Leite's Culinaria » testers choice

Cauliflower “Couscous” with Basil-Lemon Sauce

Renee Schettler Rossi — Tue, 16 Mar 2010 05:15:12 +0000

Eric Gower | The Breakaway Cook | William Morrow, 2007 | Serves 8

For the longest time, I fought cauliflower. I usually prepared it Indian style, heavily spiced and cooked whole, but shied away from the floret stir-fry or other recipes with whole florets. Here, the cauliflower is finely chopped so it resembles couscous and will absorb other flavors. Try this excellent version, but also try replacing the sauce with different combos, like tamarind or pomegranate dressing for a sweet-tart rendition, or add some chipotle for a hot and smoky version. Great with a glass of unoaked Chardonnay.—Eric Gower

convert Ingredients
For the basil-lemon sauce
10 large (about 1 cup loosely packed) fresh basil leaves
Zest and juice of 2 lemons, preferably Meyer
1/2 cup fruity extra-virgin olive oil
1 tablespoon maple syrup

For the couscous
1 tablespoon unsalted butter
1 tablespoon extra-virgin olive oil
1 medium red onion, finely diced
1 medium head cauliflower, stalks and stems discarded, florets finely diced
Kosher salt
Freshly ground black pepper
1/4 cup Basil-Lemon Sauce
2 tablespoons fresh basil chiffonade

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Method
Make the sauce
1. Combine the basil, lemon zest and juice, oil, and maple syrup in a blender. Purée and transfer to a jar with a tight-fitting lid. The sauce will keep in the refrigerator for about 7 to 10 days.

Make the couscous
1. Melt the butter with the olive oil in a chef’s pan or wok large enough to hold all the cauliflower over high heat. Add the onion and saute until the onion softens, about 2 minutes.

2. Add the cauliflower, stir thoroughly, salt and pepper liberally, and cook until the cauliflower softens, about 10 minutes.

3. Add 2 tablespoons of the sauce and cook until tender and fragrant, another 10 minutes. Adjust the salt, add the remaining 2 tablespoons sauce, mix thoroughly, and transfer to a serving bowl. Top with the basil chiffonade.

Brigadeiros

David Leite — Fri, 26 Feb 2010 03:04:09 +0000

Leticia Moreinos Schwartz | The Brazilian Kitchen | Kyle Books, 2010 | Makes 40 brigadeiros

Chewy, fudgy, addictive. These little chocolate fudge balls are as common and well-loved in Brazil as cookies and brownies are in the United States. Traditionally, brigadeiros are a simple mixture of condensed milk, sweetened cocoa powder, and butter, cooked to a fudge state then formed into little balls and rolled in chocolate sprinkles. I find this to be much too sweet, so I made a few changes to the original recipe, adding real chocolate, real cocoa powder, heavy cream, and corn syrup. Unless I know the chocolate sprinkles are made with real chocolate, like the ones from Guittard or Cocoa Barry, I prefer to use cocoa powder or grated chocolate for rolling—and the result is amazing. This is a perfect dessert to give as a gift for any occasion. Children will love it and so will adults.—Leticia Moreinos Schwartz

convert Ingredients
Two (14-ounce) cans sweetened condensed milk
4 tablespoons unsalted butter
2 tablespoons heavy cream
2 teaspoons light corn syrup
3 ounces semisweet chocolate, chopped
2 teaspoons unsweetened cocoa powder
1 cup chocolate sprinkles, preferably Guittard

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Method
1. In a medium heavy-bottomed saucepan over medium heat, bring the condensed milk, butter, heavy cream, and corn syrup to a gentle boil.

2. When the mixture starts to bubble, add the chocolate and the cocoa powder. Whisk well to prevent any pockets of cocoa powder.

3. Reduce the heat to low and cook the chocolate mixture, whisking constantly, until it is the consistency of a dense, fudgy batter, 8 to 10 minutes. You want it to bubble only toward the end of cooking, so it’s important to use low heat otherwise the chocolate will scorch. It’s done when you swirl the pan and the mixture slides as one soft piece, leaving a thick burnt residue on the bottom—that’s as it should be. If you undercook the chocolate mixture, the brigadeiros will be too soft; if you overcook them, they’ll be too chewy.

