I has so much delicious fun with the cardoncelli (king oyster mushrooms) alla cacciatora the other week, that I vowed to try and adapt a few other meaty recipes for them.
In the meantime though, they seem to have vanished from the shelves something I suspect has to do with those mushrooms having become quite trendy and therefore the production being poached early by chefs, with very little reaching retail.
But I found some last Thursday so decided to attempt to recreate a Roman classic dish, coda alla vaccinara, in a vegan/vegetarian key.
After all, if Obelix was able to understand directions for “Sanglier à la crème” as being “the same as for ‘fraises à la crème’ but with boar instead”, I
ought to be able to wing it in quite the same manner. Right?

RIGHT.

The recipe is fairly long because it start with making a “soffritto”, i.e. the basis for a lot of Italian savory dishes, in particular stews.
You need to take a carrot, one or two celery branches (mine were small so I used two), and an onion, all diced finely and slow cooked in oil (about an hour) in a heavy pan.

This will give you more than you need for the recipe but you can freeze any leftover in small portions for a next time (this amount of soffritto should be good for four dishes).

Once this is done and you only have a fourth of the soffritto in your pan, you can add some more oil (or butter) and fry your cardoncelli which you will have cut in two lengthwise. Fry them on the cut side.

Once they have coloured, add a glass of dry white wine, a teaspoon of tomato paste, two glasses of (vegetable) broth, pepper, a dash of cinnamon, and some nutmeg. If you broth is already salted, no need to add salt at this stage. If it isn’t, then add a little.

This will need to cook slowly for at least an hour (an hour and a half?) in the covered dish and you will need to check to see if the juices have not reduced too much. If they have, add a little water or broth.

After that time, put the mushroom on a plate and add half a teaspoon of dark cocoa to the liquid and partially liquidize/emulsify the sauce with an immersion blender (it’s better if you transfer the juices into a tall recipient as otherwise the sauce tends to splatter). Taste. Add salt and pepper to taste.

You can then return the sauce and mushrooms to the heavy dish and warm them up/keep them warm until serving time.
The sauce is extremely tasty so you’ll want to have something neutral to go with your cardoncelli. Like mashed potatoes or white beans, plain rice or broad flat pasta. You could even go mad and use this as the basis for lasagna.



cardoncelli alla vaccinara

 

This is a marriage made in heaven and vegetarian (can easily be made vegan if omitting butter).

You will need to get some cardoncelli mushrooms (king oyster mushrooms), slice them in two length-wise and pan fry them first in butter (or oil if you want to keep it vegan) on the cut side.
You might have to do this in batches depending on the amount of mushrooms and size of pan.
Once done, return all the mushrooms to the pan.

Chop finely some fresh rosemary and garlic (to taste), add to the pan with some dry white wine. Cover and simmer gently for about half an hour.
Much water will be rendered by the mushrooms so, after half an hour, take the lid off and reduce the liquid until syrupy. Make sure you do not reduce it too much because the sauce is essential.
Salt to taste at this stage, if needed ( I didn't use any).
Keep warm.

Make hummus by pulverizing cooked chickpeas with some of their cooking water, tahini, olive oil, lemon juice, garlic, salt and pepper.  with a high speed blender. The use of cooking water will allow for a smoother hummus with less fat content. Jiggle a bit the lemon/garlic inputs until you are happy with the taste.
Once it is ready you can either warm it up in a microwave or using a bain-marie. It does not have to be hot, warm is enough.

Then spoon a generous portion of hummus per plate, add the mushrooms on top and drizzle with cacciatora juices.


Cardoncelli alla cacciatora and warm hummus
Leap of Faith Brownies, obviously.




Left over Leap-of-Faith brownies and cinnamon whipped cream

Given to me on the 15th February 1984 by my then highschool friend Karen, this recipe is worlds away from any type of baking I had done back then and remains so today.
The recipe baffles me completely. It does not make any sense. Yet it works.

You see, I am used to recipes where you mix all sorts of ingredients, more or less carefully, to obtain a batter than can then be poured into a baking tin and then cooked. The mixture can be fairly liquid or stiff but in general it is still a manageable smooth batter.

Not that thing!
First you have to mix
1 cup of flour (sifted)
½ cup of sugar (was ¾ but I cut down on that)
¾ cup chopped pecan nuts (I use hazelnuts, easier to find here)
½ cup of milk
¼ cup of cocoa
2 tbs soft butter
2 tsp baking powder
1 tsp vanilla
¼ tsp salt

And then you get this:

Leap of faith brownies - step 1

This is some unruly mess, let me tell you! It is always a struggle to get the whisks out and I have to forcefully spoon the mixture into a buttered oven proof dish (11”7”2” read my instructions).

With such as a result:

Leap of faith brownies - step 2

But wait! There is more!
You have to mix

1 ¾ cup of hot water
½ cup of brown sugar (again, was ¾)
2 tbs cocoa.

