Dunk & Crumble

Dinner

Matzoh Ball Soup

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photo by my lovely cousin, Ben Fenton

I live life in rhythms. Some might say phases, but I think rhythms is nicer.

When I was little, I collected stickers. I got into a sticker rhythm. Puffy ones, fuzzy ones, scratch n’ sniff. And those awesome, blueish greenish oily stickers. Remember those? Those guys were the emperors of the (very rigid and well known) hierarchy of stickers.

When I realized stickers weren’t all that fun, I started a candle collection. Nearly burned down our house in seventh grade. Actually, it was my friend Jessie Olson who almost burned down our house with my candle collection in seventh grade, but I would never tell anyone that.

Recently, I’ve been in a cookies and soup rhythm. The rhythm goes like this: it’s a steady hum of cookie dough, of little mounds rising in the oven, of crunchy, chewy oatmeal chocolate chips. A gentle swell of soup, of chopping leeks and stirring broth, and steam rising from the big silver pot. It’s a nice rhythm to be in, I think. No matter the weather, or the day of the week, I want cookies and soup. Sometimes in that order. It’s a rhythm, alright, and I like it. It feels soft and round and perfect, like a big, fat matzoh ball.

photo by Ben Fenton

I’m sure this rhythm will change eventually, maybe into a new found love for surfing. Or, more realistically, for berry tarts. For now, though, I’ll stick with my soup, and with my cookies. You can keep your oily stickers; I’m no longer in the market.

Aunt Lissie’s Matzoh Ball Soup
Adapted from Ina Garten and Streit’s Matzoh Meal

This soup. It makes me want to hug someone. It has a deep, chickeny flavor, which is offset by sweet carrots and mild, pillowy matzoh balls. It’s just so full of love. It’s warming and hearty, without being heavy or rich. Thanks to the recipe on the box of Streit’s matzoh meal, Lissie’s matzoh balls are lighter than air and fluffier than a blow-dried Pomeranian. They’re substantial enough to fill you up but won’t leave you with that heavy, hibernation-seems-like-a-nice-idea feeling.

photo by Ben Fenton

We ate this soup last Monday night, at our family’s Passover seder, and I wondered why we don’t eat matzoh ball soup year round. Actually, this is something I wonder every year. This year, I plan to eat more matzoh ball soup. For reals. I’m convinced this soup could spawn world peace, if people would just let it. Won’t you let it?

Ingredients:

For broth:

  • 1 whole chicken
  • 2 medium onions, quartered
  • 3 carrots, unpeeled and chopped
  • 4 stalks celery, with leaves, chopped
  • 2 parsnips, chopped
  • 1 bunch fresh parsley
  • 1 bunch fresh thyme
  • 1 bunch fresh dill
  • 4-5 cloves garlic, unpeeled & smashed
  • 2 teaspoons whole black peppercorns
  • 3 teaspoons kosher salt

For matzoh balls:

  • 1 cup Matzo Meal (Aunt Lis uses Streit’s)
  • 4 large eggs
  • 1/4 cup canola oil
  • 1/4 cup water
  • 1 teaspoon salt
  • pinch ground pepper

To serve soup:

  • 1 1/2 cups carrots, chopped (you can also use whole baby carrots)
  • 1/2 cups celery, chopped
  • 1 tablespoons minced fresh dill
  • 1 tablespoon chopped fresh thyme
  • 2 tablespoons minced fresh parsley
  • reserved chicken meat, shredded into bite-sized pieces
  • salt and pepper, to taste

Directions:

To make the stock, put the whole chicken, stock veggies, herbs and seasonings in a large stock pot. Add enough cold water to cover everything, and put it over high heat to bring to a boil. Once the water comes to a boil, lower the heat and simmer the stock, covered, for 40 minutes. Carefully, using kitchen tongs, remove the chicken from the pot. Let the chicken cool for about 20 minutes, until it’s cool enough to handle. Remove the meat from the chicken, and place the bones and carcass back into the pot. Refrigerate the meat until ready to finish the soup.

