FFwD: Where has all the time gone? (Scheduled Recipes)

Ugh.  Work is crazy, my house is a mess, and I haven't blogged in 2 weeks.  But, I have at least been doing my weekly Dorie cooking!

This one will be relatively short because a) I think I haven't blogged in part due to thinking of all I wanted to say and b) it has come to my attention that I'm a little, say, long-winded.  The one issue is that I have cooked a lot of recipes from the book recently, so I'm breaking the posts up into Scheduled and Non-Scheduled Recipes.

First up?  Scheduled Recipes!  I'll go in reverse chronological order; thus, we are beginning with the Beggar's Linguine.

Beggar's Linguine
Verdict: Fast, easy, and tasty.  But would I add it to the rotation?  No...it's a good every-now-and-then dish.

This is not a recipe I would've chosen to make on my own, unless I was in some weird mood, due to the preponderance of dried fruit (figs and raisins).  I'm just not a huge fan.  But, the sum is better than the constituent parts and I can see how this would be soul-warming when jet-lagged and cold.  I didn't alter the recipe at all, but for using penne because I forgot to buy linguine and for using 1 tbsp less of the butter because I really didn't feel like hunting up an extra stick just for that tablespoon.

Wine: I served it with a Burgundian Chardonnay from the Côte de Beaune.  Chardonnay is a really acidic grape, which of course makes it a wonderful food wine.  The French style really showcases the grape rather than the oak barrel or malolactic fermentation, so if you're a fan of big, buttery chards, this is not the wine for you.  I specifically chose a French Chardonnay precisely because the pasta itself is rather big and buttery and I wanted to complement, rather than match, that.  According to my guinea pigs, they agreed that a)the recipe was lovely and b) the wine paired quite well.

In the end?  The best part was the taste of the nutty butter.  Mmmmmm....

FFwD: Non-Scheduled Recipes that I Made in the last 2 Weeks

I'll keep this one pretty short, too.

The recipes I've made:
-Chicken in a Pot: the Lemon-Garlic Version
-Gateau Basque
-a non-Dorie recipe, Caramelized Apple Skillet Cake
-another non-Dorie recipe, Adult Cracker Jacks

FFwD: The Short Ribs Were So Good That I Can't Think of a Witty Title

Hi everyone!  I missed last week, even though I had all the ingredients.  It was the Grading Monster's fault: we were in an epic battle and I only won last Tuesday.  Unfortunately, we'll begin battle again tomorrow, though it'll be more of a skirmish this time.


Anyway, on to the Short Ribs!  This is the second time I've made short ribs.  The first time I made them they were really good, and I got the recipe from another excellent cookbook, Cooking School Secrets for Real World Cooks by Linda Carucci.  For that recipe, I used bone in short ribs and it was all very nice.  But, I've been (ahem) eating a bit too much since the holidays and I was wondering about using boneless short ribs, particularly since they sell them at Costco.  Lo and behold, Cooks Illustrated had already done their magic experiments and found that using boneless short ribs only had about 1/6 of the fat (comparison based upon how much they skimmed after it had cooled) AND the lack of bone marrow, et al did not create any appreciable loss in flavor.  What they did notice was a different texture, so they suggested adding 1/2 tsp of unflavored gelatin to the sauce, while the meat is resting separately, if need be.  Needless to say, I was sold.


How I Changed the Recipe, Which Was Kind of a Lot

FFwD: Comparing Apples and Oranges...er, Pears and Oranges

Hi everyone!  Oooh, this week was a great one--at least, in my opinion.  I've been baking for much of my life and never once have I made something that, when I looked at it, I (or anyone else) exclaimed, "It looks like something I'd have bought when I lived in Paris!" or "It looks like something you'd see in a bakery in Paris!"  Until I made the Orange-Almond tart, and then the Pear-Almond Tart.

But first?  Yesterday was a glorious day at my house.  No--I made the tart last week for a dinner party.  Instead, yesterday was the day that I picked up my local CSA box and found???

STRAWBERRIES.

Of course, the best part is that they taste like candy.

