Ricotta, ricotta, ricotta.  So versatile, so simple, so delicious when done well, and so awful when done wrong.  For most of my life I hated ricotta, thinking it too rubbery and tasteless.  That is, until I tried (quote unquote) REAL ricotta.  Not the stuff from the grocery store, but the artisan cheese that is traditionally the by-product of making mozarella.

Artisan ricotta is an entirely different entity than typical grocery store ricotta.  And for those of you who think I might just be snobby about these things, well, I must say it’s simply not true!  Take cottage cheese, for example. I have sampled and re-sampled artisan cottage cheese and compared it to regular cottage cheese…. and the result?  the grocery store variety is good enough for my day-to-day.  However, this is absolutely not the case with ricotta.

So now that we’ve established my ricotta obsession, let’s move onto the gnocchi!

About two weeks ago Steven and I decided to do a night on the town, complete with a few Berlioz pieces at the San Francisco Symphony and a dinner at the much renowned Zuni Cafe.  After two hours of wonderful music, we sat down to a late dinner at Zuni.  After perusing their tempting menu we decided on the ricotta gnocchi with brown butter sauce, along with their world famous burger.

The gnocchi were the first to arrive, and after taking the first bite I turned to Steven and said, “I just ate a little piece of cheesy heaven”.

They were that good.  If you are in SF, run, don’t walk, to Zuni to get these gnocchi.

Returned home, the wheels started turning and I decided I must make these at home.  After perusing one of my favorite blogs, The Paupered Chef, I came across a recipe that seemed like it might be as good as the Zuni gnocchi — Ricotta Gnudi from The Spotted Pig.

A week and a few cups of semolina later, I found myself fishing ricotta gnocchi out of their flour bath and dropping them into a vat of boiling water.  And the result?  Wonderful!  When you bite into them, the gnocchi basically explode with warm ricotta in your mouth.  Though that may or may not sound appealing to you, it is simply delightful.

The other thing about these little balls of deliciousness is that though they take time, the effort required is quite minimal.  MUCH easier than making, say, homemade fettucine or lasagne noodles since no pasta machine or rolling is required.  But even though they are easier to make, the effect is no less dramatic, and if you were to serve these at your next dinner party, accolades would most surely follow.

Zuni inspired Ricotta Gnocchi
serves 2-3

1 c. high quality ricotta, preferably sheep milk
1 c. grated parmesan
2 eggs plus 1 egg yolk
1/2 t. grated nutmeg
1/2 c. AP flour
3-4 c. semolina flour
Your favorite sauce (suggestions: brown butter with fried sage, bright and spicy tomato, light cream, pesto, bacon/cream/parmesan/parsley/olive oil)

Combine the ricotta, parmesan, eggs and egg yolk, and nutmeg in a bowl.  Whip until light and fluffy.  Fold in flour and mix until well combined.  Add more flour if the mixture is too sticky to roll into balls.

Roll the mixture into roughly 1 inch balls.  Pour a 1/2 inch layer of semolina into a baking pan, and place the balls in the flour, spaced about 1 inch apart.  Cover with the rest of the semolina and make sure the ricotta balls are well-buried.  Cover and refrigerate overnight.

The next day, carefully fish out the gnocchi from the semolina, gently shaking the balls to rid them of excess flour.  The flour that remains can be sifted and saved for a later use.

Allow the gnocchi to come to room temperature, and in the meantime bring a large pot of generously salted water to a boil.  Carefully slide the gnocchi into the boiling water and cook until they float to the surface, about 1-2 minutes.  Be careful that you do not overcook them, which results in a rubbery texture.

Serve immediately with your favorite sauce, perhaps browned butter with fried sage, a bright and spicy tomato sauce, a light cream sauce, or even with a crumble of bacon along with some olive oil, red pepper flakes, and parmesan.

There is only one vendor that sells cardoon at my farmer’s market, and they display the stalks in a gigantic flower vase.   Every time I walk past this stand, I think of Tim Burton movies and imagine this vase full of tall, naked, stringy cardoon stalks as a macabre bouquet of flowers…  Even with the eerie association, I gravitate towards this unusual vegetable, and nearly always buy some whenever I come across it.

