redacted recipes

Heirloom Tomato, Basil and Brie Bread Pudding

As I mentioned a few weeks ago, tomatoes have been the stars of the September CSA shares. In addition to the wonderful salsa I made with them, I was inspired by this fabulous-looking bread pudding recipe over at Pioneer Woman Cooks. I decided to take some liberties with the concept and to try to reproduce the flavors in a favorite pasta dish-- the very first recipe I ever made for Jack, in fact. I wondered if the marvelous mix of ripe tomatoes, basil, garlic and brie (marinated in good olive oil for the pasta dish) would translate well to a bread pudding bound together with eggs, yogurt and milk.

Result? A comforting dish, but not a very true translation of the flavors of the pasta recipe. Because the tomatoes, basil and garlic were baked (rather than gently warmed by hot pasta), the intensity of the flavors was muted. It was great comfort food and very tasty in it's own right, though, and I can live with that.

Why is there no photo of the finished product? Sadly, I just didn't get one good enough to show you.

Heirloom Tomato, Basil and Brie Bread Pudding
serves 6

8 slices stale French bread, cut into quarters
2 - 3 heirloom tomatoes, halved and thickly sliced
1 cup of fresh basil leaves, cut into strips
1/2 pound of brie, rind removed, torn into small pieces
3 garlic cloves, minced
8 eggs
1 cup milk
1 cup yogurt, plain
Salt & Pepper

Combine the tomatoes, basil and garlic in a bowl and let it sit at room temperature for at least an hour.

Preheat the oven to 350 F and lightly oil a baking dish.

Toss the bread with the tomato, basil and garlic mixture and pour it into the baking dish. Scatter the pieces of brie over the top, and then gently fold it all together.

Whisk the eggs, yogurt, milk and salt and pepper together and pour it over the bread. Bake for 40 - 50 minutes until set.

Only Slightly Food-Related

I've been a bad blogger recently and some of you have been kind enough to send me email letting me know you've noticed. So first off I want to say thanks to those of you who reached out-- it really is appreciated.

Now that Jack has gone back to the UK I've been predictably underwhelmed by the prospect of cooking food (worthy of sharing here) just for myself. Added to that I've also started a new and very challenging project at work, which requires a lot of time and attention. The days are long and time in the kitchen has been short.

Mind you, I've been eating well, really I have, but the meals have been a bit boring. Essentially I collect my CSA share on Saturday and figure out a large dish I can make and then live on for most of the rest of the week. On the upside, it's a very healthy diet of vegetables, grains and fruits with very, very little meat. On the downside, stewed vegetables over grains every night doesn't provide a lot of material for posts.

But I miss blogging and I miss you guys, so I promise to share with you what my latest one-pot medley consists of from here on out. In the meantime I will leave you with this little story, which is only food-related because I overheard it while buying milk:

Overheard At The Corner Bodega:

Older sister: You better stop running around this store and get in line.

Little brother: You're stupid. STUPID STUPID STUPID!

Father: You even know how to spell that word?

Little brother: Uh, no. Why?

Father: Who's stupid now?

Heirloom Tomato Salsa Cruda

 

September is such a great month for tomatoes here in New York, and my CSA is coming through with huge quantities of them. Not just any tomatoes, either, but gorgeous heirloom varieties. The bulk of this weekend has been about tomato recipes when I haven't been snacking on them just as they are.

Salsa cruda (also known as pico de gallo) is one of my very favorite things in the world. It's always made with raw ingredients-- typically tomatoes, lime juice, chili peppers, onions and cilantro, and it's a cut above other salsa recipes, in my opinion. I never make any other kind anymore. Until yesterday, though, I had never made salsa with heirloom tomatoes-- I generally use big old Jerseys-- but having done so, I think I've spoiled myself for any other kind. The tartness of the green zebras against the sweetness of the yellow and red ones (I'm not sure what varieties we got for those) is just sublime.

Heirloom Tomato Salsa Cruda

3 - 4 heirloom tomatoes (mix up the varieties!)
1 - 2 jalapenos
1 small white onion
1 lime
1/2 cup fresh chopped cilantro

Finely chop the tomatoes, jalapenos and onion and combine in a bowl. Cut the lime in half and squeeze the juice, one half at a time, over the chopped vegetables, to taste. Add the cilantro and stir. Cover and let site for an hour to marry the flavors. Taste and adjust according to preference (you may want more chili or cilantro or lime juice).

