Chickpea Salad with Roasted Red Peppers

An unfortunate fact of a long career in foods is that you forget a lot. Not just things you thought you would never forget…like the exact method you used to use every single day to execute a certain preparation.  Sometimes you forget about the existence of entire recipes.  The recipe I’m sharing today is one of those recipes. 

I’m not quite sure now how it came up in conversation, but a friend was telling me how much she loved my Chickpea salad…that it was so versatile…that she makes it frequently.  I was gratified that she was enjoying a recipe I had shared so much.  But I finally told her that I was drawing a complete blank regarding the salad. 

She was surprised I had forgotten it…but she obliged me by describing it in more detail:  roasted bell peppers…  green olives…  celery…  a spicy vinaigrette….  Slowly I began to remember the salad.  To make it even more embarrassing, it wasn’t just a recipe I had only made a time or two.  I had actually taught it in a class on salads. After her reminder, I decided I needed to make it again soon.

I admit I didn’t follow through.  I actually have no idea how long ago it was that this conversation took place.  But sometime this summer I remembered the recipe and the conversation (all on my own).  It is likely that the recipe popped into my head due to the fact that my eating habits have changed slightly as I have morphed from a household of two into a household of one.  Things that keep well and are versatile regarding the manner in which they can be served hold great appeal.  This salad is a winner in both categories.  It keeps for several days (the flavor, in fact, improves).  It functions well as a side dish—to lamb…or chicken…or fish (it was accompanied by olive oil poached tuna in that long ago class).  And it is excellent as a part of a salad platter or meze spread (recently it made a particularly fine workday lunch with a grated carrot salad, soft cooked egg, and flatbread).  It would be great on a picnic or as part of a boxed lunch.

Since I rediscovered this recipe I have made it several times.  It was originally part of a summer salad class because of the roasted red peppers—but it doesn’t have to be a summer salad.  Beautiful ripe peppers are available well into fall.  And good quality hot house peppers (while not as delicious as the local specimens) are available year round.  I can definitely see this salad becoming part of my regular rotation of “go-to” recipes.  I’m so glad I shared it with a friend…or it might have been lost forever. 

 

Chickpea Salad with Roasted Red Peppers

& Moroccan Vinaigrette

For the vinaigrette:

2 T. freshly squeezed & strained lemon juice

1 small clove garlic, smashed to a purée with a pinch of salt

1/2 t. ground cumin

1/8 t. cayenne pepper (or more, to taste)

Salt & freshly ground pepper

1/4 c. olive oil

For the salad:

1 can (14-oz) chickpeas (garbanzo beans), drained and rinsed (1 1/2 c.)

2 large red bell peppers (about 14 oz.), roasted, peeled, seeded & cut in a 1/2-inch dice

1/4 to 1/3 c. finely diced red onion, rinsed under cold running water and blotted dry

A generous 1/3 c. very thinly sliced heart of celery, including some of the leaves

1/4 cup finely sliced cilantro (or flat leaf parsley, if you prefer)

10 pitted large green olives

Salt & Pepper, to taste

To make the vinaigrette, in a small bowl whisk together the lemon juice, garlic, and spices.  Season to taste with salt and pepper.  Gradually whisk in the olive oil in a thin stream to form an emulsion. Set aside.   

To make the salad, drain and rinse the chickpeas and place in a large bowl.  Add the peppers, onions, celery, cilantro and enough vinaigrette to generously coat the ingredients.  Toss to coat.  Taste and correct the seasoning.  At this point, the salad can be left at room temperature to marinate for up to 30 minutes, or it may be covered and refrigerated (it keeps well for several days—check the seasoning before serving).  If refrigerated, bring to room temperature to serve. 

Serves 3 to 4

Notes:

• The recipe multiplies well for larger appetites, or a crowd
• If you have harissa on hand, it is delicious served on the side

Printable Version 

Baked Rigatoni alla Norma (with Roasted Red Peppers…)

We had an early hard freeze this year.  In most years I can count on being able to get tomatoes, eggplant, peppers, zucchini and other late season vegetables until the end of October…and sometimes even into the first few days of November.  But this year, a freeze early in the month put an end to the growing season for these crops.  So a couple of weeks ago when growers brought the last of these favorites into the market, I bought all that I thought I could reasonably use up in the foreseeable future. 

