Roasted Potatoes for Special Occasions

We used to have an all-time favorite roasted potato recipe. It reigned supreme for nearly a decade, and almost never failed to impress. Poor recipe. It's still going to be our go-to roasted potato recipe for weeknights, but duck fat and cornmeal joined together to stage a coup that dethroned the rosemary potatoes as a special occasion dish.

The victorious recipe is courtesy of Nigella Lawson, and I swear to you that it just might change your life; it could make a potato lover out of a spud spurner. Why? Because usually you have to take your pick when it comes to a cooked potato's virtues, but in this case you get them all, including a fluffy, almost creamy interior, and a crispy, golden outside. 

The outer part of the potato is so crispy because the potatoes have been tossed with some cornmeal. It might sound strange, but thanks to the cornmeal, these potatoes become almost battered, and because they're cooked in plentiful amounts of duck fat, they're almost like French fries, too. The duck fat also lends the potatoes a certain richness, which really shines when paired with some diced onions or scallions. So that's why I say that these potatoes are like every yummy kind of potato all rolled in to one- they're like a baked potato combined with a roasted potato, mixed with a battered, fried, potato, with some hash browns thrown in.

Duck Fat Roasted Potatoes

(From Nigella Lawson)

We threw a handful of diced onions in to the pan during the last 15 or 20 minutes of cooking, which was delicious. We did that, though, because we didn't have any scallions at the time. So if you have scallions or chives, I would highly recommend tossing them with the cooked potatoes. Of course, you could use onions and scallions.

6 lbs medium potatoes (I like red-skinned ones)

2 tablespoons semolina

2 cups goose fat (I used duck fat)

Optional: A handful of diced onions and/or sliced scallions or chives

Preheat the oven to 450 degrees.

Peel the potatoes (if they have thick skins; if you use thin-skinned potatoes, I would leave the peel on), and cut each one into three by cutting off each end at a slant so that you are left with a wedge or triangle in the middle.

Put the potatoes into salted cold water in a large pot, and bring to a boil, letting them cook for 4 minutes. Drain the potatoes into a colander and then tip back into the empty pot, sprinkling over the semolina. Shake the potatoes around to coat them well and, with the lid clamped on, give the pan a good rotation and the potatoes a proper bashing so that their edges disintegrate or fuzz and blur a little: this facilitates the crunch effect later.

Meanwhile, empty the duck fat into a large roasting pan and heat in the oven until seriously hot. Then tip the semolina–coated potatoes carefully into the hot fat and roast in the oven for an hour or until they are darkly golden and crispy, turning them over halfway through cooking. If the oven's hot enough they probably won't need more than about 25 minutes a side; and it's better to let them sit in the oven (you can always pour off most of the fat and leave them in the pan) till the very last minute.

Potato Gratin

Have you ever noticed that a potato gratin and a cured ham make a lovely pairing? I highly recommend that you try it, perhaps for Christmas or another special occasion, or maybe for no occasion at all.

I generally save this dish for special occasions because au gratin potatoes are just too good, not to mention the fact that they're not particularly healthy. I love love love this side dish, and I completely lack self-control when in its presence. Seriously, I can eat 2 pounds of it, easy. 


There are times, though, when you just need to break out the special occasion dishes on a normal day, and we happened upon one of those occasions recently when we came home with a little dry-cured ham.
After some Epicurious-searching, I found what seemed to be the perfect potato gratin recipe for this particular night. It's rich and creamy, but because it contains mostly milk and only a little bit of cream, it's not too heavy or fatty. (We'll save the hard-core gratins for the holidays.) The flavors in this version are simple, but you still get that perfect creamy, nutmeg-y, toasty, potato-ey flavor.

So now that the weather is getting a little bit cooler, and some warming foods are in order, I highly suggest that you try these potatoes, whether it's a special day or just any old day.

Potato Gratin

(From Epicurious)

• 3 pounds russet (Idaho) potatoes of uniform size
• 2 tablespoons unsalted butter, softened
• 1 medium garlic clove, crushed through a press
• 1 1/2 to 2 cups half-and-half or milk
• Salt and freshly ground black pepper to taste
• Freshly grated nutmeg to taste
• 4 tablespoons crème fraîche (optional)
• 1/3 to 1/2 cup heavy cream
• 1/4 cup Parmesan cheese

Peel and wash the potatoes and slice them into rounds 1/8 inch thick, using a mandoline, the slicing disk of a food processor, or a sharp knife.