4. Slide the chocolate mixture into a bowl (without scraping the bottom of the pan) and let cool to room temperature. Cover the bowl with plastic wrap and refrigerate the chocolate mixture for at least 4 hours.

5. Scoop the chocolate mixture by the teaspoonful and, using your hands, roll it into a little ball about 3/4 inch in diameter (roughly the size of a chocolate truffle). Repeat with the remaining chocolate mixture.

6. Place the sprinkles in a bowl. Roll 4 to 6 brigadeiros in the sprinkles, making sure to cover the entire surface. Store them in an airtight plastic container for up to 2 days at room temperature or up to 1 month in the refrigerator.

Salted Butter Tart

Linda Avery — Thu, 25 Feb 2010 21:41:33 +0000

Jennifer McLagan | Fat | Ten Speed Press, 2008 | Serves 6 to 8

Video Interview

People often ask me how I get the ideas for my recipes. Some magically happen from ingredients in my fridge, others are inspired by restaurant meals or ingredient combinations that I like. And then there are those that come from the oddest of sources.

Several years ago I’d been perfecting my recipe for salted caramel sauce. When it comes to desserts, caramel is my weakness, and the combination of salted butter and caramel is close to perfection, with the salt accentuating the caramel and balancing its sweetness. During this time, one of the bakeries in my Paris neighborhood, which had been run by an accountant who had exchanged crunching numbers for kneading dough, was bought by the well-known Paris baker Eric Kayser. Just after Kayser moved into my part of town, my friend Laura dropped by with a copy of his new tart book. It was full of mouthwatering photographs with short, seemingly simple recipes, each of which fit neatly on a single page. I flipped through it, thinking that perhaps his tarts were better than his bread. (Believe it or not, the accountant had actually made better bread.) When I saw a recipe for tarte au beurre salé, or salted butter tart, I knew I had to try it. It took quite some tweaking, as the brief recipe instructions were not much help, but I finally made a rich, sweet, satisfying version of his tart. The secret, I found, is to be brave and cook the caramel until it is rich and dark without letting it burn and turn bitter. If you lack courage, the tart will still be delicious, just sweeter.

When shopping for the ingredients, buy extra cream so you can serve this tart with a cloud of whipped cream to cut the sweetness—yes, it does work, and yes, this is just another benefit of eating fat.—Jennifer McLagan

convert Ingredients
For the sweet-butter pastry
2 cups (8 3/4 ounces) all-purpose flour
Pinch of fine sea salt
2/3 cup (5 ounces) cold unsalted butter, diced
1 large egg
1/3 cup (2 ounces) superfine (caster) sugar

For the tart
1/2 recipe Sweet-Butter Pastry
1 1/4 cups (9 ounces) superfine (caster) sugar
1/2 cup (4 ounces) salted butter, diced
1 cup whipping cream
Lightly whipped cream, for serving

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Method
Make the pastry
1. Combine the flour and salt in a food processor and pulse to mix. Add the butter and pulse until the mixture resembles very coarse bread crumbs. Transfer the mixture to a large bowl.

2. In another bowl, whisk together the egg and sugar. Pour the egg mixture over the flour-butter mixture and mix with a fork. Squeeze a bit of the mixture between your fingers. If it holds together, transfer the dough to a lightly floured surface; if not, add a couple of teaspoons of ice water and test again. Knead gently and form into a ball, divide the pastry in half, and flatten into 2 disks. Wrap each disk in plastic and refrigerate for at least 30 minutes before using.

Make the tart
1. Roll out the pastry on a floured surface and line a 9-inch or 9 1/2-inch (23-cm or 24-cm) tart pan. Prick the base of the tart with a fork and refrigerate for at least 30 minutes.

2. Preheat the oven to 375°F (190°C).

3. Place the tart shell on a baking sheet. Line the tart with parchment paper and fill it with dried beans. Bake until the pastry is just set, about 15 minutes. Remove the paper and beans and continue to cook until the pastry is a dark golden color, 10 to 15 minutes. Transfer the tart to a wire rack and leave to cool completely.

