Fettuccine with Leeks, Walnuts & Cream

I love pasta “sauces” that showcase one main vegetable. A quick scan of pastas I’ve posted over the years will bear this out:  peppers, broccoli, mushrooms, zucchini, cauliflower, Brussels sprouts, corn, peas, winter squash, Swiss chard, tomatoes … although… maybe tomatoes don’t count….   Anyway, I obviously can’t get enough of these kinds of pastas.  They are a great way for someone in a small household to use up vegetables…or for the cook in any sized household to take advantage of seasonal abundance.  They are also usually fairly straightforward in their preparation…which means they can make for a quick dinner.  Furthermore, from a cook’s perspective they are instructive in that you can learn what spices, herbs, etc set off that one vegetable to advantage—making these pastas a great way to get to really know a vegetable and at the same time train your palate.    

Recently I was reminded of a “single ingredient” pasta I hadn’t made in a while when I found myself with several leeks in my pantry that had been intended for an event that ultimately didn’t happen.  (A lot of my eating this past year had been dictated by having to find ways to use ingredients that were purchased for an event that was canceled due to the pandemic.)  I could have used the leeks for an overdue “leek weekend” (à la French Women Don’t Get Fat)…but I didn’t really have enough for a whole weekend of dining (or to be more precise, not dining….). So I settled on other uses:  in a tart…a soup…and a pasta.  I was able to spread my leek fest out since they—like most winter vegetables—store pretty well.

The pasta I made is from a book by Janet Fletcher called Four Seasons Pasta.  If you have never run across this book…and you love pasta…you should check it out.  The book is organized by the seasons and is filled with recipes featuring authentic Italian sauces that aren’t necessarily familiar to American audiences.  The recipes work well…and are delicious.  And if you are interested in learning how to make your own pasta, there’s a good section on that too.

To make the leek sauce, leeks are softened in butter…reduced with a bit of cream…and finished with minced toasted walnuts and parsley.  Like other members of the onion family, leeks become sweet with prolonged cooking.  This cooking also gives them a silky texture.  The cream enhances both the sweetness and silkiness.  The slightly bitter toasted walnuts provide a nice flavor counterpoint and interesting texture.  Once the leeks are cleaned (the most difficult part of the recipe) the sauce comes together quickly and easily, making this a simple, elegant…and slightly different…winter weeknight meal. 

 Fettuccine with Leeks, Walnuts & Cream 

4 T. unsalted butter
5 or 6 leeks—white and pale green parts only—halved lengthwise, sliced thinly crosswise and well rinsed (5 to 6 cups sliced leeks)
Salt & Pepper, to taste
3/4 c. chicken stock
1 c. heavy cream
1 lb. fettuccine
2 T. minced flat leaf parsley
1/2 c. walnuts, plus more for garnish—toasted and chopped medium fine

Melt the butter in a large sauté pan over medium low heat.  Add the leeks and season lightly with salt.  Stir to coat with the butter.  Cover and cook gently until the leeks are tender, about 15 to 20 minutes—reducing the heat if necessary.  There should be a few tablespoons of flavorful liquid in the pan when they are done.  Add the stock and cream to the leeks and bring to a simmer.  Cook briefly, until the sauce is just slightly thickened.  Remove from the heat and keep warm.

While the leeks cook, bring 6 quarts of water to the boil in a large stock/pasta pot.  Add 2-3 Tablespoons of salt.  Add the pasta and cook until al dente.  Drain, reserving some of the pasta cooking liquid.

Add the parsley, walnuts and a generous amount of pepper to the leeks.  Add the pasta and toss to coat—adding some of the reserved pasta water if it seems dry.  Taste and correct the seasoning.  Serve, garnished with more walnuts if desired.  Serves 4 to 6.

Variations:

• Add a clove or two of minced garlic and/or some minced fresh thyme to the leeks while they cook.
• Stir in a few tablespoons of mascarpone to the finished sauce.
• Garnish the pasta with crumbled goat cheese or blue cheese.

