The Broad Fork

We have posted a lot about Hugh Acheson’s The Broad Fork on our Facebook page, but it seems time to write about the book here. So here goes.  The Broad Fork grew out of a conversation with a fellow CSA member who asked a simple question: “What the hell do I do with kohlrabi?”

Indeed.  We learn to cook because someone taught us how, and we cook foods that we are familiar with, and if not, we learn to cook foods that we like and want to make at home.  So, what the hell does one do with kohlrabi?  

Our “what the hell” is artichokes. Don’t have them in the garden, don’t like to clean them, don’t like to eat them, don’t want them in my CSA!  Hey everyone has a veggie they hate!  Truth of the matter is, there are tons of vegetables out there that have very creative uses without boiling them in some salted water and slathering them with butter.

Hugh Acheson sets out to give the reader a look at many creative ways to showcase vegetables or a showcase for many creative vegetables.  The book is helpful, insightful, and never makes you feel like you are getting a lecture about not eating more vegetables.  He is funny, giving the impression that he would never come into your to kitchen and shout obscenities at you for minor kitchen infractions. In fact, he writes like he is exactly the kind of person you would want to let into your kitchen. 

Acheson would, as he does in this cookbook, make fun of you for having a refrigerator door with, “stuff in there from the 1990’s.”  For his Tatsoi Salad he will tell you, “No tatsoi? No problem. Use spinach or bok choy.”  But he will also tell you that tatsoi is “resplendent” so get some for your salads.  The first restaurant he worked in featured fried zucchini with, “the tenderness and attention to detail of a drunken sailor,” and from that experience he fries up green beans. Funny and helpful.

So how does Hugh Acheson answer the question: “What the hell do I do with kohlrabi?” 

Kohlrabi Puree

2 tablespoons unsalted butter

1/2 yellow onion, diced

1 pound kohlrabi, peeled and chopped, greens and stems reserved for garnish

1 1/2 cups chicken stock

1 sprig fresh thyme

Kosher salt

1. In a medium saucepan over low heat, melt 1 tablespoon of the butter.  Add the onion and then the kohlrabi. Cook for 2 minutes, stirring the vegetables to coat them with the butter. Then add the chicken stock and the thyme sprig. Bring to a boil over medium-high heat then turn back down to simmer.  Place a round of parchment paper on top of the mixture, and simmer until the kohlrabi is tender, about 15 minutes. Remove from the heat and let cool slightly.

2. Transfer the mixture to a blender, add the remaining tablespoon of butter, and puree until smooth. Season with kosher salt to taste. Serve alongside finely sliced reserved kohlrabi stems and greens.

Pureed kohlrabi is the perfect side dish for a big ol’ steak, not to mention at least two folks at the table will ask you,  “What the hell did you do to the potatoes?”

Vegetable Literacy

After a football induced weekend of ribs and wings, my friend, Ann, called to say she was eating a salad of quinoa, chickpeas, kale and other vegetables too numerous to mention.  Then she said she thought she might be becoming a vegetarian.  I scoffed.  But I did start to think about the vegetable.

So everyone is foaming about Deborah Madison's new book, Vegetable Literacy.  Saying something bad about a Deborah Madison book is like saying Virgina Woolf can't write.  Don't get me wrong, I have nothing bad to say about the book.  If there is anything bad to say about the book it is that the book is a bit overwhelming.  It is not so much a cookbook as the Encyclopedia Britannica (Wikipedia for you folks under 25!) of Vegetable knowledge. 

There are recipes for onions but not before a thorough plant taxonomy.  Can one have their knotweed and nightshades too?  Carrots yes, but one really should eat the tops, too.  How the hell does one cook a cardoon?  What is a cardoon?  Why would one eat it?  Well, Madison has a recipe for that.

We tend to judge vegetable related works by the rutabaga recipes.  Madison doesn't disappoint with three.  Though she does seem to have a thing for peas.  The recipes in the book do, indeed, make the vegetables shine. Speaking of peas...  Don't go to the freezer.  If you want some mushy peas to slap next to fries, be my guest.  Want to cook peas with Deborah Madison you will need the real deal.   Even Madison's peas are a thing of beauty.

 Peas with Baked Ricotta 
and Bread Crumbs

Olive oil
1 cup high-quality ricotta cheese, such as hand-dipped 
full-fat ricotta
2 to 3 tablespoons fresh bread crumbs
4 teaspoons butter
2 large shallots or 1/2 small onion, finely diced (about 1/3 cup)
5 small sage leaves, minced (about 1-1/2 teaspoons)
1-1/2 pounds pod peas, shucked (about 1 cup)
Grated zest of 1 lemon
Sea salt and freshly ground pepper
Chunk of Parmesan cheese, for grating

Heat the oven to 375 degree F. Lightly oil a small baking dish; a round Spanish earthenware dish about 6 inches across is perfect for this amount.

 If your ricotta is wet and milky, drain it first by putting it in a colander and pressing out the excess liquid. Pack the ricotta into the dish, drizzle a little olive oil over the surface, and bake 20 minutes or until the cheese has begun to set and brown on top. Cover the surface with the bread crumbs and continue to bake until the bread crumbs are browned and crisp, another 10 minutes. (The amount of time it takes for ricotta cheese to bake until set can vary tremendously, so it may well take longer than the times given here, especially if it wasn’t drained.)

When the cheese is finished baking, heat the butter in a small skillet over medium heat. When the butter foams, add the shallots and sage and cook until softened, about 3 minutes. Add the peas, 1/2 cup water, and the lemon zest. Simmer until the peas are bright green and tender; the time will vary, but it should be 3 to 5 minutes. Whatever you do, don’t let them turn gray. Season with salt and a little freshly ground pepper, not too much.
 
 Divide the ricotta between 2 plates. Spoon the peas over the cheese. Grate some Parmesan over all and enjoy while warm.

We might just improve this recipe with a rib eye on the side.

While we might eat our Peas with Baked Ricotta 
and Bread Crumbs with a rib eye, as a gardener, Vegetable Literacy is a joy.  The more ideas for garden produce, the better.  We are already anticipating our spring seed catalogues.

The French Country Table

 Face it.  We will read any French cookbook out there.  It is a sickness. An addiction.  We love it and that is that.  By now, the biggest differentiation between French cookbooks is the photographs. 

Ryland, Peters and Small, always a favorite publisher for cookbooks, publish the French Country Table.   They understand the value of photos, good recipes and basic bookbinding.  The thick muted paper has an old-fashioned feel and is the perfect vehicle for a country cookbook. 

Writer Laura Washburn has taken many of the familiar French dishes and given them a bit of twist.   There is a roasted chicken, but with guinea fowl.  There is a gratin with macaroni (yes, it is just a macaroni and cheese).  The clafoutis is rhubarb instead of cherries.

The pictures are lovely.  It is no wonder that Martin Brigdale has won numerous awards on three continents for his food photography.  The photos show the food at its best!  

 Your carrots should look like the above left carrots, especially if you procured them from one the vegetable vendors pictured!

Carrots with cream and herbs.

2 lbs. mini carrots, trimmed, of medium carrots

3 tablespoons unsalted butter

a sprig of thyme

2 tablespoons crème fraise or sour cream

several sprig of chervil, snipped

a small bunch of chives, snipped

fine sea salt

If using large carrots, cut them diagonally into 2-inch slices.  Put in a large saucepan (the carrots should fit in a single layer for even cooking.) Add the butter and set over low heat.  Cook for three minutes, until the butter has melted and coated the carrots.  Half fill the saucepan with water, then add a pinch of salt and the thyme.  Cover and cook for 10 – 20 minutes, until the water is almost completely evaporated.

Stir in the crème fraise and add salt to taste.  Sprinkle the chervil and chives over the top, mix well and serve.

If you have ever passed one of those sad bags of “baby” carrots in vegetable section, now you have a great idea of what to do with them.  Whip up these carrots in cream and you, too, can transport yourself to the French countryside.

The Mistress Cook

In 1867 Mrs. Beeton wrote the following:

“Men are now so well served out of doors – at clubs, hotels and restaurants – that, to compete with the attraction of these places, a mistress must be thoroughly acquainted with the theory and practice of cookery, as well as all the other arts of making and keeping a comfortable home.”

Peter Gray’s “mistress” is the 1950’s mistress of the house and not of merely the bedroom.  Peter Gray was indeed a “mistress” of all trades.  He became enamored of the culinary when he was a boy spending time in Paris.  He would eventually become a professor of Biological Science at the University of Pittsburgh.   Along the way he was a printer, bookbinder, gem cutter, fisherman and photographer.

In The Mistress Cook, Gray brought together a thousand recipes from twelve countries over six centuries.  The recipes are at once simple and familiar as well as exotic and complex.    There is an extended chapter at the end of the book devoted to spices and spice mixes.  There is a chapter full of sauces and stocks devoted to major and minor sauces. 

It is a book written in the 1950’s, so there are no lists of exact ingredients.  There are two pages of instruction for puff pastry.  According to Gray, the best way to learn to make puff pastry is the to do it over and over.  One does not become tennis pro by reading about tennis.  Go ahead and buy puff pastry.

This book is an excellent overview of the history of cooking and cooking techniques.  It is indeed what Gray set out to do, provide a vast collection of recipes over continents and time periods.  One would be best served to find a recipe and search out a modern recipe.

Here is a recipe for a favorite Southern fare – collards.

Collards

I am told by an elderly Southern gentleman of my acquaintance, that this leather-leaved survivor of the past can be rendered edible by boiling it for a week with fat pork.

Seriously, collards only need about 8 hours to cook!

Here is another recipe featuring my favorite cauliflower with the regal name, Crème du Barry. 

Crème du Barry

Cook a small cauliflower in slated water until it can conveniently be divided into florets.  Mix the florets with an equal volume of grated potatoes and a quarter of their volume of grated onion.  Put this mixture in a pan, cover it liberally with milk, and simmer until the vegetables are sludged.  Put it through a sieve or food mill.

