Springy Ramps & Asparagus

Walking into the Union Square Greenmarket around 8:30 Saturday morning, I was nearly run over by a man pushing a dolly filled with crates of ramps, those tasty, wild leeks that appear in early spring. I got to Rick Bishop's Mountain Sweet Berry stand just as a swarm of chefs (or minions of chefs) were descending, and plucked two bunches off the pile. I also picked up some beautiful, skinny asparagus from Yuno's Farm.

Last spring, I sauteed ramps, which have a pungent bite, in garlic and olive oil and tossed them with some pasta. This year, I followed an Epicurious recipe for a ramps pesto of sorts, in which you quickly blanch the ramps, coarsely chop them, then blend them in a food processor with lemon zest, olive oil, some starchy pasta water and salt. The result was less rampy than last year's treatment; Fork seemed a little disappointed in the ramps' toned-down flavor, but I liked the subtlety of the dish. There was also a nice zing from the lemon.

I went with a Cook's Country recipe for Asparagus Salad, which is definitely a keeper. Topped with fresh chives, it's very springy indeed.--S

Lemon Asparagus Salad
serves 8

2 lbs asparagus, trimmed
Salt & pepper
1/4 c juice from 2 lemons
1 T Dijon mustard
1 T honey
1 garlic clove, minced
3/4 c extra-virgin olive oil
1 T finely chopped fresh chives

1. Bring 4 quarts water to boil in large pot. Add asparagus and 1 T salt and cook until just tender, 2 to 4 minutes. Drain and immediately transfer to bowl of ice water. When completely cool, drain and pat dry with paper towels.
2. Combine lemon juice, mustard, honey, garlic, 1/2 t salt, and 1/4 t pepper in bowl. Slowly whisk in oil to emulsify. Stir in chives. Arranged asparagus on platter and drizzle with vinaigrette. Serve. [I topped the dish with some more chopped chives.]

Recipe courtesy of Cook's Country

The It Pepper

If you've seen a Taco Bell ad, eaten at an "upscale Mexican" restaurant, or watched Bobby Flay's show in the past six months, you've no doubt noticed that chipotle has become the It chili pepper. The smoked jalapenos are hot, flavorful and just so fun to say out loud. "I'll have the chee-poat-lay smashed sweet potatoes, please!" Just rolls off the tongue, doesn't it?

I happen to be a chipotle fan, and have been meaning to try a recipe for Chipotle-Cheddar Corn Muffins for months. The recipe is part of a lovely deck of recipes Uncle Marc gave us for Christmas. The muffins are chock full of goodies: cornmeal, buttermilk, honey, heavy cream, corn kernels, sharp cheddar cheese, and, of course, those chipotle chilis, along with the adobo sauce they are packed in. The sauce, made from tomatoes, garlic, vinegar, salt and spices, is pretty spicy itself, but it's a really nice spice, smoky and rich.

Fork picked up some soup at the newly reopened Havana Chelsea tonight, and the muffins were just coming out of the oven as we sat down to eat. The homey soup, made with beef, pork, yucca and other Caribbean vegetables, was a perfect prelude to the moist and delicious muffins. We split one after finishing the soup, me picking through to get the bits of spicy chipotle, Fork fishing around for the pepper-less parts (we're quite a pair, aren't we?). I wouldn't recommend these muffins for breakfast, unless you're eating huevos rancheros, and even then, brace yourself, because they are pretty darn hot. But as far as kicked up corn muffins go, these are perfecto.--S

Chipotle-Cheddar Corn Muffins

1 1/4 c all-purpose flour
3/4 c cornmeal
1/2 c sugar
1 t kosher salt
2 t baking powder
2 eggs, beaten slightly
1 c butter slightly
1 c buttermilk
1 T honey
1/2 c heavy cream
1/2 c frozen corn kernels, thawed
3/4 c sharp cheddar cheese, grated
3 chipotle chilis, canned in adobo sauce, seeds removed, finely chopped
2 t adobo sauce
4 T melted butter

1. Preheat oven to 350. Butter two mini-muffin trays (or one regular-sized 12-muffin tray).
2. Combine flour, cornmeal, sugar, salt and baking powder in a mixing bowl.
3. In a separate bowl, whisk eggs, buttermilk, honey and cream.
4. Stir in flour mixture until incorporated. Stir in corn kernels, cheese, chipotles and adobo sauce. Stir in melted butter.
5. Spoon batter into muffin tins until each well is half full. Baked 12-14 minutes for mini-muffins, or 20-24 minutes for regular muffins, until golden and firm to the touch, or until a knife comes out clean. Cool slightly.
6. Run a thin knife around the sides of the muffins and unmold.

Recipe courtesy of The Sumptuous Small Plates Deck by Bibby Gignilliat

Inside Out

Fresh off a day at Yankee Stadium (beer, hot dog, popcorn, you know the drill) and my first long-ish run in awhile (9 miles), I thought my body deserved a healthy meal tonight. Who else to turn to but Heidi Swanson? Fork was off to Brooklyn for dinner with a band mate; a burger was in his future. I knew he'd snicker when I told him the kind of burger I was planning on for my meal: Sprouted Garbanzo Burger. So I spared myself the snickering and told him to have fun with his beef burger.

This recipe is the result of Heidi's experiments to come up with a new kind of bean or lentil burger, since often when you put one of those kinds of burgers on a bun, the burger as a whole is too dry and bready, with too much doughiness and not enough snap, crackle and pop. So she turned the patty into a bun and stuffed that with the good stuff.

You make a hummus-like spread out of chickpeas, eggs and some salt, and then mix that with chopped cilantro, chopped onion, lemon zest, micro sprouts (I used a blend of onion, radish, clover and cabbage sprouts) and whole-grain breadcrumbs. You form this batter into patties and brown them on each side. Slice open, and a burger is born. I filled mine with sliced avocado, more sprouts and a sprinkling of smoky Spanish paprika. Yum.--S

Sprouted Garbanzo Burgers

2 1/2 c sprouted garbanzo beans (chickpeas) OR canned garbanzos, drained and rinsed
4 large eggs
1/2 t fine-grain sea salt
1/3 c chopped fresh cilantro
1 onion, chopped
Grated zest of one large lemon
1 c micro sprouts, chopped
1 c toasted (whole-grain) bread crumbs
1 T extra-virgin olive oil

1. If you are using sprouted garbanzos, steam them until just tender, about 10 minutes. If using canned beans, so jump right in and combine the garbanzos, eggs, and salt in a food processor. Puree until the mixture is the consistency of a very thick, slightly chunky hummus.
2. Pour into a mixing bowl and stir in the cilantro, onion, zest, and sprouts. Add the breadcrumbs, stir, and let sit for a couple of minutes so the crumbs can absorb some of the moisture. At this point, you should have a moist mixture that you can easily form into twelve 1 1/2-inch-thick patties. I err on the moist side here, because it makes for a nicely textured burger. You can always add more bread crumbs a bit at a time to firm up the dough if need be. Conversely, a bit of water or more egg can be used to moisten the batter.
3. Heat the oil in a heavy skillet over medium low, add 4 patties, cover, and cook for 7 to 10 minutes, until the bottoms begin to brown. Turn up the heat if there is no browning after 10 minutes. Flip the patties and cook the second side for 7 minutes, or until golden. Remove from the skillet and cool on a wire rack while you cook the remaining patties. Carefully cut each patty in half, insert your favorite fillings, and enjoy immediately.

Makes 12 mini burgers.

Recipe courtesy of Super Natural Cooking

Almost Fried Chicken

I love fried chicken, but I just don't see myself making it often: I'm not Southern and don't have a recipe from my mom, plus it's messy, a tad unhealthy, etc. But what I can see myself making often is this fabulous chicken dish from Mario Batali's soon-to-be-published book Italian Grill. Make no mistake: this is not fried chicken. But it's a spectacular alternative, crunchy and flavorful and extremely tasty.

