Tomatoes and Pears

I came home from work tonight and saw the pile of tomatoes on the counter and knew it was time to take action.  They'd been ripening there (after being plucked from my friend Rory's garden) for a week or so, slowly moving from "these are so green I don't think they could possibly ever turn red.  They must be a yellow variety," to "hey, whaddaya know, they're a little orange today," to "holy crap, I'd better figure out what the heck I'm going to do with those."  I'm not much into raw tomatoes, unless they're having a salsa party, and I made salsa last weekend.  I flipped through the index of The Cook's Illustrated Cookbook for inspiration, and suddenly I was making pizza!
 
My go-to weeknight pizza crust hails from Frank Stitt's Bottega Favorita cookbook.  When our kitchen was destroyed by The Great Deluge a few years ago, it was one of the few cookbooks that was damaged beyond repair, but I salvaged the page with the pizza crust recipe before throwing out the soggy book.  The dough only has to rise for half an hour, and the pizza only takes 5-7 minutes to bake on a stone. The quick rise allows just the right amount of time for preheating the pizza stone and prepping all the toppings and cheese, so I didn't want to mess with making tomato sauce.  The ripest of my tomatoes were only about 1.5 inches across, so I opted for marinating them in balsamic vinegar, which soon called out for fresh herbs (from the deck), a little olive oil, and a few grinds of black pepper. 

The cheese drawer held a hunk of asiago and a small block of parmesan reggiano, which is totally worth the seemingly outrageous price- it packs so much flavor you'll never go back to that green can, and it goes a long way.  Use the small holes on your grater and you'll be amazed at how long a few ounces will last.  Also, while I'm handing out cheese advice, wait to add it as a melty topping until the last minute or two of cooking.  I don't remember where I heard this, but it's true: the flavor is best when the cheese has just been warmed.

cheese!

Digging in the fridge, I came up with a red bell pepper I'd bought at the Farmer's Market on Sunday and a bunch of organic broccoli that was on sale at Central Market last weekend. Have I mentioned how fabulous that place is?  Probably.  When I need ingredients I've never heard of, they generally have what I need.  The cashiers never have to ask me what that piece of produce is, though they might occasionally confirm "water chestnuts, right?" before typing in the code.  The people who work there seem happy and relaxed.  I buy all of my spices from the bulk department there; it's much cheaper than buying them in jars, the spices are fresher, and I can buy a few tablespoons of an ingredient if I don't think I'll use it often.  Fennel seed, for example, is repulsive to me, but I'll buy a little if I'm trying a new recipe or making garam masala or something.  

I had a little extra time to kill before the dough was ready, so of course I started leafing through cookbooks, trying to figure out what to do with all the rest of the pears I'd bought on Saturday.  They were 78 cents a pound, so naturally I bought ten, with the clear image of my favorite pear cobbler in mind. I've been biking to work four times a week since the first of March, but the past few weeks I've let things get in the way ("I baked a cake. I can't carry that on my bike").  I knew the cobbler would not be easy to transport by bike, and I bake way too often for the goods to stay at home, so I had to find another pear path.  

Ozark Pudding Cake

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

buttery pear cupcakes

Last night I made an Ozark Pudding Cake from Julie Richardson's new book Vintage Cakes, which used up two of my lovely pears.  Tasty, but again, not too bike-friendly.  I decided to modify one of my favorite recipes from Richardson's previous book, Rustic Fruit Desserts (which I cannot recommend highly enough).  Mimi's German Apple Cake only takes about 15 minutes to assemble, and it quickly became a staple in my kitchen in circumstances when the need for cake arises out of the blue (does this happen to other people?).  Anyway, I decided that cupcakes would be more portable, so I doubled the recipe, used chopped pears instead of apple wedges, and added a little cardamom because it is so nice with pears.  The finished product was buttery, moist, and delicious.  Now I just have to figure out how to pack them in my panniers without smashing them.



Oh, right, I was making pizza!  It turned out surprisingly well with my improvised tomato vinaigrette sauce and a sparse sprinkling of cheese.  Sorry, I was busy eating and forgot to take a picture.




 

National Perohi Day!

If you are unfamiliar with perohi (not to be confused with piroshki, which are also delicious, but different) you have my sympathy.  I first encountered this glorious food when I was about ten years old and made a batch with my mother and grandmother.  My mom says that when she was a kid, the ladies at their Russian Orthodox church in Ohio would make hundreds of them every Friday.  I, on the other hand, had only encountered them in my own kitchen until I was 30 or so.  Throughout my life I've met people, mostly of Polish ancestry, who knew about them, but only a few have been motivated to cook them.  They're similar to ravioli - tedious and time-consuming to make, but so tasty it's hard to stop eating them.  I have eaten my way to a bellyache more than once, only to realize that I spent all day in the kitchen and barely had enough left for lunch the next day.

