dinner tonight – Page 3 – From My Table…to Yours

Polenta of the gods

Polenta

To spare you another dissertation on why I love Patricia Wells’ The Paris Cookbook, I will instead refer you to my first post on the book, and get right to the heart of the matter. This polenta is sinfully, sinfully delicious. Why then do I call it “polenta of the gods” rather than “Satan’s cornmeal”? Because this is a dish I would think is a staple on heaven’s divine menu. It is laden with rich cheeses and luxuriously melts in your mouth. The reduced chicken stock, provided you use real, homemade, quality stuff, is the perfect flourish — adding both depth of flavor and visual interest to a side dish that often goes overlooked.

Easy Polenta RJ and I served this with a simple pan-roasted chicken breast and these caramelized shallots and it was all divine. I can see this as a special occasion side dish (too rich for every day, but quick and easy enough to do on a weeknight for guests) to accompany braised meats, or with a mix grill of sorts. Just be warned about two things: 1) this is not a light and airy side dish – it is silky smooth but also dense with cheese and 2) use the best ingredients you can find – homemade chicken stock (or really good store-bought) and artisinal cheese such as Abbaye de Bel’loc or good Manchego since this is a simple and straightforward dish, the quality of the parts equal the quality of the whole.

Helene’s “Polenta” with Sheep’s Milk Cheese, from Patricia Wells’ The Paris Cookbook
(Yield 4 servings)

3 2/3 c. Homemade Chicken Stock, or more as needed
3/4 c. corn flour or fine-grain yellow cornmeal
7 oz. French Basque sheep’s milk cheese, freshly grated (2 1/2 cups)
8 oz. mascarpone cheese

Reduce the chicken stock: in a 6-quart saucepan, bring 2 cups of the stock to a boil over high heat. (Make sure you use a large saucepan, to prevent the stock from boiling over.) Boil until the mixture is thick and syrupy, reduced to about 1/2 cup, 10 to 12 minutes. Transfer the liquid to the top of a double boiler, set it over simmering water, cover, and keep warm.

In a large, heavy saucepan, combine the cornmeal and the remaining 1 2/3 cups chicken stock. Stir with a wooden spoon to blend. Cook the mixture over high heat, stirring, until it is thickened and leaves the side of the pan as it is stirred, about 2 minutes. Reduce the heat to low, add both cheeses, and stir to blend. Cook, stirring to melt the cheeses and thoroughly combine the mixture, about 2 minutes more. The mixture should be soft and pourable. (If it is not, thin it out with additional chicken stock.)

Pour the mixture into warmed shallow soup bowls. Drizzle with the reduced chicken stock, and serve.
Polenta plated

Thai-Style Stir-Fried Chicken and Basil

Thai Chicken with Basil

For all the flack I give my unadventurous husband, I was not always the intrepid eater that I am today. My siblings will certainly attest to the years that I spent eating only hamburgers, and one of my best friends and fellow epicures will surely remember a time not long ago when all fish were abhorrent to me. I credit both my love of cooking and my expanded palate to one person. I am not sure if she knows this (I will be sure to give her a poke on Facebook to read this post, however) but my friend Robin is the source of all of this.

After receiving my acceptance to college during my senior year of high school, I made the decision to defer my matriculation for a year. While the “sabbatical year” is very common in Europe for kids that age, it was a recent trend at my school that had a very strong appeal for me. While New York City and Columbia University certainly was alluring, I wanted to seize the opportunity to try something very new and exciting and ready myself for another four years of academic immersion. I applied to the Wells College Program for the Arts in Paris, and packed up my film and camera for 6 months in the city of lights. There, I met Robin who was a vegetarian from Hampshire College in Amherst, MA. We hit it off immediately, and our bond grew stronger as we realized that her dietary restrictions and my tight budget severely limited our options for meals in Paris.

Her solution, one that seems so obvious now but that at the time was quite a novelty, was to use the dorm kitchen at the Cité Universitaire (where we lived) to cook our own dinners. This did necessitate a purchase of a mini fridge from the BHV (quite an excursion) in which to horde our creations from the pilfering masses of La Cité, as well as a scouting mission for familiar American ingredients around Paris. Robin’s French was in its nacent stages, as were my culinary skills, but between the two of us we put together a proper pantry. My previous experience with cooking was the occasional massive dinner party with my high school friends, where ten or more of us crowded into my mother’s kitchen to clabber together a meal. With Robin, I was given one-on-one instruction and she introduced me to ingredients that I never would have touched before. Something about selecting the perfect eggplant from a table at the farmer’s market, hunting down the elusive broccoli, or debating the proper substitution for an American ingredient like sour cream, made my fear of strange vegetables and creative, ad hoc cooking dissipate.