Saturday I decided that their moment was truly over.  I had one large eggplant, a couple of poblanos and two large red bell peppers left.  I roasted all the peppers.  I packaged the poblanos and stuck them in the freezer.  The roasted bells that remained and the eggplant seemed like they had great potential for saucing some pasta for dinner that night.    

I have been thinking about Pasta alla Norma for a while now.   For those unfamiliar with this classic Sicilian pasta—it is a simple, but intensely flavored, pasta sauce of fried eggplant in tomato sauce.  It is typically seasoned with basil and finished with ricotta salata. I have been thinking about it because it seems like recipes for it have been crossing my path with some regularity in recent weeks.  Joshua McFadden has a sausage enhanced variation in his Six Seasons (which is a recent addition to my cookbook library.)   There have been others, but the one in the October issue of Bon Appétit—a baked riff on alla Norma, served burnished and bubbling in a cast iron skillet—looked particularly beguiling.

So, I decided to take advantage of the contents of my pantry and make my own variation.  I followed Bon Appétit’s lead and baked the sauced pasta in the same cast iron I used to fry the eggplant.  Since I seem to recall seeing several recipes that included capers, I decided to add some of those.  And if Joshua McFadden can add sausage to the classic, then I can certainly add some roasted red peppers.  My fresh basil succumbed to a fungus a while back (and would have died during our recent hard freeze, in any case), so I added a shower of dried oregano.  And since I love baked pastas filled with pockets of fresh ricotta, I substituted fresh ricotta for the salted and drained version.

In ordinary years I would have made my tomato sauce with fresh tomatoes from the market, but I used up the last ones in a sauce of some kind over a week ago (and didn’t get around to freezing any this year…).  Fortunately, I had just this week stocked my pantry with canned San Marzano style tomatoes.  So I used a can of those to make a basic sauce.  If you have a favorite sauce you like to make, you should feel free to use it—you will need 2 cups. 

Before I finish, I want to comment about my method for the eggplant.  In general I am not a fan of pre-salting eggplant.  Pre-salting is used as a way to draw out the juices from the eggplant that tend to become bitter as the eggplant sits in storage.  Since I mostly use fresh, peak season eggplant, I usually don’t find it necessary to salt it ahead.  But for the eggplant I wanted to use in my pasta—that had been hanging out in my produce bin for at least two weeks—I decided salting ahead would be a good idea.  Since pre-salting has the additional benefit of making the eggplant flesh less prone to absorbing oil, I was able to use a bit less oil for the frying.  If you use recently harvested eggplant that doesn’t need pre-salting, you might need to add a touch more oil during the frying process. 

I honestly had no intention of posting this recipe…I really just wanted to be a good steward of the produce so carefully grown by our local growers.  But it turned out to be fantastic—one of those baked pastas that you have to force yourself to remove from the table so you won’t continue to nibble away at it until you’ve eaten way more than your fill.  I just had to share it.  Not only was it delicious right out of the oven, it reheated beautifully to make a very satisfying lunch the next day (with a fresh drizzle of oil…and a sprinkling of more pecorino or parmesan).  Sadly—since I’m all out of peppers and eggplant—I won’t be able to make it again this year.  But perhaps you still have some peppers and eggplant in your pantry…in which case, you really should make this.  As for me, when the season for eggplant and peppers arrives again…this pasta bake will be at the top of my list.    

Baked Rigatoni alla Norma

1 large globe eggplant (about 500 to 550 g.)

Kosher salt

2 large red bell peppers (about 400 to 450 g.)

6 T. olive oil, divided

4 to 5 cloves garlic, peeled and minced

1/4 t. hot pepper flakes (more or less, to taste)

2 t. dried oregano

2 T. capers, drained and rinsed

3/4 lb. rigatoni (or other short sturdy pasta)

200 g. whole milk ricotta

2 oz. (2/3 c.) finely grated Parmesan or Pecorino…or a mix of the two

Preheat the broiler to high.

Top and tail the eggplant.  Slice the eggplant cross-wise into 1/2-inch thick rounds.  Cut the rounds in half.  Cut the halves into 1/2-inch wide sticks.  In a large bowl, toss the eggplant with a slightly mounded teaspoon of kosher salt.  Transfer the eggplant to a colander and let drain for a half hour. 

