The perfect combination of crusty and creamy

This has to be one of my favorite ways to make potatoes. The whole family loves it, too, since it looks like pie. There is a decided pie-bias in this house — Daughter #1 requires it instead of birthday cake. This method avoids the cream and butter of mashed potatoes (not that I don’t love them, any day of the week) and it can be varied according to what’s on hand, in the garden, or in the imagination. The one I’ve made here is almost a stovetop potatoes au gratin, since I’ve used gruyere. I didn’t add cream, but one of these days I just might.

Gruyere has such a nice, mellow nutty flavor that pairs beautifully with potatoes

Typically a galette is a free-form tart made with a crust of some sort, a quick, low-skill wrap-up of crust and filling. It has come to also refer to a pile of potatoes in a pan, cooked enough to have a crust and resemble a pie. It’s a wonderful side to roasted meat or sausages, or with a fried egg on top for breakfast or brunch. Even by itself it’s a hearty dish.

Potato Galette with Gruyere | 4 to 6 servings

I like a basic Russet for the galette, since it browns nicely and gets tender and melting on the inside.

3 large baking potatoes, such as Russets
1/4 pound gruyere
1/2 white onion, minced
5 to 7 fresh sage leaves
1 tablespoon olive oil
Salt and freshly ground black pepper

Thoroughly rinse and pat dry the potatoes. With a sharp knife, thinly slice into rounds.

The trick to nice slices is a sharp knife -- put an edge on yours just before slicing, or use a mandoline slicer

Grate the gruyere. Mince the onions, and chop the sage leaves.

The onions and sage give the potato pie a rustic depth

Heat the olive oil in a large pan, preferably non-stick. Using a little more than a third of the potato slices, make the first layer.

Start from the center and work your way to the outer edge

When the first layer is complete, press firmly on the layer to flatten it. Distribute half the onion, cheese and sage over the first layer. Sprinkle liberally with salt and pepper.

This helps to press the potatoes flat onto the pan, making a nice even crust on the bottom -- which becomes the top!

Distribute the onions evenly over the layer

Again, a nice even distribution

Using half of the remaining potatoes, make another layer. Press to flatten. Distribute the remaining onion, cheese and sage over the layer, and sprinkle with salt and pepper.

This is the second potato layer

And this is the remaining cheese, onion and sage

Make a final potato layer and press firmly. Sprinkle with salt and pepper.

Potatoes absorb salt, especially, like a sponge

Cover the pan and cook the potatoes over medium low heat until tender when pierced with a fork, about 30 minutes. Give the pan a firm shake to loosen the bottom crust. Invert onto a plate.

Place the plate over the pan and invert quickly and decisively!

Serve hot. And hey, it’s almost pie.

Warm layers of potato and melting gruyere

©2010 Kitchenelly. All Rights Reserved.

Step away from the mashed potatoes

My last post was for Braised Short Ribs, which I pictured nestled on a cushion of puréed carrots. I really expected to show the ribs perched on a Half Smashed with Garlic Baked Potato, which is how I served them recently. But I was sidetracked by the impulse to bring a bright color to the plate, and as it turns out the carrots have a gentle sweetness that goes really well with the beef. This couldn’t be easier, and different, and flavorful, and good-for-you, so it has a lot going for it. An elegant base for roasted chicken, grilled lamb, a pork chop. I may have just caused a potato unemployment problem in my kitchen.

Silky Carrot Purée | 6 servings

10 to 12 large carrots, approximately 2 pounds
1/2 large white onion, minced
2 cups chicken broth
2 cups water
1 6-inch sprig fresh thyme or a pinch of dried thyme
2 tablespoons olive oil
2 tablespoons heavy cream or half & half
Salt and freshly ground pepper

Peel the carrots and slice them into 1/4-inch rounds. Mince the onion and set aside until needed.

Slice the onion into thin strips lengthwise, hold the onion together and slice crosswise -- an easy way to mince

Bring the chicken broth and water to a boil and drop in the carrots and thyme sprig.

The chicken broth deepens the flavor of the cooked carrots

Cook the carrots until just tender, 15 to 20 minutes. Drain, reserving 3/4 cup of the cooking liquid.

Heat the olive oil in a large pan and wilt the onions, about 5 minutes.

Cook until tender but not browning

Add the drained carrots and cook another 5 minutes.

Cook the carrots another 5 minutes, just to caramelize them a little

Put the carrots and onions in the bowl of a food processor and purée until quite smooth, adding only enough of the reserved liquid to get a smooth purée. Add the cream and combine.

Drizzle in the cooking liquid to get a nice smooth texture that's not overly wet

Season the carrots with salt and pepper and serve hot.

Step aside, potatoes.