(Recipe from Four Seasons Pasta, by Janet Fletcher)

Printable Version

Corn, Kohlrabi & Pancetta Sauté

One morning last week I received a message from an old friend of my family’s.  Her husband had been trout fishing over the weekend and they had a lot of fresh trout.  She offered me some.  I had plans for the day…and meeting her would require driving a bit…but fresh trout!  My plans could be changed.

As I thought about cooking it I mentally ran through the list of vegetables in my pantry.  I always lean toward the classics, but classic trout preparations focus more on the preparation of the fish…not on the vegetables.  Usually the trout is quickly sautéed—just long enough to crisp the skin—then finished with salty and tangy/mildly acidic ingredients: browned butter with almonds…lemon and capers…bacon/pancetta, garlic and toasted breadcrumbs…and always including aromatic parsley.  Since the fish itself is pretty mild, I focused on the flavors at play in these traditional accompaniments as I considered my vegetables.

I like corn with fish of all kinds and I had recently purchased some of my first ears of the summer, so I thought I would start there.  The combo of pancetta, garlic and parsley from Madeleine Kamman’s trout dish from the Aveyron had initially appealed to me…and I knew these ingredients would go well with the corn.  

Pancetta, garlic and parsley also made me think of a kohlrabi-sauced pasta I had made for dinner a few days prior.  The kohlrabi in this dish is diced small—about the size of a kernel of corn.  And corn and kohlrabi are delicious together. Suddenly there it was…a simple sauté of corn, kohlrabi and pancetta (with garlic, spring onions and parsley).  I knew it would be delicious.

The corn I used in my dish had already been roasted.  I have been in the habit for several years now of keeping a container of roasted corn in the fridge all through summer corn season.  Having it on hand makes it easy to quickly prepare the roasted corn salads I love (with tomatoes…avocado…summer squash…shell beans and roasted peppers…).  But if you don’t have any roasted corn on hand…and you don’t feel like heating up your kitchen just to roast an ear of corn, you could just add the corn to the sauté in its raw state.  Add it with the spring onions. 

I have written the recipe as I made it:  for one person.  But it is easily multiplied for as many as you will be serving.   Simply choose a sauté pan that is just large enough to hold all the vegetables in a snug single layer. 

My trout dish really was delicious.  But you don’t have to have trout to make this corn and kohlrabi sauté.  A few days after I made it with the trout, I prepared it again (so I could write down the recipe), but I used halibut instead of trout.  I think any kind of mild fish would be great.  Simply sauté the fish and finish it with a generous squeeze of lemon after you remove it from the pan.  And even though I conceived of the recipe as an accompaniment to fish, if you don’t like fish I’m sure it would make a fine accompaniment for a pork chop…or even a pan seared chicken breast.  And if you have never tasted kohlrabi, this dish would be a great way to try it out.

  

Corn, Kohlrabi, & Pancetta Sauté

For each serving you will need:

1 t. butter

1/2 oz. pancetta, minced or diced

1 small kohlrabi, peeled and cut in a 1/4-inch dice—you’ll have about 1/2 cup or 2 oz.

Olive oil

1 small spring onion (or scallion), white and equal quantity of green, thinly sliced

1 clove green garlic (or a small clove regular garlic), minced

1/3 to 1/2 cup roasted corn kernels (about 2 oz.)—see notes

2 to 3 t. minced flat leaf parsley

Choose a sauté pan that is large enough to hold the corn and kohlrabi in a snug single layer.  Place the pan over moderate heat and add half of the butter.  When the butter has melted, add the pancetta.  When it has rendered and begun to turn golden (2 to 3 minutes), transfer it to a plate using a slotted spoon.   The pancetta should still be slightly soft and chewy (not crisp).