And then drown the previous mixture in that:

Leap of faith brownies - step 3

Does this look like a cake in the making to you? To me this is more redolent of trying to make petrol in mud puddles as a kid...

You should then bake it (350 F for 35-40 minutes) and wait, expecting it to become a cake sort of thing.
To me this is totally a leap of faith.
I remember baking this for the first time and wondering what was wrong with the recipe (all of it said the gut feeling). However, it turned out fine!
More than fine, a wonderful surprise too.

Leap of faith brownies - step 4

For the top of the cake becomes brownie like, while the bottom becomes a rich chocolate sauce (see the glistening dark bit on the picture above? That's it!)
Perfect to eat warm with a scoop of ice cream and whipped cream.

And a surprising thing is that, when I last prepared the dish, I was baking and writing (never a good idea but at NaNo time as it was back then, 40 minutes of free time are too precious to waste).
The timer went off (at least I had not forgotten that) and I went to inspect the cake and take the above picture.
Then I figured I would turn the oven off and let the cake cool inside, so as to protect it from the cats. Right?
Except that I forgot to turn the oven off and I wrote for a good 25 minutes – if not more – before noticing that the fan of my oven was still going on.
Miracle: the cake had not burnt. The cream however has nearly all disappeared.

However, I figured my guest would not know about this last bit and eat the brownies all the same.
Which they did. Compliments to the chef and all.
So many thanks to Karen whose amazing – amazing? More like mind boggling – recipe so unwittingly saved my arse after all these years.
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spacedlaw: (Default)
( Nov. 3rd, 2023 10:27 am)
Having posted this picture on IG,
Torta di pane al formaggio con funghi
I was faced with requests for the recipe.
A problem this, as I totally eyeballed it – as usual.

It is a #NoWaste thing so it makes use of old bread (a mix of panini all’olio, sourdough and whole wheat slices left over from a wine tasting event the week before), old goat milk (i.e., long conservation yet still past its “best before” date. Obviously you are more than welcome to use any fresh milk you want - even almond or oat ones will do), FRESH eggs, various cheese bits and bobs. Some cream (it was long conservation and not yet past its prime).
The true issue here are quantities, hence the eyeballing.

I cut the old bread in bits and dumped the old milk (it was a half-litre pack) on the chunks in the early morning, leaving them to soak and plump up a bit for at least two hours.
After two hours, I gave the bread bits a stir, breaking up the bigger ones and judged how much liquid I still had in the bowl, as well as evaluated how much mass of bread I had all over.
On the basis of this assessment, I decided 3 medium eggs and a small brick of cream (200 ml) could do, so I mixed them together in another small bowl. I added (very) little salt, plus a liberal amount of nutmeg and freshly ground black pepper. Then I dumped this on the bread bits, gave it another thorough mix and let them soak again for another hour.

I gathered the bits of cheese left in my fridge (on that specific day: slices of bright industrial cheddar and some smoked scamorza left from a toasted sandwich spree) and cut them in smaller pieces (slices in 9 to 12 bits, scamorza in hazelnut to walnut sized bits), which I added to the bread mix at the end of the second soak.

Then I buttered a deep 28cm silicone dish, coating it further with breadcrumbs, then dropped all the gunk in there.

My oven was already on (on 165c) for (long) broth making so I just added another shelf and plopped the torta in there. Now because of the fairly low temperature used, it took my torta quite a long time to bake (about 1 hour and a half? Possibly even more.) but obviously you can just cook yours at higher temperature and adjust the cooking time. The long baking time allowed for the bread to still soak some of the liquids (usually bread butter pudding recipes tend to prescribe 45 minutes cooking time, I suppose for that same reason) but if you are in a hurry, by all means, do raise your oven temperature.
In any case, do regularly check the consistency with a knife: The blade should come out slightly wet still but without eggy go on it.

Let the torta cool in the dish before unmoulding. Best eaten warm, but can totally be reheated in a microwave.

In the present case, an optional bunch of chopped assorted mushrooms (champignons and pleurotus) was pan-fried and dumped on top of the torta. You may dress yours as you please or leave like this with a side of salad.
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spacedlaw: (Default)
( Aug. 18th, 2023 12:34 pm)
So easy, so innocent, so snappy!


No waste lemon snaps


These were born of my watching this iG video from Mallika Basu the other day. 

Since I am drinking lemon water every morning, I thought it was a good idea to reuse the peel as she does (minus the sugar because that's how I roll). All the better since I happened to score some Sorrento lemons, which peel (and pith) is particularly sweet and fragrant.
(I think the US equivalent might be Meyer lemons - other types might result in more stringent snaps and juice).

However, I was left with some gloppy pulp in addition to the drink and - since these are GOOD lemons - refused to just dump it away.
So I weighed the pulp, added a fourth of that weight of each sugar and butter, a pinch of salt, and half the pulp's weight in dried bread crumbs (another reuse for old bread), taking that idea from my friend Alice, who uses breadcrumb instead of flour in her crumble.