On a side, but related note, I'd like to lobby that we consider choosing somewhat seasonal recipes while doing this FFwD.  I don't know if some of you read about it, but Mexico has had some terrible freezes and Florida's "backup" crops are also not doing well.  That leaves mostly produce from California to tide over everyone's appetites for things like, well, strawberries, tomatoes, sweet/bell peppers, and green beans.  What that also leaves is we the consumers with an ever-emptying wallet due to the expected huge hike in produce prices.

Now, enough of that serious (and rather depressing) stuff.

The TART!
I made the Orange version of this just before I decided to join FFwD.  It looked good, I had some extra time, and a crap-ton (that's a technical term) of oranges from my CSA box.  Suffice it to say, it was amazing.  I reluctantly let my oranges dry for a few hours, not because I didn't trust Dorie, but because I didn't want to wait the long(!).  It is a technique I'll continue to use as it really is successful in upping the flavor factor of the oranges while also avoiding the whole liquid in the almond cream problem.

One of the big things I'd like to share with you all is a recipe for ALMOND FLOUR.  

French Fridays with Dorie: When a Tortilla is Not a Tortilla

I suppose I should give full disclosure right up front: I'm Basque by heritage (well, with some Italian and Croatian thrown in for good "even tempered" measure).  I've been to the Basque country, for my honeymoon(!), and I have two things I'd like to share.

1. In the "Bonne Idée" when DG writes that this comes from "the land of ham"?  She ain't kiddin'.  I was dying for some chicken by the time we finished traveling around that part of Spain and France (and northern Portugal too, for that matter).  Talk about a departure from Mediterranean cuisine!  It was good and all, but at times I felt like I was the guy from Forrest Gump: pork/ham sandwiches, pork/ham po' boys, braised pork, pork bacon,  pork lardons, pork prosciutto, etc.  In retrospect, that trip may have been why I didn't really cook pork for a year or so, other than bacon (of course).

2. One of my favorite stories to tell is about our arrival into the Basque country at our hotel in San Sebastian.  We have been flying for many hours, from the Western US to Madrid, via NY, and then on to Bilbao where we picked up our rental car.  I'll add here that we got a super deal and paid only 400 dollars per ticket.  Yes, that's right.  400 per ticket, including taxes, because of a constellation of reasons (just after 9/11 and an airline decided to go international to the US right then).  Anyway, we drove the hour or so to San Sebastian and headed up to our hotel overlooking the bay and the entire city.  It was one of our splurge nights and I had requested for there to be a bottle of sparkling wine in our room.  Apparently, we arrived a bit earlier than they expected, even though it was already 5 pm local time.  This rather austere looking woman was speaking to my husband, who's fluent in Spanish (and I mean fluent--not that "I can get around" type of fluent), and she asks what type of sparkling we'd like: a champagne or a cava.  My partner in life told her that, since we were in Spain, it would be fitting to have a Spanish wine.  As we are both grinning the now severe-looking woman replied, "You are not in Spain.  You are in the Basque Country."  Whoops!  That's the way to endear yourself to the locals!  It's likely a better story in person, but you get the picture.  It was awkward.

There it is.  Also, these are some of my people and I'm super excited to see that I can order the cerises noires online!  Now I can make the cookbook's Gateau Basque and not worry that I'm using my one and only jar that I got from France.

On to the dish!  This week's recipe was a Basque Tortilla, which is really not a tortilla.  It's like a frittata.  I keep threatening to look up the etymology of the word "tortilla" so that I can understand why/how/if the Spanish egg version came first and why the floury/corny Mexican tortilla has the same name.  I clearly have yet to do so. 

The things I did differently: 

French Fridays with Dorie In Which I Ponder Phyllo: Bane of My Existence or Harbinger of Zen Meditation?

Well, and here we are again!  I tell you, I am loving this French Fridays with Dorie thing.  Everyone has been so wonderful and I am really enjoying being involved in something like this.  I joined this group because I was haphazardly going through the cookbook and I desired something a bit more ordered.  This?  Perfect!

This week: A Moroccan chicken potpie-ish dish called Chicken B'stilla.  I'll start off by saying that this is not out of my comfort zone.  It's more that I just don't make Moroccan food very often.

