In the Hands of a Chef (15 page)
Read In the Hands of a Chef Online
Authors: Jody Adams
Serve the peppers as a side dish with grilled chicken or pork, or chop them up and use as a relish with the same food, served cold. The peppers will keep for up to a week if refrigerated.
MAKES 4 SIDE-DISH SERVINGS
¼ cup extra virgin olive oil
1 medium onion, cut into ¼-inch-thick slices
2 garlic cloves, chopped
¼ teaspoon hot red pepper flakes
½ teaspoon paprika, preferably Spanish
¼ teaspoon saffron
4 red peppers, roasted (see box), peeled, stemmed, seeds and membranes removed, and sliced into 1-inch-wide strips
2 tablespoons sherry vinegar
Kosher salt and freshly ground black pepper
2 tablespoons chopped fresh mint
DO AHEAD:
Roast, peel, seed, and slice the peppers, then refrigerate them until you’re ready to finish the recipe. If you’re preparing the dish a day ahead, omit the mint until just before serving.
1.
Heat the oil in a large sauté pan over medium heat. Add the onion and cook until tender, about 10 minutes. Add the garlic, red pepper flakes, paprika, and saffron and cook until the garlic releases its perfume, a couple of minutes.
2.
Add the peppers and sherry vinegar. Season with salt and pepper, turn the heat to low, and cook for another 3 minutes. Stir in the mint and serve.
MAKES AS MANY AS YOU LIKE.
R
oasted red peppers are one of the few pantry staples in our house whose versatility approaches that of roasted garlic. When pureed, they flavor and thicken soups and sauces. They make great sandwiches, especially with mozzarella, roast beef, or cured Italian meats. And a few roasted peppers are halfway to one of my favorite dishes, Panzanella (page 71).
The recipes in this book call for roasted red (or yellow) peppers, but you can apply the technique to any pepper with a thick layer of flesh. Peppers with thin walls don’t have enough flesh left after peeling to make roasting them worthwhile. Take care when charring the peppers not to take them beyond the black-and-barely-blistered stage, or you’ll burn the flesh as well as the skin.
Roasted peppers will keep for 4 to 5 days if tightly wrapped and refrigerated. Covered in olive oil in an airtight container and refrigerated, they will last for 2 weeks. Always use a fork or tongs to remove them from the container, to avoid introducing bacteria from your skin into the oil.
1.
Preheat the broiler or prepare a hot fire in a grill.
2.
Set the peppers on a rack close to the heat. Broil or grill the peppers on one side until their skins begin to blister and blacken, then turn and repeat, turning as necessary, until the peppers have blackened all over. Depending on the size of the peppers, the process will take 10 to 20 minutes.
3.
Put the peppers in a paper bag, close the bag, and allow to cool. As the peppers cool down, moisture will condense between the flesh of the peppers and their charred skins, making them easy to peel.
4.
As soon as they’re cool enough to be handled, remove the peppers from the bag and rub off their skins with a kitchen towel or your fingers. Their skins should slip off easily. Some people like to peel them under cool running water, but I prefer the messier method I’ve described; peeling them under water seems to remove some of the roasted flavor. Remove the stems, seeds, and membranes with a paring knife. If not using immediately, refrigerate them in a nonreactive container. (If you like, cover them with extra virgin olive oil for longer keeping.)
A
companion dish of onions, shallots,
and even garlic is common with main courses in Italy and France. I’m indebted to Boston chef Laura Brennan for introducing me to the recipe I’ve adapted here. The shallots are browned in butter, then cooked in seasoned chicken stock, balsamic vinegar, and port, which reduces to a rich golden glaze. Serve the shallots as a warm side dish or a room-temperature condiment for meat. Leftovers with some goat cheese make an excellent pizza topping.
