Italy Part 4

Roasted balsamic onions (p. 98)
This was an afternoon project last week, thinking it would be nice to have a cold jar of sweet roasted onions in the fridge for easy snacking. What a strange, but simple recipe I will make again!

The recipe requires small "pickling onions" ranging from 0.75 oz
to 1.25 oz, shown above.  I could only find onions of similar
description labeled, "boiler onions."
Aren't they the cutest bulbs you've ever seen? 

The best part of this recipe is that
you don't have to peel them! You just throw them into
a baking dish and then throw them into a preheated
oven (315 degrees F).  I spent the whole hour and a half
roasting processes nervous that I was going to have
an oven full of flaming onion balls, but in the end
I guess the paper exterior isn't flammable. Whew!

While the onions were roasting, I made the marinade
(the jar in the front). It consisted of mixing together
good quality balsamic vinegar with a spoonful of soft
brown sugar. I'm not exactly sure what "good quality"
balsamic vinegar means, but I chose an Alessi's brand
specifying Aceto Balsamico di modena aged 4 years in wood.
After the sugar is dissolved in the vinegar, add the olive oil
and shake the jar like crazy to get a homogenous solution.
I find it helpful to sing Outkast,
"Shh shake it, shake, shh shake it... shake it like a polaroid picture..."

Roasted and ready for peeling!
I had one fatality out of the bunch (upper right corner).
Cause of death: explosion.  

Now for the peeling process. This was actually fun because it was like unwrapping tiny pearls hidden in ugly, sticky wrapping paper. When I first pulled them out of the oven, I thought I had overcooked them beyond repair. The seemed deflated and burned. However, under the tattered peels, there lies unharmed soft, white onions waiting to be... eaten!

An example of how ugly they look at first. But...

... peel the layers away and.... 

... you find a beautifully cooked mini onion.
Sweet and juicy and ready to eat (or for marinating as this recipe calls for).

Place all of the peeled onions in a sterilized jar.
To do this, rinse with boiled water and let dry in a warmed oven.
I used my kettle (to the right) for easy-to-pour hot water, timing it so that
I could place the jar into the oven right after removing the onions.  

Add your marinade after another few quick shakes and then let it
rest in the refrigerator until the next day. The recipe says that at
this point, these onions remain good for three weeks.
Reminder: give the jar little shakes if the marinade separates
with time (oil can be so mischievous)!

Picture perfect :)
Serve along side a fresh salad, crispy crackers and soft cheese. 

Italy Part 3

Yesterday, I spent nearly the entire day in the kitchen. Barefoot, hair pulled up in a high pony, red apron tied around my waist, NPR podcasts streaming from my laptop... this is my happy place. Let's start this story at the end with the table spread of Tuesday night's dinner for two. On the menu for the evening: 

Pappa al pomadoro (p. 105)

Parmesan & rosemary crusted veal chops (p. 130)

Salsa Rossa (p. 130)

Rocket and pecorino salad (p. 105)

Lemon granitas (p. 147)

The finished fruits of my labor! I love how beautifully balanced the colors, textures,
and tastes that this meal encompasses. For starters, we dished up a hearty bowl of the
tomato and bread soup, followed by the main entree of pan-fried veal chops with salsa rossa, and
finished with a plate of arugula and shaved parmesan (pecorino) to cleanse the palate
and settle the stomach before dessert. 

I began my dinner preparations with the last course: Lemon granitas! I had to make a quick run to the grocery store down the street to pick out a flat, wide metal dish for freezing the liquid lemonade. This is key, otherwise it can tense up into a thick, stubborn frozen mess that is difficult to manage for the final steps explained later. First, these granitas required a cooking step to liquify the sugar into the lemon juice. Then water is added and the liquid solution is stirred and cooled. Once cooled, the solution (much like lemonade) is poured into the metal pan, covered, and put into the freezer. There is now a series of ice crystal raking steps to get the desired slushy, flakey texture of an Italian granita! 

