Once the summer temperatures finally reach their peak, I know I can expect our local farmer’s market to be overflowing with beautiful vegetables, fruit, flowers, cheese . . . and people. The growing season is short in Wisconsin, and it seems like everyone counts the days until this point since the wave of produce and people tend to converge on the center of town on the same weekend. Get to the farmer’s market early or you’re going to have to make do with the scraps.
Our strategy at the market is pretty straightforward: get to our favorite stands first to nab the best selection of the two to three things we absolutely want to get, then spend the rest of our time strolling through the market to see what else looks good. In mid July, it’s the tomato lady first so I can get a good ten to 15 pounds of Romas for roasting. If the tomatoes look especially good and I’m feeling ambitious, I’ll take everything she has.
An offshoot of our weekly farmer’s market ritual, roasting tomatoes for sauce has become an event of its own. Most weekends I spend either Saturday or Sunday afternoon filling the house with the irresistible scent of tomatoes, garlic, onions and herbs, then freezing the results so that we can enjoy this little piece of summer all through the winter. It’s a simple recipe, but the preparation can be putzy, as my mother would say, if you’re using larger tomatoes. But once the tomatoes are in the oven, they just stay there for three hours, leaving me time to putter through the house doing other things.
I prefer Romas for this recipe because their meaty texture holds up well to the roasting process and they caramelize nicely. Honestly, though, I have used all different kinds of tomatoes from cherry to beefsteak and had nice results. If your tomatoes taste more acidic, you may want to add sugar to the mixture when you’re turning the roasted tomatoes into sauce. If you are using a thinner, less meaty tomato, either leave them whole (as with cherry tomatoes) or reduce the temperature (as with beefsteak or other tomatoes) to keep them from burning. And enjoy playing with different combinations of flavors, both when roasting and when creating the sauce. The roasted tomatoes make an excellent foundation for many different dishes.
Ingredients:
Olive oil
10-15 pounds fresh Roma tomatoes
1 large or 2 small onions, roughly chopped
8 cloves fresh garlic, smashed, peeled, and roughly chopped
¼ cup chopped fresh herbs (basil, oregano, thyme, chives)
Salt & pepper to taste
Prepare 2-3 glass lasagna pans by drizzling 2-3 tsp of olive oil in each and tilting the pan to spread it. Preheat oven to 300° F.
Wash tomatoes and drain. If the tomatoes are 2” or less in length, leave them whole and spread them in a single layer in the pans. If they are larger, slice them in half, scoop out the seeds, and place them cut-side up in the pans. Sprinkle salt and pepper over the tomatoes.
Scatter the onions, garlic and herbs evenly over the tomatoes. Drizzle olive oil lightly over the top. If you are using whole tomatoes, you can toss the whole mixture with your fingers to mix well; for halved tomatoes, leave the “layered” mixture intact.
Roast tomatoes for three hours uncovered. Browning is good, even deep browning, but burning is not, so monitor the tomatoes’ progress and adjust the temperature downward if needed.
Remove the tomatoes from the oven and allow to cool on the stovetop.
Decision point 1: Freeze whole or puree first?
Freeze some of the tomatoes whole in a freezer bag if you like to toss a few of them into another dish (e.g., risotto) to add color and flavor.
Use a food processor to chop to desired consistency if you would like to use the tomatoes for sauce. Include the garlic and onions when you chop. Proceed to Decision Point 2 to create your sauce, or freeze into portion-sized containers for future use.
Decision point 2: What kind of sauce to make? Here are two options:
Rich tomato sauce: Pour chopped tomato mixture into a heavy saucepan and heat over a medium flame. Stir in vegetable broth, chicken stock or white wine to thin to desired sauce consistency (I use about ½ cup of liquid). Stir in 2-3 tsp balsamic vinegar, and add salt, pepper, and additional herbs to taste. Serve over pasta, use as a base for lasagna or pizza, or whatever suits your mood.
Tomato & Italian sausage sauce: Brown 1 lb. of Italian sausage in a pan. Add ½ cup diced onion and 1 diced bell pepper and sauté until onions are translucent. Pour tomato mixture over the top, adding 1-2 tsp balsamic vinegar and stirring well. If the mixture is too thick, add some liquid (white wine or broth) to thin to desired consistency. Serve over pasta.
Enjoy!
How do you use your roasted tomatoes? Let me know at pythiallc@yahoo.com.
Thursday, July 15, 2010
Monday, July 5, 2010
The Ultimate in Comfort Food: Guinness-Braised Brisket
The ultimate comfort food, in my definition, is slow-cooked, hearty, and involves garlic and/or onions in some way. This doesn’t particularly match well to summer, when we avoid heating the entire kitchen with the oven while the air conditioning chugs to keep the house cool. However, when the craving hits, it must be satiated.
