Blu Aubergine Blog

RECIPE: Ribollita (Tuscan minestrone bread soup)

There are few things better on a bitter cold day, or evening, than a bowl of ribollita, the cool weather Tuscan bread soup. It's made with a Tuscan minestrone base, to which stale bread is added -- preferably the tasteless, salt-free crusty bread that became a staple in Tuscany when an overwhelming majority of citizens refused to pay a steep salt tax. It's even been used to clean precious frescoes in Tuscan churches, as its texture is similar to a sponge (its stand-alone taste is fairly similar, too). 

How is a Tuscan minestrone different from your average minestrone, you may ask? It shares all of the basic vegetables, like celery, carrots, and onions, of course. But Tuscans, like their mangiafagioli (bean-eaters) moniker suggests, often add cannellini beans to dishes, for added heft, starch, and protein.

Their minestrone is no exception, so they use beans to replace the tiny pasta tubes that the rest of the Italian peninsula uses. They also add Tuscan kale (or lacinato), what in Italian is called cavolo nero (black kale) or cavolo laciniato (fringed kale). This is sliced or hand-torn into strips that get thrown into the minestrone, adding color and great nutrients and fiber to the soup. 

The thing that turns Tuscan minestrone into ribollita (which literally means "re-boiled") is the addition of bread. The Tuscans are a thrifty bunch, not ones to let bread go to waste simply because it's stale. So they have a series of bread-thickened soups in their culinary repertoire to make the most of it. Ribollita is the wintry version, and it's one of my all-time favorites. It freezes well, so you can make a huge pot of it during, say, a February snowstorm. You can eat it until (and if) you get sick of it, and freeze the rest for another blustery night.

RIBOLLITA

(Serves 4-8)

6 TBS. Olive oil, plus more for drizzling

1 onion, chopped into medium dice

1 carrot, chopped into medium dice

2 stalks celery, chopped into medium dice

3 cloves garlic

2 cups cooked or canned cannellini beans, drained

4 whole peeled tomatoes or 1 15-oz. can peeled tomatoes

8 cups vegetable stock or chicken stock

1 sprig fresh rosemary

2 sprigs fresh thyme

2 bunches chopped cavolo nero (black kale)

1 small loaf Tuscan (unsalted) or crusty peasant bread, preferably a day old

1/2 cup freshly grated parmigiano cheese

Salt & pepper to taste

- Warm 6 TBS. of olive oil in a large pot over medium heat. When it's hot, toss in the onion, celery, carrot, and garlic. Sprinkle with a dash of salt and pepper and cook, stirring so the vegetables don't stick, until they're softened, about 5 minutes.

- Add the tomatoes and beans, stir and cook for 2 minutes. Add the broth and the rosemary and thyme, and cook for 15-20 minutes, so the flavors meld.

- Add the kale (and remove the herbs if you'd like), and stir to blend. Add salt and pepper to taste.

- Tearing the bread with your hands into bite-sized chunks, slowly add the bread to the broth, mixing to absorb the bread every 10 pieces or so. You may not use the whole loaf, but you may. The consistency should be a thick porridge. Let the soup cook another 15 minutes or so, simmering on low, so the bread breaks down and becomes integrated into the soup a bit. Taste to adjust for seasoning.

- To serve, ladle into bowls, drizzle generously with the highest-quality extra-virgin olive oil you can find (Tuscan is most relevant here), and sprinkle with grated parmigiano cheese.

Note: Like most soups, this one is even better the next day, or even the day after that. Since it's ribollita (re-boiled) anyway, it keeps very well for several days in the fridge, or for 2 months in the freezer.

QUICK BITE: Salmon with Mustard Cream Sauce

It's been a long winter. Yes, the understatement of the year. I'm writing now in New York City, where it's a cool 33 degrees and almost April. This makes everyone in the city a little stir-crazy, itching for the thaw of spring weather and fresh green anything. Personally, I've had it with "restorative" soups and stews, braised meats and root vegetables galore -- much as I love these items in the thick of winter's cold. So, what to make when the mercury says it's still winter but our hearts, minds, and palates are aching for spring? Salmon with mustard cream sauce is the perfect "bridge" dish between the seasons. 

We all know by now that salmon boasts lots of Omega-3 fatty acids and that it's one of the most healthful varieties of fish to consume. A tangy mustard-cream sauce is a classic accompaniment that really brightens the fish and cuts its strong flavor and richness with zing. Adding a bit of freshly chopped dill to the sauce is a classic herbal touch, though not necessary. Pairing the fish with some winter veggies -- we do have to clear out our fridges of beloved winter greens somehow, don't we? -- grounds the meal in the now while we look towards the coming spring with open arms (and full bellies!). Roasted beets, sauteed brocoletti (with plenty of garlic and chili pepper), and a long grain and wild rice combo are the perfect sides to make this a well-rounded dinner. A mix of color is the easiest way for you to create a balanced meal without much effort.

How to make the sauce? Simple. You can use the same pan you use to cook the salmon.

First, heat some olive oil in a saute' pan (nonstick is best). Sprinkle the salmon fillet with plenty of salt, and place in the pan. Note: if you have the skin on the fillet, you can place it skin side down in the pan first, to crisp it up. Otherwise, put the top side down.

Second, sear for 3-4 minutes on the first side so it releases from the pan easily. Flip, and cook on the other side for another 4 minutes or so. Salmon is best served medium-rare to medium (if you like it cooked through, you can place in a 350-degree oven to finish).

Third, remove salmon fillet from pan, and pour about 1/2 cup heavy cream into the pan. Add 1-2 tablespoons of grainy dijon mustard, and gently whisk to mix completely. Cook for 2-3 minutes until the sauce thickens a bit. Add salt to taste, and if you're adding chopped dill (chives or parsley work well, too), do that at the very end. Mix, taste for seasoning, and then  pour the sauce around the salmon fillet and any sides you like. Come spring, this salmon-and-sauce works extremely well with simple seared asparagus, as in the photo above. 

