Omelette ux fines herbes
breakfast/brunch, fall, french cuisine, summer, vegetarian

Using Up Herb Plants: Omelette aux Fines Herbes (with basic recipe)

Omelette ux fines herbes
High cuisine, not a simple attempt to use things up before going out of town for Thanksgiving

            Every fall, I bring my potted herb plants in from outside to enjoy using them for a bit longer. It works well enough for a while, but eventually they start to suffer from the limited sunshine. Since most of them are annuals, the time comes to use up what I can before starting again when summer returns. Everything except the rosemary is either done or fading. To use up as much as possible, I made a French classic, omelette aux fines herbes.

            Fines herbes is a mix of parsley, chives, tarragon, and chervil, common in French cuisine. The first three are widely available in the US, but chervil might require a specialty spice store or the internet. Supposedly it tastes like a milder parsley with a bit of a licorice undertone, but I couldn’t taste much difference. To compensate for all the herbs except parsley being dried, I also added some minced scallions to brighten things up.

            For many French chefs, making a perfect omelet is one of the primary tests of skill. After following the basic directions on pages 107 – 108 of 1000 Foods to Eat Before You Die, mine turned out pretty well. The flavor is distinctly understated, but the freshness from the herbs was nice as fall turns to winter. The slight licorice flavor from either the tarragon or chervil is definitely there. Perhaps it just needs a little heat to release its flavor. Chefs disagree on how much browning, if any, is ideal. Personally, I like more browning, both for flavor and the fact that it helps the egg unstick itself from the pan.

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            For each omelet, I used three eggs, beaten together with salt, pepper, and a tablespoon of milk. The herb mix contained three large parsley sprigs, minced, one minced scallion, and a teaspoon each dried chives, tarragon, and chervil. Half of the herb mixture gets added into the eggs before cooking. After melting about a tablespoon butter in a skillet over medium heat, the egg mixture is added to cook.

            To make sure that none of the eggs end up runny, I like to tilt the pan and lift up the edges of the cooked portion, letting the uncooked egg flow underneath. After this, sprinkle the remaining herb mixture over the surface. When the top is almost set, fold the right and left thirds of the omelet over onto the center. If this doesn’t work and you end up with a half-moon shaped omelet, don’t worry about it, it will still taste good. Let the omelet cook for another minute, covering the pan if desired to help it set, then slide it onto a plate.

            To make this simple mix of eggs and herbs sound extra fancy, serve with pommes de terre frits, compote de pomme, fruits frais, café au lait, or any combination thereof. In English, these are fried potatoes, applesauce, fresh fruit, and coffee with milk. To make anything sound fancy, say it in French, even if you have to use a translation app.

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Aubergine en caton
appetizers, french cuisine, recipes, summer, vegetarian

French Baba Ghanoush: Aubergine en Caton

Aubergine en caton

            By European standards, France is a large country. As with any nation with varied terrain and climate, it has a number of regional specialties. There are the dairy-heavy cuisines of Normandy and Brittany, Germanic-inspired dishes of Alsace in the northeast, and wine-based sauces and stews from the wine-growing regions of Burgundy and Bordeaux. And in the south, along the Mediterranean, is Provence, where many dishes resemble those from neighboring Liguria in Italy.

            Provence is one of the few French regions where olive trees can produce fruit. The oil is ubiquitous, including in a sauce for roasted eggplant. Other Mediterranean flavors come from lemon juice, capers, and a bit of anchovy. Before you get grossed out, it’s just a small amount of paste used as a flavor booster, not enough to make it taste “fishy.” All these other flavors, which are rather strong on their own, plus garlic and plenty of fresh parsley, balance it out.

            Aubergine is the French word for eggplant. Here it is cooked and pureed just like in baba ghanoush, except in the oven instead of over a wood fire, producing a lighter color and mild, slightly sweet flavor. Rather than mixed into the puree, the sauce is served over the top, for a greater contrast.

            As Mimi Sheraton suggested in 1000 Foods to Eat Before You Die on page 54, a simple description is sufficient to compose a recipe, at least for the sauce. It was the eggplant itself that gave me trouble. When cooking whole, which is necessary to keep the pulp a greenish color instead of browning, it takes a surprisingly long time to soften. At 400 degrees Fahrenheit (or just under 205 degrees Celsius), it took nearly an hour. Since it was a cool day that was fine, but on a hot summer day that would never be an option. Plus, using the oven for that long for one fairly small item doesn’t seem energy efficient.