MAKES 4 SIDE-DISH SERVINGS
2 tablespoons unsalted butter
12 large shallots (or 12 cipolline or 24 pearl onions), peeled
Kosher salt and freshly ground black pepper
¼ cup port
¼ cup balsamic vinegar
2 tablespoons honey
2 bay leaves
1 teaspoon chopped fresh thyme
¼ teaspoon fennel seeds
1 cup Chicken Stock (page 31) or high-quality canned low-sodium chicken broth
1.
Melt the butter in a large sauté pan over medium heat. As soon as the butter stops foaming, add the shallots, season with salt and pepper, and brown all over. Lower the heat as necessary so the butter doesn’t burn.
2.
Add the remaining ingredients and continue cooking until the shallots are tender and the liquids have reduced to a glaze, about 20 minutes. Pay close attention so you don’t overreduce the sauce. Remove the bay leaves and serve the shallots warm or at room temperature.
A
wild mushroom fricassee is a
woodsy, rustic take on sautéed mushrooms. The distinct textures, flavors, and appearance of the different fungi come through in the completed dish instead of dissipating into a general “mushroomy” flavor. The fricassee makes a great side dish with game, but you can also combine it with gnocchi or spaetzle for a fine entrée, especially for vegetarians, if you substitute light cream for the chicken stock. One of my favorite uses for the fricassee (omitting the chicken stock altogether so the mixture is drier) is in Roasted Potatoes Stuffed with Wild Mushrooms and Truffled Eggs (page 301).
MAKES 4 SIDE-DISH SERVINGS
1½ pounds assorted mushrooms (portabellas, oyster, shiitakes, or chanterelles), cleaned, shiitake stems discarded
3 to 5 tablespoons unsalted butter
Kosher salt and freshly ground black pepper
2 cups Chicken Stock (page 31) or 4 cups high-quality canned low-sodium chicken broth, reduced to 2 cups (see page 32)
3 shallots, minced
4 garlic cloves, minced
½ cup dry Marsala
1 teaspoon chopped fresh thyme
1.
Chop the mushrooms into pieces 2 to 3 inches long, as necessary: I like to leave wild mushrooms as whole or as large as is practical, especially the really beautiful ones like morels and chanterelles.
2.
Sauté the mushrooms in batches, each type individually. Heat 1 tablespoon of the butter in a large sauté pan over medium heat. As soon as it stops foaming, add the first batch of mushrooms and season with salt and pepper. If you add the mushrooms before the butter stops foaming, the pan won’t be hot enough to sear. Don’t crowd the pan—if you cook too many mushrooms at once, they tend to steam instead of sear. Sauté the mushrooms until they are tender and their juices have evaporated, then transfer to a plate. Add another tablespoon of butter to the pan and, as soon as it stops foaming, add the next batch of mushrooms. Continue until you’ve cooked all the mushrooms, adding a tablespoon of butter to the pan before each new batch.
3.
While the mushrooms are cooking, bring the chicken stock to a simmer in a saucepan over medium heat and simmer until it reduces to 1 cup, about 15 minutes.
4.
After removing the final batch of mushrooms from the pan, lower the heat to medium. Add
½
tablespoon butter to the pan, along with the shallots and garlic (do not wait for the butter to foam), and cook until the shallots are tender, about 3 minutes. Return all the mushrooms to the pan, add the Marsala and thyme, and cook until the Marsala has reduced by half.
5.
Add the chicken stock to the mushrooms, simmer and reduce to make a slightly soupy sauce. Taste and adjust the seasoning as necessary. Serve immediately.
I
use this recipe more than
any other for preparing beets. The orange flavor is so light it’s almost undetectable—until you take it away. Served warm, these beets make a simple side dish, but they can just as well be the jumping-off point for a cold beet salad or a startling addition to risotto.
If skinning beets seems too messy for the last minute before serving, make the beets ahead, then reheat them in a little extra virgin olive oil or butter.
MAKES 4 SIDE-DISH SERVINGS
2 oranges, washed and quartered
1 small onion, chopped into ½-inch dice
1 teaspoon coriander seeds
4 bay leaves
1 tablespoon fennel seeds
6 medium beets, washed and greens trimmed to an inch
Kosher salt and freshly ground black pepper
1.
