FOOD ON THE FOOD

Quick Cucumber Salad

Now that school is back in session, it's challenging to return to the usual state of structure and restraint. But it's very necessary, both for the belly and the budget.

We're still getting tons of cucumbers in our farmshare, so here's a nice way to use them. Fresh and flavorful, this tangy salad goes well with grilled meats and various end-of-summer pastas like this one.


Dill Cucumber Salad  

I used to salt the cucumbers ahead of time to extract some of the water, but now I don't bother. The liquid they give off tempers the bite of the vinegar.

2 large cucumbers
1/2 onion
1/4 cup rice vinegar
1 tablespoon chopped fresh dill
1 tablespoon toasted sesame seeds (optional)
Pinch of red pepper flakes
Kosher salt and pepper to taste

Slice the cucumbers very, very thinly. You can use a mandoline, but if you don't own one, cut them as thin as you can with a sharp knife. Slice the onion thinly, too, and put the vegetables in a medium bowl. Sprinkle generously with salt. Add the rice vinegar, chopped dill, sesame seeds (if using), a pinch of red pepper flakes, and ground black pepper to taste. Toss well and refrigerate until ready to serve, stirring occasionally.

Local Ingredients:
Cucumbers, onion, dill: Waltham Fields Community Farm, Waltham, MA

Garlicky Green Beans

Following up on my Mother's Day post, here's a recipe for garlicky green beans similar to the ones we had at Mulan. We love the basic recipe, but there are lots of variations, too. You can add 1 tablespoon of chopped scallions and/or minced fresh ginger. You can add a splash of toasted sesame oil and sprinkle with sesame seeds. Or you can heat things up with a half teaspoon of sriracha or some sliced fresh chilies. It's all good.

Garlicky Green Beans    

The kids used to hate green beans prepared this way, but now they love them. Huzzah!

1 pound green beans or Chinese long beans, trimmed, cut into 2-inch pieces
1 tablespoon vegetable oil
1 tablespoon soy sauce
1 teaspoon hoisin sauce (or honey)
1 tablespoon rice wine or white wine (or water)
1 tablespoon finely chopped garlic
Pinch of kosher salt
Freshly ground black pepper to taste

Heat the oil in a large wok or skillet over medium-high heat, and sauté the green beans, tossing occasionally, for about 7 minutes or until they blister and brown in places but are still crisp-tender, not mushy. Remove the green beans to a plate.

In a separate small bowl, whisk together the soy sauce, hoisin sauce, and rice wine. Set aside. Add the garlic to the hot pan and stir-fry for about 20 seconds until fragrant but not browning. Add the beans and sauce, and stir until heated through and the sauce reduces to a thick glaze, 1 to 2 minutes. Season to taste with salt and black pepper.

Coleslaw: Deconstructing My Pulled Pork Sandwich

Now that you have my recipe for pulled pork, let's sliiiide that bun over and talk about the coleslaw. Because you're probably getting lots of cabbage in your CSA shares right about now. You know you are!

Husband loves coleslaw, specifically my coleslaw. It's one of the reasons he keeps me around. For my part, I put up with him because of his tremendous dishwashing skills and the fact that he eats my coleslaw. That's not something every guy likes, you know? Coleslaw and piles of dirty dishes? My prince!

Coleslaw (print-friendly version)

In reality, I eyeball all the measurements, and it comes out slightly differently each time but always good.

1 pound cabbage, red or green, cored, shredded
1 carrot, peeled, grated
1/2 small onion, finely chopped
1/2 cup mayo
2 tablespoons rice vinegar
Kosher salt
Lots and lots of freshly ground black pepper

Set the shredded cabbage in a colander set over a plate, and sprinkle it all over with about 1 teaspoon of kosher salt. Let it sit for an hour or two to wilt. The cabbage will become increasingly wet as it releases its liquid. I like to gently squeeze it dry a bit with a towel as I transfer it to a bowl, fistful by fistful. Having the veggies not be sopping wet helps the dressing cling better instead of sliding off into the bottom of the bowl. Squeeze the shredded carrot over the sink and then add to the cabbage.

