The Constables Larder

Provencal Fish Stew

I only like to blog the successes unless there is humor or an interesting lesson in the duds. “Giff is an idiot” doesn’t qualify as a lesson. Too obvious. I am pleased to say that last night’s meal was an unqualified success. Even I, who tends to be hypercritical of my own dishes (to Lisl’s annoyance), loved this. Essentially, you make a really good vegetable stew with provencal flavors, and then finish it off with the fish and serve on a bed of rice. Most satisfying!

Our fishmonger had some really good looking tuna, so I had him cut some 1/2 slices adding up to just over a pound. I think a firm fleshed fish like tuna or halibut is best for this recipe.

We served this dish with a delicious white wine from the Jongieux region in France called Carrel Vin de Savoie, and some freshly baked bread.

Provencal Fish Stew
Serves 4 to 6

~1 lb raw tuna, cut into 1 inch cubes
1 large vidalia onion, chopped
1 celery stalk, chopped
1 medium zucchini, halved and sliced
1 green pepper, chopped
1 fennel bulb, chopped
7 small/medium garlic cloves (and if you really love garlic, it can take more)
large handful of kalamata olives, chopped
1 28 oz can of crushed tomatoes
1/2 cup dry white wine (or dry vermouth)
1/2 cup water
handful of parsley, chopped
handful of fennel fronds, chopped
large sprig of thyme (or several, tied together)
1 bay leaf
4 or 5 medium tomatoes, sliced
1 medium red onion, sliced into rings
juice of 1/2 lemon
salt and pepper
olive oil
served with 1 cup of long grain white rice

In a dutch oven or stew pot, heat up a splash of olive oil on moderate heat and saute the onions until translucent. Add in the zucchini and cook for 5 minutes, then add in the chopped celery, fennel, green pepper and garlic, along with a couple pinches of salt (not too much since the olives will add saltiness). Continue to saute for another 10 to 15 minutes, stirring occasionally and letting the vegetables get tender.

Finely chop the parsley and fennel frond and add to the pot. Toss in a bay leaf and a large sprig of fresh thyme, along with the 1/2 cup of white wine, 1/2 cup of water, crushed tomatoes, kalamata olives, and juice from half a lemon. Stir all together and cook on a light simmer for another 10 to 15 minutes.

Thinly slice the tomatoes and add to the pot. Thinly slice the red onion into rings and stir into the pot. Cover and continue to cook on a light simmer for 20 to 30 more minutes, letting all the flavors meld together. Taste for salt and pepper.

Slice the tuna into rough cubes about 1/2 to 1 inch a side. Start cooking your rice.

When your rice is 5 to 10 minutes from being done, add the tuna to the stew pot. The fish should only need 5 to 10 minutes to become firm and cook through, no more.

Plate by spooning a mound of rice into a bowl, ladle the fish stew on top, and then grind a little fresh pepper.

Carbonnades a la Flamande (Beef and Onions Braised in Beer)

I wonder, as I stumble through the flurry of activities that inevitably follow the arrival of a newborn, if a slight halo of awe still hovers around me. When our daughter arrived almost 4 years ago, the C section at 34 weeks was mentally intense and nerve wracking, albeit ultimately wonderful. Natural childbirth (and for little James, Lisl chose to go entirely natural, without pain medication), on the other hand, was incredibly intense in a physical way and in some ways very surreal.

I was surrounded by women supporting a woman doing something powerful and fundamental, common and yet never ever mundane. It was amazing. The object of my awe is, of course, Lisl. Such strength and bravery through the 41 hour labor process was magnificent to behold. I know that these are not unique feelings in a husband after the birth of a child, yet the very ubiquity of my emotions is one of the quirks of this thing called childbirth. It is commonplace and continual, and yet so colossal every single time. I never quite grasped that until now.

