Posts filed under 'vegetables'
With all the bran and zucchine bread happening lately, I was getting a bit worried about the sugar I was serving. I’d seen some zucchine breads made without sweetening here and there, but they didn’t strike me as particularly healthy. One cup of zucchine can do only so much for you. It can damage the glut of zucchine almost not at all, too.
I saw a savory loaf like this in an Italian cookery magazine the other day, but it was surprisingly presented as a main dish. It featured green beans and walnuts and it sounded pretty good, but I have not yet fed anyone who would think of it as a substitute for a pork chop. Maybe an antipasto would be more like it.
I went warrening through the cupboards to see what I had that could be thought of as healthy and might be cobbled together to make a healthy bread. Shazam! I think I’ve got it!
As a kind of compromise for Continental readers I am measuring many things here using conventional metric measures in unconventional ways. I simply could not get into weighing all of it today, but at least I have not left you to figure out what a cup is. I also used ordinary table setting silver rather than official measuring spoons since I know so many don’t have them to use.
Zucchine Breakfast Bread
Grease or spray a loaf pan with oil or fat. Mine is silicon so I just spray it. Were it metal I would grease it quite heavily and maybe flour it as well.
Preheat the oven to 180° C or 350°F
500 ml/2 cups sugar free corn flakes
125 ml/1/2 cup crusca (miller’s bran)
250 ml/1 cup plus 2 cucchiai / tablespoons milk
1 egg
125 ml/1/2 cup olive oil
250 ml/1 cup grated or shredded zucchine
1.5 inch/4 cm dried chili/peperoncino minced fine with a knife
Put all the above together in a medium sized bowl and stir them together.
500 ml/2 cups all purpose flour (farina 00)
2 teaspoons/cucchiaini baking powder (lievita in polvere)
¾ teaspoon/cucchiaino salt
Put all the above dry ingredients into a large bowl and stir them together
Add the wet ingredients to the dry ingredients and stir them together until they are moistened. If your mixture seems too dry, you could add a tablespoon/cucchiaio of additional milk.
60 g/2 ounces Parmigiano Reggiano, grated finely
60 g/2 ounces Provolone or other tasty cheese, grated
Add the above cheeses or those you choose to the batter. Stir in well, then scrape the heaqvy batter into the loaf pan and make it sort of level if you can.
Pop it into the oven and cook it for about one hour. It is done when a toothpick inserted in the center comes out clean. This bread is dense and very moist so it doesn’t look as done inside as most breads do, but when the toothpick is clean, it’s ready. Let sit for a few minutes and then unmold it onto a cooling rack and allow it to cool quite through before wrapping it tightly. It was very tasty hot with butter, but you could taste the cheese more as it cooled a bit. I might toast it on the third day, but since it is so moist, it should keep very well. Eating it with formaggio fresco or cream cheese might be cheese overkill.
My tongue got tired, so I took some of this outside and fed it to four random Italians. They all said, “Buono!” and that they could taste the cheese. They could neither discern the bran nor the corn flakes, however, which is just as I wanted it. I find it is very difficult to get people to eat healthy stuff if they know it’s there.
I do not think it is possible to jam one more thing into this bread and still get it to cook through. I think I reached critical mass here. Try it, though, and it may help you overcome the sugar doses we get in summer with sweet drinks, gelato, fruits and desserts. It’s full of scrubbing bubbles for your arteries.
July 25th, 2008
I just clicked on that revolving photo presentation in the margin a moment ago. I couldn’t figure out what I was looking at. It was a portion of spoonbread! I haven’t even thought of spoonbread since I posted that article and recipe. It was just delicious. Why haven’t I even thought of it?
What food occupies the top layer of the mind right now?
Tomatoes. I bought a book yesterday that is just different recipes using tomatoes. They are late this year, so they are just beginning to ripen and should stay with us until November, when we will take advantage of Puglia’s longer summer and buy from the Pugliese farmers every Saturday. I’ve already Post-It marked several pages to try, and have started wondering if any of the newly discovered regional dishes will make up readily for twenty.
Lamb. I still have half the lamb I bought this spring. I am pondering slow-cooking a leg in the fireplace for lunch in the garden. Or I could invite just one person and flash cook the rack.