Continue simmering the soup gently for two hours. Make sure that the soup doesn’t come to a full boil, or else it will be cloudy. After two hours, remove the soup from the stock and strain it through a fine sieve or cheesecloth. Remove the solids and discard.

At this point, the broth can be put back on the stove (to finish the soup), or it can be left to cool and refrigerated, up to a week.

To make the matzoh balls, beat the eggs vigorously in a large bowl. Add water, oil, salt and pepper. Mix well. Add the matzoh meal and stir thoroughly to combine. Refrigerate for at least 30 minutes, and up to 1 hour.

Partially fill a large pot with water and bring it to a boil. Moisten hands with cold water and form matzoh meal mixture into balls, about 1 inch in diameter. Drop the matzoh balls into the water, and boil for 30 minutes. Drain on a paper-towel lined cookie sheet.

Note: At this point, the matzoh balls can be flash frozen, right on the cookie sheet (just remove the paper towels first). They store well in a zip-top bag in the freezer. To reheat, just drop them, frozen, into simmering stock and cook for about 20 minutes, until warmed through.

To finish the soup, reheat the stock in a large pot, bringing it to a simmer. (If you’ve refrigerated the stock and it’s cold, skim off the layer of fat on top before adding the stock to your pot). Add carrots, celery, matzoh balls, and salt and pepper, to taste. Simmer the soup until the matzoh balls are warmed through (about 20 minutes, if they’ve been frozen). Add the reserved shredded chicken and simmer a few minutes more, until chicken has warmed. Add the fresh herbs, and serve immediately.

Makes about 4 quarts of soup, and 10-12 matzoh balls.

Leek and Parsnip Soup

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Never gave much thought to parsnips. I mean, why should I? Parsnips. Albino carrots, really. With skinny tails. Easy to overlook in the root vegetable department.

Y’know? What’s a parsnip ever done for me?

Parsnips don’t do my laundry, or help with good hair days, or pay my taxes, or remember to DVR American Idol. They don’t take good photographs, or vacuum the rug, or sing at all prettily, and they don’t help make dinn– oh.

They do. Turns out they make an excellent dinner.

…

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Turkey Feta Burgers with Olives and Tomato Jam

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Because it’s getting warmer out, and because I can’t in good conscience give you another cookie recipe.

Because I love olives, and hope you do, too.

Because burgers made with turkey don’t have to taste like cardboard.

Because the phrase tomato jam just sounds so cozy and delicious.

Because the Katies and Perri and I ate them together, with pearl barley salad and wine. And wine. And wine. And wine.

Because I care about you.

Just because. Turkey feta burgers with olives. And tomato jam.

…

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Chicken Tortilla Soup

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I recently came across this little verse and I think it’s sort of fantastic.

They dined on mince, and slices of quince,
Which they ate with a runcible spoon;
And hand in hand, on the edge of the sand,
They danced by the light of the moon.

It was written by Edward Lear in 1871 as part of a longer poem called The Owl and the Pussycat. I’ve only just heard of it – how is that possible? The poem is funny and charming and ridiculous, and discusses a “beautiful pea green boat,” a singing owl (an “elegant fowl”) and a “land where the Bong-tree grows.” And, as we’ve learned, something called a runcible spoon.


Illustration by Edward Lear

A runcible spoon. Couldn’t you just eat that up? Isn’t that the most satisfying morsel of verse? Don’t you want something you can call runcible?

Well, I do. I looked it up and found out that runcible isn’t even a real word; Edward Lear just made it up and put it into several of his poems. Isn’t that the greatest thing you’ve ever heard?

