I know, I know, all the controversy over foie gras. It’s so over, right? I’m staying out of politics with this one because I’ve heard pretty good arguments on both sides. (Honestly though, it’s not like I’m buying the stuff all the time.)

But I like the stuff. Actually, I think I may love the stuff (in small doses from time to time, of course). You know what else? I can get it more local than my mangosteens. Hudson Valley in fact, which is pretty much New York City’s backyard. A little more food for thought: With Chicago lifting the ban in May, are we a little closer to acceptance? (Obviously, not in California where the ban is in effect until 2012.)

Back in December D received a beautiful gift of foie gras and miraculously, some still exists tucked in the freezer, sliced and ready to go, wrapped in wax paper and excessive amounts of plastic wrap to fend off freezer burn. Still there because, simply, I don’t think about foie gras every day and because D practices what I like to call “boy searches,” whenever he looks for something. Ladies, you know what I’m talking about: Man opens drawer or cabinet and without moving declares an item not present because it is not face level, front row, with a neon sign screaming I’m what you’re looking for! My reply is something along the lines of, Yes it is. Bottom shelf, left side, behind the x. This doesn’t just happen in the kitchen.

A few months back we broke into the stash and took a handful of slices to a local wine bar and let the chef do what he may. Three amazing dishes were presented to us, wines to match, shared equally between us, my friend DR, the owner and chef.

But now while D is away, as cruel as it may be, the mice do play!

Oh… just a little crumb, he’ll never even notice– until of course he returns and reads this post. By which point it will be happily digested.

Strangely enough, I wasn’t thinking about foie at all when I suddenly had an overwhelming urge to eat some. I was writing away on a lonely Friday night thinking about peaches (I don’t always think about food, I was writing about peaches, okay). For some strange reason, foie gras popped in, blocking my peach receptors. The urge was so strong that I vowed my brain I would make foie gras the following day for a little snack if it would so kindly return to peaches.

I’ve been so good lately it’s a reward really. As I said, D is away and I have three times the amount of vegetables to cope with than normal. Not only is there a full Community Supported Agriculture share booming with summer harvest (seriously, 10 zucchini!?), there is also the garden shoving zucchini and basil down my throat. Perhaps like a future foie you could say.

While I methodically remove one item from the summer repertoire each night (a quart of pesto, frozen zucchini), I turned vegetarian eating through the non-preservable, refusing to purchase more food for the overflowing fridge.

Possibly this is where the overwhelming urge for foie gras came from: My own rejection of meat protein this past week lured me into the most forbidden meat of all: foie gras. I will continue to swear by it though: It was the peach’s fault! And how delicious they are together.

A closer look at the picture reveals I picked the worst of the foie (if there is such a thing)– The little scrappy lobe bits that weren’t real slices. And while I’m admitting things, I will also state that when the foie gras was finished from my plate, I licked the remaining fat clean off.

Seared Foie Gras and Peaches
Serving Size= 1
1 one-inch thick slice of foie gras
salt/ pepper
1/2 peach, sliced into 4 wedges
1/4 teaspoon fresh ground coriander
1/4 teaspoon cinnamon
1/4 teaspoon sugar
pine nuts
2 or 3 leaves of fresh chopped mint
1 tablespoon heavy cream (optional)

Method:  Warm a small skillet to medium-high heat. Sprinkle foie gras with salt and pepper on both sides. Mix the coriander, cinnamon and sugar and sprinkle over peach wedges, both sides. Sear peaches on both sides, until blackened, set aside. Sear foie gras on both sides, until blackened. Do not overcook the foie gras. The longer it cooks the less foie you get as it melts to fat! Place foie gras on a a plate, layer on peaches, sprinkle with a few pine nuts, mint and drizzle with cream. Serve with a mild cracker or melba toast.
NOTE: Heavy cream is optional in this dish. Already so creamy on it’s own, it doesn’t need it, but, well, peaches n’ cream.

My fondest memories of holidays were spent at my grandmother’s house, packed with relatives and friends, and tables piled high with Latvian sauerkraut, kielbasa, honey ham, savory meat-filled pancakes and Jell-o. Thinking back, these were probably the best holidays because they meant toys and candy were soon to come my way. I’ll believe in anything imaginary as long as I get my basket of jelly beans!

