Memorias españoles

I am quite fond of Spanish food. My first real introduction to the cuisine was through my host mother (my se ñora) during a semester studying abroad in Sevilla. I’d written on my housing form something to the effect that I like to cook and would prefer to live with a family where I could learn something about what Spaniards eat at home. Given the fact that we’d been warned how territorial Spanish women can be of their kitchens, and how many students would barely be permitted to ENTER that room, I got very, very lucky with my living assignment. Not only was my host mom, Chari, a wonderful cook, but she was more than happy to have me in the kitchen with her. Whichever of us woke up first in the morning would put the coffee on (which is how I came to own one of these). I was encouraged to assemble my own lunches on days when I wouldn’t be coming back to the apartment in Los Remedios–that alone set my experience far apart from that of my classmates. And I was very grateful for that.

Spanish food is often very simple. There are paellas, sure, for very special occasions, but more often than not, lunch (“la comida”) would be a pot of vegetables cooked until the flavors were properly mingled, with maybe some sausage mixed in, or else one egg for each of us cracked on top. The meal was ready when the egg had cooked through. Dessert, most days, was a piece of fruit or a cup of yogurt. My very favorite dish was salmorejo, a variation on gazpacho involving a mere 6 ingredients including salt (but discounting the traditional toppings of hard-boiled egg and chopped jamon serrano). I’ll have to write about salmorejo this summer. It is one of those recipes that counts as a revelation.

Anyway. This Spanish-inspired recipe from the Times for green beans with potatoes and garlic is of a kind with many things Chari cooked for me, and it was a perfect use of the pouch of frozen green beans that arrived one month from Winter Sun Farms.

Steam some green beans and potatoes, separately, until just cooked. Smash up some garlic and salt with the side of a knife and cook, barely, in a little olive oil. Add in the veggies and stir a bit, until the oil and garlic have coated everything nicely and things start to get a little brown. Season with salt (and pepper, she says, though in my mind, you should be using enough garlic to get a good level of spice–Spaniards love their garlic). Serve with diced hard-boiled egg scattered on top.

This would make a wonderful summer meal, eaten on a picnic blanket, with a bowl of salmorejo to accompany it. Note to self: come back to this recipe when tomatoes are in season.

V-Day

C. and I were in agreement that Valentine’s Day should be a low-key affair, which meant staying in and cooking dinner together. I know the nature of the holiday is to celebrate being a couple, but I took the liberty of planning the meal on my own. Since one half of the couple is participating in French Fridays with Dorie (and the other half is frequently enjoying the results), it made sense to incorporate this week’s pancetta green beans. And then let the rest of the menu follow naturally.

The rest of that menu being:

pan-seared scallops with wasabi butter sauce (using about 2/3 of the butter that’s called for because, seriously)
roasted garlic mashed potatoes (red potatoes, skins on, so we had something festively pink on the plate)

And for dessert, meringue cookies with toasted cocoa nibs. (We had to do SOMEthing with all the egg whites I amassed making ice cream for the upcoming cook club. And C. had never made meringues before.)

Hope you all had equally lovely nights this past Monday!

Yes, we have no okra today

I feel like I’ve been jerked around a little this week, and it’s only Tuesday.  Originally, we were told on Friday that we’d be getting edamame, which I love, but which is not really useful for dinner purposes. Soy beans are like cherry tomatoes, in that they are a great snack, but not really worth the effort to use in a proper recipe. 

Then, we were told Sunday afternoon that the edamame wasn’t quite ready, and we’d be getting peppers and okra (!) instead.  I’ve never cooked with okra, but I had a dear friend coming over for dinner who is a proper southern lady, and I figured that would be a wonderful opportunity to have my maiden voyage.  I found the perfect (though not remotely southern) recipe, from Yotam Ottolenghi’s New Vegetarian blog on the Guardian, for okra with tomato, lemon, and coriander. And I was really excited about it. I have half a dozen of his recipes flagged in my google reader as “to make,” and have yet to take a crack at any of them, in spite of Moody Food’s hearty endorsement of everything Ottolenghi.

And THEN. And then. The okra was not there. Non é arrivato.  Or if it did arrive, it was gone by the time I got to Lenox Hill (it was a “take it if you like” one, not an alotted amount).  But let it not be said that I cannot pivot on a dime when dinner is at stake.  I pouted, for sure, and made a small fuss (I am a youngest child and certain behaviors are expected of me), and then I remembered that I still had nearly a pound of green beans in the fridge from last week.  Okra is a seed pod; green beans are pods.  I don’t always need to rely on The Cook’s Thesaurus to rescue a recipe. 

