Southern Pea Succotash...with Pan-Seared Salmon

In John Thorne's book Simple Cooking there is a great little essay (in the chapter "Perfect Pleasures") in which he sings the praises of a well-made succotash.  As a child, Thorne had apparently been regularly subjected to some atrocious (frozen foods) versions of succotash and had consequently carefully avoided all encounters with it until well into his adulthood.   But at some point he discovered that when properly prepared, this humble, late summer dish can be quite delicious.

One of the reasons I love this essay is I am able to relate to it so well.  I too have stories to tell of childhood food aversions that turned into love when I tasted their well-made counterparts as an adult.  (I chronicled one of the first of these experiences a few years ago in my post about ratatouille.)  However, I can say with all honesty that succotash was not one of these dishes.  (It probably would have been if I had ever tasted the childhood versions he describes.)  I'm not sure that I even knew what succotash was until I read Thorne's essay.  I think Sylvester the cat was my only reference point.  But after reading his essay, I had to try it.  And I agree, it really is a delicious dish. 

Classically succotash is simply a combination of well-buttered, freshly-cooked, sweet corn and lima beans.  I have not had access to fresh lima beans in many years (the one grower who had them at my market disappeared several seasons ago), so a few years back I began making my own version of succotash with the summer shell beans I did have access to—pink-eyed, purple hull peas.  

I think I like this version even better (the Pink-eyed peas are the same size as the corn kernels....making for a much prettier dish).  I'm sure that this dish would be pretty fine when made with whatever shelling bean happens to grow well in your part of the country.

If you've looked ahead to my recipe, you'll notice that I include more than just corn and shell beans in the mix.  As it turns out there are lots of traditional additions to succotash...all of them prolific, late summer foods:  fresh tomatoes, sweet onions, garlic, fresh herbs, summer squash and green beans.  And this is probably a short list—I'm sure there are other regional additions that have not yet crossed my path.  The version I'm posting is the one I most often make.  It is a combination of Thorne's recipe and the one in The Art of Simple Food by Alice Waters. 

As for the salmon...this is just my favorite thing to eat with succotash, so I have written the recipe to include it.  But it would be fine served with another fish...   or a pork chop...   or steak...   or even eaten all by itself as a big summer vegetable stew.  The most important thing is to make it when all of the ingredients are fresh and in season.  While I will admit that I occasionally make a very good version of this dish in the winter with corn and shell beans that I have frozen myself (I leave the tomatoes...and summer squash...out of this version), I have to agree with John Thorne that it is the seasonal immediacy of this dish that makes it special.  So now is the time to make it—before the corn and shell beans are gone for the year.  And even if this dish is among those that you would classify as a childhood atrocity, I encourage you to give it a try.  I don't know if I would go so far as Thorne—who calls succotash a delicacy—but I will say that I think you will find that it is very, very good.  

Pan Seared Salmon with Southern Pea Succotash

2 to 3 ears sweet corn

1 lb. southern peas (pink-eyed peas, Crowder peas, lady peas, etc.), shelled—about 1 to 1 1/2 cups peas depending on the variety

Salt & Pepper

Olive oil

1 medium red onion, cut in a 1/4-inch dice (about 1 cup)

2 t. minced fresh thyme

2 to 4 T. unsalted butter

2 medium vine-ripened tomatoes (about 8 oz.), peeled, seeded (juices reserved) and diced 

2 T. or so of minced fresh herbs of your choice (basil, parsley, chives or dill)

4 fillets salmon (4 to 6 oz. each), skin on or off—as you prefer

Salt & Pepper

vegetable or olive oil

Cut the corn from the cobs—you should have about 2 cups. Set aside. Scrape the cobs and reserve the scrapings separately. Cut the cobs in half cross-wise.

Place the peas and corn cobs in a sauce pan and cover the peas with water by 1 1/2 inches. Bring to a simmer and cook until the peas are tender but not mushy—about 30 minutes...more or less, depending on the kind of pea. Add salt to taste about half way through the cooking time. Peas may be cooked ahead. Cool and store in their cooking liquid. Drain just before using, reserving the cooking liquid.

Heat a medium-sized straight-sided sauté pan over medium heat. Add a tablespoon or so of oil. Add the onions along with the thyme and a pinch of salt. Cook until tender and a bit caramelized. Add a tablespoon or so of butter. 

