Artichoke, Mushroom & Goat Cheese Tart

Whenever I include a demonstration of how to turn an artichoke in a class, I am inevitably asked if canned artichoke hearts may be used in the recipe instead of fresh.  This makes me kind of sad because, as with many things, the canned cannot hold a candle to the fresh.  But since turning artichokes is a skill that requires some practice, I always answer with a qualified yes….that in some cases—when the artichoke is supposed to be served cooked…when it isn’t the main event….etc.—you can indeed substitute canned.  The recipe I’m posting today is a good example.  While the tart would be utterly delicious with freshly turned and poached or roasted artichokes, it is still very good when made with the canned variety. 

I know this, because I made my tart with canned artichokes.  Normally I would not have canned artichokes on hand.  But I just happened to have half of a can left over after making some of David Lebovitz’s Artichoke Tapenade (from his new book My Paris Kitchen).  The tapenade is of course made up largely of artichokes….and the recipe specifies canned.  While I am sure it would be amazing made with fresh, I am a bit loth to go to the trouble of turning and cooking artichokes just so I can grind them to a fine mince in the food processor. 

Because I had half of a can of artichokes in my fridge, when a recipe from an old issue of Bon Appetit for an artichoke tart crossed my Facebook feed, I clicked through to examine it more closely, thinking that it might call for canned artichokes.  It did.  And as I looked it over I was reminded of a zucchini tart that I posted last summer.  The tarts are very similar in style—flat, rectangular and topped with a layer of soft cheese and some cooked vegetables—and both are beautiful to look at.  In the end I used the Bon Appetit recipe as a spring board, changing it up to suit my pantry and my preferences.  For the cheese base I used ricotta mixed with pecorino instead of Feta puréed with heavy cream.  And I replaced the Feta crumbles on top with goat cheese.  Finally, I added fresh herbs and sautéed mushrooms (I love mushrooms with artichokes) to the mix as well as a final scattering of pine nuts. 

Both the Bon Appetit tart and my zucchini tart were intended as appetizers, but I decided to make my artichoke tart to serve as a light Sunday night supper.  With a fluff of arugula—lightly dressed with lemon and olive oil—and an apple for dessert, it was just right.  (Chocolate cookies would have made a nice dessert too, but unfortunately, I was all out.)  Had I been hungrier, I could have beefed up the salad with some blanched green beans, toasted walnuts and olives….or served the tart and arugula as an accompaniment to some sautéed shrimp or scallops…or even a grilled or roasted chicken breast.   

Like the zucchini tart from last summer, the artichoke tart is super versatile.  To make little hors d’oeuvres, cut the square of dough into two rectangles and build, bake, cut and serve the tart as described for the zucchini tart.   I also think that this tart—cut into six portions and served with a small salad (as I served it for our dinner on Sunday)—would make an elegant first course for a dinner party.  Although, I admit, if I were to serve it at a dinner party, I would use fresh artichokes in place of the canned.  Either way, the tart makes excellent party food since all of the components (dough, ricotta smear, artichokes and mushrooms) can be made ahead.  You can even build the tart ahead, hold it in the fridge and bake it just before serving.  And, as I discovered when I enjoyed the leftovers for lunch today, the finished tart reheats beautifully, not suffering in the slightest from being made and baked ahead. 

Artichoke & Mushroom Tart

1 recipe pâte brisée (below)
125 g. (1/2 cup) whole milk ricotta
1/2 oz. (scant 3 T.) finely grated Pecorino Romano
Salt & Pepper, to taste
6 oz. white or crimini mushrooms, quartered
1 to 2 T. olive oil
1/4 c. sliced scallions—white and green (from about a half of a bunch)
1 t. minced fresh thyme
4 oz. well-drained artichoke hearts (half of a 14-oz. can), quartered—see notes
1 T. minced Italian flat-leaf parsley
1/4 t. minced fresh thyme
1/2 T. olive oil
Pinch of hot pepper flakes
1 1/2 T. pine nuts (untoasted)
2 oz. crumbled goat cheese

On a lightly floured surface, roll the pastry out into a thin (1/8- to 3/16-inch thick) square that measures at least 10- by 10-inches.  Place on a parchment-lined baking sheet and chill for at least 30 minutes.

