Leafy Cooking

Chocolate Pie, Definitive Version

2012-01-16T14:50:00.002+01:00

We did this chocolate pie in two steps, already a while ago. For summary's sake here is definitive step three for a lean brownie chocolate cake. Originally this called for 130 g sugar. Never believe recipes when it comes to sugar.

95 g dark chocolate (try sweetened with stevia for a change)

95 g butter

3 eggs

60 g sugar

45 g white (=peeled) almonds, ground

1/2 teaspoon of cardamon

Preheat the oven at 180 °C.

Melt chocolate and butter over low heat (induction 2), whisk the eggs with the sugar, grind the almonds, add almonds to sugar-eggs, then add chocolate-butter to almond-sugar-eggs.

Bake for 37 minutes. No real need to oil or butter the tin (unless ever so lightly).

I may have a picture of some leftover crumbs.

Collard Green Lasagna

2012-01-11T22:15:00.001+01:00

Let's have tomorrow's lunch meeting at your place, my two co-workers decided. So I prepared collard green lasagna from the Keda Black book (Vieux légumes, le grand retour, ISBN 978-2-501-06774-4, see previous posts) the night before, and an appetizer in the morning. And this office worker became super woman for an hour.

Collard Green Lasagna (served 2 servings each for 3)

1/2 pack lasagna (that doesn't require precooking; I used spelt)

1 hefty bunch of collard greens (with stem, 1 kg)

1 pak choi

250 ml milk

1 T flour

1 T butter

5 slices of dry ham

40 g pine nuts (as I'm allergic to them, I used sesame seeds)

40 g raisins

salt, pepper (and nutmeg)

200 g ricotta (I used cottage cheese)
2 tablespoons olive oil

Preheat the oven at 180 °C.

Butter an oven dish, layer it with lasagna sheets.

Stew the greens in olive oil: first the stems, then add the leaves, lastly add sesame seeds and raisins. Season, remove from the heat, if necessary, drain. Meanwhile, prepare a classic roux by stirring milk in the butter and flour (said portion was rather small in my opinion), season.

Now ladle onto the lasagna sheets: the collard green mixture, ham, cottage cheese. End with the roux on top (using very little salt, I added some parmesan to the roux).

Bake for 30 to 40-45 minutes.

Notes:

No second top of lasagna was mentioned, though you could add it under the roux.

I served a tomato sauce on the side (canned tomatoes, 45' of stewing to make them sweet and to get rid of all moisture), served as a quenelle (by the heaped tablespoon). In the pic is a tiny leftover.

The Great Return

2012-01-11T22:00:00.002+01:00

The return of the old vegetable, by Keda Black.
See previous post for more details.

Even though we hardly have a winter (6-10 °C is standard now), winter vegetables are on our plate. We've mostly been eating kale and collard greens (NL/B.: warmoes) or pak choi (also typed as pakchoy in these pages), as well as root veggies: root celery, parsnip, white and yellow turnip, parsley root, carrot, Jersualem artichoke, horseradish, and daikon. The one root vegetable we couldn't lay hands on was the Swedish turnip or rutabaga.

Parsley Root Married To Apple

2012-01-11T21:57:00.003+01:00

Vieux légumes, le grand retour (Old vegetables, the great return), said the cookbook that I laid eyes on in the middle of a Christmas frenzy in 2010. Written by Keda Black, photography by Akiko Ida, published at Marabout in September 2010 (ISBN 978-2-501-06774-4).

The great return... Ha! This readership knows that this blog is no stranger to the Swedish turnip, the Jerusalem artichoke, and other winter tubers or bulbous forms that verge from deep red over orange and yellow to white, truly the kind that warm us while the sun is entertaining people on beaches in another hemisphere.

But both the photography and the theme seduced us, and we gladly read up on what we don't know about old familiar friends and a few unknown cousins (scorzo nero and salsify).

Now Keda Black does a Parsnip Honey Mustard in this book which I had wanted to do for Christmas dinner, but there were neither the time nor the amateurs for it. So instead I quickly married parsley root to apple, and even some of the picky eaters liked this little festoon.

Parsley Root Married to Apple

Any old or crisp apple or two, lying in a barn, in your fridge, recently purchased.
2-3 or more parsley roots, depending on servings, washed, peeled, and cut in attractive little stalks.

Steam the parsley root stalks for about 6-8 minutes. Meanwhile, peel and cut or slice the apples.

Heat some olive oil in cast iron or metal, add both fruit and vegetable until the parsley root becomes a tender yellow and the apple softens, or if they become a little brown, whichever your prefer.

Eat hot or slightly cooled.

Jerusalem artichoke

2011-12-06T22:49:00.000+01:00

Smokey root vegetables for smokey eyes

2011-12-06T22:28:00.003+01:00

(pic to follow)
Sunday evening in the Northern hemisphere. Winter on the back burner, though temperatures belie. A weekend newspaper spread of one of the Michelin 3-star chefs Peter Goossens cought our eye a few weeks back to stay in a far-out corner of our memory: Fall vegetables, 8 times differently.

Goossens gave away riches for Confit of Belgian endives, Cream of Butternut, Brussels Sprout Leaves, Glazed Celery Root, Baked Scorzo Nero, Glazed Turnip, Baked Jerusalem Artichoke with Vanilla, and Roasted Celery Root 'Fondant'. The idea was to try each apart, starting with fine long pieces of parsley root.

But when there was finally time to cook, a craving for hot and smokey took the reigns. And who says this should be shunned, just because it's Fall or Winter?

So a few of these veggies were thrown together, all cut in different shapes, so as to know during the meal what is what: two medium-size onions, cut in slivers, as chef is fond of slow-cooked onion; long fine pieces of parsley root; one fennel bulb, simply sliced up; three tiny Jerusalem artichokes, cut in small coins; celery root, cut in quarter rounds; parsnip, cut in half moons, and finally round pieces of half a winter radish.

Meanwhile, things were really spicying up with potatoes the Gordon Ramsey way -and it wasn't even Saturday when more damage could have been wrought during the Crooners and Soft Music Hour when things in the kitchen were usualy really bebopping. Cooked for 8 minutes in water, these potatoes, then coated in olive oil and spices. Ramsey modestly suggested a few peperoncini and a teaspoon of turmeric powder, but apart from the turmeric out came a splurge of chipotle chilli powder, and in a pestle havoc was soon caused, especially when chef inadvertedly touched her eye with an invisible whiff of the red powder that should have 'Danger' in caps on the jar. But in the oven at 180 °C these potatoes went, for 40-45 minutes.

Meanwhile in a Dutch oven, the onion slivers were singing away in olive oil for at least ten minutes, as Harry in Venice does, and he knows a thing or two about good food. Here apart from the conservative and pervasive bay leaf, another whim of spices, not some one would associate with a Fall storm or the first bite of Winter: fennel seeds and whole coriander (cilantro) seeds, crushed on the spot, combined with two cloves of garlic and a knife-point of ginger powder.

As soon as the onions were tender, in went the chorus of root veggies, garlic and spices, a good splash of white wine (always optional) and water, the lid went on and this was done amazingly soon, in about 15 minutes. At the last minute, some chestnuts were added and the trophy for that smokey touch: tiny bits of jalapeno sausage, as due to external circumstances this would almost have been a vegetarian weekend.

On day one, we cried; on day two, the leftover potatoes were tastingly harmless, and on day three the mix of vegetables was fantastic. The only thing we'd leave out next time, are winter root (too earthly) and chestnuts (opulence). And we may cut things up less coarsely. But do please mark this fragrant, smokey mix on your calendar, and winters may never be the same.

Cherry clafoutis

2011-12-05T10:08:00.002+01:00

Cherry clafoutis was the one recipe I never was able to get hold of from a lady I once knew. I simply asked for it, and here it is. Some immediately had two more pieces after trying it. I may add it to the Christmas dessert buffet.

Cherry clafoutis

500 g jar of pitted cherries, drained (recycle the liquid for something else) (I had 400 g)
80 g soft butter
80 g sugar
100 g flour
1 egg + 2 yolks (I used two whole eggs)
1/4 l milk
optional: some almond extract and some rum (omitted here)

Preheat the oven at 200 °C (or lower, depending on your oven, 180° should work too)

Mix every ingredient together, milk goes in last.

Grease a baking form, put in the cherries, pour the mixture over it.

Bake at 200 °C for 30 minutes, then lower to 175 °C for 15 minutes more.

Note: This has to be thoroughly baked, though not burned, so watch it. I baked the last 15 minutes at 150 °C. I used 40 g of sugar less, but added 20 g of ground almond.

Beware for the occasional kernel in the pitted cherries.

Yummy!

Swiss Chard is My Best Friend

2011-12-05T10:05:00.004+01:00

A very short missive to say that Swiss chard and Pak choi have been my best green friends this Fall. I have to admit that in these pages I tended to covet a special spelling for this veggie (Pak Choy), but passons. I eat them every week, stewed with garlic or mashed with potatoes, though for pak choi making small muffins is possible as well, the possibilities are endless.

Jerusalem artichoke tart

2011-11-06T14:45:00.001+01:00

Whether this is a Swiss treat, I leave open to debate, but it sure is a Jerusalem artichoke tart. As I wasn't to happy with my last crust for Betty's Endive Tart (300g flour, 125 butter; too buttery and rolled too thickly) I tried it again with other measurements. I was happy with the result, so I post both crust and filling, a surprisingly fragrant affair featuring Jerusalem artichoke. You can omit the cheese.

Originally, the filling (no cheese) stems from a recipe for a stirfry called "Shrimp with Jerusalem artichoke", from the Oriental Step-by-Step Cookbook, edited by Miriam Ferrari (Italian, transl. The New York Culinary Society, 1990). I first made this not knowing what Jerusalem artichoke was, using turnip. Here you coat the shrimp with salt and turmeric before stir-frying them with the other ingredients. I didn't have shrimp, so I used it as tart filling.

Jerusalem artichoke tart

Crust:
250 light spelt flour
100 g cold butter in cubes
100 ml water
pinch of salt

Combine all ingredients at once, kneed to ball, roll out at once. Dust surface and roller with some flour (e.g. quinoa flour or anything else at your disposal). These quantities yielded an excellent crust, which I rolled out thinly (4 mm). I kept the extra bits of dough to make a small apple tart the next day.

Filling:
3-4 Jerusalem artichokes, washed, peeled, sliced thickly
4-6 long small potatoes (e.g. 'Rattes' variety), washed, peeled, sliced thickly
2 onions or long French shallots, chopped
some oil
1-2 Green chillies, deseeded, chopped
1 teaspoon turmeric powder
salt and pepper
either 1 piece fresh ginger, grated (I didn't have it available)
or 120 Reblochon cheese (optional)

Stew onion and potato in oil for a few minutes until soft. Then add the chillies, Jerusalem artichoke, turmeric (and ginger). Add a little bit of hot water and cook softly for another ten minutes. Drain the mixture in a sieve to remove excess liquid. Season that with (little) salt and pepper.

Preheat the oven at 180 °C.

Pour mixture into tart, dot with pieces of Reblochon cheese, and bake for 40-ish minutes. Let cool. Even better the next day, serve with a green salad or a fresh stirfry of Swiss chard (see next post). Something Swiss after all.

It's that wonderful time again...

2011-10-16T23:00:00.000+02:00

One of my favorite kitchen staples. I'm mainly making stews from beef or lamb with potatoes, or using them in combination with quartered chicken. The heat that softly stewed dishes provide are perfect in a colder season, as they warm up the body. Look into Claudia Roden's quince recipes.

Betty's Belgian Endive Tart

2011-10-16T22:49:00.004+02:00

Betty was a prolific family cook I once knew who called everything she made in her tiny kitchen "simple comme bonjour" and who generously shared recipes. If there was one cuisine she knew very well it was French regional. Her Belgian endive tart with Herve cheese perfectly matches my predilection for the savory tart.

An exquisite cheese shop and the purchase of an unknown French cheese a few Saturdays ago was a good reason to try it myself. Here is her recipe. The crust (300 g spelt flour, 100 g butter, 0,5 dl water, pinch of salt, one egg) is the pasta frolla taken from a cookbook from Switzerland called Cucina Verde. One can leave out the egg. Belgian endive is used, but other vegetables -Betty suggested zucchini- will do too. Belated posting, due to some camera problems.

Betty's Belgian Endive Tart

Serves 4-5

1 kg Belgian endive
1 smalll cheese, such as Munster or Herve (anything smelly and soft)
1 crust
2 tablespoons flour
2 tablespoons powdered sugar (*)

Prepare a crust (note: see Nov 6, 2011 post "A Swiss treat" for best recipe).