Over the years since that first stint in Paris, I have come to love vegetables of all kind, have acquired a taste for seafood, and have (obviously) developed a huge passion for cooking. One victory that I will credit to my friends Julie and Lindsay is my recent acceptance of ethnic foods. Robin, try as she might, could not convince me to go anywhere near an Indian restaurant. Lindsay (another vegetarian) and Julie (an omnivore for the most part, unless you offer her boxed mac and cheese) have introduced me to some of my now favorite cuisines – Japanese sushi and Thai food. Though the following recipe is not typical Thai — it has been adapted for an American audience and for use in homes like my own! — it has some similar flavors. I really enjoyed this very simple-to-make dish, as did RJ. Next time I will slice my chicken thinner (as the recipe says to) and use more basil. They also suggest replacing the basil with mint and cilantro. I suppose my palate will have to evolve a bit further for that…

Thai-Style Stir-Fried Chicken and Basil, from Fine Cooking (April/May 2009, issue 98)
Serves 2-3

Mise en place 2 Tbs. vegetable oil
4 medium shallots, peeled and thinly sliced
2 medium cloves garlic, thinly sliced
1/4 tsp. crushed red pepper flakes
1 lb. chicken breast cutlets (about 1/4 inch thick), cut crosswise into 1-inch-wide strips
1 Tbs. fish sauce
1 Tbs. fresh lime juice
2 tsp. packed light brown sugar
1 cup lightly packed fresh basil leaves
chicken-with-basil Heat the oil in a well-seasoned wok or a heavy-duty 12-inch skillet over medium-high heat until shimmering hot. Add the shallots, garlic, and red pepper flakes; cook, stirring frequently, until the shallots start to soften but not brown, 1 to 2 minutes. Add the chicken and cook, stirring, until it’s no longer pink and the shallots are beginning to brown, 2 to 3 minutes.

Add the fish sauce, lime juice, sugar, and 1/4 cup water. Cook, stirring frequently, until the chicken is just cooked through and the liquid reduces to a saucy consistency, 2 to 3 minutes. (If the sauce reduces before the chicken is cooked through, add water, 1 Tbs. at a time.) Remove from the heat, add the basil, and stir to wilt it.

Thai Chicken Basil

Winter Blood Orange Salad

Blood Orange Salad

As I said before, composed salads are really not my strong suit. I think of salads as a venue for all of my odds-and-ends vegetables – that little strip of red pepper gets a chop, the half of a fennel bulb is sliced thin, and they’re thrown on top of what’s left of my bag of baby spinach. It is really only in the summer that I take any care with my salads – the time of year when sometimes a leafy bowl of greens is all my stomach can handle.

Yet in the process of “cooking the issue” for Fine Cooking, I was compelled to at least attempt this salad recipe. I was thrilled to find that I love this dish. The sweetness of the oranges and the vinaigrette contrasts with the salty parmigiano and the toasty hazelnuts. This is a perfect salad for a winter get-together — it is bright, colorful, and widely appealing. I used this salad as a centerpiece for my table, as it seemed prettier to me than any flower arrangement would be!

Blood Orange and Radicchio Salad with Hazelnuts and Shaved Parmigiano by Joanne Weir for Fine Cooking, Issue 97 Blood Orange dressing

(Serves 6)

5 medium blood oranges
1/4 c. extra-virgin olive oil
1 Tbs. white wine vinegar
Kosher salt and freshly ground black pepper
1 medium (12-oz.) head radicchio, washed, cored, and cut into 1- to 2-inch pieces (about 5 loosely packed cups)
1 medium (6-oz.) head butter lettuce,washed, cored, and cut into 1- to 2-inch pieces (about 4 loosely packed cups)
3/4 c. blanched hazelnuts, toasted and coarsely chopped
1-1/2 oz. chunk Parmigiano-Reggiano or aged goat cheese

Finely grate 1 tsp. of zest and then squeeze 2 Tbs. juice from one of the oranges. In a medium bowl, whisk the zest and juice with the olive oil, vinegar, 1/2 tsp. salt, and a few grinds of black pepper.

