Italy's best Christmas Cake

Panettone.  I know....all of you Christmas bread haters, complainers of dry, fruity, brick-like loaves...you have good reason.  I know.  But this - this panettone.  Panettone.  Made by Italian hands, in a little coffee shop in the valley of Po, in the town of Bovolone, nestled between the Italian Alps to the north and the Apennines to the south, is beyond bread.  This panettone is set apart from others because of the natural yeasty magic and recipe that's been used since 1891.

Also, molten butter is added.  And some dazzling Italian sugar.  So, it's moist and soft.  And perfect in every way.

image | formaggio kitchen

And the twig tied to the package comes from a local Muscat grape vine - from the Valley of Po.  Making this not only a delicious gift, but a beautiful one, too.

You can find this and a whole world of other delectables at:

South End Formaggio

268 Shawmut Ave.

Boston, MA  02118

(617) 350-6996

Stuffed

Oh, it's been a long while since I've posted.  Life and a trip to London (more on that later) have gotten in the way.  But with the leaves (they're still on the trees!) getting all golden and red, I'm finally ready to turn my head towards Thanksgiving and the holiday season.

With all the hosting we do, I was finding myself getting a little bored with the whole gargantuan meal of fowl and mushy side dishes.  Don't get me wrong.  Thanksgiving is, by far, one of my favorite holidays.  It's not religious - no Old or New Testament significance.  Instead, it's all about getting together with friends, family and digging togetherness.  And feeling really thankful for it.  Thanksgiving, after all, is a word of action.

It's the meal with which I am so very, very bored.  I've got the cooking technique nailed, for a moist, flavorful bird.  I feel confident with gravy, jazzed-up mash, and some colorful veg - like brussels sprouts, yams, and any other colorful creation that peaks my fancy.  And the stuffing....yup.  Got the stuffing.  The tried and true stuffing.  Which deserves to be shared with you lovelies.

With your next Thanksgiving feast, please consider this savory-sweet, texturally diverse recipe that, were it not for the Tawny Port, might be another gloppy brown mound of wet bread.  With dried cherries, apples, sausage, and hazelnuts, it is a solid score on the table.  And leftovers.

The Best Turkey Stuffing Ever
New Basics Cookbook

1 large loaf of bread, cut into 1" squares and dried on a cookie sheet for 10-12 hrs.
3 c. celery
2. c. chopped onions
2 tart apples, cut into 1/2" cubes
1 lb. sweet Italian sausage, browned
2 T. vegetable oil
1 c. toasted and chopped hazelnuts
1 c. dried cherries
1 c. Tawny Port
1 c. chicken broth
1 tsp. salt
1 tsp. dried thyme
1 tsp. sage leaves
Freshly ground pepper, to taste

Place the bread cubes in a large bowl.

Sauté sausage until brown.  Remove and drain in a separate bowl.  Add celery and onions to the same pan.  Cook until translucent.  Add cooked sausage, onions, and celery and all cooking juice to the bread.

Add to the bowl: apples, hazelnuts, cherries, salt, thyme, sage, and pepper.  Toss.


Add Tawny Port and chicken broth to the bowl and toss.  I try not to over toss, as I prefer non-mushy stuffing but feel free to crunch and smush away with your hands to create the preferred consistency.

Roast in a covered dish at 325˚ for approx. 40-45 mins.  Unbutton your pants and tuck in.

Wild about Wild Boar

I had a reason to visit (yet another) South End Formaggio - or, really to get my monthly fix.  I wanted to spice up some hors d'oeuvres-y snacks I was putting together this past Friday night.

We found this amazing Wild Boar dried sausage (soppressata di cinghiale)  in Brussels a couple of summers ago. At one of those awesome outdoor markets.  Corsican wild boar.  So, you can imagine these feral pigs are eating all sorts of good Corsican nuts and berries and maybe a small Corsican animal or two.  That salami was sweet, robust, and a tad gamey.  And a perfect accompaniment to what was slowly becoming a predictable cheese plate.

And back to South End Formaggio - purveyors of just about everything delicious, crammed in a space no bigger than 30' x 20' (but still easy to lose yourself in thought).  I picked up a half a pound of their wild boar sopressata.  Theirs comes from Salumeria Biellese.  And these pigs are mostly raised in Texas, on a ranch, where they probably scamper about, play tag, or maybe set up a variety of houses to see which might get blown down - while gobbling up all kinds of yummy nuts, berries, and happy little animals.

Looking for something to add to your charcuterie - a party cure-all? something that tastes like maybe a little Mediterranean, a little rustic, and a little wild?  Grab a stick of wild boar dried sausage.  And serve immediately.