In a small bowl, combine the ricotta and Pecorino.  Season to taste with salt and pepper.  Set aside

In a small sauté pan set over moderately high heat, sauté the mushrooms in a tablespoon of so of olive oil until golden and any liquid that has been released has evaporated.  Season with salt and pepper, reduce the heat to medium and add a drizzle of olive oil if the pan seems dry.   Add the scallions and 1 t. thyme and continue to gently cook until the scallions have wilted.  Remove from the heat.

In a small bowl, combine the drained and quartered artichokes with the parsley, remaining thyme, hot pepper flakes and olive oil.  Taste and season with salt and pepper. 

Take the pastry out of the refrigerator and trim to a 9 1/2- by 9 1/2-inch square.  Prick all over with a fork.  Spread the ricotta mixture in a thin layer over the pastry, leaving a quarter inch wide border of dough visible.  

Scatter the mushrooms, artichokes, pine nuts and goat cheese crumbles over the ricotta.  (Tarts may be made a few hours ahead to this point.  Cover loosely and chill.)

Place the pan on the lowest rack in the preheated 375° oven.  Bake until the tarts are golden brown, well colored on the bottom and cooked through—about 30 to 35 minutes.  Transfer the finished tart to a wire rack so the crust will remain crisp.  Cut into portions and serve.

Notes: 

• If you prefer to use fresh artichokes, you will need two medium artichokes that have been turned, halved and roasted and cut into 1-inch wedges (probably about 4 wedges per half).
• To prepare small appetizer/passed hors d’oeuvres-sized tartlets, trim the rolled out square of pastry to a 10- by 9-inch rectangle.  Cut in half into two 5- by 9-inch rectangles.  Proceed with the building of the tarts as directed in the recipe, dividing all of the ingredients between the two tarts.  Bake the tarts and cut each into 8 (or more) small squares.  By building the tarts in this way (as 2 rectangles instead of 1 large square) each portion will be an “edge” piece and will be sturdier and thus easier to pick up and eat out of hand. 

Pâte Brisée (Short Crust Pastry):

1 c. all-purpose flour (4 oz.)

1/4 t. salt
6 T. cold unsalted butter, sliced 1/4-inch thick (3 oz.)
2 to 3 T. ice water


Combine the flour and the salt in a medium-sized bowl.  Rub the butter into the flour until the mixture has the look of cornmeal and peas. Drizzle 2 T. ice water over the flour/butter mixture.  Using your hands, fluff the mixture until it begins to clump, adding more water if necessary.  Turn the dough out onto a counter and form into a mound.  Using the heel of your hand, gradually push all of the dough away from you in short forward strokes, flattening out the lumps.  Continue until all of the dough is flat.  Using a bench scraper, scrape the dough off the counter, forming it into a single clump as you do.  Form the finished dough into a thick rectangle.  Wrap in plastic wrap.  Chill for at least 30 minutes.

Printable Version

Spring Pasta...with Artichokes and Mushrooms

The artichoke fest continues....  Today, in a quiet pasta along with mushrooms, spring onions, asparagus and prosciutto.  It is quiet because there is no noisy sautéing...just gentle stewing.  Quiet also in that the flavors are subtle...all coming together in a harmonious whole without one jumping forward and shouting for attention.  If you have an artichoke...or two...on hand—and some white mushrooms (delicious with artichokes)—the idea of this pasta can be adapted to whatever spring ingredients you happen to have in your kitchen. 

To begin, add the thinly sliced artichokes and mushrooms to a pan of melted butter.  I added finely sliced spring onions too, but a small leek...a shallot....or even some green garlic...would be good too.  If you have some thyme, that would be a fine addition, as well as a sprinkling of lemon zest.  But on this particular day, I chose to leave it simple.... 

Once the artichokes and mushrooms have begun to soften, add a splash of water, cover the pan and cook at a gentle simmer until the artichokes are tender through.  I debated adding wine...and reducing it to a glaze....before I added the water, but opted for the less layered, cleaner flavors of just the vegetables.  On another evening, I might add some wine....but water alone really is just fine.  If you have chicken stock, that would be delicious in place of the water, and like the wine would add layer and depth.  No matter what liquids you choose, as the vegetables cook, keep an eye on them to make sure they don't simmer dry...add water to supplement as necessary. 