However, the title of this blog post isn’t “ruminations on childbirth”. Food! I wanted Lisl’s first meal home from the hospital to be excellent, but I also knew that I was only going to have sporadic time available… it needed to be something I could start the night before. Richard Olney has a great recipe for beef and beer stew, but I decided to try merging two different Julia Child inspirations: Onion Soup and Carbonnades a la Flamande (beef and onions braised in beer).

French onion soup gets so much flavor from the long cooking and carmelization of the onions, so I brought that step to this recipe. The sweetness of the extra-carmelized onions complements the beer really well. I did not use any beef broth or water; rather the beef and onions was braised entirely in a “black and tan”, i.e. one stout and one pale ale (there’s lots of flexibility on beer choice — it’s very personal preference: Julia Child calls for a pilsner-type beer, and this is also really good with a Belgian abbey-styled brew).

I cooked the braise for a very long time on low heat, and the results were rich and delicious. When it received high compliments from both Lisl and my visiting mother, who got me started with a love of cooking, I knew that this was a winner. I do not have a photo of the plated dish, but with new baby and visiting family, I’m sure you will let me off the hook!

Carbonnades a la Flamande (Black and Tan)
(Beef, Onion and Beer Stew)

3 lb chuck steak
5 or 6 medium to large yellow or spanish onions
3 tbsp unsalted butter
1 tbsp olive oil
2 tbsp brown sugar
salt
handful of parsley w/ stems
1 bay leaf
1 bottle of a good stout beer (Guinness most common)
1 bottle of pale ale (Bass or Harp)

Pre-heat oven to 300F.

Cut the beef into slices about 2 inches by 4 inches, and 1/2 inch thick. In a dutch oven, heat a splash of olive oil on medium-high heat until a drop of water sizzles, then brown the beef in batches, adding more oil as needed between batches.You just want to sear the outside, but not fully cook the beef. Cook the meat in batches so that the beef is not packed in too closely together. Set the browned beef and any juices aside on a large plate or bowl. Deglaze the bottom of the pot with a small amount of water and pour the juices over the beef.

Place the pot back on the stove top. It is now time for the onions.

Peel the onions, cut them in half, and then slice them very thin. On low, heat 3 tbsp of butter and 1 tbsp of olive oil in a dutch oven or stewing pot, and slowly saute the onions for 15 minutes. Stir in 1/2 tsp of salt and 2 tbsp of brown sugar, turn up the heat to moderate, and cook for 30 to 40 minutes until the onions are golden and starting to brown. Turn off the heat and remove onions to the side.

Create a layer of half the beef on the bottom of the pot, then spoon half the onions on top and spread around. Tie the parsley and bay leaf together with kitchen twine and place on top of the onions. Sprinkle a pinch of salt around.

Then create a layer with the rest of the beef, and top with the remaining onions and a pinch of salt sprinkled around.

Pour in the beer until the beef and onions are just covered. For me, it took the full contents of both the bottle of stout (in my case, I used Keegan’s Mothers Milk) and bottle of pale ale. Bring the stove burner back up to a moderate flame. When the beer is just starting to simmer, cover and place in the oven.

Cook for 2 hours and then uncover and continue to cook for another hour or two until the liquid has concentrated down somewhat and the meat is completely tender. Skim the fat oil off the top. Taste the remaining liquid, and adjust the flavor with a sprinkle of salt or brown sugar if you desire.

The above picture was actually taken after I had served much of the top layer of beef, which is why the meat looks so shredded because it really falls apart at the lightest touch at this point. However, I wanted to show color and consistency.

I served this with basmati rice and swiss chard sauted with a touch of lemon juice, and my father brought the most amazing red wine. It was a fitting celebration of Lisl and the new baby.

