Category Archives: cooking

Whole Wheat Linguine with Leeks and Parsley

If you’ve been here a while, you know that as much as I love  playing with new and unusual ingredients, I also can’t make too big a production about things most days. While I do try to cook my meals “from scratch,” I don’t take that to mean anything onerous.  Nope–I need something simple that I can pull together quickly.  Arrive home, get it started, play with my kids and put them to bed, then finish up my dinner and eat.  At times I have to log back into work after that.

So a big meal with lots of fanfare isn’t going to happen most nights.  Since I’m usually just cooking for myself, who do I have to impress? If just myself, then good enough.

There can be a lot of exaggeration in food websites when we try to convey the tastes and aromas of a dish through words, or cajole a reader to trust some random amorphous blogger with feeding their family.  And with that, while I’m not going so far as to call it full-contact food blogging (something like my family’s “full contact Jeopardy” screenings), you can sometimes get the feeling that every dish you read about is the non plus ultra, the dish that will change your life, the meal you must eat for your life to have meaning.

Whole Wheat Linguine with Leeks and Parsley (3 of 3)

So even though I’ve been making this dish for ages, I’ve never actually written it up.  It was just too everyday, run of the mill I thought.  You know, just another pasta recipe.  And all you do is saute leeks with a few other ingredients and mix with pasta.  And the coup de grace is nothing more than tossing a big ol’ handful of chopped fresh parsley on top.  Yes, parsley.  Not freshly picked  basil or oregano or French tarragon, but boring old parsley–so pedestrian that it was abundant even when no one was telling you that using dried herbs was anathema.

So, maybe this doesn’t qualify under Generally Accepted Blogging Principles as “Blog-Worthy,” but it’s a real lifesaver for me sometimes–if I have too many leeks that are starting to lose their perkiness (seems to happen a lot), if I just need something I can throw together quickly without too much effort (mental or otherwise), or if I just want a clean, bright pasta dish that’s not too heavy.

And it works together well:  I love how the silky leeks and the astringent parsley blend with whole wheat pasta.  You actually want to use whole wheat pasta because, for whatever reason, it tastes so much better than regular pasta here.  I’ll admit I usually reach for the regular refined stuff, and the fact that I don’t want to is just one more plus about this combination.

Fast, easy, and I even get to feel virtuous.   I guess I did impress myself.

Whole Wheat Linguine with Leeks and Parsley (2 of 3)

Whole Wheat Linguine with Leeks and Parsley adapted from Mark Bittman’s How to Cook Everything

  • 4-6 medium leeks
  • 3T butter or olive oil
  • 2 dried chiles, or 1/2t (or more) chile flakes
  • 2 cloves garlic, minced
  • 3/4 cup chopped parsley
  • 3/4lb (or amount desired) whole wheat linguine
Cut each leek almost in half lengthwise, leaving the root intact.  Fan the halves open and wash under running water to remove any sand.  Slice the washed halves crosswise (slices about 1/4″ thick) to roughly chop.
Set a pot of water to bring to a boil.
Heat the olive oil or butter over medium low.  Add the chile and saute for one minute, then add the leeks.  When the leeks have begun to color (about five minutes) add the minced garlic.  Season with salt and pepper. Continue cooking until the leeks are soft.  Cook the leeks over gentle heat, their mellow flavor is best if you don’t allow them to crisp.
While the leeks are cooking, chop your parsley.
Cook the linguine and drain.  Once the leeks are done, remove the chiles and stir the leek mixture together with the pasta.  Right before serving, stir in the parsley.    (You might want to add more freshly ground pepper which complements the flavors nicely).

Roasted Squash and Brussels Sprouts Salad

I don’t know when it happened, but somehow my concept of “salad” has been evolving away from leafy, light, and most of all green.  I hardly ever buy those bags of prewashed lettuce anymore (even fancy arugula or mesclun!), whereas once they were a mainstay for me.  I still buy healthy cruciferous vegetables for my salads, but now they tend to be the type that takes well to roasting, braising, or wilting:  we’re talking kale, broccoli rabe, or cabbage.  They then get tossed with hearty roots or squash, and chewy wheat berries or brown rice.  Rather than cool and crisp, these salads need to be served room temperature or even slightly warm.  I think the only thing this has in common with the more typical approach to salad that the mix of flavors and textures is bound together by a salty-sweet-smooth vinaigrette.

This salad I’m going to tell you about continues in my new vein.  I roasted chunks of squash and chopped brussels sprouts in the oven, while a pot of brown rice simmered and steamed its way to tenderness on the stove.  Meanwhile, to bring out the sweet caramelized flavors of these vegetables, I made a pomegranate molasses vinaigrette.

Roasted Brussels Sprouts and Winter Squash Salad (3 of 3)

Pomegranate molasses is an intense syrup made by boiling down pomegranate juice until thick and viscous–you can do it on your own, but unless you have a source for affordable pomegranate juice, it would be prohibitively expensive.  (But if you do have a source, please let me know!)  Much easier to buy it in the middle eastern section of the grocery store or online.  I’m always searching for interesting uses for it, and it occurred to me that its acid tang could brighten a winter salad.  I chose apple cider vinegar to complement the fruity notes of the molasses while cutting its intense sweetness.  A little salt, a healthy glug of olive oil, and your dressing is ready.