Generously butter a 9 by 12-inch heavy shallow baking dish, preferably earthenware or cast-enamel, or an oval gratin dish of comparable size. (You can also use a 12-inch cast-iron skillet.) Rub the dish with half of the crushed garlic.

In a large saucepan, bring the half-and-half to a simmer with the remaining garlic and season generously with salt and pepper. Set aside.

Preheat the oven to 350°F. Arrange the potatoes in one overlapping layer on the bottom of the dish. Season the layer generously with salt, pepper, and nutmeg. Arrange two more layers on top, seasoning each layer liberally. Press the layers down to compact them. Pour in enough half-and-half to come up just a little below the top layer of potatoes. Set the baking dish on a larger baking sheet, cover with foil, and bake until the potatoes feel tender when pierced with a knife, about 1 hour.

Raise the oven temperature to 425°F, remove the foil, and bake until the top begins to brown, about 10 minutes. Pour just enough cream to cover the top, dab it with crème fraîche, if using, and sprinkle evenly with the Parmesan. Bake until the top is brown and bubbly, 15 to 20 minutes more. Remove from the oven and let the potatoes stand for 10 minutes to absorb the cream. Cut into squares and serve.

Thyme-Roasted Sweet Potatoes

I'm never happy about the end of summer, but this year I'm rather looking forward to stews and braises, squash and sweet potatoes. Growing up, I was not a fan of the sweeter tuber, but it's grown on me. Not only is a sweet potato tasty, I learned, but a sweet potato will keep you fuller longer than its white counterpart will, and it has a lower glycemic index.

Health benefits aside, I can see why some people remain less than fond of sweet potatoes, and my theory is that the potato's very sweetness is the problem- a lot of adults just don't want such a sweet side with their entrees.

This preparation, however, nicely dispatches with that complaint. The potato, of course, remains a bit sweet, but the garlic, thyme, and red pepper flakes carry it from the realm of the saccharine to the savory, and it's a very satisfying transformation. Plus, the potatoes get a bit crispy on the outside, while the inside becomes meltingly tender and soft. Just be careful, because the soft, almost creamy centers can also be molten.

So if any of you people out there have friends or family members who claim to not like sweet potatoes, then I encourage you to try this side dish. You just might change their minds.

Thyme-Roasted Sweet Potatoes(From Epicurious)

• 4 medium sweet potatoes, peeled and cut into 1 1/2-inch-thick rounds
• 3 tablespoons olive oil
• 4 large garlic cloves, minced
• 1/3 cup fresh thyme leaves, plus 6 thyme sprigs for garnish
• 1/2 teaspoon kosher salt
• 1/2 teaspoon red pepper flakes

Preheat oven to 450°F. In large mixing bowl, combine all ingredients and toss. Arrange potato slices in single layer on parchment-lined heavyweight rimmed baking sheet or in 13x9-inch baking dish. Place on top rack of oven and roast until tender and slightly browned, about 40 minutes. Serve warm or at room temperature, garnished with thyme sprigs.

Roasted Garlic and Rosemary Potatoes

This is one of our old-school recipes. It was one of our first forays into the world of from scratch, whole foods cooking, and we thought that we were the bomb. In a way I suppose we were, because this recipe is still awesome, 8 years later.

Simple enough to throw together for a weeknight dinner, this dish is also nice enough for company. It's especially delicious served with grilled meats. The potatoes become golden brown and crispy on the outside, with fluffy, soft interiors. The garlic sufficiently perfumes the potatoes, but if you have some hard-core garlic lovers dining with you, encourage them to squish the garlic out of the skins--they'll be left with a delicious roasted garlic paste. Your house will smell delicious after you make this recipe; your breath might be another story.

(Sorry that the pictures are of the uncooked potatoes-there was no more natural light available by the time dinner was ready.)