            I considered ways to “pre-cook” the eggplant before finishing it off in the oven. After poking holes all over (to release steam and avoid an explosion), boiling or steaming would probably introduce too much water. But what about the microwave? They work by making water molecules move faster, creating friction and raising the temperature. And since the rays pass through the food, the center warms up much faster than with other cooking methods.

            For a vegetable like eggplant, which has a high water content, this worked like a charm. To avoid an explosion and mess, I poked the holes all the way through with the pointy end of a meat thermometer, giving plenty of openings for steam to escape. Just heat on a microwave safe plate, turn every two minutes, and be careful when handling. The eggplant steams inside the skin, creating the perfect silky texture with just the right amount of moisture.

            As it turned out, the oven wasn’t even required, making this interesting dish perfect for a hot day. When the eggplant is cool enough to handle, just cut in half, scoop out the pulp, puree it, and serve warm or at room temperature with the sauce. Accompany with bread, crackers, or crunchy vegetables.

            The sauce recipe is easy to double and can be kept in the refrigerator for several days. Don’t worry if the oil solidifies; it will turn liquid again as it warms up. This is common for vinaigrette-type dressings and sauces. Just get them out of the fridge half an hour to an hour or so before using, and they’ll be fine.

Ingredients:

  • 1 large eggplant, about 2 pounds
  • 3 tablespoons olive oil
  • Juice from ½ lemon
  • 1 clove garlic, minced
  • 2 tablespoons capers, minced
  • ¼ teaspoon anchovy paste
  • ½ bunch parsley, minced
  • Salt to taste

Directions:

  1. Combine all ingredients except eggplant, parsley, and salt in a bowl and whisk to dissolve anchovy paste and combine.
  2. Whisk in the parsley and taste for salt. The anchovy paste and capers are both salty, so you might not need it.
  3. Set sauce aside at room temperature, or refrigerate overnight. Bring to room temperature before serving.
  4. Poke holes all over the eggplant, all the way through. Place on a microwave-safe plate and cover with a paper towel. Microwave on high for 8 to 10 minutes, turning every 2 minutes, until a skewer slides easily into the flesh. Let rest until cool enough to handle.
  5. Cut eggplant in half and scoop flesh into bowl of a food processor. Process until smooth.
  6. Scoop eggplant puree onto a plate, spoon sauce over, and serve with bread, raw vegetables, and/or crackers.

            For more recipes and food history, sent right to your inbox, please like, subscribe, and/or share.

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Poached chicken sandwich
american cuisine, lunch, sandwiches, summer

Poached Chicken Sandwich: An Interesting Change of Pace

Poached chicken sandwich

            Not all of the foods in 1000 Foods to Eat Before You Die are complicated. A basic chicken sandwich (description on pages 543 – 544) is quite simple and easy to make. All you need are roasted or poached chicken breast, good-quality bread, butter, and maybe some greens. It isn’t particularly exciting, but it does make a great lunch and is a nice change of pace from lunch meat and peanut butter. The only trick is making sure the chicken is tender.

            At a recent cooking demonstration, I learned a new trick for poaching chicken. For a whole chicken, you just boil in enough water to cover for fifteen minutes, turn off the heat, and let the pot sit, covered, for three hours. During that time, the residual heat will cook the meat all the way through without making it tough. Chicken pieces only need to be boiled for five minutes. To be on the safe side, I did ten.

            To poach about 3 pounds of chicken pieces (I did half boneless skinless breasts and half boneless skinless thighs), place them in a large pot with half a teaspoon salt. Add enough water to cover, about 6 to 8 cups. Bring to a soft boil, boil for 10 minutes, then turn off the heat and cover the pot. Let stand for 3 hours. Then the chicken is ready to enjoy, hot or cold. Save the broth for another use (like risotto).

            For each sandwich, spread two slices of bakery white or whole grain bread with softened butter. Add chicken, either sliced across the grain or pulled into chunks (slicing only seems to work well for the chicken breasts). If desired, add a sprinkle of sea or kosher salt, and/or some greens. Arugula has a nice peppery flavor. Then enjoy!