4. Combine the sugar and butter in a deep, heavy saucepan over medium heat. Stir to mix and cook, stirring occasionally, until the butter and sugar caramelize, 10 to 15 minutes. The sugar and butter will go through several stages. First it will look like a flour-butter roux, then it will appear curdled, and then the butter will leak out of the sugar mixture. Don’t worry: It will all come together in the end.

5. While the caramel is cooking, pour the cream into a saucepan and bring it to a boil over medium heat. Remove from the heat and set aside.

6. Keep stirring the butter-sugar mixture, watching carefully as it begins to caramelize and remembering that the heat in the pan will continue to cook the caramel once it is removed from the burner. You want a rich, dark caramel color, but you don’t want to burn the mixture, which will give it a bitter taste. When the caramel reaches the right color, remove the pan from the heat and slowly and carefully pour in the cream; the mixture will bubble and spit. When the caramel stops bubbling, return it to low heat and cook for 5 minutes, stirring to dissolve the caramel in the cream. Remove the pan from the heat and let the caramel cool for 10 minutes. Slowly pour the cooled caramel into the baked pastry shell and chill the tart for at least 2 hours.

7. This tart is easier to cut when it is chilled. Remove the tart from the pan and, using a wet knife, cut it into wedges. Serve the tart at room temperature, however, for maximum flavor, with a dollop of whipped cream.

Coq au Vin

David Leite — Thu, 18 Feb 2010 16:00:08 +0000

From the 1960s TV show “The French Chef” came many classic dishes. Julia Child made good on Herbert Hoover’s promise of a ”chicken in every pot” by translating her wildly popular recipe for coq au vin into the simple dish that it is, made with mushrooms, onions, bacon, red wine, and (natch) chicken. Since then, it has been recreated in millions of kitchens for decades.

Many of the versions of this dish floating around when Madame Child was learning to cook in Paris were based on ancient recipes that called for a rooster or cock (coq) well past his crowing days. A rooster who’s no longer cock of the walk has flesh that’s incredibly flavorful and sturdy enough to stand up to the frying, simmering, and more simmering required in this fricassée. In addition, the cockscomb, feet, head, and kidneys were tossed in for good measure. Blood was also added to the pot for a little thickening power and that oh-so-français touch, which put the dish over the top.

Julia knew (I’m assuming things here, but I like the intimate familiarity and the ring of “Julia knew”) that getting an old rooster and a cup o’ blood ain’t exactly easy. Not unless you live between the East and Left Coasts and have a hatchet handy. So she tried to squeeze as much flavor as possible into this dish since its publication in Mastering the Art of French Cooking and the redux years later. She smartly chose brown chicken stock, which is a homemade stock made by first searing the chicken pieces. It’s a simple and easy way of adding extra depth and complexity. Short on time? Take a few dried mushrooms (porcini or shiitake), add them to your mother-in-law’s bonafide homemade chicken stock or, forbid, store-bought beef broth and simmer gently, covered, until fully hydrated. The mushrooms, a great umami source, add an extra, indefinable oomph. You might need to top off the amount of liquid once the ’shrooms have blossomed in order to equal Julia’s requisite two cups.

We think of this as a weekend project because making it one day and eating it the next only enhances the flavor. We suggest whipping this up on Saturday, letting it cool, and then refrigerating it. Take it out Sunday, skim any fat from the top, and heat it gently—and we do mean gently—over low heat until warmed through. Considering you’ll be sitting down to a rooster-less, bloodless coq au vin, it’ll be pretty darn tasty.—David Leite

Coq au Vin
by Julia Child
From Julia Child’s Kitchen
Alfred A. Knopf, 1979
Serves 4 to 6

convert Ingredients
1/2 cup lardons, cut into 1/4 by 1 1/2-inch strips (optional)
2 or more tablespoons olive oil
2 1/2 pounds ready-cut frying chicken (a selection of parts, or all of one kind), thoroughly dried
1/4 cup Cognac or Armagnac
Salt and pepper
1 imported bay leaf
1/4 teaspoon dried thyme
16 to 20 small white onions, peeled
3 tablespoons flour
2 cups red wine (Burgundy, Côtes du Rhône, or Pinot Noir)
About 2 cups brown chicken stock or beef bouillon
1 or 2 cloves garlic, mashed or minced
About 1 tablespoon tomato paste
3/4 pound fresh mushrooms, trimmed, washed, and quartered

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Method
1. If you are using lardons, sauté several minutes in 2 tablespoons oil in a heavy-bottomed casserole until lightly browned; remove lardons to a side dish and leave fat in pan. (Otherwise, film pan with 1/8 inch of oil.)