When the artichokes and mushrooms are tender, uncover and add some asparagus (blanched in the water in which the pasta will be cooked), julienned prosciutto and roughly chopped parsley.  These additions were a function of what I had in my kitchen, but they could (and will) be varied to suit my ever changing spring pantry.  Peas...or fava beans (which unfortunately I almost never have)...would be good in place of—or in addition to—the asparagus.  For the herb, parsley is a staple in my kitchen, but as we move further into the growing season, I might choose to use any number of the soft, young herbs that will be showing up at the market and in my garden...arugula, basil, chives...even mint.  As for the prosciutto, I don't think it is optional...it adds richness, tang and salt.  I finished the pasta with Parmesan, but if you omit the prosciutto, I would recommend a nice salty Pecorino instead.

As always, save some of your pasta water to help extend the "sauce".  As you toss in the noodles, add a pat of butter—I love butter with the green vegetables of spring, but its purpose here is also to thicken and enrich the sauce.  Cream would be another option (add this to the artichokes and mushrooms before adding the green vegetable and bring to a simmer)....or perhaps a blob of mascarpone, swirled in, just as if it were butter. 

If you—like me—love artichokes with mushrooms, you will love the idea of this simple...adaptable...spring pasta.  I hope you will try it and make it your own.

Pasta with Artichokes, Mushrooms & Spring Vegetables

1 artichoke, turned, halved and sliced cross-wise 1/8-inch thick and tossed with a squeeze of lemon

4 oz. white mushrooms, halved if large and sliced cross-wise 1/8-inch thick

1/2 bunch very small spring onions (scallion-sized)—white, pale-green and equal amount of green—thinly sliced (you'll have about half of a cup)

2 T. unsalted butter

2 oz. (trimmed weight) asparagus, sliced 1/8-inch thick on a long diagonal (to make 2/3 to 3/4 cup)

1 1/2 oz. thinly sliced prosciutto, cut in 1/4-inch julienne

2 T. chiffonade flat-leaf parsley or arugula

1/2 to 1 T. butter

8 oz. penne, farfalle or fettuccine

finely grated Parmesan

Melt butter in a medium, wide sauté pan set over moderate heat.  Add the artichokes, mushrooms and spring onions along with a generous pinch of salt.  Stew gently until the liquid is released from the mushrooms and everything is coated in a buttery liquid—about 5 minutes.  

Add enough water to come about half way up the vegetables (1/4 cup or so) and bring to a simmer.  

Cover and cook over very low heat until the artichokes are tender (about 20 minutes).  Check the pan occasionally to make sure it hasn't simmered dry...add water as necessary.

Bring a large pot of water to the boil.  Salt well...it should taste salty.  Add the asparagus and cook until just tender—because of the way it has been cut, this should only take a minute or two.  Lift the asparagus out of the pot and add it to the pan of artichokes and mushrooms. Scatter the prosciutto and parsley over all and toss to combine.  Set aside in a warm place while you cook the pasta in the water the asparagus was cooked in.  When the pasta is al dente, drain—saving some of the pasta water—and add to the pan of vegetables along with a pat of butter.  Toss to combine, adding as much pasta water as is needed to lightly film the pasta and vegetables with a light, buttery film of liquid.  Serve topped with finely grated Parmesan.  Serves 2 to 3.

Notes...variations...additions:

• Instead of spring onion, use one small shallot (finely diced), a small leek (halved, cut cross-wise into a fine julienne and well-rinsed).  If you have access to green garlic, you could add a small head, coarsely chopped or thinly sliced.
• Add some picked fresh thyme and/or the zest of half of a lemon with the artichokes, mushrooms and spring onions.
• If you like, add 3 or 4 tablespoons of white wine to the artichokes and mushrooms when they are tender.  Reduce to a glaze before adding the water.
• Use a quarter cup of chicken stock instead of water.  When replenishing the liquid though, use water or the sauce will be to rich.
• If you would like to have a cream based sauce, when the artichokes are tender—and before adding the asparagus—add a quarter to a third of a cup of heavy cream and bring to a simmer. 
• Substitute peas or fava beans for the asparagus (or use a combination of any two of the three)
• Replace the parsley or arugula with another favorite herb—chives, basil, mint...
• Replace the final addition of butter with a large spoonful of mascarpone
• Omit the prosciutto and replace the Parmesan with Pecorino
• Recipe may be doubled to serve 4 to 6...simply choose a larger, wider pan to cook the vegetables.