I made a few other modifications to the recipe, but not many.  I used a dried, hot chili instead of a fresh mild one, and green (sweet) peppers instead of red.  I did manage to find preserved lemon, though (thwarted by Whole Foods, but Kalustyan’s had my back).  I think this recipe proves the axiom that the key to improvisational cooking is having a well-stocked kitchen.  And a CSA is infinitely helpful in that respect.  Also ready access to specialty markets…

Thus, we start with a pile of fresh vegetables and herbs, dried spices, a few preserved items, and some bulgur.

The onion gets sliced into thin half-moons and cooked over medium heat, in olive oil, with the coriander seeds, until soft but not brown.

Then, in go the sweet peppers, the chile, the parsley and some of the cilantro. Let it cook a bit before adding the tomatoes, paprika, salt, agave nectar (or sugar), and some water. Cover and simmer for 15 minutes. 

Meanwhile (my friend C. says any recipe that includes the word “meanwhile” is just not going to happen in her kitchen, but somehow I don’t find it to be a turn off. What else am I going to do while that pot simmers?), the green beans get tossed in a little olive oil and salt and roasted at 400F for 15 minutes. When they’re ready, add them into the pot, with the preserved lemon, the olives, and a bit more of the cilantro.

Stir it up, taste for seasoning, and then finish off with fresh lemon juice, the last of the cilantro, and the chopped mint leaves.  Serve over bulgur, which I cooked in vegetable broth, though water works just as well. Also note that if you are an informal household, the pitting of the olives is not necessary; just be sure to put a little bowl on the table so you and your guest can put the pits somewhere as you eat them.

Ottolenghi-style Green Beans with Tomatoes, Olives, and Lemon
Serves 3, though could be stretched if you don’t completely forget you were also going to make a green salad with pomegranate molasses dressing

4 Tbsp olive oil
1 1/2 tsp coriander seeds
1 medium onion, thinly sliced
2 bell peppers (or other sweet peppers), cut into smallish bites
1 dried red chile, chopped or ripped into pieces
1/3 c flat-leaf parsley, chopped
2 1/2 Tbsp cilantro, chopped
1 lb tomatoes, chopped
1 tsp paprika
1 1/2 tsp agave nectar (or 2 tsp sugar)
Salt
3/4 lb green beans, trimmed
3 Tbsp diced skin of preserved lemon
30 oil-cured black olives, pitted and chopped

1 1/2 Tbsp lemon juice
1 Tbsp mint leaves, chopped

1 cup bulgur

Put on a kettle of water, or a pot of the broth of your choice. Rinse the bulgur in a strainer and put it in a heat-proof bowl. When the water/broth comes to a boil, measure out 2 cups and pour it on top. Cover with a plate and let sit until the rest of the meal is ready.
Heat 2 Tbsp of olive oil in a heavy pot over medium heat. Add the onion and coriander and cook, stirring occasionally, about 10 minutes.
Set the oven to 400F. Toss the green beans with the other 2 Tbsp of oil, and a little salt. Spread them on a baking sheet and bake 15 minutes.
While that’s cooking, add to the pot the fresh & dried peppers, parsley, and 1 Tbsp of cilantro. Stir and let cook another 5 minutes.
Then add the tomatoes, paprika, salt, sugar, and a cup of water. Cover and simmer 15 minutes.
When the green beans are ready, add them to the pot with the preserved lemon, the olives, and another 1 Tbsp of cilantro. Stir and taste for salt.
Turn off the heat, squeeze in the lemon juice, and garnish with the last of the cilantro and the fresh mint.
Serve over bulgur (which might need to be strained). Some crusty bread goes well with this dish, too.

Freezer Bounty

A. and C. came over for dinner the week before Christmas, and we raided the stash of veggies in my freezer to concoct a meal for ourselves. Or more specifically, I let A. use whatever she wanted and we filled in the holes at Agata & Valentina, and ended up with a really delicious pasta dish with sausage and veggies in a tomato sauce. Then also a beet salad with goat cheese, pistachios, and parsley, and absinthe ice cream with chopped chocolate truffles.

I seem to be having some issues with blogger, because it doesn’t want me to reorder these photos. And since I’ve already put off posting this for several weeks, I think I’m going to surrender that battle. So in no particular order, here we go.

Here is the finished sauce:

A. had wanted more tomatoes, but I explained to her several times that all that was available in my kitchen was the pouch of what I’d gotten from Winter Sun Farms.

Here is my ice cream maker, hard at work on the base, with the chopped chocolate truffles waiting patiently for their turn to be added:

And the unassembled beet salad:

This is the sauce mid-preparation:

And some action shots of A. at work: