Restaurant Widow

You Win, Chef Tanis. Or, Very Simple Hearts of Artichokes

I've never really understood artichokes. I'll admit it. Packed in vinegar they're just another pickled vegetable for the antipasti plate, canned they are just tasteless bits of texture to add to pasta, and blended into dips, well, to be quite honest I'm not quite sure why they are present at all.

Until recently, I could recount exactly two great artichoke experiences. Like many of my best vegetable experiences (if they ever have the Russian winter vegetable salad on the menu, order it) one took place at the Winds Cafe in Yellow Springs. It was very early in the springtime and we were having dinner with one of Husband's mentors in the wine world and his wife, and our table was sent a platter of fried baby artichokes. These were tiny - the size of a baby's fist - and were on long stalks. The entire vegetable had been dipped in cornmeal and fried, and was served with some sort of caper remoulade, if memory serves me.

I remember eating one and being very pleased, indeed - this is the closest I've come to getting the artichoke! I said to Husband. In the back of my mind, though, I was aware this might have more to do with the use of a fryer and mayonnaise. 

Also, once upon a time when I was a child, my mother prepared steamed artichokes, along with a zesty butter and vinegar dipping sauce on the side; one plucked a spiny leaf, dipped it in the sauce, and then scraped the thick part of the leaf with one's teeth. As a budding child gourmande I thought it was fabulously decadent and fancy.

But still, it seemed more of a device to get butter sauce to my mouth.

So it was, when Chef David Tanis came to town last week, I resolved to ask him to explain to me what it is about artichokes. 

I explained my ambivalence to artichokes and asked what I was missing? Ever chef I respect seems to adore artichokes, and waxes poetic about them as a seasonal delight. 

Chef Tanis laughed and said that for him, a lot of it had to do with being in Italy. He recounted a story of spending time with an older woman in Italy. They'd had a large lunch and when they began discussing dinner, the Italian woman said "oh, I'm not very hungry. I think I'll just have an artichoke for dinner." Artichokes, he said, were a staple in Italy. Every store has a basket of them out front, and they are the vegetable preferred above all others.

Chef Tanis encouraged me to buy a few artichokes, and prepare the hearts very simply - just a little olive oil, salt and pepper," he said, "and I dare you not to like them."

One thing I found very charming about Chef Tanis was his dismissal of the notion that we couldn't find a good artichoke in Ohio - "I've found good artichokes in a Safeway in New Jersey. You can find perfectly good artichokes anywhere." Even though I of course embrace local foods, I grow weary of the idea that one can't get "anything good" in Ohio - one can't find good sushi, or good fish, or good oysters, etc. And yet, I had the best oyster of my life in San Francisco, and it had been flown there from the East Coast of Canada. I've had amazing fish here in Columbus, flown in overnight from the Honolulu Fish Company or purchased at Tokyo's Tsukigi fish market and picked up at Port Columbus. The notion that chefs or grocery stores in Columbus can't source great ingredients simply because we are landlocked is pure silliness. Consider yourself lectured.

At any rate, the other day I was strolling though the produce section and recalled the words which had been haunting me since meeting Chef Tanis: "I dare you not to like them."

I picked up two and fancied myself as the Italian woman - I really want to be the sort of woman who says "oh, I'm not very hungry, I think I'll just have an artichoke."


I won't go into details about the proper cleaning of artichokes, because the wonderful ladies at The Kithcn have done a great job and there's no need to reinvent the pictorial tutorial they've already put together. I trimmed mine down a bit more than they did, ending up with just the heart and a bit of stem.

I opted out of the acidulated water part of the preparation, because I wanted to taste the true flavor of the choke, with no acidity. I wouldn't recommend this if you are going to prepare the chokes for a group, because they turn brown with amazing swiftness, but it was just me, and just lunch.

Artichokes can be eaten raw and really don't require cooking, so I let this inform my preparation by simply sauteeing the chokes briefly in hot butter (in a nonstick pan), just to get bits of them brown and crisp. I added a good bit of salt and really just tossed them around until they looked like I wanted to eat them. All told, they were in the pan less than 3 minutes.

I ate the first batch straight from the pan, but refrained long enough to photograph them on the second go-round.

They were delicious. Firm and very slightly starchy, they tasted much nuttier than I thought - very much like salsify, another sadly underrated vegetable here in the US. The butter set them off wonderfully, as did the salt. I can't imagine why we so frequently cover up their taste and texture by overcooking, canning, brining, pickling, or pureeing them into dips. They really are so wonderful just on their own. 

Cleaning the chokes took about 2 minutes each - really not that bad in the scheme of things. True, there is waste if you are only using the hearts, and it seems like a lot of work in theory, but it isn't. Simply snap off the tough leaves, then cut the choke across, lengthwise, scoop out the chose, and then do a bit of peeling. That's all.

Working in the kitchen, learning to cook - or re-learning to cook - is largely about confronting fears and misconceptions. Artichokes had always seemed like a huge worthless pain to me - so much work for so little reward. But in truth they take no more work than peeling and chopping a carrot. Learning to love something new is well worth the reward.

Thanks for the dare, Chef, you were right. 

RW Supper #2 Creamed Corn Recipe

I had a good questions regarding cutting the kernels off the corn, here's my response:

Good question.  I use a pretty sharp sushi knife - not an expensive one, just a $15 one I bought from Tensuke market.  I like to actually blanch the corn for about a minute first, and then shock it in cold water.  It really helps to keep the kernels from going everywhere when you are cutting them off.  I only cut about halfway through the kernels - the knife should slide right through.  Then, I take the back of the knife and run it over the cob, to get all the yummy stuff out.

