Susan G Purdy is the author of one of my first and favorite baking books, The Family Baker. Since acquiring the book some 10 or 11 years ago, I have tried dozens of the recipes and to a one, they have all been great. None are complicated or fussy, they’re all just really good. Following in my aunt Margaret’s footsteps, I always write in my cookbooks the date at which I first tried the recipe and my opinions of the outcome. This black and white chocolate pudding cake (which I have made a million times since) I first made in 2000, and the comment at the top was, “Holy Sh!t, yum.”

Talley describes this cake as the perfect cake/gooey brownie. It’s incredibly low tech, no electronic equipment needed – all you need is a wooden spoon and a bowl. You’ll make a thick batter, spread it into a pan, pour on some dry sugar and cocoa, then pour on what seems like too much boiling water, and then stick the whole thing in the oven. What emerges 20 or 30 minutes later is a rich, gooey, chewy, chocolatey mass dripping with its own syrup. You’ll want to add ice cream.

Black and White Chocolate Pudding Cake

adapted from The Family Baker

• butter for preparing pan
• 1 cup unsifted all-purpose flour
• 1⅓ cups granulated sugar, divided (⅔ cup and ⅔ cup)
• ½ cup sifted unsweetened cocoa, preferably dutch-processed, divided (¼ cup and ¼ cup)
• 2 tsp baking powder
• pinch of ground cinnamon
• ¼ tsp salt
• ½ cup milk
• ¼ cup canola or other mild vegetable oil
• 1 tsp vanilla extract
• ½-⅔ cup white chocolate, very coarsely chopped (I chop mine into ½ inch squares, or semisweet chocolate chips
• 1 cup boiling water

Position a rack in the center of the oven and preheat to 350˚F. Butter a 9″x9″ baking pan and set aside.

In a mixing bowl, combine the flour, ⅔ cup of sugar, ¼ cup of cocoa, baking powder, cinnamon, and salt. Stir to blend, then mix in the milk, oil, vanilla, and white chocolate. The batter will feel quite stiff. Spread it in the baking pan.

In a small bowl, stir together the remaining ¼ cup cocoa with the remaining ⅔ cup sugar. Spread this evenly over the batter in the pan and pour the boiling water on top. DO NOT STIR.

Bake the cake 25 to 30 minutes, or until the top looks crisp and crackled and a cake tester inserted in a cakey area comes out clean. Cool the cake a few minutes, then serve warm, spooned directly from the pan. Top with vanilla ice cream or unsweetened heavy cream.

The next day, the cake will have reabsorbed a the syrupy liquid and will be more like a brownie – it’s still quite good.

Serves 4 normal people, or 1 very greedy person with a sweet tooth

Beryl and I have learned a little bit about goat meat in the last couple years. First, we got some goat at the farmers market and we learned we absolutely loved goat meat: we found it had a slightly more complex flavor than beef, without being too “gamey” like mutton (a flavor we have both struggled with). Encouraged, we ordered goat curry at a restaurant and found that goat could be just as gamey and (in our opinions at the time) nasty as muttony lamb can be. Conflicted, we asked the friendly goat vendor (Terry from Quilceda Farms) at the Ballard market why his goat was delicious and other goat was gamey.  From what I can recall (and blame us, not him, if we get this wrong), the flavor of goat is strongly affected both by the age of the goat and by their diet, especially in the weeks before they are slaughtered.  An older goat who is finished entirely on grass will have a gamier flavor than a young goat that is finished on grain. All the goat we’ve bought from both Quilceda Farms as well as Toboton Creek Ranch has been delicious and complex without being overly gamey.

The following braise is a dish I made up to use a lovely piece of goat we got from Toboton Creek. I’m not sure exactly what cut it was, they called it “boneless rolled roast”, but I think it was shoulder. If it wasn’t, shoulder would certainly work fine here as well. One nice thing about the rolled roast we bought was the layers of fat rolled into the middle that kept the inside moist as it cooked.