Easter always involved a production, which is why I loved it so much. My family arrived at my grandmother’s house early in the morning. My grandmother, cooking since 6 AM, would be studding her massive loaves of saffron raisin bread before they went in the oven. A few dozen eggs boiled away in onion peels on the stove and set up on the kitchen table were the “children’s eggs,” store-bought kits for us to dye eggs. (Thinking back, I now realize these eggs were the “throw aways” for us kids to hide, break and maybe find, while my grandmother’s natural eggs were the table’s centerpiece and center of conversation.)

With eggs dyed and breakfast consumed, the adults hid eggs. We used to stay in-house, but the year after the still discussed “disappearing egg” was found rotting behind a book a few months after Easter, all egg activities were moved outside. My brothers and I followed the adults, baskets in hand, destroying the house then digging up the garden, searching for eggs. We were rewarded with an early dinner and a basket of sugar.

But always, through the years, my grandmother’s eggs stuck with me. She dyed eggs a vibrant marbled amber with a handful of onion peels and some vinegar. I worked with this, and a few other colors for an upcoming article. Above are my results.

The onion peel eggs are at top, the lighter marbled egg was wrapped in peels, secured with rubber bands and boiled for 15 minutes. The darker one was boiled loose in the peels for about 25 minutes. Top right, the striped one was wrapped in rubber bands and dyed in beet juice (who knew that beet juice, which turns everything magenta would turn eggs a dull grey-green). The speckled egg next to that was boiled for 15 min in spinach then left overnight to soak. Blueberries are the indigo eggs (1 cup frozen blueberries, 2 cups water, 1 tsp vinegar, boiled 15 min). The one in the middle had star-shaped stickers adhered before dying (just make sure the egg is totally dry before removing stickers or they will run– I lost a dinosaur with running dye!). At left, my favorite surprise, are turmeric dyed eggs. These were left about 15 minutes in 3 cups water, 1 teaspoon vinegar and 1 tablespoon turmeric. They are true golden eggs. I dripped blue crayon on the one at left to produce the polka dots.

I thought of mixing blueberries with turmeric to get a vibrant green. I bet it would be fantastic. And I’ve heard red cabbage, boiled 15 minutes with 1 teaspoon vinegar and left overnight produces a fabulous teal. I heard soaking in pomegranate juice produces red, but mine turned out a putrid brown.

Natural egg dyes turn Easter into a fun guessing game and a fabulous science experiment. They are also safer than store-bought dye kits which, though they are “food safe,” processed food dyes are mostly coal tar-based (and many of them are banned in the EU).

So have fun, use your imagination with regular household items, have a wonderful holiday, and enjoy your egg salad! I’ll link to my story once it is out.

Bravo to the Charlotte Observer for their current multi-level six-part series on the horrors of industrial poultry plants and the many injustices workers there face.

I mentioned this back in December after seeing the film, Mississippi Chicken, less about Mississippi chicken facilities and more about the people that bring us our food. While the horrors of industrial beef and pork plants are coming more into light, the chicken industry often gets overlooked. I think films and exposes like these are all too important to highlight a subject that few people want to look into. As is often said, ignorance is bliss.

We are more often concerned about the welfare of the animals in these industrial food facilities (which truly are horrendous), but there are people that work in these places that face very real injustices that are overlooked. It is all too easy to say these folks can find other jobs, but blaming the victim never gets us anywhere. The people are not the problem, it is the system that employs them that is.

One line that is particularly hilarious to me and just rings of doubling safety books in the industry and corruption:

They [Critics] point to one government measure showing that employees in toy stores are more likely than poultry workers to develop musculoskeletal disorders.

The most common musculoskeletal disorder, according to the piece, is carpal tunnel. I worked for a toy store for over 5 years, while in high school and on college breaks. I never felt my life, hands or safety at all endangered (oh wait, I did consume a lot of candy), but to compare these two occupations is absurd!

Need some last minute inspiration planning your Super Bowl Party?

Follow this link to see my latest Queens Chronicle article for some easy and delicious plays on party favorites. Recipes include spicy sausage chili, crab deviled eggs, your standard guacamole and a brownie recipe that will have you doing a Super Bowl Shuffle.

Super Bowl Food Plays, Queens Chronicle, 1/31/08.

I know, I know, more soup?! This one is almost entirely leftovers and maybe something you can make with those holiday leftovers of your own.