Wash the Belgian endives, remove all leaves so they can be dealt with individually, dry them, and fry them by the handful in butter or olive oil until they are golden brown. Mix some flour and powdered sugar under the fried endive leaves.

Divide the endive leaves over the crust, and put the cheese slices on top.

Bake at 180 °C for 45-60 minutes (my oven only needs 40-45)

Serve with a salad as an appetizer.

* The flour-powdered sugar mixture isn't a must, but it does add taste. I made the tart again a second time with Reblochon cheese and an endive-fennel mixture, which I had stewed beforehand, but not until golden brown. No tablespoons of flour-sugar. This second tart was excellent as well; fennel lends itself beautifully.

Baking a Science? Not Under This Roof.

2011-08-12T23:15:00.006+02:00

Remember the 4/4 rule for cake, 200 g of flour/butter/sugar each and 4 eggs? Well, forget that. If I can bake the traditional apple cake (3 cm/ +1 inch h.) with 90 g of sugar, you can too. Next time I may even use less.

The recipe I started from, is Torta di Mele on Youtube under Giallozafferano. Here are my changes (*):

7 apples (so freshly picked, one still had a lurking worm)
1 lemon: peel + juice; cut apples in pieces, and combine with lemon juice and chopped peel (for the Italian touch).

Prepare a smooth dough with:

100 g butter
2 eggs
1 teaspoon cinnamon
(*) 90 g sugar
(*) 200 ml milk (recipe called for whole, I used skim)

Then add the following to this mixture:
200 g flour
1 small pack of baking powder
1 pinch salt
(*vanilla flavored sugar, omitted here)

Lastly, fold the apples into the mix.

Bake for 50-60 minutes in a 180 °C oven in a buttered round cake tin (spring form).

Let cool. Omit the powdered sugar as decoration.

Background music: Etta James.

Cooked berry dessert

2011-07-23T20:30:00.000+02:00

A cooked berry dessert, requiring only the most modest of gestures. Why slightly heated? Because the fruit is more digestible. Great for when you have leftovers of cake.

Serves two gluttons

150 g blackberries
150 g boysenberries
1 teaspoon (teaspoon!) of rapadura sugar
1 madeleine (or pan di spagna or a piece of cake)

Take a pan, turn up the heat, add the washed fruit, sprinkle the sugar on top. When the fruit starts to sizzle, let cook for a few minutes. Scrape the fruit together, make sure the mixture doesn't burn or dry. Whenever the boysenberries are soft, that's your key to serve one big spoonful per person.

Unpretentiously good food for gardeners

2011-07-23T20:21:00.001+02:00

An unexpected turn of events: my sister-in-law who's visiting, loves to garden, and plant nurseries are among her favorite destinations. She also has a clear eye as to what work needs to be done. Let it be just the year in which I hardly dirtied my hands in the green patch that I have at my disposal. So we bought plants in the pouring rain, and in a slight drizzle she set to work, planting flowers, and moving bricks and stones to refashion my haphazard herb patch. Luckily I have photos before, so she can show off the after.

As she is unable to garden this weekend, I took a lead, and bought many plants that she can play with next week. I planted some myself today; I guess my own inner gardener was released.

Perfect food for gardeners is green chard stewed in olive oil and garlic, and cooked millet combined with slivers of heirloom tomato (Bull's eye, Coeur de boeuf) and jalapeno-flavored bits of chorizo.

Prunes, prunes, prunes! Recipe to the rescue (2/3)

2011-07-21T10:16:00.003+02:00

A second recipe is just a version of pâte sablée, here based on Laurence Salomon from her book Fondre de plaisir (=Melting of pleasure) (ISBN 978-2733909614). The crust has very little sugar and ground almonds, just what I was looking for. I found the recipe by second degree here, and I give a short version. My original addition is a buffer layer between crust and fruit.

Preheat the oven at 200 °C. I prebaked this crust for ten minutes.

The crust has 150 g flour, 50 g ground almonds, 30 g sugar, 1/2 teaspoon baking powder (bicar) (I had to skip hat) and some water and some oil to form into a ball.

Note: pick your own recipe; the crust here is hard on the edges, due to very little fatty acids. Butter might make it a bit softer.

Simply roll out the dough, put the pitted prunes on it, sprinkle 2-3 tablespoons of sugar on top, and bake for 35 minutes at 170 °C.

This was my addition: I combined oat meal flakes, 3 teaspoons of white almond spread, green pumpkin seeds and 1 heaped tablespoon of fresh white cheese with a fork to a mixture, and I layered this spread on the prebaked crust. Then followed the fruit. This layer perceptibly added to the almond taste of this tart. To add a buffer layer is something that Joanna from An English Kitchen taught to me.

Oh, and yes, I used even a bit less that the tiny 30 g of sugar.

Endnote: if it weren't for the rather sparse use of fatty acids in the crust, I'd consider this an excellent taunt to normal baking. But my mother, a non-cook but very picky eater, ate 3/4 of this tart.

Prunes, prunes, prunes! Recipe to the rescue (1/3)

2011-07-21T10:06:00.002+02:00

Loud alarum! Magnitudes of prunes ripen on trees: yellow, red, green and deep blue. Much too early, because our weather is out of whack. They need picking and a plan. Here are three of my favorite ways to eat them.

First, a German recipe with these bright red prunes for prune compote, which I found very appealing, because it has little sugar and it uses the oven. It takes a little over two hours of work.

Prune compote

Fills 6-7 glass containers

3 kg prunes
750 g sugar
1 knife tip ground cloves
1 tablespoon ground cinnamon
rum (optional)

Preheat the oven at 175 °C.

Wash, dry and pit prunes, and cut in pieces. Softly stew in their own juices until slightly soft, use a mixer to mix them even more. This is necessary for a smooth consistence - I mixed after the first take in the oven, as it was easier. Season with cinnamon and cloves.

Take a large non-greasy oven container. Work in three stages:

1. Add the prunes to the container + 200 g sugar. Mix well, then bake for 30 minutes.

2. Remove prunes from oven, add another 200 g sugar. Mix, bake for 30 minutes.3. Remove prunes from oven, add the remaining amount of sugar, mix well once, bake for another 60 minutes.

Remove from oven, put in immaculately cleaned glass jars and lids, possibly with some special foil drenched in rum over the top (or place the jars on their heads to cool after filling them). This amount is only a nano fraction of the entire prune availability, but this will get me through winter.

Summer joy

2011-07-14T17:46:00.001+02:00

These pictures date from early this month. Clearly they betray a visit to an organic store, and a brush of Yotam Ottolenghi, whose method of preparing eggplant I've adopted since laying hands on his book Plenty. With this wonderful vegetable selection I made Panzanella with quinoa, which he lists in Plenty.

No recipes - just read Plenty.

Two little twists on sauce gribiche

2011-05-26T21:17:00.002+02:00

Everything is illuminated. Yesterday, three things came together: a vegetable, a method, and a sauce. I steamed cauliflower, discovered that Jacques Pépin will appear in Austin at a culinary festival, and I saw two blog items on picnics by Cathérine Piette from Trop Bon with a sauce gribiche à sa façon.

Let Jacques Pépin be the chef who introduced me to this French country classic: cauliflower gribiche. I made it here. There's nothing that can make me more happy than this tart accompaniment for this spring vegetable.

Here is Catherine's picnic blog item in French. Pépin ordered to crumble the hard boiled egg with a fork, and mix it under the cauliflower bits along with chopped parsley and chopped gherkins and so on. Pépin used one egg, whereas Catherine suggests one egg per person, but then Pépin is French and Belgians are Burgundian with more oomph.

Two little twists on sauce gribiche

Hard boiled eggs
olive oil
salt, pepper
fresh herbs, according to Catherine: fennel leaves, cilantro, chives...

Use cold eggs, remove shell and skin.

First twist. Catherine's astuce is to combine the egg with olive oil. Mash the egg(s) very finely with a fork, until the egg white parts blend with the yolk's yellow, and then add olive oil, and blend even more. Season, and add fresh chopped herbs.

Second twist: instead of fresh chopped herbs, more of an emergency really, I added 2 teaspoons of ready-made tartare aux algues - this is chopped seaweed with capers. It's good and it looks like pesto.

With this method for the sauce, why not serve cauliflower bits as a small bite before a meal?

Mayo lover, beware - you might stay on the wagon.

Rice soufflé

2011-05-25T20:05:00.004+02:00

In a 2003 article entitled Book 'Em in the New York times, Jason Epstein recounted he was talking with Alice Waters about becoming her editor over anise soufflé. We may try that another time, though we're not so prone to dessert here. But yesterday we felt inclined to try a recipe written on the side of a box of rice flour. Impromptu cooking, and gluten-free.

Rice soufflé

1/2 l milk

50 g rice flour

100 g almond or apricot macaroons (bitterkoekjes)

another 1/2 l milk

2 eggs

50 g sugar

Preheat the oven to 225 °C.

Bring 1/2 l milk to a boil, add while stirring, add rice flour. Let boil for 5 minutes, watch the heat.

Meanwhile, let the cookies absorb in the other 1/2 l milk. Later, remove, and crumble apart. Put on hold on a plate.

Separate yolks from egg whites, whisk sugar with yolks, and add this to the rice mixture.

Whisk the egg whites, and carefully add them to the mixture.

Butter a cake pan: one layer of rice mixture, one layer of cookie mix, ending with the rice mix.

Bake for 25 minutes. Watch your oven at the end, remove before the crust would burn.

Note: I had two marzipan cookies with a chocolate bottom layer, hence the chocolate color in the middle. Those were excellent. The cookies add enough sugar, so use less than 50 g. We make sure we're extremely stingy with sugar, try to defy all baking laws, and we use rapadura only.

Taty's nasi goreng

2011-05-25T19:45:00.002+02:00

On Monday I collected a child from one of the nicest municipal exercise pools I had ever seen. No coincidence. After a busy Spring, with not even thoughts to collect for cooking, I feel like emerging from as glittering a surface in the evening sun.

An easy nasi goreng by Taty provided dinner in 30 minutes. Recipe from her books Mes recettes anti-fatigue and Cuisine nature à toute vapeur when you have rice leftovers. Even better the next day, for instance with some avocado chopped in.

Taty's nasi goreng

oil
1 tablespoon curry powder
1 clove or garlic, chopped
1 spring onion, chopped
1 leek, white part only (I always include the green part = best part)
1 turnip
1 carrot
1 fennel
100 g mushrooms
(few springs of green celery, addition)

Chop all veggies finely.

Stir curry powder, garlic and spring onion in some oil over medium heat for 3 minutes.

Add the veggies, stew them over medium heat. Taty stews for 3 minutes, but it's longer; stew until soft.

Lastly, add the cooked rice, stir, infuse with curry, turn off the heat, let sit somewhat.

Sprinkle with chopped parsley, and serve at once.

Notes: season to your liking. I added galanga root, turmeric, ginger powder, and a little salt.
Instead of rice I added Italian puntini, a rice shaped tiny pasta that takes 6 minutes to cook.

My camera -Sony Cybershot 6.0 bought in 2006- is getting so dysfunctional that soon I will cry. My kitchen scales are broken as well. Why do some electronics last only 5 average years?

Sunny Side Up, Overeasy (A Photo Essay)

2011-03-13T22:37:00.000+01:00

I end my posting for March with a photo essay featuring the latest toy in my kitchen: an item I've been coveting ever since Peter Goossens is chalking up recipes for my Saturday paper in which he presents many dishes in this. I'm going to be excessively happy with this gadget. Staub. Need I say more?

Risotto di verdure delle Lunigiana

2011-03-13T22:25:00.002+01:00

Another recipe from Emanuela Stramana, Original Toskanische Küche (De traditionele Toscaanse keuken - Deltas), to release my inner Italian. This time adventurous - cutting and cleaning artichoke for a risotto, which I have never done before. There were still some hard leaves, but they greatly enhanced flavor. Wouldn't mind a video tutorial from a fellow blogger on how to clean Italian artichoke! Although the ones I used were Italian, surely they're older and bigger than what is called for here.

Serves 4

2 salsicce or other pork sausage (I only used the tiniest piece of coppa, in pieces)
1/2 onion
4 small artichokes
juice of 1/2 lemon
300 g fresh or dried mushroom (used 2 portobello heads)
some fresh mint
1 tablespoon olive oil
1 cup fresh peas (used frozen, precooked for 8 minutes)
salt-pepper

1/8 l dry white wine
400 g Arborio rice
1,5 l hot meat stock
40 g butter
60 g grated Parmesan cheese

Fry the onion and the sausage in some olive oil. Add the artichokes as soon as the onion gets some color, stir and stew them for a while.

