27:00.002+02:00

Chestnuts, pears, pomegranates, quince, persimmons, grapes, apples - varieties unending, clementines, early navel oranges, brussel sprouts, broccoli - its autumnal sweetness, parsnips, rutabega, winter squash - of every shape and color, texture and sweetness, savoy cabbage, topinambur, a plethora of chicories: escarole, catalogna, selvatica, castelfranco, radicchio di chioggia, radicchio di treviso - precoce and tardivo, unshelled walnuts, almonds, hazelnuts from this year's harvest...
Just as the earth would curl up for its long winter slumber it offers up a cornucopia of fruits and vegetables that, much as a colorful garland, festoon the marketplace stands throughout Paris and humbly enhance our daily repasts with their seasonal fragrance. In amidst all these flavors and forms, I recently disovered Kabocha squash, a Japanese variety of winter squash (considered in some cultures to have aphrodisiac properties). Its sweet, nutty flavor and moist, creamy texture are a true delight. Rich in beta-carotene, iron, vitamin C, and potassium, it serves our bodies well during the wintery season.

Now something that was only recently brought to my attention, and which initially quite surprised me, is that the skin of many winter squashes is more than edible, as it softens during cooking, and actually enhances the flavor, texture, and color of each bite. In the salad recipe below, I roast slices of Kabocha squash with its skin, a gentle green-patina, entact. And I can't imagine eating this squash any other way. So give it a try, even with Butternut squash. You'll be surprised at what you've been missing by peeling and throwing away that protective skin.

Now on another note, but always in the sphere of cuisine and nourishment, I thought I'd pass on a podcast I heard on the Commonwealth Club radio program lat month. Daphne Miller, MD and Associate Professor at UCSF, talks of her travels to learn of the foods and healthy diets of indigenous people around the world, and the collection of recipes in her recent book The Jungle Effect. Seems we're always being brought back to the understated fact that eating simple, seasonal, local, and traditional or 'insticntive' diet is the best prescription for a healthy body, spirit, and planet.

Roasted Kabocha Squash Salad - serves 4

500 gr (1 lb) Kabocha squash
4 handfuls escarole
2 sprigs fresh dill leaves
2 sprigs fresh chervil (optional)
1 handful arugula or lambs salad
4 generous tablespoons fresh pomegranate seeds
4 generous tablespoons roasted pumpkin seeds
1 clove garlic, peeled
2generous tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil, plus extra to brush squash
1 generous teaspoon lemon juice
1/2 teaspoon balsamic vinegar
Unrefined sea salt and freshly ground pepper
Pecorino Sardo (or Parmigiano Reggiano) shavings for garnish

Turn on the broiler. Wash the skin of the Kabocha squash with a vegetable brush and dry.
Wash and dry the greens and herbs.
Tear the escarole into uniform pieces.
Pinch the leaves off the dill and chervil sprigs.
Remove any extra long arugula stems.

Cut the squash in half and scoop out the seeds and stringy membranes. I roast the squash without removing the skin as it gives a savory depth and texture to the squash, scrapping off any knotty areas. But feel free to remove it if you prefer. (And don't throw away the seeds... drop them into a pot of water along with a bit of carrot, onion, any discarded escarole leaves, fresh thyme, a bay leaf and simmer until everything is soft (30 minutes or so). Strain and you'll have a tasty vegetable stock.) Place the halves face down on a cutting board, cut off the rounded ends then cut crosswise into 1/2–inch slices. Rub each side of the slices with the garlic, then lightly brush with olive oil. Place in a baking dish, without overlapping the pieces. Set on a rack in the oven positioned 5 inches from the broiler. Roast for approx. 4 minutes on each side, or until just browning. Remove from the oven and sprinkle with sea salt to taste.

Rub the garlic clove around the inside of a salad bowl. Combine the olive oil, lemon juice, and balsamic vinegar in the salad bowl. Add the different greens and herbs and lightly toss. Season to taste with sea salt and freshly ground pepper, adding a drop or two more lemone juice if needed. Divide the salad up between four salad plates.

Cut the roasted squash slices in half and arrange them on top of the salad in a flower pattern. Garnish with the pumpkin and pomegranate seeds, a few Pecorino shavings, and a twist of freshly ground pepper.

Wine note : This salad pairs wonderfully with any number of white wines from the Loire Valley with their generous play of acidity and mineral tones. Uncork a bottle of La Pente de Chevigny (100% Sauvignon) from Mikael Bouges, a natural wine vintner in Faverolles sur Cher, or a Calligramme (100% old-vine Chenin Blanc) from Domaine de Bellivière in Jasnières.

Conscious Palate archives cont' : november 2009 - green tomato tart

2011-10-18T16:22:00.002+02:00

Seems I've been changing hats at the speed of a whirling dervish, and feeling quite dizzy, I must confess. Add to that the euphoric atmosphere of the last week... What a week, what a new day, as the very recent song by Will.i.am declares. Watch the video...

Well, it's now finally time to touch down and send out a new newsletter. One thing I've been so busy doing is revamping my website. I hope you'll take moment and walk through the new layout and pages. By the end of the year I'm hoping to add a series of group classes that will start around springtime in Paris, the Loire Valley and perhaps even in Torino, Italy.

Now on to food... I realize the season's all but over and most green tomatoes have been plucked off the vine. I ran out last week to grab up the last of the harvest from Gilles Flahaut's vegetable stand at the Marché d'Aligre in Paris's 12th arrondissement so I could cook up this savory tart recipe I came up with last year, photograph it, and send it all your way. If you can find no more green tomatoes at your marketplace (I apologize for not getting this to you sooner), I guess you'll have to put the recipe away 'til next year.

There's something so intriguing about the tart, citrus flavor of green tomatoes roasted in a crumbly, buttery pie dough and served garnished with a fresh-mint-infused extra-virgin olive oil and a sprinkle of chopped roasted hazelnuts. That burst of fresh mint with the zingy flavor of the green tomatoes makes for a surprisingly scrumptious savory voyage. I keep the tomatoes undressed - no cheese, no eggs, no milk - just wearing a thin veil of extra-virgin olive oil. Since green tomatoes cook quite rapidly, to achieve the crunchy brown aspect, I cook the tart at a pretty high temperature on the upper oven grate. I hope you'll try out my invention out and let me know what you think. Quite nice to dig into with a 2006 Chinon Clos Guillot from Bernard Baudry, a fresh, pure expression of the Cabernet Franc grape.

An important note: Tomatoes should never be put in the refrigerator, as that almost instantly destroys the flavor. As Russ Parsons stresses in his wonderfully informative book How to Pick a Peach : "Cold temperatures wreak havoc with tomato flavor. Temperatures below 60 degrees reduce the aroma-creating volatiles in the fruit." Now we know why they're a summer fruit! Just keep them in a cool place out of direct sun. Being a climacteric fruit, they continue to ripen after being picked - and are more than often picked "mature" green: at the moment the gel around the seeds begins to soften. If you want them to ripen more rapidly, place them in a closed brown bag, away from direct light; the ethylene gas produced by tomatoes to promote ripening will become more concentrated and speed up the process.

And I'll leave you with this inspiring video and NY Times article about the urban farmer Will Allen from Milwaukee and his Growing Power project.

SAVORY GREEN TOMATO TART - serves 6 - 8

Dough:

200 gr unbleached white flour

100 gr cold butter

Generous pinch unrefined sea salt

Filling:

800 gr (generous 1 ¾ lbs) green tomatoes

3-4 tBsp extra-virgin olive oil

Unrefined sea salt and freshly ground pepper

Mint olive oil:

7-8 tBsp extra-virgin olive oil

4 tBsp coarsely chopped fresh mint leaves

A couple handfuls of hazel nuts, roasted, skinned and coarsely chopped

Unrefined sea salt and freshly ground pepper

— Wash mint leaves, dry well, the coarsely chop. Add to 7-8 tBsp olive oil, along with a generous pinch of sea salt. Set in a very warm place for 3 - 4 hours (on an oven pilot or near a low flame, for example) or slightly warm the oil over low heat and pour over the mint. Let stand for 1 - 2 hours to infuse.

You can also make the mint oil the night before and set in a warm place to infuse.

— Roast hazelnuts in oven preheated to 300 ˚F 0 - 15 minutes, until skins are blistering and that heavenly scent of roasted hazelnuts begins to seep into the kitchen. Roll up in a towel and let steam for 5 minutes then rub the nuts in the towel to remove the loose skins. (Don't fret over the skin that doesn't come off).

— Sift flour into a large bowl. Make a hole in the middle, add butter cut into pieces and salt. Mix together, rubbing the flour and butter between your hands until the mixture becomes granular. Add 2 - 4 tBsp cold water (depending on the freshness of the flour and the humidity outside) and mix lightly with a fork from the outer edge of the bowl inward until mixture begins to come together. Add a bit more water if necessary until you can easily gather the mixture into a ball. Place in a covered bowl and set in the refrigerator for 1 hour.

(I prefer to let the dough sit for an hour on the counter if it’s not too hot outside).

— If you’ve put the dough in the refrigerator remove it. Preheat the oven to 425 ˚ F

— Knead the dough for ½ minute then roll it out on a floured surface to fit a 9-inch pie dish. Line the pie dish and crimp the edges.

— Cut the green tomatoes into ¼-inch rounds. Toss in a bowl with the olive oil, a generous pinch of unrefined sea salt, and freshly ground pepper. (Best to do this just before arranging them in the pie dish so the juices remain in the tomatoes and not at the bottom of the bowl). Arrange the tomatoes in a circular pattern, two layers thick. Cook in oven for approx 20 minutes. Let cool slightly and serve garnished with a tablespoon of the mint olive oil and a sprinkling of roasted hazelnuts.

Previous CONSCIOUS PALATE newsletters can be found on my website.

