Week Seven: All Wrapped Up In One

Okay okay okay.

It's been a heck of a week and a half.

I haven't blogged, I know, I know.

BUT! That doesn't mean I haven't been cooking. Go ahead, applaud here: (Yaaaaaay!)

So since I'm so far behind in blogging, I'm going to lump last week's ingredient, recipe and story into one long blog.

Considering I was out of town Friday through Wednesday (Yeah of last and this week), I had to cook earlier in the week. And cook I did.

Thanks to the Elk my sister gave me last July (Hooray for freezers, eh?) and this week's horseradish purchase, I made a pretty tasty Elk steak braised in a horseradish mushroom wine sauce, served over roasted carrots, beets and potatoes.

Winter comfort food on a plate. I HATE the fact that this Sunday, while cleaning my fridge, I had to throw the leftovers away because, well...the Elk was growing something on it.

It was enough to make me gag.

That said, I must admit I'm getting pretty good at cooking meat on the stove and in the oven without drying it out and charring it to death (okay, I'm being hyperbolic; obviously the Elk's already dead; Brad, my sister's boyfriend, took care of that one). The key is to sear it for 6-8 minutes, depending on the thickness, in a nice bed of seasoned olive oil or butter (or yeah, whatever, bacon grease), then flip it and sear for three minutes and finish in some broth or sauce in the oven for 10-15 minutes, depending on preferred doneness.

I know, I suck at blogging....but like I said, it's been a week and I'm gearing to get back on track.

Week Six: The Story

I know, I know, I know. It's the start of week seven.

BACK OFF ALREADY!

That was me, honing Chris Farley, by the way. I'm not even sure what skit or what movie but I felt very Chris Farley-ish typing it all angrily, in caps, like some modern day technological yell of frustration in the nooks and crannies of the blogosphere ethernet.

Something like that.

Stressed out fat-guy-in-a-little-coat fit of rage aside, I'll confess that last week's meal was a total farmer's market geek out. I truly felt like the parodied couple on Portlandia, the one at Gilt Club ordering chicken, going to great, great lengths to ensure it was raised local and humanely.

Mmm Chicory. Just like endive and
choke (frisee) lettuce.

That's because at least one component of each piece of the meal, save for the avocado, came from the Hillsdale Farmer's Market.

Sidebar -- I'm a bit distraught; I don't get to go to the farmer's market for another FOUR WHOLE WEEKS thanks to this weekend's Landmark Education forum in Seattle and then a much-needed vacation to the coast with Jason two weekends after that.  -- End sidebar.

Make sure to get your oil hot enough
before dropping these in.

Anyway. Dinner was more like a savory, comfort food brunch meal. I called back to my Southern roots, frying up a yellow heirloom tomato in bread crumbs seasoned with paprika, salt and pepper. That little fried baby sat as the boat (a raft if you will) for the farmer's market egg that Jason poached (Really...the suggestion that poaching a fresh egg is much easier than an older egg isn't a wives tail...it's WAY easier).

Who ever thought comfort food and
salad couldn't be one in the same?

The bacony cornbread, warm and perfectly moist, combined with the sweetness of the balsamic was a savory version of pancakes and syrup while the egg, with its broken yellow yoke, combined with the creamy avocado and salty hot tomato and crunch of spicy arugula for a salad that wasn't as healthy as could be but really, with the combined texture and tastes, it just really didn't matter.

The only thing that was missing was a glass of perspiring sweet tea.

Local, Portland tea, of course.

Culinary Concoctions Week Six: Balsamic Chicory Salad with Farmer's Market Bacon Cornbread and Poached Eggs

Woowee it's been a week which means, unfortunately -- or maybe fortunately, who knows...depends if you're the type of person who hates that I separate my recipe blog from my here's-how-it-went-down blog -- both blog posts are coming up today.

That's gonna affect my stats damn it.

Not that I geek out about the stats or anything.

Ahem. Anyway.

