Tomato Kumato

April 30, 2009

Watermelon and Feta Salad with Cucumber and Mint

Filed under: Appetizers, Side Dishes — Tags: , , , , — emiglia @ 8:32 pm

One summer, a few years back, some family friends came to stay with us on our house on Long Island.

I was pickier then: still not picky, but definitely not the adventurous eater I am now. A salad much like this one appeared on our table one afternoon while we BBQed: watermelon, scallions, cheese, lettuce… a mix of very strange ingredients, and not one that I was intrigued to try. I was just about to pass over it, when Celeste–the woman who had made it and who had served as a second mother for me the entire time we lived in the same building and her son and I were playmates–heaped a spoonful on my plate.

At this point in my life, I was quite opposed to the idea of mixing sweet with savory, especially in main dishes (i.e. salted caramel-okay, duck à l’orange-no, thanks.) But it was already on my plate, edging its way over to where my perfect corn on the cob was, and so I took a bite.

It was heavenly: I never imagined that salty feta and sweet watermelon could ever produce such a harmonious mix, but they did. I ate every bit of that salad, going back for more two or three times.

I asked my mother time and time again to get me the recipe. For years, I waited, requesting it as my “coming home” meal when I arrived on Long Island each summer. But alas, each year my prayers went unanswered, and each year, I ended up heading back to school without having had my fill of that salad.

A few days ago, as I perused the market at Bercy right before it closed, I had a watermelon nearly handed to me. A woman, ready to rid her stall of the last few things so she could pack up and go home, was offering a few 500 gram barquettes of strawberries, bananas or kiwis and quarters of massive red watermelons for one euro apiece. I try very had not to succumb to the urge to take advantage of deals at the market–I end up with more produce than I know what to do with–but this deal was too good to pass up. I settled on strawberries and watermelon, and as I carried them back home, it took all my willpower not to devour them there in the street.

I had already been at my favorite cheesemonger earlier (remind me to tell you about him soon… he’s my new favorite person in the world, this week), and amongst my selection of cheeses sat a block of feta, wrapped first in plastic and then in paper to keep it from dripping all over the rest of my cheeses. I knew immediately when I tucked the watermelon and strawberries into my bag what I would be making for lunch.

I still never received the recipe from my mother. I had searched in vain for the same recipe online, but none of them had the same ingredients, the same combination I remembered. I decided to wing it, and what I ended up with is even better than the salad I remember.

I got rid of the onions and lettuce: all they did was get in the way. I made a simple dressing from the juice of a lime and a bit of extra virgin olive oil (use the good stuff for a salad like this), seasoned simply with salt and pepper. The market had also provided me with a fresh mint plant, and so that was put to good use too: a generous chiffonade sprinkled over the top. I knew that I would need something else: something neutral to play off the sweetness of the watermelon and the tangy saltiness of the feta. Cucumber seemed to be the perfect foil, and so in it went.

The result is the perfect summer salad: bright and flavorful with lots of color. It’s great as I first had it: a side dish at a summer BBQ, but for me, it also makes the perfect stand-alone lunch, a great way to ring in the spring and hope for summer’s swift arrival.

This is my entry for this month’s FIC: Red and Green. I’m slipping in just under the deadline, but if you want to contribute your own post, you have until the end of today!

Watermelon and Feta Salad with Cucumber and Mint

Note: A key element of this salad is fresh herbs: I’m a huge advocate for the ease of dried ones, but it’s definitely not worth it in this case. If you don’t have mint, feel free to use basil instead. If you have neither, you can use mint oil. If you have none of the above, omit the ingredient entirely.

1/4 watermelon, diced into bite-sized chunks
1/2 cucumber
2 oz. feta cheese, crumbled (I like to leave the feta in rather large chunks: personal preference)
1 lime
1 Tbsp. extra virgin olive oil (I beg of you, break out the good stuff: it makes all the difference)
4-5 fresh mint leaves, chiffonade
salt and pepper

Slice the half cucumber down the middle and then cut each half so that you have a pile of half-moons about a half-inch wide. Toss the cucumber and the diced melon in a large salad bowl. Sprinkle the cheese on top, and season with salt and black pepper. Drizzle the olive oil and the juice of the lime over the top. Sprinkle the chiffonade of mint leaves on top of the salad as a garnish.

The colors of the salad look best before tossing, so if you’re making this for company, I recommend serving like this and tossing at the table. Alternatively, you can toss the watermelon and cucumber with the oil, lime juice, salt and pepper and then add the cheese and mint at the end.

