Fall-time Fricassees: Autumn & Chanterelles

Fricassee of Chanterelles with Egg Tagliatelle

There are so many things to love about this time of year.  September and October in the middle latitudes are bountiful - not only in that late-summer, early-autumn-harvest kind of way either.  The climate changes in a pretty marked manner, not entirely for the worse.  As sad as I always am to say goodbye to summer, the Autumn is the earth's way of saying, "Come on, it's not all bad!"

In Autumn I start craving all sorts of fall-y things like sweet and savory pies of every sort, squashes and pumpkins, and mushrooms galore.  Ah, my crazy love affair with mushrooms.  It never ends, nor does it vaguely begin to wain.  It's like a hopeless addiction.  Proof of which is the fact that despite the painful $19.99/lb price tag, I cannot help myself from going for a small bag of Chanterelles at Whole Foods these days.  It's almost too much to ask myself - like I'm doing my family an active disservice by NOT buying them these meaty, yellow-y, most-definitely-autumnal mushrooms right now. 

I've had Chanterelles on the brain for a while now.  A couple of weeks ago we went to a fantastic dinner double-date at Bresca in downtown Portland.  One of their starter choices was a wild mushroom (locally foraged, btw) souffle.  That night was a classic example of my tendency to overthink my menu choices.  It was obvous that I should have gotten it from the moment I saw the menu but instead I opted for the "Braised Tuscan Black Kale with a 6 minute egg, crispy pancetta, kombu butter, and charred multi grain bread."  It was delicious.  But it was no Chanterelle souffle.  Maybe that's why I'm still obsessing over the mushrooms.

Either way, in my latest Bon Appetit magazine was a recipe for Fricassee of Chanterelles, and it looked good enough (even better than that, actually) to eat based solely on the picture.  I was enticed all the more once I read the recipe.  So I broke down and indulged my grubby little hands in some Whole Foods foraging.  It was absolutely worthwhile.  I highly recommend it.  Even Roman ate it!  Autumnal indulgence #1: check.  If you can find fresh papardelle I would say go for those over tagliatelle (it's all I could get last-minute).

Now for my top five other Fall-time Fricassees - things that make this time of year worth living for, not just just living in.

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My Top 5 Favorite Fall-time Fricassees!

 take that as you will

All done!

5. The Fairs / Festivals are coming.

It seems like literally every single day we find out about a new festival or carnival going on in the next town over.  This week is the apparently infamous Cumberland Fair which we will hopefully be hitting up tomorrow evening for some rides and good Fall food.  The Fryburg Fair is coming up and this past weekend was some kind of Gardner's fair where all they have is Maine-produced food.  Apparently they didn't serve coffee for a couple of years because there isn't any native Maine coffee!  Kinda neat.

4. The Foliage (already!)

There is one tree on our street that is painfully beautiful already with its bright red and orange leaves.  Having taken a drive through the countryside this weekend I can say it is the exception at this point in time, but yes, the foliage is coming!  The foliage is coming!  Don't you want to come visit me? :)

3. Fantastic Apples & Orchard

This past weekend we went apple picking with Roman and his nursery school.  It is one of those things I've wanted to do since I first heard about Johnny Appleseed when I was in elementary school.  If there are apple orchards in Texas we never went.  I had so much fun seeing Roman run around eating about as many apples as he could hold.  And the orchard was just beautiful.  Pictures to come.

2. The Freakish Pumpkins

We were going out for a "family dinner" the other night at the Longhorn Steakhouse (yes, it has come to that) in South Portland when a small pick-up truck drove by with the largest pumpkin I've seen in my entire life.  Roman and I jumped off the car and ran after him.  He happily allowed Roman to jump up on the bed and pose with the pumpkin.  He'd just come from one of the many fairs where he'd won 1st place for largest pumpkin in Maine: 950lbs my friends!  Crazy freakishness. :)

1. Halloween!

Ahhhhhh!  I LOVE Halloween!  It is one of the many reasons I am particularly happy to be back in the US after our 5 year hiatus.  Let me tell you, Halloween in Abu Dhabi sucked.  Especially because some Sheikh died the day before and our neighborhood promptly "postponed" trick-or-treating until the first weekend in November due to a week of national mourning.  What the hell is that?!  Anyway, I've been diligently slaving away on my Viking Sewing Machine making Roman his first-ever homemade Halloween costume.  It's super cute.  No, actually, it's so much more than that.  But we'll save that juicy tidbit for another post. :)

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And on a tangentially related note, Matt and I are heading to Prague this coming week for our first-ever Roman-less vacation (thank you In-Laws!).  I have a lot to update on when we get back so hopefully that means my posts will be a little more frequent.  Until then, go buy some mushrooms and make me proud!