There’s nothing particularly tricky about this recipe, but the secret is definitely in the veal stock in the sauce. A sauce made with veal stock and then reduced will have a texture like no other: perfectly gelatinous, flavorful but mild enough to let other flavors shine through, and rich. If you haven’t used veal stock in your home cooking, I implore you to give it a shot. Make some calls, find out where you can buy veal bones (you can buy them pretty cheap at the Ballard market from Quilceda Farms). Follow Michael Ruhlman’s recipe. I guarantee it will be one of those things that will change your outlook on things.

Braised Goat Shoulder

• 1½ lb goat
• kosher salt and freshly ground black pepper
• 1-2 tsp sweet smoked paprika (pimenton de la vera dulce)
• canola oil
• 1 medium onion, chopped
• 4 cloves of garlic, chopped
• 3 stalks of celery, diced
• 2 large or 3 small carrots, diced
• ½ cup dry white wine
• 2 Tbsp sherry vinegar, or white wine vinegar
• 1½ cups chicken stock
• 1½ cups veal stock
• 1 Tbsp unsalted butter

1-2 hours before cooking, sprinkle the goat liberally with salt, pepper, and a light (but thorough) dusting of sweet (dulce) smoked paprika. Place on a plate in the fridge. Remove the goat from the fridge about 30 minutes before cooking, dust lightly with flour and pat off the excess.

Preheat oven to 250˚F

Heat oil in a large dutch oven over medium-high until hot. Brown the goat generously on all sides until very brown (never skimp on the browning) and remove from the pan.

Add the onion, garlic, celery, and carrots to the pan and sweat the vegetables on medium-low for about 5 minutes. Add white wine and sherry vinegar and cook for 3 minutes. Add chicken stock and veal stock, return goat to pan, bring almost to a boil (but don’t let it boil.)

Cut out a circular piece of parchment paper just large enough to cover the meat and it’s cooking liquid and place it on the braise, put in the oven. You can also just put a lid loosely on the top, but the goal here is to prevent the braise from ever coming to a boil in the oven. If you cover it tightly with a lid, the internal temperature will easily get above boiling, but using parchment paper or keeping the pot partially uncovered will allow transfer of heat out of the pot and prevent it from coming to a boil. Still, it always helps to check and make sure the braise isn’t boiling from time to time. Turn every hour or so. Check after 3 hours… the goat may not (and probably will not) be tender, turn and return to the oven for another 30 to 90 minutes, checking every 45 minutes or so until very tender.

When tender, remove the meat from braise and cover with foil in a warm place. Strain the sauce into a sauce pan and reduce the sauce on medium high heat until just beginning to thicken. You should end up with roughly ½ cup of liquid. Add a pinch of salt to taste. When pleased with the consistency of the sauce, (it should be pretty thick and definitely coat the back of a spoon) remove from heat and whisk in the butter.

When ready to serve, slice the goat and fan the slices on a pre-warmed plate. Spoon the sauce over the meat.

Serves 3 to 4

Asparagus is finally here.  

This is very good news.  It’s good news for a number of reasons and this dish is one of them.  Talley found it a few years ago on 101 Cookbooks when we were in a hurry for something filling, healthy and quick.  Now it’s a recipe that we go to regularly, along with many of Heidi Swanson’s creations. The tahini dressing is simple and great; we’ll often make it alone as a dip for carrots and other vegetables.  Melanie and Trillium: you should make this, you’d like it.  I don’t know why I’m writing this since I know neither one of you knows about the internet.

We encourage you to check out the recipe at 101Cookbooks, but we provide it here as well for simplicity (with very slight changes, as we make it).

