FOOD ON THE FOOD

Roasted Salmon with Dill Yogurt Sauce

Well, we're off on vacation. As always, I've booby-trapped our home with poison ivy, both inside and out, so steal our junk at your own risk.

Before I go, I thought I'd leave you with a quick summer dinner that got the thumbs-up from the kids. It's from the book Dinner: A Love Story by Jenny Rosenstrach. I can't find a single thing wrong with it. Enjoy!

Roasted Salmon with Dill Yogurt Sauce  

You can grill the salmon, too. Your call.

6 4-ounce salmon fillets
1/2 cup plain yogurt (I used Green Mountain Greek yogurt, which isn't too thick)
1 heaping teaspoon Dijon mustard
1 tablespoon chopped fresh dill
Squeeze of fresh lemon
Salt and pepper

Preheat the oven to 400°F.

Season the salmon with salt and pepper. Place it in a baking dish and roast in the oven for 10 to 15 minutes until flaky but still moist.

Meanwhile, in a small bowl, whisk together the yogurt, mustard, dill, and lemon juice. Season to taste with salt and pepper. Serve the fish with a dollop of sauce and perhaps some green beans.

Source: Adapted from Dinner: A Love Story by Jenny Rosenstrach

Piety

We were at my in-laws' down the Cape over the weekend when I was suddenly overcome with the urge to make pie. I'm usually a total sloth once we cross over the Sagamore bridge, burying my nose in various books and sleeping late, only emerging for the sweet promise of doughnuts. My in-laws are very forgiving.

But nothing motivates me like pie. Maybe it was the peach trees over by the garage, fruits rosy from a distance but still teasingly green up close, or the blackberries growing on prickly brambles under the deck, sweet as strawberries. Or maybe the salty air demanded a buttery counterpoint. Whatever it was, I needed pie and I needed it now. I had already gone down to the local farm stand and gathered up as many ripe peaches and nectarines as I could find, so I got right down to the business of making pie.

Cooking in someone else's space is always interesting. Despite the many similarities between all kitchens, there are always some unpredictable elements. Like the location of the blade for the food processor. Where was it? My in-laws were out at the time so I couldn't ask. I checked every conceivable cabinet and drawer I could think of, but I couldn't find it. That's okay. I didn't need a food processor for the crust, I could just cut in the butter by hand. But where the heck was the butter? There was no butter in the refrigerator. There was no butter in the freezer. I take for granted the constant presence of butter at my house, so I never bothered to check. Did I really want to get back in the summer traffic queue on Rt. 6 just for butter? How badly did I want this pie?

Husband rummaged around in the basement freezer and located two sticks of unsalted butter like the hero that he is. But cutting in frozen butter by hand wasn't going to be easy. I dug around in the drawers for a pastry blender, which was a long shot but worth a try, until I found a small box grater. Perfect! I shredded the frozen butter on the large holes of the grater until it threatened to scrape all the flesh off my knuckles. That was my cue to stop. (So if my in-laws find two little knobs of butter in the fridge that look like they were attacked by tiny beavers, that's why.)

From there, I mixed the butter, which now bore a striking resemblance to mozzarella cheese, into the flour, sugar, and salt, drizzled in the ice water, and tossed the fluffy mixture with a fork.  Then I kneaded it several times to develop flaky layers, formed the dough into two disks, wrapped them in plastic wrap, and put them in the fridge to rest while I made the filling.

The rest of the pie construction went very smoothly. Rolling out the pie dough on their nice marble countertop was a pleasant change. I was feeling pretty good as I slid the whole beautiful, egg-washed, double-crusted pie into the oven. That is, until about 10 minutes later when I was cleaning up and noticed the box of cornstarch over in the corner, neglected and untouched. I wasn't working from a recipe but rather a mental accounting of things. A mental accounting that had included sugar, vanilla, and a little cinnamon, but had conveniently forgotten the all-important thickener that I had set out earlier. Now my filling was getting soupier by the second in the oven, sealed between my two hard-earned homemade crusts.

So this is what I did. I removed the pie from the oven. I made a large incision between the pie plate and the crimped edge of the crust along the circumference of half of the pie. I flipped the top crust over onto the other half of the pie (the dough was still bendy at this point). Then I stirred in a whole bunch of cornstarch, I don't know how much, maybe 2 tablespoons? I was muttering angrily to myself the whole time and not really paying attention. I added the cornstarch only to the half of the pie where the filling was exposed hoping that, at best, some sort of starchy equilibrium would be achieved during the baking process, or, at worst, half of the pie would be soupy and half would be a gloppy mess. I didn't care at this point. I just wanted my pie. I quickly flipped the crust back on top. It looked sad and droopy on one side, but whatever. Pie is pie. It slumps once you cut it anyway. Then I put it back in the oven.