I have this feeling that if I don't give out the creamed corn recipe and soon, I will arrive home one day to an angry, corn-hungry mob.  I am afraid you will be scandalized when I tell you how easy it is.  There are a few keys here.  Namely, really, really good bacon and lots of fat.

It's almost too easy.  Because let's face it, bacon + cream make everything better.  But I do think this is one of those occasions where the best ingredients truly do make a difference.  I just don't think you would get the same result with cheap, thin, grocery store bacon and canned corn.  Everything - except the bacon - in this recipe was local and of the best quality.  Which isn't to say it's the most expensive - seriously, I bought a half gallon of Snowville Creamery heavy cream (at Weilands - thanks guys!!) which we used for making butter, whipped cream, and in the creamed corn.  It was $8, which might seem high, but 2 quarts of Kroger brand heavy cream was $8.40.  So the Kroger brand is more expensive and you have no idea where that milk comes from or how the cows were treated.

The bacon used here was Broadbent Bacon; it comes from 400 miles away in Kuttawa, KY, which is local, according to Whole Foods.  I wouldn't really consider it local per se, but it really, truly is incredible.  You can buy it at Weiland's, where it is in front of the meat case (not refrigerated).  I used the maplewood smoked bacon; I had so many complements on the bacon, I thought it was worth noting.  This is pretty much a staple here in the Widow household, because even one piece will add amazing flavor to a whole pot of, say, cabbage.  If you must have local bacon, I wholeheartedly recommend both Blues Creek bacon (in the North Market) and Thurn's amazing double-smoked bacon.

Okay, enough preachy talky, more bacon, please.

I'm going to do my best to provide a real recipe, because the truth is, I don't use one.  I just have a feel for these things.  After you make it a few times, you will, too.  I promise.

Lisa & Jon's Creamed Corn - Serves 2

4-8 strips really good thick bacon, depending on how many bites the cook will eat, cut into strips
2 small leeks or a medium onion, diced
6 ears corn, kernels removed
salt
pepper
2 cloves garlic, mushed
Heavy Cream - let's say 1/4 cup, but probably more

Render the bacon in a nonstick pan over medium heat.  Drain off half the fat (leave bacon in pan) and add the onions (we used small leeks from the Wayward Seed CSA).  Stir until they begin to soften, about 3 minutes, and then add the corn and season with salt, pepper, and crushed garlic.  Add the heavy cream - there should be enough to make the corn look more creamy than corny, and then let it simmer for about 20 minutes, or until the cream has reduced and everything is creamy and yummy looking (yes, that's a scientific cooking term).  If I were at home, cooking for myself, I'd add a nice dash of cayenne pepper powder.

Okay!  There's your recipe!  I hope you enjoy!  And remember, it's full of dairy, which has calcium.  Calcium is good for you.  So is corn.  And bacon, while it might not be good for your waistline, is very good for your soul.  (If you see the pictures others took of the dinner and of me, you will see that my, er, soul, is very well fed.  Maybe a litte too well fed, quite frankly.  I think it's time to take my soul for a few long walks.)

Eating Dinner with Your CSA, Market Finds, etc - More Very Simple Recipes

I was making dinner tonight, and although everything was really simple, I thought it might be useful for some of my readers - especially those who are afraid of the kitchen - to see a typical summertime dinner here at Chez Widow.  People frequently ask me if dinner every day is a culinary extravaganza.  (As much as I'd love to maintain the illusion)  Ha!  Hardly.  Why, in the past 12 hours I have eaten Hounddog's, for the love of Italian sausage!  But when we cook, which we probably do on a largish scale (like this) once a week, this is typical; natural, unprossessed food, fresh from the market, seasonal; there's very rarely a cookbook involved, just intuition.  And especially during this season of bounty, everything is very simple in our kitchen, and ingredient-focused.  This is the way I love to cook, and I think the more people get used to cooking with the seasons, using great ingredients - which, contrary to popular opinion, are generally not more expensive than those from the grocery store.  At least not when quality and taste are taken into account - the more people will become excited about food, and passionate about eating in season and locally.  Even though I have a pork chop here, and bacon, the meat could easily be removed for a vegetarian meal - maybe through some mushrooms on the grill or something.

So, here's the dinner plate:

Clockwise from the upper left, we have crushed red thumb potatoes, pork chop, sweet corn with bacon and scallions, broccoli raab, and glazed carrots with spring onions.  Whew!  It sounds like a lot, but in truth it can't take any more than an hour to get together, if even that.  Everything cooks in pretty much 15 minutes, so it's mostly a matter of having a few spare pans lying about.

Recipes - all for 2 servings

Crushed Red Thumb Potatoes

1 pint red thumb or other delicious potaotes, scrubbed - skins on for optimum health, please, and halved
1 tbsp good extra virgin olive oil
kosher salt

Boil the potatoes in heavily salted water until they are fork tender and drain.  Crush them lightly with the back of a wooden spoon.  Drizzle the olive oil over the potatoes and sprinkle with the salt.  Give them a little stir and serve.  Easy as pie.