For a stunning visual effect I garnished with pomegranate seeds–I love the way they are both chewy and yet burst in your mouth, and their unusual mix of flavors:  an almost berry-like flavor with a gently bitter finish.  To prepare your own, cut the pomegranate in half and hold over a bowl while you use your fingertips to massage the seeds out.   Remove any white membrane that falls into the bowl and discard.  There’s one additional tip that I find indispensable–wear something you don’t mind staining.  This juice is dark and red and no matter how careful you are seems to squirt everywhere as you fish out the fruit.  An apron is just not enough.  (Or, I’m particularly messy, which is a possibility that cannot be discounted).

Roasted Brussels Sprouts and Winter Squash Salad (2 of 3)

You don’t have to use the pomegranate seeds, but they are a nice touch.  Persephone found them tempting enough to get herself stuck six months of the year in the underworld, but I promise there’s no downside for you.

Either way, this turned out to be a great addition to my growing repertoire of hearty salads.  Unlike a green salad, you can make it in quantity and, find that the flavors have improved and melded the next day.  Perfect for stocking your lunchbox for the week, and for not leaving you hungry.   Rabbit food it most definitely is not.

Roasted Squash and Brussels Sprouts Salad with Pomegranate Molasses Dressing

Note:  All the ingredients are approximate–tweak and adjust to suit your taste.

  • 2c cubed squash (approximately 1/2 inch pieces)
  • 1c brussels sprouts, cut in half
  • 2 t pomegranate molasses
  • 2T apple cider vinegar
  • 6T olive oil
  • 1 cup brown rice
  • salt and pepper for seasoning
  • pomegranate seeds for garnish (optional)

To roast the vegetables, preheat the oven to 425.  Toss the squash with a little olive oil and salt and spread on a rimmed cookie sheet.  Do the same on a second cookie sheet with the brussels sprouts.  Roast for about 20 minutes or until the squash is tender and the sprouts are wilted and even a bit crisp at the edges.

While you are doing this, cook your rice.   I use Saveur’s method, as modified by Pinch my Salt.

Make your vinaigrette:  whisk together the pomegranate molasses, vinegar, and a pinch of salt, then whisk the in the olive oil, adding it in a thin stream.  I always mix the vinaigrette in my serving bowl–that way there’s plenty of room to mix the dressing, then I add the salad ingredients.

Allows the the rice, squash, and brussels sprouts to cool slightly, then mix together with the dressing.  Adjust for salt.  Sprinkle with pomegranate seeds if desired.

Roasted Brussels Sprouts and Winter Squash Salad (1 of 3)

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Vietnamese Braised Short Ribs

I told you all about this fantastic cooking class that I took (for those of you that don’t remember or didn’t read about it in an earlier blog–it’s at the Brooklyn Kitchen). The class was a couple of weeks ago and I finally got around to cooking my first item from the class. The short ribs that the cook made were by far, my favorite. The sweet tangy ribs were oh-so addictive. In fact, I actually ate all the fat off the bones as well as the meat. This is not my typical style, but it was essential this time.

So, my husband and I took a trip out to the butcher and picked up 3 pounds of beef short ribs cut to 2 and a half inches.

The biggest thing to remember about braising anything is that you need to allocate an afternoon or an evening to cooking it. We had a bit of a snow storm on this particular day so it was the perfect opportunity to stay indoors for the evening.

Some tips that the cook Matt Greene told us about braising that I didn’t know is to season, season, season. Everytime you enter a big step in the process you are to make sure you aggressively add salt and pepper. I also learned some other great tips like: Use grapeseed oil instead of olive oil because it has a milder, less overpowering taste.

The main seasoning to use in this dish (besides a good amount of salt and pepper) is 5 spice mix. This is the ultimate seasoning for this meat. It brings so much flavor. It’s a mix of cinnamon, ground fennel seed, ground clove, and ground star anise and paprika. I was happy to find out about this type of mix because it would have been pricey to buy all of some of these seasonings that I doubt I’d use again.

After this adventure, I was too tired to make some elaborate side dish. So, what was on the recipe? White rice. It didn’t matter to my husband. He was extremely pleased with the meal and I was too, however, it didn’t have as strong of that tangy taste that I had at my class. What was I expecting though-perfection on the first try? Doubtful.

I never thought I’d be one to cook such heavy meat. I also never thought I’d be one to really be excited about seeing meat “fall off the bone” (as the chef told us it would do and that would be the signal that the meat was ready to eat). But, I really enjoyed making this meal. Growing up in the Clevering household we always ate very healthy. I’m very, very thankful for this and when I cook I usually look for more healthy options. Every once in a while though…it’s nice to have something sinful like this cooking up in your kitchen.

Sauteed Broccoli Rabe and Potatoes

Have you noticed by now that people are trying to convince you to do just about everything with bacon?  Sometimes it’s simple (candied bacon), sometimes it could occasion a little eyebrow raising (though you can’t write it off if it’s David Lebovitz‘s bacon ice cream), and sometimes it’s just not going to ever happen in my kitchen (bacon vodka).  But it does make for amusing reading, if nothing else–click here and here if you want to see just how outlandish it can get.