Conscious Palate archives cont' : - january 2010 - sea plants

2011-10-18T10:53:00.004+02:00

I was out for drinks with friends the other night. Paolo, who is Venetian, was talking about the feast his grandmother had made for the Holidays... Radicchio lasagne for starters. Now mind you his grandmother is 89 years old, and she was up and off at to the marketplace daybreak, her husband, also 89, pulling their shopping trolley behind them up and over bridges and passerelles. Cooking is her passion, the sap of her existence.

Of course she made the lasagne pasta herself, with the help of a hand pasta machine and a beautiful large marble table onto which she hand poured mounds and flung dustings of flour and such. True to the "technique" of the practiced home cook, she uses nary a measuring cup or scale.... weighing out and gauging ingredients instead with her experience, her skill, her flair. Such artistry!

Just about then Robert piped in with his own story of kitchen aptitude. Somewhere in his extended family exists — or did exist — a recipe book that had been compiled by a veteran kitchen cook (mother, aunt, sister, cousin...) of her homespun recipes, in which all the measurements were calculated using a rose tea cup... which, disastrously, eventually broke. And it seems her recipes lost their will to survive as no one quite knew how to proceed without the precious porcelain tool.

As Judith Jones, in the introduction to her cookbook The Pleasures of Cooking for One, so beautifully puts it: "I feel that the language of recipes should reflect the visceral nature of cooking and invite you to participate more fully, rather than have you slavishly follow a formula. That's why I use expressions like "pinch of salt," "a splash of wine," "a sprinkling of parsley," and "a fat clove of garlic," "a handful of spinach leaves." You don't need to measure that wine precisely. Splash some into the hot pan, let it cook down, if indicated, then taste. It's a waste of time and too fussy to stuff that bit of chopped parsley into a tablespoon to make sure you have the "right" amount. There are times when exact measures are important, particularly in baking, but even then beware of trying to prepare a bread dough with such rigid precision, because the water content of flour can vary considerably. The only accurate guide is your hands: whether the dough feels too sticky or too wet."

"I hope that the flexibility I’m encouraging will help you enjoy a more relaxed ease in cooking. Get the feel of a teaspoon of salt by measuring it into your hand before throwing it into the soup pot. Next time, you won’t need the teaspoon measure: your hand will tell you the amount. And the more confident you get, the more you will be encouraged to experiment, to try out your own variations of some of these recipes and play with ideas of your own. Cooking for one can be particularly challenging, because often you’ll find yourself wanting to reduce recipes for a large number of people to a single portion. so you need to use your wits and imagination. And if it doesn’t work perfectly the first time, try again."

I've recently been playing around with tofu and sea vegetables. And as you'll see in the two recipes that follow there are a lot of pinches and handfuls... That's how the recipes came into being — a pinch of this, a splash of that — as well as thanks to an "accident" in which half a bag of sea lettuce became water logged "en transit" and instead of tossing it, I turned it into a pesto of sorts. My curiosity having been piqued, I took some left over broth I'd made from the left-over bits of this and that vegetable and a remaining handful of watercress and came up with this soup. Perhaps they are both still works in progress that you could improve upon by adding a pinch more of this or that... And please let me know the results.

Before the recipes, I wanted to give you this link to a TED video on How to Live to Be 100+ by Dan Beuttner. And another link to a Commonwealth Club audio podcast featuring Raj Patel on How to Reshape Market Society and Redefine Democracy. He speaks passionately about the state of food and hunger in our societies. He mentions a few of the many organizations doing heartfelt work around these issues: Food First, Roots of Change, and the upcoming US Social Forum, June 22 - 26 in Detroit.

Consious Palate archives cont' : april 2010 honey-roasted fennel salad

2011-10-18T10:45:00.002+02:00

You can always tell a crisp fresh fennel bulb by the splays of fine bright green feathery leaves that crown it. And if you happen to run into any wild fennel (which consists of only the feathery leaves) growing in the hills on the outskirts of urbania, gather up the precious stuff, rush home and stir up some wild fennel cakes...

So now if you're in the mood for some fennel...bulbs, give this dish a try.

HONEY-ROASTED FENNEL W/ FRESH GOAT CHEESE - serves 4

3 large or 6 small fresh fennel bulbs
Couple generous squeezes fresh lemon juice
4 tBsp light honey, acacia if available (heat to melt if crystallized)
1 handful hazelnuts or filberts
1 sprig fresh thyme, the leaves removed
1 round fresh goat’s milk cheese (a Selles sur Cher is perfect)
Extra-virgin olive oil
Unrefined sea salt and freshly ground pepper

— Remove the goat cheese from the refrigerator. It should be room temperature.

— Preheat the oven to 160 ˚C (325 ˚F).
— Slice all but 1-inch of the feather-like tops from the fennel bulbs. Finely chop any fresh, fine leaves, place them in a small bowl or ramekin and just cover with extra virgin olive oil. Set in a warm place (near a stove pilot) to infuse for a couple of hours. Just before using season with a pinch of unrefined sea salt. (You can keep the rest of the infused oil in the refrigerator for up to 3 days, but no longer, and find other creative uses for it.)
— Roast the almonds for 10 - 15 minutes, until their skins start to crack and the heavenly scent of roasted nuts begins to seep into the air. Wrap in a kitchen towel and let sit for a few minutes before vigorously rubbing them to free their skins. When they’re cool, I normally take and rub them between my hands over the sink or the towel to remove any remaining skin that is willing. Don’t fuss over the recalcitrant skins that refuse to surrender, just leave them be.
— Just slightly trim the bottom of the fennel bulbs so that all the petals remain intact. Remove the outer petals if tough, otherwise peel them with a vegetable peeler.
— Slice the bulbs lengthwise into good 1/4-inch slices (3-4 slices per person). If they are young, small bulbs, you can simply quarter them. Place in a large baking dish without them overlapping and lightly brush with extra-virgin olive oil.
— Turn on the broiler and, when hot, place the dish at a distance of about 5 inches from the coils or gas and roast until golden brown (about 5 minutes on each side). The fennel should be al dente.
— Remove from the oven and immediately season each slice with a pinch of unrefined sea salt. Drizzle with the lemon juice and honey while still in the baking dish. Let the sauce bubble for a few breaths, then transfer the fennel to a plate and pour the marinade on top. Set aside to marinate for 30 min, turning once or twice.
— To serve, arrange the fennel on 4 individual plates along with a nice wedge of fresh goat cheese. Garnish with a few chopped hazelnuts and a pinch of thyme leaves. Drizzle with the lemon-honey marinade. Top the wedge of goat's milk cheese with a teaspoon of the fennel-infused olive oil and give the whole dish a turn of the pepper grinder. Bon appetit!

Wine note : Try with a dry, slightly floral white wine, such as a Bianco Alcamo from Sicily from the Catarratto grape varietal; a Fiano di Avellino from Camapania and made with the Fiano grape; or a Ciro Bianco, from Calabria and the grape varietal Greco. Living in France, I’d go for a La Dilettante from Pierre et Catherine Breton in Bourgeuil, or a Chateau Pierre-Bise “non-sulfite” Le Haut de la Gard : Anjou (2007), both biodynamically-grown and naturally-vinified white wines. Also a La Croix Boissée (2005) from Bernard Baudry. All 3 of these wines from the Loire Valley are made with 100% Chenin Blanc grapes.

Now for my smattering of articles and such. I've garnered a nice handful over the last three months:
- Inner-City Eco-Warriors in London
- The Femivore’s Dilemma
Radical Homemakers
- United States of Food - Edible Geography
- Your Taco Deconstructed
The Food Environment Atlas - a bit of a hoot
- BBC discovery: Feeding the world:
audio episode 1
audio episode 2
audio episode 3
- UK water use 'worsening global crisis'
- Drinking one cup of coffee costs 140 litres of water
- UNESCO Institute for Water Education monthly magazine
- Don't let big food control what you eat: Industrial food companies like Monsanto, Kraft, Conagra and General Mills control the vast majority of America's food supply. Food safety violations, environmental destruction, and an obesity epidemic are running out of control...
- Where Paris Chefs, Not Prices, Rise: NYTimes

Conscious Palate newsletter archives : may 2010 - red&white radish tart

2011-10-18T10:39:00.002+02:00

How does it always get to be the end of the month so fast? You'd think I'd be up to speed, like all good bloggers, typing away effortlessly day in and day out. Guess I get tangled up in the tucks and folds of life... galloping along. I'm always and still learning to ride its saddle, settle down into its rhythm, gently steer it and let it travel me.One thing I've been having loads of fun doing is photographing the season's earthly bounty when it shows up at the marketplace here in Paris and adding it to my new blog page: SEASONAL HARVEST: from the Loire Valley to Italy's Heel. It will by no way an exhaustive list ,at teast this first year around. But feel free to consult it and let the pictures inspire you to create seasonal wonders for your table. or ask me for suggestions... Every few days or week I'll add more to the list and post the entry on my blog as well as a link to it on my NEW Facebook page (please sign up for it!) and Twitter page (@ cucinaditerresa), and would love to have you follow me.
As I'm writing, the Champs-Elysées, from the Arc du Triomphe to the Rond Point, there where generally rivers of cars, flow has been magically transformed into a large tree-fruit-vegetable garden to bring attention to the plight of farmers. Quite a celebration of the earth sitting on top of hot asphalt; and it attracted the masses. Hope when they close up tonight they are going to pass all the plants, or at least take them back to their fields.

Now I often make my roast radishes recipe with my cooking class participants as something to nibble on during the classes (with a nice glass of Sauvignon from the Loire Valley - say an unfiltered Domaine de Villargeau La Belle Paresseuse 2007, Coteaux du Giennois), and always end up with a big bunch of them left over and sitting in my refrigerator. I mulled over different ways in which I might make use of them and eventually came up with this savory tart recipe. I like it quite a bit and thought I'd share it with you.

