Mike: “Wow. I love your pork burgers but I’m surprised your pork burgers beat this.”

Me: “Dude, I KNOW. Wow.”

And that’s pretty much all you need to know about Mrs. Wheelbarrow‘s pork tenderloin. Make this – you’ll be happy you did.

Warm nights in early June really call for something like a Pimm’s Cup.

It’s a nice thing to sip while you’re prepping tiny matchstick potatoes, and getting a fire ready to grill some burgers made from great local beef.

This night, our beef came from Aquidneck Farm.

Oh, and about those matchstick potatoes?

Be VERY sure you dry them well. Even better than you think you have. (Several rounds of towel drying, after much time in a colander draining. Rub rub rub, dry dry dry.) A pass with a blow-dryer might even be in order. Because they can. not. be. too. dry. before they go into a high-sided pot of very hot oil filled not even 1/3 of the way up. Trust me. I damn near burned the house down.

That said, these might have been worth the new patch of grey hair I sprouted overnight.

My do-over of this dish didn’t work out as well as the first version, so I didn’t end up submitting this to food52‘s “Your Best Eggplant Dish” contest, but since so many people have asked I figured I’d post the recipe here. I used different types of eggplant for the first version and the second, and the larger eggplant in the second version didn’t work out nearly as well in the finished dish.

Go with eggplants like the ones pictured here, in the small-to-medium range and more long than bulbous in shape. Also, keep in mind that a high-acid tomato is going to make the flavor of the chile flakes more pronounced in the Pizzaiola Relish, so choose and season accordingly.

Pizzaiola Relish

1 cup chopped fresh tomato
1 T coarsely grated fresh garlic
½ t dried marjoram or oregano, or 2 T fresh
¼ t red chile flakes (or to taste)
kosher or sea salt
1 T extra virgin olive oil

Eggplant Steaks

1½ to 2 lbs. of eggplant (not too big and seedy – a couple of medium ones will work better than one big one)
kosher or sea salt
2 T balsamic vinegar
4 T extra virgin olive oil
1 tsp. good quality tomato paste (I like the San Marzano paste that comes in tubes or glass jars)
6 oz. fresh mozzarella

In a bowl, combine the chopped tomato, grated garlic, marjoram or oregano, red chile flakes and a generous pinch of salt. Toss to combine, then drizzle in the olive oil and set aside.

Wash the eggplants and trim off the tops. Slice lengthwise into “steaks” about ½- to ¾-inch thick. Salt both sides fairly heavily and place the eggplant slices on a rack for 10-15 minutes. Rinse off the salt and any bitter liquid that has leached out and pat dry.

Combine the balsamic, oil, tomato paste and a pinch of salt in a small jar, screw on the cap and shake until emulsified. Light a grill or pre-heat a grill pan, baste the eggplant slices with the balsamic mixture and grill over high heat for a few minutes per side. Continue basting until the outsides are nicely caramelized.

Remove the eggplant steaks from the heat and place on a baking sheet. Tear the mozzarella into shreds and scatter over the top of the eggplant steaks. Broil until the cheese is browned and bubbly.

Place eggplant on plates (on a bed of young arugula or spinach, if you like) and top with generous spoonfuls of the Pizzaiola Relish.

Recipe coming soon.

It has looked a lot like the Smitten Kitchen here over the last couple of days, with two dinners in a row inspired by Deb’s dishes.

I started on Monday with a potato tortilla, the first I’ve ever attempted at home. I used this recipe as a guide, but I did go the more traditional route of frying my potato slices – creamy beauties from Ledge Ends Produce, sliced thin on a mandoline slicer – low and slow in a good amount of olive oil. I used raw artichokes rather than marinated, since I had picked up some beauties from Wishing Stone Farm over the weekend, and included some of my own marinated grilled red peppers plus a little smoky pimenton.

Mine didn’t come out nearly as pretty as Deb’s did, which I attribute to my choice to use our iron skillet rather than the recommended non-stick, but it still tasted delicious. The last of it made a great breakfast today, too.

Which brings us to the pizza.

Now that Mike has mastered his grilled pizza recipe and technique, it was time to change things up a bit, so for last night’s version we went with the grilled eggplant and olive pie posted here.

Mike made me promise I’d include the phrase “Deb’s a genius” in this post, and how could I not? What a great combination of flavors this was. The grilled eggplant slices were tender and smoky, the olives provided deliciously briny bursts of flavor, and the melty provolone cheese was a winning counterpart to both.

Thanks for the inspiration, Deb!

Before I begin, a disclaimer. I have no freakin’ clue how to grill a pizza using a gas grill. I’ve never tried it and aside from the convenience factor, I’m not a fan of gas grills at all, so I’m sorry, but I can’t provide those instructions here.

