Food52

You Say Potato...in Bags

Tue, 29 May 2012 14:30:00 -0400

This is the eleventh in our biweekly series from Amy Pennington — urban farmer, founder of GoGo Green Garden, and author of Urban Pantry and Apartment Gardening — on how to start growing your own food, no matter how tiny your garden-to-be is.

Today: Growing potatoes couldn't be easier -- as Amy explains, it's all in the bag. Literally.

– Amy

Growing potatoes is a pretty mysterious undertaking. All of the harvestable bits of the plant grow underground, making it hard to keep track of progress. Even though I've grown potatoes in the past, I'm consistently amazed when baby potatoes appear in the soil at harvest time.

To grow a potato, you basically cut a small piece off of a seed potato (a potato specifically designated as seed for planting, versus a potato you buy in the store) and bury it under a few inches of soil. The plant will eventually send up a stem and leaves, and as the plant grows we cover them (always leaving a little bit of leaf showing) in order for the plant to produce more potatoes. Pretty simple. This process, when done in a field, is called "hilling up" potatoes, as farmers will form hills of soil around the potato stem to maximize production.

Potatoes in the great outdoors

In small urban gardens, this task becomes difficult as we often don't have much space to begin with. Or maybe, like me, you only have a small balcony. Fortunately for all of us, potatoes can be grown in bags — or boxes or garbage cans for that matter. Essentially, any container in which potatoes can grow vertically while we cover their stems and roots will work.

Before we get started, a few quick notes about potatoes:

• Potatoes do not like super hot weather -- for Northern gardeners, now is a great time to get started. For Southern gardeners, you'll have to wait until the heat of summer begins to wane, or try putting your potato bags in a cool, shaded spot that only gets morning sun, such as the north side of a garage or a north-facing balcony.

• Sweet potatoes and potatoes are different plants, but can be grown in the same manner. (Remember that they take longer, about 3 months.)

• Choose a quick-growing potato variety for your bag. Remember all those seed sources we talked about a few weeks ago? They're great resources, as is your local nursery.

• Finally, for this plant-in-a-bag project I prefer a better-looking bag. Burlap sacks and plastic woven feed bags are a bit more shabby-chic than the bag your soil is sold in. Try your local coffee roaster or country feed store; these often have the added benefit of vintage-looking logos — a great way to add character to your urban garden.

For more on potatoes and how they're grown, you can find more in this post on Feed52. And now, here's potatoes in a bag — know it, love it.

1. Purchase organic seed potatoes and a bag of potting soil.

2. Cut each potato into smaller 1 to 2-inch "seeds" — each seed should have 1 to 3 "eyes." Set the seeds on a countertop or windowsill for a day or two to dry out. This helps minimize rot during the growing process.

3. Empty 2/3 of the soil bag into a storage bin, a large terracotta pot, a garbage bag, or another large, handy receptacle. (You'll end up using this portion of the soil for covering the potato stem.) This leaves you with 1/3 of the soil still in the bag — now, fold or roll down the sides of the soil bag so you end up with container-bag about a foot deep. (Check out Feed52 for more on how you can use simple straw to hill your potatoes.)

4. Place the seed potatoes, eyes facing up, about 2 inches deep into your soil. It's easy -- just press them in and call it a day.

5. Pierce or slash your potato bag in several places to allow for drainage, but be careful not to make too big of a hole. You don't want soil spilling out!

6. Water lightly. The best way to tell if your potatoes (or any plant, for that matter) have enough water is to stick your hand into the bottom of the bag. The soil should just barely hold together due to dampness, but it should not be wet. As you continue to water over the coming weeks, be sure to NOT overwater your plants! Overwatering and then drying out the soil will produce imperfect potatoes with knobs and hard, dense skin.

Demonstrating how to roll up the sides of the bag -- even though these are just planted!

7. After a few weeks, the potatoes stems will have grown about a foot tall. Now is the time to unroll a length of your potato bag and cover the entire stem with fresh soil (or hay***), leaving the leaves uncovered. If the stems grow tall enough, you can do this once more during the growing season.

8. When flowers start to bloom on your potato plant, it's a good indication that you've produced baby potatoes (also called "new potatoes" -- these are the same teeny new potatoes you see at the farmer's market). You can harvest potatoes from your plant now, if you'd like!

9. After the flowers bloom, the potato vines will yellow and die back. Leave plants for another week or so before harvesting (potatoes are still developing inside that bag). To harvest, line your patio or deck with newspaper and cut open the sides of the bag. (Soil will spill out, which you can reuse for lettuces or herbs.) Harvest the potatoes and let them "cure" for two days — this simply means laying them out to dry, which helps to develop the skin. Then cook them as you like!

And now it's time to get growing -- keep us posted on your bags!

Getting to Know Your Oils

Tue, 29 May 2012 12:00:00 -0400

Inspired by conversations on the FOOD52 Hotline, we're sharing tips and tricks that make navigating all of our kitchens easier and more fun. Today, we're talking about oils.

Where would we be as cooks, without oil?