Similar to an artichoke in taste, and slightly resembling celery in appearance, cardoon is a wonderful, unusual vegetable that is worth seeking out.  Most people have never tried it, and so it makes a great dish to bring to a dinner gathering.  I have never seen cardoon at a grocery store, only at farmer’s markets or through a CSA I used to subscribe to.  It’s pretty ugly as far as vegetables go (pale milky green, jagged edges), and can be daunting if you haven’t come across these stems before.  Though the stalks do require a fair bit of prep work before they are ready to be used, the flavor is lovely, and in my opinion, worth the effort (and it’s certainly no worse than preparing artichokes!)

When considering what flavors marry well with cardoon, think of artichokes and go from there.  To me this means cream, mayonnaise, lemon, vinaigrette, etc.  Here I combined parboiled sliced cardoon with potato, cream, and robust cheese This (very simple) gratin is quite rich and can certainly hold its own as a main dish.  Serve with a green salad, some crusty bread, and perhaps some roasted beets along side for a lovely uncomplicated meal.  Enjoy!

Cardoon and Potato Gratin

3-4 cardoon stalks, each about 24 inches long
2 medium-large (a little larger than fist size) yellow potatoes
1 c. loosely packed grated hard, salty cheese, divided (I used a mixture of Pecorino Romano and Spanish Manchego;  gruyere, parmesan, or comte would also be nice)
about 1 1/2 c. half and half
salt and pepper

Preheat oven to 425 degrees F.

Prepare the Cardoon:
Cut off any leaves that are still attached to the cardoon stalks and discard.  Cut the stalks into thirds, about 8 inches long, so they are easier to work with.  Using a paring knife or vegetable peeler, peel the convex side of the cardoons which is stringy and slightly bitter.

Blanch the cardoon stalks in a pot of boiling water with about 1 T. of either lemon juice or vinegar.  Cook until tender, about 10-15 minutes.  Remove cardoons from water, drain, then slice across the grain into 1/4 inch pieces.

Assemble the gratin:
Peel the potatoes and cut into batons, about 1x 1/4 x1/4 inches (no need to be too exact).  Combine the potatoes, cardoon, and the cheese (leaving behind about a handful to top the gratin) in a medium sized casserole dish.  Mix with your hands to combine.  Season with salt (scant) and pepper (generous), then pour the half and half over the top until it comes a little over halfway up the sides of the vegetables.  Sprinkle the remaining cheese over top, then bake for about 40 minutes until the potatoes are cooked through and the top is nicely browned.  Remove from oven, allow to cool for about 5 minutes, then serve.  Enjoy!

There is no cheese that I enjoy more than high quality, handmade ricotta.  For years I poo-poo’d it because all I had ever tasted was the shelf stable, strangely homogeneous, fairly tasteless, mass-produced grocery store variety.  And then a few years ago I had a ricotta epiphany!  My friend Nora (the Cheesemonger at The Kitchn and food expert extraordinaire) introduced me to artisan handmade ricotta from Saxelby Cheesemonger in the Essex Market in NYC.  Creamy, wonderfully textured, subtly yet richly flavored, I was smitten from my first bite to my last.

Since then I’ve searched out artisan ricotta, and it’s harder to find than one would hope.  Call me picky, but in SF, THE city of foodies, the only ricotta I have found that I really love is Bellwether Farms ricotta.  They make a cow milk and sheep milk version, and both are delicious.  Unfortunately, only a handful of shops carry the cheese (none of which are my  regular grocery stores), and the cheese turns sour if left for more than a few days.  How disappointing it is to be excitedly looking forward to the last few bites of perfectly textured, creamy ricotta, only to open the container and smell a sour aroma…

I have tried making ricotta before, using whole milk and lemon juice as the coagulant, but I found the taste to be a little strange, and the texture too dry and spongy… The whole experiment was a bit of a bust, and I sort of gave up on the idea of homemade ricotta.  That is, until I saw this article over at the Kitchn describing fresh buttermilk cheese.  Though it’s decidedly not ricotta, it seemed like something I would enjoy (and it’s absurdly easy to make), so one night after work last week I decided to make cheese.

