My Intentions

Yesterday morning it was damp, but mild, a typical start to a winter day in the Pacific Northwest. I enjoyed a hot apple cider as I toured the U District farmers' market, inspecting produce and tasting cheeses. A Savoy cabbage caught my eye and I determined it would be the perfect size for two. With my free hand it was scooped into my arms, where the rugged lacinato kale and a bunch of carrots, their greens still attached, were held against my chest. On a small square table near the register, a basket was piled high with Brussels sprouts, some no larger than a nickel. I freed my arms to sort through the tiny cabbages, all the while deliberating how they'd eventually be prepared.



There were many ideas for the Brussels sprouts, but I knew my intentions for the Savoy cabbage. It was to be sliced thinly and sautéed in butter with a leek cut in the same fashion. Then, after being simmered in cream and stock, I'd stir in some peas and lemon zest just before pouring it over pasta. Now I can't remember how I came across the recipe, but it had been sitting atop the bread box for a couple weeks and there were almost all the ingredients in the house, sans the Savoy cabbage.



With the cabbage at home, we were set for dinner. After the butter warmed in the sauté pan, in went the leeks then the sliced cabbage. I waited until the cabbage had just taken on color, but next time it will be golden and slightly caramelized before the liquid is added. Off the heat, the zest was stirred in with salt and pepper to taste. The mixture was poured over the rigatoni and peas then carefully stirred so the sauce could be absorbed by the pasta, leaving not a trace of liquid in the pot. A sprinkling of salty and nutty Parmiggiano Reggiano crowned each bowl, acting as a counterpoint to the sweet green peas. Pasta always makes a satisfying weeknight meal, and this is no different, as the sauce is just completed as the pasta is moved to the colander.



Rigatoni with Savoy Cabbage and Peas
Adapted from Gourmet, October 2002
Serves 4-6
I can't figure how I got to this recipe, but thanks to the date stamp on the bottom of the page I do know its been in the kitchen since January 12. In addition to letting the cabbage caramelize, I've increased the amount of peas by 1/2 cup. We both love peas and Stahlbush Farms has an excellent frozen product to satisfy our cravings in winter.



Ingredients
1 pound rigatoni or other medium sized pasta
2 tablespoons unsalted butter
1/2 pound Savoy cabbage, quartered lengthwise, core discarded, and leaves very thinly sliced
1 leek, white and light green parts thinly sliced (1 cup)
1/2 cup chicken broth
1/2 cup heavy cream
1 1/2 cups thawed frozen peas
Grated zest of one lemon
3/4 teaspoon salt
1/4 teaspoon black pepper
Parmesan cheese, grated

Cook pasta in a 6- to 8-quart pot of boiling salted water until al dente
While pasta is cooking, heat butter in a 12-inch nonstick skillet over moderately high heat until foam subsides, then sauté cabbage and leeks, stirring, golden at the edges, about 8 minutes
Add chicken broth and cream and bring to a boil, then reduce heat and simmer, uncovered, stirring occasionally, until cabbage is tender, about 2 minutes
Remove from heat and stir in zest, salt, and pepper.
Ladle out 1/2 cup pasta cooking water and reserve
Drain pasta in a colander and return to pot with peas
Combine cabbage mixture with pasta and 1/4 cup reserved pasta water
If pasta looks dry, moisten with some of remaining water
Serve with grated parmesan

Breaking My Rules

Its January, so for most that means limited fresh produce that hasn't been flown in from miles away. In Puget Sound, we're lucky to have root vegetables, greens, and plenty of apples and pears available from nearby farms. But if you're anything like me, apples and pears are all the fruit you've been eating for months. So each winter when the Meyer lemons and blood oranges appear, I can't help but breaking my rules about shopping local and buying all the gorgeous California citrus fruit I can fit in my basket.



A post for a savory winter fruit salad had caught my eye this week and I found it was full of oranges and grapefruit! So with a pizza in the oven for lunch, I pulled some oranges from the bowl of brightly colored orbs. I made quick work of peeling, chopping and slicing and found the reward of bright citrus would have been worth much more effort.



This citrus salad has flavor profile similar to a salad I've made each winter when fresh produce is lacking. The salad was inspired by an article in the February 2008 issue of Food & Wine about the Arrows Restaurant in Ogunquit, Maine. For the salad, toss grapefruit segments, sliced red onion, toasted walnuts, and hearty lettuces with sherry vinaigrette. Use a nice walnut oil in the dressing if you've got it.

Citrus Salad
Adapted from Mark Bittman in The New York Times
Serves 2

This salad should serve two, but E had one tiny little orange wheel and I polished off the rest.

Ingredients
2 blood oranges
1 orange
1/4 small red onion, sliced thin
Salt
1 teaspoon extra virgin olive oil
1/2 teaspoon sherry vinegar
1/4 teaspoon honey
1 teaspoon chopped cilantro

Peel citrus, removing as much pith as possible, and slice into wheels. Remove any pits, layer fruit on a serving dish, sprinkle with salt and garnish with sliced onion.
Whisk together olive oil, vinegar, honey, and any accumulated orange juice until well combined
Drizzle over salad
Top with cilantro

An Inspired Meal

Since our first time at Bastille, I'd been craving the chicken.

Early one October evening, E and I headed out to eat just after working out some wedding details at Canlis. The October issue of Sunset had a blurb telling of a Parisian-inspired cafe that was growing salad greens and herbs on the roof of their building in Ballard. This sounded like a place we needed to try.