When the butter is melted, add the corn and cook for a minute or two. 

Add the drained peas, the corn scrapings and the reserved tomato juices. If the succotash seems dry, add enough of the bean cooking liquid to moisten (but not so much that the succotash becomes soupy). Simmer gently until the corn is tender while you cook the fish (if the corn is cooked before the fish is done, remove the pan from the heat and finish the succotash while the fish is resting). 

Heat a 12-inch sauté pan over medium-high heat. While the pan is heating, season the fish with salt & pepper. Add the oil to the pan. When the oil is very hot, add the fish. If the skin is intact, put the skin side down; if the salmon has been skinned, place it skinned side up. Cook until nicely browned (skin should be crisp)—about 3 minutes. Turn and cook the fish, until barely opaque in the center—about another 3 minutes (you may need to reduce the heat to medium—regulate the heat to maintain an active sizzle). Remove the fish from the pan and keep warm.

Finish the succotash: Add herbs and the tomatoes and heat through. Swirl 1 or 2 T. of butter into the simmering succotash, adding more bean cooking liquid if necessary to coat the vegetables with a light buttery sauce. Taste and correct the seasoning. Spoon the succotash onto serving plates and top with the salmon.

Serves 4

Optional Additions:

• One or two small zucchini or summer squash, diced. Add to the pan with the onion when the onion is tender. Cook for 4 to 5 minutes before adding the corn. 
• 1 or 2 cloves minced garlic. Add with the corn. 

Printable Version

Vacation Inspiration: Roasted Red Pepper and Summer Shell Bean Salad served with Eggplant and Pesto

During my summer vacation this year I had the unexpected...and totally unplanned...pleasure of a quick twenty-four hour visit in to New York City.   Even though the visit was short, it really was sweet...it's amazing how much food you can pack into 24 hours.  We started with a snack at the Rockefeller Center outpost of Bouchon...

sat down for a late dinner at the charming small-plate French bistro Buvette in  the West Village and the next day enjoyed a farewell lunch at La Verdure in Mario's Eataly (stopping at the gelato counter on the way out to fortify myself for the train trip home).  I was so inspired by the things I got to taste.  Hopefully I will have the time in the months to come to share some of that inspiration here.  For now though, I thought I would share the delicious salad I made for our dinner the other night...inspired by the roast lamb entrée I enjoyed at Buvette.

The dish as prepared at Buvette  featured thin slices of rosy roast leg of lamb.  The lamb was served chilled and fanned on Buvette's signature small plates.  It came topped with a simple salad of roasted red peppers and white beans.  The plate was finished with basil pesto—dolloped and drizzled judiciously over all.  It was exactly the kind of food I love...simple, prepared with care and attention to detail, and bursting with flavor...  Delicious.

At home—because I don't keep chunks of roast leg of lamb on hand—I re-imagined the dish as an all vegetable plate, replacing the rounds of sliced lamb with rounds of broiled eggplant.  Like lamb and peppers, eggplant and  peppers have a natural affinity for one another, so this substitution wasn't really a huge leap.  Instead of white beans—which I only have access to in their dried form—I used some of the fresh pink-eyed purple hull peas which flood Midwestern and Southern farmers' markets every summer. 

If you have never tried  these kinds of shell beans (often called Southern peas)—and you live in a state where they grow—you should most definitely give them a try.  This salad would be a perfect place to start.  When you buy them, look for pods that have turned all purple.  If the pods are still greenish—with just a smudge of purple here and there—they were harvested a bit early and it is a tedious task to get the peas out of the pod.  The mature, purple pods open and release the peas with much less effort.

As far as all the components of my salad are concerned, I have written posts in the past that include detailed descriptions and pictures of all of the basic procedures used, so I won't belabor them here.  Instead, I'll just provide the links.  If you have never broiled eggplant slices, you can find out how to do it at this post for my favorite summer pizza.  If you would prefer to roast (rather than broil) the eggplant, simply follow the instructions included in the recipe for Late Summer Ragout of Eggplant and Summer Squash.  If you have never roasted and peeled a bell pepper, you can find instructions in a "basics" post I wrote a few years ago.  And finally, you can find my recipe for basil pesto in a post for one of my favorite summer pastas....Linguine with Potatoes, Green Beans and Pesto.  If you don't want to make pesto, you can leave it off entirely...or substitute some other flavorful herb-based sauce...salsa verde, for example. 