Green beans, or fagionlini. I helped Amelia pick hers this morning right after I picked mine. Mine provided two fists full, hers a whole basin full. We discussed various recipes in which the bigger and more mature beans are good. Amelia went in to prepare Fagiolini alla Greca for lunch! I decided to make a puree one day and a sformato another day. Mine, who live under a walnut tree, are never going to provide that many, but this time of year you can pick anyone’s beans and they’ll thank you for it. If they are not completely stripped they stop making new beans.
Pickles. The cucumbers are really coming on and the dill is almost heading. If the plums don’t hurry up and riped, I may make some pickles from them, too. There are too many to just eat, even if you made plum cake everyday until they were over.
Suppers. When the heat recedes and you can take pleasure in making food just-so for happy people who are happy to eat what you make. Here below is a supper from a few weeks ago. What pleasant people they were! Think what size that table must be to hold fifteen and still have room for another fifteen. What a gorgeous villa that is, and what a terrific kitchen it has! If you ever need eight bedrooms, just ask.
What makes you think of food, and what food are you thinking of this season?
July 22nd, 2008
I couldn’t make up my mind. More bran muffins or more zucchine bread? So I combined the two recipes and I like it better than either! After six taste testers, this is definitely a GO!
Zucchine-Bran Bread
- 1 cup all purpose flour
- 1-1/2 teaspoon baking powder
- 1/4 teaspoon salt
- 1 teaspoon cinnamon
- 1/4 teaspoon nutmeg
- 1/2 cup dark brown sugar
- 1-1/2 cup All-Bran cereal soaked in
- 3/4 cup milk
- 1/2 cup vegetable oil even olive oil
- 1 egg
- 1 packed cup grated or shredded zucchine
- Grease a loaf pan very well.
- Preheat oven to 175°C or 350°F
- Put all the dry ingredients together in a big bowl and stir them together with a fork
- Put all the wet ingredients together in a different bowl and mix them thoroughly.
- Add the wet mixture to the dry mixture and stir until all the dry is wet, but no more.
- Scrape the batter into the loaf pan and put it into the preheated oven. At about
- 50 minutes, test with a toothpick, and continue to test every so often until a toothpick comes out clean when inserted into the center.
- Let rest a few minutes and then remove to a cooling rack.
- Eat some yourself while it is still warm with soft butter, but serve everyone else cream cheese.
Zucchine-Bran Bread @ Group Recipes
July 17th, 2008
This is the hit of my cooking year so far. I worked up the recipe because a client had a person who would not eat cheese so I wanted a second primo without any. In a meal full of favorites, this salad was the favorite dish.
You can’t make a tiny amount. There are just too many ingredients. You could make less, but not little. Don’t let it stop you. It’s an ideal summer salad because it is safe at room temperature, no matter how hot your room or patio is. Leftovers are delicious from the refrigerator and most of the salad can be pre-prepared ahead of time.
There is nothing wrong with any of that and a whole lot right with it.
The ingredients relentlessly move back and forth from sweet to sour with some crunch added in just for the pleasure. It’s kind of pretty, too.
Insalata Siciliana di cous cous
Serves 8-12
Almost all the vegetable components can be made a day ahead and stored in plastic containers in the fridge to make the preparation very quick. The only ones I would do last minute is the tomatoes and the radishes to preserve a good texture.
3 slices of marinated dried tomatoes, diced
¼ cup or an espresso cup of stoned dry cured olives cut in two
¼ cup or one espresso cup of capers, coarsely chopped if they are large
½ cup or 2 espresso cups of chopped mild onions
1 large or several small cucumbers, diced
½ cup or 2 espresso cups of very ripe tomatoes, diced
the contents of an 8 ounce jar or two 4 ounce jars of artichoke hearts in marinade—reserve the oil for the dressing
a good handful of raisins
1 bunch of radishes, halved and then sliced thinly
about 4 ounces of fresh lemon juice
the artichoke oil
olive oil as needed
2 handfuls of fresh herb leaves—oregano, marjoram, thyme, chives, parsley, basil, choose 3 of those.