Here are six things I’d like to runcibly eat with a spoon:

1. Chocolate Ice Cream


2. Curried Squash Soup (here’s the recipe)


3. Aunt Marie’s granola with cranberries, pecans and dates (here’s the recipe)


4. An entire jar of peanut butter. Or Nutella.

5. Apple Betty (recipe here)


6. Chicken Tortilla Soup


Chicken Tortilla Soup
Adapted from Rebecca Goldfarb & The Social Table

Ingredients:

  • 8 cups chicken stock (I like low-sodium)
  • 2 large chicken breasts, boneless & skinless
  • 1 head garlic
  • 1 cup canned crushed tomatoes
  • 1 dried chipotle pepper
  • 2 limes
  • 1 large onion, finely diced
  • 1.5 cups sweet corn kernels, fresh or frozen
  • 2 Tablespoons cilantro, chopped
  • salt & pepper to taste
  • shredded sharp cheese, for garnish
  • toasted tortilla strips or crushed tortilla chips, for garnish

Directions:

Preheat the oven to 375ºF. Once the oven is hot, roast the garlic: leave the garlic bulb whole and slice off the very top of the bulb, exposing the individual garlic cloves. Drizzle some olive oil to cover the exposed cloves, and wrap the entire bulb in some tin foil. Place the foil-covered garlic straight on an oven rack and roast for about 45 minutes, until golden brown and fragrant. Remove from oven and set aside.

In a large pot, bring the chicken stock to a boil. Add the whole chicken breasts and lower the stock to a simmer. Poach the chicken in the broth until fully cooked, about 25 minutes. Remove the chicken from the broth and let cool on a plate. Bring the stock back up to a boil.

Once boiling, add the diced onions, tomatoes, and chipotle pepper to the stock. Squeeze the individual cloves from the head of roasted garlic into the stock. Reduce soup to a simmer and cook gently for about 30 minutes.

While the soup is simmering, shred the cooled chicken breasts.

Once the soup has been simmering for about 30 minutes and smells a bit smoky from the chipotle, remove the chipotle chili from the soup and discard. Add the corn, lime juice, cilantro and shredded chicken. Simmer for an additional 10 minutes or until the chicken is warmed through.

Serve with a handful of shredded cheese, some toasted tortilla, and a spoon, runcible or otherwise.

Serves about 8.

Grandma’s Roast Chicken with Onions and Potatoes

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If I ever have to spend some time at a hospital, as a patient I mean, I’d like for you to bring me a milkshake. Milkshakes are an appropriate gift any time, of course, but I think being a patient at a hospital, especially, calls for a black and white or, at least, a coffee milkshake.


Grandma seems to like them. Grandma’s in the hospital, recovering from some pretty major cardiac surgery. Without going into all the aortic details, I’ll just say that it was scary stuff, and dammit all to hell if all those tubes and wires and nurses and drips and drugs wouldn’t just make me lose my mind. But, not Grandma.

She has her good days and bad, but Grams is what we like to call a trooper. Like, with a capital T. She ignores all the wires, the needles, the web of plastic tubes. She got agitated in the Intensive Care Unit, not because she was, well, in the ICU, but because she found out that the Yankees had lost their two-game lead in the AL East. Hooked up to multiple beeping screens and monitors, she smiles at the nurses who come in to prick her already purple fingers (under the guise of “checking sugar levels,” load of finger-bruising hogwash, if you ask me), jokes with the physical therapists who make her walk the halls until she’s breathless, refuses to flinch while throwing back her daily 12-pill cocktail and, through the entire ordeal, somehow emerges with absolutely flawless hair.

As beautifully as she’s handling the whole thing, it’s not been easy.  It’s hard to watch someone you love in pain, being uncomfortably poked and prodded and pushed to exhaustion, and handle the fact that you can do, oh, nothing about it.

Except, of course, bring food.  Forget the fact that all of the meds leave Grandma with virtually no appetite – I don’t really care.A milkshake, some applesauce, freshly baked biscotti, home made egg salad – these are things I can control and, well, I’m bringing them.  Never mind that it’s usually Gram’s many visitors, and not Gram herself, doing most of the snacking.  It makes me feel better to be rolling and cutting biscotti, chopping veggies, to be armed with a milkshake as I roam the stark hospital corridors.

I’m not sure when Grandma will be out of the hospital – hopefully pretty soon – but one thing is for certain – pricked and bruised and wired and tubed she may be, but she’ll definitely never be hungry.

