Rainy days arrived along with autumn and we get out the clothing that goes with the rain and mentally prepare for this season where the sunshine is a very rare occurrence. Dreary - just really dreary is how it feels when I look outside. Then suddenly there are leaves fluttering down, gently waltzing their way down to the ground, becoming part of the new multicoloured carpet that covers the wet grass. These are the days where the cold and damp makes me wish summer was coming soon when in truth it has only just left. I have to confess that I am a warm climate person and love the hot summer weather but at the same time I love living in a place where we have the variety of the four seasons. So along with the cool rainy weather I find myself craving comfort food, the slow cooked kind of food that fills the house with warm inviting aromas that hint at flavours to be savoured, and wanting to curl up by the fire and hibernate for the next number of months.
While rainy days of autumn and winter may conspire to keep one indoors, I find these days open up my memories. Most of those memories that awaken are comfort memories. Comfort memories, for me, revolve around the preparation of food. Our winter food is most certainly more of the comfort food variety. The one who really taught me to cook is my maternal Grandmother. She lived not too far away and so as a little girl I spent a lot of time there. None of my Grandparents were financially well off but they had a wealth of time and love to share with us. Whether my memories are of the kitchen in Canada or the kitchen in Ireland there are warm comfort memories of preparing food with both Grandmothers. In fact, these “Grandmother” memories will have a lot to do with how my little Granddaughter and I spend time together in the future as she grows up.
My husband is a great baker and I love leaving that task to him while I enjoy preparing the savoury side of our meals. But I have to confess that those old cookie recipes from Grandma’s recipe box that I have are ones I would love to teach my little Granddaughter. Grandma had this one cookie recipe for Snickerdoodles. They are a simple cookie rolled in cinnamon and just the name sounds fun. This is a recipe that she used since I was a very little girl. When our Granddaughter is old enough to stand up, together we are going to have a lot of kitchen time on rainy days.
If it is a rainy day where you are, go ahead, get out the mixing bowls, make some cookies and let their fragrance waft through the house. May good memories be attached to this aroma.
Snickerdoodles
Mix together thoroughly:
1 cup soft shortening
1 ½ cups sugar
2 eggs
Sift together:
2 ¾ cups flour
2 tsp cream of tartar
1 tsp baking soda
½ tsp salt.
Mix dry ingredients with the shortening, sugar and egg mixture. Chill the dough.
Roll the dough into balls the size of a walnut. Roll in a mixture of 2 tbsp sugar and 2 tsp cinnamon.
Place about 2 inches apart on an ungreased baking sheet. If you have parchment paper put that down on the tray first. Bake until lightly browned but still soft.
These cookies puff up at first and then flatten out with crinkled tops.
Bake at 400F for 8 - 10 minutes
You should get about 5 dozen 2” cookies.
Thursday, November 17, 2011
Thursday, October 13, 2011
The Dance And The Tears Of Thanksgiving
Thanksgiving Monday morning this year was gray and overcast with a light rain falling as I headed out on a morning run. Running along with the steady rhythm, the pace becomes a beat to an inner music. This space of time brings a solitude that creates a place of meditation and reflection. There were many memories that rolled across the screen within my mind and vision this particular day. They became a collage of memories that brought a deep thanksgiving and gratefulness for those poignant moments that have danced into my heart, that have walked through my consciousness and left their prints and created spaces for seeds of life to be planted and grow within my soul. I read somewhere that gratitude and thanksgiving opens us open to the good memories we hold in us.
Thanksgiving has brought back one strong memory - that of a young woman dancing barefoot through the aisles of a church in Bulgaria. The floor was cold hard cement, the pews were benches with no back, high windows were broken and it could have used some paint on the walls. Yet the beauty of this place was in those who had gathered to worship, to come away from their harsh life in a nation that was awakening from an anesthetized soul under a regime of control. Watching our friend, this beautiful dancer, move through the room, very tenderly touching the faces of many women who lived a difficult life in this place of a struggling, newly emerging society, gave a very visual reality to how tenderly and gently the Spirit moves with us, between us and around us. This holy moment of beauty opened the space for tears of pain, tears from hearts that had been held tightly closed for so long. Tears flowed, were given permission to flow, from the barren places of the soul that had been denied their existence because simply to survive in the harshness of a difficult life feelings were repressed and tuck away. As she danced the words of an ancient, yet very present blessing flowed around us all.