Soup is a great excuse to get rid of leftovers, as a way to move through vegetables before they go bad, as a quick fix when you don’t want to cook, when sick, for an easy work lunch, and more. It’s just so easy to make a big batch of soup and freeze it away for a cold day.

Our freezer is stockpiled with all sorts of soups: carrot ginger, coconut pumpkin, cauliflower and so many subtle variations of these I often don’t see a reason to post them (like butternut sage, broccoli or carrot parsnip). I recently started labeling the containers with masking tape, marking soup type and date made. It sounds totally neurotic, but when you have two single serving sizes and carrot ginger looks a lot like carrot parsnip, it makes a difference.

The best part of making soup is that it is so cheap to make a filling and delicious meal. I have many friends who purchase soups at stores or restaurants for lunch or dinner and I just have to laugh. I have one friend who calls local restaurants asking each one what kinds of soups they have until he finds one he likes. In the 30-45 minutes it took him to make those calls he could have made his own soup! I know, not everyone thinks he has the time to make soup (really, just 30 minutes), but when you’re dropping $6 or more for a small bowl of soup and know it really only costs about $10 for a 16-serving pot you would laugh too.

I should go into the soup business.

I made the above soup with Thanksgiving leftovers and froze it immediately because I could not eat another bite of turkey. I de-thawed it today for a quick lunch and thought it can just as easily be made with Christmas leftovers. (Especially easy if you served a turkey or chicken and still have the carcass to make a rich stock.) The kale was leftover from another dish, but can just as easily be leftover green beans, broccoli, spinach or Brussels sprouts. The broth looks so creamy because it is enhanced with leftover mashed potatoes. The overall result is a delicious soup that brings holiday cheer back to a bowl.

Tuscan Kale & Bean Soup
Serving Size= 8 servings. Prep/cook time= 20 minutes. Inactive time= 15 minutes.
3 tablespoons olive oil or butter
1 leek or yellow onion
4-6 cloves garlic
2 tablespoons parsley (or combination of aromatics like sage, rosemary, basil, oregano)
1 bay leaf
1 tablespoon salt
1 bunch, 2-3 cups packed, Tuscan kale (also called dinosaur kale or any leftover green vegetables)
4 roma tomatoes (optional) (can substitute 1 4 ounce can tomato paste)
1 can kidney beans, washed and drained
1 can butter beans, washed and drained
5 cups chicken or turkey broth and meat (if any is leftover), can substitute low-sodium boxed stock
leftover mashed potatoes (optional) can substitute heavy cream if desired

1) Warm olive oil in a stock pot on the stove top over medium-high heat. Slice onion thinly and add to pot. Saute 3-4 minutes. While warming, smash and chop garlic. Add to pot and saute 2 minutes more. Add dried parsley, bay leaf and salt.
2) Role 3-4 kale leaves at a time into cylinders and slice into 1/4 inch strips. Continue until all kale, including stems, are cut. Add to pot, saute until darkened and slightly wilted, 5 minutes.
3) Roughly chop tomatoes and add to pot along with washed and drained beans. Stir to incorporate.
4) Add broth and mashed potatoes. Stir to break potatoes into broth. Add water if too thick. Cover and bring contents to a boil. Reduce heat and simmer 10 minutes. Taste and season with salt/ pepper if needed. Serve with good crusty bread.

A few days ago I saw the film Mississippi Chicken. It is an interesting look into the lives of immigrant workers in chicken factories. It explores how mistreatment in their lives seeps into other domains of life, from housing to simply driving down the street. I renamed the film Pecking Order. A much more fitting title I think, as the film is less about the chicken industry in Mississippi specifically, and more about the lives it touches.

I would have loved a camera inside the factory, or more on the conditions inside, but this is nearly impossible. As an aside, doesn’t it frighten you when someone refuses to show you how your food is produced? Are conditions so horrible you would gag the next time you put a conventional chicken in your mouth? (Yes.)

This film sets aside our usual understanding of industrial farming and the mistreatment of animals (cut off beaks, pens too small to move in, body sores, and breasts so large the animals cannot stand) and focuses more on the people that bring us our food.