I spread the dough very thinly on parchment, traced rough rectangles with a knife, and cooked it at about 175C for 30 minutes, letting the snaps mostly cool down in the spent oven before separating them on a tray.

More sugar could be added (say up to a third of the pulp's weight ?) but it might affect the browning, so watch your snaps after 20 minutes. 

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This is a recipe my friend Alice had us prepare at a Garden To Table event a few weeks ago. Since the rolls are best eaten at room temperature, it’s a perfect prepare-ahead dish and if you have the means to transport it safely, a good picnic item. You can even stuff sandwiches with a couple of these rolls, or eat them on top of a mixed leaves salad.

Aubergines and swordfish involtini

You will need (for 2 persons):
2 long aubergines
1 thick slice of swordfish (2 cm high)
Mint, basil, parsley. More than you think.
Red onion or spring onion.
Optional chili (seeds out)
Olive oil.

Stick you piece of fish in the freezer before starting, it will be easier to slice thinly later on.

You will start by slicing the aubergines. Ideally each slice should be 2 to 3 mm thick and cut in the length of the eggplants, so that you can later roll them. Count them (now or after they are cooked).

My friend roasted hers in a hot oven (20 minutes or so?) but you can also grill them in a skillet or barbecue. This is best as it imparts a lovely smoky taste to the slices, which will go nicely with the swordfish.
In my case however, it was too hot to contemplate use of oven of standing over a grill so I put the slices in a deep glass dish, salted them slightly, covered and put them in the microwave at 900 W for 5 minutes. If you do go this way, you will have to drain them afterwards as they will have released water.

The eggplant slices can be left out to cool while you chop your herbs, chili if using, and onions together. Judging the quantity that you need to have for the rolls is very tricky, roughly a spoonful of mix per slice is necessary. In any case, you can change the herbs to suit your taste (or availability) and add more onions or not add any.

Now it is time to take your swordfish from the freezer and cut it in thin slices. Carpaccio-thin slices. You’ll need a sharp knife but hopefully the cold will have firmed it a bit and you should not have any problems with it.

Once it is all cut up, line each of your cooked eggplant slices with first a layer of fish and then a spoonful of herb mix. Roll them tight, salt them sparingly, and place the involtini in either an oiled oven dish or an oiled pan with a tight lid, with their ”tails” down. Drizzle a little more oil on top. Any spare bits of swordfish or herb mix can be put together with the rolls. If you are using the oven, you can also add quartered cherry tomatoes (or not).

You can then either bake them in the hot oven for about 5 (to 10) minutes OR cook on the stove top in the pan with the lid on (I did mine over an induction plate for 5 minutes).

Let them cool down to room temperature. Any juice in the pan can be used to season your bed of salad (together with a a little lemon juice) if that’s how you want to eat them, or to soak your sandwich bread in (or use as the base for a soup - don't throw it away!)

You can use other types of fish, you can either slice or mince your fish: whatever is easier for you. Sometimes fishmongers will have prepared fishburgers (usually salmon heavy) for sale. You could use this as well (as long as they are not breaded).



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This is about a mushroom and rice pasticcio, to be eaten as a PRIMO (i.e., with some proteins accompanied by a lush amount of veggies coming afterwards). Feel free to increase proportion to suit your needs.

Rice and mushroom pasticcio

For 2 persons:

100gr of risotto rice
50g of dried porcini mushroom
A litre of water.
A shallot
A handful of fresh mushrooms (optional)
Thyme
Bechamel (flour/milk)
Salt, pepper, and nutmeg to taste.
Smoked cheese (I used smoked scamorza but any smoked cheese will do)

Soak the dried porcini in a litre of water for half an hour.

Pick out the rehydrated mushroom but keep the soaking water (filter it to make sure it doesn’t have any dirt/grit in it).

Turn on the oven to 200C (ventilated)

Warm up the soaking water to simmering temperature and add salt (to taste).

Cut the porcini in small bits.

Cut the fresh mushrooms (if using)

Mince the shallot and gently cook with a spoonful of oil in a medium size saucepan, together with the fresh mushroom first – until cooked – and then the rehydrated ones.

Once this is all nicely cooked (say 15 minutes?), scoop the shallots and mushroom out and put them in a bowl to rest.

Drop the rice in the oil left in the saucepan, give it a swirl to ensure the grains are all covered with oil and toast nicely. Then gradually add the salted soaking water to make a butter- and cheese-less risotto, until the rice is cooked but still al dente (the time will depend on the quality of your rice – check after 10 minutes). Don’t be scared to rsise a stir in your pan as vigorous stirring will help the rice releasing starch (plus it’s a good work-out: put some music on to help you along!).

Once the rice is cooked, set the pan aside. Check for salt. Add if necessary. Get fancy with pepper and nutmeg.

Line the base of a small (15 to 20 cm) springform dish with parchment. Butter copiously all sides and the bottom. Drop your risotto in the dish, level the top.

