le sauce

weekend class: roasted beet and blood orange salad

weekend class = learning a thing or two about cooking and dining well. techniques, ingredients, recipes projects that definitely need to be tackled on the weekend. the result? weekend-class fare, of course.

There is a place for salads in winter. A particular kind of salad, and one that you are not likely to want or have in the summer. This type of salad in question is confident and outspoken.

It is sometimes late-Friday-night surly, all tangy and a touch bitter, and sometimes it is Sunday-dinner filling, with all kinds of carbs and proteins landing with a thud in your bowl. And when the salad involves roasting ingredients, you almost always restrict it's invitation to winter, don't you? This recipe I'm sharing is not my creation but one I was compelled to make this winter, and one I reserved for weekend cooking because while easy to make, there are several components. A couple of recipes within this recipe. The resulting salad is definitely as brazen as the winter salads I described. Powerful. Violent even--the dressing at least. 

Well look at it. That is violent pink if I ever saw it and wait until you taste it. It's not for the timid and in my opinion, it can't really share the table with anything other than a docile piece of bread. My appreciation of the sharp-as-a-scolding dressing was aqcuired over many bites. I teetered on not liking it, but the enthusiastic acceptance and praise by everyone else at the table (a diverse group, too) helped me see its finer points. It saved the salad from being that fine but all too common roasted beet and nut salad you still see on all too many menus. And though I'm not one of those people that thinks every star ingredient needs a foil, this vinaigrette which gets it's kick from raw shallots is a nice partner for those beets, if--and this is what I will do differently next time--you dress the salad as you go. The amount on the beets alone, and maybe a splash off a fork thrown from a distance, is all I'd need on my greens on a normal day. If you're feeling like you can go head to head with a stronger salad, get as surly as you want, I'll get right out of your way.

This salad is from that great cookbook that I was gifted recently, and the recipe is from that awesome restaurant in Brooklyn I raved about--the one where I had that killer other salad that spawned this recipe. I think it's worth checking making while you still feel like roasting vegetables. Oh--and do not waste that garlic that the recipe has you roast for the sole purpose of infusing the beets. Much less violent than anything above, you need to spread those cloves on hot, buttered baguette and sprinkle with sea salt and the roasted rosemary too for the garlic bread of your fantasies.

risotto-stuffed chard bundles with browned butter oyster mushrooms

 

These were the star of the night, and I should tell you, they shared a table with a banana cream pie.

It was Lana who reminded me that chard leaves make such pretty packaging, they look so special side by side. I saved the idea for a very special dinner, so I had lots of time to think through the rest of the details. Having made arancini, I knew that next-day risotto was full of flavour and would cooperate fully.

I debated spiking the bundles with cold pieces of butter to moisten the risotto while the bundles were being heated--and I encourage you to try this. But in the end I actually like the structure that a "firmer" risotto lends the bundles, which yeild and are creamy for sure, but you do get to cut into them. And while a mushoom risotto would be delicious, it's much nicer with the mushrooms on the outside. The oyster mushrooms get a little crisp around the edges when frying and in a browned butter sauce... I always encourage substitutions but I'm pretty damn excited about making this recipe again, exactly as is, if I do say so myself. I hope you love it too--but definitely share your tweaks with me too!

more herbs than you can shake a chef's knife at

As I mentioned in a recent article on iVillage Canada, I like to frequent farmer's markets and my mother pushes produce plucked from her thriving garden on me all summer long. Between the two, I thought I knew a thing or two about herbs. I've had to get creative to use up what was a bushel of tarragon. I have fresh, dry and frozen curry leaves in my house at this very moment and will soon be housing my own curry plant. But five minutes at the Union Square Market in NYC last month and I realized I haven't seen even a tiny fraction of all the herbs out there. One vendor sold no less than 25 different types of basil (basil!) so you can imagine that there were herbs on offer I'd never seen the likes of. 

You already know that my go-to way to use up herbs that are threatening to wilt in my fridge is to pile them all onto a pasta. It's surprising how an entire bunch of cilantro, chopped and added to warm pasta dressed in fried garlic, chilies and simply seasoned olive oil makes for one of the most satisfying dinners. And the news is also out that I can't have enough pesto in the summer and that I've discovered the joy of basically drinking herbs. Imagine the concoctions the people who live near Union Square come up with every week? And don't even get me started on the abundance of varieties of, well, everything else. See for yourself.