Outstanding in the Field

A traveling restaurant.  On tour.  With events throughout North America and Europe. With one ginormous table.  One incredibly setting -  a field,  mountains, seaside, or river.  All about celebrating community through food - locally cultivated, locally created food. 

Goodness.

Our mission is to re-connect diners to the land and the origins of their food,
and to honor the local farmers and food artisans who cultivate it.
Join us in the field for an amazing dining experience. - outstanding in the field

Follow the big white bus *here*.

Would the Real San Marzano Please Stand Up?

When I need tomatoes (off-season), I pretend to be some snobby cook and collect pretty cans of San Marzano tomotoes:

image | cloudy iphone

The San Marzano tomato.  These iconic red plummy tomatoes are grown just outside of Naples, in the volcanic earth near Mt. Vesuvius - a super specific area that produces super juicy and super delicious tomatoes.  The go-to when it's NOT tomato season.  And apparently, not all San Marzanos are really from San Marzano.  Faux tomatoes, falsely labeled. *Gasp*

According to the Gusti Blog, written by Beatrice Ughi, an Italian-born, NY-based specialty food importer, there are several ways to identify the real San Marzano.  Herewith:

First thing you do, you check the tin's label:

it MUST say "Pomodoro San Marzano dell'Agro Sarnese Nocerino D.O.P."

it MUST have the symbol of the Consorzio;

it MUST have the symbol of the DOP;

it MUST have a "N° XXXXXXX", which is the Number assigned to the tin by the Consorzio.

With anything labeled organic, diced, chopped, pureed, etc. it gets even more complicated.  But. If you want the real deal, the San Marzano tomato makes all the difference in a solid authentically Penne all'Arrabbiata.

(credit goes to Diner's Journal for the scoop on this)

oeuf à la coque

image | me

4 minutes.  3 if you really prefer runny.  And you've got  the best little package of something close to yellow nirvana or hollandaise, laced with protein goodness.  Like a sunny yellow gravy.  And you really only need one. Egg, that is.

image | schwurlie

Compendium of egg boiling perfection and information can be found *here*.

My Gosh - What Ganache!

Being one that has something close to an obsession to sweet and savory combinations (and would dip french fries into my chocolate frosty when I was college), this ganache that we had in Florence, made with the oil from local, organic olives was molto delizioso.

I can't say enough about this recipe and how mighty fantastic and easy it is to whip together. Given to me by our hostess, Elisabetta Galardi of Fattoria di Poggiopiano, it's like nearly every recipe from Italy: a few, simple ingredients of the freshest quality makes for a non-fail dish.

all images | londoneats

For the chocolate and olive oil ganache:

• 8 oz. dark, semi-sweet chocolate (64%), chopped into small pieces
• 1/2 cup heavy cream
• 1/4 cup white sugar
• 1/2 cup olive oil

Heat the cream and sugar in a saucepan. Boil for 30 seconds. Pour over the chocolate, and stir until smooth (if not all of the chocolate melts, return to the saucepan and warm very gently until smooth, and return to the bowl).

Allow the mixture to cool slightly, and add the olive oil, stirring constantly. Allow to cool completely until firm (in the fridge, if necessary).

Serve on warm toasted sourdough bread, drizzle with olive oil, and sprinkle some kosher salt over the top - take a bite, close your eyes, sit back, and sigh (and maybe you'll find yourselves in Tuscany).

The Triumph of Neptune

This is the sign of an old umbrella shop that sits at the end of our little street in Brussels.  A very cool sign that I tried countless times to photograph to no avail:

image | tim borco (way better frame)

When the sign was rolled up into the top of the window, this appeared:

The front of one of the most creative restaurants I've ever enjoyed in Brussels.  Neptune.  Featuring one menu at €36, or roughly $50, that changes weekly.

Simple. Clever. Artistic.  Mostly Organic. Mostly Local.  Six tables. And the heart of the chef poured into every dish.




And if one had endless hours, time could last forever here.

48 rue Lesbroussart 1050 Ixelles - Bruxelles / Brussels

and more about this culinary wonder, check out Cooking for Four Hands and LEFOODING.COM (and enlist google translate, if necessary).

Menu Design In America, 1850-1985

And I'm back. Back from a good month-long swing through Europe with family, back from a good two week break from the blahgity-blahg, and back from a mental vacation of that school-work routine.  I have loads of stuff to share with you, unique little finds, discoveries, gems that I came across while in Brussels, Paris, Florence, and Amsterdam but today, it's all about Menu Design in America, from TASCHEN.

image | TASCHEN

One massive collection of menus, dating from 1850-1985. "Menu Design is an omnibus showcasing the best examples of this graphic art. With nearly 800 examples, illustrated in vibrant color, this deluxe volume not only showcases this extraordinary collection of paper ephemera but serves as a history of restaurants and dining out in America."