Grandma’s Roast Chicken with Onions and Potatoes

It’s hard having a Grandma in the hospital, but it’s equally hard having a mother whose mother is in the hospital.Mom’s been driving herself into the ground trying to stay on top of her already stressful job and keep an eagle eye on Gram’s care, so I made this chicken to have in the house, where it’d be waiting as an easy and comforting dinner after long days spent shuttling from the office to the hospital and back again.

Ingredients:

  • 2-3 medium onions, sliced into half-rings
  • ¾ pound baby yellow or Yukon Gold potatoes, sliced in half
  • olive oil
  • 1 whole chicken (bone-in & skin-on), cut into 8 pieces
  • 1 lemon
  • 1 bunch fresh thyme
  • salt
  • pepper

Directions:

Preheat the oven to 400ºF.Toss the onion slices and potatoes with olive oil, salt and pepper, and arrange on the bottom of a large glass baking dish.

Rub the chicken pieces with olive oil, and season with salt and pepper.Arrange the chicken, skin-side up, on top of the onion/potato bed.

Slice the lemon in half, and squeeze the juice from ½ the lemon over the chicken, onions and potatoes.Cut a few thin slices of lemon and arrange on top of the dish.Squeeze the juice of the remaining piece of lemon onto the casserole.

Sprinkle a generous amount of thyme leaves, and a few whole thyme stems, on top of the chicken, onions and potatoes.


Bake the chicken at 400ºF for about an hour, until the skin gets dark and crispy and the meat’s juices run clear.Serve with a bit of rice and a crisp arugula salad.

Note: this dish can easily be made ahead of time – just let the chicken cool before storing it in the fridge or freezer, and, when you’re ready to eat, cover the dish with foil and reheat in a 350º oven for about ½ hour.

Serves 4-6.

Laura and Peter’s Engagement Fluke

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So… that happened.

Summer? Over. Private chef duties? Done like dishes.

vanilla cream cheese frosting covers carrot cake with walnuts
shrimp salad in zucchini ribbons
chocolate chip meringue cookies
vanilla flower cupcakes
tomato artichoke salad cups
chocolate chip pecan blondies

A few days ago, Labor Day came and went, oblivious to its surroundings, including a fake hurricane on Long Island (Earl who?), an accepted proposal (congrats, Laura and Peter!), a subsequent celebratory family dance party (work it, Aunt Lissie) and, finally, the end of my employment in the Hamptons (yes! Not that I didn’t like it. I’m just, you know, glad it’s over).

To be honest, as jobs go, this one wasn’t all bad; I got to cook everyday, and I got paid to do it. I learned how best to accommodate a family with different preferences and tastes, and how to cook for a crowd on short notice. I got to experiment with menu ideas and recipes, and discovered that I make damn good biscotti. And scones. And coconut cake.

Living and working in someone else’s house in a town miles from anyone you know and love, though, can feel pretty isolating. And by “pretty isolating,” I mean “real effing lonely.” So when Labor Day finally rolled around, I left my post in Bridgehampton and scooted as quickly as possible to Gramma’s house in Montauk, to soak up the last days of summer with some good food, a hammock, and, best of all, my family.


fresh cut watermelon

I think I’ve made it pretty clear how much I love my family, but, if you’ll indulge me, I think it bears repeating. My family is big (and getting bigger – welcome, Jeannie and Peter!), loud, and wonderful. We celebrate with gusto. We joke, we eat, we dance around a beer bottle. We watch the sun set on the beach and then sit on Gramma’s deck, under the stars, our heads back, watching shooting stars paint the open sky.

Aaron, Katie, Molly, Peter
Ben & Katie
Laura & Peter. He put a ring on it.

Uncle Brad
Aunt Marie, Dana, Aunt Lissie
Matt & Patty
Ben & Aaron
I guess Peter’s funny
Laura, Julie & Jeannie
rum & tonic
some cousins


So, as far as summers go? I’d say this one was just fine by me.

