Toast

Plum Crazy

I am besotted with plums, as I think I have mentioned before. When I become unexpectly wealthy, and acquire a big garden with a little house attached to it, there will be quite a variety of plum trees in the garden. There are going to be be italian prune plums, like the big, overgrown tree behind my childhood home, damsons and also mirabelles, greengages and Nancy plums. There are going to be Santa Rosa plums and my favorite, nameless yellow plums, which I discovered only last year. While I may never see my Dream Garden of Stone Fruits (there may be cherries, white and yellow peaches and nectarines, too, and probably apricots), at the risk of boring you, and everyone else in my life, to tears, my small batch preserving obsession remains, as ever, The Plum.

I have made several kinds of plum preserves and sauces in the past, and there will be links to those recipes, some of which I will be making again this year, as well as new ones, as I try them. I have this (no doubt demented) ambition to make as many different kinds of sweet and savory plum preserves and sauces as I can, from as many different kinds of plums as I can get my hands on. I am not sure if I have any real purpose here, beyond an unreasonable love of The Plum (extending to its dried epitome, the prune) and a generally compulsive nature. You are invited along for the ride, and those who live nearby (Western PA) are begged to alert me, when the season arrives, to the availability of various different kinds of plums and pluots.

It is , of course, quite a time yet until the local plums are available in late summer. I recently made a batch of tkemali, and a few jars of sweet plum preserves from some red Chilean supermarket plums with nice yellow innards. The tkemali followed the original recipe I used, which you can find following the link above. The preserve is a variation of the black plum stuff I made with the redfox. I did not include the white wine, but did add a 7oz. jar of homemade apple pectin, the vanilla beans, lemon juice, and some ground pepper, with 3 lbs of the plums. I think it is very, very good, immodest though it is to say so. I have tried, unsuccessfully, to show you how pretty this jam looks- like red stained glass, with jewel-like cubes of deeper red. This recipe produced one full wide mouth 8 oz. Ball jar, one partly full Ball jar for refrigerating and early sampling, and two half-liter Quattro Stagnoni jars.

The last are these very cute (IMO) Italian jars with one-piece sealable lids. They have them at Target, and, via various internet vendors in more varied sizes. Replacement lids are also sold. They work pretty much like a ball jar-the lids have interior bands which seal to the jar rims when hot, and a vacuum is formed- it's just that they (the lids) are in one piece, rather than 2 parts. I love the chubby shape, and they do hold a slightly greedier portion of your preserves, without going whole-hog for a pint. They are a bit more expensive than ball jars; I do wish more people would remember to hand over the old jars when they are done eating their presents-unless, of course, they are going to reuse them themselves. On the other hand, though, it is sort of nice to have an excuse to buy appealing new ones, anyhow.

BTW, I am looking for some tall sealable jars with the idea of making some asparagus pickles. Anyone know where I might find such a thing?

Planning for Leftovers: Risotto

I've read some pretty depressing magazine articles about planning for leftovers-you know the sort of thing where you make say, a roast on Sunday, and by the end of the week, you're having it in bottled barbecue sauce over egg noodles, and tossing it in your salad with frozen french fries. I am, nonetheless, actually a sucker for a good plan for multiple meals, featuring economy and clever, tasty consumption of every scrap of something truly good.

Of course, many well loved, classic dishes seem to have originated with the disguising and/or stretching of leftovers, especially leftover meat: beef mironton, corned beef hash, shepherd's pie, that lot. They are good enough that people make them from scratch, on purpose, forgoing the original Big Piece of Meat dinner altogether.

Vegetable and starchy leftovers mostly appear in soup, where they are put to very good use indeed. Right now, I am having asparagus-related leftovers, under normal circumstances an oxymoron around here. But this is the second week that the asparagus has been under $2.00 a pound at the supermarket, and I'm going crazy trying to consume their entire inventory, without wasting any. One thing I made from all this bounty was Julie's Lemon/Asparagus Risotto, which I cannot recommend too highly. So delicious, and I am bound to admit, embarassing though it is, that I ate half of the recipe all by myself for supper.

It was the other half that was left which sent me looking for a vaguely remembered recipe in
Vegetarian Suppers From Deborah Madison's Kitchen. It turns out that Ms. Madison, though fond of risotto, does not fancy it, alone, as a main dish. She had a from-scratch recipe for some rice fritters/croquettes, which had a risotto-like beginning. With some trepidation and fears of crumbling croquettes-especially in light of the bumpiness of the asparagus in my rice, I decided to try something similar with the leftovers.

