Friday, March 05, 2010

Tikka Masala

Oral-gami

Tikka Masala

Sometimes a dish unfolds. It unfolds on your tongue, it unfolds on your plate, it unfolds in your nose. And sometimes the unfolding surprises.

When my sister was between 12 and 14 she became fascinated with origami after receiving an origami craft kit for a present. I've no idea all these years later if she was any good, but she was a talented pianist with dexterous fingers well-suited to a task like folding paper. I would sometimes sneak into her room to look at and gently handle her efforts in paper. I recall the bright colors and complex patterns and if I was certain I had a bit of time when I wouldn't get caught I would occasionally unfold one to see how it worked and then carefully refold it. That a square sheet of paper could become a swan or an angel was marvelous.

There is a similarity — a conjunction — between folding paper and cooking. As cooks we begin with an idea for a dish and then carefully fold in the tastes and flavors. A bit of cinnamon forms a crease, lamb contributes stability, cardamom makes an overlay, and garlic forms a shadow-line. Cooking is multidimensional — like origami.

In folding paper the artists take something with two dimensions, and working within those two dimensions, create three dimensions — even four when the angled paper really evokes in the viewer's mind the rounded form it represents.

Over the course of dinner the masala unfolded, the apparent complexity deconstructed as I tasted the structure.

I made Tikka Masala last night. I used chicken but that's not unlike choosing a yellow matt paper as opposed to lamb, which might be a lavender iridescent paper. I might, in fact would, alter minor details in the masala depending on the core ingredient, but an origami artist would also modify certain folds to achieve the desired effect when making a black swan or a white one.

I ate a bite of masala and thought, "Yeh, ok, nothing to write home about." I ate another couple of bites: "Not bad, actually." A few more bites and, "Oh, yeah, the jalapeno is kicking in and the cardamom is perfect." In other words, over the course of dinner the masala unfolded, the apparent complexity deconstructed as I tasted the structure. By the time I finished the entire dish had been laid out like a simple square sheet of paper, and then carefully refolded into the original image. But now completely understood.

Tikka Masala
Serves 6.


8 boneless, skinless chicken thighs or
2 lb lamb stew meat
Marinade:
2 tbsp cardamom pods
1 1/2 tbsp cumin seeds
1 tbsp coriander seeds
1 tbsp black peppercorns
1 stick cinnamon — smashed
1/2 tsp whole cloves
1 tsp ground tumeric
2 lg garlic cloves; crushed
1 inch fresh ginger — peeled and grated
1/4 tsp cayenne pepper
1 c yogurt
Sauce:
3 tbsp cooking oil (or, ideally, ghee)
2 tbsp cardamom pods
1 1/2 tbsp cumin seeds
1 tbsp coriander seeds
1 stick cinnamon — smashed
1/2 tsp whole cloves
1 tsp ground tumeric
1 onion — peeled and thinly sliced
2 cloves garlic; peeled and thinly sliced
1 inch fresh ginger — peeled and thinly sliced
1 jalapeno pepper; seeded and finely chopped
1 15-oz can petit diced tomatoes
1 cup heavy cream

Marinade:
Cook cardamom pods, cumin seeds, coriander seeds, black peppercorns, cinnamon, and cloves over medium high heat, shaking regularly, until seeds begin to pop. Coarsely grind in a spice grinder (I use a dedicated coffee grinder) or mortar and pestle.

Mix spices with remaining marinade ingredients. Thoroughly combine marinade with meat in a zippered bag and refrigerate overnight.

Meat:
Set oven to broil and line a baking sheet with aluminum foil.

Pat meat between paper towels to remove most, but not all, marinade.

Place meat on baking sheet and cook on the second rack from top for 5 - 7 minutes — until lightly browned. Set aside when done.

Sauce:
Note: I really like leaving the spices whole. This is what prompted my thoughts about a dish unfolding. The flavors of all the spices pervade the dish, but biting into a cardamom pod or whole clove is when that flavor unfolds and the craft becomes apparent.

Heat oil or ghee over medium high heat. Add cardamom, cumin, coriander, cinnamon, and cloves. Cook 5 minutes. (Be sure the fan is running full blast and don't lean over the pan.)

Reduce heat to medium and add onion and tumeric. Cook, stirring, until onions are translucent - about 5 minutes. Add garlic, ginger, and jalapeno and cook one minute longer then add tomatoes. Reduce heat to low, cover, and simmer gently for 30 minutes.

Stir cream into sauce and add meat (if using chicken, cut into bite-sized pieces first). Simmer, uncovered, for 10 minutes and serve over rice.

Note: I stole a trick from Ree Drummond and colored my rice with tumeric and then added peas. Great idea for presentation.

Try tikka masala with...
Asparagus Parmigiano
Slow-roasted Tomatoes
Buttermilk Pie


Technorati: | | | |

Labels: , , ,

Read more...

Monday, February 22, 2010

SG Archives: Lamb Daube

Call Me Sentimental

Lamb Daube

It's lambing season. At least it is in Missouri where, last Sunday, Clare, one of Susan's ewes, gave birth. Call me sentimental, but when I see a cute little lamb like that it immediately brings to mind images of fields turning green, new buds on trees, daffodils, birds calling for mates, and dinner. Somehow piglets don't affect me the same way — I go straight to thoughts of dinner.

For some reason, a lot of Americans don't like lamb — or at least they think they don't. I suspect they've just never had well-prepared lamb. We don't have a tradition of eating it here and so many people have no idea how to fix it. And, too, lamb has a slightly gamey taste and, for palates used to the insipid blandness of most American beef and pork, lamb is like granola when you're used to shredded wheat.

For palates used to the insipid blandness of most American beef and pork, lamb is like granola when you're used to shredded wheat.

This isn't the case in the Mediterranean countries where lamb and even mutton have a long and honored tradition. Spain, Greece, Morocco, and Turkey are all big on lamb, as is France. For instance, the LaRousse Gastronomique lists more than 130 ways of cooking lamb from the mundane lamb chop (Cotelettes d'Agneau) to lamb's head (Tête d'Agneau a l'Écossaise) — and that's not counting mutton.

I know this because I was looking for a traditional French lamb recipe. In addition to checking LaRousse I did the usual Google scan and looked though Julia Child, Patricia Wells, and the handy-dandy, full-color, for-a-limited-time-only Time/Life Book of Lamb that I got for 95 cents at a used book store. I finally settled on making a daube. You can't get much more traditional than stew because stews have been part of most cuisines since pottery was invented. In addition, it's been cold and snowy here — good stew weather.

Daubes are a distinctly French take on stew. In a daube the meat is marinated with vegetables and herbs in wine for some period of time (I have a beef recipe that calls for marinating for 48 hours). I wanted to do a daube with a Provençal accent and found a number of ideas on the Web and in my books. Lemon is the most common citrus used in Mediterranean cooking, but I found one recipe calling for orange peel that sounded interesting and Child suggested capers and anchovies. I decided to skip the capers and but go with anchovy paste.

To accompany the daube I made mashed rutabagas and fixed an apple crisp for dessert. And wine. I needed wine for the marinade and, just to be contrary, I decided on a New Zealand Pinot Noir. Specifically, I bought a bottle of Dyed-in-the-Wool — it just seemed appropriate.

Daube d'Agneau a la Provençal
Serves 6.


2 lb lamb — cut into 3"4" cubes
1 lg onion — peeled and diced
3 carrots — peeled and diced
2 cloves garlic — smashed
1 orange — zested
2 bay leaves
1 tbsp dried Herbes de Province
2 tbsp olive oil
2 tsp salt
1 tsp black pepper
1/2 btl red wine
6 slice bacon
1 can diced tomatoes, 15 oz
1/2 c flour, for dredging
1 c beef stock
1 tbsp anchovy paste

Mix together lamb, onions, carrots, garlic, orange zest, bay, herbs, olive oil, salt, pepper, and wine in a large Dutch oven. Allow to marinate for 3 hours, mixing occasionally.

Heat oven to 325F.

Drain and reserve marinade. Separate meat from vegetables (reserving vegetables) and pat dry. Dredge lamb in flour, shaking off excess.

Lay three strips of bacon on the bottom of a Dutch oven. Sprinkle with half the veggies, add half the tomatoes including juice, add half the lamb. Repeat. Pour in marinade and add enough beef stock to almost, but not quite, cover the mixture. Bring to a simmer on top of the stove and then cover and place in lower third of oven.

Cook for 1 1/2 hours. Remove cover and stir in anchovy paste. Return to oven and cook, uncovered, another 1/2 hour.

The daube was outstanding — seriously good. As expected the anchovy disappeared as an identifiable flavor but brought depth and savor to the dish. (Anchovies can be sly little fishies.) The orange zest was best described as seriously fun. It didn't particularly stand out, but it did quietly and firmly make its presence known and it made me smile every time I noticed it.