Italy on the Brain: Pasta Pecorino Montese

A view of buildings in San Martino

That is a good description of me, these days - the title of this post.  I have Italy on the brain in a true, non-stop way similar only to the way I had Italy on the brain just after I'd had my first taste of it.  And if you've been to Italy, you know what I mean.  

The essence of Italy is beyond their national culinary genius, their unparalleled artistic contribution, their irrepressible and irresistible - innate, even - ability to enjoy and live in pleasure the way few other cultures can or have.  It is, like all intangibles, invisible but all the more present for it.  And it's contagious.  I went there first a llittle over 10 years ago, and I've never looked back since.  And while I hesitate to make this claim because it's just so cliched, I will do it: My name is Brenda, and I am an Italophile.  

If you know anything about me and my random wanderings and all the places I've demanded life take me or unknowingly been pushed to, you might question my self-proclaimed Italophile-ness.  But the reality is that no matter how much I denity it - whatever I do, wherever I go, and whatever I love - I always come back to Italy.  I spent two of my most formative adolescent years there, I studied there, I discovered art and philosophy and travel there.  I became an adult and tested independence and questioned God and the Pope there.  I fell in and out of love there.  I met my husband there.  And one day, I always knew, I'd take my son, Roman, there.

Ironically, having just lived in London for 3 1/2 years, in relative proximity to Italy, I only went back once or twice and never to Rome.  At that point in my life, I had no desire to revisit places I'd already seen, feeling that I should take as much advantage of getting to know new countries and cultures rather than rehashing endlessly all things Italian.  It took moving to the Middle East to realize how much I missed it.  Well that and I just finished reading Eat, Pray, Love (go ahead, roll your eyes all your pop-culture haters!), an interesting book which takes part (1/3) in Rome.   

Rome, for me, is the mecca of all things Italian and holds particular importance for me as it's where I first met my Connecticuttian husband 8 years ago.  While I don't wish to give Gilbert's book more credit than it deserves in this instance, this book did make me remember all the wonderful things I'd fallen in love with about Italy.  And that combined with a growing awareness that Roman is soon approaching the dreaded travel-joy-kill that will be his 2nd birthday (read: you have to buy full-price airline tickets for kids over 2), made me go into a frenzied, maniacal, desperate search for a reason, any reason, to go back to Italy as soon as possibly possible.  And no, that was not a typo.

Eid Al Adha hits the UAE right in the middle of November and provides Matt with a full week of vacation, or close enough.  As soon as I'd heard this news I was online looking for flights.  Screw Istanbul, forget Jordan, I'm so over Dubai - I want ITALY.  And a couple of petty arguments over stop-overs, itineraries and possible lay-overs later, I got ITALY in the form of tickets to Roma, Roma, beautiful Roma.

We will also be visiting Matt's distant family in the south of Italy in a small village in the hills / mountains of rustic Campania.  The village called San Martino is about as real-deal Italian village as you can get - free entirely of tourists and occupied by generations that have lived there since before the World Wars.  Let me start by saying that it has a castle and a mill where Matt's grandmother used to grind grains to make bread.  People grow their own everything (fruit, rabbits, lettuce, you name it), the town is accidentally (naturally) landscaped with wild fennel, oregano, and roses.  There is a street named after Matt's family there and the village church is where his grandparents were married.  These Italians live forever because they walk the hills and forage for (delicious, unbelievable) mushrooms, and tin their own tomatoes.  I can't entirely describe the strangely satisfying form of torture we will undergo while there, but suffice it to say that we will be coerced into eating more than anyone should ever eat by families who show love through wildly delicious food and conversation animated the way only Italians can (the way it should be, if you ask me) - and we will like it.

