It is so nice to have grilling season back upon us. In many cases, our jobs as cooks is to get out of the way and let the food and fresh product do the talking.  Here are notes from Saturday’s dinner, when we had a few guests over for Lisl’s birthday.

Three Bean Salad

1 can of red kidney beans
1 can of garbonzo beans (chickpeas)
1 can of black beans
4 ears of corn
4 sweet peppers (multiple colors if possible), cut into bite sized pieces
1 red onion, diced
1 bunch of spring onion, diced
Large bunch of cherry tomatoes, halved
1 jalapeno pepper, minced
Large bunch of cilantro, washed well and chopped
limes
lemon
salt and pepper
olive oil
champagne vinegar

I make this salad slightly different every time, but my basic routine is the following.  Carefully wash the canned beans in a colander, drain and add to the bowl.  Cook each ear of corn, still in the husk, in the microwave for 2 and a half minutes, then remove husk and take kernels off with a knife once cool enough to touch.  Dice the spring onions, using all of the green part, and toss it in with the diced red onion, tomatoes, jalapeno and sweet peppers ( I like using a mix of red, green, orange and yellow).

Dress the salad by taste.  Stir in the cilantro, juice from 1 lemon, juice from 3 or 4 limes, a sprinkle of olive oil and champagne vinegar (but go light on the oil and vinegar — you want the citrus to stand out).  Add salt to taste, and add some freshly ground pepper. Depending on how juicy your limes are, the number of limes you want to use will vary.

I like dressing this ahead of time so everything absorbs some of the citrus flavor.  This is a great, hearty and bright salad for serving a large number of people.

Pork Tenderloin Marinade

Large handful of parsley, chopped
Several sprigs of fresh oregano, leaves removed and chopped
4 large cloves of garlic, chopped
1 tbsp Olive oil
1 tbsp dijon mustard
1 tbsp apple cider vinegar
1/2 tsp salt
Pinch of fresh pepper

I made this marinade for use on three pork tenderloins — the amounts are ballpark but you can’t really go wrong here.  With a mortar and pestle, mash up the garlic and herbs.  Stir in the rest of the ingredients then rub all over the pork.  Cover and place in the fridge for several hours, then grill by searing the pork and then cooking on a cooler part of your grill until the meat hits the right point of firmness.

Side note: I was cooking on my brother-in-law’s grill the other weekend and I was reminded how difficult it is to work with unfamiliar equipment. I totally overcooked the chicken.  On my own grill, where I know how and where heat distributes, I was really pleased with getting these tenderloins perfect.  Lisl laughed and said it shows just how tough those Top Chef challenges are when they get thrown into crazy circumstances.

Shallot & Lemon Salad Dressing

There’s nothing rocket science here, but I’m addicted to the following salad and dressing and figured I would make a note of it:

Mince up a big shallot (or more than one shallot) and let the shallots sit for 20 to 30 minutes in the juice from 1 lemon and a couple splashes of champagne wine vinegar.  Then wisk in some olive oil, a dab of dijon mustard, and a pinch of salt and pepper.  Toss over a bunch of baby arugula (rocket), with some nice tomatoes and maybe some sliced mushrooms or red pepper. Can’t beat it.

Addendum

I’ve had Disqus installed on my tech blog forever and I *finally* have it installed here.  I much prefer the threaded comment system and after a few goes, it looks like it has imported all the old comments.

1 head of cauliflower
1 large fennel bulb
2 or 3 medium potatoes
2 tbsp butter
heavy cream
salt and pepper

Cut the fennel bulb into eighths (halve, halve again, halve again), and chop the cauliflower into similar sized pieces. Peel and quarter the potatoes.  Fill a large pot with about 1/2 inch of water (so the vegetables are not totally immersed) and bring to a boil.  Toss in the potatoes first, then everything else, cover so the steam is captured, and keep on a light boil until tender.  Drain.

In batches, spoon the vegetables into a food processor and puree (you will probably need to pulse, stir and push the fennel pieces down so they get fully pureed), and then spoon each batch of puree into a large bowl.  Once you have everything pureed, add the butter, salt, pepper, and heavy cream to taste.  Note: I usually make my mash potatoes with milk, not cream, but think the cream really works here.

This was a wonderful side dish, and I can see it being used as a nice base for either a hearty fish or chicken breasts.  I’m imagining lots and lots of mushrooms…

I’ve been reading Julia Child’s My Life in France and the difficulties she faced trying to publish Mastering the Art of French Cooking.  In 1959, when Houghton Mifflin finally passed on the book, and before Knopf picked it up, Julia read a note from her champion at Houghton who explained the rejection, “They feel [the average housewife] wants ’shortcuts to something equivalent’ instead of the perfect process to the absolute.”