The rutabaga, simply seasoned with salt, butter, and a couple of tablespoons of maple syrup, was an excellent accompaniment — a combination of bitter and sweet to supplement the savory stew. The wine? Oh well. It worked fine in the daube but as for drinking it was a bit closer to dye than I would have wished. Drinkable, but only just.

Originally published in February 2006.

Try this daube with...
Mashed Rutabaga with Maple Syrup and Bourbon
Spiced Apples
Potatoes Parmigiano

Labels: , , ,

Read more...

Thursday, December 24, 2009

Rack of Lamb
with Caramelized Onions

A Different Rib Roast

Rack of Lamb



Rack of lamb is the ovine equivalent of a standing rib roast. It's essentially the same exceedingly tender cut of meat. A standard lamb rack has eight ribs and a large rack can serve four people. Typically the ribs themselves are frenched (meaning the end of each rib is scraped clean) and they are beautiful on a plate. So if you have an occasion that deserves a prime rib roast but it's just the two (or three) of you, try a lamb rack instead — this is red meat at it's best.

Recipe here...

Technorati: | | | | |

Labels: , ,

Read more...

Friday, December 18, 2009

Lamb & Barley Stew

Bah, Bah, Black Sheep

Lamb/Barley Stew

A few weeks ago I bought some lamb stew meat from my local meat producer, Tracy Monday. I bought three pounds to make lamb daube for a dinner party I was catering. Tracy now has a retail outlet in a shop he shares with several other local producers. Although the shop is 30 minutes from my house it's a lot more convenient than having to show up at 3:00 PM Friday afternoon in a parking lot to buy meat from him.

Tracy's meat isn't cheap — the stew meat was $7/pound, but it's mighty good and I buy from him whenever I can. I'd called Tracy the night before to make sure he had the meat ask him to save it for me. I bought a duck for an article I was writing at the same time and when I drove out to get my meat Tracy was there and threw in an extra pound of lamb. Although a pound of lamb stew meat doesn't begin to cover the additional cost of buying meat from Tracy or the other local meat supplier, the recognition means a lot.

I have a personal relationship, a genuine connection, with Tracy and other local producers.

No supermarket would ever give me something. I have to pay for the pork fat I sometimes get at the grocer for making sausage and confit — even though the fat would be pure waste if I didn't want it. But I have a personal relationship, a genuine connection, with Tracy and other local producers.

I brought my bonus lamb home and froze it until I figured out what to do with it. Lamb and barley stew seemed like a good idea — lamb is particularly good with barley. I wish I'd had some lamb bones to make stock from, but I didn't, so I used homemade chicken stock. I should give Tracy a call and ask him for some lamb bones to make stock with. He probably wouldn't even charge me for them.

Lamb & Barley Stew
Serves 4.


1 lb lamb stew meat — cut into 1" pieces
2 tbsp olive oil
1 sm onion — peeled and diced
1 cup red wine
2 cups chicken stock
2 sm turnips — cut into eighths
2 carrots — cut into 1" lengths
1/4 cup pearl barley
2 tbsp tomato paste
2 tsp juniper berries — smashed flat and then chopped finely
1 tsp red wine vinegar
Salt and pepper

Pat lamb dry and season liberally with salt and pepper. Heat oil in a soup pot over medium-high heat, and brown lamb. Reserve meat, reduce heat to medium and brown the onions.

Increase heat to high, add wine and reduce by half, deglazing pot. Return meat to pot along with all other ingredients. Bring to a boil them immediately reduce heat to low and cover pot, leaving a 1/2" gap.

Simmer for 1 1/2 hours, taste and adjust seasoning.

Try this stew with...
Spiced Apples
Braised Red Cabbage
Bread Pudding


Technorati: | | | | | |

Labels: , ,

Read more...

Monday, November 16, 2009

SG Archive: Costelettes
Tuscan Lamb Chops

The Girl

Lamb Chops

It was December of 2001 and, despite having protested for years that I'd never live in California, I'd moved to Sacramento three months before. On this particular day, the Thursday evening after Christmas, I was driving around the town of Sonoma in a steady, chilly, drizzling rain looking for my B&B.

One of the nice things about the publishing business (I was a magazine editor at the time) is that it's no problem for a monthly magazine to just take a week off with minimal notice. I mean lock the doors and leave a message on the answering machine and everyone take a long holiday. Provided you still hit the two or three drop-dead dates for getting the current issue out the door this is relatively painless for a small company. So we'd given everyone the week between Christmas and New Years off and I decided to take my first trip to The Wine Country.

Sonoma has a lovely town square — in the daylight, with the sun shining. But on a wet Thursday night in that purgatory between holidays it's not particularly welcoming.

My problem at the moment was I couldn't find the B&B I had reservations for. I had a map I'd printed out from MapPoint but for the first (and so far, only) time MapPoint had led me astray. I tried calling but there was no answer. Finally I spotted a UPS truck and I accosted the driver as he got out to make a delivery. Luckily he knew where the place was and so, about 6:30 I pulled into a gravel driveway next to a rambling house that appeared to be some sort of strange hybrid of Queen Anne and Craftsman bungalow.

I got out, and dashed up the stairs to the front door. Locked. Coming back down I missed a step in the dark and fell, badly bruising my back and hip. I hobbled around back. There was a light over the back door but it, too, was locked. In desperation I limped over to what I'd thought was the garage and found a note on the door addressed to me along with a key to the house and my room. I dumped my bag in the room and sore, wet, and hungry went looking for supper.

Sonoma has a lovely town square — in the daylight, with the sun shining. But on a wet Thursday night in that purgatory between holidays it's not particularly welcoming. More or less by default, I walked into a restaurant named The Girl and the Fig. Surprisingly for a Tuesday night, it was packed. It looked like my day was only going to get worse

There was a large woman in jeans and sweater working as hostess who told me there'd be about a 15 minute wait and asked if I wanted to wait at the bar. Apparently she'd sized up my frame of mind because she escorted me to the bar and told the bartender: "Take care of him." A few minutes later she came back and directed me to an empty bar stool. And I'd just ordered my second bourbon and water when she returned to take me to a table.

The waitress recommended the costelette (Italian marinated lamb chops). They were excellent, the wine recommended by my waitress was a perfect match and her service could not have been better — attentive, competent, and ubobstrusive. When I got the bill, my first drink had been comped. I had been "taken care of."

When I got home I did my best to recreate the recipe.

Costelettes
Serves 4.


8 lamb chops
1 c olive oil
1/2 c fresh lemon juice
2 cloves garlic — crushed
2 sprigs rosemary — bruised by rubbing between palms
2 generous pinches of salt

Combine everything except lamb chops in a one gallon ziplock bag and allow floavors to meld for several hours. Add chops to bag and marinate for about 3 hours.

Grill chops on a charcoal grill to preference — about 4 minutes per side for medium rare.

It was somewhat cloudy for the rest of my visit, but I had a great time touring wineries and playing tourist.

I went back to the restaurant twice more and took a large party of foodies to the sister restaurant, The Girl and the Gaucho. It was always good. And the hostess who recognized someone in need of some TLC? She was The Girl.

Try these Costelettes with...
Green Beans with Anchovies
Potato/Carrot Gratin
Buttermilk Pie


Technorati: | | | | | |

Labels: , ,

Read more...

Tuesday, June 16, 2009

Lamb Steaks with Orange Sauce

The Benefits of Doing Business

Lamb Steak with Orange Sauce

The last time I bought meat from my favorite farmer he tossed a couple of lamb leg steaks into my bag, "Because you're a good customer." This is yet another argument for buying local and direct. However nice the people are at Food City (and they are nice folks, I enjoy shopping there), they aren't permitted to give anything away — however good a customer I might be.

My tomato lady often gives me a tomato or two — particularly if she's trying a new variety. Admitted, she expects me to critique the tomato and let her know what I think, but I'm happy to do that. And a few of the growers I buy from tend to round down and never up. It's good business, at least in my case, because it makes me loyal. Donna, the tomato lady, is always swamped with customers at the farmers' market, but I wait patiently anyway even though I could buy from someone else more quickly.

However nice the people are at Food City, they aren't permitted to give anything away — however good a customer I might be.

Donna hasn't shown up at the market yet, it's still a bit early in the season, but I hope to find her there tomorrow with some early tomatoes, cukes, and baby squash. So far the market has been almost completely live plants (tomatoes, herbs, peppers, and flowers).

At any rate, back to the lamb steaks. I decided to bread and then fry them (in other words, treat them like pork cutlets) and top them with an orange sauce.

Lamb Steaks with Orange Sauce
Serves 4.