Sweet Corn with Bacon

4 slices of bacon, cut into lardons
6 scallions, sliced - white and green parts, but separated
4 ears sweet corn, kernels cut from cob
1/4 cup chicken or vegetable stock, or water
1 tbsp cream 1/2 and 1/2
Salt and Pepper
Cayenne Pepper

Render the bacon in a nonstick pan over medium heat until the bacon is crisp.  Remove the bacon to drain on paper towels and strain all but a tablespoon of fat out of the pan (save that delicious bacon fat, please).  Place the white parts of the scallions in the pan and saute for a minute, then add the corn kernels and the chicken stock.  Bring heat to medium-high and cook until the chicken stock has cooked down, then add the cream/1/2 and 1/2 and season with salt and pepper, and cayenne pepper (to taste).  Add the bacon and scallions and stir briefly until everything is nice and creamy and the cream is mostly cooked out.  YUM!

Broccoli Raab

Large handful of broccoli raab or other bitter green, washed in several changes of water
olive oil
red pepper flakes
Salt and Pepper

Remove the leaves and florets from the stems of the broccoli raab; you can also use the stems, but chop them into thin strips and begin cooking them first.

Wash any grit or sand from the broccoli raab - you don't need to cut the leaves, because they will shrink down.  Heat a pan over high heat and add a good glug of extra virgin olive oil to the pan - add the leaves to the pan - be careful, because the water left on the leaves will splatter - and give them a sprinkling of salt, pepper and red pepper flakes.  Toss lightly with tongs and cook until the raab is wilted down and the water in the pan is gone (don't let it burn!); this only takes a few minutes (3 or so).

Glazed Baby Carrots and Spring Onions

2 tbps butter
1 tbsp olive oil
10 or baby carrots, scrubbed well, a few millimeters of tops left on, for cuteness, if desired, and halved lengthwise
2 largish Spring onions, halved and tops removed
1 cup chicken stock
1 tbsp sweet rice wine, white wine or vermouth
1/2 tbsp lemon juice
salt and pepper
2 tbps brown sugar or palm sugar

Heat a pan over medium high heat (I like to use nonstick) and melt the butter in the olive oil.  Add the carrots and onions; if you like, you can put everything face down so that they get all nicely browned.  Leave them alone to saute away for about 2 minutes, and then add the stock and the rice wine and add the sugar.  Cook until the chicken stock is mostly gone, then add the lemon juice.  Cook until everything is nice and syrupy and season with salt and pepper.  If the carrots aren't soft to your liking after the first cookdown of stock, add more and cook until it's cooked down again.  This method of cooking - browning something in a fat and then adding a liquid and cooking until it is absorbed, is known as a "fondant," and is very affective for lots of veggies, especially hard vegetables such as potatoes, rutabagas, and carrots.

And there you have it!  Dinner is served!  And in truth, other than the produce from the farmer's market, you only need a few pantry staples to get everything from market bag to table.

Happy Cooking!

Local Sources I used for this dinner:  Broccoli Raab, Carrots and scallions from my Wayward Seed Farm CSA (North Market, Clintonville, and Worthington markets), but everything was also available for sale at the market.  Cream from Snowville, and butter was homemade from Snowville as well.  Sweet corn from Rhoads' (North Market), potatoes from Arbor Hill Organics (Clintonville & Worthington farmer's markets).  Spring onions came from a farmer at the Clintonville market whose name I can't remember.  Bacon and pork chop came from Weiland's.

Letting Go of the Fear of Tofu

top to bottom: fried bean curd, plain baked tofu, extra firm tofu, and savory baked tofu.

Poor tofu.  You've been so mishandled by well-meaning (I assume) people, you've made everyone fear you; particularly meat-eating Americans.  Asians, after all, blend you with everything, wisely using you to stretch out small amounts of meat.

Of course, we know you're good for us, and you contain lots of protein, but you're slimy.  And slippery.  And weird.

Except when you aren't.

I've had my own fearful relationship with tofu, for the same reason.  It just seemed as though it could never be drained or pressed enough to not turn into a jiggly, watery mess.  And then I started buying "fried bean curd," which is fried tofu, and it was better.  It held up to stir-frying.  Of course, it had slightly more fat, but still nothing compared to most meat (around 8 grams of fat per serving).  So I started buying all sorts of tofu, just to experiment.  Most of these types of tofu can replace meat in any quickly-cooked method, and you can use them uncooked - for instance, added to my spicy sesame noodles, or in the salad recipe I have below.

Of course, there are the silky types of tofu you know from the produce section, but these fried, dried and baked tofus are typically found at Asian groceries.  While fried tofu, sometimes called tofu cutlet, can be found at Japanese groceries such as Tensuke, baked and dried tofu are more easily discovered at Asian groceries which specialize in Chinese specialties.  Columbus Asian Market (CAM, corner of Bethel & Olentangy River Road in the Olentangy Plaza) has a huge variety of tofu, both in the produce section and in the refrigerated section back by the rice.

Fried Bean Curd (tofu) is just as it sounds.  It words very well in stir fries
Baked tofu has been baked and is dehydrated; the texture is smooth without being gritty, it is very firm, slices almost like a chicken breast, and can be used in soup, stir fries, and raw in noodles or salads.
Extra Firm tofu (vacuum packed in blocks, not in the puff pack from the produce aisle) has an almost crumbly texture, similar to a strained, hard curd cheese.  It can be sliced and used in stir fries, and will stand up well in soups because it can take in a lot of water.
Savory baked tofu is just like regular baked tofu, except it has been soaked in soy sauce, which makes it quite lovely when used raw in salads, as in the recipe below.
Dried tofu (not pictured) has an almost haloumi-like quality, and is also very good in stir fries, in miso soup, or raw in salads, as I used it in the recipe below. 