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food history, sauce, summer

Chimichurri: Argentine Steak Sauce

Steak with chimichurri is a delicious summer treat

            Across central Argentina, grasslands called the Pampas cover a vast area. Ever since Spaniards arrived in the 16th Century with cattle, beef has been a major industry. The region even had its own cowboys, called gauchos. Naturally, Argentine cuisine has developed a number of excellent beef recipes over the last five centuries, but the most famous is actually a sauce that goes with the meat. It doesn’t even have to be paired with beef, though it usually is.

            Chimichurri belongs to an ancient tradition of green sauces made of chopped or ground herbs moistened with vinegar and/or oil. They were eaten in Ancient Rome, across Medieval Europe, and modern variations include pesto, salsa verde, and the North African chermoula. Chimichurri is based on parsley, cilantro, and garlic, combined with other herbs and often peppers or tomatoes. In the Spanish/Mediterranean tradition, the liquids are olive oil and vinegar.

            When Spaniards first reached the Americas, they struggled to adjust to the available food options. In particular, they missed wheat bread and wine. To remedy their homesickness, the Spanish and Portuguese introduced a variety of plants and animals, with varied success. The Pampas were perfect for grazing cattle, sheep, and horses. Salted beef was an essential provision for the long voyages of discovery and trade. To produce it, an entire gaucho or cowboy culture evolved.

            Grapevines grew well in other parts of Argentina, a huge boon for Spaniards used to wine and vinegar. This made Argentina the natural birthplace for beef with chimichurri, which took a surprisingly long time to become popular in the US. As far as I can tell, it’s only become trendy in the last decade or so, and is still uncommon on restaurant menus. Admittedly, I don’t eat out much and definitely not at fashionable restaurants, so maybe I’m mistaken. But “fancy” South American steak sauce is easier to make at home than excellent hashbrowns, so I’ll stick to diners and making my own chimichurri at a fraction of the cost.

            Summer (or the hot days of early fall) is grilling and fresh herb season, making grilled steak with chimichurri a nice hot weather treat. In 1000 Foods to Eat Before You Die, Mimi Sheraton provides a recipe, which I adjusted to my taste. The essential ingredients for a bright, verdant flavor are cilantro, parsley, garlic, vinegar, and oil. Beyond that, some people include oregano, thyme, bay leaves, sweet and/or hot red pepper, or tomatoes. My recipe just uses oregano for depth and hot pepper flakes for a bit of kick. For the right texture the ingredients should be finely minced together. If using a food processor, watch carefully while pushing the pulse button. You want visible pieces of herbs, not a puree.

            Ingredients:

  • 1 bunch cilantro
  • 1 bunch Italian or flat-leaf parsley
  • Leaves from 2 sprigs oregano
  • ¼ yellow onion
  • 2 garlic cloves, peeled and crushed with the side of a knife
  • Pinch red pepper flakes
  • 2 tablespoons red wine vinegar
  • ½ cup (8 tablespoons) olive oil
  • Salt

            Directions:

  1. Coarsely chop the cilantro, parsley, oregano, onion, and garlic.
  2. Combine the herbs, onion, garlic, and red pepper flakes on the cutting board. Mince together.
  3. Place the herb mixture in a bowl, add the vinegar, olive oil, and a pinch of salt, and stir.
  4. Let the chimichurri rest at room temperature for at least an hour.
  5. Serve with beef, another protein, potatoes, or eggs. Bring any leftovers to room temperature before enjoying.

            Any leftovers are especially good with scrambled eggs. Chimichurri keeps well for several days. The herbs will eventually lose their color due to the acid in the vinegar, but this will not affect the taste. A similar meat, poultry, vegetable, or anything sauce is the North African chermoula, which I will be making soon. To get this and other recipes sent straight to your inbox, make sure to subscribe.

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Summer meze
food history, middle eastern cuisine, recipes, summer, Uncategorized, vegetarian

Assorted Meze: Perfect Appetizers/Sides for a Barbecue

This spread is way easier than it looks

Menu: Hummus, Tahini Dip, Tomato Salad, Cucumber Salad, French-Style Lentil Salad, Turkish-Style Chicken with Walnut Sauce (last two recipes in subsequent posts)

            Just as Spain has tapas and Italy has antipasti, Greece and the Middle East have meze. Reading through Mimi Sheraton’s description of the different varieties in 1000 Foods to Eat Before You Die (on pages 498 – 500), it became abundantly clear they would be perfect for entertaining a crowd, particularly during the summer. Most of the common varieties are served cold or at room temperature, and so could be made ahead. Only a few need last minute cooking, and many require no cooking at all. For a barbecue, meze would be ideal to either nibble before the other food comes off the grill or to serve alongside the main dishes.

            Because meze are traditional over such a large area, with diverse landscapes, climates, and traditions, the variety is endless. Common options include olives, vegetable and legume salads, sausages, various dips like hummus or baba ghanoush, fish, stuffed grape leaves, fried items, tabbouleh, and phyllo pastry turnovers, alongside more local specialties. A large proportion of meze are flavored with lemon, garlic, olive oil, or fresh herbs.

            Meze usually serve as a leisurely meal on their own, so having a variety with some substantial dishes is important. So is plenty of pita bread. For a representative summer/early fall selection, I chose hummus (a classic and always a favorite), tahini dip (interesting on its own), tomato, cucumber, and lentil salads, and Cerkez tavugu (Turkish chicken with walnut sauce). As long as you have a food processor, this entire menu is easy to put together. It’s a good idea to make the hummus, tahini dip, lentil salad, and chicken dish a day ahead to allow time for flavors to meld.

To make hummus:

            Across the Middle East, hummus is frequently eaten as a main dish with pita bread. The idea makes perfect sense. Historically, people got much more protein from legumes like chickpeas than from meat. Comparatively speaking, the chickpeas and flavorings were relatively affordable staples. True connoisseurs say that the best hummus is made with a mortar and pestle, with dried chickpeas, but to save time, canned chickpeas and a food processor make a delicious, protein and vitamin-packed snack or meal.

            Ingredients:

  • 1 can chickpeas/garbanzo beans (about 15.5 ounces), drained
  • 4 cloves garlic (peeled, crushed with the side of a knife, and roughly chopped
  • ½ cup tahini (sesame seed paste)
  • Juice of ½ to 1 lemon
  • ¼ cup olive oil, plus more to drizzle if desired
  • Chopped parsley to garnish, if desired
  • Pita bread and/or vegetables, for serving

            Directions:

  1. Combine the chickpeas, garlic, tahini, and juice of ½ lemon in the bowl of a food processor with a pinch of salt. Process to make a thick, slightly gritty paste, scraping bowl as necessary.
  2. With the motor running, slowly add the olive oil through the feed tube. Once the oil is incorporated, taste for salt and lemon, adding more if necessary.
  3. Add water to thin hummus to the desired consistency. ¼ cup produces a thick paste, for a thinner paste, use ½ cup.
  4. Spoon hummus into a bowl. If desired, drizzle with olive oil and garnish with parsley, olives, roasted peppers, etc. (In the Middle East, pomegranate seeds are a popular garnish).
  5. Serve with pita bread and/or vegetables for dipping.

To make tahini dip:

            Tahini actually makes a fascinating, although distinctly bitter, dip on its own. Personally I prefer it sweetened for halva or used for hummus, but the bittersweet flavor is beloved across the Middle East. Here its flavor is further enhanced with garlic, salt, and lemon juice. All you have to do is crush 1 garlic clove with ¼ teaspoon salt in a mortar and pestle until it becomes a sticky paste. Stir the garlic paste into ½ cup of tahini, and mix in 2 teaspoons lemon juice and 2 tablespoons water. The paste will appear to “seize,” just keep stirring to smooth it out. Don’t add more water, which will make the oil separate out. Place in a bowl and serve with pita bread and/or vegetables (during the late summer and early fall, fresh carrots are particularly tasty).

To make tomato salad:

            First, make sure you have fresh seasonal tomatoes. If so, cut them into chunks or thin slices, place on a plate, drizzle with olive oil, salt and pepper to taste, and garnish with chopped parsley for a beautiful red and green effect. (If tomatoes aren’t in season, choose a different meze dish for the best flavor.)

To make cucumber salad:

            Cucumbers, with their mild flavor and high water content, are quite refreshing, which reminds me of a story I heard recently. During the early centuries AD, Christian ascetics competed with each other, seeing who could eat the least food, go the longest without sleep, and so on. This was particularly common in the deserts of Egypt and Syria. In one instance, an ascetic tested his resolve by sitting in the hot sun with a cucumber and seeing how long he could go without eating it. He lasted for several days (presumably he had some water), at which point I shudder to think of the condition of the cucumber.