Printable Recipe

The Reward that is the Artichoke...and a recipe for an Artichoke & Potato Frittata

I am having my own personal artichoke fest this spring.  I'm not sure what precipitated it.  If I were to guess, I would say that it has something to do with the length and intensity of the winter.  In a normal year I enjoy artichokes for a brief moment—from the point in early March when they typically show up in our stores until mid-April when the farmers' markets begin to fill with local asparagus, lettuces and spring onions.  Artichokes don't grow in the Midwest, so they aren't to be found at the farmers' markets.  Once local produce begins to come in, I seem to forget about them.  But this year, even though it is the end of April, we are still quite thin on local produce.  I don't remember a year when I have purchased so much California asparagus.  I have even begun purchasing spring onions at the grocery store...something I have never done before.  In any case, since I continue to see the artichokes whenever I am at the store...I have continued to bring them home.  And they have been so good. 

I mentioned in my last post that canned, jarred, frozen and otherwise preserved artichokes cannot hold a candle to the fresh.  It is true that it is an effort to prepare trimmed artichokes...but it is a task that can be learned and the more you do it, the easier it becomes.  It is truly worth learning how. 

I did not grow up eating artichokes.  The people I knew who did grow up eating them didn't eat them "turned".  Instead, their artichokes were steamed or boiled in their entirety...and then served that way.  Apparently you tear the leaves away at the table, dip the base of each leaf into a sauce and scrape this between your teeth to get at the meat.  You then discard the leaf.  When you are done with this tearing and teeth scraping, you will have a large pile of vegetable refuse at the table...but you finally get to eat the delicious heart (or the bottom)—which is where most of the edible portion resides.  Not only does this process create a mess at the table...the whole activity strikes me as a bit unseemly.  Furthermore, it is an odd activity for Americans who can almost never be induced to pick up their food with their hands or negotiate bones or pits of any kind while dining at a formal table (which is where whole artichokes most often show up).  For the sake of the diner, it is more than worth learning how to trim the artichoke down to its delicious edible core...before it is cooked.

It is also more than worth it for the sake of the cook!  Artichoke bottoms (as they are called) are amazingly versatile from the cook's perspective.  They can be poached, stewed, braised, sautéed or roasted.  They are a vegetable that neatly bridges the divide between late winter produce and early spring—taking well to the flavors and treatments of root vegetables as well as making a magnificent companion for the green vegetables of spring.  Their season is lengthy and during that time they can go into pastas, grain pilafs, and risottos....as well as gratins, stews and vegetable ragouts.  They are wonderful on a pizza or in a savory tart.   They partner well with almost any animal protein you can imagine...fin fish and shellfish, as well as lamb, chicken, beef, and cured meats like ham.  They are also delicious with eggs and cheese.  And it is with these accompaniments that I present them today, in a frittata.  Along with a simple salad of the beautiful lettuces that are just now showing up at the market and a warm crusty loaf of bread, this frittata makes a perfect light dinner...as well as a pretty great lunch of leftovers the next day. 

  

Artichoke & Potato Frittata

8 or 9 oz. baby Yukon, Dutch or new potatoes, scrubbed

2 to 3 T. Olive oil

Salt & freshly ground black pepper

2 large spring onions, trimmed, halved and thinly sliced (about a half cup)

2 large artichokes, turned and rubbed with lemon

1 oz. thinly sliced prosciutto (~2 slices), cut cross-wise into 1/4-inch ribbons

1/2 T. picked fresh thyme

1 1/2 T. minced Italian flat leaf parsley

6 large eggs, preferably at room temperature

1 oz. grated Parmesan (1/3 cup)

Place the potatoes in a small saucepan and cover with salted water.  Bring to a simmer and cook until tender when pierced with the tip of a knife.  Drain and set aside until cool enough to handle.  Peel the potatoes slice 1/4 to 1/3-inch thick.  Drizzle with a bit of olive oil, season to taste and set aside. 