Braising is one of my favorite cooking techniques for comfort food because it creates moist, flavorful meat that falls apart without need for a knife. Braising involves simmering the meat in liquid that is ultimately served with it. This differs from poaching, a technique that also cooks the meat in liquid but the liquid is eventually discarded. Braising is well-suited to tougher (and often less expensive) pieces of meat like brisket where extended simmering breaks down the connective tissue and allows the flavors to fully permeate the meat. Tender cuts of meat like tenderloin or chicken breasts do better with faster dry-cooking methods; braising only toughens the muscle because there is no connective tissue or fat to break down.
In preparation for friends coming to dinner, I decided to go with a no-miss favorite: Guinness-braised brisket. Most people think of brisket as a barbecue favorite, but I’ve never actually tried it that way. I came across this recipe in Bon Appetit magazine from October 2009 and have made minor modifications to it to suit my taste and portion sizes (the original recipe serves 12, mine serves 6). I’ve increased the proportion of herbs, garlic and Guinness to beef because I think it provides a more intense flavor and it makes a really good sauce at the end.
In total, this recipe takes three hours in the oven plus 15-30 minutes of prep time. Much of the oven time is hands-off, which allows plenty of opportunity for making side dishes, cleaning the house for guests, or lounging and drinking the rest of the Guinness.
Ingredients:
1 Tbsp Kosher salt
2 tsp freshly ground black pepper
2 tsp dry mustard powder
2 Tbsp chopped fresh sage
1 Tbsp dried thyme
3 lbs flat-cut brisket, trimmed but with some fat still remaining
3 cups vegetable broth or low-sodium chicken broth
1 12-oz. bottle of Guinness beer
4 bay leaves
2 tsp (packed) dark brown sugar
3 cups sliced onions
6 whole garlic cloves, peeled
1 Tbsp whole grain Dijon mustard
1 Tbsp malt vinegar
My Le Creuset Dutch oven works well for this recipe, but any heavy, ovenproof pot with a lid will work. You can also use a heavy roasting pan and cover it with foil when needed.
Position rack in center of oven and preheat to 350° Fahrenheit. Mix the first 5 ingredients in a small bowl. Rub all over brisket.
Heat 2 cups of the broth in a heavy, ovenproof pot until it comes to a boil. Stir in Guinness, bay leaves and brown sugar and return to a boil. Add the brisket fat-side down and scatter the onion slices and garlic on top. Put on the lid and braise in the oven for 1 hour. Turn the meat over so that the onions and garlic fall into the liquid and the meat is fat-side up. Cover and braise for 2 more hours. Check periodically to ensure there is enough liquid in the pot, adding more broth if necessary.
Turn off the oven. Place the meat on an ovenproof platter and cover with foil, returning it to the oven to keep warm. Remove the bay leaves from the remaining juices and pour the juices into a saucepot. Add mustard and malt vinegar and stir. Heat the mixture well, then puree using a stick blender. Remove the meat from the oven and slice across the grain. Serve slices with the sauce. The brisket goes very well with potatoes—mashed, steamed or baked.
Braising is one of my favorite cooking techniques for comfort food because it creates moist, flavorful meat that falls apart without need for a knife. Braising involves simmering the meat in liquid that is ultimately served with it. This differs from poaching, a technique that also cooks the meat in liquid but the liquid is eventually discarded. Braising is well-suited to tougher (and often less expensive) pieces of meat like brisket where extended simmering breaks down the connective tissue and allows the flavors to fully permeate the meat. Tender cuts of meat like tenderloin or chicken breasts do better with faster dry-cooking methods; braising only toughens the muscle because there is no connective tissue or fat to break down.
In preparation for friends coming to dinner, I decided to go with a no-miss favorite: Guinness-braised brisket. Most people think of brisket as a barbecue favorite, but I’ve never actually tried it that way. I came across this recipe in Bon Appetit magazine from October 2009 and have made minor modifications to it to suit my taste and portion sizes (the original recipe serves 12, mine serves 6). I’ve increased the proportion of herbs, garlic and Guinness to beef because I think it provides a more intense flavor and it makes a really good sauce at the end.
In total, this recipe takes three hours in the oven plus 15-30 minutes of prep time. Much of the oven time is hands-off, which allows plenty of opportunity for making side dishes, cleaning the house for guests, or lounging and drinking the rest of the Guinness.
