Finocchio Fantastico

Fennel is in season again which led me to recently playing with it in the kitchen. I have fond memories of using fennel prodigiously while cooking for the Petrarca family. They were extremely proud of their heritage and the traditional Italian cuisine was an important part of their meals. On the weekends, they enjoyed entertaining extended family and friends - and the meal could go on for hours.

If the weather was conducive, we would often have brunch or dinner at one large table spread outside on the terrace in the cooling shade of the enormous elm trees. As the day wore on, sometimes Tom Petrarca would get into the mood, pull out his accordion, and play a bit. It wouldn’t take long before he’d break into song, and soon everyone would be singing along.

Fennel was a major part of these family meals. The wine would flow, and dessert could wind on while espresso was served along with dessert wines and liqueurs. We’d offer a selection of specialty desserts, and trays of cookies and sweets would be passed. Then, amidst plenty of oohs and ahs, their beloved fennel would be set in the center of the table with a sampling of specialty cheeses – plus assorted nuts, with picks and crackers for casual shelling.

It’s no wonder fennel makes me smile.  Besides the obvious snacking benefits, its bright licorice flavor is especially wonderful raw in salads and salsas. However, on this day I wanted to create a tomato sauce richly laced with vegetables and complemented with some spicy meatballs - and fennel was the object of my intentions.

I wasn’t disappointed either. The sweetness of the fennel and carrot was the perfect balance to the acid of the tomatoes.  The licorice flavor was slightly muted, even though I elected to not overcook the sauce. Fortunately, I added fennel seed to the meatball mixture, which provided the perfect balance in this duet. I also used my convection oven to finish the meatballs, and wondered why I hadn’t thought of this sooner. They browned evenly and cooked in the amount of time that it took to prepare the sauce and simmer it briefly. At this point, I set it all aside and allowed it to cool.

When I was ready to start dinner, I heated the sauce, added the meatballs and simmered the sauce for about 20 minutes; just enough to infuse the sauce and cook the meatballs thoroughly. The finished sauce had a balanced spiciness and a lovely texture - and the carrots and fennel retained their slight al dente quality. Served with linguine and a shave of Parmesan: fantastico!

Tomato and Fennel Sauce with Meatballs and Pasta

24 oz. Meatballs (see below), browned well
2 tablespoons olive oil
1/2 onion, chopped
2 cloves garlic, crushed
1 small bulb fennel, trimmed and chopped
1 whole carrot, peeled, chopped
2 teaspoons mixed dried herbs, savory, oregano, sage
2 - 14 oz cans tomatoes chopped, in puree
1 - 8 oz can tomato sauce
2 tablespoons fresh oregano
1/2 cup Parmesan cheese, shaved
1 pound linguine, cooked al dente and drained well

Meatballs:
24 ounces lean ground beef
1/2 onion minced
2 cloves garlic, crushed
1 egg, beaten
1/2 teaspoon crushed red pepper
1/2 teaspoon fennel seeds
1 teaspoon dried oregano
2 slices day-old bread, soaked in water, squeezed dry
1/3 cup shredded Parmesan cheese
salt and pepper
olive oil

Preheat oven to 400 degrees: use convection if available. Line baking sheet with foil, drizzle with olive oil.

Combine meatball ingredients with hands and form into approx. 1" balls and place on baking sheet, roll them in olive oil and bake in oven for about 10 minutes. When they begin to brown turn the meatballs and bake for additional 10 minutes or until browned on all sides. Remove from the oven and allow to cool.

Meanwhile in large pot, heat the oil and saute the onion and garlic until aromatic. Trim the fennel root and leaves, remove the tough outer portion, and chop like celery. Add the fennel and carrot and cook for 4-5 minutes stirring occasionally, until vegetable begin to soften, adding the herbs as they cook. Add the tomatoes and sauce, stir well, simmer 10-15 minutes. Remove from heat.

When ready to serve, reheat the tomato sauce and add the meatballs; simmer for 15-20 minutes. Stir in fresh herbs and simmer briefly. Serve with pasta and fresh Parmesan cheese. Serves 4 ~~

Faith and Begorrah!

For this Irish lass, when it comes to holidays it doesn’t get much better than good ole St. Paddy’s Day. It’s largely connected to my childhood and my stepfather, Henry Patrick Keenan, who took his Irish heritage very seriously. I remember him whistling a lot and two of his favorites were My Wild Irish Rose and O Danny Boy, so it’s no surprise that Irish tunes still get me mushy and teary-eyed in a heartbeat.

We lived outside of Boston in those days and the annual St. Patrick’s Day festivities always included mandatory wearing of the green, parades, and neighborhood gatherings. It was a happy time, there was always a big Corned Beef and Cabbage spread with plenty of singing as the night wore on.