 

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...

herb soup w/ eggplant bacon...plus ABC kitchen (manhattan)

One day in late spring I was cooking so many things at once that my counter was covered in tough, outer baby artichoke leaves, leek tops and empty pea pods. I could have tossed them all out but I bagged them and shoved them in the freezer instead. Weeks later, I soaked the scraps in warm water to thaw them, rinsed them well, and along with some garlic they formed the flavor base of a fresh, cool spring soup in the heat of summer. After simmering for half an hour, I strained and discarded those dutiful misfits, lowered bundles of bright herbs in to add the top notes to my soup, then cooled it before serving.

While I was happy to use those scraps so well, the whole reason behind making this soup was to chop up what might seem like too many fresh herbs and serve them on top. I've been obsessed with the idea of sipping a soup and practically having to chew on fresh herbs since I had a similar experience at ABC Kitchen--their sweet pea soup had generous strands of mint floating on top of it. It wasn't overpowering at all, but it was such a memorable part of the soup.

Although the croutons in their soup were delicious, I think I chose an even better topping for mine, if I do say so myself. Remember that eggplant bacon I wrote about once? I skipped the fake stuff (liquid smoke) and instead brushed my eggplant with smoked paprika, oil and salt before roasting the slivers in the oven. I wasn't expecting them to come out looking anything like bacon, so I had to show you the picture below. How did the eggplant know what I wanted it to become?

Magic.

Everything at ABC Kitchen was wonderful--except for me. I had been dreaming of dining there for over a year, hearing nothing but rave reviews, tweets and "mmmm"'s and as I put on my dress to get ready...I almost threw up. Out of nowhere. Just not feeling so good. Le sigh... I did my best to literally grin and bear it but I only got through the first course. The soup was so good, it resonated despite my horrible state, but clearly I need a do-over as soon as possible. I can tell you that the pickled snacks they start you off with, the creative cocktails (I had only sips of them--that is how low I felt), the service and the stunning, rustic yet whimsical setting were without flaw. Get there if you can.

creamy kale salad, five leaves restaurant & other new york inspiration*

My friend Steph has been staying with me on and off for the past two weeks and in that time, she has requested this salad three times, on top of the two times I made it for her prior. She really likes this salad but to be fair, she also just really, really likes kale. I, on the other hand like kale, but am not as addicted to it as she is, and I can still honestly say that I still haven't got enough of this salad. I think you'll enjoy it just as much and you might have it on repeat in your house once you try it too.

Kale leaves are perfect for the very creamy, salty dressing that needs both a texture and a flavour that can stand up to it. It was inspired by a kale salad I had at Five Leaves in Brooklyn. I was in New York City a month ago and I was really looking forward to eating at Five Leaves, which had been on my list of restaurants to try when I was there in the fall of 2009. I ran out of time then, so I put it near the top of my list on my recent visit, and it's as laid back, cool and delicious a destination as I'd heard.

My friend, Lulu, and I loved everything we ordered there, and I indulged in this salad even though I usually stay away from dressings which contain anchovies, and theirs did. It was essentially a spicy kale Caesar salad with hazelnuts. In my version, olives and feta combine to make a umami-packed, very convincing faux-Caesar dressing. And the spice and nuts in their salad reminded me instantly of the nutty paprika oil from a recipe I created a year ago. It adds just the right finish and I highly recommend making the tiny extra effort. And that you visit Five Leaves if you ever get the chance. 

(Above Five Leaves, Brooklyn; their Chopped Black Kale.)

*As you'd expect, I was inspired by so many food experiences from my last visit to New York, so this week I'll be bringing you my favourite tastes. Hope you enjoy it! 

leaves please

Did I mention that I've been writing some pieces for iVillage Canada? I'm basically just daydreaming about things I like to eat and how I like to prepare them. At least once a year, around this time, I go a little nuts for lettuces. Yes. Leaves. Which sounds so boring and is actually so exciting, if you get to have really good leaves, picked very recently. If that's a new thing for you, get yourself to a local market, buy any leaves you'd liked, picked that morning, hopefully, and try them before you dismiss me as a nerd prone to exaggeration. I am both of those things, but I'm also right in this case.