Using a sharp knife, trim off the peel and white pith from the remaining 4 oranges and cut crosswise into 1/4-inch slices; remove any seeds.

In a large bowl, toss the radicchio and butter lettuce with the hazelnuts and just enough dressing to lightly coat (about 1/4 cup). Season to taste with salt and pepper. Divide the salad among 6 serving plates and top each with 3 or 4 blood orange slices. With a vegetable peeler, shave a few shards of cheese over the top.

Radicchio Blood Orange Salad

Fried Rice and Shrimp

I would like to add to my previously mentioned list of food I usually purchase rather than attempt to cook. Asian food, though a broad category, should certainly be on that list. I just think that the professionals do a much better job than I ever could, for several reasons: 1) I don’t usually have the right ingredients and end up making odd substitutions like vermouth+sugar for mirin, barbecue sauce+teriyaki sauce+molasses for hoisin, and ground fennel seed for star anise. When I do buy the occasional jar of Thai fish sauce or black bean paste, it ends up sitting in my fridge for ages until eventually I throw it out. 2) Asian dishes usually (and admirably) involve lots of vegetables. This poses the recurring problem in my house. If I buy 5 different vegetables for a stir fry or something, then I use a tiny bit of each since I’m cooking for only one veggie-eater, I end up with a pile of leftover vegetables that I can barely begin to erode before they go bad. 3) I’m no Asian – I’m the whitest white girl eva… so I doubt I would ever make anything authentic or ground breaking in this arena. 4) It is fun to get takeout every once and a while – every cook needs a break!

Now you know all my pathetic reasons for not venturing into the culinary sphere of the Far East. Unassailable logic, no? Despite this, it took only one recipe to allay all my fears and negate all my excuses! I should say, actually, that it is two recipes – though one is decidedly more Asian than the other, they go together so well I am including them both here.

Funny that this ‘Asian’ recipe comes from another stark-white white girl: Ellie Krieger. As far as Food Network stars go, I would give Ellie a 5 out of 10. Not as funky/charismatic as Anne Burrell or cute as Danny Boome, but also not as annoying as Paula Deen or Rachael Ray. I never watch her show, cuz most of the food is whole grains and vegetables which don’t go over so well with RJ. So imagine my amazement when I see Ellie’s recipe for fried brown rice, chock full of colorful veggies, in my Fine Cooking. As some of you know, I’m doing the “Cook the Issue” challenge, whereby I have to cook every recipe in Issue #97 – see my work so far by clicking here. Before I post the recipe, let me tell you how Ellie, with this one dish, addressed all of my issues with both her cooking style and the making of Asian food in general:

1) The recipe does not include any exotic Asian condiments besides soy sauce, which hardly counts, and fresh ginger, which I sometimes buy and happened to have leftover from my marmalade. The shrimp, which I paired with this rice, required Chinese five-spice powder, but I can buy this in small quantities and not worry about having to toss it within 6 months.

2) Yes, this fried rice uses a lot of vegetables, but get this: it encourages the use of whatever leftover veggies you have lying around. Think baby carrots that are turning flakey and white on the outside, that random quarter of a red bell pepper you’ve had in a plastic bag since last week’s salad, and residual broccoli stalks. It also incorporates frozen vegetables like corn and edamame which can obviously keep a lot longer than fresh stuff.

3) I gained confidence starting my venture into Asian cuisine under the tutelage of a woman with skin paler even than my own.

4) Sure is fun getting takeout, but it is also fun to save money and have fun cooking. I made the full yield of the recipe, and ate the rice for several lunches in the days that followed.

5) This recipe also helped me to get over the whole problem with whole grains in my house. It requires that the brown rice be cooked in advance and chilled in the fridge before frying. This means that I can actually justify cooking my brown rice for dinner one night (even though RJ won’t touch the stuff so I’ll have to make him a separate white rice serving) and saving the leftover rice for the next day’s cooking.