Here's a list of links on food and our relationship to it:
TED.org - Graham Hill: Why I'm a Weekend Vegetarian
Grain.org - Pastoralism an untold tale of adaptation and survival.
And from the Roots of Change newsletter:
PlanetGreen - Composting: It's easy, Awesome for the Environment, and Doesn't Have to Be Smelly
Little City Gardens
Farmland.org - Farm land and Food: Re-connected
California Farm Bureau Federation - Congress Starts to Work Early on 2012 Farm Bill
NYTimes - Farmers Cope with Round-Up Resistant Weeds
SFGate - Alice Waters Push for Local, Organic Setting National Agenda

RED and WHITE RADISH TART – serves 6

Pie crust:
200 gr unbleached white flour (170 gr white flour, 30 gr Kamut or Farro flour)
100 gr sweet butter, room temperature
1/3 tsp unrefined sea salt
2-4 tBsp water

Filling:
400 gr red-white radishes, or other young fresh radishes, weighed without tops
125 gr walnuts
Zest of 1 lemon
2 generous handfuls flat parsley, coarsely chopped
1 smaller handful fresh mint, coarsely chopped
Unrefined sea salt and freshly ground WHITE pepper
Extra-virgin olive oil
Garnish:
50 - 60 ml quality Balsamic vinegar

— Sift flour with salt into a large bowl. Make a well in the middle and add the softened butter cut into small pieces. With your hands rub the flour and butter together until the mixture turns crumbly. Add the water and stir lightly with a fork to mix until beginning to hold together (add more water if needed). Gather up into a ball, wrap in waxed paper or food wrap and set aside in a cool place for 1 - 2 hours.
— Wash and dry the radishes. Cut off the tops, and if fresh and tender, set aside.
— Just before rolling out the dough, preheat the oven to 200 ˚C (400 ˚F)
— Place the walnuts, lemon zest, chopped parsley and mint, and a pinch of unrefined sea salt in a chopper. Add 5 – 6 tBsp of water and blend until somewhat smooth. If needed add a bit more water: the mixture should be nicely moist but far from runny. Set aside.
— On a lightly floured surface, lightly knead the dough with the heel of your hand. Shape it again into a ball, flatten and roll out into a circle, about 1/8-inch thick. Line a 25-cm (10-inch) pie or tart dish. Crimp the edges if needed. Set aside.
— Using a mandolin, slice the radishes quite thin. Toss them in a bowl with a pinch of unrefined sea salt, a few twists of freshly ground white pepper, and enough extra-virgin olive oil to generously coat. Set aside.
— Cover the bottom of the pie dish with the walnut mixture. Arrange the radishes on top in an even layer. Bake on the middle rack in the oven for 25 - 30 minutes, or until the edges of the crust are golden and the top radishes turning crisp. Remove and set aside to cool for 15 minutes.
— In a small heavy-bottomed saucepan, over medium-heat, reduce the Balsamic vinegar by two-thirds, or until syrupy (when small airy bubbles begin to cover the surface).

To serve: Drizzle a bit of the reduced balsamic vinegar around each slice and dip each bite of the tart into it. — You can also make a little herb salad to accompany the tart: if there were any nice tender radish leaves, combine them a couple handfuls of flat parsley, a handful of fresh dill and/or chervil, and season with a drizzle of extra-virgin olive oil, a squeeze of fresh lemon juice, a couple of splashes of balsamic vinegar, a pinch of unrefined sea salt and a couple twists of the pepper grinder.

old Conscious Palate newsletter posts : natural wine in the Loire Valley - sept 2009

2011-10-10T10:44:00.003+02:00

I've decided to put up some my older newsletter posts from my website, that seem to have gotten lost in the folds of the net...
here is one from SEPTEMBER 2009 :

Last week I threw a cacophony of old pants and worn T-shirts into a bag, along with a pair of high-topped galoshes – rain had been forecast – and hopped on a train, direction the Loire Valley, more specifically the Touraine and Pouillé, a small town along the Cher River, to faire la vendange (pick grapes) in Noëlla Morantin's vineyards

Noëlla is one of an ever expanding gang of small natural wine vintners in the Loire Valley I discovered while vacationing there in August. As Jean-Marie Puzelat, of Clos du Tue Boeuf, explained it to me… it’s one thing to talk about organic wine, which denotes that the grapes used in a wine were grown organically but speaks nothing of the methods used in vinification in which chemical and technological interventions — chaptalization (where sugar is added), the introduction of foreign yeasts, the addition of ample doses of sulfur dioxide, as well as clarification, fining, and filtering of the wine — are so often the norm; and quite another to talk about natural wine, which starts with biodynamically grown grapes and then skillfully vinfied with as little intervention as possible on the part of the winemaker: — The fields are low-yielding, the grapes hand picked. Chaptalization is strictly out, as is the addition of foreign yeasts. No fining or filtration is undertaken, and little or no sulfur dioxide is added – for the purists, sulfur dioxide is off the table. The grapes are left to their own natural process, somewhat of a miracle like the turning of water into wine at the wedding at Canaan.

Passionate wine makers, all alchemists of a sort, crafting beautiful wines that sing on the palate and sensually wrap their earthy mineral tones and fresh acidity around the most subtle of dishes.

Early Monday morning, Sept. 14, I showed up at Noëlla’s farmhouse, where she and her partner Laurent Saillard were busy with final preparations — she of course was beaming, as this is the first harvest of grapes from her own estate — and joined the congregation of other vendangeurs et vendangeuses. Each supplied with a pair of secateurs and a pail, we started down the long rows of sturdy grape vines, filling our buckets with plump clusters of Chardonnay then Sauvignon grapes. Kneeling down amidst the thistles and grasses harmoniously growing alongside the grapes, the hours shimmied by; the calisthenics bore into my body a heavy yet luxurious fatigue; the sky, earth, and stillness stretched out and around me.

The sky Tuesday morning was heavy with the promise of rain — good thing I’d brought my galoshes! We got to work plying our pruning shears on the heavy hanging bunches of Cot then Gamay grapes while heavy mist came and went. And though I had planned on picking grapes for the duration of the vendange (10 or so days), by the end of the 2nd day my back was obstinately dissenting. Disheartened, I threw my farrago of old pants and worn T-shirts back into my bag and made my way home to Paris, but not before having sampled Noëlla’s 2008 Cot (from purchased grapes) : smooth, round, with spicy earthiness, it reminded me of a wonderful Dolcetto "little sweet one" from Italy’s regione Piemonte.

I had promised Noëlla to make up a batch of Baci di Dama cookies (a délice created back in 1893 at the Zanotti Bakery in Tortona, a small town in Italy's provincia di Alessandria) for one of the vendange-afternoon coffee breaks. Alas, I’ll be sending them to her through the mail, wrapped with care.

Which brings me to this newsletter’s recipe… Seems only fitting that it should Baci di Dama… Of course there's a plethora of variations on the recipe; the one below is my preferred.

A note: I’ve decided to longer convert the grams, millilitres and litres in my recipes into cups and ounces… The reason being simply that most measuring cups now show multiple measuring units, and measuring grams with a scale is just so much more accurate, and enjoyable — exactly for that reason. I’m all for everyone having a scale in their kitchen! They range from $15 - 100 ... can easily be ordered on Amazon, Sur la Table, Williams Sonoma... A few brands I recommend: Tefal, Salter, Oxo.

— Here is a list of the different natural wine makers I visited in the Loire Valley
(many have no website, but Bertrand Celce's wine blog Wine Terroirs is a great source of information):

Bruno Allion : Domaine de Poncher
Béatrice et Michel Augé : Domaine des Maisons Brulées
Mikael Bouges : Mikael Bouges
Catherine et Pierre Breton : Domaine Breton
Joël Courtault : Domaine de Bel Air
Noëlla Morantin : Noëlla Morantin
Eric Nicolas : Domaine de Bellivière
Pascale Potaire : Les Capriades
Jean-Marie et Thierry Puzelat : Clos du Tue Boeuf
Catherine Roussel et Didier Dagueneau: Clos Roche Blanche
Philippe Tessier : Domaine Philippe Tessier
Claude Papin : Chateau Pierre-Bise

— A few cavistes and wine bars in Paris that carry their wines :
Caves Augé
La Cave de l’Insolite
Crus et Découverts
Ma Cave Fleury
Spring Boutique
Le Verre Volé
Le Pré Verre

— A few wine salons in the Loire Valley and Paris :
Salon des Vins des Vignerons Independants
Les Vins du Coin
de Natura Vini
Vini Circus

— A few cavistes and wine importers in the States who carry their wines :
TerroirSF in San Francisco
Triage Wines in Seattle
LDM Wines in New York
Beaune Imports in Berkeley
Kermit Lynch in Berkeley

BACI di DAMA - makes 20

Ingredients :
70 unbleached white flour (I substitute brown rice flour, for its gluten free-ness)
70 gr hazelnuts or filberts (you can substitute lightly toasted blanched almonds)
50 gr softened sweet butter
50 gr cane sugar
30 gr pure 58% dark chocolate
Pinch of salt

— Toast the hazelnuts in the oven at 180 °C (350 °F) for 10 - 15 minutes, or until skins darken and begin to blister and the aroma of roasted nuts begins to seep from the oven. Wrap them in a kitchen towel and let steam for a couple of minutes. Vigorously rub the towel against the nuts to remove the skins. Don't worry about the skins that don't come off. When cool, finely chop to the consistency of coarse flour, or grind them into meal a coffee grinder or the chopper of a hand blender, just don't overdo it or the meal will turn to butter.

— Combine all the ingredients in a bowl; I use my hands to make sure the butter is well distributed throughout. Flatten the dough into a slab about 3/4 inch thick and set in the refrigerator in a covered container for 1 hours.

