Almost Risotto

Rule Number One for Risotto: have it.

I was all set to make roasted mushroom risotto with a parsley blend when, after going through a thorough search of my cabinet, I realized I had no risotto. I had already peeled and chopped an excessive amount of garlic for roasting with the mushrooms. Everything was ready, except the rice. So I made a quick choice looking through what was left: polenta.

Bear in mind I've never cooked polenta before, but I figured that something as simple as polenta would be hard to screw up. In a sense, this is very true. It's hard to mess up polenta. But I also discovered over the course of over an hour of slow stirring and seasoning-correcting that it's also hard to make really good polenta.

Even with the parlsey, mushrooms, butter, parm, and garlic all mixed in, I couldn't figure out what was wrong. I added some fresh thyme and a little rosemary. Better. Just as I was getting ready to serve, I had the consistency that I wanted, but it just lacked that taste that I loved about polenta in restaurants. I did what I usually do when something needs more flavor. I added a little olive oil. Bam. It went from ok to amazing. The earthy flavors of the mushrooms jumped out. The short-roasted garlic subdued and blended harmoniously with the other flavors, and even the consistency improved.

I know I got lucky, but I'm ok with that. But who knew polenta took an hour to make? I certainly didn't.

Best Pesto Yet

I've made pesto only a few times - my first mishap was in Italy when I first started cooking for myself (I was studying abroad and quickly discovered that I didn't have it in my budget to eat out for every meal. The solution seemed simple. Ask the nonne at the market what they're cooking and try to imitate).

Since then I've used blenders, forks, knives, and most other utensils to try my hand at it. It's never as good as you get in the restaurants. It seems like it should be simple - basil, garlic, cheese, oil, nuts. No cooking. No fire. Yet somehow, a really good tasting pesto seemed illusive. Until tonight.

I was searching through Jamie's cookbook for some quick prep dinners. Tomorrow is risotto night (first of the season, go figure it's going to be like 80 degrees). Jamie's recipe calls for the following: almonds, tomatoes, par

m, basil, oil, garlic. I liked the idea of tomatoes and almonds (instead of pine nuts) right away. I liked it even better that my hands would be used not only to mash the ingredients together in my new mortar and pestle (thanks Jason!) but also to squish and mangle the tomatoes. The ripe grape tomatoes were absolutely essential.

The results were simply divine. We rampaged through our servings, wishing there was more for tomorrow.

Sliders

It seems that instead of supersizing, posh Americans are 'sliding.' They're deliberately paying more to eat less meat. Whether there is a deeper psychological theme to consider here, I'll let you decide, but all I know is that when you have a pound of meat and two people, it's more fun to experiment, leading me to a night of sliders.

Over the past year I've seen some pretty interesting versions, but they're all based on a similar premise: small bun (usually more artisanal bread), small patty, simple additions, fries and/or salad.

The small bun is an interesting point because bakers have churned out really good buttery rolls that far exceed the average burger bun. And why not? When it's only a few bites for each, the meat (even if the ratio of burger/bun stays the same) has less of a chance to overpower the bun. +1 slider.

Occasionally you'll see a restaurant offer regular ole' beef patty sliders. I think even White Castle started doing this?! Often (at least in NYC), you'll see an important adjective next to beef. Like "Kobe," or "free-range" or "grass fed" or "organic." The idea is that somehow because the meat is smaller, the restaurant has to make up the difference in size with taste (or at least perceived taste, as unfortunately there are many organic burgers that are simply awful). I still think this a plus. If we ate smaller portions from local farms all the time, we would be a much healthier and happier country. Off the point though. +2 slider.

Rarely, you'll even see the restaurant taking it a step further. Game. Ever had ostrich? No need to get the 25 dollar plate. Try a 4 dollar slider. Then, once you're hooked and thought to yourself "my god this tastes good... too bad they're so cute" you'll dive in for the 25 dollar plate. Brilliant marketing. One place I went to in Brooklyn had an absolutely brilliant scheme. They paired up a gamey slider with a 4 oz beer, a cheese, and a style of potato. You could order just one, but since these guys are too small to share, watching your buddy roll his eyes back first bite in will make you want to try whatever s/he ate. So, all of a sudden you've order 4 sliders and spent more on burgers than you ever had. But oh are they good.

And every once and a while you'll get a little 'balsamic drizzle' or something fancy to top it off. Blue cheese emulsion (I don't even know what that would be, but sounds pretty).

As a home cook, however, sliders allow you to try to cook burgers in lots of different styles and with lots of different ingredients. Plus, you really have to try hard to cook them wrong since the meat is more likely to cook evenly when it's thinner. Yum.

Mushrooms 3 Ways

Mushrooms are funny. How long did it take for us to figure out which ones were poisonous and which ones were delicacies? Who tests new species? Whenever a recipe calls for cooking mushrooms - wild ones in particular - I'm transported 5 years back to when I got to spend a short weekend in Sweden during midsommar. I was staying with a wonderful family who hosted a huge fete, and one of the great traditions they had was that in preparation for the grand meal, the male head of house would set out into the woods to gather the mushrooms and kill the meat.

It was as much a right of passage as a family tradition, but it rang of authenticity unlike what you find here. Parents never show their stash to their kids, and the mushrooms they found dance the fine line between delicacy and poison - once cooked properly they are divine... but make a mistake, and you've got your whole party in the toilet (or worse).

But that was Sweden. This week was mushroom week for no particular reason except that Jamie has some great recipes I wanted to try, and when cooking for two its easier to get a whole bunch of mushrooms and use them many ways.

The stuffed mushrooms with ricotta were near perfect. The outside tender, the inside filled with a zesty and sweet cheese mix (spiced up with some chili). Not sure what the cause was, but the innards spilled out a little too quickly leaving me to trim off some.

The lightly roasted shrooms with cheese on top were nice, but not necessarily something I'd make again. It's possible I just didn't do it right, or didn't have good enough mushrooms, but they just didn't click.

Tonight, I went for the more adventurous style - mushrooms in a bag with fresh

herbs, prosciutto, and white wine. They were great, although I feel like the mushrooms weren't quite tender enough. Why? Although I only had enough for one go-round, I would guess the mistake lay with my bag-folding technique (Jamie is not very good about giving those kinds of details. In fact, few chefs are in their cookbooks with the exception of the folks at the test kitchen and all their publications).

Conclusion? Mushrooms are a great accent to any meal. Stems chopped up and mixed into a sauce add a perfect earthy flavor. Caps are wonderful for sautéing or stuffing. Good mushrooms, on the other hand, are quite difficult to find. The supermarket variety are so far from the full taste that truly wild mushrooms bring. If you find a good recipe, stick to it. Otherwise, you're often better getting the goods at a restaurant (I usually don't say this). Try the bags, they're fun (and easy)!