Roasted Potatoes & Carrots with Glazed Pearl Onions & Olives

The recipe I’m sharing today came about on Christmas day after a holiday season of scrambling to work as much as possible—and consequently spreading myself too thin—in order to prepare for the looming slower than usual January.  More tired than I have been in past years after a normal food-service industry pedal to the metal holiday pace (due to the stress of the past year, I assume), I hadn’t even bothered to shop for Christmas dinner.  I had meat options in my freezer…and an assortment of orphan vegetables (left from various private events) in my pantry and fridge.  I figured I could come up with something.  After all, I was only serving two.

As often happens at moments like this, the meal turned out to be exceptionally delicious.  I don’t know if it was due to low expectations… or having the freedom to prepare foods that aren’t on the extended family-approved list… or the fact that it was truly a simple meal (small number of ingredients…simply prepared).   It is likely that it was the intersection of all these things. 

In any case, it will live in my memory:  Lamb rack—flavored with salt, pepper & rosemary; haricots verts with hazelnuts, shallots and orange zest; and garlic and thyme roasted carrots and potatoes with pearl onions and black olives.  That’s it.  It had more the character of a fancier than usual week night meal than a holiday meal, but it was perfect for the day.  The lamb and green beans were already a part of my permanent repertoire.  The potatoes and carrots were a gussied up version of a simple dish I have made on and off over the years.  The pearl onions turned out to be the surprise star of the show.  

Glazed pearl onions are a garnish found often in traditional, classic French cooking.  When I was at Le Cordon Bleu, it seemed like they were in everything.  Peeling pearl onions was frequently the first thing you did when you entered your daily practical.  And peeling them is the most difficult part of the preparation.  But it isn’t really difficult…just a bit tedious.  It isn’t an activity that I would choose to do as often as we did it in school, but as I discovered on Christmas day:  it is occasionally worth it (especially if you are only preparing a few). 

To peel pearl onions, start by trimming the ends (getting rid of the roots and the stringy blossom end).  Then, place them in a bowl and cover them with boiling water.  Let them sit a few minutes until the skins begin to soften.  Lift them out of the water and peel away the skins while the onions are still warm.  To do this you will need the help of a paring knife (choke up on the knife and use just the tip).  If some of the outer layer of onion comes off because the skin seems stuck, don’t worry too much.  It is likely this outer layer is tough and dry if the softened skin won’t pull away and in such case it’s best to discard it anyway. 

To cook, place the onions in a saucepan that will just hold them in a snug single layer, cover them with water and add a bit of butter, sugar and salt. 

Bring to a simmer and cook, partially covered until they are almost tender (the tip of a knife will encounter a slight resistance in the center). 

Remove the lid completely, increase the heat to moderately high and boil rapidly until the water has evaporated and the onions are sizzling in the butter/sugar mixture. 

You may stop at this point if you just want a pale glaze…or you may continue to cook (over a slightly reduced heat, swirling the pan regularly and keeping a close eye on them) until the glaze caramelizes and the onions are coated in the golden brown glaze. 

In classic French cooking these onions are often used as a final garnish. They are simply warmed and scattered over the surface of the dish.  One of the most famous uses is in the à la grand-mère (grandmother style) garnish of meat stews: combined with fat chunks of bacon and sautéed mushrooms….a beautiful and delicious touch.

For Christmas dinner I used them as the final addition to a pan of roasted carrots and baby potatoes…along with some salty black olives.  I don’t normally keep pearl onions.  They were part of the odds and ends I had left from my busy season.  As I stood in front of my pantry on Christmas day, it occurred to me that they would add a special touch to our meal.  And they did.  The interplay of savory, salty and sweet lit up the plate.  If you are looking for a simple side that punches lots of flavor buttons to go with a plain cutlet or chop, you could do worse. 

I’m glad I rediscovered glazed pearl onions.  I think when I left school I wasn’t planning to ever cook them again of my own volition.  But revisiting them after all these years has elevated my opinion of them.  I will probably make a point to keep a bag in my pantry during the late fall and winter months from now on.  