Kelly McCune © 2010

©2010 Kitchenelly. All Rights Reserved.

Taking the baked potato to a new level

I made short ribs the other day for guests, and was looking for an interesting potato preparation to go along with them. I considered mashed potatoes, then garlic mashed potatoes, then baked potatoes, and even scalloped potatoes. I finally landed on the idea of a combination of all of those things, a sort of deconstructed version of mashed, scalloped and baked.

Baking the potato allowed me to serve only half on each plate — with the creamy garlic sauce and the short rib that seemed rich enough. I’m starting with the baked potato here, and I’ll have the short ribs in the next post. This is so simple and low maintenance, but it raises the baked potato far above its humble station. By the way, everyone ate the potato skin, it was that good.

Baked Potatoes with Garlic Cream | 4 to 6 servings

This serves six eaters if everyone gets a half potato. There might have been a call for seconds if the main dish wasn’t rich. Russets are great for baking since the flesh becomes light and fluffy when cooked, perfect for the garlic cream.

3 large russet potatoes
4 large garlic cloves
2 tablespoons butter
1/2 cup heavy cream
Pinch of salt
Minced parsley

Preheat the oven to 425°F. Scrub the potatoes and pierce them 5 or 6 times with a skewer.

Plain ol' russets make the best baked potato

I have a metal skewer that I always use for piercing potatoes, but any skewer will work just fine

Place the potatoes right on the rack in the preheated oven. Cook them for 1 hour and 15 minutes. This makes a nice crunchy skin.

While the potatoes are cooking, prepare the garlic cream. Smash the garlic cloves with the side of a knife and peel away the paper. Trim the root.

This is an easy way to remove the paper -- it cracks away from the garlic clove when you give the side of the knife a good thump

Melt the butter in a small saucepan and cook the garlic cloves over very low heat for 30 minutes. They should not burn or even brown — only color slightly.

I bent an ordinary fork to make this task easy -- shows how often I cook garlic like this in my little saucepan

Smash the soft garlic with a fork or masher. Add the heavy cream and salt.

Sometimes heavy cream is just what works best

Mix well and continue cooking at a very low simmer over low heat for another 15 minutes. The cream will reduce slightly.

When the potatoes are done, slice them in half lengthwise. Mash them slightly with a fork and spoon some of the cream over the top.

Just three or four mashes to open the potato up for the cream

Sprinkle with parsley and serve hot.

(Next time I think I’ll try them with chives…)

Kelly McCune © 2010

©2010 Kitchenelly. All Rights Reserved.

Deep satisfaction in deep winter

I’ve had my share of winter this year. Okay, I know here in Southern California it’s nothing compared to what my pals in North Carolina, D.C., and even Dallas (8 inches!) have had to contend with. I did dip into it, though, with two trips to Oklahoma, each time blanketed by a “freak” snowstorm that was getting less and less unusual. And back here at home we finally have rain.

It was on one of those rainy days that I pinned down this butternut squash tart idea. A friend and I were talking about it (she’d had a good one at a pastry shop and we wondered how it was made), but I had a non-meat eater coming that evening for dinner so I needed to work it out. My mind will often go completely blank when I have to cook for a particular diet (like the time I could only think of beef stew with stout or coq au vin for my teetotaling friends…it’s like a tic! Don’t even ask me to cook for Passover — all I can think of is dairy, dairy, dairy). This is a savory tart, like quiche, but made with ricotta and goat cheese rather than egg, cream and cheese. It has the rustic flavor of something comforting for a cold winter night — the ones we have left, that is.

Butternut Squash Tart | 1 tart

I think you could make this with an acorn squash, but I haven’t tried it yet.

1 unsweetened pie crust (make the Slightly Sweetened Pie Crust but omit the sugar)
1 small butternut squash, about 2 1/4 pounds
Olive oil
Small pinch of herbs de Provence
Salt and freshly ground pepper
3 or 4 large shallots
1 15-ounce container of ricotta (whole milk or part-skim)
1 egg
1 tablespoon heavy cream
Small pinch of dried thyme
1.5 ounces plain goat cheese
2 tablespoon raw pumpkin seeds

Prepare the pie crust, and have the prepared crust in the refrigerator.

Preheat the oven to 400°F. Trim the bottom of the squash, scoop out the seeds, and slice into 1/3-inch rounds.

Trim off the bottom end of the squash

Scrape out the seeds and pulp

Slice into rounds -- use a large and sharp knife

Arrange the slices on a baking sheet and lightly oil each slice. Sprinkle with herbs de Provence and salt and pepper.

Oil each slice, top and bottom, to keep it from sticking to the pan

I often use (recycled!) foil or parchment to keep my clean-up to a minumum

Roast the squash in the preheated oven until browning, about 20 minutes.