Preparing my lemon granita concentrate. To do this, heat lemon juice, fresh lemon zest, and caster sugar in small sauce pan until the sugar has melted.  A little word of advice... do not buy caster sugar at the store because it is priced at a ridiculous cost for what it is worth. Caster sugar is just a super fine granulated sugar. It is useful because it mixes with liquids faster than regular granulated sugar because of its higher surface area. To make your own, just pulse granulated sugar in your food processor a few times. Note: do NOT confuse caster sugar with powdered sugar. Powdered sugar is very, very finely ground sugar with added corn starch, usually, to keep the granules from sticking to each other. 

First rake! Still very viscous. Be careful moving yours in and out of the freezer in the early
steps because I almost had a few accidents that would have made for a very sticky cleanup. 

Pappa al pomadoro (Tomato and bread soup) came next. For this dish, head to your local market the day before a pick out a hearty loaf of Italian bread and then leave it out overnight to dry out a bit. I left mine out of the bag to accelerate this process since I purchased my bread fresh and the texture seemed extremely moist. If you want to prepare this recipe the same day, ask the store bakery if they have any day-old stuff and let it sit unwrapped until you add it into the soup. 

This is my share of fresh bread from the store, working very hard on becoming dry and crusty! I noticed after I got home that I had grabbed a French load instead of an Italian loaf. Oops. To be honest, I'm not sure if there is much difference between the two types anyways, except that Italian bread tends to be a bit more soft and spongy (from addition of a bit of olive oil or dairy to the dough). Any bread enthusiasts out there that can explain it to me?

The next steps of the soup involved ingredient preparation with a bit of love, such as for the tomatoes. The tomatoes needed to be bathed in boiling water for 10 seconds followed immediately by a dip in ice cold water. Their bottom sides were scored before the bath, allowing for an easy starting point to peel away the outer skins. Once they were properly bathed and naked, it was time to cut them in half and remove their insides (the gooey seed slime) with a small spoon. The final step, as if they had not been tortured enough, was to chop them roughly.  The following pictures go through this in more detail.

The hot-cold bathing process allowing for easy peeling
 (please excuse the cook's poorly groomed fingernails).

The hallowed tomato remains ready for chopping. Despite how red and ripe their flesh looks, their seeds were not easy to remove. This is a result of the supermarkets' desire to expedite the ripening process of many fresh produce (such as tomatoes and bananas to name a few). They commonly gas them with a chemical agent, known as ethylene, while they are shipped in crates from field to market. This is different than how a plant naturally ripens. For example, have you ever been allured to purchase a bright red tomato that appears to be juicy and sweet, but then you get home and cut it open and it is still bitter, pallid, and hard?  This is because of ethylene. The outside appears ripe but the inside has not had adequate time to naturally mature its texture and taste.

More ingredient prep, including adding the chopped tomatoes and tomato paste to the sauce pan to reduce while measuring out vegetable broth, and de-crusting and cubing of the dry bread.

Once the broth has simmered with the tomatoes for about half an hour, it is time to add the bread cubes! This almost reminding me of my younger years of adding small sponge capsules to hot water to wait to see them fatten into dinosaurs or animals. I didn't know what would happen to the dry bread crumbs but they devoured the broth and grew into large dumpling mush balls. I had to add about 2-3 extra cups of water to the pot maintain its integrity as soup. Final step was to add freshly torn basil leaves and olive oil drizzle.

As the tomato soup simmered on the stove, I prepared the Salsa rossa that would be served along with the Parmesan and rosemary crusted veal chops. This was an easy recipe to complete and required only a few ingredients: onion, red pepper, canned tomatoes, olive oil, chili pepper flakes and salt. There were equal parts onion and red pepper. The onion slices needed to be very thin while the red pepper slices could be about 1 cm thick. The onions were added to the hot oil first to soften but not brown, and then the red peppers were added and cooked to reduce to half the original size. This reducing step took the longest, requiring about about 30 minutes over low-medium heat to keep the vegetables cooking but not browning. 