Don’t you just love a recipe that has “sludged” vegetables?   Though not that appetizing, sludged is the perfect description for what these vegetables will look like when simmered.  There is not a cookbook publisher out there who would let an author describe veggies as "sludged" and yet it is spot on.

A Girl and Her Pig

We couldn't wait till April Bloomfield's book came out.  When we heard she was writing a cookbook, we haunted Amazon until it got a publication date, then we kept waiting.  When the cover surfaced, we knew this would be a keeper.  (Ironically, the book has been trashed on Amazon BECAUSE of the cover.  It seems people are outraged about the pig.  Seriously, people, where do you think pork comes from if not the pig and no one is out there condemning every single barbecue book out there.  So pork is OK as long as we don't have to see where it comes from?  How stupid...but I digress...)

Bloomfiled was trained by Rose Gray and Ruth Rogers of the famed River Cafe.  They are famous for their "simple" fare.   The irony is some of their most famous dishes are way complicated.   That may be the mantra for Bloomfiled's book.  In an attempt to make her "simple" food accessible to the general public the direction are beyond complicated.   Her summer Tomato Soup consists of tomatoes and olive oil with some salt, garlic and basil.  There are two pages of directions.  You can only guess how long the recipe for her Beef and Bayley Hazen Pie is... four pages, not counting the page with the picture of the pie.  The thing is, in 2010, the Australian magazine, Gourmet Traveller published Bloomfiled's recipe for Beef, Stilton and Suet Pie (basically an identical recipe) without all the pomp and circumstance. 

The recipes in this book are fantastic, don't let this (or the vegan marauders at Amazon derail you from getting this book), but be forewarned.   When you look at the directions to any recipe, take a moment to breath.  The directions feature all of Bloomfield's attention to exacting detail extrapolated.

Roasted vegetables are a favorite.  Carrots, parsnips, fennel with some olive oil, garlic and salt.   In this book it is rocket science.  In fact the following recipe is from a magazine and not from her book.  Slightly different amounts, and far less instruction... and this recipe has a lot of instruction for roasted veg...

Roasted Veg

4 large fennel bulbs, outer layer removed, stalks discarded, and fronds reserved
4 small skin-on red onions, roots trimmed but ends intact, halved lengthwise
4 medium parsnips, peeled, topped, and tailed
6 medium carrots, peeled, topped, and tailed
1/2–3/4 cup extra-virgin olive oil
14 skin-on garlic cloves, separated
Maldon salt

 Preheat the oven to 350 degrees. Trim the root end of the fennel, removing any brown bits but keeping the end intact. Halve the fennel bulbs lengthwise. Ideally, the parsnips and carrots will be about the same size, but if the top portion is much thicker than the others, lop off this portion and halve it lengthwise.

Heat half the oil in a large heavy-bottomed sauté pan set over high heat until it’s hot—rippling, crackling, and smoking a little—about 5 minutes. Carefully add half the vegetables, with the cut sides of the onion and fennel facing downward, and let them sizzle. As they slowly brown, you’ll smell the sweetness as the vegetables’ sugars emerge. Once the undersides are golden brown (about 10 minutes), transfer the vegetables, brown side up, to a large heavy-bottomed roasting pan. Repeat with the remaining oil and vegetables.

Sprinkle plenty of Maldon salt over the vegetables in the roasting pan, crushing it between your fingers. Don’t stir, because you don’t want the vegetables to lose the salt. Scatter the garlic within the pan, and pop it into the oven.

Cook the vegetables, gently turning them over occasionally. Continue cooking until you can easily slide a knife into and out of the vegetables (40 to 50 minutes). You’re not aiming for crispy vegetables.

Arrange the vegetables and garlic on a large platter, then spoon on some of the sweet oil left in the pan. Sprinkle on a handful of chopped fennel fronds, and a little more salt, if you fancy it.

April Bloomfiled's stories about her life and food are wonderful.  The photo's are great.   The instructions are EXACTING and we mean exacting.   Which is nice if you are reading a cookbook.  To cook from this book, read the recipe, read it again and then just cook.

Palmer House Cook Book

Ernest Amiet was a classically trained chef who trained in France, Switzerland and England before landing in Chicago at the Palmer House.

The Palmer House is still in existence in Chicago. The first version, was built as a wedding present for his bride by Potter Palmer. Thirteen days later, it burned to the ground in the Great Chicago Fire. Which does not sit well with the superstitious. Undaunted, Palmer signed a slip of paper and was granted a loan of over a million and a half dollars (which some believe to be the largest signature loan secured during 1871) and set out to rebuild it.

When Chef Amiet arrived he set out to bring the finest dining experience to the hotel's visitors. He was a big success and received literally thousands of requests for recipes for dishes served at the Palmer House. Finally, he decided to write a cook book because,

“During the past fifteen years I have kept a careful record of the requests for recipes by patrons of the dining room…this book is made up of theses dishes.

Home cooking is altogether different from the wholesale method used in a large hotel. Therefore, I evolved a plan whereby even beginners could produce my restaurant dishes in the kitchens of their own homes.”