Squash is done when it is tender and browning, particularly on the pan side

Set aside until needed.

Line the cold pie crust with parchment or foil and weight with pie weights, rice or dried beans. Cook in the 400°F oven for 8 minutes.

I still haven't gotten pie weights, which I think would be worth it

Remove the weights and prick the par-baked crust several times with a fork.

This keeps the crust from distorting, and par-baking it prevents it from getting soggy

Cook another 5 minutes. Set aside the partially baked crust until needed. Reduce the heat to 375°F.

Peel and thinly slice the shallots. In a skillet, heat a little olive oil and cook the shallots until soft and coloring, about 10 minutes. Season with salt and pepper.

Cook them just until they get a little color

Spread the cooked shallots on the bottom of the par-baked pie crust.

Shallots have such a nice flavor -- something like a combination of garlic and sweet onion

In a bowl, mix together the ricotta, cream, egg, and thyme and season with a little salt and pepper.

Beat together until well blended

Spread the filling over the shallots. Break off small blobs of goat cheese and press them into the filling at regular intervals.

Your fingers are the best tool for this task

Arrange the roasted butternut squash on top of the filling.

Cover the top of the filling

I like the roasted rings on top, but any arrangement is fine

Press the squash gently down onto the filling. Bake in the 375°F oven for 35 minutes.

While the tart is cooking, toast the pumpkin seeds: coat them lightly with olive oil, sprinkle with salt, and roast in the hot oven for less than 5 minutes. When they begin to pop they will only need a minute more.

Rule Number 19: Never walk away from roasting nuts or seeds -- they burn when you turn your back!

Sprinkle the toasted seeds over the cooked tart. Serve warm.

Takes that leaky roof right off my worryin’ mind.

Kelly McCune © 2010

©2010 Kitchenelly. All Rights Reserved.

A play on shapes: long & skinny, little ovals, and rectangles

The phrase “company’s coming” used to be popular when dinner guests were expected. Was that just Oklahoma? I don’t hear it said any more, but we do have “people over.” And there is usually a buffer snack, designed to stave off hunger if the thing in the oven is taking forever to cook and to provide a window for latecomers. But I’ve been fretting about this pre-game warm-up for a while now, since I’d found myself in a decided rut. I had slipped into the soft cheese/hard cheese/crackers array, with a possible olive or nut mix tagging along. Don’t get me wrong, I love to nibble exactly those things before dinner, especially washed down with a crisp but not too dry white wine. But something was missing.

I feel like a middle-schooler here, trying to justify why only the Converse® Design Your Own sneaker will do. I can give you soooo many reasons why I need something new:

1. I’m sure I’ve served the exact same cheese 10 straight times
2. My living room sofa is challenging since it’s really a day bed and one can’t lean in to the cheese board like they might want
3. I have only one cheese slicer

4. Even I am getting sick of that Spanish nut mix from Whole Foods
5. I can’t leave well-enough alone
6. I have some cool little wooden plates that are languishing in the cabinet

So out came the plates. I decided to arrange the appetizers on the plates and serve them that way; now everyone could have their own small plate to ponder, replete with goodies to nosh on at will. Sometimes it’s nice not to have to share.

Individual Appetizer Plates | 6 plates

The plates above are composed of breadsticks, roasted Lacinato kale (I like this variety for its mild flavor and non-fibrous rib), goat cheese “olives,” real olives, pan de higo and seared halloumi cheese with sage. Play with shapes and flavors and textures — but do join me out here, up and out of that rut. And on the day bed.

1 bunch Lacinato kale (also called Tuscan kale or dinosaur kale)
Olive oil
Sea salt
Parmesan or Romano cheese
8 ounces chevre
1 tablespoon zahtar
1 tablespoon smoked bittersweet paprika
8 ounce package (approximately) Halloumi cheese (sheep and goat milk cheese from Cyprus)
8 fresh sage leaves
Freshly ground black pepper
Pan de Higo (Spanish fig & almond cake)
Breadsticks
Assorted olives

Preheat the oven to 275°F. Rinse the kale, trim off part of the stem, and dry well.

This variety is beautiful -- a deep blue-green

Use a paper towel to dab the kale as dry as possible before coating it with oil -- this keeps it from steaming rather than roasting

Rub oil on your hands and then coat the kale lightly with the oil

If you have a oil sprayer, use that to lightly coat the leaves

Sprinkle the kale with salt and roast in the oven until very crisp and dry and slightly browning, about 30 minutes. Sprinkle with freshly grated Parmesan or Romano cheese and set aside until needed.

The kale browns slightly but maintains its great color

Press a spoonfuls of chevre into oval shapes, making 12 “olives.”