If the pan seems dry (there should be enough fat in the pan to coat the kohlrabi), add a little olive oil.  Add the kohlrabi to the pan along with a pinch of salt.  Let the kohlrabi sizzle gently, stirring occasionally, until it is mostly tender—perhaps five minutes or so.  Add the remaining butter along with the onions and garlic.  

Cook until the onions are beginning to soften and everything is fragrant—about 2 minutes.  If at this point the kohlrabi isn’t tender enough for your liking, add a splash of water and simmer gently until it is, replenishing the water as necessary.  You should not need to cook it too much longer.  When the kohlrabi is tender, allow the water to reduce/evaporate until the kohlrabi is once again gently sizzling in the fat.  Add the corn along with the cooked pancetta and heat through.  Toss in the parsley.  Taste and correct the seasoning with salt and freshly ground pepper.  Serve hot.

Notes: 

• To roast corn, preheat the oven to 375° (or thereabout). Place the corn, in the husk, directly on the oven rack and bake for 20 minutes. Remove the corn from the oven. As soon as you are able to handle the corn, peel the husks and silks back so that the corn won't continue to cook. Cut the corn kernels away from the cob and enjoy...or use in a recipe. A typical ear of Midwestern summer corn yields about a cup of kernels.
• If you don't have roasted corn on hand (I keep it on hand during the summer for salads, pilafs, etc.) and don't want to turn your oven on I'm sure you could use fresh corn kernels in this recipe. Add with the spring onions. You may need to add a bit more butter or olive oil to the pan.

Printable Version

Harissa Spiced Lamb Chops with Carrots, Dates, Feta & Fresh Herbs

I have been a bit behind lately in coming up with ideas…and consequently syllabi…for my cooking classes.  Recently I scheduled a wine pairing class with nothing but a title (A Late Winter Menu with Wine).  It was gratifying that the class filled anyway.  Unfortunately this allowed me to push coming up with a menu until the last minute.  Testing recipes at the last minute was a little stressful—but a good thing for the class because I taught from a perspective of fresh inspiration.  Several regulars commented afterwards that they thought the menu was exceptional.   

I decided to prepare lamb for the main course.  I found my inspiration in Diana Henry’s delightful cookbook Simple: Effortless Food, Big Flavors.  I picked this book up a couple of years ago and have not really had the time to spend in it that I would like.  I remember making a delicious baked pasta with chestnuts and cream when I was looking for some fresh ideas for chestnuts…but that’s about it.  While preparing for this class I spent a little bit more time in my perusal…and will definitely be returning to the book.  “Effortless Food, Big Flavors,” is a truly appropriate title. 

It was the bold flavors of this Mediterranean-style lamb dish that attracted me:  Spicy lamb…  tangy yogurt…  salty Feta… soft, sweet dates… and loads of fresh herbs.  Basically a flavor party on a plate.   I used all of these great contrasting flavors in the dish I ultimately taught…with a few touches of my own. 

The first thing that struck me as I considered the original recipe was that Harissa would have been a perfect condiment.  I didn’t have any Harissa on hand…and because I was in a bit of a rush I didn’t want to make any.  Instead, I augmented Henry’s cumin and cayenne spice rub with coriander, caraway and paprika (basically making my own harissa spice blend).

I also decided to add a few carrots, roasted with this spice mix, to the plate.  I always want more vegetables.  As a bonus, the carrots add great color—and they are delicious with dates. 

I served it all with a simple farro pilaf. Call me old-fashioned, but I always like to include a starch of some kind with an entrée.  Henry suggests olive oil roasted potatoes, bulgur, or couscous as go-withs.  And I think any of these would be good…but I was particularly pleased with how the farro added a subtle nutty and sweet earthiness to the whole dish.  I will probably always serve it with the farro.

As an aside, the farro recipe I made yields a bit more than you will probably need to go with the lamb.  But this is not a bad thing.  I always love having extra cooked grains on hand since I then have an excellent foundation for a quick lunch.  While testing the recipes for this class I used it for just that, topping the leftover farro with a poached egg and some Harissa roasted Brussels sprouts and carrots (an excellent combination).