My ‘traditional’ Corned Beef and Cabbage Dinners have evolved over the years, depending on the cut and quality of corned beef available. First, rounds were popular, and then briskets, this year I’m not sure what I got, but it was heavily marbled with fat. In the past I wouldn’t have even considered this unlikely choice, but since it was temptingly reasonable I gave it a try. Due to a couple of reasons at least, it was excellent:

1. Begin by slowly bringing the corned beef, covered in cold water to a boil; reduce the heat and simmer gently for 15-20 minutes. Skim the residue from the top and discard it. Add fresh spices as indicated and slowly simmer the corned beef partially covered, 50 minutes per pound, until tender when prodded with a fork. Gently remove the beef from stock, drain and allow it to cool; cover and chill until the next day. Strain the stock, cool, and refrigerate as well. The next day, de-fat the stock and trim excess fat from the beef.

2. Use the stock to simmer the vegetables. Prepare the glaze ahead, brush onto top of corned beef and bake until crispy on top. Cover beef and let stand about 10 minutes before slicing. Serve accompanied with mustard and horseradish sauces.

Surely, you’ll be singing When Irish Eyes are Smiling, too!

Corned Beef and Cabbage with Currant-Sage GlazeThis shrinks down considerably
4 pounds corned beef, round is leaner
water to cover
1 bay leaf
3 chili peppers, small
1/4 teaspoon peppercorns, celery seed, mustard seed, coriander, thyme, each
1/8 teaspoon cloves
2 cloves garlic, smashed
6 red potatoes
2 onions, quartered
4 carrots, cut into large pieces
3 turnips, quartered
1 small cabbage, 6 wedges
Red Currant Glaze:1 jar jelly (about 8 oz.) currant, guava or similar
1/4 cup dijon mustard
2 tablespoons sage leaves, julienned

Place meat in pot with water to cover, bring to boil, simmer 15-20 minutes, and skim of any scum or grey matter collected on top with spoon. Add seasonings through garlic, cover, and simmer til tender about 3 hours. Adjust seasoning. Can be done ahead at this point - remove beef from pot to drain.

Add vegetables: in the simmering stock add carrots, turnips, onions and cook about 15 minutes, add potatoes and cook additional 15 minutes approx. Add the cabbage wedges just prior to serving and cook 10-15 minutes, or until tender.
For glaze: heat the jelly in microwave until it begins to melt, stir in the mustard and combine, add the sage. Set aside until needed.

To glaze the beef: Preheat oven to 350-375 degrees. Place the drained beef on baking dish, trim excess fat if any, brush with glaze. Bake until hot 20-40 minutes, depending on size; brush again with glaze. Continue until crispy. Slice meat and serve with vegetables. Ladle a bit of hot broth on meat and vegetables, or serve it on the side if desired. Provide hot mustard and/or horseradish. Serves 4 or more. ~~

Bolognese: Not your Mother’s Spaghetti Sauce

It was a cold snowy afternoon and my warm kitchen beckoned, urging me to bring forth the big pot and commence filling it with some sort of sultry, scintillating, simmering concoction – a steamy dinner in the making. There’s nothing more cozy and reassuring on a chilly winter day than a gurgling pot of goodness broadcasting its tantalizing aromas, each expectant stir more promising than the last. Ah, yes, this is pasta weather at its finest and a hearty Bolognese Sauce would surely do the trick.

The old nagging debate returns as I contemplate my course of action, “Do I add the milk or not?” Indeed, why should I? Does it really matter? According to Marcella Hazan, a leading culinary authority on the Emilia-Romagna region of Italy, the answer is “Yes, definitely!” In fact, Marcella adds the milk or cream after browning the meat and then allows it to reduce down before finally stirring in the tomatoes and wine. She claims this prior dairy addition counteracts any offensive acid from these two spunky partners and ultimately results in a more refined and balanced sauce.

With knife poised I begin working from 3 different recipes: my own long-time favorite, a recent clipping from Cooking Light magazine, and Marcella’s version. My recipe is one I’ve used many times, gleaned from a yacht owner utterly passionate about his Bolognese Sauce. My aim is to update mine and at the same time introduce a bit more authenticity.

A cautionary note: this meat sauce is not your mother’s Spaghetti Sauce. If yours was anything like my mother’s, throw those ideas out the window right now. Well, o.k., avoid any snowy blast and metaphorically toss them.

Ràgu, as it is affectionately referred to in the Emilia-Romagna, is frequently made with pork and/or beef. I prefer this mostly pork combination but I’ve also used portions of turkey or veal out of necessity. The addition of carrot is a signature ingredient; the sweetness is yet another nod to reducing that dreaded acid build-up.

You’ll notice the herbs and spices move toward the sweet/savory realm, reminiscent of early European cuisine where these were often used as powerful preservatives. Wouldn’t you know, Marcella keeps it simple with just a few grates of fresh nutmeg. With a judicious hand I opt for my favs: sage, a smattering of thyme and oregano, a dash of allspice and nutmeg.