4 lamb steaks (about 4 oz each and 1/2" thick, bone removed)
1 egg — beaten
1/2 c all-purpose flour
1 c bread crumbs*
Salt and pepper
3 tbsp vegetable oil
1/2 c dry vermouth
2 oranges — zested and juiced
1 tbsp fresh thyme leaves
1/2 c chicken broth
1 tsp arrowroot (optional)

Season cutlets generously with salt and pepper. Dredge in flour, shaking off excess, dip in egg and then dredge in bread crumbs. Set aside.

Heat oil in a large skillet over medium high heat. When hot, fry cutlets on both sides until browned (about two minutes per side). Set cutlets aside.

Deglaze skillet with vermouth and reduce by half. Add orange juice and zest, thyme, and chicken broth and reduce by half. The sauce should thicken slightly, but if it doesn't, mix the arrowroot with a couple of tablespoons of cold water and whisk slurry into the sauce. Cook another couple of minutes.
Spoon sauce over steaks and serve.
*Whenever I have bread going too stale before I can eat it, I cut it into 1/2" cubes, leave them on the counter overnight, and then freeze them in a big plastic bag. At any time the bag might contain homemade sour-dough, Pepperidge Farm rye, homemade hamburger buns, and whole wheat from the supermarket bakery. These cubes are already the right size for croutons and tossed in the food processor quickly become bread crumbs.

Try this XXXX with...
Asparagus Parmigiano
Fried Green Tomatoes
Lemon Chiffon Pie


Technorati: | | | | |

Labels: , ,

Read more...

Monday, May 11, 2009

Lamb Lemonata

Opah!

Lamb Lemonata

Recently a friend turned me on to a Greek food blog, Kalofagos. "Kalofagos" is a Greek word meaning gourmet and the blog is hosted by a fellow named Peter Minakis who is a Canadian of Greek dissent living in Toronto. Donna mentioned the blog because I was telling her about the Pastitsio I'd made a couple of days before.

I've long been a huge fan of Greek food since enjoying my first taste of it by the harbor of Piraeus. At that time we began by ordering an appetizer of fried calamari and were brought a plate heaped with a mountain of golden rings that were so good we ordered another plate. Unfortunately I was only in Greece for a couple of days and so didn't get a chance to eat a lot. But I've tried to make up for it over the past few years by purchasing a number of Greek cookbooks.

We began by ordering an appetizer of fried calamari and were brought a plate heaped with a mountain of golden rings on it that were so good we ordered another plate.

I logged onto Minakis' blog and quickly spotted a recipe for Lamb Lemonata. It was love at first sight and I had to make it. So I stopped by my favorite butcher's and picked up a lamb shank that turned out to be a mislabeled lamb shoulder. Never mind, braising is an equally good cooking method for either cut. I also don't have access to lemon verbena or lemon thyme so I substituted lemon grass here's the recipe:

Lamb Lemonata
Serves 4.

2 lamb shoulders or shanks
Salt and pepper
2 tbsp. olive oil
2 cups vermouth (or white wine)
1 cup chicken stock
juice of one lemon
1 stalk lemon grass
1 tsp. dried oregano (or 1 tbsp minced fresh oregano)
1 4" stalk fresh rosemary

Heat oven to 300F.

Heat oil in a dutch oven over medium-high heat. Generously season lamb with salt and pepper then brown lamb on all sides. Remove lamb and deglaze pot with 1 cup of vermouth. Reduce liquid to 1/2 cup.

Add all remaining ingredients and return lamb to the pot. Bring just to a boil, then cover and place in the oven. Cook for 90 minutes to 2 hours until lamb is quite tender.

Serve with juices spooned over it.

Try this lamb with...
Couscous with Dried Fruit
Asparagus Parmesan
Applesauce Cookies

Technorati: | | | | | |

Labels: , , ,

Read more...

Friday, May 08, 2009

Pastitsio

Food for Working

Pastitsio

Jeez! "Food for Working" sounds like a white-collar pretension of blue-collar roots, doesn’t it? But I don’t mean it that way. We all have jobs. We all sometimes get up earlier than we wish. We have aspects of our jobs we hate (and, hopefully, aspects we love). We all feel we're worth more than we're paid. We all get tired and irritable. We all come home from our jobs to eat things that, in a more perfect world, we'd avoid but that are quick, easy, and require no thought. Food that satisfies nothing more than our need for enough nutrition to enable us to get up too early tomorrow and do it all over again.

I've eaten my share of such meals, and I would be the last to argue there's something inherently wrong with a TV dinner or stopping by a KFC (I don't know what a KFC is, but it tastes a little bit like chicken) on your way home or even ordering a pizza from Papa John's. I eat all those things, but not often. For me, they're almost treats (and it's definitely a treat when I get a pizza delivered) and I like it that way.

When I come home from work (or, these days, knock off from work at home) I want something packed with flavor and goodness. Something that can make up for a bad day or celebrate a good day equally well.

But when I come home from work (or, these days, knock off from work at home) I want something packed with flavor and goodness. Something that can make up for a bad day or celebrate a good day equally well — and in my years of eating and cooking I've found that nothing serves so well as peasant food.

What is peasant food? It's the native food of a culture. It's what the poor people, the working class, ate. In this country it's what the immigrants ate before they got hooked on Kraft Mac-n-Cheese and Burger King and frozen dinners and forgot how to cook. And I guess, to that degree, the idea of peasant food is pretentious — even condescending. But, again, that's not my intent.

Although I don’t come from a blue-collar background, I did grow up on a farm and have hauled more hay, dug more post-holes, and weeded more corn than I like to remember. I've also made a living refinishing furniture, making pizza, checking stock, playing music, and a few other things. My life as a well-paid white-collar worker was relatively brief — and even then my preference was for lamb daube from Provencal, masallah from India, Cornish pasties from England, and fried chicken from the South. It's not food well-suited to our sedentary life-styles, but it's food that makes you glad you were born with a set of functioning taste buds.

Some of these peasant foods are now regarded as haute cuisine. Fondue? Invented by Swiss herders. Bouillabaisse? Whatever the fishermen in Marseilles couldn’t sell. Cassoulet? Beans used to make a bit of leftover meat go further. Pâte? It's just meatloaf with the added advantage of making liver more palatable.

Then there are the wonderful things like stew, chile, homemade pizza, and barbeque that remain un-apologetically low-brow. And they are foods that take cheap ingredients and make them deeply satisfying. For instance two 12-inch pizzas from Papa John's cost about $25, but I can make two superior pizzas for $8.

Whatever their origins, such foods are simple to make, packed with flavor, and a satisfying end to a long day whether you were pruning grape vines, managing a shop, or debating an ordinance at city hall. They just aren't "fast." But many such foods are better the second or third day anyway — so make them when you have time and regard the leftovers as a bonus. Something to be looked forward to, not avoided. Something to make a really good dinner completely painless, at least half the time. Something for those nights when you get home tired and hungry. Something to replenish your body and your soul.

And if tonight is such a night, Pastitsio, a Greek meat and pasta pie, is a perfect example. It's best with lamb, but beef also works. Pastitsio is rich and savory — a genuine "rib-sticker" as we say in the South — and is at least as good as leftovers as it is the day you make it. Don't let the nutmeg and cinnamon scare you off — you'll never know they're there, but the dish is poorer without them. Enjoy it with a hearty Zinfandel or Malbec.

Pastitsio
Serves 8.

1/2 pound penne pasta
1/2 pound shredded mozarella

Lamb mixture:
1 pound ground lamb (or beef)
2 tablespoons olive oil
1 medium onion — diced
2 large cloves garlic — minced
1 tablespoon minced fresh rosemary (or 1 teaspoon dried)
1 tablespoon minced fresh oregano (or 1 teaspoon dried)
1/4 teaspoon nutmeg
1/4 teaspoon cinnamon
1/4 cup red wine
1 can finely diced tomatoes (15 oz)
4 ounces feta cheese — crumbled

Sauce:
3 tablespoons butter
3 tablespoons flour
2 cups milk
2 egg yolks — lightly beaten
4 ounces kefalotiri (or parmegiano) cheese — grated or shredded
1/2 teaspoon salt
1/4 teaspoon black pepper

Cook penne according to package directions. Drain, rinse with cold water to eliminate sticking, and set aside.

Lamb mixture:
Heat olive oil in a large sauté pan over medium high heat. Brown lamb in two batches, seasoning with salt and pepper. Set lamb aside and pour off excess grease.

Reduce heat to medium and add onion. Cook until translucent, about 5 minutes. Add garlic, rosemary, oregano, cinnamon, and nutmeg. Cook another minute. Add wine and deglaze pan. Reduce wine to about 1 tablespoon. Stir in tomatoes, including liquid, and lamb. Season with additional salt and pepper. Simmer for about 15 minutes. Stir in feta cheese and cook another 5 minutes.

