Sunday, November 25, 2012

Pizza from the remains of the cheese platter....and a mystery....


In her book Cooking with the Seasons, Monique Jamet Hooker shares a recipe for a warm potato salad from her days at a French boarding school. The salad is made with the leftover ends of Camembert cheese. This sort of recipe makes sense in a culture where a daily cheese course—particularly at a school—might produce lots of little ends (plein de petits bouts) of cheese. Unfortunately Americans do not routinely pass a cheese platter. Consequently they don't have a great need for recipes using up the little ends. I make a version of her delicious salad, but I go out and buy a round of Camembert when I want to make it.

Americans do like to have cheese platters when they entertain. And the season for parties is now upon us. Just this past week I served a small cheese platter to a group of friends. I love cheese—I eat it most days for lunch—but even with my larger than average consumption of cheese, I was left with more than I would normally be able to consume. In the end I decided on a cheese based pizza—a variation on a Kale, Pancetta & Goat Cheese Pizza that I posted this summer.  But I could have made a cheese soufflé....Macaroni and Cheese or some variation thereof... Basically any cooked dish where an interesting blend of cheeses would be welcome would have worked. In general, you should never feel tied down to the exact cheeses listed in a recipe (unless you are aiming for an exact taste). For a recipe that will be cooked, as long as the cheeses you use melt well, go well with one another and go well with the other ingredients in the recipe, your final result should be delicious.

And my pizza was delicious. I left the bacon out, blanched, squeezed and chopped the kale before adding it to half of a caramelized diced red onion, layered in a couple tablespoons of pine nuts when I topped the pizza and used the ends (about 6 oz. total) of some soft goat cheese, a Spanish Mahon and a favorite cheese from Cypress Grove called Midnight Moon.


If you happen to have the remains of a holiday cheese platter on your hands, I encourage you to give this pizza a try. But the pizza really isn't the reason for today's post. Rather, today I want to share a bit of culinary mystery. I don't have the solution and am curious if anyone else has ever had a similar experience or if someone of a scientific bent can give me an explanation.

If you look carefully at the picture of my kale pizza you will notice that the kale is bleeding deep green into the cheese (and even dying some of the pine nuts green). The taste of the pizza is not affected, but the appearance is—to me at least—a bit unappetizing.


The only other time this has ever happened to me was for a class. I was teaching my Savory Bread Pudding with Chestnuts and Kale. Unfortunately in this case the effect was much more pronounced. I was preparing the tasting portion of pudding.  When I added the cooked kale to the bowl of bread and custard and began to fold, the entire contents of the bowl turned brilliant green—not army green—but a brilliant, teal green. Even the baked version of the pudding retained this astonishing color. (Since it was a holiday dish, you could have said it looked quite festive....but this really wasn't my goal.) In every other respect, the pudding was normal.

Then, during class, using the exact same ingredients (kale purchased in the same place and I assume from the same case), the demonstration batch of the pudding behaved as it always had—no bleeding whatsoever. The only difference between the two batches was that the kale I used on the tasting batch had not had time to cool completely. The kale I used in the demonstration batch was thoroughly cool when I added it. Because of this difference, I assumed that the bleeding had occurred because the cooked kale needed to be totally cool before being added to something else.

I completely forgot about all of this until the other evening when the cheese on my pizza turned green. My kitchen was cool and the kale had been sitting for a while before I put it on the pizza (I was able to spread it with my hands). While not cold, the kale mixture was definitely cool. I was a bit dismayed when I opened the oven and saw that brilliant, shimmery green color bleeding into the cheeses.

I do have one final bit of information that might aid in discovering the solution to my mystery: Typically I have two methods that I use when preparing kale. The first I generally use with young kale. With this method, the washed kale is added directly to a pan of hot oil. It is allowed to collapse and then cook in the oil (which can include onions, garlic, etc.) until it is completely tender. The second method, which I typically use with more mature kales, begins by first blanching the kale in rapidly boiling salted water until it is tender. The tender kale is transferred to baking sheets where it cools. Once cool, I squeeze out as much of the excess water as possible. The squeezed kale is briefly cooked in a bit of oil (which often includes onion, garlic, etc.). This final sauté removes any remaining water and adds flavor. Both times when the kale has bled green into the rest of the ingredients, I have prepared it using the second method. But I use this method a lot (Butternut Squash & Kale Quiche, Kale & Potato Spanish Tortilla, and Baked Pasta with Kale & Chicken—another great place to use up your leftover chunks of cheese), and you can see from the pictures on these posts that the kale didn't bleed in any of these instances.