And the result?  Absolutely fantastic.  It has that elusive and wonderful texture only found in high quality ricottas, and the flavor is great — subtle, not too rich, with just a slight tang, and lots of character.  The lemon and thyme add a nice touch, though on its own or with another simple seasoning (black pepper, tarragon, even lavender perhaps), the cheese would be delicious.

I took Nora’s advice and crumbled about 1/4 cup into scrambled eggs, and they were divine!  Spooned over some crunchy toast, it could be my new favorite breakfast…

Thyme and Lemon Fresh Buttermilk Cheese
Adapted from From Nora Singley’s Cheesemonger column

1 qt. whole milk
1 1/2 c. buttermilk
2 t. coarse sea salt
1-2 t. fresh thyme, minced
1 t. lemon zest

Line a colander or strainer with either a cotton handkerchief or 3 pieces of cheesecloth that have been cut into 12 inch squares.  Set colander in sink or over a large bowl.

Combine milk, buttermilk, salt, thyme, and lemon zest in a large heavy-bottomed saucepan, and heat over medium-high heat until mixture has separated into white curds and translucent whey, about 8 minutes. If using low-fat buttermilk, separation occurs at about 180 degrees and the curds will clump together readily. If using whole buttermilk, separation occurs closer to the boiling point, about 212 degrees, and the curds are finer-grained. When using whole buttermilk, let curds and whey stand off heat for about 3 minutes after separation, so the curds cling together and facilitate the straining step.)

Ladle the contents of the saucepan into the prepared colander. Let the whey drain, 1 to 2 minutes. Lift the four corners of the cheesecloth and gather them together.

Gently twist the gathered cloth over the cheese and press out any excess whey.  Do not squeeze out too much liquid of the cheese will be dry and grainy.

Serve unwrapped cheese warm on French bread, drizzled with olive oil and seasoned with salt.

Heat milk, buttermilk, lemon and thyme

Cook until curds and whey separate

Ladle curds into a lined strainer

Drain and squeeze

]]> http://www.modernbeet.com/archives/328/feed 7 http://www.modernbeet.com/archives/316 http://www.modernbeet.com/archives/316#comments Tue, 01 Dec 2009 05:49:07 +0000 Jen http://www.modernbeet.com/archives/316

A mini dish of cabbage gratin — Not the greatest picture, but still tasty!

One of the best parts of my recent move has been unpacking the multiple boxes of cookbooks that I sealed up and put into storage before leaving for Germany.  At the time I thought I was putting my “second tier” books into storage — my favorite 15 or so I shipped to Germany — but much to my delight, in every box I have found at least 2 or 3 that I have pulled out and thought, “what a great cookbook!  I really missed having this!”

All About Braising by Molly Stevens certainly falls into this category.  I can’t remember why I didn’t take it with me in the first place, but I’m guessing it has to do with the fact that I had never made anything from it before moving day.  I am quite glad I didn’t take it though, because it means I have it to read now!  And what a read it is — in the past week I’ve made two dishes from it (<– I rarely cook from the same cookbook twice in such a short period), and both have been fantastic (the recipe above and Red Pine Chicken if you happen to have your own copy).  I also have plans for about 15 more recipes, including Spicy Broccoli Rabe with Arugula, Turkey Thighs with Onions and Buttercup Squash, Sweet Braised Scallions, and Chengdu Pork to name a few.

About this specific recipe, it is really wonderful — not too heavy, rich, earthy, and the oh the cheese!  Ms. Stevens suggests using a specific triple-cream cheese, Saint-Marcellin, which I had never heard of before making this.  Luckily for me, Whole Foods carries it, and I was able to pick up a perfectly ripe specimen ($7.99 for a 3 oz round).  After tasting it, I can see why she recommends it — Saint-Marcellin has a wonderful pungency not typical of the triple-cream cheeses I’ve had in the past. You can’t really smell it, but when you taste it it has a distinct, wonderful stinkiness.  It is really worth seeking out, but if you can’t find it any robust triple cream cheese will be fine (though you should avoid the more mild cheeses like Brie — it doesn’t have enough body to stand up to the cabbage).