Published in 1940, the Palmer House Cook Book offers up over a thousand recipes. The first half of the book offers up breakfast, luncheon and dinner menus and recipes to follow. In the second part, a series of basic recipes for cakes, sauces, meats and hors d'oeuvre are listed. Unlike many cook books from this era; the Palmer House Cook Book features many pictures to illustrate its food. As one might expect, photo’s of food from nearly 75 years ago can be a bit challenging.

While the cream pie holds up, the boiled chicken and potatoes looks a bit dated.

Who would order boiled chicken in a restaurant?

The recipe titles are quite grandiose and offer a look into the mind of a chef – or perhaps a hotel staff bringing “the Continent” to the middle of America. The pairings often seem to have nothing to do with one another.

Boiled Fresh Ox Tongue Polonaise served with Noodles Countessa.

Breast of Guinea Hen General Grant and a Siberian Coupe for dessert.

Bisque Idaho and Batavia Mutton Curry.

Here is a little vegetable dish for the family tables.

Spinach Mussolini

Six ounces of spinach well drained, 2 slices of bacon cut in strips, 4 thin slices of cucumber, 2 tablespoonfuls of butter, salt and pepper to taste.

Slightly sauté the bacon, add the cucumbers, cook for a second and then add the spinach, butter, salt and pepper, stir slightly and cook for a few minutes and serve.

Now ask yourself, when is the last time you had Spinach Mussolini, so cook some up for the family.

The Beekman 1802 Heirloom Cookbook

Well, we think the Fabulous Beekman Boys, Dr. Brent Ridge and Josh Kilmer-Purcell, are famous and just getting more famous and fabulous as the days march on. (Though we are not sure they could get any more fabulous.) We would like to take some credit for their success and why shouldn't we. We were in their camp and encouraging everyone to buy their book and take a gander at their television show before it ever aired and long before they graced made the pages of Food & Wine.




Since our blog, Cookbook Of The Day, is simply enamored of cookbooks we were beside ourselves when we found out that a Beekman Boys cookbook was in the works. It went immediately on our pre-order list and it arrived last week. Let me tell you that it was worth the wait. For those of you who watched every episode of the Fabulous Beekman Boys, you know there was controversy over the title of the cookbook which was resolved in Dr. Brent's favor. You will also remember the preliminary photo shoot for the cookbook. If you saw that, you know that ever detail was meticulously thought out and shot and re-shot until it had the Beekman stamp of approval. Needless to say, the picture of the food by Paulette Tavormina are works of art.



The recipes are bright and homey. There is a good mix of things you have heard of, like fried green tomatoes and roast leg of lamb and interesting twists. The Harvest Beef Chili not only has beans but nice big chinks of pumpkin, which we find to terribly underused. We are big fans of augmenting the plain mashed potato and this recipe is a fine way to do just that.

Sorrel Mashed Potatoes

1 1/2 pounds of baking potatoes, peeled and sliced
4 tablespoons (1/2 stick) unsalted butter
3 bunches of sorrel(about 2 ounces each), tough ends trimmed, leaves torn
3/4 cup milk
3/4 teaspoon salt

In a medium saucepan, combine the potatoes with salt water to cover. Bring to a boil, reduce and simmer, and cook until the potatoes are fork tender. Drain and return to the pan.

Meanwhile, in a medium skillet, melt 2 tablespoons of the butter over low heat. Add the sorrel and cook, stirring occasionally, until it is very tender and soft, about 4 minutes.

With a potato masher or a handheld mixer, mash the potatoes with the milk, salt, and remaining two tablespoons of butter, Stir in the melted sorrel and serve.

While The Beekman Boys might live way up there in New York, their cookbook has a gentle Southern vibe mixing rustic fare with recipes that offer a nice addition to Sunday Dinner.

If there was an element we were not overly enamoured of, it would be the keepsake addition of removable cards allowing the reader to make the cookbook, "their own." Seriously, Dr.Brent, you know that people will scribbling notes in their ratty old handwriting and stuffing in articles and before you know it that nice The Beekman 1802 Heirloom Cookbook is going to be a mess. But then...

...they could always buy another copy.

Cold Dishes For Hot Weather

It seems that EVERYONE is talking about the weather. It seems funny that during this horrible "hot" spell, no one is raising the issue of global warming. It is 104 in Washington, D. C.! So it seems time to pull out this little gem, Cold Dishes For Hot Weather. As with the weather, many of these dishes are libel to end up "hot" or at the very least lukewarm before they can be served.

this book was written in 1896 and it features many a simple and straightforward offering.

Egg-Plant Salad

boil the egg-plant until cooked; peel and cut into small pieces; add the juice of a lemon , 1 tablespoon of oil. Mix well and serve.

Simple and to the point.

This book loves "patties" for cold dishes and offers this time saving advice:

The cost and trouble of making patty-cases is such that it is far preferable to buy them at the caterers'; especially is it desirable as when the cook will run the risk of spoiling the paste. Pie pastry is not so easily spoiled as patty of puff paste, and as this is not obtainable, the cook will have to tempt fate and try her own skill at making it herself.