To make Chicken Thighs with Snap Peas and Agliata, you coat boneless, skinless chicken thighs with a garlicky bread crumb mixture and cook it slowly over a low grill so, says Mario, "you end up with juicy meat and toasted herbed crust." I initially balked at the "boneless, skinless" suggestion, since in my experience that is the least tasty kind of chicken you can buy. But thighs are juicier, and one I read the recipe through, I realized that if you did use chicken with skin, the breadcrumbs would stick to the skin and slide right off when you cut into the meat. Instead, what winds up happening is the bread crumbs themselves form a sort of skin over the chicken. The meat stays really moist, and the crumbs toast up so nicely.

The secret ingredient here is anchovies, and as some readers know, I have a tenuous relationship with the hairy little fishes. But trust me, in this dish, they work perfectly. There's not a grain of salt in the entire dish (snap peas included); it's just not necessary once you blend in three (or four) anchovies to the bread crumb mixture and spoon a dollop of anchovy paste into the hot olive oil that will coat the beans.

I can't wait to try this recipe on a real grill this summer.--S

Chicken Thighs with Snap Peas and Agliata

Serves 6

12 garlic cloves, crushed
3/4 c extra-virgin olive oil
2 salt-packed anchovies, filleted, rinsed, and patted dry, or 4 oil-packed fillets, drained
1/2 c chopped fresh Italian parsley
2 c fresh bread crumbs
12 boneless, skinless chicken thighs
4 shallots, sliced 1/4" thick
1 t anchovy paste
1 lb sugar snap peas

1. Combine the garlic, 1/2 c of the oil, the anchovies, parsley, and bread crumbs in a food processor and zap until smoothish.
2. Put the chicken thighs in a large bowl and sprinkle with the bread crumb mixture, turning to coat well. Arrange in a single layer on a platter and put in the refrigerator for 15 minutes.
3. Bring a large pot of water to a boil. Set up an ice bath. Drop the snap peas into the water and cook just until bright green, about 1 minute. Drain, plunge into the ice bath to cool, and drain again. Set aside.
4. Prepare a gas or charcoal grill for indirect grilling. [Or heat your grill pan to medium heat.]
5. Place the chicken thighs skinned side up on the cooler part of the grill, cover the grill, and grill, turning once, until the chicken is cooked through, about 15 minutes per side.
6. Meanwhile, heat the remaining 1/4-c. oil in a 10" to 12" saute pan over medium heat. Add the shallots and anchovy paste and cook, stirring occasionally, until the shallots are soft, about 5 minutes. Add the snap peas and cook, stirring, just until heated through. Transfer the snap peas to a platter.
7. Arrange the thighs on top of the snap peas and serve.

Recipe courtesy of Italian Grill

A New Pizza Rustica

I'm learning that every family has their own version of classic dishes, and Pizza Rustica among Italians is no exception. Our family friend Linda makes the traditional savory Easter pie with hard-boiled eggs and salami; my colleague Louisa uses dry basket cheese and sausage. Last year, my family abandoned our usual "Cement Pie" (so named for the dozen or so hard-boiled eggs in one pie) in favor of a jazzier version with spinach and roasted red peppers. And this year, my cousin Kathy and I continued to experiment, with a recipe Chris Kimball of Cook's Illustrated gave me last summer.

This Pizza Rustica was a free-form creation, meaning we shaped it into a pie on a cookie sheet, without the confines of the walls of a pie dish or springform pan. This resulted in a rather, um, rustic looking pie, gently misshapen, but we kind of liked it that way. Besides, it's what's inside the Easter pie that counts, right? And the contents of this pie featured some real gems: fresh spinach, mushrooms, ricotta cheese, freshly grated Parmesan, sweet Italian sausage, prosciutto, and plenty of herbs and spices, plus some beaten eggs to bind it all together. As with any Pizza Rustica I've ever made, this one was labor-intensive, but part of the tradition of the Easter pie is that you make it with your family's help, one or two days before Easter, knowing your extended family is going to be so happy when they see this culinary wonder hit the table.

And when we gathered at my aunt's house on Easter afternoon and sliced the pie, they were happy indeed. Aunt Mimi told me she never really liked Pizza Rustica (some comment about its cement-ness), but that this one, she loved. Pop did his usual routine, throwing his head back in ecstasy and hands in the air at the deliciousness of what Kathy and I had made, as he always does when we cook something--but he later admitted that his performance was not an act, because this time, the food actually warranted such grandiose behavior. My co-chef and I agreed; this was one tasty Pizza. Moist, rich, but not overly so, a little salty from the meats and light, thanks to our extra efforts to press the ricotta through a sieve before mixing it in with the other filling ingredients.

I'm sure we'll return to Cement Pie one of these Easters, but I, for one, am enjoying this walk on the lighter side.--S

Pizza Rustica

Serves 12 as a main course or 18 as an appetizer

10 to 12 ounces fresh spinach, stemmed, washed, or one package (10 ounces) frozen spinach, thawed, squeezed dry
2 egg yolks
1 egg
1 container (15 ounces) ricotta cheese
3/4 c freshly grated Parmesan cheese
3 T unsalted butter
1 medium onion, chopped
2 cloves garlic, minced
1/2 t salt
1/2 t freshly ground black pepper
1/4 t ground nutmeg
1 T olive oil
1 to 1 1/4 c thickly sliced mushrooms (about 4 ounces)
1/2 lb sweet Italian sausage, meat removed from casings
3 to 4 ounces prosciutto, cut into small squares
1/4 c chopped fresh parsley
1 t dried basil, crumbled, or 1/4 c shopped fresh basil
Pinch cayenne pepper
Double recipe pastry dough

Egg wash:
1 egg yolk beaten with 1 t milk or heavy cream

1. If using fresh spinach, blanch briefly in large pot of boiling salted water until wilted, 1 to 2 minutes. Drain; rinse under cold water to stop cooking. Squeeze dry thoroughly. Coarsely chop fresh or frozen spinach. Reserve.
2. Beat egg yolks and egg together in bowl. Sieve in ricotta; stir to combine. Stir in Parmesan.
3. Heat 2 T of the butter in large skillet over medium heat. When foam subsides, add onion. Saute until wilted, about 5 minutes. Add garlic; saute 2 minutes. Add chopped spinach, salt, pepper, and nutmeg. Raise heat; dry out spinach, tossing, about 4 minutes. Add to ricotta mixture.
4. Heat remaining 1 T butter and olive oil in skillet. When foam subsides, add mushrooms. Saute until lightly golden, 3 to 4 minutes. Add to ricotta mixture. Crumble sausage meat into skillet; saute until meat loses raw look, about 4 minutes. Drain excess fat; add sausage to bowl. Add ham, parsley, basil, and cayenne to bowl; toss to combine. Chill. Correct seasonings.
5. Preheat oven to 425 degrees F.
6. Roll out slightly more than one-third of the pastry on a lightly floured surface into 1/8"-thick rectangle or circle. Transfer pastry to baking sheet. Brush lightly with egg wash. Arrange filling on pastry, leaving 1- to 1.5" border all around. Mound filling in center, building up sides.
7. Roll out remaining pastry into rectangle or circle to match bottom. Lay pastry loosely over filling. Press edges of top piece of pastry together with bottom piece of pastry. Trim pastry, leaving 1- to 1.5" border. Brush top piece of pastry with egg wash. Roll up pastry border all around; press against top piece of pastry. Press edge with fork; brush border with egg wash. Cut two or three steam vents in top. Chill.
8. Brush pastry again with egg wash. Form decorations [we used a bunny cookie cutter] with pastry trimmings, if you like. Affix to top; brush with egg wash. Bake until pastry begins to brown, about 10 minutes. If browning too fast, lower oven heat to 350. Bake until golden, about 45 minutes in all. Let pizza sit about 10 minutes. Cut pie in half lengthwise with long serrated knife; then cut in thin crosswise slices. Serve hot or warm.

Just a Little Irish

I usually avoid my local Irish pub on St. Patrick's Day (amateur night, and all that) and I totally forgot to wear green today. But I did celebrate in my own way, baking two loaves of Irish Soda Bread.

