Mititei (Romanian Sausage)

Nothus Farciminum Edax

Lex Culinaria has issued a challenge, she writes: “I somehow manage to keep coming back to the same old standby foods when we do a barbeque: sausages, steak, potato salad, corn on the cob,” and suggests, “If you’re like me, stuck in barbeque rut, step outside your comfort zone and come up with one interesting barbeque dish.”

Leaving aside her probable misuse of the word barbeque (I suspect she means grill) I don’t know if I’m in a rut or not. I never get some sort of generic urge to barbeque or grill something. Instead

…There’s the adventure of the ingredient, the new spice, the new grain. There’s the adventure of the new pot… ~ Paula Wolfert

I get an urge for barbequed ribs (meaning smoked over low heat for many hours) or a grilled steak or a roasted Cornish hen. And when I get the urge for ribs or a steak that’s what I fix. While the fire’s going I may grill or smoke something else such as potatoes or bell peppers or asparagus or baby artichokes, but those dishes don’t motivate me to build a fire the way a slab of meat does. Nevertheless her challenge did motivate me to try something new in the realm of meat.

Oddly enough, although I regularly barbeque and grill beef, pork, poultry, and fish, I don’t recall ever grilling sausages over a fire. As a matter of fact, this winter after buying a cast iron grill pan was the first time I ever recall grilling a sausage at all.

Also, I’ve decided to declare this the Year of the Sausage (more on this in a later post) and so it seemed obvious that I needed to make some sausages and grill them. I found an appealing recipe in Steven Raichlen’s The Barbeque! Bible for a Romanian sausage called Mititei. It’s an unusual recipe because it calls for a mixture of pork and lamb — meats that are seldom paired.

To go along with it I fixed couscous using some water I had poached a couple of slices of country ham in (for inclusion in another sausage recipe) and dried figs. I also had leftover baked baby artichokes. A Castle Rock zin proved sweeter than expected and, as such, provided a surprising foil to the carbon/onion/meat flavors of the sausage

Mititei

12 oz ground lamb
12 oz ground pork
1 ea sm onion — finely minced
2 cloves garlic — finely minced
1 1/2 tsp salt
1 tbsp baking soda
1 tsp hot or sweet paprika
1/2 tsp dried marjoram
1/2 tsp caraway seeds
1/2 tsp ground black pepper
1/4 tsp allspice
1 pinch ground cloves
1 tbsp olive oil

In a large bowl, mix all ingredients together with your hands, squeezing and kneading to combine thoroughly.

Pinch off a small piece, fry it, and taste to adjust seasonings.

Form mixture into 8 sausage-shaped rolls about 1 inch in diameter and 3 1/2 to 4 inches long. Arrange on a lightly oiled platter or large plate, cover with plastic, and refrigerate for 2 to 4 hours.

Build a hot fire, oil the grate, and cook, turning with a spatula, until browned and cooked through — 6 to 8 minutes. Serve immediately.

Overall, the sausages were excellent. The combination of lamb and pork was interesting but not tremendously so. However, the minced onions (I used my food processor) and garlic were wonderfully prominent and backed up nicely with the heat of the paprika and black pepper. I think I’ll use a half-again as much caraway next time and I think I’ll substitute dill for the marjoram.
And in the event you didn’t attempt to look up this post’s title, it’s Latin for “sausage-eating bastard.”

Delectatio!

Technorati: Food | recipe | main dish | lamb | pork | grilling | barbeque | sausage | Summer Barbecue Challenge

Baked Baby Artichokes

Small Packages

It’s not only asparagus season, it’s artichoke season — my second favorite vegetable. The world center for artichokes (at least in terms of production) is Castroville, California. Sadly, I never made it to the Artichoke Festival. I don’t recall why.

Like asparagus, the best produce is apparently shipped out of state. At least it was no easier to find excellent artichokes in grocery stores in Sacramento than it was any other high-quality produce. I do recall one winter, though, when there was a freeze in Castroville and the stores were flooded with ugly brown artichokes — the sort of thing I would ordinarily turn my nose up at — except I knew they were just frost damaged on the outside (not old) and they were about 25 cents each. I bought a dozen, tossed all the leaves, and feasted on fresh artichoke hearts.

What California did have that I hadn’t seen anywhere else were baby artichokes. I first had baby ‘chokes in Spain where I’d sautéed them in olive oil with garlic and fresh herbs. Yumm. So I enjoyed having access to them. And then I moved back to Tennessee and found them (in season) at Fresh Market (a regional version of Whole Foods). A couple of days ago I picked up a package and found this recipe for Baked Baby Artichokes. Delicious!