At work this afternoon I discovered that it was National Perogi Day, and immediately I knew what I'd be doing tonight.  About halfway through the process, I decided I should share the recipe.  This recipe makes about 80 pieces.  The whole process took me 3 hours tonight, but I've had lots of practice.  Try it when you have plenty of time if you've never done it before.

For the Dough:                                    For the Filling:
4 cups flour                                          8 large potatoes, peeled & chopped
1 /1/2 cups potato water                       8 oz. extra sharp cheddar cheese, grated
2 eggs                                                  2 Tablespoons butter
1/8 teaspoon salt                                   salt to taste

For serving:
1/2 cup butter
2 large yellow onions, diced

In a medium pot, cover the potatoes with cold water and add a few shakes of salt.  Bring to a boil and cook over medium-high heat until tender, roughly 10 minutes (depending on how big your chunks are).  When the potatoes are done,  reserve 1 1/2 cups of the cooking water and refrigerate it - you will use this in the dough.  Drain the rest of the water.  Mash the potatoes and add the butter.  Add the cheese a handful at a time and mash to incorporate.  Salt to taste.  Chill until ready to use.

When the filling has cooled enough to handle, roll it into balls a little smaller than a quarter, and set them aside.  This is a great job for kids who want to help!  It's okay if the size varies a bit - the size of your dough pieces will vary a bit too, and you can always modify them as you go if necessary.

Line 3 sheet pans with parchment paper, then dust with flour.  Set aside.


In your largest skillet, melt 2 tablespoons of the butter over medium-low heat.  Add the onions and stir to coat.  Reduce the heat to low when the onions begin to brown, then continue to cook until they are a uniform golden brown, stirring occasionally.  If they are done before you're ready for them, just remove them from the heat - you can reheat them later.  It's a good idea to turn on the fan over your stove and/or open your windows, unless you want your whole house to smell like onions the next day.

Fill a large pot with salted water as you would for pasta and bring it to a boil while you make the dough.  

In a large bowl, combine the flour and salt.  Make a well in the flour and add the eggs and cooled potato water.  Stir with a fork, slowly incorporating the flour.  The dough will be very sticky.   Liberally flour a smooth counter top or cutting board.    Rub flour on your hands, then knead the dough until elastic but still a little tacky, 5-10 minutes. The dough will absorb more flour (about a half cup or so) as you knead. 

Cut the dough into four equal pieces.  Roll each into a ball, and place three of them on a floured spot (plate/counter/bowl/frisbee) and cover with a clean towel or plastic wrap to keep them from drying out while you roll out the first dough ball.

Dust the counter with flour, then roll out the first ball, starting from the center and working toward the edges.  The dough will stretch and then shrink, and progress will be slow at first.  Make sure the dough isn't sticking to the counter. If it sticks, lift the edges and toss a little more flour under the dough.  If it sticks to the rolling pin, rub a little bit of flour on the rolling pin.  You don't want to get too much flour on the top surface of the dough - it will keep your perohi from sealing properly, and all of your lovely cheesy potato goodness will leak out in the water when you cook them.  Keep rolling until you have a thin, even sheet about 1/8" thick.

A rectangle will be easier to work with than a circle, but don't sweat about the shape.  Cut the dough into roughly 2" squares.  You will stretch the dough a bit as you fill the perohi, so if your shapes are a little wonky around the edges, that's fine.

 Take a square of dough and carefully stretch it a little bit, holding it along its opposite edges.  Place a ball of potato in the middle, and fold the dough in half over the filling.  Pinch the edges of the dough together, making sure the entire edge is sealed.   If the dough sticks to your fingers, rub a little flour on them, taking care not to get any in the seal.

Lay the perohi on the prepared sheet pans in a single layer so that they do not touch or overlap.  Anywhere they rub elbows, they will stick together, and that will be bad news later. 

At this point, you can put the sheet pan in the freezer and save your perohi for a cold winter's night.  If you're going to freeze them, leave them on the pan until they're completely frozen (about 2 hours), then remove them from the pan, put them in a freezer bag, and squeeze out as much air as you can before sealing the bag.
    
Drop one pan of the perohi (about 24) into the boiling water one at a time, making sure they are in contact with the water when you let go of them - otherwise they will splash boiling water on you, which is no fun at all, or they will stick together, which is even worse.   Stir the pot gently with a wooden spoon to separate any perohi that might be stuck together or on the bottom of the pot.