The onions and red peppers cooking to half their size. Reminded me of my Alma Mater colors.
I wonder what Bucky Badger is eating for dinner tonight...

While the Salsa rossa and soup were on the stove, it was a good time to begin the preparation of the veal chops. It included a new verb, sinew, for which I had never heard of before. From the quick google search that I did, I took away that "sinew" means to get rid of all pieces of the chops that are difficult to chew or uneatable. The chops that I purchased came as T bones, so I carefully pulled the meat away from the bone center to get four pieces of meat. After cutting away excess fat, tendons, other small "sinews" and patting dry with a paper towel, I was left with some handsome, and fairly lean, veal!  After some smashing with a mallet (to 1 cm thickness) they were ready for a 2-step batter process. Step 1: dip in seasoned, slightly whipped eggs. Step 2: Press each side firmly into a breadcrumb, parmesan, and fresh rosemary mixture.

The chops from King Soopers! This was my first time purchasing veal,
and for some reason I was expecting something that the butcher keeps
 behind the glass case. I didn't have time (or a vehicle) to shop around
elsewhere so I took them at face value.

By this time, the Pappa al pomadoro was taken off the stove, the Salsa rossa was simmering on low with the tomatoes and spices, the table was set, and my wine glass was empty. Almost time to feast.... just needed to fry the veal chops. While the butter and olive oil were heating with garlic cloves in a large frying pan, I whisked together olive oil, lemon juice, and salt and pepper for the Rocket and pecorino salad and set aside. When the garlic cloves started to brown, I quickly booted them out of the pan and added the battered veal chops, two at a time, into the hot fat bath. As they sizzled and cracked I tossed the washed and dried arugula leaves with the vinaigrette, divided between two salad plates and placed it onto the dinner table. A quick flip of the chops after 3-5 minutes and it was time to tend to the granitas one last time (pictured below), raking the zesty ice crystals away from the sides of the cold pan into a fine texture. With a deep breath of cold freezer air as I put the pan of granitas back, it was time for the final round of veal chop frying. The first came out beautifully and reminded me of Joe's mother's Slovak pork schnitzel.

The third rake before letting it freeze one more time while
 dinner is consumed. The flaky, solid texture has almost
been reached as you can see.  

Fast forward to the end of the meal. Plates are empty, bellies full, kitchen a mess. Time for a slow Italian stroll around the block to escape the heat of the apartment (made especially unbearable by me having at least two burners on at all times throughout the course of the afternoon). Before our return from a wonderful night in Italy, we decided on a night cap. Not another glass of wine, but a tall helping of sweet and sour lemon granita that was waiting behind freezer doors. This might just be a staple in our apartment for hot summer nights like this one.

Ice cold Italy.... the Lemon Granita!

Italy Part 2

Joe finished his first night shift at the hospital on Friday morning. While he slept, I was happily buzzing around in the kitchen. I wanted to make something special for him that would be refreshing and fun. I decided to go with four recipes from Italy, listed below. I'll let the pictures do most of the talking for this entry.

Napolentana Crostini (p. 95)

Olive Crostini (p. 95)

Tuna and Cannellini Bean Salad (p. 101)

Chimneysweep's Gelato (p. 149)

Premature Napolentana Crostini consisting of a generous frosting of
butter and two slices of bocconcini cheese. They need further assembly with halved
anchovy fillets, peeled and seeded tomato slices, dried oregano, and fresh
cracked pepper before going into the oven (350 degrees for about 15 minutes). 

The lonesome remaining Bocconcini. This recipe introduced me to this type of cheese.
I stood in front of the cheese cooler at the supermarket for about half an hour reading cheese labels to find it.
Turns out, Bocconcini is an unripened cheese packaged in whey
 (a liquid milk protein solution you see in the picture), nicknamed "baby mozzarella."
The texture is very smooth and creamy, and oddly, a bit juicy.
The taste is super mild, almost like solid milk without any singing notes of sour, salty, or sweet. 