Now, I'm not a religious person, you know that, but there must have been some kind of divine intervention going on with that pie because, despite all of its technical challenges, it came out fantastic. Deliciously peachy with a smattering of blackberries. Okay, maybe there was a little extra liquid on one side, but it held together fine and tasted great. It didn't even look that bad in the end. Also, when I put the cornstarch away, I found the food processor blades. Aha! They were in the far side of the cabinet with the baking ingredients.

Next time I'll make the pie properly, but there's no guarantee it will come out half as good!

Fun With Garden Pests

I know that snails are bad for gardens, but I was glad I found a couple of them today because there was one for each boy to play with. They built a little habitat out of rocks and twigs in a shady spot far away from the garden, and spent a good half hour observing the snails. It bought me lots of extra weeding time.


It also reminded me to tell you about a book I recently read and loved called The Sound of a Wild Snail Eating by Elisabeth Tova Bailey. It's about as exciting as it sounds, action-wise, but it's a beautiful, quick, and interesting read that really makes you appreciate the slow and steady things in life. And couldn't we all use a little more of that?

Cherry Black Raspberry Cobbler

I hope cherry season isn't over, yet, because you have got to try some of this cobbler! I made it for the Fourth of July, but it would be equally delicious on the Fourteenth of July, say, or even the Fortieth of July if you live in another dimension not subject to our earthly calendars.

I made this cobbler with a bag of sweet Bing cherries and a half pint of black raspberries I picked in the park. I couldn't find my cherry pitter, goddamnit, so I pitted the cherries with a knife, slicing off one side of each cherry and then mashing the cherry against the cutting board with the side of the knife to eject the pit. It made quite a mess until I learned to angle the cut-side of the cherry down a bit so the juice squirted at the cutting board. Mostly. Wear an apron. Once you get into the rhythm of it, I think it's almost as fast as a cherry pitter.

Then top the seductive, lipstick-colored fruit with buttery biscuits, bake until bubbly and golden, and serve warm with a scoop of vanilla bean ice cream. Heaven!

Cherry Black Raspberry Cobbler   

If you don't have access to black raspberries, you can substitute blackberries, red raspberries, or just add an extra cup of cherries.

Fruit
5 cups sweet cherries, stemmed, pitted
1 cup black raspberries
1/4 cup cornstarch
1/2 cup granulated sugar, plus 1 tablespoon for topping
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
Juice from 1/2 small lemon
1/4 teaspoon salt
Pinch ground cinnamon

Biscuits
2 cups flour
2 teaspoons baking powder
1/2 teaspoon salt
12 tablespoons cold unsalted butter, cut into cubes
1/2 cup milk, plus 1 teaspoon for topping

Preheat the oven to 375°F. Butter a 9-inch deep-dish pie plate.

Combine the pitted cherries, black raspberries, cornstarch, sugar, vanilla, lemon juice, salt, and cinnamon in a large bowl. Stir well.

Add the flour, baking powder, and salt to the bowl of a food processor and pulse to combine. Add the butter and pulse until the mixture forms a coarse meal, 15 to 30 seconds depending on the size of your cubes. Dump the mixture into a medium bowl and add the milk. Mix with a fork until a scrappy dough forms. (If you don't have a food processor, you can cut the butter into the dry ingredients in a mixing bowl with a pastry blender, fork and knife, or your fingers, and then add the milk).

Turn the dough onto the counter and knead three or four times, folding the dough over on itself, until it comes together. If the dough seems too dry, drizzle a tiny bit more milk over the dry areas and knead again once or twice. Press the dough into a disk about 1/2-inch thick. With a biscuit cutter or a jelly jar, cut straight down into 10 or 12 shapes, enough to cover the cobbler (recombine the scraps to make extra biscuits). Arrange the biscuits on top, brush with a little milk, and sprinkle with the remaining sugar.

Bake uncovered until the biscuits are golden brown, 40 to 45 minutes. Let cool at least 10 minutes. Serve with vanilla ice cream.

Other cherry recipes you might like:

Cherry Crisp Ice Cream from The Live-In Kitchen

Cherry Clafouti from Simply Recipes

Frozen Cherry Mojitos from My Baking Addiction

Sour Cherry Preserves from Food on the Food

Scenes from the School Garden: July 2014

It may be off-season for the kids, but the school garden is still a-growing. Above is the last of the sugar snap peas. Below, bee balm is in bloom, lilies in the distance.


One of many pumpkin plants sown by the second graders.

An early sunflower, winking.

Just a reminder that today is the last day to enter the cookbook raffle for The Coastal Table. Click here for details.