Enjoy, and here's to a tasty, soon-to-arrive SPRING!

RECIPE: Mid-Winter Grain Salad

This has been one loooong winter for the United States, and it's been a freezing, incredibly snowy one for those of us in the Northeast. I've been cooking lots of soups, and will continue to do so, and to enjoy their warming comfort until I can no longer stand to ladle a spoon of hot broth to my lips (a word to Mother Nature: that day is coming soon!) And I love my seasonal winter foods and comfort meals -- stews, roasted meats, root veggies, a nice afternoon tea with accompanying biscuits. But to brighten up my winter repertoire, a seasonal mid-winter grain saladis just the thing to give my palate a much-needed lift.

To start: pick a grain. I chose bulgur wheat here, as it's inexpensive, nutritionally sound, and one of the many bags of grains I had on hand in my pantry. Bulgur wheat has already been parboiled and dried when we purchase it, so technically it doesn't need to be boiled again to be reconstituted. But one excellent trick I've learned over the years, to add flavor and zing to this grain and eventually the dishes in which it ends up, is to cook the bulgur in a juice that will add flavor and color to the grain when it's cooked. Here I use a beet-carrot-green apple-lemon freshly pressed juice to give the wheat character and a bright color, not to mention added nutritional value as the grain absorbs the juice.

A second element that makes this salad soar is its use of various textures. The grain itself is nutty, chewy. Most grains are. I add crunch with a small dice of celery and green apple. Ditto the pomegranate arils. A softness comes from the roasted cubed butternut squash.

The third element is flavor. There's a great interplay between nutty (the grain) and vegetal (celery, parsley), sweet (the squash) and sour (pomegranate, apple). The vinaigrette, which contains rice vinegar as well as lemon juice, brightens everything with an acidic kick. The beauty is that the elements can be substituted and played with, according to what's on hand and what's in season -- and of course, what you like. 

I often add some red onion chopped finely, or shallot. I also sometimes add nuts for additional crunch, like pine nuts or chopped pecans, hazelnuts, almonds, pistachios, or walnuts. And in spring and summer I add seasonal veggies and fruits, swapping out the butternut squash for zucchini or asparagus or cherry tomatoes, the pomegranate for summer berries or stone fruit. Parsley can be substituted by abundant summer basil, and so on. And the vinaigrette can be played with, so instead of rice vinegar, use white balsamic, or raspberry vinegar, or sherry vinegar. Use avocado oil, or try pumpkin seed oil with pumpkin seeds as the nut in the salad. Use your imagination! And enjoy a healthy grain salad, mid-winter or any time. 

MID-WINTER BULGUR WHEAT SALAD

1 cup bulgur wheat

2 1/2 cups beet-carrot-apple-lemon juice

1 butternut squash, peeled and cubed into 1/2-inch dice

1 green apple, chopped into 1/4-inch dice

1/2 cup pomegranate arils

1/2 cup celery, chopped into 1/4-inch dice

1/2 bunch flat-leaf parsley, chopped

1/8 cup rice vinegar

1 TBSP. dijon mustard

2 TBSP. ponzu

1 TSP. lemon juice

1/3 cup extra-virgin olive oil

Salt and pepper to taste

- Preheat an oven to 375 degrees F. Place the diced butternut squash on a baking sheet, sprinkle with salt and drizzle with olive oil, and toss with hands to coat evenly.

- Roast the butternut squash in the oven, tossing occasionally to cook evenly, until browned and starting to caramelize on the outside, about 30-45 minutes depending on the power of your oven. Set aside to cool.

- In a pot, bring the bulgur wheat and juice to a boil and cook covered until fully absorbed, about 8 minutes.Dump in a bowl and set aside to cool.

- Whisk together rice vinegar, dijon, ponzu, lemon juice, and salt and pepper. In a slow stream, add the oil and whisk to emulsify. This is your vinaigrette.

- Once the bulgur and butternut squash cool, mix together in a bowl with the celery, pomegranate, green apple, and parsley. Toss to mix.

- Drizzle the vinaigrette on top and toss again to mix.

*This salad is delicious right away, but as it sits in its dressing, the flavor improves, making it another example of a dish that gets better with age.

SEASONAL INGREDIENT + RECIPE: Puntarelle

In many ways, it's the essence of Italian Food: it's seasonal, it's hyper-local, and it's a great use of a vegetable that may otherwise go unused, uneaten, and unappreciated. Puntarelle.

Its season begins as the cold weather descends upon the center of the Italian peninsula, and puntarelle usually don't last much beyond the winter months. Puntarelle means "little tips" in Italian -- these are the tender bottom ends of a specific variety of cicoria, or chicory. Cicoria is a bitter leafy green usually par-boiled and either served cold with lemon or sauteed in olive oil with garlic and chile pepper. It's ubiquitous in Rome, much like sauteed spinach is in Florence. But in the winter months, roughly November to March, Romans focus on the puntarelle, the stems of the chicory plant which are cleaned of any leaves, sliced lengthwise in thin strips, and soaked in cold water until they curl up. 

You'll see older Roman women and men in the markets of Rome working with great dexterity over a bucket of water, peeling and slicing the puntarelle so that customers can buy them already cleaned and ready to use. Much like the beloved Roman artichokes, puntarelle are a labor-intensive labor of love. 

When making puntarelle, one begins with the dressing: an unctuous vinaigrette flavored with ground anchovies, fresh garlic, lemon, and wine vinegar, with a healthy glug-glug of top quality extra-virgin olive oil and salt and pepper to taste. Then you mix this in with the cleaned puntarelle, and let it sit for 30 minutes or so. And then? Magic. The greens stay crispy, yet they absorb the flavor of the dressing, which you'll want to sop up with bread after you clean your dish of the greens.