The film takes us into the lives of workers who risked their life to come to this country, and continue to risk it daily to bring us our food. It is by no means a feel-good-save-the-world film, but can be seen as a step towards uncovering a part of industrial farming so rarely looked into (chicken factories) and highlights a controversial subject without becoming preachy (immigrant labor).

The film is in a similar vein of Fast Food Nation and King Corn.

In a slightly related topic, D and I have been discussing mistreatment of immigrant workers lately. Here is a recent story from Eric Schlosser (author of Fast Food Nation) about immigrant pay wages on tomato farms for companies like McDonald’s, Burger King and others in the fast food world. More interesting though, is the treatment of laborers on organic farms. People so readily eat and praise organic food these days because it is healthier for the environment and our bodies. But all this do-good attitude is still often at the expense of others’. Treatment of workers on organic farms (especially industrial organic) are often just as bad as they are on conventional farms. Just something to think about.

On a random, interesting note, I was at a food conference the other week and Aaron Woolf, director and producer of King Corn was a speaker. He mentioned being so appalled by his findings during the film, he is setting aside film making for a bit to open a grocery store in Brooklyn, stocked with food found within a 100-mile radius of New York City.

When I was younger, I eagerly hacked up pumpkins for Halloween. If I took knife to flesh too early and the dear thing rotted, I would whittle away again. Those pumpkins would remain on our front porch until they deflated into sad puddles of mush (or the raccoons ate them).

Lately, I cannot bring myself to carve pumpkins. Shortly after I began this blog I found the most perfect of pumpkins. Enormous and ideally symmetrical, it sat on our dining room table for months. I could not bare to throw it out. Finally, no joke, in June, I decided it was no longer seasonal to host the pumpkin.

This year, I am proud to say I sliced and diced that little orange globe sooner than I thought I would be able to.

I eyed my little pumpkin, barely larger than a softball for a few weeks contemplating its end. I knew this little guy would only last a few servings. Whatever I made, it had to be good. Because the chill has finally hit the air, I had a craving for soup.

It is no secret I love soup. I like to make it in big batches and store it in single serving containers for a cold day. Soup, yes, that was easy, what flavors will marry pumpkin in a unique and delicious taste? Coconut!

I know, it’s sort of a bizarre jump to make. I was thinking roasted pumpkin and toasted rhymes and well, what is best toasted? Coconut. Naturally. It is also easier to make this jump knowing a can of coconut milk has been sitting idle in the cabinets.

The coconut in this soup is subtle, yet adds that certain unknown that baffles eaters. Just what is it? And why is there cilantro in this soup?! It would make the perfect addition to the Thanksgiving party and best of all it is super easy to make– and fast.

Coconut Pumpkin Soup
Serving size= 6. Active time= 10 minutes. Cook time= 15 minutes.
1 medium cooking pumpkin (other winter squash would work too: acorn, butternut)
1/2 yellow onion
2 cloves garlic
2 tablespoons butter or olive oil
1/2 teaspoon curry powder (optional)
4 cups chicken or vegetable broth
1-15oz can coconut milk
salt/ pepper to taste
cilantro for garnish

1) Ready a food processor with a grater attachment. Slice the pumpkin into 1/4s, remove ends. Remove pulp, set aside to toast for a garnish. Use a vegetable peeler to remove skin and grate in food processor. Grate onion and garlic.
2) Heat butter or olive oil in a sauce pot over medium high heat. Once warm, add pumpkin, onion and garlic. Saute 5-7 minutes, until onions sweat and pumpkin darkens in color, stir occasionally. Add curry powder (if using) and salt.*
3) Add chicken or vegetable broth and coconut milk. Bring to a boil, then reduce heat and simmer about 5 minutes. Using a blender, immersion or standing, puree the soup until a smooth, even texture is reached.
4) Salt and pepper to taste. Add chopped cilantro and toasted pumpkin seeds as garnish.
*Note: While onions, garlic and pumpkin are warming, rinse and dry pumpkin seeds. Sprinkle w/ salt and shredded coconut (optional). Toast on medium-high two times in a toaster oven, until slightly browned.

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My good friend N from Chicago emailed me this morning for help. Her new bf’s favorite food is paella and she wanted a simplified version of the last paella recipe made here at Just Braise to impress him.

First, let us congratulate N for picking such a winner! I can’t think of anyone I know who would say their favorite food is paella if asked. Maybe my Spanish friend, J, but I think she’s more inclined to Iberian ham. So brava!