In a small bowl, whisk the mayo with the vinegar. Add lots of black pepper, but hold off on the salt for now. You may not need much or any. Toss the vegetables with the dressing. Taste for seasoning and add more salt and pepper if necessary. Let chill in the refrigerator. Stir again just before serving.

Local Ingredients:
Cabbage, carrots: Waltham Fields Community Farm, Waltham, MA

Indian Cauliflower and Potatoes

Here's another Indian vegetable recipe we make a lot, and one of my faaaavorite ways to eat cauliflower. I posted about this six years ago, but there was no photo and little in the way of a charming introduction. At least now there's a photo!


Indian Cauliflower and Potatoes (Aloo Gobi) (print-friendly version)

Again, use your discretion with the cayenne. Add more if you like things spicy, or scale it back to a pinch if you're scared.

2 to 3 medium potatoes
1 medium cauliflower
3 Tbsp. canola oil
1 onion, chopped
1 tsp. cumin seeds
1 1/2 tsp. ground cumin
1/2 tsp. ground coriander
1/2 tsp. ground turmeric
1/8 tsp. ground cayenne
1 tsp. salt
Black pepper

Boil the potatoes in their jackets until tender when pierced with a knife. Cut the cauliflower into florets about 1½-inches wide. Soak them in a bowl of water for 30 minutes.  Drain.

Peel the potatoes and cut them into ¾-inch dice. In a large, non-stick frying pan, heat the oil over medium heat. Fry the onion until translucent, stirring occasionally, 4 to 5 minutes. Stir in the cumin seeds and sauté for about a minute. Add the cauliflower and stir until it starts to brown in spots, about 5 minutes. Cover, turn the heat to low, and simmer until cauliflower is almost done, but still has a bit of crispness (8 to 12 minutes). Add the diced potatoes and the rest of the spices, and gently stir. Cook uncovered over low heat until potatoes are heated through, about 5 minutes more.

Source: Adapted from Illustrated Indian Cookery by Madhur Jaffrey

Stir-Fried Indian Cabbage

When I went through and categorized all of the recipes on this site a few months ago, I was shocked—shocked, I say—to discover that the Indian category was so empty. I mean, we're not having Indian food every night, but there are definitely a few dishes that come up over and over in the rotation (if you can call my whim-based menu-planning a rotation). Vikram Vij's goat curry is one I want to post about in the cooler months because it is completely unbelievable, as well as a variation on Madhur Jaffrey's lamb korma, another personal favorite.

But today we're talking about cabbage. Because sometimes I get sick of coleslaw. Sometimes I just want something different, and the only way to make any serious headway through the piles and piles of shredded cabbage is to cook it down quickly with garlic and Indian spices until it's so fricking delicious, you just eat it like candy. And I haven't even gotten to the health benefits, which include, but are not limited to, cancer prevention and inflammation reduction. But that's not really why I eat it. I eat it because it's delicious. The rest is a perk.

This dish only takes 5 minutes on the range so it won't heat up the house too much. Serve it with chana masala (chick pea curry) with brown or basmati rice, and you've got yourself a meal!

Stir-Fried Indian Cabbage (print-friendly version)

Adjust the cayenne to your liking. The original recipe called for something like 1/2 teaspoon of cayenne, but that's too much for me, never mind the kids. But do put in at least a pinch.

2 Tbsp. canola oil
1/2 tsp. mustard seeds
1/2 tsp. ground turmeric
1 lb. green cabbage, thinly sliced (about 1/2 head)
2 garlic cloves, peeled, smashed with the side of a knife
1 teaspoon salt
1/8 tsp. ground cayenne

Heat the oil in a large frying pan or wok over high heat. When super-hot, add the mustard seeds and cover with a splatter screen or lid to keep the seeds from flying out. When the seeds stop sputtering, add the turmeric, cabbage, garlic, salt, and cayenne. Toss well. Stir-fry until the cabbage is crisp-tender, 2 to 3 minutes.

Source: Adapted from 5 Spices, 50 Dishes by Ruta Kahate.