My recipe comes from Kathleen's Bake Shop Cookbook, and calls for the usual quick bread ingredients, a touch of sugar, plus raisins, caraway seeds and buttermilk. Traditionalists will say it's not really Irish Soda Bread--apparently the raisins make it Spotted Dog or Railway Cake. Well, whatever it is, it's very easy and very tasty. I enjoyed some last night for dinner, and again this morning, toasted, with a little butter. It's crumbly, a little scone-like, slightly sweet and with a little bite from the caraway. I'll hit Molly's another night, and wear green tomorrow. Today, I'm perfectly happy with soda bread.--S

Irish Soda Bread

4 c all-purpose flour
2 T granulated sugar
1 T baking powder
1 t baking soda
1 t salt
1/2 c butter
1 c raisins
3 T caraway seeds
2 c buttermilk

1. Preheat oven to 375. Lightly grease a large cookie sheet.
2. In a large bowl, stir together flour, sugar, baking powder, baking soda, and salt. Using a pastry blender or fork, cut in butter until mixture resembles coarse meal. Add raisins and caraway seeds and toss lightly. Add buttermilk and toss mixture with a fork until all dry ingredients are moistened. Dough will be very soft.
3. Form dough into a ball and lightly knead on a floured board for about 30 seconds or until dough is smooth. Divide dough into two equal portions and shape into balls. Place them on the cookie sheet, and with a sharp knife, cut an X on top of each loaf about 1/4-in. deep.
4. Bake for 50 minutes, or until crusty and golden.

Yield: 2 loaves.

Recipe courtesy of Kathleen's Bake Shop Cookbook

Spring Sablés

As Dorie Greenspan explains in the intro to her recipe for Sablés, the tender shortbread cookies are as popular in France as chocolate chip cookies are in the U.S. The French word "sablé" means "sandy" in English, and it isn't too far a stretch to imagine these cookies as pecan sandies minus the pecans, since they are buttery, crumbly and truly melt-in-your-mouth. I was looking for a simple yet delicious cookie to give to friends yesterday, and these fit the bill perfectly. I was even able to give them a little springy touch by using sparkly multicolored pastel sugar.

The key to keeping sablés sandy is to mix the dough just enough so the flour is incorporated. You want to work the dough as little as possible; Dorie says it should be moist and clumpy, as opposed to smooth. The other important thing to consider is that butter is the star ingredient in sablés, so it's wise to use quality stuff. The March issue of Saveur has an amazing spread (ha) of great butters, including Plugra European Style Butter, an 82%-fat sweet cream butter, which I used for the sablés. Dorie says the longer you chill the dough before baking the cookies, the better; I chilled it overnight.

It's hard to see a cookie like this taking off in the U.S.--it's too understated and simple to gain real traction against the chocolate chip or the oatmeal raisin. But when you want something yummy to accompany a nice cup of tea, a sablé is just the thing.--S

Sablés

2 sticks (8 oz.) unsalted butter (preferably high-fat, like Plugra), softened at room temperature
1/2 c granulated sugar
1/4 c confectioners' sugar, sifted before measuring
1/2 t salt, preferably sea salt
2 large egg yolks, preferably at room temperature
2 cc all-purpose flour.

For the decoration (optional):
1 egg yolk
Crystal or dazzle sugar

1. Working in a mixer fitted with a paddle attachment, beat the butter at medium speed until it is smooth and very creamy. Add the sugars and salt and continue to beat until smooth and velvety, not fluffy and airy, about 1 minute. Reduce the mixer speed to low and beat in 2 egg yolks, again beating until well blended.
2. Turn off the mixer, pour in the flour, drape a kitchen towel over the mixer and pulse the mixer about 5 times at low speed for 1 or 2 seconds each time. Take a peek; if there is still a lot of flour on the surface of the dough, pulse a couple of more times; if not, remove the towel. Continuing at low speed, stir for about 30 seconds more, just until the flour disappears into the dough and the dough looks uniformly moist. If you still have some flour on the bottom of the bowl, stop mixing and use a rubber spatula to work the rest of it into the dough. (The dough will not come together in a ball -- and it shouldn't. You want to work the dough as little as possible. What you're aiming for is a soft, moist, clumpy dough. When pinched, it should feel a little like Play-Doh.)
3. Scrape the dough onto a work surface, gather it into a ball and divide it in half. Shape each piece into a smooth log about 9 inches long (it's easiest to work on a piece of plastic wrap and use the plastic to help form the log). Wrap the logs well and chill them for at least 2 hours. The dough may be kept in the refrigerator for up to 3 days or frozen for up to 2 months.
4. When ready to bake, center a rack in the oven and preheat the oven to 350 degrees. Line a baking sheet with a silicone baking mat or parchment paper and keep it at the ready.
5. To decorate the edges of the sables, whisk the egg yolk until smooth. Place one log of chilled dough on a piece of waxed paper and brush it with yolk (the glue), and then sprinkle the entire surface of the log with sugar. Trim the ends of the roll if they are ragged and slice the log into 1/3-inch-thick cookies.
6. Place the rounds on the baking sheet, leaving an inch of space between each cookie, and bake for 17 to 20 minutes, rotating the baking sheet at the halfway point. When properly baked, the cookies will be light brown on the bottom, lightly golden around the edges and pale on top. Let the cookies rest 1 or 2 minutes before carefully lifting them onto a cooling rack with a wide metal spatula. Repeat with the remaining log of dough. (Make sure the sheet is cool before baking each batch.)

Recipe courtesy of Baking by Dorie Greenspan

This Is Not Chocolate Cake

But it sure does look like it, doesn't it? There's not a bit of chocolate in this Sticky Teff-Kissed Spice Loaf. The dark color comes from blackstrap molasses, super-thick and bittersweet. I love this cake. I've made it a few times and each time it's a winner. Sweet but not overly so, and a little spicy, thanks to ground ginger, cinnamon, allspice and cloves, plus some fresh grated ginger. The other secret ingredient is teff flour, a very nutritious whole grain flour. Compared to other grains, teff has a much larger percentage of bran and germ so it's a very good source of dietary fiber, protein and iron. Of course, I probably counteract all the health benefits but eating the cake with a dollop of fresh whipped cream on top.

The recipe makes two loaves, so I shared one from this recent batch with my friend Deena. Make some for you and a friend today.--S

Sticky Teff-Kissed Spice Loaves

2 c whole-wheat pastry flour
1 c brown teff flour
1 1/2 t baking soda
1/2 t fine-grain sea salt
2 t ground ginger
1 T ground cinnamon
1/2 t ground allspice
1/4 t ground cloves
1 c unsalted butter
1/2 c water
3/4 c blackstrap molasses
3/4 c honey
1 c natural cane sugar
3 large eggs, at room temperature
1/2 c milk
1-inch piece fresh ginger, peeled and grated
Freshly whipped cream, for topping

1. Preheat the oven to 325 and position the racks in the middle of the oven. Butter and flour two 8x4-in. loaf pans, tapping out any extra flour.
2. Combine the flours, baking soda, salt, ground ginger, cinnamon, allspice, and cloves and whisk to combine.
3. Combine the butter, water, molasses, honey, and sugar in a small saucepan over medium heat. Cook, stirring, until well-blended. Pour into a large bowl and let cool until it isn't hot on your tongue when you're sneaking a taste. Whisk in the eggs one at a time and then the milk. Switch to a rubber spatula and fold in the dry ingredients in 3 increments. You might have a few lumps, but resist overmixing. Fold in the grated ginger.
4. Pour the batter into the prepared pans and bake for 50 to 60 minutes, or until loosely set in the center. Don't overbake or you'll lose much of the signature stickiness. Let cool in the pan. Slice and serve with a big dollop of whipped cream.

NB: These cakes keep beautifully in the refrigerator for up to a week. They also freeze well double-bagged in plastic with the air pressed out.

