Tuesday, 22 January 2013

For a Snowy Day: Two Warming Recipes!

The short winters in southwest France may have freezing temperatures, but historically are not snowy.  However, for the last several years there has been consistent snowfall--sometimes just a light dusting, and at other times, up to a half a foot. I like the white, fluffy stuff, it's beautiful!  En plus, it hushes the normal noise of traffic lending a softer feel to the quartier.

Wintry mornings make me think Oatmeal!  I made enough not only to have some for a warming, nourishing breakfast, but also so I could pan fry what was left over for breakfast next morning.

Triangles of oatmeal pan-fried in butter and topped with warm strawberry jam and yogurt

After breakfast it was time to care for the starlings as on this cold, snowy day, they needed assistance.  The ice in their bath was duly smashed with a hammer so I could fill up the shallow container with fresh water.  Their feeding dish was stocked with oatmeal flakes, raisins, and moistened, dry cat food.  They pay me back by performing almost daily murmurations conducted in the late afternoon.


Cat food you say?  It is a food loved by insectivores like starlings as it is high in protein.  Happily, Dayo enjoyed himself by prancing about in the brisk, freshness of a cold, snowy day and did not notice the huge platter of cat food in the back of the garden!


The garlic planted this past fall doesn't seem to mind the snow that much.  Look at those brave, green blades!


Soon it was lunchtime, and what better dish for such a chilly day than mushroom soup à la forestière thickened with crème fraîche and exuberantly garnished?

Garnished with sliced, raw 'rooms, crispy bacon, fresh chives, and French bread chunks.

For the pan-fried oatmeal, you need of course to make some oatmeal.  There are two things to know about making oatmeal:  1) use a big enough pot to prevent boiling over, and 2) simmer on low heat without taking your eyes off it.  Off course, you could just put it overnight in a slow cooker or even just a thermos without such precautions.

I cover several large handfuls of flaked oatmeal with milk (imparts all essential creaminess), add cinnamon, lots of raisins, a bit of salt and sugar, and simmer until done, about five minutes, stirring all the while.  I scoop out a serving, and top it with a nice pat of butter.  The pot with the rest of the porridge goes in the fridge.  Or if there is a lot, you can pack the extra into a small loaf pan which lends itself to making easy, even slices.

If you like your porridge plain, then you could mix savoury ingredients like minced garlic/onion, spices, herbs, even grated cheese into the extra oatmeal while it is still warm.  Then follow the instructions below for pan frying the slices--olive oil could be used instead of butter.  The topping could be yogurt with a touch of tomato paste beaten into it.

When cold, ease the solidified cereal out of the pot--a flexible spatula comes in handy--and trim off any raggedly bits and cut into pleasing shapes.  The slices need to be about an 1/2 inch thick. Beat an egg in a shallow bowl and put some flour on a plate.  Dredge the oatmeal pieces all over with the flour, and dip in the beaten egg.  Then dredge in the flour once again on all sides.


Melt a tablespoon or so of butter in a skillet, and brown nicely on both sides over medium heat.


While the oatmeal slices are frying, heat gently over a low flame several tablespoons of jam--I used strawberry but any other berry flavour would work along with peach or apricot with their cheery golden colour--in a small pot, or for savoury slices, make up some yogurt flavoured with tomato paste.


Arrange the slices on a plate, spoon some plain yogurt over them, and top with the warm strawberry jam, or for the savoury slices, the tomato-yogurt.  The sweet version has a delectable crust enclosing creamy oatmeal studded with raisins and spiked with cinnamon with a brightening splash of melted jam and a cooling dollop of yogurt.  Pas trop mal!