It makes a smooth aioli of a lonely egg yolk sitting at the bottom of a mixing bowl. It imparts integrity and crunch to a flimsy curl of potato. It creates a crisp, golden husk on the outside of a doughnut. It lends to cake a soft crumb whose moisture will not surrender after one day. Drops of it, like tiny suspended jewels, give soups a finishing flourish of silky, rich flavor.

Home cooks are constantly coming up with inventive ways to cook with oil -- using it to flavor desserts, add crunch to granola, and even to create powders. So go forth and experiment, but before you do, get to know your oils:

Olive oil

Flavor: Neutral to grassy, fragrant, and lightly bitter.
What's in a name: Virgin olive oil is extracted only by physical means and has no more than 1.5% acidity. Extra-virgin olive oil (the highest quality olive oil) has less than 0.8% acidity. Refined olive oil is pressed oil that has been chemically treated to neutralize any strong flavors or acidity.
Smoke point: Unrefined oils: 375 degrees (and they're packed with flavors that don't hold up well under heat). Lighter olive oils: 468 degrees.
Best uses: Virgin oils are ideal for dips, dressings, and finishing dishes. With lighter olive oils, sizzle away: sear vegetables and meats, even fry artichokes.

Vegetable Oil

What's in a name: Vegetable oil is a blanket term for all oils derived from plants, most commercial oils labeled as vegetable come from soybeans. These oils are generally chemically refined to remove flavors, color, and elements that might burn easily.
Flavor: This oil is (and should always be) flavorless
Smoke point: High (up to 460 degrees)
Best uses: Vegetable oil is great for baking and deep-frying.

Vegetable Oil Alternatives

Prime examples: Safflower, canola, and grapeseed oil
Flavor: All are relatively flavorless
Smoke point: High (safflower: 510 degrees; canola: 400 degrees; grapeseed: 421 degress)
Best uses: These can be used in any recipe that calls for vegetable oil.
Where do you come from: Safflower oil comes from the seeds of safflowers; canola oil comes from the rapeseed plant, and you can probably guess where grapeseed oil comes from.

Coconut Oil

Health nut: Coconut oil is sought after for its beneficial fatty acids, which have gained it a soaring reputation in health food circles.
Flavor: Soft, sweet, nutty and tropical
Smoke point: Medium (280 degrees)
Best uses: This versatile oil can be used for making savory foods and baked goods alike. It's a great vegan substitute for butter.
Bonus tip: Melissa Clark recommends using coconut oil to make popcorn because "The oil brings out the nutty sweetness of the corn itself while adding a rich creamy sensation, without having to pour melted butter on the top."

Rice Bran Oil

Now trending: Rice bran oil is becoming increasingly popular for its health benefits -- it's rich in vitamins and antioxidants and is even claimed to improve cholesterol.
Flavor: Mild
Smoke point: High (490 degrees)
Best uses: This is a fine stand-in for vegetable or canola oil.
Money talks: Rice bran oil is typically a little more expensive than your average vegetable oil, but the reward is a healthier fried food and, according to Cook's Illustrated, a far superior taste.

Nut Oils

Prime examples: Walnut, pistachio, and hazelnut oil
Flavor: Earthy and rich (the oils often have hints of the nuts they come from)
Smoke point: Low
Best uses: Since their flavors thrive at lower temperatures, use nut oils to dress salads and finish dishes.
Smart Storage: It's best to store these in the refrigerator, to prevent them from going rancid.
May we suggest: Give walnut oil a try in this red leaf salad with roasted beets, oranges, and walnuts, drizzle a little pistachio oil on Patricia Wells' Zucchini Carpaccio, and whip up a batch of radish leaf hazelnut pesto with some hazelnut oil.

Peanut Oil

Not like other nuts: Peanut oil distinguishes itself from other nut oils with a much higher smoke point and a much softer flavor. It has many of the same physical characteristics of vegetable oil.
Flavor: Faintly peanut-y
Smoke point: High (437 degrees)
Best uses: This is a great choice for frying and stir-frying.

Avocado Oil

Flavor: Mildly nutty
Smoke point: Extremely high (520 degrees)
Best uses: Avocado oil is a great oil for health-conscious frying and sautéing.
Compositionally speaking: Avocado oil is similar in composition to olive oil and offers many of the same health benefits. It is full of vitamin E and monosaturated fats, which are good for the heart.

Sesame Oil

Flavor: Deep and savory
Smoke point: Refined sesame oil has a smoke point of 450 degrees.
Best uses: Use refined sesame oil for frying, and stick to the unrefined variety for a flavorful finishing oil.
Try this: Give sesame oil a try in cheese1227's Hot Smoked Salmon, Soba and Asian Greens Salad.

Linseed oil

Alias: Flaxseed oil
Flavor: Slightly earthy
Smoke point: Low
Best uses: Salad dressings, and other room-temperature applications
Heads up: Be sure to buy food-grade linseed oil rather than paint-grade, and keep this one in the refrigerator, since it tends to turn rancid quickly.

Squash seed oils

Prime examples: Pumpkin seed oil and butternut squash seed oil
Flavor: Warm, buttery (like roasted squash)
Smoke point: Low
Best uses: As a finishing oil -- sprinkle sparingly over soups, mashed potatoes, and fish
Bonus: They add a fantastically vibrant finishing touch of color too

What are your favorite oils to use in the kitchen, and how do you cook with them? Weigh in with a comment!