Return the pot to a boil, then cook for 3-4 minutes.  Meanwhile, remove half of the browned onions from the skillet and set aside.  Add 2 tablespoons of butter to the skillet and melt over medium-low heat.  When the perohi are done, remove them from the boiling water with a slotted spoon (being very gentle so they don't tear!) a few at a time and put them directly into the warm butter and onions.  Toss to coat with the butter and cook for as long as you can stand to wait.  I like it when they get a little crispy, but I'm not usually patient enough to wait that long.

Many people serve the perohi with applesauce and sour cream, but I'm happy with them just like this.

Sit down and enjoy a small plate of perohi before you finish cooking the rest of the batch.  You've earned it.  If you eat too many and get all lethargic, just freeze the uncooked perohi as instructed above, and put the remaining onions and butter in the fridge and reheat them when you're ready for more.

Store cooked leftovers in a thin layer - if you don't they will stick together and become a big solid mass that will break apart when you reheat them.  They'll still taste good though.

Burma: Rivers of Flavor

an army of shallots

It’s my favorite time of the year at the bookstore.  The fall influx of cookbooks is about to begin, and that means it’s also time for a new Artisan Cookbook Challenge!  This year, a few Indie booksellers from stores around the country were sent advance copies of Naomi Duguid’s new book Burma:Rivers of Flavor and instructions to test the recipes on our friends, and I was one of those lucky booksellers.  Duguid's book Flatbreads & Flavors has long been a staple in my kitchen, so I was thrilled to participate.

When I heard about the challenge, I was immediately intrigued.  I knew almost nothing about Burma.  In fact, when I mentioned the book, my coworker and I discovered that neither of us had a solid grasp on the country’s geography.  She thought it was coastal and similar to Thailand; I pictured snow-capped mountains.  Through the power of the internet we learned that the country has 1,200 miles of continuous coastline and a high point of 19,295 feet in the Himalayan foothills - it turned out that we were both right. Hooray for learning!

A few days later I had the book in hand.  I immediately delved into the introductory chapters and began making some of the Burma Basics:  red chile oil, shallot oil, fried shallots, toasted chickpea flour, and dried shrimp powder.  I knocked out a batch of each in an hour or so one afternoon and stashed them in glass jars for later use.

red chile, tomatillo, and tomato chutneys

Duguid includes so many delicious-sounding recipes that I had a hard time narrowing down my menu.  I decided on about a dozen recipes that I wanted to try and invited a group of 15 willing tasters to my little apartment on a Sunday night.

I was pleasantly surprised to find that I would not need to buy any exotic dried spices.  The flavors come primarily from fresh ingredients: shallots, garlic, lime, ginger, chiles, and cilantro.  I only needed tumeric, Sichuan peppercorns, fish sauce, shrimp paste, and dried shrimp powder to round things out.

serving up the pounded beef with herbs

Since I would be at work until 5pm on the night of the party, I started my preparations on Friday night by making three condiments that would hold happily for several days: fresh red chile chutney, sour-plum chutney with chile oil (substituting tomatillos for the plums as suggested), and standout tomato chutney.  The three sauces were pleasantly diverse in flavor and texture and were nestled in the fridge in about an hour.

green mango salad

On Saturday I made the kachin pounded beef with herbs by simmering, then searing stew beef before beating an herb paste into the fibers of the meat with a mallet.  This is the perfect dish to make when you need to let off a little steam!  I roasted several beautiful eggplants for the eggplant delight, which has a subtle flavor that is greatly enhanced by the addition of shallot oil and turns a surprising shade of green when the eggplant puree is combined with shallot oil and tumeric.  I also made the pale yellow shan tofu, which took about 15 minutes to cook but would have to set in the fridge overnight.  Made from chickpea flour, salt, and water, it has a cooking process and texture similar to polenta made with finely ground cornmeal.

Mandalay carrot salad

shan tofu salad

 The shan tofu salad and Mandalay carrot salad were the surprise hits of the night.  Everyone was intrigued by the chickpea tofu and its delicious lime leaf dressing, and there were many exclamations of amazement over the carrot salad.    The kachin pounded beef with herbs had the carnivores groaning with pleasure (myself included).  Also on the menu were minced chicken with tomato and galangal, tamarind-sweet potato curry, and a refreshing green mango salad.  Steamed jasmine rice and a bowl of cucumber slices provided a nice backdrop for the broad array of dishes, and the chutneys provided heat for those who wanted it.

tamarind-sweet potato curry

 One of the best features of this dinner was the cost.  I cooked 12 different recipes to feed 15 hungry people and spent a less than $8 per person, and there were leftovers!  The clearly written, approachable recipes aren't too intimidating but are interesting enough for the experienced cook looking to expand his or her horizons    I plan to try many more of the recipes - this cookbook is a keeper!