Ingredients:
1 Tbsp Kosher salt
2 tsp freshly ground black pepper
2 tsp dry mustard powder
2 Tbsp chopped fresh sage
1 Tbsp dried thyme
3 lbs flat-cut brisket, trimmed but with some fat still remaining
3 cups vegetable broth or low-sodium chicken broth
1 12-oz. bottle of Guinness beer
4 bay leaves
2 tsp (packed) dark brown sugar
3 cups sliced onions
6 whole garlic cloves, peeled
1 Tbsp whole grain Dijon mustard
1 Tbsp malt vinegar
My Le Creuset Dutch oven works well for this recipe, but any heavy, ovenproof pot with a lid will work. You can also use a heavy roasting pan and cover it with foil when needed.
Position rack in center of oven and preheat to 350° Fahrenheit. Mix the first 5 ingredients in a small bowl. Rub all over brisket.
Heat 2 cups of the broth in a heavy, ovenproof pot until it comes to a boil. Stir in Guinness, bay leaves and brown sugar and return to a boil. Add the brisket fat-side down and scatter the onion slices and garlic on top. Put on the lid and braise in the oven for 1 hour. Turn the meat over so that the onions and garlic fall into the liquid and the meat is fat-side up. Cover and braise for 2 more hours. Check periodically to ensure there is enough liquid in the pot, adding more broth if necessary.
Turn off the oven. Place the meat on an ovenproof platter and cover with foil, returning it to the oven to keep warm. Remove the bay leaves from the remaining juices and pour the juices into a saucepot. Add mustard and malt vinegar and stir. Heat the mixture well, then puree using a stick blender. Remove the meat from the oven and slice across the grain. Serve slices with the sauce. The brisket goes very well with potatoes—mashed, steamed or baked.
Focaccia: Flying Solo
Baking bread in the kitchens of the Culinary Institute in New York was exhilarating. Under the guidance of a professional chef to help me overcome my fear of making yeast breads and to answer my seemingly constant stream of questions (Has it proofed long enough? Is this right?) my partner and I made beautiful, wonderful-tasting bread. My past experience, however, was lackluster at best. So when I decided to make my first solo attempt at recreating the experience from class, it wasn’t without anxiety.
I decided to bake focaccia because it had tasted delicious, I knew my family would enjoy it, and since I had already invested in six new cake pans specifically for it, it seemed like the prudent choice. My oregano and chives were also taking over my backyard, giving me a ready source for fresh herbs.
I took a good half hour to get all of the ingredients measured and ready for assembly. At the CIA and in many professional kitchens, the ingredients are measured by weight, not volume, for the greatest level of accuracy. That meant dirtying several bowls, but the care taken at the beginning of the process would produce a bread worthy of the additional dishwashing at the end.
Ingredients:
0.5 oz active dry yeast
8 oz. water
4 oz. milk
2 oz. eggs (equated to 1 large egg when I weighed mine)
1 oz. olive oil
29 oz. high gluten flour or bread flour
0.75 oz. honey
2 oz. herbs (finely diced rosemary, thyme, basil, oregano, chives—whatever you like—and garlic, plus freshly ground black pepper)
0.4 oz. salt
Whisk the yeast and water together in a bowl until it looks like cloudy water, then pour it into the bowl of your standing mixer and add the other wet ingredients. Follow with the flour, honey, and herbs, with the salt on top so it doesn’t come into direct contact with the yeast until it is diluted by the entire mixture. If the salt comes into direct contact with the yeast/water mixture it can kill the yeast and then, ultimately, kill your bread.
Using the bread hook attachment on your mixer, start mixing the ingredients on low speed. After about two minutes, stop the mixer and feel the dough. Mine felt very tight and dry, like a rubber band stretched to its limit. This had also happened to me at the CIA kitchens. I added about ¼ cup of water and started the mixer again. It’s important to do this early in the process because the water will become harder to incorporate as the mixture develops further.
Begin mixing again, one notch higher on the mixer. Keep going for several minutes until the dough passes the “membrane test”: Take a small hunk of the dough—no more than 1” in diameter---and gently work it with your fingers into a disc. Gently stretch the center as you knead. The dough should be able to stretch to the point where it is thin enough that you can see light through it and, ideally, even read your recipe through it. When it reaches this point, stop the mixer.
Chef had forewarned us to use a powerful mixer when making bread, especially when making large quantities. The smaller CIA mixers, which were 5-qt. KitchenAid Professional mixers with 350 watts of power, regularly broke down due to the stress of working the dough. Whenever possible, Chef would use the 20-qt. Hobart mixer, an ancient brute of a machine that Chef said would easily break your wrist if you were inattentive enough to put your hand into the bowl before turning it off.