Goat cheese is crumbly but it will hold its shape if you press it together

Put the zahtar on a flat surface and roll 6 of the goat cheese olives in it until coated. Use more zahtar if needed.

These make delightful little bites, and no crackers are needed

Coat the other 6 goat cheese olives with the paprika.

Smoked paprika has a wonderful depth of flavor and a slight sweetness

Prepare the halloumi last, since it is best served warm. The other elements can be made in advance.

Halloumi comes packaged in a block of approximately 8 ounces -- it has a salty, feta-like flavor and a texture something like mozzarella

Slice the halloumi into 1/3-inch slices. You will have 6 to 8 slices

Trim the end pieces so they will lie flat in the pan

Heat a large pan, either cast-iron or non-stick, over medium heat. Have a sage leave ready for each slice of halloumi.

Place the sage top side facing out -- it will attach to halloumi as it cooks

Place the cheese, sage leaf side down, in the hot pan.

No need for oil, since the halloumi cooks in its own brine

Brown the halloumi, sage side down, for about 4 minutes, checking to make sure it doesn’t get too brown. Turn and cook another 4 minutes.

Halloumi has a high melting temperature, which is why is can be pan-seared or grilled

Sprinkle with freshly ground pepper and serve warm. Slice 6 pieces of pan de higo. Arrange each plate with a breadstick, a piece of roasted kale, 2 chevre “olives,” a couple of actual olives, a slice of browned halloumi and a slice of pan de higo.

Pass the vino, per favore.

Kelly McCune © 2010

©2010 Kitchenelly. All Rights Reserved.

A lot of underground growers

No teenager wants to hear that there will be lettuce in the vegetable soup. They barely want to hear about vegetable soup, period. That was my — negative — reaction back in high school, when I was informed that this concoction was on the menu. I’d had a long day, slaving over a pep rally, AmCiv and glee club. My mother was taking a class with a local cooking teacher, Aileen Martin, who’d been trained in France and was very French in her approach to food. Mom says she lived next door to *Julia Child* when she lived in France, and I’ve found her name referenced in one of Simone Beck’s papers. She was the real thing, in any case, and made a big impression. And this was one of her recipes.

That was the year my mother came home with a Cuisinart, a mandoline, a baguette pan, a hinged pain de mie pan, and sharp-as-hell carbon knives. It was also the year that my own culinary eyes were opened, and to this day I preserve the “AM” embossed sheets that were handed out at mom’s lessons. There was an excellent and atmospheric kitchenware store in Tulsa (owned by the same Ralph Blaine who penned the lyrics to “Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas”) where all these kitchen goodies were purchased. I still covet her original Cuisinart since it has no safety attachments whatsoever. And I’d love to have that store in my neighborhood.

It’s been years since I’ve made this particular stew, but I thought of it when I decided to conjure up some cold weather here in Los Angeles. I’ve also made some changes to it, but the lettuce stays. It makes the stew beautiful and controversial. And my teenager loved it.

Add one cozy fire, a couple of friends or family, and combine well

Winter Vegetable Stew | 6 to 8 servings

7 cups chicken stock, preferably homemade
Pinch of dried thyme (about 1/2 teaspoon)
3 leeks
3 carrots
3 parsnips
3 turnips
2 potatoes
4 ounces leaf spinach (about 3 cups)
1 head Boston (or butterhead) lettuce, green or redleaf
2 tablespoons butter
2 tablespoons flour
Salt and freshly ground black pepper
1/2 cup heavy cream
Minced parsley

In a large stockpot, begin heating the chicken stock with the thyme while you prepare the vegetables.

Trim most of the green leaves off the leeks, trim off the root, and cut in half lengthwise. Rinse well, separating the layers to clear out any grit.

Leeks hold a lot of grit between the layers, so rinse well

Slice into 1-inch pieces.

Leeks give a subtle onion plus garlic flavor -- Nero thought it improved his singing voice so he ate them by the bushel

Cut the carrots, parsnips, turnips and potatoes into rough cubes, without peeling.

Skip peeling, and it will add even more nutrients to the stew

It's the first frost that gives the parsnip its characteristic sweetness, making it the king of winter veggies

Look for small but heavy turnips -- large, old ones are starchy

Rinse the spinach well and coarsely chop.

I used baby spinach leaves here and didn't removed the stems

Rinse the Boston lettuce and break into large pieces. Set the spinach and lettuce aside.

To the almost simmering stock add the leeks, carrots, parsnips, turnips and potatoes, reserving the spinach and lettuce till the end.

The pot will seem very crowded

Cook over medium-low heat until the vegetables are just tender, about 30 minutes. Take care not to boil the liquid — vegetables are at their best if cooked gently, like poaching, with just a shimmer on the top of the broth. This keeps them from becoming shaggy.