And then... the reader receives absolutely no information on making one's own puff pastry or pie pastry for that matter. It is obvious that the cook is obliged to buy those puff pastry cases and be done with it. After you buy yourself some pie crust you are instructed to make pies like this one...

Cheshire Pork Pie

Skin a loin of pork; cut into small steaks; season with salt, nutmeg, and pepper. Make a pie-crust, and fill with a layer of pork, then one of apples, pared and cored, and sugar enough to sweeten it, then another layer of pork; pour over half a pint of white wine, and cover all with a little butter before covering the pie.

OK, that is all the instruction provided. One assumes the pie must now be cooked. Since it has chunks of pork and raw apples, one would think it might just need to be cooked for quite some time. Since it is 1896 and most stoves are still wood-fired, I'm going out a limb here and saying that this "cold" dish is going to seriously heat up my house. My "hot weather" is going to be blazing hot in my house! But the time this pie cools down it may well be tomorrow! I believe that Cheshire Pork Pie should therefore be a 'Hot Dish for Cold Weather."

I'm headed back to the air-conditioning with a Dove Bar.

Maple Syrup Cookbook

It might just surprise you to learn that the state tree of West Virginia is the Acer saccarum. But we just call it the Sugar Maple. They call it the Sugar Maple in Vermont, too, but we had it first, on 7 March 1949. Three days later those johnny-come-latelies in Vermont adopted the Sugar Maple.*

My neighbors Have quite the maple sugar factory, tapping many trees on their property and boiling up some excellent syrup. Recently, Sandi, added a volume to my cookbook collection, Maple Syrup Cookbook by Ken Haedrich. The book is filled with maple history, maple tips, and maple lore along with a bunch of recipes. Probably the best information in the cookbook is the simplest one -- how does one substitute the syrup of sugar in general recipes. He states that one measure of sugar requires only 3/4 of a measure of maple syrup. Baking is a bit more complicated.

As you might have guessed, many of the recipes in this cookbook have a autumnal feel to them, like skillet cake, brad pudding, four-bean bake and curried soup. My favorite recipe is a variation on my favorite way to cook root vegetables -- veggies, salt and pepper, butter, syrup and a dash of liqueur. I have an old bottle of maple liqueur someone brought me from Vermont. Its only use is added to vegetables cooked in maple syrup.
But if you don;t have any, by all means, use bourbon!

Maple-Roasted Root Vegetables

3 medium carrots, peeled and cut into 1 1/4-inch chunks
3 medium parsnips, peeled and cut into 1 1/4-inch chunks
1 small ( 1/2-pound) yellow turnip, peeled and cut into 1 1/4-inch chunks
4 tablespoons butter
1/2 cup maple syrup
1/4 cup bourbon or rum
1 1/2 teaspoons kosher salt
Freshly ground black pepper

1. Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Arrange the carrots, parsnips and turnips in a single layer in a shallow roasting pan.

2. Heat the butter and maple syrup in a small saucepan just until the butter is melted, about 2 minutes. Remove from heat. Stir in the rum.

3. Pour the maple mixture over the vegetables, and toss to coat. Sprinkle the vegetables with salt and pepper to taste.

4. Cover the pan with aluminum foil and bake for 25 minutes. Remove the pan from the oven, stir the vegetables and bake, uncovered, until tender, 20 to 25 minutes longer.

Vermont -- eat your heart out, or your vegetables.


* to be fair, Wisconsin picked the Sugar Maple in 1893, with New York coming in way behind by naming the Sugar Maple its state tree in 1956.

Edible

One day Tracey Ryder and Carole Topalian compiled a little newsletter about food in Ojai. They dubbed it Edible Ojai and for a couple of years they toiled in not quite obscurity. Noticed by Saveur, Edible Ojai was featured in their top 100 for 2004. In the tiny blurb, the authors expressed a desire for their concept to, “crop up everywhere.” Be careful what you wish for!

Over the next few years about 60 local “edibles” sprang up; from Ojai to Boston, from Portland to Orlando and my closest -- Edible Allegheny.


It was only natural to envision a cookbook culled from all those “edible” editions celebrating local foods, farmers and artisans. Actually, like most of their publications, Edible is more than a cookbook, it is a hymn to those local individuals who have dedicated their lives to producing, maintaining, and promoting local foods.


Here’s a recipe from Edible Memphis.

Collard Tops with Parmigiano

1 bunch (about 1 1/4 pounds) collard tops or broccoli rabe (including flowers and stems), coarsely chopped
2 tablespoons unsalted butter
1 clove garlic, thinly sliced
1/2 cup heavy cream or half-and-half
1/2 cup freshly grated Parmigiano-Reggiano
1/2 teaspoon kosher salt
1/4 teaspoon freshly ground pepper

Preheat the oven to 350 f. Have a large bowl of ice water ready. In a large saucepan of boiling salted water, blanch (partially cook) the collards until bright green and slightly tender, about 2 minutes. In a colander, drain the collards, then plunge the greens into the ice water. Drain well and squeeze dry; set aside.