Tofu makes a very inexpensive protein source - 4 blocks (4 servings) of tofu cost about $2.  Of course, tofu by itself does not equal a complete protein; to create a complete protein, serve tofu with a scoop of rice, some nuts (as below), eggs or dairy products.

I copied this recipe after something I bought premade at CAM.  This salad is great because it can be served cold or at room temperature; that means it is great for packing in lunches.

Edamame & Tofu Salad with Almonds - serves 2-4

1 cup frozen edamame peas (green soy beans), out of shell
1 block each savory baked tofu and dried tofu (or 2 of one)
1 tbsp olive oil
1 tbsp soy sauce
1 tsp sesame oil
2 tsp garlic chili paste (sambal)
3 tbsp roasted & salted almonds or peanuts (I used Marcona almonds, because that's all we had in the house)

Place the edamame in a small pan and cover with water.  Bring to a boil over high heat, add a little sprinkle of salt, and boil for five minutes.  Strain, spray with cold water to chill the beans, and set aside.

Cut the tofu into 1/2" cubes and place in a bowl.

Combine the sauce mixture (olive oil through chili paste) in a bowl and pour about 1 tbsp over the tofu chunks.  Stir and allow them to marinate for about 5 minutes.  Add the peas, pour over the rest of the sauce, and add the almonds, reserving a few sprinkles for serving.  Place in a bowl and sprinkle remaining almonds over. 

An Actual Recipe! Cold Spicy Sesame Noodles

This is a favorite in the Widow Household, especially after work, because they are great cold from the fridge.  You can moderate the spice level to suit your palate, and it's one of those recipes that you can make once and then adjust as you'd like.  I like things decently spicy; here, the peanut butter and sesame paste balance the heat with sweetness.  I like to add cubes of baked tofu to the noodles; shredded, cooked chicken breast would be good, too, and would turn the noodles into a meal.  These are also good for packed lunches and picnics, because they can get to room temperature and still be tasty.

Cold Spicy Sesame Noodles - serves 4-6

1 (13 ounce) package of Japanese noodles, or spaghetti
2 tbsp sesame seeds
1/4 cup peanut butter*
2 tbsp soy sauce (I like to use "light colored" soy sauce, or lowish sodium)
1 tbsp Vietnamese chili paste (sambal - in the chili sauce section of the Asian grocery)
2 tsp sesame oil
2 tbsp Japanese sesame paste (or tahini, but I think the Japanese version, which is much thicker, is better and has a more refined flavor)
2 tsp ginger/garlic paste, or 1 minced garlic clove and 1/2" piece of ginger, peeled and minced
2 tsp rice wine vinegar (unseasoned/without sugar)
4 scallions, green parts, cut into thin rings (I forgot to buy them today, so they aren't in the picture; they do make the noodles prettier)

Cook the noodles according to package directions, being sure not to overcook them.  Drain and rinse very well, tossing with tongs under cold running water to be sure they are thoroughly cold (otherwise they will continue cooking and turn to mush).

In a small dry pan, toast the sesame seeds over medium heat, tossing the pan, until they are shiny and fragrant.  They burn very quickly, so be careful!  Remove from heat and set aside.

In a small pan, combine the peanut butter through the rice vinegar.  Heat over medium heat, stirring to melt the peanut butter.  When everything is incorporated, pour the hot mixture over the cold noodles, tossing the noodles with tongs to be sure the noodles are evenly coated.  Let the mixture sit at room temperature or place in the fridge for half an hour to allow the flavors to mingle.  When ready to serve, top the noodles with the scallions and sesame seeds.  YUM!

I find garlic and ginger paste to be a great short cut in the kitchen, especially when making Asian food.  It is available at Indian grocery stores, such as Patel Brothers in the Kenny Centre (corner of Kenny & Old Henderson on the NW side, near Tensuke Japanese Grocery store).

*if you are using natural, non-homogenized peanut butter, add a few tbsp of the oil from the peanut butter jar to be sure everything mixes together.

To help you with your shopping, left to right, front - ginger/garlic paste; Japanese sesame paste; fresh chili paste; back, light color soy sauce:

Yet Another Ridiculously Simple Recipe - Lima Beans

Sometimes, when I'm standing in the kitchen trying to decide if something is worth writing about, I wonder why I should even bother writing about something as simple as boiling and peeling fresh Lima beans, but then I remember what it was like to be a young cook.  I have never been the sort of person who wants outrageous recipes - if the ingredients are ones with which I'm familiar, then I don't really need a recipe, I can figure out what tastes good on my own.  What I really needed was a basic formula.  Say, potatoes cut into 1/2" pieces take about 12 minutes to steam until they can be mashed.  Green beans take about 7 minutes of steaming before they can be sauteed with bacon.  That sort of thing.

It is with this in mind that I offer you these ridiculously simple recipes, because I don't think you always want a recipe for Lima bean gratin with three varieties of pork trimmings and loads of butter and heavy cream.  I think sometimes, we just want an alternative to cooking frozen veggies (in truth, I really don't have anything against frozen veggies, I use them all the time in the winter).  But, when we are used to cooking with frozen vegetables, and the directions are right there on the package, I think sometimes we can be stumped by the fresh alternative.