Clean your saucepan now because it gets some more use:

With a heaped spoonful of flour and 2 spoonsful of oil, start a roux in the pan, then dilute it slowly with milk (and any left-over soaking juice if any) to make a bechamel (though strictly speaking it is also a velouté if you are using the soaking juice).
Once bechamel stage is achieved, add your shallot and mushroom bits to it, check for salt. Add pepper and more nutmeg.

Top your rice with this happy mixture.

Top with grated smoked cheese.

Pop the dish into the oven for 20 minutes (top must get golden and bubbly).

Take dish out of the oven and let rest – untouched - for about 15 minutes.

Run a knife between rice and metal and pry the form open. Now you may unleash your creature!

Slide your pasticcio – with the help of the parchment – onto a serving plate.

Rice and mushrooms pasticcio

DEVOUR
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spacedlaw: (Default)
( Feb. 19th, 2017 04:37 pm)
I think we've all got these types of emails. That and the penis enlargement ones.
Regardless of our sex or sexual preferences, obviously.
Just like we all get [insert African state here] scams regardless of the state of our bank account.

But it so happens hot dates are good.
Just mind that you don't burn your tongue on them.
[insert salacious emoji here]



Hot dates

Use un-pitted dates, preferably medjool.
In a pan or skillet heat up some olive oil.
Crumble some dried chili in it (to taste).
Add the dates and let them plump a bit and get warm (about 5 minutes). Mind that they don't burn.
Drain them in a bowl, sprinkle with salt flakes (smoked salt flakes are great if you have them)
Sprinkle them with a little grated zest of orange and lemon.

Wait until just warmish
Enjoy with a glass of wine (or your favourite aperitif drink)


Hot dates
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These were about erasure and I did not have any material (or time) to play with, so I am pushing these aside for the time being.
I made pasta, vitel’ tonné, vignarola, and cake instead. YOU CAN’T HAVE IT ALL.

Pomodori vestiti, crema di ricotta e pecorino, olio di basilico
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spacedlaw: (Default)
( Aug. 25th, 2015 02:07 pm)
Yeah, I know: As a title, that’s a trifle generic.
However, even if the version I am about to document hereinafter is a fig tart, that recipe works for any juicy fruit, so I suppose the recipe is fairly generic. And slightly incorrect too, as tarts go [insert improper tart jokes here]

Fig Tart

What happens here is a rising brisée soaking up the juices of a spare layer of fruits. So strictly too high to be a real tart, too thick a dough to be cake, too moist to be biscuit (also only cooks once if you want to be pedantic about what a biscuit really is). However…

You know what? I don’t care. Call it anything you like. I call it SIMPLE and I call it GOOD. FRUITY is adequate too.

So what does it take?

An oven heated up at 200c

260g flour
1 teaspoon of baking powder
3 tablespoons of sugar
6 tablespoons of cream (the fluid type)
150g butter
A pinch of salt
A dusting of cinnamon (or vanilla)

Mix all this and pour into a parchment-lined deep dish.
Cut some fruits in half or segment (here figs, collected from a tree we have at work, are cut in two – that works fine with small fruits like cherries, plums, apricots, or figs. For things like peaches or rhubarb, segments work better)
Lay them on top of the dough, pressing the fruits gently into the paste – only partially as the dough will rise.
Cook in the oven for about 30 minutes.

Fig tart

Let it cool partially or fully before cutting and eating.
Good on its own, this can be served with cream (clotted or not), mascarpone, ice cream, or even custard.
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Remember that recipe I nicked from Heston Blumenthal?
An amount of porridge oats
Three time that amount in liquid
Three time that amount in flavoured butter (!)
Some aromatic purée
And…
A VERY short cooking time?

As in: You boil the liquid, add the oats, let them absorb the liquid stirring, add the butter, adjust liquids if necessary.
Take off the heat.
Add the puréed stuff.
Garnish.
Serve.
Eat?

I have been making a lighter version of my tomato version over the past weeks – using basil infused olive oil instead of butter and cottage cheese or labneh instead of burrata.

But last Sunday, as I was walking about the neighbourhood in a chilly weather I was assailed by a profound desire for chocolate. So my mind toyed with the concept while I was increasing my step. Then I stopped to forage for some rosemary in bloom.

Because you see, it had to be chocolate but it still had to be savoury.

So I boiled some water (150g) with a pinch of smoked salt and a pinch of unrefined cane sugar. Added a few finely chopped leaves of rosemary.
Added 50g of rolled oats
Cooked briefly.
Took the pan away from the heat, added a big tablespoon of raw chocolate, some cocoa nibs, and a piece of salted butter.
Graced this with a dollop of cottage cheese garnished with rosemary flowers and more cocoa nibs.

Had to chase Caos away from the plate – the bid doofus has a thing for cottage cheese which I tend to humour but chocolate is toxic to animals, so no licking allowed this time.

Chocolate Porridge

Ate.

It was all I had wanted.
May have to repeat in the future if my chocolate addiction does not abate.