Since we are heading into spring…and my class menu was planted firmly in  winter in terms of ingredients…I will probably wait until next fall or winter to post the appetizer and salad (both of which were delicious).  The dessert doesn't really need its own post (at least not for the near future (it was the banana cake from my last post...baked in layers, filled with salted butter caramel, frosted with white chocolate cream cheese frosting and garnished with candied pecans).   But I wanted to go ahead and post the lamb entrée now.  Doing so allows me to present it with the fresh enthusiasm that was, I think, so appealing in the class.  Plus, I tend to eat lamb more during the spring and summer months, and I think this particular dish would be wonderful during the early part of the growing season when young carrots and soft, fresh herbs are available.  When the weather warms up, this lamb will be fantastic prepared on the grill.

Harissa Spiced Lamb Chops with Carrots, Dates, Feta & Fresh Herbs

4 lamb loin chops (see notes)

salt

2 T. Olive oil

2 t. freshly squeezed lemon juice

2 cloves of garlic, peeled and lightly crushed

2 t. Harissa spice (see below)

1 lb. carrots, trimmed and peeled

2 T. olive oil

2 t. Harissa spice (see below)

1/2 c. (125 g.) Greek Yogurt, preferably full fat (5%)—see notes

1 T. freshly squeezed lemon juice (more or less, to taste)

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

4 t. olive oil

3 to 4 t. water                                                                                         

salt

3 to 4 oz. Feta in brine, drained and broken into small and medium chunks

6 to 8 Medjool dates, pitted and cut into 6 strips each

1/2 c. of very coarsely chopped fresh herbs—a mix of Italian Parsley, Mint, and Dill (if the leaves are small, you may leave them whole)

1 T. finely sliced chives

If possible, salt the lamb 12 to 24 hours ahead.  Up to two hours before cooking, combine the olive oil, lemon juice, garlic and harissa in a shallow dish.  Add the lamb, turning the chops to coat with the marinade.  If cooking within half an hour, leave at room temperature.  Otherwise refrigerate until a half hour prior to cooking.

Cut the carrots on the bias in 1/3-inch thick slices.  Cut these slices lengthwise into two or three strips (approx. 1/3-inch wide).  The carrots should look like quills (or penne pasta).  Toss with olive oil and the harissa spice mix.  Spread on a rimmed sheet pan and roast in a 400° oven until tender and nicely caramelized—about 25 minutes. (If serving with farro, it works well to add the water to the farro when the carrots go into the oven).

While the carrots roast, make the sauce:  In a small bowl, whisk together the yogurt, lemon juice, garlic, olive oil, water and a good pinch of salt.  The consistency should be like regular plain yogurt—add more water or olive oil if it is too thick.  Taste and correct the acidity with lemon (the sauce should be very tangy).  Check the seasoning and correct as necessary. (The sauce may be made ahead.)

When the carrots are almost done, heat a cast iron skillet over high heat.  When the pan is hot, add the lamb chops (there should be enough oil on the chops…but if the pan seems dry, add a bit of oil).  Allow the chops to cook until they are nicely caramelized on the first side before turning them over (2 or 3 minutes).  Cook in a similar fashion on the second side, regulating the heat to prevent scorching.  When the chops are well browned, tip them on their sides to quickly sear (on all sides).  Check the temperature of the lamb so you’ll have an idea of how close it is to your preferred doneness (see temperature guide in the notes below).  If necessary, transfer the pan to the oven to continue cooking until they are the way you like them.  For small chops, even if you like them well done, this won’t be much longer than 7 or 8 minutes.  If you like your lamb rare, you may not need to put them in the oven at all. 

