Last Night’s Dinner

I’ve mentioned before that I don’t have much patience for pastry, for the precision and measuring it requires, but I’m lucky that my husband does. A couple of months ago, we teamed up to make Gourmet’s Onion Tart with Mustard and Fennel, and it was a big hit with us.

Mike was really looking forward to revisiting the crust recipe once we got settled in and finally set up Big Red, and last night he did just that. For the topping, I sliced and crisped up two strips of Simmons Farm bacon, then softened three sliced leeks in the rendered fat. I mixed about half a cup of Renaissance Ricotta with about 2 oz. of young fresh goat cheese until they were well incorporated, and spread the cheeses over the crust, adding the leeks and bacon on top. I baked the crust in a 400 degree oven for about half an hour.

Though the texture of the dough was a bit stickier when raw than the first time Mike made it, he was really pleased with how it turned out, and so was I. It was light and tender when baked, with a great texture and flavor. I think we can safely add this crust recipe to our go-to list, as it’s easy to put together and will make a great base for a wide variety of toppings.

Yesterday was so beautiful all I could think about was sitting outside, enjoying the fresh air and sunshine and marveling at how seemingly everything around us is in bloom. We had thawed a large Cornish game hen that made the trip from Brooklyn with us, and we had planned to roast it, but the weather all but demanded that we grill instead.

Mike rubbed the bird with a mixture of salt, pepper, lemon zest and olive oil and grilled it over hardwood. My contribution to the meal was a combination of barley, beluga lentils, asparagus and pea tendrils, dressed with a little good olive oil and a copious amount of fresh lemon juice - tasty, but it got a tiny bit overcooked, and I think I would have preferred the texture if I had cooked the components separately. The hen, however, was juicy and succulent, with crisp skin and a lovely light smokiness that whispered “summer’s coming.”

Cooking with an ingredient that bites you back? Hey, why not.

I had been curious about stinging nettles for a while now, so when I saw them at the farmers’ market on Saturday, I decided to pick some up and figure out what to do with them later. Prepping them was a bit of a challenge, but in the end it was well worth the effort.

Since I hadn’t worked with them before, my first order of business was to check Food Blog Search for inspiration. Soup appeared to be the most popular preparation, and it seemed like a straightforward dish that would enable me to really highlight the flavor of the nettles.

Figuring out how best to clean the prickly little buggers was my next step, and I decided not to leave anything to chance. I donned a new pair of thick latex gloves while I pulled the leaves from the stems, and I made sure the prickly bits were safely discarded before proceeding. I had read that a quick dip in boiling water also helps to neutralize their sting, so I planned to blanch the nettle leaves as well.

I started the soup the same way I do my potato soup, melting a chunk of butter in the Le Creuset, adding chopped leek and cooking it until soft, then adding diced peeled potato (3 smallish ones), salt, pepper, water and thyme leaves. While the soup base cooked, I got a smaller pot of water boiling in which to blanch the nettles.

When I had removed all of the nettle leaves – carefully! – from the stems, I added them to the boiling water and let them cook for two minutes. I removed the leaves from the water using a spider, gently pressing out the excess water with a wooden spoon, and placed the softened leaves into my food processor. While the blade turned, I dribbled in about ¼ cup of cold tap water, just to loosen up the mixture and cool it down a bit.

I then added the nettle puree to the potato/leek base, simmering it another 10 minutes or so before blending it with a stick blender until velvety smooth. The soup could have taken a bit of crème fraiche or heavy cream, but I decided to preserve its vivid green color and float a couple of chevre-chive toasts on top of the soup instead.

This looked and tasted like springtime in a bowl. We finished every last drop.

Barbecue and Iron Man with friends on Friday, a trip to the farmers’ market and the newest Farmstead outpost on Saturday, wandering Federal Hill on Sunday… yeah, despite the cold and rain, we had another great weekend in our new city.

We’re trying to be frugal these days, but I couldn’t resist picking up a package of lobster tortelloni at Venda Ravioli yesterday. Tossed with thinly sliced asparagus, a bit of creme fraiche, and the remainder of the spring onion pesto I made last week, it was sinfully good (and totally worth the splurge).

I don’t usually talk about breakfast here, but this morning’s meal was worth mentioning. I had some Black Valentine beans left in the fridge from a previous dinner, which I reheated and mashed with a little bit of bacon fat until creamy. Add to that a couple of fried tortillas, chipotle salsa, cheese and chopped radish and cilantro left over from that same dinner, top with fried egg, and voila - huevos rancheros.

Not a bad way to kick off another week of good eating, I’d say.