Asparagus and Chickpeas, with Brown Rice and Tahini

from the inimitable 101 Cookbooks

• 3 tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil
• 2 14-ounce cans of chickpeas, drained
• 2 cloves garlic, minced
• 1 medium yellow onion, chopped
• 1 bunch asparagus, cut into 1-inch segments
• 3 cups cooked brown rice
• 1 cup almond slivers, toasted
• fine grain sea salt

Tahini Dressing:

• 1 garlic clove, smashed and chopped
• 1/4 cup tahini
• zest of one lemon
• scant 1/4 cup freshly squeezed lemon juice
• 2 tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil
• 2 tablespoons hot water
• scant 1/2 teaspoon fine grain sea salt

First, get your rice going. Also, preheat your oven to 450 for your almonds. For brown rice, use a ratio of about 1.5-2 cups water to 1 cup rice for brown rice. Bring rice and water to a boil uncovered, then cover and reduce heat and let simmer for 45 minutes. Turn off heat and let rice sit in the covered pot for another 10 minutes (or just follow package instructions). Remove lid and fluff rice.

Make the dressing: whisk together the garlic, tahini, lemon zest and juice, and olive oil. (I do this whole process in my 1 cup liquid measuring cup – only dirties one dish!). Add the hot water to thin a bit and then the salt. Set aside.

Add a few tablespoons of olive oil to a big skillet over medium-high heat and swirl to coat the pan, then add the chickpeas and pinch of salt. Let the beans sauté for a couple minutes, stirring minimally, to get nice and crusty. This step usually takes about 7-9 minutes for us.

Meanwhile, put your almonds on a pan and roast them in a 450 degree oven for 5-6 minutes – check them after a few minutes – it takes about 30 seconds for almonds to go from perfect golden brown to ugly, blackish burned.

Now add the garlic and onions to your chickpeas and stir. Let this cook for a few minutes. Stir in the asparagus with another pinch or two of salt, cover with a lid for a minute or two to steam–just until the asparagus brightens and softens up just a bit.

Uncover and stir in the rice and almond slivers, reserving a few almonds for garnish. Taste and add more salt if needed (likely).

Serve in a big bowl drizzled with a few tablespoons of the tahini dressing, but have the rest of the dressing on hand so each person can add more to his or her taste.

Serves 4 to 6

In our yard, the first edible plant plant to emerge in the spring is our neighbor’s rhubarb. It’s ready to go before the asparagus, before the baby lettuces, and, since our neighbor seems to condone it, we happily avail ourselves of the resource (Gwen, next time we see you we’re going to greet you with this drink). But what do you do when you have a glut of gorgeous rhubarb and no strawberries to speak of? Rhubarb cocktails!

Rhubarb has a biting sourness and a great tannic mouthfeel that makes it a perfect substitute for citrus in cocktails, and yet, it’s surprisingly rare ingredient on your average cocktail list. The following cocktail nicely captures the essence of rhubarb, with its distinctive flavor and slight bitterness. The rhubarb is used to make a light syrup that could really be incorporated into a variety of drinks. Here it’s mixed with gin and Aperol, which is an Italian aperitif that also lists rhubarb among it’s multiple ingredients. If you can’t find Aperol, you should still make this syrup and mix it with your spirits, but the Aperol provides a bitterness and a balance that makes this drink one of my new spring-time favorites.

As a side note, were you aware that rhubarb is legally classified in the US as a fruit? It’s true! Even though it’s technically a vegetable, a US Customs Court ruled in 1947 that since rhubarb was mainly used as a “fruit” it would be classified as such. This effectively allowed rhubarb to be imported with a lower tariff than if it were classified a vegetable.

The Rhubarberol Cocktail

Light rhubarb syrup

• a bunch of rhubarb stalks (depending on how much syrup you want to end up with), cut into chunks
• light simple syrup to cover (2 parts water to 1 part sugar, heated until dissolved)

Pack the rhubarb into a saucepan and barely cover with simple syrup, you want this to be as intensely flavored as possible. Simmer on low until the rhubarb is falling apart, about 15 to 20 minutes. Strain through cheesecloth into a jar and store in the fridge until ready to use. This syrup will keep for a few weeks in the fridge.