While the vegetables are cooking, melt the butter in a small saucepan over medium-low heat. When it foams up, add the flour and whisk to combine.

This is just a basic roux to slightly thicken the stew

Whisk and cook the mixture for 2 minutes, without letting it brown.

The one-to-one mixture of flour and butter is the basis of any roux

Ladle broth from the stew pot into the mixture and whisk to combine. Reduce the heat to low and add enough broth to have a creamy roux. Turn off the heat and set aside until needed.

Hot broth is more easily incorporated into the butter/flour mixture than a cold liquid

In minutes you have a smooth white or blond roux that will thicken any soup or be the base for many cream and cheese sauces

When the vegetables are just tender, pour the roux into the stew and stir in gently. Season well with salt and pepper.

It just adds a little body to the broth

Add the chopped spinach and Boston lettuce. Press the leaves into the broth.

It will look like it won't fit, but use a spoon to press the lettuce down into the stew

The greens quickly wilt and incorporate into the mix

Cook the stew another 5 minutes only. Stir in the heavy cream and add more salt and pepper if needed.

A beautful pot of goodness

Heat for a minute or two and serve, sprinkled with parsley. And please, let it bring on a good reason to light a fire in the fireplace.

Kelly McCune © 2010

©2010 Kitchenelly. All Rights Reserved.

Everything but the turkey, and you'll find out why

I set out the other day to recreate a delicious turkey I had made some years back, not on Thanksgiving, mind you, but 3 days after. It was my peevish response to a take-out turkey we’d had with relatives, and I just felt I had to flex my Thanksgiving dinner muscles or else lose ‘em. It was a de-boned turkey, restuffed into shape, roasted, basted, sliced, and enjoyed and it looked a little like this:

You can't judge a book by it's cover, that's for sure

This is the turkey I made the other day, and this is the turkey that was, well, inedible. Yes, I’ve gone to the front and I return with warnings about organic/natural/free-range turkeys. But I’ll get to that later.

I did make a flavorful stuffing for the bird with cornbread, dried sour cherries, fennel, almonds, sausage, and sage. That was not a horror story. But I’m still smarting over that turkey.

Cherry, Almond & Sausage Stuffing | 10 servings

This will make enough to fill a 12 to 14-pound turkey, plus extra for a casserole.

6 cups dried cornbread chunks, or one Cornbread recipe
4 cups good-quality white bread chunks, such as a ciabatta (about 1/2 loaf)
1 tablespoon olive oil
2 tablespoons butter
1/4 pound sausage, or 2 Italian sausages
1 large onion, diced
1 fennel bulb, diced
2 celery stalks, diced
3/4 cup coarsely chopped dried cherries
3/4 cup raw slivered almonds
Sprig of fresh sage, about 8 large leaves, minced
Salt and freshly ground black pepper
1 1/2 cups unfiltered apple juice or cider
1/2 cup chicken stock or turkey stock (for overflow stuffing)

Tear the bread into chunks.

I used half a ciabatta (left) and a recipe of cornbread (right)

Spread the bread evenly in one layer on baking sheets

Dry the bread in a 225°F oven, tossing occasionally to dry evenly. It will take no more than an hour to dry out.

While the bread is drying, prepare the other stuffing ingredients. Heat the olive oil and 1 tablespoon of the butter in a pan over medium. Remove the sausage casing and break up the meat in the pan.

With the tip of a sharp knife, make a long slit in the sausage casing

Pull off the casing and discard

Break up the sausage into small bits - I used 1 spicy and 1 mild Italian sausage

Cook the sausage until browning. While the sausage is cooking, dice the onion, fennel and celery.

Trim the top and root off the fennel and cut out the tough core

Slice the fennel along the grain

Holding the slices together, turn the fennel and slice against the grain

With a slotted spoon, remove the cooked sausage and set aside.

Scoop the sausage onto a small plate or into a bowl until needed

Add the diced onion, fennel and celery to the sausage pan and cook until wilted, about 10 minutes.

Sprinkle in some salt and pepper at this point -- it's important not to underseason stuffing

Measure the breadcrumbs into a large mixing bowl.

Generous cups because everyone love stuffing

My beat-up old stainless bowl works well

Add the cherries and almonds.

It's very hard not to snack away at the ingredients

Add the cooked sausage, wilted onions, fennel and celery, and sage, and sprinkle liberally with salt and pepper. Mix well.

Stuffing is really deceptively simple

You could really throw any flavors in here that you like -- green chiles or chestnuts or bacon or proscuitto or feta (you get the idea...)

Just before stuffing the turkey, pour in the apple juice, mixing well. Taste again and adjust the seasonings. The idea is to dampen but not soak the bread crumbs, since the juices from the turkey will do that.