In the same saucepan, melt the butter over medium-low heat. Add the garlic and cook until it is tender but not browned, about 2 minutes. Stir in the cream. Increase the heat to medium-high and cook until slightly thickened, 1 to 2 minutes.

Lightly grease a 1-quart casserole pan. In a medium bowl, combine the collards, cream mixture, cheese, salt, and pepper. Spread the mixture evenly into the baking pan. Cover with the lid or foil and bake until the cheese is melted, 15 to 20 minutes. Serve immediately.

For someone who always saw collards cooked for at least 2 hours, this is a great way to cook them quickly.

Check out the Edible Communications web site to find an Edible publication in your area. If there isn’t one… you know you always wanted to be magazine publisher!

X-treme Cuisine

After some foofy cookbooks last week, we thought we offer up the flip side today with Robert Earl's X-treme Cuisine. Gone are the tailgating and wedding brunches...here we have hang gliding, skateboarding and surfing. The tenor of this book is 14-year-old-boy. There is a fair amount of bodily function info, enough to leave an 8th-grade football team more obnoxious than ever. This is not the kind of extreme cuisine that involves eating warthog or live grubs, this is x-treme in that X-Games way. The X's are the tip off.

To Robert Earls' credit, he does try valiantly to introduce elements of fine dining into his tome. He has lovely diagrams for setting a table and offers a Q & A as to why there are two different forks. (One for meat and one for vegetables was a plausible answer.)

He shows our x-treme sports junkie a couple of napkin folds.

And if you need to throw a formal soiree at a surfing beach and find you have nothing to hold the place cards, grab all the Sex Wax you can find. Who knew Mr. Zog and his Sex Wax could be so handy!

Now before I give you a recipe, let me take this moment to make a brief observation... the recipe's these x-treme athletes offer up are strikingly similar to those offered up by the Junior League set we visited last week. I have no great anthropological answer for this, but if you are in a grocery store and find Tony Hawk and Miss Manners heading for the Velveeta, take cover.


Her is a tasty little number from renegade snowboarder Dave Seoane. Amazingly, it does not call for cheese, canned soup or potato chips!

Cinema Zucchini

Ingredients

10 strips of your favorite bacon
1 can of stewed tomatoes
3 baby-arm-size zucchini
1/2 onion, sliced
A handful of mushrooms

What to do

First fry up bacon until golden brown.
Then add the stewed tomatoes, zucchini, sliced onion, and mushrooms.
Feel free to add your favorite spices such as garlic, oregano, and cilantro.
After the zucchini is fully cooked, simmer on low for 15 minutes.
Goes great with your favorite red meat.

If you have a wayward 15-year-old and need a gift, this just might the ticket.

The I Love Trader Joe's Cookbook

I love Trader Joe's. I never thought of making it a career, though! Cherie Mercer Twohy did think of it and here is The I "heart" Trader Joe's Cookbook. Well, I must say I also heart Trader Joe's with the following caveat. EVERY time I find something I can't live without, Trader Joe's stops selling it and tells me that no one else bought it. I find that soooo hard to believe since I always bought the items such as yuzu honey, extra long spaghetti, Grana Pando cheese in it's own grater, the list goes on. My new favorite is pureed sweet potatoes in a can! My guess is I just bought the last of them as I am sure they will discontinue them by the next time I get to Trader Joe's.

Still, when I go to D.C. the thing I most want to visit is Trader Joe's.

Here is a fresh and easy summer dish that you will just love... and you don;t really have to shop at Trader Joe's to make it.

Roasted Asparagus with Hazelnuts and Clementines

1 (16-ounce) package fresh asparagus
drizzle of olive oil
handful of chopped hazelnuts
2 clementines, peeled and sliced (not sectioned)
salt and pepper
shaved Parmesan, for garnish

Preheat oven to 450 degrees. Place the asparagus on a baking sheet and drizzle with a little olive oil. Roast 5 minutes. Scatter hazelnuts on top of asparagus and roast another 3-4 minutes. Place on serving plate and scatter clementine slices on top. Season with a little salt and freshly ground black pepper, and garnish with shaved Parmesan.

Now imagine how GREAT this would be with a bit of yuzu honey mixed into that olive oil and some Grana Pando cheese grated on the top from its own grater!!

Delectable Dishes From Termite Hall

Originally, Termite Hall was coaching inn located halfway between the Mobile, Alabama courthouse and Spring Hill College. It was known appropriately as the Halfway House. It was a place Eugene Walter knew well. The house came to its name honestly. There are several stories all a means to the same end. One has it that Mrs. Marston, the lady of the house, was walking through the house when the parlor floor gave way because of the termites. Another has the children sitting on a balustrade on the porch. When they got up, it collapsed, eaten away by the termites. Either termite story was sufficient for the house to become Termite Hall.

Eugene Walter was a consummate cook and food writer on a par with M.F.K. Fisher. He was a consultant on the Time Life Series, writing American Cooking –- Southern Style. He was also an award winning novelist and poet, a singe, actor and composer, and a general bon vivant of colossal proportion. For more on Eugene Walter, check out our post at Lucindaville. For more on his cookbooks, stay here.