(And yes, I can’t deny it, we are all susceptible: I did after all make bacon spice cookies a while back.  It’s no fun to be Serious Cuisine all the time is it?)

So–even with everyone jumping on this bacon bandwagon, using lard or bacon fat is still a bit out there.  (When did you last eat an apple pie made with lard?)  But even though it’s head-spinning to try to keep up with these things, it looks as if these animal fats aren’t quite so bad, or at least not in comparison with their trans-fat laden substitutes. (My crude understanding of this being to stay away from vegetable fats that are solid at room temperature).

Broccoli Rabe Potatoes in Bacon Fat (2 of 2)

I don’t know if I was inspired by healthier living (nor can I really say that with a straight face, we’re talking pork fat here), an attempt at kitchen frugality, or just this bacon craze, but I’ve recently been saving the (massive amounts of) drippings that render from our CSA bacon.  As this bacon is from heritage breed  pigs, it is by no stretch of the imagination lean.  But it’s amazingly good.  So good, that why would I not want to draw out the flavors of a Sunday breakfast through the week, especially if I can convince myself I’m being virtuous by, well, um, using bacon drippings?

I’ve made broccoli rabe pan-fried with potatoes many times since I first read about it on Leite’s Culinaria.  The slightly bitter but fresh tasting rabe with crisped soft potatoes is a perfectly rib-sticking winter food.   The original recipe is from Julia della Croce’s Italian Home Cooking and thus calls for olive oil.  I’ve found that it’s equally wonderful with bacon fat–all those meaty aromas melding into your potatoes and flavoring your greens.  Either way, it’s just right for mid-January.  And I guess it means I’m trendy.

Broccoli Rabe Potatoes in Bacon Fat (1 of 2)

Sautéed Broccoli Rabe and Potatoes, inspired by and adapted from Julia Della Croce’s recipe available here or here

Note:  The original recipe uses olive oil, so if you don’t like, don’t have, or just don’t eat pork, fear not as I can assure it’s equally wonderful either way.

  • 2 Yukon Gold or similar potatoes, unpeeled
  • 1 bunch broccoli rabe
  • salt
  • 4-6 tablespoons bacon fat or extra-virgin olive oil
  • 6 large garlic cloves, smashed and peeled

Put the potatoes in a deep bot and cover with cold water to cover by an inch.  Bring to a boil, and then reduce heat to gently boil for about 20 minutes until the potatoes are just tender when pierced with a knife (total time will depend upon the size of the potato).  Lift the potatoes out of the water (don’t drain the water but rather leave it in the pot as you will be using it momentarily).  Allow the potatoes to cool.

Trim the rabe:  cut the hard ends off and (ideally) peel the stalks with a vegetable peeler.  Cut off the florets and then chop the stems into 3-inch chunks.  Return the potato water to a boil, adding the salt and extra water if needed.  Then add the stalks, boil for 2-3 minutes, then add the florets, and cook 2-3 minutes more, until  stalks are tender but not mushy.  Note this blanching process doesn’t just cook the rabe but also draws out bitterness.

Peel the skin off the potatoes–it will come off easily using your fingertips alone and cut each potato into 1/4 to 1/2 inch thick pieces.

In a large skillet, heat the fat or oil over medium heat.  Add the garlic and saute gently until soft, just a few minutes, and remove the garlic to a bowl.

Raise the heat to medium-high.  When it is hot, (and only when it is hot; this helps prevent sticking and promotes crispiness) add the potatoes, and sauté until they are golden and crisp all over, about 10 minutes.   Add the rabe and garlic cloves, and continue to saute until the greens are well-coated with the fat or oil and are heated through.

Adjust for seasoning and serve.

Spicy Tomato Soup

Was one of my New Year’s Resolutions to post more frequently?  No–phew-that was Karen.  Because I’m not off to a good start.  And what’s more, I’m posting about something I made w-a-y back last year (which, to be fair, was only a few weeks ago, but why not play it up for dramatic effect).

We were down in DC for Christmas, at my husband’s parents’ house.  My sister-in-law’s copy of Boston restauranteur Barbara Lynch’s cookbook Stir  has taken up semi-permanent residence in their house thanks to her currently reduced kitchen space.  For me this works out well since it means I get a chance to have a good look at it while I am down there.  (Yes, I go to other people’s houses and read their cookbooks.  Is that weird? It’s better than raiding the medicine cabinet).  

My mother-in-law has the typical list on the fridge, except it’s not quite what you’d expect:  rather than writing down the things that need to be picked up on the next trip to the grocery store, it’s a list entitled, things we have too much of.  A “do not buy” list.  You see, my father in law likes to stock up on those staples that don’t go bad, so there are always plenty of dried beans, boxes of pasta, and 28-ounce cans of plum tomatoes.

Canned tomatoes on the do-not-buy list.  Spicy tomato soup in in-law’s cookbook.  In need of a light meal after Christmas excess.  Bingo!

Spicy Tomato Soup (4 of 4)

There are many things that are fantastic about this soup.  First, it’s tremendously pantry-friendly (I suppose that goes without saying) and easy to pull together.  Onions, canned tomatoes, olive oil, and seasonings.  I used dried oregano instead of fresh basil, and in a soup like this it worked just perfectly, as the slow gentle simmer allows the herbs plenty of time to release their flavor into the liquid.