May the Lord bless you and keep you
May the Lord make His face to shine upon you
And be gracious to you.
The Lord turn His face toward you and give you peace.
How is it that deep beauty and tears are such tender companions that we so often wish to keep apart? Tears are the salt that heals us as we let them flow and they are the prism through which our eyes and heart will see new dimensions to beauty and to sorrow. They are the very human way in which our joy, our pain, our brokenness, and our healing mingle tangibly, ever so gently, and persistently, inviting our emotions to rise to the surface and be set free.
F. Alexander Magoun writes: “Tears have a wisdom all their own. They come when a person has relaxed enough to let go and to work through his sorrow. They are the natural bleeding of an emotional wound, carrying the poison out of the system. Here lies the road to recovery.”
Thanksgiving this year was more profound for me because sorrow and gratefulness have never been entwined so tangibly. I think their dance together, this movement of beauty and grief, and the tears that flow for both, have brought a new aspect to ‘Thanksgiving’. My morning running has been a space where I have held both the deep gratitude for all the gifts I have, including all the nieces and nephews that I have had the honour of loving and spent time with and a new granddaughter I will be spending time with. The morning rain has mingled with my tears as I hold the deep sorrow of loosing a precious niece this summer. I hold the sorrow that her parents and brothers feel - a sorrow I cannot begin to imagine. Yet I also hold the deep gratitude that she was loved, and gave love in return, for all she gave to her friends and family and for the times I spent with her when she was little. How do we continue this dance of life, the dance of a deep inner life, when pain is so deep and tears are abundant? Perhaps the daily motion through that day, this day, is where movement becomes a very slow dance, where the soul moves the heart even when it cannot consciously find the energy to do so. This feels, for me, like the wind of Sophia, the wind of the Spirit, that moves me when I have no strength to hold on and I must lean into what I cannot see and trust the embrace. When I am urged to let go and lean into the place of not seeing and not knowing the road but continuing to believe that the road is still there and I am not alone, we are never alone.
As we gathered together after the funeral of this beloved young woman, a precious member of our family, we came together for a meal my Mother had organized. Another aspect of our life dance is the table where we gather to be nourished, to share and to sit close together creating a circle of love. Grief and celebration both call us to the table. Even as we are nourished by this necessary ritual of eating, we open space for conversation, honesty and yes, for tears to season and nourish the soul. Mom had prepared an old family favourite, a chicken with rice dish. It was real comfort food when we were children, and it is still a kind of comfort food now in adulthood.
How can I continue to dance if I do not hear the deep mournful tones of the requiems along with the comforting tones of the cello that the musician holds in a deep embrace, or that quickening liveliness of classical guitar melodies that sing so clearly of exuberant life? How can I keeping push through the struggle of those hills that slow down my run, if I do not exalt in the lightness that comes when the stretch before me is straight and easy? How will I hear the music life offers and its invitation to dance if I deny the tears that wash across my heart, bathing the path with salt that seasons and heals my soul? How will I sing in the morning if I do not also honour the time to wait and rest that the night offers? How will I hear the harmony of community if I keep myself from sitting down to dinner with others?
Thanksgiving Day, the holiday is past and we enjoyed a wonderful meal with friends. Thanksgiving as a way of living is growing. Within me is expanding a wider way to hold gratitude together with grief, loss, love and hope.
Aproz Con Pollo - Chicken with Rice
Serves 12 - freezes well.