Note: if you like cooking beef and beer, check out our pot roast in beer recipe

Meet James

James, shortly after birth

His first morning

Pork Pie, Bloggers, and Fritters

Claire, author of the Colloquial Cooking blog, invited a few of us over to dinner the other night to try out her pork pie stuffed with berkshire pork shoulder and ham and made with a lard crust. Pork? Pie? Now those are two of my favorite words! I’m looking forward to her posting the recipe because it was magnificent. [UPDATE: recipe is here!] She paired it perfectly with a frisee salad, lightly coated with vinaigrette. I went back for thirds.

Also at dinner were Marc of No Recipes, his lovely partner Liz, and Stephane from Chefs Gone Wild. It is always fun meeting up with food bloggers and geeking out over food. I am always reminded how much I have yet to learn when it comes to food. That is one thing I love about cooking: there is an eternal learning curve and always new challenges around the bend (as long as you’re willing to shake things up a bit).

This was also a last outing before the new baby arrives, so I was enjoying my taste of freedom considerably! mmmm red wine. pork pie. red wine. pork pie.

Marc also whipped up a killer sticky toffee pudding, with rum-soaked dates, to go with the English theme. That’s him on the bottom left opening a stubborn bottle of vanilla with pliers. There is no stopping the MacGyver power of No Recipes.

Thank you Claire for a wonderful dinner, and get that pork pie recipe up!

Speed Meal: Corn and Zucchini Fritters

The Bill Granger corn fritters recipe, paired with a rice vinegar, jalapeno and sugar dipping sauce, was one of my favorite discoveries last year. A few nights ago, when work required a very fast meal thrown together, I went back to the recipe and was reminded how delicious and simple this is.

The ingredients are listed here [link], and on that page is also a link to The Wednesday Chef where I first discovered it.

This time around, I used a fresh green jalapeno for the dipping sauce. It is not as pretty, but tastes just as good. I also grated up two zucchinis to add to the mixture (squeezing the grated zucchini to reduce moisture), and swapped parsley for cilantro. Loved it.

The recipe is a synch. Toss the dipping sauce ingredients in a pot and let it cook down a bit. Toss the batter ingredients in a bowl and mix, then stir in the vegetables, and then cook in a heavy-bottomed pan (a big cast iron skillet is perfect) with a splash of oil.

We paired this with a simple salad and chilled prosecco. I was one happy camper.

Savoring Spring: Lamb Merguez and Lentil Stew

Emerging from winter always brings an interesting feeling of renewal. Just the other day, I was sadly mired in longing for real produce. Tomatoes so fresh they are a meal unto themselves. Opening the door to pick a handful of basil and thyme. The flood of zucchinis and Japanese eggplant.

There is still quite a wait to reach those days, but at least yesterday we had deliciously warm weather. In an amusing dichotomy, the kids down the street had a snowball fight in short sleeves and shorts. As for me, I enjoyed an almost French stroll with my dog, walking into town and returning home with supplies from the butcher and the wine shop. If I was not baking my own bread these days, a baguette would have completed the picture. And some cheese. Really good cheese. And why do the carrots you find in French outdoor markets make our carrots look so pathetic? I digress. French markets do that.

I was pleased to see that our butcher had made some fresh lamb merguez sausages, and that became our dinner. I threw together a country stew that was quick to make and complemented the full-bodied Spanish red I had picked up. This kind of meal is cozy and handy when time is short. You want to make sure you like the sausages, since they provide much of the flavor heavy-lifting in the stew.

Lamb Merguez and Lentil Stew

Serves 2
4 lamb merguez sausages, skins removed and chopped
1 onion, diced
14 oz whole, skinless tomatoes, chopped (with liquid)
1/2 cup green lentils
1/2 cup dry white wine
1/2 cup water
10 oz spinach, washed and chopped
salt
2 eggs (optional)

In a deep saute pan, heat up a splash of olive oil and brown the sausage meat, then remove to the side. Place a tablespoon of the oil back in the pan, and discard the rest.

Saute the onions until translucent, then add in the tomatoes and cook for a couple of minutes. Add in the lentils, wine, water and sausage meat and simmer for 20 minutes.