This week's recipe is in theme with how I've been eating lately: Entree salads (I mean, I've got to combat all the bacon fat somehow, right?). So here goes:

Balsamic Chicory Salad
Ingredients:
4 bunches chicory, peeled into individual leaves or stalks
2 cloves garlic, thinly sliced.
2 TBSP balsamic vinegar
1 TBSP olive oil
salt and pepper
3-4 cups spinach/arugula, washed

Directions:
Heat oil in large saute pan over medium heat. Salt and pepper it. When hot, add garlic. Be careful not to let it burn! If you find your garlic is burning, lift the pan off of the heater and let it cool down a bit, constantly moving the pan around so the oil and garlic don't sit in one place. Add chicory. VERY quickly sprinkle with balsamic. Chicory only needs about 1-2 minutes, TOPS in pan. Remove, drain.

Add to spinach/arugula (Dressing optional; the balsamic drizzle adds enough moisture to the leaves as well as the soon-to-follow egg).

Ayers Creek Farm = The Bomb.
That's right, I said The Bomb.

Bacony Cornbread
Ingredients:
2 TBSP bacon fat or 6 pieces bacon, chopped
1 1/2 cups medium grind cornmeal
1/2 cup all purpose flour
1 1/4 cups buttermilk or milk substitute (go for something super creamy here)
1 TBSP sugar
1/2 TSPN salt
1 egg

Directions:
Preheat oven to 375 degrees. Whisk all dry ingredients together in medium sized bowl. Don't forget to sift your flour! Heat fat and/or fry bacon in a 10 inch ovenproof skillet. Beat egg with milk in small bowl. Add milk and egg to dry ingredients. Fold together then pour into the hot skillet. Make sure to mix well with bacon grease and/or bacon. Bake in over for 25-30 minutes. Enjoy the heck out  of it after!

And to put it all together:
Slice cornbread and put it on the bottom of the plate. Top with spinach followed by chicory. Finish with poached egg, salt and pepper to taste.

Culinary Concoctions Week Six: The Ingredient

So...math equation for you all:

(Work Stress + Life Stress) (Lack of sleep + Middle-of-the-week Tummy Woes)  = Me cooking, but not writing about it.

I can't believe how I've fallen behind with blogging this week! Dang it!

So...with that, a brief on this week's ingredient, chicory.

Jason and I went to (surprise, surprise) the Hillsdale Farmer's Market on Sunday and raided Ayer Creek Farm's stand, meddling our way in between women stockpiled with parsnips, salad greens and slices of winter squash boasting the boldest orange hue I've ever seen, to pick up a few bunches of chicory.

"I have no idea what to do with these," I confessed to Jason, whose eye was wandering to the one pound bag of ground cornmeal (that yes, he subsequently purchased).

So, come Sunday night, I did my research:

Chicory, a/k/a blue sailors, coffee weed and succory, is a bushy perennial herbaceous plants that's cultivate for salad leaves. However, it's roots are also used, baked then ground and used as a coffee substitute.

In the US, real chicory is often confused as curly endive. They're not one in the same. However, chicory leaves also include raddichio (a/k/a choke lettuce), sugarleaf and Belgian endives.

Ahhhh it all makes sense now.

To really geek out with ingredient research...I found that the chicory plant is one of the earliest plants cited in recorded literature. Horace mentions it in his own diet: "As for me, olives, endives and mallows provide substance." While I loathe olives, at least that gives me a starting point for creating a recipe.

Moreover, Lord Monboddo described the plant in 1779 as the 'chicoree,' which the French cultivated as a pot herb (No, fellow Portlanders, not a pot pot herb). Rather, chicory is, and has been since the Napoleanic Era, used in coffee or as a coffee substitute. And of course, even the Egyptians used it for the same purpose.

Recipe starting point number two...complete.

More about the recipe tomorrow!

Week Five: The Story

Nuts + Food Processor= My new best friend.

I'm not even kidding.

Salt and peppered peppers

Last night's Romesco sauce -- with hazelnuts in lieu of almonds -- was de-lish-us (Yes, that's the phonetic spelling of delicious; don't even get the idea that I'm all-of-a-suddenly spelling words incorrectly. Sheesh!)

I mean, I would have spent HOURS slicing and dicing and mincing to get the kind of consistency that the food processor gave me for the Romesco sauce. Sometimes technology really is a great addition in our lives.