April 29, 2009

So-Good-You-Could-Bathe-In-It Onion Confit

Filed under: Side Dishes — Tags: , , — emiglia @ 8:57 am

In the two years that I’ve lived in Paris, both of my mother’s sisters have come to visit, and both of them have had the experience that is dining at Chez Fernand.

I’m sure the main dishes here are lovely, but I’ve been three times, and all three times, I only have eyes for one thing: the pâté de campagne with onion confit.

This onion confit is so good you could bathe in it… or at least… I could. It’s sweet and savory and buttery and tangy… it’s perfection in a sweet glass jar that they bring to the table, alongside a bowl of cornichons. Seriously, I just want a jar of that and the check, please.

I can’t afford to go out all the time, so one night, when Alex and I were having cheese for dinner (as we do every so often), I decided to try and make some of this onion confit for myself.

I was going off instinct, so I have no idea if this is the correct way to make onion confit, but I don’t care. The onion confit police can arrest me: I want this to be my last meal.

I’m offering this onion recipe up for the Just Get Floury call for onion recipes. A lot of recipes feature onions, but this is one of the few that has onions as one of the only ingredients.

Because I made this up as I went, the recipe is a bit free-form, and that’s OK! I’m going to offer you what I did, but you should feel free to tweak as you see fit, until you come up with a confit that is good enough to bathe in. Or… you know… serve, like a normal person, with an arrangement of pâtés and cheeses.

So-Good-You-Could-Bathe-In-It Onion Confit

Thinly slice 4-5 yellow onions. Heat a ridiculous amount of butter (maybe 3-4 tablespoons) in a skillet over low heat and add the onions and some salt. Allow them to cook and caramelize, stirring every so often. I like to add a tablespoon of white sugar to help the caramelization process along, but if you’re using sweet onions, this is probably unnecessary. When the onions are brown and start to smell amazing, open a bottle of dry white wine and pour yourself a glass. Then pour a bit into the pan with the onions and scrape the bits from the bottom. Allow the onions to simmer in the wine, adding more as the liquid evaporates until the onions have dissolved into a sticky, sweet delicious mess. Take a spoon and eat. Or serve in a more distinguished manner… I won’t judge.

April 27, 2009

Daring Bakers: Cheesecake

Filed under: Cake Day, Daring Bakers — Tags: , , , — emiglia @ 6:14 pm


The April 2009 challenge is hosted by Jenny from Jenny Bakes. She has chosen Abbey’s Infamous Cheesecake as the challenge.
When I was in my first year of college, I spent a lot of my food budget on Philadelphia cream cheese. I spread it on bagels, on toast, mixed it into my pasta and mashed potatoes and added it to my baked goods. I couldn’t get enough of the stuff.

Moving to France meant giving up on my bagels, not to mention my Philadelphia. But when the Daring Bakers announced that this month’s challenge would be cheesecake, I went searching.

I went to every store I could think of, and the closest thing I came up with was Philadelphia light, imported from Switzerland and extremely expensive. But it had never even crossed my mind to sit this challenge out: I love cheesecake, and so I did a little bit of subsituting.


I was nervous to make a plain cheesecake: on the one hand, there are very strong opinions on cheesecake–opinions that I share–that state that any cheesecake that’s worthwhile can stand on its own. On the other hand, if I wasn’t going to be using the same base ingredient: cream cheese, how could I expect it to turn out right?

I had tried a more expensive version of this fromage à tartiner that I found at Monoprix, but I had never tried this version before. Because I didn’t want it to be an expensive mistake if, in fact, making cheesecake without the appropriate cheese turned out to be a mistake, I went with this version and added a container of mascarpone cheese, because really, when in doubt, more cheese is always the way to go.

Before mixing the ingredients together, I tasted the fromage à tartiner: it wasn’t quite as cheesy as Philadelphia is, so I made sure to add the lemon juice as expressed in the recipe.

All good… right? Well… not quite.

The other requisite part of cheesecake is the crust, which is usually made out of graham crackers. Guess what? No graham crackers in France. I decided to use speculoos, a Belgian spice cookie, instead.

To mirror the flavors in the cookie (and to cover up any mistakes I might make), I decided to make two sauces: one was simply strawberries mascerated in sugar with fresh basil, and the other was a chocolate ganache infused with cinnamon and cayenne pepper. Both were tasty, but the strawberries ended up pairing better with the cheesecake. The chocolate, I will save for later adventures.