Add mushrooms, mint, and peas. Season with salt, and add the white wine (or water), stew for a few minutes. This how that looked:

As soon as the wine has been evaporated, add the rice. Then proceed as for risotto: adding hot stock ladle by ladle, or, pressed for time as I was, by cooking the rice for said time without removing the lid.

Lastly, stir in the butter (omitted here, for no good reason) and the parmesan cheese.

Instructions for cleaning the 'chokes were: remove the hard outer leaves, cut off the hard tops from the soft leaves, cut the stems at about 2 cm, and peel coarsely. Cut the chokes lengthwise and throw at once in water with lemon juice to prevent discoloring. I also removed the hairs and in fact was at a bit of a loss how to handle them entirely.

Nothing beats the real McCoy, and still no fresh peas, but we all have Springtime coming.

Soup rituals

2011-03-13T21:49:00.007+01:00

Isn't the idea behind minestrone fantastic? Can't help but think of The Swiss Guy (see earlier posts under this label) and his example of bright Swiss peasants who harvest from their garden.

Perhaps only a few pieces of some cured ham or Speck or added, but meat is no must. Fresh veggies of the day are the main foodstaple. And these days it is David Servan-Schreiber who warns, vegetables should be 80% of your meals.

Minestrone is no fixed affair, but varies in each season. Making minestrone on a weekly basis is becoming a bit of a habit of mine, and I like this. I opted for a Tuscan cousin this weekend: Ribollita. My source is Emanuela Stramana's Original Toskanische Küche (De traditionele Toscaanse keuken - Deltas).

I don't want to copy the entire recipe, but will report on the vegetables that are called for.

Besides classic soffrito of carrot-celery-onion the recipe (besides poetato and tomato) calls for:
600-700 g Swiss chard
1/2 head of Savoy cabbage

And I used exactly that. In the picture is the soup before adding extra water. In fact I didn't add extra water until the next day. Eating a ratatouille-like consistency in part one of eating this soup was just as well.

Red Salad

2011-03-13T21:03:00.003+01:00

Longer days, highter temperatures... a soupçon of Spring has our animal nature respond with clockwide precision. We leave our warm nests and scrub patios, remove winter remains from gardens, make cars and home windows shine, dry perhaps the first sheets outside.

Here's a salad that makes the happy laborer's blood pump with even more vigor.

Per person:

100 g red beans
1 carrot, chopped
1/2 daikon, shredded
1/2 red onion, sliced
generous serving of curcuma
pepper
juice of 1/2 lemon
1-2 tablespoons of organic "rich" oil, which is a bottle combining a few good oils, four or five, depending.

Mix everything well, season at your liking. Add perhaps some seeds, which I for once didn't.

Eat slowly. Return to your chores.

Eating

2011-03-13T20:56:00.004+01:00

Jason Epstein was a bit hard of hearing, but he did sign my copy of Eating. I told him that ever since I read his book, I don't bother letting savory crusts rest for 30 minutes. Sometimes I do,
but when I don't, I say, Jason Epstein doesn't bother with that either.

Green pizza

2011-03-13T20:38:00.005+01:00

This is my past week in food. First off, there's so little time these days to sit down and write, but I'll try to write a few posts a month nevertheless.

Green pizza, actually pizza with zucchini and pesto, by EVA chef Philippe van den Bulck, who in the past cooked for a few Hollywood stars (who swear without fail by "grilled meat or fish, steamed veggies and sauce on the side") and worked at El Bulli.

EVA stands for Ethisch Vegetarisch Alternatief or Ethical Vegetarian Alternative. I made this so I had a bite to eat during home chores. I didn't have zucchini. I added chopped spring onions and pumpkin seeds.

Serves 4

1 zucchini
450 white wheat flour (I used spelt flour)
15 g baking powder
2 dl tepid water
2 tablespoons + 1 dl olive oil
2 g salt
150 g basil
30 g parmesan cheese
1 clove of garlic
salt, pepper

Mix the water with half of the basil, the salt and two tablespoons olive oil. Put through sieve if necesessary (skipped that).

Make a hole in the flour, sprinkle the baking powder around it on the flour, pour in the basil emulsion and knead to a firm dough.

Mix the rest of the basil with the cheese, garlic, oil, salt, pepper to pesto.

Cut the zucchini to 2 mm thickness. Put them on an oven plat and season with pepper and salt.

Roll out the dough to a pizza (or four small ones). Bake for 5 minutes in a 200 °C oven.

Put pesto on pizza, add the zucchini, bake a bit longer in the oven, and lastly sprinkle with olive oil.

I wouldn't say this is the best crust (I stubbornly used wholewheat spelt), but this was food for laborers, just like a pizza used to be.

Not so local: Chipotle Chili Licopene Bomb

2011-02-16T20:59:00.011+01:00

It wasn't even that cold, but perhaps in an effort to push winter away, I was going to make a tomato soup with fresh and dried tomatoes that I've made before here. Until I stumbled upon an imported package of dried chipotle chile pods, and things took a different course.

Both my soup and the chipotle sauce as printed on the package failed. But with some disaster management, out came a tomato sauce of puree texture that will see steam come out of my ears each time I combine it with food in the next few days.

Chipotle in Adobo, as on package
12-15 dried chipotle chiles, stemmed and slit lengthwise to remove seeds (forgot to do that!)
3 cups water
1/2 medium onion, sliced
6 tablespoons ketchup (did not have this: replaced by tomato sauce+agave syrup)
1/2 teaspoon salt
2 cloves garlic
1/2 cup apple cider (I used white wine vinegar)

Let all ingredients come to a boil, then simmer for an hour, until the liquid reduces to about a cup. This can be pureed in a blender.

Notes:
First off, I forgot to remove stems and seeds of the chipotles.
Secondly, to me this remained too liquid a sauce. Impossible to puree with all the seeds still in the chiles.
So thirdly, I removed the chiles that luckily hadn't lost their seeds.
Then I added some more tomato sauce and agave syrup, and reduced the sauce over high heat for 15 minutes.
And finally I added, as ingredients from failed soup, 8 dried tomatoes and 3 fresh ones that I had steamed together for 10 minutes, and some olive oil. And I mixed it all.

Out came this licopene bomb, sweet at first, but with a hot and smoky tail.

Now why did I stuff The Sugar Rant, you ask me? I just knew that the oomph of this 'peppa' needed some complement. No sweetness from sugar, mind you, but from agave syrup.

Bean stew with tomato and goat cheese

2011-01-22T22:34:00.008+01:00

Nina, my newspaper's weekend magazine, listed a few oven dishes by an Antwerp chef, Johan Segers of 't Fornuis. Originially this was Bean stew with Sainte-Maure, a commercial lightly ash-covered goat cheese. Think Panzanella, but the winter version with beans.

Original recipe (serves 4)

50 g white beans, 50 g coconut* beans and 50 g bonito* beans (*don't know what these are, I only used white beans), 50 g flagolets (brown beans), 50 g Gigantes or giant Greek white beans: all soaked for 2 hours. Chef says working from dried beans gives better taste (but it is a lot of work). If you have oceans of time or are a professional, cook each type of bean separately, and drain.

10 cherry tomatos, skinned, deseeded, cut in two (I skipped those).
2 normal tomatoes, skinned, deseeded, cut in two.
8 tablespoons tomato sauce (I used concentrate - on purpose, rich source of licopene)
1 clove of garlic, finely chopped
1/2 roll of goat cheese Sainte-Maure (I used an ash-covered organic runny goat cheese, crust removed)
4 slices of bread, cut crouton-style

Preheat oven at 180 °C.
Combine beans, tomato sauce, bread, garlic, and season with salt and pepper. Put this at the bottom of the oven tin.
Cover with the fresh tomatoes, and add the goat cheese on top.
Bake for about 20-25 minutes or until cheese has melted.

Note: an even better idea is to infuse the bread with olive oil and minced garlic, just like Panzanella. Also, add a little olive oil to the bean mixture.

Add some chopped parsley, serve at once. Quick and home-made!

January Food

2011-01-12T21:27:00.014+01:00

January Food: things that keep us warm, such as stews, but also real vitamin boosts, as from these dishes: Smoked Herring Salad with freshly cooked potato and beet, from Michael van Straeten's book of Super Salads, and Sauerkraut. This German meat bonanza is a weird craving, a consequence surely of winter, but pickled shredded cabbage is an excellent source of vitamin C. I buy it pre-shredded.

Sauerkraut: I've posted this exactly a year ago (see label Cabbage types), with an interesting method for the meat by Françoise Bernard. I didn't bother with the meat now. Here's the method from Menu Maison, Henri Kleinblatt and Livia Claessen (ISBN 978-90-2099185-7), for the cabbage. I quote by heart: add 2 dl of white wine or water to the drained cabbage, and let simmer for 25 minutes with a few juniper berries, 1 bay leaf, salt and pepper. Add the Casseler with the cabbage, the sausage and bacon towards the end of cooking time. The fun aspect of Menu Maison is that the recipes are listed seasonally per month.

Holiday Wishes

2010-12-24T11:03:00.006+01:00

Best holiday wishes!

To save both contacts and links, and as my own storehouse for recipes, this blog remains, albeit less actively than before. Wherever you are, may the year's ending inspire you to cook simple yet delectable meals.

Stewed pears in mulled wine

2010-12-11T21:44:00.008+01:00

Day 2 and step 2 to a festive dinner: chicken stock, pears stewed in mulled wine, caramelized onions (Claudia Roden's Book of Jewish Food). The pears are refined. I had this at Oleandri's last Sunday. She read aloud the recipe over the phone so I could make them myself. We each worked with a different kind of pear, but they were from our mothers' gardens.

8 small pears or 4 big ones (a variety for stewing)
300 ml red wine (not more)
1 bay leaf
1 cinnamon stick
2 cloves
1 teaspoon sirop de Liège (pear/apple syrup - stroop)
2 tablespoons balsamico vinegar
juice of 2 limes (or 1 lemon)
100 g sugar (ever strict, I halved that: only 50 g !)
peel of 1 orange

Combine all ingredients except the pears. Bring them to a boil over low heat.

Meanwhile, peel the pears, remove cores, and quarter them.

Add pears to the liquid, and stew for about an hour until done. Let them cool in the liquid.

Even better the next day with some vanilla ice cream.

Seven: A table of six is a good idea.

2010-12-10T22:45:00.005+01:00

The tree -made in China- has been hauled from the cellar and led lights are already shining on its decoration. The florist had a bough of mistletoe which is already above the entrance door. A menu has been decided on for a festive dinner with friends that's becoming a tradition. We're two days early, step two of three or four is for manhana.

The suggestion here is not: plan ahead and have fun in the process, which we heed anyway. The suggestion is that of the Barefoot Contessa: a table of six is a good idea. Not too small, not too big. And quantities you can handle.

Six: You may well be in business thanks to food blogs.

2010-12-05T12:41:00.009+01:00

Food blogs have gotten their share of derision. A bunch of amateurs, who think they can cook, write and photograph. Honestly, I'd sign up for technique, and I wouldn't last a minute in a tv format in which amateur cooks compete under the scrutiny of chefs.

But think of the masses involved who put recipes out. Who share their personal thoughts over souffé or restaurant visits. Think of the interest and good will... and the power. There are chefs nowadays whose entire business is built on teaching people proper technique. Have you ever wondered why chefs are the new celebrities today?

It's been a while since I came across any derisive comments. I couldn't help noticing that star journalist Michael Pollan's booklet Food Rules could not have been written without the help of a foodrelated blog.

Five: Be curious.

2010-12-05T12:20:00.009+01:00

Cooking for me often begins with a spark, with getting inspired by what I see and hear others do. No doubt it is a side effect of deficiencies: lacking memory for recipes and not being so highly ideaphoric to begin with. But a little enthusiasm has never failed me. It has been highly effective to set to work and to let ideas seep in anyway by way of a little improvization.

My first source for online recipes was a place such as Marmiton.org. A few years later, many of the links to food blogs that I now post in the sidebar followed suit. I'm very grateful to Ilva, Joanna, Oleandri, Kattepult, Tanna, Binnur, Mercotte, and many others. Their work has put me to plod in my own kitchen.

So surf and scan the airwaves out there. Cooking is hot, material is plentiful. Scribble down recipes. Be curious. Many sparks will be yours.