— Preheat the oven to 160 °C (315 °F). Remove the dough from the refrigerator and cut into 3 pieces. Roll each into a thin log and cut into pieces weighing approx 5 gr. Form each piece into a ball, rolling it between the palms of your hands. (I first squeeze it in the palm of one hand to soften the dough a bit and give it the beginning form of a ball then continue by gently rolling it between both palms. If it breaks apart during the process, tightly squeeze it together again then gently roll between your hands). Place them on a baking sheet, either buttered or lined with parchment paper, spacing them 1-inch apart. Bake on the middle rack of the oven for 18 - 25 minutes. The tops should begin to slightly crack, the bottoms should be gently golden. Let them cool on the baking sheet before removing.

— Break the chocolate into pieces and melt in a bain-marie. Drop the tip-of-a-teaspoonful of chocolate onto the center of the flat side of one cookie and cover with a second. Carefully lay each Baci di Dama down on its side until the chocolate has hardened.

— You can keep them in an air-tight container for up to 1 week.

wine note: A bottle of Moscato d´Asti from the provincia di Alessandria, or a Champalou Cuvée Moelleuse or Les Fondraux from Vouvray make great company with a plate of Baci di Dama.

lingering in the Loire : sept 2011

2011-08-30T18:54:00.032+02:00

Back from the Loire Valley after such a generous stretch of days it truly feels that all the city grit has been rinsed from my cells… The cats rolled and lolled, leapt and stretched out languorously in a mostly gentle sun, the air somewhat heavy — holding restless, stormy thoughts.

I had planned on making headway on my recipe book — I’ve been less than productive recently — but in the end progress continued ploddingly in the countryside where the earth seemed to pull me down to slow rotations. Not to mention the numerous short trips to the caves (cellars) of natural winemakers, along the Cher River in la Touraine, whose vin nature I so love and from whose wine tastings — each seeming to carry on for hours as we got to talking sipping walking through grape vines tasting ripened (ou presque) Sauvignon, Gamay, Cabernet — I came home ready to simply dream or nap.

I revisited Noella Morantin, Joel Courtault, Clos Roche Blanche, and discovered the wines of Bruno Allion, Pascale Potaire, and Christophe Foucher. (Most of these folks have no websites, but wineterroirs.com has visited some and has good info and photos.) All absolute artisans – wizards of a sort – passionately committed to producing “honest, drinkable wines” as les Vins du coin website so simply states.

les Vins du coin is a regional association of winemakers in the Touraine “who all are aware that the earth does not belong to us and that to sustain their craft they must treat it with respect. They are all prepared to take risks in order to produce good grapes and accompany them in the cellar so that they reflect where and when they were grown. Good grapes transformed into honest, drinkable wines. Wines you can drink without waking up with a clouded head.”

And “accompany” is exactly what they do: adding nothing, taking nothing away, and refraining from manipulations of any kind while tending to their vineyards in a sustainably, biodynamically manner.

Christophe Foucher of La Lunotte put it succinctly: it's about increasingly allowing his wine to express its unique personality.

Here’s a striking photo I took on a walk through Joel Courtault’s vineyards…as he pointed out one of the visibly startling differences between natural and conventional wine growing practices (between the rows of his neighbor’s vines there was a robust spraying of weed killer)!

Lovely "good" grapes...

By the way, this is a good website if you're interested in learning more about French vin nature: morethanorganic “dedicated to promoting French natural wine in the English–speaking world.”

As for the unusual weather this year – estival in spring, rain and brooding skies in summer — seems it was a perfect combination for the profusion of wild mushrooms in the region, particularly one called oronge (Cesar's mushroom). Quite a highly regarded edible wild one, and which I had the pleasure of discovering — its vibrant orange/red caps — and savoring — its absolute subtle flavor — thanks to Catherine at Clos Roche Blanche who bequeathed to me a couple, instructing me to simply sauté them in a bit of good olive oil and season with a pinch of sea salt and some freshly ground pepper. Yes, très bon!

And as I was leaving Bruno Allion's Domaine de Pontcher, after one of those lingering wine tastings, he grabbed a couple freshly picked plump overgrown zucchini from the back of his truck and handed them to me, urging me to take them home and cook ‘em up. Their tender pulp was worth discovering, he said (I’d always imagined it tough). And they were splendid!

After roasting and stuffing them (with the tomatoes above), I sat down with a recently bottled Epidote 2008 (100% Sauvignon blanc) from Joel Courtault, and savored the union of flavors that transpired in my mouth. Below is a draft recipe, more a suggestion or guide… any combination and/or quantity of seasonal vegetables, beans, grains, herbs would give applause.

STUFFED "GINORMOUS" ZUCCHINI

= late summer, early fall

1 massive zucchini

Real fresh sweet tomatoes (in season)

Multicolored Swiss chard leaves (you can keep some of the rib)

Garbanzo beans

Garlic

Lemon juice and zest

Wild fennel seed (fresh or dried)

Parmigiano Reggiano and/or Sardo Pecorino

Extra virgin olive oil

Roasted hazelnuts

Unrefined sea salt and freshly ground pepper

— You'll need a bit of cooked garbanzo beans — please don't use canned ones: soak some beans, say 50 gr / 1.5 oz, over night (or in boiling water for 1 - 2 hours). Discard the soaking water. Cover with fresh water by 2 inches (depending on how old your beans are, they'll take longer to cook and thus will need more water). Add 1 - 2 fresh bay leaves and a whole clove of garlic. Cover and bring to a boil over medium heat. Reduce to medium-low and cook until al dente... mine cooked in 30 minutes. Once they start to soften you can add some coarse sea salt to taste.

— Cut your ginormous zucchini into 4 - 6 thick rounds (mine weighed 1 kg / 2 lbs) and roast on one flat side on a lightly oiled baking dish in an oven preheated to 200˚C (400 ˚F) for 25 - 20 minutes, depending on size. Needs to be a bit al dente, so check with a sharp knife... if it enters with a bit of resistance, you're probably there. Scrape out inner pulp and seeds and set aside to drain in a strainer. Sprinkle a bit of sea salt in each round.

— Bring a large covered pan of water to a boil and remove from the heat. Score your tomatoes, 400 - 500 gr / 1 lb, and blanch for 45 seconds in the water. Peel then seed them over a bowl to catch any juice. Cut into bite-sized dice, place in a strainer and drain all juice over the same bowl. Toss with a bit of sea salt. (Don't throw the skins, seeds and juice away. Pass through a food mill, put in the fridge and use for another dish the following day.)

— Freshly grate a generous amount Parmigiano Reggiano and/or Sardo Pecorino.

— In the meantime, wash 300 - 400 gr / 3/4 lb of Swiss chard. Cut off the ribs then using only the upper part of the ribs, cut into small dice. Chop the Swiss chard very coarsely. Just wilt in a large covered skillet over medium-high heat, with a couple splashes of water, for 3 - 4 minutes. Drain and set aside to cool while you sauté in a drizzle of olive oil in the same skillet. Add first the ribs and sauté for a couple of minutes, then add 1 - 2 garlic cloves, coarsely chopped, and sauté for another minute or so. Squeeze the excess water out of the Swiss chard leaves. Add to the garlic and ribs, and sauté for another 3 - 4 of minutes. Turn off the heat and add a pinch or two of sea salt to taste, a couple three squeezes of fresh lemon juice and the zest of half a lemon. Stir and transfer to a bowl. Add the drained zucchini scrapings and seeds, the tomatoes, garbanzo beans, a couple small handfuls of grated Parmigiano, and a good pinch of wild fennel seeds (photo above) — I'd gathered some, quite dry on the vine, a few days before, and love their parfum. Not sure "un-wild" fennel seeds would offer the same subtle fragrance (as with lavender, as Giuseppina pointed out to me down in the Luberon, the cultivated stuff has long since lost its "wild" subtlety). There's still time this year to gather some up... simply take a walk out along a country trail just about anywhere where summer is coming to an end and wild fennel grows, and you could surely pick yourself a nice bouquet, take them home, and let them hang somewhere dark until completely dry - if not already. (I'll do a test and get back to you on the cultivated fennel seeds, or you try it and get back to me...)

— Season with sea salt and freshly ground pepper to taste.

— If you have any roasted hazelnuts around, chop them coarsely. Otherwise roast a handful in the oven at 160 ˚C (325 ˚F) for about 15 minutes. Wrap in a linen towel and let steam for a few minutes. Rub the towel together to remove the skins then chop coarsely.

— Heat up your broiler.

— Now take your stuffing and generously fill in the center of each zucchini round, packing it down and letting it overflow on top. Sprinkle with some roasted hazelnuts then a nice thick blanket of Parmigiano. Place under the broiler and brown the cheese, 5 - 7 minutes.

This is more a warm than a "hot" dish... If you prefer steam coming off your main plate, try this as an appetizer.

As for wine: I drank it with Joel Courtault's 2008 Epidote (100% Sauvignon Blanc). Would've been lovely with Hervé Villemade's La Bodice (Sauvignon/Chardonnay blend), as well. Or Bruno Allion's Surin (100% Sauvignon Blanc). The white wine has to have that mineral content, as only vin nature has, and not be too dry. Some importers and merchants of natural wines from France are : Louis Dressner in New York, Triage in Seattle, Terroir SF and Arlequin Wine Merchant in San Francisco. More on French vin nature and paring with vegetable dishes... coming soon.