Not only that, it’s a real two-fer.  After you puree and strain the soup, you can save the leftover pulp to make a fiery bruschetta spread for crusty bread or (as Barbara Lynch suggests) even use it to top roasted eggplant.

Spicy Tomato Soup (3 of 4)

It’s a delicious soup that manages to be elegant yet homey at the same time.  And thanks to the red pepper flakes, it’s also peppy. And I was almost surprised by how much I liked it:  sometimes tomato soups can be a little too sweet.  I don’t know if it’s the onions or the hot pepper that tones this down, or both, but the flavors are perfectly calibrated.  It’s a real treat to enjoy vibrant tomato flavor in the middle of winter.  A nice dollop of creme fraiche or sour cream on top doesn’t hurt either.

Spicy Tomato Soup (2 of 4)

And now my father-in-law can buy more canned tomatoes.

Spicy Tomato Soup adapted from Stir: Mixing It Up in the Italian Tradition by Barbara Lynch, original recipe also available on www.chow.com or with a video of Lynch demonstrating here.

Although we did not make the grilled cheese sandwich to go along with the soup, enjoying instead some gruyere and cured meats, you can find the recipe here.  I’ll definitely be trying it soon–the method looks so easy and straightforward.

If you’re wavering on how much red pepper to use, I’ll let you know that I used 1 1/2 teaspoons–and while I loved it, I’ll just say I definitely won’t be adding more in the future.

  • 2 tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil
  • 1 small yellow onion, peeled, halved, and sliced into 1/4-inch-thick slices
  • 1 t dried oregano
  • 1 to 1 1/2 teaspoons red pepper flakes
  • 2 (28-ounce) cans whole tomatoes (preferably Italian plum tomatoes)
  • 1 1/2 cups water
  • Kosher salt
  • Freshly ground black pepper
  • Crème fraîche or sour cream for garnish

Heat the olive oil in a large saucepan over medium heat until hot. Add the onions red pepper flakes, and oregano and cook, stirring occasionally, until the onions are soft, about 10 minutes.

Pour in the tomatoes, including the juices, and the water.  Bring to a boil. Reduce the heat to low and simmer, stirring occasionally, until the flavors have melded, about 30 minutes. Season with salt and pepper, remove from the heat, and let cool briefly, about 5 minutes.

Balance a fine-mesh strainer over a large, heatproof bowl. In a blender, purée the soup in batches until smooth.  (If using a blender, remove the pour lid from teh center of the lid and cover with a kitchen towel–this will allow steam to escape from the hot soup so the pour lid doesn’t pop off).  Pour the blended soup through the strainer, pressing the liquid out of the pulp.  Reserve this pulp to use to top bread or as a condiment.  Taste the soup and season with additional salt and pepper as needed.

When you strain, a few tips:  it’s easier to do so strain in batches.  Holding the strainer that is increasingly weighed down by pulp gets heavy fast.  You can of course balance it over the bowl, but when that bowl is so full of strained soup that the base of your strainer is immersed in it, it’s time to remove it to another bowl or you’re not going to get anywhere.  Finally, if you stir the soup in the strainer, it helps push the liquid through more quickly, then press the pulp when most of the liquid is through to get out the last bits.

Return the soup to the saucepan and reheat on medium low until hot.  (Beware of reheating purees other than gently–it will look and act like molten lava).  A dollop of sour cream or creme fraiche makes a nice garnish.

Spicy Tomato Soup (1 of 4)

Roasted Winter Vegetable and Wheat Berry Salad

The holiday season may not be quite wrapped up yet, but I doubt I’m alone in my sense that it’s time to dial things back a little.  As much as it goes by quickly, the holiday season is also long, and (I’m about to sound crochety here) it just seems to be getting longer.  The supposed one-month period from Thanksgiving to New Years now seems to start even earlier–Halloween just barely staunching a trickle of advertisements that finally gushes forth November 1st.

With two young kids, my New Year’s version of tying it on varies between either heading to bed at 10:30 or 11:00.  If I’m not in bed before midnight, it will only be because I’ve accidentally passed out on the couch (from fatigue, not liquor).   So I’ve already moved on to first phase of post-holidays, which is trying to eat a bit lighter and do things a bit more low-key, in attempt to balance out Christmas platters of sin, my mother-in-law’s whiskey sours, and a frenzy of toys.  (I’m hearing the twittering of zhu zhu pets in my dreams…)

So on this blog, in anticipation of the New Year, there are no how-tos for punch bowls bejeweled with a fruit-studded floating ice rings, tiers of cleverly arranged canapes, or how-tos on the perfect cheese platter (but wow, can I get an invite to that party?)  Instead, here’s a recipe that’s easy to execute when you just don’t have the energy-mental or physical-to tackle much of anything.  It’s filling without being heavy, and can pull together whatever disparate mix of leftovers you may still have lingering (loitering?) in your refrigerator.  And if it also takes up residence in the fridge, I find that its flavors meld and get even better the next day.