Our first taste of Bastille, other than a local beer for E and a sparkling Champagne cocktail for moi, was a bleu d'auvergne brought to us with toasted nuts and dried fruit. The pungent cheese quickly reminded me of a tasty blue I enjoyed during our vacation, at a cafeteria next to one of the Loire Valley's many chateaux. (Ah la belle France, at tourist stop I had great cheese, a superb lentil salad and a not-so-bad bowl of salad greens. Sigh.) After the blue came the famous rooftop green salad and a forgettable bowl French onion soup I had requested. Seeing E's chicken fricassée, nicely browned and gently sauced with tender, earthy veggies, I had a bit of plate envy. I retrieved a piece of baguette from the basket and reached across the table for a sample of the sauce. It was full flavored, but not heavy, hinting at white wine and lightly finished with butter. In the days and weeks that followed this taste, I had each part of the meal at the front of my mind.



So, as I said, I'd been craving the chicken for months. The Saturday before Christmas we were hard at work picking up last minute items and wrapping presents of all types. Dinner up in Seattle was not in the cards that night, so I started hunting through cookbooks and websites in order to replicate the coveted fricassée. Epicurious provided me with a basic recipe that was enhanced to create an excellent replica of what we had tasted that night.

With the chicken as the centerpiece of our meal, we again started with the bleu d'auvergne served with toasted hazelnuts and dates. I had picked up a seeded baguette and then quickly washed some greens and stirred a vinaigrette to go along with our main course. It was a rare evening when E was open to dessert, so molten chocolate cakes, with quickly melting vanilla ice cream on top, closed our Bastille-inspired meal.



Chicken Fricassée with Carrots, Mushrooms and Artichokes
Adapted from Gourmet, March 2007
Serves 4

Definitely serve this with a baguette or any bread with a soft interior and a crusty coat. Any dish with an accompanying sauce to dredge bread through wins me points with E.

Ingredients
3 1/2 to 4 pounds chicken pieces
4 tablespoons flour
1 teaspoon kosher salt
1/2 teaspoon black pepper
2 tablespoons vegetable oil
2 1/2 teaspoons dried tarragon
1/2 cup finely chopped shallots
4 carrots, peeled and cut into 1" pieces
8 ounces cremini mushrooms, quartered
1 bay leaf
1/2 cup dry white wine or 2 tablespoons good white wine vinegar
3/4 cup heavy cream
3/4 chicken stock
8 ounces frozen artichoke hearts, defrosted at room temp
1/4 teaspoon fresh lemon juice

Pat chicken dry and sprinkle all over with flour, salt and pepper.
Heat oil in a 12-inch heavy skillet over moderately high heat until hot but not smoking, then sauté chicken in 2 batches, skin side down first, turning over once, until browned, 10 to 12 minutes total per batch.
Transfer to a plate.
Pour off all but 2 tablespoons oil from skillet, then cook tarragon, shallots, garlic, carrots, mushrooms and bay leaf over moderate heat, stirring occasionally, until shallots are softened, about 2 minutes.
Add wine or vinegar and stock and bring to a boil.
Stir in artichokes, cream, then add chicken, skin side up, and simmer, covered, until just cooked through, 20 to 25 minutes.
Transfer chicken with tongs to a platter and keep warm, loosely covered.
Stir in lemon juice and salt and pepper to taste.
Discard bay leaf and pour sauce over chicken.

Moelleux au Chocolate
From The Gourmet Cookbook
Serves 2

The first time I was to Paris, I had an excellent dinner at La Bastide Odeon. At the time, the restaurant was the most expensive my budget could accommodate and considered inexpensive by Parisian standards. The most prevalent memory of the meal, aside from the nice French couple at the table to the right helping me navigate the menu, was the moelleux au chocolate. After the trip, I searched cookbooks and websites for a comparable recipe (seems to be a pastime of mine). Having exhausted my options and finding nothing to my liking, I had given up hope. Until one night, my mom and I were at the local mall and I decided to purchase the just released Gourmet Cookbook. Sitting enjoying a tea, flipping the pages of my new purchase I came to the recipe for Individual Molten Chocolate Cakes. Reading further, I found this recipe had been requested by a reader after having the moelleux au chocolate at La Bastide Odeon(!!!!). What good fortune! I've made these many, many times over the years and always serve them with a simple vanilla ice cream instead of the coffee crème Anglaise with which I first sampled them.

Ingredients
2 tablespoons sugar
2 tablespoons plus 1 teaspoon butter
1.2 ounce bittersweet chocolate such a Callebaut
1 egg
1 tablespoon plus 2 1/2 teaspoons flour
pinch of salt
Ice cream, to serve

Preheat oven to 400 degrees F
Brush two ramekins with melted butter and dust with 1 teaspoon sugar
Melt butter and chocolate in the microwave by heating in 10 second intervals over medium heat, stirring between each interval
Cool slightly
Whisk egg and sugar in a medium bowl
Whish in flour, melted chocolate mixture, and salt
Pour batter into molds, filling about 2/3 full
(At this point you can put the ramekins in the refrigerator up to 12 hours)
Put ramekins on a baking pan
Bake until outer 1/3 to 1/2 inch of cakes is set but centers are still moist, about 10 minutes
Holding one ramekin with a pot holder, run a knife around edge of cake to loosen it, then invert it onto a plate
Repeat with second ramekin
Top with a scoop of ice cream