Lima beans, as I've mentioned before, can be difficult to find in their fresh form, but this time of year, they are really beginning to come into season, and I think it's worth seeking them out.  For all the derision they take, they are really almost as good as fava beans, if a little more meaty and nutty.  I think of them as the fava bean's Autumnal cousin.  Whereas favas are green and delicate, Limas are rich and hearty.  They bridge the gap between a fresh beans such as a fava, and a starchier bean, like a kidney bean.  I prepare them in much the same way as favas, that is to say, remove from pod, boil, peel, and boil again. 

The flavor of the Lima bean is so delightfully creamy, they really don't need a lot of help in the gussying up department, although they are good with a nice stirring of butter and salt, but I prefer them - can you guess it?  Yes, with a little extra virgin olive oil.  This is completely irrational, but for some reason, I don't think of olive oil as having the fat or caloric content of butter.  It's silly because it has slightly more fat than butter (because butter contains a small percentage of water, whereas olive oil is pure fat); I suppose it has something to do with its green flavor, and the fact that it is good for one's heart.  I just feel better eating it than butter.  Well, until the winter time.  There's just nothing like butter on winter squash.  But I digress.

Now, Husband is always reminding me that Lima beans contain cyanide, and that they have to be cooked forever with the lid off.  I got to thinking about this the other day and decided to consult my good friend Harold McGee.  It turns out that while some tropical and wild varieties of Lima beans do contain cyanidic compounds, commercial varieties do not.  Of course, you still want to cook them thoroughly so that they can achieve that delicious creamy texture.

Basic Method for Fresh Lima Beans

It's a little more time-consuming than frozen, but I think it's worth the effort.  Remove the beans from the pods and rinse under cold water.  Place the beans in a small pot and cover with water.  Bring to a boil and boil them for about 5 minutes, or about 2 minutes after the skin has begun to look pale and puckery.  Drain and rinse under cold water until they are cool to the touch.  Remove the tough outer skins by poking a hole in the "belly button" with your fingernail or a knife.  The bean will pop right out - although the skins are a little tougher than fava bean skins, they pull away from the bean much easier than the favas, so this isn't nearly as time consuming.  I like to skin them right over the same pot, and then cover them with water again.  Bring to a boil again and cook for about 10-15 minutes, or until the beans have reached desired softness.  Drain and return to the pot again, putting the beans (with no water) back over high heat for just a few seconds, to dry them off.  Toss the pan a little whilst doing this.  Remove from heat and drizzle with good extra virgin olive oil, or coat with a pat of butter, then season to taste with salt and pepper.  For the dish pictured above, I paired the Limas with pan seared salmon which I topped off with a simple salad of shaved red bell pepper tossed with rice vinegar and salt.  Yes, it is similar to the Spring version of this dish, here, with favas.

You can read other simple recipes here, here, here, and here.  For succotash, click here.

Succotash

 
It's that time of year.  Sweet corn and lima beans are in season at the same time.  Yeah, baby, it's succotash time.  Oh, you hate lima beans?  I don't think you do.  I think you hate canned lima beans.  Even frozen limas are miles better than canned.  But fresh lima beans?  Nothing beats fresh limas.  Soft, creamy, buttery - they're a delight.  And almost impossible to find.  Fortunately I managed to snag one (only one?!) bag at the farm markets last week.  They can be found (in short supply, apparantly) at Toad Hill Organics at the North Market), and you might be able to find them at Whole Foods.

Growing up, my mother's family had a succotash soup dinner each summer.  Looking back, it was a little bizarre - sweet corn, potatoes (I think there wer potatoes) and lima beans were cooked in milk and served with saltines.  I have never seen or heard of something similar elsewhere.  As a child, I liked it and hated it at the same time; but for some reason, that's where I remember learning that milk and pepper went really, really well together.  I can still see that rather peaked brew, little black pepper flakes floating on top.  I would put the vegetables on top of a buttered saltine.  (oh how I loved buttered saltines!)  This is the same family, by the way, who ate coffee soup: crunched up saltines topped with coffee, sugar, and milk.  One day, we'll talk about the strange things my dad's side of the family ate - those crazy Amish folk.

At any rate, the minute my fingers touched the pack of limas, they told me they wanted to be made into succotash.  Simple, healthy, full of bright late summer flavors, not filled with cream or butter or even *gasp* bacon, just pure vegetable-y goodness.  And a tiny little bit of spice.

This is yet another of those incredibly simple summer dishes.  Everything is fresh, local and full of flavor.  You could certainly add bacon at the beginning, to good effect (and you might try some of the Wayward Seed's incredible jowl bacon, which you have to ask for at the market).  You could add potatoes (I made potatoes along with this and mixed the two together for dinner) if you like, or really anything you find at the market.  It just now occured to me that my Toby Run shitakes would have been a good addition.  Next time. I bought lots of peppers at the market this week; you of course, don't have to go out of your way to use three types of peppers.