Local Ingredients:
Cabbage, garlic: Waltham Fields Community Farm, Waltham, MA

Bulgur Salad with Chard and Olives

I cannot get enough of this salad! Basically, it's tabbouli, the Middle Eastern grain salad with fresh herbs and tomatoes, but with other stuff subbed in for the tomatoes, like Swiss chard and olives. Lots of parsley and cilantro combined with a generous shot of lemon keep the flavors bright. It's good for picnics, barbecues, or hasty lunches out of a Tupperware container at work. Next week, consider switching out the chard and olives for grilled zucchini, pattypan squash, and dare I hope for eggplant? Too soon? Only the hot July sun knows for sure. Then, in August and September, it's tomato time. Wait your turn, tomatoes. You're not the only game in town!


Bulgur Salad with Chard and Olives (print-friendly version)

This recipe makes a lot, at least 8 servings, so I hope you're hungry!

1 1/2 cups medium bulgur wheat
Kosher salt
1 bunch Swiss chard, stems removed, sliced into thick strips
1/4 cup fresh lemon juice (from 1 to 2 lemons)
2 medium cloves garlic, minced and mashed to a paste with a pinch of salt
1 large shallot or small onion, finely diced
1/2 cup mixed country olives, pitted, coarsely chopped
1/2 cup coarsely chopped fresh cilantro
1/2 cup coarsely chopped fresh flat-leaf parsley
1/2 cup extra-virgin olive oil
Freshly ground black pepper

Combine the bulgur wheat and 1 teaspoon of salt in a large bowl. Bring 2 1/4 cups of water to a boil and then pour over the wheat. Cover the bowl with a large plate and let set until the water has been absorbed and the bulgur is tender, about 1 hour.

Wash the chard and place it wet into the pot. Cover and steam over medium heat until wilted and tender, 3 to 4 minutes. Drain the chard, run it under cold water, and squeeze it dry.

Combine the lemon juice, garlic, and shallot, and let sit for at least 15 minutes.

Gently fold the olives, cilantro, parsley, oil, Swiss chard, and lemon mixture into the bulgur. Season to taste with salt and pepper. Refrigerate until cold.

Source: Adapted from Fine Cooking and Tasha DeSerio.

Local Ingredients:
Bulgur Wheat: Baer's Best, Lover's Brook Farm, South Berwick, ME via Russo's, Watertown, MA
Swiss chard, cilantro, parsley: Waltham Fields Community Farm, Waltham, MA

Creamy Braised Brussels Sprouts

Want to blow somebody's mind this Thanksgiving? Serve these Brussels sprouts. Yes, Brussels sprouts. No, this isn't some kind of sick joke. They're browned, smothered in cream, then braised until silken deliciousness is achieved. Cruciferous candy. Sure, there are plenty of lower calorie ways of making Brussels sprouts, but it IS Thanksgiving after all. And today, I'm thankful for cream!

Creamy Braised Brussels Sprouts

One bite and the ThirdGrader said, Brussels sprouts aren't as evil as I thought!

3 Tbsp. unsalted butter
1 lb. Brussels sprouts (2-3 stalks worth), trimmed, cut in half or quartered
1 cup cream
Salt and pepper
Juice of 1/2 lemon

Melt butter in a large skillet over medium heat. Cook sprouts until lightly browned in spots, about 5 minutes. Season with salt and pepper. Stir in cream and bring to a simmer. Cover, reduce heat to low, and cook 20-25 minutes, stirring occasionally, until sprouts are tender and cream is reduced and lightly brown. Sprinkle with lemon juice to taste, perhaps more salt and pepper, and serve.

Source: Adapted from All About Braising by Molly Stevens

Local Ingredients:
Brussels sprouts: Waltham Fields Community Farm, Waltham, MA
Butter: Cabot, Cabot, VT
Cream: High Lawn Farm, Lee, MA

Ribfest Hush Puppies

Ribfest is a tradition of ours that started about 10 years ago with our next-door neighbors, and is somewhat legendary among our friends. 

It began as a potluck barbecue free-for-all with 40 people and three grills full of spicy, sticky ribs.  Because there was always a major extended downpour regardless of the date we chose, tarps were hoisted up between the two houses to keep the grills dry and the people around them slightly less dry.  Dining tables and card tables were pushed together like mismatched train cars winding their way around the first floor of our neighbor's house.  In later years, we all crammed ourselves onto our newly rebuilt front porch, piles of orange-streaked, wadded-up napkins littering the tables, rain pouring all around us.  It was fun, but a little crazy.  Turns out manning three grills at a slow, smoldering pace for 6 hours in the rain while keeping small children at bay is harder than it looks.