N’s concern was the lengthy steps (who has fish stock on hand?!) and that she had never cooked seafood beyond a simple pan-seared fillet.

I applaud her for taking the next step in trying not only new seafood, but a possibly daunting recipe. I also assured her seafood is incredibly simple to make. Just find a good quality source and you’re set. Before I know it she’ll be throwing fancy-sounding (but simple) dishes like linguine in clam sauce together– That’s right, I think linguine sounds fancy. It’s Italian and once you use foreign words in cooking you’re fancy. (So I guess paella is pretty fancy too.)

For anyone wary of paella, whether you are trying to impress a new beau or stock pile your fridge for the week, I implore you to give this recipe a try. I have even included a simplified version with alternatives below the real recipe for the novice. You don’t even need an authentic paella pan– Any large pan (15 inches or more) with high sides (2 inches or more) will work.

The skeleton of this recipe is taken from the same cookbook as the previous paella recipe, The Cuisines of Spain. Paella is definitely not a dish you make once and master so be aware it might not be perfect your first time through. Keep trying. Don’t be scared away by the recipe list either. Most of it is pretty basic. Or, try my simplified version below.

Arroz Con Cebolla Confitada (Rice with Caramelized Onion)
Serving size 6. Active time= about 1 hour. Inactive time=12 minutes.
1/2 pound littleneck clams
1 tablespoon coarse salt
1/2 cup olive oil
1 boneless skinless chicken, cut into 2 inch pieces
2 yellow onions, thinly sliced (or grated)
1 red pepper, thinly sliced
2 cloves garlic, minced
1/3 cup sweet vermouth
1/2 teaspoon salt
1/2 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper
1/2 teaspoon sugar
4 cups fish stock (see previous paella for recipe)
2 tomatoes, halved and grated on large holes, skins discarded
1 teaspoon sweet paprika
Pinch of saffron threads
1 pound calamari rings
2 cups Spanish (short grained) rice
1 pound shrimp, in shells
1/2 bag frozen peas

1) Scrub clams and place them in a bowl of water with the coarse salt. Let them sit for about 30 min or more while you prepare the other ingredients (you do not need these until the end). This gets the clams to release the sand trapped in their shells.
2) In a large (15 inch +) skillet or paella pan, warm the olive oil on medium heat. Add the chicken and cook until browned on all sides, about 8 minutes. Remove and set aside.
3) Add onions, red pepper, garlic, vermouth, salt, pepper and sugar to pan. Cook slowly, stirring occasionally until the liquid evaporates and the onions caramelize, 15-20 minutes.
4) Preheat oven to 500F. In a sauce pot, bring stock to a boil.
5) Turn heat on onions to high and cook 5 minutes more. Add the grated tomatoes, paprika and saffron. Mix to incorporate. Add the squid and mix again.
6) Turn heat to high. Return chicken to pan, add rice and stir to incorporate. Add the boiling stock and let sit for 5 minutes without touching.
7) Remove clams from salted water and place around the top of the dish. Do not bury them in the liquid. Add the shrimp to the top of the dish as well.
8) Bake for 12-15 minutes, uncovered. Clams should open and shrimp should turn pink. Remove from oven once done and set on stove, covered with tin foil for 5 minutes. Tap any clams that have not opened with a fork. If they still do not pop open discard them.
9) Add frozen peas and stir to incorporate. (Heat from the dish will thaw the peas.) Serve with lemon wedges and chopped parsley as a garnish.

A beginner’s paella. This is essentially what I provided to N earlier today. Make it even shorter by removing one of the fish and upping a quantity of another.

Basic Paella
Serving size 6. Active time= about 1 hour. Inactive time=12 minutes.
1/2 pound littleneck clams
1 tablespoon coarse salt
1/4 cup olive oil
1 boneless skinless chicken, cut into 2 inch pieces
1 red pepper, thinly sliced
1 medium onion, thinly sliced
2 cloves garlic, crushed
1/2 teaspoon salt
4 cups boxed fish stock. Alt.: use half clam juice half boxed chicken stock or all chicken stock
1 teaspoon sweet paprika
Pinch of saffron threads
1 pound calamari rings
2 cups Spanish (short grained) rice
1 pound shrimp, in shells
1/2 bag frozen peas (optional)
lemons and parsley for garnish