Chocolate Porridge

All chocolate goodies from the fabulous Alyssa.
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As per miracle, holiday happened. Very briefly and intensely - and all over the place:

- Went to Cupra Marittima for Ferragosto (mostly ate)
- Then back home for 2 days (mostly packed)
- Then to Paris (ate and walked the Coulée Verte) for a day or so
- Then to Nancy (visiting my parents, reading, and eating) for five days
- Then back to Paris (barely the time to eat) for half a day
- Then home for a blink (I only just barely made it into the Frida Kahlo exhibition before it closed - some laundry was performed)
- Then to Cura Marittima again (some walking about happened) for 2 days and a half
- Then to Sarnano for six days. There - thank goodness - it rained so I could not walk about so much and was forced to REST.
- Then back home to do laundry and mentally prepare for return into madness

(I need a new holiday to recover form my holiday)

HOWEVER

While in Nancy, we were invited to an Apéro Dinatoire at my parents' new neighbours' and one of the nice dishes we were served was a wonderful and moist apple cake. We immediately petitioned the author for recipe and I decided to try a variant on my colleagues as soon as I would be back into work, to see if they could be bribed into sending me on holiday again. (not such lick yet, although they did love the cake).

Moellux Poires et Chocolat

So here's my spin on Ludovic's incredible Moelleux aux Pommes:

BASE

100g flour
1 packet of instant yeast
70g sugar
45g milk
40g soft butter
1 egg
1 pinch of salt
+
2 firm pears peeled and chopped in small pieces.
1 handful of small chocolate chips (the ones I have used are tiny – the size of big pin heads – so you might want to chop yours up, if needed)


TOPPING

70g very soft/liquefied butter
100g sugar
1 egg


Set your oven on 200ºC.
Take a square 22cm/22cm deep dish (or the round equivalent if you can be bothered to square a circle – I used a square dish because it is easier to cut pieces). Line it with parchment.
Mix all the first seven ingredients for the base. Thoroughly. Then add first the chocolate chips and last the pear pieces, making sure the batter covers them all. There is not a lot of batter and the adjunction of fruit should about double the amount that you have.
Pour the mixture into your dish and stick in the oven for 20 minutes.

While this is cooking, mix together the ingredients for the topping. You can use the same mixing bowl than for the base!
After the 20 minutes have gone, take your base out of the oven and pour the topping mixture over the top of your partially baked cake. Stick the whole thing back in the over for another 20 minutes.

Let it cool a bit (liquid in the fruits will stay warm a long time).
Eat warm (best!) or cold.

The consistency should be similar to that of a bread and butter pudding. Fruits can be changed (the original version was calling for 4 green apples – and no chocolate chips) but make sure that your fruits are not too juicy (pears are juicier than apples, even if not fully ripe, which is why I have used only 2 in my version of the recipe, adding the chocolate chips for fun) and not too ripe otherwise they might cook to some sort of jam. The nice young man I stole this recipe from (Hi, Ludovic!) has used peaches with some success and I am pretty sure this recipe would be great with plums too. It might probably also work with cherries.

Now, if I could just work out a savoury version…



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Where I totally poach a cooking scheme from Heston Blumenthal – no liquid nitrogen needed.

So a few weeks ago, I was in London and I went to have lunch at Dinner by Heston Blumenthal.
(Recipes by the man, actual cooking done by somebody else: Ashley Palmer-Watts.)
(A hoax, you say? I believe it is called a concept.)
(Semantics? Well. What wrong with that? I couldn’t make a living without semantics. I certainly couldn’t afford to eat at Dinner without semantics too.)

A very nice lunch it was too, with dishes inspired from old traditional English cook books. The oldest dish I had that day was, in its earlier avatar, traced back to 1390 while the most recent one stemmed from 1720 (clearly an upstart, though there are recipes on the menu which are as recent as the 19th century).

One of the dishes I had that day was this:

Nettle Porridge (c.1660)

Which is a nettle porridge (c.1660) garnished with frog's legs, girolles, garlic & fennel (attributed to “The Whole Body of Cookery Dissected” by William Rabisha, 1661).
The nettle porridge itself tickled my curiosity and I knew I would have to play with the idea of a savoury oat porridge not necessarily cooked in water or milk. And not reduced to mulch.

The recipe as served is actually – I believe – also a spin on Heston’s Snail Porridge, a dish from his Fat Duck restaurant which – lucky for me – made it into the pages of The Big Fat Duck Cookbook. Which I have in my - not negligible - cooking books library.
While I had bought the book mostly because of Dave Ms Kean’s art in it – the book is enormous, which make it a tad difficult to use as an actual cookbook – I was happy to resort to it in order to figure out the dynamics of that particular porridge.

Heston makes a rather complex recipe of his snail porridge, but I was able to extract some very basic tips for my own private play time:

An amount of porridge oats
Three time that amount in liquid
Three time that amount in flavoured butter (!)
Some aromatic purée
And…
A VERY short cooking time.