Roasted Potatoes & Carrots with Glazed Pearl Onions & Olives

1/2 lb. creamer—or similar small—potatoes (about 8 potatoes), scrubbed
1/2 lb. carrots, peeled and cut into 1-inch chunks using a roll cut (see below)
4 to 5 cloves of garlic
Several sprigs of thyme
Olive oil
5 oz. yellow or white pearl onions, peeled
1 t. butter
1/2 t. sugar
10 to 12 pitted Kalamata olives, halved
1 T. minced flat leaf parsley
A squeeze of lemon, optional (see note)

Preheat the oven to 375°.  Combine the potatoes, carrots, garlic and thyme in a roasting pan large enough to hold the vegetables in a snug single layer.  Drizzle liberally with olive oil and season generously with salt and pepper. 

Cover the pan with foil transfer to the oven.  Remove the foil after 25 minutes.  Continue to roast until the vegetables are tender and beginning to caramelize—another 15 to 20 minutes. 

While the vegetables roast, prepare the glazed pearl onions.  Place the onions in a small saucepan just large enough to hold them in a snug single layer.  Add water to cover.  Add the butter sugar and a pinch of salt and bring to a simmer.  Cover and cook until almost tender.  Uncover and increase the heat to medium-high to high and boil until the liquid is reduced to a glaze; reduce the heat to medium and continue to cook until the glaze turns a golden brown, swirling the pan to coat the onions with the glaze.   Set aside.

When the roasted vegetables are tender, add the pearl onions and olives to the pan.  Return to the oven and roast for another five minutes.  Remove from the oven.  Taste and correct the seasoning with salt, pepper and a squeeze of lemon, if you like.  Fold in the parsley and finish with a drizzle of olive oil.  Serves 2 generously.

Notes:

• To roll cut carrots, place the carrot on the cutting board and cut a 1-inch segment, making the cut on a diagonal. Roll the carrot forward a quarter turn and make the next cut, using the same angle. Continue to roll and cut all the way up the carrot.
• You may or may not need lemon juice. If the carrots and onions are fresh and sweet, you might not. But after tasting the finished vegetables, if they are well seasoned, yet still seem a bit one dimensional or flat tasting, give them a squeeze of lemon to lift and brighten the flavors.
• You may substitute cipollini onions for the pearl onions if you like. 
• The recipe is easily multiplied.  Just choose appropriately sized pans.

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Classic Beef Stew

My first cooking class of 2021 was called Classic Comfort Food.  Even though the phrase "comfort food" is a bit of a cliché, I am unapologetic about the title.  I think it is useful in describing what we all seem to need at the moment.  It is meant to describe food that transports us to tables and moments past when simple, familiar food—prepared by someone who loved us—had the ability to momentarily hold our worries at bay.  I could use some of that right now.  Furthermore, for me, these foods also remind me of people that I love—and meals shared with them.  Since I’m eating all of my meals alone these days, I could use some of that too. 

The beef stew my mother made when I was growing up was delicious.  I was a picky eater…but I loved her stew.  The stew I make today is actually very similar to the one she made.  I have returned it to its French roots (with a bit more attention to technique…and added red wine, bacon and mushrooms), and I have omitted her final addition of peas.  But otherwise, the tender meat, carrots, and potatoes, suspended in a rustic “broth” –lightly thickened by virtue of the flour-dredged beef, the onions that have disintegrated from long cooking, and the starch released from the potatoes—is exactly like hers.  There are no tomatoes…or peppers…or other odd ingredients that I would have resented as a child—just a simple, straight forward, bowl of beefy goodness.  I always think of long ago family meals when I sit down to a bowl of that stew.

If you have never made beef stew, this one is a good place to start.  It gives back loads of flavor for minimal effort...and is a perfect activity for a homebound Saturday or Sunday. As with all braises, it will take the better part of the afternoon to make.   But since most of that time is in the oven with nothing required of you (other than the occasional peek under the lid), it counts as easy in my book.  If you aren’t familiar with the hows, whys and processes of a braise, check out my basics post from a few years ago before getting started.