Stop short of 1 1/2 cups of juice if the bread becomes too wet, or add more if it seems too dry

Note: Lots of stuffing recipes call for melted butter instead of apple juice, but in the interest of health I always use juice. I also like the slightly sweet note it adds, which brings up the savory flavors nicely.

Any extra stuffing can be piled in a buttered casserole (using the extra tablespoon of butter). Add the chicken or turkey stock and baste occasionally with turkey drippings. Cook, covered with foil, along with the turkey for 45 minutes, taking the foil off for the final 10 minutes if you like crisper top.

Overflow stuffing cooks nicely in a casserole but will be a little drier than the stuffing cooked inside the turkey

At this point I’d love to show you how I re-stuffed my de-boned turkey but I’d only be misleading you. So here’s my little word of warning:

Turkeat Emptor (Turkey-Buyer Beware)

We spend a lot of Thanksgivings wringing our hands over the safety of the bird — undercooked, bad, too long at room temp, bad. These are concerns, but really, it’s just a big chicken. Follow the same care you’d take with a whole chicken and you’ll be fine.

Where it’s possible to go astray, though, is in the brand and type of bird you buy and how you cook that bird. Not all turkeys are created equal. That’s what I found out with my…yes, inedible…bird.

We are seeing more and more “organic,” “natural,” and “free-range” birds out there, as well as “kosher” and “heritage” and the old standbys, Butterballs® and grocery store brands, and it’s now become crucial to know how to deal with them.

My turkey was a “free-range” turkey, raised locally, though I can’t immediately distinguish between the free-range and organic or for that matter natural. The website says of free-range: “These turkeys are raised on healthful grains and allowed to roam in areas four times the size of the average commercial turkey ranch.  Their high protein diet provides the optimum amount of nutrients for the turkey to grow into a bigger and more flavorful turkey than one typically found in the supermarket.  You won’t find any antibiotics, animal by-products, preservatives or hormones in a Mary’s Free-Range Turkey.”

For the organic it says: “Mary’s Free-Range Organic Turkeys are fed a certified organic high protein diet complete with the finest grains and vegetable proteins and grow naturally with plenty of open space on a certified organic ranch in sunny California. Because of cleaner living quarters, a healthier and happier turkey is produced having a better taste.  You won’t find any antibiotics, animal by-products, preservatives or hormones in a Mary’s Free-Range Organic Turkey.” Sheesh — what’s the difference? I can’t really parse it out. Maybe the organics have less space?

My turkey was de-boned, which presents the first cooking challenge. Though it was re-stuffed, it needed to cook for less time. I knew that, and watched that bird like a hawk. In taking its temperature (which I did frequently) I noted that the breast meat never got tender, and there was little thigh to test. Free-range birds are longer, less “plump” than the Butterball-style turkeys of our childhood. All in all, this turkey yielded less than 1 tablespoon of fat, and I had generously rubbed it with butter, both inside and out. Lean. Really lean.

So free-range, natural and organic turkeys can have very little fat, which would translate into moisture. To get that moisture they would benefit from being brined. Whole Foods sells different varieties of these, depending on the location of the store and their regional source, so a conversation with the butcher would provide further information.

Heritage is most like a wild turkey, and even leaner than the organics or the free-range.

Kosher turkeys have been brined, thus they are more moist but can be salty.

Butterballs have been injected with “up to 8% of a solution of Water, Salt, Spices to Enhance Tenderness and Juiciness.” Does make the classic Norman Rockwell turkey, but it’s a little watery.

Grocery store brands usually come frozen or have been frozen. This can give the turkey an institutional flavor.

This is the beginning of my serious examination into this turkey equality problem, but I have some early conclusions to share. I would recommend brining any organic, natural, or free-range turkey. Ditto for the Heritage turkeys. Russ Parsons, in his series of articles for the Los Angeles Times, likes the flavored dry-brine method: Sprinkle the bird with 1 tablespoon of kosher salt for every 5 pounds of turkey — and the salt can be mixed with “aromatics” (like fresh or dried rosemary, sage, citrus zest, etc.) — place in a sealed plastic bag, and refrigerate for 2 1/2 to 3 days. After a day or so there may be accumulated liquid in the bag, but that will reabsorbed by the turkey, giving it the moisture it needs. In the future I will lean toward the dry-brine since my refrigerator will not accommodate the large pot filled with salty liquid needed for wet-brining.

Maybe I overcooked my turkey, maybe not. But next year I’m going to dig deeper into this problem, because this year I won’t be making another turkey  (we’re going over the meadow and through the woods for Thanksgiving). Little did I know how prophetic this funny card that came my way would be:

Until next year...

©2010 Kitchenelly. All Rights Reserved.

