Hey, do my work for me!

I cannot get fiddleheads.  You live in the far northeast of the American continent and can go pick them in the woods.  So do it!

Here is my starting point for fiddlehead ravioli with lobster sauce.  (To me that is the utmost expression of where I come from mixed with who I now am, but I can’t make it. )  I think frozen fiddleheads would be equally as good if you can find them.

The filling I would make by cleaning and boiling fiddleheads until tender.  For 200 g of fiddleheads I would add 60 g of butter, a good pinch of ground cumin and salt to taste.  This I would blend or grind until fine, then refrigerate to firm up.  You need the butter to make it solid enough to pile up but then turn creamy when it warms up.

I’d make or buy egg pasta, roll out very thin, then spoon tiny piles of filling onto it about2 inches apart.  Dampen the pasta surface and top with another sheet of pasta, pressing with your fingers to eliminate air.  Cut them out however you like.  Let them sit on a clean kitchen towel for a few moments, or put them back in the fridge if you want to cook them later.

They should be cooked in simmering salted water until they float, then carefully removed with a slotted instrument.

Lobster sauce is almost impossible to dream of, since lobster is not very available and when it is costs about Euro 56 a kilo or $30 per pound.  But, big sigh, let’s go.

Melt about 30 g or one ounce of butter in a frying pan and to it add 1 teaspoon grated lemon zest.  Add about 125ml or 1/2 cup heavy cream and bring it to a simmer.  Add about 100 g or 3.5 ounces diced lobster meat and 2-3 tablespoons of fresh lemon juice. Taste for salt and correct.  Stir very well as it thickens.  Toss the drained ravioli into it for a minute.  Serve blazing hot with grated Parmigiano.

I’m imagining this filling being creamy and melting into the mouth when bitten into, sort of like chicken Kiev.

So who’s game to do the test kitchen version of this?  You can just note down alterations and additions as you decide they are necessary and comment on what you think of the dish.  You could be like that Christopher fellow I read about who tests and compares 12 recipes for mashed potatoes.

Come on, it’ll be fun!

Comments (8)

Michelle | Bleeding EspressoMay 30th, 2010 at 20:17

Have never heard of a fiddlehead in my life…but I’d eat them if you made them!

Michelle | Bleeding EspressoMay 30th, 2010 at 20:36

Erm, this is *so* weird…as I continue going through my feedreader, I see this old post linked at my friend Salena’s blog:

http://www.salenalettera.com/2008/05/fiddleheads-of-maine.html

I’m going to dream about fiddleheads now!
.-= Michelle | Bleeding Espresso´s last blog ..What’s Cooking Wednesday: Pasta with Peas =-.

RuthMay 31st, 2010 at 01:02

What a great idea! I do love fiddleheads and lobster. Unfortunately for the next couple of weeks – no pasta for me – or very creamy sauces either. I’m doing a return to South Beach Diet, phase one. But I will be doing this vicariously. Perhaps I’ll just do steamed lobster and fiddleheads and imagine the rest.
.-= Ruth´s last blog ..Skirt Steak, Worth the Effort =-.

JudithMay 31st, 2010 at 07:02

OK, so make the sauce without cream!

JudithMay 31st, 2010 at 07:08

Don’t listen to Selena about how to cook them! Olives have never grown up there and have no business messing up fiddleheads, and they do not need garlic, either.

MaryMay 31st, 2010 at 13:09

I’ve never heard of fiddleheads either. What do they taste like? Are they bitter, like radicchio or peppery like arugula? Inquiring minds want to know.

casalbaMay 31st, 2010 at 15:24

So, what is a fiddlehead? Suppose I should go and google it.

JudithJune 1st, 2010 at 07:31

They are not bitter nor spicy. The flavor is indescribable, which is why people so often compare them to asparagus. They don’t taste like asparagus, either, but the experience is similar as to texture, mild nutty flavor, but that’s really like saying brocolli and cabbage are alike.
The thing is, they grow under trees in boggy woods that may dry out in summer, but in spring are wet. Other inedible ferns grow among them, so it takes a person to carefully choose and pick them by hand. When I was a kid you could get them no ther way. I helped pick them as soon as I was big enough to lug a grocery sack. The season was just about now. The woods were filled with gorgeous flowers at the same time. It’s a treasured memory.

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