While the eggplant drains, roast the peppers.  Rub the peppers with a thin film of oil and place on a small baking sheet.  Run the peppers under the broiler, turning them as they char until they are charred and blistered all over.  Remove from under the broiler and set aside to cool.  Place the rack in the middle of the oven and preheat the oven to 375°. 

When cool enough to handle, peel and seed the peppers (working over a sieve set over a bowl so that you can capture any juices released by the peppers).  Discard the skin and seeds and cut the flesh of the peppers into 1/2-inch wide strips.  Cut the strips in half so that the pepper strips will be similar in length to the eggplant pieces.  Add the pepper strips to any pepper juicers and set aside

Meanwhile, make the tomato sauce.  Place a medium sauté over moderate heat.  Add a quarter cup of olive oil to the pan along with the garlic and pepper flakes.  Cook until the garlic is sizzling and just beginning to acquire a faint golden tinge.  Add the tomatoes (that have been pulsed in the food processor or run through a food mill fitted with the largest disc).  Bring to a simmer.  Add the oregano.  Simmer until the sauce is thickened and reduced to 2 cups.  This will take about 20 minutes.  Taste and correct the seasoning.

When the eggplant has been sitting for half an hour, quickly rinse under a spray of running water.  Shake the colander to get rid of the excess water and transfer the eggplant to a double thickness of kitchen towels.  Place another double thickness of kitchen towels over the eggplant and press and scrunch to absorb the water and dry off the eggplant.

Place a large cast iron skillet over medium high to high heat.  Add 2 T. of olive oil.  When the olive oil is shimmering, add the eggplant, spreading it out into a snug single layer.  Cook, turning the eggplant pieces occasionally and regulating the heat to prevent scorching (while maintaining an active sizzle) until the eggplant is golden and tender to the tip of a knife.  This will take about 20 to 30 minutes (you will probably need to reduce the heat to medium after about 10 minutes of cooking).  When the eggplant is tender, add the tomato sauce, capers, and the peppers along with their liquid to the pan.  Bring to a simmer before reducing the heat to the lowest setting to keep the sauce warm and allow the flavors to blend while you cook the pasta.

Bring a large pot of salted water to the boil.  Add the rigatoni and cook for five minutes. It will still be quite al dente.  Drain, reserving a small amount of the pasta water.  Transfer the pasta to a large bowl—or return it to the pot.  Add the sauce to the bowl/pot (scraping the skillet well with a heatproof rubber spatula) and fold the sauce and pasta together.  If the pasta seems dry, add a splash of pasta water.  (I didn’t find this necessary, but it is conceivable that you might if your tomato sauce is very thick.)  Transfer half of the pasta and sauce back to the cast iron skillet and dollop evenly with half of the ricotta.  

Scatter half of the Parmesan/Pecorino over all.  

Repeat this layering with the remaining pasta and sauce, ricotta and Parmesan/Pecorino. 

Place the skillet in a preheated 375° oven and bake until the ricotta is tinged with golden brown—about 25 to 30 minutes.  Serves 4 to 6.

Notes:

• My large cast iron skillet measures 11 1/4-inches across the top (it is slightly flared, so it would have a slightly smaller diameter at the bottom).  It holds 3 quarts.  If you don’t have a cast iron skillet that is about this size, you can of course use any heavy oven proof skillet that has the same capacity.  You can also mix up the pasta and sauce and then layer it into an oiled 3-quart casserole (13- by 9-inch or equivalent).  Bake as directed in the recipe.
• You can make the roasted red peppers and tomato sauce ahead.  In a pinch you could use a good quality prepared tomato sauce.  You can also use your favorite homemade sauce.  You will need 2 cups.  I have never found a processed/jarred roasted pepper that I thought was worth eating.

Printable Version

Early Autumn Medley of Roasted Eggplant & Peppers with Chickpeas and Freekeh

Although eggplant and bell peppers are technically summer vegetables, they continue to appear on my table all through the early weeks of fall.  I may even like them better in the fall.  During the late summer I am so busy consuming my fill of corn and tomatoes and summer squash that these rich jewels of late summer are sometimes pushed to the side.  But when the weather begins to turn cool…and the light begins to fade before we sit down to eat…I am really in the mood for the savory and substantial gratins, tarts, pastas, ragouts and stews in which these two really shine.