America’s culture has changed a lot since then, but anyone who reads Simone de Beauvoir’s 1947 America Day by Day will be struck by how much has remained consistent.  The business instincts of the Houghton execs remains somewhat true today if Rachel Ray’s empire is any evidence.  Thankfully, there is room for more ambitious efforts, as Julia Child and Simone Beck proved and as new author/chefs continue to show; a recent example is Paul Bertolli’s almost literary Cooking by Hand.

Ratatouille strikes me as a perfect dish to highlight the merits of the two mindsets (and there are indeed merits to both).  Sometimes I will throw together a ratatouille very quickly, let all the components stew together for a while unaided, and enjoy a perfectly good rendition.  However, with a little more effort and time, you can take the dish to a different level entirely.

On Friday evening, after picking up some lovely fresh vegetables from the local farm, I rolled up my sleeves and put together an adaptation of Lulu Peyraud’s ratatouille from Richard Olney’s cookbook Lulu’s Provencal Table. It is considerably more involved than my usual, but the result, which we ate the next evening, was the sweetest, most delicious ratatouille I have had in a long while.

Ratatouille, adapted from Richard Olney and Lulu Peyraud’s recipe

1 lb vidalia onion, halved then thinly sliced
6 garlic cloves, lightly crushed, peeled and minced
1 lb zucchini, preferably small to medium sized, quartered and cut into 3/4 inch pieces
1 lb young eggplant, preferably Asian/Japanese (unless you are French), halved if large, and cut into 3/4 inch rounds
1 lb plum tomatoes, peeled, seeded, and cut into eighths
3 large sweet peppers (a mix of colors is nice; I used 2 red, 1 green), treatment below
Bouquet garni of 2 small sprigs each of oregano and winter savory, and 2 bay leaves, tied with kitchen string
salt
olive oil

In a large pot, warm up 3 tbsp of olive oil on very low heat and slowly cook the onions for 30 minutes, stirring occasionally. Add 1 tsp of salt (I like cooking with kosher salt), the minced garlic, and the sliced zucchini. Continue to cook on the low heat, stirring occasionally.

While your onions cook, peel and de-seed the tomatoes. To peel the tomatoes, score an X in the skin on the bottom of the tomato, and place in boiling water for 30 seconds.  Let cool, and the skin should slip off quite easily.  Slice in half (if the tomato was the earth, and the stem is the north pole, cut at the equator) and use a finger to remove most of the seeds.  Chop each tomato into 8 chunks and reserve.

Char your sweet peppers under the boiler, on the grill, or directly on a gas flame (Lulu’s method is to char over wood embers, but not everyone has that luxury).  Place the peppers in a paper bag and let cool for several minutes.  Peel of the charred skins, and de-seed, being careful to preserve the juices from the inside of the peppers.  Reserve those juices (sans seeds), and slice the peppers lengthwise into narrow strips; reserve.

In a large, heavy-bottomed skillet, heat up 2 tbsp of olive oil on medium heat. Saute the eggplant rounds (or pieces) on one side for a couple of minutes, sprinkling half a teaspoon of salt on top, then add another 1 or 2 tbsp of olive oil and flip the eggplant and cook the other side for several minutes until they are softened.  I add the oil in two steps so that one side of the eggplant doesn’t absorb it all. Add the eggplant to the stew pot with the onions, leaving remaining oil in the skillet.

If the skillet is fairly dry, add another tbsp of olive oil, get the pan fairly hot with high heat, and then add the tomatoes and half a teaspoon of salt. Saute, shaking the pan and stirring the tomatoes until much of the liquid has evaporated, but before the tomatoes disintegrate.  Empty the skillet into the stew pot.

Add the peppers and the reserved juices, and immerse the bouquet garnis.

Cook at a low simmer, uncovered, for 2 hours stirring occasionally and lowering the heat as the liquid reduces. Cook until all the excess liquid has evaporated and the vegetables are covered in a syrupy sauce.

Remove from the heat, taste for salt and stir in a little pepper. Let cool, and then refridgerate overnight.  Let the ratatouille come to room temperature the next day before serving.

Additional Lulu ideas: stir in some pitted black olives, some diced celery, and/or some more olive oil right before serving.

There’s an old saying, “if you can’t beat em, join em.”  It applies quite aptly to summertime heat and a good, fresh salsa don’t you think?

My current favorite method of salsa making is about as simple as it gets, and just relies on fresh ingredients.