This pumpkin from my sister's neighbor was prepared with a stuffing that travelled 9 time zones all the way from Seattle (Tea and cookies). Out came my own combo of mushrooms, garlic-infused bread and winter cabbage.

Four: Have More Meals with Friends.

2010-10-27T14:45:00.004+02:00

Have More Meals with Friends. This is what I thought when K. served coffee and S. made omelette on toast. Food that would rival that of any Californian diner, a few weeks back in the sunniest corner of The Netherlands.

Report more about meals with friends, too. Why not keep these pages, reduce the rhythm of posting somewhat, and occasionally dwell on pleasant meals? There is a decisive downside to deleting this blog: links disappear, and gone is the easy consulting of how tos in my own archive.

Three: Make Your Table Beautiful.

2010-10-14T09:59:00.014+02:00

I'm extremely superstitious about friends giving me knives. And I have one rule: no paper napkins, however casual a meal. But it's time to widen my repertoire in style around the table.

Over the last years and months I've been very inspired by a number of visual stimuli. Beautiful China. Cutlery holders in silver and wood, such as this nifty idea from the city of Huy's restaurant Li Cwerneu. In the blogosphere, there are Joanna's tulips, Tanna's color in a dream kitchen, and Ilva's linnens.

I'd also been urged to live less as a traveler in transit in my own home. Adding up both, the result is my current preoccupation with the elegant table. A table that enhanceth happiness. One that tells my fellow eater: I value your presence, it is worth a little celebration.

So, not only deck the hall with holly. Color, vintage items, fine linnen, wood, plates, cutlery: anything goes. Work in progress, and a very fun thing to work on.

Two: Stick to Local.

2010-10-05T10:54:00.005+02:00

I thought it was for looks only. And I did not think that I would eat something from an edible patch that I had planted last year in my driveway, with cardoon (cynara cardunculus), sea kale (crambe maritima) and curry (helicrysum italicum). I all got these locally from Duizendblad. Passersby stopped to look at the enormous cardoon. One worker thought the plants were all exotic, whereas sea kale and cardoon are actually forgotten veggies.

As I was out of veggies a few weeks back, I prepared some young cardoon stems by cooking them in water first and then serving them in olive oil flavored by mashed anchovy (sieved).

A bit later, an acupuncturist told me to relinquish the banana and exotic fruit and choose the local pear and apple. In the process she completely overturned my competitive sports menu.

So go for local fruit, and for veggies in season. Eat what's good for you, and eat what's good in your region only. Plant something, albeit only in pots on your patio. Go as much local as you can.

I'm very happy to read about LocalFood Express, a service here in Belgium of organic produce from growers in Southwest Belgium (West Flanders) which is delivered to local restaurants and chefs. Chefs like Kobe Desramaults of In De Wulf, eateries such as Pakhuis in Ghent.

One: Eliminate.

2010-09-27T14:21:00.005+02:00

September ends... with a decision. On December 21, 2010, winter solstice, this blog will disappear from the milky way that's the internet. The prospect of cooking and reporting about it no longer fulfills me like it once did. Someone moved my cheese, and I need to switch direction. A small delay gives me the chance to cull some last notes from these pages, as I'm recipe memory deficient.

What triggered this is the difficult period I was in, literally and figuratively in the dark. Me, my home and garden have been under siege since mid-July, for a long, final renovation that isn't over yet (picture). Access to light and fresh air have been limited, although things are getting better. Black window covers have been replaced by blue plastic wrap.
As a result, I've held two things on scales: sitting in front of a computer at night to pen down a blog post after cooking, or spending a few moments outside after cooking, taking in some nature. Guess what carries more weight.

Still, I'm ending this vibrantly, with a lot of joy. I'm ending with seven things that currently make me happy, or with my own lessons or truths during these past blogger years. Eight, if you count the envoi. Enjoy!

September begins...

2010-09-01T12:59:00.002+02:00

September begins... with an interludium. We're taking a break from posting until mid month. We will not stop cooking and posting, but right now there are other things on our plate. See you soon!

August ends with plums

2010-08-31T16:48:00.007+02:00

A very quick appetizer, gleaned from a suggestion with melon made by my local supermarket. Only, I used small yellow mirabelle plums. August ends with plums.

500 g tiny yellow plums, sliced in two halves
a few slices of Spanish or Italian ham
mint leaves

Cut the plums, chop mint leaves, and present every item in layers in a glas.

Serve at once.

Quick curry

2010-08-30T07:42:00.008+02:00

The pic is not that great, but while cleaning house I stumbled upon a recipe for a quick curry, I think by Livia Claessen and Henri Kleinblatt, from the magazine Feeling. Food on Saturday cooked extra muros.

olive oil
2 red onions, thinkly sliced
2 crushed cloves of garlic
1 tablespoon of chopped ginger
400 g chicken breast or freshly peeled shrimp
400 g canned tomatoes
6 tablespoons joghurt
1 tablespoon garam masala
cilantro (or my addition, parsley)

Stew onions until browned.

Next add garlic, ginger and chicken. Stew for 6 minutes. Note: for chicken breast I deemed this a bit short-I precooked the chicken somewhat in plain water.

Next, add the tomatoes and garam masala and stew for 10-15 minutes.

Before serving, add joghurt and cilantro or parsley.

Note: I steamed potatoes until tender and added them to stew with the chicken.

Moon over Brussels

2010-08-25T13:42:00.006+02:00

Moon over Brussels, 24 August 2010, 9.26 p.m.

Haute Cuisine and Babies at Li Cwerneu

2010-08-22T08:30:00.026+02:00

Ever so rarely, when special times occur, we dabble in haute cuisine in these pages. This time partner-in-crime/blogger Oleandri and I ventured south, into river Maas/Meuse territory. It was one of those rare summer evenings, balmy -in the water near the city of Huy, a water-skier towed by a boat performed tricks in the setting sun.
In Huy our stop was Grand'Place 2, where chef Arabelle Meirlaen and husband Pierre Thirifays skilfully hold the reins. At Li Cwerneu - old French from Burgundy times for the bell man, while savoring a 5-course menu of cuisine intuitive, we had a gastronomic evening.
En route, babies were our main topic. How big our surprize then upon discovering that babies and haute cuisine are greatly married in Huy. Even before our starter, a series of color, taste, and hand-picked vegetables and flowers, we heard a small baby noise from the kitchen.
When next we tucked in a Tartare de Boeuf Bleu Blanc Belge with wasabi mayo and Belgian caviar, we realized that chef, husband, fellow cooks and personnel in betwixt work were all tending to a very small infant.
What a feat for mom and dad of this 1-star restaurant, we marveled, while savoring cod with artichoke mash, peas and red beet. Dad's approach was so relaxed, we murmured. This topic stayed on our plates of veal from Corrèze and seasonal veggies.
Around our plates of cheese and sweetness, dad answered our most pressing questions. Was this a girl? Check. Was this a new-born? Two and a half. Did mom breastfeed? Check.
We really thought we had seen or heard it all by the time boxed sweetness and a cup of hand-picked calendula in tea were rounding off our meal.
Not so. The pièce de résistance came at the end: by contemporary means, we were all connected to a number one - a 25-month old. The owners here had more plates to spin than just cotton candy.

Garden beauties

2010-08-18T17:11:00.005+02:00

I'm in dire need of a pick me up. To chase the deluge of last Monday's rain, here's a memory from mid July, when I basically lived on the porch: Achillea millefolium, a curry plant, and cynara Cardunculus from the garden.

Plums, plums, plums, and a tart

2010-08-17T13:31:00.008+02:00

As I'm in the dark all month due to some serious renovation, I'm also in the comfort of no strangers for cooking extra muros. After a walk through an orchard where the prune trees were shedding their fruit on a dark and rainy Sunday, I went to my sister's. I looked into the family fridge. Ouch. No eggs, only cream, no full cream milk or cottage cheese. We managed a prune tart just the same. I had brought my own flour and sugar.

Crust (pâte sablée) from Taty's booklet Tartes et légumineuses (2006).

175 g flour
75 g ground almonds
125 g butter
50 g sugar (unrefined)
pinch of salt
2 egg yolks (note: I did not add these)

Mix together, if possible, let rest in the fridge for 30 minutes, but since Jason Epstein's Eating I don't bother with that. Needed a bit more flour to have a crust that I could transfer to the oven tin.

Prunes in all varieties -egg-shaped, round, green, yellow and red and purple, halved, were ready. Then a short adventure began. What to glean in a strange kitchen?

I combined 1 egg yolk, cream, a bit of semi-skimmed milk, and 1 tablespoon of sugar. And a teaspoon of a liquor made of prunes. First put the prunes on the crust, insides up. Then pour liquid.

This liquid took ages to bake, so we had to bake slowly and for a long time and at a lower temperature. Especially when using wholewheat flour, mind the temperature so as not to burn the crust. Despite the liquid from the prunes, the filling sets, but more so when the tart is cooling off.

Seriously, how much fresher than fresh could this prune tart be?

Revisiting Eden

2010-08-11T10:08:00.026+02:00

Yggdrasil, in Vissenaken, Belgium, where permaculture is taught and practiced in a 12 ha. garden, has renewed its website. Check it here, and do click on the photos. I revisited after taking a course on permaculture some years back. In the picture are two herb spirals. Next year I hope to build one of my own (I'd need 3 metric tons of material).
This (above) used to be an empty farmer's field suffering from erosion.... in 1997. Berry shrubs have been planted at the beginning of the vegetable beds on either side of the pathway.
In permaculture backaches are a thing of the past - no digging, no unearthing soil, but only covering it, with carton, with hay, with mulch, with compost. Good neighbors in veggies and fruits mingle so as to let each plant thrive as much as possible.
Beds are 120 cm wide and bulging with covering material, with walk ways of 50-60 cm in between, covered with woody morsels. Beds seem unorganised, but there is method into this madness and so much variety that looking around here is never boring.
The place is teeming with insect life, rainy day or not... my camera isn't even special, nor did I look for insects, they simply were in view.
Don't cut your trees, just make vegetable beds around them, such as with this small walnut tree, standing in the middle of a vegetable patch. I was greatly inspired by this.
Berry shrubs have been planted in front of the vegetable patches, but here is a small fence which has berries nearby but which also helps snow peas climb.
The place is an oasis of calm, a garden of Eden worth visiting where there is lots to see, pick, and eat. The owners will say farewell to their little shop in September, but the garden stays put, as well as the educational courses. Do go there.

Cookies and citrus

2010-08-09T10:43:00.009+02:00

Annecy in Alpine France is where Laurence Salomon is cooking in her restaurant Nature & Saveur. Here is a chef who does a baking that isn't stuffed with that treacherous evil, refined sugar. As I had some citrus in my kitchen that needed to be eaten desperately, I prepared Salomon's Chocolate chip cookies with nuts, and citrus zest from Chocolat bio, saines tentations (Eds. La plage, 2009). I simplified somewhat-by accident- I forgot the chocolate!

Biscuits chocolats et noix aux zestes d'agrumes (by Laurence Salomon, simplified version here)

200 g small spelt flour (I used normal spelt)
50 g sugar rapadura (I only used 30g!)
1,5 teaspoon baking soda
1,5 teaspoon cardamom powder
50 g dark chocolate, chopped
50 g walnuts, chopped
1 tablespoon of zest from orange and grapefruit
1 egg
2 tablespoons nut oil, toasted (I skipped the toasting)
spelt milk (I used normal milk)

Preheat oven at 150 °C.

Combine flour, rapadura sugar, baking soda, cardamom and nuts. Then add the egg and the oil. Next, add the chocolate and the citrus zest. Add as much milk as needed to form a firm ball of dough (I guessed about 100 ml). Roll dough into a cylinder, and cut biscuits. Put them on baking paper and bake for 25 minutes.

Notes:
I only used the zest of grapefruit. Mmm, that's a discovery!
This yields cookies that remain soft inside. They're a bit dry, but refined in taste, despite my forgetting the chocolate.

Thrifting

2010-08-04T14:09:00.005+02:00

Get yourself a nice piece of ceramics, my horoscope said. So I went thrifting over lunch break at Kringloopwinkel, a working example of social economy where household items await a second life. I couldn't resist these piscatorial items, from a Sarreguemines Service à poisson. The serving plate measures 54 cm. The next day I went back for the saucer. I did not take six round plates, as they ruffled too much my tolerance level for kitsch. Or should I?

Grilled Radicchio Salad with Feta

2010-08-03T11:16:00.011+02:00

August is blue. Blue, because winds turned North-West and South-West from South, saying goodbye heat and bringing back more typical weather, some rain and fresh air. Blue, because blueberries are devoured in droves. Blue, because it's a long wait for some who left the country.