Here's my Path to Freedom vegetable box

I use this variety in the recipe below, but I could easily have used the smaller green eggplants

A week or so ago I bought a box of assorted vegetables — the farmer’s choices — from Path to Freedom urban homestead farm in Pasadena. I set myself the reality-TV challenge of cooking everything I got, which I have done. First I made guava corncakes from the pink, aromatic guavas. In a future post I’ll show you what I did with the very odd squash with the big personality. (It certainly reminded me an awful lot of Olive Oyl…)

Okay maybe without the licking cats (Public Domain)

Anyway, on to the eggplant. I love eggplant, but I hate the overly oily (oyly?), flavor-masked, mushy variety that is often found in restaurants. Eggplant has a sweet flavor that requires a little advance prep and some minor care in cooking. This is one of my favorite ways to cook it — lightly oiled and pan-browned and served with plenty of fresh herbs and garlic.

Eggplant with Fresh Herbs and Garlic | 4 servings

1 good-sized eggplant, or 3 to 4 Japanese (or long) eggplants
Salt
Olive oil
6 sprigs Italian parsley
6-inch sprig of basil, about 6 leaves
6-inch sprig of rosemary, leaves removed
1 garlic clove
Freshly ground black pepper

Trim the stem end from the eggplant. Slice into rounds.

For this dish I like 1/4-inch slices

On paper towels, arrange the eggplant slices in one layer. Lightly salt the slices and let stand for 30 minutes. The salt draws out the moisture than can sometimes make the eggplant bitter.

The eggplant will sweat the bitter juices

Blot the eggplant with paper towels.

This also removes some of the excess salt

Rub the eggplant slices lightly with olive oil. The eggplant absorbs oil instantly, so work quickly. You can also brush the oil on with a pastry brush, or use an oil sprayer.

I do this by pouring a little oil into my palm and quickly rubbing it on the slices, like hand lotion

Heat a large pan over medium heat. Cook the eggplant slices until browned on both sides, about 10 minutes per side. Work in batches to avoid crowding the pan. Arrange the slices on a plate as each batch is cooked.

The slices will shrink as they cook

While the eggplant is cooking, prepare the herbs and garlic.

It's nice to have at least some of these herbs growing in your garden or in a windowsill pot

Mince the parsley, basil and rosemary. Mince the garlic with a small pinch of salt and combine it with the herbs.

As you finish with the garlic, move the knife on over and incorporate the herbs

When the eggplant is cooked and arranged on the plate, sprinkle the herb/garlic mixture all over the top. Top with a few grinds of black pepper. Let stand, if you have the time, for half an hour at room temperature.

Any leftover eggplant can be used on a sandwich the next day -- yes, it's fantastic

Kelly McCune © 2009

©2010 Kitchenelly. All Rights Reserved.

A simple pump and your favorite olive oil turns the oil into über-PAM®

When PAM® first made its appearance on grocery store shelves back in the 1960s my mom was certainly an early adopter. It piqued her natural attraction to fun-new-food-items, but mostly it eliminated the ornery chore of greasing the cookie sheet for the endless chocolate chip cookies she made back in the day. Simple! Just spray it on! Oh, and by the way, PAM® stands for “Product of Arthur Meyerhoff,” its inventor. Yep.

I have resisted cooking spray for decades. Just can’t really see where it would be needed. A couple of years ago, however, I succumbed to one that was labeled “Organic Cooking Spray Extra Virgin Olive Oil” — all the right buttons pushed. The ingredient list kept putting me off, though: organic extra virgin olive oil, yes, but also organic grain alcohol, soy lecithin, and propellant. Now I’m not accustomed to propellant in food, because isn’t that something that pushes something else? When does that ever need to be in food? Alas, that same can still languishes on the shelf. In fact, I think I’ll go in there right now and throw it out.

Spraying and food don’t usually go together, unless you are a Easy Cheese® person. Good news, though! I finally brought home an olive oil mister, and I’ve been falling in love with it ever since.

The olive oil sprayer works without propellant. The lid acts as an air pump, pulling air into the chamber and creating enough pressure to force the oil through the fine mist sprayer. The Cuisipro (under $20) recommends filling the container 1/3 full and pumping the lid 12 to 15 times, or until it becomes difficult to depress. The sprayer will work for 15 seconds or so, adequate to oil a pan, coat vegetables, or flavor salad greens. If you haven’t finished your task, just pump it up again.

This is a Cuisipro sprayer, easy to fill and clean and is well-constructed

Leaving the contents “pressurized” may wear out the sprayer seal quicker than necessary. Be sure to loosen the sprayer top to release the pressure after using it. I find that twisting the top back on rather than a straight down push keeps from adding pressure before putting it away.