3 broiler chickens cut up or enough chicken pieces for 12 people
2 tablespoons olive oil
1 tablespoon sea salt
1 teaspoon pepper
1 teaspoon paprika
5 cups of chicken broth (use 2 McCormick chicken stock or veggie stock cubes)
¼ teaspoon of saffron
1 cup chopped onion
2 bay leaves,
1 tablespoon chopped parsley
2 teaspoons sea salt
2 cups uncooked rice
1 small package of frozen peas
8 oz of chopped green olives
Heat oven to 350F
- place the chicken pieces, skin side up, in a large pan or 2-9x13 pans
- brush the chicken with the olive oil and season with salt, pepper and paprika
- bake the chicken for 30 minutes
- bring the chicken broth to a boil and then add the chopped onions and the 2 tsp of salt..
- remove the chicken from the pan and drain off the oil
-add the rice evenly to the 2 pans or 1 very large pan. Put bay leaves in each pan.
- add the chicken broth and seasonings
- cover and bake the chicken and rice for 30 minutes or until the broth is absorbed and the rice is tender.
- cook the peas.
- remove the chicken from the pan, add the peas and stir into the mixture.
- remove the bay leaves from the rice
- add the chopped olives and stir into the rice and pea mixture.
- place the chicken on top of the rice mixture
- garnish with the parsley and serve
Thanksgiving has brought back one strong memory - that of a young woman dancing barefoot through the aisles of a church in Bulgaria. The floor was cold hard cement, the pews were benches with no back, high windows were broken and it could have used some paint on the walls. Yet the beauty of this place was in those who had gathered to worship, to come away from their harsh life in a nation that was awakening from an anesthetized soul under a regime of control. Watching our friend, this beautiful dancer, move through the room, very tenderly touching the faces of many women who lived a difficult life in this place of a struggling, newly emerging society, gave a very visual reality to how tenderly and gently the Spirit moves with us, between us and around us. This holy moment of beauty opened the space for tears of pain, tears from hearts that had been held tightly closed for so long. Tears flowed, were given permission to flow, from the barren places of the soul that had been denied their existence because simply to survive in the harshness of a difficult life feelings were repressed and tuck away. As she danced the words of an ancient, yet very present blessing flowed around us all.
May the Lord bless you and keep you
May the Lord make His face to shine upon you
And be gracious to you.
The Lord turn His face toward you and give you peace.
How is it that deep beauty and tears are such tender companions that we so often wish to keep apart? Tears are the salt that heals us as we let them flow and they are the prism through which our eyes and heart will see new dimensions to beauty and to sorrow. They are the very human way in which our joy, our pain, our brokenness, and our healing mingle tangibly, ever so gently, and persistently, inviting our emotions to rise to the surface and be set free.
F. Alexander Magoun writes: “Tears have a wisdom all their own. They come when a person has relaxed enough to let go and to work through his sorrow. They are the natural bleeding of an emotional wound, carrying the poison out of the system. Here lies the road to recovery.”
Thanksgiving this year was more profound for me because sorrow and gratefulness have never been entwined so tangibly. I think their dance together, this movement of beauty and grief, and the tears that flow for both, have brought a new aspect to ‘Thanksgiving’. My morning running has been a space where I have held both the deep gratitude for all the gifts I have, including all the nieces and nephews that I have had the honour of loving and spent time with and a new granddaughter I will be spending time with. The morning rain has mingled with my tears as I hold the deep sorrow of loosing a precious niece this summer. I hold the sorrow that her parents and brothers feel - a sorrow I cannot begin to imagine. Yet I also hold the deep gratitude that she was loved, and gave love in return, for all she gave to her friends and family and for the times I spent with her when she was little. How do we continue this dance of life, the dance of a deep inner life, when pain is so deep and tears are abundant? Perhaps the daily motion through that day, this day, is where movement becomes a very slow dance, where the soul moves the heart even when it cannot consciously find the energy to do so. This feels, for me, like the wind of Sophia, the wind of the Spirit, that moves me when I have no strength to hold on and I must lean into what I cannot see and trust the embrace. When I am urged to let go and lean into the place of not seeing and not knowing the road but continuing to believe that the road is still there and I am not alone, we are never alone.