Roasted Garlic and Rosemary Potatoes

• 1/2 pounds thin-skinned red potatoes
• 1/2 head of garlic, cloves separated but unpeeled
• 4 sprigs rosemary
• 1 1/2 tablespoons olive oil
• Salt and freshly ground pepper

Preheat the oven to 425 degrees. 

Cut the potatoes into a 1/2 inch to 3/4 inch dice, and spread on a parchment paper-lined baking sheet. (If you don't have parchment, foil will work, but you may have a little bit of sticking.) Drizzle the olive oil over the potatoes, and season with salt and freshly ground black pepper. I would suggest starting with 1/2 teaspoon salt and a 1/4 teaspoon pepper. You'll have an opportunity later to taste and adjust for seasoning. Toss well.

Spread the garlic cloves and rosemary springs amongst the potatoes. Cover with foil and seal tightly. Slide into the center of the oven and cook for 25 minutes. After 25 minutes, the dish should be smelling strongly, and when you check the potatoes, they will be soft and easily pierced with a fork. If not, re-cover with foil, and cook for a few more minutes until the aforementioned characteristics are achieved.

Remove the foil and stir the potatoes (a spatula works well). Cook for and additional 15 minutes, stirring every once in a while, until the potatoes are golden brown on the outside and fluffy-soft on the inside. At some point, taste for seasoning and adjust if necessary. 

If you like, remove the garlic and rosemary to serve, or just inform your companions that the garlic cloves are there. Cooking times will vary based on the age and variety of potato, and the size of the dice. These general cooking guidelines work nicely, though.

Daring Cooks--Pierogis

The August 2010 Daring Cooks’ Challenge was hosted by LizG of Bits n’ Bites and Anula of Anula’s Kitchen. They chose to challenge Daring Cooks to make pierogi from scratch and an optional challenge to provide one filling that best represents their locale.

We're a little late on this challenge, but better late than never, I suppose. The pierogi challenge led to all sorts of brainstorming and we came up with a lot of different potential fillings. But in the we end decided to, for the most part, stick with the standard recipe.

The original recipe contained potatoes with cheese, onion,  and bacon, and we added cheddar cheese and a roasted poblano pepper. We also decided to serve the pierogies with a corn sauce in order to make the dish a bit more seasonally appropriate. Ultimately, though, we sort of served the corn on the side, rather than as a sauce because we just wanted to get the heck out of the kitchen.

The corn 'sauce,' by the way, was our super-fabulous Creamless Creamed Corn. If you don't really feel like going to the trouble of making your own pierogies, we would still really suggest making the creamless creamed corn, because it's awesome.

Because I prefer pierogies that have been boiled then pan-seared, we went with that technique, but it's entirely optional. The original recipe called for what seemed to me to be a small amount of dough, and we had a ton of leftover filling. This wasn't really a problem, as the filling was delicious, but in the recipe below I've tripled the dough recipe in an attempt to have a more appropriate dough-to-filling ratio.

Pierogies

Dough

• 6 to 6 1/2 cups all-purpose flour
• 3 large eggs
• 3 teaspoon salt
• About 3 cups lukewarm water  

Filling

• 3 potatoes
• Butter-1/2 to 3 tablespoons
• 1 onion, diced
• 3/4 cup cottage cheese, drained  
• 1/2 cup cheddar cheese
• 3 slices of  bacon, cooked till crispish and diced (you can add more bacon if you like or omit that part completely if you’re vegetarian)
• 1 poblano pepper, roasted, peeled, seeded and diced
• Salt
• Freshly ground black pepper

Place the flour in a large bowl or on a work surface and make a well in the center. Break the egg into it, add the salt and a little lukewarm at a time.

Bring the dough together, kneading well and adding more flour or water as necessary. Cover the dough with a bowl or towel. You’re aiming for soft, dry dough. Let it rest for 20 minutes.

While the dough rests, cut the potatoes into largish chunks. Place the chunks in a large saucepan and cover with cold water. Place on the stove, bring the water to a boil, reduce the heat, and simmer until the potatoes are easy to break apart with a fork (about 20 minutes).
 
Drain the potatoes and dump them back into the saucepan. While the potatoes are boiling, saute the onion with a little bit of butter over medium heat, until they're soft and transparent. When the onions are ready, add them to the potatoes.
 