And finally this is Dominique... I fell in love with him in the Loire.

swimming in tomatoes

2011-08-03T17:35:00.013+02:00

Went on a Trip last night (at the local movie theater)... following Steve Coogan and Ron Bryford as they tour the north of England. A gem of a "foodie" road trip / documentary filmed by Micheal Winterbottom accompanying the two actors (and their more than brilliant vocal impersonations of sundry English actors — though Rob Bryford's take on Woody Allen is more than impressive) through stunning landscapes along the two-lane winding roads they bump along as they make their way toward hamlets hosting inns with award-winning kitchens the likes of Yorke Arms, Hipping Hill, Hollbeck Ghyll, l'Enclume, and Angel at Hetton, where Coogan and Bryford baldly self indulge in one culinary creation after another, the description of each dish deftly (if not somewhat dumbfoundingly) enunciated by staunch mâitres d'hôtel, the whole interspersed with swirling "backstage" views of meticulous sleights of hand performed by white-toqued armies standing at attention before armored stoves. That was a "salivating" mouthful! Worth a see.....

Now back to the more humble characteristics and fare of the home kitchen, and that celebrated fruit of the nightshade family - the unpretentious tomato.

Though heat has not been much of a topic of discussion in Paris (except to express amazement as to its absence in the weather forecast) and thus unable to unleash its persuasive power of enticement in recruiting one into blending up a nice thirst-quenching summer soup, the availability of seasonal tomatoes of all shapes, sizes and colors (perhaps still needing a bit of lounging in a fruit basket to sufficiently ripen) have their own compelling power.

Thus I undertook to create a simple red gazpacho with a darkly deep tang. First thing I did was set aside the cucumber, replacing it with young fresh radishes — bulb, root, even a bit of the stem. Roasted the peppers The rest is down below. I came up with this "basil chutney" served on bruschetta that goes quite wonderfully with the gazpacho.

Here's a rousing article on how to turn all those peelings, clippings, skins, leaves, rinds, roots, shavings, seeds... we normally throw away into luscious bits of flavoring and food.
And here's an op-ed piece by Mark Bittman, doing what he does so well: write about food and food policy.

a variation on GAZPACHO – serves 4
= best (or only) in summer and early autumn

500 gr / 16 oz lovely sweet, juicy tomatoes (skinned and the seeds removed)… of your choice
100 gr red pepper (1 large pepper)
100 gr red radishes
Pinch of Espelette* powder
1 lime for fresh juice and zest (if unavailable, or transported too far, substitute lemon)
Unrefined sea salt and freshly ground WHITE pepper
1 sprig fresh rosemary
1 tBsp extra virgin olive oil
200 ml water

— Zest then juice the lime and set aside for the moment.
— Heat 100 ml of water to boiling. Add the rosemary sprig and let infuse for 15 minutes. Remove the sprig and set the water in the refrigerator.
— Roast the red pepper under the broiler, turning frequently, until blackened on all sides, and top and bottom. Place in a covered bowl to steam for 5 minutes then peel and remove any seeds and white membrane. Transfer to a blender. (Don't discard the skins and seeds.)
— Slightly score the bottom of each tomato. Bring a large covered pot of water to a boil. Turn off the heat. Add the tomatoes and leave for 1 - 2 minutes. Remove them with a spider or slotted spoon. Cool off in cold running water. Peel off the skins and cut in halves or quarters and remove the seeds, reserving both. Transfer the tomatoes to the blender. Pass the tomato skins and seeds, along with the red pepper skins and seeds through a food mill to capture all the wonderful juice and flavorings. Strain out any wayward seeds and add to the blender.
— Cut the radishes into smaller pieces and add to the blender.
— Blend until smooth. Add just enough of the cold rosemary water for desired consistency. Squeeze in 2 - 3 teaspoons of fresh lime juice (or to taste). Add the olive oil, a generous pinch of Espelette powder (to taste), sea salt (to taste), and a few twists of fresh white pepper. Blend and set in the refrigerator for at least 1 hour. Even better if made the night before to allow for the flavors to harmonize.
— Just before serving add the lime zest. Correct the seasoning and/or consistency as desired.

for the bruschetta :
8 ½-inch slices of baguette
Small handful roasted walnuts
6 – 10 fresh basil leaves (depending on size)
Zest of ½ lime (or lemon)
1 small carrot
Extra virgin olive oil
Unrefined sea salt

— Zest the lime or lemon and set in a warm place (such as over a stove pilot) for 15 minutes or longer, to dry out the zest.
— Roast the walnuts in an oven preheated to 160 ˚C (325 ˚F) for approx 10 minutes. Coarsely chop.
— Grate the carrot (or very thinly slice with a mandolin then cut into small dice) - enough for 2 tablespoonfuls.
— Pile the basil leaves on top of each other and roll up lengthwise. Thinly slice crosswise.
— Combine all the ingredients in a bowl, along with a couple drizzles of olive oil and a pinch of sea salt to taste.
— Toast the slices of baguette under the broiler until golden brown on both sides. Brush with olive oil and top with a spoonful of "basil chutney.”

to serve :
Divide the gazpacho between 4 bowls. Give a drizzle of olive oil and a twist of fresh white pepper. Serve each bowl with 2 bruschetta.

* Espelette is a variety of chili pepper (origin: Mexican) grown in the commune of Espelette in France's Basque region along the border with Spain. It's appreciated for its slight smokey tone and gentle fieriness. I think it's available at specialty stores in the States. If you can't find it, you might try substituting ancho chili powder, but test for hotness... might be a bit more fiery.

foraging in the Luberon

2011-07-05T17:25:00.027+02:00

Got an email in May from Giuseppina, a Venetian cook whom I met last winter, as rain was pelting Parisian cobblestones, at Antoinette's, a friend and exuberant tour guide of myriad historical, cultural, and gourmet itineraries in Paris.

Now it was May, the skies having shed not a drop of water in months. Down south in the Luberon (where Giuseppina, the nimble-spirited Venetian resides and cooks up seasonal sensations for her clientele) warmth was rustling through golden leaf and branch.

She was inviting me down for a visit, and I said yes!!

Under a careening blue sky and robust sun, we took off from Goult, where Giuseppina lives, to visit Gordes et Joucas, two splendidly ancient and lovingly restored villages just up the road. And thus began hours of foraging...

Walking up the windy hilltop-town paths, we came across — I should say, Giuseppina pointed out — WILD savory : dill : rosemary : thyme : lavender (a scent so much lighter in camphor than that cultivated) : poppies : arugula : blette (a leafy green similar to Swiss chard) : young dandelion leaves and, of course, fennel (without the bulb, as grows all wild fennel). We came home with armfuls of it all - a treasure trove of flavors, textures, scents.

But back to the fennel... Giuseppina was in search of a good amount for a fennel liquor she makes — that's pretty heavenly! So we took off for another spot she'd "smelled out" last spring... or the spring before. I must say she knows her foraging! Guess we found more than enough healthy fronds... or so her smile would imply.

As we picked the bushy leaves, she explained that the supple thin upper stems can be candied (a bit of a patience required, peeling off the exterior of each and every thin stem) and served creatively with any number of savory or sweet dishes. (Unfortunately we had no time to candy the stems and so I have no recipe to share... yet.)

When we got back to her home, she filled a large canning jar with the fennel (unwashed) then covered it generously with pure alcohol. A couple of hours later the liquid was an intense emerald green.

Now we had all these vibrant herbs and green leaves, and the first thing Giuseppina did was wash them all; she told me she'd discovered that leaving the field-road dust on the leaves causes them to wilt in the refrigerator. (Funny, I myself had noticed back in Paris, when putting my Swiss chard and kale and arugula, freshly picked from the neighborhood garden where I grow it, into the refrigerator (thinking it best not to wash ahead of using), the next day all the leaves were wilted... She's right.) Washed clean, they offered themselves up as crisp as can be when pulled out the next morning to make quique. And so began (or continued) our cooking spree...

Quique... a Niçois specialty. A simple, rustic pasta made with freshly chopped bette kneaded right into the dough. And for this I do have the recipe... from Cuisine traditionelle en pays niçois by Bernard Duplessy. It was Giusepinna who had spied it out and was curious to make it. So she/we did. Nothing much to it...

QUIQUE - serves 6 - 8

quique :
600 gr / 21 oz unbleached flour
1 egg, slightly beaten
400 gr / 14 oz Swiss chard (or arugula, or any other green leaf = or mixture thereof - that inspires you)
1 tBsp olive oil
Unrefined sea sat, COARSE and fine

tomato sauce :
500 gr / 16 oz cherry tomatoes. washed, dried, and halved
Generous handful fresh basil leaves (or 1 - 2 sprigs fresh marjoram)
1 - 2 large garlic cloves, peeled, cut in half, the sprouts removed, then quartered
Extra virgin olive oil
Unrefined sea sat and freshly ground pepper
Parmigiano-Reggiano (freshly grated or as shavings) for garnish

for the quique :
— Wash and spin dry the Swiss chard. Remove any ribs. Pile the leaves on top of each other and finely chop crosswise then lengthwise. Place in a kitchen towel and vigorously twist to squeeze dry. Transfer to a large bowl.
— Mix in the beaten egg, olive oil, and a generous pinch of sea salt. Add the flour bit by git, combining well. Add enough water ( approx 200 ml) to form a supple dough, just short of sticky. Start with 50 ml of water then another until the dough comes away from the sides of the bowl. Pour out onto a well-floured surface and knead for 3 - 4 minutes. Form into a ball (the dough should spring back when you poke your finger into it.) Turn the bowl upside down over the dough and let sit for 3 hours.

— Knead the dough once or twice on a freshly floured surface. Roll out in the form of a rectangle 3 ml (1/8-in) thick. (You can do this in two batches, keeping the remaining dough covered.) Dust generously with flour. Using a pizza cutter, cut the dough into 5 x 2-cm (2 x 3/4-in) pieces.