To serve, place a spoonful of sauce on one side of each plate, spreading it out into an arc.  Place a small mound of farro next to it (on the other side of the plate)…or a mound of couscous, or roasted potatoes, etc.  Scatter half of the carrots, dates and herbs over the sauce.  Place the chop on top (leaning against the farro), followed by the remaining carrots and dates.  Scatter the Feta and the remaining herbs over all.  Drizzle with olive oil if you like.  Serves 4

(Recipe inspired by a recipe in Simple by Diana Henry)

Notes:

• I have written the recipe assuming one loin chop per person. Many would consider this to be a very small portion. Recipes frequently give quantities assuming 2 per person. In my experience loin chops weigh about 4 to 5 oz. You should prepare as many as you like. Simply adjust the quantity of marinade to cover the number of chops you will be preparing.
• You may use lamb rib chops (cut from the rack) in place of the loin chops. As with the loin chops, you should prepare as many as you like, depending on appetites. When I use rib chops I think 2 is a nice portion. But as for the loin chops, many people would prefer 3 or 4.
• I have made this recipe using both commercial Greek yogurt and my own homemade Labneh. Since my homemade yogurt is quite tangy, it didn’t require near as much lemon juice. You should add lemon juice to taste, remembering that the sauce needs to be very tangy.
• Lamb temperature guide (remember that the temperature will continue to go up a few degrees after the lamb is out of the oven/pan): Rare—120°F; Medium Rare—125°F; Medium—130°F; Medium Well—135°F; Well Done—140°F.
• Substitute a few halved Brussels sprouts for some of the carrots.

Farro Pilaf

2 T. olive oil, plus more for drizzling

2 medium shallots, peeled and finely diced

salt

1 c. pearled farro, rinsed

1 T. picked thyme, roughly chopped

2 1/2 c. water

Warm the olive oil in a medium sauce pan set over moderate heat.  Add the shallot along with a pinch of salt.  Sweat until the shallot is tender—about 5 minutes.  Add the farro and thyme and continue to cook and stir until the farro is well-coated in the fat, lightly toasted and hot through—about 3 minutes.

Add the water, along with some salt, and bring to a boil. Reduce the heat, cover and cook until the farro is tender but still has texture (al dente)—about 25 minutes. Let the farro rest, covered, off of the heat for a few minutes.  Drain and return to the pan to keep warm.  To serve, taste and correct the seasoning.   Drizzle with a bit of olive oil (for flavor and moisture) if you like. Serves 4 generously (I always have some left over—which I love having to make a grain bowl or a salad for lunch).

Harissa Spice

4 t. cumin seed

2 t. coriander seed

2 t. caraway seed

1 t. cayenne

4 t. paprika

Pound the cumin, coriander and caraway until fine using a mortar & pestle—or grind in a spice grinder.  Add the cayenne and paprika.  Recipe makes a generous quarter cup of blended spice.

Notes:

• If you prefer, you may substitute pre-ground cumin, coriander and caraway, but the flavor will not be as vibrant.
• Harissa should have some heat. I find this mix to be sufficiently spicy, but if you like a lot of heat, feel free to increase the cayenne. Conversely, if this is too hot for you, simply decrease the cayenne.

Printable Version

Anne Rosenzweig’s “Best Brussels Sprouts”

In all the years I have been keeping a blog, I don’t think I have ever gone a full calendar month without at least one post.  Last year—for a lot of reasons—I didn’t post often, but I managed at least once a month.  This year I promised myself (which is as close as I ever get to a NY resolution) that I would post more often…and try to gradually return to a rate of about four a month.  Well…today is February 1…and my last post was on December 31.  All of January just slipped by.  I mention this only because I want to put it out there that in spite of how it might appear, I am not bringing For Love of the Table to an end.  At least not for now.  I will attempt to return to more frequent posting, but I don’t ever want to get to the place that I post something that I consider substandard just to get a post up.  I will continue to aim for a more frequent and regular schedule….but unfortunately may not succeed for a while.  The good news is that I’m still at it…just in a more sporadic way for the time being. 