Aside from gushing about leaves, I shared some salad ideas with them too, which I thought you might like to see here too...

Creamy kale salad, similar to a Caesar salad, is something I've been making and tweaking for weeks now. If you mince or smash a clove of garlic and let it sit in some extra-virgin olive oil while you prepare everything else, it will infuse just the right amount of flavour. Strain the garlic out before pureeing the oil with some soft goat cheese, lemon juice, salt and pepper for the creamiest, pale dressing to toss the kale leaves in. Top with any roasted nuts and some black olives--but I have a new spin on this salad that I'll share with you here very soon. My favourite version yet.
 
Years ago, I made a vegetarian spin of a famous Jamie Oliver salad -- his used prosciutto; mine uses Niçoise olives. Toss a mess of young arugula with a honey, lemon and black pepper dressing, add large basil leaves, quartered figs and torn, fresh mozzarella or bocconcini. It's an entertaining-worthy salad that will have you licking the bowl, a conundrum I'll let you sort out.
 
That great, green, leafy lettuce that I was gushing about hardly needs any primping if you're a fan like me. At most, I make a dressing that's 3-to-1 extra-virgin olive oil to vinegar, seasoned well. I've read that salt that sits in vinegar for a few minutes dissolves better into dressings, so that's what I do. A dab of mustard will help emulsify the vinaigrette, but the rule is that you must whisk the oil into the vinegar in a slow stream, not just shake a jar of your dressing really hard. (Do as I say, not as I do!)
 
Some advice on storing these leafy greens: They are delicate and have a limited life once picked, that's just how it is. When I get mine home I rinse them well, and then soak them in a lot of cold water. I lift them – trying not to disturb any dirt that sunk to the bottom – then I spin the leaves or lay them out on clean dish towels to dry completely. Getting them dry is key: dressing clings to dry leaves and if you're storing them for a day or two, dry leaves wrapped in some paper towels before being sealed in large plastic bags or containers will be just as beautiful as the day you bought them.

a random bit of spinach ricotta gnudi

There is such a thing as too much ricotta. For instance, you could buy a large amount for a dinner party that needs to be postponed or, in my case, a recipe test that gets put off. When you find yourself in either situation, you could always do as I did: thaw a package of frozen spinach and squeeze as much liquid out as possible. Mix it, the ricotta, two egg yolks, some seasoning (salt, pepper and a little nutmeg is traditional) and a little flour together. Take a tablespoon of your mixture and using floured hands, roll them into little, logs (imperfect ones are just fine), drop them into a small bowl of flour to keep them from sticking and place them on a baking sheet as you go.

Drop the finished batch into boiling, salted water and rescue them with a slotted spoon when they float to the top. You can transfer them into a waiting butter and sage sauce, but I prefer sauce of fried shallots swimming in olive oil spiked with lots of lemon. Your call.

winter stew

The thing I love most about eating the food other people make, especially watching them make it, is when they do things totally differently than I might have. When James is in the kitchen, he'll take vegetables I'm used to eating and make them taste refreshing different to me. I love this stew he's been making this winter because the paprika and dijon mustard he throws in keeps it from being bland or expected, yet I'm not sure that I could really pick either of those ingredients out when I eat it. It's also made creamy with the addition of milk at the end.

He serves it over couscous and he always makes extra for lunch. As with most stews, the leftovers are even better, so make more than you need too.

a random bite of greens, soy sesame dressing and tahini

If you live in Toronto, you've probably heard of the Fresh restaurant franchise. James owns a copy of their now out of print cookbook, Juice for Life, with recipes from the restaurant's early days. He made this dinner of steamed greens last week, with their soy sesame dressing drizzled on top. We made tahini in the food processor using a large handful of white sesame seeds, and I sprinkled cayenne pepper over top which I used to do at the restaurant too. With all of that and toasted nori on the side, this is so much more than a plain plate of greens. It's a damn good meal, there is SO much going on in every bite. He's making something similar again tonight--I can tell this is going to be a regular in our weeknight winter rotation. Lucky me!