The biggest challenge I’ve faced in making grilled pizza is in creating a technique that produces a good, consistent result. The crust should be crisp and light without drying out or getting overly charred. I’ve burned pizzas before, and I’ve messed around with a too-cold grill, on which the dough took seemingly forever to bake up into a crust.

The original method I tried called for these basic steps, which I’ll treat lightly here just to show why this method didn’t work for me.

1. Build a two-stage fire, with coals banked to one side of the grill.
2. Brush oil on the grate on the not-so-hot side of the grill.
3. Place your shaped dough onto the grill, cover the grill, and bake the crust until it firms up.
4. Flip the crust so the grilled side is now up. Brush olive oil on the crust and build your pizza, directly on the grill.
5. Cover the grill and bake the pizza until the cheese melts and begins to brown.
6. Remove pizza from grill.

Most of these steps are very straightforward, but step 4 usually trips me up, especially “build your pizza, directly on the grill.”

When you do that, your crust is continuing to bake, and you’re working directly next to some very hot coals. You have to work fast to build your pizza a) before your crust burns, and b) before all the hairs on your arm singe off. It’s uncomfortable and it’s frustrating. So frustrating in fact that for a month or so last summer, I just stopped grilling pizza. I was Done. But now I have a better method, and all is right again with the world.

Shaping the dough

Before I share that with you, though, I need to rewind because I didn’t address shaping the dough in my doughy post earlier.

Two hours before you plan to shape the dough, remove the dough from the refrigerator. (If you’re working with frozen dough, be sure to give it ample time to thaw. I like at least a day.) Allow the dough to approach room temperature. After two hours have passed, shape the dough. How you do this is really up to you. Peter Reinhart, in The Bread Baker’s Apprentice, describes a technique similar to what you’ve seen in pizza parlors, where you lay the dough across your knuckles and gently stretch it into shape, lightly tossing it into the air as you go. I do that at first, but then frankly, I lay it across a floured surface and use a floured rolling pin to finish.

Regardless of technique, what you’re looking for is a thin dough in which the dough is starting to windowpane. If you hold the dough to the light, you should see light shining through the thinnest portions.

As for shape, think rustic. I don’t even attempt to get a round crust. Mine are roughly elliptical, roughly rectangular.

If counter space is at a premium for you, as it is for us, lay a piece of plastic wrap/clingfilm across the shaped dough. Fold the dough up and set aside.

Assembly instructions

First, prepare your pizza-making mise en place:

1. Using your fingers, shred some fresh mozzarella (or prepare whatever cheese you’re using–gorgonzola, whatever).
2. Pour some olive oil into a small bowl and place a silicon brush nearby.
3. Put your tomato sauce, or sliced/crushed fresh tomatoes, into another bowl.
4. Chiffonade some fresh basil (but leave it inside, in the kitchen).
5. Have some parmigiano or peccorino cheese handy (but leave that inside, too).

Now, the other two things you’ll need? These are so blindingly obvious that I can’t believe I never thought of it before. In fact, I’m virtually certain Jen thought of this and I smacked my head and said, “Of course!”

The other two things you need are a pizza peel and some cornmeal.

To assemble your pie, unfold the rolled-out dough onto a peel onto which you’ve sprinkled cornmeal. Place your bowls of olive oil, tomato sauce, and cheese onto a platter or tray.

Build a fire. We have a 22-inch Weber One Touch charcoal grill. (And let me repeat, I’ve never grilled a pizza over gas, so I have no idea how to provide those sorts of instructions.) I fill a chimney with lump charcoal of various sizes and use Weber paraffin cubes to light the chimney. After the coals are lit and are beginning to ash over, I dump them onto the far side of the grill, to build a two-stage fire. I place the grate on and lid up the grill until the grate heats, about five minutes. Once the grate is hot, if it’s still schumtzy from a previous cook, I take up a ball of foil in my grilling tongs and scrape down the hot grate. Then I replace the lid and let the grate heat up again.

Jen, at this point, brings the tray of topping out, along with the peel o’ dough, and places everything onto an outdoor table. I remove the grill lid and oil the cooler side of the grate, using the silicon brush. With the exact motion I use to slide dough onto a pizza stone in the oven, I shimmy the dough onto the oiled grate and lid up the grill. It’s important to stress, this is untopped dough. You’re basically parbaking the crust at this moment.

(You can see here that I’m making two pizzas; I find that two smaller pies are easier to work with than one larger. It does mean rotating the dough around the grill a little to ensure that each crust bakes evenly.)

Leave the peel handy on the table; you’ll need it again shortly. (You might keep cornmeal on hand if you need to sprinkle more onto the peel.) Check on your crust every minute or so. You’ll know when it’s crisp enough to remove–this usually takes no more than five minutes.