The Rhubarberol

• 1 small stalk fresh rhubarb (about 25 grams)
• 2 oz gin (use a gin that’s not too strong on the juniper here. I like DH Krahn for this drink, and New Amsterdam would work well here as well… unlike most other gin drinks if you ask me).
• 1½ oz rhubarb syrup
• ½ Aperol
• 1 or 2 dashes Fee’s Orange Bitters (optional: other orange bitters such as Regan’s might be a bit too strong for this drink)

Muddle the fresh rhubarb stalk in a cocktail shaker. Add the gin, rhubarb syrup, Aperol, and a dash or two of orange bitters. Add ice and stir until chilled. Pour into a cocktail glass and garnish with a very thinly sliced twist of rhubarb stalk (I used a sharp knife, but a mandolin or a vegetable peeler might work as well).

One of our favorite parts of cooking is using vegetables that we grow. On the houseboat, garden space is obviously limited, but we have a couple big boxes on the back porch that my dad made us, a ton of big pots, and some space in a raised bed in the lawn off the dock. Vegetable gardens are extremely rewarding, and I’m writing to encourage everyone to try it on whatever scale they can manage. If you live in the northwest, it’s time to start now. My friend Nick Guilford owns and runs Sunseed Farm with his partner, Yarrow, and their new baby. They grow tons of organic berries (the farm opens up to U-pick berry picking later in the season) and vegetables that they sell at the Bellingham farmer’s market all summer. But in the spring, Nick heads south to Seattle with a truck loaded with organic vegetable starts. I worked at his Farmer’s market booth last year, and filled my garden with Sunseed veggie starts, and my little garden pumped out more lettuce, kale, sorrel, cabbage, collards, kohlrabi, tomato, pepper, eggplant, basil, zucchini and herbs than I ever thought it could. Starting next Sunday (April 4th), Nick is going to be at the West Seattle Farmer’s Market and I’m going to be manning the Sunseed booth at the Ballard Farmer’s Market.

Here are some pictures from my little garden last year with all its Sunseed starts:

Here are some shots from Sunseed Farm:

Anyway, this is all to say, I hope that you have started planning your spring veg, and if you are in the Seattle area, I hope you come say hi to me at the Ballard farmers market or to Nick at the West Seattle farmers market. We’ll be posting our favorite ways to prepare some of the lesser known veg that grace the Sunseed shelves, like chocolate mint and sorrel, throughout the season. Here are a couple of my favorite gardening places to go online: Sunseed Learning Center; Diggin Food.   Happy planting!

Here is everything we know about gnocchi: 1) Gnocchi is Italian for “lump.” 2) Gnocchi has been around for hundreds of years, about 700 actually. It was around in the 1300s, approximately 300 years before the potato even showed its face in Italy. Back then, they were really just little dumplings made from flour or bread crumbs. With the introduction of the potato, gnocchi was transformed from a common starchy lump to a softy textured, light pillow of a treat. 3) Gnocchi are most commonly thought of as small dumplings made primarily of potato (and a small amount of flour and egg), but, according to Harold McGee, gnocchi can be made by replacing the potato with other starchy vegetables or ricotta, which is what we’re presenting here. Roman gnocchi are made by baking squares of a cooked dough made from milk and semolina. 4) Ricotta gnocchi are delicious, and not too hard to make, but they require a light touch to really shine and may take some perseverance and practice. So, be gentle with your little dumplings and do not be discouraged if your first batch aren’t perfect, ours weren’t either, but they’re worth getting good at.

Ricotta Gnocchi

Gnocchi

• 1 egg yolk
• 1 lb ricotta cheese
• ½ cup flour
• 3 Tbsp Parmesan cheese
• salt and freshly ground black pepper

Sauce

• 1 Tbsp extra virgin olive oil
• 1 Tbsp chopped garlic
• 3 roasted tomatoes
• ½ cup crushed canned tomato
• 1 Tbsp tomato paste
• 1 cup chicken stock
• 2 Tbsp fresh basil, chopped
• 1 tsp butter
• salt and pepper