Laura and Peter’s Engagement Fluke
(see what I did there? Eh? Ehh? Zing.)


Ingredients:

  • 2 lbs jumbo fluke fillet (or any other white fish, such as halibut), skin removed
  • 3 medium sweet onions
  • 1 large bulb fennel and a handful of chopped fennel fronds
  • olive oil
  • 1.5 tsp dried tarragon
  • 1.5 tsp dried thyme
  • salt
  • fresh ground black pepper
  • 1/2 cup white wine or triple sec

Directions:

Preheat the oven to 400ºF.

Peel the onions, and cut each one in half. Then, slice the onion halves thinly, into 1/4- or 1/8-inch slices. Set aside. Cut off the fennel fronds and chop a handful of fronds for later. Slice the bulb in half. Use a knife to cut out the tough fennel core, then slice the fennel like the onion, into thin slices. Mix the fennel slices with the onions, and then put a layer of onion/fennel slices at the bottom of a large glass, aluminum or metal baking dish. Drizzle the layer with olive oil and season to taste with salt and pepper.

Place the fluke fillet(s) on top of the fennel/onion bed, and drizzle again with olive oil. Season the fish with some salt, pepper, tarragon and thyme. Cover the fish with the remaining fennel and onion, and repeat the olive oil drizzling & salt/pepper seasoning process. Pour the wine or triple sec around the fish fillet, and sprinkle the fennel fronds on top of it all.

Place the baking dish in the preheated oven, and bake for 20-30 minutes, until the fish is just cooked through and the fennel/onions are crisp at the edges.

Serve with sautéed zucchini, grilled corn, and a diamond ring, if at all possible.

Serves 4.

Whole Wheat Pasta with Tomatoes, Arugula and Pine Nuts

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Here in New York City, Spring is springing. Want to see?

Also, there are people outside. All kinds of people, just hanging out! Strolling, even! No one’s hurrying down the street, hands clutched over the collar of a big jacket, heavy boots clunking and head bent down against the wind. Today, heads are turned up, bare arms are swinging, and faces are soaking in the sunshine. It’s really quite wonderful.

True it’s only March, and this gorgeous sun is bound to hide away again, giving us only peeking glances of its uplifting warmth until its usual playtime sometime around May, but for now it’s putting me in a damn good mood, and I just can’t be bothered to care.

Or to eat anything that’s not this:

I can’t decide if I should call it pasta or salad (pasta salad? Just seems too pedestrian for something so light and fresh), but it’s a perfect, effortless meal for these warm, breezy days, however fleeting.

Whole Wheat Pasta with Tomatoes, Arugula, and Pine Nuts

My cousin Katie made this for me for dinner last week, and I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it. It’s healthy and fresh, and takes only minutes to prepare – the whole thing comes together effortlessly while the pasta water is boiling. We gobbled this up as-is, but it would be great mixed with some grilled chicken or shrimp for a heftier meal.

Ingredients:

  • 1 box whole wheat spaghetti
  • a few large handfuls fresh arugula
  • one half pint cherry tomatoes, chopped in half
  • 1/4 cup pine nuts
  • olive oil
  • chopped parsley, for sprinkling
  • parmesan cheese, for sprinkling

Directions:

Boil a large pot of salted water for the pasta, and cook as directed on the box. While the pasta is cooking, place the pine nuts in a single layer in a large, dry sauté pan over medium heat, and toast until fragrant and lightly browned, stirring occasionally. When the pasta has finished cooking, strain it and add some olive oil to coat the noodles. Throw in the arugula, tomatoes, and pine nuts, and sprinkle some parsley and parmesan on top, to taste. Give the pasta a toss and serve in large bowls with extra cheese, if you like.

Serves about 4.

Pantry Pasta

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Level six! Level six! Level! Six!

Yeah. I’ve made it to Level six at school. Level six, for those who are counting, is the last level in the culinary program at the FCI. The last level! Gah. In a few short weeks it’ll be au revoir, culinary program, and bonjour, pastry!