Stir in the spinach and continue to let simmer for 15 more minutes, or until the lentils are soft. If the stew starts looking too dry, add a little more water (you want it to finish moist but not soupy). Salt to taste — this will depend on the strength of the sausages.

I served this with the wine and some thickly sliced bread, but if we had not been out of eggs, I would finished the stew off with two eggs baked on top (with a little ground pepper and a pinch of paprika on top, and the pot covered and on low heat). Apparently this is trendy now, but I ignore such things. I just think it would have tasted great. To see what I am talking about, check out We Are Never Full’s Eggs Cooked in Ragu.

Spinach and Ricotta Gnocchi

I love gnocchi. I constantly order it at restaurants and yet until tonight I had not made it in over a decade. However, every time I see a gnocchi recipe my brain sings out, “must make!” I landed myself in a nice bundle of hot water earlier this year after passing on a complicated gnocchi recipe to my friend Becky — without trying it. She did try it, and let’s just say it was not a smashing success.

When I saw Elise’s Spinach Ricotta Gnocchi post on Simply Recipes, my brain did the same thing. And I said to Becky, “this one looks much better!” She said, “YOU get to try it first this time.” Fair is fair.

I ended up making the gnocchi and serving it with fresh asparagus, pancetta and to try something new, a vinaigrette sauce. However, this post is not really about the whole dish because while I like gnocchi and asparagus, and I like asparagus and vinaigrette, I didn’t think all three went together in a blog-worthy fashion. It wasn’t bad, but it was not great either. So goes experimentation. (See update below for a better approach)

The good news is that this time, the recipe is a good referral. Making gnocchi is not the fastest process in the world, but Elise’s recipe is really quite delicious and I am happy to have half of the dough still in the fridge so I can have another go with a more traditional sauce.

Here is a link to the full recipe, and below are a few notes:

1. Her ingredients call for nutmeg, but I didn’t see it mentioned in the description. To me, the logical place for addition would be mixed in the food processor with the egg, salt, spinach and ricotta.

2. I first tried mixing the “dough” with my hands (her step #2) but found it to be near impossible because it was so sticky. I ended up using a spoon for most of the process, and near the end using a spoon and my other hand.

3. While this could be because I had to eyeball 1.5 lb of ricotta, I found that the dough wanted a bit more flour to shift from being a sticky mass to being a bit more dough-like. I used about 2 full cups.

4. I recommend splitting the dough into 4 smaller portions, wrapping each separately in plastic wrap, and placing into the fridge for an hour before commencing with the gnocchi creation.

5. once the gnocchi float, let them cook for a 2 or 3 more minutes before removing to a baking tray to dry

UPDATE: I made a second batch of gnocchi and served with a sauce of mushrooms and shallots sauted in a few tablespoons of butter (yeah I know), with a little salt and pepper, and it was delicious.

Review: A Homemade Life (Orangette)

Readers of Orangette all know that Molly Wizenberg can write. Her new book, A Homemade Life, is personal and touching and clever, with words that reflect the soft-focus photographs found on her blog that synthesize honesty and beauty in such an interesting way. The book is a series of delightful vignettes that align biographical anecdotes with recipes. While her stories are interesting and her recall of charming details is impressive, it is really the shape and rhythm and choice of words that won me over so completely.

Molly is willing to bare her humanity, and is as unashamed to write about her quirks and crushes as how much she loves her parents. She is not trying to be cool, and you adore her for it. She gives the reader a heartwarming lense into her life, very different from the “can’t look away from the car wreck” titillation so popular in modern tell-all books and reality shows. Her narrative voice is youthful, but not naive nor saccharine.

Above all, you see how much she loves food (in particular, cake — she’s big into cake). We both love comfort food, and while Orangette tends towards the baking/dessert side of things, and I steer towards savory, there are still quite a few recipes in this book that I am looking forward to trying, all clearly explained.