One important thing to note: when you’re shopping, make sure you purchase beef chuck or boneless short rib meat—not the “stew meat” sold at most butcher counters.  Generic stew meat is usually a mystery conglomeration of beef trim that serves as a way for the butcher to make money from what would otherwise go in the trash.  To prepare a good stew, you need specific tough, sinewy cuts from around the joints and well-used muscles of the animal.  “Stew meat” may or may not contain these cuts. 

Furthermore, the pieces of meat you use for your stew need to be on the large side—certainly larger than the nubbins in the stew meat bin.  Small pieces of meat will disintegrate into the broth.  The large pieces will look more attractive and be easier to serve.  It is an easy thing to just cut up a chuck roast or some boneless beef short ribs yourself when you get home.  Cut the meat into 1 1/2- to 2-inch cubes.  These pieces will seem large…but they will shrink as they cook.  And you needn’t worry that the large pieces will be difficult to eat from a bowl:  when cooked properly, the meat is tender enough to be “cut” into bite-sized pieces with a spoon.   Another bonus in cutting the meat yourself:  you can be as fastidious as you like in removing the fat.  I generally only remove obvious, large knobs since most of the fat will dissolve and add flavor and moisture to the stew.  Any excess can be blotted off or skimmed away from the finished stew. 

I had hoped that this year would be less traumatic than last.  So far the year isn’t very promising.  One of the things I have control over is how I feed myself.  So, I continue to cook….every day.  I highly recommend it.  Occasionally preparing and eating a bowl of stew…or some other delicious and simple food that reminds me of people I wish I could be with and better days…gives me a measure of hope that things will one day be better again. 

Classic French-style Beef Stew

2 1/2 to 3 lbs. boneless beef short ribs or chuck, cut into 1 1/2-inch pieces
Salt & freshly ground pepper
4 oz. thick-sliced bacon, cut crosswise into 1/2-inch strips
1/2 c. all-purpose flour
2 onions, (about 1 lb.) cut in a 1/2-inch dice
2 large cloves garlic, minced
salt and pepper, to taste
3/4 c. dry red wine
3 to 4 c. beef or chicken stock—if using canned, use low-salt
2 or 3 sprigs thyme
1 lb. carrots, peeled and cut crosswise on a 1/2-inch short diagonal
1 lb. Yukon potatoes, peeled and cut into 1-inch chunks
8 oz. mushrooms, cleaned and halved (quartered, if large)
1/4 c. minced flat-leaf parsley

The day before you plan to prepare the stew, season the meat generously with salt.  I use 3/4 t. of kosher salt per pound of meat (so about 2 t.).  Wrap loosely and refrigerate overnight.

To prepare the stew: Render the bacon in a large stew pot or Dutch oven set over medium heat.  When the bacon is crisp, remove it along with the fat, reserving each separately. 

While the bacon cooks, dredge the beef in the flour, shaking off the excess.  

Return enough of the bacon fat to the pan to coat the bottom of the pan and increase the heat to medium-high.  Brown the beef on all sides—it may be necessary to do this in batches so the pan isn’t over-crowded.  

Add more bacon fat as necessary.  Remove all the meat to a platter 

and add more bacon fat or olive oil to the pan.  Add the onions.  Regulate the heat as necessary to sweat the onions just until softened and beginning to take on a golden color (about 5 to 10 minutes).  

Add the garlic and continue to cook for a minute or so.  Add the wine and bring to a boil, scraping the bottom of the pan to release the caramelized meat and vegetable juices.  Reduce the wine by at least half. 

Return the meat to the pan and add enough broth to cover the meat.  

Add the thyme.  Bring to a boil.  Cover and transfer to a preheated 300° oven.  Bake for 2 hours, checking occasionally to make sure the stew is cooking at a bare simmer.  It should not boil hard…but it should maintain an active simmer.  Reduce the oven temperature if necessary.