Now, this part is tricky. Using two pairs of tongs (and having a partner standing by with the peel), remove the crust from the grill and place it grilled side up on the peel. Lid up the grill again so the grate reheats.

Build the pizza on the peel, on the table. Don’t overdo the toppings! Less is more with grilled pizza. Lightly brush some oil onto the crust, but not too much. Spoon on tomato sauce in a thin layer. Finally, dot the surface with cheese. Lightly oil the grate again, and then shimmy the pie carefully onto the grill. Lid up.

You want to cook until the cheese starts to bubble; it’s hard to give you a precise time. It depends on your grill, your charcoal, the alignment of Mars, how the Mets are doing, etc. Because you’ve parbaked the crust, you’re far less concerned with what the crust is doing, and more interested in the toppings. Just don’t let the crust burn. If the bit that’s closest to the fire is starting to char, you might use tongs and gently rotate the pie. When the pizza’s done, you’ll need a friend handy again to help you remove the pizza off onto the peel.

Sprinkle basil on, lightly, and grate the parm or peccorino over the top. Slice and enjoy!

Hey! We’re double-teaming you today. Hope you don’t get sick of us.

I swear you’re all going to think I do nothing but ape Mario Batali, but I have to admit, my sauce recipe, which is Jen’s favorite of all I’ve tried, is also my riff on a Molto Mario joint. Let me tell you something, though: I don’t always sauce my pizzas. Sometimes I just use fresh tomatoes, sliced, and sometimes I use crushed canned tomatoes. It’s just all about the mood I’m in.

This recipe makes about 2 cups/1 pint of sauce, enough sauce for a couple of large-ish rustic pies–I’d say about a foot long and 6-8 inches wide–or four smaller pies, or eight tiny pies, or … well, you get the idea.

1 tbsp. extra-virgin olive oil
1 tennis ball-sized onion, peeled and diced
2 cloves fresh garlic, peeled and sliced
2 tbsp. shredded carrot
1-1/2 tbsp. chopped fresh thyme
One 28 oz. can of whole peeled San Marzano tomatoes, crushed with your hands*
¼ cup dry red wine
salt, to taste

In a medium saucepan, heat olive oil over medium heat. Add onions and a pinch of salt. Sauté onions until soft and golden and then stir in garlic. Cook garlic until soft. Add carrot and thyme and cook until the carrot is soft.

Add tomatoes (along with their juice) and wine. Lower the heat and cook until the sauce is thick, seasoning to taste as you go. It’ll take about half an hour to thicken up appropriately.

*Obviously, you could also buy crushed tomatoes. Or if you’re lucky enough to get sauce tomatoes from your own garden or farmer’s market, use those. Just don’t tell me because I’ll hate you.

I knew I had put off the grilled pizza write-up long enough already when I was at a rooftop party in downtown Providence Sunday evening, and a writer friend of mine started gently needling me about it. Thanks for the kick in the pants, Jan.

I’m going to do this in installments, if that’s okay. I’ll be including recipes and photos, and if I put it all in one single post, it would just be too damn long, so screw that.

Let’s start with the pizza dough. The crust is a crucial element of a great pizza; it’s the base, so you want it to be good. This dough is my current favorite; it’s easy to make, and I love how it tastes. I want to continue tinkering with it, though, trying to make it more better, but this is the latest.

You’ll need to plan in advance for this: I like to allow my dough to rise overnight. As baking guru Peter Reinhart writes in The Bread Baker’s Apprentice:

[Overnight fermentation] gives the enzymes time to go to work, pulling out subtle flavors trapped in the starch. The long rest also relaxes the gluten, allowing you to shape the dough easily, minimizing the elastic springiness that so often forces you to squeeze out all the gas.

If the thought of squeezing out the gas makes you giggle like a child, you’re not alone.

My recipe is adapted from Mario Batali’s Italian Grill, and my technique includes instructions for using a Kitchenaid stand mixer to mix and knead the dough.

3 cups all-purpose flour*
1 pkg active dry yeast
1 cup warm water
1 tbsp. salt
2 tbsp. olive oil
1 tbsp. sugar
¼ cup white wine or dry vermouth (at room temp)

*As with all bread baking, you may have to adjust this, depending on humidity level. I normally use King Arthur organic unbleached AP flour, or a roughly 50-50 blend of AP and Kenyon’s stone-ground whole wheat flour. Reinhart, however, recommends you use no more than 10% whole-wheat or rye to substitute for an equal quantity of white flour. This is exactly the kind of thing I want to play with next time around.