 

The recipe I’m sharing today is a perfect example of this.  It has more substance than the things I am likely to prepare on a warm summer day—but it is perfect for a cool evening.  Furthermore, as a person who is very attached to the light, it is cheering to be able to serve these vibrant fruits of summer during the rapidly fading light of an early fall evening.    

There are really two recipes embedded in this one recipe.  One is for a medley of chickpeas and roasted eggplant and peppers—all dressed in a lemony vinaigrette.  On a hot summer day, it would make a fantastic side for grilled lamb or steak.  Just add herbs (parsley, basil, mint or marjoram)…and maybe a few olives....

The other recipe is for a spiced freekeh pilaf.  I have posted several freekeh pilafs in the past and this is only slightly altered from those.  The first time I made this dish I spiced my pilaf with cinnamon and cumin.  The second time, I was measuring out the cinnamon when all of a sudden it occurred to me that fennel seed would be delicious instead of cinnamon.  I preferred the fennel…but you should use whichever you like best.  If you don’t have any freekeh…or don’t like it…simply substitute medium bulgur.  Bulgur only takes 15 to 20 minutes to cook (rather than 20 to 25), so adjust the recipe accordingly.  You could also simply serve the medley of vegetables on a mound of plain couscous.

This moment when the time is right for hearty eggplant and pepper preparations is short.  In a couple of weeks I know I will be totally ready for winter squash…and root vegetables…and rich, meat stews and braises.  But for now, dishes like this one are the perfect way for me to ease into the new season without quite letting go of the one that came before.

Early Autumn Medley of Roasted Eggplant & Peppers

with Chickpeas and Freekeh

This recipe might seem a bit complicated and lengthy, but it isn’t really.  It is difficult to express in the instructions, but many or the steps can be accomplished simultaneously.  I have kept the instructions for the “topping” of roasted vegetables and chickpeas together and separate from the preparation of the freekeh pilaf for clarity, but when you make it, it will be most efficient to sort of do everything at once.  Start with the bell peppers.  While they are roasting, start the onions for the pilaf.  Then, make the lemon-garlic vinaigrette and add the chickpeas.  When the peppers are done, put the eggplant in the oven.  At that point the onions will be done and you can add the freekeh and spices.  The eggplant will roast while the freekeh cooks.  You will be free during this time to peel and seed the peppers and mince the herbs.  The nuts can be toasted after the eggplant comes out of the oven.  (Or, if you prefer to do some of the work ahead, the bell pepper can be roasted, peeled and seeded ahead…and the nuts can be toasted, chopped and seasoned ahead.)

1 to 1 1/4 lb. red bell peppers (2 large or 3 medium)

Olive oil

2 T. lemon juice

1 large or 2 small cloves garlic, smashed to a purée with a pinch of salt

1/4 t. cayenne

1 15-oz. can chickpeas, drained and rinsed

1 1/2 lb. eggplant, topped & tailed and cut into 3/4- to 1-inch cubes

1/4 to 1/3 c. pistachios

1 medium red onion (about 8 oz), finely diced

1 1/3 c. freekeh, rinsed

1 t. fennel seed, crushed in a mortar & pestle

1 1/2 t. ground cumin

1 1/2 c. water

1/2 c. golden raisins

1 to 2 T. minced parsley

1 to 2 T. minced mint

Strained yogurt, Greek yogurt, or Labneh for serving

Roast the bell peppers:  Preheat the broiler to high.  Rub the peppers with a thin film of olive oil and place on a baking sheet.  Slide the peppers under the broiler, allowing them to char before rotating to expose all sides to the heat of the broiler.  When the skin is blackened and blistered all over, remove from the oven and set aside until cool enough to handle.  Adjust the oven rack to the middle position and set the oven to 450°.

While the peppers roast, place the lemon juice, garlic and cayenne in a large bowl.  Whisk to break up the garlic.  Whisk 2 T. olive oil into the lemon mixture.  Add the chickpeas and toss to coat.  Peel and seed the peppers and cut into a rough 1-inch dice.  Add the peppers to the chickpeas, folding to distribute.  Taste and correct the seasoning with salt.

Meanwhile, toss the eggplant in a generous amount of olive oil (about 3 T.) and season with salt & pepper.   Transfer the eggplant to a rimmed baking sheet that has been lightly sprayed with pan spray.  Roast in the preheated oven, rotating the pan from front to back  half way through the cooking time.  If you like, "stir" the eggplant once as it cooks by turning it over with a pancake turner.  The eggplant is done when it is golden and tender—about 25 minutes. 