Heat a tablespoon or so of oil in a medium-sized sauté pan.  Add the onion, along with a pinch of salt, and sweat until softened...5 minutes or so.  While the onions cook, halve the artichokes and cut the halves cross-wise into 1/4- to 1/3-inch thick slices.  When the onions are soft, add the artichoke pieces to the pan along with a pinch of salt.  If the pan seems dry, add a drizzle of oil.  Increase the heat to medium and continue to cook, stirring occasionally, until the artichokes begin to sizzle.  Add a splash of water (or white wine, if you prefer) to the pan (liquid should just cover the bottom of the pan) and bring to a simmer.  Reduce the heat and cover the pan.  Cook the artichokes at a gentle simmer until they are tender to the tip of a knife...15 to 20 minutes (check the pan occasionally to make sure there is always a small amount of liquid present, supplementing with more water as necessary). When the artichokes are tender, uncover and increase the heat so that any remaining liquid will evaporate.  When the artichokes are once again sizzling in the oil (i.e. all the liquid is gone), add the prosciutto and herbs.  Continue to cook for another minute or so, stirring/tossing to make sure the prosciutto and herbs are evenly distributed among the artichokes.  Taste and season.  Set aside.

To prepare the frittata, preheat the broiler and place a 10-inch non-stick sauté pan (I prefer French steel pans) over moderately high heat.  Break the eggs into a bowl and beat just to break them up.  Season with salt and pepper and fold in the potatoes and artichokes.  Add a half tablespoon or so of oil to the skillet.  When the skillet is hot (the oil should be almost smoking), add the egg mixture.  The eggs should begin to set immediately.  Shake the pan back and forth with one hand, while with the other you alternately stir in the center and lift at the edges (in order to let the uncooked egg run underneath those that have coagulated) using a heat-proof rubber spatula.  Continue cooking—stirring, shaking and lifting—until the eggs are mostly cooked but still a bit liquid-y (there will be large curds of coagulated egg and some liquid eggs). This should only take a couple of minutes.  Reduce the heat to very low and allow the frittata to sit without stirring for a minute or so (sliding the pan back and forth a couple of times to make sure the frittata isn't sticking).  This will give the frittata the opportunity to set up into a solid cake. 

When the frittata is mostly set, place the skillet under the broiler and broil just until the surface is no longer moist—about 30 seconds.  Sprinkle the cheese over the surface and broil again until the cheese melts—another 30 seconds.  Slide the finished frittata onto a platter or cutting board and let sit for a minute or two.  Cut into wedges and serve.  The frittata may also be served at room temperature.  Serves 4.

Printable Recipe

A Ragoût of Spring Vegetables for Easter

It was not my intention to write a blog post when I prepared this spring vegetable ragoût for dinner the other evening.  Then...as occasionally happens...it was so very good that I wanted to share it.  Besides, the fact that almost all of the work can be done ahead makes this an ideal dish to serve for a large holiday gathering....  like Easter.   So, for all of you who have not finished planning your Easter spread—and still need to come up with a special green vegetable side dish—this post is for you.

The recipe for this ragoût is really just a detailed example of a classic restaurant method for reheating vegetables.  Any single vegetable—or combination of vegetables—can be treated in this way.  To begin, simply cook all of the vegetables for your ragoût ahead using vegetable specific and appropriate methods:  Green vegetables should be blanched and then shocked in ice water when they are cooked to your liking.  Shocking will stop the cooking process and preserve their bright green color.  Other vegetables—most commonly small or baby root vegetables, artichokes, new potatoes or small onions—can be poached or braised to the point of doneness.   All of this can be done several hours...or even a day...before you plan to serve them. 

Reheating the vegetables is easy.  If you have time, let them come to room temperature.  Then, wilt some minced shallot in a small amount of butter or olive oil.  To the shallots add the vegetables and a thin film of water (or stock) and heat through.  When the vegetables are hot, season with salt and pepper, swirl in some butter—and herbs if you like—and serve. 