These are just sooo good, you're gonna love them, and they did not fall apart at all. There is, of course, nothing to say that you must use this particular risotto recipe. It could be good with all sorts- or you could make one big pancake of your risotto, and that would probably resemble the Risotto al Salto which someone so lovingly described in the travel section of the NYTimes last week, in an article about Milan.

You need:

Half of Julie's risotto recipe or thereabouts
Panko crumbs
a lemon
a beaten egg or two

julienned veg of choice and season, and compatable chopped herbs (I used leeks, asparagus, carrots, red onion, snow peas and chives.)
bit of butter
mixture of canola and olive oil for frying

Put some panko on a pie plate, and your beaten egg(s) in a shallow bowl. Line a cookie sheet or jelly roll pan with waxed paper. Using a 1/3 cup measure, scoop up some chilled risotto, and form it into a flattened egg shape. Dip in egg to coat with one hand, and the panko with the other. (This will keep the panko hand dry.) When nicely coated with crumb, set it on the lined pan. Repeat until you have used up the risotto. Chill the pan in the fridge til almost time to eat.

Put your julienned veg on a serving plate, top with a bit of butter and squirt of lemon, and cover with plastic wrap. Microwave briefly until crisp-tender, and set aside, covered, to keep warm. Meanwhile heat the oil in a heavy wide bottomed pan, until not quite smoking, and slide in the croquette things carefully. Fry 5 or 6 minutes, turning once, until golden brown and cooked through. Adjust heat if they satrt browning two fast. While they cook, throw away the waxed paper, and line the cookie sheet with paper towels. As the croquettes are finished, set them on the paper towels to blot.

When ready, arrange on the bed of veg, cut the rest of your lemon into wedges and arrange them on the serving plate with the goodies, and eat 'em up. If there are others present they will fight over them because there are not enough. Make more next time, I kid you not.

Home-made Take-out Event

Addendum upfront : Deadline revised: you have until June 1st to make lunch!

The noodles you see here were the subject of musings and a recipe* in the NYTimes Magazine recently, and they kind of called to me. I have made sesame noodles before, and there are plenty of recipes out there, though this is a particularly satisfying version. It was the caption that got me thinking about the packed lunches I take to work. Sometimes I go empty handed, and rely on local takeout for breakfast and/or lunch, but mostly I try to bring both with me. It's really expensive to eat lunch out a lot, leftovers can be put to good use in lunches, and hey, I like to cook.

To me, these noodles constitute pretty much the ideal take along lunch, better than random take-out, and as much of a feeling of treat being had. They would work even without a work fridge, because they have no ingredients to spoil during a morning, and are best served lukewarm. Also they are very, very nice, moderately healthy, and suitable for sharing with vegetarians.

I took my noodles for lunch with a pair of chopsticks (because I just like to eat noodles with chopsticks...I even sometimes eat Italian-style pasta with chopsticks, though not, admittedly, in public.) As I was enjoying them, and thinking they were pretty, I thought about some of the beautifully arranged bento boxes I've envied, and of those nifty stacked aluminum containers (I forget their name) delivered to some lucky people in India for their lunches, and just take-along brown bag lunches in general. Personally, I am fond of this Tupperware container, which in addition to being the nearly transparent green of spring leaves, collapses into itself when empty, for easy transport home. With these lunch thoughts in my head, it was a short step to the following idea for making some gratuitious work for myself.

So this is what I'd like to do, and I hope you will participate, either by posting in your blog, if you have one, or emailing me with your written recipe and a link to your photo, by May 15. Make a home-made take-out meal of the sort you like, or would like to take with you to work, or school, or to the park to eat while you watch the kids, or write your novel, or both. Maybe it is beautifully arranged in a divided enamel container, or it is a terrific recreation of Vietnamese street food, or it reminds you of the school lunch you took to elementary school. Maybe you take it in your Spiderman lunchbox. Perhaps you can make a giant pot of it for a dollar, and eat it for 2 weeks without getting bored? Whatever you like.

If you can, take a picture of it, and also, importantly, of the container or containers you will carry it in. Email (lindystoast at gmail dot com) me your link anytime on or before May 15, and I will have a round-up shortly thereafter. I think there's a lot of scope for individual cleverness here, and I'm looking forward to seeing some goodies, and getting some ideas for future lunches.