OK, good. So there’s cheesecake and there’s crust. I’m making mini cheesecakes because I have a fear of large cakes. I put the pan in the oven, wait for it to bake (I baked for about 20 minutes), then wait for it to cool in the oven, then, finally… it’s time to take them out…

*BOOM*

Cheesecake on the floor. Under the oven. On the oven. On my foot. In the vaccuum cleaner tube. I let off a string of words that sent Alex into the living room to hide from me. I would directly quote myself, but sometimes my mom reads this blog, and I do have some shame.

Luckily, the taste didn’t suffer. I served up the two that had been injured the most in the fall (put them out of their misery and whatnot), and as the second batch baked up, we finished off the first. Alex and I decided that French cheese, speculoos, and a death-defying drop from the oven does not a ruined cheesecake make.

Abbey’s Infamous Cheesecake

I’ve included my changes in parentheses next to the original recipe. Please note that the baking instructions are for a full-sized cake. For mini cheesecakes, bake 20 minutes and allow to cool for about half an hour in the oven before finishing cooling on the tabletop and then removing from the pan.
crust:
2 cups / 180 g graham cracker crumbs (I used speculoos)
1 stick / 4 oz butter, melted
2 tbsp. / 24 g sugar (I did not add the extra sugar)
1 tsp. vanilla extract (I did not add the vanilla)

cheesecake:
24 oz. (680 g.) cream cheese (I used 450 g. of fromage à tartiner and 200 g. of mascarpone)
1 cup / 210 g sugar (I used 3/4 cup)
3 large eggs
1 cup / 8 oz heavy cream (I used crème fraîche… it’s cheaper here than liquid cream)
1 tbsp. lemon juice
1 tbsp. vanilla extract (or the innards of a vanilla bean)

DIRECTIONS:
1. Preheat oven to 350 degrees F (Gas Mark 4 = 180C = Moderate heat). Begin to boil a large pot of water for the water bath.

2. Mix together the crust ingredients and press into your preferred pan. You can press the crust just into the bottom, or up the sides of the pan too - baker’s choice. Set crust aside.

3. Combine cream cheese and sugar in the bowl of a stand-mixer (or in a large bowl if using a hand-mixer) and cream together until smooth. Add eggs, one at a time, fully incorporating each before adding the next. Make sure to scrape down the bowl in between each egg. Add heavy cream, vanilla, lemon juice, and alcohol and blend until smooth and creamy.

4. Pour batter into prepared crust and tap the pan on the counter a few times to bring all air bubbles to the surface. Place pan into a larger pan and pour boiling water into the larger pan until halfway up the side of the cheesecake pan. If cheesecake pan is not airtight, cover bottom securely with foil before adding water.

5. Bake 45 to 55 minutes, until it is almost done - this can be hard to judge, but you’re looking for the cake to hold together, but still have a lot of jiggle to it in the center. You don’t want it to be completely firm at this stage. Close the oven door, turn the heat off, and let rest in the cooling oven for one hour. This lets the cake finish cooking and cool down gently enough so that it won’t crack on the top. After one hour, remove cheesecake from oven and lift carefully out of water bath. Let it finish cooling on the counter, and then cover and put in the fridge to chill. Once fully chilled, it is ready to serve.

April 26, 2009

Foodbuzz 24, 24, 24: Iron Chef

Filed under: 24, Appetizers, Chicken, Pie, Side Dishes — Tags: , , , — emiglia @ 11:29 am

And now for something completely different.

As many of you who read this blog regularly probably know, I am a recent university graduate. I graduated a semester early, which means that most of my friends here in Paris are still in college. There is a stereotype when it comes to college parties: kegs, togas, etc, but that’s not what we typically do for fun around here.

We have Iron Chef competitions.

The contestants are always me and my friend Matt. Katrina is our organizer, but she is a self-proclaimed cook of two things: tortillas and a German dish that I can’t pronounce, much less spell, and so she and Alex are always two of our judges.

We have to find a third for each competition, and this time around, it was Alex’s friend Brigitte, who, along with Alex, helped document the occasion with photos.

Before I continue, I need to make a quick note about the photos. Because I was cooking, I couldn’t very well be taking pictures at the same time, so Alex and Brigitte took care of that. You all remember what it was like when you first started dealing with macros and varying light sources, so please be forgiving of blur and color imbalances. I’ll try to make up for it with my eloquent prose. Or something like that.

The way Iron Chef works is quite simple: each of us puts in a little bit of money, and Katrina goes to the store to get materials: the secret ingredient, as well as a collection of other things we can use. There is always some form of meat (for this round, we each got a whole fryer) as well as a variety of fresh produce, pantry items and dairy products. I always allow the use of my oil, spices, flour and sugar. In addition, Matt and I each select two ingredients in advance that we will have for ourselves and will not share with one another: Matt chose cream and rice noodles, and I had canned peaches and crème fraîche.
And this week’s ingredient was…

Marrons entiers! Whole cooked chestnuts.