Over the years, the festivities have become scaled back to include mostly just ourselves and a few others.  The basic menu has remained more or less the same: our neighbors' spectacularly tender and flavorful ribs and their similarly amazing grilled beans.  My contribution has always involved hushpuppies, the deep-fried cornmeal fritters I fancied as a kid when we lived in the Chesapeake Bay area.  Depending on the year, I might also make collard greens, coleslaw, or fried okra.  Often, one or the other of us provides potato salad or cornbread or a green salad.  I always make a dessert. 

The main attraction, however, are the ribs.  Unfortunately, I'm not in a position to share the rib recipe.  I'm sorry to be a gigantic tease.  There's something magical about those ribs and I'm afraid if I learn the secret, the magic will be lost.  I can, on the other hand, share my recipe for hushpuppies—and I think you will find them to be completely irresistible.

 

Hushpuppies

For best results, use the finest ground cornmeal you can find.  Fry these right before you're going to serve them, as they don't improve upon sitting.  Give yourself a good 15-20 minutes to fry them all.  The recipe makes about 2 dozen, but you can double (or triple) the recipe as needed--just allow more time for frying and bring them out in installments.  Serve with corn and cayenne mayonnaise for a spicy kick.

2 cups yellow cornmeal, finely ground
1 Tbsp. flour
1/2 tsp. baking soda
1/2 tsp. baking powder
1 Tbsp. kosher salt
1 Tbsp. granulated sugar
2 tsp. onion powder
1 tsp. garlic powder
1/4 cup chopped onion
1/4 cup chopped scallion
1/2 cup frozen corn kernels, defrosted (optional)
1 egg, slightly beaten
1 cup buttermilk, plus an extra Tbsp. or two if necessary
Canola or peanut oil for frying

In a large mixing bowl, stir together the cornmeal, flour, baking soda, baking powder, salt, sugar, onion powder, and garlic powder.  Add the onion, scallion, corn kernels, egg, and buttermilk and mix well.  I often add another 1-2 Tbsp. of buttermilk if it seems too thick, but much more liquid than that may cause painful oil splatters to occur while frying, so use caution.  Let batter rest 15 minutes.

Meanwhile, heat two inches of oil in a large heavy pot.  Use a candy thermometer to monitor the heat.  The ideal temperature for deep-frying is 375°F, but it will fluctuate as you take things in and out of the pot.  Adjust the heat as necessary.  Usher small children out of the room due to aforementioned splatters.  Fry hushpuppies 4 or 5 at a time until they turn a rich terracotta brown, then flip and fry on the other side (about 3 minutes total, but this will vary with temperature).  Remove from oil with tongs or slotted spoon.  Drain on paper towels and sprinkle with kosher salt.  Eat immediately.  (The small crispy bits rescued from the hot oil are the cook's reward!)


Corn and Cayenne Mayonnaise

This recipe makes about twice as much as you need for a single recipe of hushpuppies, but it's also delicious with cornmeal-crusted catfish.  Can be made a day ahead of time if kept refrigerated.

1 cup canola or vegetable oil, plus 1 Tbsp. to fry corn
1 cup corn kernels
1 clove garlic, peeled
2 egg yolks
2 Tbsp. vinegar
1 tsp. Dijon mustard
1 tsp. kosher salt
1/2 tsp. granulated sugar
1/2 tsp. paprika
1/4-1/2 tsp. cayenne
Lemon juice to taste

In a medium frying pan, heat 1 Tbsp. oil until hot and fry corn until nicely browned, about 2 minutes.  Let cool.

In a food processor, puree the cooled corn and garlic.  Add the egg yolks, vinegar, mustard, salt, sugar, paprika, and cayenne (start with 1/4 tsp.), and blend well. Through the feed tube, slowly add the oil with the machine running until fully emulsified. Taste to adjust seasoning, adding a little lemon juice or more salt and cayenne if necessary. 

Note: If your mayo should break, meaning separate into a curdled, disgusting mess, have no fear.  Separate another egg and add the yolk to a medium bowl (reserve the white in the fridge for another use).  Very slowly add the broken mayo to the egg yolk while whisking to incorporate until they are fully combined.  The new mayo should be smooth and more stable this time.  Dilute with water if too thick, whisking well.