Fresh Salsa
6 medium tomatillos, diced
2 large ripe tomatoes, diced
1 red onion, diced
5 or 6 spring onions, finely chopped (use all the green)
1 green pepper, diced
1 red pepper, diced
3 cloves garlic, minced
1 to 3 fresh jalapenos, minced (add heat to personal taste; can also use cayenne or serrano)
juice of 1 to 2 limes, to taste
large bunch of cilantro, chopped
1 tbsp rice vinegar (or to taste)
salt and pepper to taste

Just chop everything up and combine in a bowl.  Serve with some tortilla chips, or toast some bread with a little olive oil for a simple bruschetta, or serve as a garnish alongside a well-seasoned and grilled flank steak.

Don’t forget the beer.

Today Lisl had some friends from her choir over for lunch, and this went over quite well (we also had a hit with a black-eyed pea salad that was sort of a combination of this and this).

Below the fold, I’m attaching a few more photos from our recent trip up to the Catskills.

Beet greens are a new, delightful discovery to me.  For the longest time, I carried a grudge against beets for the appalling way they treated my childhood taste buds.  My conclusion, at age 8, was only the only one logical, or even thinkable: like Romeo from Verona, the vegetable must be banished. Of course, my mother wished that I could think in terms of the Bard at that tender age, but I was probably too focused on drawing spaceships destroying each other with intricate multi-colored laser beams.

Lisl has brought many new things into my life which I find surprisingly enjoyable, like children (well, maybe the jury should be out on that one), washing up as I cook, pavlova (more on that below), and beets.  Roasted beets with goat cheese, walnuts, and arugula. That’s so good, it doesn’t need to be a grammatically proper sentence.  However I digress from the initial impetus of this post, which was me using more of the greens from the vegetables I purchase. Who knew that you could eat beet, turnip, radish, dandelion, etc etc greens? (Answer: many of you, but not me until last year!)

I purchased some beets with the greens still attached and fresh. I also found these baby turnips with their greens at the Kingston, NY farmers market (now open).  When Lisl and I had dinner at Blue Hill at Stone Barns the other weekend (wonderful experience), one of my favorite elements was the simplest: raw baby turnips with a subtle dressing.  And that is exactly how I ate the beauties in the above picture.  But rather than throw out the greens, which I might have done in an earlier, more ignorant phase, I sauted them with the beet greens in this fairly classic combination:

Sauted Beet and Turnip Greens with Bacon and Legumes
Bunch of fresh beet greens
Bunch of fresh turnip greens
2 or 3 slices of thickly cut bacon
1/4 cup of dried or fresh legumes (see below)
salt and pepper
optional: dry white wine or vermouth

The first step in creating this dish is cooking the legumes. I think the best choice for this dish is cranberry beans, but I made this twice recently with flageolet beans and separately with christmas lima beans (top picture, they are like lima beans with a slight chestnut flavor) and enjoyed both. Cover the beans with an inch or so of cold water, bring to a boil for a few minutes, then lower to a very light simmer until tender (if dried beans, this can take 30 to 60 minutes or more, depending on age of beans). Optionally, you can add in a bay leaf, half an onion, and a crushed garlic clove.  When the beans are tender (a nibble on a cooled bean will tell you), drain and set aside until needed.

Thoroughly wash your greens and dry them with a kitchen towel.  Remove any greens that are yellow or very wilted.  Loosely chop them right before adding to the pan.

beet greens on the left, turnip greens on the right

Halve the bacon slices lengthwise, and the cut into 1/4 inch pieces. Cook in a large saute pan on medium-low heat until they are lightly browned but not yet crispy.  Chop and add the greens, then cover and cook for three minutes.  Uncover and stir in the beans (you don’t need to use all the beans — just enough so that you are happy with the proportions) along with a little salt and pepper.  Cook for another couple of minutes, stirring occasionally and adding a splash of white wine or vermouth if you are inclined.  The greens should not take long to cook — taste for salt and pepper and then serve.

The first time I made this, I paired it with pork loin covered in a basil and radish leaf pesto (more use of unusual greens, although for pesto I recommend parboiling and squeezing some of the moisture out of the radish leaves first).

Other Food Photos and Notes

• I made my favorite braise of the year (pork shoulder with ginger, fennel and citrus) when Stephane from Zen Can Cook and Claire from Colloquial Cookin’ came to visit us in the Catskills. I used too much broth and ended up with a sauce that did not live up to the original.  What I love about this dish is that it transforms fennel into something completely new and delicious, but I’m afraid I was a terrible and self-indulgent host by admitting my disappointment in not attaining complete perfection a few too many times.  Still, with those guests, I was understandably shooting high!