We might take a couple of days to go to the Amalfi coast, but after Rome and San Martino this will probably pale.

So today before I sat down to write this post I was inspired and made a lunch for myself that encapsulates the deliciousness I anticipate for this Italian trip.  It was a "toss the salad with your hands" kind of day in the kitchen, and I did.  I relished getting cheese and olive oil all over everything and I savored the flavor of plain-ish spaghetti.  These are the things I love.  These are the things of Italy.

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Path to the river, along the Mill
San Martino

Fresh Olive Oil, Sediment Separating

Gathered Nuts
San Martino

Unveiling Homemade Tomato Sauce
The Pride of the Home

A Well-Used Pot Collection
San Martino

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Pasta Pecorino Montese

Serves 1

Hipstamatic Pasta Pecorino Montese

This pasta dish is one that I make myself when I am home alone and want something delicious but easy to make.  It is a perfect fall dish and exemplifies a fusion between Rome and Campania  with its use of Pecorino Romano, Lemons, and mushrooms.

Ingredients

Spaghetti (1 portion)

1 or 2 handfuls of your favorite mushrooms (oyster, porcini or white), roughly chopped

3 cloves garlic, minced

small handful fresh marjoram

small handful fresh basil

2 tbsp pecorino romano, grated

2-3 tbsp extra virgin olive oil

1/2 tsp pepperoncino (crushed red pepper)

1/2 lemon

Method

1. Bring enough water to prepare the spaghetti to a boil.

2. In the meantime, heat 1 -2 tbsp olive oil in a non-stick pan over medium-high heat.  Once hot, add the garlic and crushed red pepper.  Sautee until fragrant.  Add the mushrooms and brown.  Do not turn often, letting them caramelize slightly.

3. Meanwhile, cook the pasta.

4.Once the mushrooms are fully cooked, add the fresh herbs and toss.  Turn off the heat, add salt and pepper to taste.

5.  Once the pasta is done, put in a bowl and add the mushroom mixture, grated pecorino, some extra olive oil, and splash with lemon juice.  Mix the pasta quickly and lightly and serve immediately.

Goes great with a simple frisee salad dressed with olive oil and red wine vinegar.

Buon Appetito!

In Hopes of Spring Day 5: A New World Order - Green Lasagna

Green. Ides of March. Cute graphic. Need I say more?
Image credit, um, I think.

It was exactly 2053 years and 1 day ago in 44BC that (Gaius) Julius Caesar was assassinated by members of his own senate in ancient Rome. That day, unbeknownst to the cunning but well-meaning senators desperate to have their Republic back from the dictator perpetuo as Caesar had proclaimed himself, would live on in collective history as the beginning of a New World Order. (Sorry, had to include the gratuitous HOT photo of Ciarán Hinds as JC from the HBO show Rome.) Photo credit.

A "New World Order" because rather than giving power back to the senate as Brutus and Cicero had hoped, Caesar's death actually quickly catapulted Rome into the infamous and thereafter permanent Empire led by, ironically, Caesar's adoptive son (& nephew) Augustus Caesar, who did keep the senate in place, but more as a courtesy than anything else. Rome was forever altered. We were forever altered.

Similarly, yesterday, on the Ides of March, I thought it wise to attempt something almost as daring, as life-altering as the assassination of one's dictator in the name of Democratic, or in this case, technically, Republican liberty: a new lasagna.

A - dare I? well, yes, because I did - GREEN lasagna.

* * *

My Accidental Assassination of Traditional Lasagna for the sake of The Republic
or, A New World Order - Green Lasagna
or, where did it all go so terribly wrong right?

It all started one day a couple of weeks ago as I was watching Ina Garten's Food Network show The Barefoot Contessa.

A small aside:

1. What the hell is with that name? (Not hers! The show's! Though yeah, Ina? What is that?) I admit, I do find it somewhat aesthetically pleasing - the image of a beautiful contessa walking barefoot through an herb garden and cooking delectable meals from simple, elegant ingredients. But then the show starts and you see...well, Ina! No offense, she's a pretty and well-put-together lady, but come on - a "barefoot contessa" she is not.

