Late-Winter Doldrums? Think Green Herbs!

Late winter can be quite rude, dragging its feet, refusing to leave, and spluttering the same stale conversation over and over, fatiguing everyone. If you have overwintered some herbs in the garden under fleece/potted some to bring indoors/have a supermarket which stocks fresh herbs, one way to hasten the vivid green of early spring is adding chives, parsley, and dill along with a bracing dose of crushed garlic to spaetzle batter.  This cross between fresh pasta and dumpling is first boiled, then lightly sauteed in butter till their green-flecked, yellow squiggly shapes glisten with golden-brown edges, only needing to be topped with freshly grated Parmesan to make a lovely supper dish.

My recipe differs significantly from the one my mother made during my childhood.   Her version was traditional, that is, made with just flour and eggs, served boiled and laced with butter and salt that mostly appealed to our inner familial circle;  she used a teaspoon to shape them and when done, they were the size of small eggs, not particularly tender but substantial and tasty.  Enjoying those as much as I did, I wanted to spread spaetzle love to a wider audience.  After some research, I have come up with a succulent, visually attractive, and delicious dish!

Ingredients
(makes either two moderately sized servings or a really big and satisfying one for a main course OR four servings as a side dish)

• Flour, white, 1 cup*
• Eggs, large, 3
• Salt, a minimum of 1/4 tsp, to be included in the batter, more can be added into the batter if desired or just before serving--as spaetzle is rather bland.
• Dill, fresh, 1 tsp; dried 1/2 tsp
• Parsley, fresh, 1 tsp; dried 1/2 tsp
• Chives, fresh, 1 T; dried 1 tsp
• Garlic, 1 fat clove, pressed or minced finely
• Butter, sweet, 2 T
• Parmesan, freshly grated, about 1/4 cup*

* American measure, that is, 8 oz

Quantities can be proportionally increased if desired.  Dried herbs work well also, but try to include at least one fresh variety.  Though there are various presses for making neat, dainty spaetzle, pasta ribbons can be made easily by using a butter knife to scrape the batter into boiling water.  A plain knife is also way easier to clean than a press.  Additionally, I prefer the more free-form shapes that sometimes resemble jumbo shrimp!

Bring water to a brisk boil in a medium-sized pot.  Meanwhile prepare the batter.  Crack the eggs into a mixing bowl with curved sides, preferably a light-weight plastic one as it will serve as a 'board' for scraping batter into the boiling water--holding a heavy glass bowl over the pot can become taxing.  Whisk the eggs until well mixed.

Add the flour and at first gradually incorporate the flour until there are no dry bits.

Then beat vigorously with a fork until batter is stretchy and sticky.  This batter will fight back so don't be timid, wield that fork!  As your flour's ability for absorbing water (based on its age) may vary from mine, you may need more or less than the recommended amount.  Keep in mind the consistency you are looking for is a very thick batter and that it will become more fluid when spread with a warm knife.  If the batter is too thick, the pasta will be heavy in texture, if too thin, it will fall apart in the boiling water. 

When learning how to make this dish, I erred on the side of having a too thick batter, because at least, the finished spaetzle would be edible.  I would recommend your testing this dish out first for yourself before serving it to others.  But, please have fun with it!

Add the herbs, garlic, and salt and beat until well mixed.

Taking a butter knife, dip it in the boiling water, and spread some batter along the area just under the rim of the bowl, scraping off strips of batter into the boiling water while tilting the bowl.  An alternate, but somewhat messy way, is to transfer the batter onto a flat plate or wooden board and then scrape strips into the pot.

Remove the spaetzle when they rise to the surface and have been in the boiling water for a total of about 2 minutes.  Since this kind of egg-rich pasta can become rubbery if cooked too long and it will be pan-fried also, be careful not to over do it at this stage.  It took two batches for me to scrap batter fast enough so there was time to fish them out.  If necessary, work with smaller batches.  With practice, you will get quicker--my grandmother's speed for spaetzle making was legendary!  Drain them well.