So, there you have it...my culinary mystery. I hope no one minds the departure from my typical format today...I promise to post a recipe in my next post...but I would really like to understand what might be causing this interesting phenomenon.  If anyone knows....or has an idea....or has experienced the same...I would love to hear about it. 

Yes, it was slightly green....but it was delicious....


Tuesday, November 20, 2012

Marinated Olives



My maternal grandmother's Thanksgiving spread would not have been complete without a relish tray. Unfortunately it was filled with things that as a child I had no desire to eat. I was admittedly a picky eater, but to this day I am loth to consume celery stuffed with anything. There was also almost always something called a watermelon rind pickle. I confess I never once tasted it. Its appearance—glistening, semi-translucent chunks of pale, whitish green—was enough to put me off.

I don't know how old I was when I discovered the black olives, but once tasted I was hooked (maybe I should have tasted those watermelon pickles). They were not fancy olives—just the ubiquitous tinned, pitted California olives—but I loved them. Whenever my grandmother started to put together "the relish tray" I would hang around waiting for the can of olives to be opened so I could sneak some before dinner. It was not long before I expanded my horizons to the big green pimento-stuffed Spanish Olives that also made an appearance on her relish tray. I loved their salty tang so much I was even willing to eat the pimento.

As an adult I have continued to taste my way through the world of olives, happily sampling any olive I am presented with. I was in olive heaven in the South of France. The stalls of the olive vendors at the markets there are loaded with black and green olives of every shade, marinated in all manner of tasty aromatic ingredients. The olive bars in most of my local super markets...even Whole Foods...are meager in comparison.

Fortunately, making your own marinated olives is extremely easy. There are recipes all over the web, but you don't really need a recipe. Just visit the store with the largest selection of olives at their olive bar and pick and choose until you have a nice medley (or you could just go with one favorite—my current favorite is Castelvetrano). When you get home, remove the olives from their brine (if they are in one) and place in a large bowl. Toss them with your marinade, cover and refrigerate for a day or two, pulling them out occasionally to give them a stir. Bring them to room temperature before serving.


Here is my favorite (at least for now) marinade: Drain four cups of olives (pitted or not) and place them in a medium-sized bowl. Place a half cup of olive oil in a small saucepan. Add several sprigs of rosemary, some whole fennel seed (1/2 to 1 t.), a pinch of hot pepper flakes (as much or as little as you like), 2 or 3 bay leaves and 4 or 5 cloves of peeled garlic (if they are very fat, use 2 or 3 and halve them lengthwise). Using a vegetable peeler, remove several strips of zest (about 3- by 1/2-inch each) from an orange and a lemon—about 4 or 5 strips of orange and 2 or 3 strips of lemon is about right. Be careful to remove just the zest and as little of the white pith as possible (the pith is bitter). Add the strips of zest to the oil with the other ingredients. Over moderate heat, warm the marinade until all of the ingredients are gently sizzling.


Remove from the heat and let stand for 15 to 20 minutes to infuse the oil with the flavor of the aromatic ingredients. Pour the warm marinade over the drained olives, folding to make sure the ingredients are well combined. Let cool if necessary before covering and transferring to the refrigerator.


I love the look of these olives with the large pieces of zest and herbs and garlic. But if you prefer, you could finely julienne the strips of zest and mince the rosemary and garlic. You could substitute thyme for the rosemary....or coriander seed for the fennel....a star anise or two would be an interesting addition. The last time I made these I didn't have any un-zested lemons in the house. So instead I julienned a piece of preserved lemon and added this to the mix.


It was delicious. Next time I will add more....  The "recipe" really should only be a guideline. The idea is to give the olives a chance to sit in an oil infused with flavors that you love in combination with olives.

Your own "house"-marinated olives would make an excellent addition to your Thanksgiving celebration. Although, if you have small children around, it might be a good idea to include a small bowl of those mild California black olives (just plain...without any marinade). While not what I would choose to eat now, they paved the way for a future filled with olive delights.