Heat oven to 400F.

Sauce:
Heat milk in the microwave on high for 1 1/2 minutes. Melt butter in a sauce pan over low heat. Whisk in flour and cook, stirring constantly, for four minutes. Slowly pour in hot milk, whisking steadily, and cook until thickened. Slowly whisk in egg yolks. Whisk in kefalotiri (or parmegiano) cheese, cooking until melted and thick. Stir in salt and pepper.

Assemble:
Toss pasta with shredded mozzarella. Layer 3/4 of pasta in the bottom of 9 x 13 casserole dish. Layer meat mixture on top of pasta. Distribute remaining pasta over meat. Pour sauce evenly over pasta.

Place casserole in middle of oven and cook for 25 - 30 minutes until top browns.

Technorati: | | | | | |

Labels: , , , ,

Read more...

Thursday, February 12, 2009

Lamb Chops

Missing Ingredient

Lamb Chops

I was in Fresh Market the other day (our regional version of Whole Foods) and they had some gorgeous lamb chops on sale. It had been a while since I last had a piece of meat as meat instead of an ingredient in something else so I broke down and bought a pair.

With some degree of success, I've been working at reducing the amount of meat I eat, focusing on dishes largely founded on ingredients such as pasta, beans, or grains with just some meat in the mix. Partially this is an effort to cut down on my meat intake in general because, like most Americans, I eat far more meat than I need. And partially because I'm avoiding buying supermarket meat in favor of meat (more expensive meat, albeit better tasting) from local producers. So far I'm not 100 percent successful, but this is more a matter of altering habits and presumptions rather than a binary succeed/fail issue.

It took me a while to figure out what I was expecting but missing — ground sumac.

The truth is, I have been seriously hungering for bone-in rib roast. But that's completely out of the question. Way too expensive. So lamb chops instead. But what to do with them? I've been on a bit of a Greek kick lately so I decided to go down that road. The result was good, but not quite what I had in mind, and it took me a while to figure out what I was expecting but missing - ground sumac.

To the best of my knowledge, sumac is not a typical ingredient in Greek food. And, in fact, my introduction to the ingredient is recent — so, for me, it's not a common element of my repertoire. But sumac is common in many middle-eastern dishes and so there's no reason it shouldn't fit into Greek cuisine as well. So here's what I made, but with the addition of sumac to the mix.

Grilled Lamb Chops a la Grecque
Serves 4.

8 1-inch thick lamb loin chops
1 c olive oil
2 lg lemons — zested and juiced
4 cloves garlic — crushed
2 tbsp minced, chopped oregano
2 tsp ground sumac (look in the Middle-eastern section of your grocery)
2 tsp salt
2 tsp ground black pepper
Yogurt sauce:
2 cup yogurt
2 tbsp fresh lemon juice
4 tbsp minced fresh mint
2 clove garlic — crushed

Yogurt sauce:
Drain yogurt in a sieve lined with cheesecloth for 1 hour, or use Greek yogurt if you can find it (Greek yogurt is quite thick).

Combine all ingredients in a small bowl and refrigerate for an hour or more.

Chops:
Combine all ingredients except tzatziki sauce in a large zippered bag. Shake thoroughly, and marinate on the counter for a couple of hours - shaking and turning over occasionally to keep marinade mixed and distributed.

Heat grill or a grill pan to medium-high. Pat chops dry with a paper towel and grill 3 minutes per side.

Serve topped with yogurt sauce.
Try these chops with:

Baked Baby Artichokes

Patats Bravas

Blueberry Crisp

Technorati: | | | | | |

Labels: , ,

Read more...

Thursday, February 05, 2009

Greek Lamb Loaf

Old Dog, New Trick

Greek Lamb Loaf

A couple of years ago I had dinner with a friend, Susanne, and she invited her sister, Maggie, along. Maggie turned out to be as serious a foodie as Susanne and I are and the three of us enjoyed an excellent meal at Tierra in Atlanta. As foodies are wont to do, we spent a good part of the meal talking about food and cooking.

We got to talking about Greek food and subsequently Maggie sent me a recipe — well, a list of ingredients, anyway — for lamb burgers with a decided Greek accent. I had a chunk of raw lamb in the freezer left over from a leg roast I'd butterflied a few weeks back, so I gave it a try. But rather than do burgers, I made a loaf figuring it would last better as leftovers than burgers would.

BTW, I bought the grinder attachment for my Kitchen Aid a few years back with the intent of getting into sausage making. But I found I also love the control over the final product that grinding my own meat gives me. And it's handy to have when you need to convert a slab of lamb leg into ground lamb.

Greek Lamb Loaf
Serves 4.

1 lb ground lamb — trimmed of most fat
1 lg slice white bread — crusts trimmed
3 tbsp milk
1 tbsp olive oil
3 oz feta, crumbled
1 sm onion, diced
2 garlic cloves — minced
1/4 c pignoli — toasted
1/4 c bread crumbs
1/4 c chopped fresh mint
1/4 c chopped fresh parsley
pepper to taste (the feta provides salt)

Soak bread in milk, then tear into tiny pieces (this is called a panade and adds moisture).

Sautee onion and garlic in olive oil until fragrant and translucent.

Combine all ingredients, shape into a loaf, and bake at 350F until internal temperature is 155F. Allow to rest for 15 minutes before slicing.

I topped it with tzatziki sauce.

Technorati: | | | | | |

Labels: , , ,

Read more...

Thursday, December 11, 2008

Paisano: Lamb Tagine
with Fig and Prunes

Name That Dish

Lamb Tagine

The word "tagine" is one of those cases where a cooking vessel has lent its name to the food prepared in it. For example, there's good etymological evidence that the dish "chowder" is named for the French pot named "chaudree" (cauldron) and a "casserole" is (traditionally) a round or oval earthenware container in which a thick stew is made.

The tagine dish is traditionally earthenware and consists of two parts - a lower round dish with 2 to 3-inch sides and a much-larger tall volcano-shaped lid. The food to be cooked goes in the bottom dish with a bit of liquid which is traditionally set over charcoal. The lid creates a steamy environment for cooking where, over a few hours, the liquid is gradually reduced to create a rich sauce. It's really a brilliant bit of culinary technology.

A tagine (the cooking vessel) is used to create a tagine (the meal). The meals are typically lamb, kid, chicken, or vegetarian made with vegetables or fruit, perhaps olives, maybe preserved lemons and always spices.

Tagine, the vessel and meals, are Moroccan — meaning Arabic — meaning the spices can be surprising to Western palates.

Tagine, the vessel and meals, are Moroccan — meaning Arabic — meaning the spices can be surprising to Western palates. Mostly because Arabs use a lot of spices we've come to associate with sweet dishes: cinnamon, cardamom, nutmeg, ginger… Our Western association isn't unreasonable, these spices do indeed complement sweet flavors, but Arab cuisine often adds sweet tastes to savory dishes and so it's not unusual to find fruit or honey paired with chicken and accented with cinnamon and nutmeg.

I don’t own a tagine, so I can't claim this dish authentic (plus, I made it up and I'm not Arab) but it does capture the spirit of tagines both in flavor and technique. Couscous is a traditional starch with tagines, but potatoes also work well. I'd planned on including dried apricots (mish mish) in this dish, but discovered to my surprise I didn't have any on-hand.

Tagine

Lamb Tagine with Fig and Prunes

Serves 4.

2 two-pound bone-in lamb shoulders
Salt and coarsely ground black pepper
3 tbsp olive oil
2 medium onions -- diced
4 large garlic cloves -- minced
2 tsp ground cumin
2 tsp paprika
1 tsp ground tumeric
1 tsp ground cinnamon
1/2 tsp ground cardamom
1/2 tsp ground ginger
1 1/2 - 2 c chicken or lamb broth
4 tbsp tomato paste
2 c dried figs — stems trimmed off
2 c prunes
2 c dried apricots
2 lemons — zested and juiced

Heat oven to 275F.

Generously season shoulders with salt and pepper. Brown on all sides, one at a time, in a dutch oven over medium-high heat - adding additional oil if needed. Set aside.

Reduce heat to medium and add onions. Cook, stirring frequently, until translucent. Stir in minced garlic and all spices and cook one minute more. Add 1/2" of broth and deglaze pot.

Return lamb to pot and add remaining broth (it should come three-quarters of the way up the meat), tomato paste, fruit, and lemon zest.

Increase heat to high and bring just to a boil. Cover and place in oven. Cook 1 hour then turn meat over. Replace lid but leave some space so steam can escape. Cook 1 hour longer and turn meat over again. Note: At this point you may need to add a bit more liquid if it is less than half-way up the meat. Cook 1 hour longer, partially covered. Add lemon juice and serve.