As for today’s post, it is a bit unusual.  For the most part the recipes that I share are either my own or recipes from another chef or cook that I have tweaked in some way—great or small—to suit my tastes…or my pantry…or my idea of how it really should have been done in the first place.  I have never taken an inventory of recipes that I have shared without any changes, but there aren’t very many.  Today’s recipe is one of the few that I am posting with no changes.  It just didn’t need any….

In fact, the recipe’s creator—Chef Anne Rosenzweig—dubbed them “the best Brussels sprouts.”  I don’t know if I would go that far (there are a lot of really delicious ways to prepare Brussels sprouts!), but they are indeed very, very good. 

Before I share the specifics of what it was about the recipe that appealed to me, I wanted to mention that I was drawn to the recipe because of the source.  It is unfortunate that many of today’s cooks and chefs have never heard of Anne Rosenzweig.  She is an important figure in the recent history of American food and cooking.  When I was just starting out in restaurant work, women who had succeeded in that male dominated world were few and far between.  As I sit here typing and try to come up with a list of women chefs with national reputations who were role models for young women chefs and cooks during the late eighties and early nineties I can only think of a few:  Alice Waters, Nancy Silverton…and Anne Rosenzweig.  (I’m sure there were others…but a quick brainstorm only produces those three…).  Waters and Silverton are still active and well known.  But Rosenzweig—who was the chef at the helm of Arcadia in New York for many years—seems to have slipped out of view.  Last year when I ran across this Brussels sprouts recipe from Arcadia, I wondered about what had happened to her….so I Googled her.  I found a wonderful recent article detailing her career…and where she is now.  It is well worth reading.

In terms of the recipe, many things about it were appealing.  First and foremost, it includes two of my favorite food partners for Brussels sprouts—bacon…and carrots.  The bacon is an obvious and traditional companion.  All the brassicas (cabbage, kale, cauliflower, kohlrabi, broccoli…to name a few) are enhanced by the addition of salty and fatty cured pork products.  The carrots aren’t so obvious...but I know from experience that their natural sweetness make them a perfect foil for the slightly bitter Brussels sprout.  I have posted several recipes—a couple of pastas and a side dish—that feature these combinations if you would like to sample it in other ways. 

The other thing about this recipe that is particularly appealing is how easy it is to prepare.  None of the ingredients have to be pre-cooked (no toasting nuts…or blanching the Brussels sprouts…).   Simply render the bacon...then add the pine nuts and allow them to toast in the bacon fat while the bacon finishes crisping.  

Then add the garlic and carrots and cook briefly to release the fragrance of the garlic.  

Then add slender wedges of Brussels sprouts 

along with a splash of water, cover the pan and cook until the sprouts are tender—which typically takes about 5 minutes.  The whole process from start to finish only takes about 15 minutes…and only requires one pan. 

It would be enough if the dish were just delicious.  But it is attractive too.  The tiny cubes of carrot are elegant.  And because the sprouts aren’t subjected to the heat long enough to lose their fresh color, the dish is a lovely green.  To me this is a lot of return for a small amount of effort.  (And if you are put off by the tiny dice required for the carrots

—it has to be this way so they will cook quickly—think of it as a wonderful opportunity to practice your knife skills!)

These sprouts of course make a great side dish, but they are not limited to that.  Recently I made them for my lunch and topped them with a poached egg (a fried egg would work too). And even though this did require another pan, I have to say it was worth it.  I highly recommend it.