Source: Adapted from The Cambridge School of Culinary Arts.

Local Ingredients:
Eggs: Codman Farm, Lincoln, MA
Scallions: Waltham Fields Community Farm, Waltham, MA
Buttermilk: Kate's, Old Orchard Beach, ME
Mustard: Raye's Mustard, Eastport, ME

Spinach, Chickpeas, and a Possible Anchovy Component

Are you getting bags and bags of greens in your CSA?  Here's a simple lunch you might enjoy: wilted spinach stewed briefly with chickpeas, garlic, and cumin.   It's a Spanish dish I gleaned from Ximena Maier's lobstersquad many years ago, around the time she drew my banner illustration.  This dish was something I often packed for lunch while substitute teaching because it's healthy and delicious lukewarm right out of my lunch bag.  And guess what?  It's even more delicious now that the school year is OVER!!!  WOOOOO!  YEAAAHHHH!!!!  TAKE THAT!!!!!!!

Anyway, I made this for lunch last week alongside marinated anchovies on slices of baguette.  These are not the incredibly salty anchovies that are listed on pizza menus or mashed into puttanesca sauce (which I also like), but rather fresh anchovies marinated in wine vinegar and then bathed in oil.   They're mild and almost refreshing.  You can find them in tapas bars all over Spain (called boquerones en vinagre), but also at Russo's in the refrigerated case near the smoked salmon.  They're great with beer.  And summer vacation!  Mark this combo down as one of my favorite lunches ever.


Spinach and Chickpeas with Garlic and Cumin

If I happen to have some olives kicking around, I might add those, too.

1 Tbsp. olive oil
1 small onion, chopped
1 clove garlic, minced
½ tsp. cumin (or more)
1 14-oz. can chickpeas, drained, rinsed
½ cup tomato sauce
1 lb. spinach or Swiss chard, washed
2-3 drops Tabasco
A squeeze of fresh lemon juice
Salt and pepper to taste

Heat oil in a medium pan over medium heat and sauté onion until transparent, about 4 minutes.  Add garlic and cumin and cook another minute until fragrant.  Add chickpeas, tomato sauce, and spinach.  Cover pan and cook about 4-5 minutes.  Season with Tabasco, lemon juice, salt and pepper, and cook uncovered another minute until most of the excess liquid evaporates. 

Local Ingredients:
Spinach: Waltham Fields Community Farm, Waltham, MA

Garlicky Collard Greens

As you can see from the photo, I have taken one meal and turned it into three separate posts: one for asparagus, one for porchetta, and now one for collards.  It's only taken me five years to get efficient about this whole blogging thing.        Do you want the mashed potato recipe, too?  Let's make it four!

Today, we're talking about simple collard greens.  I think everybody must have a rendition of garlicky greens in their repertoire, whether it's spinach, swiss chard, or kale you prefer.  But people tend to steer clear of collard greens and I ask you why?  They are most delicious and toothsome.  Like kale, they require a little extra time stewing in the pot, but I don't usually let them go more than 15 minutes.  With a pork chop bone in there or some bacon fat, things just get more delicious with every passing minute.  I have been known to have collards for breakfast with a fried egg on top.  Of course, having a tendency toward mild anemia, I get a little crazed around iron-rich foods.  Just put me in a room filled with meat and leafy greens and don't talk to me for three days.

The following technique is good for tough greens like collards, kale, and broccoli rabe, though I'd reduce the cooking time to about 10 minutes for the latter two.  For more delicate greens like spinach, swiss chard, and young beet greens, you don't need any additional liquid beyond the water clinging to the leaves after you wash them.  They'll also cook much more quickly, just a few short minutes for spinach.

Garlicky Collard Greens

The farm bacon around here is so rich and tasty, I find I only need a small amount of bacon fat to get the flavor I want.  You can leave out the bacon entirely, or, if you crave more, by all means dice up a slice or two and fry it in the pot just short of crispy, then proceed from there.