Melt the butter in a skillet and toss in the spaetzle.  Over moderately high heat, saute not more than five minutes.  Be sure to scrape any browned bits stuck to the pan.

Salt to taste and serve with Parmesan, either already grated in a small serving bowl or presented whole accompanied by a grater, which is the Italian familial way.

When I hear the cold wind whistling past the kitchen window or if I feel a bit unsettled or if I just, oh, I don't need any reason to make this cheerful, comforting, and yummy dish!

In the garden, I see signs of spring--daffodils and sweet violets--that coincides with what Edith Holden saw in Edwardian England during March in 1906.  Her quote from Shakespeare is sublime:

Daffodils, that come before
the swallow dares,
And take the winds of March
with beauty.

Once my nursery order arrives, I will be sowing all those beds!

Her March 20 entry: 

Went to Daffodil field again;  The buds are just breaking into yellow.  Found two Thrush nests, both in holly bushes; one nest was empty, the bird was sitting on the other.  She looked at me with such brave, bright eyes, I could not disturb her, much as I would have liked a peep at her speckled blue eggs.
 

Sweet violets being gathered for making candied violets.

Holden's watercolour of sweet violets is one of the best illustrations in her diary.  She caught sweet violets' demeanour, charm, and communal identity in sure but graceful strokes.

Holden's Shelley quote captures my present experience well:

And the Spring arose on the garden fair,
Like the Spirit of Love felt everywhere;
And each flower and herb on Earth's dark breast
Rose from the dreams of its wintry rest.
The snowdrop and then the violet,
Arose from the ground with warm rain wet;
And their breath was mixed with sweet odour sent
From the turf like the voice and the instrument.

Influenced by the rainy, windy late winter, Dayo has developed a ritual. When the banging of the shutters and flapping of the more flimsy parts of the pergola gets to him, he whooshes into the sous sol, bounds up the inside stairs straight to the bedroom, settling down a bit on the bed.  The bedroom shutters then bang against the outside wall, and Dayo sharply turns his head to make sure the wind has not followed him.

He relaxes again a bit and realises, oops, I have not yet clean my muddy paws and gets right down to that pressing task, a chore I wish he tended to before he jumped on the bed!

Soon after he notices a general wash is in order.

Suddenly he feels a nap coming on and soon all is peaceful on the furry front--for the time being, that is.

À la prochaine!

RELATED POSTS

Excerpts from Holden's Dairy for November, January, February.

Moroccan Cuisine Rocks!

There is a large minority of folks with North African ancestry whose cuisine figures significantly in daily life here.  Couscous is one such dish and is an aesthetically presented main course, commanding all eyes to dwell on its major star attraction.  It has the distinction of being the third most favourite food in France.   Though having some common elements, couscous is prepared differently from family to family.

Our friends graciously catered a complete couscous dinner for us recently.  As the husband was unwrapping all the warm dishes his wife prepared, amidst my excited volley of ça sent bon, tout est tellement beau, c'est magnifique, I would ask more sedately from time to time, oh, what is that?  Moroccan bread.  And that?  Moroccan dessert.  And this here?  Moroccan sauce.

A meal emitting such tantalising smells like this one was not going to wait until my mania for knowing culinary facts were fulfilled.  But then again, the important keyword was Moroccan, so I figured I had a fighting chance of being able to identify some of the ingredients via web research as our friend needed to return home, and we needed to do justice to this splendid repast.  Hopefully my research is correct and if not, a kind reader will let me know!

The couscous had well browned, tender chicken legs, zucchini, carrots, chick peas, and cabbage quarters on a bed of couscous, everything being redolent of tumeric and cinnamon among other spices.  Veggies certainly have their appeal when crunchy, but they are also excellent if they are succulent and full of absorbed flavours.  The accompanying, golden sauce was made from the spicy water in which the veggies were cooked.  Its heat level was moderate, giving a wonderfully warming sensation on a dreary, rainy day.

That's the sauce in the upper left corner.