Brussels Sprouts with Bacon, Pine Nuts & Carrots

3 slices bacon, cut cross-wise in 1/4-inch strips

Olive oil—as needed

1/4 c. pine nuts

2 to 3 cloves garlic, minced (2 teaspoons)

1/2 c. very finely diced carrot (you will need 4 oz. whole carrots)

1 1/4 lb. Brussels Sprouts (4 cups), trimmed, halved and each half cut into quarters

Water

Salt & freshly ground pepper

2 T. minced flat leaf parsley

Render the bacon in a large sauté pan set over moderately low heat.  When the fat is rendered, increase the heat to medium and add the pine nuts.  Cook, stirring constantly until the bacon is crisp and the pine nuts are golden brown in spots—this will only take a minute or so.  Watch carefully to avoid burning the bacon and pine nuts.  If the bacon was very lean, you may need to add a bit of olive oil. 

When the bacon is crisp and the pine nuts are golden, add the garlic and carrots and cook (stirring constantly) until the garlic releases its fragrance (less than a minute).  Add the sprouts, along with a good pinch of salt, and toss to coat in the fat.  Add a 3 or 4 tablespoons of water.  Cover and cook, shaking the pan occasionally, until the sprouts are cooked to your liking.  Depending on the size and age of the sprouts, they will take anywhere from 2 to 7 minutes.  Check occasionally to make sure they haven’t boiled dry.  If necessary, add more water (but just enough to create some steam).  When the sprouts are tender, uncover and continue to cook until any remaining water has evaporated.  Fold in the parsley.  Taste and correct the seasoning with salt (if necessary) and pepper.  If you like, add a drizzle of olive oil (if the bacon was very fatty, this won’t be necessary).   Serve warm.  Serves 3 to 4

Note:  You can make this recipe in just about any quantity (just a portion…or multiple…of the original).  Simply choose a pan that will hold all of the Brussels sprouts so they are not piled too deeply in the pan. 

(Recipe from A Well-Seasoned Appetite, by Molly O’Neill.  The original dish was served at Arcadia in Manhattan for many years.)

 

Printable Version

Celery Root & Wild Rice Chowder

For the past two or three years I have been teaching a series of classes called “Inspired Cooking by the Book.”  The idea of the series is to teach recipes culled from the cookbooks that tend to get the most use in my cookbook library: those that have been written by chefs or seasoned cooks and that are either organized by the season…or by ingredient.  

 

As regular readers know, I really do cook and eat seasonally.  No matter what the season, I shop for food in a produce-centric way, choosing what looks good at the moment (whether at the farmers’ market or grocery store) and then supplementing with meat, fish, eggs, cheese, grains/pastas/legumes, etc.  When I’m faced with the inevitable “what are we going to have for dinner?” question—and I come up blank—these kinds of cookbooks provide the perfect inspiration for cooking with what I already have in my fridge and pantry.

 

Sometimes I don’t change the original recipes at all for these classes.  And in some cases the original recipe is really nothing more than a spring board.  The title…or picture…or list of ingredients…appealed to me, but the actual recipe wasn’t what I wanted or expected, so I just create my own recipe using the things that inspired me about the original recipe.  In either case, the resulting recipes make for interesting classes of seasonal foods that provide some insight into the daily home cooking habits of a professional chef.  The classes have been immensely popular and I am currently in the middle of round 2 of the series.

 

In the winter installment of the series this second time around I included a recipe from Deborah Madison’s Local Flavors for Celery Root & Wild Rice Chowder.  I was attracted to the combination of celery root and wild rice (a fantastic, earthy, pairing).  And I was intrigued by the fact that she called this a “chowder.”  The origin of the term chowder is open to debate (generally thought to have something to do with the name of a cooking vessel), but with few exceptions, it refers to hearty seafood and/or fish soups.  The fact that these soups almost always include chunks of potato…and cream or milk (in which case they are generally thickened with a roux)…has led to a few variations that don’t contain seafood.  Corn chowder and potato chowder come to mind.

This soup does indeed include chunks of potato and heavy cream.  And it has the rustic feel that I associate with a chowder.  If I hadn’t known the name, but had been served a steaming bowl of this soup—with wild rice and little chunks of celery root and potatoes suspended in a rich, creamy base—I think I would have dubbed it a chowder, too.