After 2 hours, remove the stew from the oven.  If there is a lot of grease pooling on the surface, spoon it off, or blot with a paper towel.  

Add the potatoes and carrots, season with salt and pepper, cover and return to the oven until the meat and vegetables are fork tender (about 45 minutes to an hour more).

While the stew finishes cooking, sauté the mushrooms in some of the bacon fat (or olive oil or butter) until nicely browned; Season with salt and pepper and set aside.

When the vegetables are tender, carefully stir in the mushrooms and bacon.  Taste and correct the seasoning.  Remove the thyme sprigs and serve, sprinkled with minced parsley.  Serves 6
 

(Recipe adapted from The Kansas City Star November 11, 1992)

Variation: 

• Classically, this French-style stew would be finished with glazed pearl onions in addition to the mushrooms and bacon.  To prepare the pearl onions, place 8 oz. of peeled pearl onions in a saucepan and cover them with water.  Add 1/2 T. of butter, a teaspoon of sugar and a pinch of salt and bring to a simmer.  Cover and cook until almost tender.  Uncover and increase the heat to high and boil until the liquid is reduced to a glaze; reduce the heat to medium and continue to cook until the glaze turns a golden brown, swirling the pan to coat the onions with the glaze.  Scatter the pearl onions over the stew with the mushrooms and bacon.  Or, for a more classic presentation, reheat the pearl onions, mushrooms and bacon separately and garnish each bowl of stew individually with them.
  
• For a more American-style beef stew, omit the red wine, mushrooms and bacon.  Brown the meat in vegetable oil.  Add a cup of frozen peas to the stew during the last five minutes of cooking.

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Potato Gnocchi

It has been my intention to write a post on how to make potato gnocchi for almost as long as I have been keeping a blog.  I love good potato gnocchi.   In the early years I didn’t write it because I hadn’t perfected my written recipe—or my method of teaching—enough to give me confidence that everyone who used my recipe and method would have good success.  Then, I somehow never managed to get good pictures of the process (I was in a hurry…the room was too dark…etc). I corrected the first problem years ago.  And recently, when I taught an online “cook along” class all about potato gnocchi, the conditions were just right for taking pictures of the process.  So here it is.  Finally.

People have strong opinions about gnocchi….they either love them or hate them.  I suspect this is due to the wide variation in quality.  Potato gnocchi can be utterly delicious: light, tender pillows of potato floating in a flavorful broth, tossed in a rich ragû or tasty pesto, or lightly crisped from a quick sauté and tossed with seasonal vegetables.   They can also be gummy and heavy…true belly bombs.  To make things worse, this latter sort is often served drowning in an overly rich sauce.  I’m not sure why I like them so much, certainly I haven’t had too many good examples when eating out.  The ones I make at home are of the former variety.

The good news is that potato gnocchi are simple to make.  (There’s just no excuse not to make them at home.)  The trick to making gnocchi is a light, restrained touch.  If you add as little flour as is necessary to make a manageable dough and then work the dough as lightly as possible to avoid developing too much gluten (as when making a good pâte brisée), you will have good gnocchi.  If in addition you take the time to make them into petite little pillows—rather than large “two-bite” sized chunks—you will be the road to making excellent potato gnocchi. 

To begin, choose starchy potatoes.  Idaho Russets or Yukon Gold potatoes are perfect.  You will get an even better result if the potatoes are a bit older (since vegetables lose moisture as they sit in storage).  Then, bake the potatoes instead of boiling/simmering them which will introduce water.  (Even steaming will add water.)  

Baked potatoes, split while hot, to get rid of excess moisture via steam.

Baking the potatoes cooks the potatoes thoroughly without adding water. The drier the potato, the less flour you will need to hold the gnocchi together. 