Daring Bakers: Chocolate Eclairs

Another month and another Daring Bakers challenge. This month's challenge is hosted by Meeta of What's For Lunch, Honey? and Tony of Tony Tahhnan. They chose chocolate éclairs from the fabulous cookbook Chocolate Desserts by Pierre Hermé (written by Dorie Greenspan).

The origin of this delectable pastry is unclear. Larousse Gastronomique  references Catherine de' Medici's chef for the invention of pâte à choux and French chef Antonin Carême for the invention of the eclair in the 19th century. Other sources refute this as a myth, reporting recipes for filled choux pastry appearing much earlier and in many other countries. For me, an eclair is quintessentially French (the word means a flash of lightning, incidentally), whomever may have invented it, and I was thrilled to be making them.

The Pierre Hermé recipe consists of choux pastry filled with the most decadent crème pâtissière and then topped with a lovely bittersweet chocolate fondant. The rules of the challenge stated that if we could substitute one of the chocolate components (pastry cream or glaze) with whatever we liked. Because I'd never made this recipe before I wanted to taste it as intended and made it exactly as written. I topped half of the chocolate-filled eclairs with the chocolate fondant and then made a coffee fondant for the rest. 

A huge thanks to Tony and Meeta for such a wonderful challenge! 

Stacked Watermelon and Heirloom Tomato Salad

This is it. This is the perfect summer salad. Refreshing, juicy, sweet, and a little salty, the combination of heirloom tomatoes and watermelon will make your mouth sing.

Don't you just love it when you can layer simple fresh ingredients together and the outcome looks elaborate and fancy? I do.

To make the salad, alternate rounds of watermelon (you can use a biscuit cutter) with slices of ripe heirloom tomatoes and top the stack with basil, olive oil and balsamic vinegar. A sprinkling of freshly ground black pepper and little fleur de sel adds contrast to the sweetness of the melon and tomatoes. Serve it with a medallion of goat cheese on the side (or in the stack, if you like, though it isn't as pretty that way).

Enough About Food, Let's Talk About Us

Redacted Recipes is not a confessional blog. We write about the food we make and the food we've eaten in restaurants and sometimes Jack writes about food in the context of growing up in the north of England. We often sprinkle anecdotes about ourselves and friends and family into posts because they give context to the food we're writing about, but we've never been prone to journal-like posts about how we're feeling or rants about about politics and religion. We do that elsewhere.

But those of you who have been reading Redacted Recipes for a while will have gleaned a fair amount of information about us by now. You know that I have three wonderful children, one of whom is vegetarian, and you know I turned fifty this year. You know we like Radiohead, and that we drove across the country in May. You know that we are members of a CSA and that we blame Tammy of Food on the Food for seducing us into joining. You know that Jack and I met through the internet, and that the first four years of our relationship was transatlantic. You know that he landed a contract here in New York and that we've been living happily together in Brooklyn for the last six years. Given that you know these things and that we're facing a big change, we felt it would be decidedly odd not to acknowledge our situation-- partly because it will change the nature of the posts in this blog, and partly because we have come to think of many of you as friends.

In January of this year we had to come to grips with the fact that Jack's work visa expires at the end of this month. We had to face the fact that his employer chose not to sponsor him for a green card and we had to look at options and make hard decisions. It's not the right time for Ann to relocate to the UK and (our ultimate plan) and take a lower-paying job, and it's not optimal for Jack to stay here unemployed until he can legally work. And so we decided to go back to being transatlantic for the next few years.

Without wanting to seem too pathetic, it's going to be a month of farewells. In addition to Jack's leaving, Ann's youngest daughter, Sophie, will be spending the first semester of her senior high school year in an international school in Italy, and her older daughter will head back off to college. It will be a bit quiet here in Brooklyn, for sure.