Technorati: | | | | | |

Labels: , , ,

Read more...

Tuesday, November 25, 2008

Paisano: Schawarma

Strange Connections

Schawarma

In 1970 I spent Thanksgiving in Beirut, Lebanon. It ended up being a tragic visit.

At the time I was living in Egypt and attending the American University in Cairo and some of my fellow students and I decided to enjoy the week-long school break visiting what was then known as "the Paris of the Middle-East." Beirut was, indeed, a cosmopolitan city and after several months in the decidedly non-cosmopolitan Cairo we had a wonderful time visiting clubs, restaurants, and shopping (at any rate, the women enjoyed shopping and the guys were young enough to still enjoy following good-looking women around).

I returned with a love for Beirut's then-most-popular street food, the schawarma that has haunted me ever since.

We had been there for about three days when one night one the girls had an asthma attack and died. She had no history of asthma and the hospital she was rushed too was apparently very good - of European caliber - but by the time she arrived at hospital it was too late. We cut short our trip and returned to Cairo the next day under a shround of sadness.

Nevertheless, I returned with some good memories as well and a love for Beirut's then-most-popular street food, the schawarma that has also haunted me ever since.

The schawarma is a Middle-Eastern version of the Greek gyro made with chicken, turkey, or lamb. In either sandwich the meat is meltingly tender, partially because of the marinade and partially because it's pre-sliced and then packed back together before roasting on a vertical spit in front of a layered fire. But my efforts to duplicate this have failed in the past and I finally figured out why, it was because I was cooking the meat too quickly. So I slowed it down by giving the meat an hour to cook in a low oven and achieved as close to perfect as you can get without a vertical rotisserie.

Schawarma
Serves 4.

Marinade:
1 cup plain yogurt
2 tablespoons lemon juice
2 tablespoons distilled white vinegar
2 tablespoons olive oil
2 cloves garlic - crushed
1 teaspoon ground sumac
1/2 teaspoon ground cinnamon
1/2 teaspoon ground nutmeg
1/2 teaspoon salt
1/2 teaspoon ground black pepper
Sandwich:
2 lamb leg steaks (~ 2 pounds)
2 tablespoon olive oil
4 loaves flat bread or pita
thinly-sliced tomato
lettuce
Sauce:
1 cup plain yogurt
2 tablespoons Tahini
1 clove crushed garlic
1 tablespoon lemon juice
1/2 teaspoon ground sumac
1/2 teaspoon salt
1/2 teaspoon ground black pepper

Thoroughly mix all marinade ingredients in a bowl. Pour into a large zippered bag and add lamb steaks. Toss to coat thoroughly and refrigerate for 8 - 24 hours, Tossing every now and then to redistribute marinade.

Heat oven to 225F.

Remove steaks from bag, discarding marinade, and wipe dry (more or less) with paper towels. Heat 2 tablespoons olive oil in a large, lidded sauté pan over medium-high heat. Brown steaks on both sides in pan (about 3 minutes per side).

Pour off excess oil, cover sauté pan, and cook in the oven for 1 hour. In the meantime, combine sauce ingredients in a small bowl.

Remove from pan and slice steaks thinly across the grain. Spoon sauce down the center of a loaf of flat bread or pita. Add tomato and a leaf or two of lettuce. Add lamb, roll up, and enjoy.
Oh, and save those juices in the sauté pan and sop bread in them for an amazing treat.

Technorati: | | | | | |

Labels: , , ,

Read more...

Thursday, October 16, 2008

Paisano: Lamb Steak
with Gremolata

Keep it Simple

Lamb Steak

Simplicity. When I was a younger cook I sought out the most complicated, convoluted, and difficult recipes to explore. A recipe with dozens of steps was a challenge eagerly sought. An opportunity to expand my skills and knowledge. An opportunity to, let's face it, conquer a recipe. I reveled in my successes while my failures were only goads to keep trying. No, it's not in the same class as climbing Mount Everest, but the mind-set was the same.

I learned to make croissants almost worthy of a French bakery. Souffles of any sort (an early challenge) were something I could create while sleeping. Sauces of all sorts became mere gravy. And then, my interest began to lag.

Gremolata is a simple combination of parsley, garlic, lemon zest, olive oil, and salt and pepper traditionally served on Osso Bucco.


It lagged still further when I started cooking and writing about cooking for a living. I knew I would face burn-out and sure enough, I've been dealing with a certain kitchen lethargy for the past year. In the effort to regularly produce new dishes for my literary efforts and endlessly repeat favorites for my personal chef clients the whole cooking thing lost its real focus and I found myself ordering out for pizza, or making a quick run to the nearest BBQ joint when I needed to feed myself.

But a few of weeks ago, after a week in the hospital consuming hospital food and combating an infection that one doctor reacted to with, "Holey Molely!" I came home to recuperate and spent three days eating TV dinners (that my parents were kind enough to buy me) while I gained strength to do a grocery run. Still on the weak side, I went with easy dishes: baked penne with tuna, broiled trout, even chicken soup.

A couple of days ago I thawed out a lamb leg steak. I brushed it with olive oil and seasoned it with salt and pepper. Then I grilled it in a grill pan on the stove. In the meantime I made some gremolata.

Gremolata is a simple combination of parsley, garlic, lemon zest, olive oil, and salt and pepper traditionally served on Osso Bucco. It's particularly good on lamb, but also complements steak and chicken. Careful, though, the next morning you'll still be tasting it.

Gremolata
Makes enough for 2 servings.

Zest of 1 lg. lemon
2 cloves garlic - crushed
3 tbsp minced parsley
1 tsp olive oil
Salt and pepper

Combine all ingredients in a small bowl and allow flavors to meld for about an hour.
This article originally appeared on Gather.

Technorati: | | | | | |

Labels: , ,

Read more...

Thursday, July 03, 2008

Lamb Burgers

Stuffed to Perfection

Lamb Burger

This is grilling season and, so, I taught a class on hamburgers the other night. The class was roughly based on this article I wrote for NPR's Kitchen Window last year. The topic may not sound worthy of a class, but as in all cooking there are issues of combining and maximizing flavors, food safety, techniques, and other bits and pieces that apply not just to burgers but to cooking in general. It was a good class and enjoyed by all.

It almost goes without saying that when I teach a class I enjoy the compliments I receive on both my cooking and on my overall knowledge of cooking. When someone asked about eating rare hamburgers I was able to explain the issues of level of heat, duration of heat, and the heat-resistance of the most common biological contaminants. Such explanations engender confidence in the students — at least that's what the forms they fill out at the end of each class say.

Serve these in pita rounds, they're really juicy and you won't want to lose a drop.

Among the burgers I offered was a lamb burger stuffed with blue cheese and mint. The recipe that produced this result was an adaptation of a stuffed roast leg of lamb recipe that I sometimes fix on special occasions. The combination of blue cheese and fresh mint with lamb is a major winner. And if you like the burgers, try the roast this Easter for a more elegant take.

Stuffed Lamb Burgers
Serves 4.

1 1/2 pounds ground lamb
4 ounces blue cheese (I recommend Point Reyes if you can find it) — at room temperature
3 tablespoons finely chopped fresh mint
2 teaspoons finely chopped fresh rosemary
3/4 teaspoon ground pepper
3/4 teaspoon salt

Divide the cheese into 4 pieces and form each into a 2-inch round.

Thoroughly combine remaining ingredients in a bowl. Divide the lamb into 4 portions and flatten into patties about 5 inches in diameter. Place a piece of cheese in the center and fold the edges of the patty up over the cheese, pressing to seal. You should end up with a patty that's about 4 inches in diameter and 3/4 of an inch high. Place patties on a baking sheet or plate, cover with plastic wrap, and refrigerate for 30 minutes to an hour to allow burgers to set up.

Grill over medium heat for 5 - 6 minutes per side.

Serve these in pita rounds, they're really juicy and you won't want to lose a drop. And if you're curious about the other recipes check out the Kitchen Window article.

Technorati: | | | | | |

Labels: , ,

Read more...

Saturday, June 28, 2008

Kufta

Biblically Incorrect

Kufta

I haven't been cooking a lot lately, at least nothing interesting. In the past month and a half I've taught four classes, done three parties, and worked on a bunch of stuff for Cooking for Two and I just have haven't felt like cooking for me.

But I got an urge for something middle-eastern the other day and did some searching. I finally decided to make kufta. It turns out kufta is roughly the same thing as kibbeh, but by searching on that name I found more variations and so more ideas. One idea I particularly liked and that appears to be Armenian in origin is layered with potatoes and tomatoes. However, the first version of this variation amused me to no end. It was a on site named Cooking with the Bible and the recipe was listed under King David's Nuptials.

