le sauce

sweet garlic eggplant

One night James made steamed eggplant and rice for dinner, and I couldn't get enough of it. I raved, gave thanks, asked for more, asked that he make it again. He knew what was coming, I'm sure. I asked him to write down the recipe so I could share it here. He hates when I do that (it wasn't the first time). He doesn't like following recipes and he certainly doesn't like me following his recipes. And I know why.

Because the same dish he made for dinner, once unconditionally loved and praised, was now poked, prodded, questioned and doubted.

Me: The ratio in your sauce looks... well, isn't the sesame oil going to overpower it?

James: This is the ratio from the time you liked it. You said this was the one.

Me: Oh. Good. But why do you add it last? Since you're already steaming the eggplant, shouldn't you add the sauce first so it cooks a little and the flavours come together?

James: No, the sauce doesn't need to cook.

Me: Then why add the sauce to the pan at all? All of the other ingredients are cooked, you could just toss the eggplant in it.

James: Because the eggplant makes the sauce thicker. Trust me.

Me: Mmmmkay.... So, why do you steam it sooo much/leave the garlic cloves whole/etc.

James: Because that's how I like it. I thought you said you liked this.

Me: No, I do! I do...

And I do. He was right about everything. I had him tweak what I was skeptical about but it was better his way: I saw the sauce thicken with my own eyes, you do need to add the eggplant first, steaming it a little too much is nice, uneven pieces actually add to the sauce, I even asked him to slice some garlic thinner, only to end up picking at the whole, steamed bulbs he'd set aside for himself (yeah, he loved that part especially). In the end--or the beginning, rather, he had a simple, great recipe, and I remembered that I knew that the first time I tried it.

black olive bagna cauda

If you wander through le sauce, you'll start to notice that I enjoy black olives a lot. I cook them with pasta, I eat them with eggs, and there's not much that separates the recipe below from the black olive tapenade I make. Except that a bagna cauda is just way more sultry than a tapenade. It's heady with garlic and it's very much about the luscious, flavoured oil that the garlic, and usually the anchovies, swim in. A tapenade, like other dips, may come together with a lot of oil, but it's not left loose and silky like this is.

Not being an eater of anchovies, I felt I was being left out of the bagna cauda party, so I replaced them with black olives in this recipe mostly for their saltiness. Really, this time, the olives are just a means to an end--a way to get me as close to bagna cauda as I can. And their inclusion makes this a less-than-authentic bagna cauda--I even roasted the garlic to mellow and sweeten it, where it's usually simmered on the stove. But it's my version of a vegetarian bagna cauda and it was absolutely devoured at the start of the last dinner party I hosted. Ok, fine, I associate with the kind of people that eat everything in sight to begin with, but this went particularly fast, even for us.

so much pesto

I've lost any pesto inhibitions, if I ever had any. Since a traditional pesto is basil leaves, pounded or pureed with a little garlic, pine nuts, some grated Parmesan cheese and extra virgin olive oil, there's really not one element you can't swap out for something similar. I used every herb I could get my hands on to get very different pesto flavours, and in the case of the garlic scape pesto, the scapes served as both garlic and greens! I varied the nuts and cheeses in each pesto but you could even use different oils. Using a little hazelnut oil or a drop or two of sesame oil would change things pretty drastically, and herb-flavoured oils might be a nice way to add a certain je ne said quoi to a standard basil pesto.

Both the taste and the colour of pestos vary depending on what's in them, but a thin layer of oil on top of finished pestos (which freeze so well and thaw on the counter in just a couple of hours, by the way) helps keep oxygen away and your greens vibrant. They'll still dull and darken a little but it's nothing a good stir before serving can't fix. And speaking of serving, what can't you use pesto on, really? Pasta is obvious, crostinis are perfect for summer and no-cook nights, and they're great on grilled or roasted vegetables, polenta, in soups, stirred through couscous, eaten straight from the bowl...

hundred pea pasta

Hundred pea pasta! So called because when I looked down at my first bowl I thought, woah, there are like a million peas in this pasta! Even after checking my tendency to exaggerate I reasoned that, surely, there are at least one hundred peas in this pot.