Our sauce in Italy would slow cook 3 hours or longer thus ensuring an impeccably well balanced Ràgu. Back on the ranch, after an hour or so of burbling and voracious stirring, my Bolognese is meaty, intensely robust and quite thick. The color is exquisite pale sienna, the aroma utterly addictive, the flavor well balanced, lingering, unique and unforgettable. As far as I am concerned, it is well done.

The pasta of choice according to Marcella is tagliatelle or perhaps a tortellini, both worthy classics. Wide flat ribbons are ideal for supporting a thick sauce such as ours, and on this snowy winter day, fettuccine is conveniently my perfect candidate.

Bolognese Sauce A mild and meaty Ràgu from Bologna, Italy

1 tablespoon olive oil
1 onion, diced
1 carrot, diced
1 stalk celery, diced
3 cloves garlic, minced
1/2 teaspoon crushed red pepper
24 ounces ground pork and ground beef, total, or any combo with veal or turkey
1 teaspoon salt
1/2 teaspoon pepper
1 cup milk
1/4 teaspoon nutmeg, allspice
1/2 teaspoon each: sage, thyme, oregano
14 ounces canned tomatoes, in liquid, chopped
8 ounces tomato sauce
1/2 cup white wine

16 ounces tagliatelle, fettuccine, or tortellini
1 cup Parmesan cheese, grated

In sauce pot heat oil add onion and sauté til tender, 3-4 minutes. Add carrot, celery, garlic and red pepper and cook 2 minutes, til softened.

Add the meat, salt and pepper and brown well, drain of excess fat. Lower heat, simmer the milk, nutmeg and allspice til almost evaporated. Add the herb sand toss to combine and become aromatic. Add the tomatoes, tomato sauce and wine. Bring to a boil, reduce to very low simmer, partially cover and cook for about 1 to 1 1/2 hours, until very thick. Stir as needed. Adjust flavors.

Meanwhile cook pasta in salted water, drain. Place pasta in shallow bowls, spoon about 3/4 cup over each serving. Pass Parmesan cheese. Serves 6~~

Hi Ho, Silver!

It's time to get back up on that pony and ride again. The holidays are over and I've simply run out of excuses. I have been away from the Blogosphere too long and I've dearly missed my favorite therapeutic indulgence, the enduring challenge of writing about food and sustainability.

It was easy this past summer and fall. The discoveries and revelations spun from the heady abundance of fresh, luscious produce created a sense of urgency worth sharing. Now, with winter in full thrust, thoughts and experiences surrounding comfort food seem far less compelling. Whatever!

I've noticed my style of eating (and yes, weight, too) has changed greatly with my shift in locales and seasons. When it was blazing hot outside, salads and lighter meals made sense. These days I have to work at my vegetable intake. The solution lately has been cabbage, a good thing since the markets are full of it. In my fridge, there is typically one rolling around, forgotten and patiently waiting for its number to come up. It's especially handy in slaw form, a great crunchy addition to tacos and burgers.

A bit of further digging on the merits of cabbage tells me that it is high in vitamin C - a nice winter benefit. Also, the generic green cabbage will store 1 to 2 months in a cool place; a positive addition to soups and stews. I'm reminded of the French expression of endearment, ma petite chou, or ‘my little cabbage’. Very classy, indeed.

In this colder climate, I’m eating more, and thinking about foods I haven't considered for years: cassoulets and chowders, and of course, things with cabbage... like Golabki, or Polish stuffed cabbage. I like making these little rolls when the need to play with my food emerges. This is a great social activity with kids or just a wonderful meditational exercise. The bit of brown sugar and raisins on the finish is reflective of the Polish influence.

Polish Stuffed Cabbage Rolls
Golabki

Rolls:
1 cabbage head
1 pound ground beef
1/2 pound ground turkey
1 cup cooked long grained rice
1/2 cup onion, finely diced
1/2 cup celery, diced
2 cloves garlic, crushed
½ tsp. salt and pepper, approx.

Topping:
14 oz. can tomatoes, crushed
1/2 teaspoon dried dill
salt to taste
1 1/2 tablespoons brown sugar, approximate
2 tablespoons raisins, approximate

Separate and blanch cabbage leaves briefly in boiling water. Drain and set aside. Reserve @ 1 cup water. Pre-cook the rice, if not readily available.

Oil 9x12" casserole dish or dutch oven. Place unusable leaves on bottom of dish, with a bit of available sliced onion, an additional light sprinkling of dill and salt and pepper.

For the rolls: combine filling items. Place heaping tablespoonful of stuffing at largest end of leaf, roll and fold sides in, and finish roll. Place one layer of rolls close together, seam side down in dish. Add reserved water to moisten bottom of dish.

Top rolls with crushed tomatoes, and season with dill and salt and pepper. Sprinkle lightly with sugar and raisins. Cover the dish with foil and bake at 325 degrees for about 1 1/2 hours. Serves 4-6~~