• I made another favorite braise recently (brisket in white wine) and this one was a slam dunk. Love that recipe.

• Lisl, Claire, Stephane and I collaborated on these little crostinis (above), which were quite nice. Claire and Stephane did the majority of the work, but they were basically as follows: the bread was toasted with garlic and olive oil, then topped with a flageolet bean puree (with herbs and butter), topped with some fresh fava beans (which next time I’d toss with a bit of vinegar), and finally with thinly sliced, aged asiago or pecorino and some salt and pepper.

• I grilled some berkshire pork chops with this dry rub (link) and knew I had done my job right when Stephane was twittering about it a few days later.  I paired this with a favorite simple salad of mine, as follows: parboil some fresh green beans (leave some crunch!) and then toss with cherry tomatoes and a shallot/olive oil/white wine vinegar/mustard dressing.

• Remember at the start of this behemoth post that I mentioned pavlova? Well there is a peek, and I’m working on Lisl to post the recipe.

We collected a whole bunch of violets from the lawn, but it turns out they were tasteless and scentless. Still, they were quite pretty!

My predilection for comfort dishes means that gratins, bechamel and cheese are recurring themes, but before I begin, forgive me a small rant: there is a fine line between a dish that is richly delicious, and one that is so packed with cream and butter that you can barely eat a second bite.  Too many restaurants err on the wrong side of that line.

I remember reading the author of Cooking School Confidential write about learning the optimal way to prep potatoes for mashing in order to get as much butter into them as possible.  My first reaction was “interesting” and my second was “maybe this is why I never like the mashed potatoes in restaurants.”

It reminds me of watching Anne Burrell explain, as she grabbed a huge handful of salt, how restaurant food is tasty because it is “better seasoned.”  And I thought, “is that a euphamism for salty?”  It is true that many tentative home cooks under-salt in the cooking process, but at least guests have a chance to rectify that.  I find American Italian restaurants to be the worst offenders of over-salting.

This isn’t just about health, although that is relevant to this topic, but just the observation that more is not always better.  I understand a restaurant’s desire to exude luxury, but you shouldn’t need a red wine strong enough to punch you in the jaw to make it through more than a few bites of a dish.

Now isn’t that a marvelously hypocritical way to introduce a dish with bechamel (one with more butter than flour even!) and cheese?!  This dish is not something I would eat every night, but it was utterly delicious and while it went right smack up to the aforementioned line, it stayed just on the right side.

I’d quip that I ate my hypocrisy most happily, but perhaps the serious  analysis is that the term “too rich” is subjectively like what the judge said about pornography: “I can’t define it, but I know it when I see it.”

Cauliflower and Fennel Gratin

Bechamel
4 tbsp unsalted butter
3 tbsp flour
2 cups milk
1/4 tsp salt

Gratin
a head of cauliflower
1 large fennel bulb, including fronds
2/3 cup grated gruyere or comte cheese
2 or 3 thick slices of country bread
1/4 tsp ground nutmeg
salt and pepper
2 tbsp butter

Making the Bechamel
Heat the milk up to a simmer and then turn off the heat.  Melt the butter on low heat in a medium sauce pan, then add the flour and cook for 2 minutes, constantly stirring the flour into the butter. Add a small amount of milk (about 2 tbsp worth) and stir in. Repeat two or three times.  At this point stir in the rest of the milk in 1/2 cup amounts, stirring constantly.  You can turn up the heat a smidgen, and keep on stirring regularly until the sauce thickens to the consistency of heavy cream.  Turn off the heat.

Prepping the Gratin

Make the breadcrumbs by ripping the bread into smaller pieces and pulsing in a food processor.  Spread out on a baking tray. Butter a baking dish (separate from the tray) for the gratin with the 2 tbsp, and then chop up and scatter the remaining butter over the bread crumbs in the baking tray.

Turn on the broiler and cook the breadcrumbs on the lowest rack (or set oven to a lower heat) until they are just turning golden. Remove from the oven and stir the breadcrumbs around. Reserve.

Cut off the tops of the fennel bulb, slice off a thin piece of the bottom, and discard the outer layer if really tough.  Save and finely chop the fine fennel fronds from the tops.  Cut the bulb in half and then slice into 1/2 inch thick pieces.  Cut or break the cauliflower into bite-size florets.

Scatter the fennel and cauliflower around the baking dish — you want enough vegetables to fill the dish.  Drizzle a little olive oil on top, sprinkle some coarse salt around, and mix the vegetables with two spoons.  Place under the broiler near the top of the oven for a short period to lightly brown the tops of the vegetables (keep an eye on this and do not let it burn).