It’s all very overwhelming to think about but, to be honest, I haven’t really had much time to think about it. I’ve been busy sweating over searing pans of venison and beef, trying desperately to clarify pots full of clam consommé, attempting to keep my fingers away from the bubbling oil frying our cod cakes (apparently my fingers just can’t stay away, which is unfortunate, because it’s freaking hot) and getting surly, french looks from our surly, french chef.

Chef M. is very tall and very serious, and likes to say things like “zere is nuh-zing worse den ‘ard beans. Make sure you cook zem all de way tru guys, eh? What are you, crazy?” To which you reply “No, Chef. Yes, Chef.” This will prompt him to then say something along the lines of “Who is ze best? I am. I run zis place.” Level six is great.

Here, we have a Seared Fish Combo in a Clam Consommé:


And here, Pan-Seared Venison with White Bean Ragout, Bacon, Cipollini Onions, and Caramelized Apples with Lemon-Ginger Jus:


And here, something a little less schmancy:


Pantry Pasta

With all of the new Level six recipes to learn and my internship with Liddabit Sweets still going strong, I haven’t had much time to venture out to the grocery store lately. After a long day of searing off beef tenderloin and making double batches of caramel, I found myself home at 8pm, hungry for dinner and staring into a practically empty refrigerator.

Sometimes, this game is fun. What can I make with an eggplant, half a box of crackers, a jar of coarse mustard and a rind of cheese? Sometimes I’m too tired to play, and I end up eating half a box of crackers for dinner. Tonight, though, I decided to skip the box of crackers and do something about the Sicilian-herbed olives and half jar of crème fraiche sitting in my fridge. This is the something I came up with.

Note – I’m not including amounts in this recipe, because I threw it together, all willy-nilly-like, and I don’t think it’s important to know precise measurements for this type of meal. Add however much butter and lemon and crème fraiche (and whatever else you feel like throwing in there) you like – just taste as you go, and adjust to your liking. Feel free to add red pepper flakes or some parmesan cheese to your pasta – I would have, if I’d had them around.
Ingredients:

  • Orecchiete pasta
  • olive oil
  • salt
  • butter
  • crème fraiche
  • fresh lemon juice
  • fennel seeds
  • Mt. Athos olives with Sicilian herbs (I found these at Whole Foods)
  • fresh ground pepper
  • chopped parsley

Directions:

Cook your pasta in boiling, salted water to al dente. Drain the pasta, and return it to the pot. Drizzle olive oil over pasta, and stir in a bit of butter. Add the crème fraiche, lemon juice, and fennel seeds, and stir to create a light, creamy sauce. Add the olives and pepper, to taste, and sprinkle with chopped parsley. Serve immediately.

Curried Squash Soup with Apples, Creme Fraiche and a Popover

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Well people, apparently it is almost the middle of October. How does that keep happening? I look away for one second, and all of a sudden it’s time to get another haircut and I can’t leave my apartment without a coat. A coat! Yesterday I was clamoring about the oppressive summer heat radiating from the city’s sidewalks, and today I need a coat. I bet tomorrow I’ll be asking for a warm hat and mittens.

You know what else? I’m already in level 5 at school. Level 5! Level 5 means that, when I go to class everyday, I’m not actually in “class” – I’m one of the students working the lunch shift in the school’s restaurant, L’Ecole. Kind of crazy, no? I cook lunch for people! REAL people, who will eat the REAL food that I cook for them. Almost like a real chef! …Almost.

We rotate stations in the kitchen, from garde manger (appetizers and cold salads) to entremetier (specials) to poissonier (fish) to saucier (meats and sauce) to patissier (pastry). I haven’t hit all of the stations yet, but here are a few highlights from my rotations in saucier and patissier:

Pork Osso Bucco with Risotto Milanese

A Dessert Special – Brown Butter Cake with Caramelized Bananas and Pumpkin Ice Cream

Doesn’t look half bad, huh? I’ve also been responsible for making buttermilk-poached chicken, a mango-yogurt terrine, mint-chocolate chip ice cream sandwiches and and braised rabbit, but alas – no pictures.