Napolentana Crostinis ready for tasting. See how the bocconcini melted into a
 creamy goo that sort of binds the other ingredients to the bread? Neat. 

Admiring the tranquility of this scene.

The finished Olive Crostini. These required a different preparation. The bread was
toasted in the oven first (375 degrees for about 3 minutes each side), and then
topped with an olive spread. The spread consisted of blending Kalamata olives,
anchovies, capers, garlic, basil, and olive oil until finely chopped but not smooth.
I sprinkled them with a bit of sea salt to finish. 

There were four crostini recipes altogether but I figured I would make two this evening.
I like the balance of color and texture with these two recipes. 

Now onto the tuna salad! This was my first time trying to grill without having a grill!
I decided to take a chance and use my cast iron panini press grill. I let it heat up in the oven while
the crostini baked, then placed it over low heat on the stove top to sear the tuna.
The tuna steaks were marinated with olive oil and cracked pepper for about an hour before "grilling."
I was biting my nails as to not overcook them. This pictures shows the last steps of getting the edges seared. 

O.K. so they are a bit over done but not a terrible first attempt at seared tuna on a stove top!
Even so, Joe was a bit hesitant at trying this pink meat. I assured him that they are
100% safe since we cooked all outer surfaces. In fact, the ideal tuna steak is seared
so minimally that the inner meat appears dark purple (raw raw raw).  

Final steps of assembly required laying a fresh bed of arugula, and topping with pre-mixed spices and
freshly chopped red pepper, tomatoes, cannellini beans. The dressing was served warm after simmering on the stove.
 It consisted of lemon juice, olive oil and honey. Garnish the plate with fresh cracked pepper, salt, and lemon zest! 

Aerial view of the Tuna and Cannellini Bean Salad. How refreshing does that look?
I read that the tuna industry in Sicily is very important for the economy of southern Italy. 

Final course was a sort of "gelato" cocktail, the Chimneysweeper's Gelato.
For this, we used one of our new favorite wedding gifts: the Cuisinart ice cream maker.
I'll blog about ice cream later but for the base of this recipe, we made a very rich ice cream
consisting of mostly whipping cream and sugar with a slash of vanilla and a pinch of salt
 (the recipe calls for vanilla gelato but it noted that a premium ice cream could be used also).

The Cuisinart at work! It takes only 15-20 minutes for the sweet dairy concoction to solidify.
Our apartment was so warm that evening that seconds after dishing up the frozen treat,
it started melting into a sloppy slush. Quickly, we drizzled the ice cream with whisky
and sprinkled with finely ground coffee beans. Unfortunately I don't have a decent
 picture (probably didn't snap one since it was so sloppy).  But you must realize that this is the most delicious
finish to a busy day! We enjoyed ours while watching Avitar in front of two floor fans...

Sublime Limas

This entry is a little distraction from Italian cuisine, but I had to share it because it is so delicious and wonderful for pairing with grilled summer meats. The following recipe was adapted and modified from www.culinate.com by substituting lima beans for fava beans (very easy since limas can be purchased frozen), and adding some chopped red onion to the hot pancetta. 

Sublime Limas

3-4 Tbsp olive oil

3 oz. pancetta, chopped into small bits

1/2 cup red onion, sliced or chopped

3 cups lima beans

Handful of mint, chopped

Salt to taste

Heat oil in a large skillet over low-medium heat. Add pancetta and let it cook until it starts to get a little bit crispy. Add the red onion and let these ingredients sizzle another 10 minutes, stirring occasionally. Add lima beans and cook another 10 minutes, or until beans are heated thoroughly and so that the skins start to caramelize slightly (light brown color). Turn off the heat! Add mint and salt to taste and serve immediately with grilled seafood, pork or lamb and sourdough bread (or at least that is my personal opinion). Leftovers, even cold, make for an easy lunch the next day.