Technorati: Food | recipe | side dish | vegetable | baby artichokes

Fried Asparagus

Something Interesting

In general, I didn’t like living in California. On the other hand, in general it wasn’t as bad as I expected. I did end up living in the right place: Sacramento. It’s a pleasant little city conveniently located in the center of California. San Francisco was a day-trip away as were the mountains. Napa and Sonoma were convenient. And to my great surprise I liked the Central Valley.

California’s Central Valley is one of the most fertile areas in the world. The soil is essentially what’s mountain folk call bottom land — silt laid down by runoff from the mountains over hundreds of thousands of years. And the water that deposited the silt is still there creating a plain with thousands of streams and ponds and marshes. Fertile soil, plenty of water, and nearly endless sun make the area a farmer’s dream, and all summer long you see trucks, piled high with produce, filling the highways.

Not too far south of Sacramento

is Stockton, a small agricultural town — charming in an odd 20th century California way — and every spring Stockton hosts an asparagus festival. In fact, it was last weekend this year. As far as agricultural festivals go it’s pretty typical. I like going to such things but the truth is if you’ve been to one you’ve been to them all whether it’s asparagus in California, tomatoes in Tennessee, or apples in Michigan. The only real difference is in what’s featured and whether or not they do something interesting with it. Stockton does.

Stockton Fried Asparagus

1/2 cup cornstarch
3/4 cup flour
1 teaspoon salt
1/4 teaspoon black pepper
1/2 teaspoon white pepper
1/2 teaspoon celery salt
1/2 teaspoon baking soda
1 teaspoon baking powder
2 egg whites
2/3 cup cold flat beer
3 pounds (2 cups) raw, whole asparagus, cleaned and cut above white end

Mix all ingredients except asparagus in a bowl with a wire whisk until well blended. Dip asparagus spears individually in the batter and deep fry them in at least 2 inches of peanut oil for 2 minutes or until golden brown. Dust generously with grated Parmesan cheese.

At the festival they fry huge asparagus spears, 5/8 – 3/4 inches in diameter at the base. These fat spears are supposed to be the best — and in fact I tend to agree they’re better than thinner spears — but they’re too damned fat to cook through when frying. But thin spears won’t work either. I recommend spears about 1/2 inch in diameter. I also recommend frying lots. Three pounds is about right for two asparagus lovers.

Technorati: Food | recipe | asparagus | fried asparagus | side dish | vegetable | appetizer | asparagus aspirations

Savory Spanish Bread Pudding

Premature Aging

There was a time when I always had stale bread in my freezer. I’d buy a loaf for some purpose or other, eat part of it, then when the remainder started going stale I’d cut it up into cubes and deliberately let it get stale before freezing it. It was a ready resource for croutons, breadcrumbs, stuffing, and bread pudding.

But a couple of years ago I started baking bread regularly and the fresh homemade stuff was so good I seldom had much leftover. I’ve even been reduced to using store-bought breadcrumbs on occasion. So when faced with the requirement for stale bread in this month’s IMBB I was forced to buy bread just to let it get stale. That actually turned out to be a good thing.

I went to Fresh Market (a Southern version of Whole Foods) and bought a batard of sourdough French Bread. To my great

surprise it was excellent. It smelled like the real thing, had the texture of the real thing, and even tasted like the real thing. Oh, I’m sure it wouldn’t stand up in a side-by-side comparison with a genuine French loaf, but it was far better than any bread I’ve ever bought here in Knoxville. It seemed a shame to just let it go stale – so I fixed a couple of paninis and then let it go stale.

Ever since my friend Stephen at Stephen Cooks made a tomato bread pudding I’ve been thinking about doing the same. It’s the wrong time of year for tomatoes, but I decided to do something with a Spanish theme.

It turned out pretty well. The bread gave it a texture somewhere between an omelet and a soufflé — which was unexpected and quite nice. The flavors balanced nicely but weren’t intense enough. If I make it again — and I might — I’ll use more of everything except the bread and custard. Actually, a bit of tomato would have been a good idea even if I’d used canned tomatoes.

Savory Spanish Bread Pudding

6 slices French bread
5 ea eggs
2 1/2 c whole milk
1 tsp dried oregano
1/2 tsp Spanish paprika
salt and pepper to taste
2 tbsp olive oil
1/4 lb fresh chorizo — diced
1 ea sm. onion — diced
1/2 ea red bell pepper — diced
3 cloves garlic — chopped
1 c grated manchego

Cut bread into 1/2″ cubes and dry (don’t toast) in a 200F oven.

Heat olive oil in skillet over medium heat and add chorizo. Cook until sausage begins to render its fat then add onion and red bell and sauté until onion is translucent. Add garlic and cook another minute. Set aside to cool.