When the eggplant is done cooking, remove from the oven and reduce the oven temperature to 350°.  Let the eggplant cool on the sheet for few minutes.  While it is still hot, add it to the bowl with the chickpeas and peppers and fold in.  Taste and correct the seasoning with salt, cayenne pepper and lemon juice.  

While the peppers and eggplant roast, cook the freekeh.  Warm 3 T. or so of olive oil in a heavy-bottomed pot set over medium heat. Add the onions and stir to coat in the fat. Sweat, stirring occasionally, until the onion is soft and translucent and just beginning to take on a bit of color at the edges—about 10 to 15 minutes. Increase the heat to medium high and add the drained freekeh along with the spices and a generous pinch of salt. Continue to cook for a minute  or so until the grains are coated in the oil and sizzling in the hot oil. Add the water and bring to a full boil. Reduce the heat to the lowest setting and cook, covered until the freekeh is tender—20 to 25 minutes. Remove from the heat and scatter the golden raisins over the surface of the freekeh. Cover and let rest for 5 minutes.  Add the herbs and fluff with a fork.  Taste and correct the seasoning. 

While the freekeh cooks, spread pistachios on a baking sheet and lightly toast in a 350­° oven until fragrant and tinged with a bit of color.  Don’t overdo it—you want the nuts to remain bright green.  Cool, chop coarsely and drizzle with a small amount of oil.  Season with salt.

To serve, mound the freekeh on individual plates or on a large platter.  Spoon the roasted vegetables over the freekeh and scatter the toasted pistachios over all.  Pass strained yogurt or labneh separately.  Serves 4 to 5.

Variations: 

• Substitute ground cinnamon for the fennel seed in the pilaf.
• Scatter crumbled Feta over the finished dish instead of passing labneh on the side.
• Substitute Bulgur for Freekeh.  Cook for 15 to 20 minutes. Use 1 2/3 c. water.

Printable Version

Golden Couscous with Chicken, Carrots, Turnips & Summer Squash

I tend to think of braises and stews as being autumn and winter foods.  But recently as I looked at some of my farmers' market vegetables I realized that I had the makings of a traditional Moroccan-style couscous of chicken and vegetables.  I have always thought it was odd that these stews often feature a combination of what I think of as winter root vegetables (carrots and turnips) and summer squash (or zucchini).  But there they were...young carrots, golden turnips and yellow squash...all in my market basket at the same moment.  And I have to admit that as we sat down to our hot, fragrant and spicy bowl of stew and couscous on a recent rather sultry evening, the food seemed to be a perfect (although unusual for me) match for the day. 

I should say up front that the dish I prepared is by no means an authentic couscous.  An authentic couscous would use dried (as opposed to canned) chickpeas...and it would definitely not use our ubiquitous instant/pre-steamed couscous.  A true Moroccan...or Algerian....couscous is prepared in a special pot called a couscoussière.  The pot is constructed like a double boiler-style steamer.  The bottom portion is a typical stewing pot and the top piece has a perforated bottom so that the couscous (a dried granular, semolina pasta) can steam over the fragrant stew—taking on the perfume of the spices in the stew as it cooks.  The cooking process takes two or three hours and twice during that time the couscous is turned out onto a large pan (like a paella pan) so that it can be hand "fluffed."  I had the pleasure of participating in the making of a traditional Algerian couscous many years ago while I was working in France.  It took the better part of an afternoon, and although I enjoyed myself immensely, when I want to put dinner on the table here at home, I am grateful for our pre-steamed couscous—which only takes about 10 minutes to make (and is pretty much all that one finds at American grocery stores).

The preparation of the "stew" portion of the couscous follows all of the basic rules of braising and stewing.  I wrote a stewing basics post several years ago that goes into all the pertinent details.  If you are a novice to stewing...or aren't happy with the way your stews turn out...you might take a few moments to read that post.  A well made stew or braise is, I think, one of the finest foods around.