What was supposed to be a lazy Saturday was, well...exactly that. After all, I didn't actually get out of bed until well after ten a.m. and -- believe it or not -- didn't actually caffeinate my body until nearly noon (Which, occurred at Water Avenue coffee --- HANDS DOWN the best latte I've ever had. The aroma...taste...texture...body...rose...all absolutely gorgeous and delicious). Still, despite an ungodly sleep-in, I did manage to gather myself to the grocery store and pick up ingredients for this week's Romesco sauce.

It was (and still is!) fantastic!

Roasted bell peppers!

I, unfortunately, had to recall the list of ingredients from my end-of-the-week mind, which means I totally forgot sherry vinegar. That said, after pureeing all the ingredients up and tasting it's richness, I added a relatively healthy dose of balsamic vinegar for some acidic relief. The roasted red peppers added a great paprika-ish flavor (BTW, make sure when you're roasting bell peppers -- or really, any vegetable for that matter -- to line your baking pan with aluminum foil; it'll save you a couple hours of pan-saving scrubbing) and the hazelnuts...oh man, oh man...they gave the smoky, acidic, peppery base a sweet, garlicky (Because yes, I toasted the hazelnuts for about eight minutes in olive oil and garlic before hand), fatty mouth and flavor that was just...to...die...for.

Seriously, kind of a bitch
to peel. Note: Toast 15 min.

Word of the wise: When you're toasting hazelnuts via saute, make sure to give them a good fifteen minutes; the longer they go, the easier the papery film will be to peel; Jason and I spent a comical twenty minutes trying every which way to peel the outside coating of the toasted hazelnuts --- rubbing them with our fingers, rubbing them in our palms with each other, etc. --- only to have a handful land on the floor (as well as into our mouths; but I mean, who can really resist a toasted hazelnut, especially one who bathed in hot olive oil with slices of fresh garlic, right?).

Dinner! I just wish the sauce
didn't look like cat food

The great thing about this sauce was it's thickness; while I'm sure I needed to add more olive oil (I probably only used 1/4 cup, instead of the called for-1/2 cup, I was really happy with the consistency, which turned out to be more hummus-like and less pesto-ish. I pan-fried the remainder of our New Year's weekend halibut fillet which I plated atop a salad of arugula, avocado, grapefruit and homemade croutons and carefully spooned a heaping tablespoon of Romesco sauce -- okay...Romesco dip -- on top of the lemony halibut for a light, but filling Saturday evening meal.

It really was the perfect way to end a very, VERY lazy Saturday.

Culinary Concoctions Week Five: Romesco Sauce

It's been a while since I've made a good pasta. Considering how unbelievably cold it is here in Portland (Which I say, knowing that the rest of the country is in far, far worse shape than us. I spoke with a client this morning who said Houston is rocking a tepid 28 degrees. My sister in Butte told me not to complain, too; Western Montana is enjoying a brisk NEGATIVE 10 degrees.), I figured a nice steaming pasta would work as a great end-of-the-week tuck in.

While I first imagined making a kind of pesto sauce with the hazelnuts, I decided to head more North in my Mediterranean inspired sauce and land in Spain for Romesco sauce. Although it's usually made with almonds, many recipe variations -- including one from Portland's very beloved Vitaly Paley of, you guessed it, Paley's Place -- swap out almonds with hazelnuts.

So...recipe as follows:

Romesco with Hazelnuts (Thanks Vitaly Paley!)


Ingredients
8 Nyora Chiles
2 large red bell peppers
3/4 cups plus 2 TBSP extra virgin olive oil (See Clara? I didn't go all [ugh] Rachel Ray and evoo it there)
1/2 cup raw hazelnuts
2 TBSP fine breadcrumbs
2 cloves garlic, coarsely chopped
1 medium tomato peeled and deseeded (Or if you're super mature like me, dejizzed)
2 TBSP sherry vinegar
Coarse salt and freshly ground black pepper (But come on, it's me, those go without saying)