1) Scrub clams and place them in a bowl of water with the coarse salt. Let sit for about 30 min or more while you prepare the other ingredients (you do not need these until the end). This gets the clams to release the sand trapped in their shells.
2) In a large (15 inch +) skillet with 2 inch sides (or taller) or paella pan, warm the olive oil on medium heat. Add the chicken and cook until browned on all sides, about 8 minutes. Remove and set aside.
3) Add onions, red pepper and garlic to pan. Allow onions to sweat, stir occasionally 8-10 minutes. Preheat oven to 500F. In a separate sauce pot, bring stock to a boil.
4) Add paprika, saffron and rice to onions and pepper. Mix to incorporate. Add the squid and mix again.
5) Turn heat to high and return chicken to pan. Add the boiling stock and let sit for 5 minutes without touching.
6) Remove clams from the salted water and place around the top of the dish. Do not bury them in the liquid. Add the shrimp to the top of the dish as well.
7) Bake for 12-15 minutes, uncovered. Clams should open, shrimp should turn pink and liquid should be evaporated. Remove from oven once done and set on stove, covered with tin foil for 5 minutes. Tap any clams that have not opened with a fork. If they still do not pop open, discard them.
8) Add frozen peas and stir to incorporate. (Heat from the dish will thaw the peas.) Serve with lemon wedges and chopped parsley as a garnish.

D and I recently had some friends over for an intimate feast. We prepared many items we had never attempted before, something I often shy away from when we have guests– there is nothing worse than messing up something you have never attempted before. But cooking, like any passion, is all about trial and error and you’ll never get better without an attempt. All in all, the 5 hours spread ended deliciously well, mishaps included.

All vegetables, and most fruits, were brought to us by our local Community Supported Agriculture program. Each week I am thankful that we have invested in our farm and I proudly brag about “my farmers” who brought me my organic vegetables– just picked yesterday!

This weekend we celebrated the spring bounty.

The evening began calmly as pictured above. I started prepping items 1 week in advance: spanakopita (spinach from “my farm” with local sheep feta), rhubarb syrup (rhubarb from last week’s CSA drop boiled down with water and sugar) and a rhubarb tart (crust prepared and frozen and rhubarb chopped and frozen). The rest was finalized and started the night before arrival…

We welcomed guests C and M with choice of champagne or a strawberry rhubarb “martini.” I like to call drinks served in martini glasses and made with vodka “martinis,” as do most bars and restaurants. I suppose because it makes the drink sound more sophisticated. D is angered by this and claims it is a merely a mixed cocktail if it has no vermouth. Our Strawberry Rhubarb “Martinis” contained rhubarb syrup, vodka, mashed fresh strawberries and were topped with champagne. We also eventually threw some mint in there.

Next was the spanakopita. I received pounds of spinach, amongst other greens last week. S

o much I feared we could not eat it, but didn’t want it going to waste. I could not bare to simply freeze the spinach so bought some filo and feta, steamed and chopped the spinach, added nutmeg, crumbled feta, wrapped in filo and froze. Laborious to wrap individually, yes (a spanakopita pie would have been easier), but well worth it.

An assemble-one’s-own course followed next. I like the idea of the guest doing some work, it allows them to understand flavor combinations you use a little more and how they work together. If they don’t cook, it also makes them feel like they are creating something. You can see the beginnings of this course spread out above: Buttered and toasted crostinis, fig spread, goat cheese and topped with prosciutto.

The fig spread is a treasured find of mine and D’s. We uncovered it in the Middle Eastern section of one of our local markets– the one I can easily spend hours walking down the aisles because they have floor to ceiling goodies from all over the world. This spread hails from Lebanon and has three simple flavors: fig, sesame, anise. It is a fantastic addition to sandwiches, crostinis

and is really a power secret ingredient. It would be simple to make, but at$2 for an 8oz container with such a pure ingredient mixture, why bother? The prosciutto was from a local Italian deli.

We entered the main of our meal. The moment D said C and M would be over for dinner I proclaimed rabbit would be the headliner. I held fast through D’s skeptism. My thought: no matter what produce we would receive from our CSA, rabbit would be a perfect compliment. D still thought it was slightly disturbing to serve “rabbit salad,” so we broke the salad into more of a side.