First Kitchen: In Search of the Perfect Cast Iron Pan

Mon, 28 May 2012 10:00:00 -0400

Food52's Editorial Assistant (and college student) Brette Warshaw is curating her very own first kitchen -- and she needs your help.

Today: Finding the right cast iron pan

Buying a cast iron pan is like buying a first cell phone, or appointment book, or pair of glittery high heels: it makes you a little bit more adult.

I’ve got the cell phone, the appointment book, the glittery heels. That cast iron pan? Not there yet.

During my first three years of college -- while not a real adult, per se -- I avoided thinking about cast iron pans, about knives, about Dutch ovens: those culinary badges of honor, those hallmarks of seasoned cooks. I instead relied upon the cheap tools and kitchenware my roommates once bought for our “kitchen” (read: wall of kitchen appliances in the living room) and saved my major culinary projects for the kitchens of my parents, whose cookware collections were plentiful and familiar. Buying sturdy, expensive kitchenware for myself felt frivolous, unnecessary. I was too inexperienced. I was too young.

Until now.

Now, I’ve got cast iron pans on the mind, cutting boards and baking sheets, food processors, immersion blenders. (Is that weird? Probably.) I’m ready to cut my bread with a sharp, serrated knife; I’m ready to present dinner on a big, wide serving platter. It’s the summer before my final year of college, and I’m thinking about adulthood. I’m thinking about the real world.

I’m thinking about my real world kitchen.

In curating this real world kitchen, I’ve made a vow to myself: I will choose all of my cookware intelligently. I will research every major purchase. I will ask for advice. I will make all of my kitchen investments worthwhile, so that in ten years I can look down at my cast iron pan -- or my knife, or my sauté pan, or my Dutch oven -- and remember the time I first used it.

And I will remember how you, dear FOOD52-ers, helped me.

I therefore bring you the series First Kitchen, where I will guide you through the curation of my first kitchen -- and ask for your help along the way. These posts aren't aimed just at college students. They’re for everyone who wants to make smart choices about their kitchenware -- for experienced cooks looking for a new tool, for novice cooks looking for their first, for a mother or father or friend looking for a thoughtful, useful gift.

My mother and father, though, won’t part with their cast iron pans -- kitchen tools that better with age, that can be passed down through generations. I’ve got to do the adult thing. I’m on my own.

So, naturally, I ask the most adult question one can ask: What’s the best pan to cook pancakes in?

Pancakes, along with more-wholesome eggs, greens, fish, and chicken, are the things I cook the most. A cast iron pan can be used for all of these, plus searing steak and other meats, shallow frying, baking bread, even baking cakes. It passes my first test: it’s worth buying.

But I’m greedy; I want more. I don’t just want a pan that can cook them all. I want a pan that can cook them all...efficiently. Kindly. Perfectly. This is a long-term commitment. I have high standards.

Bare, Pre-Seasoned or Enameled?

My major decision is what type of material to choose for my cast iron pan. If I base my selection on looks alone, it’s easy; I’d go for the Le Creuset Round Skillet. It’s got elegant, sloping sides and a surface so smooth I stroke it when nobody’s looking. The fact that it’s enameled makes it virtually maintenance-free; no seasoning, no difficult cleaning, little-to-no sticking. It’s also $154.95 – $99.95 for the 10 ¼-inch.

Bare cast iron, on the other hand -- the kind that most often gets handed down through generations -- is much less expensive: $16.99 for the classic unseasoned Lodge Logic 10” Chef Skillet. What bare cast iron lacks in looks -- though I still think it’s ruggedly handsome -- it makes up for in economy. The more you use a cast iron pan, the less maintenance it needs; since I’ll be using it often, it won’t take us long to settle in together. A good bare cast iron skillet can cook the same things as the enameled cast iron, though you shouldn't cook anything acidic -- anything with tomatoes, wine, or citrus, for instance -- in a pan that is not properly seasoned.

Buying pre-seasoned cast iron is the other option -- $20.97 for the Lodge Logic Pre-Seasoned 12-inch Skillet. Though there’s something romantic about seasoning my own. It’s the adult thing to do, right?

What kind of cast iron pan would you recommend? Check out my First Kitchen Pinterest board to follow along.

Next time, I’ll be covering knives -- and I could use your suggestions!

Email me at brette@food52.com with your First Kitchen recommendations -- your favorite tools, your favorite cookware, your favorite cookbooks. All wisdom is appreciated.

Asparagus with Young Garlic and Horseradish

Mon, 28 May 2012 09:00:00 -0400

Once you buy local asparagus, two things happen. You can't go back to the grocery store variety. And greed sets in. You need to have it every day, until it's gone again. Most times I'm happy to have asparagus plain, or nearly. I tend to sprinkle it with aromatics or textures, like this recipe with pancetta and breadcrumbs. This year, the young garlic has been plentiful at the market, and while I admit the following makes me sound like a food jerk, I had extra young garlic in the fridge. It's true, I did. Don't hate on me people. This is my job!