My KitchenAid standing mixer has been with me for about 20 years. It’s the basic model, with a 4-qt. bowl and a top that tips back. I love my mixer and was a little concerned about what the bread would do to it. It chugged away, clunking and groaning, until it produced a dough that successfully passed the membrane test. I was giddy. My mixer survived, but quickly showed its displeasure at having been put through the ordeal. The bowl, which twists into its base, had been so tightly screwed into position by the churning motion of the dough that I had to beat the handle of the bowl with my hand several times in order to remove it. Several minutes later when I started wiping it down, it was still quite warm to the touch from the exertion of manipulating the dough. Hopefully it will continue to perform for the occasional breadmaking effort, but if I begin doing this regularly, I may need to invest in a more substantial piece of equipment.
Put some olive oil into a large bowl—about a tablespoon should do—and roll your dough into a ball with your hands. Stretch the top of the ball into a smooth surface by turning the ball in onto itself on the bottom, much like rolling a pair of socks into a ball or turning a hat inside-out. Then place the ball into the bowl, smooth side up, and cover the top with plastic wrap. The bowl should be large enough to allow the dough to double in size without touching the plastic wrap.
Now the dough needs to proof or rise for 30-45 minutes. The CIA kitchen had impressive proofing ovens which kept the bread at about 100 degrees Fahrenheit and provided steam for a humid environment that the yeast just loves. I have no such ovens, so instead I used a trick that Chef suggested: heat a mug of water it in the microwave until it boils. Open the door, quickly place the bowl of dough inside, and close it to retain the moisture from the water. Voila—a nice, warm, humid place for the bread to proof.
Check the bread after about 30 minutes by poking it gently with a knuckle. If it bounces back, give it more time. If the indentation stays, it is done proofing, as the gluten has been stretched to its limits. Dump the dough onto a lightly floured surface (use bread dough for the surface---it won’t clump) and press the dough down with your hands to expel most of the air. Fold it over once and manipulate it into a fat log. Weigh the log, then cut it into six equal pieces by weight. Take each piece and roll it into a ball just as you did with the full ball of dough before the first proofing—roll it onto itself for a nice, smooth skin on the top. Set all six balls on the counter and drape with plastic wrap (or, if your kitchen is cold, place them onto parchment-lined sheet pans, drape with plastic and place them in a warm place) to proof for another 30 minutes or so until they pass the knuckle test again.
Pour 1-2 teaspoons of olive oil into the bottoms of six round cake pans. We used 8” at school, but I used 9” for this effort. When the dough is done proofing, place a ball top-side down into a pan, spin it to coat, then start poking with your fingertips to begin to flatten it. Flip it so the “pretty” side is up. Use your fingers to poke and spread the dough to fill the pan, leaving a dimpled surface. Allow the dough to rise one last time for about 15 minutes.
Place the pans in a 400 degree Fahrenheit oven and bake until browned. Brush olive oil on top & sprinkle with Kosher salt. Cool for a few minutes, then turn out while still warm and allow to finish cooling on a rack. Slice into wedges and serve, or slice the entire loaf horizontally and use as a pizza crust.
Success! The scent of yeast, fresh herbs and garlic (these are a few of my favorite things) filled the kitchen. The focaccia had a slightly crispy crust surrounded a nicely chewy center. I am now emboldened to try another yeast bread. Stay tuned.
I decided to bake focaccia because it had tasted delicious, I knew my family would enjoy it, and since I had already invested in six new cake pans specifically for it, it seemed like the prudent choice. My oregano and chives were also taking over my backyard, giving me a ready source for fresh herbs.
I took a good half hour to get all of the ingredients measured and ready for assembly. At the CIA and in many professional kitchens, the ingredients are measured by weight, not volume, for the greatest level of accuracy. That meant dirtying several bowls, but the care taken at the beginning of the process would produce a bread worthy of the additional dishwashing at the end.
Ingredients:
0.5 oz active dry yeast
8 oz. water
4 oz. milk
2 oz. eggs (equated to 1 large egg when I weighed mine)
1 oz. olive oil
29 oz. high gluten flour or bread flour
0.75 oz. honey
2 oz. herbs (finely diced rosemary, thyme, basil, oregano, chives—whatever you like—and garlic, plus freshly ground black pepper)
0.4 oz. salt
Whisk the yeast and water together in a bowl until it looks like cloudy water, then pour it into the bowl of your standing mixer and add the other wet ingredients. Follow with the flour, honey, and herbs, with the salt on top so it doesn’t come into direct contact with the yeast until it is diluted by the entire mixture. If the salt comes into direct contact with the yeast/water mixture it can kill the yeast and then, ultimately, kill your bread.