Recipe courtesy of Super Natural Cooking

Somewhere Between Stuttgart and Paris

I visited Alsace once during the year I spent as a student in Paris. Unfortunately, I have only a fuzzy memory of what I ate on that trip: a bowl of choucroute here, a slice of kugelhopf there. Fortunately, the March issue of Gourmet features a terrific collection of "Alsatian Sensation" recipes to bring me right back to Strasbourg. Last night I made Chicken in Riesling, Alsace's version of coq au vin. I definitely did not eat this when I visited Alsace, because there is no way I would've forgotten such a delicious and comforting meal.

As the recipe's headnote explains, coq au vin made with red wine is probably the best-known take on the French dish in America. But most regions of France have their own version incorporating local wines. Naturally, Alsace's coq au vin calls on Riesling to give a "gentle richness" to the dish. Fork has always been a Riesling fan, and for last night's meal he picked out a 2005 Trimbach Riesling, which was a little citrusy and fruity with a nice dry finish.

I used my cast-iron dutch oven to brown chicken breasts and thighs in oil and butter, then took the chicken out and cooked chopped leeks and shallot until they were golden. I returned the chicken to the pot, along with carrots and a cup of the wine. Once the liquid reduced, I put the dish in a 350-degree oven for 20 minutes. While the chicken braised, I peeled small red potatoes, which was a little time-consuming, but I took a seat for the task, and took sips of wine to keep me going. I simmered the potatoes until they were just tender. The final step: a half-cup of heavy cream into the chicken dish (my supermarket didn't have creme fraiche, which the recipe suggested), a shot of lemon juice, and the potatoes.

It was very quiet while Fork and I ate. After a minute he said, "This is a winner." After a few more minutes, as the chicken started disappearing, we sopped up the flavorful broth and bits of shallot and leek with bread. Chicken in Riesling: a winner, a new Alsatian taste, a classic.--S

Macaroni Pie

Last night's dinner was a bit of a dud with the best intentions: I decided to finally use some dried pasta and porcini mushrooms my mom brought me back from Italy a few months ago, but to rather poor effect. The sauce I made--from garlic, olive oil and canned tomatoes--wasn't rich enough for the mushrooms, and adding cream helped only slightly. I was truly bummed over handling such fine ingredients so poorly, and moped around all night until Fork got the brilliant idea that I should make a batch of Blondies. It helped a little.

But tonight I was determined to make something good out of the leftovers. I'd saved about half the pasta--"stringozzi" that was thicker than spaghetti and had a delightful chewiness to it--and did not sauce it, just drizzled it with olive oil to prevent it from clumping. My idea this evening was to make macaroni pie, something I'd never made before but that I know various family members adore.

I went with Giada De Laurentiis's recipe for Pizza di Spaghetti. She has you dress cooked spaghetti with olives and tomato sauce; I skipped the olives and made a batch of my mom's sauce, and mixed it in with the pasta. In a bowl, you combine eggs, milk and grated Parmesan with a little salt and pepper, and then you add your sauced pasta to that mixture. You grease a non-stick skillet with a good amount of olive oil, then pour the pasta-egg mixture in, pressing it down into the pan. After eight or so minutes you very carefully flip it onto a plate and slide it back into the pan so the other side can cook, a maneuver not unlike Spanish Laura's technique when making tortilla espanola. Another six minutes and it's ready to eat.

This was the delicious meal I'd wanted last night. The crispy exterior gave way to the soft and chewy pasta inside, and the overall taste of the dish was richer, more flavorful and pulled-together than simple pasta with tomato sauce, thanks to the binding powers of egg, milk and cheese. I am so relieved my mother didn't schlepp that pasta home from Umbria for nothing.--S

A Wintry Seafood Dinner

For Fork's birthday last week, we kept with tradition and went out for a fancier-than-usual dinner, this year at The Modern. It was a grand meal, showcasing Alsatian specialties from tarte flambee to liverwurst to apple streudel. We went the day after Fork's birthday, so on his actual day, I wasn't about to chintz out and order a pizza (and that's not because we're lacking good pizza delivery these days).

I planned a special meal at home on Fork's birthday involving many of his favorite foods, including an opening smorgasbord of Saint-Marcellin cheese with crusty baguette, shrimp cocktail, cerignola olives and a bottle of Alabarino. For dinner, I returned to a recipe I'd tried once before, Striped Bass with Lemon, White Wine, and Butter Sauce, from The Flexitarian Table. You could use any firm white fish for this dish: striped bass, cod, hake, halibut or snapper. I did use bass, a nice thick fillet from Whole Foods. The technique is a cinch: you lay the fish in an ovenproof skillet, place cubes of butter and chopped shallot over it, pour a third of a cup of dry white wine and some lemon juice over and around it, and season it with salt, red pepper flakes and sprigs of thyme. You bring the liquid to a boil over high heat, and then transfer the skillet to a 400-degree oven. About 15 or 20 minutes later you've got a moist, rich and deeply flavorful piece of fish.

On the side, I served Braised Leeks au Gratin, a recipe from my mom. I made sure to use top-notch ingredients, since there aren't many in the dish to begin with: sharp Parmigiano-Reggiano, uniformly chopped bread crumbs from a whole wheat boule, Kitchen Basics chicken stock, and big, bright leeks. The result was a warm and cozy meshing of soft leeks and crunchy cheese and bread.

It was a rather nice primer to Friday night's Alsatian feast, if I do say so myself.--S


Striped Bass with Lemon, White Wine, and Butter Sauce

1 1-lb. striped bass fillet
3 T unsalted butter, cubed
2 T finely chopped shallot
1/3 c. dry white wine
2 T fresh lemon juice
Sea salt or kosher salt
Pinch of red pepper flakes
3-4 sprigs of fresh thyme or tarragon

1. Set a rack in the upper third of the oven and preheat the oven to 400 degrees.
2. Lay the fish in an ovenproof skillet that will hold it comfortably (cut it in half if necessary). Scatter the butter cubes and shallot over the fish, pour the wine and lemon juice over and around, and season the fish with salt and the red pepper flakes. Scatter the thyme or tarragon sprigs over the fish.
3. Bring to a boil over high heat, then transfer the pan to the oven and bake until a thermometer inserted into the center of the fish registers 125 to 130 degrees, about 10 minutes, or until the fish is cooked through but still moist. Discard the herbs and transfer the fish to a warm platter.
4. Place the pan over high heat, bring the sauce to a simmer, and simmer until it begins to thicken, 2-3 minutes. Pour the sauce over the fish and serve.

Serves 2 to 3

Recipe courtesy of The Flexitarian Table

Braised Leeks au Gratin

1 T olive oil
1 T butter
3 large leeks
Salt
Freshly ground black pepper
1/2 – 1 c. chicken or vegetable stock
1 c. Parmigiano-Reggiano cheese, grated
1/2 c. breadcrumbs (or stale bread)
3 – 4 T fresh parsley, chopped

1. Wash the leeks well, being sure to be rid of any sand that gets trapped in between the leaves. Slice in half lengthwise and cut into 3” logs.
2. Pre-heat a large sauté pan over medium high heat. Add the olive oil and butter and blend well. When the butter has stopped sizzling, add the leeks, cut side down to the pan. Brown well and then turn them over. Season with salt and pepper.
3. Add the chicken stock to the pan, so that it comes half way up the side of the leeks. Bring the stock to a simmer and then reduce the heat to very low. Cover with a tight-fitting lid and simmer for 10 minutes or until the leeks are tender to a knife point.
4. When the leeks are tender, pre-heat the broiler and increase the heat and reduce the chicken stock until it only just covers the bottom of the pan.
5. Sprinkle the parmesan cheese and breadcrumbs all over the top of the leeks and place the pan under the broiler. Alternately, if you want to take the leeks directly to the table, transfer the leeks to an oven-safe casserole dish and then top them with the cheese and breadcrumbs. Broil until the cheese melts and starts to turn brown.
6. Garnish with chards of Parmigiano-Reggiano cheese and fresh chopped parsley.