Because I'm too lazy to saute the garlic to ease its aroma, and because I love mellowing onions and shallots by rubbing them with salt and letting them sit, that's what I did with the young garlic. I pulled away the tough outer layers (save them for infusing the stock you're making with that pastured chicken -- See? I can't help myself.) and thinly sliced the entire bulb and even a few inches of the stem. After rubbing them with kosher salt, I let them sit for a few minutes while I cooked the asparagus.

Two months ago, I would have insisted that you must never blanch asparagus -- that it must be sauteed in oil or butter so that you intensify its flavor. But then a scarring incident with gritty local spears changed my tune. Blanch your asparagus (unless you know it's not gritty, in which case, saute it in oil for 2 minutes and proceed with the rest of the recipe as is) to release all the grit. Then it's just a bunch of slicing and sprinkling and grating your way to seasonal self-satisfaction.

Asparagus with Young Garlic and Horseradish

Serves 4

Salt
1 head young garlic (with a few inches of stem), or 2 garlic scapes
1 pound asparagus, trimmed and washed
2 teaspoons freshly grated horseradish root
1 tablespoon olive oil
Half a lemon

See the full recipe (and save and print it) here.

Photos by James Ransom

James Beard's Strawberry Shortcakes

Fri, 25 May 2012 11:00:00 -0400

Every week -- often with your help -- FOOD52's Senior Editor Kristen Miglore is unearthing recipes that are nothing short of genius.

Today: The perfect strawberry shortcake for Memorial Day (and all berry season long) -- thanks to an odd secret ingredient.

Sweet, ripe summer strawberries deserve lots of whipped cream and the perfect shortcake. And the secret to the perfect shortcake? It's sitting in your fridge right now, and it's going to surprise you.

The late cookbook author James Beard -- you know, the father of American cooking -- learned this trick for a tender, airy cake from his mother: Egg yolks.

Not so strange, right? But here's the kicker: they're from hard-boiled eggs.

It might sound like one of the last things you want stirred in with your dry ingredients, but crumbly cooked yolk adds just enough richness without weighing down or gumming up the dough.

This also means it's more forgiving. You needn't be on edge, worrying you'll overwork the pastry. No tough cakes here: you've got insurance. And it looks like this:

James Beard is no longer around for us to quiz about this method, but it's become a popular technique among other cooks who love their shortcakes, so we can ask them.

In The Pie and Pastry Bible, Rose Levy Beranbaum relies on hard-cooked yolk for her biscuit dough. In an email, Beranbaum explained, "It adds a beautiful golden color and velvety tender texture." And, she adds, "unlike raw egg yolk, it does not get absorbed into the flour" -- a plus for keeping it light.

Because the fluffy yolk floats freely in the dough, food scientist Harold McGee wagers, "I imagine that it would give you a shorter, crumblier texture than you'd get by spreading the yolk proteins and fats evenly through the dough." And it does indeed -- the crumb is fine and delicate.

Knowing how old recipes work, it's likely that the technique was around before even Beard's mother's time. But the Beards' version is a very good one, and has since been handed down from chef to chef.

Pastry chef Claudia Fleming swears by it -- she picked up the trick from the first chef she ever worked for, but Fleming says "She wasn't much for sharing info, so I don't know where she learned it from." Russ Parsons -- L.A. Times Food Editor and shortcake buff -- is a fan too.

In recent years, it's even popped up in the pastry curriculum at the French Culinary Institute -- an impressive pedigree for what was once just a clever home cook's trick.

In other words, yes, there's one extra step: you have to boil a few eggs. But it's worth it. Plus you get a healthy pre-shortcake snack out of it. (What else are you going to do with those leftover cooked egg whites? Make a tiny egg salad? No, just eat them.)

For some reason, in his twenty-plus cookbooks, James Beard never published his mother's shortcake recipe himself. Lucky for us, he saw fit to share it with his friend Larry Forgione one night as the two were relaxing and talking food at Beard's townhouse.

Forgione put the recipe on the menu at his iconic New York restaurant An American Place, brought it back every strawberry season, and later published it in his cookbook of the same name.

As Forgione tells it, Beard believed "there can be no dessert better, only fancier." Taste his version, yolks secretly threaded through, and you're likely to feel the same.

James Beard's Strawberry Shortcakes

From The James Beard Foundation, adapted from An American Place by Larry Forgione (Morrow, 1996)

Serves 6

For the shortcakes:
2 cups all-purpose flour
1/4 cup plus 1 tablespoon sugar
1 tablespoon plus 1/2 teaspoon baking powder
6 tablespoons unsalted butter, chilled, cut into small cubes
2 hard-boiled egg yolks, pushed through a small mesh sieve (see our favorite way to hard-cook eggs)
3/4 cup heavy cream, chilled
2 tablespoons unsalted butter, melted

For the strawberry filling:
3 pints fresh strawberries, washed, hulled, and halved or quartered, depending on size
2 tablespoons sugar

For the whipped cream:
1 cup heavy cream
1 tablespoon sugar

See a slideshow and the full recipe (and save and print it) here.

Photos by James Ransom

How to Season Cast Iron

Thu, 24 May 2012 16:00:00 -0400

Inspired by conversations on the FOOD52 Hotline, we're sharing tips and tricks that make navigating all of our kitchens easier and more fun. Today, Amanda shows us how to season a cast iron pan.