Remove from the oven and turn the heat down to 350F.  Grind some fresh pepper on top and mix the vegetables again.  Cover the fennel and cauliflower with the bechamel, then sprinkle the cheese on top, and then the breadcrumbs.  Sprinkle the nutmeg and the chopped fennel fronds on top (no more than a tbsp of the fennel fronds).  Bake for 40 to 50 minutes, until golden on top.

I barely know how to start this post, or write it. It was the story of the recipe that turned into three. Our saga begins with our protagonist (that would be me) adapting a Richard Olney recipe for stuffed savoy cabbage. Enter cabbage stage left. Enter stuffing stage right.  The audience gasps.

Now, I don’t know what kind of uber-cabbages Olney was eating in the south of France, but as my imaginary heckler would say, “zat stuffing will nevarre feet in zat cabbage! Zat ees not a vrai Franche cabbage!”

I had a lot of extra stuffing. I mean I had 6 pork pastries and a meatloaf worth of extra stuffing.  But like all good tales, our protagonist learned along the way and came to a happy conclusion. The learnings: that I prefer to stuff individual leaves to an entire cabbage, and that this stuffing makes a damn good meat pastry/pie!  Yes valiant readers, unlike a French movie, this tale ends happily (and with no cigarettes or accordian music either!).

In order to make this as readable as possible, I am going to start with the stuffing ingredients (which have been halved) and process, and then discuss two delicious uses.

Making the Stuffing

1/2 lb ground or chopped pork
1/8 lb guanciale (or good bacon), chopped
1/8 cup long grain white rice
1/8 cup farro (optional, otherwise use 1/4 cup rice)
5 large leaves of Swiss chard
3 of the best stems from the swiss chard, chopped
1/2 large onion, finely chopped
1/2 tbsp butter
1 small clove garlic, minced
1 medium-sized roma tomatoes, skinned, seeded and chopped
1/4 tsp dried thyme
1/4 tsp dried oregano
chicken or vegetable stock
salt
pepper
nutmeg

In a medium saucepan, bring some water to boil and dunk the tomatoes for 30 seconds (having carved a shallow X in the flower end) in order to skin them.  Bring the water back to a boil, and boil the rice and farro for 12 minutes, then quickly drain. (Note: the farro is optional, but even at this small amount, it brings a nice flavor to the stuffing)

Parboil the chard leaves for 4 minutes, drain and cool, then squeeze out the moisture with your hands and chop.

On medium low heat, saute the guanciale (or bacon) until it is just browning (i.e. not yet crispy), then remove to the side.  Leave the melted fat in the pan, turn the heat up slightly and brown your finely chopped or ground pork, and remove to the side.  In the same pan and in the melted fat, saute your onions, chopped chard stems, garlic and butter on low heat for a few minutes.

Stir in the rice, farro, guanciale, pork, tomatoes, chard leaves, thyme, oregano and a pinch of nutmeg and cook for a minute or two, then turn off the heat, letting the mixture cool and tasting for salt and pepper.

[Differences with Olney: he does not pre-cook his stuffing, but I like browning the meat and believe that this process makes it safer to season the mixture with salt and pepper, ie you can taste it without worrying about the raw meat; I also added the use of farro and chard stems, and replaced salt pork with guanciale]

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Recipe 1: Pork Pastries with Pickled Onions

This was the recipe shown in the picture at the top of the blog post, and it made for an great meal.  A mmmfffffgh you can’t talk because your mouth is so happily stuffed kind of meal.  The below amounts will feed 4 ravenous adults.

Pâte Brisée Pastry
Enough for 12 to 15 5″ rounds
3 cups unbleached all purpose flour*
18 tbsp unsalted butter
3/4 tsp salt
icewater

*Note on the flour: I know many people are trying to switch to weight, but I did not have a scale handy, and frankly, since some of my favorite cookbook authors each have their own ratio of flour to butter, I don’t think scientific precision is necessary here for a great result.

There are many ways to make pate brisee pastry. This currently is my favorite method but use whatever method you like best: chop the butter into 1/4 inch cubes and then place in the freezer for a few minutes.  Combine the flour and salt in a food processor, and then add the butter. Pulse quickly twice.  Add 2 tablespoons of water, then pulse, and repeat twice more.

Dump the loose mixture onto your work surface and push it together with your hands.  As needed, add small amounts of ice cold water and mix it in until the pastry dough is starting to stick together.  You do not want to overwork it, or add so much water that the dough is sticky, and there can still be some crumbly elements that are not yet sticking to the mass.  Push it all together into 4 separate balls, including as much of the crumbly elements remaining, wrap in plastic wrap and place in the fridge for at least 30 minutes.