Ricotta can vary wildly from producer to producer – it ranges in moisture content and flavor depending on the species of animal from which the milk came and the method of production. If you are fortunate enough to have real, non-homogenized ricotta, it’s important to “drain” the ricotta before using it by hanging it in cheesecloth or in a colander for about 30 minutes to an hour to get out as much moisture as possible. You may be able to find real ricotta at your farmers market, it’ll be harder to find at a supermarket. Another tip for light and fluffy ricotta gnocchi is to press the ricotta through a fine mesh strainer to break the ricotta up into very thin pieces. This way you don’t start with large clumps of cheese. But to be honest, I’ve made this without this step and it’s still delicious. The goal from here on out is to use as light of a touch as possible to maintain a light dough. In a large bowl, fold the ricotta and egg together. Slowly add in the half cup of flour and the grated Parmesan. Season with salt and pepper. Knead the dough lightly for 1-2 minutes or until all ingredients are just combined and the dough is just slightly sticky. One secret to good gnocchi is not to overwork the dough. Add more flour if the dough is too sticky to work with.

Separate the dough in to sections and roll each section of dough with your hands into snake like logs until the thickness is about 1″ inches. Cross cut the logs so the gnocchi is about 1½ – 2 inches by 1½ – 2 inches. Dust with flour and place the gnocchi on a well-floured baking sheet and refrigerate for at least one hour.

Cook the gnocchi in boiling water for 1-2 minutes or until they are heated through and begin to float. Scoop the gnocchi out with a slotted spoon or small strainer. The gnocchi can be sauced and served light and fluffy at this point, but we like to give it a quick sear to create a textural contrast between the melty interior and the seared exterior. Heat olive oil in a skillet over moderate heat, sauté a single layer of the cooked gnocchi in oil until slightly browned and crisp on each side, turning each piece just once. Pour onto a plate or pasta dish, top with sauce and shaved parmesan cheese and serve hot.

For the Sauce: In a medium hot sauté pan, sauté the garlic in the olive oil until golden brown. Add in the tomato products, chicken stock, and the basil and cook for 5 to 10 minutes. Reduce heat and finish the sauce with the butter. Season to taste.

Sage Butter Alternate Sauce: Melt 6 tablespoons of butter in a large skillet over med-low heat.  Add ½ cup small fresh sage leaves or large sage leaves cut into quarter inch wide strips and cook, stirring often, until butter begins to brown slightly and smells nutty and toasty (3-4 minutes).

Serves 3- 4

Like everyone else, we’ve recently been enamored of David Chang’s Momofuku cookbook. It’s not that the book is ridiculously original, or incredibly imaginative. But for someone who has cooked almost no Korean food, the book has provided an opportunity to experiment with another kind of cooking (Kimchi, and Usukuchi haven’t exactly been regulars on the menu here on the houseboat, until recently). But to leave you with the impression that this just is a Korean or Japanese cookbook, would ignore the numerous facets of Chang’s multicultural cooking. This book is filled with reliable recipes as down-home as chicken wings, and shrimp and grits, and as exquisite as pig’s head torchon or shaved foie gras. In a word, the book is inspirational.

One thing that has been fun about the book is the undercurrent of flavors that tend to pop up in various recipes. The following recipe is really just a combination of some of the flavors that pop up more frequently in the book – namely: the kimchi, and the ginger scallion sauce . . . both of which were some of the recipes that were released early on in the promotion of the book and have propagated far and wide over the net. These sauces are wrapped up in Bibb lettuce with juicy, tender steak and served with rice. We’ve substituted flank steak for hanger steak here because that’s what we had in the freezer, but naturally, you could use either. Best of all, everything but the grilling of the steak can be done well in advance, leaving only 20 minutes of work between you and a delicious meal when you get home from work.

The kimchi needs a good week or two to ferment before using, so get started on that way ahead of time. The ginger scallion sauce can be made 1 or 2 days ahead of time, and is fantastic on it’s own mixed with some chinese noodles as a hot or cold lunch.

