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Warm Chevre & Swiss Chard Tart with Pinenut-Currant Relish

February 26, 2010 by farmhousetableblog

Who says there’s no such thing as terroir in America? Claims of culinary authority abound: “My wife is from Maryland, and she is very picky about crabcakes.” “I lived in New York for 10 years. I know bagels.” “That’s not the cheesesteak I grew up eating in Philly. Real cheesesteak has . . . “

As a native child of Southeast Texas/Southwest Louisiana, what can I claim to be an expert on? Gumbo? Rice and gravy? Etouffee? Barbecued crabs? All favorites for sure, but of my childhood home, not my adopted one. I’m not an expert on barbecue, or Tex-Mex, or wheatgrass juice, and thought I might never “get” Austin food. Until I cooked one of my favorite recipes from Suzanne Goin’s cookbook and Jesse said, “Is that the swiss chard tart from the Lucques cookbook? I was just going to make that!” Yes, here we all are, each in our own warm kitchens with the same harvest share. When I taste this week’s chard, or spinach, or kale, I know that the same flavors are shared and savored by hundreds of you. We can exchange recipes, swap stories and connect about food because we’re all eating the same things. That is really the strength of what we’re doing–sitting down at our communal table to share foods grown under the same sun, in the same soil, watered by the same soft winter rains, harvested by the same caring hands. What is terroir but a sense of place, a grounding in common soil, a joy in common flavors, a defining of “I” by “we”?

I might think “I” don’t like swiss chard, but “we” do, so I’ll find a way to enjoy it. And, lo and behold I did.

Warm Chevre & Swiss Card Tart with Pinenut-Currant Relish

adapted from Sunday Suppers at Lucques, by Suzanne Goin

1 8×12 sheet puff pastry or 1 pkg Word on Food piecrust

2 egg yolks

1 bunch swiss chard, cleaned, center ribs removed

3 Tbs olive oil

1/4 c sliced shallots

1 tsp thyme

1/2 c whole milk ricotta, drained if wet

1/4 c creme fraiche, yogurt, or sour cream

5 oz chevre

Preheat oven to 400. Roll out the puff pastry or piecrust to 8 x 12. Fold a 1/4 inch border around the edge and brush edge with 1 beaten egg yolk (you will not need all of it). Place crust o sheet pan and chill.

Tear chard into large pieces. Heat large skillet over high heat. Add olive oil and shallots. Saute briefly, then add swiss chard and saute until wilted. Season with salt and pepper and set aside to cool. When cool, squeeze moisture out and chop.

Whis ricotta, remaining egg yolk, olive oil and creme fraiche in a bowl. Season with salt and pepper and spread on crust inside border. Spread chopped chard on top of filling, then dot with crumbled chevre. Bake 20-25 minutes until center is cooked and crust is golden brown. Serve with currant-pine nut relish.

Currant-Pinenut Relish

1/2 c pinenuts, toasted

1/3 c olive oil

3/4 c finely diced red onion or shallots

1/3 c currants

1/4 c chopped parsley

2 Tbs balsamic vinegar

pinch chile flakes (optional)

Soak currants in warm water to soften, then drain. Saute onion or shallot in olive oil until just softened. Add vinegar and let bubble and reduce for a minute. Combine with remaining ingredients.

Posted in Recipes, Uncategorized | Tagged , , | 5 Comments »

Warm & Crispy Chevre with Carrot-Almond Salad

February 19, 2010 by farmhousetableblog

There’s something about the competitive nature of professional cooking that turns me off. Sure, I held my own though years of smack-talk and innuendo in restaurant kitchens, yelling and flying food, and burns worn like badges of honor, but none of that really felt like cooking to me. What’s with all the drama? When tensions would get too high in my own restaurant kitchen, we had a saying: “Hey. It’s just food.”

Of course, my life revolves around food. It is very important–we are what we eat, after all. But the muscle-bound sense that it’s a contest? That just seems odd to me–isn’t eating supposed to be a communal act, a daily opportunity to connect, to nourish, to comfort, to share this most pleasant and sensual ritual? And here’s another thing I always knew: any cook is only as good as her ingredients. The other day, a friend of mine said, “forget chefs–farmers are the new rock stars.” I worried for a moment about what that meant for rock stars (never mind the chefs, what will become of the rock stars now?), but then I realized it is true, and for good reason.