And while this is the perfect time of year to bathe your pasta in an exorbitant amount of very fresh peas, when fresh green pods should be everywhere you turn, maybe you still can't get your hands on them. Perhaps you're eager to get to the weekend market but, you know, you also like sleep. Perhaps that makes you a little lazier than everyone else in your Twitter stream seems to be. So you get to the market at--gasp!--10.30, and all of the peas are gone. You look around at what's left and scroll quickly over a tweet from an hour ago that smugly announces that last batch being sold, and hurry if you want fiddle--oh!--those are gone too! Don't be ashamed. We You don't need this judgement nor the pity, for that matter. You can push those sunglasses up the bridge of your nose and buy more cheese than you need right now and maybe some lettuce with a surprising amount of spiders dozing deep in leaves--a sure sign of its freshness. For all anyone knows, that is your 3rd cup of fair trade coffee today, not your wake-up one, and you can use frozen peas for this pasta when you get home and it will be simply perfect anyway. Ok??

Good. Now on to why I want you to go to the trouble of boiling and mashing garlic for this simple pasta. You see, the idea started out as a pea pesto, but the idea of raw garlic matched with timid peas seemed like an unfair fight. I knew I needed to cook the garlic to mellow it out, and I wanted to puree it so that I could really get a taste in every bite, along with those peas, so a puree seemed like a good way to go. Par-cooking the garlic in boiling water first ensures that it's cooked inside and out before it's swimming in the oil it's flavouring. You can mash away knowing it's cooked before the outside turns gold and it can continue to cook after it becomes one with those peas. Boiling the peas for a minute tempers the texture of the fresh ones you'll have one day, some day, and softens frozen ones so they're ready to be cooked. The rest is a matter of preference. I used pecorino cheese for its bite, saltiness and for this hint of citrus I get, though I may be alone in that last description. Feel free to use parmesan if that's what you have on hand. I've used mint and chives for this pasta in the past, and imagine tarragon would be perfect too. But I'm not telling you what to do. It's your pea pasta, damnit, fresh or otherwise.

garlic and spice and everything nice

One of my strategies, when there is "nothing to eat" in the house, is to take some garlic and chilies (which I always inevitably do have in the house...you too?), and fry them in some oil. That's the start of a basic fried rice, if I happen to have any leftover rice, or if I have any pasta, lentils, or dried grains, it turns into a paired down version of one of a simplest yet most satisfying meals. After garlic and spice, you can add any herbs that are wilting away, slivered nuts, a fried egg, avacado slices--anything nice lying around, when it appeared there was nothing to eat. Much better than resorting to takeout sushi or pizza, I think, in every way. Sometimes weeknight meals, in all their simplicity, are the best.

beans braised in milk

 

ah, the start of a new month! (i'm not getting into what this is the end of just yet...) and as has been the tradition since the spring, i'm trying to make better use of my cookbooks and posting a recipe from one of them over the first weekend of each month. this weekend i made a recipe from the river cafe cookbook: green, which i'd been eyeing since june. had i made it in june, i would have had the fresh fava beans that the recipe calls for. being the early days of september, i'm seeing more romano or cranberry beans at the market, and used those. but the intended mature favas should still be around, so you and i should still try to find them and make the recipe with those beans too. whichever you use, i'll be by your place with the bread and a buttery white wine. say 3ish? ...hmm? oh! the recipe. yes...

believe it or not, i didn't inhale the entire cooked pot of beans in one sitting! but i did attack the refrigerated leftovers a long 5 hours later, and they were even better then. they did that hanging-around-mingling-with-the-juices/flavour-deepening thing that curries and a batch of chili will do (i also threw the remaining grated lemon zest on top before packing them away), so i'm thinking of making these ahead of time and heating them very slowly in a pan before serving next time. you might want to consider that before i come over too.

