Last Night’s Dinner

With Mike and I both working on prep for our Valentine’s Day dinner, I wanted to keep dinner really simple last night. We picked up some beautiful fennel pollen sausage from Violet Hill last weekend, and my original plan was to make a pot of sausage, white bean & kale soup, but I forgot to pre-soak the beans and we didn’t have any canned in the cupboard, so I went for a pasta toss. I removed the sausage from its casings, crumbled it and cooked it down until it was browned, then added a couple of tablespoons of tomato paste, coating the sausage with it and letting it caramelize. I added one head of kale, chopped, to the pan and sautéed it until it was bright green and tender, added salt and a little pasta water, then tossed in my cooked pasta. I added some freshly grated parm off the heat before serving. This was nothing fancy, just a good, hearty meal for a chilly night.

Since the day I watched the presumed-dead-but-very-much-alive Emily Sloane preparing it for dinner in a remote Tuscan villa, ribollita has seemed like a very romantic dish to me. I have a soft spot for peasant-style fare anyway, and what could be cozier than sharing a dish based on beans, bread and hearty greens with your (hopefully not evil) beau?

Maybe it captures my fancy since it isn’t really ribollita until the soup itself is on its third day, reheated or “reboiled” with bread, leading a girl to wonder what distractions led to the soup not getting eaten on day one or two… a little too much wine and canoodling in front of the fire, perhaps?

In any event, when the weather turns cold and I’m looking for ideas for hearty meatless dinners, my thoughts often turn to ribollita, but my soup never quite makes it to that third day. It’s funny how a soup so simple, a mixture of onions, garlic, carrots, celery, parsnips, beans, tomato paste, kale, herbs and water, a combination you wouldn’t think would taste like much, can turn into something so sublime. Sure, a parmesan rind in the soup helps, as does a liberal slather of pesto on top of crusty peasant bread in the bottom of the bowl, but really, the earthy beans and kale are the stars of the show. For such a substantial and hearty soup, it’s amazing how quickly and easily it goes down, dashing my hopes for a proper reboiled version.

Maybe we just need a fireplace.

I wish I could say that I was responsible for the contents of this beautiful plate, but the only thing I did was take pictures and dig in.

Not only did my awesome husband bring home a delightful surprise for me last night, but he didn’t let me lift a finger in the kitchen. He cooked up these gorgeous Flying Pigs chops with pan gravy, smashed sour cream-spiked potatoes, and garlicky Red Russian kale while I relaxed on the sofa with a cocktail and we chatted about our day. It was heavenly.

Have I mentioned lately what a lucky girl I am?

Sometimes I feel like I’m in a bit of a rut as far as our meatless dinners go. It’s so easy to fall back on pastas or my beloved risottos, and while soups are wonderful I just wanted something different yesterday. We had a bunch of kale in the crisper drawer that I wanted to use up, and a can of black eyed peas in the cupboard that I’ve had my eye on for a while, but I still wasn’t quite sure how I wanted to put the two together.

Inspiration came (as it often does) from the pages of the current issue of Diner Journal. As I flipped through, I discovered a recipe for a kale and black eyed pea dish topped with a poached egg, and while I didn’t end up using that specific recipe, it was nice to know that I was on the right track as far as the combination of ingredients goes.

I drained and rinsed my peas, washed and chopped my kale into about 1 inch pieces, and set them both aside. I warmed some olive oil in a pan and added half a red onion, chopped, and a bit of salt. I had a few small potatoes left from last week, so I cut them into small cubes and added them to the pan to brown, seasoning them with salt and pepper. Next came three fat garlic cloves, peeled, smashed and roughly chopped, which I sautéed until fragrant. I added a splash of white vermouth next, along with a teaspoon or so of smoked paprika and a splash of sherry vinegar, and then added the black eyed peas and kale. The whole thing got another pinch of salt and a good stir, then I lidded the pan up and let it cook until the kale wilted, about 15-20 minutes.

When the kale and pea mixture was nearly finished cooking I poached my eggs, cracking each one into a ladle before lowering them into simmering water spiked with a bit of vinegar. I spooned my veggies into shallow bowls, placed an egg on top, and drizzled a little olive oil over them. They got a final topping of freshly ground black pepper, and I nestled a couple of little garlicky toasts into the bowls before serving.

Once again, I ended up with a dish that was a bit lacking in the beauty department, but which had loads of flavor. It was hearty and satisfying, the smoky paprika lending depth, that hit of vinegar brightening the earthy veggies, and the golden yolk of the poached egg enrobing it all in richness

As expected, the hectic pace I’ve been keeping over the last few weeks at the office in in preparation for our party last weekend caught up with me. Wednesday night I got home from work and was too exhausted to do much of anything; dinner that night was a platter of cured meats and cheeses left over from the party, along with cherry tomatoes, crackers, and a very quaffable red Mike brought home. I was still very stiff and achy when I woke yesterday morning, so I stayed home and spent most of the day in bed with the cats watching a fine selection of food shows on the DVR.

I often worry about dinner on sick days, but yesterday, I didn’t have to - I could smell it cooking all day long. Before he left for work in the morning, Mike seasoned a bone-in pork shoulder and put it in the crock pot, bathing it in a mixture of water, applejack, cider vinegar, chopped fresh figs (left over from the party) and chipotles in adobo. The aroma was heavenly.

By the time we were ready to eat, I was feeling well enough to put together a couple of sides - cannellini beans cooked with tomato and fresh sage, and Tuscan kale sauteed with a bit of garlic, chile flakes and lemon zest. The pork was so tender it was falling apart, so I carefully transferred it to a baking sheet and kept it warm in a 200 degree oven while I reduced the strained cooking liquid. I let it bubble away until it was reduced down to about 1/2 cup, whisked in some cold butter and plated everything up. We opened a lovely Sangiovese which highlighted the flavors of both the pork and the figgy pan sauce, and toasted to a great team effort.

Roast pork shoulder with caramelized fennel & onion; mashed potatoes with kale and olive oil. Dietsch cooked; I just plated. And ate. And swooned.