Directions
1. Preheat oven to 450.
2. Snap the stems of the Nyora peppers. Shake out and discard seeds. Like any pepper, DON'T GET THE SEEDS IN YOUR EYES PEOPLE! (Also, if you're like me, don't cut yourself while chopping them.) Put the peppers in a heatproof bowl and cover with 2 cups of boiling water. Cover the bowl with a plate and the peppers soften for about 20 minutes. CAREFULLY pour the liquid out and dry the peppers on a paper towel.
3. While the Nyora peppers are soaking, roast red bell peppers, for about 30 minutes on a roasting pan. Make sure to turn them every 10 minutes or so. Place in paper bag, close bag and let cool.
4. Heat 2 TBSP olive oil in small skillet over medium heat. Add hazelnuts and cook, shaking the pan, until browned; about 4 minutes. Drain hazelnuts and let cool. Remove as much of the outside paper coating as possible.
5. Combine Nyoras, roasted bell peppers, hazelnuts, breadcrumbs, garlic, tomatoes, sherry vinegar and 1/2 cup olive oil in food processor. Season with salt and pepper. Pulse until completely purees.

The good thing about the Romesco sauce is that it can be made the day before. While it'll go well with homemade pasta, it'd also serve well as a sauce for a mild white fish, prawns, chicken or eggplant stack.

Story to follow...

February!

Okay so February isn't here until tomorrow. Nevertheless, it's arrival means I've successfully added four new dishes and six ingredients to my list of culinary goodies:

• Maitake mushrooms
• Kohlrabi
• Radishes
• Celeriac
• Swiss Chard
• Rutabaga

All to create dishes such as:

• Grilled Halibut with Spinach and Thai Chiles over Maitake Quinoa
• Bacon-butter Braised Chicken with Celeriac and Roasted Vegetables
• Candied Radishes with Vanilla Ice Cream and Bacon Caramel
• Salad of Arugula, Avocado, Grapefruit and Baked Salt and Pepper Radish Chips
• Stuffed Swiss Chard Purses 

And what have I learned so far, one month into this resolution?

1. I'm terrible at going to the Farmer's Market and focusing on buying just what I need.

2. I can indeed make a meal without using bacon or bacon grease (But why?)

3. A little bit of (soy) cream goes a long way with mushrooms.

4. Braising meat will always yield a super moist end result (I braised boneless pork chops last week. Succulent...and, believe it or not...moist!).

What's February going to bring? I have ideas...perhaps extending the new ingredients beyond the realm of fruits and vegetables?

More to follow...

Week Four: The Story

If you could put every warm feeling of winter -- wool mittens, your favorite sweatshirt right out of the dryer, the warmth of a coffee cup on your hands, the steam of tea -- and pair it against the coldest day of the season -- just miserable with such a bone-aching chill that it takes every iota of strength, courage and iron-will to get out of bed --

You have those two yin and yangs juxtaposed against each other?

Good.

Now just recall how truly, almost other-worldly that warm feeling is when you finally get out of that cold and...

Well...

Then...

You'll have some kind of idea as to how fantastic the vegetarian stuffing filled chard purses were.

Hold on. I need a moment.

Feel free to entertain yourself with this.

Okay. I'm ready.

Pre-leek-tied purse.

The stuffing turned out really great, especially with the warm savory mouth of the chard. I'll admit, in lieu of butter, I opted for a nice healthy dollop of (You guessed it) bacon grease to saute my vegetables in. The bacon grease added an unbelievably savory and subtly smoky flavor.

I'm sorry Meghann; I know you were hoping I wouldn't 'ruin it with bacon' but what can I say? The little blue bowl of warm bacon grease just spoke to me and the greedy little fat kid in me who would kill for that umami taste and texture just couldn't help herself.  Trust me, considering my growing waistline and the fact that I'm supposed to using this cooking experience to be uhm, healthy and sustainable (Which okay, bacon grease isn't healthy but I've got a solid argument that it does, indeed fall into the sustainable, oh-so-Portland tail-to-nose cooking ideology), she's definitely getting a time out in the corner (Followed by another early a.m. ten mile run).

Yeah, you can get an idea of
how small my kitchen really is.