1-2 Tbsp. olive oil
1 tsp. bacon fat
2 cloves garlic, minced
Shake of red pepper flakes
1 bunch collard greens, washed, destemmed all the way up the center, leaves cut crosswise into wide strips
1/4 cup water (or stock)
1/2 tsp. salt
1/4 tsp. black pepper

Heat oil and bacon fat in large pot over medium heat.  Sauté garlic and red pepper flakes about 15 seconds.  Add collards, water, salt, and pepper.  Cover and cook, stirring occasionally, about 15-20 minutes.  Some people cook them longer, say 45 minutes, but I like my greens to be tender while still retaining an ever-so-slight resistance.  You're the boss—do what you like.

Sauerkraut

Today marks a return to my sauerkraut obsession, which has been neglected for far too long.  Oh, you thought I had given up?  Never!  I will not rest until sauerkraut perfection is achieved once again as it was the very first time I attempted it in 2008 when I had no idea what I was doing.

Feel free to play along with your own cabbage.  In 3-5 weeks, when our sauerkraut is ready, we can compare notes/swear words and if you blog about it, I’ll do a sauerkraut roundup linking over to your posts.  Okay?  Here ya go:

 

Sauerkraut

The technique is from Sandor Ellix Katz’s book Wild Fermentation.  A similarly good method can be found in The Joy of Pickling by Linda Ziedrich.  I like to add garlic and other flavorings, but using only cabbage and salt is great, too.

5 lbs. cabbage, cored, shredded thinly
3 Tbsp. sea salt
3 cloves garlic, peeled, crushed
1 Tbsp. juniper berries
2 tsp. caraway seeds
1 tsp. fennel seeds
1 tsp. celery seeds
1 bay leaf

In a large bowl, mix the cabbage with the salt and other flavorings with your hands.  The salt draws the water out of the cabbage and creates a protective brine in which the cabbage can ferment and sour.   Pack it all into a large crock as tight as you can, a little at a time, with your fists or a potato masher.  Set a plate on top of the cabbage.  It should fit snugly inside the crock without getting stuck.  Set a clean jug of water on top.  The weight will help force more water out of the cabbage as well as keep the cabbage submerged as the water level rises.  Cover the whole crock with an old pillowcase to keep out flies and dust.  Check the cabbage over the next 24 hours to make sure it has released enough water to be completely submerged.  If not, add more liquid in a ratio of 1 Tbsp. salt to 1 cup of water (stirred until salt is completely dissolved) until the cabbage is completely covered. 

Let crock sit in a cool dark corner for 3-5 weeks, checking every couple of days to skim off any foam and rinse the plate.  Check the brine level.  Water will evaporate over time, so you may need to add some fresh water to keep the cabbage submerged and prevent it from rotting.  During the fermentation period, do NOT add salt water—only fresh.  To find out why, read here.  When sauerkraut, reaches the desired flavor, use on reubens, make bacon and sauerkraut strudels, bake with bratwurst or pork chops, or eat it all by itself.  Get it right and it's worth the wait!

Local Ingredient Sources:
Cabbage, garlic: Waltham Fields Community Farm, Waltham, MA

Cookbook Friday: Stuffed Mushrooms

Let’s talk about mushrooms!

I have a love/hate relationship with mushrooms.  I love to eat them, but sometimes they make me vomit.  Same with wine (why, God, why?) and, in an unexpected twist this week, sometimes summer squash.  But, like I said, I LOVE mushrooms and will choose to eat them based on how convenient it might be at that moment to vomit spontaneously.

What’s that you say?  It’s never convenient to vomit?  Well, you would be right, sir, but have you ever tasted mushrooms?  They’re delicious.  This is the dilemma of my life.

On the other hand, my dad, Freddie Donroe, has a hate/hate relationship with mushrooms.  Unlike all of the other things my dad claims to hate when he really just doesn’t realize he likes them, my dad really does hate mushrooms.  Here’s why.

When my dad was much, much younger, his father, Albert Donroe (my Poppi), used to take him to forage for mushrooms.  I assume, since Poppi’s family was from Naples, that this was in his blood, or, at the very least, he had some tutelage.  Poppi had a special place they always went, some woods near a quarry in Hamden, Connecticut (maybe East Rock, maybe Sleeping Giant).  There, according to my dad, Poppi would go over every rotting stump he could find and gather mushrooms of every shape and size.  To hear my dad tell the story, Poppi never turned one down, food poisoning be damned. 