— Bring a large covered pot of water to a boil. Salt the water: use 10 - 15 gr (1 small tBsp) of COARSE sea salt per liter of water and approx. 1 liter of water for 100 gr (3.5 oz) of pasta. Add the quique and stir to assure that none are sticking together. Cook at a rolling boil for 10 minutes.

for the tomato sauce :

While the water is coming to a boil and the pasta cooking. heat a generous drizzle of olive oil in a large skillet. Add the tomatoes, arranging them side by side, cut side down. Add the garlic. Cook without stirring over medium-low heat until the tomatoes have melted (pressing down in the center of one, it will fall...), approx. 7 - 10 minutes. Add the basil leaves and cook for another minute or two until wilted. Season with sea salt and gently stir to combine.

— Drain the quique, reserving a ladle of the cooking water.

to serve :
Divide the quique between 6 - 8 plates. Top with a couple generous spoonfuls of the tomatoes. Add the cooking water to the skillet and reduce until thickened over medium-high heat. Drizzle a bit on top of each plate. Give a couple grinds of pepper and garnish with Parmigiano-Reggiano.

carousing with carrot tops

2011-05-17T18:26:00.010+02:00

After the second warmest April since 1900, cooler weather has blown in...

According to Catherine Roussel, at the Clos Roche Blanche winery in the Touraine, whom I visited a few weeks ago, a warm and sunny April can bring about les mauvaises surprises (unpleasant surprises) in May... She was alluding to the Saints de Glace (Ice Saints), a climatological period in mid-May when temperatures can fall to chilly degrees. In the Middle Ages medieval feast days were celebrated during this time and those working the land would call upon the various saints - Mamertus, Pancrus, Servatius, Boniface, Yves, and Bernardino - after which the feast days were named, to guard their crops from a cold snap and possible early morning frost (a phenomenon called la lune rousse (Pink Moon), the lunar phase following Easter, when clear night skies carry the risk of frost which, burning newly emerging shoots, turns them red). Catherine mentioned an old saying I was unfamiliar with: "s’il gèle à la Saint-Bernardin, adieu le vin," (if it frosts on San Bernardino, say goodbye to the vino). San Bernadino Day is on May 20, after which the risk of frost passes... so just a couple more days of breath holding.

Now I had a bunch of very fresh carrots with very fresh tops I bought at the marché the other day... off and drop them in the trash—such a waste—I thought of making a carrot-top pesto, a little green soup. But being that I had planned on making some ravioli dough - still learning the secrets of ravioli making - I thought it might be interesting to make a filling with the bushy green things.... which is exactly what I did, and was quite pleased with the results. So I thought I'd share them with you (way down below...)

Speaking of throwing food away, I'm sure many of you are aware of the recent FAO study on food waste: about one third of the food produced worldwide each year - some 1.3 billion tons - is lost or wasted! Partially through inefficient processing, but much by our own hands - particularly fresh fruits and vegetables. You can read the full text Global Food Losses and Food Waste.

I always try to find ways of using as much of the fresh produce or product I'm working with as possible... when I think of the beet greens that are sheared off by vendors at the request of their clients ...Cooked till slightly wilted, rapidly sautéed with a bit of garlic then seasoned with a pinch of good sea salt, a twist of the pepper grinder, a squeeze of lemon juice and a pinch of the zest, they are simply one of spring's culinary delights, and might I say extremely nourishing - full of all sorts of those "oids," "enes," "ains,"and "ants."

Here are a few of the things I do to get the most out of the Earth and keep my waste down:

— I never throw the rind of lemons away; before juicing, I peel them and use them for zest - with my might Microplane - perhaps later in the day or the following day or two (they'll keep nicely for 2 - 3 days in an air-tight jar in the fridge), or make curlicues out of them. Or I collect them, along with my orange or grapefruit rinds, which I never throw away either, put them in the fridge in an air-tight glass jar until I have a nice little pile of them (they'll remain fresh for 4 - 5 days in the fridge) then make up a batch of candied peels.

— A friend in Paris introduced me to this: always pass the strained cooked vegetables from your homemade broth or stock through a food mill instead of throwing them away. Served heated up with a splash of water or broth, a drizzle of extra-virgin olive oil, a sprinkle of good sea salt, and a twist of the pepper grinder makes for a great quick soup.

— I often make fresh almond milk, and after squeezing the milk through a porous linen (or muslin) towel, there's always that nice ball of dry pulp or meal left in the towel. I spread it out thin on a large baking sheet or pan and if it's warm outside, set in the hot sun until it dries ( a few hours), stirring it up from time to time. If there's no sun, I put it in an oven warmed to 80 ˚C (175 ˚F), leaving the door ajar, and cook until dried out (1 - 2 hours), stirring from time to time and being careful not to let them brown. I then put the dried meal in a chopper and grind it up fine. It can then be used as a substitute for bread crumbs, or added to a pastry dough, or... I've kept if for up to a month in an air-tight jar in the fridge.

— If you have a large freezer, which I don't, throw all your skins and peels and parings into Ziploc bags and toss them into that cold space. When you have a sufficient amount, spend the morning making a big batch of vegetable broth, adding all the parings - it will certainly give you a robust stock. You can then freeze it in quart size jars, defrost and dilute with water or boil to reduce, and make up a scrumptious risotto or soup.

— All the fresh green tops of radishes, beets, turnips, carrots, fennel - wild or tamed, etc. (especially in spring) can all be used in any variety of ways: made into a pesto; lightly wilted and sautéed

— And when I can't think of anything else to do with my parings, I cut them up into small pieces and compost them... I'm lucky to be a member of a neighborhood garden in Paris where I have a compost bin.

Yes, it all takes time, thought and organization, but what a rewarding way to go full circle with your kitchen activities.

By the way, it was International Compost Awareness Week at the beginning of May!) Here are some good reasons to start composting and some basic information about food waste.

Now on to the carrot-top ravioli recipe..... of course you'll need a kitchen scale. (I should start a campaign : a scale in every American kitchen!) Photo of recipe above.

CARROT-TOP RAVIOLI - serves 4 - 6

for the ravioli dough :
300 gr /10 oz unbleached flour
3 large eggs
1 1/2 tsp extra-virgin olive oil

for the filling :
150 gr / 5.5 oz young fresh organic carrot tops
120 gr / 4.5 oz fresh smallish carrots, sliced paper thin and halved if rather large - should be the size of a dime)

120 ml / 4.5 oz goat's milk yogurt
100 gr / 3.5 oz Parmigiano-Reggiano, freshly grated
1 large garlic clove, peeled and left whole
Extra-virgin olive oil
Freshly ground pepper
Unrefined sea slat

for the sauce :
100 gr / 8 tBsp unsalted butter
100 g / 8 tBsp extra-virgin olive oil
Zest of 1 - 2 organic lemons, the peel scrubbed and dried
Handful roasted walnuts, coarsely chopped

Pour the flour onto a dry work space. Make a large well in the middle with a dough scrapper. Add the eggs one at a time, the olive oil, and a good pinch of sea salt.

Gently break the egg yolks then gradually begin stirring in the flour from around the edge of the well, without breaking it.

When enough of the flour has been incorporated to keep the eggs from running, use the dough scrapper to continue adding flour.

As the dough begins to take form, start kneading it with your hands. You'll have to gauge when you've incorporated enough flour: the dough should no longer be sticky but remain supple - too much flour and you'll have a dry, stiff dough. Don't worry if there's flour left over. Sift out any crusty pieces and set aside for dusting while rolling out the dough. (It might take a few tries to get the dough down.)

Form the dough into a somewhat long roll and holding the end closest to you with one hand start folding and kneading the other end inward until you reach your other end. Now it should be longer crosswise, so turn the dough and repeat the process, kneading for a couple minutes.

Form into a ball. Place in a covered container or cover with plastic wrap and set in the refrigerator for 20 minutes.

In the meantime make the filling :

Wash and dry the carrot tops. Remove the leaves from the stems and coarsely chop. Cook them in a skillet with water to cover the bottom of the pan over medium heat for a couple of minutes, stirring frequently, then remove them. Wipe out the skillet. Put a generous drizzle of olive oil in the pan. Add the whole garlic clove and cook over medium-low heat until turning golden. Remove the garlic clove (instead of tossing it, eat it...) and add the carrot slices. Cook over medium-low heat for a couple of minutes, stirring frequently. Return the carrot tops to the skillet and cook for another couple of minutes. Season with sea salt and freshly ground pepper. Transfer to a bowl and mix in the goat's milk yogurt and Parmigiano-Reggiano. Set aside.

Remove the dough from the refrigerator and begin rolling it out. Dust both sides of the dough then fold one end over your rolling pin and roll forward over the dough, pressing your hands outward toward the ends of the rolling pin.

Continue dusting and turning as you go...

The dough should be quite thin and have the same thickness everywhere. If not, roll it out where it seems thicker.

Now cut the dough into 2 or 4 equal pieces (keep the pieces you're not working with covered with a linen towel so they don't dry out).

Put a small spoonful of the filling at intervals of 1-inch, leaving a 1/2-inch border around the edges. Center a second piece of dough on top and begin firmly pressing down with the flat of your finger the length of the dough between the filling, then crosswise, and finally around the edges, trying to remove all the air. If the edges are a becoming dry, wet your finger with a a bit of beaten egg and wipe along them. Take a small fluted pastry wheel and cut around each ravioli (each should be about 5 cm / 2 inches square). Dust with flour so they don't stick together.

Bring a large covered pot of water to a boil. Add a generous amount of coarse sea salt.

While the water is heating, heat the butter and olive oil in a skillet over low heat. Add the lemon zest and a pinch of sea salt.

Drop the ravioli in the boiling water and cook for 5 minutes. Remove with a slotted spoon and place immediately in soup plates. Generously spoon the sauce over each plate. Garnish with the roasted walnuts and a twist of the pepper grinder. You can place a bowl of grated Parmigiano-Reggiano on the table for people to pass around.

That was long... Finished. Enjoy!