In addition to our everyday work in the kitchen, we level 5 students were assigned a menu project which was, incidentally, due today. The project consisted of designing a menu, including at least 4 courses, and writing a report on it, complete with pictures of your plated dishes, a wine pairing, and a food cost analysis. In short, a glorified blog post (minus the cost analysis business). Needless to say, I kind of enjoyed doing it (again, minus the cost analysis nonsense. Me and math are not the closest of friends.)

I chose to create a seasonal menu, complete with my favorite, toasty warm fall flavors (note the ample use of apples and butternut squash). Here is the menu I chose:

Course 1: amuse-bouche – ham and cheddar toast with pickled apple

Course 2: curried squash soup with apples, crème fraiche, and a popover


Course 3: herbed goat cheese and zucchini tart, served with baby greens, pumpkin seeds and apple cider vinaigrette

Course 4: chicken cassoulet with white beans, roasted Brussels sprouts and butternut squash (apologies – no photo).

Course 5: apple meringue “cupcake” with cinnamon-sugared doughnut holes


Sound like something you’d like to eat? Maybe? The squash soup, at least? Ok.

Curried Squash Soup with Apples, Crème Fraiche and a Popover

To me, squash soup is the epitome of fall – warm and smooth, with a hint of sweetness and spice. Eating it makes me want to own lots of cozy sweaters and watch football and drink hot cider. My recipes for the soup and popovers are adapted from Ina Garten and Gourmet magazine (rest in peace, old friend), respectively.

Ingredients:

For soup:

  • 2 tablespoons unsalted butter
  • 2 tablespoons olive oil
  • 3 large yellow onions, chopped
  • 2 tablespoons curry powder
  • 5 pounds butternut squash (2 large), peeled, seeded, and cut into chunks
  • 1 1/2 pounds McIntosh apples, peeled, cored, and cut into chunks
  • 1 sprig fresh thyme
  • kosher salt and freshly ground black pepper, to taste
  • 4 cups chicken stock
  • crème fraiche, for garnish

  • pumpkin seed oil, for garnish

For popovers:

  • 1 cup sifted all-purpose flour
  • 1/2 teaspoon salt
  • 2 large eggs
  • 1 cup milk
  • melted, unsalted butter for brushing the pan

Directions:

Warm the butter, olive oil, onions, and curry powder in a large stockpot, uncovered, over low heat for 15 to 20 minutes, until the onions are soft and translucent. Stir occasionally, scraping the bottom of the pot.

Add the squash, apples, salt, pepper, thyme and chicken stock to the pot. Bring to a boil, cover, and cook over low heat for 30 to 40 minutes, until the squash and apples are very soft.Remove the sprig of thyme.Puree the soup coarsely with an immersion blender, or in the bowl of a food processor fitted with a steel blade.

Adjust seasoning and serve hot, garnished with a dollop of crème fraiche and a drizzle of pumpkin seed oil.

To make the popovers, first preheat the oven to 450 degrees F.

Next, sift together the flour and the salt in a medium bowl.

In a small bowl whisk together the eggs and the milk. Add the milk mixture to the flour mixture, stirring, and stir the batter until it is smooth.

In a preheated 450°F. oven heat one or two 6-cup muffin pan for 5 minutes, or until hot, and then brush the cups with the melted butter, and fill them half full with the batter (you should be able to fill about 8 muffin cups).

Bake the popovers in the middle of the 450°F oven for 20 minutes, then reduce the heat to 375°F, and bake the popovers for 20 minutes more, or until they are golden brown and crisp.

Makes roughly 3 quarts of soup and 8 popovers.

Simple Roast Chicken

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You know what? I just realized that all this time I’ve been so busy ranting about marshmallow fluff and saying goodbye to summer and neglecting to post recipes, I haven’t told you a thing about level 4 at school. Not one thing! I haven’t told you about the amazing smorgasbord of a buffet my classmates and I put on for the other students, featuring a whole suckling pig, numerous dishes involving fresh figs, and banana split cupcakes.

