Culinary adventures

Given the vast (read "slightly more than usual") amount of free time we have this summer, a couple friends and I decided to spend a leisurely Saturday afternoon in the kitchen. We were interested in trying out this recipe for homemade ricotta, and, also anxious to use up a pound of CSA chard, decided to cook up a Swiss Chard Lasagna with Ricotta and Mushroom.  For dessert we had Apfelstrudel, which I learned to make from an Austrian friend whose grandmother taught her.  I've vowed not to write down a recipe (and I don't even know know specific ingredient amounts), always relying on my learning experience.  Let me know if you'd like me to pass it on to you!

Making the ricotta cheese was very easy.  You boil milk and cream to a certain temperature, stir in lemon juice, let it sit, and then strain.  After an hour or two we were left with about 16 oz. of cheese and a few cups of whey.  We used some of the whey in place of water in a loaf of white bread, but it has many culinary uses, and even as the basis for a soda in the cheese-making-and-thus-whey-overload-having country of Switzerland.




















The  lasagna turned out quite well though incredibly rich (especially with the homemade ricotta).  I actually like and recommend this other (and lighter) vegetable lasagna just as much.  The new recipe had the very interesting addition of nutmeg to the sauce, and I think that would work quite well in either recipe.  One could also replace the spinach with chard in the latter and add mushrooms.

Thanks friends for your hard work!!

Tales of an Italian grocery, Austrian wine, Polish sausage, and chard.

Today I headed down to the local farmers' market to pick up some eggs, a basil plant, and to get a knife sharpened by a man who claims to be one of only two knife-sharpeners in town (and he says he often gets dissatisfied customers from the other guy!).  After acquiring said items and achieving said knife-sharpness, I ventured across the street to a small grocery that I'd frequently passed and always written off as a small store that probably didn't carry much and overall was probably not great.  You see, contrary to my expectations, I'd seen it referenced online as a great little Italian shop.  And indeed it is.  This place is immaculate inside, and carries all kinds of imported goods as well as the basics.  Shelf after shelf of cheeses and wines, pastas and sauces.  Organic dairy and meat products.  I discovered that they carried two different Grüner Veltliners, an Austrian wine that I'd recently heard about and was eager to try. (It lived up to my expectations, especially in pairing well with a variety of foods.  See this interesting article on the wine.)  I only wonder now if biking to the farmers' market (and this grocery) is out of the question, seeing as I'll probably be returning with more than in the past.

Thus armed with a 2009 Laurenz Singing Grüner Veltliner, parmesan, and pasta, and knowing that CSA chard and garlic scapes awaited me in my refrigerator, I set off on the seas of the internet in search of a recipe.  I wound up making Pasta with Kielbasa and Swiss Chard, and it turned out quite well.  Below is the recipe with my adaptations.



Pasta with Kielbasa and Swiss Chard

adapted from Gourmet

• 3/4 pound Swiss chard (1 bunch)
• 1/2 pound kielbasa, quartered lengthwise, then cut crosswise into 1/2-inch-thick pieces
• 2 tablespoons olive oil
• 1/2 teaspoon sea salt
• 2 garlic cloves, finely chopped (or 3 garlic scapes, chopped; if using scapes, cook them with the chard stems)
• 1/2 cup water
• 1/2 teaspoon dried hot red-pepper flakes
• 1/2 pound penne
• 1/4 cup white wine
• 1/2 cup grated Parmesan, plus more for serving

Begin boiling salted water for pasta.  Wash chard leaves.  Cut out center ribs and stems and chop into 1/2 inch pieces. Chop leaves coarsely.  Begin cooking pasta, being sure to reserve 1/4 cup cooking water before draining.

Cook kielbasa in oil in a 5-quart heavy pot over moderately high heat, stirring occasionally, until golden, 3 to 5 minutes. Transfer with a slotted spoon to a bowl. Cook chard ribs and stems with salt in fat remaining in pot (add a bit more olive oil if necessary) over moderate heat, stirring occasionally, about 3 minutes. Add garlic and cook, stirring, 1 minute. Add chard leaves, water, and red-pepper flakes and simmer, partially covered, until chard stems are tender, about 5 minutes. Remove lid and stir in kielbasa. 