Magazine Puur had a fun recipe with grilled radicchio and feta. In my cupboard I rediscovered the balsamico that one of my friends gave to me last summer. August may well also be salad month. I have to make this one again soon - my camera put new data over this salad's picture.

Grilled Radicchio Salad with Feta

Serves 1-2

1 head of radicchio, quartered
1/2-1 red onion, thinly sliced
200 g feta, crumbled
parsley
olive oil
pepper and salt
3 tablespoons balsamico vinegar

Grill the salad, about 2 minutes on each side or until the leaves are browned.

Wash and chop parsley, slice onion, crumble parsley.

Get out a lovely bowl, place salad ingredients, season, drizzle with the oil and vinegar.

I added one tomato, peeled, deseeded, sliced.

Serve and cheer up!

A Summer's Tale

2010-08-02T11:33:00.009+02:00

A god mother spent a weekend with some kids, among them a four-year old god daughter. Kids with different tolerance levels for food, god daughter being the most picky and difficult one, especially with fruit and vegetables.

Occasionally, god child drops his head onto the table with great dramatic gesture, especially when having to eat minute portions of said food, such as two tiny slivers of tomato.

God mother dropped her own head onto the table, voicing in equally dramatic despair that she does not see god child eat enough fruits and veggies. God child looked befuddled.

One food item was a big hit with all kids: plain white joghurt, of which they easily finished 500 g and nearly 1 liter after a meal, if one didn't stop them.

It was god mother's perfect weapon. "No joghurt if you don't eat these two tiny slivers of tomato". Crocodile tears rolled down god daughter's cheeks. But eat the tiny slivers she did.

Tuna Tuning Out Salad

2010-07-31T10:18:00.005+02:00

All berries on the vine are eaten, July is over and done with. Save for a few tomatoes and a red bell pepper, the vegetable units in my fridge are empty. Brief time to tune out, after serving all remaining veggies in soup followed by a Tuna Salad.

Tuna Tuning Out Salad

Rucola
1 big tomato, peeled, deseeded, slices
1 red bell pepper, chopped
a few pieces of tuna
pepper
sesame seeds
pumpkin seeds

Dressing:
juice of 1/2 lemon
1 tablespoon white almond paste
a bit of water
a bit of olive oil
red pepper corns, crushed
1 tablespoon tamari
clove of garlic, crushed (optional)

Whip dressing ingredients up, use enough water and olive oil to have a runny consistency.

Combine dressing with salad ingredients.

Eat and marvel what August will bring.

Melted Potatoes

2010-07-30T21:08:00.006+02:00

Geert Van der Bruggen in the summer issue of Velt's De seizoenen (The seasons) says that these melted potatoes are the perfect accompaniment to any meat or fish dish. I already had some broth, used less butter and cooked up a much simpler version.

Melted potatoes

By Geert Van der Bruggen, in: Velt zine De seizoenen, No. 4, 2010, p. 22.

Serves 4

12 medium potatoes (firmly cooking, e.g. Nicola)
200 g butter
fresh tarragon, chervil, parsley and chives
pepper, salt

Vegetable broth ingredients:
3 leek, 6 shallots, 6 cloves of garlic, 2 bay leaves, a few sage leaves, a few sprigs of thyme, sprig of rosemary, 1/2 tablespoon of black pepper corns, salt

Here are Vander Bruggen's directions, but do consult my variation on that in Notes: cut the veggies for the broth, use only white part of leeks, add water, add the herbs and spices, and cook for an hour. Put through a sieve.

Preheat oven at 110 °C.

Peel potatoes and cut them in cilinder shape. Put them erect in a pan, and add a few knobs of butter. Then add broth so the potatoes are half immersed. Season with peper and salt. Bring to a boil, then transfer to the oven to stew for about an hour. Here the potatoes will absorb the broth. Remove from the oven, keep warm. Transfer the liquid to the stove and reduce it. Finish with some chopped herbs, then add the potatoes.

Notes:
The hour oven-baking for these potatoes at 110 °C standing erect in liquid doesn't get them properly cooked. A much simpler version is this: melt butter in a pan, add peeled potatoes, add home-made broth until they're half submersed. Let cook over low heat until the potatoes are done. I didn't bother with shaping them. Too much hassle, too much waste.

Cucumber Gazpacho

2010-07-26T14:27:00.004+02:00

No summer complete without gazpacho. Geert Van der Bruggen whose brandade I prepared previously, also has a cucumber gazpacho which he serves with fish-filled wraps. I skip the wraps. No summer complete without easy cooking.

Cucumber gazpacho

Serves 2 generously

By Geert Van der Bruggen, in: Velt zine De seizoenen, No. 4, 2010, p. 21.

1 cucumber
1/4 apple, preferably a sour one
a few drops of tabasco (I use red chilli sauce)
juice of 1/2 lemon
1/2 dl dry white wine (or water or milk)
2 tablespoons fresh white cottage cheese (full cream)
a handful of fresh tarragon (leaves only)
pepper, salt

Peel cucumber and remove seeds. Cut in large pieces, put into blender together with the apple. Add the remaining ingredients including tarragon leaves, then season with salt and pepper. Mix to fluidity, then put in refrigerator.

Serve in glasses, chilled.

Extracting red currant

2010-07-25T13:40:00.012+02:00

The extractor (see under label Gadgets) was my tool to juice the remaining batch of red currant. I had this juice a) plain, b) over ice cream. The sun is doing such a great job out there in a dry summer that the red currant juice plain tasted not sour at all. Do you see this one coming? No extra sugar.

Gooseberry Galore

2010-07-18T20:05:00.012+02:00

Oh, yes, I did stuff with berries this month. Very simple handlings only: go to the vine, pick berries, eat them. Though I had a modest harvest of yostaberry of my own, I couldn't resist a batch of gooseberry.

Gooseberry Galore

Wash + cut 'em, macerate 'em with the slightest soupçon of muscovado sugar, serve 'em with fresh cottage cheese with 1 tablespoon of linseed oil vigorously whipped in, is all I call a procedure.

Hard times: brandade with grey shrimp and cauliflower

2010-07-15T17:14:00.007+02:00

It's hot, but not so hot that I don't crave some potatoes. I don't often eat potatoes, but potatoes are currently a craving. Brandade, usually with salt cod and potatoes, is a poor man's dish. Geert Van der Bruggen has a version with some of our goodies: cauliflower, white fish, grey shrimp. Last week I had a simple evening meal of oven-baked potato and cauliflower. That too might have easily passed for a poor man's dish.

Brandade with grey shrimp and cauliflower

By Geert Van der Bruggen, in: Velt zine De seizoenen, No. 4, 2010, p. 21.

Serves 4

200 g fillet of white fish (i.c. plaice, the only MSC-labeled* fish I could lay hands on)
100 g freshly shelled grey shrimp
500 g potatoes
8 slices of dried bacon
1 small cauliflower
2 eggs
fresh chives
1 dl sour cream
juice of 1/2 lemon
olive oil
pepper, salt

*MSC: Marine Stewardship Council. A must in your vocabulary when it comes to fish.

Preheat oven at 140 °C.

Peel potatoes, cut them and boil them in salted water.

Season fish with salt and pepper, sprinkle with olive oil and put in the oven for 2 minutes (I let it in the oven somewhat longer-7 minutes)

Softly boil the eggs and peel them.

Drain cooked potatoes, let them dry, then mash. Add eggs, fish, chopped chives (keep some chives for decoration). Finish the brandade with sour cream, shrimp, lemon juice, pepper.
Taste; finish with a bit of olive oil.

Put the brandade onto plates, and sprinkle with very finely cut raw cauliflower. Put some dried bacon on top, and decorate with some chives.

My variations:
I used MSC-approved white fish (plaice)
I skipped the dried bacon and the sour cream.
I steamed the cauliflower to a translucent green al dente perfection: courtesy of de Leonie de Sounin's Magic in Herbs, see my post on the perfect cauliflower cooking method here.
For taste, I added some argan oil and chipotle chilli powder (my current fave in the spice rack)

Stop worrying about your finances and eat!

Portobello Mushroom Salad

2010-07-14T09:11:00.010+02:00

I really liked Jason Epstein's casual handling of crustaceans in his book Eating. I really like condiments to sea food on a checkered table: ketchup, hot sauce, cracked pepper, lemon juice, Rettich, whatever. As if I were eating oysters, here is a Portobello Mushroom Salad. Courtesy of The Swiss Guy (see other posts under this Label), who says: rinse mushrooms, then eat them raw. The hot sauce is my idea. I'm no mushroom lover, but this is really great.

Portobello Mushroom Salad

Two Portobello Mushroom heads
1-2 spring onions, chopped
cracked pepper
lemon juice
hot chilli sauce
dash of olive oil
some chopped chervil or parsley for garnish

Everything has to be done quickly. I know one doesn't rinse mushrooms, but being no Italian from Piemonte I do. Rinse them quickly under running water. Cut the mushroom heads in long medium thick slices.

Sprinkle with lemon juice, olive oil, season, liberally coat with the hot chilli sauce, twist the pepper mill, be careful with salt, add the chervil. Serve and eat at once. Prep shouldn't take more than 5 minutes in all.

Now chase your mushroom bias.

Catching summer: minestrone

2010-07-05T22:08:00.010+02:00

'You're crazy,' said my elderly neighbor, a lady who once published her own cookbook and stopped cooking. She meant: to make minestrone with this heat. But I really had to do something with purslane leaves still fresh on stems and peas.

This time I had no stock, and made it with water. Stock is better. But we're bracing the heat and serving decent food.

Summer minestrone

1 leek
2 stems of green celery
1-2 carrots
1 tomato
1 medium potato or 3 tiny ones
1 onion
clove of garlic
fresh peas
fresh purslane

Braise the veggies in some oil, except purslane and peas, until tender.
Season with all kinds of herbs, use pepper, but use as little salt as possible.

Cook peas separately in water until al dente.

Add stock (water) to the braised veggies. if you use water, you will have to add a little salt. Season some more. Now add the peas and purslane, bring to a boil, remove from the heat, taste, serve.

Dog days

2010-07-04T13:56:00.005+02:00

Dog days are upon us. Do we complain? No.
This is a picture from years ago, 4 July, by the North Sea,
of which the waters are currently tepid.
All hearsay, as I haven't seen this shoreline in months.
Spot the little ball.

Fresh berries in a tart

2010-07-01T10:25:00.007+02:00

During more than seven days of blazing sun I checked them everyday by eating some. They were turning dark and big enough to let tartness become sweetness: the antioxidant bombs in my garden. I was nervous. I picked my first crop of berries. Would I be able to do the right thing to do these riches justice?

At Marmiton.org, in a Tarte aux cassis with a pâte brisée crust, the filling consisted of:

400 g berries
3 egg yolks
100 g sugar
25 g flour
and 200 g whipped cream.

Never one to obey, I turned the filling into this:

2 egg yolks
40 g ground almonds
78 g agave syrup
and 250 g white cottage cheese.
And I simply used more berries (560 g).
Fresh berries in a tart

Make the crust (250 g flour, 10 cl cold water, 125 g butter). Put it in the baking tin. Preheat oven at 180 °C.

Pick berries: yostaberry, black currant (cassis/ribes niger or nigrum), and red currant. Combine them with the ingredients serving as filling.

Bake for 35 minutes.

Mission accomplished: a filling that did justice. An extremely fresh, tart berry taste.

July brings...

2010-06-30T14:12:00.010+02:00

I'm writing this after an evening of decadence and bliss in the same Cherry Garden where my sister and I recently collected some bounty. No camera, no company. Just me and the proverbial snake. Seven days of harsh sun had done wonders for the dark harvest on heavy boughs and branches. I picked. I ate until I couldn't see another cherry. The sun was setting in the distance between the trees; I hurdled a ladder and a laden box through tall nettled grass. Meanwhile, the ribes niger or nigrum in my garden is growing in that same good sun. July portends more fun with summer fruit.

Fresh fruit and connivance

2010-06-28T16:43:00.009+02:00

"I ate the strawberries, sorry!"
At risk nowadays in kitchens are recently picked
cherries and berries.
One dictum applies: See Them, Eat Them.

Rhubarb-Strawberry Crumble

2010-06-22T11:22:00.008+02:00

As to strawberries, I'm still sticking to the regimen of eating 500 g a day and plain (in Dutch: uit het vuistje). Exception: last night. I put 100 g of strawberries in a rhubarb crumble. Good call to add strawberries, as it turned out. The recipe from Taty is quite frugal.

