Wednesday, December 24, 2014

Eggs & Tomatoes

Shakshuka. Why have I not written about shakshuka yet? 1) It's easy to throw together with minimal planning (if your pantry looks like mine, which for your sake I kind of hope it doesn't). 2) It's delicious. 3) It's got possibly the best name in the history of food. I'm on winter break (ie grading/course-planning/conference-talk-writing month), so time to make up for my past shakshuka negligence. Mea culpa.

Wine recommended.

Shakshuka is North African, or Israeli, or well what culture within spitting distance of the Mediterranean doesn't have some version of eggs baked in tomato sauce for dinner? There's likely as many versions as there are people making it: the NY Times published one, as did Yotam Ottolenghi (actually several from him); my version takes Smitten Kitchen's version as a starting point and then departs from it entirely. As usual, I make no claims to authenticity. All I'm saying is it tastes good.

Shakshuka!
1 lg (28oz) can crushed or diced tomatoes
1 fist-sized onion, or a leek
1-5 cloves garlic, to taste
1 can chickpeas
1 tsp cumin
1 tbsp paprika (or way way way less if you use the same uber-smokey kind I have)
1 tsp cayenne
olive oil
S&P to taste
good crumbled feta
1-2 eggs per person
chopped parsley and/or cilantro
good sourdough/pita/other bread to serve with
Optional other additions: 
harissa paste or powder
spinach leaves
crumbled sausage (merguez?) or bacon
diced bell or spicy peppers (I take it these are fairly traditional. Whatevs.)
Other veggies as desired

Leeks! Green parts welcome.

1) Rinse & chop the onion/leeks. Toss them in a cast iron skillet with some olive oil and saute til soft/translucent. If you're doing peppers of any sort, this is probably the moment to add those too.

2) Mince the garlic. Add to the saute party, along with the spices.

2.5) At this point, you or your forward-thinking cooking companion will realize that if you're gonna turn that leftover pizza dough in the fridge into pita breads, you'll need the cast iron skillet for that. Transfer everything to a Dutch oven. (This step optional.)

Stuff in pot.

3) Once everything's nice and fragrant, pour in the tomatoes and the drained, rinsed chickpeas. Let simmer until the sauce is thick enough to make indentations to set the eggs into. Near the end, stir in any spinach leaves or cooked sausage. Salt & pepper to taste.

4) Preheat the over to around 400. Use a spoon to make dents in the top of the sauce, then crack eggs into them. Don't scramble the eggs first, since that will make them runny and they'll just go everywhere instead of nestling in their little holes. Trust me.

Ignore runny scrambled egg in the upper right. Don't do that.

5) Crumble feta all over everything. I like a good Bulgarian sheep's milk feta, but take your pick.

6) Put a top on the pan and bake for around 10 minutes, until the eggs are set to your liking. Runny is good. Broil for the last few if you want the cheese to brown and bubble a little. If you forget, you could use your creme brulee torch to get the same effect, but only if you're totally insane. Don't look at me.

 7) Top with chopped parsley and/or cilantro, then scoop into bowls and eat with warm bread. Possible other variations include replacing cumin, cilantro, and feta with oregano, basil, and romano (ricotta?) for ouvo alla shakshuka, or whatever other national spin appeals to you. Buon appetito.

Also ignore shitty camera phone photos. Next time I'll charge my actual camera battery before cooking. Maybe.

Saturday, September 27, 2014

Artichokes + Garlic + Pasta = Love

So it's been what, 5 months since I last posted here? My bad. In that stretch I've finished, defended, and submitted a dissertation, moved to Philly, and started teaching linguistics to precocious undergrads at my alma mater. It's been busy as hell, and as part of my dissertation recovery program I've been studiously avoiding writing anything longer than the answer key to the latest homework. But it's a Saturday and I'm kinda caught up on classes and this pasta is ridiculously good, so let me hereby declare this latest blogging sabbatical over. (Attn. any of my students who might be reading this: That was a performative. And yes, it will be on the quiz.)

Back before the madness that was this summer, on the last night of our super-secret trip to Italy in March, N. and I got dinner at a little restaurant in Bologna that we found on TripAdvisor. It was far too slick for its own good, and I was skeptical, but we were there and hungry, so we ordered a spaghetti al diavolo and a fettuccine al carciofi to split. The spicy spaghetti was quite good. We fought over the fettuccine.


Since getting back I've made it myself twice, and I can tell you this: it can either be the biggest pain in the ass pasta you've ever made, or it can be easy as hell and taste as good. I'm adapting my instructions here from Marcella Hazan, and while I have all the love and respect in the world for Marcella, I will say this about her version of the recipe: it's insane. And not in the fun, look at this crazy elaborate birthday cake that's a lot of work but comes out awesome kind of way (cough, cough). More in the totally unnecessary, will have you cursing her and your knives and artichokes and pasta til you say screw it and just order pizza kind of way. You can, if you want, buy fresh whole artichokes, trim, clean,  chop, and par-cook them, and proceed from there, as Marcella suggests. Or you can get a nice can or frozen bag of artichoke quarters or hearts, and save yourself the time and headache. I suspect you know which route I advocate.