It's a very old Roman recipe -- to my mind, probably assimilated into the Roman culinary canon from the city's Jewish community, because of its telltale use of anchovies (Jewish Romans often used {kosher} anchovies where Roman Catholics would use guanciale, or cured pork cheek, as a salty flavor base in a recipe). The cool thing about puntarelle? It's a super-extra-totally Roman vegetable, so even people in nearby areas like Abruzzo, Tuscany, and Le Marche don't get to enjoy the bitter-savory winter contorno

It's really the original Caesar salad, in a way -- and actually from the land of the Caesars. When in Rome? Head to the Campo de' Fiori market where you can purchase the greens and all the ingredients to make the salad at home. Then head to the famous Forno at the top of the piazza for some warm pizza bianca fresh out of the oven, to accompany the dish. 

If you're lucky, the Forno's sandwich shop, right across the tiny vicolo from the bakery, will be serving Pizza con le Puntarelle: a fabulous sandwich of the pizza bianca stuffed with puntarelle salad. Crunchy, chewy, warm, cool, salty, bitter, with the astringent zip of lemon and garlic...it's a heavenly Roman winter sandwich sure to make anyone a very happy campo-er.

When Rome is not your home? Puntarelle are, as noted, extremely local, though I have been lucky enough to stumble upon a special of puntarelle salad one cold winter night in New York, at the authentic and always-excellent Bar Pitti. When I asked the waiter in Italian where he'd managed to find puntarelle, he responded very simply, "eh, signora: dall'Italia. Ovviamente." From Italy. Obviously.

Puntarelle alla Romana

If you're not one of the lucky few who can get his or her hands on the real deal, you can approximate the texture and bitterness of the puntarelle by thinly slicing a mixture of celery and belgian endive lengthwise, then putting those slices in ice water so they curl a bit. Then mix with the dressing as you would the puntarelle. As with Caesar salad fans, you have those who like it heavy on the anchovies, and those who prefer a less fishy flavor. I think there should be a nice balance of flavor -- using the anchovy liberally, but mashed well, will give the dressing its best consistency.

8 oz. washed & dried puntarelle (sliced chicory stems curled in cold water)

1 clove garlic

1 lemon, for juicing

6 TBS. extra-virgin olive oil

1 TBS. red wine vinegar

1-2 anchovy fillets

salt & pepper to taste

- In a salad bowl, rub the garlic clove over the surface of the bowl and then with the tines of a fork, crush it a bit.

- Add the anchovy fillets and crush them with the fork as well.

- Squeeze the lemon juice over the garlic and anchovies, add the vinegar, and muddle the ingredients so they form a paste.

- Using the fork – or even better, a small whisk – add the olive oil in a thin stream until a vinaigrette forms.

- Add salt and pepper to taste, or more oil if necessary. Toss puntarelle in vinaigrette and serve.

RECIPE: Pollo alla Romana...and Giallorosso

Alla Romana means 'Roman style', and there are plenty of food preparations, from pastas to tripe, that are Roman style. It means something different in each iteration, though the most alla Romana of any dish out there, to my mind, is Pollo alla Romana. Why? Because it's giallorosso, of course! This refers to the colors of the dish, yellow (giallo) and red (rosso) -- but it's also a reference to La Roma, or AS Roma, the Eternal City's beloved soccer team. 

Fans of AS Roma are called Romanisti, or giallorossi, after the team's official colors. Technically, there is another team for Rome and the whole region in which Rome is located: Lazio. But to most locals who live in the city, to suggest that they are Laziale is to call them traitors, even fascists. The commonly-held view is that AS Roma is Roman to its core, founded in the popular neighborhood of Testaccio in 1927, and followed by the locals with an amazing dedication and ferocity, despite the fact that they've only won the scudetto (the Italian soccer championship) 3 times in the team's history. I was lucky enough to be privy to one of those wins, June 17th, 2001. 

Hometown hero and world-class player Francesco Totti helped lead his beloved team to victory, and I can honestly say I've never seen quite a celebration of a sports victory in any city, ever. (Yes, I've seen the Yankees win the World Series in New York, the Giants win the Superbowl. I was even in Rome when Italy won the World Cup in 2006 -- the only time I saw a celebration comparable to Roma winning the '01 scudetto).

The fact that one of my all-time favorite players, Argentina's Batistuta (mmm...Bat-i-stu-ta), led ROMA to victory alongside Totti, made it that much sweeter! Red and yellow flags and confetti were everywhere, car horns honked nonstop, literally for days on end. The bars stayed open into the wee hours that night. The following week, Rome hosted a huge concert at the Circo Massimo in honor of their home team's glorious win, where an estimated 1 million fans came to celebrate the victorious team. People were hanging from the ruins of the Palatine Hill to get a view! I remember it like it was yesterday: Antonello Venditti sang what's considered the soccer team's anthem, "Grazie Roma" with Italian beauty Sabrina Ferilli parading on stage (she'd promised to strut naked in Circo Massimo if Roma won -- which didn't happen, though she is wearing next to nothing!). 

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ONS62x6XBSY&feature=related

...It was the kind of celebration, grande festa,that happens once in a lifetime. Forza giallorossi!...

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mXVFbVtkopg

I've always say that Italians are fiercely loyal to 3 things: town, team, and table (in no particular order). With AS Roma, town and team go hand-in-hand.

Pollo alla Romana, a gorgeous stew of chicken with red and yellow peppers, tomatoes, onions, and a bit of peperoncino and vinegar for kick, is the perfect representation of table, of i romani sul piatto (Romans on a plate): colorful, bold, a bit spicy, a bit acido. Not timid. But also comforting. And with late summer lingering, the peppers in this dish are still very much at their peak. Try to find a free-range chicken raised without antibiotics, to approximate what the best Roman home cooks would use (possibly even from their own land outside the Roman city walls).