            For a better-tasting salad, use 2 large or 4 small cucumbers. Peel them if desired, and slice thinly. Toss with ¼ red onion, also thinly sliced, 2 tbsp olive oil, 1 tbsp red or white wine vinegar, and a few finely chopped mint leaves. If desired, add a few crumbles of feta cheese.

            Another common way to prepare cucumbers for meze is to combine with yogurt. Next time, I’ll have a recipe for green lentil salad, so be sure to subscribe.

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Scordolea - Balkan creamy walnut sauce
food history, recipes, sauce, vegetarian

Walnuts, Two Ways, Version 2: Scordolea (walnut sauce for cold chicken)

Scordolea, on cold chicken and sauteed zucchini

            When we left off with the history of the Balkans at the end of the 5th Century AD, most of the region was secure under the Eastern Roman Empire. The Huns vanished from history shortly after Attila’s death in 453, and the Germanic confederations had moved into the former Western Roman Empire. Meanwhile, the Eastern Empire became increasingly Greek. Justinian I was the last emperor to speak Latin and seriously attempt to reconquer the West, so after his death in 565, most scholars call the empire Byzantine, even though the term wasn’t used at the time. War against the Vandals in North Africa, Ostrogoths in Italy, Visigoths in Spain, and Persian Sassanids in Syria didn’t affect the Byzantine territory in the Balkans much. Even the Arab conquests of the 7th Century, which essentially cut imperial territory in half, were far away in Syria and Egypt.

            Pulling troops away to fight on the frontiers left the Balkans vulnerable, and in the 8th and 9th Centuries, new groups of peoples moved in, including nomadic Avars, Magyars, and Bulgars. Magyars settled in the Carpathian Basin and became Hungarian, while the Bulgars settled north and east of Greece. Eventually they adopted the language and customs of another new group, the Slavs, and became Bulgarian. Even Vikings made their way down the rivers of Eastern Europe to trade in Constantinople, though they didn’t stay.

            By 1000 AD, the Balkans were home to Greeks, Romanians (who continued to speak a language descended from Latin), Albanians, Hungarians, and Slavic-speaking Croatians, Bosnians, Serbians, and Bulgarians. Residents traded and exchanged ideas with Italian and German merchants. Over the next few centuries, Byzantine control weakened, particularly as most of their territory in modern Turkey was seized by the Seljuk Turks, originally from Central Asia. Hungary, Romania, and Croatia were never under Byzantine authority, and the non-Greek border regions broke away repeatedly. By the 14th Century, when the Ottoman Turks, descendants of the Seljuks, crossed the Bosporus into Europe, the Balkans was a patchwork of independent kingdoms.

            In the 1350s the Ottomans made their first incursion into Europe, gaining momentum in the 1390s. In 1453, the captured Constantinople, ending the Byzantine Empire. The emperor at the time, Mehmed II, was fascinated by the different lands and cultures under his control, and had a highly cosmopolitan court. He even hired Venetian painters to decorate his palaces. For the next 400 years, the Ottoman court and bureaucracy remained diverse. Among the cultural practices shared, food was one of them.

            Foods like phyllo dough and coffee were introduced by the Turks, and they loved their sweets and rosewater. Many of the dishes introduced during this time remained popular even after the Ottoman Empire declined in the 19th Century, often with a local twist. Such is the case with Scordolea. Where the walnut sauce originated is unclear, but variations were spread far and wide by the Ottomans. The main ingredients are walnuts, soaked stale bread, and garlic, usually. Occasionally, almonds replace walnuts, and in the most popular Greek version, usually spelled as skordalia, nuts are sometimes omitted and the bread replaced with potatoes.

            Getting the recipe right involved some trial and error. At first, I used too many walnuts, not enough bread, and tried to thin the paste with oil rather than water, resulting in a broken emulsion. The paste was sticky, the oil collected on top, and the standard white supermarket bread, which I thought would be neutral, gave the sauce a distinctive flavor. It’s good with barbecue, grilled cheese, peanut butter, and as French toast, but not for this. I needed an unsweetened, less “squishy” white bread. Fortunately, the grocery store bakery carries such loaves at a reasonable cost.

            The second attempt had less walnuts, more bread and milk, and I made sure to drizzle the oil in slowly while the food processor was running. This scordolea had a nice balance of walnut and garlic flavors, with a hint of lemon, though it looked like thick cream of wheat on its own. A garnish of some parsley I picked for my brother’s rabbit and forgot to send home with him improved the presentation significantly.