A cast iron pan is a trusty companion for numerous kitchen tasks -- evenly distributed heat and a well-seasoned surface will take you far in your cooking. If you treat a cast iron pan right, it'll last a lifetime (or two, or three). Treating it right means seasoning it, and maintaining that naturally nonstick coating. Here, Amanda shows us exactly how to do that.

Do you have any other tips for caring for cast iron?

Today's video was shot by Alex Lisowski, and edited by Kyle Orosz. Photos by Nicole Franzen.

Community Picks -- Mangoes

Thu, 24 May 2012 11:00:00 -0400

Once again, we want to give a big thanks to all of our volunteer recipe testers for your thoughtful comments and for helping us continue to strengthen our recipe recommendations. You can read each tester's comments by clicking through to the Community Picks recipes — the comments are at the top. And even if the recipe you tested wasn't chosen as a CP, please feel free to leave your testing notes in the recipe's comments section. Constructive criticism is always encouraged!

Mango Soufflés with Coconut-Lime Crème Anglaise

Mango Salad with Fennel Frond Pesto

Mango-Mint Limeade

Rum-Spiked Roasted Caramelized Mangoes

Mango Ice Cream with Chili Sea Salt

Mango Srikhand

Community-Tested Pick Candidates (Tested by you!)

Brown Buttered Mangoes Foster
Quinoa and Mango Salad with Lemony-Ginger Dressing
Mango Mousse
Champagne Broiled Mangoes with Cookie Butter
Mango Popsicles
Aamer Morobba (Indian Mango Preserve)
Tiger Lily
Pan Seared Halibut with Mango-Avocado Salsa
Mango Honey Frozen Yogurt with Brown Butter Almond Brittle
Citrusy Mango Butter
Move Over Major Grey Mango Chutney
Mango-Lime Sherbet
Mango Honey Mustard
Tangorita
Thai Mango Curry with Chicken -- Made From Scratch

Photos by James Ransom and Joseph De Leo

Winner of Your Best Mangoes

Wed, 23 May 2012 17:42:00 -0400

Congratulations to boulangere whose Cambodian-Style Spring Rolls won this week's contest for Your Best Mangoes!

1. Describe an early food experience that has influenced the way you think about food and/or cooking.

The first time I ever prepared a "meal" myself was when I was 7 years old. My mother had gotten me a Betty Crocker children's cookbook and I thought the photo of carefully sectioned grapefruit with a maraschino cherry was the most exotic thing in the world. It took me a couple of hours to make them for my parents and sisters, and I don't recall that anyone complained about the wait. But then, it's entirely possible my mother was sneaking real food to them. I think that may have been the only time in our lives that my mother bought maraschino cherries.

2. What's your least favorite food?
I'm just not crazy about squid, even when it calls itself calamari.

3. What is the best thing you've made so far this year?
First Night in Florence Spaghetti!

4. Describe your most spectacular kitchen disaster.
There have been so many, but this one stands out as an example of "if at first you don't succeed, erase all evidence of ever having tried." Culinary school is ripe with I Love Lucy moments. One night, 2 classmates and I were in a kitchen upstairs from our usual one at the time, making an exponentially increased batch of chocolate mousse. That probably gives you an idea where this is going. We were using a 120-quart Hobart mixer to whip the cream. I'd left the kitchen briefly, and when I returned, it was clear that a mathematical error had been made. The first thing I noticed was whipped cream sloshing up over the edge of the hot-tub-sized bowl and plopping all around the mixer. Then I realized that Bridget and Jamie were shrieking as they dodged blobs of whipped cream that were being lobbed around like mortars. It was so hysterically funny that I literally collapsed on the floor laughing while they furiously inched their way to the mixer to shut it off. Even as we rushed to clean up the considerable mess, I'd periodically come apart all over again. I still do whenever I think about it.

5. What is your idea of comfort food?
Softly scrambled eggs with some just-snipped chives.

6. Apron or no apron?
It depends, but I'm not sure on what.

7. What's your favorite food-related scene in a movie?
Oh, easy! The scene in The Seduction of Joe Tynan with Meryl Streep and Alan Alda where they're sitting in bed with a massive, overflowing tray of fruit that he's wolfing down and she says, "Why can't you just smoke like other men?"

8. If you could make a show-stopping dinner for one person, living or dead, who would it be?
Richard Olney. His Simple French Food is on my night stand right now, as I reread it yet again.

9. You prefer to cook: a) alone; b) with others; c) it depends on your mood
I always cook alone, but I love entertaining and having house guests so I have others in the kitchen.

10. When it comes to tidying up, you usually: a) clean as you cook; b) do all the dishes once you've finished cooking; c) leave the kitchen a shambles for your spouse/roommate/kids to clean.
A, definitely. Especially whipped cream.

Bottarga: Poor Man's Caviar No More

Wed, 23 May 2012 11:00:00 -0400

Inspired by conversations on the FOOD52 Hotline, we're sharing tips and tricks that make navigating all of our kitchens easier and more fun. Today, we're sharing ways to use bottarga.