Late Summer Farm Market Succotash - serves 2

Cooking Spray (I like olive oil spray)
2 small white onions
1 small leek, white and light green parts only, slivered and rinsed of any dirt
pinch of cayenne pepper
1/2 sweet red bell pepper, peeled and cut into small dice
1/2 long mildly hot red pepper, small dice
1/2 poblano pepper, peeled and cut into small dice
1/4 cup sweet corn broth (I just happened to be making a batch and it was still on the stove - you can substitute any vegetable or chicken stock)
1 cup lima beans - blanched for about 10 minutes, or until soft, if fresh.  I happened to have a chunk of rind from a piece of Oakvale aged Gouda I used up this week, so I tossed that into the water for a little flavor, but don't feel like you have to.
4 ears of sweet corn, blanched for 4 minutes and then kernals removed, or about 1 cup frozen corn
salt and pepper

Heat a nonstick skillet over medium-high heat and spray with a little olive oil spray.  Add the onions and the leek and dust with cayenne pepper.  Cook until they begin to soften - about 5 minutes, then add the peppers and cook until they begin to soften - about 5 more minutes.  Add the stock and cook for a minute or so, until it has reduced a little, then add the sweet corn and limas.  Cook until the stock has cooked off and season with salt and pepper.  Serve immediately.

Local sources for this recipe:  I purchased the onions - cippolinis - from Wayward Seed farm, along with the poblano pepper.  The hot pepper and the sweet corn came from my CSA this week, and the limas were from Toad Hill. 

Recipes from the Clintonville Farmer's Market

First of all, THANK YOU! to everyone who came out to say hi at the Clintonville Farmer's Market.  It was so incredible to meet all of you and make some new friends as well.  This sounds like such a dorky cliché, but all of your kind words really made my day.  My week, actually.  I think my head is kind of big now, which can only mean I'm due for some humiliation in the coming days.  I'll try to keep my (giant) head low.

The day was lovely - the weather was perfect, with low humidity and a pleasant breeze.  I've been on a bit of a cooking hiatus lately, so it was almost nice to not have the opportunity to shop - I won't have to feel guilty if I don't do any cooking.  Well, I'll feel guilty for not writing anything, but that's an entirely differently kind of guilty.

At any rate, here are my recipes from yesterday's tasting.  Alas, no pictures.

Balsamic Macerated Watermelon

It was fun to see everyone's surprise at how delicious this "recipe" is.  I can't count how many people asked if there was sugar or salt or something else in the watermelon.  Nope - just about an ounce of balsamic - the good stuff, the real thing, 12 year balsamic vinegar from Carfagna's at $18 a bottle - poured over one watermelon, cut into chunks, and left to sit in the fridge for 10 - 15 minutes.  I know you're skeptical, but you should try it.  For a surprising salad, top the watermelon with salty crumbled feta, or grated ricotta salata (a pressed, salted sheep's milk ricotta from Italy, also available at Carfagna's).

Sweet Corn Salad - serves 4

8 ears sweet corn
1 red bell pepper, roasted, and cut into small dice
1 poblano pepper, roasted, and cut into small dice
1 cup grape or cherry tomatoes, quartered or halved
1/4 cup good extra virgin olive oil
handful fresh herbs (such as tarragon, oregano, and basil) or 1 tbsp dried Italian herb blend
pinch cayenne pepper
1 tsp salt
pinch freshly cracked black pepper

Have a large bowl of ice water ready, next to the stove.  Bring a large pot of water to a boil and blanch the ears of corn, 4 at a time if necessary, for 3 minutes.  Place the hot ears in the bowl of ice water to stop the cooking process, and allow them to sit in the water for about 5 minutes.  Cut the kernels from the cob - again, you've heard me say it before, but cutting the kernels should be very easy.  If you struggle, you probably have a dull knife (my favorite is a nice sharp sushi knife), or you are trying to cut the kernels too deep.  You only need to remove the top half of the kernels.  Place the kernels in a large bowl and add the peppers and tomatoes, toss lightly to combine.

In a small bowl, combine the olive oil, herbs, cayenne pepper, salt and pepper together and pour over the sweet corn.  Stir to combine completely and allow to sit at room temperature or in the fridge for about 1/2 hour to let the flavors meld, then give the salad another stir, taste and correct seasoning as needed.

Roasted Three Color Potatoes, and a Little Bit on the Topic of "Good" Extra Virgin Olive Oil

Updated Friday morning for this: although they aren't my favorite place to buy a corned beef sandwhich in Columbus, I would be remiss not to mention Katzingers when talking about tasting olive oil, since they have a very wide selection and always have some out to taste. 

It has only now just occurred to me that I might never be able to write a cookbook.  I might be able to steer hungry cooks - and shoppers - in the right direction, but then I would say something like: steam for 3 minutes, toss in good extra virgin olive oil, sprinkle with salt and pepper, and serve.  Perfect!  Or, in this case, replace "serve" with "put in 450 degree oven 10-25 minutes, or until everything is browned and crispy.  Delicious!

So, when I was getting ready to write this post, upon realizing this fact, I thought I'd answer a question I received from a reader recently: What sort of olive oil do you use?  This is a loaded question, because I love olive oil, and I'm frequently torn between the cheap adequate stuff and the expensive, over-the-top delicious stuff.  One problem is that Husband, who I love with all my heart, will reach in the cupboard, grab whatever olive oil is closest, and use it for sauteing.  I know that Mario is always saying Italians would only ever cook in extra virgin olive oil, but when I've spent $25 for a half liter bottle of olive oil, I really want to save it for finishing or roasting, and not for cooking.  This is probably completely subjective, but I find that good extra virgin olive oil showcases its flavors when used in roasting (such as when roasting potatoes or, my favorite - olive oil soaked, sea-salt dusted, homemade croutons), but the flavors are lost when used to saute.  I might totally be wrong, but I've taken to hiding the expensive stuff and having cheap bottles within easy reach.