We wanted the rabbit sweet to compliment the warming weather– a more savory base is fitting for fall and winter. I found a marinade based in orange juice, honey and cayenne which seemed perfect for this. I wanted to incorporate nectarines into the dish and thought to make a nectarine mousse. Unfortunately, as witnessed in the picture above, the mousse never set properly (recipe now in the works). It ended more a thick sauce that we poured over the rabbit and topped it all with crumbled bacon. The salad, red bib lettuce, sugar snap peas and radish were provided by our CSA.

Gluttony followed.

My newest acquisition is an ice cream attachment for my Kitchen Aid. I’ve been itching for an ice cream maker for a few years now and with a few Am Ex gift certificates in hand, it was a real steal. I went all out and made two treats for this meal. The first was a lemon-lime-ginger sorbet. This was a great sweet-tart intermission though I would add a little more ginger next time.

This was followed by D’s conquest: foie gras.

Let’s just put out that I know both sides of the foie gras debate before we get all the comments coming in. I think Gastronomica Magazine has a great article about it in their Winter 2007 issue. Let’s just say I can rarely afford it so rarely eat it. (But it is delicious.)

At this point my local butcher thinks I am crazy. Each day I go in I discuss and request more from them: free range veal, grass-fed beef, truffle butter, truffles, and this weekend, I asked if they would put rabbits and foie gras aside for me. They know me by site now and if I ask for a simple steak they ask if something is the matter– just steak?

We couldn’t afford the entire “foie” so we split if with one of the butchers who was happy to take home the other half. I asked for his discount, but he denied. Note to self: get in with butchers until discount is granted. D took care of the prep, slicing it in thirds, de-veining, salt, pepper nutmeg, layer, port, cognac, repeat. For whatever reason our most trusted cookbook failed us for the first time when it failed to mention that the foie must sit for a few good hours post-cooking to re-set– many recipes suggest 1-3 days. While we knew some sitting would be necessary, the foie was a little loose when served, still delicious (and is a great topping on salad for a luxurious dinner another night).

Lemon-lime-ginger sorbet repeat and then the finale.

I found a rhubarb streusel tart recipe on epicurious that I knew would be perfect. Not only did we receive rhubarb from our CSA the previous week, D is a big fan of anything with streusel in the name. How can you not love butter and brown sugar? Instead of mixing almonds into the streusel as called for I used the handy new ice cream maker and created my own almond ice cream.

This I believed was my true triumph. Something D couldn’t imagine tasting good– “almond ice cream just does not sound good,” yet he keeps coming back for more and requesting me to churn out new flavors– dare I attempt arugula custard? Not just yet… a cognac creation is next.

MENU:
Rhubarb Spritzer
Spanakopita
Fig-Goat Cheese-Procuitto Crostini
Roast Rabbit w/ Spring Greens & Nectarine Mousse
Lemon-Lime-Ginger Sorbet
Foie Gras
Lemon-Lime-Ginger Sorbet
Rhubarb Streusel Tart w/ Almond Ice Cream

I love Mexican food. For the simplicity and freshness in a quesadilla to the complexity of a 27 ingredient mole (pronounced mo-lay), I love it all. Every dish is layered, be it with cheese or with aromas and spices that can be difficult to place but beg to be sopped up with rice.

For eight years my good friend, B, managed a Mexican restaurant in NYC. The nights I spent there were some of the best in my life. We would close the place down with pitchers of margaritas and chips with guacamole in the backyard on humid summer days, or perch ourselves near the front bar talking about books and horror movies. It was more than a destination for our little crew– and ending the night with a $10 check didn’t hurt matters.

It was here that I introduced D to mole and it would become an obsession of his. I ordered it one night when he was on his way in and told him, “no worries, the mole is on the way.” He had no idea what I was talking about and I attempted to calm his nerves with another, “don’t worry, it’s a chocolate-based sauce, really good, you’ll like it.” D must have been thinking fondue, but when the dish finally arrived, he was hooked, ordering it every visit, licking the plate clean with every serving.

My friend has now left and the restaurant is just not the same.

I now get my Mexican fix locally, in Queens. First, with the taco truck down my street. At 7 PM each and every night that silver truck with red and green letters and lights pulls in front of the drug store. The man, he won’t tell me his name, but he’s from outside Guadalajara, makes a mean street taco with choice of eight fillings. D has moved on and is now on a torta kick. They are thick and fresh and overflow with lettuce and cheese and leave your hands dripping from sauces. I stick with a taco in a fresh corn tortilla, change up the filling.