Printable Recipe

Friday, November 16, 2012

Butternut Squash & Black Bean Burritos


I taught a class this week featuring quick weeknight meals for the holiday season. Even though the focus of the class was "quick", it was nice to observe as I shopped for the class that my cart was mostly filled with produce. At a time of year when everyone is too busy to cook dinner and probably eating way too much rich and sweet stuff, I was glad to be able to contribute some ideas for satisfying and truly nourishing meals—all made without processed foodstuffs and all of which can be prepared in an hour or less. One of the recipes was the Broccoli Cheese Soup I posted last month. Today I thought I would share another favorite—Butternut Squash & Black Bean Burritos.


These burritos have been part of my repertoire for several years now. The original recipe is from the Rolling Prairie Cookbook. Written by my friend Nancy O'Connor (who is the director of education and outreach at The Community Mercantile in Lawrence, Kansas where I teach the majority of my cooking classes) and published in support of the Rolling Prairie Farmers' Alliance CSA (Community Supported Agriculture), it is tailor made for people who have signed up for a CSA and then have no idea what to do with some of the vegetables that arrive in their share each week. This book is filled with great ideas for the vegetables and fruits that thrive in the Midwestern United States. If you live in Kansas or Missouri and are a member of a CSA, you should own a copy of this book.

One of the good things about this recipe is that it easily falls into the category of what I call a "pantry" dinner. All of the ingredients are items that store well in the refrigerator or pantry—hard winter squash, onions and garlic, beans (canned or dried), spices, cheese and flour tortillas. No special run to the store for perishables is required. My favorite accompaniment to this dish is an apple salad or simple slaw


—both of which can be quickly made from items that have a lengthy life in the refrigerator. It occurred to me the other day that a classic cranberry sauce or spicy cranberry chutney (something everyone will have on hand over the next couple of weeks) would be a delicious accompaniment, too.

If you are going to bake the burritos in the oven after they have been formed, this recipe will probably take longer than an hour from start to finish (my criteria for all of the recipes I taught in my "quick meals" class). But I have described a shortcut (in the notes at the end of the recipe) that you can use to trim your prep time down to under an hour. If you plan ahead, you can cut your time down even further by dicing the squash a day or two ahead of time and storing it in a covered container in the refrigerator. If you are using dried instead of canned beans, these can be made ahead as well.

With a simple Waldorf Salad

Before I end today's post, I want to encourage everyone to check out my Facebook page. There, I have begun to create galleries of pictures with links to past blog posts of holiday recipes. So far I have posted a gallery of Thanksgiving side dish ideas and another of pumpkin recipes that have a holiday appeal. As the season progresses, there will be more to come. Let the holiday baking and cooking begin!


Savory Butternut Squash & Black Bean Burritos

2 1/2 to 3 cups peeled butternut squash (from a 1 1/4 lb. squash), cut into 1/2-inch cubes
2 T. Olive oil
1/2 medium red onion, cut in a 1/4-inch dice
1 clove of garlic, minced
a generous 1/2 t. ground cumin
1/4 t. cinnamon
Salt & pepper
1 3/4 c. cooked black beans (1 can), drained and rinsed
8 8-inch flour tortillas (see note)
1 1/2 cups grated Monterey jack, Fontina or Gouda cheese (about 6 oz.)

Toss the squash with 1 T. olive oil and season with salt and pepper. Spread in a single layer on a baking sheet and bake in a 450°F oven until tender and caramelized—20 to 25 minutes (stirring once so it will brown evenly).

Meanwhile, heat another tablespoon of oil in heavy skillet over medium heat. Add onions and a pinch of salt and cook until tender and beginning to caramelize. Add the garlic and spices and continue to cook until fragrant. Add the beans and a few tablespoons of water (or bean cooking liquid)—just enough to deglaze and provide a brief simmer to infuse the beans with the flavor of the onions and spices. Heat through. If the beans seem soupy, simmer briefly to remove some of the excess liquid. Remove from the heat.

When the squash is done, add to the pan with the beans. Return to the heat to reheat, if necessary.


Reduce the oven temperature to 350˚F. Lay out one tortilla. Place 1/8 of the bean mixture (about a third of a cup) down the center, top with 3 tablespoons (3/4 oz.) of cheese and roll up tightly, “burrito-fashion”.


Continue to do this with remaining ingredients, lining up the burritos in an oblong baking dish (that has been lightly oiled or sprayed) as you go.


Bake, loosely covered with foil, for approximately 20 minutes until burritos are heated through. Serve burritos with sour cream on the side. Serves 4 to 6 (see notes).