The Coastal Table and Nasturtium Butter

Here's a book that was made for summer: The Coastal Table. In it are seasonal recipes and beautiful photos from the farms and shores of southern Massachusetts. I met author Karen Covey at the Eat Boutique holiday market in Boston last December, where we were promoting our respective books. In a show of local author solidarity and a mutual appreciation of local foods, we each bought a copy of the other's book. I'd been holding off on cooking from it until the good, fresh produce of summer arrived, and, what do you know, here it is!

The school garden is full of edible nasturtium blossoms in bright, sunshiny colors right now. I love using these beautiful flowers in salads or as a garnish, but I've never used them in any other capacity. That's why I decided to start with the recipe for roasted fish with nasturtium butter. This unusual compound butter has delicate bursts of lemon, salt, and the fresh, peppery taste of nasturtiums, which taste a bit like radishes. And if you know anything about radishes, then you know how well they go with butter and salt. This compound butter is a nice way to add a little flavor and color to a simple piece of fish, roasted or grilled. When the butter melts, little ribbony flecks of flower petals are scattered all over the top of the fish like confetti. Hooray summer!

I'm excited to cook more recipes from this book as the season progresses. The beach plum mojito looks divine, as does the chilled sweet corn soup with lobster. I also have my eye on her baked eggs and bacon jam. Since I think this is a book you guys will like, Union Park Press has offered to give away one copy of The Coastal Table to one lucky reader. To be entered to win, add a comment to this post telling me what you like to do with nasturtiums, or what kinds of other edible flowers you find uses for, or just tell me what you're looking forward to eating this summer, flowers be damned. This raffle will close Thursday 7/10 at 10 p.m. EST. Good luck!



Roasted Cod with Lemon Nasturtium Butter   

The flavors here are simple and delicate, so make sure your fish is exceedingly fresh. Same with your butter. If you don't have access to nasturtiums, you can substitute a tablespoon or two of your favorite fresh herbs, like Italian parsley, tarragon, and chives, well chopped.

12 nasturtium flower petals
1 stick unsalted butter, at room temperature
Zest from 1 lemon
Kosher or sea salt, to taste
Freshly ground black pepper, to taste
(4) 4-ounce pieces of cod, haddock, or halibut, each about 1-1/2-inches thick

Swirl the flowers in a large bowl of cold water and gently swirl them around to release any dirt. Remove the flowers from the water and place them on a clean tea towel or paper towel until completely dry.

Place the softened butter, lemon zest, and a pinch of salt and pepper in a medium bowl. Finely chop the nasturtium petals and add them to the bowl. Gently mix until everything is well combined, with visible flecks of flowers throughout. Transfer the butter mixture to a piece of plastic wrap and roll into a log, twisting up both ends to enclose. Refrigerate the butter until firm, at least 1 hour.

Preheat the oven to 375°F. Place the fish in a large baking dish and add about 2 tablespoons of water to the dish. Roast uncovered until the fish is opaque and cooked through, about 12 minutes. Meanwhile, remove the butter from the refrigerator and cut 4 slices from the log.

Transfer the fish to a plate lined with paper towels to remove any excess moisture, then transfer to a serving platter or individual plates. Set a slice of butter on top of each piece of fish. Serve warm.

Reserve the remaining butter well-wrapped for another use (like spread on good French bread with sliced radishes).

Source: Adapted from The Coastal Table by Karen Covey

Local Sources:
Butter: Kate's of Maine, Old Orchard Beach, ME
Nasturtiums: My garden, Waltham, MA

Cool Summer Desserts

We walked into the orthodontist's office last week to two pieces of good news:

1. The 11YO gets his braces off in three weeks; and

2. I have a pie on the cover of Fine Cooking magazine!

The issue was sitting on a table with a bunch of other magazines in the waiting room, and I thought to myself, that pie looks familiar. I didn't know the editors decided to put it on the cover. I had to resist waving the magazine in everyone's face as I walked by (Pie! Wanna see my pie??). Instead, I made a nuisance out of myself by co-opting a corner of the room so I could take photos of each page of my article multiple times. Orthodontic lighting is not flattering, as it turns out (nor is orthodontic carpeting.)


The piece is about no-bake, make-ahead, retro summer desserts to keep you calm, cool, and collected. It includes three recipes. The pie is adapted from the chocolate mousse recipe in my book WINTERSWEET. It's the best chocolate mousse pie ever and cannot be confined to a single season, hence its appearance here as a summer dessert. There's also a recipe for peach almond icebox cake and a blackberry-lime frozen terrine with pockets of dulce de leche tucked inside. I love the bracing tartness against the sweet caramel. It's my new favorite frozen treat.

Fine Cooking subscribers should see a copy in their mailboxes shortly, if not already. The rest of us will have to wait another month or so before it hits newsstands. It's the August/September issue. Keep an eye out!