Delectable Dishes From Termite Hall takes its title from the fine old three-story building seen above. Eugene Walter was not the kind of man to walk away from a good tale and falling through the floor at Termite Hall was a great tale.

Since he was a boy, Walter collected recipes the same way some kids collected stamps. As an adult, he compiled many of these recipes into a several cookbooks. In an introduction to this edition, novelist Pat Conroy writes,

“I have not come across a bad recipe in the book, and certainly, not a dull one. It was Eugene who told me that as a cookbook writer he was always trying to disguise the fact that “my real job is to be a philosopher king and prince of elves.””

Here is Eugene Walter at his elfish best on the subject of Jerusalem artichokes, grown everywhere in the South.

“Twenty-five lashes with a dead flounder to whichever publicity genius dreamed up the name Sun Choke. The plant has been known since the early 1600’s as Helianthus tuberosus, topinamber, and Jerusalem artichoke. …I love the French topinambour: I’ve always felt that if Rumpelstiltskin or Pinocchio had a little sister her name would be Topinambour.

Here is an old recipe for an even older vegetable.

Stewed Topinambour – Old Mobile Style

Melt some butter and bacon fat in the skillet and brown a thinly sliced onion, sprinkle in a tablespoon of flour, stir until nicely colored, not dark. Add a small glass of dry white wine, mix and let simmer a minute then put in a crushed toe of garlic, some freshly-ground black pepper, a dash of nutmeg, and a pound or so of small peeled Jerusalem artichokes. Simmer until the vegetable is cooked but not mushy. Before serving add more butter, salt to taste, and a sprinkling of chopped parsley or chives.

If you have never tasted Jerusalem artichokes, give this recipe a try. And please, please, read Eugene Walter.

Bottega Favorita

In 1982, Frank Stitt boarded a plane for his native Alabama announcing that he was moving to Birmingham to open a world-class restaurant. People laughed. They are not laughing now. For several years after opening Highlands Bar and Grill, Stitt drove past a fading piece of architecture emblazoned with the words “Bottega Favorita.” Designed by the architects who built the New York Public Library, the building once housed the finest department store in the South, Gus Mayer. The building had fallen on hard times, but every time Stitt passed by, “Bottega Favorita” called out to him. How often do you find a building that already has a restaurant name carved in limestone in the façade? It wasn’t long before Stitt got his building.



Frank Stitt loved Italy almost as much as he loved Alabama. Until he opened Bottega Favorita the most famous Italian chef in Alabama was Chef Boyardee. Stitt took his love for Italy and his love for the indigenous produce of Alabama and married them. I have often written of the constant repetition that happens in regional cookbooks. Stitt takes many familiar Italian dishes and reworks them into Southern classics, giving new meaning to the term Southern Italian cooking.

Bottega Favorita: A Southern Chef's Love Affair with Italian Food gives us a look into that successful marriage. There are veal cheeks paired with sweet potato, pork scaloppini with greens and Vidalia onions, ravioli with crayfish, candied lemon and Tabasco, tuna salad crostini, lamb and orzo soup with butter beans, and the list goes on. These innovative dishes are some of the reasons Frank Stitt is consistently voted one of the best chefs in the country.

Farro with Butter Beans

1 1/2 cups farro
1 1/2 cups Chicken Stock or water
1 tablespoon unsalted butter
Kosher salt and freshly ground pepper
1 bay leaf
1 thyme sprig
1 cup fresh or frozen butter beans
A few thyme sprigs, a small celery stalk, a bay leaf, tied together with kitchen string to form a bouquet garni
Extra virgin olive oil for drizzling

Rinse the farro in a strainer under cold running water for a minute to remove any bitter residue. Pour the chicken stock or water into a medium saucepan, add butter, salt and pepper to taste, bay leaf, and thyme sprig, and bring to a boil over high heat. Add the farro, reduce the heat to a simmer and cook for 20 minutes, until the farro is tender and most of the liquid has been absorbed.

While the farro simmers, cook the butter beans whit the bouquet garni, in a saucepan of generously seasoned boiling water until tender, 20 to 25 minutes. Drain the beans, reserving 1/4 cup cooking liquid.

Gently fold the beans into the cooked farro and moisten with some of the reserved broth. Season with salt and pepper to taste, and finish with a drizzle of extra virgin olive oil.

I have shelled thousands of butter beans and never once thought, "Let's cook them up with some farro!" Now I do.

The Colony

Several bloggers including Cachagua Store, Lost City, Off The Presses, and Restaurant-ing through history
have mentioned The Colony by Iles Brody in the past year, so I dragged out my copy to give it look. The book is part history, part cookbook of the kind that gives you recipes in a simple paragraph.

In 1920 The Colony was a bit on the disreputable side. 667 Madison Avenue led to the bistro, a gambling hall and a somewhat secret maternity home. If you ventured through the door, it was assumed that “dinning” was the last thing on your mind. But many of the gamblers and their shady ladies were the cream of the society crop. They often told wives and associated about the food at The Colony and before long, people ventured to 667 Madison expressly for the food. One of those people was Reginald Vanderbilt who recommended it to his relatives and friends and soon The Colony was" The" place to dine.