Mushroom Soup à la Forestière
makes 6-8 servings, any excess can be frozen

  • Onion, yellow, 1 medium, minced finely
  • Mushrooms, fresh, 2.5 lbs/1 kg, minced finely
  • Mushrooms, several caps for garnishing
  • cèpes, dried, a small gowpen (double handful!)
  • Butter, sweet, 4 T
  • Salt
  • Flour, wheat, white, 5 T
  • Liquid, combined water and cepes' liquour, 1 3/4 quarts/1650ml
  • Bouquet garni, fresh or dried, either tied or not.  (If not tied, you will have to fish out the bits!)
  • Crème fraîche, 1 cup*/25 cl
  • Garnishes:  bacon, French bread chunks, fresh chives 
*American cup measure, that is, 8 oz

In French cuisine, the addition of mushrooms which are harvested in forests like cèpes is designated as being à la forestière.  This mushroom soup has a pleasing earthiness, that is, a woodsy taste which I adore.  Start preparing the cèpes.  Finely mince the onions and gather your fresh/dried herbs.  Keep in mind a bouquet garni of fresh herbs will be larger than a dried one.  I used one large bay leaf, a long sprig of fresh thyme, and several fresh parsley springs.


Gently saute them in two tablespoons of butter over the lowest flame possible for about ten minutes or till they are soft, transparent, and yellow.  Be careful not to brown them.


Carefully wipe the mushrooms clean with a damp paper towel so as not to waterlog them.  Cut them in half, reserving a few caps for garnishing.


Finely chop the mushrooms via a food processor or by hand.  The finer they are minced the more flavour the soup will have.


Toss the minced fresh mushrooms along with the minced cèpes into the pot with the sauteed onions.  Add two more tablespoons of butter along with a teaspoon or two of salt to encourage the 'rooms to release their liquor and simmer, covered, for 25 minutes.  There should be loads of brown liquid of which will be absorbed by the flour you will now add.  Incorporate the flour thoroughly and cook for a minute or too for the flour to lose its raw taste.


Slowly add the water and the strained cèpe liquor until the soup is smooth.  Add the herbs.  Simmer, covered, for another 25 minutes.


About fifteen minutes before the soup is ready,  prepare the garnish by frying up some bacon rashers, tear some chunks from a loaf of French bread, slice the reserved mushroom caps, and snip some chivesThough all is covered with snow in the potager at the moment, a large pot of verdant chives happily flourishes in a warm, sunny spot indoors.


I highly recommend herb scissors which makes the job of snipping herbs, especially chives, a cinch.  The scissors, however, are pretty heavy as they are five pairs in one!




Fish out the bouquet garni, and using a stick mixer, blend the soup right in the pot and beat in the crème fraîche.  Add salt and freshly ground black pepper to taste.


Garnish heartily.  Voilà!


This mushroom soup is tangy, rich, and aromatic and is even better the next day as the robust flavour only deepens!

Bon appétit!

Tuesday, 15 January 2013

Good Lasagne? It's the Sauce!

Lasagne, being a dish I adore, is something I have eaten in many restaurants and friend's homes in various cities and countries without ever having a truly bad version.  Therefore it pains me to admit that my own had always let me down; no matter what I did, whether if I made my own sauce, or if I upped the ante and made my own sauce with my own garden Romas, or if I used herbs fresh from my garden, or if I boosted the  Béchamel with Parmesan--nothing worked, at least not to my taste buds.  


We would dutifully eat it and not say much; oh, but did we discuss all the other lasagnes!  The lasagne at that restaurant, at that friend's party, what did they have that mine didn't, how did they get their oomph?  I didn't want to take the easy way out--some refuse to ask directions, while others refuse to ask what's in a recipe.  Though in general, I am not this obstinate about seeking culinary assistance.

After some time and various fine-tunings, it was when I substituted Toulouse sausage for the ground beef and put a lot of fresh basil and then put in some more basil, and then even more--it was alarming to see all those green bits floating hither thither in the pot--that suddenly it became a good lasagne.  Though there are many versions as delicious, I prefer mine because I know first hand the determined, unrelenting stubbornness that went into its creation.