I changed the chowder very little from Madison’s original (it definitely still qualifies as a chowder!).  I increased the quantity of broth, potatoes and wild rice a bit…and elected to stir the rice in (rather than placing a mound in the center of each bowl).  It is delicious…and it keeps well (reheating beautifully without becoming overly thick and stodgy).  And as one would expect from a chowder, I have found it to be especially satisfying during our recent spate of cold and unusually stormy weather.  

Celery Root & Wild Rice Chowder

4 oz. (2/3 c.) wild rice

1 qt. chicken stock

Salt & Pepper to taste

3 T. butter, divided

1 stalk celery, cut in 1/8th-inch dice (about 1/3 c.)

2 large leeks, white & pale green parts only, cut in 1/4-inch dice and thoroughly rinsed (2 cups)

1 large or 2 medium cloves garlic, minced

2 or 3 well-branched sprigs of thyme

2 or 3 parsley stems

1 large celery root (1 to 1 1/4 lb.), peeled and cut in 1/4-inch dice (3 to 3 2/3 cups)

1 Yukon potato (about 8 oz.), peeled and cut in 1/4-inch dice

1/2 c. heavy cream

1 T. freshly squeezed lemon juice, if needed

Finely sliced flat leaf parsley

Olive oil for garnish

If time, soak the rice (see note):  In a medium bowl, pour boiling water over the wild rice. Allow the rice to soak for one hour, then drain.  Place the rice (drained or raw) and the stock in a large saucepan and bring to a simmer. Simmer until the rice is just tender—about 30 to 40 minutes. Strain, reserving the stock and the rice separately.  Measure the stock and add water to make 4 cups.

Melt 2 T. of the butter in a large saucepan set over medium heat, sweat the celery and leeks until beginning to soften—about 5 minutes.  While the celery and leeks cook, tie the herb stems securely together with a piece of cotton kitchen twine (see note).  When the leeks and celery are ready, add the remaining tablespoon of butter.  When the butter has melted, add the celery root and herb bundle along with a good pinch of salt.  Cook until the celery root is beginning to soften on the surface and all the vegetables are sizzling gently—about 5 minutes. 

Add the reserved stock and potatoes.  Bring to a boil.  Reduce the heat to a simmer and season to taste with salt.  Simmer gently until all of the vegetables are tender—about 20 minutes.

Using a slotted spoon, transfer a cup of the vegetables to the cup of a blender or immersion blender.  Add enough of the cooking liquid to cover the vegetables and purée until smooth.  Scrape the purée back into the soup pot.  Add the heavy cream.  If the soup is too thin, purée some more of the vegetables.  If it is too thick, add some water or stock or milk.   Taste and correct the seasoning with salt and pepper.  If the soup is well-seasoned but still tastes bland, add a squeeze of lemon to lift the flavors.

Add the rice, bring to a simmer and serve garnished with a drizzle of olive oil and a sprinkle of parsley.

Makes a generous 1 1/2 quarts soup—serves 4 to 6.

(Adapted from Local Flavors by Deborah Madison)

Notes:

• Soaking the rice will cut down on the cooking time only slightly. The main reason to do it is that it helps the rice absorb water more evenly as it cooks.
• If you don’t have any kitchen twine, you can of course just throw the herb sprigs/stems into the soup. Just remember to count them so you will know how many to fish out of the soup before you serve it.
• Because this is chowder—and I associate bacon with clam, potato and corn chowders—I think bacon would be a delicious addition. Cut 2 slices (about 2 oz.) of bacon into 1/2-inch squares. In the soup pot, render until just beginning to crisp. Add enough butter to make 2 T. Add the celery and leek and proceed with the recipe.
• Deborah Madison suggests drizzling a bit of truffle oil over the soup. If you happen to have some on hand, it would be delicious in place of the olive oil. I think a nut oil—particularly walnut or hazelnut oil—would also be good.

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