            Scordolea is eaten with a wide variety of foods. Since the sauce has its own strong, delicious flavor, it’s great for enhancing neutral-tasting foods, in this case, cold chicken and sauteed zucchini. Pretty much any affordable, easy-to-cook staple is transformed by scordolea. It is easy to see why Mimi Sheraton classified it as one of her 1000 Foods to Eat Before You Die in the book by the same name.

            Ingredients:

  • 1 cup walnuts
  • 2 slices good-quality bakery white bread, crusts removed
  • ¼ cup milk
  • 2 garlic cloves, peeled, crushed with the side of a knife, and coarsely chopped
  • Juice of ½ lemon
  • ¼ cup olive oil
  • Chopped parsley, for garnish
  • Cooked chicken, seafood, vegetables, or anything else you would like to eat with the sauce

            Directions:

  1. Place the bread slices in a bowl and drizzle the milk over them. Let the milk absorb for at least 5 minutes.
  2. Place the walnuts in a dry skillet over medium heat. Cook, shaking pan occasionally, until the nuts smell toasty. This won’t take more than a few minutes, so watch carefully.
  3. Put the toasted nuts into the food processor, pulse a few times, then add the bread, any extra milk from the bowl, the garlic, and a pinch of salt. Process to form a smooth paste.
  4. Add the lemon juice to the walnut paste and process until blended.
  5. With the motor running, slowly add the olive oil through the food processor’s feed tube to incorporate. Taste for salt, adding more if necessary.
  6. Run the motor again, and slowly add about ¼ cup water to thin the sauce. It should be on the thick side, but for a thinner sauce, slowly add more water until the desired consistency is reached.
  7. For serving, garnish the scordolea with chopped parsley. Serve with your desired protein and/or vegetables.

            And as always, subscribe for free posts and recipes, sent right to your inbox.

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food history, french cuisine, recipes, soup, stew, vegetarian

French Summer Vegetable Soup: Soupe au Pistou

Soupe au pistou, a southern French classic

            Last summer, in my exploration of 1000 Foods to Eat Before You Die by Mimi Sheraton, I made my own version of soupe au pistou, a southern French soup loaded with summer vegetables, and loved it. Now that it’s August and vegetables are at their peak, I made it again and recorded my recipe. Southern France is quite different from Paris, Normandy, Brittany, and the other northern regions, in climate, culture, and food. If a trip isn’t in the cards for the near future, some of the local cuisine will help us both imagine it. Maybe it will happen someday, but for now, think of rolling hills, olive trees, and enjoy the lack of crowds.

            Note that you can switch up the vegetables depending on what you like or have on hand. Just make sure to include tomatoes, onions, potatoes, white and green beans, pasta, and of course the pistou. Beyond that, feel free to add a sprinkle of cheese, or switch out the angel hair for other pasta, adjusting cooking time accordingly.

            Ingredients:

  • 8 ounces (about 1 ½ cups) navy or other small white beans, soaked and drained according to package directions
  • 1 onion, quartered and thinly sliced
  • 8 tablespoons (equal to ½ cup) olive oil
  • 2 Roma tomatoes, coarsely chopped
  • Salt
  • 6 small red or other waxy potatoes, cut into roughly ½ inch cubes
  • 2 carrots, sliced crosswise with the larger pieces cut in half
  • 2 zucchini, halved lengthwise and thinly sliced
  • 4 ounces green beans, cut into roughly 2-inch pieces
  • 4 ounces angel hair pasta, broken into roughly 2-inch pieces
  • 4 large cloves garlic, peeled and crushed with the side of a knife blade
  • 80 fresh basil leaves, about 2 cups loose
  • Grated parmesan cheese, if desired
  • Sprig of parsley, if desired

            Directions:

  1. Heat the olive oil in a large pot over medium heat. When hot, add the navy beans, onion, and a pinch of salt and sauté until the onions take on some color, stirring occasionally.
  2. Add the tomatoes and cook, stirring a few times, until they begin to break down.
  3. Add just enough water to cover the beans and vegetables and bring to a boil, then reduce heat to simmer. Cook with the lid tilted for 30 minutes, adding more water if necessary.
  4. Add the potatoes, carrots, another pinch of salt, and more water to cover the new additions. Simmer for another 30 minutes.
  5. For the pistou, combine the basil, garlic, ½ teaspoon salt, the remaining 4 tablespoons of olive oil, and, if desired, a bit of parmesan and a sprig of parsley, in a food processor and blend until smooth. It won’t look like a large amount, but a little goes a long way.
  6. Test the white beans. If they are soft, add the zucchini and green beans and taste for salt, adding more if necessary.
  7. Increase the heat to medium and cook for 5 minutes, add the angel hair, and cook for another 3 minutes. Serve the soup with the pistou and optional cheese.