The man is so good that even after a recent epic multi-course dining experience a friend just had to get one taco. The only words he could say upon completion: “oh yeeeeah.”

I’ve asked the man what kind of hot sauce he prefers, hoping to mimic his flavors at home. He laughs and just nods towards the bottles of green and red sauces, “all homemade!” I say he should bottle them and sell them to us gringos. He just smiles and hands over my taco, “extra sauce please.”

About a block away on the opposite side of the street is a small Mexican bodega. My belief is that it’s a restaurant disguised as a bodega that doesn’t want to deal with the permits of serving food. I only see people eating there. Even the cans of soda are for show (though the wall of chiles did help us with this recipe). The food counter overflows and families and workers will come in and sit at one of the two makeshift plastic tables over a plate overflowing with chicken, rice and beans.

The weekends are the real treat. For $1 you can purchase the homemade tamales, steaming and wrapped in corn husks. This weekend, D and I whetted our appetites with mole (chicken mole) and rolla (jalapeno and cheese). They make the experience of walking to the corner vegetable stalls much more pleasant.

This past January, I returned to Chicago just before my birthday. A trip to Rick Bayless reignited my love for Mexican restaurants (though I really wasn’t too thrilled with the guacamole). Needless to say, I swooned over the pyramids of black rice, the specialty margaritas, especially the spicy one, and dove head first into my plate of duck mole. Divine. So I bought the cookbook and had Rick (that’s right, first name basis) sign it.

Since the return from Chicago (nearly 6 months ago) D has poured over the pages of said cookbook envisioning dishes of every shape and flavor. He’s promised and promised to make one. Finally, he found one.

Before I mention what the dish entailed, beyond the above picture and title, let me say that the cookbook I purchased was Bayless’ Authentic Mexican. It’s a cookbook that has received rave reviews on its recipes, but smashed for its inaccessibility to the average person. There are no pictures, recipes can last for pages filled with tips and time lines on the side. It is very daunting. And when I went to the cookbook area to purchase any cookbook I asked my waiter, “what do you recommend.” I received a general, “this one is authentic, this one is simpler.” Who wouldn’t go with the authentic despite its inaccessibility?

So D poured over the pages and finally found his recipe of choice: Dark and Spicy Mole. For weeks he promised me a batch of mole. He was going to make it by himself– all 6 hours of it. So I stepped back and awaited the finale. It was slow coming.

Bayless recommends breaking the recipe down into 4 days. As I would expect with any 6 hour preparation, I became sous chef to D and we sped the process up to 2 days– how can you wait so long for mole?! Day 1 we prepped the ingredients: 4 different kinds of chiles, the Mexican chocolate, tomato, onion. Day 2 we did the rest: cleaning the chiles, reconstituting them, toasting spices, frying onions, raisins and almonds and pureeing batches. We did this for 6 hours (yes there were some breaks) until we were left with one bowl of pureed spices and chocolate and one bowl of pureed chiles.

We cooked sauce one down until thick, added sauce 2, cooked down until thick again, added 5 quarts of homemade chicken broth and then let it simmer for 45 minutes. After that we arranged two chickens onto the roasting pan, coated them with sauce (freezing 6 cups for later use) and baked it all for 1 hour.

That’s it. I dread our electric/ gas bill in the next month, but the mole was fantastic. Was it worth 6 hours? I don’t know. But I can’t fly to Chicago so easily all the time. It was complex and layered with some amazing flavor combinations– the spice-chocolate mixture tasted like peanuts and the chiles were so flavorful and sweet they tasted like chocolate. Together it was rich and well, beguiling, and changed over the week we had it.

In the end it doesn’t look like much. Sure, we could have dolled it up with some avocado, cilantro, maybe some sour cream. I could have created rice pyramids with a moat of mole, but the flavors were so intense we left it simple: some scallions, fresh tomatoes and wild rice. Plus, after 6 hours of cooking, do you really want to spend even another minute adding a twig of baby greens for the perfect picture? Sorry, you just want to dive in and devour.

The recipe is a few pages long (one page is all ingredients) so if you want it, let me know. It’s not for the faint of heart.