By the way, if you don't want or have time to make the pasta, you can use won ton wrappers.

Dandelion spring

2011-04-05T19:14:00.002+02:00

April 2010

Always takes a a day or 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 to get rolling again, find again my "cobblestone legs" so to speak.... as I just returned to Paris from the Bay Area and sundry side trips to mountains and other seasides. 3 jam-packed weeks of observing the rain and snow, enjoying family and friends, cooking and savoring.

I couldn't get away from dandelion greens... early spring they come out en masse. And I can't say I wanted to get away from them.
I am a fan of those brightly bitter "tooth" shaped leaves: dente di leone in Italian. Difficult it was not to grab a bunch or two or three... they were on vegetable stands and in produce sections everywhere I went: the Derby and Temescal farmer's markets, Berkeley Bowl, Rainbow Grocery, Olympia Food Co-op in WA... And to boot, quite a tonic and vitamin-mineral packed plant dandelion is, from the root to the flower. And to think that most of us grew up thinking of it as a weed. Best to gather them up yourself.. from empty lots, backyards, hillsides... That thrilling sense of freely sharing in Earth's bounty. If missed them this springtime, they can find again in fall — best to pick them before they flower.

My 2nd edition Bay Area cooking class series was full of flavor and flair... 3 evenings of eager hands and expectant palates , which I think - hope - were well satiated. And dandelion leaves were definitely on the menu: they went into the Torta Pasqualina, were served wilted with potato gnocchi, and almost ended up in the pesto. (Know that I think of it, I'll have to play with that idea...)

You can read what Sarah Henry had to say on her blog and on KQED's BayAreaBites.

Since Easter, or Bunny Day, or Multi-Colored Egg Day is right around the corner, and Torta Pasqualina is a typical dish from Italy's Ligurian region, generally served at Easter — hence its name — thought I'd give you the recipe. You might be inspired to make it in the next couple of weeks. This is one ancient savory and quite delectable pie... having been baked in ovens as far back as the 1400s.

Swiss chard is the traditional leafy green in the filling, although I like to use a blend of spring’s varied offerings (including dandelion) - for their bright bitterness. Amazingly in times past the layers of pastry, top and bottom, numbered 33 — the age of Jesus when he died. Imagine the rolling involved! The more “pragmatic” number of 4 (for the seasons perhaps) is now the prevalent quantity.

A work of love it is to fashion, but Torta Pasuqalina is both a feast for the eyes and an absolutely delectable dish…

TORTA PASQUALINA : serves 8 - 10

pastry dough :
350 ml / 1 ½ C / 12 oz cold water
600 gr / 6 C / 22 oz unbleached white flour
35 ml / 2 tBsp extra-virgin olive oil
½ tsp unrefined sea salt

12-inch springform pan or equivalent

filling :
1.2 kg / 3.5 lbs leafy greens: Swiss chard, kale, spinach, dandelion, beet, turnip...
4 tBsp chopped red onion
3 sprigs fresh marjoram, leaves removed
Zest of ½ lemon, scrubbed and dried
110 gr / 4 oz Parmigaino-Reggiano
500 gr / 2 ½ C / 18 oz sheep ricotta
11 kindly-reared eggs
Pinch of ground nutmeg
Unrefined sea salt
Freshly ground pepper
Extra-virgin olive oil

for the dough :
— Combine the sifted flour, olive oil, and water in a bowl. Once the liquids are incorporated into the flour, pour out onto a floured surface and knead for 5 minutes; the dough should be smooth and elastic, exhibiting “blisters” as you fold it over. (You can also knead it in a Kitchen Aid with a dough hook, on speed 2 for no more than 2 minutes.) Cover with a towel and set aside for 1 hour.

for the filling :
— Wash the greens. Transfer to a skillet without spinning dry (in 3 - 4 batches) and cook covered until wilted, 3 – 5 minutes. Transfer each batch to a strainer. Add a few splashes of water to the skillet if needed. When cool, squeeze out any excess water then finely chop: flatten the mass of leaves on a cutting board, cut crosswise every ½ inch and likewise lengthwise.
— Sauté the onion in a heated drizzle of olive oil over medium–low heat until transparent, stirring occasionally, about 7 minutes. Add the chopped greens and and cook over medium heat for 4 – 5 minutes. Transfer to a bowl and stir in 2 tBsp olive oil, marjoram leaves, lemon zest, 50 gr / ¼ C / 2 oz of grated Parmigiano-Reggiano. Season with sea salt to taste and a few twists of freshly ground pepper.
— In a second bowl whisk the ricotta, nutmeg, 2 eggs,
30 gr / 3 tBsp / 1 oz of grated Parmigiano-Reggiano, and a couple generous pinches of sea salt to a creamy consistency.

for the pie :
— Preheat the oven to 180 ˚C (350 ˚F).
— Oil the bottom and sides of the cake pan with olive oil. Cut the pastry dough into 4 pieces: 2 larger (300 gr), 2 smaller (180 gr), and form them into balls. On a well-floured surface, roll one of the larger balls out quite thin (the thickness of a linen towel) and large enough so that it will generously overlap the edges of the cake pan. Line the cake pan with this sheet of dough and generously brush both the bottom and sides with olive oil. Roll out the second larger ball of dough to the similar dimensions and place it on top of the first sheet, letting the excess hang over the edge of the pan.

— Fill the bottom of the pan with the greens, leveling off the surface. Cover with the ricotta mixture, leveling off the surface. Making 9 deep wells in a circle toward the outer edge of the pan, but not too close to the edge, and one in the center. Break each egg, one by one, and separate the yolk, sliding it gently into one of the wells (be careful not to break it). Continue with the rest of the eggs. When all of the wells have been filled, cover the top with a few tablespoons of the egg whites (whisk them a bit at first for easier spreading. Sprinkle with 30 gr / 3 tBsp / 1 oz of grated Parmigiano-Reggiano.

— Roll out one of the smaller balls of dough to the same thickness as above and lay it over the top of the pan, letting the excess hang over the edges. Generously brush it with olive oil. Roll out the last ball of dough and lay it over the top. Take a kitchen scissor and cut off all but ½ - ¾ inch of the excess dough then fold inward to form a sort of cord, sealing the pie. Take a fork and press downward on the cord all around the pan, flattening it. Brush the top with olive oil. Bake in the oven on the middle rack for 45 minutes. Let cool slightly before cutting.

Note : Torta Pasqualina can also be made earlier in the day and served at room temperature

Wine note : The perfect wine would be a Cinque Terre doc from Liguria - difficult to find in the States. A close second might be a biodynamically-grown Sauvignon Blanc or Romorantin from the Loire Valley: Noella Morantin, Mikael Bouges, Hervé Villemade, Clos Roche Blanche...

(Cinque Terre DOC is a white wine from the provincia della Spezia in Liguria, Italy along the Ligurian Riviera: a suite of five fishing villages whose narrowly terraced vineyards are precariously carved into steep cliffs towering above the sea. A sumptuously dry and delicately floral wine from a blend of Bosco, Albarola, and Vermintino grapes, it is perfectly suited for the savory tarts, farinata, and fresh anchovies of the region.)

Musings on Farmers' Markets

2011-01-31T15:57:00.003+01:00

Here it is, the last stretch of winter... and I'm back - after a long silence - with a simple winter salad recipe.

Early morning excursions to the marché (open-air market) are always invigorating - like a good cup of fresh steaming coffee - in these frosty months. And the rosy-cheeked vendors deserve more than a "hats off" for their steely resolve, pitted as they are against the pronounced dark morning hours and nipping frost.

And speaking of marchés...

It's quite interesting that in a city like Paris where they certainly abound... there is not one TRUE farmer's market. Each marché, too be sure, is an overflowing, multicolored vista of fresh fruits and vegetables... unfortunately a majority of the produce comes from large monoculture commercial enterprises and the choices available are rather identical (and seemingly comprised of less and less choice).

Local farmers and producers must be spied out (even at the 2 or 3 100% organic marchés), and if you know the signs to look for, you'll stumble on one or two or three during your morning stroll along the vendor stands.

— All of their produce in displayed in old, weathered wooden, and unlabled, crates.

— There will always be a sign hanging somewhere at the back of the stand with the name of the producer and the farm's whereabouts. There might also be a sign hanging out front with the words "Maraîcher" or "Producteur" (farmer or producer).

— You'll see vigorous hands with dirt well embedded beneath fingernails, and a certain vim and vigor, even a joyful pride on the face of the producer him/herself, who is always there, plying his/her trade.

I suppose the lack of a true farmer's market goes unnoticed simply because each market does give the semblance of its produce having just "come from the farm."

I've decided to begin to make a list of the various maraîchers at the different marchés... Eventually I hope to make the rounds of them all... and fill you in!

I'll start with the one I often go to at Nation, in the 12th arrondissement — the Cours de Vincennes marché — which takes place every Wednesday and Saturday from 8 am - 1:30 pm. I think it's one of the richest in "farmers bringing in their produce" in the whole city.

Here is a list of the producteurs that offer their wares there each week, and of course at their stalls you will find the truly seasonal and exceptionally savory fruits and vegetables from their terroir :

— Elyane et Gerard GOBEAUT :: Cours de Vincennes SATURDAY

— JF le PETIT : producteur de Normande :: Cours de Vincennes SATURDAY

— GAEC de VILLEDIEZ (Aury-Doublet) :: Cours de Vincennes WEDNESDAY & SATURDAY

— Daniel NAUDIN : Fontenay Trésigny :: Cours de Vincennes WEDNESDAY & SATURDAY

— P. LANTENOIS :: Cours de Vincennes MERCREDI & SATURDAY

— Bernard GROULT, Val d'Oise :: Cours de Vincennes SATURDAY

— Eric MARTINET Cours de Vincennes WEDNESDAY & SATURDAY

Next time you're in Paris, take a little journey to check them out and cart home of bit of their plenty.