2. Heat fat or oil in pan to moderately hot, add chicken, not crowding pan; turn frequently to brown nicely on all sides. Pour in the Cognac, shake pan a few seconds until bubbling hot, then ignite Cognac with a match. Let flame a minute, swirling pan by its handle to burn off alcohol; extinguish with pan cover.

3. Season chicken pieces with salt and pepper; add bay leaf and thyme. Place onions around the chicken. Cover and cook slowly 10 minutes, turning once.

4. Uncover pan and sprinkle on the flour, turning chicken and onions so flour is absorbed; cook 3 to 4 minutes more, turning once or twice.

5. Remove from heat, gradually stir and swirl in the wine and enough stock or bouillon to almost cover the chicken. Add the browned lardons, garlic, and tomato paste to the pan. Cover and simmer slowly 25 to 30 minutes, then test chicken; remove those pieces that are tender, and continue cooking the rest a few minutes longer. If onions are not quite tender, continue cooking them; then return all chicken to the pan, add mushrooms, and simmer 4 to 5 minutes. Taste carefully, and correct seasoning. Sauce should be just thick enough to coat chicken and vegetables lightly. If too thin, boil down rapidly to concentrate; if too thick, thin out with spoonfuls of bouillon.

Cheddar-Chive Gougères

Linda Avery — Fri, 12 Feb 2010 06:05:27 +0000

Tori Ritchie | Party Appetizers: Small Bites, Big Flavor | Chronicle Books, 2004 | Makes 40 to 50 gougères

Making pâte á choux was one of the first things I learned in cooking school, and I’ve had the pastry formula rattling around in my head ever since. When flavored with cheese and baked, it puffs into addictive gougère. The French tend to make theirs with Gruyère, I use Cheddar, and either way they beg to be eaten with Pinot Noir. For parties. I make one-bite gougères and people tend to eat 3 or 4. You can also split these and fill them with chicken, ham, or lobster salad for substantial hors d’oeuvres.—Tori Ritchie

convert Ingredients
1 cup water
8 tablespoons unsalted butter, cut into pieces
1/2 teaspoon salt
1 cup all-purpose flour
4 large eggs
1 1/2 teaspoons dry mustard
1/4 teaspoon cayenne pepper
1 1/2 cups (about 6 ounces) shredded sharp Cheddar cheese
2 tablespoons minced fresh chives

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Method
1. Preheat the oven to 375°F (190°C). Line 2 baking sheets with parchment paper.

2. Put the water, butter, and salt in a medium, heavy saucepan and place over medium-high heat. Cook, swirling the pan a few times until the butter melts; once it has melted, increase the heat to high and bring the mixture to a rolling boil. Turn off the heat and dump in the flour. Beat the mixture with a wooden spoon until it starts to pull away from the sides of the pan.

3. Take the pan off the stove, set it on a counter or hot pad, and let it cool, without stirring, for 5 minutes.

4. Now, work in the eggs, 1 at a time, beating the mixture well with the spoon after each addition (you have to put some muscle into it to incorporate the eggs fully). With each addition, the dough should look glossy and slick at first, then stick to the sides of the pan before you add the next egg. After beating in the last egg, beat in the dry mustard and cayenne, then the cheese and chives.

5. Scoop up a heaping teaspoon of dough and with another spoon, push it off onto the paper-lined baking sheet (it should form a mound about 1 inch in diameter). Continue with the remaining dough, leaving an inch of space between the gougères (work in batches as necessary, the dough can stand, covered with buttered waxed paper or parchment, for up to 1/2 hour).