(Recipe adapted from Rolling Prairie Cookbook by Nancy O'Connor)

Notes: 


• You may use 8-inch or 10-inch tortillas—depending on your preferred ratio of filling to tortilla. When I use 8-inch tortillas, I get 8 burritos. When I use 10-inch, I make 6 burritos. But you might want to make 6 out of the 8-inch and 4 giant burritos out of the 10-inch.

• The number of servings you will get out of the recipe is entirely dependent on appetites and the other things you are serving. If you serve a small salad or some sliced apples—you'll probably only get four servings from this recipe. If you serve rice—or something else substantial and filling—you are more likely to be able to stretch the burritos to serve at least 6.

• I like to warm the tortillas before filling them. To do this, turn a gas or electric burner on to high heat. Slide both sides of each tortilla back and forth over the burner until it is warm, flecked with brown and flexible. Stack the tortillas and cover loosely with foil to keep them warm as you work.

• Sometimes—when I'm in a hurry—I don't even bother to take the time to bake these. To do this, place the empty oblong baking dish in the 350° oven with a piece of foil large enough to lay over the dish. Make sure the filling is nice and hot. Warm the tortillas. For each burrito, fill and roll and place in the pan in the oven. Cover loosely with the foil to keep it warm while you roll the rest of the burritos.

• If you like, you may use the filling to make quesadillas. Mash the squash and beans lightly and smear a thin layer on one tortilla. Top with an ounce or so of cheese, followed by a second tortilla. Cook the quesadillas in a hot pan coated with a thin film of oil. Cut into wedges and serve.

Printable Recipe
 


Saturday, November 10, 2012

German Chocolate Cake for my Dad's Birthday


Every year when we were growing up my mother made a special cake for each of us on our birthday. My Dad's cake of choice was always German Chocolate Cake...not a fancy bakery version, but the one on the back of the "German's Sweet Chocolate" package. As a kid I hated this cake and was always a little miffed that on an occasion when I could reasonably expect a big slice of cake, it was a cake I didn't want to eat. It took a while for me to make peace with coconut, but these days, I would be more than willing to have a slice. I'm not sure my Dad ever knew I finally learned to enjoy his cake...he didn't live long enough even to celebrate his 56th birthday. Today would have been his 75th. I have not made this cake in a while, but this year, in recognition of his special day, I decided to make one.

My mother's well-used copy of the recipe

I am pleased that I have this place—my blog—to honor him with his cake, because even though it has been many years since his passing, I miss him still.  I don't think it matters how old you are when you lose a parent...or how much time passes from the moment they cease to inhabit this world....the place they occupied in your life remains empty.

I should probably try and describe my Dad for you, but I don't think I will—at least not in the ordinary way one describes a person. Although he was a person who was highly esteemed—both personally and professionally—any description I could give here would still be inadequate. What is important to me is that he was my Dad—something no one else can be.

When I was a kid there was a skit on Sesame Street about a little boy who had been separated from his mother. In the skit the child is crying inconsolably as the detectives on the case try to get him to give a good description of her so they can find her. All he can tell them is that his mother is the most beautiful woman in the world. So they dutifully bring a parade of the most beautiful women in the world for him to see. All the while the child continues to shake his head sadly. I don't remember how it happens, but his mother finally appears on the scene. When she does, it is clear she is not the most beautiful woman in the world. Those who had been trying to find her for the child are stunned...but he is elated.

So, if someone were to ask me to describe my Dad in a few brief words, I would be tempted to say that he was the smartest, strongest man in the world. It is doubtful that a team of detectives could find him given such a description.....but I would know him anywhere.

Happy Birthday, Dad.

Monday, November 5, 2012

Sweet Potato & Mushroom Gratin


Tomorrow I'm teaching a joint holiday cooking class with my good friend Nancy. The class features some of our favorite Thanksgiving recipes. Nancy will be teaching a roasted cranberry chutney, a delicious raw kale and apple salad and her amazing pecan pie. My contribution will be my grandmother's dinner rolls, pumpkin pot de crème and a simple gratin of sweet potatoes and mushrooms. Today, I thought I would give a sneak peak at the sweet potato recipe.


In my house it wasn't Thanksgiving without sweet potatoes on the table. Even so, there wasn't one ultimate version that continued to show up year after year. With all of the other things that had to be on the table for the sake of tradition, sweet potatoes were the one thing my mother experimented with. I remember many tasty versions: one with carrots...another with pineapple...several sugar-y glazed versions.... Fortunately, my mother would never have dreamed of putting marshmallows on the table, so I have no memory of ever being subjected to that ghastly concoction.