As for that salad I mentioned up a few lines...

BLACK SPANISH RADISH-RED QUINOA SALAD – serves 4

= best in winter and early spring

150 gr black Spanish radish (I prefer the elongated variety)

75 gr red quinoa

Generous handful hazelnuts

Fresh dill

Dried wild fennel seeds, (if unavailable, regular fennel seed, slightly crushed will work)

1 organic lemon, for curlicues and juice

½ organic orange, for juice and zest

Extra-virgin olive oil

Unrefined sea salt and freshly ground pepper

— Make the lemon curlicues (photo below or watch my video): Wash the lemon with a vegetable scrubber then dry. Using a vegetable peeler, remove the zest. Cut off any pith by laying a very sharp paring knife flat against the pith and, pressing down, zigzagging back and forth to remove the pith from the zest. Slice lengthwise into very - very - thin strips. Dry in an oven preheated to 110 ˚C (225 ˚ F) for 5 – 10 minutes, or until the zests begins to curl, shaking from time to time. Watch them carefully, as you don’t want the edges to brown. Remove and set aside. You can also make the lemon strips the night before and just leave out in a bowl until the morning. Cover until ready to use later in the day. Can be kept in a glass jar for 2 days.

— Wash the orange with a vegetable scrubber then dry. Zest with a zester (Microplane zesters work great)

— Toast the hazelnuts in an oven preheated to 160 ˚C (325 ˚F) for 10 – 15 minutes, or until the skins begin to blister and the aroma of roasted nuts begins to seep from the oven. Shake the pan once or twice during roasting. (Bring them to room temperature before toasting if keeping them in the refrigerator.) Wrap in a dishtowel and vigorously rub between your hands to remove the skins. Let stand until cool then rub again. I then take them between my hands and rub them over the towel or sink, to remove any more willing skin. Don't worry about the skin that refuses to surrender. Coarsely chop.

— Wash the quinoa in a mesh strainer under running water over a large bowl. Repeat 2 – 3 times, until the water becomes clear. Bring 300 ml of water to a boil in a small saucepan, add a pinch of salt and stir in the quinoa. Cover and cook over medium-low heat until the water is absorbed (30 - 35 minutes). Remove from the heat and let stand for five minutes. Transfer to a large bowl, fluff up with a fork, and let cool.

— Peel the radish and, using a mandolin, slice crosswise into paper-thin slices. Transfer to a bowl and drizzle with a couple tablespoons of good olive oil. Toss to coat. Give a couple three squeezes of both lemon and orange juice, a nice pinch of sea salt, and toss again. Taste for seasoning and add more oil, salt, lemon and/or orange juice as needed.

— Arrange the radish slices in an airy mound in the center of 4 large salad plates. Sprinkle 4- 5 tablespoons of cooked quinoa just outside the radish slices, around the edge of the plate. Drizzle a bit of olive oi, along with a squeeze of orange juice, over the quinoa. Garnish with the hazelnuts, a few leaves of fresh dill or fresh wild fennel (in spring), and a pinch of the fennel seeds. Finally give each plate a couple generous twists of the pepper grinder. (You might have a bit of quinoa left over… to use for another dish.)

Note: You can gather your own wild fennel seeds out in any warm countryside in late summer and dry them, hanging them upside down in a dark, dry airy place.

Lemon curlicues

Dried wild fennel seeds

2nd edition "Cuisine de la TERRE" Bay Area Vegetarian Cooking Class Series - March 14 - 17, 2011

2011-01-10T22:26:00.002+01:00

— Each day we'll unload a basketful of fresh produce, gather together other raw ingredients and utensils, and "peel, slice, coat, roast - knead, whisk, toss, toast" everything into creative, sumptuous dishes — variations on rustic Italian fare, as well as my own seasonal creations (with many inspired vegan and/or gluten-free dishes on the menu) — which could easily supplant any meat dish on your table! We'll then sit down to savor what we’ve created with lovely natural wines from the Loire Valley, and take a last lingering sip of tea, coffee or wine before parting ways. See menus below.

— All produce and ingredients will be seasonal and organic and as local as possible; eggs from real scratching, pecking hens, milk products from grazing, pastured cows.

— We’ll chop, knead, whip, roll, roast, toast, and along the way stir up creative well-balanced recipes. Variations on rustic Italian dishes, as well as my own seasonal creations that could easily supplant any meat dish on your table.

— Each three-course meal will be paired with California wines that enhance the gustatory pleasure of vegetable dishes; wines of a lighter flair, with fresh mineral tones and balanced acidity.

— The price per person for a class is $120. For 2 or more classes, a 10% discount will apply.

— Each class will accommodate a maximum of 7 cooks.

— Aprons and knives (and knife-sharpening techniques) will be provided; you need but bring a pair of willing hands and a curious palate. Any leftovers will be divided up to be taken home…

— The various recipes, along with related information, will be sent to each cook in PDF format via email. A small detailed photo-journal and “creative” group portrait of each class will be posted on my website, which participating cooks can download.

For more information and/or to reserve a spot, please visit my website. or contact me at bayarea.classes[at]lacucinaditerresa.com

— You can take a look at the menus and photos from last year's classes.

— And you can view many of the dishes we'll be cooking this year.

Come join the party as we stir up marvels for the palate that celebrate the Earth and the hands that toil it!

MENUS :: (GF) = gluten free; (V) = vegan

(Menus are subject to variation or change depending on available ingredients — or a sudden inspiration.)

— Monday evening, March 14 : 5 – 10:30 pm :: BERKELEY kitchen

Stuffed artichokes (GF) (can be V)

Lemon-Fresh Herb Quinoa Risotto (GF) (can be V)

Pistachio Blancmange w/ Seasonal Fruit (GF) (V)

— Tuesday evening, March 15 : 5 – 10:30 pm :: OAKLAND kitchen

Radish tart

Pansoti (can be V)

Sbrisolona w/ almond cream (GF...?)

— Wednesday evening, March 16 : 5 – 10:30 pm :: SAN FRANCISCO kitchen - class is full

Red cabbage-Fresh Lime Salad w/ Cannelini Beans

Torta Pasqualina

Pastiera Napoletana

— Thursday evening, March 17 : 5 – 10:30 pm :: SAN FRANCISCO kitchen
Black Spanish Radish-Red Quinoa Salad
Potato Gnocchi w/ Wilted Spring Greens
Meyer Lemon Tart w/ Roasted Pumpkin Seeds & Meringue

this is a very GOOD READ...

2011-01-10T11:02:00.001+01:00

from the Op-ED section of the LA TIMES — January 9, 2011

AMERICA'S GOOD FIGHT :: It's agribusiness vs. the sustainable food movement. And reform advocates say it's possible to make delicious, nutritious, safe food available to all people of all income levels.

by Nicolette Hahn Niman

Our holiday table got quite tense. We are a mixed family — Jewish, Christian, Republican, Democrat –— but the tension wasn't from differences over religion or politics. It was about food. At one end of the table sat my husband's nephew, who runs a food bank. He's an earnest man who spends his days seeking nourishment for the hungry, and favors almost anything that increases food's availability or lowers its price.

My husband and I occupied the other end. We operate a pasture-based ranch, and spend much of our time advocating for farming grounded in ecology and stewardship. The food we raise is less readily available and more expensive than most of what's found at typical grocery stores. Other family members sat between us. They enjoy eating well but, especially in these tough economic times, want their meals as cheap as possible.

Our family dynamic mirrors an emerging national debate about how America's food should be produced. The controversy is often framed by agribusiness and food companies, heavily invested in maintaining the status quo, claiming that a globalized, industrialized system is the only way to produce enough food to feed the world's growing population, and to do so affordably. Reform advocates working to transform the system to one that's more locally based and isn't dependent on chemicals, mechanization and cheap fossil fuels are pitted against the world's poor, working class and hungry.
In other words, the sustainable food movement is characterized as uncaring and elitist.

A recent Newsweek piece titled "What Food Says About Class in America" described "a national phenomenon" of people seeking non-industrial foods because they believe that eating organically and locally helps farmers and farm animals while contributing to the health and well-being of their families and the planet. The author confessed a discomfort with such intense focus on high-quality food while "less than five miles away, some children don't have enough to eat; others exist almost exclusively on junk food."

a SaVORy-NOUriShiNG 2011 !!!

2010-12-26T11:13:00.001+01:00

an easier reading of the meandering recipe above...

SAVOY CABBAGE-FRESH LIME SALAD

400 gr Savoy cabbage
Zest of 1 lime
2 tBsp fresh lime juice
1 slight tablespoon light-flavored raw honey - acacia, alfalfa or clover for example, (if crystallized, heat briefly)
30 - 40 ml (2 1/2 - 3 tablespoons) quality extra-virgin olive oil
40 gr lightly roasted walnuts
Unrefined sea salt and freshly ground pepper to taste
Can be optionally added: 1 crisp organic apple (any Reinette, Fuji, Golden, Red delicious) unpeeled and cut into small bite-sized pieces

— Preheat the oven to 160 ˚C ( 325 ˚F). Place the walnuts in a baking dish of sorts and bake in the oven for 10 minutes, or until lightly roasted. Let cool then chop coarsely.

— Wash and dry the cabbage. Remove any bruised leaves. Cut out the white heart. Slice very thin with a mandolin over a large bowl. Add the fresh lime juice, honey, extra virgin olive oil, and a pinch of unrefined sea salt. Mix well. Set in the refrigerator to marinate for at least 1 hour. Remove and let stand until almost returned to room temperature.

— Stir in the chopped walnuts and lime zest (and apple if using). Adjust the seasoning with pinch more of salt, a bit more lime juice and perhaps a drizzle more of olive oil if desired.