Add pasta to chard mixture with cheese, wine, and salt to taste and toss until combined well. Thin with some of reserved pasta water if necessary.  Serve with extra cheese.

Remember Those Radishes?

Remember those radishes I got from my CSA?  Well I ate one raw, and was again reminded that I really don't like to eat radishes.  I discovered that you can cook them in various ways (sauté, boil, steam, roast, etc.) and it removes their characteristic bite.  Some folks might think this removes the reason to eat a radish in the first place, but I'm glad to have found a way I can eat them.  It's better than a slow death by rotting in the vegetable bin!  You'll find the first recipe I tried below.  If my farmer shows up with more radishes on Thursday there's another recipe I have in mind.  This one worked out pretty well, though.

Butter-Braised Radishes with Their Greens

Adapted from The Flexitarian Table

1 large bunch of radishes
3 T butter
1 tsp brown sugar
1/2 tsp sea salt
1 T white wine vinegar
Freshly ground black pepper
Freshly grated nutmeg.

Cut leaves from radishes, leaving about a 1/2 inch of greens on the radishes.  Wash greens and chop very coarsely. (I accidentally neglected the latter part of that! I do think it would bet better with the greens chopped slightly, otherwise they come out rather stringy).  Cut larger radishes in half or even quarters, if necessary, to achieve uniform size.

In a medium saucepan (I think I used about a 7-inch one, after first starting with something way too big [see photo]) melt the butter, brown sugar and salt over medium heat, then add the water and radishes and bring to boil. Lower heat and simmer until radishes are slightly cooked (so they can be pierced with little pressure with a knife but not mushy), about 3-5 minutes.

Place greens over the radishes, cover pan, and simmer gently until greens are emerald color and tender, about 5 minutes.  Remove greens and radishes and transfer to a bowl.  (It's good to get as much liquid out of the greens if possible, placing them on paper towels or draining them in a colander.  Just don't discard the liquid!)

Add vinegar, pepper, and nutmeg to the pan liquid and boil uncovered until it becomes syrupy, about 5 minutes (They originally said two minutes, but that was certainly not long enough.  I was never pleased with the consistency and might even use some cornstarch next time to artificially thicken it). Season to taste with salt and/or sugar.  Coat the radishes and greens with the sauce and serve.

Landwirtschaftsgemeinschaftshof

Today I picked up the first supply of produce from a local farm that a couple friends and I are supporting through a Community-Supported Agriculture (CSA) program.  That word in the title is the German equivalent;  I can't quite put my finger on a good translation, but it means something like agricultural-community-farm.  CSA originally developed in Germany, Switzerland, and Japan in the 1960s.  The idea is that a group of consumers get together and provide financial support for a local farm at the beginning of the growing season, and in return are provided with seasonal produce for a set number of weeks.  CSA is good for the farmer because it spreads out the inherent risk in farming between all of the "subscribers" and also drastically reduces marketing and distribution costs.  We subscribers agree to take whatever the farm grows--unfortunately, that means I might have to learn to like radishes.  But ultimately we get high quality, seasonal, organic produce (even if it's not officially certified, it usually measures up to the requirements) from a member of our own community that we see on a weekly basis.  And did I say that it's fresh?  And delicious?  Everything I got today was picked only a few hours earlier on a farm only a few miles away--lettuce, spinach, radishes (she suggested sauteing the greens in olive oil and garlic; I might try this, too), chives, parsley, oregano, cucumbers, scallions, and snow peas.

It's only the beginning of the season, so check out www.localharvest.org to find your own local CSA.  I'm a firm believer!

Update

It's summer now for me, which, though I have plenty of work, means more time to make things and update this blog!  Our community garden is unfortunately going to be late, but should be getting started soon, as well.

Yesterday one of my friends came over and we tackled homemade ravioli.  We started around 5:30 and finished around 8:30 (though that included a run to the grocery store for some forgotten ingredients).  It took a good bit of elbow grease as we didn't have a pasta machine, but it worked nonetheless!

We followed a great pasta-making tutorial from here and here, and filled the ravioli with this delicious butternut squash-goat cheese puree.  The only things I'd do differently from the recipes are a) use less salt when roasting the squash, leaving room to season the filling later and b) use half semolina flour in the pasta.  We used 100% all-purpose (which she says is allowable), but the texture was not terribly firm and made it harder to control the shape of the pasta.  Semolina flour is supposed to be sturdier.