Over the years I have served all kinds of delicious sweet potato dishes on the Thanksgiving tables of my adulthood—maple whipped... in a gratin with apple and dried fruit... a purée with roasted apples...etc. All are delicious (I love sweet potatoes). Unfortunately, none of these were candidates for inclusion in tomorrow's class because I have taught them all before in other classes—classes that are still in my current rotation. Not wanting to let a "favorites" class go by without sweet potatoes, I decided to come up with something new.

As I began to consider what to make, I immediately thought of mushrooms. Mushrooms are fabulous with some of the sweeter vegetables—corn...winter squash...and sweet potatoes. Mushrooms are also a nice savory change from the sweet types of things that are typically paired with sweet potatoes at the holidays.

I thought about making a classic layered gratin of thinly sliced sweet potatoes with a middle layer of sautéed mushrooms (similar in style to the sweet potato-turnip gratin I posted a couple of years ago), but discarded the idea for a couple of reasons. The first is that I teach these types of gratins a lot (they are delicious). The second has to do with the fact that they take a long time in the oven at a fairly low temperature. This makes them difficult to manage on Thanksgiving day. They can be made ahead and reheated, but they are at their absolute best when freshly made.

Then I remembered the unusual gratin of artichokes and mushrooms that I posted last Spring. The idea of this gratin—a shallow casserole with a layer of fully cooked chunky vegetables, drizzled with a touch of cream and topped with cheese and buttery breadcrumbs—seemed like a perfect style of dish for the Thanksgiving table. Every one of the components can be made ahead and the final dish takes less than half an hour in the oven. Sounds to me like a perfect recipe for a new Thanksgiving favorite.

The gratin made a delicious weeknight meal with a kale, apple and sausage salad.


Gratin of Sweet Potatoes & Mushrooms

1 1/2 T. unsalted butter
1 lb. Garnet or Jewel Sweet Potatoes, peeled and cut into 1/2- to 3/4-inch pieces
5 to 6 oz. (about 5 large) shallots, trimmed, peeled and sliced (lengthwise) 1/4-inch thick
1 T. picked fresh thyme leaves
1/3 c. chicken stock or water
Salt & pepper


1 T. Olive oil
1/2 T. unsalted butter
8 oz. crimini mushrooms, halved or quartered, depending on their size
Chicken Stock, water or dry Sherry

1/2 c. heavy cream
1 to 1 1/2 T. dry Sherry
2 to 2 1/2 oz. coarsely grated Gruyère cheese
1 c. coarsely ground fresh breadcrumbs
1 to 2 t. unsalted butter

Butter an 8- by 8-inch square (or equivalent sized) shallow gratin, casserole or baking dish. Set aside.

Melt 1 1/2 T. of butter in a medium-sized sauté pan (a pan just large enough to hold the sweet potatoes in a snug single layer) set over moderate heat. Add the sweet potatoes and shallots and toss to coat in the fat. Allow the vegetables to sizzle in the butter (increase the heat if they aren't sizzling), stirring now and then, until the shallots have begun to soften and the sweet potatoes are golden in a few spots—about five minutes.


Deglaze with the chicken stock—gently scraping with a flat wooden spoon or heat proof spatula—to release the caramelize bits from the bottom of the pan. Add the thyme and season well with salt & pepper. Reduce the heat to very low, cover and cook until the sweet potatoes are tender but not falling apart—about 15 to 20 minutes.

Stir the sweet potatoes once or twice as they cook. If the liquid evaporates too rapidly, add a bit more stock or water. When they are done, there should be a tablespoon or so of syrupy liquid in the bottom of the pan. If there is more than this, remove the lid from the pan and continue to cook until the excess liquid evaporates. Transfer the contents of the pan to the prepared baking dish.


While the sweet potatoes cook, sauté the mushrooms: In a medium sauté pan, heat the olive oil and butter over medium heat. When the butter is melted, increase the heat to medium-high. When the foam subsides, add the mushrooms and sauté until golden brown in spots and tender. Wait to add salt until the mushrooms have begun to brown. Deglaze the pan with a splash of stock, water or sherry. Reduce the liquid to a glaze. Scatter the mushrooms over the sweet potatoes, encouraging them to nestle down in among the sweet potatoes.


The gratin may be made to this point ahead. Let the vegetables cool, then cover and refrigerate. Bring the dish to room temperature before proceeding with the recipe.