It’s my take on a  recipe posted on one of the best food blogs out there, David Lebovitz.  (Did you know?  He doesn’t just post sweet recipes–his savory ones are just as mouthwatering).

Roasted Root Vegetable and Wheat Berry Salad (2 of 2)

Now of course I’m not arrogant enough to claim I’ve one-upped Lebovitz.  But it’s such a simple recipe and so infinitely adaptable, and so just right for where we are this time of year that I think it deserves a little play here on Three Clever Sisters.  I’ve pared it down even more than the original recipe and it’s still delicious; but if you’re more ambitious Lebovitz has plenty of suggestions on his blog for amping it up.  What’s perhaps nicest is it’s more method than recipe (everything in this recipe is approximate and fudgeable), and an unfussy way to eat seasonally when it’s most challenging–winter.  The contrast of textures–the nubby chewiness of the wheat berries against the tender roasted vegetables, is perfect comfort, and using preserved lemon adds the kind of vibrant, umami flavor you usually turn to cheese for.  (Yes, New Years resolution-makers, this is vegan!)

And a side note on a trick I’ve recently learned for making easier work of the chopping and peeling.  My personal bugaboo is dealing with winter squash.  No matter how sharp my knife is, it’s always a battle (and I don’t like my odds in knife fights).  However, thanks to googling as well as some suggestions from people on our facebook page, I’ve started microwaving butternuts and their cousins for a few minutes before chopping, and it really does help.  (You could also put it in the oven for a bit).  It seems to generally require a few minutes in total, but I zap in one-minute increments to avoid overdoing it.  I also always make a few slits before starting so that no steam builds up in the vegetable while heating.  I don’t know if it would explode like a potato, but I don’t know want to know either.

As for peeling, I’ve been using a serrated peeler on recommendation from my mother-in-law, and to my amazement it make wonderfully easy work of removing the peel.  A reason I was extra glad to find a second one in my Christmas stocking this year.

Roasted Root Vegetable and Wheat Berry Salad (1 of 2)

Roasted Winter Vegetable and Wheat Berry Salad

  • 1 1/2 c wheat berries or farro
  • one bay leaf
  • 2 pounds assorted root vegetables; I used kuri squash, parsnips, and celery root, you could also use carrots, rutabagas, any winter squash, or salsify, peeled and cut into 1/2″ cubes.  (More importantly, make sure that all cubes are of similar size so they roast evenly).
  • 1 large red onion, peeled and diced
  • 1/3 c plus 2 tablespoons olive oil
  • 10 or so branches of fresh thyme (I used 2 teaspoons or so of dried thyme).
  • salt and freshly-ground black pepper
  • finely chopped preserved lemon or lime, or the juice of a fresh lemon.

Preheat the oven to 425ºF.

Put the wheat berries in a pot and add salted water to cover by one inch.  Bring to a boil, then reduce to a simmer.  Cook until tender but still chewy, about 40 minutes to an hour.

While the wheat berries are cooking, mix the diced vegetables and onion together in a large bowl. Add 2 tablepsoons of olive oil and thyme and season with salt and pepper.  Use your hands to mix evenly.  Spread out on two rimmed baking sheets, and place in the oven to roast until tender.  (Test each type of vegetable; I found that celeriac took longer than the parsnips and squash).  Stir every once or twice while roasting.  It should take around twenty minutes to a half hour but will vary.

When the wheat berries are done, drain and remove the bay leaf.  Pour into a bowl and mix in the remaining about 1/3 cup of olive oil and the chopped preserved lemons (or lemon juice if substituting). Taste, and add more salt if necessary (you will need less if you are using preserved lemons as they are naturally quite salty).

Stir in the roasted vegetables and adjust seasoning again.  Serve warm or at room temperature.

Want more hearty, filling salads?  For more along these lines, check out our other recipes posted herehere and here.

Pasta with Broccoli and Anchovy Sauce

I won’t lie:  often enough when I see a recipe that kicks off by underlining the importance of technique, I proceed warily:  isn’t that just code for “this is going to be a lot of work”?

I don’t mind putting in some time in the kitchen (for goodness sakes, I’m writing a food blog here).  I do weird things like making my own yogurt and nurturing a little jar of sourdough in the fridge (though I’ll admit that neither of those activities require a Herculean effort, or much effort at all).  And I can’t argue that it’s not worth it.  But a soft-focus daydreamy vision of myself, in slow motion, pulling a steamy lasagna out of the oven–with homemade sheets of pasta of course–made with locally foraged mushrooms and herbs will have to wait for the weekend. (Well, the foraging–frankly that’s not going to happen any weekend because hunting down wild mushrooms freaks me out.  And furthermore I am a disaster at homemade pasta).  The other five days of the week have to submit to the practicalities of the fact that I can’t start making dinner until about 6pm.