We love our pasta, but it’s rare that we have it two nights in a row. However, my week turned pretty hectic, and as a result I’ve been feeling tired and uninspired. I still wanted to get a home-cooked meal on the table Wednesday and Thursday nights, and these pasta dinners were just the ticket.

We brought a package of Simmons Farm bacon and a big bag of pea tendrils home from the farmers’ market last weekend, and had some (non-local) fresh peas from Whole Foods, so I decided to combine them for Wednesday night’s meal. I chopped up six slices of the bacon, cooking them until crisp, draining the pieces on a paper towel, and using a tablespoon or so of the fat to sauté a cup or so of chopped shallot. I blanched the shelled peas in my boiling pasta water, and then removed them to an ice bath before dropping half a package of bucatini into the water.

While the pasta cooked, I beat four eggs in a warmed serving bowl and added copious amounts of grated Parmagiano Reggiano, Pecorino Romano, and cracked black pepper. I roughly chopped several handfuls of the pea tendrils and added them and the blanched peas to the pan with the shallots along with some fresh thyme leaves, cooking it all until the peas were warmed through and the pea tendrils slightly wilted. I added the pea mixture and bacon to the beaten eggs, and then added the bucatini a little at a time, tossing gently. When everything was combined and the sauce slightly thickened, I plated the pasta in shallow bowls, adding additional grated cheese and cracked pepper on top. I used as many eggs as I normally would have for a full package of pasta so this was a bit eggy for my liking, but it was still good, with the sweet peas, smoky bacon and slightly peppery pea tendrils playing well off each other.

While Wednesday night’s pasta was at least spring-like, last night’s pasta dinner was not exactly what I’d have planned for the first of May. Since I didn’t have anything planned, Mike’s request for ragu Bolognese was a welcome suggestion, and it turned out to be just the thing to take the chill off on a damp, cold night. I put together a quick version of my standard sauce when I got home and tossed it with chunky rigatoni, topping each serving with a dollop of Narragansett’s creamy Renaissance ricotta (one of my favorite ways to finish a serving of meat-sauced pasta since my lunch with Claudia at A Voce). This may not have been the most exciting dinner around, but it hit the spot, and I’m always happy to be able to whip out a meal without too much thought or effort.

We’re meeting good friends for dinner and a movie tonight, which should be just the boost I need. Enjoy your weekend, everyone!

In the days leading up to our departure from NYC, Mike and I were keeping a very close eye on Lucy’s Greenmarket Report to monitor the anticipated arrival of asparagus at Union Square. We were hoping we could get our hands on some before the move, and one recent day we mentioned our asparagus watch on Twitter. One friend was a little confused as to why we were making such a fuss - after all, asparagus is in supermarkets year-round, isn’t it? She’s right, of course, but as Mike replied to her with a smile, “we’re snobby locavores.”

Now, I don’t know about the “snobby” part (and I’d hope we’re not actually snobs), but the whole exchange really made me realize how much our way of eating has changed over the last couple of years. Buying supermarket asparagus doesn’t even occur to me anymore, even in the dead of winter when I’m desperate for it. It just tastes better in the springtime, when it’s in season and grown close to home, and I’m happy to wait for it and then indulge until I can’t bear looking at another fat green stalk.

Though we moved away before our favorite New York area farmers brought their asparagus to market, we scored a big bag of Rhode Island asparagus at the market at AS220 on Saturday. I pulled out the thickest ones for grilling Saturday evening, figuring I’d save the rest for a meatless Monday dinner. By Monday evening, the warm, sunny weather we enjoyed all weekend had turned to wind and rain, so something rich and creamy was in order.

I chopped up my remaining asparagus spears and some fresh chanterelles (sorry, not local), and sauteed them in a bit of butter. I seasoned them with fresh thyme and gently stirred them into a pot of my basic risotto, adding about half a cup of creme fraiche and some finely grated Pecorino Romano off the heat to finish the dish.

The mushrooms were a lovely foil for the crisp-tender asparagus, and the risotto was a wonderful carrier for both. As the weather warms up and asparagus season continues, I look forward to lighter and simpler preparations, but this was a fine way to renew my acquaintance with an old friend.

(Interesting reading on local asparagus here.)

Lots of food and drink related activity this first weekend in our new home, as we embarked on our first Providence food safari to supplement the goodies we moved up from Brooklyn. We had beautiful weather, which made for more enjoyable wandering, and which also meant we were eager to unpack the grill and put it to use.