A note on canned or jarred artichokes, however: make sure you get the ones packed in salt water, not vinegar. You'll probably have better luck with this in cans rather than jars. Rinse them well before chopping so they're not obscenely salty. Better still are frozen ones, which obviate the need for rinsing and (I think) taste a mite fresher. At Whole Foods I had the choice between quarters or hearts - hearts will be more tender; quarters will have a bit more chew. Dealer's choice here. I've tried both, both iterations were hits.

So without further ado:

Crazy easy, crazy good, post-dissertation pasta with artichokes
2 cans/1bag artichoke pieces
garlic
lemon juice
parsley
grated Romano cheese
S&P
olive oil
1lb pasta

1) Rinse the artichokes well if they're canned. Chop into pretty small pieces. Toss into a pan with some olive oil, saute for about 10 minutes over medium heat.

2) Mince/crush garlic to taste (3 cloves for my garlic-loving self), add to the pan, saute a few minutes more.

3) Add a good bit of lemon juice, a lot of parsley, and some cheese. Stir, then add salt & pepper to taste (careful of the salt if using caned chokes). Cook about a minute, then turn off the heat.


4) Cook the pasta.

5) Add a splash of the pasta water to the artichoke mixture, then toss in the pasta. Serve with more cheese, parsley, and a drizzle of fresh olive oil. I served it at a dinner party alongside a tomato/cucumber salad from my mother's garden, good bread, a peach/plum/rosemary galette, and some truly outstanding muffaletta meatballs that the inimitable A.P. may soon share the recipe for if we're lucky. Buon appetito. 


Tuesday, April 22, 2014

Insanity Cake #2

Ok so I realize that this is my second post in a row about a truly insane birthday cake that if you have any sense at all you'll never make. But it's my blog and I can, so I will. Backstory: N's birthday was on Friday. When I asked what kind of cake he wanted, he suggested chocolate (duh) chevre cheesecake with rum and raisins. Which is incredibly sweet - the chevre part was for my benefit, since goat's milk is way kinder to my system than cow's milk - but also kind of weird. So I considered for a while and came up with this monstrosity. I'd been wanting to make him the amazing Raw Brownies from My New Roots, because they're amazing and chocolate (duh). I'd also been wanting to make the chocolate tart from my Payard cookbook, even though that got shot down as an idea in the initial round of cake planning. And he did say cheesecake. So... a layer of cheesecake? Under a layer of tart? With the raw brownies as a shell? Chocolate (duh), flavored with rum and cinnamon. Anything else?

I called my sister, who is a far better baker/far more insane than me. The two layers, she said, need some differentiation - just cinnamon up the bottom. And why make the bottom layer chocolate cheesecake when it could be marbled? It occurred to me that the whole thing was going to be a pile of very creamy textures; some crackle and crunch would be nice. Chopped almonds? Bruleed top? Both! I ordered a creme brulee torch on Amazon. I googled cheesecake recipes. I got the torch, realized my existing tin of lighter fluid wouldn't fill it, and not one of the drug stores in New Haven carries butane (really?!?), and ordered that on Amazon too. I de-milkified the whole thing to the extent possible, added graham crackers to the crust because cheesecake, went shopping, and baked for a total of about six hours. Mark Bittman, in his How to Cook Everything, says that replacing the cream cheese in his recipe with ricotta is just fine, so I figured replacing half of mine with goat cheese wouldn't be a disaster. Halfway through baking I realized - after ripping apart my pantry to find it - that my block of good chocolate had been finished in an earlier project, and ran out to get more, only to discover that my options were milk, white, or unsweetened, no bittersweet to be found. So I bought milk chocolate and finished my cocoa powder compensating (don't do that). And on Friday I snuck into N's apartment while he was in rehearsal, bruleed the top, drizzled the whole thing in melted chocolate, lit a candle, and surprised him. And it was fantastic. Totally over the top, rich, decadent, insane, and delicious. And totally worth it. Happy birthday.



Some notes: I've given instructions below for both low- and high-lactose versions. I used goat cheese and almond milk, but go ahead and use all cream cheese and heavy cream. I flavored with cinnamon and rum, but you could leave one out, leave them both out, replace the cinnamon with orange zest or the rum with creme de menthe or or the almonds with hazelnut or whatever flavor combination strikes you. Also, while the marbling of the cheesecake was cool, it all ended up kind of mixing together so you could skip a step and just make it all chocolate or plain. Your call. The original recipes list baking times as rather shorter than what I found necessary, so keep an eye out and check for doneness with a toothpick early and often.



Bruleed Chocolate Marble Cheesecake Tart Brownie Cake with Cinnamon and Rum Because Why the Hell Not.