It's strange to imagine King David eating a BLT with fries, even if the B is made with goat.

What amused me was the inclusion of tomatoes and potatoes, both foods that evolved in the New World and certainly wouldn't have been available during King David's time. To be fair, the site owners admit to including some modern foods in the recipes (and specifically mention tomatoes as an example). But still, it's strange to imagine David eating a BLT with fries, even if the B is made with goat.

Kuftah
Serves 6

2 lb ground lamb
1 slice bread, crust removed
1/2 c milk
1 md onion
4 garlic cloves
1 c minced parsley
1 1/2 tsp salt
1/4 tsp mace
1 tsp pepper
2 tsp cumin
1/2 tsp allspice
1/2 tsp black pepper
2 tsp sumac
2 3-inch diameter potatoes
2 3-inch diameter tomatoes

Turn on broiler. Soak bread in milk until all milk is absorbed, then mash into paste

Process parsley in a food processor. Dump in a large bowl with ground lamb and set aside. Process onion and garlic until very finely chopped. Add to bowl along with bread mixture. Add spices and mix gently until ingredients are well-combined.

Put mixture in a casserole dish and place under broiler until browned.

Remove from oven and reduce heat to 375F. Add a layer of potatoes to meat and cover with a layer of tomatoes. Cover casserole with aluminum foil and cook in middle of oven for 40 minutes.
Note: I discovered sumac a few weeks ago in this recipe.

Technorati: | | | | | |

Labels: , , ,

Read more...

Thursday, April 24, 2008

Paisano: Rack of Lamb
with Caramelized Onions

Bi-Polar Weather

Rack of Lamb

Spring arrived here in Knoxville this past weekend. I was out running errands two days ago (Before Spring) and it was rainy and chilly. The lawns were still rather brown and although the daffodils, hydrangeas, and Bradford pear trees were blooming and a few trees had a green haze, it was clear spring hadn't quite sprung. Today when I went out the temperature was 73 and it was bright and sunny. The tulips were in full bloom, lawns were dark green, the dogwoods and redbud are almost in full bloom, and the trees with the green haze were almost covered with leaves. It's amazing how much difference a weekend makes.

I love this time of year, it completely makes up for the ugliness of a Tennessee winter, just as fall makes up for the heat and humidity of a Tennessee summer.

I love this time of year, it completely makes up for the ugliness of a Tennessee winter.

When I lived in Oregon there were two seasons, raining and not raining. When I lived in New Hampshire there were four seasons, but instead of spring they had mud (fall was nice, though). Central Califonia had dry-and-too-hot and somewhat-rainy for its two seasons. So although Tennessee has its drawbacks, the four distinct seasons are an advantage (even though winter is now much more like Oregon's rainy season than a proper winter).

While I was at the grocery (Before Spring) I found a half rack of lamb at a good price and, being the lamb lover I am, bought it. Today I found fresh asparagus from Georgia (meaning it was much fresher than the stuff from California) so I bought a pound of it and tonight I had a spring feast of roast lamb, steamed asparagus, and a green salad with a sherry vinaigrette.

Rack of Lamb with Caramelized Onions
Serves 4.

1 rack of lamb
1 lg. clove garlic — crushed
Salt and pepper to taste
1 - 2 tsp.ground rosemary
2 Tbsp. unsalted butter
2 lg. yellow onions
1/4 cup red wine (I used Zinfindel)
2 tsp. minced fresh rosemary
2 Tbsp. olive oil
1/2 tsp. sugar
1/2 tsp. salt

Remove lamb from refrigerator and rub with crushed garlic. Season generously with salt, pepper, and rosemary. Allow to warm on the counter for at least an hour.

In the meantime, heat butter in a sauté pan over low heat. Cut onions in half, peel, and cut into thin half-round slices. Add onions to sauté pan, sprinkle with salt and sugar and toss to coat. Cover pan and cook gently until a rich mahogany brown, stirring as needed to prevent burning.

Heat oven to 350F.

Add wine and rosemary to onions and increase heat to medium-high. Cook until the wine has almost completely evaporated. Set aside and keep warm or reheat in a microwave just before using.

Heat olive oil in a heavy oven-proof skillet over medium-high heat. Brown rack on all sides except the bone side. Turn bone-side down in skillet and place in center of oven. Cook until an instant-read thermometer reads 130 in center of rack. Remove from oven and tent with foil for 15 minutes. Slice into individual ribs and serve topped with caramelized onions.

Technorati: | | | | | |

Labels: , , ,

Read more...

Friday, December 28, 2007

Lamb Sausage

A Lamb for all Seasons

Lamb Sausage

Last summer I wrote about Locust Grove Farm and their raw sheep's milk cheeses. That visit was the beginning of a longer association when the cheesemaker, Tim Clark, asked me to make some lamb sausage for him.

I did a lot of research looking for a recipe, but didn't find what I had in mind. Most of the recipes were Middle-Eastern/Arabic and I found a handful of Scots and Irish recipes. But what I was thinking about was something Mediteraean involving garlic and herbs. So I set out to create my own recipe.

The sausage definitely evokes the taste of Spain, Provence, Italy, and Greece.

I made the first batch from some lamb Clark happened to have in his freezer. I ended up with two pounds of sausage that came close to what I wanted, but was still a tad off. I took notes and planned my next effort. Just before Thanksgiving Tim gave me another batch of lamb and I finally got around to making batch two the week before Christmas. It was much better, and this time I packed it into sausage casings. It definitely evokes the taste of Spain, Provence, Italy, and Greece but without being recognizably any single one of those cuisines.

Clark and his partner each got a third of the batch, and I kept the last third. I used some of the sausage to make cassoulet for Christmas dinner and I've got two links left that I'm thinking would be good in a pot of potato chowder.

Lamb Sausage
Makes 3 pounds.

2.5 lb lamb
.5 lb pork fat
4 tbsp minced fresh rosemary
2 tsp cracked black pepper
1 tbsp dried thyme
25 grams fresh garlic — minced
10 grams juniper berries — cracked and chopped
1 tsp Spanish hot paprika
2 tsp kosher salt
1 c red wine — reduced to 1/2 c

Cut lamb and pork fat into 1" chunks. Toss with all remaining ingredients except wine and refrigerate for 12 hours. Spread on a tray and freeze for 1 hour until meat is partially, but not completely, frozen. Chill meat grinder and bowl for 1 hour in fridge.

Grind using a 1/8th inch die. Add reduced wine, and stir to mix. Stuff into medium pork casings.
Sausage is really easy to make, especially if you have a Kitchen Aid stand mixer. Get the grinding and stuffing attachments.

Technorati: | | | | | | |

Labels: , ,

Read more...

Thursday, December 20, 2007

Scotch Broth

Sweet Torture

Scotch Broth

Water-boarding is nothing. If you really want to torture someone put them through my past three days and not let them eat anything.

Yesterday I had a big stock pot sitting on a back burner filled with roasted lamb bones, onions, carrots, and celery. I gently simmered the mixture for about 4 hours, then removed the solids, strained it, and returned it to the heat to reduce, ending up with about two and half quarts of savory essence of lamb.

The stock got its start the day before yesterday when I cut up a bunch of lamb my friend Tim Clark of Locust Grove Farm gave me to make sausage with. It's a great deal, Tim provides the lamb, I provide the culinary expertise, and we share the results.

The house was filled with the sparkling brown odor of roasting meat

Anyway, the day before yesterday the house was filled with the sparkling brown odor of roasting meat. And, before that as I worked on carving flesh from the odd parts Tim had given me, the smell of fresh lamb meat — a uniquely mineral scent. Once trimmed, I cut the meat up and seasoned it for the sausage (recipe to come in a day or two).

Yesterday, though, smelled of lamb stock… and duck confit.

As the bones simmered on the stove top, I made a second batch of duck confit in the oven. I haven't tasted it yet (I'm afraid if I do I'll end up eating the whole leg as I did the first one, and I have other plans for my five remaining legs), but I'm completely confident it will be excellent. Because the flavors from the cure were mild (and the meat wasn't excessively salty) I again gave it 36 or so hours to cure before cooking the confit. Duck poaching in it's own fat smells like heaven. Add simmering lamb stock to that…

Today, the stock became Scotch Broth and in addition to lamb I've been exposed to the smells of root vegetables like onions, carrots, and parsnips simmering. I have been eating, albeit not what I've been cooking (until today). But imagine how horrible these past few days would have been if I had had nothing to eat?