Tomato/Sausage Sauce
makes about 3 quarts--sauce freezes well

  • Tomatoes, fresh Romas/plum or canned plum tomatoes (best brand you can get)--60 fresh/frozen Romas or about three 16 oz cans
  • Garlic, at least 3-5 fat cloves
  • Bay Leaf, one or two
  • Basil, around 1/4 cup* packed fresh leaves, or a heaping T dried
  • Parmesan rind, several small ones
  • Sausages, Sweet Italian or Toulouse, 10-12
  • Any tomato juice leftover from using fresh tomatoes
  • Tomato paste, several tablespoons up to a half of a tube
  • Olive oil, extra virgin, a T or two
  • Carrot, peeled, small, grated very fine
  • Salt to taste, I use about 1 T.
  • Freshly ground black pepper, about 1/8-1/4 tsp  

Since the tomato sauce is an ocean of flavour in which all the other ingredients are submerged, it's the key to a good lasagne.  The sauce of course can be made in advance and frozen--just remember to thaw it before the day you make the lasagne!  Choose the best Sweet Italian (or even better, Toulouse) sausages you can find.


Spilt the casings and in a heavy bottom saucepan (enamelled iron Dutch oven for example) saute in a bit of olive oil till lightly browned.


Remove the browned sausage bits and drain most of the fat out of the pan, leaving a scant tablespoon.  Smash lightly several fat cloves of garlic, peel them, and then put them in a garlic press.


Wash the Romas.

Yes, that is a lonely beefsteak tomato on the upper right! 

Remove any stems and cut the Romas in half.  If using canned Romas, then coarsely chop them either in a food processor or by hand.  Make sure you add all their juice/sauce into the pot.

That's the fat drained from the sausages in the glass!

Put the crushed garlic in the heavy-bottomed pot and saute in the remaining fat for a minute or two.  Then add the tomatoes, tomato paste (start with a few tablespoons and increase to get the thickness you want), basil, bay leaf, any leftover tomato juice, grated carrot (it will eventually completely dissolve, giving the sauce a bit of sweetness and body) and the Parmesan rinds.

Note the frozen tomato juice and basil.

Cover and simmer for about four hours.  Pick out the skins as they roll off the simmering tomatoes (not necessary of course if using canned tomatoes)


When finished, the sauce will be thick and redolent with a spicy flavour.  Remove the bay leaf and Parmesan rinds which can be eaten--they are quite delicious! Add salt and freshly ground black pepper to taste.


Lasagne

  • Lasagne noodles, egg-based ones with rough texture are the best, 12
  • Tomato sauce, see above, 4 cups*
  • Mozzarella, sliced about an 1/8th inch, 18 slices
  • Parmesan, grated, 1 cup*
  • Parmesan Bechamel (see below)

Parmesan Bechamel

  • Parmesan, grated, 1/4 cup*
  • milk, 1.5 cups*
  • Butter, 4 T
  • flour, 5 T
  • nutmeg, 1/8 tsp
  • salt to taste 
* American measure, that is, 8 oz

Using a large-enough, shallow pan or dish that can be covered, soak the lasagne noodles in boiling water for about five minutes.  Carefully remove them by sliding a thin spatula under each and place in a large bowl of cold water.  I work in batches of two, layering them in an oven dish as I assemble the lasagne.


Grate the Parmesan (make 4 equal piles), slice the mozzarella (3 piles of 6 slices each for a total of 18).  Spread a few tablespoons of sauce on the bottom of a suitable oven dish.  Place a layer of three overlapping noodles.  Spread about 6 tablespoons of sauce, then layer with 6 mozzarella slices and sprinkle with one pile of Parmesan.


Repeat for a total of three layers of cheese and sauce.  Finish with a fourth layer of noodles.


Top with the remaining of the sauce (if more than 6 T are left, then save the rest as the lasagne should not be too soupy) and spread evenly.


Pre-heat oven to 350 degrees F.  Gather ingredients for the Parmesan Béchamel.


Melt the butter over low heat and add the flour, stirring for a minute or so.



Slowly add the milk, stirring all the while still sauce is smooth.  Any lumps can be beaten out with a wire whisk.  Add the Parmesan and nutmeg.


Stir until all the cheese is melted and sauce is very smooth.  Salt to taste.