Flank Steak Ssäm with Kimchi Purée and Ginger Scallion Sauce

adapted from Momofuku

marinade

• 2 cups apple juice
• ½ cup usukuchi (light soy sauce)
• ½ yellow onion, thinly sliced
• 5 to 6 garlic cloves, thinly sliced
• 1 tsp Asian sesame oil
• 1 tsp freshly ground black pepper
• 1½ -2 lbs flank steak (or hanger steak)

accompaniments

• 1 cup Napa cabbage kimchi, puréed
• 1 cup ginger scallion sauce
• 2 cups short-grain rice, cooked
• 2-3 heads Bibb lettuce, leaves separated, washed and spun dry
• good coarse sea salt or Maldon salt

Combine all the marinade ingredients except the steak in a large freezer bag or container and stir well. Add the steak and seal, or cover, and marinate in the refrigerator for about 24 hours.

If you have time, remove the steaks from the marinade about an hour before cooking and let them come to room temperature. If you don’t have time, don’t worry about it. Light a hot fire on your grill or preheat your broiler. Grill or broil the steak for a few minutes on either side, allowing the steak to brown but not overcook. I hesitate to give times here, but depending on the thickness of your steak, the heat of the grill, and the distance between the heat and your steak, it may take between 4 and 8 minutes. I have become fond of putting my steak right up about 1 inch from my electric broiling element. It’s the only way I can get nice charring on the outside without overcooking the inside. Most importantly, keep a close eye on the steak, prod it with your finger to check doneness, or use a thermometer and pull it out of the oven or the grill when it registers no more than 135˚F. Cover the steaks with foil and let them rest for at least 5 minutes. (If you’re someone who routinely ignores the “resting” part of recipes… don’t ignore it this time).

When the sauces are ready, the lettuces is washed and dried, and you are ready to serve, cut the steaks into ¼-inch-thick slices against the grain on a slight bias. Serve the steaks flanked by the accompaniments and rice.

Serves 4 or 5

Kimchi

This recipe is all over the internet at this point. There’s even a slightly humorous video of Chang hurriedly demonstrating his method to a typical morning news host and periodically failing to complete sentences.

makes 1 to 1½ quarts

• 1 small to medium head Napa cabbage, discolored or loose outer leaves discarded
• 2 tablespoons kosher or coarse sea salt
• ½ cup plus 2 tablespoons sugar
• 20 garlic cloves, minced
• 20 slices peeled fresh ginger, minced
• ½ cup kochukaru (Korean chile powder)
• ¼ cup fish sauce
• ¼ cup usukuchi (light soy sauce)
• 2 teaspoons jarred salted shrimp
• ½ cup 1-inch pieces scallions (greens and whites)
• ½ cup julienned carrots

Cut the cabbage lengthwise in half, then cut the halves crosswise into 1 inch wide pieces. Toss the cabbage with the salt and 2 tablespoons of the sugar in a bowl. Let sit overnight in the refrigerator.

Combine the garlic, ginger, kochukaru, fish sauce, soy sauce, shrimp, and remaining ½ cup sugar in a large bowl. If it is very thick, add water ⅓ cup at a time until the brine is just thicker than a creamy salad dressing but no longer a sludge. Stir in the scallions and carrots.

Drain the cabbage and add it to the brine. Cover and refrigerate. Though the kimchi will be tasty after 24 hours, it will be better in a week and at its prime in 2 weeks. It will still be good for another couple weeks after that, though it will grow stronger and funkier.

Ginger Scallion Sauce

makes about 3 cups

• 2½ cups thinly sliced scallions (greens and whites; from 1 to 2 large bunches)
• ½ cup finely minced peeled fresh ginger
• ¼ cup grapeseed or other neutral oil
• 1½ teaspoons usukuchi (light soy sauce)
• ¾ teaspoon sherry vinegar
• ¾ teaspoon kosher salt, or more to taste

Mix together the scallions, ginger, oil, soy, vinegar, and salt in a bowl. Taste and check for salt, adding more if needed. Though it’s best after 15 or 20 minutes of sitting, ginger scallion sauce is good from the minute it’s stirred together up to a day or two in the fridge. Use as directed, or apply as needed.

