Chicken Cacciatore and Moroccan Cod Stew

When I decided to explore other cuisines, I realized I couldn't run too far from the Mediterranean. And I'll be honest, chicken cacciatore is about as Italian (American) as it gets. However, it was chicken over polenta and that was different (at least for me).

I took a cacciatore recipe from Lidia Bastisomethingorother. It was good, but the cooking time of 35 minutes for the chicken didn't leave it as tender as I wanted. It's possible I overcrowded the pan or used too much white meat, but after reading some other recipes, it seems I should have just let it go for another 10-15 minutes.

But that's not why I decided to break the silence of nearly 3 months. I was hungry, had leftovers, and fish that wasn't going to last much longer. More importantly, I had a chocolate cake my fiance and her friend had just baked that needed about 10 minutes to cool. Ok, I needed a meal that took 15 minutes start to finish.

It's really simple:

1) Make couscous and set aside

2) heat sliced garlic (2 cloves), chopped basil (handful), cinnamon (couple dashes), chili (to taste), and moroccan spice in saute pan (with lid nearby). Toss in the cod (and shrimp if you have!), let it saute for a minute, add half a can of tomatoes (14 oz), pull to a boil, and then simmer for 8 minutes. Eat with lemon juice, salt, and pepper.

Yum! Possibly better than the chocolate cake that followed, although it was close.

Re-Learning to Cook

It didn't long for me to figure out that my cooking skills were almost entirely limited Italian. Sure, I had dabbled with couscous and few other random chicken things, maybe even stuffed peppers in some vague Spanish way. Truth be told, I've got an extremely limited repertoire.

While cooking through another cookbook will surely be a good way to get started, I was thinking something a little more social. Not quite like a dining club, but I want to learn to cook from friends and strangers alike in an informal setting. So how do you go about setting it all up in such a busy city?

A story. A friend of mine threw a housewarming at her place last night. I had brought over a couple different kinds of brew, but it was quickly apparent that beer was not going to take the spotlight. The host had spent the better part of the day cooking penne vodka, rice and beans, buffalo wings, pizza, roasted chicken, coconut shrimp, guacamole, salsa, and something I'm now forgetting. Then came the cheesecake another friend had made and brought over and the curry chicken that was just fabulous. Here, near the bronx, were about 3 of my friends who had some serious cooking skills. Moreover, despite the range of pizza, penne, and buffalo wings, it was the latin flare that really stood out.

I tell this story because I want to start cooking and eating with people from what they know best. Learn how to make rice and beans and guac from my friends whose families from from latin america and beyond. Learn how to bake bread from, well, bakers, and so on. More than the food, people are connected to their food heritages in ways that make for heartfelt stories that make the dinner all the better. I hope to start soon!

Wild Mushroom Risotto

It was quite fortuitous that I had made my mushroom polenta a few days earlier. Important lessons learned: don't crowd the mushrooms, don't buy pre-packaged 'gourmet mushrooms,' leave more time than expected. I've made risotto before, but it's been a while, and it didn't help that Jamie doesn't always spell out which of the 'butter' segments to mix into the risotto at different times - it does matter. So I realized too late that I put way too much butter when softening up my onions and garlic. This set the stage for extra sauteeing time for the rice itself, and eventually a cooking process that went from 20 minutes to almost an hour.

T

he good news? The mushrooms came out delightful, and despite the extra-long cooking time, the risotto was a huge hit. (I think it was even better for lunch the next day, maybe there is something about letting it settle then reheating like a turkey)

Nearing the End of Jamie

Cooking 'through' Mr. Oliver's cookbook might have been an overstatement. It's not that I don't have the stamina for it. Some things are just not that feasible (like wild boar), some are beyond my equipment (like machine-rolled pasta dough), and some just aren't good (like anchovy related things). I'm willing to try something if someone hands it to me, but since I'm the one going to Fairway to pick up the goods, somehow anchovies don't make the weekly budget cut.