As is most obvious, I recommend the book very highly. I hope you are as delighted as I was.

Braised Lamb Shanks with Orzo

One thing I love about cooking is the freedom to embrace influences and the cumulative lessons of history. As a cook, one can learn from a rich body of experience built up within and across cultures, while preserving one’s own sense of self and style. In other words, derivative doesn’t have to be a bad word when it comes to cooking. The global synthesis of culinary ideas is celebrated.

This freedom is more fleeting in art, where there is a stronger fear of being derivative, partially driven by an art economy that places “new” on a pedestal. In food there is certainly a celebration of innovation, hence the fame of E Bulli and Alinea, but perhaps because cooking is as physical as it is mental, there is a greater acceptance, even glorification, of tradition and the merger of past and present. The physical also provides boundaries for how far things can be stretched. If something tastes bad, no amount of curatorial exposition can explain it into a good experience (though no doubt, some try).

So why the long introduction? Well, this recipe was triggered because I dropped by a lovely Greek food blog, Kali Orexi, and saw Maria’s chicken baked with orzo. Stopped the mental presses. Slammed on the browser brakes. I knew one thing at that moment: I had to bake the lamb shanks lurking in my fridge with orzo.

Then I spent an enjoyable part of this morning researching lamb shank cooking techniques in order to synthesize my own dish. I traversed numerous cookbooks (Child, Boulud, Tanis, Brown, etc) and many websites/blogs (Epicurious, Cookstr, Simply Recipes, Wednesday Chef, etc), and got some good ideas and discovered some cool things for future recipes.

The end results of this particular meal were fabulous. I do not always love lamb, but the flavor combinations were great, and I was also working with very young lamb carried by Fleishers, my favorite butcher. After flubbing a dinner on Friday night (I managed to create a tasteless pork chop brine, it seems… yes, the talent!), it was quite a relief to believe that I can cook after all! When an Aussie tells you that you did a good job with lamb, I think that means you can feel a sense of accomplishment, even if she is your wife (or should that be, especially?!).

Braised Lamb Shanks with Orzo
Serves two or three

2 lamb shanks (approx 1 lb each)
1 large vidalia or spanish onion, chopped
3 medium carrots, peeled and chopped
1 celery stalk, chopped
1 1/2 tbsp tomato paste
3 garlic cloves, peeled
4 stalks of parsley
1/2 cup of dry vermouth
1 to 2 cups of chicken broth
2 pinches of ground savory
2 pinches of ground sage
2 pinches of dried thyme (or a few stalks of fresh thyme)
1 bay leaf
salt and pepper
1 cup orzo

For prep, preheat oven to 300F and heat up your chicken broth in a saucepan or microwave.

Lightly salt the shanks. On a high flame, heat up a healthy splash of olive oil in a dutch oven large enough to fit the lamb shanks, and brown all sides of the lamb shanks, then remove the shanks to the side. Immediately lower the heat to medium-low and place the onions in the pot, stirring for a few minutes, and then add the carrots and celery. Cook for several minutes and add in the tomato paste, and cook for several more minutes.

Deglaze the bottom of the pan with the vermouth, and then place the shanks back in the pot. Add in enough chicken broth to reach about halfway up the shanks. Add in the garlic, herbs, bay leaf, and 1/4 tsp coarse salt.

Cover and place in the oven. Braise for 2 to 2 1/2 hours, turning the meat every hour.

Near the end of the braising period, bring a large pot of water to boil. You will use this to partially cook the orzo before adding the pasta to the dutch oven.

Remove the dutch oven from the oven, and remove the shanks to a side plate. Discard the garlic cloves. Spoon out the fat/oil from the surface of the liquid (this is the most painstaking part of this entire recipe). While you are doing this, boil the orzo for no more than 5 or 6 minutes in your pot of boiling water. Reserve about 1/2 cup of the starchy water (although if there is very little liquid left in your dutch oven, you might reserve a bit more), and drain the orzo.