Sidebar conversation aside, the purses were, I'll admit, kind of a pain to make. I'm actually pretty baffled that Epicurious/Gourmet suggested it as an appetizer. I mean, as much I love cooking and entertaining and wowing guests with pretty looking and amazingly tasting food, I'd have to have my arm twisted pretty hard to make these as more than just a meal (Which actually, they're quite filling and can easily stand alone as a hearty vegetarian dish -- hint, hint Piper, Ariel and all you vegetarians and vegans out there. To make it vegan, just use olive oil and swap the recipe's chicken broth for vegetable broth and perhaps add an extra pinch of salt to make up for the flat flavor of veggie broth). After all, one bunch of chard, which was about eight leaves thick, yielded six small-to-medium sized purses.

While a pain in the rear, they were still so so so worth it.

Really, had I chard in my fridge right now, considering I've still got half a loaf of stuffing...yeah, I'd definitely make them again. Right here, right now.

The great thing about that would be the fact that prep time would last no more than 20 minutes (as opposed to the 90 minutes I spent during round one) and, knowing what I know now (See tips below), I'm pretty certain they'd be even better. 

This one was special.
It needed a lot of leeks.

If you do make these (Which I so so so so SO recommend), keep these tips in mind:

1. Blanch your chard one leaf at a time. Pat dry them immediately after, otherwise, as I talked about before, the water will start to break your leaf down faster than a Portlander can put a bird on something and call it art.

2. Dry your blanched leeks asap too, for the aforementioned reason.
3. Make the stuffing ahead of time. It's not that time consuming to chop a bunch of veggies, but combined with everything else, you could save yourself a solid hour when you're hungry for some winter loving by making the stuffing ahead of time.

4. Use bacon grease. Like really. It's delicious.
5. Get creative with the stuffing. Really, my stuffing was more of a what's-in-the-fridge concoction. You can really play with the flavors, omitting the sage and Craisins for a less-Thanksgiving taste, adding paprika or curry for smoky, curried flavors, adding meat or a par-cooked grain like quinoa for extra carbs. 

Culinary Concoctions Week Four: Swiss Chard Purses with Vegetable Stuffing

I'll admit right off the bat with this meal that the swiss chard purses were not from my own brain but instead from the professional brain trust that was Gourmet (May that magazine rest in peace).

The stuffing is my own though.

Since I'm a bit lazy today and know the recipe, with directions, is online, I'll just do this thing...and force you to Epicurious for the recipe.

I will however, detail my vegetarian stuffing recipe:

Winter Vegetable Stuffing


Ingredients
4 cups dried bread pieces
3 TBSP butter
1/2 cup soy cream
1 apple, diced
1/4 cup pine nuts, roughly chopped
1 cup leeks (white part only), chopped
1/4 cup craisins, roughly chopped
Chard stems, diced
2 kohlrabi, peeled and diced
1 small white onion, diced
3 cloves garlic, minced
2 TBSP fresh sage, chopped
4 radishes, chopped
1 carrot, peeled and diced
2 eggs

Directions
Preheat oven to 375.
Soak bread in cream for 15 minutes, until softened. Drain excess cream.
Heat large skillet on medium-high and melt butter.
Add all vegetables, salt and pepper. Saute for 10 minutes.
Remove from heat. Add bread crumbs. Mix together.
Add eggs. Mix with hands until the whole stuffing mix is nice and coated.
Spoon stuffing into glass baking pan.
Bake for 45 minutes.

Story to follow!

Culinary Concoctions Week Four: The Ingredient

Hello Swiss chard. Silverbeet. Perpetual spinach. Spinach beet. Crab beet. Seakale beet.

Mangold.

I like that last one the best I think.

However you call it, chard is one of the vegetables synonymous with wintry comfort foods, even if its peak season is between July and August. That's just one of the great things about Portland -- it's freaky deaky  growing climate allows for thick, luscious vegetation to grow year round. And I love it.

Of course, chard isn't native to Portland. Nor is it native to Switzerland, despite the name, which simply comes from the fact that it needed to be differentiated from French chard. Why someone decided with Swiss is unbeknown to me still (Let's face it; sometimes I'm lazy with my research). It is, in fact, native to the Mediterranean region, first traced back to Sicily (Like all good things -- heck, it's called God's Kitchen for crying out loud!) and it's been around for freaking ever. Aristotle actually wrote about it during the fourth century BC.