Pour ribbons of the sauce--you may need to whisk it just before pouring to increase liquidity--on the layered noodles and sprinkle the remaining pile of Parmesan on top to encourage browning.


Bake for about a half an hour at 350 degrees F if a creamy, custard-like texture is the goal. Bake longer if a crispier topping is desired.

Baked for about an hour

Wait for about five-ten minutes for the lasagne to solidify before serving.   This lasagne is shot through with a vividly flavoured, meaty tomato sauce and topped with a luscious, cheesy Béchamel resembling a savoury custard in texture.  It's quite good!

Bon appétit!

Related Posts

How to freeze fresh basil
Freezing Roma tomatoes

Wednesday, 9 January 2013

Pot Roast of Lamb: Easy Company Fare

Though the French adore lamb roasted until it is just à point, they also appreciate the resulting succulence when it is mitonnée, that is, braised in a savoury liquid for several hours until it reaches melt-in-your-mouth status.  This recipe is good for dinner guests because though it easily feeds a bunch of folks, it still has a fancy air about it.  Additionally, being simmered on the stove's top frees up the oven for other goodies which will round out a meal, not to mention this approach results in a ton of delicious gravy.


An oven free of a large roasting pan will happily accommodate potatoes au gratin--peeled taters are sliced 1/4 inch thick and then are barely covered and simmered in cream first infused with a sprig of flat leaf parsley, a half of a bay leaf, a bit of thyme, and a couple of peeled garlic cloves (just simmer the herbs in the cream for a few minutes before adding the sliced potatoes).

When the slices are almost tender (test with a small knife's tip) which takes about five to ten minutes, add salt and freshly ground black pepper, pour the contents of the saucepan into an oven dish, and bake at 350 degrees F/176 degrees C for about an hour or until the potatoes are gorgeously browned and engorged with cream, retaining their earthiness while being decadently luscious.

I used Desiree potatoes from my potager--any all-purpose variety will work.

Harvested fresh from the winter potager, baby Brussels sprouts roasted with a bit of lemon juice, lots of olive oil, a bit of garlic, and crusted over with Parmesan can find room in the oven also.  Elise's recipe is here.  Remember the smaller sprouts, the faster they will be ready--don't roast them until they are too crunchy.  Larger sprouts can be halved.  If a first course is desired, Velouté de Carottes would be a nice choice.


Though this dish is suitable for special occasions, it also is another one of my culinary workhorses, because I can make several different meals from it--left-over sliced lamb smothered in that plentiful gravy, Shepherd's pie made from minced lamb with the remaining gravy, and last but not least, Scotch broth made from the bone with still some meat on it (Link to my recipes for Shepherd's pie and Scotch broth is at the end of this post).

The lamb can be pot-roasted in advance.  When cold, it is much easier to slice and can be gently simmered in a covered skillet of hot gravy for a minute or two.  The same approach can be used for any frozen left-overs.

I use a large, oval enamel roaster whose voluminous cover allows moisture to precipitate over the meat, providing basting on its own.  The pan is placed over two burners, though a  butcher can shorten the leg so it can fit into a Dutch oven which would require only one burner.

First soak a small handful of dried cepes.  Then brown the leg of lamb trimmed of most of its fat and weighing about five pounds (2 kilograms which feeds 6-8) on all sides in some olive oil on moderately high heat.  Searing meat in this manner can set off smoke detectors so turn on the stove's exhaust fan if there is one.  I also open a nearby window overlooking the garden so I can turn my face away from the sizzling pan to feel a blast of fresh, wintry air on my face.

It is a bit of a bother to turn the joint, but tongs/wooden spoons can help or when nothing else works, I handle the lamb with a big wad of paper towels while rotating the leg where it needs to go.  Browning takes about ten minutes.


Remove the joint onto a platter so all the fat can be drained into a jar for disposal. Never pour animal fat down the kitchen sink unless you are weird enough to enjoy the considerable trouble of dislodging a column of solid fat from the plumbing.