At this point, you should have skimmed as much oil as you can from the top of the liquid and vegetables in the dutch oven. Stir in the 1/2 cup of orzo-cooking water, and then stir in the orzo itself. Place the shanks back on top, and return to the oven, uncovered, for 15 more minutes.

Finally, remove the shanks to the side, remove the meat from the bones and gristle, and sprinkle with a little salt. Taste the orzo and vegetables for salt and pepper (I found that this dish wanted a lot of ground pepper, but do so to your taste). Serve the lamb on a bed of the orzo mixture.

This dish pairs nicely with a relatively full-bodied red wine, such as a strong zinfindel but a shiraz or cabernet sauvingon would also be nice.

Smoky Legume and Sausage Soup

The blog has been pretty quiet lately because the evul-death111 cold/flu plague struck and struck hard, and I stopped cooking for a couple of weeks. It’s nice to be back! Of course, I warn you that we will probably disappear again for a bit, since kiddo #2 is expected literally any day now. Tick tock. I have totally forgotten what the first six months are like with a baby, which is nature’s way of encouraging humans to have more than one child. And if our English starts looking like we not only didn’t sleep, but also failed our first grade equivalency test, just blame it on that state of self-induced mania called parenthood.

This soup was the first thing I made when it was clear that I was not going to turn into a zombie and spend the rest of my days lurking around malls and B-movies. It ended up being an interesting merge of a soup bubbling around in my brain and a recipe by Joy Manning posted on Serious Eats.

Smoky Legume and Sausage Soup

1 smoked pork chop or ham hock
1/3 lb ground pork shoulder
1/3 tsp fennel seed
pinch of hot red pepper flakes
1/2 coarse salt
1/4 lb dried cranberry beans
1 cup dried green lentils
1 yellow onion, chopped
1/2 green pepper, chopped
3 carrots, chopped
2 celery stalks, chopped
1 fennel bulb, chopped
3 large cloves of garlic, minced
1 tbsp tomato paste
1 cup crushed tomatoes
1 rind of parmesan cheese
1 bay leaf
3 cups of chicken stock
4 cups of water

Soak the cranberry beans for several hours in cold water before starting the soup.

Heat up a splash of olive oil in a large soup pot on medium-high heat and brown the smoked pork chop on both sides, then remove to a side plate. Place the ground pork into the pot, along with the fennel seeds, red pepper flakes, and 1/2 tsp of salt, and brown thoroughly. Remove to the plate with the pork chop.

Lower the heat to medium and place the onions in the pot and cook until they start to turn translucent, stirring and scraping the bottom of the pot. Then add in the green pepper, carrots, celery, and fennel and cook for 20 minutes. Stir in the tomato paste and cook for another 5 minutes.

Stir in the rest of the ingredients: cranberry beans, lentils, garlic, crushed tomatoes, pork chop and ground pork, parmesan rind, bay leaf, chicken stock and water. Bring to a boil and then reduce heat to a light simmer. Simmer for an hour or two and check the tenderness of the cranberry beans. Adjust for salt and pepper.

Notes: if you want to thicken the soup, you can remove a couple ladle-fuls to a food processor and puree, then add back into the soup. I do not recommend using an immersion blender for this step, because you don’t want parts of the soup partially blended.

You can keep on cooking this soup for hours, and like most soups, it is really good the next day. I just ate it with some good bread, but you can also try it with a little olive oil or balsamic vinegar drizzled on top.

Savory Crepes

I used to make savory crepes all the time, and do not know why I ever fell out of the habit. The basic premise is that you create a stack of crepes and complementary fillings, and then bake for a brief period in the oven. The process is easier than it appears and the results are delicious. Crepes freeze well and can be made well ahead of time. You also have lots of opportunities to get creative around sauces and filling.