So, what is the lesson of this post?  Revisit some of your old cookbooks!  I bet you will be surprised and delighted with what you find!

Savoy Cabbage Gratin with Saint-Marcellin
From All About Braising by Molly Stevens

3 T. butter
1 head savoy cabbage (about 1 1/2 lbs), quartered, cored, and sliced into 1/2 inch wide shreds
1 bunch scallions, white and green parts, sliced into 1/2 inch-wide pieces
salt and pepper
1 1/4 c. chicken stock
1 ripe Saint-Marcellin cheese (about 3 oz) (substitute a good triple-cream cheese such as Brillat-Savarin, Saint Andre, Explorateur, etc)

Preheat the oven to 350 degrees.  Butter a large gratin dish.

In a large skillet, melt the butter over medium-high heat.  Add the cabbage and scallions, season with salt and pepper, and saute, stirring ofen until the cabbage is just beginning to brown, 10-12 minutes.  Pour in the stock, bring to a steady simmer, scraping the bottom of the pan, and cook for about 2 mintues.

Scrape the cabbage mixture and all its juices into the gratin dish.  Cover tightly with foil then place in the oven and bake for 45 minutes.  Remove the foil and contine to cook until the liquid is mostly evaporated, another 20 minutes or so.

Cut or tear the cheese into small lumps and scatter across the gratin.  Increase oven temperature to 375 and cook until the cheese is thoroughly melted, about 10 minutes.  Serve hot or warm as a first course, side dish, or on its own as a light supper.  Enjoy!

Dandelions’ adaptability makes them one of my favorite cooking greens.  They are tasty raw (or perhaps slightly wilted with a warm bacon vinaigrette), lightly sauteed with some hot pepper flakes, or slow cooked southern style, braised for hours with a smokey ham hock.  They are one of the few greens that are both delicate and bold at the same time — their strong slightly bitter taste is offset by their delicate texture, making them supremely well-rounded.  Young swiss chard sometimes falls into this category, but overall dandelions are in a category of their own.

I feel a bit “off” in my seasonality as of late.  Between the international move,  massive amounts of work, and hosting out of town guests, I haven’t visited the farmer’s market in nearly a month.  I am having a hard time remembering if dandelion greens are typically available year round or only during the spring.  The bunch I bought from Whole Foods was lush and fresh looking, but to be honest, I have no idea where it came from — California, Peru, Turkey, Mexico — something that is usually an important factor to me in my food shopping.  Though I am a bit critical of myself for not knowing this information, part of me says that this is just one of those times when as my sister says, “people need to live their lives”.  It’s important to keep food issues in the forefront of one’s mind and work towards a more ecologically sustainable system, but it’s also important that one not become obsessed and single-minded and miss the joy of a caringly prepared dish, even if out of season.

But hold on a minute while I put my soap box away on the other side of the room…

This gratin comes together in no time, and the simplicity of its ingredients belies its complex taste.  The secret ingredient here is the nutmeg — not enough and the dish is a bit flat, but add too much and that’s all you taste.  Err on the side of too little, and sprinkle a bit over the top as a garnish if you feel like it is missing something.  It’s a particularly nice dish since the bottom is quiche-like, while the top is pure gratin with crispy breadcrumbs and bubbly cheese.  And it even reheats well!

On a different note, with Thanksgiving leftovers just a stone’s throw away, a nice adaptation of this dish would be to use shredded cooked turkey (dark meat is preferable) in place of the cooked chicken.  Happy Thanksgiving!