Brownie crust (Adapted from My New Roots):
2 cups walnuts
1 cup almonds
5 cinnamon graham crackers (Omit if you want it gluten-free, or for Passover, or whatever)
2 ½ cups pitted dates
1 cup cocoa powder
2 tbsp coconut oil
¼ tsp. salt
(This will make extra. Enjoy the rest sprinkled over ice cream, eaten with a spoon, or pressed into another pan to make the originally-intended brownies.)

1) Make the crust: Whizz nuts in the food processor until well ground. Add graham crackers, and whizz again. Add remaining ingredients and blend until it starts to look kind of like garden soil and sticks together when you squeeze it. If it's not sticky enough, add more dates. Be sure to get the pits out first if you want any of this to work.

1) Dates. 2) Nuts & Grahams. 3) Ready to go. 4) Finished consistency.

2) Grease a 10x10 pyrex dish (I used coconut oil). Press the dough into the pan to form a layer a quarter-inch thick over the bottom and sides.



Marble Cheesecake (Adapted from Smitten Kitchen)
3/4 cup sugar
2/3 cup heavy cream/coconut creamer
4 oz bittersweet chocolate, chopped finely
1/2 cup (goat) yogurt
1 (8 ounce) package cream cheese
4 oz of the mildest goat chevre you can find (or another half package cream cheese)
2 large eggs
1 tsp vanilla
cinnamon
rum

3) Make the caramel. Yes, this is nuts, but as the original recipe points out, it's also not hard and very delicious. Put the sugar in a heavy-bottomed pan (I used my cast iron) over medium-low heat, and stir fairly constantly. First it will clump up, then melt into a clear pale puddle. Keep going til it hits a nice golden brown. Pour in the cream or coconut creamer. It will bubble and get all steamy and the sugar will harden up again. Keep stirring. Let the sugar re-melt. Be careful when you can't resist dripping a bit on your pinkie to taste; this stuff's hot. Pour half out into another pan and set that aside over low heat.

1) Sugar starting to melt. 2) Post-cream. 3) Re-melted with cream. 4) Plus chocolate & yogurt.


4) Stir the chopped chocolate into the caramel still in one pan and stir til everything melts. Still over low heat, stir in the yogurt. you should end up with something nice and creamy. (If you want a firmer cheesecake, use slightly less yogurt, down to a quarter cup total/eighth of a cup per half-batch.) Turn off the heat.

5) Stir another quarter cup of yogurt into the caramel in the second pan. You should now have one pan of chocolate caramel and one of plain. (Or do these sequentially, washing the pan in between. Just realize that the second batch of caramel will be hard by the time you finish the first, and you can re-melt it in the microwave but use about 60% power and beware that it gets hot fast.)

Whipped cheeses.

6) Use a mixer to whip half of the cream cheese and half of the goat cheese til fluffy. Beat in the chocolate caramel at low speed. Beat in one egg, 1/2 tsp vanilla, a tablespoon or so of rum, and a good shake of cinnamon.

7) Repeat step 4 with the non-chocolate caramel in a separate bowl. At this point you've got one bowl of plain cheesecake filling, one bowl of chocolate, and a lot of dirty dishes.




Payard Chocolate Tart
8 oz bittersweet chocolate, finely chopped

1 cup cream or coconut creamer
1/4 cup milk or almond milk

1 large egg, lightly beaten
1 tsp vanilla
2 tsp rum

8) Put the chopped chocolate into a heatproof bowl. Pour the milk and cream into a small pot and bring to a simmer. Pour over the chopped chocolate and stir til melted. Let cool 10 min.

9) Whisk in the beaten egg, vanilla, and rum. Stick in the fridge.

Etc.
Raw or turbinado sugar
Chopped almonds
Melted chocolate

10) Preheat oven to 350. Pour some of the plain cheesecake into the crust, then some chocolate, then some more plain, etc, til you've poured it all in. Use a chopstick or the handle of a butterknife to swirl it around til it's all marbled. Bake about 35 min.


11) Pull the cheesecake out the the oven. Sprinkle with some chopped almonds and extra clumps of crust mixture and pour the chocolate tart mixture over. It'll still be a bit goopy and you won't  get nicely defined layers that's ok. Return to oven. Start checking for doneness after 15 minutes. The middle should be a little wiggly and the edges a bit cracked. This might take another half hour, so keep checking with a toothpick and don't despair. Pull out and let cool a bit.

A done cake.

12) Brulee: Cover any exposed crust with tin foil. (I didn't; that's why mine got singed.) Sprinkle an even layer of sugar over the top of the cake. Go to with the blow torch. I found this worked best if I went over an area once lightly so it got little beads of melted sugar, than again to melt most of it, then a third time to get any spots I'd missed. Once you get the sugar bobbling you can lay off with the flame; it will melt the bits around it and fill most little holes itself, and that way you avoid burning the sugar. If you do catch a bit on fire, blow it out, pull it off, fill the gap with more sugar, and re-brulee. 



13) Drizzle melted chocolate over everything. Scatter chopped nuts over the melted chocolate. Stick a candle in the middle. Yell 'Surprise!'. Enjoy.