For an even more streamlined vegetable side, you may leave the shallot out.  Just film the pan with a bit of water (or stock), add the vegetables and proceed with the reheat.  The herbs should be altered to compliment the specific vegetables you are reheating...but they too, may be left out.  Whenever possible, I like to include both shallots and fresh herbs since these add so much to the final flavor.  For a large dinner, the shallots and herbs can both be minced a few hours ahead.

If you happened to see the salmon with asparagus and peas that I posted last month, the process of finishing the vegetables with butter will sound familiar.  In the case of the salmon dish the vegetables were not pre-cooked.  The cooking and finishing were all done in one step.  I mentioned briefly in that post that the finishing process worked the same whether you were reheating a vegetable, or cooking and finishing them all in one step.  That post was an example of the latter, today's is an example of the former.  As mentioned in that earlier post, the only trick to this finishing method is that you need to be careful to add roughly as much butter as there is liquid left in the pan so that the butter will emulsify easily into the simmering liquid, creating a light buttery sauce.  (You can actually add more butter than liquid, but the higher the proportion of butter, the thicker the sauce...and I prefer a more fluid sauce).  Agitation of the pan and its contents will encourage the emulsification process, so after adding the butter, gently slide the pan back and forth...or swirl in a circular motion...until the butter has disappeared into the ragoût.

For those interested in technical/professional terms, the French call this process of finishing a liquid/sauce by gradually adding  butter monter au beurre.  Not only does this process increase the volume of and enrich the sauce, the emulsification of the butter into the liquid adds a lovely sheen, a fluffier texture and a pleasant mouth feel.  It will also soften strong and/or acidic flavors.  If you don't know what to do to round out a sauce...or a vegetable...or a pasta dish...you could do worse than swirling in a small amount of butter.  Butter does indeed make just about everything better. 

In the ragoût I am sharing today there are multiple vegetable components.  And as noted above, they each require different methods of pre-cooking.  The asparagus and peas are simply blanched and shocked.  The artichokes are turned and poached in acidulated water.  If you have never "turned" a globe artichoke, you should give it a try.  I wrote a "how to" post a few years ago.  I know that turning artichokes can be a bit of a daunting task, but practice will make it easier.  You can of course use canned or frozen hearts, but there is truly no comparison between the taste of fresh artichokes and canned or frozen.  To me, the work involved in trimming a fresh artichoke is more than worth it. 

As for the spring onions, 

they are given a classic French treatment.  They are braised until they are soft, tender and beautifully glazed.  To prepare them, trim away the roots and all but the pale green.  If they are very small, they may be left whole.  Larger ones may be halved or quartered through the root.  

To cook, place them in a pan that is just large enough to hold them in a snug single layer.  Add water to come a third to half way up the sides of the onions.  Season lightly with salt.  Add a pinch of sugar and dot with butter.  

Bring to a simmer, cover and cook gently until the onions are tender to the tip of a knife.  Uncover and increase the heat slightly.  Continue to cook until the liquid has evaporated and the onions are glazed with the butter and sugar.  You may remove them from the heat at this point, or continue to cook them until the sugar caramelizes a bit.  

Glazed spring onions--cooked until lightly caramelized

These onions are a delicious addition/ finishing touch to any vegetable ragout or stew.  The same process may be applied to pearl onions, shallots or cipollini onions.

I love the composition of this particular ragoût...it just seems to shout "Spring!" with the dark green of the asparagus and peas, the paler green of the artichoke and the translucent white of the onion. You can include all...or only a few...or add/substitute other Spring vegetables (fava beans, for example).   The herbs too can be varied to suit your taste.  But I especially love the mint in this dish...it adds just the right bright, clean and refreshing note.  And in the end, that's what this dish on your Easter table should be all about...a refreshing and bright addition to a feast simultaneously marking the advent of Spring and the promise of new life.    Happy Easter.