6. Bake until the gougères are puffy and light golden, about 25 minutes, switching pan positions halfway through. Remove from oven and let cool slightly before serving, or turn off oven and let gougères remain in oven, with door ajar, for up to 1 hour.

Fried Brussels Sprouts with Walnuts and Capers

David Leite — Mon, 25 Jan 2010 05:15:22 +0000

Michael Symon with Michael Ruhlman | Live to Cook | Clarkson Potter, 2009 | Serves 6 to 8

I love Brussels sprouts and I cook them many ways—boiled, toasted, sauteed—but deep-frying Brussels sprouts is the best. They develop a great flavor and a texture that you can’t get any other way. These are served with walnuts and a sharp red wine vinaigrette seasoned with anchovies and garlic. It’s an excellent side dish in fall and winter, and it goes especially well with big roasted meats. You can also take these fried Brussels sprouts in an Asian direction by omitting the capers and anchovies and adding soy sauce, fish sauce, grated ginger, and sriracha sauce.—Michael Symon

convert Ingredients
Canola oil, for deep frying
1 garlic clove, minced
4 salt-packed anchovy fillets, rinsed, filleted, and minced
1 serrano chile, seeded and minced
1/4 cup red wine vinegar
1 tablespoon honey
2 scallions, white and green parts, thinly sliced on the bias
1/2 cup walnut pieces, toasted and coarsely chopped
1/2 cup extra-virgin olive oil
1 pound Brussels sprouts, trimmed and quartered lengthwise
2 cups loosely packed fresh flat-leaf parsley leaves
2 tablespoons salt-packed capers, rinsed and patted dry
Kosher salt and freshly ground black pepper

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Method
1. Pour enough oil into a medium pot so that the oil comes 3 inches up the sides. heat the oil to 350°F (175°C).

2. While the oil is heating, whisk together the garlic, anchovies, serrano chile, red wine vinegar, honey, scallions, walnuts, and extra-virgin olive oil in a bowl large enough to toss all the Brussels sprouts. Keep the bowl near the stovetop.

3. Working in batches, deep-fry the Brussels sprouts until the edges begin to curl and brown, about 3 minutes. To the last batch, add the parsley and capers. (Stand back—the capers will pop and sputter!) Give the contents of the pot a stir. When the color of the parsley becomes a deeper, more saturated shade of green, about 1/2 to 1 minute, remove the contents of the pot with a skimmer and place directly into the bowl of dressing. Toss to coat. Add salt and pepper to taste.

Coal Miner’s Fodder: Spaghetti alla Carbonara

David Leite — Fri, 22 Jan 2010 18:26:16 +0000

My introduction to spaghetti alla carbonara was nothing less than ignoble. In the early ’90s, I encountered the recipe in a low-fat, low-cholesterol cookbook I had borrowed from my friend Diane, a stick-thin Stairmaster mistress. Diane, who has an impeccable palate, nonetheless wanted slim-down versions of her favorite dishes during the week so that she could splurge on the real thing during weekends.

The recipe — which in its unadulterated form is rich with eggs, pancetta, grated cheese, and plenty of freshly ground pepper — was an anemic version of itself. The final dish was a concoction of egg substitute, artificial bacon bits and low-fat grated cheese. After a few bites, I decided to steer clear of the dish — and the book.

Five years later, on a trip to Italy, several friends and I were dining at Vecchia Roma, on the Piazza Campitelli in Rome, and there on the menu was spaghetti alla carbonara. I was resolute in my aversion, and instead ordered risotto with shrimp and whitefish — utterly delicious, but like an ABBA song, I couldn’t get carbonara out of my head.

A week later in Bellagio in the Lake Como region, it appeared again on the menu of a small lakeside restaurant whose name I can’t remember, thanks to a bottle of Franciacorta spumante. I was going to pass it up until I read its description.