The recipe more or less runs like this:
You boil the liquid, add the oats, let them absorb the liquid stirring, add the butter, adjust liquids if necessary.
Take off the heat.
Add the puréed stuff.
Garnish.
Serve.
Eat.

Voilà. Less than 10 minutes (more like five, really: the longest point must be getting the liquid to a boiling point).
Except that the original recipe involves making chicken stock, blanching and puréeing nettles, bringing together a parsleyed butter which is far more complex than what I would have envisaged from just reading those two words. And snails.
While mine didn’t.

So what was my take on it?
For now, tomatoes.
(You can’t get more Italian and seasonal than this).

What I did was to slice thinly some tomatoes and add salt so they would render their water.
Since the salad I later did with the flesh bits was rather tasteless (we’ve had too much water, I fear, for the tomatoes to really be any good), I could have just juiced the tomatoes so I would suggest you do just that, if you have the tools to do so.

Pomodori

Dear Heston uses 10 grams of porridge oats for 2 persons (for a starter) but I weighted that much in a bowl and thought “Naaah. That’s never going to feed my mad cyclist!” so upped the proportion to 50 grams for a primo. I could have used more – the portion was rather lean – but I was concerned about not having tomato water (using 50g of oats meant having to use 150g of liquid). Besides the recipe is fairly rich, so a little goes a nice way.

Porridge oats

The next bit to prepare was the flavoured butter.
By laws of proportion, I should have prepared 150 grams of it but I decided to keep the level of fat at about 50 grams instead (about. I didn’t weight it) on the basis that it should be already plenty and I wanted to garnish the porridge with stracciatella di burrata and a splash of olive oil.
I melted some unsalted butter, torn some basil and let the lot do their mingling magic away from the heat.

Basil infused butter

About an hour later…

Once the table was set, I boiled the tomato water, added the oats and stirred until they had absorbed the water. Since keeping a bright green colour was not on my list of priorities (as it would do if – like Heston – I had worked with puréed nettles which would have turned to a yucky green if cooked more), I left the pan on the stove and added first the flavoured butter and then some tomato sauce, table spoon by table spoon, stirring until the consistency was that of “a runny rice porridge” as per Heston’s instructions. Think risotto consistency.
Five minutes maximum all in all unless you want your oats to be thoroughly mushed.
Called the cyclist to come and eat. NOW!

Dressed the porridge in two plates, added cracked pepper, a splash of stracciatella di burrata cream, a coma of stracciatella di burrata, and a semi colon of the best olive oil I have.
Served.
Ate.

Tomato porridge with stracciatella di burrata


Verdict?
I could totally have that for breakfast every day (for a week at least). The mad cyclist would have preferred pasta.
Next experiment will involve beetroot and blue cheese. That should be plenty colourful and tasty too.
Oh show me the way to the next cocktail bar…
(Oh don’t ask why. No don’t ask why.)

Actually.
Do ask why.

I don’t drink cocktails. They are by and large over-sweet for my taste and I drink very little alcohol anyway.
I tend to prefer my whiskey neat (because it’s good whiskey and I am not wasting it). Vodka, I normally use for cooking (unless it’s Żubrówka, in which case I drink it ice cold and neat with a side of blinis and salmon or fish eggs)
Therefore, when I got that chocolate martini making kit in the mail…

Chocolate martini making kit (by Blyss Chocolate)

Hang on.
Who gets chocolate martini making sets in the mail?

Why, members of the Blyss Chocolate Club, of course!
Monthly raw virgin chocolate landing at your door. Delicious eco-solidarity morsels (or powder) brought together by Alyssa, the loveliest cocoa grower and harvester you’ll ever meet. Consider getting a subscription, it is well worth it.

So I did get that kit in the mail. In June. And instructions (thank goodness). And then I immediately ran into troubles: I don’t have martini glasses.
Utter drama ensued. As you can imagine. (well, no, not really. But it could have. If I had felt strongly about cocktails in the first place. Though if I had, I most likely would not have found myself glassless. Oh well.)

Also: for health related issues, I could only sample the martini during the day (as aperitif or post prandial drink). Which meant that I could only have it during the weekend (there is sufficient mayhem at the office right now without having to add alcohol related nonsense). And I was going away for 2 weekends in a row.

Thus the kit sat – dejected – in my cupboard for almost a full month.
But by the time I was ready to have that martini, I REALLY NEEDED that martini.
(Have I mentioned that the office is murder these days?)
(That’s it’s been murder for the past seven months and is unlikely to change before… another seven or so?)

So there goes the chocolate martini mambo:

MARTINI MINUS ONE WEEK
Take some good quality vodka, measure 260 ml of it (or more) in a bottle and dump the content of the raw cocoa nibs phial in it. Let it rest, shaking once a day, for at least a week.

MARTINI MINUS ONE DAY
In a saucepan, dump the content of the raw cocoa powder phial, together with sugar and 280ml water. Combine well, bring to a boil and let it cook until syrupy consistency, stirring occasionally.
Let it cool.
Once cool, put in the fridge.