Squeeze the orange quarters to release their juice into a large nonreactive saucepan that will hold the beets in a single layer. Add the rinds and all the remaining ingredients, seasoning with salt and pepper. Add enough water to cover the beets by an inch. Cover and bring to a boil, then reduce the heat to a simmer and continue cooking until the beets are tender. Depending on the size of the beets, they’ll take from 45 minutes to an hour to cook. Allow the beets to cool slightly in the cooking liquid.
2.
As soon as the beets are cool enough to handle, remove the skins and stems (see box). Cut into slices or quarters, season with salt and pepper, and serve immediately.
D
isposable surgical gloves are a godsend when it comes to preparing beets. You can work while the beets are still warm because the gloves provide a layer of insulation, and the latex surface has enough “grab” that you can just rub the skins and stems off. No need for a knife. Since they also protect your hands from staining, you don’t have to peel the beets under running water, a technique that robs them of flavor. Surgical plastic gloves are available at hardware or kitchen equipment stores. A kitchen towel—an old one, so you don’t care if it stains—also makes a fine tool for rubbing the skins off beets (or roasted peppers).
The French, recognizing the virtues of beets as well as their vices, have the right idea when it comes to beets. French shoppers can purchase beets already cooked and peeled—and preserved in Cryovac. All flavor and no mess.
M
ost people first come to
know celery root (also called celeriac) as a crunchy salad ingredient, perhaps in celery root rémoulade, a French preparation of celery root matchsticks in a mayonnaise sauce flavored with mustard. It also makes a wonderful purée. For those unfamiliar with celery root’s taste (“what
is
this?”) the identity of the purée is a pleasant dinner revelation. Butter and cream enhance the flavor instead of overwhelming it. You can extend celery root with potatoes, but I’d rather save my money for the unadulterated dish. It’s unmatched with pork and apples as a cold-weather combination.
Celery root’s knobby exterior is more easily skinned with a sharp paring knife than a vegetable peeler. Keep cut celery root in water acidulated with a little lemon juice (see page 84) so it doesn’t discolor.
MAKES 4 SIDE-DISH SERVINGS
4 tablespoon unsalted butter
1 small onion, sliced ¼ inch thick
Kosher salt and freshly ground black pepper
1 celery root (about 1 pound), peeled and diced into 1-inch cubes
2 garlic cloves, minced
1½ cups Chicken Stock (page 31) or high-quality canned low-sodium chicken broth
1 small apple, peeled, cored, and cut into 8 wedges
Up to ¼ cup heavy cream (optional)
2 tablespoons freshly squeezed lemon juice
1.
Heat 2 tablespoons of the butter in a heavy saucepan over medium heat and sauté the onions until lightly browned, 10 to 15 minutes. Take care not to burn them. Season with salt and pepper. Transfer the onions to a bowl.
2.
Add the remaining 2 tablespoons butter to the saucepan, increase the heat to medium-high, and sear the celery root until lightly browned on all sides. Turn the heat to low. Add the garlic, return the onions to the pan, and season with salt and pepper. Add the chicken stock and apple pieces, cover, and cook until the celery root is tender enough to purée and the stock has reduced to a glaze, about an hour.
3.
Purée the celery root. The texture should resemble mashed potatoes. For a smoother texture add the optional cream. Add the lemon juice. Taste for seasoning, add more salt and pepper, if necessary, and serve.
I
picked up some black sesame
seeds at a Middle Eastern market one October and after putting them on the shelf at home promptly forgot about them. A few weeks later, I was desperately scavenging through our larder for
something
that would qualify our meal of chicken and rice as an official Halloween dinner, and I chanced on the black sesame seeds. The rest was simple luck, fresh carrots in the refrigerator, and a thriving stand of mint on the edge of our yard that hadn’t yet realized the season was over. The combination of mint, citrus, and sesame evokes an eastern Mediterranean harmony, while the sesame seeds’ color makes a striking visual impression.