Pre-heat oven to 375F.

Place your stuffing in the food processor and pulse several times until everything is more finely chopped and mixed.

Flour your work surface and roll out one of the balls to approx. 1/8″ thickness, leaving the others in the fridge until needed. You can make whatever size meat pies you want: little 3″ diameter circles like empanadas, or in my case, larger 5.5″ diameter circles that were made by inverting and pressing down with a rimless bowl.  Use a paring knife to trace the circle outline and remove the circle of dough to a different surface.

Withe 3″ circles, you might only want to use a heaping teaspoon of the stuffing. These larger rounds took 1.5 to 2 tablespoons of stuffing.  Wisk up an egg wash (just beat an egg) and apply it around the stuffing with a brush. Fold over the circle creating a half-circle, and use a fork to flute the edges and create the seal.  You can also apply the egg wash to the top and sides of the pie to get a beautiful golden color and gloss, although you can see with the top photo that I did not bother with that step this time around.

Place the pies upright on a baking tray and cook in the oven for 30 to 50 minutes, until nicely golden.

I served these pies with some pickled red onions, and the combination (taking them both in the same bite) was just fantastic. You can do a fast pickle, where you put the sliced onions in a hot mixture, or take a more patient approach. In this case, I applied Stephane’s pickling method for ramps, which you can find halfway down this post [link].

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Recipe 2: Stuffed Cabbage or Cabbage Leaves

Whether you want to stuff the entire cabbage or just the leaves, the first step is the same: remove the outer green leaves of the cabbage, trim the stem, bring a large pot of water to boil and then simmer the cabbage for 10 to 15 minutes, drain in colander and let cool.

To stuff the full cabbage, lay it atop a large square of cheesecloth and gently peel back the outer 20 or so leaves. Then remove the heart by slicing across the core, being careful not to cut through the stem holding your 20 leaves. You can then chop up some of the heart and add to the stuffing, if desired. Shape the stuffing into a ball, placing it atop the center, and reform the cabbage leaf by leaf. Enclose the cabbage with the cheesecloth and tightly tie off the top using kitchen string. This can be kept in the fridge overnight, or you can move ahead to cooking, covered in chicken or vegetable broth (you might need as much as 3 to 5 quarts depending on pot and cabbage sizes), for 3 to 4 hours at a very light simmer.

To serve, place it in a bowl and unfold the top of the cheesecloth. Place a plate on top of the bowl and flip. Remove the cheesecloth, and flip the cabbage back into the bowl.

Now, serving an entire cabbage has a nice rustic, family feel to it, but we decided we preferred individually stuffing cabbage leaves (or if you prefer, large chard leaves with the stems removed). The advantage of stuffing leaves is that you can just get two cabbages and use as many leaves as you need, not having to worry about matching stuffing amount to cabbage size (although that problem did lead to delicious pork pastries!).  Individual leaves also create nicely packaged portions.

To stuff individual leaves, mold the stuffing into individual meatballs 1.5 or 2 inches thick, and roll each one up in a parboiled cabbage leaf. Place in an oven capable pot, like a large dutch oven, and pour enough heated broth to cover. Place in an oven set to 325F and cook for an hour or two.

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Postscript: Meatloaf

As I mentioned, I did also make a meatloaf with extra stuffing (which had gone through the food processor, similar to pork pastry recipe), by mixing in two eggs, molding into a loaf on a baking dish, covering with bacon, and cooking for an hour at 350F.  It was a huge hit with my 4 year old, and I enjoyed it paired with a shallot, spring onion and mushroom pilaf.  I still prefer my normal meatloaf recipe, but this made for a nice change.

What defines a “comfort” dish?  Sentimentality, based on good home cooking? Texture? Ingredients? Process?  Rustic presentation? I can’t quite put my finger on it.  This particular dish qualifies, but perhaps anything with the word “stuffed” in its name stacks the deck a little too steeply in its favor.  It is interesting how a word so derogative when applied to humans becomes so delightful when applied to food.

As I mentioned the other day, Gourmet Worrier’s recipe for Qarabaghli mimli bil-laham caught my eye. I ran with the concept, and created my own version, which combines ground pork shoulder, some nicely smoked bacon, aged asiago cheese, breadcrumbs, crème fraîche… oh nevermind, the recipe is below the fold!