On top of this, it’s often a challenge to build a meal with a vegetable as a starring role–at least for me.  I often feeling like I’m eating a compilation of side dishes with no unifying center.  Some garlicky greens, a swipe of a cracker through a jar of hummus, a carrot, a few olives, too many slices of bread and cheese, some scrounging for a cookie, a handful of my kids’ cereal…

Broccoli Pasta with Anchovy Sauce (3 of 3)

This recipe that I’m going to tell you about, from  Marcella Hazan‘s Essentials of Classic Italian Cooking, is one I’ve actually ignored for some time.  It just sounded, well, boring.  Chopped boiled broccoli stirred together with pasta and some cheese on top?  But for some reason (I had broccoli, I had pasta, this recipe sounded easy and fast–and on a Friday evening, that was enough) I finally gave it a try.  Except for the broccoli of course, all the ingredients are either pantry items or the refrigerator equivalent, so I hardly had to think too much before starting.

Broccoli Pasta with Anchovy Sauce (1 of 3)

Of course, using umami-packed anchovies and good cheese goes a long way towards ensuring a simple dish has tons of satisfying flavor. But (bringing me full circle in this post), the real revelation here was the technique and Hazan’s detailed instructions on–yes–how to boil broccoli.

I’m well aware it may sound silly to go on and on about “how” to boil something, but it really does makes all the difference:  the stems are tender, with no unwelcome rawness at the core, while the florets, which often suffer the reverse fate, are firm and green.  Peeling is quick and easy and ensures there’s no unpleasant, tough skin on the stalks.  Giving the stems a 2 minute lead in the boiling process ensures each piece is perfectly cooked, and the salted water keeps them freshly green and verdant.  And I had independent confirmation:  my husband, not knowing the secret tricks I had employed, commented on how good the broccoli was.  (I’ll forgive him the shock and surprise in his voice.  I had the same reaction).

I wish there were more kitchen tricks that produced such a winning effect for such minimal effort.  Sadly, there’s not as many as any of us would like, but rest assured I’m keeping my eyes peeled.  In the meantime, grab some broccoli, and enjoy a weeknight dinner in short order!

Broccoli Pasta with Anchovy Sauce (2 of 3)

Pasta with Broccoli and Anchovy Sauce adapted from Essentials of Classic Italian Cooking

  • One bunch of broccoli (about 1 1/2 lbs)
  • 1/4 cup olive oil
  • 6 anchovy fillets
  • 2 hot dried chili peppers or chili flakes, to taste
  • 12 ounces pasta, such as orecchiette, fusille, concilige (3/4 a standard box)
  • 2T parmesan cheese (grated)
  • 1/4c pecorino romano cheese (grated; i.e. twice the amount of parmesan)

Bring salted water to the boil.  Meanwhile, remove the broccoli stems from the florets.  Peel the broccoli stems using a vegetable peeler or a paring knife.  When the water boils, add the stems only, and once the water returns to a boil, wait 2 minutes.  Add the florets, return to the boil, wait one minute, and remove the broccoli.  (You can reserve the water for making the pasta).  When cool enough to handle, cut the broccoli stalks into 1/2 inch dice and break up the florets even more.

Return the water to  a boil.  Chop the anchovies finely; they will start to almost form a paste as you do so.  Heat the oil in a saucepan, add the anchovies, and move the saucepan over the pot of boiling water (so as to improvise a double-boiler).  Stir the anchovies for a minute or two until they disintegrate.  (Note, that this setup is not an extra step as you must boil water anyway for the pasta.  I have cooked the anchovies over the lowest possible flame but this is a safer method and at least here there’s no reason not to:  you already have the setup ready to go).

Add the broccoli (florets and stalks) and the chili, and return to the burner over medium heat.  Cook 4-5 minutes, stirring frequently.  Invert into a large bowl.

Boil the pasta until al dente, following the suggested timing on your package.  Add to the broccoli mixture.

Stir the broccoli sauce together with the pasta, add the cheese, stir and serve.

Final note:  there’s still time to enter our three year blogiversary giveaway, click on over!

Roasted Red Pepper & Sundried Tomato Black Bean Soup

Of the eight or nine vegetarian cookbooks on my shelf, each probably has at least one black bean soup recipe.  And yet, I still decided to go it alone on this one.  I just have not been satisfied and while walking through the aisles of Safeway (yes, Safeway, I shop there and it’s not always organic), I just started throwing things in my cart that I thought would be good for soup:

Ingredients:

  • onion
  • roasted red peppers
  • sun-dried tomatoes in olive oil
  • 4 cans of black beans
  • vegetable stock

My thought was that all of these had such delicious flavors, they could mold into something tasty without a lot of extra effort.  This is beginning to sound like an intro of “the 5 ingredient cookbook” or even a plug for “Semi-Homemade” but sometimes shortcuts are there for a reason and sometimes you can go overboard overseasoning.

My first thought was to retain all the savory and flavorful oil from the sun-dried tomatoes.  I drained off the liquid and used that to sautee my onions.

It’s still just olive oil after all, and if I needed more to prevent sticking I had plenty of the regular stuff on hand.  I chopped up the tomatoes as well as the roasted red peppers (I drained those off first – disposing of the reddish, less flavorful water).  I let all of that cook for about 5 to 8 minutes, adding some minced garlic too.  I love garlic so I’d estimate it was nearly 6 large cloves.  After draining the cans of beans, those also went in along with the vegetable stock (approximately 4 cups).

I brought it all to a boil and then reduced the heat to a simmer for about 15 to 20 minutes.  That seems to be what most recipes call for, so I thought I’d try that.  Everything is essentially cooked so it’s a matter of letting the flavors get to know each other.  Because I like the creaminess of soups, I decided to blend up about half into a liquid.  This was also a good way to blend the flavors together even more.