Click here to learn more about what extra virgin olive oil is, and what makes it special and good for you.  Of course, it's Wikipedia, so take it with a grain of sea salt.

You can also take my advice with a grain of sea salt, because I am no olive oil expert - I know it makes a few of your nervous when I say those sorts of things, but wouldn't you be more nervous if I led you astray?  I've learned all of these things by trial and error.  And lots of years in restaurant work.

Okay, so what kind of olive oil do I use?  First of all, please keep in mind that I have not tried every type of olive oil out there, and even I am overwhelmed by the varieties offered.  I am also a little irritated with Whole Foods for taking out their olive oil tasting bar, because I consider it quite risky to purchase a $20 bottle of olive oil without tasting it first, and it isn't as though they have someone there to help me out, like they do in the wine department.  I tend to stick with Italian olive oils, although I do frequently buy California and Spanish olive oils, and occasionally Greek.  As a general rule, and I don't mean to sound like a snob here, but I don't buy extra virgin olive oil in the grocery store. 

Heat and light destroy olive oil, so it's important to purchase it in very dark containers or in metal cans, or in something like this cool new Tetrapak I bought a few days ago at Weiland's (pictured below).  Store your olive oil away from the stove.  Of course, I am a total hypocrite here because we store it above the stove.  Fortunately we use olive oil very quickly in our household. 

Here's another caveat: I can usually buy really good olive oil at wholesale, from Chef.  So that means I spend about half (or less) what you would to purchase it in a store.  I'm going to give you some options for less expensive brands, though, so bear with me. 

My absolute favorite olive oil is Falconero (you have to scroll down, about 6 rows, left side).  I haven't found it for sale locally, but I am sure if I tried hard enough, I could convince someone at the North Market (cough-Curds & Whey-cough cough) to bring it in for me, as it is distributed locally.  You can buy it online for $26 through the link above.  My second favorite is probably Ceppo Antico, which is about $22 for 500 mg; as of last week, Ceppo was carried by Weiland's, along with other good olive oils.  I have to admit that when I have really good, expensive olive oil on hand, I have a tendency to hoard it (a bad habit I'm trying to rid myself of).  Of course, hoarding it does no good, as it doesn't last forever, or really even very long, so there's no point in hoarding.  You may as well drizzle it freely over everything that strikes your fancy, reminding yourself the whole time how happy you're making your heart.  You might eventually find, like we have, that olive oil will begin to replace butter as your fat of choice.

So what about decent alternatives?  Head to that old budget gourmet standby, Trader Joe's.  I have found 2 really great, budget-friendly extra virgin olive oils at Trader Joe's, the California estate olive oil (center) and the Italian "First Lady Reserve."  Both of these olive oils offer a nice fruity, peppery olivey flavor and cost a mere $6 per bottle.  (and here's the part where you might disagree - I remember reading on someone's chef food blog, can't remember whose, and it was a long time ago, that you can't expect to make a good mayo or salad dressing with "Trader Joe's Crap Olive Oil."  See?  That person might be right, or I might be, who knows.  That's why I began by saying I'm no expert) And, after the packaging sucked me in to the Spanish olive oil on the left, I think I've found a great all-purpose (Husband can use it for sauteing, and I can use it for roasting and finishing, in a pinch) olive oil, a steal at $12 for a full liter (left, purchased at Weiland's).  Although it's hard to see in the picture, the Spanish olive oil is tetrapacked in an octagonal container, so it pours just like it's coming from a bottle, but it is perfectly packaged to keep heat and light out.  Any of these olive oils make a nice "intro" to "good" extra virgin olive oil without breaking the bank. 

And now, another recipe!  This recipe is a great way to show off the variety of potatoes available at the farmer's markets.  Of course, I've never met a potato I didn't love, and would be happy with pretty much any sort of potato, but the variety makes things fun.

Olive Oil Roasted Tri-Color Potatoes - serves 2

1 pound scrubbed mixed potatoes - these are Peruvian blue, Red Thumb, and Fingerlings, purchased from Elizabeth Telling Farm at this past week's market
Good Extra Virgin Olive oil
Crunchy Sea Salt
Freshly Cracked Black Pepper

Preheat oven to 450 degrees, and line a baking sheet with foil or parchment paper.  Steam potatoes - whole, mind you - for 8 minutes.  When they have cooled just enough to touch, cut each potato into fourths (I'm assuming your potatoes are small, as mine where - if not, cut into 1/2" pieces).  Place in a bowl and drizzle with olive oil.  Toss to coat.  Sprinkle over salt and pepper and again, toss to coat.  Spread into one layer on the baking sheet, and roast for about 20-30 minutes, rotating pan after 15 minutes.  Check frequently after 20 minutes, just to be sure they don't burn.  Serve with meat or anything your heart desires.

Sweet Corn Risotto

Because I love you so much, I am taking a break from Harry to write.  This morning my mom called and said "are you busy with Harry Potter?  Is that why you aren't writing?"  Chastised, I got off the phone and got to work.  I have fewer than 300 pages to go, so I'll probably even be back before the day is done.

This dish is, of course, completely inauthentic.  Why?  Because Italians don't eat sweet corn.  I don't have a written source on that subject, but when Husband was in Italy he was informed that sweet corn was "pig food."  This apparently doesn't apply to cornmeal.  I think it's a sad loss, and I'm grateful that I wound up in the Midwest (okay, I'm really in a Great Lake State, whatever), where sweet corn is a birthright. 

