Monday, October 26, 2015

Red Lentils


The 2015 cookbook season swings into gear! Just out: This is Camino by Russell Moore and Allison Hopelain with Chris Colin. What a fantastic cookbook! After cooking for 21 years at Berkeley’s legendary Chez Panisse, Moore opened Camino in 2008 with his wife Allison in Oakland, California. Camino turns out delicious, exciting food from a magnificent 10-foot wide limestone fireplace equipped with a brasero and various grills and warming stones. Because Moore cooks exclusively with wood fires, I wondered how he would craft a cookbook for a general audience. This is Camino certainly includes a number of grilled dishes and a whole chapter that walks the reader through the process of cooking an entire meal over an outdoor fire. The cookbook, however, focuses more on Camino’s food philosophy rather than fire cooking.

Hopelain beautifully sums this up in her Introduction: “After a little more thought, it seemed clear that the essence of our cooking isn’t ultimately the fire. The fire’s simply a (huge, roaring) means to an end. At its heart, Camino is about an approach to food, one that can happen anywhere. Neither Russ nor I are grandmothers, but fundamentally ours is grandmotherly cooking. Specifically, a frugal grandmother who grew up in the Depression, had plenty of style, kept a sweet vegetable garden, and could shake a good cocktail.” Nice.

Any number of recipes in This is Camino’s exemplify the restaurant’s carefully sourced, straightforward fare: Tomato Salad with Yogurt and Herb Jam; Matsutake Mushroom and Fresh Flageolet Bean Ragoût with Oysters and Wild Nettles; Grilled Squid with Fresh Turmeric, Chiles and Radishes; Grilled Lamb Rack with Fresh Shell Beans, Tomatillos and Mint; Pork Shoulder Cooked with Milk, Lemon and Myrtle with Turnips; Tunisian Orange Cake with Dates and Yogurt; Amaro Cocktail; Nocino; and the Camino Negroni.

This is Camino also includes a number of Camino’s quintessential recipes that are dead simple to make: Egg Baked in Cream; Potatoes Fried in Duck Fat; and, one of my all-time favorites, Red Lentils. Although I’m not a vegetarian, I often opt for meatless dishes when dining at Camino because…the food sounds so tempting and ultimately tastes so delicious! I’m most happy when the menu includes a plate of Moore’s lentils, roasted mushrooms and an egg or two. Here’s Camino’s Red Lentil recipe, which makes about 5½ cups.

1 to 2 dried moderately hot chiles
3 tablespoons olive oil
¼ teaspoon brown mustard seeds
4 cloves garlic, thinly sliced
3 (1/8-inch-thick) slices unpeeled ginger
¼ teaspoon ground turmeric
2½ cups red lentils (see note below)
Salt

Tear the chiles into manageable pieces, discarding the stems, and place them in a spice grinder. Pulse a few times to create a coarse powder.

Heat a pot over medium heat. Add 1 tablespoon of the olive oil and all of the mustard seeds. Swirl them around and cover the pot. In a few minutes, you should start hearing them begin to pop (kind of like Lilliputian popcorn). Once the popping begins to slow, take the pan off the heat and remove the lid. Here’s the tricky part: while everything is still hot, quickly add the garlic, ginger, and turmeric and stir immediately. You want the garlic and ginger to be coated in oil and you want the turmeric to sizzle a bit, but you don’t want any of it to get brown. I really don’t like burnt garlic and I especially don’t like burnt turmeric. So, after everything sizzles in the hot pan for 15 seconds or so, splash some water in there to stop the cooking.

Now add the lentils, some ground chile, a bit of salt, the remaining 2 tablespoons of oil (so you have both cooked mustard-y oil and uncooked fruity oil), and enough water to cover by about half an inch. Turn the heat up and bring to a boil, then turn down to a simmer, and stir to break up the clumps of lentils. Continue to cook, adding splashes of water here and there if the lentils start to get too thick and poke out of the liquid. But don’t add so much water that the lentils get watery and soup-like—you can always add water later, but you can’t easily take it out.

After 15 minutes or so, the lentils should begin to fall apart. This usually happens unevenly, so keep stirring and tasting for doneness (and, of course, for salt, since you are tasting anyway). It’s nice if there is a little texture left in the lentils, but there should be absolutely no raw flavor or crunch. It will look like a lumpy, bright yellow purée. The whole thing should take about 30 to 40 minutes.

To serve, you may want to add a little more ground chile or olive oil. Red lentils can be made ahead, refrigerated, and reheated easily over medium heat with a splash of water.

What a well-written, informative recipe! It’s like Moore is standing with you stove-side and carefully walking you through the cooking process. If you like this approach to recipes, then you’ll love This is Camino.