Chicken and Dandelion Greens Gratin

1 large bunch dandelion greens, about 1 1/4 lbs, cleaned and stems removed
3 small boneless skinless chicken thighs, cut into 1/2 inch cubes (about 10-12 oz)
2 T. butter, divided
1 T. flour
1 cup whole milk
1/8 t. nutmeg
2 eggs
1/4 c. breadcrumbs
~1/2 c. shaved parmesan cheese (to taste)

Preheat oven to 400 degrees, and grease a 2 qt. casserole dish or 9 inch pie plate.

Blanch dandelion greens in a large pot of boiling water.  Boil for about 6 minutes, then drain, run under cold water, and squeeze out excess moisture.  Finely chop greens and set aside.

Season chicken with salt and pepper.  Heat 1 T. butter in a medium skillet over medium-high heat, then add chicken and saute until browned, about 5-7 minutes.  Transfer chicken to a small bowl and set aside.

In the same skillet, melt the other 1 T. butter, then sprinkle flour over it.  Whisk with a fork until smooth and cook for another 1 minute or so.  Slowly add the milk and whisk until smooth, taking care to scrape up the browned bits from the bottom of the pan and incorporate it all into the sauce.  Add the nutmeg, and season to taste with salt and pepper.  Reduce heat to low and cook until thickened, about 5 minutes.  Remove from heat, then stir in the greens and mix well.  Add the eggs, gently breaking the yolks and whites as you fold them into the greens mixture.

Transfer the greens to the prepared baking dish.  Sprinkle the chicken and any accumulated juices over the top of the greens, and gently press it into the mixture.  Sprinkle the bread crumbs over the surface, then top with cheese.  Bake uncovered for about 20 mintutes until the cheese is bubbling and the breadcrumbs are golden.  If after 20 minutes the cheese isn’t bubbly or the breadcrumbs browned, broil for 1-2 minutes.  Enjoy!

Auflauf, gratin, casserole…?  Because I am 1) living in Germany, 2) obsessed with french cookbooks, and 3) decidedly American at heart, I sometimes just don’t know what to call the things I make for dinner.  Gratin?  no… this isn’t elegant enough to be called a gratin.  Casserole?  no… this conjures images of canned tuna and cream of mushroom soup.  Auflauf?  what in the world is auflauf?? (answer: it’s the German word for casserole).  OK then, we’ll go with “auflauf”.  Besides, assonant words tickle my fancy… pow-wow, humdrum, teeny-weeny, sci-fi, potpourri, soporific… let’s add “auflauf” to the list.

Whatever one decides to call it, this is an incredibly simple dish to prepare. The only prep work is to seed and chop the tomatoes, chop an onion, sliver some basil, and mix the cheeses together.  There is no precooking (no sweating onions, blanching tomatoes, etc), so the dish comes together in about 10 minutes.

The end product has a fairly loose consistency, and spreads a little on the plate.  Creamy, fresh, and just a little spicy, the auflauf is delicious eaten on its own  or scooped onto warm bread.  And although I haven’t tried it, I imagine it would also be tasty spooned over pasta or polenta, or perhaps mixed with cooked whole grains for a summer grain salad (I am imagining a mixture of barley, farro, wheat berries, etc).  Or of course, you can follow the original idea from Simply Recipes and make it into a pie.

Long live auflauf! :)

Tomato and Cheese Auflauf
Adapted from Tomato Pie at Simply Recipes
serves 3-4, depending on accompaniments

~1 1/4 lbs ripe tomatoes, seeded and coarsely chopped
1 medium red onion, chopped
1/4 c. basil, slivered
Salt and Pepper
2 c. grated mixed cheese (suggestion: 2/3 c. mozzarella, 2/3 c. cheddar, 2/3 c. gouda)
3/4 c. mayonnaise
1/2 T. Tabasco or other hot pepper sauce

Preheat oven to 350 degrees.  Lightly oil a medium sized casserole dish.

Spread chopped tomatoes over the bottom of the casserole, then sprinkle evenly with the red onion and basil.  Season liberally with pepper, and lightly with salt.

Mix the cheese, mayonnaise, and hot pepper sauce in a bowl, then evenly spread over the top of the tomatoes.  Bake until bubbly and golden brown, about 45 minutes.  Enjoy!