Enjoy, and forza Roma!

Pollo alla Romana

Serves 2-4

1 whole chicken, cut into pieces

4 peppers, red & yellow, sliced into 2-inch-long, ½-inch-wide slices

2 small onions, sliced thinly into half-moons

4 fresh plum tomatoes, or a small can of whole peeled San Marzanos, chopped

1 clove garlic

¾ cup white wine

½ cup chicken broth (optional)

¼ cup red wine vinegar

Extra-virgin olive oil

Salt & pepper to taste

Sprig of rosemary (optional)

Peperoncino (flakes are fine), a healthy pinch

- Wash the chicken and dry thoroughly, leaving it out to reach room temp (this allows it to crisp better).

- In a heavy-bottomed sauté pan or skillet, heat enough olive oil to cover the bottom of the pan. After 30 seconds, add the garlic clove and cook until fragrant and starting to brown.

- Sprinkle the chicken pieces with salt & pepper just before they go into the pan. Brown them on both sides, and remove from pan when browned. Work in batches if you need to so as not to crowd the pan.

- Add a bit more olive oil to the pan and sauté the onion and the peppers until they begin to soften, about 5 minutes.

- Add the white wine and vinegar to “deglaze” the pan, scraping up all the browned bits from the chicken that were stuck to the bottom. Cook another 2-3 minutes.

- Add the tomatoes, breaking them up, stirring. Add a sprinkle of salt and cook for another 5-7minutes.

- Add the chicken to the pan, plus rosemary and/or peperoncino if desired, and cover and cook for 10 minutes.

- Lift the cover and stir the chicken in with the peppers and onions so it’s no longer sitting on top of them. Cook another 30 minutes, checking occasionally, and adding some chicken broth or water if it gets too dry. Salt to taste. When done cooking, remove cover and serve immediately…although this dish is great heated up the next day after the flavors have had 24 hours to “meld” together.

RECIPE: Sano e Semplice, Fish Fillet

So many people I speak with -- clients, students, friends -- tell me they're afraid of cooking fish. Everyone seems to think that because a fillet of white fish is relatively delicate, it's a complicated task to prepare. Not so. A white, flaky fish fillet (and not canned tuna!) is, to my mind, the chicken of the sea: everybody likes it, and you can almost always find some variety of white fish where you purchase fresh seafood, filleted and ready to be cooked and eaten. The local catch varies from place to place, of course, and in many cultures, fish is usually sold whole. This is not to save the fishmonger the work of filleting the fish, but more for the discerning customer who wants to judge the freshness of the fish by checking to see that its eyes are clear, and that the fish's gills are a rosy red. But in the U.S., whole fish can be hard to come by. Seafood shops resemble sushi counters, with a variety of already-filleted specimens arranged on ice for the customer to select. Here, since you can't look the fish in the eyes, it becomes important that you trust that your fishmonger is getting in a constant supply of fresh fish.

But regardless of where you are on the globe, how you buy your fish, or what your local catch may be, you can always whip up a healthy, fresh fish meal in about 30 minutes. Recently, I found a gorgeous fillet of locally-caught wild blackfish. I wanted a light, healthy meal for a warm September evening. I often plan my plates using color as a guide -- a surefire way to pair foods containing a variety of vitamins and minerals -- so here I accompanied the fish fillet with diced oven roasted sweet potato and fresh snap peas. The result is a dinner plate filled with a riot of eye-catching color, and great flavor. Since it's easy to prepare a pan sauce after cooking the fillet, I decided to make use of a fresh lime and some sauvignon blanc I had on hand.

This recipe is for one; it can easily be multiplied for any number of guests you may have.

You'll need:

*Fillet of white flaky fish: any fresh catch will do, from sea bass to snapper to flounder and anything in between. 6-8 ounces per serving.

*Sweet potato or yam

*Handful of snap peas

*1 lime or lemon

*1/4 cup crisp white wine

*dash of white balsamic or rice wine vinegar

*good quality olive oil

*pat of butter

*salt and pepper

*Sriracha sauce (if you like a bit of a kick)

- Preheat an oven to 350 degrees farenheit/175 celsius. Scrub a sweet potato or yam clean under running water. I left the skin on. You can peel it if you like. Cut the potato into 1/2 inch dice, sprinke with salt and pepper, and toss with a dash of good quality olive oil. Arrange on a baking sheet and bake, tossing occasionally, for about 30 minutes, until the pieces are cooked through and lightly browned.

- In the meantime, bring a small pot of water to boil. Clean the snap peas (a handful per person) by pulling off the stringy membrane on the flat side of the pod. When the water is boiling, add a healthy pinch of salt. Toss the snap peas into the water and cook for 2-3 minutes. Drain the snap peas and dump them immediately into ice water to stop the cooking. Once completely cooled, drain.

- Heat a nonstick saute pan over medium-high heat. Drizzle a glug of good quality olive oil in the pan. Heat until it shimmers a bit and tilt the pan so the whole surface is covered in the oil. Sprinkle the dry surface of the fish fillet with salt and pepper, and place skin side up in the pan. Do not touch the fillet for at least 3 minutes. This is important: when cooking delicate white fish, patience is a virtue!

Sprinkle the skin side with salt and pepper, and shake the pan a bit -- when the first side is done cooking, the fillet should shake free from the surface of the pan. With a fish spatula, gently flip the fillet. Turn the heat down to medium. Continue cooking another 3 minutes until the fish is cooked through. Remove from pan and put on a plate.

- With the flame still on, cut a lime or lemon in half and squeeze the juice directly into the pan. Add 1/4 cup crisp white wine (per serving), and a dash of white balsamic vinegar. Turn the heat up to high and reduce the liquid by 2/3. When it's been reduced, turn the heat down to medium-low. add a pinch of salt and a tablespoon or two of butter, gently swirling the pan to melt but the butter, but don't allow the sauce to bubble.