Here was the inspiration for this dish: last weekend, at the Food & Ohio Wine Festival at the North Market, I helped serve at a wine tasting.  The chef was Johnny Dornback from Basi Italia, and he made poached chicken; when someone asked what the poaching liquid was, he mentioned there were corn cobs in the stock.  A lightbulb went off above my head: I'll make a double sweet corn risotto!  I'll make it really light in fat to show my readers how easy it is to make risotto without loading it with butter and cream!  That will be my entire premise!  Unfortunately, I roasted a chicken to go on top of the risotto, and when the chicken was out of the oven, I poured some schmaltz over the risotto.  I couldn't help it - it was begging to be done!  And then I added a little pinch of cream.  See how honest I am?  I could have gone on and on about how low fat everything was and then you'll make the recipe and think "why doesn't my risotto look all creamy and pretty like Lisa's did?"  So, you can leave out the schmaltz and the cream, of course, if you have more willpower than I did.  Or don't have those ingredients on hand.  And then you can feel superior to me.  Go ahead, it's okay.

Risotto is really easy to make.  I mean, there's a lot of standing and stirring; it requires constant vigilance, but it's worth the reward.  I think people (read: chefs) try to make people think risotto is hard so people will be impressed and not try to do it on their own.  It's easy.  You should try it.  Keep a few things in mind: the rice will expand, a lot.  Risotto is really about a ratio: it's about 5 to one, so plan that you will need about 5 cups of liquid per cup of rice, of course, it is sometimes more than that, but rarely less.  About 1/4 to 1/3 cup of dry rice will equal a serving - it might not seem like it at first but remember, it expands.  You need 2 pots to make risotto, and a ladle, and a wooden spoon or spoonula (my favorite tool), and you need 2 free burners.  Your risotto pot goes on the front burner, and your simmering stock goes on the back burner.  Traditional risotto is finished off with a "Mantecare," a big hit of butter which is beaten in at the end.  You don't always have to do this to have delicious risotto; the nature of the type of rice used to make risotto creates a creamy, luscious dish.  You must use arborio, carnaroli, or vialone nano (which is pretty difficult to find): the starch content in these short grained rice varieties ensure a creamy texture.

Lately, I've been seeing a lot of people on TV and the like who say one can make risotto without lots of stirring.  I just can't imagine this to be the case, and indeed, I consulted the matriarch of Italian cooking, Marcella Hazan, who states "The rice must be stirred constantly so that it does not stew in the liquid and become mushy." (Marcella's Italian Kitchen, p 153 - you should buy it, it's a great book).  She even goes on to state "The fundamental technique is unalterable." See?  You have to stir.  No choice.  Marcella also recommends using a nice heavy, heat-retaining pot.  I use an All Clad 8 Quart Stainless Stockpot, but a Le Creuset pot would also be perfect for this recipe.  Don't use a light, cheap pot.

Sweet Corn Risotto - serves 4ish, but I like to make it serve 2, with leftovers

Olive Oil
1 medium red onion (or any onion), small dice
2 medium leeks, whites and light green parts, halved lengthwise and the cut into thin half moons,
4 cloves garlic, fine dice or mashed through garlic masher
red pepper flakes
1 cup risotto rice such as arborio
6 ears sweet corn
1/2 cup dry vermouth or white wine, plus 1/2 cup
4-6 cups chicken stock (or vegetable stock, for vegetarian version)
salt and pepper
15 sage leaves, cut into chiffonade
butter (optional) or schmaltz (optional)

On your back burner, heat the stock to a simmer.  Add 1/2 cup vermouth or white wine.  Heat a large Dutch oven over medium heat, add a little olive oil, then add the onions and leeks and sweat them over slightly less-than-medium heat.  Stir in the garlic and sweat for about 3-4 minutes, add the pepper flakes, then add the rice.  Stir the rice until it has begun to pearlize - the grain will turn from all white to translucent with a little white spot in the center.  Deglze the pan with the 1/2 cup of vermouth and stir.  While the wine is reducing, cut the kernels off the ears right into the pan.  After cutting the kernels off, turn the knife over to the dull side and scrape the "milk" off the cob.  Throw the cobs into the stock.  Sprinkle everything generously with salt and pepper.  Add one ladelful (I use about 6 ounces of stock per addition) of stock and stir until the liquid has been absorbed.  Repeat, repeat, and repeat for about 20-25 minutes or so.  The risotto is finished when the grains still have bite but are not chalky inside.  Taste and adjust the seasoning.  Add the sage and stir well.  At this point, you can either add another ladelful of stock and stir it in lightly for a runnier risotto, or simply finish when the rice is as described above for a tighter risotto.  I like mine somewhere in between - I don't like leftover liquid, but I do like the whole mess of risotto to relax into the bowl, not to stay in a mound. 

If desired, turn the heat off and add 1/2 stick of butter, softened and cut into chunks.  Beat the risotto for 2 minutes with your spoon.  Alternatively, you can pour about 1/4 cup of schmaltz over, along with 1/4 cup heavy cream, and beat for 2 minutes.  Yum.  Eat with a spoon while still really hot.  Throw a bit of roasted chicken on top, if desired (isn't it funny how different the risotto looks under lightbulbs, above, versus outside, below):

And now, back to Harry.