2. I'm all for using real butter and real cream - but I find Ina, as fearless culinary leaders go, tends to be somewhat exaggerated in her use of both. Whatever - I still make her recipes. :)

End Small Aside

So, as I was saying: I was watching The Barefoot Contessa and happened to catch the episode where she makes a mushroom (vegetarian) lasagna for some girlfriends. I am and always have been completely in love with mushrooms, and in this episode she actually purchases the loveliest of Oyster Mushrooms (my FAVORITE) for the dish, so I decided to make it. Sadly, upon searching for the dish, I found she wussed out of including the oyster mushrooms ("too expensive" "too hard to find" I imagine - they are neither, btw) and entitled the dish Portobello Mushroom Lasagna, which I adapted for my recipe.

my darling oyster mushrooms!

It may have been a Freudian slip or just an accident, but I also somehow ended up with a box of Green (Spinach) Lasagna in my pantry this week. I meant to get normal stuff, but no, I got Egg Lasagne Verdi instead, made from durum wheat and egg "for a richer taste" apparently. At first I was a little upset about this mishap, but I soon got over it when I realized this would allow me to create the perfect Springtime meal: GREEN Lasagna!

Green lasagna? Who knew.

But suddenly, my mind was flooded with would-be problems: It would be highly unorthodox on my part - a risk. What if the pasta was nasty? What if green lasagna just didn't look aesthetically pleasing? What about good old regular meaty lasagna? Would I be able to go back to ground beef after tasting the nectar of the gods - aka, the oyster mushroom filling mixture? Like Brutus and Cicero before me, I threw caution to the wind. It was time for a regime change and by God, I too would be stabbing the proverbial heart of the traditional (but nevertheless culinarily dictatorial) lasagna if that's what it would take.

I judged correctly, unlike the senators. Green Lasagna was a hit:
It was revolutionary enough to fit consumption on the Ides of March. Green enough to satisfy my kermit-esque obsession. Yummy enough to satiate Matt's belly. And a priceless opportunity to say the word "BESCIAMELLA!" (BESH-A-MELLA!) in an exaggerated Italian accent for the rest of the day, as this recipe requires you make your own. What else can a girl ask for?

* * *

Brenda's Green (Mushroom) Lasagna

Serves 6-8

Ingredients
3/4 lbs (350-400g) Dried Egg Lasagna Verdi (Spinach)
1 cup Parmesan cheese, freshly grated
1 1/2 cups shredded mozzarella cheese (optional)

For the bechamel:
3 cups whole milk
1 stick butter
1/2 cup all-purpose flour
1 tsp black pepper, freshly ground
1 tsp nutmeg, freshly ground

For the mushroom mixture:
good olive oil
1/2 stick butter
1 tsp or so dried thyme
1 shallot, minced
2 cloves garlic, minced

1/2 to 1 tsp crushed red pepper, or to taste

salt, to taste
1 1/2 lbs mushrooms, a mix of oyster, chestnut and white



Procedure
1. Preheat oven to 275 F or 160C.

2. For the Bechamel Sauce (BESCIAMELLA!) Add 1 stick of butter to a medium pot; once melted add the flour and mix vigorously over medium heat, not allowing the mixture to burn, until well-combined. Then add the milk, salt, pepper and nutmeg and mix continuously with a whiskuntil the sauce is very thick and tastes right. Set aside.

3. Bring a large pot of salted water to boil with a good splash of olive oil in it. Once boiling, add pasta and cook as directed. Drain and set aside.
NB: I'm not kidding when I say LARGE pot and I'm not kidding when I insist you add olive oil. A small pot with no oil will result in lasagna which sticks together, cooks unevenly and is therefore unusable. Don't go there.

4. Meanwhile, chop the mushrooms. For the chestnut and white varieties, chop them into pieces about 1/4 inch thick. For the oysters, chop roughly LENGTHWISE. Leave the small ones in tact.

5. Add remaining butter and another good splash of olive oil to a pan. Once melted over medium-high heat, add the shallots, garlic and crushed red pepper to taste. Sautee for a minute or two and then add the chopped mushrooms and thyme. Salt and pepper to taste. Allow mushrooms to cook through and sautee until golden (5 minutes or so).