MARTINI DAY
Measure 4cl chocolate infused vodka, 2cl chocolate syrup, 1 cl Kalhua (or if you like me think this is WAY too sweet already, substitute by equivalent measure of strong coffee). Add a couple of ice cubes.
Shake? Stir?

Call in Daniel Craig on that one: He’s the current expert.



Or don’t.


Pour over a spoonful of chocolate coated cocoa nibs in a frosted glass.
Enjoy.

Chocolate martini

Resist having another one: This thing is sugar-loaded.

Now that is all good and nice (very good and nice actually: that thing could become addictive) but once you’ve had a glass, what do you do with the rest of the prepared stuff?
(The Love drinks even less than I do and he hates sweet stuff even more strongly than I do so there were plenty of leftovers).

WHY MAKE CHOCOLATE MARTINI PUDDING, OF COURSE!!!
(Obviously)
(I am shocked that you didn’t even think of this yourself)
(Disclosure: I only thought about it because I kept feeling that the martini could do with some whipped cream on top)

So what you need for the Chocolate Martini Waltz is:
- The rest of the chocolate vodka added to the rest of that espresso. It should amount to roughly 250 ml.
- The rest of the chocolate syrup It should amount to roughly 250 ml as well.
- Some agar-agar powder (mine comes in handy individual doses, each of them sufficient to gel 500 ml of liquid)

Some jelly moulds or glasses (2 to 4 depending how much you want in each serving)
Whipped cream (obviously)
The rest of the chocolate covered cocoa nibs

And, possibly some cookies of your choice.
See, alcohol doesn’t gel all that well – in fact, I didn’t really know if my attempted pudding would gel at all – so a part will not set. But there are (at least) two ways to handle this:
EITHER
You crumble some of your cookies of choice at the bottom of your glass/mould and let them soak in the excess alcohol

Chocolate martini pudding

OR
You just let the pudding float in its own alcohol, which will make a nice sauce once you have upturned the pudding in a deep dish - à la crème caramel (only in a not-suitable-for-kids type of way).

Chocolate martini pudding

For my Rome peeps, I suggest the use of Pepitas (also known as “crack”) for the first scenario.
(Pepitas are locally produced chocolate cookies loaded with dark chocolate chips and Himalayan pink salt – pure crack in a I’d-better-steer-clear-of-that-cookie-place sort of way). The salt counter-balances the sweetness of it all (which is less obvious because of

As for the pudding recipe, just mix the agar-agar with the chocolate syrup, bring it to a boil, stirring. Take off the heat and add the alcohol/coffee part, stirring some more.
Pour in the moulds/glasses and let cool before covering in cling film and placing in the fridge overnight.

The day after, either upturn your puddings or not, add whipped cream on top and garnish with the chocolate covered cocoa nibs.
Voilà.

(I got drunk just eating one of these, so don’t eat and drive, eh?)

 
Which is this:

Tartelette  la crme de pecorino et fves


It is basically a whole wheat pie crust baked blind and filled with a mixture of ricotta and pecorino, with a few shelled fava beans on top but since my friend Diana asked for the recipe...

There it is )

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spacedlaw: (Default)
( Mar. 16th, 2013 02:14 pm)
There is this bizarre ingredient here, called "grano arso" - burnt wheat - a specialty from the Puglia region.
That burnt wheat was that left ovter the harvest, traditionally picked after the remaining wheat stalks had been burnt to the ground. So this flour comes from stray kernels that might have gone lost but were collected nevertheless because you don't let food go to waste.

Nowadays, of course, wheat is deliberately burnt to recreate what has become a delicacy. The flour can find its way into pasta or bread.
Or, as today's dish shows, gnocchi.

Gnocchi affumicati con chiodini, salsiccia e stracchino

The flour is a dark brownish grey, with a pleasant smoky scent but it needs to be mixed with normal flour not to be overpowering, so I though it would do well with mashed potatoes.

On with the recipe... )
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Or rather the idea of food.
Or even better: ideas of food.

It all started with a tiramisu. The recollection of how smooth and fluffy mascarpone can be.
Except I wanted it to be savoury.
Of course.
Why go the obvious way?
Now a couple of years back, I had created a pecorino and fava beans version for Easter. Seasonal and all. It had been a great success.
I realize now – looking for a post – that I'd never blogged the recipe. Naughty, naughty.
Alas, since it was an improvisation, the recipe might actually be lost in the meanders of my failing memory.

Oh well.
So this was the starting point.
I had guests on Saturday night and I wanted a show starter.
A seasonal show starter.
So no fava beans this time.

But it's puntarelle season and they are just a marvellous green.
Besides, they are absolutely Roman in essence.
And a welcome juicy crunch, a promise of spring in every bite.
Puntarelle are traditionally served with a sauce made of olive oil, lemon juice, anchovies, and garlic (sometimes, this is optional).
So the idea was – obviously – to recreate such sauce in the guise of a tiramisu, i.e. with a mixture of mascarpone and eggs.
Plus a biscuit base.