From the moment the ingredient is revealed, we each have fifteen minutes to plan out our meals: three courses including an appetizer, a main and a dessert. After the fifteen minutes of planning time, we have an hour and a half to cook under the watchful eye of the judges, who will later judge in five categories: food, costume, kitchen skills, use of the ingredient and x-factor.

Matt washes his hands: points for kitchen skills!

Katrina is camera shy.

Matt and I have very different cooking styles as well as different ways of approaching the contest. I always plan everything out from the very beginning. For this round, I knew that we would each have a whole chicken to work with, so I planned on roasting it and then came up with a chestnut stuffing to go with it. I also knew that I wanted to make a pie, so I was able to make the crust in the beginning and refrigerate it while I worked on other things.


Matt is much more free-form with the way he develops his menu. “I don’t know what I’m doing til it’s done, basically. Every time I do it, it’s like… the secret ingredient is something I don’t know or haven’t worked with before. I write down what I want to do in the beginning, but as I go, it changes.”

Our final menus were:

Emiglia

Potato-Chestnut Soup with Caramelized Onion-Chestnut Garnish and Goat Cheese Croutons

Roasted Chicken with Chestnut Stuffing

Raspberry-Pear Tart with Chestnut Purée


Matt

Goat Cheese and Chestnut Crostini with Dried Cranberries

Chicken Stir Fry with Rice Noodles

Chestnut Rice Pudding

A big part of the competition is the costumes… your costume amounts to one-fifth of your total score. Mostly, our costumes become characters. This time around, Matt was the son of the devil, and I was a hippie. We tried to stay in character while the judges (mostly Katrina) asked us questions as we cooked, much like Alton Brown does in the American version of the television show.

Because you only have a certain amount of time to work, preparation is everything. In my tiny kitchen, this is even more of a challenge. Something like a pie, which I made, is difficult to get right because we only have one oven to share between two people. It’s easier to control the cooking of something like a stir-fry, which Matt chose to make.

While Matt and I cooked, Katrina, Brigitte and Alex watched and drank (it’s dinner theater at home!) Alex and Brigitte also took pictures. I realized that Alex must have been watching me take my food pictures closer than I thought. He, like me, snapped about twenty pictures of each item.

He especially liked to take close-up shots of the chestnuts,

close-ups of Matt expertly butchering the whole chicken,

and close-ups of me chopping things. Basically a lot of close-ups.

I wonder where he gets it?

Half-way through the competition, Matt offers the crowd the leftover topping for his crostini. This gets him a lot of x-factor points.

The pressure is on… time’s nearly up!
When the hour and a half is up, we serve our food to everyone.

After which, the judges have to judge. Katrina liked the soup I made and the rice pudding that Matt made. She also liked the stuffing that came with the chicken. I got points for staying in character while cooking. Verdict: Emiglia

Brigitte liked the soup too (in fact, the soup just got points all around.) She really liked Matt’s presentation of his appetizer: he put lit matches into whole chestnuts when he brought out the dish. Verdict: Matt

Alex liked pretty much everything he ate: he was happy that we both used the goat’s cheese (put cheese on anything and Alex is happy). He liked Matt’s character (the devil’s son). In the end, though, he wasn’t crazy about the stir-fry (some of the rice noodles were uncooked) or the chestnut purée that went on top of the pie that I made. It took him awhile, but he finally made his decision after deciding that he preferred Matt’s crostini topping raw rather than cooked. Verdict: Emiglia

It’s interesting the way that a contest like this changes my approach to cooking. Usually, especially when baking, I make sure to carefully measure everything before starting and to double check my recipes. I realized during this contest that it’s not always necessary: I was able to make pie crust from scratch au feeling just because I’ve made it before and I know what it should look like.

I end up cooking mostly with instinct: I know that chestnuts, chicken and sage go well together, so I build off of that knowledge. I also know that cream and cheese make things better, which is how so much cream made it into my soup (it was delicious, but definitely not the sort of thing I would make for a regular weeknight dinner).

Sometimes, it doesn’t work out: my chestnut purée wasn’t the perfect match with the pie. It may have gone better with something chocolate. A lot of things turn out surprisingly well, and we learn how to use a new ingredient, which is always fun. Because of the free-form way that we cooked, I can’t really offer you any recipes: everything we made was fairly simple. Instead, I can give you basic ingredient lists for the things that were made.