6. Assemble the lasagna. In an oven-proof, rectangular dish make layers as follows:
- Some besciamella!
**- Some pasta
- Some more besciamella!
- Some mushrooms (roughly 1/3)
- Some mozzarella
- Some Parmiggiano!

Repeat 3 times from ** and end with a layer of BESCIAMELLA! and then cheeses.

7. Bake for 45 minutes; if the top is not golden enough, put it under the broiler for an extra 3-5 minutes. Allow it to rest for 10-15 before serving hot with a delicious and simple salad made by your obliging husband. :)

Buon Appetito!

In Hopes of Spring Day 1: Artichoke & Lemon Pasta

An edible thistle? sign me up.
I got this picture here.

What better to jump-start the Springtime series than a light and delicious pasta dish with Springtime ingredients?

It was one of a very few but lovingly hoped-for sunny days sometime about a month ago when I got the inspiration for this pasta dish. I was, as usual, flipping through one of my many food magazines when I saw mention of one of the most delicious upcoming seasonal ingredients: artichokes.

I keep a couple of jars of artichokes in olive oil in the pantry, just in case I ever get the urge, but I tend to use them only in dire desperation. Artichokes are one of those vegetables that, to me, lose part of their mystique when you don't get to clean and cook them yourself. There's just something about trimming the little tips, cutting off the stem, and peeling away the older, uglier leaves that makes me feel like a Roman matrona preparing dinner in Sicily. I love baby artichokes, but I love the big mama artichokes too. You can steam them, boil them, batter and fry them, or even eat them raw (as I learned from Matt), but whatever you do, they are most delicious, I think, when you can taste their subtle, meaty flavor without having to fight a million others at the same time.

Sadly, despite their growing season being March through May, it was still too cold here in the UK to find them in great abundance in the supermarkets when I decided to make this recipe, not to mention, the ones I could have found would have been ridiculously expensive and not so nice looking. So, a little deflated but determined nonetheless, I ventured to "the bodega" as Matt refers to my copiously and shamelessly crammed pantry, to take out one of my jars of artichoke hearts.

The sunshine abundantly flying through my living room windows seemed reason enough to make a light-filled Italian dish which requires little fuss and ingredients which can generally already be found in one's kitchen. But first, a little on artichokes and why I find them to be a particularly interesting, and aesthetically pleasing vegetable.

* * *

Three Interesting Tidbits Relating to the Vegetable with a Heart: The Artichoke

"Artichokes" by Clare Malloy;
glad I'm not the only one who finds them aesthetically pleasing.

3. Ancient Artichokes: a brief and glossed-over history thereof
The nerdy Classicist in me has an obsession with finding out the origins of all things edible. It really bothers me, for example, when people say that coffee comes from Colombia, or Potatoes are Irish, or, worse yet, chili peppers are Indian (which they are NOT!). With my obsessive and valiantly edifying nature in mind, I looked into the origins of Artichokes and found that my Italocentric view of them was not far off.

Artichokes may have come from North Africa or they may have come from somewhere in the European Mediterranean. The only thing that's clear is that they were widely used in Roman and Greek cooking thousands of years ago, and continue to be used by them today (hence my assumption that they are Italian). It was, however, the Greeks that introduced them to the Romans (like with everything else important) and the Romans who introduced them to everybody else. It wasn't until the mid 16th Century that Artichokes came to the UK, introduced to Henry VIII by the Dutch, oddly enough. Who knows how they got there, but I'm glad they did.


2. The Aesthetic of the Thistle: Why Artichokes are Pretty
I don't know about you, but a big part of what I like to eat is determined by what looks good. While the artichoke may not be as alluring as, say, a sauteed prawn, it ranks rather high on my list of aesthetically pleasing edible things, not least because of the beautiful colors and unorthodox shape it has.

