Last Night’s Dinner

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.”

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.

Some people find it tedious, but I think there’s something very relaxing about shelling peas. Sitting with a couple of bowls in front of me, paring knife in one hand to nip off the stems, pulling the strings down, then gently prying open the pod and working the little peas out – it’s meditative. We’ve generally got a bag or two of frozen peas in the freezer year-round, but in springtime, when sweet fresh peas hit the market, I can’t get enough of them and I look forward to the shelling.

I whipped up my basic risotto last night, stirring in about a cup and a half of fresh peas and an equal amount of chopped asparagus with the last addition of liquid. I also added the zest of a lemon, but the flavor didn’t pop like I wanted it to, so next time I do this dish (which should be soon – Mike has requested a do-over in a week or two), I will likely add some fresh lemon juice in addition to the zest. A generous grating of salty Pecorino Romano provided a nice counterpoint to the sweet peas and earthy asparagus.

I’m a little alarmed that today is already the last day of May, but I love that we are heading full-speed into summer and all its bounty. Our little garden is flourishing, and while early spring treats are on their way out of season, we’ve got many things to look forward to. I’ll admit that I often feel a bit like I’m cheating when preparing meals this time of year, though. When the raw ingredients I’m working with are so fresh and good, I hate to do too much to them, so my “recipes” become very pared down and cooking is more like assembly.

We enjoyed the first fresh wild Copper River salmon of the year last night, and it was absolutely worth waiting for. Gorgeous to look at and richly flavored, this salmon needs little adornment, so Mike just seasoned it with salt and pepper, rubbed it with a bit of olive oil, and grilled it briefly over hot hardwood coals. Once the salmon came off the grill to rest, I sautéed some chopped spring onions, fiddleheads and cut asparagus in a bit of olive oil, and tossed a salad of butter lettuce and tomato with a goat-cheese and buttermilk vinaigrette. I think it actually took longer for Mike to get the grill going than it did for us to put our meal together, but I’m not going to complain – it just gave us more time to savor our food and enjoy the evening.

Wine Pairing: We usually drink Pinot Noir with our salmon, but when Talitha at Vine Wine was suggesting options for me last night, she was very enthusiastic about this Paumanok Riesling and how it would pair with our meal. It’s always fun to switch things up a bit, and as I’ve mentioned, we are definitely interested in trying as many local wines as possible, so I grabbed a bottle. It was a spot-on recommendation – the wine was crisp and minerally, which cut right through the richness of the salmon.

Ever since we had them at Marlow and Sons last Thursday, I’ve been craving morels. I haven’t been able to find any local ones, though I was able to get some Oregon morels at Whole Foods over the weekend.

We’re still getting beautiful local asparagus, so I decided to pair it with the morels in a rich cream sauce. We had some spinach ravioli in the fridge which I cooked up and tossed with the sauce, but I think the sauce would work just as well with any other fresh pasta.

Asparagus and Morel Cream Sauce

2-3 tablespoons butter
1 large shallot, diced
1/2 cup white wine
1/4 lb. fresh morels
1 cup heavy cream
1-2 tablespoons fresh thyme leaves
12 asparagus spears, trimmed and cut into about 1 inch pieces
1/2 cup crème fraiche
Kosher salt and freshly ground black pepper

Melt the butter in a large sauté pan and add the diced shallot. Season with salt and pepper and allow the shallot to cook until softened. Add the wine and allow it to reduce by half. Add the morels, cream and thyme, season with salt and pepper, and cook over medium heat for 10 minutes. Add the asparagus and cook for another five minutes, until the asparagus is bright green and tender but still a bit crisp. Stir in the crème fraiche until incorporated, adjust the seasoning again if necessary, and add hot cooked pasta. Toss gently and serve, grating a bit of cheese over the top if you like.

We had a rather eventful evening last night which still has me a bit distracted, but I did manage to get a meal on the table: wild Alaskan salmon filets, grilled on cedar planks and basted with a mixture of miso paste, grainy Dijon, a splash of tamari and a little canola oil. To accompany the salmon, I seasoned some asparagus spears with salt and pepper, tossed them with a bit of dark sesame oil, and sealed them in a foil packet; the pouch cooked on the grill as well. Rounding out our meal was a salad of tatsoi leaves tossed in a rice wine vinaigrette. Quick and tasty.

Thick-cut Flying Pigs chops with a shallot pan sauce; roasted asparagus; smashed fingerling potatoes. Yum.

Sunday afternoon sipper: 2006 La Carré du Prieur. Delicious fruity red best drunk with a bit of chill on it.

The first burgers of the season, and they were delicious. I’m playing with my recipe a bit, so expect to see them in fairly heavy rotation over the summer months.

Another stellar recommendation from Dan at Uva - this was absolutely delicious with our burgers.

“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.