Pappardelle with Lamb Ragu
Here’s to pink wine season!
As you can see, Friday night was all about decadence - champagne and oysters, followed by fantastic steaks (dry-aged at home by my husband) and a gorgeous bottle of Chateauneuf du Pape. Hope your weekend was filled with delicious treats!
I love how well the flavors of fennel and tomato marry with seafood, so I do some variant of this dish pretty often. It’s another fast and fairly simple preparation. Heat two sauté pans and add a couple of tablespoons of olive oil to each. In the first pan, add a couple of smashed and chopped cloves of garlic, one thinly sliced fennel bulb, and about a cup of thinly sliced onion or leek. Season with salt and allow them to cook over medium heat until caramelized. We’ve usually got a bottle of pastis around, so I like to add an ounce or so of that when I’m cooking with fennel to deepen that yummy anise flavor; if you don’t have pastis, you can substitute white wine or white vermouth, or even use a bit of water. Add the pastis or other liquid to the pan and stir up the browned bits from the bottom, then immediately add 2 cups of chopped tomatoes with their liquid, the juice and zest of one lemon, and a handful of chopped fennel fronds. Adjust the seasoning again if needed, cover, and allow to simmer over low heat for 10 minutes.
Season your fish filets on both sides with salt and pepper (I used halibut here, but this also works well with sea bass, wild striped bass or swordfish). Rub a little bit of olive oil all over, and add the filets to the second pan, which should be really hot at this point. Allow them to cook undisturbed on the first side (if you have skin-on filets, start them skin side down) for 3-4 minutes so they develop a good crust, then carefully flip them and cook on the second side a minute or two more. Spoon the fennel and tomato mixture into shallow bowls, place a fish filet on top of each, and top with more chopped fennel fronds.
“You’re totally playing the comfort-food card, aren’t you?” he said – and he was absolutely right. We had both had a rough day, the rains were moving in, and I was craving something a bit more substantial than fish and greens for dinner. I thought back to an episode of Ina Garten’s show Barefoot Contessa that I had recently watched, in which she prepared a dish of chicken breasts and morel mushrooms in a creamy sauce. As the day went on my thoughts kept coming back to that dish, and it sounded like just the right thing – something comforting yet elegant, rich but not too heavy, and most importantly, something that would lend itself to a bit of experimentation.
Using Ina’s recipe as a base, I switched things up a bit by using skin-on chicken parts rather than boneless and skinless breasts. I wanted to add something green in there, too, and asparagus seemed like a good choice – the combination of asparagus and mushrooms is a favorite. I tweaked the recipe a bit more by using different seasonings, and what I ended up with was a big success – moist, juicy pieces of chicken with crisp brown skin, tender morels harboring a little of the rich and silky cream sauce in every one of their nooks and crannies, and the fresh green bites of crisp-tender asparagus studding the dish. It was heavenly.
Chicken with Asparagus and Morels
One 1/5 ounce package of dried morels (or about 15 fresh ones)
6 bone-in chicken pieces with skin (I used a cut up whole chicken, minus the wings; feel free to use whatever pieces you prefer)
Kosher salt and freshly ground black pepper
1/2 cup unbleached flour
1/4 cup butter
3 large shallots, peeled and chopped
1 cup sherry
1 cup heavy cream
1 cup crème fraiche
2 tablespoons Dijon mustard
2 tablespoons fresh thyme leaves, plus additional for garnish
One bunch asparagus, trimmed and sliced on the bias into about 1 inch lengths
Preheat oven to 400 degrees.
If using dried morels, soak them in hot water for about 30 minutes. When they are softened, lift them from the soaking water, gently squeeze them dry and set aside. Discard the liquid.
Melt butter in a large sauté pan over medium-low heat. Season the chicken with salt and pepper and dredge the pieces in the flour, shaking off the excess. Place 3 of the chicken pieces skin-side down into the hot pan and cook until the skin is golden brown; remove the browned pieces and place them into a baking dish in a single layer. Repeat with the remaining three pieces of chicken.
Add the shallots to the sauté pan with a pinch of salt and allow them to soften. Add the morels, stirring well, and cook for 2-3 minutes. Add the sherry, increase the heat to medium-high and allow to cook until reduced by half. Add the heavy cream, crème fraiche, Dijon mustard and thyme, and stir well until the sauce is smooth. Taste and adjust the seasoning if necessary. Bring to a boil and allow to cook for about 5 minutes, stirring often. Remove the pan from the heat, toss in the asparagus pieces and stir through. Pour the sauce over the chicken, place into the oven and bake until the chicken is cooked through (about 20-30 minutes). Garnish with additional fresh thyme leaves.