The Stuffing
4 to 6 medium green zucchini
4 pieces of thickly cut bacon
1 lb ground pork shoulder
1 medium yellow onion, finely chopped
1/2 cup dry vermouth
1 large bunch of ramp greens (can substitute spring onions or leeks), cut in a large chiffonade
pinch of hot red pepper flakes
1 large bunch of parsley, chopped
1/2 cup aged asiago cheese, grated (gruyere would be excellent as well)
1 egg
1/2 to 1 cup bread crumbs

The Sauce
8 oz crème fraîche
pinch of nutmeg
1 or 2 lemons, zested and juiced
1 bunch of chives, finely chopped
freshly chopped parsley

Step 1: turn your zucchini into little boats.  Chop off the ends, halve them, and lightly run the knife down the sides of the zucchini as if you were de-seeding it, but stop with the knife before you get to the end.  Using the knife is optional but it makes things a little easier, for the next step is to carve out the hollow of your vegetable canoes with a teaspoon. Put the center parts of two of the zucchini halves aside for this menu, and save the rest for something (like ratatouille, see end of post).

Make some breadcrumbs by removing the crust from an older loaf of bread (I used a sourdough bagette here), and breaking down in the food processor.  Spread the breadcrumbs out on a small baking tray, scatter some dots of butter, and bake at 350F until just golden brown.  Reserve.  Leave the oven pre-heated at 350F.

Cook your bacon in a large saute pan until almost crispy then chop up and put to the side. Remove most of the bacon fat and saute the onions on medium low heat for a few minutes. Turn up the heat to medium and add in the ground pork, sauteing until lightly browned.  Add in the vermouth and cook for a few more minutes, then stir in the ramp greens, red pepper flakes, parsley and bacon. Cook for a few more minutes and turn off the heat.  Stir in the asiago cheese and taste for salt and pepper. When you are happy with the seasoning, beat an egg in a separate bowl and stir it in.

If you have a grill, I highly recommend rubbing a little olive oil on the “cut” side of the zucchini and searing quickly on the grill top.  Partly this is for aesthetics, but for the final presentation I was wishing I had been able to take that step (my grill needs some fixin’).

Place the zucchini halves on a baking dish, and rub the bottoms with some olive oil (depending on the size and number of zucchini, you might need two — I did).  Scoop the mixture into each of the canoes.

Drizzle some olive oil around the edges of the zucchini, and sprinkle a healthy amount of breadcrumbs over each one.  Bake in the oven at 350F for about 50 minutes.

The Sauce
The crème fraîche sauce makes this dish, so you do not want to skimp!  Take about 8 ounces of crème fraîche, and thin it slightly with some lemon juice.  Add in a pinch of ground nutmeg.  When you serve the zucchinis, generously spoon the sauce on top, and then scatter some lemon zest, freshly chopped chives, and freshly chopped parsley on top.

Notes
This goes nicely with a simple side salad and a full bodied white wine. We finished off the meal with some strawberries and blueberries coated in honey and a chiffonade of fresh basil. Zoe reminded me how much I liked this simple desert. Honey and basil together transform into something new and delightful.

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Summer “Leftovers” Menu Idea
I thought I would also append this post with a simple dinner that is not worthy of it’s own post. After reading Stacey Snacks and Tartelette, I had to cook up a ratatouille. Mine had its own touches but was pretty basic, so I won’t repeat a recipe here.  I sliced up some cold beef (from a gorgeous porterhouse steak we grilled the other day, but a grilled, cold london broil would work too), and served it with a pesto-like green sauce. The sauce was created by combining parsley, basil, half a garlic clove, lemon juice, capers, pine nuts, olive oil, hot red pepper flakes, a small amount of salt and pepper, a touch of white wine vinegar — all mashed together to taste with a mortar and pestle.  We served this with some pickled ramps, and a chilled pinot noir.

I really enjoyed this meal because it worked for a hot evening, with the ratatouille adding substance without heaviness, and the sharp sauce adding a contrast that worked well with the cold beef. As usual, my plating skills left something to be desired, but that is a skill I have yet to conquer.

Easter Sunday was a bit unusual for me this year.  I spent the morning with family, but ever-patient Lisl gave me special dispensation to spend the afternoon tromping around the woods with a bunch of other food bloggers collecting wild ramps, fiddleheads, stinging nettles, wild garlic, and more.  This outing was organized by Marc of No Recipes (who has a full write-up of the event and resulting menu on his blog, along with some great photos) and Jonathan of Lab 24/7.