We kicked off Friday night with a round of cocktails and a delicious grilled chicken rubbed with lemon and herbs and loads of fresh garlic. While Mike took charge of the bird, I cleaned and steamed some artichokes and whipped up a garlicky lemon vinaigrette to serve on top. It was a simple meal, but it was light and tasty, and was made even better by the wine recommended to us by the guys at Eno downtown: Marc Kreydenweiss Partager Avec Toi Gewurtztraminer from Alsace.

A big priority on Saturday was to check out the wintertime farmers’ market at AS220, and were we ever glad we did. Though the space was small and the number of stalls was limited, we brought home something from just about everyone there, and have been happily eating our way through that bounty of local goodness.

The oysters we enjoyed pre-dinner from Matunuck Oyster Farm were fantastic, the greens for our salad and the fresh asparagus were delicious, but the star of Saturday dinner was this beautiful grass-fed ribeye from Simmons Farm. Bathed in a quick marinade and grilled to perfection, it was one of the most flavorful steaks we’ve had in a long time.

We want to get back into the habit of having seafood dinners on Sundays, so we took a trip to our nearby Whole Foods to see what they had to offer. Though I had never cooked with it before Sunday, the beautiful Arctic Char fillets that were on special caught my eye, so I picked one up. Arctic Char is a good choice as far as sustainability goes, and with salmon stocks in such peril, this seemed like a good opportunity to try an alternative.

I went fairly simple with the preparation, seasoning the fillets with sea salt and olive oil and searing them in a hot pan until they were just cooked through. I made a pesto of sorts with a big bunch of spring onions from the farmers’ market and a healthy amount of Meyer lemon juice, and served the fish on a bed of creme fraiche-enriched mashed new potatoes, finishing with a dollop of the spring onion pesto. The flesh of the char is very mild and buttery tasting, and the brightness of the pesto was a nice contrast.

… is this thing on?

So, um, hi! We’re here, in Providence, in our new amazing little home, and it has been crazy and we’re pretty much exhausted and we still have loads to do before we’re settled in for real, but we’re so incredibly happy here. Our new kitchen is a dream, with a ton of counter space, lots of cupboards and amazing light, so different from the kitchen at our old place in Brooklyn. We’re more confident than ever that this was the right move for us, at the right time, and I can’t wait to share more dinners with you all.

Here’s to a new season and a fresh start - I’ll be back again soon.

Whew! I am bruised, scraped, and generally banged up from packing and shifting boxes around the apartment. I think I broke every fingernail (not that they were long to begin with). We accomplished a lot over the weekend, but we also made time to eat well. Here are a few photos:

So did I mention I sent my husband to a butchering demo at the Brooklyn Kitchen last week? And that he got to bring home some amazing pork?

Oh, yes. (You can read his thoughts on it here.)

We spent a nice block of time on Saturday enjoying the 76 degree weather, hanging out with the outdoor kitties and slow smoking the beautiful pork shoulder he brought home. We ate a good chunk of it for dinner that night, simply sliced and served with my first potato salad of the season.

I turned the rest of it into Sunday brunch, browning it in our cast iron skillet with onions, potatoes and red bell peppers, and serving this smoky pork hash with a couple of fried eggs alongside.

We went for a lighter dinner on Sunday night to balance out our rich morning meal: wild Alaskan salmon, quickly seared in a hot pan and served over a salad of mixed baby greens and thinly sliced cucumbers and radishes. I had the rest of a container of Greek yogurt in the fridge, as well as more fresh dill, so I combined them with some minced shallot, lemon juice and zest to make a tangy sauce for the fish.

As much as we got done over the weekend, we still have a lot to do, and I’m trying hard not to feel overwhelmed. I can’t promise consistent posting until after the move, but I’ll do my best. Cheers!

I was cooped up in the office all day yesterday, but from the windows on the 52nd floor of my building it sure looked like a great spring day outside. Since we didn’t have anything planned for dinner, Mike and I tossed a few ideas back and forth over email, and when I suggested chicken with a Mediterranean spin, he offered to break out the grill for the first time this season. Unfortunately, at some point during my commute home, the sky clouded over and a cold mist began to fall, and there went our plans for grilling.

I decided to roast the bird instead, after marinating the pieces in a mixture of fresh lemon juice, olive oil, lots of garlic, kosher salt and ground cumin. We snacked on hummus, marinated goat cheese and warm wedges of pita while the chicken cooked, and when it was ready I squeezed a bit more lemon juice on top and served it with a sauce of Greek yogurt, lemon and fresh dill, with marinated artichokes and garlicky olives on the side. The evening may have turned damp and grey, but our dinner was warm and bright, a reminder that sunnier days are just ahead.