   

Spring Vegetable Ragoût

6 spring onions, white and pale green parts only, roots trimmed away

unsalted butter

Salt & freshly ground black pepper

Sugar

Juice of half a lemon

4 globe artichokes, "turned"

1 c. English (shelling) peas, fresh or frozen

1 lb. medium asparagus, trimmed and cut into 2-inch lengths on a diagonal

2 to 4 T. unsalted butter

1 shallot, finely minced

3 or 4 sprigs of thyme, picked

water or stock

2 T. coarsely chopped Italian flat leaf parsley

2 T. coarsely chopped fresh mint

Vegetable Prep

Halve (or quarter, if very large) the spring onions through the root.  Place in a pan that is just large enough to hold them in a snug single layer.  Add water to come a third to half way up the sides of the onions.  Season sparingly with salt and pepper.  Add a pinch of sugar and dot with butter.  Cover and bring to a simmer.  Simmer until the onions are just tender to the tip of a knife.  As the cook, check occasionally to make sure there is still some liquid in the pan.  Add more if necessary.  When the onions are tender, remove the lid and increase the heat.  Simmer briskly until the onions are sizzling in the butter and are coated with a syrup-y glaze.  You may leave them without color, or cook them until the sugar begins to caramelize a bit.  Do not burn.  Transfer to a plate and let cool.

Add the lemon juice to a large pot of water and bring to a boil.  Season with salt.  Cut the artichokes into 8 wedges each and add to the boiling water.  Cook until tender—about 15 minutes.  Drain and set aside.

In another pot of boiling salted water, blanch the peas until just tender—this should only take a couple of minutes.  Scoop out and cool in an ice bath.  Transfer to a plate.  If using frozen peas, simply thaw.

In the same pot of water the peas were blanched in, blanch the asparagus until just tender.  Scoop out and cool in an ice bath.  Transfer to the plate with the peas.

Cooked vegetables, along with shallots and herbs
...ready for a final reheat 

 Prepare the Ragoût

Place a wide sauté pan—one that is large enough to accommodate all of the vegetables—over medium heat and add a tablespoon or so of butter.  When the butter has melted.  Add the shallots and thyme—along with a pinch of salt—and sweat until softened.  This will only take a minute or so.  Add the vegetables and enough water to just coat the bottom of the pan—maybe 2 or 3 tablespoons.  Increase the heat and bring to a simmer, tossing the vegetables occasionally, until they are heated through.  Add the butter and swirl and toss to help it emulsify into the water (the goal is a light, emulsified butter-y sauce).  Remove from the heat and season with salt & pepper.  Toss in the mint and  the parsley.  Serve hot.  Serves 4 to 6.

(Recipe adapted from Frank Stitt's Southern Table)

Printable Version

Slow Roasted Salmon served with a quick Barigoule of Artichokes with Baby Potatoes & Salsa Verde

The March issues of my food magazines have begun to arrive in the mail.  As usual I'm a bit behind in my reading—it was only toward the end of this week that I finally had a minute to sit down and look through the January issues of these same magazines.  I'm glad that I didn't just bypass the January and February issues though in an attempt to be current...I would have missed out.  The January Bon Appetit in particular was filled with beautiful and inspirational food.  I was especially drawn to an image of a platter of slow roasted salmon....so vivid I wanted to reach in and pick up a piece with my fingers.  I could already taste it.     

Slow roasted salmon is delicious.  So moist and succulent that Suzanne Goin compares its  texture to custard.  It is also extremely easy to prepare.  If you have never cooked fish (or don't cook it very often) because you are worried about overcooking it, this would be a good method to try.  As the article in Bon Appetit emphasizes, it is difficult to overcook fish when using this slow, gentle, low-heat method.  You don't need any special equipment...or even any special seasonings.  The recipe in Bon Appetit includes citrus, fennel, spices and herbs...but all you really need is olive oil, salt and pepper.  Simply place the salmon (in one large piece—skinned or not, as you prefer...although I think it's easier to serve if the skin is removed prior to cooking) in an oiled baking dish, season well with salt and pepper, drizzle generously with olive oil and place in a 250° to 275° oven.  

Bake until the salmon flakes when prodded and is still a bit translucent in the center.  An instant read thermometer, inserted at the thickest part of the filet, will read between 120° and 125°.  This will take anywhere from 25 to 40 minutes, depending on the size and the thickness of the filet.  

Break into large chunks and serve.