Using the bread hook attachment on your mixer, start mixing the ingredients on low speed. After about two minutes, stop the mixer and feel the dough. Mine felt very tight and dry, like a rubber band stretched to its limit. This had also happened to me at the CIA kitchens. I added about ¼ cup of water and started the mixer again. It’s important to do this early in the process because the water will become harder to incorporate as the mixture develops further.
Begin mixing again, one notch higher on the mixer. Keep going for several minutes until the dough passes the “membrane test”: Take a small hunk of the dough—no more than 1” in diameter---and gently work it with your fingers into a disc. Gently stretch the center as you knead. The dough should be able to stretch to the point where it is thin enough that you can see light through it and, ideally, even read your recipe through it. When it reaches this point, stop the mixer.
Chef had forewarned us to use a powerful mixer when making bread, especially when making large quantities. The smaller CIA mixers, which were 5-qt. KitchenAid Professional mixers with 350 watts of power, regularly broke down due to the stress of working the dough. Whenever possible, Chef would use the 20-qt. Hobart mixer, an ancient brute of a machine that Chef said would easily break your wrist if you were inattentive enough to put your hand into the bowl before turning it off.
My KitchenAid standing mixer has been with me for about 20 years. It’s the basic model, with a 4-qt. bowl and a top that tips back. I love my mixer and was a little concerned about what the bread would do to it. It chugged away, clunking and groaning, until it produced a dough that successfully passed the membrane test. I was giddy. My mixer survived, but quickly showed its displeasure at having been put through the ordeal. The bowl, which twists into its base, had been so tightly screwed into position by the churning motion of the dough that I had to beat the handle of the bowl with my hand several times in order to remove it. Several minutes later when I started wiping it down, it was still quite warm to the touch from the exertion of manipulating the dough. Hopefully it will continue to perform for the occasional breadmaking effort, but if I begin doing this regularly, I may need to invest in a more substantial piece of equipment.
Put some olive oil into a large bowl—about a tablespoon should do—and roll your dough into a ball with your hands. Stretch the top of the ball into a smooth surface by turning the ball in onto itself on the bottom, much like rolling a pair of socks into a ball or turning a hat inside-out. Then place the ball into the bowl, smooth side up, and cover the top with plastic wrap. The bowl should be large enough to allow the dough to double in size without touching the plastic wrap.
Now the dough needs to proof or rise for 30-45 minutes. The CIA kitchen had impressive proofing ovens which kept the bread at about 100 degrees Fahrenheit and provided steam for a humid environment that the yeast just loves. I have no such ovens, so instead I used a trick that Chef suggested: heat a mug of water it in the microwave until it boils. Open the door, quickly place the bowl of dough inside, and close it to retain the moisture from the water. Voila—a nice, warm, humid place for the bread to proof.
Check the bread after about 30 minutes by poking it gently with a knuckle. If it bounces back, give it more time. If the indentation stays, it is done proofing, as the gluten has been stretched to its limits. Dump the dough onto a lightly floured surface (use bread dough for the surface---it won’t clump) and press the dough down with your hands to expel most of the air. Fold it over once and manipulate it into a fat log. Weigh the log, then cut it into six equal pieces by weight. Take each piece and roll it into a ball just as you did with the full ball of dough before the first proofing—roll it onto itself for a nice, smooth skin on the top. Set all six balls on the counter and drape with plastic wrap (or, if your kitchen is cold, place them onto parchment-lined sheet pans, drape with plastic and place them in a warm place) to proof for another 30 minutes or so until they pass the knuckle test again.
Pour 1-2 teaspoons of olive oil into the bottoms of six round cake pans. We used 8” at school, but I used 9” for this effort. When the dough is done proofing, place a ball top-side down into a pan, spin it to coat, then start poking with your fingertips to begin to flatten it. Flip it so the “pretty” side is up. Use your fingers to poke and spread the dough to fill the pan, leaving a dimpled surface. Allow the dough to rise one last time for about 15 minutes.
Place the pans in a 400 degree Fahrenheit oven and bake until browned. Brush olive oil on top & sprinkle with Kosher salt. Cool for a few minutes, then turn out while still warm and allow to finish cooling on a rack. Slice into wedges and serve, or slice the entire loaf horizontally and use as a pizza crust.
Success! The scent of yeast, fresh herbs and garlic (these are a few of my favorite things) filled the kitchen. The focaccia had a slightly crispy crust surrounded a nicely chewy center. I am now emboldened to try another yeast bread. Stay tuned.
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