Build the gratin: Combine the heavy cream and sherry. Drizzle over the vegetables. The liquid will only be about a quarter of an inch deep in the dish.  Scatter the cheese evenly over the surface of the vegetables followed by the breadcrumbs. Dot with butter. (Or, if you prefer, melt the butter and toss the breadcrumbs with the melted butter before spreading them over the cheese covered vegetables.)


Place the gratin in the upper third of a hot oven (400° to 425°) and bake until the crumbs are beginning to turn golden, the cream is bubbling and reduced around the edges and the gratin is hot in the center—about 20 minutes. If, when the gratin is hot through, the crumbs are not as brown as you would like, briefly run under the broiler.


Serves 6 as part of a Thanksgiving spread.

Notes:
• Recipe is easily doubled to fit a 13- by 9-inch (or equivalent sized) baking dish.
• For tips on how to prepare this type of gratin, check out the post for the artichoke gratin. The most important thing is to choose a proper style and size of baking dish. You can make this gratin any size you like as long as you choose a shallow dish and spread the cooked vegetables in a snug, single layer in that dish. Then simply drizzle in cream to a depth of about 1/4 to 1/3 of an inch.


If the vegetables are piled too deeply in the dish, you won't have a proper ratio of cream to vegetables. Moreover, the vegetables in the center will not be hot by the time the cream has begun to bubble and reduce. If allowed to reduce too long, the butter will break out of the cream and the dish will be oily instead of creamy.

Printable Recipe


Wednesday, October 31, 2012

Walnut Acorn Cookies



I feel that I should have a pumpkin recipe to post today for Halloween. Unfortunately, I have been busy with other things and didn't have any reason this year to make special Halloween treats. In any case, the day is now almost over. But if at this late hour of All Hallows' Eve you are still looking for something festive to make, there are several past posts that will fill the bill—Pumpkin Chocolate Chip Bars, Gingerbread Cupcakes with Cream Cheese frosting...or maybe a late night supper of Pumpkin Pancakes.

One of the things I have been working on for the past week or so is my upcoming Christmas cookie class. I have taught the same holiday cookie class for several years now and decided this summer that I should come up with a version 2.0. I planned to start testing cookies right away. Not surprisingly, other more pressing things kept coming up and I never got around to it. So here I am, about six weeks away from my class, testing away.

One of the cookies I will be teaching is something called a Walnut Acorn Cookie. It is a fiddly, festive looking cookie, made with nuts and chocolate—perfect for the Christmas cookie platter. But it also has a nice autumnal look to it...making it perfect for now.


I found the recipe for these cookies several years ago in a Christmas issue of Gourmet. Next to the recipe, there was a beguiling picture of a beautiful molded cookie that looked just like an acorn. I have had many years practice at mixing, forming and baking cookies and am willing to admit that I have some skill at it. So I was disappointed when mine didn't look like the picture. They spread more than I had expected and were somehow less refined than the image in the magazine. But they tasted very good. So I made some notes and decided I would return to them another year.

Several years later this particular cookie showed up in The Gourmet Cookie Book—a catalog of the single best cookie from every year Gourmet magazine was published. The Walnut Acorn Cookies made the cut for the year 2000. I felt much better when I saw that the cookie pictured in the book had spread even more than mine had. (I am mystified by the picture in the original issue.) Obviously I wasn't the only one who thought this cookie tasted pretty great.

The recipe I'm posting today is my amended version of this cookie. My changes mostly involve method: I brown the butter instead of just melting it. And I have borrowed a trick from Rose Beranbaum's Christmas Cookie Book for making a nut based cookie dough in the food processor by first grinding the nuts with the sugar and then processing in the butter (rather than creaming the sugar and butter and folding in the separately ground nuts with the flour). However, the most significant change I made was to omit the baking powder. It seemed out of place when I compared this cookie to the other molded Christmas cookies in my repertoire—and it seemed to me that it might be the source of the excessive spread.

I like my "new" version of this cookie very much. It has been so long since I made the original that I don't really know how the two compare. My version is very tender and has the added nuttiness of the browned butter, accentuated by a little extra salt. The texture is quite sandy—so much so that they could more appropriately be called Walnut Acorn Sablés. But no matter what you call them, I think they will make a beautiful and unusual addition to any cookie platter you might make during the holiday season to come.