Like its inspiration, my salad was delicious.  We liked it so much I made it again before the week was out.  The first time we enjoyed it accompanied by semolina toasts topped with soft goat cheese.  When it made its second appearance, I served it with room temperature green beans tossed with olives and toasted walnuts.  If you like to have meat with your evening meal, the shell bean and roasted pepper salad (with or without the eggplant) would make a pretty fine late summer side dish....perfect alongside fish...chicken...beef.. and (of course) lamb. 

Roasted Red Pepper & Fresh Shell Bean Salad 

with Eggplant and Basil Pesto

1 1/3 c. shelled pink-eyed purple hull peas (see note)

1 fat clove garlic, peeled

a sprig or two of winter savory or thyme

a splash of olive oil

1 1/2 lbs. globe eggplant, sliced 1/3-inch thick

Oil for brushing

1 T. Sherry vinegar

1 T. red wine vinegar

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

salt & pepper to taste

6 T. extra virgin olive oil

1 1/4 lbs. red bell peppers, roasted, peeled, cooled and cut into 3/4- inch wide strips

3 to 4 T. very finely diced red onion, rinsed under cold running water (let drain thoroughly...I spread the rinsed onions on a paper towel to allow them to dry even more)

2 T. finely sliced Italian flat leaf parsley

3 or 4 T. basil pesto, thinned with water, bean cooking liquid and/or olive oil

Place the peas, garlic, herb sprigs and a tablespoon or so of olive oil in a sauce pan and cover the peas with water by 1 1/2 inches.  

Bring to a simmer and cook until the peas are tender—about 30 to 45 minutes.  Add salt to taste about half way through the cooking time.  Cool and store in their cooking liquid.  Drain just before using, reserving some of the cooking liquid for thinning the pesto, if you like.

Spread the eggplant on a baking sheet (you may need to work in batches) and brush on both sides with olive oil.  Season with salt and pepper.  Broil until tender and golden, turning once. If you have a grill, you can grill the vegetables instead of broiling them. If the eggplant is not yet fork tender when it is golden brown, stack it four or five slices deep as you remove it from the baking sheets—this will allow it to continue cooking.  Set aside and let cool.

While the peas and eggplant cook, prepare the vinaigrette:  Place the vinegars in a bowl with the garlic, along with a good pinch of salt and let sit for 10 minutes or so.  Add the oil in a thin stream, whisking constantly.  Taste and correct the seasoning and balance.  Drizzle some of the vinaigrette (about a tablespoon) over the roasted peppers (seasoning with salt and pepper to taste) and set the rest aside until ready to make the salad.

To make the salad, place the beans, marinated peppers, red onion and parsley in a bowl and toss to combine.  Drizzle with enough of the vinaigrette to coat all of the components generously.  Taste and correct the seasoning.  The salad may be served immediately as is, or it may be chilled.

To plate, arrange the eggplant on a platter (or individual plates) and spoon some of the vinaigrette over.  Drizzle/dollop some of the pesto sparingly over the dressed eggplant.  Mound the pepper and bean salad attractively over the eggplant, allowing the eggplant to show around the edges of the platter/plates.  Spoon a little more pesto over the bean salad and serve.

Salad may be served at room temperature or chilled.  Serves four as a light vegetarian entrée...more as a side dish.

Note:  You may use any fresh shell bean or Southern pea that you prefer for this dish.  If you don't have access to fresh shell beans, canned chickpeas make a delicious substitution.  You will need 1 can...drained and rinsed...for this recipe.  

Printable Recipe

Chicken Pot Pie

Chicken pot pie.  Warming....filling....the quintessential nostalgic dish for the cold months of the year.  Unfortunately it also has a reputation for being complicated and labor intensive to prepare.  And of course it can be this way.  But it doesn't have to be.  In its original incarnation, chicken pot pie...or any pot pie, for that matter...was probably just a leftover:  A clever way to reheat a rich stew by ladling it into a casserole, topping it with a pastry crust or a biscuit and placing it in a hot oven until the pastry or biscuit was golden and the stew bubbling hot.  So delicious in and of itself that today the by-product has become the goal.  When you consider it in terms of its origins, the process of preparing it becomes a little less daunting. 