Artichokes come in the loveliest shades of green and purple. The green is new enough to look alive, but muted enough to be wild. And the purple is sometimes so bright, so ethereal, you have to wonder whether nature was sending a warning sign. In shape, artichokes look to me like a combination between a flower and a giant, leafy, upside down acorn. In short, they look like a giant thistle (or sticker burr, if you're Texan), and that's exactly what they are. This prickly nature draws me to them more (much like my obsession with eating Nopales or Mexican Cactus) because they are a food you have to work for to prepare and eat in peace. As the saying goes: every rose has its thorn. Artichokes, pretty as they are, come equipped with deceptively small little spiny claws at their leaf tips which need to be ripped or snipped off before consumption. As enticing as their healthy verdant leaves are, as bewitching as the bright purple blossoms of the artichoke plant may be, do us all a favor and don't forget to cut off the thorns. :)

Ah, Artichoke blossoms.
I got this picture here.

In my search for all things Artichoke-related, I came across a Midwestern artist who seemed to agree with my predilection for Artichokes. Check out some of Clare Malloy's paintings which, though probably a little too minimalist and clean for my taste, are nevertheless rather pretty. Especially the artichoke one, which I've displayed above.


1. Artichoke Festivals and Ice Cream -The Final Frontier?
While natural cultivation of the artichoke, as mentioned above, was historically generally confined to Southern Europe and the Mediterranean, with Italy and Spain still leading the charge in modern day, our prickly friend can also be found in great abundance in none other than California (what doesn't grow there?!). I always tell Matt I want to move to California just because of the amazing garden / orchard I could have. Turns out, actually, that California grows nearly 100% of all artichokes in the US, and about 80% of those are grown in Monterrey County, which happens to include a little town by the name of Castroville.

Castroville gets an honorable mention on my blog today because they have, despite their puny size (pop. well under 10,000) and otherwise unremarkable existence, hoisted themselves into national stardom by proclaiming themselves "The Artichoke Center of the World" (very American of them isn't it?). (Thanks to Roadside America for the lovely picture of Jack Fitzgerald next to the Giant Artichoke in Castroville.)

Along with this title, they have also taken it upon themselves to host the annual "Castroville Artichoke Festival" every May for the past many, many, years (where Marilyn Monroe was crowned the first ever Artichoke Queen in 1948, incidentally), where people from all over the globe gather to celebrate and devour everyone's well-loved thistle in more forms than we can (or would choose to) imagine. They even make Artichoke Ice Cream. I'll try almost anything once. :)

NB: Interestingly, the Italian link sticks: Castroville's artichoke production is rumored to have been started in the 1920s by the same Swiss Italian immigrants who also started the first wine vineyards in "American's Salad Bowl" (Salinas Valley, California). Who knew? Roman imperial domination continued well into the 20th century.

* * *

Artichoke & Lemon Pasta
Serves 2

I first started eating artichokes when I moved to Italy. Italians put them in everything - pasta dishes, meat dishes, salads - you name it. The first time I tried to cook them I boiled the heck out of them for over an hour, not knowing exactly how to make heads or tails of whether an artichoke was "done" or not. Don't make the same mistake as me!

For this recipe, Iused ready-prepared artichoke hearts. I think pairing them with fresh lemon juice and zest gives back a little spring to the marinated hearts, and I always keep a little fresh parmesan around the house, without which this dish would be lost. Hope it brings as much sunshine to your day as it did to mine.


Ingredients

1 jar Artichoke hearts (100g), in olive oil or water, chopped into large chunks
1 lemon, zested & juice of 1/2 the lemon
2 tbsps good olive oil
1 handful flat-leaf parsley, roughly chopped
1/2 cup grated parmesan cheese (the real stuff), plus more for garnishing
1 lb bag of tagliatelle pasta (substitute fettuccine if you can't find tagliatelle)
salt & freshly ground pepper


Procedure

1. Cook the pasta as indicated on the package (I put my pasta in quickly boiling, salted water for about 6-8 minutes), leaving it slightly al dente.

2. Meanwhile, take all the other ingredients except the olive oil and mix together in a bowl (only briefly), seasoning with salt and pepper as well.

3. Once the pasta is cooked, drain and put back into the cooking pot. Add the artichoke mixture to the hot pasta and over medium heat, toss the pasta and artichoke mixture to combine. Drizzle the pasta and artichokes with olive oil and continue to toss for about 30 seconds more, not allowing the pasta to overcook.

4. Serve with extra parmesan cheese grated on the top and one last squirt of lemon juice from the unused lemon half.