After about 45 minutes, and what I can only imagine was my dad’s constant whining, they returned home so Poppi could cook them.  And this is where things got really ugly.  Sometimes, he cooked them in a sauce for spaghetti, but usually they were just sautéed.  The smell was so bad, my dad remembers, he’d completely lose his appetite.  I believe “hellacious” was the word he used to describe it.  Nobody else in the house would touch the stuff, so Poppi just cooked them for himself.  Meanwhile, my dad would make himself scarce for as long as the smell lingered.  To this day, he can’t stomach them.

Now, the question I have is, was Poppi really that bad of a cook?  Perhaps, not a very discriminating hunter/gatherer?  Or were they, in fact, delicious, but my dad just hates mushrooms?  Anyone else ever taste them?  Because I’m willing to bet I would have been smacking my lips, even as they were wheeling me to the ER.  (Poppi, by the way, is a whopping 93.)

The following recipe is Nonni’s Marchigiano recipe for stuffed mushrooms.  They have never made me vomit. 

 

Stuffed Mushrooms

The secret to these is long, slow cooking in a cool oven.  Don’t rush them.

10 oz. package button mushrooms
3 Tbsp. olive oil
1 Tbsp. garlic, minced
¼ cup fresh bread crumbs
½ cup grated Parmesan cheese
Salt and pepper

Preheat oven to 300°F.  To the bottom of an 8”x8” pan, add 1 Tbsp. of the oil. 

Using a damp towel, wipe dirt off of mushrooms.  Gently, pull out the stems and chop them finely.  In a medium bowl, combine chopped stems with garlic, bread crumbs, cheese, salt, and pepper.  Working over the bowl, mound stuffing into hollowed out mushrooms.  Set in oiled pan.  Drizzle with remaining 2 Tbsp. of oil.  Bake uncovered for 1 hour or longer (Nonni cooks the hell out of them and that’s how I like them). 

Dora [Barbaresi] Donroe
Hamden, Connecticut
1918 -

 

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Cookbook Friday: Stuffed Artichokes

This photo was taken in 1954 at the Horace Day School in New Haven, Connecticut.  Freddie Donroe, my dad, is on the far left in the second row from the bottom.

Cute as he was, he was known far and wide as a brat.  Not only did he steal anything with silver paper, but also, according to his aunts and uncles, he always had to have his way.  One day, the whole family was planning a trip to the Bronx Zoo.  No one wanted to bring Freddie.  His Uncle Gerry summed it up best: “He’ll end up wanting a giraffe, and I’m not cutting a hole in the roof of my car for his pet giraffe.”  (He did eventually get to the zoo, and no giraffes went missing.)

In honor of my dad, here’s one of his favorite recipes.  Happy Father’s Day!

 

Stuffed Artichokes

The heart is usually considered the best part of the artichoke, but this tasty stuffing will make you appreciate the leaves, too.

6 large artichokes
3 or 4 cloves of garlic, chopped
¾ cup breadcrumbs
¾ cup Parmesan cheese
¾ cup olive oil

Cut off stems of artichokes so they will sit flat.  Cut off top third of artichokes to remove the sharp thistles.  Remove and discard the tough leaves from the bottom two layers.  Using kitchen scissors, cut off any remaining sharp tips from the leaves.  Holding the bottom of the artichoke, bang it upside-down to open the leaves for easier stuffing.

Fill bottom of pan with 1½ inches of water.  Place artichokes in pan.  Divide garlic equally between the six artichokes and rub into the crevices between the leaves.  Sprinkle 2 Tbsp. breadcrumbs and 2 Tbsp. Parmesan cheese over each artichoke, then drizzle each with 2 Tbsp. olive oil.  Cover pan with foil and bake at 300°F for 2 hours. 

To eat, pull off leaves one at a time and holding the tough, upper part of the leaf, use your teeth to scrape the stuffing and tender artichoke meat into your mouth.  Continue, making a pile of leaves on your plate, until you reach the heart.  With a spoon, gently scrape away the fuzzy choke.  The heart is what’s left.  Enjoy.

Dora [Barbaresi] Donroe
New Haven, Connecticut
1918 –

 

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