Serves 4 as a side dish

A Lovely Leftover

Last week I had some leftover ricotta cheese in the fridge and didn't want to toss it. I know I could've made ricotta cheese cake or manicotti and been done with it, but I was feeling more adventurous. I wound up on a site called The Cookbook Junkie, which offered a recipe for Lemon-Ricotta Muffins from Good Housekeeping in 1999. I was sold.

And I was surprised, too, because for a clean-out-the-fridge effort, this one was great. I'd have been happy if the muffins had turned out fine. But they're actually delicious. Light and citrus-y (I used both lemon and lime zest) and just a touch more substantial than your average muffin. The ricotta lends creaminess to the inside of the muffins, and with an ample amount of sugar on top, the muffins have slightly crunchy and glittery lids. And unlike many homemade muffins, they don't get soggy after a day.

My advice: don't wait for leftover ricotta.--S

Healthy Comfort

It's a rainy night in New York City. I'm hungry, but since Fork is at band practice, I don't feel like cooking a big ol' dinner for one. Yet I want something healthy, as my diet today mainly consisted of two granola bars, a muffin and some leftover ravioli (all tasty, yet lacking in the fresh vegetable department). So I turned to a recipe I'd tried once before, that had turned out well but left me with a few thoughts a la "next time I make this...."

And tonight, I nailed it. I love the recipe's name: Giant Crusty and Creamy White Beans with Greens. It's from Heidi Swanson's Super Natural Cooking, a book I rave about often. You sautee large white beans in olive oil, letting them sit long enough to brown, so they become golden and a little crunchy on the outside, and soft and creamy on the inside. You add some garlic and onion, and then you stir in fresh greens--kale, tonight--until they wilt. Top the dish with some freshly grated Parmesan, a smattering of hot pepper flakes, and you've got yourself a meal.

This time, I made sure to use truly "giant" beans. Last time I'd used cannellini, and they just didn't hold up to the sauteeing as well. I also julienned the kale instead of roughly chopping it, which made it a little softer but still nowhere near overdone. And against Heidi's advice, I used canned beans--butter beans, to be exact--instead of dried ones that I'd previously soaked and simmered for hours. I wanted to eat this dish tonight. And it turned out fine. Next time you want a fast, healthy, comforting dish, I highly recommend this keeper.--S

Giant Crusty and Creamy White Beans with Greens

Serves 6 to 8 as a side dish, 3 or 4 as a main course

1/2 lb. medium or large dried white beans, cooked [I think canned work fine. I used butter beans, but you can also use giant corona beans or cellini beans]
3 T clarified butter or olive oil
Fine-grain sea salt
1 onion, coarsely chopped
4 cloves garlic, chopped
6 or 7 big leaves chard, preferably rainbow chard, leaves cut into wide ribbons and 1 or 2 stems cut into 1/2-in. pieces [I used kale]
Freshly ground black peppper
Extra-virgin olive oil, for drizzling
Freshly grated Parmesan cheese, for topping

1. Drain the beans, then heat the butter over medium-high heat in the widest skillet you've got. Add the beans to the hot pan in a single layer. If you don't have a big-enough skillet, just do the saute step in two batches or save the extra beans for another use. Stir to coat the beans with butter, then let them sit long enough to brown on one side, about 3-4 min., before turning to brown the other side, also about 3-4 min. The beans should be golden and a bit crunchy on the outside and soft and creamy on the inside. Salt to taste.
2. Add the onion and garlic and cook for 1-2 min., until the onion softens.
3. Stir in the chard and cook until just beginning to wilt.
4. Remove from the heat and season to taste with a generous dose of salt & pepper. Drizzle with a bit of top-quality extra-virgin olive oil, and sprinkle with freshly grated Parmesan.

Recipe courtesy of Super Natural Cooking

Brought To You By Lipitor!

Whenever I watch Bon Appetit restaurant editor Andrew Knowlton on television, I wonder who put the peppercorn up his ass. He's utterly humorless, sometimes downright surly, and quite frankly he's not an obvious master of either food or the language. So when Bon Appetit and the Food Network put Knowlton together with Alton Brown to host a one-hour show on "Best American Restaurants," it wasn't exactly a recipe for success.

But before I slam Knowlton, I have to say I really don't hate him because he's beautfiul. And, this one is not entirely his fault. Rather, it seems like yet another case of the Food Network jumping the shark. First of all, the premise of picking the best of anything food-related is an impossible task, especially in an hour. Seeing Knowlton with his Dan Cortese-like mimbo hair trying to say something not obvious about pizza (it's the crust), or tacos (the ingredients matter) was absurd. Not to mention, the foods they chose to judge (also steak, ribs, burgers, fried chicken) is hardly the kind of dining I think of when of I think of Bon Appetit. I guess they needed Lipitor's ad budget. Next year they should call it the Cholesterol Cup.

All in all, this Best American Restaurant crap made me realize a few things. First, I really do watch entirely too much Food Network. But truth is, I mostly watch now to see how stupid the programming can be: can Jeffrey Steingarten make it through10 courses of oxtail without audibly farting, or dying? It also made me appreciate how much I like Alton Brown and respect his ability to teach me something, entertain, all without taking himself so seriously. And, when it comes to food magazines, it's Food & Wine for me all the way.--F

Eggplant Zapatini

Each issue of Everyday Food has a page with the unfortunate title "zap it," featuring a dish cooked entirely in the microwave. I've never made any of these recipes, a little skeeved out with the idea of cooking my dinner entirely with microwave radiation, no matter how safe they say it is.

So I compromised on this month's offering. For EF's "zap-it" version of Eggplant Rollatini, you season eggplant slices with salt and pepper and microwave them "until tender and pliable but not fully cooked, 6 to 8 minutes." I zapped them for 5 minutes, and worried that even that was too much, but it turned out alright. However, I wasn't about to roll them up with a mixture of ricotta, Parmesan, egg, garlic, salt and pepper and zap that. The recipe recommended 15 to 17 minutes and I imagined a rubbery mass of eggplant and cheese. So I baked the rolled eggplant, surrounded with some of my homemade marinara, at 350 for 20 minutes, going on my grandfather's old saw, "I like a nice 350 oven." Once the sauce was bubbling up from the bottom of the dish, I scattered some shredded fresh mozzarella on top and let it melt for another four minutes.

Semi-zapped, I'll take this dinner any day. Salty cheese stuffed inside eggplant that had become almost sweet in the cooking, topped with chunks of tomatoes. And now I've got another use for my microwave besides warming up milk for my morning coffee.--S

If It's Good Enough for Google...

For six years, Chef Charlie Ayers served breakfast, lunch and dinner to the geniuses at Google's Mountain View, Calif., office. His goal: to keep the employees working and not give them any reason to leave the "campus." Ayers' menus offered tasty food that nourished bodies and brains. He left Google in 2005, and now he's written a cookbook, Food 2.0: Secrets From the Chef Who Fed Google.

So what do Googlers eat every day? It's not that groundbreaking, really: smoothies, granola, breakfast tacos, rice salads, vegetable soups and spicy chicken dishes. At a breakfast hosted by Ayers' publisher in December, the chef told me fried chicken was one of the most popular dishes at Google. That recipe didn't make it into the book--guess it's tough to make a case for fried chicken as "brain food."

What Ayers did include was an oatmeal concoction he calls Quick Apple-Oaty Thing. It's a souped-up oatmeal, wherein you cook the apples in the simmering oats, along with other goodies like dried fruit and toasted pumpkin seeds. At the end, you swirl in honey and thick yogurt. I made it for breakfast this morning and have to say I'm impressed. Sometimes small changes can make a big difference. Now I'm off to go crunch numbers or do something equally brainy.--S

Quick Apple-Oaty Thing

serves 1 [I think it's more like 2]

3/4 c rolled oats
1 1/2 c apple cider or water
1 small apple, cored & diced
2 T of your favorite dried fruits, chopped if necessary
1 T toasted pumpkin seeds
1 T flaxseed oil
Wild-blossom honey
Large spoonful of thick plain or vanilla yogurt

1. Combine the oats, apple cider or water, apple, dried fruits, and pumpkin seeds in a saucepan. Bring to a boil, then reduce the heat and simmer, stirring, until thick and the oats are cooked, about 5 min. The apple should still have some texture to it. Remove from the heat and let stand for 5 min.
2. Stir in the flax oil and sweeten to taste with honey. Spoon into a serving bowl and top with the yogurt. Drizzle a little more honey over the top if you want a sweeter finish.