Potato-Chestnut Soup with Caramelized Onion-Chestnut Garnish and Goat Cheese Croutons- onions, potato, salt, pepper, chestnuts, crème fraîche, goat’s cheese (soup), caramelized onions, butter, salt, pepper, chestnuts (garnish)

Roasted Chicken with Chestnut Stuffing- chicken, butter, salt, pepper, herbes de provence (chicken), bread, crème fraîche, milk, sage, salt, pepper, chestnuts, onion

Raspberry-Pear Tart with Chestnut Purée- butter, salt, crème fraîche, flour (crust), raspberries, canned pears, sugar, mascarpone cheese (tart), chestnuts, mascarpone, sugar, crème fraîche (purée)

Goat Cheese and Chestnut Crostini with Dried Cranberries- goat’s cheese, chestnuts, tarragon, salt, pepper, bread, Craisins

Chicken Stir Fry with Rice Noodles- chicken, tarragon, cream, Worcestershire sauce, honey, onions, garlic, mushrooms, leeks, rice noodles

Chestnut Rice Pudding- cooked rice, cream, mascarpone, cinnamon, chestnuts, sugar

At any rate, Iron Chef is a really fun way to get friends together and enjoy a meal. I love being a contestant: this is the second time I’ve been one, and it’s a really fun way to challenge yourself. I know that next time, I’d love to be on the other side, taking the pictures!

April 25, 2009

Jaegerschnitzel with Spaetzle

Filed under: Pork, Side Dishes — Tags: , , — emiglia @ 7:27 am

Writing about my grandfather in yesterday’s post reminded me of this recipe, something that he’d be far more likely to eat than the healthy stuff I posted yesterday. After all, it doesn’t get much better than fried pork.

I write a lot about my father’s family, the Italian side. My Italian relatives have always been very loud and very Italian-American, and they so fit a certain stereotype that they’ve become easy to write about. Also, considering the fact that this is a food blog and the Italian-American food culture is so strong, I have been pretty one-sided in my depictions of my family: my mother’s side is a combination of German and Irish-American, and I don’t take as much of my culinary influence from them.

My mother’s older sister, Anne, came to visit me a few weeks ago, and we spent a lot of time talking and trading recipes: she’s famous in our family for her Christmas cookies, which she makes from old family recipes that she’s kept forever (thank you thank you thank you!!!), but she’s also an accomplished cook, something that I haven’t really been able to experience first-hand too often.

A lot of our family recipes from that side of the family got lost when my grandfather’s aunt, Lily, threw them out when her oven stopped working. Most of us would just call the building’s super to have it fixed, but she never even considered this: there was a fear in that generation of new immigrants from Germany; if they didn’t start trouble, their risk of being considered a nuisance or, even worse, deported, was less. It’s sad to think that that sort of thing entered into their consciousness on a daily basis, but it did.

Luckily, certain recipes survive just through repetition. This is not my family’s recipe for schnitzel: my aunt makes Wiener schnitzel for my grandfather whenever she visits for the weekend, and I have yet to acquire that recipe. This Jaeger schnitzel (made with pork instead of veal) is much less expensive and just as delicious.

As you can see, I still have some work to do when it comes to making spaetzle, but you can also serve this with cucumber salad and red cabbage, which is the way we eat it at home anyway. Some things are better left untouched and traditional.

Jaegerschnitzel (adapted from Culinography)
1/4 cup all-purpose flour
salt and pepper
1/4 to 1/2 cup extra crunchy breadcrumbs
1 egg
1 Tbsp. milk
2 pork chops
1 tablespoon extra virgin olive oil

lemon juice, for serving
Mix flour, salt and pepper in one bowl, and pour the breadcrumbs into another. In third bowl, whisk egg and add milk. Set all three aside.

Trim pork and place in a plastic bag. Pound until flat and even. Dredge each piece in flour, then dip in egg, then in breadcrumbs. Heat oil in a skillet over medium-high heat and, when hot, add pork. Reduce heat slightly and allow to cook for 3-4 minutes until golden on one side. Flip and cook for an additional 2-3 minutes until golden and cooked through.

Serve with wedges of lemon.

April 24, 2009

A Big Bowl of Vegetables

Filed under: Beans and Legumes, Vegetarian Main Dishes — Tags: , , — emiglia @ 6:57 am

Sometimes, I just crave a big bowl of vegetables.