Rhubarb-Strawberry Crumble

500g fruit: e.g. rhubarb and a handful of strawberries
100 g bread crumbs
100 g oat meal flakes
40 g butter
70 g unrefined sugar
125 g white cheese, cottage cheese or ricotta, drained
2 tablespoons ground nuts

Preheat the oven at180 °C.

Wash and cut the fruit, put it at the bottom of a buttered cake tin or tart form.

Mix bread crumbs, oat meal flakes with butter and sugar, until you reach the consistency of wet beach sand. Add the cottage cheese and the nuts. Put this mixture on top of the fruit.

Bake for 25 minutes.

Note: good, but on account of the bread crumbs a bit frugal. A random guinea pig liked it, but next time I'll add something else instead of the crumbs. I did add all the sugar (muscovado, from dried fruit) contrary to my wont, on account of the very sour rhubarb. Good idea to add (sweet) strawberries as extra natural sweetness.

Fish and fourspice

2010-06-21T22:42:00.007+02:00

For the first time after two weeks, a period with disciplined workers in half of my home replacing windows and producing dust, I could regain a moment in my kitchen that didn't look too much like an encampment. And on summer solstice day, of which the eve was marred by heavily overcast skies, my newspaper delivered the most incredible: that a summer high was nigh.

Having come home with some fish at 7 pm I suddenly felt elation. A pressing urge was telling me that vitamin D was waiting on my porch and that I was to take full advantage. Cooking fast was key. So I threw together fish, four spices, and young thin carrots, and bingo.

Fish and fourspice

2 fillets of white fish
liberal sprinklings of: turmeric, ginger powder, curry, and chipotle chilli
olive oil, salt and pepper
young carrots
rocket/rucola salad for decoration

Preheat oven at 180°C

Place fish in oven pan, and liberally coat them with four spices. Turn the fillets around, and make sure they're evenly coated. Season with salt (careful) and pepper, and sprinkle with olive oil.

Steam carrots a little (which I didn't), then place them around the fillets. Take some foil, and cover the oven pan. Place in oven for 10-12 minutes (turn heat a bit lower) or until done. The fish is steaming in juices.

Wash some rocket salad, cut it, and decorate the fish. Serve at once.

Note: be careful with salt. In fact, next time I won't use any.
The ginger powder does wonders here for taste and is good against fishy smells.

Dash to the terrace and soak up that Summer Solstice Day Sun until it ends!

Cherries and cold feet

2010-06-21T09:25:00.011+02:00

Remember this? And this? It's starting to get a tradition: ending up in some cherry haven. Save for a few doves and pheasants, my sister and I had the key and the kingdom all to ourselves last Friday evening before dusk, on a weekend with cool temperatures. Key ingredients were rain, some moldy cherries, wet grass and feet, and not bothering to bring a ladder. Still, this was our yield in one hour of steadily eating and picking from a rich variety of cherry trees.

Frozen Budwig

2010-06-15T19:54:00.009+02:00

Would Johanna Budwig frown upon a cup of frozen Budwig? As I was extremely hungry coming home from work, I wanted some fruit, in milkshake or ice cream, and I threw together this concoction.

Frozen Budwig

2 ripe bananas
300 g pack of frozen exotic fruit (quickly rinse off frost)
250 g white cottage cheese
2 tablespoons linseed oil
1 tablespoon sesame seeds
1 tablespoon bee pollen

Put everything in blender and carefully scoop in the loveliest of glass holders.

Beware of brigands.

Bounty

2010-06-14T11:29:00.004+02:00

Solitary strawberry plant, in soil instead of in planter.
Election Day, June 13, 1.37 p.m.

Why Kobe goes to Los Gatos

2010-06-14T11:25:00.010+02:00

In an interview (Sabato, 13 June), young chef Kobe Desramaults from In de Wulf announced that he will be spending a month in restaurant Manresa of chef David Kinch, who is based in Los Gatos and who won "Best Chef Pacific 2010" from the James Beard Foundation.

Why does this young Belgian chef plan this internship? Most likely to broaden his command in the challenge of using whatever local surroundings yield in food, and to resort less to the automatic pilot that chefs ignite when buying their produce at Rungis.

Nothing wrong with Rungis - food mecca second to none, but chefs like Kobe Desramaults, in the wake of René Redzepi of Copenhagen's Noma, who have seen every new device under the stars, really want to work with impediments. They really are the new hunters and gatherers. And that's why Kobe goes to Los Gatos.

For this is what I imagine chef Kinch does: he visits the Love Apple Farm, his royal purveyor, a place where in another life I'd work, or in another life I'd try to recreate, and gathers the yield of the day for his kitchen.

Now here's what baffled me as well. Desramaults isn't using tomatoes until July. He has a Tomato Criterion.

Unlike last year, this winter I have continued eating tomatoes, solely on account of an extremely local producer (7 km) churning out baskets of cherry tomatoes out of his greenhouse. And in the past weeks, I've been eating this bounty from Holland (or the US?):
In short, conditions were such that I succumbed. Because organic seems to defy any season. Because organic goes colorful. I prepared this quick salad in a state of bewilderment, because it suddenly felt like cheating.

Green tomato salad

Green tomatoes (or if you have them, tomatillos)
1 avocado in its prime
cold cooked chicken breast
fresh tarragon leaves
olive oil
dash of lemon juice (optional)
generous sprinkling of sesame seeds
pepper (salt optional)

Lightly heat the oil over low heat and suffuse with fresh tarragon leaves. Pour leaves and oil over the ingredients, combine everything, serve.

Now start ruminating the Tomato Criterion.

Quick bite in town

2010-06-08T22:34:00.028+02:00

Before a board meeting, a quick bite. Mamma Roma, Brussels, Monday 7 June, 7:45 p.m.

Zucchini tart and string beans

2010-06-07T09:14:00.012+02:00

Don't just think that hardly any time for food excludes the home-made vegetable tart. Here is a meal gilded by the evening light of a side order of string beans, stewed in some oil and their own juices, and a vegetable tart filled with zucchini and goat cheese. Hey, why not a string beans and goat cheese tart next time?

Key message of this post: Jason Epstein's memoir Eating has liberated me once and for all of the imperative that we should at all cost let a dough of pâte brisée (in some older posts on vegetable tarts I've spoken of pâte sablée) rest after blending the ingredients. Epstein doesn't bother, and I don't either, ever.

Pâte brisée (my recipe, see also Taty's in her book Tartes et Légumineuses)
10 dl (100 ml) cold water
250 g flour
125 g butter
pinch of salt (or add other spices e.g. paprika, curry)

Combine until you have the consistency of a soft leather glove. Quickly flatten and in one move, drape over a round baking tin. Cut off remaining edges if needed, form a smaller ball with them, and use the next day for something else (like a covered fruit dessert for instance).

Quick strawberry soft ice cream

2010-06-06T22:10:00.007+02:00

Don't spend your seasonal fruit on smoothies, use the frozen version of the fruit, Taty says. She means: eat the seasonal bounty without ado. I didn't have to feel guilty when on Sunday I threw frozen strawberries in the blender to make a frozen smoothie, a concoction resembling soft ice cream. Dairyless, but not vegan, on account of the bee pollen. And watch it, ice cold!

Quick strawberry soft ice cream

2 very ripe bananas
1 pack of frozen strawberries
1 tablespoon nut butter (hazelnut-peanut)
1 tablespoon sesame seeds
1 tablespoon bee pollen

Combine everything, blend, scoop, eat. Look ma, no sugar!

Steamed chicken and bell pepper

2010-06-01T09:47:00.006+02:00

Like May, June will have its share of disruptive moments due to home renovation. The little cuisine we do, will be of the most light and easy kind. Taty's steamed chicken and steamed bell pepper are ready in no time. Light food accompanied by a tasty bell pepper sauce.

Steamed chicken and bell pepper

From: Cuisine nature... à toute vapeur (Taty Lauwers)

4 chicken breasts (with skin if possible)
salt
lemon juice
4 red bell peppers

I oped for orange and yellow bell pepper, to distinguish from the yellow bell pepper strips.
Cut 3 bell peppers in long strips. Cut 1 bell pepper in little cubes.

Steam bell peppers for 5 minutes, then add chicken breasts, steam for 8-9 minutes more. If you like, first fry the chicken in a pan in some oil to give them some color.

Bell pepper sauce: Blend cubes of bell pepper, a bit of oil, with lemon juice and salt. The result is an unctuous sauce.

Eat, then proceed having a mind filled with other concerns.

Meyer Lemon Mystique

2010-05-31T15:41:00.005+02:00

May started with a frisson of emotion in a Californian garden: my first encounter with Meyer lemons, of Alice Waters fame. I stepped up close to a tree, and smelled the thick rind of a specimen freshly picked. The lady of the house does all sorts of things with them in her kitchen and isn't prepared to live in a country that doesn't have lemon trees in gardens. And I, I am left with a new desire: the desire to handle this fruit one day and be overwhelmed by its fragrance.

Three mushrooms for workers

2010-05-28T14:19:00.010+02:00

June announces a bit of domestic turmoil due to a new -and last- episode of renovation. As we are clearing space in half of our living premises, preparing food is almost perfunctory, where it not for three types of mushrooms which shine through during what is essentially a very simple preparation. I'm not such a fan of mushrooms, but the smell and taste of fried garlic do win over.

Three mushrooms for workers

2 portobello mushrooms, sliced
5-8 oyster mushrooms, whole
5-8 shiitake mushrooms, whole
3 cloves of garlic
olive oil + butter
fresh herbs for decoration (chives + flower, sage, parsley, mint, ...)

Heat butter and oil in pan, add garlic, fry, add mushrooms, fry, lower the heat and let cook a little. I put a lid on the pan. Towards the end, add the fresh herbs, let them wilt slightly. Serve with buttered bread.

It's not done, but I rinced the mushrooms with some water, so the mushrooms produced more liquid than usual. You can pick up the juices with buttered bread.

In your face about food: reading (2)

2010-05-26T22:38:00.012+02:00

Do read Jason Epstein's memoir 'Eating' after you read Jeffrey Moussaief Masson's 'The Face on Your Plate'. While the former may serve as easeful antidote, the latter aims at viscerally letting the reader feel how painful it is for animals to be forced into our food chain.

Unlike the hapless animals he describes, Masson has had a few lives, notably as a golden academic unearthing ancient texts, and digging up material in the Freud archives. The conclusions he drew about Freud's work were met with such controversy by dour members of the human species, that Masson turned to animal rights and a vegan lifestyle in a remote green corner of the world.

Masson knows a thing or two about doggedness himself. 'The Face on Your Plate,' as the title indicates, is no picknick. What ends up on our plate is a sentient being, capable of a great range of instinctual reactions and emotions, and poignantly so, of bonding with the human species. Within chickens for instance are "giant characters inhabiting small bodies."

Using scientific evidence to back up, Masson relentlessly demonstrates that animals suffer in the service of our sustenance. Domesticated animals and farm animals do not live in conditions that allow them their natural behavior.

Animals in different industries are held captive, often in conditions so unsavory, that they present a direct health hazard to the environment and to human beings even without being eaten. The Chinook salmon is able to travel more than 10,000 miles in the Pacific before it returns to spawn - imagine this creature in a fish farm.

Animals are tortured, maimed, and killed, and in this process do feel pain, contrary to what is thought. All of this is done without much consideration by humans who are weaving a rich web of denial.

Masson hopes that his reader will feel aversion, and even without a real factory experience in situ of how animals are killed and handled to end up as food, one does shudder and whince. He's realistic enough to realize that his book won't change human habits, but perhaps some people will at least make choices based on consciousness.

In the last chapter Masson states that a vegetarian and/or vegan lifestyle actually has great health benefits. But you can be just as unhealthy as a vegan or vegetarian if you don't eat well.

Here are a few practical tips for good eating:

1. Eat fruit and vegetables;
2. Eat produce as fresh as possible;
3. Eat local food (be a "locavore")

And I would add, with The Swiss Guy (see posts with that label): 4. Right preparation.

Photo credits: thanks to cousin T. and her photographer brood who daily capture wild fowl and other animals in their garden - on pixels only, mind you.

Oily fish salad

2010-05-25T10:30:00.008+02:00

You would think that May is a good month to pick up some free vitamin D from the sun. Think again. A few days of sun and warm temperatures are quickly exchanged here for a drop of ten degrees and a week of overcast skies. That's when we resort to food to pick up the elusive vitamin.