Heat oven to 400F.

Whisk together milk, eggs, paprika, oregano, and salt and pepper. Stir in bread cubes and vegetables and pour into a casserole dish. Allow to sit for about 10 minutes, then bake for 10 minutes. Sprinkle with grated cheese and continue baking 20 minutes or until mixture is puffed and browned. Serves 6.

Technorati: Food | recipe | eggs | bread pudding | spanish | IMBB 25

Asparagus Roundup I

Asparagus Roundup I

The first crop of asparagus dishes is in with dishes ranging from simple to complex and homey to exotic.

Andrea of Rookie Cookery wondered: “Is there a vegetable that says ‘spring’ more clearly than asparagus? Tender, juicy, and vibrantly green, they burst with delicate, grassy flavor in your mouth. ” Her Asparagus Frittata was the first recipe sent in.

Andrea was followed Jocelyn aka She Spills the Beans. Jocelyn spotted green garlic in her market and through that strange alchemy that brilliant cooks substitute for linear thinking came up with Asparagus & Edamame Salad with Green Garlic.

This morning I got a note from Luv2Cook at Cooking Medley. She’s from India and offered Asparagus Poriyal/Vepudu, which demonstrates just how well the apparently mild-mannered vegetable holds it’s own against assertive flavor pairings. She also offered an intriguing appetizer made with asparagus and spaghetti squash.

Lastly, I posted this recipe for asparagus parmesan which generated a lot of envy — sadly the envy wasn’t about my skill as a chef but about having been in the quite enviable circumstance of having left-over asparagus.

Technorati: Food | recipe | asparagus aspirations | asparagus

Strawberry Trifle

Denouement

This morming S’kat noted in her blog (s’kat and the food): “It’s that time of year again, when strawberry-filled plastic containers start stacking up at the supermarkets. Typically, I try to hold off on purchasing any, as strawberry season theoretically doesn’t start for another couple of weeks. In the end, the thought of those sweet, juicy berries does me in, and against my better judgment, home they come.”

Yeah. It’s like asparagus, after waiting all year the mere sight of fairly fresh strawberries is impossible to resist. And so, to finish off my Pagan Feast I’d bought some Georgia strawberries. Pretty things and not those huge, hollow, cardboard things from Timbuktoo that you see most of the year.

A couple of weeks ago I saw on

someone’s blog (and for the life of me, I can’t remember where) a poundcake dessert with layers of some sort of chocolate mixture. When I bought the stawberries I thought I’d do a similar treatment. Only instead of chocolate I’d have layers of mascarpone and strawberries. But I screwed up.

I made a poundcake but overrode my better judgement and baked the whole thing in a large loaf pan as opposed to the bundt pan called for. I should learn to listen to myself.

Dispite cooking the cake for twice as long as the recipe called for and triple checking with a toothpick, the interior was raw. So after cutting around the raw center I ended up with some delicious chunks of cake totally unsuitable for what I’d planned. I’m not a cook to be trifled with so I did the trifling myself, substituting poundcake for the ladies fingers.

Strawberry Trifle

1 lb strawberries — hulled and sliced
3 tbsp sugar
4 tbsp Frangelica
1 pt mascarpone — at room temperature
poundcake

Mix strawberries, sugar, and 3 tablespoons of Fangelica and allow to macerate for an hour at room temperature. Whip remaining Frangelica with mascarpone.

Place one or two pieces of poundcake in the bottom of a glass, drizzle with some of the strawberry juice, add a spoonful of mascarpone, and a couple of spoonfuls of strawberries. Repeat and add a last dollop of mascarpone to the top layer of berrries. Serves 4.

Although I made this last weekend, I’m posting it here today in honor of St George’s Day.

Technorati: Food | recipe | dessert | fruit | strawberries | trifle | What’s For Pud?

Country Ham

Feelin’ Country

Yesterday I found a new product in the deli section of the supermarket. It was in a vacuum pack and hanging with the packages of sliced salami, ham, cheese, and other sandwich fixings — Shaved Country Ham. Woo hoo!

The product was from Clifty Farms — a Tennessee company that sells whole country hams as well as country ham steaks, ham pieces (for seasoning), and thin slices of raw ham for biscuits.

Red meat is not bad for you. Now blue-green meat, that’s bad for you! ~ Tommy Smothers

Clifty doesn’t make the best country ham around, but it’s pretty good and Clifty does make the most ubiquitous products (you can find the company’s ham in most grocery stores in the area) in the greatest range of packaging. This product was different in several ways. It was pre-cooked, sliced very thin (about 1/16 inch), and being marketed as a sandwich meat. It was also labeled “American Prosciutto,” but I’ll save you my rant about that. Suffice to say, I had no choice but to buy a package and make a sandwich.