The warm bread was a flattish but yeast-raised, round loaf with a hint of whole grain goodness and a pleasing, anise-flavoured, rather open crumb.  It is traditionally used as a means of eating the food.  Its shape allows for a high proportion of tasty crust which was delightful.

Not all bread lends itself to be broken, but this one begged for such treatment.

The dessert was astounding:  scrumptious and gorgeously presented.  An elegant, paper-thin pastry enveloped a saturated-with-honey, pleasantly grainy filling of almond paste flavoured with rosewater and cinnamon.

This elegant pastry wrapper is called Warqa and was a revelation:  tender but crisp and formed to resemble petals caressing the delectable almond paste.

At first glance, I thought the wrapper was made from fondant as it is creamy, moist, and smooth to sight and touch, though upon tasting and closer observation, it was clearly baked with delicately browned bottoms and edges.

The pastries were decorated with sugar shot and edible glitter.

Two had the shape reminiscent of Cornes de Gazelle, but with way more elaboration as they were wrapped in a patterned Warqa pastry with their open ends dipped in roasted sesame seeds.

As much as I adore cooking, it was wonderful to be able just to sit down and dive right in.

Couscous of course also makes a delicious accompaniment for many dishes and here are basic instructions for making it.  I like encircling tuna-stuffed, garden-fresh tomatoes with couscous.

Several weeks of almost constant rain has made it impossible not only to be able to prepare the potager for the big plant nursery order soon to arrive, but also even to walk that much around the garden as there is no structure more fragile than sopping-wet earth.  Everything is dripping with cool rain, and Dayo tries to keep his paws off the drenched soil by staying on concrete paths/terracotta tile edgings.

There are still quite a few plump leeks to harvest!

I am thankful for some evergreen 'bones' like this flourishing patch of thyme.  When passing by, I often bend down and crush a handful which releases its bracing fragrance.  Then when returning to the kitchen, I toss them in boiling water, shut off the heat, and then steep covered for about five minutes.  I comfortably sit down at the dining table and put a towel over both my head and the pot while carefully breathing the soothing vapours which aid in keeping my respiratory tract from getting too dry in our centrally heated home.  Does The Calm One do this?  No way!  But he should...

Some pale-chartreuse daffodil buds are getting ready to flower fairly soon.

One broccoli plant remains which insists still on putting out edible side shoots as the main stalk has long since been harvested.

When I first join Dayo in the garden, he stays close by me, trying to help as much as he can.  Here he is investigating some hidden broccoli side shoots.

He also likes to keep me company in the potting room where I write up plans for the spring garden and sow indoors for eventual planting out.

Since receiving The Country Diary of an Edwardian Lady as a gift from my super-sweet G+ friend, +Feisal Kamil, I periodically read the corresponding month from Edith Holden's charmingly illustrated book replete with her own calligraphy.  Her February entry focuses on the beginning signs of the major hustle and bustle soon to be found in gardens:  

I saw a little Robin gathering materials for its nest, at one place on the bank and further on, a Thrush with a beakful of long straw.  Everywhere the branches of the Willow bushes were tipped with downy white balls and the Alder-catkins were shewing very red.  In the garden of Packwood Hall adjoining the churchyard the borders were full of large clumps of single snowdrops.  I brought away a great bunch.  The farmer living there brought out a little lamb to show me, one of a family three born that morning.  I held it in my arms and it seemed quite fearless--poking its little black head up into my face.  Rode home seven miles, in a storm of sleet and snow.

Wild Arum is the middle plant illustrated by Holden.

Although there are no Willow trees nearby, there is a clump of wild Arum in the unkempt patch kept for small wildlife.  Though it is too mucky to go there to take photos right now, it is nice to know that there is some overlapping between Holden's Edwardian world and ours here presently in France.

She ends her monthly account with these lines by George Meredith.

Now the North wind ceases;

The warm South-west awakes,

The heavens are out in fleeces

And earth's green banner shakes.

À bientôt!

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.

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Using Pot Roast of Lamb Leftovers:  Shepherd's Pie and Scotch Broth