- In the meantime, take the potatoes from the oven, and serve as is or toss with a squirt of Sriracha sauce (sweet potatoes are a great foil for a piquant sauce and can stand up to the heat). Plate the potatoes and place the fish fillet on top. 

- If the sauce is a little thick, add a touch of warm water to the pan and swirl to blend. Taste and adjust for salt. Drizzle the sauce over and around the fish fillet.

- Turn the heat up on the pan, toss the snap peas in, and warm through. This will also coat the peas with the remaining pan sauce. When they're warm, put the snap peas on the plate alongside the fish and potatoes.

- Serve immediately...and pour yourself a glass of that crisp white wine. Enjoy!

RECIPE: Easy Meal of Spring Chicken

There are countless ways to cook a chicken. Some preparations are boring and plain, some are complex and interesting, others still are homey and comforting. It's always good to have the last kind in your cooking arsenal: an 'old reliable' that gets the job done every time, whether it's making an easy meal for yourself with limited time and budget, or cooking a tasty and uncomplicated meal for friends or family.

In the name of having a simple, reliable method for cooking a roast chicken -- and sides as well -- I've developed a really simple update on roast chicken with potatoes and a green veggie. Here's the idea:

- For one chicken, mix together a few tablespoons of whole grain mustard with a few tablespoons of good quality olive oil.

-Add some chopped fresh herbs. For this version I used chives and a little rosemary, just a tablespoon or two.

- Add the zest and juice of a citrus fruit (here I actually used kaffir lime, which adds a dimension of flavor and complexity to the dish. These limes can be hard to find. Lemon is fine. Something more interesting -- blood orange, meyer lemon, etc. -- is even better).

- Add a shake of salt and pepper, and mix. This becomes your FLAVOR PASTE for the chicken.

- Once the chicken is rinsed and dried thoroughly, spread the flavor paste over the skin of the bird and under the skin, in the pockets between the breasts and the outer skin. Leave a little to spread on later when you turn the bird.

- Clean and dice a couple of potatoes, and toss in a little olive oil and salt.

- Line a sheet pan with parchment paper or foil. Spread the potatoes in a layer on the pan. Place the chicken, breast side down, on top of the potatoes.

- Roast in a preheated oven at 350 degrees for 20 minutes. In the meantime, bring a pot of water to a boil, generously salt the water, and cook your green veg for a couple of minutes until it's just barely tender. Remove from the pot and place immediately in ice water to stop the cooking.

- After 20 minutes, pull the tray out of the oven and turn the chicken over, so it's breast side up. Spread a little more of the flavor paste on the top of the chicken. Toss the potatoes in the pan juices. Add the green veg (here I've used broccoletti) to the pan as well, with a sprinkling of salt. Turn the oven up to 375 and return pan to oven for 20 minutes or so, until the top of the chicken is nicely browned and the potatoes are golden and cooked through.

- Carve and enjoy!

SEASONAL INGREDIENT + RECIPE: Artichoke: The Prickly Sign of Primavera

artichoke.jpg

Few vegetables say spring like the artichoke. For me, in Rome, it was always the ultimate sign of la primavera, especially where I lived in the Jewish ghetto, which is known for its numerous restaurants specializing in the deep-fried "Jewish style" artichokes in-season. In the U.S., California provides almost 100 percent of the nation’s artichoke crop. Castroville, in Monterey County, calls itself “The Artichoke Center of the World,” and is host to an annual festival held since 1959, which celebrates the perennial thistle. Still, fifty years seems like a drop in the bucket, when we consider the fact that artichokes have been consumed in the Mediterranean region since the sixth century B.C.

From There to Here: A Brief History of the Thistle

Cynara cardunculus, the globe artichoke, is thought to have originated in Northern Africa. Its name comes from the Arabic al-kharshuf or ardi-shoky, meaning “ground-thorny,” which became carciofo (car-CHO-foe) in Italian. A relative of the cardoon, the artichoke was cultivated in Sicily during the Greek occupation, as early as 500 B.C., and eventually made its way to mainland Italy.

It reached Naples in the 9th century, and was supposedly brought north to Florence in the 1460’s by Filippo Strozzi, a wealthy Florentine banker who’d been exiled to Naples by the Medici family. From here, it traveled further north to Venice and then into southern France, reaching Avignon by about 1532. The artichoke spread throughout Europe to eventually flower in Henry VIII’s gardens in the 1540’s, though it had probably always been a staple in the Southern Mediterranean regions historically touched by Greek, and later Arab, influence: Spain, Portugal, Italy, Greece, and Southern France.

It was the French who first introduced the artichoke to 19th century Louisiana, and therefore to the American table, though Spanish immigrants are the ones credited with bringing the vegetable to California, where it’s flourished ever since.

When In Rome…

It’s the Roman artichoke, the carciofo romanesco, the Cynara scolymus: a gorgeous, deep purple-and-green globe. Synonymous with the celebrated Roman Spring, it's perfectly paired with Easter specialties like baby lamb, fava beans, asparagus, and spring peas. Anyone who has ever tried an artichoke in The Eternal City knows that there may be no better place on earth to eat one. It is the single most popular vegetable in Rome, and has become the city's culinary symbol.

The two most common local artichoke preparations are alla romana – Roman-style, slow braised in oil and wine with wild Roman mint and pecorino cheese, and alla giudea – Jewish-style, deep-fried twice so the crispy outer petals open up but the heart remains tender within. Unlike botanically similar varieties found elsewhere, the romanesco artichoke is eaten young, before it gets woody. This allows a greater portion of the flower to be edible, though local cooks generally pare down the leaves quite a bit. Romans tend to go straight for the tender heart.