The term was first coined by my long-time-vegetarian-finally-turned-omnivore friend while we backpacked through Europe after we graduated high school. The cheapest and easiest foods to buy while traveling are not necessarily fresh produce, and by the end of our five weeks, she had us all fantasizing about carrots and tomatoes and fresh corn.

I still go into “big bowl of vegetables” mode, usually after a week like this one, where somehow I ended up eating things like fast food pizza (guilty pleasure) and vast amounts of cheese (no guilt whatsoever).

This vegetable moussaka is actually a combination of two moussaka recipes I found at Almost Turkish. The first was a layered and baked version, which I liked the look of, however I didn’t want the meat portion: I was in big bowl of vegetable mode. The second was a chickpea and zucchini Turkish style moussaka, which is really more of a stew than the Greek-inspired layered versions. I put the two together, and what I got was this: a big, layered tray of vegetables that perfectly satisfied my need for a filling meal that was low in fat and high in vitamins and minerals.

This moussaka is also my entry into the third round of Cooking to Combat Cancer. I have never participated in this event before, but for the past year, my family has been dealing with my grandfather’s battle with cancer, something I have not mentioned on this blog.

My grandfather is an amazingly strong man: when I was growing up, he was already in his sixties, and weekends found him “weaseling” in the woods, complete with a pipe and overalls, trundling in and out with wheelbarrows filled with branches and leaves. Now, he is in his eighties, and he has undergone severe chemotherapy and radiation as part of his cancer treatment. He has been lucky to keep his hair and to not suffer much from nausea as many people do. Mostly, his therapy just makes him tired, and he and my grandmother have taken to eating dinner in front of the television so that he can stay on the couch with a blanket.

This dish has tomatoes, legumes and onions and garlic, all of which are cancer-fighting foods. There is also no knife-and-fork action to deal with, which makes it easy to eat in front of the TV.

If you’d like to participate in this event, you have until April 29th to send in your entries. More information can be found at Mele Cotte.

Zucchini Moussaka (inspired by Almost Turkish)

1 Tbsp. olive oil
2 cloves garlic, minced
1 onion, diced
1 can (800 g.) whole tomatoes
1 can (800 g.) chickpeas, drained
1 tsp. dried mint
1 tsp. dried oregano
1 zucchini, sliced into rounds
1 oz. feta cheese, crumbled
salt and pepper
Preheat the oven to 400 degrees.
Heat the olive oil over medium heat in a large, heavy bottomed pot. Add the onion and a pinch of salt and cook 2-3 minutes, until soft. Add the garlic, and cook until fragrant, about one minute. Add the tomatoes and chickpeas and cook until the chickpeas have softened and the tomatoes are cooked down, about 20 minutes. Add the mint and oregano and cook another 5-10 minutes. Season with salt and pepper.

Pour the mixture into a baking pan and top with the zucchini and feta. Bake until the zucchini is cooked through, about 10-15 minutes, and then broil to melt the cheese and brown the top.

Note: I usually serve this as-is, but you can also serve it with whole wheat couscous (cancer-fighting whole grains) to make it more filling.

April 23, 2009

NTTC #2: Strawberry Bruschetta

Filed under: Breakfast — Tags: , — emiglia @ 6:41 am

My sister has always been a romantic. She and my mother can spend hours watching old Audrey Hepburn movies together. I’ve never been as into the classic romances: I consider them kind of trite and have always been much more of a realist.

However, my sister has a way of adapting romances into her daily life that I envy: when her movies are over, my sister likes to adapt little bits and pieces from them into her life. She takes quotes, costumes, quirks from classics like Annie Hall, Sabrina, and Breakfast at Tiffany’s and makes them so her own that you would never know that they weren’t completely her idea.

In fact, if I had not been watching Kate and Leopold with her when she came up with this idea, I never would have known that her breakfast of choice came from the movie.


“Nine grain toast, strawberries, and mascarpone cheese. It’s apparently low in poly-unsaturates.”

Hugh Jackman, playing 19th century Leopold, offers this breakfast to 21st century Kate one morning. My sister makes it because she loves the idea of Hugh Jackman making her breakfast (OK… I wouldn’t say no to that either), but I adopted it because, when my sister made it for me, I realized how delicious the combination is.

It is, indeed, quick enough for breakfast, even a 21st century breakfast, but I used it as inspiration for dessert.

I took fresh bakery bread and toasted it lightly. I then spread it with ricotta cheese (you can use mascarpone if you like, but I prefer ricotta) and added freshly cut strawberries and powdered sugar (a little extra sweetness never killed anyone). I also sometimes add fresh basil before serving. It’s a great, simple summer dessert, especially following a heavier meal.