The workmen who built the Egyptian pyramids may have subsisted on onions, bread and beer, but just a few centuries later their descendants were enjoying their flatbread topped with bottarga. Sometimes referred to as "the poor man's caviar," bottarga has been a Mediterranean staple ever since.

What is bottarga exactly?

Bottarga production is the same today it was in ancient Eqypt: tuna or grey mullet roe is salted, pressed, dried and then coated in beeswax for preserving.

How do you use it?

The Lebanese bravely eat their bottarga in slices with raw garlic and dunked in olive oil, but the deep orange roe is most often shaved or grated to adorn everything from pasta to compound butter with its bright, briny flavor. Like anchovies or caviar, it adds salt and umami, but with a feathery texture and personality all its own.

Where do you get it?

Bottarga is made in Europe, Asia, and now the U.S. In 2007, Seth Cripe, founder of Cortez Bottarga, began hauling grey mullet from the Gulf of Mexico and curing the roe, which you can find over in the FOOD52 Shop. Below, we share some tips and tricks for working with this saline treat.

Handling Bottarga

Nick Anderer of Maialino in New York City suggests using a mandolin to shave the roe, and a microplane to grate it. We were surprised -- and delighted -- to learn that he leaves the natural casing intact.

Cooking with Bottarga

Flatbread: Italians like to shave bottarga over a paper-thin flatbread called carta da musica. In her cookbook, A Girl and Her Pig, April Bloomfield includes a recipe involving nothing more than carta da musica, bottarga, butter, flaky sea salt, red pepper flakes and extra virgin olive oil.

Pasta: Another Italian tradition is bottarga with pasta -- most notably, spaghetti alla chitarra con bottarga. At Maialino, Anderer makes a simple sauce with garlic, olive oil, parsley and white wine. Slicked in this sauce, spaghetti is served on a bed of grated bottarga and finished with yet more bottarga.

Eggs: Anderer's celery salad with soft boiled egg and shaved bottarga (pictured above) is crunchy, creamy, and salty all at once. Or try bottarga grated over scrambled eggs.

Vegetables: Shaved or grated bottarga is great for livening up fresh vegetables. Try it with boiled potatoes, raw zucchini, asparagus or green beans.

Storing Bottarga

Bottarga can be kept in the fridge for up to a year, as long as it's vacuum sealed or wrapped tightly in plastic.

Are you a bottarga fan? If so, how do you like to prepare it?

The Land of Milk and Honey

Wed, 23 May 2012 09:00:00 -0400

This is the ninth installment of Sunday Dinners, a biweekly column from our own Tom Hirschfeld featuring his gorgeous photography, stunning Indiana farm, and mouthwatering family meals.

Today: Tom gets into a tight spot with some bees -- but makes the most of his situation with a honey granola tart.

"Crazy-drive, Dad, crazy-drive," both girls yell in unison from the back seat of the car.

So in the soft yellow light of a warm spring morning, I do. I weave the car back and forth, fishtailing and tossing gravel from the drive into the tall prairie grass all the way up to the bus stop. If it wasn't so fun, it would be an offense to the quiet of first light.

In the back seat they crash and fall into each other, laughing.

It has become a ritual of the long gravel drive. There is not a time when we set out to go somewhere but that Vivian or Lynnie yells this out as we leave. We do it to get to the bus stop, to go check the mailbox, or on our way to the grocery.

I don't always oblige. I like the element of surprise, and sometimes I answer their calls of wild abandon with excuses about how "the car can't take it" or "we have groceries in the back."

The routine is that Vivian goes to the bus stop, after which (and only on Tuesdays and Thursdays), Lynnie is dropped off at preschool. On preschool days, after Vivian gets out of the car and onto the bus, it has also become habit for Lynnie to tell me she has to go to the bathroom. She wants an extra bit of crazy driving all to herself. Inevitably, we head back up the drive on a bathroom run.

It is on one of these bathroom trips that I see the black ball.

Plain as the day is long, there on the same apple tree as two years ago sits a swarm of bees.

"Not today," is what I think to myself. I have too much other work to do. But then I know without a doubt that this swarm of honey bees is the royal party to my best queen, ever. I can't let her be whisked off to some tree in a woods far, far away.

Bees, for those who don't know, swarm in the spring. Usually around Mother's Day. A swarm is how a hive propagates -- to me it is a sign of hive health but to others it is a catastrophe.

When a hive becomes overpopulated, the worker bees will take a couple of cells and convert them into queens. The new queen stays behind and the old queen leaves to find a new home. More often than not, she takes about a third of the colony with her for the trip.

The big worry is that neither hive will grow fast enough in time to survive through the winter. Beekeepers don't like it because the hive will be too small to produce excess honey for the keeper to harvest. Many beekeepers try to manage swarm behavior, which needs to be done well in advance; if the bees make a decision to swarm it is too late to do anything.

Still, with the exception of getting Lynn to school, everything else is going to have to wait.

I have nothing ready. I am totally disorganized, but not so much that I can't pull something together in order to make the bees comfortable. A couple extra frames of honey, some frames with drawn out honey comb for the queen's new eggs, and some frames that are empty to give the workers something to build upon.