Dissolve yeast in warm water in the warmed bowl of a stand mixer. Add salt, sugar, olive oil, wine or vermouth, and half of the flour. Attach bowl and dough hook to mixer. Turn to speed 2 and mix about 1 minute.

Continuing on speed 2, add remaining flour, 1/2 cup at a time, and mix until dough clings to hook and pulls away from sides of bowl. Knead on speed 2 for another 2 minutes.

At this point, you can divide the dough and freeze some of it for later use, or you can prepare it all for tomorrow’s pizza. I take whatever quantity I’m planning to use and put it in an oiled bowl, covered with plastic wrap. I place that in the fridge overnight. (It will keep in the fridge for up to 3 days.)

On the day I’m making the pizza, I remove the dough from the fridge two hours before making the pizza. I’ll address what comes next when I get to the post on building the pizza.

My weekend got off to a less-than-auspicious start, owing to train delays and missed connections. We had planned to meet friends for Indian food and an 8:30 showing of Food, Inc. at the Avon, but by the time I finally got home, it was late and I was in no mood. Enter Mike to the rescue, chilled Martini in hand. We had takeout.

The rest of the weekend shaped up much better than I could have imagined, with the arrival of many things we’ve been waiting for – the first of the season peaches, squash blossoms, and probably most exciting of all:

Yes, it’s a chicken. But this is no ordinary bird. Pat told us a while back that, in addition to his usual tasty chickens, he was raising a heritage breed called the Poulet Rouge. They were finally available at the Hope Street farmers’ market on Saturday, and we were thrilled to bring one home.

Kathleen Purvis has a good primer in Gourmet on what makes these birds different than your standard breeds, so if you’re curious you can read about it there; I’m here to tell you that as far as the flavor goes, we were wowed.

We wanted to keep the prep and cooking as simple as possible so we could really taste the difference, so Mike just salted it, cut it “leaping frog” style, and grilled it. I made one of my favorite grilled bread salads to go alongside, with peaches, basil and a balsamic vinaigrette. The chicken was the star, though – intensely flavorful, rich and juicy, noticeably moreso than regular varieties. I expect a Poulet Rouge would hold up really well in the smoker, and we’re both itching to try coq au vin or riesling with one of these birds when cooler weather rolls around. Try one – you’ll be hooked.

And then there was Sunday. A big cooking day.

Behold: grilled pizza perfection. Post will be up this week.

A little muddled basil made our gin & tonics extra tasty.

It’s just not summer until I’ve made fried squash blossoms. I still make mine the way Derrick instructed, dipping the stuffed blossoms in flour, then buttermilk, then flour again, and while this is still my go-to breading method, I have my eye on Anita’s version.

This time, however, I served the squash blossoms with some sliced heirloom tomatoes, a chilled basil custard, and a scattering of arugula and opal basil leaves. Did I mention I like colorful plates?

Speaking of color, our pre-dinner cocktail was as delicious as it was bright and beautiful. Who knew tequila and Campari would marry so well?

The grand finale, and grand it was. We grabbed the last piece of Summer Snow from Matt‘s table at the farmers’ market, and he recommended pairing it with gooseberries. We grabbed some from City Farm, and finished out our weekend with this cheese and fruit course. It was pretty damn brilliant.

(As always, click the photos for a little more detail.)

Mike and I have been big fans of the cheese, breads and pastured meats from Bobolink farm and dairy since we first tasted them in New York, and luckily for us, they do mail order. So every so often, we treat ourselves with a shipment of not-so-local goodies, and our most recent indulgence was in the form of some of their excellent suckled veal. Our box arrived on Wednesday, and Mike immediately pulled out a package of rib chops, thawed them in a water bath, then put them in a marinade. On Thursday night, he fired up the grill and cooked them up for our dinner.

While these chops are fabulous on their own, I wanted to add a little bit of flare to the plate. A pan sauce was out, since we cooked the chops outdoors, and I was worried that one of the more assertive salsas or sauces I sometimes put together would overwhelm the meat. So while Mike prepped the grill, I took a look at what we had in the pantry and decided to try my hand at a quick currant pickle. The brine had lots of mustard seeds, some juniper and fennel, and a mix of sherry and champagne vinegars in addition to the usual salt, sugar and water. I brought it to a boil and poured it over half a cup of dried Zante currants, then let them sit and steep until we were ready to eat.

The pickled currants were tasty, with a nice balance of tart-to-sweet, and they complemented the grilled veal really nicely, though I think the next time I make them I’ll bump up the salt and mustard just a bit. I’d still call this batch a success, and something I’ll definitely play with again – I can see them partnering well with other grilled meats, and it’s nice to have a variety of accompaniments in my arsenal to add a little bit of pop to an otherwise simple grilled dinner.