2 cups or 400 g cous cous prepared in 2.5 cups or 20 ounces of broth or salted water according to the directions
In a large bowl, soak the raisins in the lemon juice.
Clean and prepare all the other components except the cous cous.
Beat the oil from the artichokes into the lemon juice with a fork. Taste for salt and correct. Add all the vegetable ingredients and the herb leaves (I leave the basil for the top in case there are leftovers, because it will turn black.) Mix all these well and leave to marinate at room temperature.
About 30 minutes before serving, prepare the cous cous (you add it to boiling liquid, cover and leave for five minutes!) and fluff it with a fork and then toss it with the vegetables in the big bowl. It may need some additional olive oil to be light and moist. Taste and correct once more for seasoning. Sprinkle the minced basil over the salad if you are using it.
You can garnish this with sprigs of the herbs you used, or radish and cucumber roses. This is served perfectly safely at ambient temperature.
We ate this yesterday before a Peruvian spicy stew and the plum cake that I called the “easiest cake you have never yet made.” It’s still that easy and plums are in season. Mangiate!
I’ve decided to send this off the Presto Pasta Night this week hosted by Kate at Thyme for Cooking. Chow down world.
July 16th, 2008
I had friends to dinner Saturday night. Because I was making the meat dish from the April 7 2008 menu, I decided to do a home-sized version of the Pugliese antipasto, because it keeps people busy and fed while a more complicated dish finishes.
One thing that makes this workable and tastier is that not everything is made at the last minute, or even made at home. I served no meat or fish because the course that followed is very meaty, but with something like prosciutto, pancetta or a few spicy mussels, I would consider this antipasto a whole meal and be happy to have it. I am not, however, all Italian– yet.
The dish on the left is of fried red peppers, but I think they are more accurately called braised peppers. It’s peppers, salt and oil, cooked covered for a long time and then served at room temperature. Directly in front, in a tray made just for antipasto, are fresh green olives, goat’s cheese for the potatoes, a cheese called “Crema di Maggio” or May cream cheese, and black olives. The olives are both from tubs and are not very salty. I don”t know why that is, because olives are picked once a year and I think they must be preserved the same length of time, but anyway, I like these very much and often buy them. This tray illustrates Judy Witts’ oft stated philosophy of shop more and cook less. Those four things are really good and I tried a lot of less-good things before deciding these were worthy of replacing something homemade.
To the left is a plate of tiny baked potatoes cooked under salt. On the right is a loaf of pane di Altamura, a DOP bread that is trucked into my Coop from the south every morning. The hand is Paolo’s, who is pouring a Pugliese rosé wine.
This is, once again, purea di fave secche, which recipe was published here a few posts back. It is served warm. My Umbrian guests really liked it, and it surprised me to find that none of them had ever had it before.
Eating like this, among a few friends, is just about my favorite thing. I’m not so busy that I don’t get to talk and eat with everyone else, because they are friends I can experiment a little, and the evening feels relaxed and healthy.
April 28th, 2008
This is another dish from last Monday’s dinner. It’s an antipasto/appetizer from Puglia. Although recipes I found when I first tried to make it called for using vegetable broth to cook it, I soon discovered that I could make the vegetable broth and cook it all at the same time. It is a very healthy dish in the highest level of Mediterranean attention to vitamins, fiber and animal fat completely replaced with healthy olive oil. I cannot tell you where to buy dried fave in your country, but I know people have bought them in every country I know. If all you can find are fave with their skins, you can use them, but it will have to cook longer and you will need to use a food mill to remove the skins which I am told cause really dramatic intestinal gas.
I was served this garnished or plain in Puglia several times, but this version is my favorite one so far. I ate this by itself for supper yesterday. Jump to the recipe:
Purea di Fave
1 carrot cleaned and diced
1 leg of celery cleaned and diced
1 onion cleaned and diced
1 small dried red pepper crushed
1 teaspoon salt
water to cover
1 large or 2 medium potatoes peeled and diced
250 g or 1/2 pound dried fave/favas/broadbeans without skins
water as needed
salt to taste
Garnish:
red sweet pepper/peperone/capsicum, cleaned and cut in thin slivers
good olive oil
salt to taste
In a tall pot, put the first list of vegetables and salt, then cover with water and bring to a boil. When it is boiling, add the diced potato and water to keep it covered. When it comes back to a boil, add the dried fave and more water to cover.