The style of stew-like filling that most Americans associate with a chicken pot pie is similar to a classic French white stew—variously called a blanquette or a fricassée, depending on whether the vegetables and meat are tossed in hot butter (so as to sear without browning) or simply poached in hot broth...and on whether you thicken with a roux (a cooked mixture of flour and butter) or a liaison (a mixture of egg yolk and cream).  To avoid wading into the definition wars I'll simply state that the filling I make for my pot pie is a hybrid of all of these methods.  I poach the chicken...but if I had leftover roast chicken, I wouldn't hesitate to use it for a pot pie.  And I would most definitely add any leftover drippings or pan deglazings—a source of amazing flavor—even though their presence would produce a stew that was not so white.  As for the vegetables, I poach them....except for the mushrooms, which I sauté in butter simply because that's the way I like them.  To bind the stew together I thicken the chicken and vegetable poaching liquid with a roux.  This type of thickening is standard for any pot pie.  Since a pot pie is baked until the filling is bubbling you would never use a liaison as the thickener.  (Once a liaison of egg and cream is added to a stew,  the stew may not be boiled.  Doing so will produce a thin liquid filled with scrambled egg....).        

The filling I make nowadays for my chicken pot pie is really not too different from that of the first one I ever made.  My first chicken pot pie was from The New Good Housekeeping Cookbook—at the time, one of only two cookbooks that I owned.  The other was The Fanny Farmer Cookbook.  I was just beginning to learn how to cook and I had acquired a bee in my bonnet to make chicken pot pie.  Both books had a recipe, but for some reason the Good Housekeeping recipe looked more interesting to me.  Maybe because it was more complicated?  Incorporated both a bottom and top crust?  It's hard to say at this distance, but I remember that it did turn out to be quite a process.  It took me all of an afternoon.  More importantly though, I remember that it was one of the first labor intensive things I ever made that seemed totally worth it when I finally sat down and put some in my mouth. It was really delicious.  I couldn't believe I had made it. 

One of the things that had set the recipe apart was the inclusion of baby lima beans.  Before this pot pie, I don't think I had ever had them served in a way that I liked them.  But after that pot pie I was hooked.  If you have never had baby lima beans in cream sauce, you are missing out.  I can't imagine making my pot pie without them.  However,  if you have a childhood aversion to lima beans...and just can't bring yourself to try them...you can of course use peas instead. 

In fact, you can make chicken pot pie with any combination of vegetables that you like.  Carrots, onions of some kind, and celery are standard.  Peas are quite common.  Mushrooms too are typical, being a classic element in the aforementioned blanquettes and fricassées.  You will occasionally find potatoes, which are an obvious addition to a chicken stew.  Personally I would find just about any root vegetable to be a delicious addition.  Parsnips and celery root sound particularly appealing. 

Of course the more vegetables you add, the more complicated and drawn out the preparation of your stew becomes...depending on how you choose to cook each of the vegetables.  But if you do a little planning and advance preparation, even a stew with a complicated mix of vegetables can be prepared without too much stress.  As with any complicated recipe, breaking it down into its components is the key to success.  This is probably what made the process so difficult for me that long ago first time:  I didn't really have a handle on the big picture and how to break it up into manageable parts. 

For a pot pie, the components are the crust, the meat, the vegetables, and the thickened liquid.  The process consists of preparing the components and building the pie.  If you make the crust and poach the chicken the day before, the work that remains to ready the pie for the oven can be accomplished in an hour or less.   If you are using leftover chicken and vegetables (or leftover stew!), your work will be even more streamlined. 

Not only will the process itself be less stressful if you break it down into its parts, you will find that you are empowered to create your own version of a chicken pot pie, filled with a combination of vegetables that you love.  When making your pot pie, simply consider that for the size recipe I am posting, you will need two cups of cooked chicken, a generous four cups of cooked vegetables, two cups of sauce and about a half pound of pie dough...perhaps more if you have a very wide and shallow baking dish.  The choice of vegetables, ratio of cream to stock, inclusion of any herbs or other flavor elements is entirely up to you.    

Whatever vegetables you choose to include, when you are done you will have an unbelievably good,  rich and creamy stew—chock full of tender chicken and tasty vegetables—crowned with a flaky crust.  And no matter how much time and effort it took, I'm fairly certain you will think it was totally worth it.  