Jerusalem artichokes are wonderful, knobby, difficult to clean tubers that are easy to find in the northwest this time of year at farmers markets. They are not artichokes (although they taste a bit like artichokes, hence the name and confusion) and they have no particular connection with Jerusalem (Italians called them Girasole, Italian for sunflower, which sounded like Jerusalem to English speakers, which leads to more confusion still). In an effort to reduce confusion, some folks have started calling them Sunchokes (because their flowers look a bit like sunflowers ), which has probably led to more confusion. If you prefer, you can call them Helianthus tuberosus, but I wouldn’t because your friends will probably give you a hard time. In any case, try smashing some in with your mashed potatoes, or add them to a mix of root veg for roasting, or make cream of sunchoke soup. Or, try my new favorite trick: Jerusalem artichoke pickles.

They are really tasty, and stay extremely crispy. They make a good conversation piece if you set some out for company, they are novel gifts, and we recently used them in place of cucumber pickles in turkey sandwiches. The idea came from a book I got Talley for Christmas called The Joy of Pickling: 250 Flavor-Packed Recipes for Vegetables and More from Garden or Market. It’s a mouthful of a subtitle, but a really good book (she has a recipe for pickled nasturtium pods that I intend to try asap, and pickled whole blueberries which she says are an interesting stand-in for cranberry sauce at thanksgiving). We diluted the vinegar ratio from the original recipe because we found it to be a bit much, and added more spice, but that’s the fun of pickling – it’s infinitely plastic and customizable.

Pickled Jerusalem Artichokes

• 1½ pounds Jerusalem artichokes, scrubbed and sliced ¼-inch thick
• ¼ cup plus 1 tsp pickling salt
• 1 quart water
• 4 thin slices fresh ginger
• 2 large garlic cloves, sliced
• 2 small dried hot peppers such as japones or de arbol
• ½ tsp whole corriander seeds
• 1 or 2 bay leaves
• 1 tsp whole cumin seeds
• 1⅓ cups cider vinegar
• ⅔ cup water
• salt
• 3 Tbsp light brown sugar

Put the artichokes into a bowl. Stir ¼ cup salt into 1 quart water until the salt dissolves and pour the brine over the artichokes. It’s important to use pickling salt rather that regular old salt, you should be able to find it at a grocery store without difficulty. Let them stand at room temperature for 12 to 18 hours.

Drain the artichokes, rinse, and drain again.

Divide the ginger, garlic, hot peppers, coriander and cumin evenly between two pint mason jars or 8 4-oz jars (a good size for gift pickles). Add the artichokes. In a sauce pan, bring to a boil the vinegar, ⅔ cup water, sugar, and the remaining 1 teaspoon salt. Pour the hot liquid over the artichokes, leaving ½-inch headspace. Close the jars with two-piece caps. Process the jars for 15 minutes in a boiling water bath.

Store the cooled jars in a cool, dark, dry place for at least 3 weeks before eating. After opening the jar, store in the refrigerator.

Makes two pints

This farro soup recipe is a moving target for us.  We’ve made it so many times that we don’t really remember what the original was like, we only know that we always like it.  Talley’s mom started making it too and has tailored it to her taste; now we’re getting tips from her.  This time we made it with the same goat sausage we used for the grape and sausage dish, but normally we’ve made it with spicy pork sausage.

There is nothing earth-shattering about this recipe, nor is it at all difficult. If you have veal stock, use it – it will turn this otherwise simple, rustic offering into something a bit more luxurious. It is a recipe that begs to be customized, which means you should use the ratios and ingredients below only as a guide. Play around – if you’ve got some mushrooms, throw them in, or maybe some kale in the final part of the cooking. Change up the herbs, double the sausage, omit the red pepper and by all means, if you try something that makes the soup even better, come back here and let us know.