I read the P&Q post and saw that some people were asking about wine pairing.  Well, I contributed, though a bit late, and mentioned that I do like Rhône Varietals with Moroccan food--but not just any old Rhône varietal.  I prefer Mourvèdre first, then (maybe) Grenache.

I was thinking all about the wines and what would pair best, etc., and then I came up with MY BEST PLAN EVER!  Instead of going out to dinner like we were supposed to, I'd make the B'stilla one day earlier than planned AND I'd open up 3 or 4 different bottles of wine so we could compare!  Tell me: what is the downside here?

So, I made some phone calls and that became the plan.

(I'll leave the wine section for another post that is directly below this one.  Those who could care less about wine can just skip it.)

Thank goodness it was my at home day.  I started marinating the chicken, first mixing the onions and spices all together to really coat the onions, and then adding the chicken.  Also, any excuse to use my Staub casserole is fine by me:

Let me tell you, it smelled really good in my kitchen.

With the next step, when I braised the chicken, the aromas became more pronounced and I could even smell them outside (it was a lovely 75 degrees here, by the way).  Mmmmm.

I made the mixture of chicken and onions, and then made the sauce.  I followed Katrina's suggestion on the P&Q.  It's something I know to do, but would've just blindly followed the recipe anyway (yes, even after what happened with the cake last week).  She mentions that you need to temper the eggs, so as I madly whisked the eggs and honey I added in 1/3 of the broth reduction in a thin stream until it was all incorporated.  Then I added all of that in a thin stream to the rest of the reduction still in the hot pan on the stove.  That way, I didn't have any scrambling of the eggs when they were added to something that was super hot.  One more thing: I made sure my eggs were room temperature so that it would minimize the temp difference as much as possible.

Here is the sauce all mixed together, right before I started whisking it until the whisk "left tracks":

Yes, my stovetop is dirty.  I hang my head in shame.

Then, my chicken and sauce mixture.  At this point, I would've stopped and finished the rest the next day.  Instead, I carried on.  It was for science, right?  Well...the science of wine...?

Now, though.  Now is when we come to the philosophical questions inherent in any dish that uses phyllo/fillo/filo dough.  I think many of them are unanswerable.  For example: is there any package of phyllo dough that doesn't have at least one sheet that will rip no matter how careful you are?  If we find said perfect package, have we reached nirvana?  I, personally, have a love-hate relationship with the stuff.  I love it and its buttery, flaky goodness.  I hate it because there's always at least one sheet that rips no matter how carefully I do all of the damp towel, open like a book, whatever else that they tell us to do.  I love it because even with all of that it's fairly forgiving.  I hate it when I'm worried about it not being forgiving while I'm in the thick of preparing it.  Ultimately I have decided that I should approach it in a more zen-like manner.  Phyllo will do these things--it will rip and look ridiculously rumpled and unprofessional--and that is okay.  I shall take it in stride, but still remain focused.  In the end, I'd much rather contemplate phyllo and its issues than all of my regular stressors.  So, there it is.

With all of that said, I still got irritated.  HA!  Here's my finished B'stilla base, wherein 2--yes, 2 of the 4--of those be-damned sheets ripped!

I used the almonds.

And here's the pie-ish thingy before I did the top crust:

The next part was kind of fun!  I used a pan lid as a guide to cut a large circle for the top crust and tucked it in like making a bed.  Or something.

Here that is: 

With a light sprinkling of cinnamon-sugar just before going into the oven.

I then had to wait 40 minutes.  By this point, I think my husband had fallen asleep in front of the TV and I was starving.  Those of you in this group know--this is not really difficult to make, it just takes a lot of time!

But, then!  Oh, then!  The timer went off and it smelled sooo good.  And it was pretty.

While that cooled off for 5 minutes, and while my husband wandered in looking groggy (and then began salivating all over the pie) I made the lemon-steamed spinach recipe as a side.

Here's the plate as I was staving off the hungry beast behind me:

The result?  YUMMY!  The B'stilla is really a wonderful dish and it's so rich that you don't have to eat too much of it.  Also, that lemon-steamed spinach is really great.  I'm not a huge fan of steamed spinach, but this was the best I've ever had.

Now that's done, WHAT ABOUT THE WINE?  