Wine Pairing: I usually like to go with a light red wine with dishes containing chicken or mushrooms, but when I read the description of the Scuttlehole Chardonnay by Channing Daughters at Union Square Wines, I had to try it. This wine was absolutely delicious, with round, buttery notes, fresh, bright fruit and nice minerality. It was both soft and crisp at the same time, and it worked beautifully with our meal. We liked this so well we’re talking about buying a whole case of it.
This was light, quick and super easy. I wrapped some sea scallops Mike brought home from the Greenmarket with thin strips of prosciutto and seared them for a couple of minutes a side in a nonstick pan with a tiny bit of olive oil. I removed the scallops and poured my basic lemon vinaigrette into the pan to deglaze it and warm it up a bit, then poured it over a salad of red oak lettuce, pea shoots, chopped tarragon, fresh peas and haricots verts. The salad was tossed and plated, and I placed the scallops on top. Delicious.
One of the surest signs of spring in these parts is the appearance of ramps at markets and on menus around town. For those of you who may not have heard of them before, ramps are a variety of wild leek native to states along the eastern coast of the U.S. from the Carolinas northward. They’re only around for a short time, and they’re delicious, so when they’re available, we tend to binge on them.
When word got out on Saturday that the ramps had finally hit Union Square, we were sure that they’d be gone by the time we made it in to the city, but to our surprise and delight, there were plenty left when we arrived. We grabbed four fat bunches and began brainstorming.
I recently saw a segment on NY1 featuring chef April Bloomfield of The Spotted Pig; they did a brief interview and shot lots of footage of her in the kitchen, and I noticed at one point she was preparing bundles of ramps with the stems wrapped in bacon. I used half of our ramps in that preparation as part of our Sunday brunch, and we decided to use the remainder for Monday’s dinner in an equally simple preparation – spaghetti with ramps. I basically riffed on Mario Batali’s recipe, tinkering with the proportions a bit and spiking the toasted breadcrumbs with a bit of lemon zest to brighten up the flavors. It’s a delicious dish, quick and easy to put together, and it really lets the flavor of the ramps shine through.
Spaghetti with Ramps
2 bundles small ramps, cleaned and trimmed (ours were very small so we used them whole; if you have larger ramps, separate the white and green parts, and allow the whites to cook for a few minutes before adding the greens)
2-3 tablespoons olive oil
1/4 teaspoon red chile flakes
Kosher salt
1/3 to 3/4 lb. thin spaghetti
1/8 cup breadcrumbs, toasted
Zest of 1/2 lemon
Cook spaghetti in an abundant amount of boiling salted water about 7 minutes, until it is just short of al dente.
While the spaghetti cooks, warm the olive oil in a skillet. Add the ramps, chile flakes and a pinch of salt and sauté until bright green. Add the spaghetti with a couple of tablespoons of the pasta water and toss through. Allow the pasta to continue cooking another minute or two and serve in warmed bowls. Mix breadcrumbs and lemon zest and sprinkle on top of the pasta.
Pork chop stuffed with leftover Porchetta stuffing; sauteed broccoli rabe
Scrambled eggs, wholegrain toast, bacon-wrapped ramps
Pork spareribs, borrachos and smashed Ruby Crescents spiked with homemade Caesar dressing
It has been a long and difficult week for many of us, I think. This was the meal I had originally lined up for last Monday night, but as it turned out we didn’t end up eating in that night. Still, the idea was in my head, the ingredients were in the fridge, and I still wanted to try this recipe out.
I stayed home from work yesterday and had some time to decompress, relax with the cats and get into a better headspace, and I finally felt ready to cook something again by the time the evening rolled around. I wasn’t sure how this would turn out – I love artichokes but I’m still getting the hang of working with them. I’m happy to say this was one experiment that ended well. The slices of artichoke were velvety but still had a bit of bite, the pasta was tender and delicious, and the fresh ricotta we got from Anne was the perfect finishing touch.
Artichoke Tortellini with Artichoke & Lemon Butter
1 lb. artichoke tortelloni (ours was from Bertagni, which is available via FreshDirect and at Garden of Eden)
4 lemons
5 baby artichokes, trimmed and thinly sliced
2 cloves garlic, peeled and smashed
4 tablespoons butter, divided
2 tablespoons olive oil
Kosher salt
1/4 cup chopped fresh flat-leaf parsley
Fresh ricotta
Bring a large pot of water to a boil and add a generous amount of salt.
Cut two of the lemons in half and squeeze their juices into a bowl of water; toss the lemon halves in as well. While the water comes to a boil, trim and slice the baby artichokes and place them into the lemon water.
Melt 2 tablespoons of butter with the olive oil in a skillet. Add the garlic and sauté until golden and fragrant. Using a slotted spoon or spider, remove the sliced artichokes from the water and add to the sauté pan. Add the juice of the remaining two lemons, the remaining two tablespoons of butter, and season with salt.