(Clockwise from top-left: ramps; stinging nettles; fiddleheads; non-edible but pretty flowers)

I now understand the special appreciation people have for ramps.  Douse them in olive oil and sea salt and toss under the broiler for a few moments, and the results will make you go weak in the knees.  Since Sunday, I have also eaten pickled ramps, sauteed ramps with the drippings from a roast chicken, made ramp fritters (recipe below), and later this week will be making a ramp risotto.  One has to strike when the iron is hot!

Unfortunately, with a newborn at home, I was not able to partake in the amazing feast put on by Marc and crew (with the talents of Stephane from Zen Can Cook and Claire from Colloquial Cooking), so I am not able to speak to the taste of fiddleheads and stinging nettles, but at least I am now armed with the knowledge to forage such things in future!  I had a great time, however, and spending time in the kitchen with that team prepping the meal was a blast.  Now, I had mentioned ramp fritters had I not?

Ramp Fritters

Tonight’s recipe combines Richard Olney’s fritter batter with ramps, zucchini, parsley, and lemon. Beating the egg whites makes these feel quite light and decadent for something fried, and it is a technique I will use more often in future.

Fritter Batter
from Richard Olney’s Simple French Food
3/4 cup flour
2 eggs, separated with whites set aside
3/4 cup beer (I used Bass pale ale)
2 tbsp olive oil
1/4 tsp salt

Fritter mixture
15 small to medium ramps, cleaned (treatment below)
2 zucchini, peeled and grated
2 tbsp finely chopped parsley
1 stem of wild garlic or a small garlic clove, finely minced
salt and pepper
juice from half a lemon
splash of olive oil

First create the base of the batter by combining the flour, egg yolks, beer, olive oil and salt in a bowl and whisk just enough to blend everything together smoothly.  Let rest for at least an hour, which according to Olney helps it better coat the items to be fried (this can be skipped given this recipe’s particular approach, but I did it anyway).

In a colander, thoroughly squeeze the moisture out of the grated zucchini with your hands.  Place in a bowl.  Finely chop the stems of the ramps, chop a fine chiffonade of the leaves, and add to the bowl.  Stir in the garlic, lemon juice, olive oil and a pinch of salt and pepper. Let this rest as well while the batter sits.

Beat the egg whites until the peaks hold, and fold them into the batter.  Gently stir the vegetables into the batter.

Heat up some olive oil (or a mixture or olive oil and vegetable/canola oil) in a large cast iron pan on medium-high heat, enough to well-coat the surface of the pan.  When a drop of water jumps and sizzles in the pan, you are ready.  With a decent-size soup spoon, place spoonfuls of batter around the pan, being careful not to overcrowd or let fritters touch each other.  Cook until golden brown on both sides, then remove to a drying rack or a plate with paper towel.

Serve with some fresh lemon juice and taste for salt and pepper. While I was not able to test this tonight, I also suspect that crème fraiche in addition to the lemon would make a wonderful complement to the fritters (a combination Marc used to good effect with the amuse bouche shortbreads he made).

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I’m going to leave you with a shot of Stephane’s pickled ramps, which were heavenly, as an unsubtle attempt to peer-pressure him into blogging the spice ratios. These were so quickly devoured that they had to be hidden to save some for the evening’s pork belly dish. They also contributed to a killer martini.

Update: Liz from the Zested blog (wonderful photography), who I met that day, beat Stephane in getting the pickling recipe up. Check it out!

Potatoes in Beer
from Richard Olney’s Simple French Food
Serves 4

1 1/2 lb potatoes, thinly sliced*
1 large onion, halved then finely sliced
1 cup beer (see below)
1/2 cup heavy cream
2 tbsp of unsalted butter
salt

Preheat oven at 400F.

Butter the bottom and sides of a deep baking dish**, and then place alternate layers of onion and potatoes. Have your first layer be onions and the last be potatoes, and try to make your layers as densely packed as possible. Salt each layer lightly.

Pour the beer over the potatoes, and scatter thin shavings of butter all over the top. I used a pale lager for this dish, and think a pale ale would work well too. I’m curious to try it with a dark beer and will update this post when I do.

Place the dish into the oven and turn the heat down to 370F. Bake for 50 minutes. Remove and pour the cream over the surface, and then return to the oven for another 10 to 15 minutes.

*I think this dish will be excellent with either large red potatoes or baking/Idaho potatoes.  The texture will be slightly different at the end.  I sliced them about 1/16″ thick (or two mm).

*Note: Olney recommends a deep baking dish, and I understand why. You can see from the above photo that I used a pie dish, not having a deep, medium-sized baking vessel available at the time. The dish came out great but I was not able to pack in all the potatoes, which left the results a little too soupy. Not a problem flavor-wise, but it required more care when serving to not flood the plate.