You'll have to see the WINE POST!

French Fridays with Dorie: Wherein I Raid the Wine Cellar . . . er, Closet . . . well, Part of the Closet

If you don't mind, I shall now take a brief foray away from the food to talk about the wine.  For the Rhône area, there are a ton of varietals.  This isn't like Burgundy where you basically have the two famous ones, Chardonnay and Pinot Noir, with a little Gamay and Pinot Gris thrown in for good measure.  No, there's something like 22!  The three most common, however, are usually found in Rhône blends: Grenache, Syrah, and Mourvèdre.  If you ever see a wine that's called GSM, then it is signifying those three grapes.  Syrah is a lovely, lovely grape, but I feel it's too heavy for this chicken dish.  Grenache is also quite wonderful--it's fruity and not overly tannic.  Used to soften the blends, Grenache could work well, but might be a tad too fruity for the sweet spices.  Mourvèdre--with its spicy, floral, and fruity bouquet as well as its tannins--is just really nice with Moroccan chicken dishes because it has both the fruit and the structure to complement and stand up to the spiciness without overwhelming the chicken.  (That last is my own opinion based upon past experiences, but I'm always open to changing my mind--hence this experiment!)

Also, in the US, the area that has become best known for its Rhone Varietals is California's Central Coast, extending from Paso Robles (and even Monterey, depending on who you're talking to) in the north and Santa Barbara in the south.  There are a profound number of microclimates in the region, with a huge array of wines being made from French and Italian grapes, but suffice it to say that they distinguish themselves from Napa/Sonoma's primary emphasis on Bordeaux varietals.

I opened three wines: a Malvasia Bianca from Palmina Cellars; a 2007 Alto Moncayo Garnacha; and a 2006 Mourvèdre from Carina Cellars.

The White Wine

I chose the Malvasia Bianca because it has the florals and fruity aromas that are also characteristic of a dry Riesling.  The wine went okay with the food, but I'd have preferred something drier.  I could tell there was a fair amount of residual sugar in this, at least to my taste, and together with the sweet spices in the B'stilla, it made everything seem really sweet.  

At one point, my husband was saying how we wasn't sure about this dish because it was "so sweet."  I pointed out that the only sugar in it was on top, and that was very little!  I surmised that it was all the "sweet" spices--cinnamon and ginger--that our brains associate with sugar that was causing him to say it was sweet.  It's the same thing when people sip wine and they say, "I don't like sweet wine" when the wine is actually quite dry.  They're tasting the fruit and mistaking it for sugar.

The Garnacha

This Alto Moncayo Garnacha runs about $45.  They have a lower version for about $20 (Veraton) and the ultimate version costs about $125 (Aquilon).  We've found that the middle one has the best Quality-Price Ratio.  It's really one of our favorite wines.  Alto Moncayo has some excellent fruit aromas that are also available on the palate--blackberry, and other candied dark fruits--and the acidity seems to be teetering right where it's a great sippy wine as well as a fine food wine.  There's some oak, though not overpowering, and there's also a bit of minerality that at times lessens the power of the fruit (this is not a bad thing).

We love this wine.  I'll wait to say what we thought after I discuss...

The Mourvèdre

We've had this in our "cellar," the part of a spare room closet that can hold our cases of wine, for at least 3 years.  I decanted it for 2 hours before dinner.  This wine had some nice fruits and florals, blackberries and violets, and some smoky/tar-y stuff going on, but also had some nice spice with the pepper, cloves, and vanilla.  A nice long finish due to the tannins.  I really like Mourvèdre in general and I think it's pretty darned unappreciated.

The Winner?

Hmmm...

The Garnacha was nice, but frankly all of the fruit together with the sweet spices of the B'stilla made it all a bit one-note for me.  I wanted some more complementary flavors.

The Mourvèdre had the fruit there, but with the added smoke and spice (as well as that looooong finish), really kicked it over the top.  We both agreed that Mourvèdre is just right for Moroccan chicken dishes.    YAY!

If you can find a Mourvèdre, you might want to give it a try.  With food, though, so that you can better appreciate it.  Some people are turned off by some gaminess on the nose, so be aware of that, too.