Cooking with Carciofi 

Romans believe artichokes reduce cholesterol, cleanse the liver…and are an aphrodisiac to boot. Whatever their benefits may be, nutritional or otherwise, artichokes are labor-intensive but well worth the work.

A trip to any Roman market in the spring months will reveal numerous carciofare, or artichoke trimmers, in quick action with gloved hands, a sharp knife, and a container of water with cut lemons floating in it: the acidulated water keeps the chlorophyll oxidation to a minimum, so the artichokes remain green and beautiful. Look for artichokes that are heavy for their size, with tightly-packed leaves.

CARCIOFI ALLA ROMANA

4 artichokes

2 lemons

2 cloves garlic, minced

4 TBS. Chopped fresh flat leaf parsley

4 TBS. Chopped fresh mint or mentuccia

½ cup Pecorino Romano cheese, grated

1 cup dry white wine

2 TBS. Minced olive oil-packed anchovy fillets (optional)

salt & pepper to taste

extra-virgin olive oil, as needed (about 1-2 cups)

-Fill a large bowl with water and squeeze the juice of one of the lemons into it.

-Trim artichoke stems, cut the top of the artichoke bulb off, and peel the outer leaves of the artichoke.

-Carefully scoop out the choke with a melon baller or paring knife.

-As each artichoke is trimmed, put it into the acidulated water.

-In a small bowl, combine the garlic, parsley, mint, bread crumbs, and anchovies, if using. Season with salt & pepper.

-Pat dry the artichokes, stuff the stuffing mixture into the cavity left by the choke and between the leaves. Close leaves over filling.

- Place artichokes stem-up in a baking dish and add 1 part olive oil to 1 part white wine to 2 parts water, to almost cover artichoke bulb.

- Cover and cook until tender when tested with a toothpick/skewer, about 45 minutes to an hour (either in oven or on the stovetop).

- Can be served warm or eaten at room temperature, kept in the braising liquid. Serve with lemon wedges.

RECIPE: Zuppa di Cavolo Verde con i Ceci e Pomodori

I've always considered March to be an unpleasant month. In the northeastern U.S., and particularly in New York City, it's still pretty much winter. It could rain or sleet, we could get bombarded by a blizzard, or we could wake up to a lovely, short-lived spring morning. But mostly, it's gray and cold. Tonight, it's chilly and rainy and windy, and it's Sunday. It's a perfect evening for a warming, and healthy, bowl of homemade soup. Italian-style, ovviamente.

This soup is something I made with 3 things in mind:

1. I wanted the soup to be a meal-in-a-bowl, and healthy.

2. I wanted to use the organic kale I'd bought at the market, which I purchased also in the interest of healthy eating.

3. I wanted to utilize pantry staples so the soup could be easily reproduced and made on a budget of very little -- and when you don't feel like braving the weather outside.

So, here you have it. Of course, it's even better if you soak and cook your own chickpeas, and if you have fresh tomatoes in season. But since it's March, and I'm a realist, I'll pick my battles and encourage you only to make your own stock. It's easy, it's inexpensive, and it makes your kitchen -- your whole apartment or house, really -- smell like home. 

Zuppa di Cavolo Verde con i Ceci e Pomodori

1 small onion, finely chopped

4 stalks of celery, finely diced

4 carrots, peeled and finely diced

2 TBSP. extra-virgin olive oil

1/4 cup dry white wine

10 cups chicken or vegetable stock (homemade is best)

1 small can (14 oz.) chopped San Marzano tomatoes

1/2 teaspoon dried chili flakes

1 small can (14 oz.) chickpeas, drained from liquid and rinsed under water

1 head of kale (cavolo verde), or Tuscan cavolo nero if available, washed and dried

salt & pepper, to taste

- In a large soup pot, heat the olive oil until warm, and then add the onion, celery, and carrot. Saute on medium-low until onions are translucent, about 5 minutes.

- Add the white wine to the vegetables, and turn the heat up to medium until most of the liquid is cooked off.

- Add the stock and cover until it comes to a boil.

- Add the tomatoes and chili flakes, cover, and cook for approximately 10 minutes.

- Add the chickpeas, lower the heat to medium-low, cover, and continue cooking.

- With a sharp knife, cut the base of the head of kale off, remove any thick veins, and then slice through the leaves, horizontally, cutting the kale into strips about 1/4 inch wide, so the kale leaves become a sort of "confetti."

- Add the kale to the soup (the leaves will wilt). Stir, and continue to cook for another 15 minutes, allowing flavors to blend. Taste for seasoning, and add salt and pepper to taste.

* This soup, like most soups, is best served the day after it's made, allowing the flavors to develop and blend overnight.

RECIPE: LA GRANDE MELA: Apples, The Big Apple, and Apple Crumb

Autumn and apples: for me, they go hand-in-hand. The anticipation of heading to the green market in the fall is terrific: poring over the myriad apple varieties, sipping warm apple cider while I stroll along, crisp and colorful fallen leaves under foot. If I can find a good caramel apple, then I'm a sucker for it -- I'm hard-pressed to pass up a chewy, crunchy autumnal treat. And I love an excursion outside of the city for some apple picking, too. When time allows, this is a great fall weekend pastime we in the northeast are lucky enough to enjoy.

And believe me, I don't take this for granted. All the years I lived in Italy, fall had some wonderful food connotations for me: wine harvests, polenta festivals in Umbria...sausages and lentils and pumpkin ravioli. But in Italy, well, they just don't do apples (mele) like here on the east coast of the U.S. And where better than the Empire State, the city known around the world as The Big Apple ("La Grande Mela" in Italian), to revel in autumnal apple-y goodness?