Cook this at a simmer for about 45 minutes, adding water periodically so that there is always about 1/2″ or one finger’s thickness of water over the top of the vegetables. At 45 minutes, take a fava out and bite it. It should be soft throughout. If it isn’t cook a bit more until it is. Check for salt at this point and stir in more until it tastes right to you.
You can use a stick blender to puree this in the pot, or you can cool it a bit and put it through a medium-fine plate on a food mill. If you do that, you will need to rewarm it before serving.
Before serving, heat the olive oil in a frying pan and quickly fry the pepper slivers with a bit of salt. Scatter them over the purea, drizzle the pink oil as well, and then add a thread of raw oil. Serve warm.
Leftovers will need a bit of added water to become semi-liquid again. You can, however, make this quite a while ahead and keep it in the refrigerator, then warm the amount you want to serve.
April 16th, 2008
Over the next few days we shall be having the recipes for everything that is in that photo, one at a time. Today it’s “Fool’s Hollandaise.” Did you know that Hollandaise is part of classic Italian cookery as well as French? In Italian, however, it’s called salsa olandese. You can find the recipe for real Hollandaise sauce a thousand different places, and for blender Hollandaise a thousand more. I, too, can crouch over a double boiler watching egg yolks attempt suicide and splodge themselves into orangey bits clinging to pan and spoon and unwilling to play nice with lemon juice. I only do that if someone is paying me to.
This is the one I make when I just want sauce for myself and mine. I can make this without looking, while talking over my shoulder to a friend, while dressed or undressed, in any quantity I need. This should be enough to sauce perhaps asparagus for four normal people, or two spring-starved eaters who plan to eat a lot of asparagus– or something else.
Fool’s Hollandaise
4 ounces (120 g) butter at room temperature, cut into pieces
1/2 teaspoon salt
juice of 1/2 lemon
pinch of cayenne (peperoncino in polvere)
1 egg
In a small, heavy pot, start to heat the butter and lemon juice. Once the lemon juice heats and starts melting the butter, remove it from the heat and add the cayenne and salt, then stir vigorously with a whisk. As soon as the butter is completely melted into the lemon juice, add the whole egg, whisking vigorously and continuously. Move the pot back over low heat, continuously whisking, and lifting the pot to cool it occasionally, if it appears to be thickening too fast. Quickly taste for salt; you may need to add some because it depends on how acid your lemon was. Continue to whisk until it is become a smooth, thickened sauce.
The only thing you can do wrong is let it get too hot too quickly in which case the egg will scramble and separate from the lemon butter. In that case, call it Goldenrod Sauce and serve it anyway. Avoid that by controlling the amount of heat and never stopping whisking until it is finished. I could have used a flametamer as I do with polenta, but to me it is just easier to lift the pan away from the heat.
If when it is done you are not ready to eat it, keep it warm by putting the pan into a larger pan containing hot, not boiling, water. I don’t think the microwave should come into this at all, although because I don’t have one, I haven’t tried it.
This sauce is fantastic on greens and with spinach as shown above, it provides the acid you must eat to liberate the iron in spinach. I like it on asparagus, as a dip to artichoke leaves, on eggs, and surprise! stirred like fudge ripple into mashed potatoes. Don’t incorporate it, just make a swirl of it in the potatoes.
April 1st, 2008
I vacated my house two weekends in a row. I become so cooped up through winter and believe me, gray and drippy and cold are not tempting me out, that I start to get tunnel vision. So I’m getting a new look around lately.
This past weekend I went to Civitacastellana. That’s in northern Lazio, somewhere on the shin of the boot, almost at the foot. To get there I drive south to Terni in southern Umbria, then streak off southwest toward Viterbo and eventually south toward Rome. Civitacastellana used to be one day from Rome and so it was a stop off point for travelers north. It perches on a plateau with a rather dramatic gorge that runs through it now, but used to separate it for safety’s sake.