Chicken Pot Pie

2 c. rich chicken stock or good quality low-salt broth

Salt

1 c. (4 oz.) cipollini onions, peeled and quartered (halved if smaller)

1/3 lb. carrots (2 large), trimmed and peeled and cut on a short diagonal 1/4-inch thick (1 cup)

1 stalk celery, trimmed and cut on a short diagonal 1/4-inch thick (1/2 cup)

4 oz. crimini or white mushrooms, halved or quartered

3 T. butter, divided

2 c. (8 oz.) shredded cooked chicken

1 c. (5 oz.) frozen baby lima beans, thawed

3 T. flour

1/3 c. heavy cream

Freshly Ground Pepper

Chilled Pâte Brisée "Lid" (see below)

1 egg, well-beaten

Place 2 cups of chicken stock in a small saucepan and bring to a simmer, season with salt to taste and add the onions, carrots and celery.  Simmer gently until the vegetables are tender—about 15 minutes.  Strain the broth into a two cup measure.  Add water (or more broth) to make 1 2/3 cup total liquid.  Place the drained vegetables in a bowl and set aside.  Return the broth to the saucepan and keep hot.

While the vegetables poach, melt a tablespoon of butter in a medium sauté pan.  When the butter is melted, increase the heat to medium-high.  Add the mushrooms and sauté until browned and tender.  Season with salt and add to the bowl with the onions, carrots and celery.  Add the lima beans and chicken to the bowl and toss to combine.

Return the pan the mushrooms were cooked in to the burner and melt another two tablespoons of butter over medium heat.  When the butter foams, whisk in the flour.  Cook stirring constantly for a few minutes—the roux will be bubbly and straw yellow.  Remove from the heat and pour in half of the hot broth, whisking constantly until smooth—it will thicken immediately.  Add the remaining broth and the cream.  Return to the heat and stir constantly until the sauce returns to a simmer.  Taste and season as desired with salt and pepper.  Scrape the sauce into the bowl of chicken and vegetables and fold in.  Taste and correct the seasoning.

Turn the chicken/vegetable mixture into a buttered 1 1/2 quart casserole. 

Place the prepared sheet of dough over the casserole.  Either fold the edges of the dough under and crimp the edge, or simply allow the dough to hang over the edge of the dish.  Brush the dough with a thin film of egg wash.  

If you have not already cut round vent holes in the dough, use the tip of a sharp knife to make several decorative slashes in the dough to serve as vents.  Place the pot pie on a baking sheet and place in a pre-heated 400° oven.  Bake until the crust is golden brown and the filling is bubbling—about 30 to 40 minutes.  Let the pie cool for a few moments before serving.  Serves 4.

Variations & Substitutions:

• Substitute 1 cup 1/2-inch diced onion for the cipollinis.  Instead of poaching them in the broth with the carrot and celery, soften them in the 2 T. of butter before adding the flour. 
• Use one large leek instead of the cipollinis.  Trim away the root and dark green.  Halve the leek lengthwise and cut each half cross-wise in 1/2-inch wide pieces.  Rinse in several changes of water to remove all soil and grit.  Poach with the carrots and celery.
• Replace the lima beans with peas.
• For the cooked chicken you may use any type of cooked chicken you like...leftovers, or freshly poached or roasted (even purchased "rotisserie")....white or dark meat (I prefer dark).  If you choose to poach your chicken, add a wedge of onion, a chunk of carrot, a short piece of celery, and a sprig or two of thyme to the poaching liquid—you may use water or broth for the poaching medium.  Use some of this strained chicken poaching liquid (essentially rich homemade stock) as the base liquid for the pie (for poaching the vegetables and making the sauce).  If you are using a roast chicken, deglaze the roasting pan with stock and add the deglazings to the vegetable poaching liquid.  If you are starting from raw chicken (as opposed to using leftovers or purchased) you will need about a pound of parts to produce the half pound of meat needed for the pie.
• If you like, add some fresh herbs—minced thyme or flat-leaf parsley—to the filling mixture.
• You may use any combination of cooked vegetables you like for this pot pie as long as you have four cups total of cooked vegetables.
• This recipe makes enough of the filling to fill a 1 1/2 quart baking dish and serves four.  Divide or multiply the recipe as you like to feed 2, 4, 6 or 8—adjusting the size of the baking dish accordingly.  The quantity of dough in the recipe is sufficient to cover a 13- by 9-inch baking dish (which will hold a double recipe of filling). 
• Working ahead:  You can of course make the filling, immediately turn it into the casserole, top it with the chilled crust and bake.  But you may also make the filling ahead.  To do so, pour the warm filling into the prepared casserole, cool and chill.  An hour or so before you are ready to bake the pie, pull it out of the refrigerator and allow it to come to room temperature.  Top with the crust and bake as directed, extending the cooking time as necessary.  As before, bake until the crust is golden and the filling is hot and bubbling.  
• You may prepare individual pot pies.  Choose four oven proof casseroles with a capacity of 1 1/2 cups each.  Cut the dough in rounds with a diameter that is at least 1 inch larger than the opening of your chosen casseroles.  When making individual pies, cool the filling completely before topping with the crust (a warm filling would cause the butter in the crust to soften too much  in the amount of time it would take to  top all four pies).