I decided a panini would be best. I had a loaf of fairly good French bread that was getting old, but would do fine for a grilled sandwich and I bought a wedge of Alpenzeller reasoning that its flavor was strong enough to stand up to the ham. Brushed with olive oil and grilled on my cast iron grill pan, I had a marvelous lunch with the salt in the ham pairing perfectly with the acid in the cheese.

By the way, Clifty Farms products are available online as well.

Technorati: Food | recipe | sandwich | panini | country ham

Asparagus Parmesan

2000 Years of Asparagus

Asparagus is a member of the lily family and related to onions and leeks. The word itself comes from the Greek word aspharagos, which derived from the Persian word asparag, meaning sprout or shoot and was used to refer to all tender shoots. According to the Wikipedia, “Asparagus was also corrupted in some places to “sparrow grass”; indeed, John Walker stated in 1791 that ‘Sparrow-grass is so general that asparagus has an air of stiffness and pedantry.'”

Although the Greeks picked and ate wild asparagus (as did early Egyptians,

Spaniards, and Syrians) the first great asparagus lovers were the Romans. The Romans cultivated it in the first and second centuries A.D. — primarily in the Tiber River area — and the Roman Emperors kept what was called the Asparagus Fleet to quickly ship the vegetable to their tables when it was in season. They would also send it to the Alps where it was frozen and then enjoyed later at the Feast of Epicurus. A recipe for asparagus is included in Apicius’s 3rd century Roman cookbook De re coquinaria.

Asparagus became popular in France and England in the 16th century and King Louis XIV had special greenhouses built to grow it year-round.

As hard as it is to believe, it’s possible to have too much asparagus for a single meal. This only occurs if you’re growing your own, but it has to be harvested when it’s ready because it will have grown too far the next day. It’s also better if it’s cooked immediately and kept rather than stored raw. My mother’s standard way of fixing leftover asparagus was to layer it a couple of spears deep on a baking sheet, then she would spread a layer of mayonaise over it and sprinkle grated parmesan cheese over the top. A few minutes under the broiler would heat the asparagus and brown the cheese and always resulted in a very happy Kevin.

Aspire to Great Asparagus…

Technorati: Food | recipe | asparagus | asparagus aspirations

Rack of Lamb

A Pagan’s Feast

As one of Farmgirl’s many fans and an avid carnivore I’ve been following the lambing season with great interest. In fact, I recently ordered half a lamb. I’ve no idea where I’m going to store it, but finding lamb — much less good lamb — here in Knoxville is a real hit-or-miss proposition. So I contacted a local farmer and ordered one.

But in the meantime Easter was coming on and I’ve been fixing lamb for Easter dinner for years. Usually I get a leg and roast it, but I was in a local supermarket about three weeks ago and it had racks upon racks of racks and I bought one.

Lamb is associated with a number

Vegetables are interesting but lack a sense of purpose when unaccompanied by a good cut of meat. ~ Fran Lebowitz

of religious holidays besides Easter. Not surprisingly, Jews, with their strictures on eating pork and lack of suitable pasturage for raising beef, featured lamb in feasts. Lamb figures prominently in Passover (although sometimes only symbolically), but is also a common fixture at feasts such as Rosh Hashanah and Chanukkah.

Lamb is also common in Muslim feasts such as Eid ul-Adha (which celebrates God deciding not to make Abraham sacrifice his son — that Yahweh, such a kidder) and Mawlid al- Nabi, Muhammad’s birthday.

I’m neither Jewish, Muslim, nor Christian. I just like having an excuse to buy an expensive piece of lamb and I chose Easter because it’s easier to keep track of. However, in preparing the lamb I did take a page from the Torah and used horseradish, which often serves as a bitter herb at Passover. And just to be on the safe side of the bitterness quotient, I had broccoli rabe sautéed with garlic and anchovies. This is my favorite way of fixing rabe. I also had potatoes roasted in duck fat and tossed with parmegiano.

Rack of Lamb with Horseradish

1 ea rack of lamb
2 cloves garlic, lg — minced
1 tbsp prepared horseradish
1 sprig rosemary — minced
1/4 c bread crumbs
2 tbsp olive oil
salt and pepper

Heat oven to 450F.

Season lamb with salt and pepper. Heat olive oil in a skillet over medium-high heat and brown lamb on all sides. Remove lamb, reduce heat to medium, and add garlic and rosemary. Cook until garlic just begins to brown. Add bread crumbs and stir to absorb all the oil. Mix in horseradish then coat top (meat side) of lamb with mixture.