A quick post, as fast as it takes to toss together these salad items: the oily fish salad, based on a can of sardines or herring or mackerel pike. In this case a can of herring in tomato sauce serves directly as salad dressing.

Oily fish salad

1 avocado
1 bell pepper
2 carrots
1 cucumber
parsley, roughly chopped
1 can of oily fish
1/2 lemon juice, squeezed
lettuce
sesame seeds

Mince the fish and mix with lemon juice. Mix in the chopped vegetable pieces, mix well so that they get covered with fish.

Lastly, add some lettuce (not pictured here), toss lightly, sprinkle sesame and pumpkin seeds on top, and serve. No extra salt or pepper needed.

In case you have a can without tomato sauce, do not necessarily use the oil or liquid from the tin, but coat the fish with some fresh olive oil. Combine with lemon juice.

Strawberry Sunset

2010-05-24T19:30:00.011+02:00

No idea whether we are walking out of Strawberry Street any time soon, but I always pretend we are and grab on to any strawberry crate in sight. I was supposed to eat this earlier in the day, but after a warm day at sunset this dessert was just as satisfying.

Blogger Oleandri has honed her Budwig creme making skills and her own recipe for blooming form and motherhood can be found here. This dessert uses the cream.

Strawberry Sunset Dessert

Serves 1-2

250 g-500 g strawberries
2 tablespoons of white fresh cheese
1 tablespoon linseed oil
1 tablespoon agave syrup (optional)
sesame seeds
pumpkin seeds

Wash strawberries, and eat as many as you can during preparation.

Whip linseed oil vigorously in the white cheese, do the same with the agave syrup.

Ladle spoonfuls of white cheese as little heaps in a dessert plate, and put strawberry parts on top. Sprinkle strawberries with sesame seeds, decorate the white cheese with some pumpkin seeds.

Share a portion with someone else at sunset.

Note:
I did add the agave syrup. For once.

Fine finger food in honor of a Great Ocean

2010-05-24T18:41:00.012+02:00

There's no time in the Northern hemisphere I like better than this: the countdown to June 21. Before this, all of nature is thriving, moving to and reaching its most upward position. I'm eagerly enjoying this time, but also feeling pangs of regret that after solstice days are shortening and everything is slowly creeping downhill again.

Nothing better than some finger food to chase that thought, to prepare one day in advance and to take to a beach slightly cooled the next day or to a porch at sunset. It's a vegetable tart without a crust that I've described before (here), but last night I made it without crust and with variations. Use any vegetable, seasoning, flour and cheese of choice.

Crustless Leek Tart, with variations - Original recipe by Lucrèce Roegiers of Yggdrasil

6 leeks (I only had 4)
olive oil,
salt, pepper
dry herbs and spices of choice
50 g quinoa flour (variation) (or any type of flour, but use something gluten free for a change)
2-3 tablespoons breadcrumbs
3 beaten eggs
200 g fresh goat cheese (variation)
a few nibbles of grated young pecorino (variation)

Preheat the oven at 180 °C.

Stew the vegetables in some olive oil over moderate heat together with spices and herbs, (limited) salt and pepper, until tender. Remove from the heat.

Add the flour and bread crumbs to the vegetables, mix well, add the eggs mix well, and add the goat cheese and other cheese with a fork. Move mixture to buttered round tart tin.

Bake for 30 minutes, let cool.

This is so good cold the next day! Perfect finger food in honor of a Great Ocean.

Remarks:
I did prefer it with the 50g semolina flour that I used last time
I copied a trick from Joanna at Joanna's Food that I have to use with crusts: I sprinkled some oatmeal flakes on the bottom. Joanna has several fine crust recipes that are very worthwhile.
She lists them again in her new blog An English Kitchen.
Yep, the veggie tart is here to stay all summer.

Pollachius virens, hot and smoky

2010-05-19T21:14:00.009+02:00

I cook to sustain myself, I mused while munching on mixed greens in the setting sun. Just as I was about to see this quote writ in stone, it crumbled from an overdose of sérieux and a depletion of laughs. So good I didn't tweet that.

Instead I remembered what great fun I get from cooking simple things in no time. All I needed here were a bunch of fava beans and two fillets of fish. MSC labelled, mind you. On some issues rigor still wins out.

Pollachius virens,* hot and smoky

Based on Peter Coucquyt's method in Hoe bereid ik vis (how to prepare fish) of stewing fish in the oven.

2 fillets of white fish (*koolvis, coley, coalfish or pollock)
olive oil
2-4 scallions, chopped
1 sip of noilly prat (vermouth)
1 sip of white wine (or replace alcohol with water)
Fava beans, freshly cooked and shelled
chipotle chilli

Preheat the oven at 220 °C.

Stew the scallions in olive oil, then add the vermouth, reduce somewhat. Then add the white wine, reduce the liquid again.

Season the fish fillets on the skin side with salt and pepper.

Move the fish fillets to an oven dish, pour the scallions and sauce over them, season with chipotle chilli, and place in the oven for about 6 minutes covered, with some paper over them. Check for doneness.

Notes:
Roll fillets for fancy effect.
Chipotle chilli my good call.
Check fish after removing from the oven. My coalfish needed a few minutes longer. Before putting back in the oven I added the fava beans which were quickly reheated this way.
Extra: season with fresh herbs (parsley or cilantro) if at hand.

Two omelettes

2010-05-15T22:59:00.015+02:00

Forget the ocean, though it's near. Forget the pizzazz of Silicon Valley. Sunny dust settles in the tiny farmer's town of Pescadero. The American flag stands exceptionally tall. At Duarte's Tavern, locals greet each other, greet the owners and have a second breakfast.
It's not yet eleven and too early for artichoke soup, though the kitchen is full of Spanish clatter. Pans sizzling and bread ovens warming up. I ordered the Mexican omelette: a perfectly folded thin omelette enveloping one long green pepper.
When I read Jason Epstein's account of making omelettes au bain marie, and over low heat, Duarte's omelette sprang to my mind. And when a friend gave me some very fresh eggs, I tried my hand at it.
As I prepared it without butter, my first attempt still ended up as scrambled eggs.
At Duarte's I had room left for Olallieberry pie, freshly baked and still hot. Thanks, Tea and Cookies, for luring me to the delights of Northern California!

In shipshape shape but reading (1)

2010-05-09T02:53:00.012+02:00

The ash cloud has kept me extra muros a bit longer. So we read.

During a Mediterranean meal this week with friends I hadn't seen for a while, it took little time before we broached the subject of food, farmer's markets and home-grown vegetable gardens. One of my convivial table companions mentioned Jason Epstein's memoir Eating.

The New York-based former editorial chief at Random House wrote in fact two memoirs: one about books, another about his relationship to food, which started in his grandmother's wainscoted kitchen in Maine.

The book is a fluid recollection of lessons in cooking, meals and encounters. Memoir is larded with recipe, but in broad, effective strokes, like a seasoned cook, not a didactic cookbook writer. Epstein was the editor of many a famous chef.

In matters of food, Epstein is no purist, but an epicurean omnivore without complexes. He's knowledgeable about the seafood goodies of the East coast, and not at all squeamish with live lobsters. His doctor put him on a diet, but he ends the memoir with a tarte tatin. The very last sentence is: And life goes on.

Epstein uses the word shipshape in Eating - Tony Curtis was in "shipshape shape" too in Some Like It Hot.

Interludium

2010-04-26T19:40:00.004+02:00

Another extra muros experience. Meanwhile, enjoy Spring.

The Swiss Guy Does It

2010-04-25T19:39:00.006+02:00

Name your favorite cookbook, Ilva from Lucullian Delights said, and she went antiquarian. So instead of Claudia Roden or Harry's Bar or some chef, here's R.Müller, Gesund und leistungsfähig durch richtige Ernährung - Part I & II. Bern, Verlag "Sonnseitig leben", 1975. In the 1970s in Bern they didn't do catchy titles in alternative publishing houses yet.

After lecturing ominously about our need of vitamins and minerals and the suspicious lack thereof in refined foods, R.Müller serves complete meals in his opus Healthy and fit for activity through eating the right food, that take as a standard the foods and food preparation of a black-clad farmer family on a Swiss Alp, who live off their own vegetable and fruit garden. Meaning: benign cooking methods, unrefined foods, simplicity, wholesomeness. George Ohsawa would summarize as follows: "vivere parvo. And don't forget to chew!"

It's feasible, but it also requires us to be completely re-educated. It may require us to yield our own produce, if only on a patio. It's the kind of book that teaches one to think long and hard before filling the supermarket cart with the fine and shiny products of the food industry, to read labels, to become choosy over time, and to rethink cooking methods. And in these fast times that's quite a tour de force.

Sunday snack (2): semolina pudding with orange-banana salad

2010-04-25T19:07:00.008+02:00

On another Sunday full of chores, I prepared this pudding or flan right after breakfast. So that at snack time it was a Quick & Easy move. For this plan The Swiss Guy chimed in (see next post: reply to Lucullian Delight's call for fave' cookbooks). The Swiss guy was talking about making pudding with whole wheat semolina.

Semolina pudding with orange-banana salad

From: Gesund und leistungsfähig durch richtige Ernährung Part I by R.Müller (see also next post, and see label The Swiss Guy)

1 liter water
100 g whole wheat semolina
2 tablespoons agar-agar
2-3 tablespoons nut paste (mixture of roasted hazelnuts and almonds)
50-75 g brown sugar*
bit of salt**
1 small pack of real vanilla powder (and not the chemical vanilline, as R.Müller warns)
fruit (oranges, banana)
liquid cream

Let the water come to a boil, add the semolina, and keep stirring.

Add the agar-agar, mix very thoroughly to avoid lumps, and let boil for 10 minutes.

Turn off the heat, remove from oven top and mix with the remaining ingredients: nut paste, sugar, salt, and vanilla powder.

Pour the pudding in small ramequins. Let cool.

Peel one orange per person, and remove everything except the flesh, cut half a banana per person, and mix both fruits with 1 tablespoon of liquid cream.

Notes:
*Sugar: drastic as I am, I used only 2 tablespoons of muscovado sugar.
**I didn't add salt as this heavenly nut paste from a brand called Monki already contains salt.

I liked this, but as a fan of The Swiss Guy I'm pretty much biased. Serving this to eaters able to voice (dis)like would be a good litmus test-I'll bet that on account of the jellification and the brown color, most wouldn't be too fond.

Sunday snack (1): des(s)ert islands

2010-04-18T18:01:00.007+02:00

No, reader, this isn't some half-baked attempt at molecular cooking. It is my take on the healthy snack on a Sunday full of chores. With weeks so stuffed in March and April, I was happy to even have Sundays full of chores. However, hours after brunch, the stomach doth protest, and that's when we scavenge the kitchen for something Quick and Good.

Des(s)ert Islands

Spoonfuls of kefir
1 banana, mashed
Generous sprinkling of bee pollen
Generous sprinkling of cinnamon

Spoon everything on the kefir, and check for anthropomorphism (a horse?).

Mix and eat. No added sugar.

Al fresco: springtime minestrone

2010-04-17T20:26:00.010+02:00

Last week the minestra at an Italian local restaurant was not exactly the same as the one I had ordered there a few months back. On both accounts however it was greatly satisfying both to palate and the eye.

So it dawned on me: minestrone takes advantage of the cook's taste for color, his whim or the season's vegetables. This soup looked prim with its slivers of yellow bell pepper, a green leafy vegetable and soy sprouts. And it also had brown beans, chickpeas and white beans tossed in.

So after cleaning out my fridge first to be methodical about buying my weekend vegetables next, I got hold of some springtime stars -fresh pea pods! bright green-leaf paksoy!- and made my own springtime minestrone. I've posted the drill before.

To summarize my cues from The Harry's Bar Cookbook, here are 3 big steps:

1. Frying an onion for 10-15 minutes until browned.
2. Adding the vegetables and stewing them for 15 minutes with a bay leaf and seasoning.
3. Adding both broth and tomato paste, letting come to a boil, then letting simmer for 15' minutes. If the soup's too thick, add some more boiling water.

I quickly made my own 15' vegetable broth mainly with leek and winter turnip - 15 minutes is my favorite cue in soup making.
Then I was getting all geared up, realizing this could be my first evening meal al fresco.
The sun was abundant while I was chopping away. Here are my spring vegetables and legumes:
-leek
-green celery
-carrot
-1 tomato, peeled
-green peas
-1/4 huge red bell pepper
-pakshoy leaves, chopped
-1 new potato
-brown and white beans and a few chickpeas

Note: it was my first meal al fresco on a day without airplanes and a sunset tinged by volcanic ash.