            For more seasonal, global, and historical recipes, make sure to subscribe for free. Of course, if you want to donate and buy me some virtual vegetables, I’m not about to complain.

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Calabrian cuisine - chicken, spaghetti, and zucchini
food history, italian cuisine

Cook’s Tour of Italy Menu 77 (Pgs. 238 – 241): Menu for 4, Calabrian Coast

Region: South Mainland/Islands (Calabria)

Menu: Calabrian Onion Soup with Potatoes, Skewered “Tuna” with Lemon and Oregano, Spaghetti with Garlic and Chili, Baked Zucchini with Mozzarella, Roasted Grapes with Caciocavallo

Recommended Wine: Nozze d’Oro, Sicilian white

            Here is another southern Italian menu with potatoes. As discussed before, even though bread and pasta are more widely eaten there, people living in the region do occasionally eat potatoes. Like in neighboring Basilicata, Calabria has a long history of inequality and poverty, though tourism has improved the region’s economy in recent years. Directly across the Strait of Messina from Sicily, Calabrian farmers grow many similar crops, including olives and citrus fruits. Of particular note are bergamot oranges, whose aromatic peel gives earl grey tea its distinctive flavor.

            The soup was a mix of onions, potatoes, and chicken broth, flavored with a bit of butter and brandy. It had a surprisingly sweet edge to it, probably due to sautéing the onions first, caramelizing their sugars. After getting used to it, this was an interesting change of pace, especially when balanced with a bit of cheese, in this case Romano. Personally I prefer the Roman minestrone or the French soupe au pistou, but there was definitely nothing wrong with this.

            Chicken replaced tuna with lemon and oregano, which go well with pretty much any protein. Centuries if not millennia of heavy fishing have made tuna rarer while factory farming has brought the price of chicken down, but at one time chicken was the pricier treat. Spaghetti with a simple mix of oil, minced garlic, and chili flakes is easy to make, uses pantry staples, and pairs well with either.

            It seemed a bit unusual to cook zucchini in the oven, for the simple fact that during the summer when it is in season, many people prefer not to turn the oven on. Maybe the situation is different in Italy, where people are more likely to open windows than rely on air conditioning, and where drier heat makes that feasible. Either way, I outright disregarded the advice to serve the zucchini on separate plates. It saves a few dishes, and the green color was a nice contrast with the chicken and pasta.

            Roasting grapes was an interesting experiment. They aren’t cooked for so long that they become raisins, which are more cost-effective to buy than to make. Rather, they bake just long enough to soften and collapse a bit, concentrating their sugars. I personally prefer them fresh where the skin has a bit of a crunch, but these are enjoyable. No caciocavallo was available.

            Overall, this would be a great special summer menu that isn’t difficult to make. If you’re worried about turning on the oven, I’m sure the zucchini could be grilled, with slices of mozzarella added at the end of cooking. And to be honest, there’s no need to mess with fresh grapes. Table (as opposed to wine) grapes are bred to be juicy and have that slight crunch as you bite through the skin. They’re best enjoyed as is, without bothering with the oven.

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Aspargessuppe - Danish asparagus soup with mock veal dumplings
danish cuisine, food history, soup

Aspargessuppe: Danish Spring Asparagus Soup

1000 Foods (pgs. 344 – 346), recipe found in text

            Ever since the days of Ancient Rome, asparagus has been a symbol of spring and early summer. Ready sooner than most other vegetables, it seems to be especially popular in northern Europe, where long winters mean a longer season without fresh produce. Perhaps this makes people eager to enjoy everything about summer while they can.

            An interesting Danish recipe for asparagus is a soup enriched with veal dumplings and garnished with asparagus tips. Supposedly, it is not as common as it used to be, at least in restaurants. Most likely, this has to do with how fiddly it is to make. The recipe in the text requires at least five saucepans – one to cook and puree the asparagus, one to heat cream or half-and-half, one to heat broth, one to make a combination bechamel/velouté sauce, and one to cook the dumplings. Egg yolks are added at the last minute. Once they are, the soup has to be heated very carefully to prevent curdling.