Yeah; it's that bad ass of a vegetable. But here's how I came upon it for this week's ingredient:

Sunday's farmer's market gander left me with a slew of goodies. While the carrots, carrot honey (Yes! Carrot honey!!), farm fresh eggs, sunchoke (More on that baby next week) and slew of baked goods (Darn you Baker and Spice; my waist line is not enjoying the pies, lemon tarts and slices of garden bread and crumb cake) were awesome grabs, I was mostly excited about the gorgeous rainbow chard I picked up: A thick fan of NBA-basketball-palm-sized leaves of dark green held together with stalks of bright reds and oranges.

The richness of the colors just blow my mind. And it's no wonder; they're so vivid and bright because chard is freaking chock full of vitamins and nutrients; just one serving has over 700% of your recommended daily value (RDV) of Vitamin K, over 200% of your RDV of Vitamin A and just a hair over 50% of your RDV of Vitamin C.  It's no wonder it ranks second only to spinach as one of the healthiest and most nutrient-rich vegetables.

Oddly enough, water starts breaking chard down almost immediately. That's why, when storing it, you want it to be nice and dry and in a cool place. You also don't want to wash it until cooking as, like I said before, exposure to water encourages spoiling. And I think anyone who has been forced to muck out the vegetable drawer in desperate need of cleaning knows that there are few things as disgusting as rotten leafy greens (I think a rotten tomato just barely trumps the foul odor and brown vomit-inducing sliminess of rotten greens).

That said, when it does come time to cooking chard, it's typically best to remove the stems and center ribs of the leaves as they can be super hard to eat and thus super hard to digest. Braising is the best. Sauteeing chopped chard is another option. Eating it raw? Goooooood luck. You'll be chewing for days.

Week Three: The Story

So it turns out...when I have a crazy week of work, coupled with the insane ticket price of crowns these days, my culinary concoctions tend to get pushed to the proverbial, though in no way ironic, back burner.

Cooking with some a new ingredient was, I'll admit, a bit of a wash this week. While I've never actually COOKED with radishes before (Suuuuure I'll have them in salad or as crudites but baking or cooking with them? Naaaah), I have eaten them at least a couple of handful of times in my life, making me feel as though I've only kinda sorta maybe a teeny tiny itty bitty cheated with the whole non-resolution deal.

It was a hell of a week last week -- which I'm so using as an excuse -- so sue me. Although don't really; you won't get much. Really, just hold me accountable enough to push me to make something really awesome with wicked strange and new ingredients this next month. Deal? Deal.

Eh, anyway. Where was I?

Right. Baked radishes. The first attempt turned out...candied, for sure, but not quite as baked as I would have liked. Sliced, cleaned and doused in a hearty coating of cinnamon-sugary goodness, the radish slices ended up caramelizing and hardening on the outside (Duh) but staying soft on the inside. While the flavor of the fresh root and sweet sugar created this heavenly aromatic earthy candy flavor, the texture of the hardened sugar didn't fly too well against the gooey inside. It's like one of those candies that has a great flavor but texture that kind of makes you wonder, by the time you swallowed it, why you let your tongue and mouth suffer that awkward texture metamorphosis.

Round two of radishes just happened (Pictures to be added soon). THIS time around I went without the sugary goodness (I had a weekend of baked good extravaganza-ness), instead baking the radishes THEN sifting them a shake of garlic salt, for a crunchy, tangy, earthy chip that's going to be hard pressed to see its way to Tuesday.

Culinary Concoctions Week Three: Candied Radish Chips with Vanilla Ice Cream and (You guessed it) Bacon Caramel

I knooooooooow. It's WEDNESDAY and I haven't blogged all freaking week.

It's killing me (Or doing much worse things to me according to my work pal Johnathon -- yeah, you know what I'm talking about mate).

So finally, while the boy cooks up an amazing dinner for me, I'm sitting and blogging about the recipe I'm finally getting around to making.

While they're not black radishes, I am using the lovely red and purple bunches I got from the farmer's market nearly two weeks ago to make a dessert.

Or, to hopefully make a dessert. I know you can bake radishes but can you make them candied and sweet?