A few quick sandwiches

2010-04-13T15:28:00.004+02:00

For lunch time in between two meetings with contractors, I had foreseen a few sandwiches for my architect who drinks English tea. I had the sandwiches ready in the fridge in plastic wrap. But he forgot to jot it down in his agenda, and didn't show. So I ate some myself, and have some to spare. And then led the meetings myself.

A few quick sandwiches

Buy Belgian soft sandwiches ("sandwich"/"sandwichen")
Butter them

Sandwich #1: Cooked ham-Mustard-Tomato

Add ham, spread with mustard, add a peeled and deseeded tomato piece.

Sandwich #2: Fenugreek and cheese (cheese with fenugreek seeds)

Either cheese with fenugreek seeds in them or cheese with ground fenugreek seeds on top.

Sandwich #3: Paprika cottage cheese and chervil (see instruction)

Mix 1 tablespoon of linseed oil with 2 tablespoons of cottage cheese and 1 teaspoon of paprika powder (or any spice of choice). Taste, salt a little if needed. Whisk well. Spread on sandwich. Finish with chopped chervil.

Mystery herb's identity unveiled: anise hyssop

2010-04-11T13:15:00.004+02:00

Herb nusery and plant seller Duizendblad couldn't post this, but this is what she wrote about our mystery herb in ice cream:

"without having a sniff - then I would be sure - I'd say Agastache foeniculum (dropplant) or anise hyssop. It should smell of anise and mint...."

Signs of Spring, cont'd

2010-04-07T12:26:00.004+02:00

Do you remember this? Well, here's the update for you. Not a single credit goes to me-the previous owners planted these.

Still nippy for the time of year. Last year I had my first evening meal al fresco on 19 April. I hope to post one soon.

Herb cottage cheese ice cream, but which herb?

2010-04-05T12:54:00.013+02:00

Without even having repotted herbs yet, one herb that I planted last summer resurfaced without ado. One problem: I don't know its name. Perhaps pineapple something. Was it pineapple sage? Duizendblad, you royal purveyor, can you help?
Anyway, 20 fresh leaves were picked -still immaculate before the onslaught of summer insects, and I impulsively got out the ice cream maker and Peter Bauwens' ice cream manual to make herb cottage ice cream.

Herb cottage cheese ice cream

20 freshly picked leaves of a green herb, well rinsed
1 tablespoon agave syrup (or any other natural fruit syrup)
2 tablespoons of fresh cream

Combine all three ingredients, and mix them. Put this extremely tasty and fragrant appareil (as the French say for anykind of preliminary mix) in the fridge for about 20 minutes.

Get the ice cream maker out of its winter burrow.

Combine the appareil with 250 g of white cottage cheese. Mix by hand, then pour over in the ice cream maker and make ice cream.

The result: very dense thick mix, really very much cottage cream still, as in my ice cream maker the result is merely rendering this mixture cold quickly, but imagine feeding this in small scoops to a table of four.

Happy Easter!

2010-04-05T11:45:00.004+02:00

Happy Easter! This installation was set up and photographed for me by I.S., clever boy of eight, a couple of weeks ago. The giant blue egg is his. He had a lot of fun trying different settings and lighting with his dad's camera.

Fish, fish, fish! Haddock stew with tomato and shallots

2010-04-02T19:22:00.014+02:00

It's always a pleasure to come back to one of my first ever consulted sources for recipes online. Ofimer, the French Dept of Fish, is one of them. Invariably I opt for the most simple of recipes, as in these pages I hold both cooking from scratch and simplicity in high regard. I may be preoccupied more with spring cleaning these days, but it doesn't mean that good food is falling off the radar.

Cocotte d'églefin aux tomates et échalote - Haddock stew with tomato and shallots

Recipe from: Ofimer.fr.

600 g haddock in fillets
8 tomatoes, peeled
5 shallots
5 cl white wine
10 cl vegetable stock, piping hot
40 g butter
2 bay leaves
salt and pepper

Stew the shallots in the butter over low heat for about 10 minutes. Season with salt and pepper.

Add the tomatoes, then stew for 5 minutes.

Add the broth and white wine, and the bay leaves, and let simmer softly for 10 minutes.

Put the fish on top, and cook for 5 minutes, and then for another 5 minutes.

Serve at once, fish on top of the tomato and shallot mixture. As simple as bonjour.

An Easter Color: Red cabbage slaw

2010-04-01T09:21:00.007+02:00

Isn't deep purple perfect for Easter? Red cabbage slaw which needs a few hours of macerating is good food to make on another day of chores. There is a real prospect here on a double level: the chores and the food.

Red cabbage slaw

Salad from a movement called Mazdaznan, in Greet Buchner, Wegen naar gezondheid (Ways to Health).

1/2 red cabbage, sliced, and washed (the color of the water turns blue)
3 tablespoons oil
1 teaspoon (or less) salt
curry powder
1 teaspoon of sugar (omitted here *)
1 onion, chopped
1/2 lemon, juiced

Combine all the ingredients, and mix well.

I did not use the onion today, but 3 spring onions and a bunch of chopped chives.

*When stark sober, not ill, not craving sunshine, and not faced with Dutch licorice in a gas station, this blog writer doesn't buy the teaspoon of sugar in food.

Getting chummy with young herring

2010-03-28T16:50:00.010+02:00

The week before an early Easter: fresh fava beans and green peas, daylight saving time, Spring cleaning, eggs, tulips, and fish with an MSC label - Marine Stewardship Council. The supermarket had MSC labelled young herring -maatje in Dutch- so this fish was game for lunch. Good fuel for the afternoon chores.

Young Herring (Maatje) Salad

Taking the three main ingredients from a salad by Michael van Straeten in his book Super Salads -chickpea, red bell pepper and herring- then doing my own thing.

1 yellow bell pepper, chopped
1 red onion, chopped
2 young herring fillets (2 maatjes), cut in pieces
1/2 can of chickpeas, rinsed well
1/2 cucumber, chopped
sesame seeds
pumpkin seeds
A few salad leaves
chives, chopped
argan oil (for its nutty taste)
pepper
a dash of chipotle chili powder (for oomph)

Arrange the salad leaves on a plate, and fill with the chopped vegetables, seeds and onion, which all have been mixed and coated with argan oil. End with the herring on top.

Devour, then continue working.

Sortie à Mons

2010-03-28T08:31:00.008+02:00

Outing in the hilly city of Mons, just voted cultural capital of Europe in 2015. Apart from its amazing collegial church in Brabant high gothic style (15th century), its Gutenberg Bible, its fine food and utopian Mundaneum archive, I also admired some unusual pastries in this bakery rue de Nimy. Mons really merits another long visit.

Pommes de terre (marzipan)

Covered fruit pastries, very unusual.

Litzer, very unusual (they probably mean Linzer).
Luxembourgeoise, very unusual.
Maybe the baker has Alsace or Lorraine roots.

Goat Cheese and Fresh Peas in Spring

2010-03-26T21:04:00.006+01:00

Wholeheartedly Yes to impermanence! Thanks to impermanence I never have to experience this past week again. So full, days so long, that everything in my home reached the state of disuse. Fresh peas opened my tired eyes, and I could still muster this Spring salad.

Shell and cook fresh peas long enough.
Combine radishes with cucumber and chopped parsley.
Make a vinaigrette with finely chopped red onion.
Peel a tomato and dice or slice.
Put fresh goat cheese in the middle of a plate.

Combine.

Chew.

Slow down.

Passing the Tropical Fruit Test: Green Mango Dessert

2010-03-11T16:45:00.013+01:00

The other day I was watching a TV series on the preparation of a huge Franco Dragone show. The show followed some gymnasts from Brazil. I saw them buy limes at one of our local supermarkets for making caipirinhas. I winced. Limes here are famously dry and unjuicable. I shrunk in anticipated disappointment. Interestingly, the Brazilians had not juiced the limes, nor mashed them in quarters bits with peel left on, but used whole limes, peeled. But their comments were cleverly cut from the program.

Here is a quick fruit snack using small green-skinned but ripe mangos that do pass a Severe Tropical Fruit test in our northern hemisphere.

Passing the Tropical Fruit Test: Green Mango Dessert

Serves 1

1 small ripe green mango, peeled, flesh removed and chopped
2 tablespoons cottage cheese
1 teaspoon lin seed oil
1 speculoos cookie (can be substituted by bee pollen).

Whisk the lin seed oil in the cottage cheese.

Reduce speculoos cookie to crumble consistency with a fork.

Take a glass, fill with mango, add the cottage cheese on top, and end with the crumbled cookie.

Dreaming of catching summer: minestrone

2010-03-10T10:41:00.008+01:00

Two experiences set off wanting to eat this soup: a friend's vegetable soup which used as a base her mother's fantastic home-made sterilized summer tomatoes, to which she added a bit of leek and onion, and a visit to a local Italian restaurant where I tried the minestrone.

I also used dry gigantes elephantes, as they are called in Greece, aka the great white, the jumbo white bean, soaked overnight and cooked with fresh sage, ready for further use. I glanced over at the Harry's Bar cookbook for their Minestrone recipe with my own additions (beans, pancetta) or slight changes.

Dreaming of catching summer: minestrone

My additions:
200 g Gigantes or jumbo white beans, cooked
1 slice of pancetta, chopped in pieces
1 clove of garlic

Harry's Bar Cookbook ingredients:
2 tablespoons olive oil
30 g butter
1 onion, sliced
1 celery rib, diced
2 leeks, thinly sliced
1 large tomato
2 small zucchini
A small wedge of Savoy cabbage
1 medium potato
1 medium carrot
6 asparagus spears (omitted here)
1 bay leaf
salt, pepper
2 liter boiling water or chicken stock
80 ml tomato sauce (I used tomato concentrate)
freshly grated Parmesan cheese

Sauté the onion in olive oil, add half of the butter, wait until the onion is well browned after 10-15 minutes. This browning is indeed key to taste.

Add the pancetta, garlic, beans and remaining vegetables, bay leaf, salt and pepper, and stew until the vegetables are tender. In all about 15-25 minutes.

Add the stock, and the tomato sauce. Bring to a boil, reduce the heat, and let simmer for about 15 more minutes.

Stir in the remaining butter and adjust the seasoning.

Serve to plenty of folk, and imagine catching next summer in a jar.

Scaloppina al limone

2010-03-08T23:37:00.014+01:00

So trying out a new local Italian restaurant (minestrone, swordfish) did not remain without some effect. A few weeks later, I prepared a minestrone myself (see next post), and suddenly I fancied eating veal scallops, which I prepared with lemon and served with stuffed zucchini (see previous post). For the meat Harry's Bar Cookbook served me well. I used cilantro instead of parsley.

Scaloppina al limone

Serves 2

See Harry's Bar Cookbook (which I didn't follow faithfully - Harry says to preheat the oven at 200 °C - I did not use the oven)

Veal Scallops
Lemon juice
Olive oil
Butter
Flour for dredging
Salt, pepper
Parsley (I used cilantro)

Coat the veal scallops with some flour, remove excess flour.

Heat the olive oil - add the meat and cook over hight heat as rapidly as possible, Harry says, not more than 2 minutes each side.

Remove meat from pan (and place it in the oven to cook some more briefly - I cooked longer in the pan), scrape off excess fat, meat and flour, crank up the heat, add some stock or water, add lemon juice, pepper and salt, cook for a minute or so to make a sauce from all of this.
At the last moment add the parsley until it wilts.

Serve at once.

Side Order of Stuffed zucchini

2010-03-08T23:10:00.009+01:00

Spotting some round zucchini at the supermarket resulted in a simple gesture later at home: stuffing them. An easy side dish for meat (see next post). Explaining the procedure takes longer than preparing.

Side Order of Stuffed zucchini

Serves 4

4 round zucchini
2 onions, chopped
2 cloves of garlic, chopped
optional: fresh herbs (e.g. sage) or parsley
cheese (soft -pâte molle- I used Pas de rouge -cow's milk, with red washed rind)

Cut of the heads of the zucchini, then with a knife cut loose a quadrangle, then scoop out the zucchini flesh with a tablespoon until you arrive at a nice stuffable round hole.

Steam these zucchini bottom up with the lids quickly, perhaps only 2 minutes, until 3/4 done. Everything should still be firm.

Meanwhile stew the chopped onion, garlic together with the chopped flesh of the zucchini (the firm parts with less seeds). Season, add herbs or parsley and pieces of cheese at the end until the cheese melts. I used some slices of pakhsoy as decoration (and not sage, as I wrote previously).

Fill the zucchini with this mixture, and serve. Variations are legion.