I probably wouldn’t even know it if a friend didn’t live there. Similarly, nearby Otricoli, to which I also went and where another friend now lives.
It’s just different. The terrain, the people, what they eat, the way the light looks, the architecture. It’s all just different. I’m jammed into the Apennines that run along the eastern side of Italy. They’re stuck into the western ones. It’s something like the difference between New Hampshire and West Virginia, only not so far apart.
My refrigerator wasn’t working as I left, so I dragged along a sack of things that wouldn’t be any good if it didn’t switch on while I was away. (It did and I was very happy.) Alison and I decided to make supper of that sack for our friend in Otricoli and her visiting art school student daughter. I played with Alison’s very cute cat. I watched satellite television a bit. I slept late.
The sun shone both days. Sunday we drove to see the house near Otricoli and ended up making lunch together. Alison grilled sausages in the fireplace, Lisa grilled bruschetta in the wood stove and I whipped up some vegetables that were lying around. It was very good and lots of fun to cook so effortlessly with friends, which really doesn’t happen here.
I left a bit early because I am not so crazy about driving after real dark descends. It meant driving through sunset, twilight and evening.
When I turned eastward, all the eastern Apennines were rosy with light coming from the sun sinking into the Mediterranean. Mile after mile the mountains, rocky and gray or whitely snowy, lay bathed in pink and looking like an illustration in a book of fairy tales. I was almost reluctant to turn north toward home, but as I did I saw that the western Apennines were deeply violet from the same sunset and for at least half an hour of the northward travel they slid by on my left like a thousand postcards.
All that pleasure and beauty affected the way I thought over the next couple of days. A bit of change is good for me. There is beauty all over this country if you just open your eyes and go out to meet it. It’s probably true where you are, too.
Cavollini di Bruxelles alla Lisa (Brussels Sprouts for Lisa)
1 Kilo (2.2 pounds) Brussels Sprouts, trimmed and washed
3 tablespoons (cucchiai) good extra virgin olive oil
1 big handful of roughly chopped walnuts
salt to taste
about 1/4 cup balsamic vinegar
Heat a large pot of salted water and when it is vigorously boiling, toss in the brussels sprouts and cook briefly to set the color. They should still be crunchy. Drain them.
Heat the oil in a wide frying pan and toast/fry the walnut pieces for a few minutes, then add the drained brussels sprouts and sauté, stirring/tossing to dry them a bit. Some of the outer leaves may brown and that’s OK. Taste for salt and correct it. When ready to serve, add the balsamic vinegar and stir to coat the sprouts and nuts with a glaze then scrape all into a serving dish. Pretty good!
February 20th, 2008
Cold weather food happening here:
Cream of celery soup
1/2 cup chopped onion
2 cups chopped celery
1/2 teaspoon salt
a few grains of cayenne (peperoncino in polvere)
2 tablespoons butter
Sauté briefly to soften a bit, then add a cup or so of water and let simmer for 30 minutes or so.
2 tablespoons flour
1 1/2 cup milk
Pot these together in a jar and shake like mad until well blended.
Raise the flame under the simmering vegetables and pour this into it slowly, while stirring. Bring to a simmer and simmer for a couple of minutes. Taste and correct for salt. Grind fresh pepper over it when serving it HOT!
Mashed celery root
1/2 of a medium celery root (sedano rape) cut into cubes
1/4 teaspoon salt
water
Put into a pot, cover and simmer until soft– it’s pretty fast compared to potatoes. Drain, mash with a potato masher, add butter and salt and pepper to taste. Eat it up with a big grin. Serves 2 normal people or just me.
Later on there will be fresh homemade tagliatelle with ragù frozen the other day and a baked half of a poussin, or weensy chicken.
December 17th, 2007
Almost everybody here is sick. Most of them have a stomach virus and they can’t eat, but when it starts to go they have the hunger of a roaring lion, but no ability to digest what we usually eat. I was talking to Sognatrice from Bleeding Espresso the other day about what sick people can eat. We both agreed that big, pillowy Mennonite noodles that they call dumplings are one of the things to eat when you are recovering.