Making Savory Crepes
I have always used Julia Child’s recipe, which offers the following proportions to make two dozen or so crepes:
1 cup cold water
1 cup cold milk
4 eggs
1/2 tsp salt
1 1/2 cups flour
4 tbsp melted butter

Julia places the liquids, egg and salt into a blender, and then adds the flour and then butter. I just whisk it together (in that order) by hand. You might be surprised at how thin the batter is, but that is correct — to quote Julia, it should just “coat a wooden spoon.” Cover and refrigerate for at least 2 hours.

Making the Crepes I’ve never actually owned a proper crepes pan, and do not let that stop you. In the era before non-stick pans, I used a small frying pan and oil. Now I just use a six inch non-stick pan (see the picture below).

We’ll see if I horrify professionally-trained Zen, but here is my approach: heat up the pan on a medium to medium-high flame, and hold it in one hand. With the other hand, scoop out about 2/3 to 3/4 of batter in a soup spoon. Pour into the pan and very quickly rotate and tilt the pan around with your wrist (kind of like a spinning top that is losing momentum), so that the batter spreads out across the pan surface evenly. You want just enough batter to fill the bottom of the frying pan.

Place the pan on the heat for 1 to 2 minutes. The bottom should lightly brown. Gently lift and edge of the crepe with a spatula, then scoop under and flip. Cook for another 30 to 90 seconds (depends on heat of pan). Then place on a wire rack to cool for a couple of minutes before stacking, and repeat the process.

It might take a couple tries at first to get the right amounts of batter and motion, but once you have the hang of it, it is fast and easy.

Making your Fillings

To complete your meal, you need to decide upon your crepes filling(s). You can go vegetarian or add meat. You can work with tomato sauces, white sauces, cheeses, or whatever strikes your fancy. If you have Julia Child’s Mastering the Art of French Cooking, her suggested filling recipes are marvelous. In this case, I made two simple fillings: a chard and parmesan layer and a mushroom, leek and cream cheese layer.

Chard Filling
1/4 onion
1 bunch chard, stems finely chopped, leaves roughly chopped
1 tbsp butter
splash of vermouth
grated parmesan cheese

For the chard, I chopped and sauted /4 of an onion for a couple of minutes in a tbsp of butter and a splash of olive oil, on medium-low heat, then added the chard stems, finely chopped. After a few minutes, add the chard leaves (roughly chopped), cover, and let cook for several minutes more. Like spinach, the chard leaves will reduce in size. Add a splash of white wine or vermouth, and let cook until the leaves are fully tender, and taste for salt and pepper. After spreading this filling on the crepe, add a layer of grated parmesan cheese.

Mushroom, Leek and Cream Cheese Filling
1 leek, white and light green portion, halves and finely sliced
1/4 onion, chopped
handful of white button or cremini mushrooms, chopped
2 tbsp cream cheese
1 tbsp butter
pinch of ground nutmeg
salt and pepper

You can cook this at the same time as the chard. Place a tbsp of butter and a splash of olive oil in a pan and saute the onions and leeks on medium-low heat until softened, around 10 minutes. Add the mushrooms, a pinch of ground nutmeg and a little salt and pepper. Once the mushrooms are fully cooked, remove from heat and stir in the cream cheese.

Making Your Stack
Pre-heat your oven to 350F.

In a lightly-buttered baking dish, put down two crepes (for two different stacks). On this bottom crepe, smooth out some of the chard filling and sprinkle grated cheese on top. Then place another crepe on the stack and spoon out some of the mushroom and leek filling. Layer another crepe with chard filling, then a crepe with mushroom filling, and finally top with a final crepe and sprinkle more cheese on top.

In this case, I did not have a wet tomato or bechamel sauce, so the top crepe became quite crispy, but if you do make a wet sauce, save some from your mixes so you can ladel on the top of your stack.

Place the baking dish in the upper third of the pre-heated 350F oven and bake for about 25 minutes. To serve, you can cut into wedges or just place the entire stack on a plate.