When I made our stew, I chose to use all chicken drumsticks.  If you don't like to eat with your hands, drumsticks aren't the best choice.  But if you don't mind, they are perfect...the one end making a convenient little handle.  Just make sure you provide plenty of napkins...or even finger bowls of water.  You can also make it with thighs—which are a bit easier to tackle with knife and fork...or are easily deboned in the kitchen so that people don't have to wrestle with bones at the table at all.  I would discourage the use of white meat for this stew.  You must pull the white meat out when it is just cooked or it will be tough and dry.  The vegetables will then have to go on cooking until they are done.  The vegetables take 50 minutes to an hour to cook.  The dark meat pieces are a perfect match since they will cook to beautiful, flavorful tenderness in just this amount of time.

Finally, the choice of vegetable varieties is up to you.  I happened to bring home some lovely Gold Ball turnips along with my carrots and yellow squash.  The result—when combined with the saffron and turmeric—was what I thought was a fantastically beautiful study in yellows, oranges and golds.  But you can obviously make this dish with regular white turnips.  And even though I have lumped the carrots and turnips together in the ingredient list, I would encourage you to use roughly an equal quantity of each.  The stew will be a bit sweet and one dimensional without the turnips..and will tend towards bitterness without the balance of the carrots.  You may also use regular old zucchini instead of the yellow squash.  In the fall, you could make this dish with winter—instead of summer—squash.  Add winter squash 10 minutes after the root vegetables have been simmering for 10 minutes.

Chicken Braised with Carrots, Turnips and Summer Squash

2 1/2 to 3 lbs. chicken drumsticks, thighs or a combination

2 T. olive oil, divided

1 1/2 T. butter

1 1/4 lb. carrots and turnips—in any combination that you prefer (see post)—trimmed and peeled

10 to 12 oz. summer squash or zucchini

1 large onion (12 oz.), diced

3 to 4 cloves garlic, minced

1 2-inch piece cinnamon stick

1/2 t. (slightly mounded) ground ginger

1/4 t. (slightly mounded) turmeric

2 c. chicken stock or no-salt canned chicken broth

Generous pinch of saffron, crumbled

1 can chickpeas, drained and rinsed

1/2 T. freshly squeezed lemon juice...more or less as needed

1/3 c. finely sliced flat leaf parsley

1/3 c. finely sliced cilantro

2 T. Harissa (more or less, to taste)—purchased, or make your own (recipe below)

Season the chicken generously with salt and pepper.  In a large braising pan (wide enough to hold all the chicken and deep enough to accommodate all of the chicken and vegetables) set over moderate heat melt the butter in 1 T. of the olive oil.  When the butter is melted, increase the heat.  When the butter foam subsides, add the chicken (skin side down if using thighs).  Carefully brown the chicken until the fat is rendered and the skin is crisp and golden.  Regulate the heat as necessary to maintain and active sizzle without scorching the chicken.  Drumsticks will need to be carefully rotated and will take longer—perhaps 20 to 25 minutes.  Thighs will primarily need to be browned on the skin side with only a quick surface sear on the side without skin and will take less time. 

While the chicken browns, cut the vegetables.  Cut the carrots on a short diagonal into 3/4- to 1-inch chunks.  Cut the turnips into a rough 3/4- to 1-inch dice.  Trim the ends away from the squash.  Cut into 1-inch chunks. 

Remove the browned chicken pieces to a plate.  Add the onions to the pan along with a pinch of salt (and more olive oil if the pan seems dry).  Cook the onions over moderate heat—reducing the heat if they onions start to brown too much—until quite soft...15 minutes or longer, if necessary.  Add the garlic, cinnamon stick, ginger and turmeric and cook until fragrant (about a minute).  

Add the broth and the browned chicken (along with any juices that have been released as the chicken sits) to the pan.  Bring to a simmer.  Crumble in the saffron and season with 3/4 t. kosher salt (less if you have used salted broth).  Add the carrots and turnips and bring to a simmer.  Cover with a tight fitting lid and simmer gently for 20 minutes.  Add the squash...making sure all the vegetables are submerged in the broth...return to a simmer, cover and cook another 20 minutes.  Add the chickpeas, cover and continue to simmer until the vegetables and chicken are tender—another 10 to 20 minutes.  Taste and correct the seasoning.  If the dish seems very sweet...or one dimensional...add a squeeze of lemon.  