A few notes. As Moore points out in his intro to this recipe, use peeled red lentils (sometimes packaged as masoor dal, pink lentils or split red lentils). The first few times I made this dish I didn’t have any whole dried chiles on hand, but I did have a jar of Maras Turkish Chile from Oaktown Spice, which is located in Oakland, California. (Good news: you can order from this great spice shop on-line and their shipping doesn’t cost an arm and a leg.) The Maras chile married beautifully with the lentils providing a warm, spicy flavor.  I used black instead of brown mustard seeds and the dish tasted delicious.


When I lived in California I was fortunate enough to eat at Camino five to six times every year. It’s an outstanding restaurant and This is Camino is a fabulous cookbook. When I visit family and friends in the Bay Area, I make it a point to eat at a couple of restaurants: Palmento a Dopo (née Dopo) and Camino. Now I can get my Camino fix here on my island in the Salish Sea.

Thursday, September 24, 2015

Budelletti


Entry No. 26 in Oretta Zanini De Vita’s Encyclopedia of Pasta [2009] describes budelletti, a short, flat noodle from Italy’s Le Marche region. You make budelletti, which means “very thin intestines” in Italian, with flour, warm water, a pinch of salt and—surprise—fresh yeast. Of the 310 pasta entries in Zanini De Vita’s Encyclopedia, nine1 contain fresh yeast. Resourceful pasta makers used dough from unbaked bread to create most of these shapes. Why make yeasted pastas today? Speaking on behalf of budelletti, it tastes delicious and has a nice chewy texture that comes from the gluten created by flour, warm water and yeast. The following recipe serves 4.

1. Crumble 8 grams of fresh (cake) yeast into a glass containing 140 grams of tepid water (approximately 70º to 90ºF). Sift 300 grams of 00 flour into the bowl of a standing mixer fitted with a paddle and add a pinch of sea salt. Very slowly pour the water/yeast mixture into the flour and mix on the lowest speed to form a rough dough. Adding the water/yeast mixture slowly helps ensure that the flour will hydrate evenly. Remove the dough from the mixer and knead the dough by hand for about 10 minutes.

2. Lightly dust the dough with flour and place in the middle of a large plastic bag—I use a gallon size Ziploc freezer bag—to allow the dough to rise for 1 hour. (Placing the dough in a sealed plastic bag helps prevent the dough from developing a crusty exterior during its raise.) Remove the dough from the bag and roll out the puffy dough with a rolling pin into a sheet that is approximately 3 to 4 millimeters thick. Let the sheet dry for 20 minutes.

3. Cut the sheet into 10 centimeter-wide strips and then cut across each strip to create very thin (about 2 millimeter wide), flat noodles.

4. Bring a large pot of salted water to a boil. Add the fresh budelletti, stir the pasta and, when the water returns to the boil, cook for approximately 3 minutes. Taste to see if the pasta is ready. If so, drain and add the budelletti to your ready sauce and continue to cook for a minute or so.




What sauce customarily pairs with budelletti? Zanini De Vita writes that budelletti is traditionally served with sauces based on pancetta or pork fat. Guanciale and budelletti match well. However, if you hail from the town of Ascoli Piceno in Le Marche, feel free to dress your budelletti in a tuna sauce—that’s traditional in your town, as you well know.

1. Fresh yeast pasta in the Encyclopedia of Pasta: Budelletti (No. 26); Cecamariti (No. 51); Cordelle sabine (No. 64); Frigulozzi (No. 98); Lunas (No. 136); Offelle (No. 167); Pingiarelle (No. 195); Pizzicotti (No. 199); and Sucamele (No. 261).

Friday, July 10, 2015

Pinzimonio di Ceci


Some outstanding new cookbooks hit our bookstore shelves in June 2015. Little Brown published The Beetlebung Farm Cookbook by Chris Fischer. Fischer worked in some prestigious kitchens, such as Babbo in New York and St. John Bread and The River Café in London, before running his family’s farm on Martha’s Vineyard. The Beetlebung Farm Cookbook features direct, simple dishes made with local ingredients: Beet Salad with Green Tomatoes and Radishes; Baby Leek, Asparagus and Pea Green Soup; Slow-Roasted Lamb Shanks with Parsnips; and Strawberry Shortcake. Fischer (with Catherine Young) penned a very fine work.

Across the pond Mitchell Beazley released Mamushka: Recipes from Ukraine & Beyond by Olia Hercules. Because Armenia is one of the book’s “Beyonds”, Mamushka intrigued me and I’m extremely happy I bought this cookbook. Hercules’s chapters covering fermented pickles and preserves, desserts and drinks stand out as among the best.  And speaking of dessert, here’s a shot of Hercules’s Osyne gnizdo (Wasp Nest Buns). Really good.