Farro and Sausage Soup

• 1 cup farro, soaked for 5 hours or overnight in cold water
• ½ pound spicy Italian sausage, removed from casings
• 2 Tbsp extra virgin olive oil
• 1 cup chopped onions
• ½ cup chopped carrots
• ½ cup chopped celery
• 3 large cloves of garlic, minced
• 1 or 2 bay leaves
• 2 tsp finely chopped rosemary and/or thyme
• generous pinch crushed red pepper
• salt
• freshly ground black pepper
• 4-5 cups chicken stock, turkey stock, light veal stock, vegetable stock or a combination.

If you have pearled or semi-pearled farro, you probably won’t need to precook it before adding it to the soup, but if you have unprocessed farro, it may help to boil it for 30 minutes or more before adding it to the soup.  You want it pretty firm when you add it to the soup, so that it finishes cooking in the soup broth, but you do want the farro to be tender by the time you are serving it.  Because farro can vary from brand to brand, it helps to know your product and change up the recipe accordingly.  We use Bluebird Grains Farms farro and find that it needs at least 30 minutes of boiling before adding to the soup, and even then, it still has a nice bite in the finished soup.

Heat a deep sauté pan or stock pot over medium-high heat and add olive oil. Add sausage and sauté until browned, breaking up the sausage into smaller pieces with your utensil. When the sausage is browned, remove it and set it aside, leaving the fat in the pan. Reduce heat to medium and add onions, carrots, celery, and garlic. Cook gently for about 5 to 7 minutes, until onions are translucent. Stir in bay leaves, red pepper, rosemary and/or thyme, large pinch of salt, a few good grinds of black pepper, and reserved cooked sausage, and cook for another minute or so. Add farro and stock and bring just to a boil, then reduce to a simmer and cook uncovered for about 30 minutes, or until the farro is firm-tender. Season soup with salt and pepper to taste. Serve hot.

Talley’s mom serves the soup topped with a nice dollop of fresh pesto, and it’s delicious. Try it!

Serves 3 to 4

In the Zuni Cafe Cookbook, there is a recipe for quail and sausage braised with grapes. It is Judy Rodgers’ take on a Umbrian dish called Salsiccia all’Uva. The quail is an embellishment; the traditional dish is simply browned sausages nestled in a bed of cooked grapes, which is what we made. Ms. Rodgers wrote that the dish is traditionally made with wine grapes and is crunchy with their seeds, but at the Zuni Cafe, they forgo most of the seedy grapes and go for Black Emerald or Red Flame. For our dish, we just had to use what grapes we could find. We wound up with some red grapes, the variety of which I do not know. We went with red over green because the green ones were sweeter and, according to Rodgers, you want to pick grapes that are not too sweet.

The dish was a big success. Absolutely simple, just three ingredients really, but still very, very fun to make and eat. Frying grapes is weirdly satisfying.  We used goat sausage in ours, but pork is more typical. Try to find sausage with fennel. This dish was part of a big goat dinner we made last week that was pretty fun. We made a goat sausage and farro soup and two different goat heart dishes. The soup was super and we’ll share it asap. The heart also was surprisingly good and we will definitely be dedicating some time and blog space to this topic soon.

Salsiccia all’Uva

Sausage with Grapes

• 1 to 1 1/2 pounds fresh Italian sausage
• 4 cups seedless grapes
• 2 teaspoons balsamic vinegar or lemon juice

Place the sausages in a  large skillet and turn heat to medium. Cook sausages for about 15 minutes, turning from time to time. When they are brown all over, prick each sausage in a few places with a fork and cook for 5 minutes more (waiting until now to prick them will reduce fat splatter while cooking…).

When they are done, remove the sausages to a warm platter. Remove excess fat (you want a tablespoon or two in the pan) and add the grapes.  Turn up the heat to medium-high. Cook, stirring occasionally, until some of the grapes collapse. Add vinegar or lemon juice, stir, and turn off the heat. Serve sausages nestled in grapes.

Serves 4