 

i used a whole, small but very fragrant head of spring garlic, as instructed but if you're hesitant to part with yours (they can be hard to come by), of course use regular garlic. and make sure you "test for seasoning" as noted, because if you're using maldon salt as i did, you may need more than you think. those big flakes are deceptive when salt usually sits compact and intense in your cupped palm. again, substitute your best salt if maldon isn't within reach.

one other tip: the lovely ladies behind this recipe wisely suggest using a heavy-bottomed pan for this braise, which is great to avoid burning or sticking at the bottom, but remember that a good one will really really hold the heat. and if you've ever heated milk on the stove, you know that it gets bubbly and overflows if you don't watch it. and even if you know it, you might accidently let that happen every time, like i do. i ended up cooking these for half the time with the lid off, even with the heat turned down really low, to keep the liquid at a low simmer. so plan to be in the kitchen for the duration, it will be well worth your time.

broad beans braised in milk (fave fresche brasate al latte)
from the river cafe cookbook: green

*ys note: i couldn't find fava beans and used romano/cranberry beans with great success.

for 6
3kg broad beans* (podded weight 1.5 kg)
4 tablespoons olive oil
1 whole head spring garlic, divided into cloves, peeled
10 sage leaves, finely sliced
maldon salt and freshly ground black pepper
150 ml milk
6 slices of sourdough bread
finely grated zest of 1 lemon
extra virgin olive oil

gently heat the olive oil in a medium, thick-bottomed saucepan with a lid. add the broad beans and garlic (apart from 1 clove, save it for the bruschetta), and slowly cook together for 10-15 minutes or until they become soft. add the sage, salt and pepper, and carry on cooking just to allow the sage flavour to penetrate the beans. pour in the milk, cover the pan and simmer very gently for 20 minutes, or until the beans have absorbed most of the milk. test for seasoning.

preheat the grill. toast the bread on both sides, then rub lightly on one side only with the reserved garlic clove. spoon the broad beans and some of their juices over each bruschetta. scatter over the lemon zest, and drizzle over each a generous amount of extra virgin olive oil. 

butter blistered new potatoes with garlic and herbs

i am not one of those people who refuse to turn on the oven in the summer. i think there are perfectly good reasons to do so, and new potatoes are one of them. sure, roasted potatoes are tempting any time of year, but the tiniest new potatoes i'm seeing at the markets right now are special...

 

their very size makes them ideal for roasting because they don't need to be cut to cook evenly. maybe one or two need to be halved, but if you can get the really teensy ones, do so for this recipe. their skins will blister and crisp up, and the insides will get cooked to creaminess in just twenty minutes. 

they almost burst in your mouth. and then there's the butter.

 

 

usually i roast potatoes with olive oil and herbs--you too? i could have used olive oil here, but i jumped on the specialness of these new potatoes as an excuse to use butter. butter and garlic, getting all nutty and sweet in the high heat of the oven. every time i make these, after the potatoes are all gone, i swipe my finger through the butter/herb/garlic sauce left behind on the foil and lick away. there's no way you will want to throw that out.

butter blistered new potatoes with garlic and herbs  

1 1/2 lbs new potatoes, washed and dried
2 tbs unsalted butter
1/4 c fresh dill fronds, plus 2 sprigs
1/8 c fresh thyme leaves, plus 2 sprigs
1 large clove garlic, peeled
1/4 tsp coarse salt
maldon salt to garnish

preheat the oven to 450 degrees.

meanwhile, set aside the sprigs of thyme and dill for garnishing, and roughly chop the leaves. mince the garlic.

set a small pan over medium heat and add the butter, chopped herbs, garlic and coarse salt. heat the butter until it's half melted. remove the pan from heat and continue to stir. the residual heat will melt the butter.

leave the tiny potatoes (one inch in size) whole, and cut any potatoes larger than that in half. add all to a large bowl. pour the seasoned, melted butter over top and mix well to coat the potatoes. line a large, 4-sided baking sheet with foil, and pour potatoes and the mixture out onto it evenly.

bake in the centre of the preheated oven for 20 minutes. the butter will start to bubble and brown. check any larger pieces with a fork and make sure they are cooked through. if not, roast for another 5 minutes.

remove the sheet from the oven carefully and mix the potatoes well in the butter and herbs. crush some of the maldon salt in your fingers and sprinkle it over top of the potatoes. strip the leaves from the herb sprigs set aside and scatter them over top. serve hot.

serves 4 as a side dish.

herb roasted vegetables and gravy, with crispy kale on creamy polenta

it's fall, so i can legitmately start roasting vegetables and overdosing on kale again. i tend to do that a little in the warmer months but it just seems kind of wrong. that's a time for eating the food that you can really enjoy raw and inhaling the watery fruits and vegetables that only thrive in the sun. but i really do look forward to the cooking that comes in cooler months, when flavours are a bit richer and "comfort food" is the euphemism for eating creamy, savoury things.