I recently had friends here visiting from Rome, and we happened upon the Union Square greenmarket around lunchtime on a sunny, brisk early November afternoon. They'd had a few minutes to wander through the market before meeting me, and they said, "Dana, we'd forgotten what a real apple tastes like!" They were amazed at the variety of apples, the colors, shapes and sizes, and how some were sweet and fragrant and others were crisp and tart. It was as if they'd tasted an apple for the first time. They bought several varieties to take back with them on the international flight, because as they exclaimed, "you can't find apples like these in Italy!" I reminded them that they were in The Big Apple, after all -- and it all made sense to them. A very funny moment.

Of course, I stocked up on apples as well. My beloved varieties for various uses, from eating out-of-hand to baking in desserts, include Cortland, Braeburn, Rome (named for the town in New York state, not Italy!), Macoun, Honeycrisp, and Staymen Winesap. A love of good apples was ingrained in me from childhood by my father, who considers himself to be a shrewd apple expert. To him, the granddaddy of all varieties is the Ida Red. He carts bags and bags of them from the northeast down to south Florida when he heads down each November, since they're not readily available outside of their local growing area. So yes, I had to get some Ida Reds as well. Some apple cider, too. Maybe some hard cider, good for drinking as well as making sauces for pork dishes. Is apple overload possible? I'm testing the limits!

So, how will I consume all of these apples? Some, I eat with a fresh local Camembert-style cheese called "Bianca" from Hawthorne Valley Farm in Ghent, NY (another greenmarket purchase) -- the cheese slightly melted, the apples sliced, smeared with a little Tuscan millefiore honey on some crusty bread. Others, I'll slice and dip in some homemade salted caramel sauce, a sophisticated version of the street fair favorite. Some apples I toss with caramelized onions and kale, and sprinkle with cider vinegar and a little brown sugar in the pan for a great seasonal side dish to a meat main course.

And then there's my favorite apple dessert. It would seem un-American to diss the staple apple pie. And I do love a good one. But even better, to my taste buds -- and just as American, in the tradition of crumbles, brown betties, slumps, and cobblers -- is the APPLE CRUMBLE. It's simple. It doesn't need a crust. It bakes in about 30-45 minutes and can be eaten warm: no waiting! Perfection.

APPLE CRUMB

(Serves 4)

6 apples, peeled, cored, and cut into slices (about 10 per apple)

8 oz. plus 2 TBS. AP flour

3 oz. granulated sugar

2 oz. brown sugar 

1 tsp. cinnamon

1 tsp. salt

4 oz. (1 stick) + 1 TBS. butter, softened to room temp

- Butter individual ramekins or medium, shallow baking dish 

- Toss the apples in a bowl with the cinnamon, 2 TBSP. sugar and 1 TBSP. flour, to coat.

- Distribute apples in even layers in baking vessels.

- Mix softened butter, flour, salt, and sugars until a dough is formed (cookie dough-like in consistency).

- Drop dough on top of apples and bake in 375 degree oven until golden brown and crispy on top, 30-45 minutes. 

- Allow to cool enough so you won't burn your tongue devouring the crumble!

* Great with fresh whipped cream or vanilla ice cream

RECIPE: Panzanella

Panzanella, light lunch of my summer, taste party in my mouth. My snack, my side dish, my soul. Pan-za-nel-la: the tongue plays along the palate down to the denti. Yummy, yummy, yumminess...Pan.Za.Nel.La.

OK, so maybe I'm going overboard here, but if you've ever had a great panzanella in the heat of the summer, you'd know my Nabokovian rant is warranted. This stuff is delicious. In yet another ingenious use of old bread, the Tuscans devised this refreshing salad with cubed bread, tomatoes, cucumbers, red onions, celery, and a generous glug-glug of bold, fruity olive oil and red wine vinegar. Salt and pepper, obviously. Those are the basics; the rest are just additional trappings. Fennel, which I add to my version because it's refreshing raw, is such a Tuscan staple that it seems a natural fit -- and this is how I learned to make the salad so many years ago in Firenze. Some people add chopped peppers, artichokes, or olives. I think these weigh down the light-tasting dish -- but to each her own.

You can grill the bread before cubing it, for added smoky flavor. Using local, candy-sweet cherry or grape tomatoes is much advised at the height of the summer (toss in some golden ones for eye appeal). And note that there are variations on the bread consistency in the salad, from slightly crispy cubes, to water/oil/vinegar-soaked bread that functions as a binding "mush" to the vegetables in the dish. No one version is more correct, just a matter of personal taste. The one constant in the original version, however, is that the bread used is unsalted Tuscan country bread. Yes, that infamous, flavorless Tuscan pane --  so perfect for the region's crostini with salty toppings, so wonderful in its bread soups, so flavorless on its own that perhaps no other region in the world can boast so many untouched restaurant bread baskets. And yes, these taste-deficient baked orbs are so sponge-like, they also doubled as Renaissance instruments with which Tuscan frescoes were cleaned! So, while we must mention the authentic bread used in panzanella, we certainly encourage the use of a more flavorful bread base in this particular recipe.

This is wonderful as a lunch on its own, perhaps with some great quality, olive oil-packed tuna flaked into it. It's also a perfect side dish for another of the region's specialties: grilled bistecca alla fiorentina -- or any meat seared on the grill. With a slightly chilled glass of red wine, or a rosato? What a great summer meal for the weekend!

Panzanella

Serves 4-6

1 loaf of good country bread, cut up into 1 or 2-inch dice (stale or toasted or grilled)

1 lb. cherry tomatoes (cut in half) or vine-ripened tomatoes (large dice)

3-4 stalks celery, cut into large dice

1 fennel bulb, cleaned and cut into thin slices

1 red onion, cut into thin slices and rinsed under cold water

3-4 cucumbers, peeled and cut into large dice

Fresh basil, torn into small pieces

1/3 cup good extra-virgin olive oil (preferably Tuscan)

1/4 cup red wine vinegar

Salt & pepper to taste

- Mix the bread with all of the vegetables and herbs.