As we gathered together after the funeral of this beloved young woman, a precious member of our family, we came together for a meal my Mother had organized. Another aspect of our life dance is the table where we gather to be nourished, to share and to sit close together creating a circle of love. Grief and celebration both call us to the table. Even as we are nourished by this necessary ritual of eating, we open space for conversation, honesty and yes, for tears to season and nourish the soul. Mom had prepared an old family favourite, a chicken with rice dish. It was real comfort food when we were children, and it is still a kind of comfort food now in adulthood.
How can I continue to dance if I do not hear the deep mournful tones of the requiems along with the comforting tones of the cello that the musician holds in a deep embrace, or that quickening liveliness of classical guitar melodies that sing so clearly of exuberant life? How can I keeping push through the struggle of those hills that slow down my run, if I do not exalt in the lightness that comes when the stretch before me is straight and easy? How will I hear the music life offers and its invitation to dance if I deny the tears that wash across my heart, bathing the path with salt that seasons and heals my soul? How will I sing in the morning if I do not also honour the time to wait and rest that the night offers? How will I hear the harmony of community if I keep myself from sitting down to dinner with others?
Thanksgiving Day, the holiday is past and we enjoyed a wonderful meal with friends. Thanksgiving as a way of living is growing. Within me is expanding a wider way to hold gratitude together with grief, loss, love and hope.
Aproz Con Pollo - Chicken with Rice
Serves 12 - freezes well.
3 broiler chickens cut up or enough chicken pieces for 12 people
2 tablespoons olive oil
1 tablespoon sea salt
1 teaspoon pepper
1 teaspoon paprika
5 cups of chicken broth (use 2 McCormick chicken stock or veggie stock cubes)
¼ teaspoon of saffron
1 cup chopped onion
2 bay leaves,
1 tablespoon chopped parsley
2 teaspoons sea salt
2 cups uncooked rice
1 small package of frozen peas
8 oz of chopped green olives
Heat oven to 350F
- place the chicken pieces, skin side up, in a large pan or 2-9x13 pans
- brush the chicken with the olive oil and season with salt, pepper and paprika
- bake the chicken for 30 minutes
- bring the chicken broth to a boil and then add the chopped onions and the 2 tsp of salt..
- remove the chicken from the pan and drain off the oil
-add the rice evenly to the 2 pans or 1 very large pan. Put bay leaves in each pan.
- add the chicken broth and seasonings
- cover and bake the chicken and rice for 30 minutes or until the broth is absorbed and the rice is tender.
- cook the peas.
- remove the chicken from the pan, add the peas and stir into the mixture.
- remove the bay leaves from the rice
- add the chopped olives and stir into the rice and pea mixture.
- place the chicken on top of the rice mixture
- garnish with the parsley and serve
Wednesday, June 22, 2011
Nourishing Stillness
I often wonder if we discount the nourishing properties of stillness. There are those unexpected moments we are gifted with a feast for the eyes, the ears, the heart, and soul, and in order to enjoy it we only need to stop, to listen, wait and open the heart and receive it.
A friend and I had gone for a little overnight trip to The Painted Boat Resort up the Sunshine Coast. When I awoke early in the morning all was still and quiet, and before me was this vista from the large windows in the room. It was so still, and quiet, and as I wrapped my hands around a warm cup of fresh coffee, I found myself leaning into this exquisite moment of solitude and stillness and the presence of the Spirit. It was a banquet of peace, seasoned with some insight into current questions. My whispered prayer "aprire l'occhi da mia cuore" - open the eyes of my heart, was heard and answered. That is a tender sweet nourishment to the soul.
In the stillness I knew I had been fed with food I cannot buy, food I received with gratitude and joy.
Tuesday, June 14, 2011
Trying Out Black Quinoa
Quinoa is a grain that I have not had a lot of cooking or eating experience with. The few times I have had this dish it has been a bit mealy in texture and its pale colour have not drawn me to working with it. But, at a recent potluck there was a salad that really was tasty and completely different from what I expected from quinoa because it was black. It is very fine in texture, with much smaller grains than the usual white quinoa I have seen in the grocery store and in salads. Friends who are unable to eat wheat use this ‘berry’ in many of their culinary dishes.