And now, let’s move on to the star of this post: Five Quarters: Recipes and Notes from a Kitchen in Rome by Rachel Roddy and published by England’s Saltyard Book Company. Even though I write a food blog, I don’t really read other cooking blogs…expect Roddy’s. Many of my favorite everyday recipes come from her cooking site, Rachel Eats. I understand that a US version of Five Quarters arrives in February 2016, but I couldn’t wait that long. I ordered my copy from overseas and it just arrived. I highly recommend this outstanding cookbook to anyone interested in simple, mostly Italian food.

Roddy lives in Rome’s Testaccio quarter. She writes that “Quinto quarto (the fifth quarter) is the name of the distinctive style of cooking created by the workers of the Testaccio slaughterhouse during the 1890s. Partially paid in kind with offal—which makes up a quarter of the animal’s weight, hence ‘fifth quarter’—the workers (or their wives) found clever ways of transforming their wages into nourishing and tasty meals.”

If offal puts you off, fear not! Roddy’s work isn’t entirely comprised of nose-to-tail dishes. Rather, her book celebrates simple, straightforward food that pretty much anyone can make without a whole bunch of fuss. Roddy culls excellent recipes and advice from locals in Rome, Italian friends and families, and talented food writers, such as Oretta Zanini De Vita, Fergus Henderson, Elizabeth David, Rose Gray and Ruth Rogers.

Five Quarters contains so many excellent recipes that it’s hard to know where to begin cooking. Stand outs include: Fettuccine con Burro e Alici (Fettuccine with Butter and Anchovies) that I remember cooking from a Rachael Eats post; Pasta e Lenticchie (Pasta and Lentil Soup), and Pinzimonio di Ceci (Chickpeas with Greens).

Let me quickly lament that some of my all-time favorite recipes from Roddy’s blog did not make it into her book. So I’ll just have to continue to visit Rachel Eats to find the recipe for Spaghetti with Anchovy Bread Crumbs and Eleonore’s Polpette, an AMAZINGLY delicious dish of small breaded meatballs fried and then finished with white wine.

If forced to pick my favorite recipe from Five Quarters, I choose Pinzimonio di Ceci or Chickpeas with Greens. I make some variation of this dish a handful of times every month. The original recipe comes from The River Café Cook Book (entitled Rogers Grey Italian Country Cookbook (1995) here in the States). Roddy writes that her copy of The River Café Cook Book “falls open at page 172” where you’ll find this recipe. She continues: “[t]he combination of the soft greens,…sweet and tender nubs of carrots and onion, heat from the chilli and depth from the wine and tomato is a full and delicious one.” Hear, hear! The dish serves 6.

600 g greens, preferably Swiss chard
1 red onion
2 carrots
5 tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil, plus extra to serve
1 dried chilli, crumbled
250 ml white wine
2 tablespoons tomato passata, or 1 tablespoon concentrate
400g cooked chickpeas
a generous handful of chopped flat-leaf parsley
juice of ½ lemon
salt and freshly ground black pepper

Bring a large pan of well-salted water to a fast boil, add the greens and blanch them briefly. The timing will depend on the greens; spring greens take 3-5 minutes. Taste them to check. Drain them well, and once they are cool enough to handle, chop them coarsely and set aside.

Chop the onion and carrots. Warm the oil in a heavy-based sauté pan, add the onion, carrots and a pinch of salt and cook them slowly for 15 minutes, or until tender. Season with a little more salt and pepper and add the crumbled chilli. Add the wine to the pan and allow it to bubble away until it has almost completely reduced. Add the tomato passata or concentrate, greens and chickpeas, stir and cook, stirring every couple of minutes for 10 minutes.

Add three-quarters of the chopped parsley and the lemon juice, stir, remove from the heat and allow to sit for 10 minutes. Transfer to a large platter or serving plate, sprinkle with the remaining parsley and a little more extra-virgin olive oil, and serve.


Some notes and observations. Roddy writes that the dish is a meal in itself (and it is), but she will add some ricotta on the side or even an egg on top (which is a brilliant idea). I typically serve these chickpeas and greens over couscous or Japanese semi-brown rice. I’ve tried the dish using Swiss chard, kale, spinach, collard greens, beet greens and even stinging nettles. I like the spinach version best because of its soft, melting texture. I usually add celery to the onion and carrot battuto. I sometimes use chicken stock in place of the wine (and skip the lemon juice). In short, play with this recipe and adjust it to suit your taste.

I know that ordering a heavy cookbook from overseas costs a lot, but in the case of Five Quarters, I believe this fine book warrants the outlay. So far 2015 looks like a great year for cookbooks: first, Pasta by Hand (here); now Five Quarters; and on the horizon, This is Camino by Russell Moore.