There were still a few good bits of tomatoes and black beans, surrounded by the creaminess – just the way I like it.  Sadly, there was little on hand for the “food styling” portion, but you get the idea.

Leek and Celery Pie

When I lived for a summer in Sarajevo, one of my favorite things was the local “fast food.”  Enjoying cevapi  (kebabs made with ground lamb meat) with hot charred bread on a warm summer evening in the old town center of Bascarsija was only made better when followed by a scoop of ice cream or a selection from a stunning array of baklavas.  But for a meal on the go–breakfast, lunch, or dinner–the burek shops had you covered.

Leek and Celery Pie (2 of 2)

You have had something similar to burek if you’ve ever had a spanakopita (the Greek version) or a borek (the Turkish name).  You could even stretch the definition a bit to include a Viennese apple strudel.  The idea is the same, regardless of the language:  a filling of meat, vegetables, or cheese, wrapped in flaky layers of phyllo dough, butter as the glue holding it all together.  I usually went for the spinach or cheese versions–no surprise there–sometimes the meat, and once even the potato pie.  (But to be honest, none of it is exactly what I’d call diet food).

As you know, I’m often drawn to recreating these food memories at home.  And with that, here’s a homemade, burek-inspired savory pie. 
Leek and Celery Pie-drizzled 1

I initially shied away from this recipe when I saw it on epicurious–were they really asking me to make my own phyllo dough?  Let out your breath:  you’re not rolling out 20 paper-thin sheets, but rather just two rectangles.  The dough is extensible and easy to work with, and best of all can be made in advance.  It’s tender thanks to the vinegar and yogurt in the crust, and even becomes flaky as it bakes in the oven. (And if you’re still panicking–or even just pulling a face at the idea of this–just use storebought phyllo dough or puff pastry.  Because you still want to make this).

As for the filling, it’s a mix of many flavors that encourage the best out of each other, and that makes for a remarkably satisfying meal.  Mild, gently cooked leek and celery are boosted by feisty aged cheese, and generous handfuls of chopped parsley, mint, and dill keep it lively.

I’ve made this a few times, each time doing at least one thing the ”wrong way,” but always enjoying the final product.  To avoid the effort of chopping, I’ve whirred up the leeks and celery in a food processor, but learned that it’s preferable to do the chopping by hand (sorry).  But you can go electric, just keep in mind that it’s very easy to over-process in the machine, and even if you don’t, using the processor releases a lot of liquid.  You can drain it off before proceeding, as I did, with perfectly good results, but my more “old-fashioned” attempt with a big old knife turned out better. 

I’ve also made this with less than the full 10 cups of leeks, which still yields wonderful, if perhaps slightly less generous, portions.  And I’ve even used a mix of dried and fresh rather than just fresh herbs (horrors!  heresy!), as my planning ahead skills are not always the best.  If you are better than I in this regard, but like me hate shelling out for bunches of herbs that you’ll only use a measly few leaves of, don’t worry: you’ll  get a lot of mileage (and tons of great flavor) out of your purchase here.

Leek and Celery Pie--fresh out of the oven

Leek and Celery Pie adapted from Epicurious

Note:  You will need a jelly roll pan or other rimmed baking pan to make this recipe

Crust (can use store-bought phyllo or puff pastry to similar effect)
  • 4 cups all-purpose flour (a little over 18 ounces) plus additional for dusting 
  • 2 teaspoons salt
  • 3/4 cup water
  • 1/2 cup whole-milk yogurt (preferably Greek-style)
  • 1/2 cup extra-virgin olive oil, plus more for oiling the bowl
  • 1 tablespoon red-wine vinegar

Filling

  • 4-6 lb leeks (white and pale green parts only),
    chopped (about 10 cups–though I’ve used less)
  • 1/4 cup plus 3 tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil
  • 5 large celery ribs, chopped (about 3 cups)
  • 1 teaspoon salt
  • 1 cup chopped fresh mint
  • 2/3 cup chopped fresh flat-leaf parsley
  • 1/2 cup chopped fresh dill
  • 1/4 lb Greek feta, crumbled (1 cup)
  • 1/2 cup Parmigiano-Reggiano cheese (about 1 1/2 oz) or preferably finely grated Kefalotyri if you can find it.
  • 1/4 teaspoon black pepper
  • 3 large eggs

Make the dough

Stir together flour and salt in a large bowl, then add the water, yogurt, 1/2 cup oil, and vinegar. If you have a stand mixer or food processor, it’s best to use these to very briefly knead the dough so that you don’t inadvertently add too much flour.  You want a soft, smooth, but pliable dough.  If you knead by hand, knead about 4 minutes and resist adding extra flour if at all possible.  Oil a large bowl, form the dough into a ball, and roll it around inside the bowl to coat.  Cover the bowl with plastic wrap or a damp towel and let dough stand at room temperature 1 hour.  This will allow the dough to rest and relax, which will make it far easier to roll out–so it’s definitely worth the wait.  (You can keep the dough up to three days in the fridge before using, tightly covered with plastic or in a plastic bag.)
 