There’s nothing I can do with out-of-season, bitter carrots, limp and exhausted from days of travel. Don’t have the ability to bring life to tired, tasteless herbs from a clamshell, or lemons that are more pith than juice. What would I even do with gassed and processed “baby greens” in a bag from a continent away, or those impostor “baby carrots,” crunchy tasteless nothings whittled from a real carrot in some far-off factory? It’s the growing that makes food good. Was it planted with care, the proper distance apart? Was the soil rich and dark, full of nutrients? Was the sunshine warm, was the hand that tended and harvested it gentle? Was it picked at the perfect moment of ripeness and flavor? With carrots sweet and a little earthy, creamy, rich chevre, peppery arugula, olive oil that tastes both herby and buttery, my job is simple: don’t screw it up. I know better than to pretend to be a rock star with that manifesto. Sometimes I cook lunch at the farm, and Stephanie says, “This is soooo good.” I just look right back at her and say, “Yes. It is.”

Warm & Crispy Chevre with Carrot-Almond Salad

1 bunch carrots, washed and peeled

1/4 cup minced parsley

2 Tbs. mint, chopped

2 shallots or spring onions, green stalks discared, sliced thin

4 oz. chevre, chilled

1 egg, lightly beaten

dry breadcrumbs

1/3 cup olive oil

juice of 1/2 lemon

2 Tbs. orange white balsamic or white wine vinegar

1-2 Tbs. sour cream

extra olive oil for frying

1/4 cup whole raw almonds

several handfuls arugula or tender, young garden greens

Grate carrots into large bowl. Stir in herbs and onions. For dressing, place lemon juice and vinegar in small bowl. Whisk constantly while drizzling in olive oil in a thin stream until emulsified. Add sour cream and whisk until creamy and blended. Season to taste with salt and pepper. Set aside. Toast almonds at 350 until browned and fragrant. Cool, then roughly chop.

Scoop golf ball-sized portions of goat cheese if soft, or cut 1″ thick rounds if more dry. Chill thoroughly. Form into “coins,” dip into beaten egg, then dredge in breadcrumbs. Heat 1/4″ olive oil in a small heavy skillet, and quickly fry goat cheese until golden and crisp. Toss dressing with carrot salad. Add almonds and toss again. To serve, arrange greens on serving plates, make a mound of carrot salad on top, and top with fried goat cheese. Serve with crispy baguette.

Posted in Recipes, Uncategorized | Tagged , , | 11 Comments »

Pork Schnitzel with Greens, Spaetzle & Meyer Lemon Brown Butter

February 12, 2010 by farmhousetableblog

I might be a romantic, but I have no love for Valentine’s Day. Years of February 14ths spent in restaurant kitchens ruined it for me forever. Mothers Day brunch is no cakewalk either, but Valentine’s Day is hands-down the worst day to be in a kitchen. Special “aphrodisiac” menus, rings ridiculously hidden in parfaits, the pressure, the hordes, the carnations, the chocolate-covered strawberries, the heart-shaped everything, the red, the pink . . . it’s all much too much. Dinner as performance is just not my scene. Which is not to say that I don’t believe food can be seductive, sensual, warm as a steamy embrace.

Take this recipe . . . really, it had me at “brown butter.” Deliciously bitter greens, velvety, chewy homemade spaetzle, and crunchy pork schnitzel have me completely wrapped around their finger when bathed in its nutty, toasty, fragrant richness. And that can make me swoon any day of the year.

Pork Schnitzel with Greens & Brown Butter

for pork schnitzel:

1 pound pork cutlets

salt & pepper

1 cup dry breadcrumbs

grapeseed or other high-heat neutral oil for frying

for spaetzle:

cup all-purpose flour

1 teaspoon salt

1/2 teaspoon ground pepper

1/2 teaspoon ground nutmeg

2 large eggs

1/4 cup milk

to finish:

12 oz. mixed greens

olive oil

4 Tbs. butter

1 meyer lemon–1/2 juiced, 1 half cut into wedges

Make spaetzle: In a large bowl, combine the flour, salt, pepper, and nutmeg. In another mixing bowl, whisk the eggs and milk together. Make a well in the center of the dry ingredients and pour in the egg-milk mixture. Gradually draw in the flour from the sides and combine well; the dough should be smooth and thick. Let the dough rest for 10 to 15 minutes.

Bring 3 quarts of salted water to a boil in a large pot, then reduce to a simmer. To form the spaetzle, hold a large holed colander or spaetzle maker over the simmering water and push the dough through the holes with a spatula or spoon. Do this in batches so you don’t overcrowd the pot. Cook for 3 to 4 minutes or until the spaetzle floats to the surface, stirring gently to prevent sticking. Remove spaetzle into a colander with a slotted spoon and give it a quick rinse with cool water, then spread in a single layer on a baking sheet and set aside.

Season pork cutlets with salt and pepper, then dredge in breadcrumbs. Heat oil over med-high heat and fry until golden and cooked through. Drain on rack or on paper bag, then place in oven at 200 degrees to keep warm while preparing the rest of dish.

In a small, heavy skillet or saucepan, melt butter and continue to cook over low heat, stirring, until butter becomes fragrant and brown. Stir in lemon juice and hold over low heat.

In large skillet, heat olive oil. Rinse greens and add to hot oil with water still clinging to the leaves. Season with salt and saute quickly until just wilted. Remove to plate. In same skillet, add spaetzle and brown butter, reserving a tablespoon or so of butter, and heat until warm throughout.

To serve, place spaetzle on plate, then top with a pork cutlet and greens. Drizzle with reserved brown butter. Serve with a wedge of Meyer lemon on the side.

Posted in Recipes, Uncategorized | Tagged , , | 8 Comments »

Roasted Cauliflower with Parmesan & Paprika Breadcrumbs

February 5, 2010 by farmhousetableblog

Everyone eats. But not everybody cooks. The other night, I trudged out into the gray drizzle to buy a bottle of wine and some paprika. I parked my car in Dante’s seventh level of hell, rode up two escalators, pushed and navigated myself to the back of the store, past cases and shelves of pre-prepared food, which could be ready in less than five minutes, waited my turn at the checkout, and thought, “How in God’s name is it possible that anyone still cooks?” We hear the siren call of prepared foods constantly, all day long. It gets louder as we get hungry. Why do all these chain restaurants, grocery stores, corporate food giants want to cook for us? Because they want to nurture us, warm our bellies, tell us they love us with the comforting, steamy aroma of some “lovin from the oven?” Well, probably not.

Before I was allowed to leave home for college, my mother sat me down for a little talk. No, not that talk. “Listen,” she said, a furrow between her brows. “You need to know how to cut up a chicken. The grocery store charges almost twice as much for a cut-up chicken. If you buy it whole, it will be much cheaper.” Imagining all my beer money lining the pockets of the manager of the Piggly Wiggly, I picked up my knife for a lesson in butchery. The truth, I realized, was that everything that gets done to food adds a little to the cost. If I bought fresh vegetables, unprocessed meats, live crawfish, unpeeled shrimp, whole fish, dried beans, rice, and pasta, I would save a bunch of cash. Lesson learned. Along the way, I bought a giant stockpot, rented an apartment on Chimes street, and had a lot of friends. I loved that my apartment always had an open door and a big pot of gumbo, bolognese, crawfish etoufee, or red beans and rice on the stove. That was my siren call, and it still is. Another lesson learned. If you open your doors and feed people, it can offer you the greatest joy humans can experience. Feeding people, awakening their senses, offering simple pleasure, warming them–this is why I cook. And to me, that’s priceless.

Roasted Cauliflower with Parmesan and Paprika Breadcrumbs

1 head cauliflower, separated into florets

olive oil

salt and pepper

1/2 cup finely grated parmesan

2 thick slices rustic, heart white bread, crusts removed

2 tsp. paprika

Place cauliflower florets in a large bowl and drizzle with olive oil. Season with salt and pepper. Toss to coat well, then add grated parmesan, and toss until coated. Place on baking sheet or in large, oven-proof skillet and roast at 425 until browned.

Meanwhile, place bread in food processor and process into fine crumbs. Heat olive oil in a large skillet, then add paprika and breadcrumbs. Cook over medium heat until crunchy and fragrant. Pour out onto paper towels or brown paper bag and set aside.

When cauliflower is roasted, remove to plates or serving platter and top with breadcrumbs. Leftover breadcrumbs are delicious as a garnish for soup or salads.

Posted in Recipes, Uncategorized | Tagged | 10 Comments »

Roasted Carrot & Avocado Salad

January 28, 2010 by farmhousetableblog

Whenever I return to Beaumont, I inevitably bump into a certain woman who corners me and jabs her finger under my nose. “I still miss that beet salad!” she exclaims accusingly. At Liberty Market & Cafe we served a roasted beet salad with chevre and balsamic vinaigrette. I know, I know, you can’t swing a cat by the tail in most parts of the world without hitting a roasted beet salad with chevre and balsamic vinaigrette, but Beaumont had only recently discovered baby mesclun mix when I began serving the dish 10 years ago. Each time we have this exchange, I patiently tell her how to make it (I’ve never been one to keep any recipe secret). “It’s simple,” I say, and launch into the recipe for the dressing, and instructions for roasting and peeling the beets. Each time, she waits with lips compressed and toe tapping for me to quit talking. “It doesn’t taste the same,” she huffs, and stalks off.