Pâte Brisée:

1 1/2 c. all-purpose flour (6 oz.)

1/2 t. salt

9 T. cold unsalted butter, cut into 1/4-inch thick slices (4 1/2 oz.)

3 to 4 1/2 T. ice water

Combine the flour and the salt in a medium-sized bowl.  Rub the butter into the flour until the butter is in small pea-sized pieces. Drizzle 3 T. ice water over the flour/butter mixture.  Using your hands, fluff the mixture until it begins to clump, adding more water if necessary.  Turn the dough out onto a counter and form into a mound.  Using the heel of your hand, gradually push all of the dough away from you in short forward strokes, flattening out the lumps.  Continue until all of the dough is flat.  Using a bench scraper, scrape the dough off the counter, forming it into a single clump as you do.  Form the finished dough into a thick disk.  Chill for at least 30 minutes.

To roll out, let dough warm up for a moment or two.  Roll out the dough on a lightly floured surface into a rectangle, round, oval or square (depending on the shape of your casserole) that is about 1/8- to 1/6–inch thick.  Take the casserole you will be baking the pot pie in and invert it onto the dough.  Following the shape of the casserole, cut the dough so there will be a 1/2- to 1-inch overhang of dough all the way around.   Brush off the excess flour and transfer the dough to a baking sheet.  Chill until ready to build the pot pie (it should chill for at least 30 minutes).  If you like, you use a small smooth or fluted round cutter to cut out two or three vents in the sheet of dough.

Printable Recipe

Food for March Madness



To everyone who thinks I'm going to be discussing basketball, I apologize for the misleading title of my post. The entire country may be caught up in college basketball frenzy, but I'm in the midst of an entirely different sort of March Madness. It is the annual race to get my garden in shape for the growing season ahead.

It would be nice if I had a long, cool, moist spring season to work in the garden—to remove winter mulch and leaves, cultivate the soil and lay fresh compost and mulch. But here in Kansas City, we rarely have that luxury. This year is no different.

Here is a picture of my garden eight days ago:

The temperature has been in the upper seventies for the past few days. Yesterday it was over eighty. Here is that same spot in my garden this morning:

These conditions are a bit unusual (even for Kansas City), but they have made it so the garden is screaming for my attention. So for the past few days, I have been spending as much time there as I can spare. Here are the same daffodils, later in the morning, dressed up in their skirt of new mulch:

To be honest, I wish that I could spend more time in my garden right now. Early spring is my favorite time to be in the garden. The newly thawed ground is easy to work. The trials and failures of the previous season pale in my memory as I encounter the fresh growth of the new year. The air of the early spring garden is infused with hope. So, even though I don't suddenly have extra hours in my days to devote to one more activity, I stay as long as I possibly can.

Since I have to make up the lost time somewhere, I tend to spend a lot less time preparing our evening meal (unless I'm testing a recipe). Now is a perfect time to use up a lot of the things that I squirreled away in my freezer last fall.

Tonight I pulled some braised pork and pinto beans—soft taco filling—out of the freezer. I prepared it for a large family gathering back in December and had intended to write a blog post about it at the time, but because I was busy trying to get food on the table for a larger crowd than usual, I only took one picture of the finished dish:

This recipe has been in my possession for probably twenty years and this was the first time I have ever made it. I had always intended to make it—the recipe came from someone I knew to be a very fine cook (my best friend's mother)—but for some reason it had never popped into my mind to make it when I was in a position to make casual food for a crowd. This time I happened across the recipe at just the right time.