Recipe courtesy of Food 2.0

Pride of Szeged

Let me make one thing clear: I have never had Hungarian food. I don't know what Goulash is, and my only frame of reference for Chicken Paprika is from When Harry Met Sally ("Waiter, there is too much pepper on my paprikash"). I have no idea what Chicken Paprika is supposed to taste like. But I made it tonight, and it was pretty excellent, authentic or not.

Taking advice from my friend Jonny, I made the version from the 75th anniversary edition of Joy of Cooking. It was easy to prepare and didn't require many ingredients: paprika, garlic, a bay leaf, onions, sour cream and chicken. The trickiest part was thinly slicing three cups of onions. I used Pride of Szeged Hungarian Hot Paprika, which is delicious, though spicy. So I substituted about half of the recommended quarter-cup with regular McCormick paprika. It turned out fine, and swirling sour cream into the sauce at the end softened the spice somewhat.

Also at Jonny's suggestion, I made dumplings--another first for this Italian-American. Light and fluffy, akin to matzo balls, they were the perfect complement to the chicken. They served as a kind of stand-in to rice, helping us sop up the hot sauce and straggling shoelaces of onion. Who's Hungary?--S

Chicken Paprika (Paprikas Csirke)
serves 4

1. Season 3 1/2 to 4 1/2 lbs chicken parts generously with salt and black pepper.
2. Heat 2 T butter in a wide heavy skillet over medium-high heat. Add chicken without crowding and cook, turning once, until golden, about 5 min. per side. Remove the chicken to a plate and brown the remaining chicken.
3. Add 3 c. very thinly sliced onions to the fat in the skillet. Reduce the heat slightly and cook, stirring, until the onions begin to color, about 10 min.
4. Sprinkle with 1/4 c sweet paprika, 2 T minced garlic, 1 bay leaf, 1/2 t salt and 1/2 t black pepper. Also add 1 1/2 c chicken stock. Bring to a boil, stirring constantly. Return the chicken, with any accumulated juices, to the skillet. Reduce the heat so that the liquid barely bubbles, cover, and cook, turning the chicken once or twice, until a thigh registers 180 degrees F on a thermometer, 20 to 30 min.
5. Remove the chicken to a platter and cover to keep warm. Discard the bay leaf. Let the sauce stand briefly, then skim the fat off the surface with a spoon. Boil the sauce over high heat until very thick, almost pasty.
6. Remove the skillet from the heat and whisk in 1 to 1 1/2 c sour cream. Return the sauce to high heat and boil until thickened.
7. Season with salt and pepper to taste and several drops of fresh lemon juice. Pour sauce over chicken and serve.

Dumplings

1. Whisk together 1 c cake flour, 2 t baking powder and 1/2 t salt.
2. Break an egg into a 1-cup measure. Add milk until the cup is half full. Beat well and stir the liquid slowly into the dry ingredients. Add more milk if necessary but keep the batter as stiff as possible.
3. Optional: add 1/4 c finely chopped parsley or 1 T fresh chopped herbs or 1/2 t grated onion.
4. Bring 2 or 3 cups stock or broth just to a boil in a large saucepan.
5. To drop dumpling batter from a spoon easily, dip the spoon in stock first; then dip the spoon in the batter, fill it, and drop the batter into the stock. Continue doing this until the dumplings are barely touching.
6. Cover the pot and simmer 10 minutes. Dumplings should be served at once.

Recipes courtesy of Joy of Cooking

No Offense, Oatmeal

I'm back in New York after spending a week in the sun. Oatmeal's on the stove and it's pretty gray outside. It's a far cry from where I was a few days ago. We'd just come home from a gorgeous, grueling early morning run up and down some very steep hills. The turquoise vistas from the top of the inclines certainly were nice, but the real reward came when we returned home and dug into breakfast.

That day, my mom had made a strata--which, in my mind, is tastier than an omelette, much more fun than eggs and toast, and even a little healthy.

This strata included torn bits of English muffin, ham, cheese, asparagus, tomatoes--and, of course, eggs. My mom prepped them the night before, adding each ingredient to a small ramekin (she had stuffed five of them in her suitcase and brought them from home--'cause everyone does that when they go on vacation, right?). Then, in the morning, she arranged them on a roasting pan and put them in the oven for a half-hour.

The stratas were delicious. The eggs were gently cooked, still very soft, and the bread, asparagus, tomatoes and ham were nestled inside, suspended within bits of egg white and yolk. A dollop of dijon mustard added zip. This was the perfect breakfast. Sorry, oatmeal, didn't mean to offend you.--S

Strata
serves 2

1. Combine 1 1/2 English muffins torn into pieces with 2 slices cooked, crumbled bacon (or cooked ham), and 1/4 c cut-up asparagus or broccoli (you can blanche the veggies first if you want).
2. Divide between 2 (6-8 oz) ramekins. Pour over this a mixture of two eggs beaten with 1/2 c milk, 2 T Parmigiano-Reggiano cheese, 1 thinly sliced green onion, 1 t Dijon mustard, salt and pepper to taste. Chill 2 to 24 hours.
3. Preheat oven to 325 degrees F, bake 30-35 minutes, until inserted knife comes out clean. Sprinkle grated cheese and diced tomato over stratas. Let stand 10 minutes before serving.

Recipe courtesy of Traditional Home

Serve Hot and Watch Your Guests Go Crazy!

With a wife and two daughters who are very much at home in the kitchen, my dad, understandably, usually enters the room just as dinner's hitting the table. The preparation of meals is largely handled by us gals, which is just fine with everyone involved. But on the rare occasion when Dad deems to cook, there's a very good chance he's making his signature dish: Party Ryes.

You could call the recipe retro, but that would suggest that Dad had revived it from a forgotten time. The thing is, Dad never stopped making Party Ryes. They debuted in the '70s, when he saw them mentioned on TV during a football game, and he's been making them ever since. A symphony of pimento-stuffed olives, chopped onions, parsley, mayo and swiss cheese, Party Ryes aren't exactly low-cal or high-brow. But nibbled during cocktail hour, especially if you're on vacation, cold beer in hand, deep in a heated game of gin rummy, you could do far worse. The Party Rye is a guilty pleasure appetizer and a nostalgic favorite. With the Superbowl coming up, I suggest you whip up a batch. As Dad wrote at the end of the recipe card he gave me once, "Serve hot and watch your guests go crazy."--S

Party Ryes

Small jar of olives with pimento, chopped
1/2 onion, chopped
1/8 c. fresh parsley, chopped
4 T Mayonnaise ("real not diet")
Party rye bread slices ("no substitute")
Swiss cheese cut into squares

1. Put olives into bowl, add onions, parsley and mayo.
2. Spread onto party rye and top with squares of swiss cheese.
3. Bake on tray in toaster oven or oven broiler until cheese is thoroughly melted.
4. Serve hot and watch your guests go crazy.

What Do You Call It When a Starbucks Closes? A Good Start!

An article in the New York Times this week reports some glorious news: a Starbucks is closing! Actually, it sounds like many of them might close.

“After more than a decade of sensational buzz, Starbucks is struggling,” notes the Times. Starbucks’ Howard D. Schultz said this week he will roll out a plan that “will almost certainly involve shutting down more stores, saying that the company's strategy of saturation (just look at the map of NYC starbucks locations!), its “WalMarting” of the coffee experience, is flailing. that’s great news. My question: what can I do to help hasten the downfall?