Besides the flour and potato, most gnocchi include some egg.  There are very fine gnocchi makers who insist that egg should not be a part of the mix because it can give a rubbery texture to the gnocchi.  Also, because egg adds moisture, the dough will necessarily require more flour (which as noted above can contribute to heaviness or toughness).  But egg insures that the gnocchi will not disintegrate when they are cooked (since the egg protein sets the gnocchi before the water comes to a simmer).  No one has ever complained that my gnocchi are tough or rubbery.  So I am confident that as long as you are careful to use only as much flour as is necessary to form a cohesive dough—and don’t allow the gnocchi to remain in the simmering water too long (which will harden the egg protein)—you should be able to add egg without lowering the quality of your result. 

The other ingredient of note in my gnocchi recipe is a little bit of butter.  Alice Waters in her book Chez Panisse Vegetables includes a bit of butter in her gnocchi and I have always liked the added flavor and tenderness that results.  But you could easily leave it out if you prefer.

I mentioned above that you should make an effort to form petite gnocchi.  The reason for this is that small gnocchi will cook more rapidly and more uniformly than larger specimens.  Gnocchi that are not cooked through are doughy and heavy.  Because of the egg, gnocchi that are cooked too long can be rubbery.  Considering both these things, large gnocchi have the potential to be rubbery…or doughy…or both (if they are very large).  Making them small is a further guarantee that they will be tender and light.

As for the nuts and bolts process of making the gnocchi, it is very thoroughly detailed in the recipe below.  I will only emphasize a couple of things here.  First, the baked potato pulp needs to be passed through a food mill…or potato ricer…or a mesh sieve/tamis...or the large holes of a box grater—basically anything that will mill the flesh of the potato into a perfectly smooth substance without activating the starch by a vigorous stirring or back and forth motion.  Simply using an old fashioned potato masher is not enough.   

Secondly, the process of working in the flour is best accomplished on a counter top (or other flat work surface) with the aid of a bench scraper.  The cutting motion used will quickly and thoroughly incorporate the flour without developing the starch in the potatoes or too much gluten in the flour.  If you have never worked dough on a counter (rather than a bowl) it might feel a bit awkward, but the bench scraper will not only help cut the flour into the potato-egg mixture, it will also be used to clean the counter as you work.  It is counterintuitive, but dumping all of your ingredients out of the bowl and onto the counter is actually a very efficient and neat way to work.

Finally, the formed gnocchi should look like a little pillow with rounded edges, with ridges on one side and a dimple/divot on the other.  The ridges and dimple are formed simultaneously when you press the cut cylinders of dough against the tines of a fork with your thumb.  Because the finished gnocchi is generally rectangular in shape it seems to make sense to take the cylinder—which is longer than it is wide (like a rectangle)—and lay it across (perpendicular to) the tines of the fork and roll it forward  and off of the fork.  But in my opinion this is incorrect.  I think the cylinder should be placed on the fork upright…with one of the cut ends against the tines of the fork.  

Then using your thumb you press on the other cut surface—down and forward—squashing the cylinder down a bit as you roll it forward off of the fork.  

You will have to keep the fork and your thumb lightly floured because you’re working against the tacky cut surfaces, but when formed this way the gnocchi are plump and rounded….just like a little pillow of potato.

Once you get the hang of it, making gnocchi is not difficult.  But like a lot of handmade foods (fresh pasta, for example…or meatballs), it is a process and it does take time.  Fortunately the formed gnocchi freeze beautifully. (Spread on baking sheets and freeze the gnocchi until hard, then transfer to freezer bags for storage.)  And while many recipe writers will tell you that you can cook the gnocchi from frozen (straight out of the freezer), I have found this to be a risky proposition.  Dropping the frozen gnocchi into a pot of boiling water is like dropping ice cubes into the water.  The temperature of the water drops and even over high heat, as it recovers, the edges of the gnocchi begin to fall apart in the lukewarm water.  By the time the water boils, you might have potato soup. 

Instead, when you want to cook your frozen gnocchi, spread them out on a semolina dusted baking sheet and leave them (uncovered) for about a half hour until they have thawed.  You can then cook them exactly as you would if they were freshly made. 