Imagine dragging this scenario out over a couple of weeks while offering the most flavorless (albeit nutritive) food you can imagine — tofu comes to mind. Perhaps because my "cause" is food I over-estimate the suasion of wonderful smells with no relief. But isn't the idea of promising a terrorist a good meal as an inducement to tell his secrets an appealing idea?
Scotch Broth

Broth:
5 lbs lamb bones
2 onions — quartered
2 carrots — cut into fourths
2 celery stalks — cut into fourths
1 small bunch parsley
1 tbsp pepper corns
water
Soup:
1 1/2 lb lamb
1 1/2 onion — 1/2" dice
2 8" carrots — 1/2" dice
2 8" parsnips — 1/2" dice
1 3" turnip — 1/2" dice
1 tbsp red wine vinegar
1 c red wine
salt and pepper

Broth:
Roast lamb bones on a baking sheet at 350F until dark brown — 1 to 1 1/2 hours.

Place bones and other stock ingredients (except pepper corns) in a stock pot and add enough water to equal 10 quarts. (If you don't have a pot this big, you need one.)

Bring almost to boil and reduce temperature. Continue reducing temperature until you have a slow simmer. Skim foam from to of mix as is appears. When foam quits appearing, add peppercorns.

Cook for 4 hours, remove solids with a skimmer, slotted spoon, or tongs and discard. Strain remaining liquid through a sieve into a 6 quart pot. Return to a medium-low burner and reduce to 2.5 quarts.

Cool overnight in the fridge then remove solid fat.

Soup:
Cut lamb into 1/2" chunks.

Add lamb and all other soup ingredients to broth. Again, bring almost to a boil and reduce temperature steadily to maintain a simmer. Cook for 1 1/2 hours. Taste and adjust seasonings. Serve.
Stay tuned for the other results of this week's culinary tribute to de Sade.

Technorati: | | | | | |

Labels: ,

Read more...

Wednesday, October 24, 2007

Teaser

Teaser

Pasta with Lamb Sausage

This is farfalle and rotelli pasta with homemade lamb sausage and local sheeps milk cheese. No recipe worth mentioning, except the sausage.

But that recipe isn't quite perfect yet. Almost, but not quite. It needs more wine, a touch of heat, a soupcon more garlic, and the mustard seed is worthless.

When it is perfect I'll share it. In the meantime, with pasta olives, and sauteed onion and bell pepper it's pretty damned good. In fact, it's pretty damned good just fried in skillet.

Technorati: | | | | | |

Labels: , , ,

Read more...

Wednesday, October 10, 2007

National Meatloaf Day: Greek Lamb Meatloaf

Let Your Meat Loaf

Lamb Meatloaf

I think I last heard someone say, "Don't let your meat loaf," about 150 years ago, but I may be exaggerating. It could have been longer. Nevertheless, when I was sophomoric it was usually good for a chuckle and, sophomores being sophomores (not tremendously creative) it's probably still good for at least a pained expression from the more sophisticated sophomores (is that an oxymoron?) and a guffaw from the others.

Serious Eats has declared October 18 National Meatloaf Day. And, although I've largely quit participating in such meme-ish events and know well that when Louis Carrol wrote, "And the mome raths outgrabe," he actually meant, "and the meme routes sour grapes," I was tempted to participate in this online event because I love meatloaf, and yet, unlike so many traditional American dishes, this one I feel — for some reason — more than willing to play with.

I think about recipes to put myself to sleep. Don't you?

Some sort of variation seemed called for. Perhaps because I know that meatloaf is only a coarse pâte/terrine, or perhaps because pâte is essentially a peasant dish — whatever the elite chefs have done with it. At any rate, I laid in bed last night thinking about ways to contribute to the meatloaf mome, er, meme. (Yes, I think about recipes to put myself to sleep. Don't you?)

But, I've been focused on lamb of late. I'm trying to develop a lamb sausage and so it seemed like a good time to revisit an idea for lamb loaf given to me by a friend's sister.

The mint and feta give it a Greek flavor, and the tzatziki sauce carries that through nicely. But if I'd really been thinking, I would have found a bottle of retsina to go along with it — and tossed a glug or two into the mix. But I wasn't thinking, I was drifting off to sleep.

Greek Lamb Loaf
Serves 4.
Based on an idea by Maggie Roberts.

1 lb ground lamb
1 tbsp olive oil
3 oz feta, crumbled
1 sm onion, diced (about 1/2 cup)
2 garlic cloves — minced
1/4 c pignoli — toasted
1/4 c bread crumbs
1/4 c chopped fresh mint
2 tbsp minced fresh rosemary
1 egg, lightly beaten
2 tbsp tomato paste
2 tsp Worcestershire sauce
1/2 tsp coarsley ground black pepper (the feta provides salt)

Sautee onion and garlic in olive oil until fragrant and translucent.

Combine all ingredients, shape into a loaf, and bake at 350F until internal temperature is 155F. Allow to rest for 30 minutes before slicing.

Drizzle with tzatziki sauce.

Technorati: | | | | | | |

Labels: , ,

Read more...

Wednesday, April 25, 2007

Paisano: Lamb Cannellini

Paisano: Lamb Cannellini

Beans and Lamb

The Paisano sat across from me smirking into his wine. We'd gotten into a political argument over dinner and he was quite sure he had "won" the discussion. But the fact is Paisano has no more familiarity with the rules of logic than he does of playing a violin (and I've heard him attempt that). But if he proves a point to his own satisfaction, then it is, "Phhit! Proven!" Stephen Colbert is more capable of rational thought than the old man.

Phitt himself! He needs to trim his beard or shave, one. He looks like a homeless monkey. Yes, I know, an ad hominen attack, but he spent the evening attacking me and refusing to examine the facts of the issue. He says I'm effete, only he thinks "effete" means the same thing as "feminine" but without brains. He spends far too much time hanging around rich people and listening to their insular take on reality.

The discussion began with a remark I made about health care, and Paisano's response was, "Don't get sick." I averred and pointed out that getting sick isn't always a matter of choice, I offered being involved as a passenger in an automobile accident as an example.

His response was, "You just use what you have." I said, "But you have to have something." And, because we were in the kitchen and he had just complained I had nothing to eat, I thought I had won the point. Nope.

Click to enlarge.

He glared at me. Opening the refrigerator again, he pulled out a plastic tub with some leftover kale. Rummaging further, he sighed. I smiled, "What's the problem?" I asked. He ignored me and opened the freezer, quickly discovering a lamb leg bone with some meat on it (a leftover from a cooking class). He pulled out a plastic tub labeled, "Duck Stock." He said, "Beans. You got beans?" I had canned beans, cannellini. He said, "My friend, you're gonna eat."

He thawed the lamb in hot water (unimpressed when I told him that wasn't safe) and the duck stock in a pot on the stove. He pulled down my chicken brick (a clay cooker), something I hadn't used in years, scrubbed it out, and soaked it with water. Complaining only that I didn’t have any wine in the house, he actually reached into his own pocket for money and sent me out to buy a bottle of "something red and good," saying, "You have my money for wine, use what you have. And I need cigarettes, too." Of course, he didn't give me enough money for both.

The meal was good, and beautiful to look at reflecting the Italian flag with its colors of red, white, and green. But when I pointed out that he wouldn't be able to make as good a meal again tomorrow night, and that the fact he could make it all reflected my efforts to anticipate the future, he shrugged and said, "Tomorrow we will worry about tomorrow." In his pea-brain he had won the argument. Stupid old man.

Lamb Cannelllini

1 lb lamb -- cut into 3/4" pieces
2 tbsp olive oil
1 md onion -- diced
3 cloves garlic -- minced
2 cans cannellini, 20 oz
1 can diced tomatoes, 15 oz
1 tbsp Herbes de Provence
salt and pepper
2 tbsp tomato paste
1 tbsp anchovy paste
1/2 lb kale -- torn and blanched
1/2 tsp ground rosemary
2 c duck stock (chicken stock may be substituted)
2 lemons -- juiced

Heat oven to 300F.

Season lamb generously with salt and pepper. Heat oil in a large skillet over medium high heat until the oil sheets. Heat another couple of minutes then add lamb and brown on all sides, remove to a large bowl. Allow pan to cool for a couple of minutes off the heat and reduce heat to medium. Add onions and brown them, scraping up the fond. Add garlic and cook until fragrant -- about 1 minute longer. Add onions to bowl with lamb.

Add all remaining except stock. and mix thoroughly. Pour mixture into a clay cooker or Dutch oven and add enough stock to fill to the level of the other ingredients. Stir again. Cover and cook in oven for 2 1/2 hours.
Ah well. He's a silly old fart, but what can you do?

Technorati: | | | | | | |

Labels: , , , , , ,

Read more...

Friday, April 20, 2007

Paisano: Leg of Lamb

Paisano: Leg of Lamb

Roast Lamb

My good frend Kevin asked me for something to write. To write something? He is very busy right now making a menu for a birthday party. I asked him what he wanted me to write but he said, "I am very busy right now. Write whatever you wish to." I am many many things, but I am not a writer. But Kevin, he said "Write spmething, they will like you and whatever you write." So I hope you forgive me, but for my frend I will write.