You didn’t hear about the week I spent at the “family meal” station, frantically cooking lunch for 300 people a day and trying not to pass out. You didn’t even hear about the days I spent at the “production” station, butchering everything from whole striped bass and halibut to pork racks and beef shoulder and rabbit. And, of course, my fingers.

…Yeah. Apparently, production is where fingers go to die. Or, at least, to be slightly mangled.

Anyway, it’s really a shame you didn’t hear about any of that. And wouldn’t you know it? Level 4 ended yesterday, so I guess you’re out of luck. Sigh. It would have been fun to tell you about how awful it was to prepare the salad for family meal, chopping and washing and drying 80 (!) pounds (!) of lettuce that no one ate anyway, or how I’ve grown enormous biceps (total lie) from lifting huge vats of chicken stock in production, or about the day that I learned that one guy in my class had never heard of matzoh balls. Never heard of matzoh balls?! Oy.

Don’t those things sound like fun things to hear about? Too bad. I’m definitely not going to tell you about how Tina, Nadine and Rodney named their British-themed buffet (bangers n’ mash! fish n’ chips! sticky toffee pudding!) “King Hungry VIII,”

or how the stainless steel bowl we used to make coleslaw in family meal was roughly the size of a small swimming pool. Yeah, I think I’ll keep that to myself. I mean, maybe someday I’ll tell you about how I learned to clean and fillet fresh sardines (tiniest. bones. worst. smell.), or the lesson we got on how to make and cure our own salami, but for now, you’re just going to have to wait.

Sorry. Here, have some chicken.


Simple Roast Chicken
Adapted from Ina Garten

I think it’s important for everyone to have a solid recipe for roast chicken. It’s a fairly simple and easy dish, but when it comes out of the oven, looking gorgeous with its crispy golden skin and wafting deliciousness to the heavens, your guests will think you’re a regular Julia Child. With fall’s chill in the air and a side of cous cous and roasted veggies, it doesn’t get much better than this. It’s also delicious eaten cold for lunch, stuffed into a sandwich or shredded into your favorite recipe for chicken salad. The possibilities are endless, so what are you waiting for? Get roasting, Julia.


Ingredients:

  • 1 whole chicken
  • 2 yellow onions
  • 2 Tbsp butter, at room temperature
  • salt
  • pepper
  • 1 lemon, halved
  • 3 cloves garlic, smashed
  • 2-3 sprigs fresh thyme
  • 1 bay leaf
  • 1 piece butcher’s twine or string

For pan jus:

  • 1/2 cup white wine
  • 1 1/2 cups chicken stock
  • salt
  • pepper

Directions:

Preheat the oven to 425 degrees F.

Thickly slice the onions and arrange them on the bottom of a roasting pan. Remove the little goody bag inside the chicken containing the giblets, liver, neck and heart, and discard or use to make chicken stock. After trimming the chicken of any excess fat, rinse the chicken inside and out, and pat it dry with paper towels. Liberally salt and pepper the chicken, both inside and out. Stuff the cavity with the lemon halves, thyme, garlic, and bay leaf. Rub the outside of the chicken with butter, and sprinkle again with salt and pepper. Place the chicken on the bed of onions in the roasting pan. Tie the legs together with kitchen twine and tuck the wings under the body of the chicken.

Roast the chicken for 1 1/2 hours, or until a thermometer inserted in the thigh reads at least 145 degrees and the juices run clear when you cut between a leg and thigh.

Remove the chicken to a platter and cover with aluminum foil. Carefully, place the roasting pan with the onions on the stovetop over medium high heat. Deglaze the pan with the white wine, scraping the bottom of the pan to loosen the flavorful brown bits. Once the wine has reduced by half, add the chicken stock, and simmer for about 5 minutes, until slightly reduced. Season to taste with salt and pepper.

Slice the chicken and serve immediately with the onions and pan jus.

Makes 1 whole roast chicken.