Quinoa is not actually considered a grain or part of the grass family but rather it produces seeds which are called ‘berries’. It is more closely related to the chard and spinach family than the grass/grain family.
The Incas used quinoa extensively in their food preparation. This was all new information to me when I looked into it.
The black quinoa salad that I sampled recently was a lovely tender texture, that had a hint of curry flavour in it. I began to wonder if this could be an addition to my summer eating that includes a daily salad of raw vegetables. Could I blend the two into a salad? Well, experimenting is huge piece of learning to cook and create, and always an adventure! I experimented a lot when I was growing up and cooking for my family and I am sure they bravely ate things that were not very tasty! Now my husband bravely samples my experiments from the kitchen!
I have been trying to eat more raw vegetables and have really been enjoying them. Usually there are carrots, peppers, broccoli, cherry tomatoes, zucchini and cucumber in the fridge and they can easily be cut up into nice small pieces. Toss them in a little olive oil and fresh lemon juice, season with a little sea salt and then crumble in some feta cheese and you have a healthy, hearty, and tasty lunch. Sometimes it is nice to add a sliced apple or some blueberries to change it up. Some fresh spinach leaves are excellent too.
How about blending the black quinoa and raw vegetable salad but letting it take on a Moroccan flavour?
Adding cumin and curry seasoning in the cooking of the quinoa and then once the salad was ready adding a chiffonade of fresh mint from the garden would accomplish this.
The quinoa is easy to cook. If you use 1 cup of quinoa, use 2 cups of water. Directions on the package are easy to follow - just rinse quinoa, then sauté in a bit of olive oil, add a little salt, then add your water. Bring to boil then reduce heat and simmer until all liquid is absorbed - about 20 minutes. To put a bit more exotic seasoning in, sauté onion and garlic in olive oil then add the quinoa. Add about 1 teaspoon of cumin and 1 teaspoon of curry paste, season with salt and pepper, and sauté for a minute or so. Add the required amount of water or vegetable stock then bring to boil and simmer as directed.
When the quinoa was ready I let it cool slightly and then added my chopped vegetables which was about 2 cups worth. Adding the juice of one freshly squeezed lemon adds a great bit of flavour. Finely chop about 10 good sized mint leaves and add to the salad and then crumble in about ½ cup of feta cheese (more if you wish). Adding raisins and toasted pine nuts would be nice too.
We really enjoyed this new dish and I think there will be many more variations on it this summer.
Rhubarb Time In The Garden
The rhubarb is up in the garden and it brings back so many memories of childhood. In fact when produce begins to come to life in the garden I am always transported back to childhood in my Grandmother’s garden. I think my love of fresh vegetables was produced and nurtured somewhere in the space between her garden and her kitchen table where we were fed simple fresh food.
While it is still early in the season here, and a late season at that, there are some things in the garden that are ready to be consumed and rhubarb is one of them. I cut 8 stalks of rhubarb and cooked them up into a compote. There were a few strawberries in the fridge so they were added to the rhubarb - strawberries and rhubarb are good companions and love to be set together.
According to The Rhubarb Botanical Compendium: “Rhubarb is a vegetable with a unique taste that makes it a favourite in many pies and desserts. It originated in Asia over 2000 years ago. It was initially cultivated for its medicinal qualities, it was not until the 18th century that rhubarb was grown for culinary purposes in Britain and America. Rhubarb is often commonly mistaken for a fruit but rhubarb is actually a close relative of garden sorrel and is therefore a member of the vegetable family. Rhubarb is rich in Vitamin C and dietary fibre.
Rhubarb and Strawberry Compote:
8 stalks of rhubarb cut into 1 inch pieces
8 strawberries, topped and cut into quarters
¾ cup sugar (more if you find your compote too tart)
¼ cup water
¼ teaspoon cinnamon
2 star anise
Put all the ingredients into a heavy pot. On medium heat bring it to a boil and then turn heat down so it will simmer. Cook it until the rhubarb and strawberries and soft and tender (about 20 minutes - 30 minutes). Stir it regularly as it cooks. Remove from the heat and when it is cool enough take the 2 star anise out and discard them.