This should be a simple operation. At the orchard, I pull a wagon up close next to the apple tree then take the lid off. I gently bend the pliable young branch loaded with the bees down a little in order to get everything into position. Adjusting the wagon, I pull the branch down further this time. When it is close to the empty hive body, I give the branch a short jerk and the entire ball of bees falls into it.

Well, that is what should have happened. Instead, I missed the target. The sound of the swarming bees is as loud as the spinning prop on a biplane.

The only bee I care about getting into the hive is the queen. I have no idea if she is in there but I will know in the next half hour: because she is emitting pheromones like crazy, worker bees will cluster around her immediately.

It turns out that I missed.

The queen is now under the wagon. The huge cluster of bees is there too, hanging from the axle.

After two more attempts, I still have not got the queen into the hive. I decide three is either a charm for me or else the bees' lucky day -- I'd rather let the queen go then accidentally kill her. I place the hive on the ground, lift the front wheels of the wagon over, and then brush all the bees into the hive using a paintbrush. This time, I get the queen.

As I pick up the hive to put it back in the wagon, I am just getting ready to pat myself on the back when I feel the beekeeper's nightmare.

There is a bee crawling up my leg on the inside of my pants. My options are few and all I hear in my head is, "Crazy-drive, Dad, crazy-drive!"

Honey Granola Tart

Makes 8 slices

For the crust:
1 cup brown rice flour
1/2 cup oat flour
2 tablespoons confectioners sugar
1/2 teaspoon sea salt
12 tablespoons unsalted butter, plus 1 tablespoon

For the tart:
1/4 cup pecans
1/4 cup sliced almonds
3 tablespoons sprouted quinoa
3 tablespoons hulled buckwheat groats
1/4 cup pepitas (hulled pumpkin seeds)
1 cup old-fashioned oatmeal
1 cup ricotta
1/2 cup honey, plus 2 tablespoons
1/2 teaspoon vanilla extract
1/4 teaspoon teaspoon salt

See the full recipe (and save and print it) here.

Contest Winner! - Party pretzel bites

Wed, 16 May 2012 12:17:00 -0400

I find the smell of soft baked pretzels so alluring I can never seem to pass one up, but then I always find them disappointing. Once you get past the salt and the unique baking soda flavor of the skin, the insides are often tasteless and styrofoamy. So, I thought, why not try making pretzels with an enriched challah style dough so the crumb would be flavorful. Yum! You can shape the dough as pretzels, but for a party I'd suggest cutting up strands of dough into little pretzel bites. It will make a ton!

Makes a lot!

Contest Winner! - Cambodian-Style Spring Rolls

Fri, 11 May 2012 00:00:00 -0400

When I went back to work after my son was born, I was the luckiest mother alive to find a pediatrician's family for his day care. I know, amazing, right? A charitable organization placed several Cambodian women with them to help care for the babies and the toddlers. I never had a moment's hesitation or sense of guilt when I dropped off my boy in the morning. He was surrounded by loving women, some of whose gifts may have been enhanced by the lack of a language barrier with infants. Each spring we had a great pot-luck picnic in a local park for all staff, children, and families. To this day among my brightest memories is the Cambodian ladies' spring rolls. These quiet, gentle women, who had probably been making them most of their lives, giggled among themselves as they watched us fall on their rolls. It mattered not what anyone else brought to share. The spring rolls were the hit of the party, and the first food to vanish. They were my first experience of rice paper wrappers, and where I learned to be unafraid of searingly hot flavors because they were balanced by opposite flavors and textures: the sweet, the tart, the spicy, the bright, the crunchy, the tender. The dipping sauce is my own. One can never have too many mangos. But the rolls are as close to those I remember as I've been able to get over the years. Those ladies were instrumental in my culinary education before I realized how deeply I longed for one.

Makes 8 to 10 rolls

Contest Winner! - Ramp Carbonara

Wed, 09 May 2012 12:00:00 -0400

This dish combines the earthy character of spring ramps and the unctuous elegance of a good carbonara. I slice the ramp leaves into long, thin ribbons so that when the pasta is twirled on a plate, the ramp leaves intertwine with the pasta. One pound is a lot of ramps - but its meant to be the star of the dish. I diverged from the traditional carbonara with a big squeeze of lemon at the end, to brighten up this beautiful spring dish. This dish is all about timing your pasta and sauce to be done together. You can cook the pancetta and ramp bulbs and hold these off the heat while you wait for your pasta to be almost done.

Serves 6

Contest Winner! - Lemon Lime Margaritas

Thu, 03 May 2012 10:51:00 -0400

Just getting ready for summer. - thirschfeld

Serves as many as you need

Contest Winner! - Mushi-Gyoza (Steamed Gyoza)

Thu, 26 Apr 2012 14:48:00 -0400

This was my favorite food growing up. My mom learned to make these in Taiwan where they were called shu mai. When we moved to Hawaii they became gyoza and took on a new shape. I usually make these with pork but you can make them with half shrimp and half pork, or chicken and shrimp or any combination of small farm animals and seafood you like.