Walnut Acorn Cookies

2 sticks (1/2 lb.) unsalted butter
1 t. vanilla
4 oz. (1 cup) walnuts, lightly toasted
1/4 c. light brown sugar (50 grams)
1/2 c. granulated sugar (100 grams)
1/2 t. salt
2 c. (8 oz.) all-purpose flour

2 oz. (1/2 cup) walnuts, toasted and very finely chopped
8 oz. semi-sweet chocolate


Melt the butter in a small, wide sauté pan set over medium heat. As the butter begins to sputter and pop, whisk occasionally. The butter solids will begin to turn brown. When the solids are golden brown and the butter has a pleasantly nutty aroma, transfer the butter to a heat proof container, or dip the bottom of the pan into a large bowl (or use the kitchen sink) of cool water to stop the cooking process. Set the butter aside and allow it to cool, stirring occasionally. When the butter has cooled, stir in the vanilla. Before proceeding with the recipe the butter should have cooled until it is opaque and thickened...but still liquid. If it solidifies, warm slightly.

In a food processor fitted with the metal blade, process the walnuts and the sugar until the walnuts are ground very finely.


Pour in the butter—scraping the pan well.  Process to combine.


Scrape the sides of the bowl and add the flour and salt. Pulse until the flour is incorporated and the dough is clumpy.


Transfer the clumps of dough onto a piece of plastic wrap and, using the plastic wrap, press into a thick disc. Wrap and refrigerate until firm—an hour or two.

Divide the dough into 6 equal portions. Working with 1 section at a time, and keeping the remainder of the dough refrigerated if the room is very warm, knead the dough between lightly floured hands until malleable. Roll the dough into a 10-inch sausage.


Cut into 10 1-inch segments.


Roll the segments into uniform balls.  To form an acorn, place a ball on a teaspoon and using your thumb and index finger, shape the dough into an oval with a rounded point at the tip of the spoon. There should be a ridge formed by your thumb and index finger down the center of the rounded triangle of dough.


Carefully remove the formed cookie from the spoon and place on a parchment lined sheet. Continue with the rest of the dough, spacing the formed cookies about an inch apart.

Bake the cookies for 14 to 16 minutes in a 325° oven until set and golden around the edges. Cool the cookies on the sheet for 10 minutes. Finish cooling on wire racks.

When the cookies are completely cool, melt the chocolate. Dip the wider end of the cookie in the chocolate and then in the finely ground walnuts. Place the decorated cookies on parchment lined sheets to allow the chocolate to set.


Store in an air tight container. Makes 5 dozen cookies.

(Recipe adapted from Gourmet Magazine, December 2000)

Printable Recipe




Friday, October 26, 2012

Butternut Squash, Tuscan Kale & Goat Cheese Quiche



A good friend recently gave me a gift from her late season garden. Her gift included a big bag of Tuscan Kale. I love Tuscan Kale. It is a relatively recent introduction to American palates and is slowly but surely becoming widely available—Whole Foods and The Community Mercantile regularly carry it. Unfortunately many national and regional grocery chains still do not. For some reason, no one at my farmers' market is growing it yet. No wonder this gift of the just harvested giant leaves was truly a treat.

As I considered what to make with my kale, I thought about a recipe that I posted last October for Butternut Squash, Kale & White Bean Soup. In recent weeks this post has surged in popularity. I must not be the only one who loves the combination of Kale and Winter Squash.

Since I happened to have a round of pastry dough on hand (left over from a class), I thought I would try this happy combination of bitter and sweet in a quiche. Kale is always good in a quiche—its slightly pungent quality goes well with the creamy custard—but this quiche surprised me. The addition of the sweet squash and caramelized onions along with the tangy goat cheese made for an exceptionally delicious...not to mention beautiful...tart.


If you have never prepared Tuscan Kale, you should know that the method I used in this recipe is fairly typical. It is first blanched, then squeezed dry and then warmed in a bit of olive oil. More often than not the olive oil is augmented with something flavorful and aromatic...garlic, hot pepper flakes, anchovy, lemon zest, etc. Tuscan Kale is a substantial green—even when subjected to a lengthy cooking process, it maintains its presence. Cooking it in boiling water before sautéing will help to reduce it to tenderness more quickly.

You could of course simply use the cooked kale without warming it in the oil, but it is greatly enhanced by this process. For my quiche, I added it to a pan of lightly caramelized onions. Taking the time to heat the kale until it sizzles in the oil infuses it with the sweet flavor of the caramelized onions. The quiche would lack some of its intriguing depth without this step.  And this quiche is so delicious, it is definitely worth the extra few minutes involved.