“Alla carbonara,” the menu said, means “in the manner of the coal miners.” (Carbonara and carbone, the Italian word for coal, both derive from the Latin word carbo.) According to this legend, the dish was popular with miners because the few ingredients could easily be carried or, in the case of eggs, pocketed from henhouses on the way to work. When appetites knocked, a simple campfire in the woods was all that was needed to make an elegant meal. The liberal use of pepper is considered a modern-day metaphor for the specks of coal that would inevitably drop from the miners’ clothing onto the plates of pasta. Others say the name comes from the carbon that rose from cooking the dish over a charcoal fire.

A sucker for a good story, no matter the origin, I committed myself to finding the best spaghetti alla carbonara our trip had to offer. From Bellagio to Milan to Venice, I ordered the same dish, and each time something different was placed in front of me. Some contained cream; others, wild boar; still others had the temerity to sport sauteed onions and garlic, which tipped the balance of flavors.

After arriving home and discovering I had gained 14 pounds (the hazards of research), I briefly entertained the idea of Diane’s denuded version from years ago. But the real thing in all its iterations had wooed me and won. Now, would someone pass the Parmigiano-Reggiano, please?

www.youtube.com/watch?v=OHwniV8Lwfw

Spaghetti alla Carbonara
by David Leite
Serves 4

convert Ingredients
1 tablespoon extra-virgin olive oil
6 ounces thickly sliced pancetta, cut into 1/4-inch pieces
2 tablespoons kosher salt
1 pound spaghetti
3 large eggs plus 1 egg yolk, well beaten
3/4 cup grated Parmigiano-Reggiano combined with 1/4 cup grated Pecorino Romano
3/4 cup of boiling pasta water
Freshly ground black pepper, to taste

Method
1. Heat the olive oil in a large skillet over medium heat until it ripples. Add the pancetta and cook, stirring often, until crisp. Slide the pan off the heat and set aside.

2. Bring 6 quarts of water to a boil in a large pot. Add the salt and the spaghetti, stirring often to prevent the pasta from clumping, and cook until al dente. Drain, reserving the 3/4 cup of pasta water, and return the spaghetti while it’s very hot to the pan. Set over very low heat. Immediately add the eggs, half of the cheese, the reserved pancetta, and any rendered fat, and toss well. Add just enough of the pasta water to make the mixture lusciously creamy. Sprinkle generously with pepper and serve at once. Pass the remaining cheese at the table.

Spicy Tomato and Blue Cheese Soup

David Leite — Mon, 18 Jan 2010 05:15:14 +0000

Michael Symon with Michael Ruhlman | Live to Cook | Clarkson Potter, 2009 | Serves 4 to 6

There’s always an exception to every rule, and my tomato soup is it. It’s one soup that can be made all year round because canned San Marzanos are consistently good. This is a dish, God, I’ve been making it since my time at Players nearly twenty years ago. It’s so easy and so delicious that it was my long-time chef Frankie Rogers’ go-to soup, the get-myself-out-of-the-weeds soup. San Marzano tomatoes, some aromatic vegetables, sriracha sauce (one of my favorite condiments, available in most supermarkets in the ethnic aisle and in Asian markets) for heat, and blue cheese for richness. It comes together in no time.—Michael Symon

convert Ingredients
2 tablespoons olive oil
1 medium red onion, finely chopped
Kosher salt
4 garlic cloves, sliced
1 28-ounce can San Marzano tomatoes, with their juice
1 1/2 cups chicken stock
3/4 cup heavy cream
2 tablespoons sriracha sauce
1 tablespoon fresh oregano
1/2 cup Roth Käse Buttermilk Blue Cheese (see Note)

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Method
1. Heat the olive oil in a 4-quart pot over medium heat. When the oil is hot, add the onion and a three-fingered pinch of salt and sweat the onions for 2 minutes.

2. Add the garlic and continue to sweat for 2 more minutes. Add the tomatoes, their juice, and the stock and bring to a simmer. Add the cream, sriracha sauce, and oregano and simmer for 45 minutes.

3. Pour the tomato soup into a blender, add the blue cheese, and blend until smooth, working in batches if needed. Strain the soup through a fine-mesh strainer into a clean pot, taste, adjust the seasoning if necessary, and reheat to serve.

4. The tomato soup will keep, covered in the refrigerator, for a few days.

Note: If Roth Käse is unavailable, substitute a rich and creamy blue cheese.