On the up side, Jack will be posting about all things food-related in the UK and will probably be eating a lot of curry again. Both of us will be posting about the challenges of cooking for one while still keeping it interesting-- something Jack does far better than Ann, who likes an audience when she cooks and tends to eat rather haphazardly on her own (left-over rice for breakfast, anyone?). And we'll have wonderful romantic visits with each other.

On the down side, well, we all know what the down side is. We will miss joy of the small daily domestic routines we've gotten used to, and we will miss each other terribly.

We just thought you should know.

Wild and Brown Rice Stuffed Peppers

I love it when my produce and my pantry conspire present me with an obvious dish. This week's CSA share brought us bell peppers, onions, and corn (amongst other things), and as I was putting it all away the last of a block of feta cheese pretty  much leapt out of the refrigerator (along with a jar of peanut butter, but that's another story) and fell at my feet begging to be used.I don't particularly like raw bell peppers, though I adore them roasted, baked and fried, so I promised the feta I'd feature it with the peppers in a hot dish. Then I crammed all of the produce into the fridge and slammed the door and went off to the All Points West festival to see Radiohead.

As an aside, I have to say that I'm getting too damned old for outdoor all day music festivals. It was hot and a long walk from the train into Liberty State Park and it was a long wait for Radiohead, but worth it, as always. My two daughters were with us-- they grew up with Radiohead as background  music-- and very sweetly told their friends they would be hanging out with us for that part of the festival, even though I repeatedly told them I didn't mind if they chose not to. How nice is that?! At their age I'd have rather died than go to a rock concert with my parents.

It was a great show, but a long day and we didn't get home until about 1:00 AM, and I felt ruined on Sunday morning-- sore feet, aching back, and generally washed out.  It was the sort of day that begged for frequent naps and dinner delivered, but I couldn't ignore all that CSA produce and I'd made a promise to the feta.So I shuffled into the kitchen and took stock and then I curled up with a favorite cookbook, The New American Plate. I think I might have dozed off a little, but between naps I found a recipe for stuffed peppers which not only called for feta, but also for fresh corn. And onions! Three CSA items! It also required kidney beans and rice, which were in the cupboard. Perfect! I love it when everything comes together like that.

I adapted the amounts of the ingredients to make considerably more stuffing, as I knew I'd happily toss it into salads and eat it for lunch all week. Don't do what I did and forget to put the tops of the peppers back on before baking-- your kidney beans will go dark and burned-looking (they tasted fine, just looked ugly).

Peppers Stuffed with Rice, Beans and Feta

4 medium bell peppers
1 cup rice, cooked (I used a wild and brown rice mix)
1 can pinto beans, rinsed and drained
1 medium onion, chopped
3/4 cup fresh corn kernels
1/2 cup feta, crumbled
1/4 cup toasted pine nuts
1/2 teaspoon dried basil
1 tablespoon fresh lemon juice
2 tablespoons olive oil
salt and pepper, to taste

Cook the rice and then let it cool.

Prepare the stuffing by mixing the rice with all of the ingredients (except the peppers, of course!). You can do this ahead of time and stick it in your refrigerator until you want to bake the peppers.

To assemble, preheat the oven to 375 F. Cut the tops off the peppers and remove the seeds. Reserve the tops. Spoon the filling into the peppers, packing it lightly, and then replace the pepper tops. Place the stuffed peppers in a baking dish and place it on the middle rack of the oven. Pour about an inch of water around the bottom of the peppers. Bake for about 45 - 50 minutes.

Stone Fruit Cobbler

Who knew fresh fruit could become so overwhelming? When we joined our CSA I was much more concerned about using up the vegetables and happily signed up for a fruit share with nary a reservation. I'm not exactly complaining, mind you, I just wasn't prepared for the volume of fruit needing to be used immediately. This is the glorious difference between fruit harvested before it's ripe for the purposes of shipping, and fruit picked at the height of juicy ripeness-- and, man, does it ever taste better. It just doesn't keep.

So when we were presented with a pint of sugar plums, a pint of apricots  and two pounds of peaches (and lord help me, we still had some plums left from the previous week!), I knew I had to do something with them immediately. Fortunately, I have that super-easy and oh so decadent cobbler recipe, which is basically a layer of whatever fruit you like topped with a layer of bread cubes (I like to use brioche), soaked with a butter, egg and sugar mixture and then baked until the bread gets nice and golden.