Make the filling

Wash the leeks and celery well and drain them, if you haven’t already.

Heat 1/4 cup oil in a deep 12-inch heavy skillet or a 5- to 6-quart heavy pot over moderately high heat until hot but not smoking (as you don’t want to brown the vegetables once you add them).  Sauté the leeks and celery with 1/2 teaspoon salt, stirring frequently, until softened and translucent, around 10 minutes. Transfer to a bowl and cool about 10 minutes (stirring will promote cooling).   Note: you can do this step a day in advance and refrigerate but like the dough bring to room temperature before proceeding.

Place your oven rack in the middle position and preheat  the oven to 375°F.

Stir the herbs into the leek and celery mixture along with the cheeses, pepper,  and remaining 1/2 teaspoon salt. Lightly beat eggs with remaining 3 tablespoons oil in a small bowl, then stir into leek filling.  (This is why you want to allow the filling to cool slightly–so as not to cook the eggs or prematurely melt the cheese).

Make the pie
 
Brush baking pan with 2 tablespoons oil.

Divide dough in half and flour a work surface.  Roll out one half on a floured surface into a rectangle about an 1 1/2 to 2 inches wider on all sides than your pan (i.e. if you have a 17 X 12 inch pan, you want to roll out to about 20 X 15 inches at a minimum, or even a bit bigger).   If the dough resists, let it rest about 10 minutes, which will allow the gluten to relax and will result in the dough being more yielding.  Fold your rectangle loosely into quarters and transfer to your pan, then unfold dough and fit into the pan, leaving a 1-inch overhang. Spread the filling evenly in pan.

Roll out remaining dough on floured surface with floured rolling pin into a rectangle about 1 inch wider on all sides than your pan. Lift dough and drape it over filling, leaving it slightly wrinkled. Roll edge of bottom crust over top to
form a rope edge all around pie. Brush top of pie with remaining 2 tablespoons
oil (or drizzle it on and use your fingers to spread the oil out over the surface). Score top crust into serving pieces with a sharp knife.

Bake the pie until golden brown, 50 to 60 minutes.  Allow to cool and serve at room temperature.   

Celeriac Soup with Cilantro and Chile

You can call it by its very literal name, celery root, or go for something that sounds a bit more rarefied, celeriac.  Somehow I’ve gotten into the habit of the latter.  (I’m so fancy, after all).  But maybe it’s because this poor ugly vegetable deserves all the help it can get in the publicity department.

Celeriac

Image via Wikipedia

It’s fun to find it so fresh that its stalks are still attached, which are instantly recognizable as celery.  But even if the root is not just pulled from the ground, it’s an excellent keeper, and easy to work with.  The peel may be craggy, but is easily sliced off.  The moonscaped exterior, knobby and deeply grooved with  dirt-collecting crevices, falls away to reveal a creamy interior with pale yellow inflections.  I’ve enjoyed it raw, dressed with a light mayonnaise vinaigrette in the classic celery root remoulade.  Pureed into mashed potatoes, it adds a light, delicate note to the classic side dish.  More often though, I use it as the base for a comforting cold weather soup.

I can throw together a basic root vegetable soup like this nearly with my eyes shut (except for the chopping part).  Cube a selection of sturdy vegetables unearthed from the soil, saute briefly and simmer in a good flavorful broth, pureeing at the end and splashing with cream or milk.  It’s a combination that’s hard to tire of.  But even so, I was curious what an internet search might yield, and came upon this recipe created by Sackville which I used as a starting point.

I love the contrast of the creamy smooth texture of a pureed soup with the heat of a dried pepper or two.  Stirring in chopped cilantro at the end provides a fresh flavor (and color) that is unexpected–but certainly welcome–in a fall or winter dish.

Celeriac Soup with Cilantro and Chile (1 of 1)

Celeriac Soup with Cilantro and Chile

  • 1 medium onion, finely chopped
  • 2 dried chiles, some seeds removed (or not, if you are adventurous)
  • 3 cloves minced garlic
  • 3 tablespoons olive oil
  • 1 teaspoon cumin
  • 1 1/2 lbs peeled and cubed celeriac
  • 4 cups chicken broth
  • 1/4 cup cilantro, chopped
  • 1/3 cup whole milk or half-and-half
  • salt & freshly ground black pepper

In a large saucepan, sauté the onion, chile and garlic in the olive oil for 2-3 minutes over a medium high heat  Add the celeriac, cumin and season with salt and pepper.  Stir briefly to evenly coat the vegetables with the olive oil and spices.

Add the stock, bring to a boil, and then lower the heat and allow to gently simmer for about 15 minutes or however long is necessary for the celeriac to soften. 

Remove the soup from the heat and fish out the chile.  Use a blender, food processor or (my preference, if you have one) an immersion blender to puree the soup.

Stir in the milk and return to the heat briefly to warm through.  (Note that a pureed soup bubbles like magma, and can splash out of the pot and burn you if you are not careful, though you don’t need to get it that hot to begin with).  Taste and adjust for salt if needed.

Stir in the cilantro, reserving a bit for garnish, and serve.

Update:  Want another take on a celeriac soup?  Check out the Garum Factory’s recent post.

–by Sara