Let's, uh, do lunch.

*n.b. Recipe available in comments section, scroll down to check it out.
The cloth is for tying up your lunch-or anything else- you just put the thing in the middle, and make two ties across the top from the corners. They become a handle. It was a present from the redfox, quite a few years ago, when she lived in the Berkeley. She took me to Japantown in SF, when I visited for Christmas- and that is where it comes from. I am partial to the bunny motif.

Penne My Way

Immodestly, I must tell you that I'm feeling clever. Probably someone else has already made an identical sauce, but they didn't tell me about it. I found the idea right in my own head. I actually think that this sauce is yummy in the way of an Italian-American "Sunday Gravy" or a Neopolitan Ragu: rich, soft , sweet, and full of subtle, complex flavors that meld in long cooking. Moreover, it is extremely easy to make, requiring only time (well, also, thyme), since you must start a day ahead. It is, as well, dependant on following a rule I learned, I think, from my daughter, if I'm not mistaken.

That rule is, if you are going to combine a dried legume with tomatoes, or any other acidic item, you had better let said legume get as soft as you want it before you add the acid element, 'cause once you add it, the beans ain't getting any softer. You could cook those legumes for 24 hours, in a gallon of liquid, and they would not soften an iota more. So, being as there are both tomatoes and lentils involved here, youve got to hold back on the tomatoes til the lentils are done. But then, once you add the tomato and/or lemon juice, the lentils will hold their shape, and not go too mushy. Magic.

The caveat here is that this is a lamb sauce, and it is nothing if not lamb-y, so if you just tolerate the flavor of lamb, and don't love it, skip this dish. The bonus is cheapness. It is cheapy, cheapy, cheap. I used ordinary old supermarket lentils, though it might be even better with the lovely bluey green, or caviar black ones. And the other bonus-two suppers for two people, plain pasta with sauce, and the baked one. Don't leave out the lemon, whatever you do.

This is what you need:

Day one:

One lamb shank (only one. Mine was smallish and cost $2.00)
2 tbsps olive oil
handful lentils
chopped or "baby" carots
a chopped fennel bulb (save some fronds)
small yellow onion, chopped
2 unpeeled garlic cloves
sprig thyme
sprig marjoram
2" strip lemon peel
sea salt
pepper
flour for dredging
2 cups puree made from canned tomatoes (I used my canned San Marzanos from last summer-still have a few quarts)
1/2 cup broth
1/2 cup red wine

Dredge the lamb shank in flour, and brown throughly. Put in your slow cooker/crock pot. Deglaze browing pan with wine, and pour over. Add everything else, except the tomatoes, to slow cooker. Cover, set to "low". Go to work, or about your business.

In the evening, add tomato puree. Cook a few more hours. Remove slow cooker insert, or transfer contents to bowl if your crock pot doesn't have a ceramic insert. Cool, cover, refrigerate.

Next day:

juice of lemon
freshly grated parm
fennel fronds
1 lb. penne, or other suitable sauce-grabbing pasta shape.

Before serving: Remove any solidified fat. Take out the lamb shank and shred the meat. Return meat to sauce ; discard bone. Stir juice of a whole lemon into sauce, and reheat, while preparing your penne. Make a pound of the penne, some is for later. When pasta and sauce are ready, drain pasta and stir sauce in thoroughly, coating all the pasta. Ladel into 2 shallow bowls, top with fennel fronds and freshly grated parm. Serve very hot. Reserve the rest of the pasta and sauce in fridge.

Third day:

more parm
1/2 cup fresh breadcrumbs
cream or broth
olive oil
leftover cooked greens- 1 cup (I used some yummy leftover black kale (a/k/a cavolo nero), or if you haven't any, some defrosted spinach will do, I'll bet)

Put pasta and sauce in a shallow oven proof baking dish. If it is horribly clumpy, nuke it very briefly to liquify the sauce a tad. Stir in cream or broth, which will also loosen the sauce a bit, along with 1/2 cup to 1/2 cup grated parm (which, of course, will not contribute to any loosening up-just saying) and the greens. Preheat oven very hot, at least 450F, hotter if your baking dish can take it. Grate plenty more parm all over the top of the gratin and sprinkle with breadcrumbs; spray or drizzle with olive oil. Bake for about 15 minutes, until top is all crusty. Watch closely, time is unpredictible. Consume hot. Do not drop any of this on your foot. Please.