The ravioli was accompanied by roasted purple asparagus I picked up on a trip to the farmers' market on Saturday.  I couldn't resist the tables piled high with local asparagus--both green and purple--and stopped to ask the owner of one stand what the difference between them was.  He told me to find out for myself, and proceeded to slice off part of a stalk and hand it over.  In general it tasted like--you guessed it--asparagus, though perhaps a little milder.  According to Wikipedia, the purple cultivar was developed in the region around Albenga, Italy, and is higher in sugar and lower in fiber than its green counterpart.  Sadly, it turns green after prolonged cooking, though apparently a quick sauté will not affect the color.

Baklava

I've read that many ethnic groups lay claim to the development of baklava, the most legitimate probably being the Turkics.  I'm particularly attached to the Greeks' claim, though, having often ordered baklava at Christo's, a tiny restaurant frequented by my friends and I on sojourns into Pittsburgh during college.  Get out of a symphony concert and not want to abandon the allure of the city quite yet?  Need a location for some good conversation, and perhaps a little caffeine for the return drive up north?  Christo's it was.

Here's the version I make, tweaked from one on allrecipes.com.

Baklava

• 1 (16 ounce) package phyllo dough, thawed in refrigerator
• 1 pound nuts roasted and chopped finely (use a mix of pistachios, walnuts, almonds, and/or pecans)
• 1 cup butter, melted
• 1 teaspoon cinnamon
• 1 1/2 cups water
• 1 1/2 cups sugar
• 1 1/2 teaspoons vanilla
• 3/4 cup honey

1. Preheat oven to 325 degrees.  Butter the bottoms and sides of a 9x13 inch pan.
2. In medium saucepan, boil sugar and water until sugar is melted.  Add vanilla and honey and simmer for 20 minutes.  Place in refrigerator to cool.
3. Toss nuts with cinnamon and set aside. Unroll phyllo dough, and if necessary cut stack in half to fit pan.  Place two sheets of dough in pan and brush with melted butter. Repeat three more times and sprinkle 1/4 to 1/3 c. nuts on last layer.
4. Top with two sheets of dough, butter, and nuts, layering as you go.  Repeat approx. six more times.
5.  End with a top layer of about 6-8 sheets phyllo and brush with butter.
6. Using a sharp knife cut diamond or square shapes all the way to the bottom of the pan.  Bake for about 45-50 minutes until baklava is golden and crisp. (You may need to cover with tin foil after approx. 20-30 minutes to prevent burning.)
8.  Remove baklava from oven and immediately pour sauce over it. Let cool.

Apple-Butternut Squash Soup

I have the good fortune of having a friend whose family can produce a serious amount (read = 900 pounds) of produce in a season in their garden.  On more than one occasion I've visited said friend only to return with a butternut squash from their pantry, and this is what I developed the first time that happened.  It's become one of my favorite recipes--a thick, slightly sweet soup with just enough cayenne to provide a little heat.  It's also a great way to make something fresh in the dead of winter!

Apple-Butternut Squash Soup

• 2 tablespoons butter
• 1 medium onion, diced
• 1 large carrot, peeled and chopped
• 2 medium potatoes, peeled and cubed
• 2 green apples, peeled and cubed
• 1 large butternut squash (3-4 lb.), peeled, seeded, and cubed
• 3 cups chicken stock
• 2 cups apple juice
• 1/2 teaspoon ground ginger
• 1/4 teaspoon cayenne pepper
• 1/4 teaspoon black pepper
• 1/4+ teaspoon nutmeg
• salt to taste
• sour cream to garnish
• optional ingredients: celery (be forewarned that it may leave strings), coriander, cumin, jalapeno peppers

1. Melt butter in large saucepan.  Saute onion and carrot for 5 minutes.  Add potatoes, apples, and squash, and saute for 5 more minutes.

2. Add stock, juice, and spices.  Bring to a boil, reduce heat and simmer for approx. 30 minutes, or until the vegetables are very soft.

3. Puree in batches in a food processor or blender until smooth and return to saucepan.  If desired, adjust consistency with more stock, juice, or water.

4.  Garnish with sour cream and herbs.

Makes approximately 3 1/2 quarts.