But what about? And his birthday party he is planning for a customer gave me an idea. So I will write about a birthday party I made for Nataly. Nataly was very beautiful, not so rich, and she loved to eat. She could eat more than me! And still she was like a young willow tree so slim and wavy and she danced just by being alive like a willow does. She had eyes like a lamb and I told her many times, I will put you on my spit and roast you and eat you all up and Nataly laughed and poured more wine.

So it was her birthday and she was 23 and I went to my frend Michel and got a small leg from a lamb (because, like I said, she had the eyes like a lamb), and I cut the bone out of it.

Do you know it is very hard cutting out the bone when a beautiful woman has her arms around your waist and is kissing you neck and ears. So I made her make a gremolata. Do you know this? Peel a lemon and chop the peel up very very fine (this is I think called zest or gest) and smash some garlic. Two, perhaps three cloves. Then chop up some parsley (the flat kind, not that nasty curly stuff), about a small handful, and mix it all to a paste with some olive oil and salt and pepper. These are the smells of love, and when you love someone they should smell this.

With the gremolata, I spread the inside of the lamb leg so it was all in the niches and pockets. Then I took some string and tied it all up clean. I made a package. Then I took a big black pan and put some olive oil in it (Kevin says I should always say olive oil so people will know that is what I mean but why would you cook with some other oil? If I tell you to bath to I have to tell you the water must be clean?)

I turned on the oven, not hot, below the middle heat, and I put salt and pepper on the leg then I cooked the outside in the black pan in the oil on the burner with hot heat. When the lamb was nice and brown, I put the pan in the oven with the fat on top.

Then I had to take care of Nataly because she bent over the pan to smell it and some oil popped on her chest and I had to make it well.

When Nataly was better. I cut up and cooked some rapini very quick in boiling water. Then poured it into a calendar. I put more water in the pot and put some baby potatoes in it. These I cooked for perhaps 10 minutes.

Nataly had poured more wine and was being very loving because her chest was feeling better, but you can cook or you can make love. So when the potatoes were tender I gave her a fork to mash the potatoes a little bit in a bowl and then put in some chopped up chives and thyme and some greated Parmigiano and some olive oil and salt and pepper and mixed it all up.

The rapini I sautéed in olive oil with garlic, pancetta, and two little anchovy filets that I chopped very small.


When the lamb was ready I cut it and Nataly poured more wine.

The meal was simple and beautiful. It made Nataly happy which was good because Nataly made me happy. I hope my frend Kevin is happy. He is a nice, but a little bit correct.

(Paisano, you did a fine job and I didn't correct a thing. Thanks a bunch. And you'll have to tell me more about Natalie some day, she's sounds like quite a girl. -- Kevin)

Technorati: | | | |

Labels: , , , ,

Read more...

Tuesday, February 06, 2007

Pastitsio

Food for Working

Pastitsio

Jeez! "Food for Working" sounds like a white-collar pretension of blue-collar roots, doesn’t it? But I don’t mean it that way. We all have jobs. We all sometimes get up earlier than we wish. We have aspects of our jobs we hate (and, hopefully, aspects we love). We all feel we're worth more than we're paid. We all get tired and irritable. We all come home from our jobs to eat things that, in a more perfect world, we'd avoid but that are quick, easy, and require no thought. Food that satisfies nothing more than our need for enough nutrition to enable us to get up too early tomorrow and do it all over again.

I've eaten my share of such meals, and I would be the last to argue there's something inherently wrong with a TV dinner or stopping by a KFC (I don't know what a KFC is, but it tastes a little bit like chicken) on your way home or even ordering a pizza from Pap John's. I eat all those things, but not often. For me, they're almost treats (and it's definitely a treat when I get a pizza delivered) and I like it that way.

If we're not willing to settle for junk living, we certainly shouldn't settle for junk food. ~ Sally Edwards

But when I come home from work (or, these days, knock off from work at home) I want something packed with flavor and goodness. Something that can make up for a bad day or celebrate a good day equally well — and in my years of eating and cooking I've found that nothing serves so well as peasant food.

What is peasant food? It's the native food of a culture. It's what the poor people, the working class, ate. In this country it's what the immigrants ate before they got hooked on Kraft Mac-n-Cheese and Burger King and frozen dinners and forgot how to cook. And I guess, to that degree, the idea of peasant food is pretentious — even condescending. But, again, that's not my intent.

Although I don’t come from a blue-collar background, I did grow up on a farm and have hauled more hay, dug more post-holes, and weeded more corn than I like to remember. I've also made a living refinishing furniture, making pizza, checking stock, playing music, and a few other things. My life as a well-paid white-collar worker was relatively brief — and even then my preference was for lamb daube from Provencal, masallah from India, Cornish pasties from England, and fried chicken from the South. It's not food well-suited to our sedentary life-styles, but it's food that makes you glad you were born with a set of functioning taste buds.

Some of these peasant foods are now regarded as haute cuisine. Fondue? Invented by Swiss herders. Bouillabaisse? Whatever the fishermen in Marseilles couldn’t sell. Cassoulet? Beans used to make a bit of leftover meat go further. Pâte? It's just meatloaf with the added advantage of making liver more palatable.

Then there are the wonderful things like stew, chile, homemade pizza, and barbeque that remain un-apologetically low-brow. And they are foods that take cheap ingredients and make them deeply satisfying. For instance two 12-inch pizzas from Papa John's cost about $25, but I can make two superior pizzas for $8.

Whatever their origins, such foods are simple to make, packed with flavor, and a satisfying end to a long day whether you were pruning grape vines, managing a shop, or debating an ordinance at city hall. They just aren't "fast." But many such foods are better the second or third day anyway — so make them when you have time and regard the leftovers as a bonus. Something to be looked forward to, not avoided. Something to make a really good dinner completely painless, at least half the time. Something for those nights when you get home tired and hungry. Something to replenish your body and your soul.

And if tonight is such a night, Pastitsio, a Greek meat and pasta pie, is a perfect example. It's best with lamb, but beef also works. Pastitsio is rich and savory — a genuine "rib-sticker" as we say in the South — and is at least as good as leftovers as it is the day you make it. Don't let the nutmeg and cinnamon scare you off — you'll never know they're there, but the dish is poorer without them. Enjoy it with a hearty Zinfandel or Malbec.

Pastitsio
Serves 8.

1/2 pound penne pasta
1/2 pound shredded mozarella

Lamb mixture:
1 pound ground lamb (or beef)
2 tablespoons olive oil
1 medium onion — diced
2 large cloves garlic — minced
1 tablespoon minced fresh rosemary (or 1 teaspoon dried)
1 tablespoon minced fresh oregano (or 1 teaspoon dried)
1/4 teaspoon nutmeg
1/4 teaspoon cinnamon
1/4 cup red wine
1 can finely diced tomatoes (15 oz)
4 ounces feta cheese — crumbled

Sauce:
3 tablespoons butter
3 tablespoons flour
2 cups milk
2 egg yolks — lightly beaten
4 ounces kefalotiri (or parmegiano) cheese — grated or shredded
1/2 teaspoon salt
1/4 teaspoon black pepper

Cook penne according to package directions. Drain, rinse with cold water to eliminate sticking, and set aside.

Lamb mixture:
Heat olive oil in a large sauté pan over medium high heat. Brown lamb in two batches, seasoning with salt and pepper. Set lamb aside and pour off excess grease.

Reduce heat to medium and add onion. Cook until translucent, about 5 minutes. Add garlic, rosemary, oregano, cinnamon, and nutmeg. Cook another minute. Add wine and deglaze pan. Reduce wine to about 1 tablespoon. Stir in tomatoes, including liquid, and lamb. Season with additional salt and pepper. Simmer for about 15 minutes. Stir in feta cheese and cook another 5 minutes.

Heat oven to 400F.

Sauce:
Heat milk in the microwave on high for 1 1/2 minutes. Melt butter in a sauce pan over low heat. Whisk in flour and cook, stirring constantly, for four minutes. Slowly pour in hot milk, whisking steadily, and cook until thickened. Slowly whisk in egg yolks. Whisk in kefalotiri (or parmegiano) cheese, cooking until melted and thick. Stir in salt and pepper.

Assemble:
Toss pasta with shredded mozzarella. Layer 3/4 of pasta in the bottom of 9 x 13 casserole dish. Layer meat mixture on top of pasta. Distribute remaining pasta over meat. Pour sauce evenly over pasta.

Place casserole in middle of oven and cook for 25 - 30 minutes until top browns.

Technorati: | | | | | |

Labels: , , ,

Read more...