Yes, folks, I pretty much hate Starbucks. I hate this tasteless chain for taking over my city block by block, for threatening the livelihood of neighborhood cafes, for hypercaffeinating and giving refuge to dickhead, laptopped yuppies, for poisoning the culinary lexicon with "product" like the triple-shot venti mocha skim half-caff latte and the “frappuccino,” while overcharging for a regular cup of their grainy, bitter “coffee of the day.” And all that was before they started serving crappy food and selling crappy CDs. I have to think putting out Paul McCartney's latest turd on their own label alone is reponsible for 50 stores closing.

OK, maybe I'm a bit of hypocrite. In Madrid, I loved the offerings of Spanish chain Cafe y The. Part of my disdain for the corporate coffee experience that is Starbucks is tied up with the feeling of watching my once-vibrant neighborhood be overrun by developers. Between 1998 and 2000, no less than five Starbucks opened around my old East Village home. It was only a sign of things to come. Back in 1990, I used to walk down my block and see colorful slogans like “fuck the police” scrawled on walls. One day, shortly after the first “luxury dorm” went up and Starbucks began threatening my favorite coffee shops, a new slogan appeared: "ban ATM fees." The issues and struggles of the gentrifying yuppie may lack emotional impact, but about a year later, I was living in Brooklyn.

No, I'm not bitter (unlike Starbucks overly roasted Kona, blehhh). And, I know, you can't stop progress. But you can stop Starbucks, and that, as far as I'm concerned is progress.--F

My Favorite One-Pot Meal

With dinner guests coming on Tuesday and overnight temps in the 20s, I needed ideas for a tasty winter meal. It had to be something I could assemble quickly, since I work all day, and I didn't want something too meaty, since I'd just made meatloaf on Sunday. Fork had a brilliant suggestion: "How about that chicken you make in your dutch oven with the white beans?" It's not for nothing that I'm engaged to this genius.

The recipe for Baked Chicken with White Beans and Tomatoes came to me by way of Aunt Betty (and you thought she was only a desserts whiz--ha). Not only is it a one-pot meal, it also calls for just five ingredients! This is a dish you want in your winter repertoire, trust me. Canned, stewed tomatoes give a hint of sweetness, and once you throw in bacon and onions, a humdrum chicken-and-beans dish becomes a standout meal.

I served the chicken with some roasted potatoes of debatable provenance: I got the recipe from my mom, who got it from Micol Negrin, but Fork maintains Jacques Pepin is the guy behind the dish, and he got the recipe from his mom. Whatever, they're great. You boil baby new potatoes just until they're tender, then smash them slightly and roast them in a 400-degree oven with olive oil, and just before serving toss them with minced garlic and herbs (last night I used thyme). We also enjoyed a Caesar salad with my cousin Mike's dressing, which was, as usual, excellent.

Enjoy winter--for now, anyway!--S

Baked Chicken with White Beans and Tomatoes

6 bacon slices (1/4 lb total), cut into 1-inch pieces
4 large chicken thighs with skin and bone (1 1/2 lb total)
2 medium onions, chopped (1 1/2 cups)
1 (14- to 16-oz) can stewed tomatoes including juice
2 (15- to 16-oz) cans small white beans, rinsed and drained

1. Put oven rack in middle position and preheat oven to 350°F.
2. Cook bacon in a 10-inch heavy ovenproof skillet over moderate heat, stirring occasionally, until browned and crisp, about 8 minutes. Transfer bacon with a slotted spoon to paper towels to drain, reserving fat in skillet.
3. While bacon is browning, pat chicken dry and season with 1/2 t salt and 1/4 t pepper. Brown chicken in fat in skillet over moderately high heat, turning over once, about 8 minutes total, then transfer chicken with tongs to paper towels to drain.
4. Pour off all but 3 T fat from skillet and reduce heat to moderate. Cook onions in skillet with 1/4 t salt, stirring and scraping up any brown bits, until golden brown, about 10 minutes. Stir tomatoes and juice into onions and boil, uncovered, 3 minutes, to concentrate juices slightly. Stir in bacon and beans and bring to a simmer. Nestle chicken, skin side up, in beans and bake, uncovered, until chicken is cooked through, 20 to 25 minutes.

Recipe courtesy of Gourmet.

The Family That Cooks Together...

Friday night, my family and I took a cab over to chef Micol Negrin's Midtown cooking studio to officially wind down the holiday season. It'd be tough to come up with a better finale to 12 days of eating and drinking than attending Micol's "Winter Feast in Northern Italy" class, helping to prepare the meal, learning cooking techniques and tricks, drinking wine and enjoying one of the best meals I've had this season.

In Micol's spacious, tricked-out kitchen (Wolf ranges and ovens; Subzero fridges, freezers and wine storage; Henckels knives), we chopped, sauteed and stirred. The first course was Crepes Stuffed with Two Cheeses & Shiitake Mushrooms in Béchamel Sauce. Micol did us the favor of making the crepes ahead of time, so we set to work making the sauce, sauteeing the mushrooms (a mix of shiitake, baby bella and oyster), mixing them with Raclette and Mozzarella cheeses, and assembling the crepes (my mom directed the positioning of the quesadilla-like crepes into a big roasting pan and ladled béchamel sauce over them). The main course was Slow-Cooked Lamb Ossobuco with Mint Gremolata, which Micol had started the day before. Our task: make the sauce, which consisted of butter, onions, carrot (expertly chopped by my dad), celery, bacon and juniper berries. Once everything was soft and starting to caramelize (under Laura's watchful eye), in went flour, then red wine, then tomatoes, demi-glace, salt and pepper. The side dish was Roasted Garlic Risotto (I squeezed the hot, roasted garlic paste out of the garlic skins), and for dessert, Grand Marnier Mousse with Fresh Berries (layered into wine glasses as per my dad's instructions).

After about an hour and a half of cooking, we were ready to eat. It was an amazing meal: the crepes were a huge hit, nice and cozy, the Alpine cheeses lending a delicious Vermonty taste. The lamb was unbelievably tender and rich, and the risotto a comforting side. And dessert was lovely, light and airy. We ate around a large table with the other class participants (we were 20 in all). About halfway through dinner, I heard someone remark, "How about those carrots! Look how nicely they're chopped!" and before long I heard my dad saying, "I'm gonna bag 'em! Ron's diced carrots!"--S

Oh, No, Bolo!

Some sad news to start 2008: Bolo, Bobby Flay's wonderful take on contemporary Spanish cuisine, has closed. "After 15 years we have closed our doors as of December 31, 2007," reads a sign in the window. "We would have loved to stay longer, but our home will soon be reduced to rubble." The latter statement surely refers to the sale of the building that housed Bolo on E. 22nd St. We expected the closure, just didn't expect it to come so soon or so suddenly.

Luckily, Spoon and I had a lovely meal there recently when my mother and my Aunt Judy visited from upstate New York. It was a typical Bolo affair: a terrific menu of seasonal ingredients, including a lovely butternut squash soup. The service was impeccable, as always. The waiter suggested a lovely Spanish white wine (Burgans Albarino, Rias Baixas) and obligingly wrote down the vintatge on a card for me after the meal. Spoon picked up a bottle for me as stocking stuffer this Christmas, and it sits chilling the fridge.

Bolo was a delicious, consistently excellent restaurant, a class act, and a terrific neighbor. Unlike some other experiences (ahem, Rocco), Bolo respected the block. It's a sad loss to start the year.--F

Merry Christmas!

It started with champagne, of course. Because Christmas Eve is always celebratory: the flocking of family members from around the country to one modest New Jersey dining room, the excitement of it being the night before Christmas, the happiness that comes from delicious eating foods you consume only once a year. Reasons enough to break open the bubbly!