When it is just warm you can have it topped with some nice creamy vanilla yogurt!
Warm rhubarb with heavy cream is something my Grandmother gave us for dessert or a bedtime snack. Such good memories come along with this tart and tangy, oh so flavourful rhubarb.
Wednesday, May 11, 2011
Breakfast, Books and Vegetables
Rain, rain, rain…a rainy winter that has become a rainy spring and the sunshine has definitely been hiding for a long time around here. After an early morning appointment I returned home to get some breakfast to brighten up this rainy day feeling.
My family often used to laugh at my choice of breakfast because if there were any left-over vegetables in the fridge from the night before, that was what I would want for my morning meal! On Mother’s Day this year, in the restaurant where I work, we had a brunch and so there were 3 of us in the kitchen from the morning brunch start until the end of the day after dinner service was finished. A rather long day. One order that caught my attention was when I saw the Chef sautéing lovely thick meaty slices of portabello mushroom and then adding a handful of spinach to quickly wilt it and before placing it all in the centre of a hot fluffy omelette. That lovely green spinach image has been in my head for the last few days, begging to be placed into something that will come to my plate to be savoured.
On this rainy morning, well before I start my dinner shift at the restaurant, I wanted to enjoy a satisfying breakfast, along with a mug of good strong coffee and have my current reading “Blood, Bones and Butter” by Gabrielle Hamilton close by. (Very funny read indeed).
Thick slices of crimini mushrooms sauted in a little olive oil and a touch of butter along with some finely chopped shallots and a sprinkle of Pacific Sea Salt (*) were the start. With the mushrooms nicely browned I threw in a large handful of spinach and let it wilt slightly. On top of that is a lovely poached egg. That of course makes it legitimately a breakfast dish! Along with a steaming cup of coffee I am very content with my morning feast and my good book on this rainy day. Ah breakfast can be such a great meal when you have the time to actually sit and enjoy it.
*Organic Fine Pacific Sea Salt from New Zealand is a beautiful salt to use with a lovely soft feel to it.
Blood, Bones and Butter , The Inadvertent Education of a Reluctant Chef by Gabrielle Hamilton
My family often used to laugh at my choice of breakfast because if there were any left-over vegetables in the fridge from the night before, that was what I would want for my morning meal! On Mother’s Day this year, in the restaurant where I work, we had a brunch and so there were 3 of us in the kitchen from the morning brunch start until the end of the day after dinner service was finished. A rather long day. One order that caught my attention was when I saw the Chef sautéing lovely thick meaty slices of portabello mushroom and then adding a handful of spinach to quickly wilt it and before placing it all in the centre of a hot fluffy omelette. That lovely green spinach image has been in my head for the last few days, begging to be placed into something that will come to my plate to be savoured.
On this rainy morning, well before I start my dinner shift at the restaurant, I wanted to enjoy a satisfying breakfast, along with a mug of good strong coffee and have my current reading “Blood, Bones and Butter” by Gabrielle Hamilton close by. (Very funny read indeed).
Thick slices of crimini mushrooms sauted in a little olive oil and a touch of butter along with some finely chopped shallots and a sprinkle of Pacific Sea Salt (*) were the start. With the mushrooms nicely browned I threw in a large handful of spinach and let it wilt slightly. On top of that is a lovely poached egg. That of course makes it legitimately a breakfast dish! Along with a steaming cup of coffee I am very content with my morning feast and my good book on this rainy day. Ah breakfast can be such a great meal when you have the time to actually sit and enjoy it.
*Organic Fine Pacific Sea Salt from New Zealand is a beautiful salt to use with a lovely soft feel to it.