Ever the sucker for typeface and graphic design + historical reference to the culinary habits of early Americana, I thought this was definitely worthy of my first post back.

above images | the village voice 

above images | TASCHEN

Mer du Nord - Brussels

I'll take an open air seafood stand, with a glass of white wine while standing shoulder to shoulder with some other fish head any day - just as long as you don't try to talk to me.  Because all I can really do is slurp, sip, nod, and smile.  And maybe mumble 'très bien'. 


Mer du Nord - de Nordzee
45, Rue Sainte Catherine, Brussels 1000, Belgium

(all images from Mer du Nord capturing some of that authentically Belgian ruggedness )

"The Mer du Nord is not exactly a cafe, but a stop-off here should be obligatory for everyone visiting Brussels. The Mer du Nord is actually a fishmongers, but over the last few years it has set up a pavement bar which serves glasses of crisp chilled white wine and champagne, delicious bowls of fish soup, shucked oysters and a tapas-like selection of scallops, tuna, swordfish and plump prawns cooked fresh à la plancha right in front of you" - Nordzee-La Mer du Nord

From My Head

Sometimes it clicks and sometimes it doesn't.  But this time, it clicked.

We were invited to a porch party this evening and I wanted to bring something that was summer-y but hearty, especially because we were bringing a pitcher of caipirinhas.  And to ward off that cheap rum headache that follows a night of cheap rum cocktails, I figured an easy appetizer of protein might be the perfect prescription.

I've also had ricotta in my head for some time.  Literally.  Like, wow, I feel so dumb lately.  But I also wanted to make some ricotta - 'cuz I haven't since the last time I whipped it up.  Ricotta....and......I wanted savory but not goopy.  I wanted something that would look pretty (I'm not even sure why the hell I think about something like this so much....really - like, who cares?  It's a friggin' gathering on a porch, fergodsakes).  And I wanted something clever and delicious.

my image 

So, how about a little ficelle crostini.  And how about some skirt steak.  And how about some of those delicate, green pea shoots.  And finally, how about some homemade ricotta that's punched up with some kicky horseradish.

my image

And it's assembled to create a one bite taste sensation.  Very pleased with how this clicked.  All out of my own head.  That's still filled with ricotta.  But not for long.

The Perfect Menu in 28 words or less.

image | eleven madison park

28 words.  Simple.  Sans serif.  And more than anything encourages a dialogue between the diner and the server - and a report - and most likely a much better experience.

Do You Suck or Chew your Candy?

image | hoohoo house

On my list for our trip to London, maybe something for the kiddie-winkies? On Columbia Road, where nostalgia meets vintage, a candy shop that's all about spun sugar and Charlie Bucket.  With names like: chocolate jazzies, spogs, and acid drops I'm sure we could find something....maybe something that's even better than "Ice cream, lollipops, and treacle tarts....all free today!" (go on, click the link - it'll take you right back to your 8 year old terrified self).

Ricotta Fresca - il Ricotta dalla Mano

Research

Frothy cauldron of dairy

dairy heated to 175°-180°

gauze-y receptacle at the ready

curds + whey

firm-ish ricotta, but not quite ready

Qui è! - il Ricotta dalla Mano

Ricotta by Hand (il Ricotta dalla Mano) 
Ingredients

• 4 cups whole milk
• 2 cups heavy cream
• 1 teaspoon salt
• 3 tablespoons good white wine vinegar

Set a large sieve over a deep bowl. Dampen 2 layers of cheesecloth with water and line the sieve with the cheesecloth.


Pour the milk and cream into a stainless-steel or enameled pot. Stir in the salt.  Bring to 175º-180º, over medium heat, stirring occasionally. Turn off the heat and stir in the vinegar. Allow the mixture to stand for 1 minute until it curds form.   It will separate into thick parts (the curds) and milky parts (the whey).


Pour the mixture into the cheesecloth-lined sieve and allow it to drain into the bowl at room temperature for 20 to 25 minutes (or more, depending on preferred consistency), occasionally discarding the liquid that collects in the bowl. The longer you let the mixture drain, the thicker the ricotta.  Transfer the il ricotta dalla mano to a bowl, discarding the cheesecloth and any remaining whey. Dance a jig, for you have successfully made cheese at home.  Use immediately or cover and refrigerate. The ricotta will keep refrigerated for 4 to 5 days.

And will probably go very nicely with some Blueberry+Thyme Jam.