- Add salt and pepper to taste.

- Add olive oil and vinegar to make a nicely-dressed salad with enough moisture to soften the bread a bit. Let sit for 30 minutes, then taste and adjust seasoning/dressing. Serve at room temperature.

Pesce d'Aprile!

Yes, it's April 1st everyone: known in America as April Fool's Day, and in Italy, bizarrely, as Pesce d'Aprile, translated as "April Fish." All over the Italian peninsula today, giggling school children are sticking colorful paper cut-outs of fish on unsuspecting schoolmates' backs (hilaaaaarious, I know). Of course these pranks aren't limited strictly to fish, or to schoolchildren. But today in New York, the sun is finally shining and it's 63 degrees out. So I don't really care about pranks right now. I want to take in the sunlight and the temperate weather.

So, at the risk of seeming like a humorless twit, I'm going to skip the practical jokes and concentrate on the pesce part of the Pesce d'Aprilefish. When I think of spring warmth and sunshine, I think of Sicily. And lemons. My first trip to Sicily was in the month of April, and it was a glorious week with some of the most amazing Italian food I'd ever tasted (authentic Sicilian is still perhaps my favorite regional Italian cuisine). The recipe below highlights the island's wonderful citrus, in a dish of Fish with Salmoriglio -- a light, lemony, herby sauce shot through with plenty of garlic that's a perfect foil to meaty or oily fish. Pesce spada (swordfish) or mackerel would be the most likely fish varieties used in Sicilia. I like to use the large bunches of dried oregano that come from Sicily and Calabria as the main herb in the sauce, though adding a bit of parsley and rosemary work to give the sauce some extra green notes, both in flavor and color.

Salmoriglio is best with white, flaky fish or steak fish, I think, but also works with shellfish and grilled meats. Whatever you pair it with, it imparts a bit of sunshine to the dish --  a bit of agrumi (citrus). Very Sicilian. And much better than that other Sicilian notion involving fish, particularly popular in Corleone: sleeping with the fishes. Buon Pesce d'Aprile! And buon appetito! 

PESCE CON SALMORIGLIO

(4 servings)

4 1-inch thick slices or fillets of whitefish (about 1½ pounds), cleaned

1/2 cup good quality extra-virgin olive oil (preferably Sicilian

2 lemons

1 clove garlic, peeled and chopped finely

Pinch of oregano, or a mix of fresh herbs (oregano, parsley, basil, rosemary, thyme)

Salt & pepper to taste

- In a small bowl, zest one of the lemons (careful not to include the white pith), and juice both lemons. Stir together with garlic. Slowly add 1/3 cup olive oil in a stream to make a sort of citronette. Add salt and pepper to taste. Set aside. (If you want the garlic taste to be mellowed, heat this mixture in a pan and warm for 5 minutes to cook the garlic a bit).

- Warm a couple of tablespoons of the olive oil in a large sauté pan over medum heat. Sprinkle the fish with salt just before placing it in the sauté pan. Sauté until golden brown. Flip and proceed the same way on the second side.

- In the meantime, chop the herbs finely. Add to the lemon-garlic-oil mixture. Adjust seasoning as needed.

- Transfer fish to a platter, drizzle with the salmoriglio sauce, and serve warm or at room temperature.

MELANZANA

MELANZANA

The blank page. Or worse, the blank blog. What does one write when one can write anything she wishes (within reason)? It will have something to do with food, of course. Preferably good food. Preferably Italian, because that's like home to me -- 

come tornare a casa

, as they say. And what do I love, really love, as much as, say, chocolate? The answer is simple: eggplant.

Not what you expected? I know, I know. People seem to love it or hate it. I fall with a loud thud into the first category. I think eggplant is a glorious food: a berry as it so happens, a member of the nightshade family, and a great canvas for a tremendous range of flavorful "paint," if you will. My dedication to the eggplant is evident in my use of its french-anglo name as my company's moniker ("aubergine"). And my love of cooking with and eating of the eggplant is evident to all who know me ("What kind of eggplant dish are you preparing tonight?" many friends and relatives have asked me, tongues planted firmly in cheeks). So it's true. Sometimes I go overboard with the eggplant. The Italians call it

melanzana

-- derived from

mela insana

, or "crazy apple," which was the effect early Italians were sure it had on those who consumed it. So, call me crazy for the eggplant. I am still trying to successfully marry my two favorite foods: eggplant and chocolate. In the meantime, while I'm working on that alchemical miracle, here's a recipe for a very simple, but wonderful, Italian sauteed eggplant dish.

The sliced melanzana can be eat

en as is, or used as a base for an eggplant parm; a stacked millefoglie with sliced mozzarella, tomato, and basil; or in involtini, stuffed with fresh ricotta and a basil chiffonade and rolled -- a great little appetizer with some chilled white wine. Like I said, a great canvas...

MELANZANE IN PADELLA

(2-4 people)

1-2 Medium-sized eggplants

Salt

Extra-virgin olive oil

1-2 cloves garlic

Parsley, chopped, to taste

(red pepper flakes optional)

(red wine vinegar, optional)

-Slice eggplants across into rounds about 1/8-inch thick.

-Layer in colander in sink and generously salt each layer. Leave to drain for an hour or so.

-Pat dry eggplant slices.

-Heat olive oil to cover bottom of a saute pan over medium heat. Add whole garlic clove and cook, swirling clove around in oil, for 1 minute. Remove.

-Add 1 layer of eggplant slices and cook, turning once, until nicely browned around edges.

-Remove from pan and drain on paper towels. Continue with remaining eggplant slices, adding oil to pan when necessary.

-When all eggplant is cooked, layer in a dish, sprinkle with salt to taste, parsley, and red pepper flakes if you like. Sprinkle with red wine vinegar if desired.