This was my first time cooking with Pancetta and
before I started to chop, I had a moment of admiration
of its delicate rolled layers of fat and muscle. Pancetta is known
as Italian bacon- salt cured and lightly spiced. 

Pancetta and onions unite! There is something so comforting
about the smells and sounds of sizzling onions in meat fat.

The final ingredients have jumped into the pot. Just stir and serve! 

I was a bit nervous about the taste of this dish since we added
mint to an entourage of salty-savory ones. But the result was fantastic.
Next time you buy mint for mojitos, be sure to pick up some
lima beans too!

Italy Part 1

This challenge was started almost a week ago on a Saturday morning when I unpacked my Mediterranean cookbook. I opened it and was immediately entranced by the pictures it contained, including Involtini of Swordfish and Higas Rellenos. Suddenly, the notion to cook my way through the countries within it enticed my interest. Turning to Joe (who was preoccupied by a youtube ski video), I opened the pages to the table of contents and asked him to pick a country that he would like me to cook through this summer. Without thought, he pointed at Italy. Sounds good to me! Italy it is! 

The Essential Mediterranean Cookbookby Juliet Rogers, Copyright 2005
ISBN 1-74045-776-5

Given to me by my wonderful parents. I love them!

Sample of the text. The picture of the bottom right
shows the Baked Peppers that I forgot to document with my own camera.

Visiting Italy six years ago was my first exposure to European culture. I remember thinking that the smells, people, vegetation and foods were about as colorful as anything I'd ever experienced. I remember thinking I should drop out of college, find a job a random vineyard in the hills of Tuscany, and grow old drinking Chianti and sampling pungent cheeses... oh, the glorious dreams I had! The fact that Joe picked Italy meant I could travel back and retrace fond memories. It was also a good pick because it is the season of summer. Italian cuisine fits perfectly due to simplistic recipes with an emphasis on fresh ingredients.


I chose to start with two recipes: Baked Peppers with Anchovies (page 89) and Spaghetti Puttanesca (page 110). From here on I will reference the page numbers within the cookbook where the complete recipes can be found. Instead of filling space with the recipes themselves (that can sometimes be very extensive), I want to elaborate on details that personalize the recipes, such as cooking methods, kitchen experiences, ingredient descriptions, and so on.

My ingredients for these recipes sat idle for three full days as new activities and social events kept arising that competed with our first Italian dinner at home. Last Monday, I was determined that we could manage both: an early evening on a "peddle hopper" with Joe's fellow interns and a retreat back to our apartment for a late meal of peppers and puttanesca (mostly because I was getting growing concern over the lifespan of my capsicum peppers)! To make this work, I decided to assemble the peppers and prepare the sauce for the pasta early afternoon. That way when we returned home around 8 pm, all I would have to do would be to cook the pasta and bake the peppers while letting the sauce simmer a bit longer. As the night progressed, our fine Italian dinner was substituted for one too many beers (never underestimate a bunch of medical residents about to kiss their summer freedoms goodbye while dressed in funny costumes on a peddle bus...)! We put the food in the refrigerator before retiring for the night.

Late the following morning I was expecting to find pruned, soggy peppers that would have to be tossed. To my dismay, they were just as beautiful as when I had left them the afternoon before! Well, this called for a lavish brunch of Italian fare to cure our sorry selves. I immediately began to preheat the oven and put the final garnishes on the peppers, such as the slivered anchovies and torn basil leaves, as well as put the sauce on the stove to a slow simmer. By 12:30 pm the stove was off and the food was warm.

I regret that I didn't think to take any pictures of the peppers but they were wonderfully caramelized on the bottom with a soft belly that kicked your taste buds with a harmony of salty anchovies and fresh basil. The pasta was also dressed in distinctly Italian flare with the combination of flavors such as Kalamatas, capers, anchovies, fresh parsley and a lingering heat from a few pinches of chili flakes. I quickly discovered that Joe was not thrilled with the olives as they slowly grew into a pile at the edge of his plate (his loss, my gain)!