I decided to pit and slice all of the fruit I had on hand, figuring the different flavors would compliment each other. I peeled the peaches, but lazily left the skin on the apricots and plums. And instead of cinnamon, I used ginger. I also baked individual small dishes, instead of one large one, which is a bit fussy, but looks too cute for words.

Whoa, daddy! It was damned tasty.

Stone Fruit Cobbler

However many peaches, plums and apricots you need to use up, cut into slices
4 1-inch slices of brioche, cubed (about half of a large loaf)
1/2 cup unsalted butter, melted
1 1/2 cups sugar
2 tablespoons flour
1 egg, beaten
Ground ginger, to taste

Place the fruit in the bottom of a round baking dish, toss them with as much ginger as you like, and then layer the brioche cubes over them. Mix the melted butter with the sugar and flour and then add the beaten egg and mix well. Pour the sugar mixture over the brioche cubes. Bake at 350 F for about 40 minutes.

Cool as a Cucumber, Melon and Tomato Salad

In the damned dog days of summer when the air is heavy and sultry and the humidity is so high that walking down the street feels like a water aerobics class, you need food that soothes and cools-- and you definitely do NOT need to be dealing with a hot stove and oven.

My grandmother used to serve a side-dish of sliced cucumbers with ice cubes and a little vinegar. She also liked to chill melon and then serve it in large wedges with salt and pepper. Both these dishes provided instant relief from the heat in the height of summer, and they're a natural combined together.

Crunchy cukes with tomatoes and ripe, juicy melon make for a lovely cooling dish that will help you beat the heat and maybe make you feel a little bit less cranky about it all. This salad goes out to Beat the Heat, hosted by A Southern Grace.

Cool as a Cucumber, Melon and Tomato Salad

2 cups cantaloupe, cubed
1 cup cucumber, seeded and chopped
1 cup cherry tomatoes (or chopped tomato)
1/2 cup red onion, diced
1 tablespoon olive oil
2 tablespoons fresh lime or lemon juice
fresh ground black pepper,
a light sprinkle of sea salt
1/2 cup fresh mint, coarsely chopped
feta cheese, crumbled

Toss it all together and let meld for an hour or so in the refrigerator.

The Zucchini War: That Thing I Do

I like zucchini, I really do, but two pounds of zucchini every Saturday (who had this CSA idea anyway? I blame you, Tammy, just as you predicted I would) is a LOT of squash, let me tell you. I have tossed them into impromptu vegetable curries, hidden them in soups, made Peter M's Kourkouto, and even pickled the damned things. It's an ongoing battle. Luckily I have a fall-back thing I do to them (it isn't really a recipe, it's a thing) that is so tasty and so  more-ish that I forget I'm bitter as soon as I have the first bite.

I guess I should come up with a name for this thing and stop referring to it as "that thing I do," but the obvious name is just boring. I mean, "Broiled Zucchini Halves with Parmesan" is hardly exciting or catchy, but there you have it. That's what it is and I don't care how simple and boring it  might sound, I am telling you now, it's really, really good. You end up with a crunchy fabulous treat which is a great substitute for garlic bread, and which delivers the same sort of satisfaction, PLUS you get to feel virtuous for having added more veggies to your plate. You can also do this with yellow summer squash, as pictured, but I prefer zucchini.

Here's what you do:

Clean and slice some zucchini in half, lengthwise. If you have giant monster zukes, then slice them into quarters, also lengthwise. Place them on an oven-proof dish and sprinkle them liberally with freshly ground black pepper and salt.

If it's winter, and you already have something in your oven, pop them in and let them bake for about 10 minutes. You want to just barely cook them, and you want them to have some crunch left. If it's summer and hot and you have an non-air conditioned apartment you can use the microwave-- cook them two minutes at a time and check on them. It will take more or less time, depending on how many you're working with.

Once they are partially cooked, sprinkle them with a little bit of chopped garlic and then grate lots and lots of fresh parmesan over them. Stick them under your broiler until the cheese starts to bubble a bit and turn golden.

Then pick them up and eat them with your fingers. Yum.