I was very pleased with the results and will definitely make it again. It could not possibly have been easier to make. All of the ingredients are simply combined in a heavy pan and then parked in a low oven all day. That's it. It is perfect for a crowd of hungry people. The flavors are familiar and unintimidating and it makes a very large quantity of meat and beans. Even with our crowd of eleven, I sent home large containers with my brothers' families and still had some left for us. It tastes even better the next day and (as I just discovered) freezes beautifully. I should have tried it a long time ago.

Of course you've probably figured out by now that you don't have to have this in the freezer in order to enjoy it on a busy day. This Saturday, you could put it in the oven first thing, spend the entire day working in your garden, and then have it for dinner that evening...or the next. And if your March Madness is of the basketball kind—and you want to spend the weekend watching basketball with your similarly afflicted friends—you could make it to share and not miss a minute of the games.

Lynn's Mexicali Meat

A traditional filling for beef tostadas, enchiladas, burritos and tacos. Tastes even better if made a day ahead. Freezes well.

3 lb. boneless Pork Butt, trimmed of most apparent fat
1 lb. dried pinto beans—do not pre-soak
4 c. water
3 large garlic cloves, minced
1 small white onion (6 oz.), finely diced *
3/4 lb. Poblano Peppers, roasted, peeled, seeded & diced *
2 T. ground cumin *
2 T. chili powder
5 t. dried oregano
1 t. ground coriander
1 t. chipotle chili powder *
1 28 oz. can whole tomatoes, with juice—broken up (I used "fire roasted")
4 t. kosher salt (or 1 T. iodized table salt)

Preheat oven to 250°F. Place all of the ingredients in a large Dutch oven (at least 5 1/2 quarts) and stir to mix well.

Cover and bake for 7 to 8 hours or until the meat and beans are tender. After 4 or 5 hours, begin to check occasionally, adding more water if the mixture is dry. When done, shred the meat (this can be done right in the pan with a couple of forks, or you may remove it to a platter to shred it). Stir to combine the shredded meat and beans. The final mixture should be the consistency of chili and beans. Allow to stand a few minutes before serving. Taste and correct the seasoning.

Serve meat with accompaniments and condiments of your choice—warm flour or corn tortillas/taco shells/chips, rice, grated cheese, chopped onions, olives, salsa, sour cream, avocado/guacamole, shredded lettuce, chopped tomatoes, cilantro, etc. Serves a large crowd—15 to 18 or more.

* The original recipe did not include any onion. Instead of fresh poblano peppers, it called for a drained 7 oz. can of diced green chiles. Also, the original recipe used cumin seed instead of ground cumin and 1/2 to 1 t. of cayenne pepper instead of chipotle chili powder.

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A Week of Food & Friends and a Butternut Squash Served Three Ways

 

 I just returned from a magical week away at the lake with friends. At one time or another, all of us have cooked professionally, so in addition to long walks and long conversations, we cooked up a storm. Since I was more interested in talking, cooking and eating than in documenting the things we made (I was on vacation after all), I don't have any exact recipes to share. Even if I did have detailed recipes, a post documenting all of the wonderful things we had (fish tacos with Nancy's fresh homemade tortillas, orange and pecan cream scones, herb butter baked salmon, roasted beet salad with goat cheese and walnuts, a chocolate cake called Miette's Tomboy from Rose's Heavenly Cakes...) would be impossibly long. Instead, I thought that today I would write about one humble ingredient that wove its way into three of our meals through the creative impulse of three different cooks...a butternut squash.

The night we arrived in Chicago, before meeting up with the rest of our group the next day and heading on to the lake house, three of us shared a meal at a fun little Italian restaurant in Wicker Park called Francesca's Forno. Inspired by a risotto we had shared there, Molly suggested that we make a main course risotto and a simple salad for one of our evening meals. I suggested one of my favorite combinations of Butternut squash and mushrooms. This was what we tentatively had in our minds as we set off for the Garden Market.

Anyone who cooks knows that your plans often change once you actually start shopping. This is especially true at a produce market. We had picked up our butternut squash and some mushrooms when I spotted some fresh lima beans.

Fresh lima beans are almost never available where most of us live, so we decided to get some thinking they would be a nice addition to our "Autumn Risotto". There were also some lovely first of the season parsnips that we grabbed knowing that we would find some way to use them during the week.