Add the tortelloni to the boiling water and cook for just a few minutes, until the pasta floats to the top of the pot. Remove the tortelloni using a slotted spoon or spider and add it to the sauce along with a little bit of the starchy pasta water. Add half of the parsley, toss gently, allow to cook for a few more minutes until the sauce is reduced and just coats the pasta. Spoon into shallow bowls and top with a spoonful of ricotta and additional chopped parsley.
Wine Pairing: Artichokes are notoriously difficult to pair wines with, and we are certainly no experts, but I figured we’d give it a shot anyway. We drank a bottle of 2005 Paumanok Sauvignon Blanc with this, a light wine with a lot of zing – the bright citrus notes in the bottle worked really well with the lemony sauce.
I have a short piece on Yakitori in the May 2007 issue of Shojo Beat magazine, on newsstands now.
I have just finished a stretch of very long, difficult workdays. By the time I left the office on Tuesday, I had already logged nearly 30 hours since Sunday, so when I walked in the door yesterday evening, I was beat. I had planned menus for this week knowing that my schedule was going to be unpredictable, and hoping that I would still have the energy to cook, but it hasn’t quite turned out that way. Monday night I had Mike meet me at Moto; he offered to handle dinner on Tuesday, but since I had no idea what time I was going to be home, I told him not to bother, that we’d figure something out when I got in.
We don’t have great dining or takeout options in our immediate area; there’s a Popeye’s and a Dunkin’ Donuts, a crappy pizza place, a few ethnic options which are okay but who close up shop pretty early. Mike had picked up a gorgeous piece of fresh fish on his way home, but I was too mentally tired to decide how to prepare it and to come up with anything to go with it (that fish is on deck for tonight, though). And while we always have a variety of pastas and good things to sauce them with on hand, I didn’t want anything quite that heavy.
I was about ready to just give up and go to bed hungry when I remembered that big batch of chicken stock Mike made on Sunday. We had that, we had a big can of whole fire-roasted tomatoes, we had good bread and we always have a variety of cheeses in the fridge… the answer was right there: grilled cheese sandwiches and tomato soup. It’s one of the ultimate comfort food combinations, and it was exactly what I needed.
Mike directed me to the sofa with a cocktail and I walked him through preparing the soup: first you saute a couple of garlic cloves in a couple of tablespoons of olive oil, add the tomatoes along with their juices and two cups of stock, cover and allow it to simmer away. After five minutes or so, break up the tomatoes with a potato masher, taste and season with salt, pepper and a tablespoon or two of chopped fresh herbs (we used thyme, but basil or parsley are also good), and allow the soup to continue to simmer, uncovered, while you work on the sandwiches.
My favorite grilled cheese is made with a good wholegrain rye, grainy mustard, and 2 or 3 different cheeses (one of which is always a cheddar; also, during tomato season, a slice or two of fresh, ripe tomato is an excellent addition). Melt 3 tablespoons of butter in a pan until bubbling, spread mustard on two slices of bread and lay them in mustard-side up. Layer the thinly sliced cheeses on top of each slice of bread (we used a mixture of Bobolink cave-aged cheddar, Cato Corner Brigid’s Abbey, and Harpersfield Ommegang from Brovetto Dairy). Top each sandwich with the second slice of bread, press and allow to cook until golden on the first side, then gently flip and brown on the second side, adding another tablespoon of butter if needed.
Stir 1/4 cup of heavy cream into the soup off the heat, and ladle it into bowls. Cut the sandwiches in half and serve alongside. Pour a glass of your favorite beverage, put your feet up, and savor.
While the wind and rains whipped through our fair city yesterday, I was not curled up at home with a glass of wine and a lapful of kitties; no, I was on the 52nd floor of a midtown office building, hard at work at The Job That Pays the Bills. Mike offered to take care of dinner, but since he had been editing all day (as well as putting together a batch of brown chicken stock, whose divine aroma greeted me when I walked in the door), I told him that I would handle it. I had something simple planned anyway, and though I was bone-tired, I knew that putting our meal together would do me good. I’ve got more long, busy days ahead of me this week and I don’t know how much time I’ll be spending in the kitchen, but at least I can say I finished last night on a high note.
Ale-Steamed Mussels with Bacon
2 pounds mussels, scrubbed and debearded
4 slices bacon, sliced into thin batons
3 large shallots, sliced
1 1/2 cups Belgian-style Ale (I used Ommegang Abbey Ale)
2 teaspoons Colman’s mustard powder
Place bacon into a hot, heavy bottomed pot and cook over medium heat until well-browned. Add shallots and saute until they are beginning to caramelize. Add ale and mustard and stir well to combine. Add mussels, shake the pan a few times and cover. Allow the mussels to cook several minutes until they are opened; discard any mussels which do not open.
Serve this with plenty of crusty bread or rolls to soak up the rich broth.