It’s also a very sweet idea for breakfast in bed. You know, if you’re into that sort of thing.

This quick and easy recipe is my submission for the second round of No Time to Cook. I was really excited about the first round of this event, and I’m really glad that it’s back! You can submit your own quick and easy dessert recipes until April 25th. Details can be found at Gel’s Kitchen.

Strawberry Bruschetta

fresh strawberries
ricotta cheese
fresh bread
fresh basil
powdered sugar

Toast the bread lightly in the toaster. Meanwhile, slice the strawberries. Spread the toast with ricotta cheese and arrange the strawberry slices on top. Coarsely rip the fresh basil and scatter over the top. Sprinkle with powdered sugar. Serve immediately.

Make ahead tip: to make serving even quicker, mix the strawberries and basil ahead of time and add granulated sugar to the mix. Keep in a bowl on the countertop. The sugar will force the strawberries to release their juices, and you will have a much runnier topping that you can scoop over the bruschetta just before serving.

April 22, 2009

Schwartz’s Deli

Filed under: Restaurant Reviews — Tags: , , — emiglia @ 5:11 am

Hello all.

I recently had a review of a New York-style deli here in Paris published at I Prefer Paris. Feel free to check it out!

April 18, 2009

Cake Day: Perfect Peanut Butter Cookies

Filed under: Cake Day, Cookies — Tags: — emiglia @ 2:38 am

I have a secret: I don’t have measuring cups.

I don’t have measuring spoons, a scale, a thermometer for my oven… anything. I’m basically baking blind.
When I first started baking, all I had to contend with was my mother’s perfect electric oven. A digital thermometer alerted me when the oven had reached the appropriate temperature, and my first few batches of oatmeal cookies turned out perfectly.

I then moved to Toronto: the oven was an electric, but there was no gauge. No problem… I just preheated for a really, really long time to make sure everything was working. I’m over-cautious… can’t help it.

My oven in my first Paris apartment had a dial in celsius that showed me where it was supposed to be, although I think it ran a bit hot. Oh well… I still managed to get it close to where I wanted it to be.

When I moved in to Alex’s apartment, I was greeted with my first gas oven, complete with a dial that was just a graded line from thick to thin: not even a guess for which temperature I was near.

“No problem,” Alex says. “Just bake au feeling.”

I don’t do anything au feeling, much less bake. I plan out my days on post-its. I color code everything. I buy my plane tickets as soon as they go on sale (one year before the date of travel). I plan my menus weeks in advance. Sure, I might change them, but the plan, the organization, is there in some form. Baking is made to be an exact science. You are not supposed to bake au feeling. I, of all people, should not be baking au feeling.

I burned a lot of cookies when I first moved in here. Cookies that spread all over the baking sheet or burned to a crisp without the chocolate chips even melting. I pulled cakes out of the oven that were gummy on the inside and crisp on the outside. I went in search for an oven thermometer and came back empty-handed.

But this week, I have accomplished something. My oven and I have finally gotten to know each other, and I have baked a batch of cookies that did not spread or burn.

The not spreading may have something to do with the fact that I recently learned that French all-purpose flour is comparable to American pastry flour and is not suitable for chewy, delicious cookies. I bought some organic flour that’s closer to the American grain, and these cookies stayed exactly the way they were supposed to: thick and soft with criss-cross patterns on the top. They taste exactly the way a peanut butter cookie should taste: like peanut butter and nothing else.

Alex watched as I got into my rhythm, forming balls of cookie dough in my palm, rolling them in sugar, placing them on the baking sheet and making the criss-cross pattern with the tines of my fork.

“Can I try?”

It was like watching a kid: so unsure of what he was doing. He took too much dough, rolled it in the sugar before it was a ball. “Here,” I offered, “Let me show you.”

I think you can probably tell which cookies are Alex’s: the ones that look like they were made by an overzealous little boy.

Alex’s version of baking au feeling. He may be better at that than I am.

Note: Please remember that if you would like your weekly baked goods featured here as a part of Cake Day on Saturdays, feel free to send me a permalink to your post, and I’ll include it in my roundup!
Peanut Butter Cookies (adapted from Baking Blonde)

1 cup + 2 Tbsp. peanut butter
1/2 cup salted butter, softened
1/4 cup white sugar
3/4 cup packed brown sugar
1 egg
2 Tbsp. milk
1 1/3 cups all-purpose flour
3/4 teaspoon baking powder
3/4 cup sugar (for rolling dough balls, may need more or less)

Preheat oven to 350.