Butternut Squash, Tuscan Kale & Goat Cheese Quiche

1 large bunch Tuscan Kale (about 1/2 lb.), thoroughly rinsed and ribs removed


14 to 16 oz. butternut squash, peeled, seeded, quartered length-wise and sliced cross-wise 1/4-inch thick
1 to 2 T. olive oil
1 small onion (about 6 oz.), cut in a 1/-4-inch dice
1 clove garlic, peeled and minced
pinch of red pepper flakes
3 large eggs
1 1/2 cup heavy cream
salt and pepper to taste
1 10- to 10 1/2-inch tart shell, blind baked (Pâte Brisée recipe below)
2 oz. coarsely grated Gruyère
2 to 2 1/2 oz. soft goat cheese

Bring a large pot of well-salted water to a boil. Add the kale and cook until tender—about 7 to 10 minutes. Drain and spread on a baking sheet to cool. When cool, squeeze out the excess water and chop coarsely. Set aside.

Meanwhile, place the squash slices in a bowl and toss with just enough olive oil to coat. Season with salt & pepper. Spread the slices on a baking sheet and roast in a 425° to 450° oven until tender and beginning to brown—about 20 to 25 minutes.

While the squash roasts, heat the oil in a sauté pan set over medium heat. Sweat the onion until it is very tender and beginning to caramelize—15 minutes or so—regulating the heat as necessary to keep the onion from burning and covering the pan and lowering the heat if the onion begins to caramelize before it is tender (remove the lid once the onion is tender and allow it to begin to caramelize).


Add the garlic and pepper flakes and continue to cook until fragrant—a minute or two. Add the kale, toss with the onion-garlic mixture and cook until the kale has given up any remaining excess water and has begun to sizzle in the olive oil (add a bit more if the pan seems dry). Set aside to cool.

Place the eggs in a small bowl and whisk briefly to break up. Whisk in the cream until smooth. Season to taste with salt and pepper; set aside.

Build the quiche: Scatter the Gruyère over the bottom of the crust. Arrange half of the squash on top of the cheese.


Scatter the kale-onion mixture evenly over the cheese and top with the remaining squash. Crumble the goat cheese over all. Place the tart shell on a cookie sheet and pour the custard over the filling—be careful, all of the custard may not be necessary. Scatter the cheese over the top and transfer the baking pan to a preheated 375° oven.

Bake the quiche until the filling is set and the surface is a light golden color—about 25 to 30 minutes. If, when the custard is set (the tip of a knife slipped into the center should come out clean), the surface is not as golden as you would like, briefly run the quiche under the broiler until the cheese is light golden brown. Serves 8 as a first course or 6 as a light entrée.

Printable Recipe


(Savory Tart Dough)

1 2/3 c. all-purpose flour (190g)
1/2 t. salt
10 T. cold unsalted butter, cut into pieces (142g)
3 to 5 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. If, when you squeeze some of the mixture it holds together, the dough is finished. 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. Wrap the dough in plastic wrap, pressing into a thick disk. Chill for at least 30 minutes.

To roll out, let the dough warm up for a moment or two. Butter a 10- to 10 1/2-inch removable-bottom tart pan and set it aside. Flour the work surface and the rolling pin. Begin rolling from the center of the dough outward. After each stroke, rotate the dough a quarter turn—always making sure that there is sufficient flour to keep the dough from sticking. Keep rolling and turning until you have a round of dough that is at least 13 inches in diameter and has a thickness of no more than 1/8–inch. Brush off the excess flour and fold the dough circle in half. Slide the outspread fingers of both hands under the dough and gently lift it and transfer it to the prepared tart pan. Unfold the dough and ease it into the pan being careful not to stretch it. Cut the dough off flush with the edge of the pan by pressing gently against the edge. Chill the shell for at least 1/2 hour.

To blind bake: Line the pastry with aluminum foil (dull side out) or parchment paper, pressing it into the corners and edges. Add a layer of pie weights or dried beans. Bake in a 425° oven for 12 to 18 minutes. When the pastry begins to color on the edges, remove the foil and weights and continue baking until the pastry dries out and turns a light golden color for a partially baked shell, and a deeper amber for a fully baked shell. Let cool before filling.

Printable Recipe