What do I use it for? I like to “rub” vegetables lightly with olive oil before grilling or roasting them, but it’s a nicer task with the mister. I think I might be using less oil, too. Here I’ve made the difficult job of lightly oiling kale by a quick spray with the mister.

Rinse and pat dry the kale, lightly spray with olive oil, and sprinkle with salt. Shown here is Tuscan kale (also called Cavolo Nero, Lacinato kale, Dinosaur or Dino kale) and Purple kale

Roast kale in a 275°F oven for about 25 minutes, or until it is crispy and holds its shape. This makes a great cocktail snack. Purple kale, which has a thicker, stringier spine, can be cut into ribbons.  First cut out the spine, stack the leaves and cut crosswise into strips, arrange them haphazardly on a baking sheet, mist with olive oil and sprinkle with salt. Roast, tossing the strips midway through cooking, until crunchy, about 20 minutes. They make a nice garnish for soup or pasta.

The Tuscan kale works best if you want to cook whole leaves since the spine is very narrow and not too stringy, though I've used some younger purple kale leaves here, split down the middle

©2010 Kitchenelly. All Rights Reserved.

The heat of the tomatoes softens the fresh mozzarella

Last Monday night was an all-round great evening. The subject, from 5:30 until 10:30, was food. Very, very good food. We started the evening at Nancy Silverton/Mario Batali’s Pizzeria Mozza, and since there were 7 of us we tasted 7 different pizzas. And yes, the fuss is accurate and deserved — the pizza is deeply good. Then we saw Julie & Julia at the Arclight Cinema in Hollywood, and both the movie and the theater itself were also deeply good (especially all things Meryl Streep). You reserve in advance at the Arclight, are seated by an usher, and very kindly admonished by the same usher to silence cell phones and mouths during the movie. Ahhhh. I may be spoiled forever for pizza and movie theaters.

But back to Pizzeria Mozza. We started the meal with a different take on a standby, caprese, which I resisted because I make it at home with some regularity. And now that my home-grown tomatoes are ripe and I’ve found some amazing mozzarella at the creaky (I mean really creaky) little Italian store down the hill, I was trying to hold it off. But caprese fans will out, and the thing was ordered.

I got a tiny bite of it but it was delicious. The hot roasted tomatoes plopped right onto the mozzarella begin to soften the cheese but leave behind its slight tang. The basil, instead of chopped and sprinkled on top, was pureed with olive oil and drizzled over the mozzarella, making it even easier to mop up the goods with some bread. And that is one of the great pleasures of the last bites of caprese: the mozzarella gives off a little briny “milk,” which mixes with the oil which mixes with the tomato which you try to dab up with a hint of basil. Here it’s making its own soup for you.

This is my take on Mozza’s caprese — and a new way to visit an old friend. Look for the freshest mozzarella you can find, and some really good bread to go with it. After all, Nancy Silverton is the woman behind all that bread at La Brea Bakery. And some of us need something good to go with our bread.

Little cherries and pears were what looked freshest that day -- my own pears had been finished off

Roasted Tomato Caprese Served Warm | 6 hearty servings

1 pound little tomatoes, such as cherry, pear, little heirloom, mixed varieties
Olive oil
Sea salt
25 to 30 basil leaves, about 5 large sprigs
3 tablespoons olive oil
Small pinch salt
Small pinch sugar
Small squeeze of lemon
1 pound fresh mozzarella
Freshly ground black pepper

Preheat the oven to 275°F. Wash the tomatoes and dry thoroughly. Place them on a large baking sheet and drizzle lightly with olive oil. Rub the oil over the tomatoes and sprinkle with sea salt.

I like to use a foil sheet so there's no clean-up, but I throw it in the recycling bin -- parchment would work, too

While the tomatoes are roasting, lightly rinse the basil and shake it dry. Chop coarsely.

There is some argument that rinsing the basil washes away some of the oils that flavor it, but mine is from my garden and has to be washed

You'll end up with a heaping half cup of chopped basil

If you have an immersion blender or a mini food processor, put the chopped basil along with the oil, salt, sugar, and lemon in the cylinder or bowl and puree until fine.

Here's my immersion blender, but it's not essential

The little squeeze of lemon will help keep the basil leaves bright

A cross between basil "sauce" and pesto

A regular-sized blender or food processor is too big for this job, so if you don’t have a little machine, simply chop the basil until its very fine and mix it with the salt, sugar and lemon.

Slice the mozzarella into rounds and arrange on a plate.

My creaky Italian market was closed (see how creaky?), so this mozzarella came from Whole Foods

Drizzle with the pureed basil, top with hot tomatoes, and sprinkle with freshly ground black pepper.

And pass the bread, please.

Kelly McCune © 2009

©2010 Kitchenelly. All Rights Reserved.