How is that possible, I wonder? It occurs to me that there are, perhaps, several techniques and ingredients employed in restaurant kitchen everywhere (well, at least the ones where they actually still cook things from scratch), that might be unknown or mysterious to cooks in home kitchens. First, there are several basic recipes that no chef worth his or her salt would ever purchase. These foundational components really, truly do make all the difference, no matter what Nigella says. First: stock. I make a pot of stock almost every week, keep it in the refrigerator, and use it for almost everything. Anytime I have leftover bones from roast chicken or from chicken breasts, I add them to a bag in the freezer. To make stock, “sweat” the bones with a quartered onion in a covered stockpot for 15 minutes. Add water, then simmer for 15 minutes. No salt, no celery, no spices. Now, your risotto, beans, soup, braised vegetables, sauces and mashed potatoes will have a certain magical depth, richness, and texture that was always missing before. No, you can’t replicate this with a cube of chicken whatever-that-is, or shelf-stable broth. Your food will still be good, but not as good. Vegetarians can make an amazing potato peel and carrot stock. Second, as much as I love Paul Newman, everyone should make their own dressing. Get out the whisk and fancy vinegars if you want, but placing 4 tablespoons of white wine vinegar, 1/4 cup of olive oil and a teaspoon of whole grain mustard in a jar and shaking it takes about as long as opening a bottle with all kinds of stabilizers and who-knows-what-else in it. Once you’re in the habit, basic vinaigrette can go in an infinite number of directions.

Ingredients matter, too. Chefs spend a lot of energy sourcing the most beautiful produce, the highest quality meat and seafood, and you should too. Taste, touch, sniff. Don’t buy anything pre-cut or “bagged and washed.” Make sure your salt, oil and spices are fresh. And use shallots. Diced shallots go into restaurant sauces, soups and pastas by the handful. They have a subtle flavor not quite like onion or garlic, but cousin to both. Again, that elusive, magical depth and richness. Salt is a key player too. Diamond Crystal kosher salt has no additives and is less salty than Morton’s or sea salt. Salt early (especially meat) and taste often.

And here’s a little trick I almost feel funny sharing. I’m afraid no one will believe me, but go to the restaurant supply store and buy a huge stainless bowl. You’ll be amazed at the difference it makes. Really. Before roasting vegetables, drizzle oil and spices over them and mix well in the big bowl. They’ll cook more evenly and the flavors will really connect. Toss salads in the big bowl so that every leaf of lettuce is perfectly coated with vinaigrette. Sauce hot pasta in the big bowl and every strand of noodle will be perfectly sauced.

One drizzly March day several years ago, I had a cumin and lemon-scented roasted carrot salad at The Spotted Pig in Manhattan. One bite and I knew that my choices were to either move to New York City next door to The Spotted Pig, or learn to make it myself. Thanks, big bowl.

Roasted Carrot & Avocado Salad

adapted by memory from The Spotted Pig, NYC and from Jamie at Home by Jamie Oliver

1 bunch small carrots, peeled, some stem left intact

1 avocado

2 lemons, quartered

1 orange, quartered

2 cloves garlic, minced

1/2 cup olive oil

4 Tbs. red wine vinegar

1 small red onion, sliced

baby greens, arugula, and/or mixed interesting salad greens, washed and torn if large

a few sprigs thyme

1 tsp. ground cumin

1 tsp. paprika

sunflower seeds, sesame seeds, poppy seeds, and pumpkin seeds

2 Tbs. Mexican crema

Preheat oven to 425. Place mixed seeds in small skillet and toast over medium to low heat. Set aside to cool. Cut carrots lengthwise and place in a large bowl. Add cumin, paprika, garlic, thyme, lemon and orange. Drizzle with 1/4 cup olive oil and red wine vinegar. Toss well to coat, place on heavy, oven-proof pan, and roast at until carrots begin to caramelize, but are still crunchy. Remove from the oven and let cool. Squeeze lemon and orange juice into a bowl along with all pan juices. Slowly drizzle in remaining olive oil and whisk constantly until emulsified. Slice avocado and squeeze lemon juice on top to prevent  browning. Return carrots to bowl, along with salad greens and red onion, and toss with dressing. Place on serving platter or individual plates, arrange several pieces of avocado amongst carrots and greens, drizzle with crema and sprinkle with seeds.