While I've made more recipes from Jamie's Italy than I have from any other cookbook, I'm not quite done yet, but I'm content to realize that I won't have done 'all' of them. You can call it a cop out, but I think it's just logical reasoning. However, here's what's in store for the next few weeks:

1) pizza (I'm seriously considering buying a pizza stone, but not sure that I've seen one that fits my tiny oven)

2) fresh pasta dough (I wanted to wait until someone had the grace to present my grandma's kitchenaid mixer with a set of pasta rolling tools, but my roller-pin will do fine)

3) more fish

4) more pasta recipes

It's strange to me that I haven't done more pasta, but that's what a project like this does. It forces me out of my comfort zone. It stretches me to consider new spices, techniques, recipes, and tastes. I am both a happier person and a better chef for it (the most recent wild mushroom risotto and shrimp frittata were some of the best things I've ever made).

As I finish out the remaining recipes in Oliver's book, I'm starting to look through my shelf to see what's next. In terms of cuisine, I'm pretty limited: french, spanish, greek, and American. I'll save American for last, but as I begin to flip covers of my french books I'm drawn toward Jaques Pepin. If I had barefoot, I would probably go for that, but for now, I'm staying away from buying more until I've used the ones I have.

Frittata Experiments

A frittata is a fun thing to make. It's quick, tasty, and really easy to share. It also has one big problem: it's very easy to overcook, and an overdone frittata really isn't worth eating.

Jamie has a really good suggestion for avoiding this: start with a really hot oven (425), pre-cook your frittata in pan on the stove for a minute or so, and basically sear the outside of the frittata for 5 minutes or so.

All of this makes great sense assuming your oven heats things evenly. Not here. So while the frittata came out wonderful, I recommend that you use that '5 minutes' as a very loose guideline. It took me about 10 minutes to even get a firm top, and another 5 or so before I felt confident I would have more than goo when I took it out. Know your oven.

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)!

On Sunday

Sunday is a great day to cook. In most parts of Italy, Sunday is when the extended family gathers early and starts preparing a meal together - a ritual generations of Italians have passed on to their kids. Sauces like Bolognese can take 5 hours, and making the fresh pasta for tortellini can take almost as long, so you really need a whole day like Sunday to get it all done.

I choose Sunday to be experimental. Why not try my hand at some of the odder and potentially more challenging recipes in the book. I guess "challenging" is relative. To many, Eggplant Parm is a staple that any deli can toss up. Street food-style fried pasta isn't technically difficult. So what do I mean by challenging? To do a melanzane parmigiano right, you need a perfect tomato sauce, prime eggplants, nice mozz, and good parm. It shouldn't be overly chewy, or suggest bland flavors of canned tomato sauce. In fact, you should be able to taste every distinct layer - like a lasagna - but still enjoy the perfect blend of the

ingredients. That's the challenge.

And with the street food, authenticity is key. It doesn't take much to batter up some spaghetti and saute it, but it is more of a challenge to get that outer-crispy gooey-inside parsley & parm laden taste that Romans would expect for a euro or two. So how did I do? (and I apologize for the bad pics, I'm still getting the hang of using the camera in the kitchen)

Melanzane alla parmigiana

Jamie says the mozzarella is optional? Then again, he suggests using buffalo mozzarella. This is a joke. You MUST use fresh mozzarella, but don't waste your money on imported buffalo mozz (the stuff is only at its best when made day of, which doesn't work if you get it imported from your grocery).

The tomato sauce is key too. Good canned tomatoes, lots of fresh basil, a drip of wine vinegar, and some sugar at the very end made for one of the best I've made. Then, if you've grilled your eggplants right, it's just a matter of layering.

I think I messed up on the cheese. I might have put too much, or not shredded it enough, or whatnot, but it was fresh and unsalted (which is the best way to do mozz when you're cooking it). Amazing. Find the recipe and use it.

Fritelle di spaghetti

I had mixed feelings about the pasta from the start. Fried pasta? Washing it? So many different things that didn't seem right. Basically, you make pasta and prepare a batter (sans flour) with egg, parsley, and parm. When the pasta is done cooking, you toss it with the mixture, then put it in the saute pan in little batches.

It took me a few tries to get the heat and timing right. As Jamie suggests, you want a nice crisp outside with a soft, tender inside. Who doesn't want this? What it means is high heat, olive oil (not the extra virgin type which would burn at these temps), and practice. By the last few ones I tried, they were nicely browned, crisp, and soft on the inside. I might even undercook the pasta a little in the future by 30 seconds. Great as a snack, but must be eaten hot hot hot.