To prepare the squash, I halved it horizontally at the point where the neck begins to widen into the seed cavity. I peeled and diced the neck

 and halved and seeded the cavity end.

My plan was to roast the two cavity halves "whole"

in order to make a coarse purée that could be stirred into the risotto during its early stages and to roast the diced neck pieces so that they could be folded into the risotto at the end (along with the sautéed mushrooms and cooked lima beans).  

As I cooked the risotto, the plan changed. The squash was pretty large—way too much even for the pound of risotto that we were preparing. We didn't weigh the one we purchased, but I have one here at home now that weighs just under two pounds and it is smaller than the one we purchased for our risotto. We decided to roast the diced pieces and put them away for another meal and just use the mashed cavity end of the squash in our risotto.

To prepare our Autumn Risotto, dice a medium onion and mince a fat clove of garlic. Sweat the onion and garlic in 2 to 3 tablespoons of butter along with a pinch of salt and 6 or 7 large sage leaves cut into a fine chiffonade. When the onions are very tender, add a pound of Arborio rice and continue to cook for a few moments until the rice is hot and sizzling in the butter. Add about 3/4 cup of white wine and cook until the wine has been completely reduced and/or absorbed. Begin to add the stock a ladleful or two at a time, waiting for each addition to be absorbed before adding more. The risotto does not have to be stirred constantly, but it should be stirred regularly and frequently. For a more complete description of the risotto process, see my earlier post on risotto. Be sure to continue to salt the risotto with the successive additions of stock, so that the resulting risotto will not be flat or bland. Pay attention to how salty your stock or broth is when adding salt and remember that the final addition of Parmesan will add to the saltiness of the dish.

After three or four additions of stock add the coarsely mashed squash purée and continue to cook.

While the risotto cooks, sauté a half pound of sliced Crimini mushrooms in some olive oil and butter; set aside.

The lima beans should be prepared before you begin to cook the onions since they will take at least 20 to 30 minutes to cook. To cook them, simply simmer them in some lightly salted water until they are soft and tender. Set the lima beans aside; reserving the cooking liquid too. 

We only purchased a quart of broth, so we used the lima bean cooking liquid as part of our cooking liquid for the risotto. Just use as much as you need.


When the risotto is almost finished fold in the drained lima beans and mushrooms with an addition of broth or bean liquid. When the rice is cooked through, but still has texture, remove it from the heat and add 4 tablespoons of butter, a handful or two of Parmesan and a sprinkling of minced flat leaf parsley.  Correct the seasoning with salt and pepper and the consistency with bean liquid—the risotto should be fluid, but not soupy, and very creamy. 

 

We served the risotto with a green salad and a Vouvray. The five of us sat at the table and continued to nibble, so there was only a small amount left, but under ordinary circumstances I think there was easily enough risotto for six entrée portions. To my mind, the unplanned addition of the lima beans was actually what put this risotto into the memorable category. I love lima beans, but have never had them in risotto and the combination of the soft limas with the creamy risotto was a revelation.

The next evening Nancy put some of the roasted cubes of butternut squash into a wonderful salad...sort of a vegetable crouton addition to a green salad.


 She dressed the salad with a sherry-shallot vinaigrette that included a little bit of garlic, Dijon and honey. She also added toasted pecans, thinly sliced red onion and a generous amount of shaved Parmesan to the salad. It was beautiful and tasty—nicely complimented by a roast chicken, mashed potatoes and the parsnips, roasted and then finished with a small amount of maple syrup.

The following day for lunch, Molly turned the remaining diced roasted squash into one of my favorite dishes of the week—a favorite because it was so simple and beautiful, with nothing extra and nothing missing. She warmed the squash, remaining limas (we had cooked all that we purchased and only used a generous cup in the risotto) and leftover slices of maple-roasted parsnips, creating a simple autumnal vegetable medley. The colors and shapes were lovely together. Unfortunately, I didn't get a good picture of it.

As you can probably tell, the food at the lake house was wonderful. We even received another lesson from Bonnie for her special Cardamom Bread (someday I'll convince her to write a guest post).


I will savor the tastes of this week for months to come. But as I look back, it is not just the food and cooking that made it so very special. Rather, it was the laughter, conversation and camaraderie in the kitchen and at the table. And now that I am home, it isn't just one more meal that I crave. How I long to have more time...  for one more walk through the woods...

or along the beach...




in the company of my very dear friends.