I remember fundraising suppers for Meals on Wheels in Hardy County, West Virginia, which were focused on those dumplings. The first time I attended, I was expecting big, fluffy biscuity dumplings, but that’s not at all what I found. One of the two suppers would be a velvet chicken soup loaded with puffy little squares, the other one was ham dumplings. I approached the crock-pot where they kept warm and saw, what? It looked like white sauce. But when it was stirred up for serving, revealed were scraps of country ham and the ubiquitous dumpling noodles. It was really, really good and we ate it with really, really good cole slaw. Hurrah for Meals on Wheels!
I decided to make them for Presto Pasta Night and dedicate the effort to all the sickos currently lying around Italy with sore tummies.
I have only made the noodles once in my life, when some of us were trapped by snow at my friend Jane’s house in Chevy Chase. It was soup weather, for sure, so we made chicken soup and homemade noodles. That must have been a decade ago, but a noodle like this is not easily forgot. In casting about the house, it was clear that no soup-worthy hen was hiding out. But there was a scrap of prosciutto crudo, so off we go.
First thing to say is that prosciutto crudo is not the right ham. You need a bit of either smoked country ham, or speck if you are in Italy. This really needs the smoke. Not having the smoke, I had to add this and that to make this good. I finally got something I would eat, but it’s a lot more and very different ingredients than the wonderful Mennonite cooks of my past would have used.
I started with the noodles. I piled 100 grams of flour on the counter top and made a well in it, dropped in an egg and a good pinch of salt and stirred it with a fork until it was dampened. Then I added a fat tablespoon of water, because these are American noodles. Using a dough scraper and two floury hands, I kneaded it a lot more than I do when I make Italian pasta. Once it was smooth, I formed a neat ball and left it on the counter to rest. Why the pasta gets to rest and cook doesn’t, I don’t know, but that’s the way it is.
I then used a rolling pin to roll it out on the floury counter. If you look at the photo below you’ll see it doesn’t resemble my Italian pasta at all. It’s floury, thicker and not stretchy. It’s almost 1/8” thick. I used a pizza wheel to cut it into the squares you see. They are a fat 1 inch. I left it to rest again.
To make the sauce, I decided that sick people need vitamins and vitamins live in vegetables. Voila! A sofritto.
My elaborated Mennonite cream/ham sauce
½ cup finely chopped celery
½ cup finely chopped carrot
¼ cup finely chopped onion
2 tablespoons butter
½ cup finely minced country style ham
2 tablespoons flour
1 cup or more milk
three splashes of Tabasco
a glug of fortified wine, such as sherry or marsala
salt to taste
generous nutmeg to taste
the juice of half a lemon
Begin by heating the butter in a heavy pan and sautéing the first three ingredients until really soft. Don’t brown them. Sick people don’t want crispy vegetables, so check the carrots, because they are the hardest one. Add the bits of ham, and stir in. Sprinkle the flour over the mixture, and cook a minute or so, stirring. Slowly add the milk, stirring it in. With all those lumpy vegetables, this will go smoother than with a plain white sauce. Bring to a simmer and cook over a very low heat for about 15 minutes, adding milk if it is too stiff. You want the liquid part to be a bit like heavy cream. Taste for salt and correct it. Your individual ham will add some, so it’s definitely a thing to taste and work at.
If it isn’t very tasty yet, add the Tabasco, wine, and then the lemon juice. I blame my porky but not smoky ham for these last two ingredients.
Bring a pot of water to a brisk boil, salt it and dump in the noodle squares. Boil them until they are fairly soft, not al dente like Italian pasta. It was hard for me to do this, but I persevered. I feared to end with flour soup, but managed to rescue them at a point where you could still chew a bit.
If your sauce thickens again, you can add a bit of the noodle water to loosen it.
Drain the pasta, then toss it with the sauce. Hmmm, pretty white! Put it on a colored plate, add a small vegetable and a bunch of white grapes (I always eat those when I am sick) and serve it steaming hot. It should feed three sort of sick people, four fairly sick people, and a crowd of really sick people. Those recovering can probably eat half each.
And now I hope everybody gets well and starts being able to eat like royalty again. Or go to Hardy County and eat the original which shmecks like crazy. Those are some very fine cooks.
December 6th, 2007
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