In a large mixing bowl, cream the peanut butter and butter together until smooth. Add the sugars and beat until combined. Add the egg and milk.

In a bowl, sift the flour and baking powder together. Gently add to creamed mixture and mix until just combined. Chill dough for at least 15 minutes.

Run your hands under cold running water to cool them, then roll tablespoonfuls of dough into balls. Roll the dough balls in the sugar until covered all over, and place dough balls on a buttered baking sheet. Carefully press each ball with fork tines to create a criss-cross pattern.

Bake for 5 to 8 minutes in the preheated oven, or until the tops have puffed up and feel cooked through when you touch them. Remove from oven and cool on baking sheets for 5-10 minutes… if you can wait that long.

April 16, 2009

Spring Peas Two Ways

Filed under: Beans and Legumes, Pasta, Side Dishes, Vegetarian Main Dishes — Tags: , , , — emiglia @ 10:12 am

I used to be offended when market vendors tried to foist their deals on me.

I thought it was a reflection on my status as a foreigner, something I’ve always hated. I know that I have an accent, but I feel like a Parisian, and I expect to be treated as one, even though I know that that’s not always going to happen.

Recently, though, I realized that I may have misconstrued the way that I am being treated at the markets.

My aunt recently visited me for a bit more than a week, and while she was here, we traipsed all over Paris, including many of the daily markets. I watched as the women interacted with the vendors, and I realized something: the Parisian housewives, the ones with their little carriages for carrying their purchases home who could not be mistaken for anything besides locals were getting the exact same treatment as I was.

“One kilo of strawberries.”

“I can give you two for five!”

And here was the difference: where I was usually guilted into accepting the offer, these women knew what they wanted.

“No, one is enough.”

They didn’t see my Americanness before the question was asked, but after, after I had given my begrudging, “OK.” All I had to do was say, “no, thank you.”

I started at my local market a week later, setting off to buy peas for an Asparagus and Pea dish I had found on Epicurious.

“One kilo of peas, please.”

“I can give you two for eight,” was the answer. I almost spat out, “No,” right away, eager to test my new theory, but then I decided that it was a good price and decided to take them. Oh well, theories for another day, right? Until I realized I could buy my asparagus from the same stall.

“And a bundle of asparagus.”

Almost automatically, the vendor answered, “I can give you two for five!”

“No, one is fine.” I answered.

“Very good, miss.”

I paid, I left with my produce… and I felt Parisian.

I also, of course, had a lot of peas to contend with.

I started with the Asparagus and Pea dish. I really wanted to like it–the description sounded so enticing: fresh peas and asparagus, brought together with the taste of freshly picked basil and onions sautéed in butter. But alas, it was not to be: maybe it was my French-style white asparagus. Maybe it was the fact that spring asparagus here are much fatter around than the American ones. Maybe it would have been better with roasted asparagus, with a bit of pesto used to bind the vegetables a bit more… but something wasn’t right with this dish, as pretty as it was. It was fine, but it didn’t feel like quite the right way to celebrate fresh spring peas.

I had more peas to use up, and this time, I ventured forth without a recipe. I shelled a bunch of peas and cooked them in butter on the stovetop. I cooked some farfalle and mixed a bit of the starchy water with some pesto and the peas, adding salt and pepper. I tossed it all together, and Alex and I had it for lunch.

I hate to toot my own horn, but my invention was a much better use of these gorgeous peas than that asparagus dish was… not that I’m giving up on it yet. I know that my market vendor will be more than happy to sell me some more fresh spring veggies!

This is my submission to April’s round of Eating with the Seasons. Feel free to head over and send your own submissions until April 20th!

For more stories about my market adventures, feel free to check out my post about my local Place Monge market at my travel blog, Bordeaux and Palmiers!

Spring Pea Pasta

Because I just sort of threw this together, I don’t have a real recipe. It’s very easy to recreate at home, though!

First, measure out enough dry pasta for two people. Begin cooking it in boiling, salted water.

Next, measure out an equal amount of freshly shelled peas. Heat some butter in a skillet, and add the peas, stirring to coat. Add some salt and pepper. Cover the skillet and cook over medium-low heat, stirring occasionally, for about eight minutes, or until the peas are cooked through.

Reserve a ladleful of pasta water and drain the rest of the pasta. Add it to the skillet with the peas, along with a few tablespoons of storebought pesto (use as much as you like.) Add as much pasta water as you need to thin out the sauce, and add salt and pepper to taste.

Remove the pasta from the skillet to a serving bowl, and tear some fresh basil leaves over the top. Serve with parmesan cheese if you like!

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