 

 

so i started with my craving for polenta--the creamy kind, not the fried or cake-y kind, though i do love it that way too. and in my haste to have all the roasted vegetables i love, i made a little of all of them... and a whole head of roasted garlic! "why choose", is one of my mottos...and the oven was already going to be on, so...

 

and since there would have to be kale, i roasted that too. roasted kale is almost as addictive as potato chips--and i do not take that statement lightly. i cannot stop myself from eating an entire bag of potato chips once i crack that seal, but i defy you to have just one perfectly roasted, salted, crispy kale chip.

creamy polenta? check. 

a cup of parmesan for complexity and extravagance? check and check!

but the part of this meal that i hadn't planned on making was a gravy to tie it all together. i just couldn't let the juices that seeped out of mushrooms and cherry tomatoes go to waste. with some of that roasted garlic and a splash of a few high-flavour sauces, this gravy reminded me of worcestershire sauce. could it be i created a veg-friendly substitute? you tell me...

(click below to continue to recipe!)

panzanella

there are probably about as many panzanella recipes as there are households in tuscany, because it's essentially an old bread salad  (stale and hard bread works best here) with tomatoes and whatever other vegetables need using up. it's a "leftovers" dish so i feel especially free to customize it, and i have. for instance, i like this salad to be especially tart so i add olives in addition to the capers. i also like to make the croutons for this dish very dry, so i make mine in the oven instead of over the stove. and often when i have the oven going, i use it as an excuse to roast some garlic, so i throw some of that into this salad too.

but despite taking liberties with this dish, my list of preferences is long too. i like the tomatoes to be the star vegetable, so i don't add cucumbers, peppers or any of the other vegetables commonly used in this salad. and i think a thin, red wine vinaigrette is perfect for this, but you might like it better with white vinegar or even sweeter balsamic. don't let my pickiness when it comes to this salad hold you back. this is just my favourite way to make panzanella. it might be james' too. he told me about 3 times how much he liked this when i made it a couple of weeks ago, which is rare commentary--he usually needs to be prompted for feedback (too busy eating, he says...)

one tip i think that's worth trying is to let the sliced shallots mellow out in the vinaigrette while you get on with the rest of the prep. it's a tip i learned from my mom. having them sit in vinegar takes the edge off the shallots and it also imparts more flavour to the dressing. so i'd say try that, but use the rest of the recipe that follows as a jumping off point to make your own favourite panzanella.

green garlic and ricotta scrambled eggs

i still have ramps on the brain but green garlic also has my attention. these early spring harvest weeks bring both of them to the markets for a short time. the two of them are alike in that they both taste a little like garlic and a little like scallions. the bulbs of ramps or wild leeks, look like garlic bulbs, while green garlic, which is young garlic before it forms mature bulbs, looks a lot like scallions. oh nature...such a sense of humour.

aside from its mixed flavour, green garlic is known for being fairly mild in flavour. so you can enjoy a lot of it without having to mellow it out with a lot of cooking. like tossing it into scrambled eggs. eggs make such a great medium for flavours, like when you fold sauteed vegetables into an omelette or bake them in a quiche. eggs as light in texture as scrambled eggs incorporate fine herbs really well, or in this case, finely chopped green garlic. the ricotta makes these scrambled eggs extra light but also extra rich at the same time. however, if you don't have ricotta, the ricotta could be omitted altogether. the recipe would turn out fine. but you would be sad wouldn't you? i know. me too.

only a handful of ingredients and minutes are needed, and you're on your way to enjoying the flavour of green garlic and creamy, savoury scrambled eggs. nice on the weekends with an english muffin, some trashy tater tots and bulldog sauce from the bottle. the eggs may be a little refined but we don't have to be.