            I don’t have five saucepans, and I assume most other people don’t either. If the broth and cream are heated in the microwave, the number can be reduced to a more manageable three. You can save another step by not straining the pureed asparagus. The soup won’t be as smooth, but I personally prefer for it to have a bit more texture.

            The first thickener is a combination of two of the French “mother sauces,” bechamel and velouté. Both use a butter and flour mix called roux to thicken a liquid. For bechamel, or white sauce, the liquid is milk, and for velouté, it is a light broth, typically poultry or fish. Yes, velouté is essentially gravy, but using the French term makes it sound fancy. Additional thickening comes from tempered egg yolks. About half of the soup is gradually whisked into the beaten egg yolks to bring them up to temperature, then the mix is added to the pot and heated carefully.

            This was an excellent soup. The asparagus flavor was clear and distinct, enriched but not overpowered by the bechamel/velouté and egg yolks. For some reason, the combined beef and pork “veal” dumplings didn’t puff up like they were supposed to. I suspect this was because I had previously frozen them and didn’t allow adequate time to thaw before cooking, but they still tasted good. For an easier recipe, the soup would be just as good plain. As with most asparagus soup recipes, the asparagus tips are set aside after cooking, reserved as the perfect garnish.

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Modified Cobb salad platter
american cuisine, food history, recipes

Cobb Salad: A Cold Main Course for Hot Weather

1000 Foods (pg. 547) for information, recipe is my own creation

            This upcoming weekend is supposed to be hot. At times like these, most people don’t want to heat up the kitchen by turning the oven on. Grilling, quick-cooking pasta, and stir-fry are all popular options for home cooks, as are a variety of cold salads.

            Supposedly, cobb salad was invented in California in the 1930s as a way to use up leftovers. Turning leftovers into salads was just as common then as now, though inexplicably this often involved mayonnaise and/or gelatin. Thankfully, cobb salad avoided this in favor of a vinaigrette flavored with lemon juice, Worcestershire sauce, and garlic. Original ingredients included hard-boiled eggs, blue cheese, chicken, bacon, avocado, and tomatoes, presented in rows for a striped effect.

            Inevitably, cobb salad’s popularity in Hollywood spread the recipe nationwide, with some variations. Since avocados were harder to find outside California, they were frequently omitted, and sometimes other diced ingredients like ham were added. Shredded cheese might replace the blue cheese, and some cooks might use the mayonnaise-based dressings popular at the time.

            For my own recipe, I made three adjustments. Since I don’t like boiled eggs or blue cheese, I replaced them with feta and lentils. The French-style green lentils I found at Woodman’s were particularly good, with an almost meaty flavor. And I omitted the tomatoes because they are not yet in season fresh.

            The final result was a mix of chicken, avocados, bacon, feta cheese, lentils, and romaine lettuce with a flavorful vinaigrette. All the different textures and flavors contrasted well with each other, and the platter was just so pretty.

            Ingredients:

  • 1 head romaine lettuce, washed and torn into bite-sized pieces
  • About 1 pound boneless skinless chicken breasts or thighs, cooked, cooled, and cut into cubes
  • About 8 oz feta or blue cheese
  • About 8 oz bacon, sliced across the grain into roughly 1-inch pieces, cooked, drained, and cooled
  • 1 cup French-style green lentils (I used Bob’s Red Mill brand) cooked and cooled, or a few chopped hard-boiled eggs
  • 2 ripe avocados, halved, seeded, and cut into cubes
  • Sliced ripe tomatoes, if in season
  • Juice of ½ lemon
  • 1 tbsp red or white wine vinegar
  • 4 tbsp olive oil
  • 1 or 2 cloves garlic, peeled and crushed with the side of a knife
  • A few dashes Worcestershire sauce
  • Salt and pepper to taste

            Directions:

  1. For the dressing: combine the lemon juice, vinegar, olive oil, garlic, Worcestershire sauce, salt, and pepper in a bowl and beat together with a fork. Let rest for at least an hour to infuse the garlic flavor.
  2. Arrange the remaining ingredients either on a platter or individual plates. Rows are the most traditional, but feel free to let your creativity run wild.
  3. Remove the garlic cloves from the dressing. Whisk the dressing and pour over the salad before the liquids separate. Serve.

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