Blood, Bones and Butter , The Inadvertent Education of a Reluctant Chef by Gabrielle Hamilton
Wednesday, March 23, 2011
Simple Celebration Meal
There were just 4 ingredients - one rack of lamb, one zucchini, 6 small potatoes, one bottle of 2001 Italian red wine. Well actually there are a few more ingredients to this meal - the fact that we celebrate our wedding anniversary every 6 months! Why not!? Do we need an ‘excuse’ for a celebration meal? One would hope not!!
Much has been written on the connection between food and celebration - regardless of religious or cultural background. While I continue to research this area, I find myself yearning to pay more attention to the times of celebration we make in our daily life.
Rack of lamb is always a treat and one cut of meat we don’t buy very often. It is really easy to prepare though. Set your oven at 425F. Season the lamb with salt and pepper. Use a fry pan that can go into the oven. Heat the pan so it is nice and hot, add a touch of oil and then put your lamb in, browning it on all sides. Set it aside on a cookie rack and let it rest for about 10 minutes. Now brush it with Dijon mustard. If you have some fresh herbs chop them finely and set them aside. Put the lamb into the oven for about 15 minutes. Take it out and press the herbs into it. Continue to cook for about another 10 minutes (check to see how pink it is and if it is too pink for your taste, cook for a bit longer so it is how you want it). Cut the ribs apart for serving.
For my roast potatoes I peel and quarter them. Steam them for about 5 minutes, or microwave them for about 6 minutes. Roll them in olive oil and a touch of butter. Season with salt and pepper, a touch of nutmeg and oregano. You can also add fresh thyme or rosemary if you like. Roast them at 425 for about 40 minutes till they are golden brown.
My maternal grandmother often cooked us zucchini that came fresh from her garden and it is a kind of comfort food for me. I love it sliced, sauted in a touch of butter and seasoned with salt, pepper and oregano.
Plate with the roasted potatoes in the middle of the plate, place zucchini medallions round the edge of the plate and then stack the lamb chops round your potatoes.
Then…..ahhhh enjoy! Light the candles, pour the wine and enjoy the simple flavours of your feast with whoever you choose to invite to the table.
Saturday, February 19, 2011
Italian Pancakes/Crespelle Stuffed with Meat Sauce
Somewhere in a box in the crawl space upstairs are the journals that hold my inner thoughts of a year living in Italy, including recipes that I wrote down when I lived there 10 years ago. In one of those journals is the wonderful recipe for making crespelle (Italian crepes) stuffed with meat and mozzarella and tomato sauce, then topped with béchamel sauce. My friend Annamaria would make these for the midday Sunday meal quite often. In the heat of a July or August Saturday, or the cold dreary rainy days of December, she worked to hard to prepare this delicious meal to feed her family and the many friends that were welcomed to their dinner table. Just as she seasoned the foods she prepared, she seasoned my soul as I sat in her kitchen in my season in
I had a longing for this dish recently and in the last few days of holidays before heading back to work (the restaurant when I work was closed for the month of January) I was keen to have some friends over and make this tasty dish. While Annamaria’s recipe is going to take some searching to find, I have used the Crespelle recipe from Marcella Hazan’s, The Classic Italian Cookbook, that has been on my cookbook shelf for almost 40 years. The tomato sauce and meat sauce are what I have come up with to be somewhat close to my friend’s recipe.
http://www.nytimes.com/2008/09/10/dining/10hazan.html
Crespelle:
1 cup milk 2 eggs
¾ cup all purpose flour - a generous ¾ cup
¼ teaspoon salt
For cooking the crespelle - 1 - 2 tablespoons butter
- put the milk in a bowl and gradually add the flour, using a whisk or folk and blend it evenly
- add the eggs and salt, beating them so they are thoroughly incorporated into the mixture.
- put ½ teaspoon of butter in a heavy 8 inch skillet or a crepe pan and melt the butter, over medium heat and then rotate the pan so the bottom is evenly coated.
- pour about 2 tablespoons of batter into the pan and again rotate the pan to spread the batter thinly over the bottom of the pan.
- cook until the pancake has set and turned golden brown on one side. Lift it gently with a spatula and flip it over and brown lightly on the other side.