Reduce oven to 400F. Place lamb in a baking pan and cook until an instant-read thermometer reads 120F (about 20 minutes) for medium rare. Remove from oven, place on a cutting board, and tent with foil for 10 minutes. Cut rack in half and serve. Serves 2.

Technorati: Food | recipe | meat | lamb | rack of lamb | easter

Hot Cross Buns

One a Penny

“Results 1 – 10 of about 14,000,000.” Google is nothing if not prolific — one might even say prolix.

It was the week before Easter and I’d entered “easter bread” as the search term. I’d planned on baking some sort of Easter bread last year but something had prevented it, so this year I was determined. Chocolates and rabbits and chocolate rabbits are a recent addition to the feasts of spring — although some tend to get a bit literal (and even perverse) in their interpretations of such recent addendums. But eggs are a nearly universal symbol of spring and bread is almost as ubiquitous in areas where suitable grains are grown.

I already knew of the Italian Pane di Pasqua, Greek Tsoureki, and Russian Koulich breads. The Polish Babka, Ukrainian Paska, and Dutch Paasbrood weren’t much of a surprise. I was surprised though that there were so many Italian Easter breads — Crescia, Pan di Ramerino, Torta di Pasqua al Formaggio — and that so many were savory and not sweet. I also turned up a coconut bread with pineapple butter (but no indication of its origins) and the Armenian Choereg.

Then there’s matzo, the

Hot cross buns!
Hot cross buns!
One a penny, two a penny,
Hot cross buns!
If ye have no daughters,
Give them to your sons.
One a penny, two a penny,
Hot cross buns

traditional Passover bread (same celebration, different religion) and modern pagans celebrate Beltane with oat or barley scones which are reputedly traditional. Many (if not all) of the Easter breads really had nothing to with Easter originally. Instead they, like the scones of Beltane, were made for feasts having nothing to do with Christ but instead, like the eggs, were fertility symbols.

Given so many options to choose from, I fell back on my first impulse, Hot Cross Buns. I’ve not made them before and I thought they be good with a bit of homemade sausage on Easter morning — something a bit more substantial than my usual breakfast banana to tide me through to dinner. I eventually pulled several recipes together and came up with the following recipe. The buns are pleasantly sweet but not cloying. The glaze would be cloying, but there’s not much of it and it only appears in every two or three bites, which I think is about perfect. The spices offer a nice lilt and the texture is tender and chewey. I think next time I might use a bit of whole wheat flour just to provide a tad more depth to the flavor.

Hot Cross Buns

1/2 c milk
1 tbsp yeast
1/4 c sugar
1 tsp salt
5 tbsp butter — melted and cooled
1/2 tsp cinnamon
1/4 tsp allspice
2 ea eggs
2 1/2 c all-purpose flour (King Arthur recommended)
3/4 c currants or raisins
1 ea egg
Glaze
1/2 c confectioners’ sugar
1/4 tsp vanilla extract
1 – 2 tbsp milk

Warm milk to room temperature. Fill a mixing bowl with hot water.

Empty mixing bowl and add milk, yeast, 1 tablespoon sugar, and 3 tablespoons of flour. Mix together, cover, and allow to rest 30 – 40 minutes or until sponge doubles in volume.

Mix in remaining sugar, butter spices, and 2 eggs. Gradually add remaining flour and salt, and knead for about 3 minutes. Cover and set aside for 30 minutes. Add currants and continue kneading for another 5 minutes until currants are thoroughly mixed in and dough is smooth and elastic. The dough should be moist but not sticky. Shape dough into a ball and place smooth side down in a buttered bowl, turn smooth side up and cover with plastic wrap. Allow to rise until doubled in size.

Line a 9″ x 13″ baking dish with parchment paper. Scoop the dough from the bowl and fold it several times to work out the large bubbles, then divide it into 12 equal portions. roll each portion into a ball and arrange balls in baking dish about 1/2″ apart. Cover with plastic wrap and refrigerate overnight.

The next morning, remove from refrigerator and allow the buns to warm up and rise for a couple of hours until doubled in size.

Heat oven to 375F.

Using a razor blade, cut a cross in the top of each bun. Whisk together the remaining egg and a tablespoon of water and brush on the buns. Place buns on the center rack in the oven and bake for 20 to 25 minutes.

Once done, cool in the pan on a wire rack for 30 minutes then whisk together the glaze ingredients and drizzle over crosses cut into buns. Serve warm. Makes 12 buns.

Technorati: Food | recipe | bread | easter | hot cross buns