There are some dishes that are known to be better the next day. I think this Puttanesca sauce is one of them, being that the individual ingredient flavors grew more pronounced during their long slumber in the fridge. I am also happy to note that these recipes can hold up to preparation a day in advance. This may come in handy for future time crunches and convenience. The leftovers of each of these recipes were excellent to the third day (the pasta did soften with time).

A visual sampling of my first pasta (minus the olives since this was Joe's dish).
 Parmesan was added to this dish for a hearty twist for
for lunch, but is not called for in the original recipe.

A bit of fun trivia: Puttanesca comes from the Italian word for whore (puttana). As one can imagine, there are many stories surrounding this dish. Does it stem from the intense flavors of the sauce that charmed men who would eat of it, or did it originate from women who were forbidden to shop for groceries during regular hours and survived on pantry staples (olives, anchovies, etc.)?

Westward Adventures

For the past 1 month, 1 week and 2 days, it seems as though life has been moving faster than I could mentally comprehend; it was almost as if I was watching my days transpire in third person. It all began mid-May when both Joe and I graduated with our graduate degrees in the same weekend. I was sleep deprived and frazzled as our families came to Madison to join us in celebration (probably from higher caffeine consumption to complete my thesis and tie up other responsibilities in the lab before that day). Following that, we had to finalize plans and small projects for our wedding the next weekend, May 21st. Our friends and family began arriving in town as early as Wednesday. After our wedding came a much needed eight days of vacation in sunny Antigua. We successfully managed to catch up on sleep, eat every few hours, and drink our fill with all things fruity that came with alcohol and a straw (sadly no umbrellas). Upon our return, we packed up our apartment and drove to Milwaukee, Minneapolis, and Kansas City for various family gatherings. We arrived at our final designation on the evening of June 7th in Denver, Colorado!

When gawking at the mighty hills seen to Denver's west, we stood
corrected by a local who looked at Joe and said,
"Son, those ain't hills.  Dem's mountains."
We had to twist the smiles off of our faces. 

Denver... the very name bleeds "cool" doesn't it? I think so. Or perhaps it is my resonating excitement to be exploring a new part of the country. Joe started his medical residency training (transitional year) this morning and I am currently, for the first time in my life, unemployed with no ties to academia. My plan from July through August (give or take) is to dedicate my time to getting my creativity back. How am I going to do that? By doing the activities that make me happiest. Spending time with the outdoors and playing with food.


I feel so blessed to have the time (key word, TIME) to explore deeper into the culinary arts. Despite my curiosities of spicy curries, baked goods, and traditional Slovakian meals, I have decided to focus my energy on one arena of food at a time. I'm beginning my adventure in the crooked, bustling market streets threading through Italy! And I'm using my beloved, The Essential Mediterranean Cookbook, as my guide.

Playing in the outdoors together as newly weds. We love
hiking dem mountains! We hope to complete a 14er, which is
climbing a peak of 14,000 ft, by the end of the season!

I have few rules about this challenge but I am taking them very seriously:
1)  No short cuts (no using pre-minced garlic in a can if the recipe calls for you to mince fresh garlic). By taking these extra steps the taste may not be noticeable but it will give me the opportunity to become more practiced with my kitchen tools and techniques.
2)  No budget cuts (if the recipe calls for a Tbsp of brandy in the sauce, but you don't want to buy a $20 bottle of something you know you don't drink, you buy it)! There are always ways to use leftover ingredients or people to give them away to. The goal is to prepare authentic tastes by adding each ingredient in the appropriate quantities.
3)  Enjoy the journey. If a mistake happens, learn from it. Better yet, laugh and sing in the kitchen. Have a glass of wine and put on your favorite album. If possible, share your final products with others to gain feedback (and most likely they will be happy to take part in the eating) and share your final thoughts. I'll be sharing many of mine right here! Salute!

My most frequent product taster (now husband!) after a picnic
dinner at Cheesman Park in Denver.