- transfer it to a platter and you can stack the rest of the pancakes/crepes on top of each other.
- put a little more butter in the pan and start the process again until you have used all the batter.
- this will make about 6 - 8 crepes/pancakes.
Tomato Sauce:
2 tablespoons finely chopped onion (½ medium onion)
2 cloves crushed garlic
1 tablespoon olive oil
1 medium carrot, finely chopped
Sea salt to taste
Ground pepper to taste
1 tablespoon dry oregano
½ cup red wine
1 large tin of diced Roma tomatoes (with the juice)
1 tablespoon of balsamic vinegar
- heat a heavy pan, add oil, add the onion and saute for 5 minutes over medium heat
- add the garlic, carrots and season with salt and pepper. Cook for 6 minutes. Try not to brown the vegetables
- add the oregano and stir in
- add the tinned tomatoes and the balsamic vinegar and bring it to a boil
- add the red wine
- once the sauce is simmering, reduce it to a lower heat and let it cook for about 20 - 30 minutes until the liquid is reduced and it is a thick sauce.
Meat Mixture:
500 grams of lean ground beef
½ onion finely chopped
Sea salt and fresh ground pepper to taste
1 tablespoon balsamic vinegar
1 tablespoon dry oregano
¼ teaspoon of smoked paprika
1 cup of the tomato sauce
½ cup red wine - optional.
- put a touch of olive oil in your hot fry pan and add the ground beef crumbling it as you put it in the pan
- be sure to use a fork of spatula to break the meat apart so as it cooks it is very crumbly and not in any chunks
-as it begins to cook add the chopped onion and season with your sea salt and pepper (maybe ½ teaspoon of sea salt and about the same of pepper)
- once the meat and onions are cooked add the balsamic, the smoked paprika and the oregano.
- If you like you can add ½ cup of red wine
- add the cup of tomato sauce and bring the whole mixture to a bubbling point.
- reduce the heat and let it gently simmer for about 20 minutes until it is quite a nice thick sauce and not too runny.
Bechamel Sauce:
2 cups of milk
4 tablespoons butter
3 tablespoons all purpose flour
¼ teaspoon salt
Dash of nutmeg
1 bay leaf
- in a small sauce pan heat the milk almost to boiling then remove from the heat
- in another medium size sauce pan melt the butter and then slowly add the flour, constantly stirring it so it is smooth. A wood spoon works well for this.
- Cook over medium heat and once the roux (butter/flour mixture) starts to bubble let it cook for about 2 minutes, stirring it constantly but do not let it brown.
- turn the heat off under the roux and slowly add 2 tablespoons of hot milk and mix it until it is smooth and then slowly add the hot milk, a little a time, stirring all the time.
- once all the milk is in and blended smoothly, add the salt and nutmeg and the bay leaf and return the mixture to a low - medium low heat.
- cook the sauce until it is as thick as heavy cream.
- make this just before you are ready to put it onto the stuffed crespelle.
- remove the bay leaf when your sauce is done.
1 Cup of Grated Mozzarella
To Assemble:
Heat your oven to 400F
Take a 9x13 baking dish and brush lightly with butter or oil. Then spread about ½ cup of the tomato sauce so you have a light coating on the bottom of the pan.
Add ½ cup of grated cheese to the meat sauce and mix in.
Divide your meat mixture into the equal amounts for the number of crepes you have.
Put a portion of the meat mixture into the middle of the pancake and fold up one end, fold in the two sides and then roll it firmly over. Place the stuffed crespelle fold side down in the pan. Continue until all crespelle are stuffed and placed in your baking pan.
Spread the rest of the tomato sauce over the top of the crespelle and then top with the béchamel sauce.
Cover the pan with aluminum foil and bake it for 30 minutes. Take the foil off and add the rest of the grated mozzarella and continue to bake it for another 15 - 20 minutes until the cheese is just getting golden in colour.
Serve with crisp greens and your favorite dressing.
Finish dinner with Tiramisu!
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