Artichokes began arriving in the stores sometime during the last couple of weeks and I have been looking for a reason to bring some home.  I finally bought a couple yesterday, knowing they would be delicious with the slow roasted salmon.  To prepare them I made a pared down version of a classic Provençal braise of artichokes called a barigoule.  In traditional versions of this dish, whole turned artichokes are gently simmered in a flavorful broth made up of thinly sliced aromatic vegetables, white wine, water and olive oil.  The aromatic vegetables that are used vary a bit from version to version...but not too much.  They include onions, leeks, carrots, fennel, celery and garlic.  Thyme, bay, and winter savory are other traditional flavoring agents.  For my simplified barigoule I only used onions, carrots, garlic, thyme and bay.  And instead of simmering the whole turned artichokes, I sliced them first.  I varied the stew a bit more by slipping in some halved baby potatoes for the last 20 minutes or so.  I love potatoes with artichokes....and adding them to the stew made it so I didn't have to prepare a separate starch to round out our meal.  

When I plated the vegetables and salmon, I spooned some salsa verde over everything.  Although the barigoule and salmon would have been delicious on their own, the bright and lively flavors of this sauce were the perfect finishing touch. 

Slow Roasted Salmon for Two

2/3 to 3/4 pounds salmon filet, in one piece (center cut filet, if possible), skin and bones removed

salt & freshly ground black pepper

about 2 T. olive oil

Drizzle some of the olive oil in a baking dish that is just large enough to hold the salmon.  Season the salmon on both sides with salt and pepper.  Place in the baking dish (skinned-side down) and drizzle with enough olive oil to lightly coat.

Place the baking dish in a 275° oven and bake until the salmon is cooked to your liking.  It should feel springy to the touch, but flake with a bit of encouragement.  If you like it medium-rare, it should still be slightly translucent in the center.  I like mine at about 120°.  Start checking at 25 minutes.  Use two large spoons to remove large chunks and serve. 

Printable Recipe

Quick Artichokes Barigoule with Baby Potatoes

2 T. olive oil

1/2 of a medium onion, thinly sliced

1 medium carrot, peeled and thinly sliced on a slight angle

1 fat clove of garlic, peeled and thinly sliced

salt & pepper, to taste

a sprig of two of fresh thyme

2 globe artichokes, turned and rubbed with lemon

1/3 c. dry white wine

1 c. water

1 small (or half a large) bay leaf

1/2 lb. small creamer or fingerling potatoes, halved lengthwise (the halves should be about 1/2- to 3/4-inch thick)

Warm a tablespoon of olive oil in a wide sauteuse set over medium heat.  Add the onion and carrot along with a pinch of salt.  Sweat, reducing the heat if necessary, until the vegetables have begun to soften but have not begun to color (the onions should be tender and translucent)—about 10 to 15 minutes. 

Add the garlic and thyme and cook for a moment or two, or until the garlic is fragrant. 

Slice the artichokes thickly (about 1/3-inch) and add to the pan along with another tablespoon of olive oil.  Season with salt and pepper and continue to cook until the artichokes begin to sizzle gently.  

Add the white wine, bring to a rapid simmer and reduce by half.  Add the water along with the bay, return to a simmer, cover and simmer gently for 10 minutes. 

Uncover the pan and taste the broth.  Add more salt if necessary.  Add the potatoes, nestling them down into the broth.  Cover and continue to simmer until all the vegetables are tender—another 20 to 30 minutes.  Remove the thyme and bay, taste and correct the seasoning and serve.

To serve the Salmon and Barigoule together, begin roasting the salmon when you add the artichokes to the barigoule.  While the salmon and artichokes cook, prepare the salsa verde.  (For this particular dish, I prepared it without the anchovy...but it is fine to leave it in if you want.  For the herbs I used all parsley, but artichokes are delicious with basil and mint, so feel free to use some of one or the other of these if you have some on hand.)  If either the salmon or vegetables are done before the other, simply set the finished item aside in a warm place until the other is finished cooking—this shouldn't be too long....maybe 10 minutes at the outside.  Divide the barigoule between two plates (making sure to get all the delicious broth) and arrange chunks of the roasted salmon over the vegetables, drizzling with the pan juices as you do.  Spoon some of the salsa verde over each plate—focusing mostly on the salmon and drizzling some into the vegetable stew.  Pass more salsa verde separately. 

These recipes are written for two, but they can be increased to serve as many as you like.  This would be a beautiful dish to serve family style in a deep platter or shallow gratin.

Printable Recipe