Ah. The biscuit base.
That could be a problem of course.
In the pecorino and fava beans version, I had done away with it, opting to replace it with raw and shelled fava beans instead, for a bit of crunch. But this time, I decided to use tiny croutons for added texture.

So there it is...

Une ide de tiramisu avec puntarelle

Puntarelle tiramisu )


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spacedlaw: (Default)
( Jan. 27th, 2013 03:11 pm)

Last weekend was pretty miserable in the line of soggy with a side of frigid and would have been perfect to stay at home, tucked in bed with a book, a pot of tea and the usual feline complement.
Alas, this wasn’t to be.
However, if you have to surrender domestic bliss, you have to do it in style and what better excuse for venturing out in the cold and wet than a chance to gape at Proserpina’s thigh followed by culinary delights at my favourite restaurant?
None.
Trust me on this.

The event was organised by Tavole Romane, a previously anonymous food tasting organism I had been following from some time now and which finally showed its face that day. Two faces, in fact, those of Silvia and Gabriele.
The exceptional visit we were invited to join was a guided tour of Galleria Borghese – featuring most heart bracingly the famous thigh of Proserpina – followed by culinary bondage in the guise of a set menu degustation at Metamorfosi.
How could I ever resist such an offer?
You’re right. I didn’t.

So last Saturday, I roped in the Love and my favourite mother in law in tow and offed to Villa Borghese.
Tavole Romane had organised one visit in Italian and one in English and the two groups proceeded to move in en block to the Galleria.

Now it is really a shame that the Galleria Borghese enforces a strict no photo policy... )

Gigli

A well spent day and a bunch of well spent us too.
Many thanks to Silvia and Gabriele of Tavole Romane for a great event!
spacedlaw: (Default)
( Dec. 9th, 2012 03:48 pm)

I don't blog food.
Well, now, that isn't quite right, is it? I do blog the odd recipe and goodness knows that I blog a LOT of food pictures across the internet.

I just don't normally write about restaurants.

First because I think that most of you guys are far away and thus aren't likely to come here and check out the places I could recommend. But also I have this deeply ingrained loathing about having to explain why I like a place (or anything, really).

Blame this on having to go through hoards of heinous compulsory “explications de texte” as a kid – where you have to pseudo-analyse a writer to confirm that, yep, his or her text is worth the reading – goodness knows I do. After so many years, I still today refuse to inspect the reasons as to why I love something, whether it is a story – even more so if the text is a poem – a painting, a piece of music, or a meal.

The best I can come up with is this: If it moves me, then it is good.
To me.
You are entirely entitled to think otherwise. After all, I can't expect you to feel exactly as I do, in particular half a planet away.
Despite what we have been force-fed at school, critique or appreciation isn't so much about how an author grew up, what they had to breakfast on the day or what type of lovers they favour or if they like the colour blue. Beauty -pleasure - is in the eyes, the ears, the hands, the mouth, and the guts of the beholder and – what's more – in the deeper hidden folds of memories and education-driven crinkles.

Having just written that – my sort of disclaimer: the legal education does tend to repeat on one's conscience – I shall now proceed to tell you – albeit only briefly - about my favourite restaurant in Rome, Metamorfosi.

Sala

Warning: No matter how corny this may sound, this is love, pure and as unadulterated as it should be.
Though, of course, it can also be steamed, smoked, poached, slow-cooked, grilled, foamed, whipped, charred, infused, sprayed, minced, roasted, pacojetted, etc. (you catch the drift).

I've just returned this Friday to Metamorfosi for a delayed birthday lunch and, once again, I came to realize that this is the best place for me to start the weekend, let alone to treat myself to a few hours of utter pleasure. I always leave the place with body and mind singing in harmony, feeling utterly pampered, reassured that life is worth living, as well as feeling gloriously tipsy.

Why is that? Well...
Wonderful food, brilliant presentation, adorable service, great wines.
Of course.
You see why I have problems with those “explications”? Isn't all this rather obvious?
Besides which, Metamorfosi was just given its first Michelin star, something I've said from the first they were bound to get. And do mark that I just wrote “first”. I don't see them stopping there... So all of the above are per definition a given.
Therefore, if I had to dig deeper and search below the veneer, beyond the surface, I would say that I love Metamorfosi because it engages all my senses, the most important of which being my imagination.

So there you have it.
If EVER you come to Italy and want to sample something different from the nominal Roman fare – all good stuff, just a tad repetitive after a while – go to this place and let your mind blown away.

Metamorfosi
Via Giovanni Antonelli 30/32
Roma
Tel: 06 8076839
http://metamorfosiroma.it/


With gratitude to a great team:
Chef - Roy Caceres
Sous-chef - John Regefalk
Sommelier - Paolo Abballe
And all the unsung heroes, in the dining room and below.

Various pictures...

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