Makes Approximately 50 dumplings

Contest Winner! - Ricotta Hotcakes with Maple Butter

Wed, 25 Apr 2012 12:00:00 -0400

I spent six months in Sydney, Australia back in 2003, and my absolute favorite restaurant, which I still recommend to visitors headed to the best city ever, is bills. (Not Bill's. bills). Famous for its scrambled eggs, it also boasts incredible coconut bread, sweet-corn fritters, the best hot chocolate of my life, and ricotta hotcakes with honeycomb butter. When I returned to school after that semester of Sydney bliss, I couldn't find (or afford) the fresh honeycomb used at bills, but this maple alternative, with a hint of almond, is quite nice. The hotcake recipe is cobbled together from a variety of my favorite methods, with a touch of lemon to keep things interesting.

Serves 6

Contest Winner! - Not Exactly Grandma’s Migas

Thu, 12 Apr 2012 11:24:00 -0400

A visit to my grandmother’s house would not be complete without a big breakfast featuring the ultimate Tex-Mex comfort food, migas. A combination of eggs and (preferably stale) corn tortillas, some migas can be a bit dense, but the version I’ve developed over the years has a light, fluffy texture. This dish isn’t going to win any beauty contests, but it’s a real favorite in our household, and it's easy to make for a crowd. I call for canned tomatoes and green chile as they are available year-round, but you can of course substitute good fresh ones in season if you prefer – just chop them and add them to the skillet to cook down rather than pureeing them. Serve these with a side of refried beans, plenty of grated cheese, and your favorite salsa.

Serves 6

Contest Winner! - Matilda, Maple & Garlic Pork Shoulder with Crispy Skin

Wed, 11 Apr 2012 12:00:00 -0400

My grandmother (yes, I'm mentioning my grandmother again) used to cook her ever-present, giant ham by sticking it in the oven and pouring ginger ale over it every once in a while, as if it had won the Super Bowl. I decided to use a bottle of Matilda beer, a lovely fruity malty ale made here in Chicago, by Goose Island, with maple syrup for some extra sweetness. You'll probably have to special order the rind-on cut; I had a hard time getting one in Chicago, aka Meatland. Strange. The ponderously long cooking time was inspired by The River Cottage Meat Book, a book that I find charmingly revolting.

Serves 4-6-8

Contest Winner! - Petite Pea Omelet with Mint and Mascarpone

Thu, 29 Mar 2012 10:53:00 -0400

Fresh peas are not yet available in these parts- I won't see the ones I planted in my garden for a while yet, so I've used organic frozen peas in this recipe instead. Due to lots of macaron making in recent days, I've had a lot of egg yolks in my refrigerator just begging to be used. I promise that an omelet made mostly from egg yolks is incredible rich and delicious, but if egg white omelets are more your style, I won't stop you from going that route. The mint has come alive in the patch that grows in my backyard so I've used it here, but you could also use basil (or a combination of the two). As for the mascarpone, you could substitute Greek yogurt, cream, or maybe creme fraiche if that's what you've got on hand...

Serves 1 omelet

Contest Winner! - What I Do For Love Bran Muffins

Wed, 21 Mar 2012 11:24:00 -0400

One of my husband's favorite breakfast foods is a bran muffin. He had been buying them at the grocery store (ick). So I set out to make a bran muffin he would really like. I tried a bunch of recipes, but couldn't really capture the sweet moist character of a mass-produced muffin (even though mine tasted better and were certainly healthier). I found a recipe in "Cook's Illustrated" called Better Bran muffins (May 2007), and started making that one, with some variations. While I still use its not-so-secret ingredient--All Bran cereal-- I've modified the recipe to make it my own. My husband adores these muffins, so now I'm making them nearly every week. I call them "What I Do For Love" because when the muffin tin goes into the oven, there's a huge mess to be cleaned up--multiple ingredients to put away, many dishes to wash, a food processor to clean. But these are delicious and they freeze well. (And in the photo, the pumpkin seeds are a little dark because I overcooked them--oops!--they still tasted good!)

Food52

You Say Potato...in Bags

Getting to Know Your Oils

First Kitchen: In Search of the Perfect Cast Iron Pan

Asparagus with Young Garlic and Horseradish

James Beard's Strawberry Shortcakes

How to Season Cast Iron

Community Picks -- Mangoes

Winner of Your Best Mangoes

Bottarga: Poor Man's Caviar No More

The Land of Milk and Honey

Contest Winner! - Party pretzel bites

Makes a lot!

Contest Winner! - Cambodian-Style Spring Rolls

Makes 8 to 10 rolls

Contest Winner! - Ramp Carbonara

Serves 6

Contest Winner! - Lemon Lime Margaritas

Serves as many as you need

Contest Winner! - Mushi-Gyoza (Steamed Gyoza)

Makes Approximately 50 dumplings

Contest Winner! - Ricotta Hotcakes with Maple Butter

Serves 6

Contest Winner! - Not Exactly Grandma’s Migas

Serves 6

Contest Winner! - Matilda, Maple & Garlic Pork Shoulder with Crispy Skin

Serves 4-6-8

Contest Winner! - Petite Pea Omelet with Mint and Mascarpone

Serves 1 omelet

Contest Winner! - What I Do For Love Bran Muffins

Makes 12