Needless to say, the dish was a revelation. The shrimp, which comes from the same Fine Cooking issue, was simple to make alongside the fried rice. They tasted wonderful together! And I did most of the prep work for both recipes well ahead of time, making the assembly all the easier. I highly recommend this dinner and the inevitable lunches that will follow unless you have 4 people who love fried rice like you do!

Five-Treasure Fried Rice, by Ellie Krieger in Fine Cooking issue #97 (serves 4+)

“I first created this recipe as a destination for leftover broccoli stalks, but its easily adaptable, so feel free to substitute other vegetables you might have in the fridge—asparagus, zucchini, peas, mushrooms, bok choy, bean sprouts, and jícama are all possibilities. I love the nutty taste and chewiness of brown rice, and you just can’t argue with its antioxidant power and fiber. My favorite route to brown rice is to order it with Chinese food, but you can certainly cook some up yourself. Either way, bear in mind that the rice has to be well chilled so the starch hardens and makes it fry-able. Use fresh rice and you wind up with a gummy mess.”

2 Tbs. canola oil
1 cup peeled, finely diced broccoli stems (from about 1-1/4 lb. broccoli)
3/4 cup finely diced carrots
3/4 cup finely diced red bell pepper
3/4 cup frozen shelled edamame
3/4 cup corn kernels, fresh or frozen
4 scallions (both white and green parts), thinly sliced
2 Tbs. finely grated fresh ginger
2 large cloves garlic, minced
4 cups very cold cooked brown rice
3/4 cup finely diced Canadian bacon (4 oz.)
2 large eggs, lightly beaten
1/4 cup lower-sodium soy sauce

Heat all but 1 tsp. of the oil in a large nonstick skillet or stir-fry pan over medium-high heat. Add the broccoli stems, carrots, and bell pepper and cook, stirring frequently, until the vegetables begin to soften, 3 to 5 minutes. Add the edamame and corn and cook until the edamame is thawed, about 1 minute. Add the scallion, ginger, and garlic and cook, stirring, until the raw garlic aroma subsides, about 1 minute. Add the rice and Canadian bacon and cook, stirring, until heated through, 3 to 5 minutes.

Make a 3-inch well in the center of the rice mixture. Add the remaining 1 tsp. oil, then the eggs, and cook, stirring, until the eggs are almost fully scrambled. Stir the eggs into the rice mixture. Stir in the soy sauce and serve.

Salt-and-Pepper Shrimp with Garlic and Chile, from Fine Cooking issue #97 (serves 4)

Using easy-peel shrimp will speed prep because the shells are slit open and they’ve been deveined. [This recipe can be prepared as a meal or as a fun appetizer]

2 Tbs. cornstarch
1 tsp. granulated sugar
Pinch of Chinese five-spice powder
Kosher salt and freshly ground black pepper
5 large cloves garlic, finely chopped
1 serrano chile, thinly sliced into rounds
4 large scallions (green parts only), sliced 1/4 inch thick
1-1/2 lb. large shrimp (26 to 30 per lb.), peeled and deveined, tails left on
3-1/2 Tbs. peanut or canola oil
1 small lime, cut into 4 wedges

In a large bowl, mix the cornstarch, sugar, five-spice powder, 1 tsp. salt, and 1 tsp. pepper. In a small bowl, mix the garlic, chile, and scallions; set aside.

Pat the shrimp dry with paper towels. Line a small baking sheet or large plate with a double layer of paper towels. Add the shrimp to the cornstarch mixture and toss until evenly and thoroughly coated.

In a heavy-duty 12-inch nonstick skillet, heat 1-1/2 Tbs. of the oil over medium-high heat until very hot. Add half of the shrimp in a single layer. Cook without disturbing until deep golden and spotty brown on one side, about 2 minutes. Using tongs, quickly flip each shrimp and continue to cook until the second sides are spotty golden brown, about 1 minute longer. (The shrimp may not be cooked through at this point.) Transfer the shrimp to the prepared sheet. Add another 1 Tbs. of the oil to the skillet and repeat with the remaining shrimp, transferring them to the sheet when done.

Reduce the heat to medium and add the remaining 1 Tbs. oil to the skillet. Add the garlic mixture and cook, stirring constantly, until the chile and scallions are softened andthe garlic is golden and smells toasted, about 1 minute. Return the shrimp to the pan and stir to combine. Serve immediately, with the lime wedges.