Only the following story (ie; tomorrow or Friday's blog) will tell. For now, the recipe.

Candied Radish Chips (With Vanilla [soy] Ice Cream and Bacony Caramel)


Ingredients
2 bunches of red, purple or black radishes
3 TBSP cinnamon
1/2 cup sugar
Pinch of nutmeg
Pinch or two of cocoa powder

Directions
Mix dry ingredients together. Wash and pat dry radishes. Remove stalk and root ends. Using a mandolin, thinly and evenly slice radishes. Coat with sugar mixture. Bake at 375 degrees for 10 minutes on foiled or parchment-covered cookie sheet. Flip, bake for another 5 to 10 minutes, or until crispy.

Serve warm, like mini biscotti or wafer cookies, with vanilla ice cream and warmed bacon caramel.

PS If it doesn't work or I alter it, I'll of course, let you all know. Wish me luck!

Culinary Concoctions Week Two: Bacon-Butter Braised Chicken with Celeriac and Roasted Root Vegetables

Last night's recipe using Pacific Village chicken from New Seasons and local celeriac, rutabaga, parsnips and beets.

Bacon-Butter Braised Chicken with Garlic and Celeriac
Ingredients
3 lbs. chicken parts (breasts, thighs or drumsticks with skin and bones)
1 head of garlic, minced
1 medium to large celeriac (About 1 1/2 lb)
5 strips bacon, cooked crisp and chopped finely
1/2 stick of unsalted butter, room temperature
2-3 cups of chicken broth
2 TBSP chopped fresh sage
2 TBSP olive oil
Salt and Pepper

Directions
Peel skin of celeriac with a paring knife. Slice into potato-chip size portions. Set aside with minced garlic.
Combine chopped bacon, sage and butter in container. Incorporate well. Set aside.
Rinse chicken. Pat dry. Carefully separate skin from meat. You can probably do this with your fingers but you might have to start it with a paring knife. Do not completely take skin off. Rub meat under skin with bacon-sage butter. (Call me Paula Deen, but you can't overdo this). Salt and pepper outside of chicken lightly.
Heat olive oil in 12 inch skillet on med-high.
When ready (You'll know it's ready when you splash a bit of water on the oil and it sizzles), place chicken skin side down into skillet. Fry up, about 9 minutes.
Remove chicken and place on plate.
Add garlic and celeriac to skillet. Fry for 8 minutes.
Return chicken, skin side up. Add chicken broth, reduce heat to simmer and cover. Dark meat takes about 23 minutes, white meat requires about 28.

You should have a lot of excess broth the chicken is done. Save this for stock! Place in container, let cool to room temperature and skim fat off before refrigerating.

Roasted Root Vegetables
Ingredients
2 carrots
2 parsnips
2 beets
1 rutabaga
1 butternut squash
Salt and pepper
2 TBSP balsamic vinegar
2 TBSP olive oil

Directions
Preheat oven to 425.
Peel and chop all vegetables to similar sizes except butternut squash. Cut slightly larger, as it'll roast faster.
Wash all chopped vegetables.
Place in large baking pan.
Douse in oil, vinegar, salt and pepper. Mix with hands.
Make a tent with aluminum foil over the pan, making sure there are no air gaps.
Roast in oven for 45-60 minutes, depending on preferred tooth. I found that 55 minutes was perfect!

Plating
Pile middle of plate with celeriac (Use slotted spoon to plate)
Scoop roasted vegetables onto one side of celeriac.
Place chicken resting perpendicular onto both vegetables.
If desired, spoon 2 TBSP of garlicky-chicken stock over chicken and onto plate.
Dig in!

Culinary Concoctions Week Two: Starting From Scratch

So...I couldn't find black radishes at the farmer's market on Sunday.

I know, I know. SUCH a disappointment.

In all reality, I do think they were there; I just arrived too late. The vendor, from Ayers Creek Farm, who was supposed to have it really had sold most of his products by the time we arrived. Luckily, we managed to gather kohlrabi as well as one of the gnarliest vegetables I've ever seen: celeriac.