This year, 23 of us sat down to three tables Aunt Mimi had lined up, stretching from the dining room bay window through the hall and well into the living room (God forbid we split up and eat in small groups). And we ate. Six fishes, with a bowl of Goldfish crackers on the table as our seventh. It sure was grand. The approximate order of events follows:

1. Antipasto: roasted red peppers, Italian tuna in olive oil, olives, marinated eggplant and artichoke hearts, Provolone.
2. Fresh mozzarella with tomatoes.
3. Fried calamari.
4. Pop's smelts, with vinegar and mint.
5. Baked stuffed clams in the beautiful clam shells.
6. Fork announces the scratch-off Lotto ticket my aunt left on his plate is a winner; once he has everyone's attention he admits he didn't win the lottery, but that he hit the jackpot: Spoon and Fork are getting married!
7. More champagne, kisses, hugs, tears.
8. Pasta with clam sauce.
9. Shrimp francese, affectionately referred to as "The Shrimbola," accompanied by Pop's retelling of Uncle Louie Barese's mispronunciation of the word "shrimp."
10. Mom's stuffed escarole, this year featuring Gaeta olives (instead of pimento-stuffed), capers (as usual), golden raisins, pignoli nuts, less breadcrumbs and no Parmesan cheese. A new classic.
11. More champagne. Pop tells jokes we've heard a thousand times, we all die laughing, for the thousandth time.
12. Family assembles around the piano for the worst-ever (musically speaking) but perhaps funniest-ever (performance-wise) rendition of A Partridge in a Pear Tree. Spoon can barely keep up with the mayhem, but the glittering diamond on her finger inspires her to keep playing because it sparkles nicely as she plays. Merry Christmas!--S

Botch-a-Mi

At a party once when I was a kid, my grandparents got up and lip-synched to a 1950s Rosemary Clooney song called Botch-a-Mi, a cute little Italian ditty about a kiss making "everything go crazy." Ba-ba-baciami piccina! I still remember it, Pop looking every bit the classy Neopolitan, Mina grinning and blowing kisses out to us.

I thought of that today as I made Chocolate Kisses (Baci di Cioccolato), from Dolce Italiano, which has muscled its way onto my "frequent use" cookbook shelf. This stellar recipe was one of the first ones Gina de Palma created for Babbo, so they carry fond memories for her. Baci means "kisses" in Italian, and here two chocolate cookies are sandwiched with a kiss of chocolate ganache. They're pretty superb. The cookies have chopped almonds and amaretto (my addition, in lieu of dark rum). I made a batch for Fork's family, and after tasting one, I knew I had to make more. The second batch are cooling now. Pucker up!--S

For Good Crack, You Must Have Patience

So about that brittle. It didn't work out so well. I let it sit for a half hour, but it wasn't quite hard... so I let it sit another half hour. And then an hour. And another hour. And the brittle remained, well, not brittle at all. I slid a small metal spatula underneath the nuts and sugar, and was able to flick up bits of it, bits that were quite tasty--after all, what's not to like about nuts, sugar and butter? But it was kind of soft, and a far cry from that break-your-teeth confection known as nut brittle.

I gave it a second go last night, and am happy to report: success! It was a mere case of impatience that kept me from cracking the brittle. When you're making nut brittle, you need to heat the caramel (made of sugar, corn syrup and butter) to 300 degrees. On my first go-round, the temperature hovered around 230 degrees (according to my thermometer, the correct temp for a "soft ball"), and after 10 or so minutes, I figured my thermometer was broken and mixed in the nuts. Soft ball is what I wound up with. So last night, I took the advice of The Wednesday Chef and resigned myself to sit tight, and what do you know? The thermometer hovered at 230 for awhile, but then it began inching up, and up, and up--until it reached 300 ("hard crack," says my thermometer).

Fork stepped in to help, and we quickly mixed in baking soda and nuts, and then poured it onto a baking sheet. They should call this stage of caramel "fast hard crack," because within 30 seconds the stuff was solid. I snapped a wooden spoon in half trying to spread it around the baking sheet. But no matter, we spread it enough--and, ta da! Real, snappy brittle! Give me patience, indeed.--S

Best Biscotti

Christmas cookies of the cookie-cutter variety are cute and all, but to me, the best sweet bites of the season are biscotti. I grew up eating my family's version, which have walnuts, anise seed, anisette or sambucco, and a hint of almond extract. They're a little soft and crumbly, not too sweet and shaped a bit like rounded rectangles. A far cry from the long, skinny and rock hard versions they serve at Starbucks. I once gave some to my building's doorman and he told me they were "Delicious! They taste like something imported!"

While the family's biscotti are still my favorite, I have branched out to try many other varieties over the years, with varying degrees of success. This year I went to one of my new favorite cookbooks, Dolce Italiano, by Gina De Palma, and tested out the Mosaic Biscotti, and the Polenta and Sesame Biscotti. I'm pleased with both, though I'm partial to the polenta/sesame ones. The Mosaic Biscotti are a riot of nuts and chocolate, containing semisweet chocolate bits, and chopped hazelnuts and pistachios. They're a substantial cookie. Next time, I'd chop the chocolate into smaller pieces; the chunks I used melted into blobs that lend more of a homemade than dainty look to the biscotti. But they do taste pretty yummy. The Polenta and Sesame Biscotti, on the other hand, are, to me, the perfect biscotti. As De Palma says, sesame seeds and cornmeal are a fantastic combination. The cookies are light and lovely, with a tender-crisp texture and bright interior. A definite keeper.

I also made a batch of nut brittle to give my grandparents--they love this stuff. It's Best-Ever Nut Brittle from December's Food & Wine, and it looks pretty sweet.--S

Hold the Special Toppings, Please

Totonno's, we're through. Two months ago, we had the traumatic experience of digging in to our Totonno's house salad and finding a fully intact rubber glove balled up like a piece of lettuce. Gag reflex, anyone? Horrified, we called the restaurant, who sent a delivery boy over to retrieve the evidence.

After a period of culinary therapy, we decided to give our favorite pizza another shot this week. The manager got on the phone and sounded curt and annoyed but agreed we were owed salad. Which, this time, was free of detritus. Halfway into fork's first slice of pizza, however, a bite yielded a loud snap, and out with small piece of tooth, came a hard piece of plastic. We're not sure what it is, but it isn't food. And one thing for sure, Totonno's on Second Avenue in Manhattan has problems in the kitchen. Too bad, too. We loved the place and ordered regularly. But we're in the market for a new pizza. Totonno's it was grand, but you suck.

Only 13 More Baking Days

While other girls were roaming the streets of Soho Friday evening looking for perfect gifts for friends and family, my friend Kate and I had a much better plan. Holed up in my apartment with a bottle of wine and Vietnamese takeout, we churned out some 20 dozen cookies. We soldiered on long after the last downtown boutique had closed, 'till the last cookie was cooled and nestled amid parchment paper in a freezer-safe tupperware box. Kate hopped into a cab around 1AM, laden with two big bags of homemade goodies that will go to some very lucky gift recipients.

I'm going to take the liberty of rating the contenders:

1. Trios
Thumbprint cookies times three: you form each cookie into a tiny threesome that showcases three different jams: raspberry, apricot and strawberry. These babies were work, but they were worth it; our faves for looks alone (never mind that Fork thinks they look like zygotes).

2. Monster Cookies
Leave it to Paula Deen: this recipe involved a half-dozen eggs, 2 cups of sugar, a pound and a half of peanut butter, 2 sticks of butter, 9 cups of oatmeal, and vast quantities of mini M&M's, chocolate chips and raisins. No flour (they ARE low-carb, after all). Kate made the dough in an 8-quart pasta pot since I didn't have a bowl big enough, and got quite a workout stirring it. The result: totally over-the-top and delicious.

3. Peppermint Patties
A cookie, not a candy, essentially a homemade version of the classic foil-wrapped York Peppermint Patty. These were labor-intensive and not entirely worth it, though they taste pretty good.

4. Gingerbread People
The jury's still out, since this dough is still in my freezer awaiting its formation into gingerbread moms, dads and kids. But our use of blackstrap molasses resulted in some very dark cookie dough that may or may not be reminsicent of something you don't want to eat. More to come on that.--S