Serve with cilantro and parsley scattered over.  Pass Harissa separately so each diner can drizzle it on to taste (or...if you prefer...and you know that everyone will enjoy the heat of Harissa, stir 2 T. of Harissa into the broth prior to serving).  Serve accompanied by Apricot & Pistachio Couscous.

Serves 4 to 6.

Apricot & Pistachio Couscous

1 c. couscous

3/4 t. kosher salt

1/2 c. sliced dried apricots (75 grams)

2 T. unsalted butter

1 1/4 c. water

1/2 c. pistachios, toasted and coarsely chopped

1/4 t. cinnamon

Place the couscous in a medium sized bowl.  Add the salt and apricots and toss to combine.  Cut the butter into chunks and scatter over the surface.  Bring the water to a boil and pour over, swirling the bowl gently to make sure the water penetrates all of the couscous.  Cover tightly with plastic wrap and let stand for 10 minutes.  Uncover, add the pistachios and cinnamon and fluff with a fork.  Taste and correct the seasoning.

Printable Recipe (Stew & Couscous)

Harissa

1 t. cumin seed

1/2 t. coriander seed

1/2 t. caraway seed

4 hot red dried chiles (I use chile de árbol)—about 2 inches in length, stemmed and seeded or not...as you prefer...and rough chopped

2 cloves peeled garlic

3/4 t. coarse salt, or to taste

1 medium red bell pepper—roasted, peeled, and chopped coarse

1 t. tomato paste

1 T. olive oil

Toast whole spices and chiles in a dry skillet until fragrant, then cool.

With an electric spice grinder, a cleaned coffee grinder, or a mortar and pestle, grind seeds and chiles fine. Transfer ground spices to a small food processor and add garlic and salt.  Grind mixture to a paste.  Add roasted pepper, tomato paste, and oil and process until smooth.

The harissa will keep, covered in a jar in the refrigerator, for weeks. It is HOT, savory and delicious.  Serve as a condiment with couscous and tagine. Makes 1/2 cup.

Notes: 

• I use a rounded measure for each of the spices...and I remove the seeds from half of the chiles. 
• If using a spice or coffee grinder to grind the spices and chiles, let the grinder sit for a moment or two before opening to allow the spices to settle. If you open it right away some of the spices and more significantly some of the chiles will be airborne—which will irritate your eyes and nose. 

(Harissa recipe courtesy of my friend Chef Nancy Stark)

Printable Recipe (Harissa)

Pasta with a Creamy Yellow Bell Pepper & Tomato Sauce

Sometimes simplicity is deceptive....  Today's pasta sauce is a good example.  Other than its brilliant...almost neon...color, one might be tempted to pass it by as plain and boring...there just isn't much to see.  The few ingredients are cooked in a straightforward way and then puréed into a smooth and uniform sauce.  Visually, it could probably pass for baby food.  But when you put what turns out to be a rather silken textured sauce in your mouth, you find that it sings with the concentrated flavors of sweet ripe bell peppers and tangy summer tomatoes.   Furthermore, it has a pleasant but unobtrusive kick from a generous pinch of hot pepper flakes...as well as a few nice aromatic exclamation points from a handful of shards of sweet basil.  It is anything but boring...  The few ingredients surprise with their collective intensity of flavor.

I ran across the recipe for this pasta in one of my favorite pasta cookbooks—Four Seasons Pasta by Janet Fletcher.  There are a lot of pictures in this book, but not one for this recipe.  If there had been a picture, it is likely I would have passed it by.  But since I was scanning titles and ingredient lists (rather than browsing pictures) looking for a late summer recipe, I noticed this one.  I love the red and yellow bell peppers of late summer (the hot house ones available all year pale in comparison).  When I stopped to read the recipe, I was intrigued by its simplicity.  And because it really is different than the chunky, vegetable "sauces" that I gravitate towards this time of year, I decided to give it a try.  I was not disappointed. 

I have altered the original recipe in one respect:  I roasted the pepper instead of chopping it up and adding it raw with the tomatoes.  I did this first and foremost because the final sauce is puréed, but not strained.  I didn't really want bits of tough pepper skins floating around in my otherwise smooth sauce.  Roasting the pepper has the added advantage of concentrating the sweet pepper flavor.  Furthermore, puréed roasted peppers create a velvety smooth sauce.  There really isn't a downside to this change...unless you object to turning on your broiler (or grill).  To this I would say that you can roast the pepper ahead...when you already have your oven or your grill turned on for something else.  Or, if you really object, you could simply follow the original recipe:  Core and seed the pepper and cut it into a quarter-inch dice.  Add it to the pan with the tomatoes.  Cover and simmer until the peppers are tender...about 15 minutes...and purée as directed. 