Posted in Chefs, Recipes, Uncategorized | Tagged , , , , , , , , | 9 Comments »

Cauliflower & Bacon Strozzapreti

January 22, 2010 by farmhousetableblog

Twine, butterflies, quill pens, little worms, wheels, snails shells, little ears, angel hair, twins, radiators, cocks’ combs, shoestrings, little tongues, wood knots, little sparrows, rifles, and priest-stranglers. An accounting of the goods and customers in a post-apocalyptic rag and bone shop? No, Italian names for pasta.

What do we have so many names for? Cars? Money? So many times when I’m writing about food, I stop, stumped for a word to describe a flavor other than “spicy,” “salty,” “sweet,” or “sour.” I love to talk to my children about food–their descriptions so often veer towards the tactile. Foods are not only “mushy,” or “crunchy,” but also “slippery,” “squeaky,” and “sharp.” I find that some things are “tickly,” or “velvety,” myself.  My favorite recipes are ones that call for a “glug” of oil and use visual words like “stringy,” “ropy,” “satiny,” and “bubbly.” In our increasingly virtual world, there’s not much left that is as sensual as food. Food engages all five senses–sizzling, popping, searing, piled high on the plate in a gorgeous abundance of color and nutty, caramelly, tongue-tingly flavor, wafting scented steam. Is creamy a flavor or a feeling? How delightful that it is both! Here’s hoping we all take a little time to register the nuances of pleasure available to us three times a day . . . maybe good food is the Mother Tongue after all.

Cauliflower & Bacon Strozzapreti

2 strips bacon, diced

olive oil

4 cloves garlic, sliced thin

1 red onion, slivered

1/4 c. sundried tomatoes, julienned

1 small head cauliflower, cut into florets

small handful torn basil and chopped parsley

1 pound strozzapreti, or pasta shape of your choice

salt and pepper to taste

grated parmesan

In a large skillet with high sides, saute bacon in olive oil. When bacon begins to get crisp add onions and garlic and saute until golden. Add sundried tomatoes and toss. Add cauliflower florets and saute until tender-crisp. Meanwhile, boil pasta until al dente. Drain, reserving a cup of pasta cooking water. Add pasta to skillet along with cooking water, a handful of grated parmesan and herbs. Toss everything together and serve with additional grated parmesan on top.

Posted in Recipes, Uncategorized | Tagged , , , | 1 Comment »

Fennel Gratin

January 13, 2010 by farmhousetableblog

Anise Dreams

There are moments in life where you have a sudden realization that you are living what had once been your wildest dreams. Such was my thought as I stood over Stephanie, who crouched over the row of fennel, clippers in hand. I pointed, “I’ll take that one. Oooh, and that one looks really good!” I mean honestly, who has it that good? I laughed, holding back the row cover for her, dreaming already about what I might make from these beautiful licorice-flavored dirt candies. A salad with citrus and spring onion? Pasta with caramelized fennel, its anise notes mellowed and sweetened?

It was cold and raw, so I opted for a gratin, that most comforting and warming of dishes, tender and nutty under a blanket of fragrant, golden cheese . . . Yes! I would make it a symphony of fennel, revealing its complexity and nuances in the flavor layers of seeds, bulb and fronds . . .  would a shot of pastis, sambuca or ouzo on the side be too much? Not for a dreamer like me!

Fennel Gratin

2 tsp. fennel seeds

1-2 bulbs fennel

1 small red onion

1 russet potato, peeled and sliced paper thin

2 cloves garlic, minced

olive oil

salt and pepper

3 Tbs. minced fennel fronds

1/2 c. cream or half and half

1/4 c. grated parmesan

Preheat oven to 350. Toast fennel seeds in small skillet until fragrant. Once they cool, chop finely and set aside. Cut fennel bulbs in half lengthwise, and remove the core. Slice the halves into paper thin slices and place in a large bowl. Cut onion in half and cut halves into thin half-moons. Add to bowl with fennel, along with fennel seeds, garlic, potato slices, and fennel fronds. Drizzle with olive oil and season with salt and pepper. Add cream or half and half and toss to coat. Line bottom of small gratin dish with potato slices, then pack remaining ingredients on top. Pour cream left in bowl over potato-fennel mixture, adding more cream as necessary to come about halfway up sides of gratin dish. Top with grated cheese. Bake until potatoes are tender and top is brown.

Posted in Recipes, Uncategorized | Tagged , , | 1 Comment »

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