Before I finish, I wanted to give a plug for something new I'm doing on my Instagram feed.  I have begun to post short cooking demonstration videos to IGTV.  My first one was for the ever popular Cream Scones that I posted many years ago.  The most recent is for the potato gnocchi in this post.  I have made an effort to describe the process in detail here...but having a video to watch can only help.  If you have questions, please feel free to post them here...or on my IG feed.

Potato Gnocchi

2 russet potatoes (about 1 1/2 lbs.)

1 c. all-purpose flour (about 4 to 4 1/2 ounces)

1 to 1 1/2 T. butter

1 egg, beaten

salt, pepper & nutmeg, to taste

Semolina flour

Prick potatoes and bake in a preheated 400° oven until quite soft and tender—about 1 hour.  As soon as the potatoes are cool enough to handle, scoop out the flesh and pass through a food mill.  

Add the butter and seasoning (start with 1 t. kosher salt, several grindings of black pepper and a pinch of nutmeg) and combine lightly with a fork.  Add the egg and blend into the potato in a few strokes.

Place the flour in the center of a clean counter and turn the potato mixture out onto the flour.  

With a bench scraper, cut the flour into the potatoes just until it has disappeared.  

Knead briefly to form a soft, slightly tacky, dough.  

Cut the dough into eight pieces.  On a lightly floured surface, roll each piece out into a long rope that is about 1/2-inch thick.  

Place the ropes on a floured or semolina dusted cookie sheet and let rest for 1/2 hour at a cool room temperature.  

To form the gnocchi, place each rope on the floured board and cut crosswise into ¾-inch-thick slices.  

To finish shaping, place one of the cut surfaces of the gnocchi on a floured fork.  With your (floured) thumb press the other cut surface down and away from yourself, rolling the gnocchi off of the fork as you do.  You should end up with a small dumpling that has the marks of the fork on one side and a dimple from your thumb on the other.

Place the finished gnocchi on a semolina dusted sheet pan and scatter more semolina over all.  Set the gnocchi aside until you are ready to cook them—ideally they should be cooked within 1 to 3 hours.  They may also be frozen at this point. 

Bring a large pot of well-salted water to a boil.  Pour a few tablespoons of olive oil or melted butter on a sheet pan or large platter and set aside.  Add the gnocchi (don’t overcrowd the pot—cook in 2 batches if necessary).  Carefully run a flat wooden spoon or heat proof rubber spatula over the bottom of the pan to make sure the gnocchi aren’t sticking.  Continue to cook for 1 minute after the gnocchi float to the surface—or about the time the water begins to return to a boil.  Lift the gnocchi out of the water with a mesh strainer and spread them in the prepared pan.  Serve immediately dressed with your favorite sauce or drizzled with more melted butter and grated Parmesan. 

Makes 4 entrée or 6 appetizer or side-dish servings.

Working ahead:

• Make the gnocchi up to a week ahead and freeze before boiling.  Freeze on flour or semolina dusted sheets and when hard, transfer to freezer bags.   When ready to cook, spread the frozen gnocchi on semolina dusted sheets and let sit (uncovered) at room temperature for 30 to 60 minutes (during which time they should thaw).  Cook as for fresh. 
• Another way to work ahead is to serve sautéed gnocchi.  (I actually prefer them this way—they are even lighter.)  To prepare them, boil the gnocchi as directed and spread on an oiled or well-buttered sheet pan.  Set the gnocchi aside and allow them to cool.  The gnocchi may be cooked an hour or two ahead and left (uncovered) at room temperature.  When ready to serve, heat a large nonstick skillet over medium high heat.  Add 1 1/2 T. of the butter.  When the butter begins to brown, add half of the cooked gnocchi.  Increase the heat to high and cook the gnocchi in a single layer—tossing once or twice—until the gnocchi are golden brown and crispy in spots and hot through (about 2 minutes).  If you like, add some minced herbs—chives, parsley, etc. at this point.  Transfer to a serving platter and repeat with the remaining butter and cooked gnocchi.  Serve immediately.

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