Add the softened cepes along with their strained liquid to the pan, scraping to dissolve all the crusty bits.  Stir in a couple of tablespoons of tomato paste, several smashed cloves of garlic, a bouquet garni with additional rosemary, and enough water so the bottom of the pan is covered with about an inch of liquid.  Make sure you put the leg of lamb back in the pan!

 

Though this style of pan is reputed to be self basting, I still like to ladle the gravy over the joint several times during the simmering which lasts about four hours.  Because?  Call me old fashioned, but I just can't believe a pot can be untended by the cook for that long.  I also flip the leg over and check to see if more water needs to be added.  About an hour or so before the meat will be done, start working on the au gratin and roasted Brussels sprouts.


The lamb is done when it is almost ready to fall off the bone as you don't want the connective tissue to break down so much it just shreds.  Remove it carefully--in the sense it can easily slide onto the floor before you even notice you are forlornly holding an empty plate--and place on a platter.


Dayo is musing there was this large, covered pan on the stove for hours--no lamb in sight, and then WHAM!  In other words, it was a brilliant, olfactory-and-visual, full-frontal assault on my part which gave Dayo no time to pull any sneaky maneuvers from his box on the opposite end of the long, food-preparation table.

How did you do that, Mommy?

Pour out gravy into a saucepan and put the leg back into the covered roasting pan to keep warm.  Skim off any fat and remove the bouquet garni and any visible garlic skins.  If it is too thin and not rich enough, reduce over high heat until it is the way you like.  The gravy then can be blended right in the pot by using a stick blender which will further thicken it.  Season to taste with salt and freshly ground black pepper.  Keep gravy hot and carve the meat.
  


An easy dessert is frozen strawberries from the summer garden topped with whipped cream.


In the garden, a warm winter is encouraging early signs of growth.  Some daffodils are coming up.


As are a few fragrant sweet violets which are the ones that can be candied, and as it is fairly easy to do will be something I eventually do.  Violets were Napoleon's favourite flower, and candied violets are a speciality from Toulouse.  They are winter bloomers with luxurious, ground-covering evergreen foliage which do well in the shade.

A long time ago,  I bought a single chocolate decorated with a candied violet from an exceedingly fancy New York City sweet shop--as it was all I could afford--and never forgot its delicate but refreshing taste and fragrance of violet.  Now I live in southwest France with my own fresh supply of violets!  Too cool.


Numerous English daisies are popping up.  January's entry in Edith Holden's The Country Diary of an Edwardian Lady has nearly two pages written in her calligraphy along with several of her illustrations devoted to Bellis perennis.  Among other excerpts of poems quoted are:

Wee, modest, crimson-tippet flower
Burns

Daises, ye flowers of lowly birth
Embroiderers of the carpet earth
That gem the velvet sod;
Clare 


The  gold-dusted evergreen Aucuba hedge brightens up a shady garden corner.


The heather nods its pink racemes in the pale winter sun.


For the last week or so, most mornings I have been hauling sack after sack of oak leaves from a small copse nearby.  I use a plastic crate lid as both a rake and shovel. This leaf bounty is part of my efforts to produce as much of leaf mould as I can as it significantly increases the moisture retention of soil, especially a thin, sun-baked one as mine.  Since it takes about a year to break down into mould, I get also a year's supply of mulch which suppresses weeds and conserves moisture.


Dayo is very interested in my leaf project.  Here he is readying his claws for some important work.


He helps shreds the leaves.  He does this much needed work in a very clever way--he pounces on the pile, creating a small valley which he then kneads with great focus. 


À bientôt!


Related Links
The definitive article on the raging to-sear-or-not-to sear meat controversy.

Related Posts 
How to Freeze Strawberries
Using Pot Roast of Lamb Leftovers:  Shepherd's Pie and Scotch Broth


Sunday, 23 December 2012

Joyeuses Fêtes!

For about two weeks, I, The Calm One, and Dayo all will be taking it easy--resting, enjoying good food, and being at home together.



We wish you all the most Joyeuses Fêtes!

(Regular weekly posting will resume January 8, 2013.)