Celeriac, which has been dubbed as the vegetable octopus though is also known as celery root, turnip-rooted celery and knob celery is native to the Mediterranean region. The first evidence of its cultivation has been linked to Egyptian graves circa 1100 BC. The Greeks called it selinon and it's mentioned in Homer's Odyssey. 


Speaking of The Odyssey, I recently submitted a poem dubbed Odysseus to a literary journal called Line Zero. It was chosen for publication. That's right. I'm being published! As a poet.

Okay, self plugging promotion and unbelievable random tangent aside...

Celeriac can be eaten raw or cooked. It's tough, furrowed outer surface usually needs to be sliced off, as opposed to peeled (I can only assume by how gnarly and nobby this thing is that my $2 peeler from IKEA won't last), though, I have a hunch that celeriac could be roasted, just like bell pepper, with it's skin on to produce a creamy, rich delicious starch.

After all, celeriac acts very similar to potatoes and can be served in the same fashion; mashed, pureed, fried, baked or roasted. I imagine it'll make killer soup too.

I think I'll be using the celeriac tomorrow night in a roasted vegetable medley. I've yet to decide. After all, I did arm myself with two purple and two green kohlrabi. Also known as the German turnip, kohlrabi can be eaten raw or cooked. When cooked, the texture is similar to broccoli stalks or cabbage heart and a young kohlrabi stem can be as crisp and juicy as an apple.

While I couldn't find black radishes, I did pick up a fresh bunch of red radishes which will find their way into this week's dinner menu too. For now, I'm going to keep noshing on the fresh lox and cured meat while staring longingly at the goat milk cheese we picked.

Recipes to follow tomorrow!

PS: Read this sweet article from NPR if you want to geek out more on celeriac.

Culinary Concoctions Week Two: The Ingredient

Since I want to write more than just once or twice a week, I'm going to begin blogging three times a week during  this year-long cooking project of mine:

1. To introduce next week's ingredient (You know, for educational purposes)
2. To share the recipe (Also for educational and sharing purposes)
3. To lay out the play-by-play of cooking, with photos taken by Jason (For sharing and narrative purposes)

So next week's ingredient, as long as I'm able to find it at the farmer's market this weekend, is going to be black radishes.

Allow me to geek out:

Part of the brassicaceae or cruciferae family -- which takes its name from the New Latin word Cruciferae which, as my UP alumnus might have guessed, means cross-bearing for their criss-crossing leaves -- black radishes typically come in two varieties; the Black Spanish Long and the Noir Gros de Paris. Go figure I'm using a root plant native to Spain and France.  They grow best in winter, after sowing during June through September, because their white, firm and compact flesh will keep fresh most of the winter without entering a state of vegetation (Ha -- vegetables vegetating; seems like some kind of Buddhist practice, huh?) or becoming hollow.

I mean, who really likes a hollow radish, right?

Exactly.

The black radish is rich in vitamin c, which is why they're fantastic for winter time consumption, especially when you're living in the Pacific Northwest where the common head cold is just lurking around the corner of your favorite non-Starbucks coffee shop, waiting to latch onto you. They're also high in vitamin B and sulfur, which is the culprit for it's strong flavor. Furthermore, black radishes carry a serious punch of fiber and water which aids in digestion (Which, after three weeks of Vicodin and OTC cold head meds, could be of use).

To eat them,  you have to peel the skin because that's the most pungent part of it all; I'm assuming the strength of the sulfur would be akin to eating the skin of ginger root...not the same flavor profile but packing the same, "WOAH MAN!" reaction.

Not that I've eaten ginger root peel out of sheer curiosity or anything.

Okay fine. I'll give you a full Amie-palate review of black radish skin (By the way if that doesn't sound like a solid emo band name, I don't know what does.)

That said, let's hope Sunday's venture finds me buying black radish from the farmer's market.

Wish me luck in the Portland January rain! (Caveat: Even if my black radish pursuit IS a total wash, at least I get to A) Drag the boyfriend along with me after a two day hiatus and B) Savor my favorite treat at my favorite Portland bakery: The garden bread at Baker and Spice. As my mother would say, yum-a-dum-dum.)

PS -- On a side note, I never really thought I'd get to tag a blog with 'Vicodin' more than once. Shows how much I know.