The colony was filled with Kings and Dukes, actresses and bankers, and favorites of ours like Elsa Maxwell and Elsie de Wolfe. Each table had four waiters to do the customers bidding and one patron was notorious for tipping each waiter $100 (which is about $1000 in today’s economy).

Recently we have been offering up recipes for unusual vegetables and The Colony featured a recipe for chicory that we have never seen. Generally chicory is thought of as a cheap coffee alternative or in New Orleans a necessary coffee additive. At The Colony, it shined on its own.

Cream of Chicory Colony

Parboil a pound of chicory, drain and stew it for a half-hour in a lump of butter and juice of one lemon. Now mix one and one-quarter pints of Béchamel with it, and finish the cooking very slowly. Rub through a sieve, add some consommé, heat, and add some cream before serving. Garnish with chicory cut in fine strips, stewed and well drained.

I don’t know about you, but I am headed to the Farmer’s Market to find some chicory.

The Pleasures of Slow Food

In his introduction to Corby Kummer’s The Pleasures of Slow Food, Eric Schlosser lays out the premise for the Slow Food Movement. It stands, he tells us:

“…in direct opposition to everything that a fast-food meal represents: blandness, uniformity, conformity, the blind worship of science and technology.”

The Slow Food Movement began in 1980 with a band of activist who wanted to celebrate the country foods that were in danger of being lost as artisans gravitated to industrial jobs. The spokesman was a fun loving Italian named Carlo Petrini. Passionate about saving foods that were quickly becoming undervalued or extinct and equally passionate about the globalization of fast foods, Petrini became a food warrior.

Today Slow Food counts seventy thousand members in more than forty-five countries. Kummer’s book highlights the movement for Slow Food, the artisans who make the food and the cooks who incorporate the passion of Slow Food into their cooking.

This recipe comes from renowned pastry chef Elizabeth Prueitt featuring the herbs and locally produced milks and cheeses in the San Francisco area.

Gougères


1 1/4 cups nonfat milk
2/3 (1 1/3 sticks) unsalted butter
1 teaspoon salt
1 cup bread flour
5 eggs
1 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper
1 tablespoon minced fresh herbs, such as thyme or chives
1 cup (4 ounces) shredded Gruyère cheese
1 tablespoon heavy cream

Preheat oven to 350F. butter a baking sheet or line with parchment paper.

In a medium, heavy saucepan, combine the milk, butter and salt. Cook over medium heat until the batter has melted and the mixture comes to a boil. Add the flour all at once, stirring with a wooden spoon. Stir vigorously until the mixture is a smooth mass and pulls away from the sides of the pan, about three minutes.

Add the eggs, one at a time, beating vigorously until each is completely incorporated before adding the next. Fold in the black pepper, herbs, and three-fourths of the cheese.

Scoop out tablespoonfuls of the batter and place them 3 inches apart on the prepared baking sheet.

In a small bowl, whisk the egg yolks and cream together. Brush the egg mixture over each gougère and sprinkle the remaining cheese on top. Bake until puffed and golden brown, 30 to 35 minutes. Serve warm.

Carlo Petrini’s manifesto for Slow Food was finally translated into English and published by Columbia University. Slow Food: The Case For Taste is a must read for anyone interested in the local production and sourcing of food.

Boulestin’s Round-the-Year Cookbook

A meal worth eating must take at least an hour and a half; apart from that fact that it is not healthy to eat quickly, there is the point of view whit which we are concerned – the point of view of the pleasure of the table, to which leisure, anticipation, enjoyment contribute equally.

X. Marcel Boulestin

X. Marcel Boulestin began his career in France as a ghostwriter, followed in short succession as a writer, translator and collaborator. Though a Frenchman, he was a lifelong anglophile, finally moving to London. He moved away from writing and followed his other passion, cooking.

In November 1911 Boulestin opened his first restaurant, Boulestin's in Covent Garden. He became a forceful restaurateur who almost single handedly popularized French cuisine in the English-speaking world. His knack for writing came in handy as he authored numerous cookbooks, including Boulestin’s Round-the-Year Cookbook. In 1937, he became the first television chef, appearing on an experimental BBC program.

Here is a recipe for an often-overlooked vegetable featured in his January offerings.

Salsifis Sautés

Take a bundle of salsify, scrape them, wash them well in cold water and a little vinegar. Put in a saucepan a handful of flour, add water, little by little, mixing all the time. When you have enough liquid to cook your salsify, salt and cook on a moderate fire for about half an hour. They should be soft, yet firm. Drain them well and fry them in butter for a few minutes. Add salt, a little lemon juice, and finely chopped parsley.

As for the newer fashionable, shorter dinners, Boulestin says,

"One dish above all must be a star turn, the shining center against the proper background, the climax of which other things, discreetly and effectively, prepare the entrance, increase the value – a dish which your friends will gracefully remember, reverently mention for ever after, and possibly try to imitate in their own houses. “My dear, you must give me the recipe…”

Try making this salsify your star for January.