This simple sauce is delicious on pasta, but I have already been thinking about other ways to use it.  I think it would be wonderful with fish (something hearty like swordfish...or tuna...).  And its simplicity makes it perfect for pooling on a plate and topping with some freshly cooked gnocchi (tossed with a little olive oil or butter) and some shaved Parmesan. 

Pepper and tomato season will easily extend through the end of September...so I plan on making this sauce a few more times before the season is through.  And since I'm certain this sauce will freeze well, I'll probably make an extra batch or two for the freezer.  I think its bright summery presence on the dinner table will be the perfect antidote to a gray and blustery autumn or winter day.

Pasta with a Creamy Yellow Bell Pepper & Tomato Sauce

(Penne Saporite "Il Frantoio")

1/3 c. olive oil, plus more for roasting the peppers

1 large yellow or orange bell pepper (about 8 to 9 oz.)

1 small red onion (about 6 oz.), finely diced

2 large cloves of garlic, peeled and minced

A generous pinch hot pepper flakes (to taste)

1 lb. vine ripened or plum tomatoes

Salt & freshly ground pepper

1 lb. penne rigate or fusilli

12 fresh basil leaves, torn into small pieces

1/3 c. (1 oz.) finely grated pecorino, plus more for passing at the table

Preheat the broiler.  Rub the pepper with a bit of olive oil, place on a small baking sheet or the broiler pan and broil until the skins have blackened and begun to split—2 to 4 minutes on each side.  Cool.  Peel and seed the pepper over a sieve set over a small bowl to catch the flavorful juices.  Cut into an even dice and add to the juices.  Set aside.

While the pepper roasts, heat 1/3 cup of olive oil in a large skillet over moderately low heat.  Add the onion along with a pinch of salt and sweat until very soft, about 10 to 15 minutes. Add the garlic and hot pepper flakes and cook briefly until the garlic is fragrant.

While the onion cooks, prepare the tomatoes.  Core the tomatoes.  If using plum tomatoes, halve them lengthwise.  If using vine ripes, halve them horizontally (through their equator).  Scoop out the seeds into a sieve set over a small bowl (to conserve the juices).  Discard the seeds.  Using a large-holed grater set on a plate or pie pan, grate the tomatoes by holding the cut side of the tomatoes against the grater and grating until just the skin remains in your palm.  Add the grated tomato pulp to the tomato juices. 

When the onions and garlic are ready, add the tomato pulp—along with a few good pinches of salt—and simmer gently until the sauce has thickened slightly (about 10 to 15 minutes). 

Add the peppers, cover and simmer gently to blend the flavors and finish softening the peppers—about 5 to 10 minutes more—and adding a splash of water if the sauce seems dry or tight.

  

Transfer the contents of the pan to the blender cup (either a traditional blender or an immersion blender) and purée until smooth, adding water in small increments if the sauce is too thick to move well in the blender (see note).  

Scrape the sauce back into the sauté pan and taste for salt & pepper.  Keep warm while you cook the pasta. 

Bring a large pot of well-salted water to a boil over high heat.  Add the pasta and cook until al dente.  Set aside 1 cup of the pasta water, then drain the pasta.  Add the pasta to the sauce and toss to coat—adding enough pasta water to create a fluid sauce that coats and clings to the noodles.  Add the basil and the cheese and toss to combine.  Add more pasta water if needed.   Serve immediately, passing cheese separately. 

Serves 4 to 6.

Notes:  

• I prefer to wait to purée the sauce until I'm cooking the pasta so I can use pasta water to thin the sauce in the blender (if necessary).
• This may seem like a very small amount of sauce...but it is really just perfect.  Pasta should be sauced so that there isn't a pool of sauce left on the plate when you are finished...rather, you should finish the last bite of pasta with the last bit of sauce.  That said, if you like more sauce, simply increase the recipe so that the pasta is sauced to your liking.

(Recipe adapted from Four Seasons Pasta—A Year of Inspired Recipes in the Italian Tradition, by Janet Fletcher)

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