Add the cottage cheese, cheddar cheese, bacon and poblanos. Season to taste with salt and pepper.
 
On a floured work surface, roll the dough out thinly (1/8” or about 3 millimeters) cut with a 2 to 5 inch round cookie cutter, or a glass. Spoon a portion (a teaspoon to a tablespoon, depending on the size of your cutting implement) of the filling into the middle of each circle.
 
Fold the dough in half and pinch the edges together. If necessary, wet the edges with a little bit of water to help them adhere. Gather the scraps of dough, re-roll and fill. Repeat with remaining dough.
 

Bring a large saucepan of salted water to boil. Drop in the pierogi, not too many, only single layer in the pan! Return to a boil and reduce the heat a little bit. When the pierogi rise to the surface, continue to simmer a few minutes more ( usually about 2-3 minutes).

Remove one dumpling with a slotted spoon and taste if ready. It should be firm (not mushy), but no longer doughy and raw-tasting. When satisfied, remove remaining pierogies from the water.

This part is optional--melt about 2 1/2 tablespoons of butter in a large skillet. When the butter is hot enough that a pierogi placed in the pan makes a sizzling noise, add the pierogies, without crowding the pan too much, and toss them around until they're golden brown.

A Sunday Suppers at Lucques Easter: Grilled Asparagus with Prosciutto; Leg of Lamb with Chorizo Stuffing, Romesco Potatoes, and Olives; Meyer Lemon Custard Cakes

(The Mister)

(Nina)

The bunnies would like to wish you a happy belated Easter or Passover.

When I started planning for the family Easter dinner, I knew that I wanted to make a leg of lamb because for some reason the burgeoning life and bloominess of spring makes me want to eat a baby animal. I looked in Sunday Suppers at Lucques first, and I have no idea why I bothered to look in any of the other cookbooks. I mean, Leg of Lamb with Chorizo Stuffing, Romesco Potatoes and Black Olives just sounds like lamby perfection.


So I started by covering the leg of lamb in a thick rub that consisted of garlic, parsley, black pepper and rosemary, and it went into the fridge to marinate for the next 24 hours.


Note to self: do not mess with raw lamb, go running in the woods, and then get back in the car--when you get back in the car and smell your arms, you will likely feel like puking.


Easter Eve's preparations also included making Jim Lahey's ciabatta bread dough, making Suzanne Goin's Olive Oil Cake with Candied Tangerines, and making the romesco sauce. If you've never had romesco, I highly recommend that you try it. It's a sauce made from fried bread, toasted nuts, dried peppers, garlic, and tomatoes. It's delicious on all kinds of stuff from pork to grilled meats, fish, and vegetables.



The olive oil cake started with creaming egg yolks and sugar together for about 7 minutes until they reach 'full volume,' whatever that means. The other ingredients were then folded into the egg yolks. The thing is, 'full volume' is apparently a whole lot-it almost filled the bowl of the stand mixer. This was mightily confusing, as there was just no way that the resulting batter was going to fit into a 9-inch cake pan. Perhaps Suzanne meant a 9-inch springform pan, but because I didn't want to end up with a cake that had dry edges and a raw interior, I went with two 9-inch cake pans. This resulted in one ugly cake. There's a good reason SSAL is lacking a picture of this recipe.


The candied tangerines were rather pretty, though. I actually used clementines, but don't tell Suzanne. Maybe that's why the dessert sucked, but I doubt it--more on that later.








The clementines were candied by melting sugar with water and half of a vanilla bean.



The clementines were added when the mixture was simmering, and they were cooked until they became puffy and shiny.


Suzanne Goin suggests that this be served with creme fraiche whipped cream, but I decided that I wanted to go with ice cream instead. Initially I was thinking that I wanted to stick with the sweet/savory thing, so honey pine nut ice cream seemed like a good idea. But then I thought that maybe I should do just honey, or pecan, or butter pecan, or rum, or bourbon, or creme fraiche ice cream. Oh, I was confused.


So I sought out Nick's help. 'Here,' I said, 'Try this and tell me which of those ice cream flavors would work best with this dessert.'



His response was, 'Mmmmmm...' eyes bugging wide, 'Bleghhh!!!' as he ran to the sink to spit out the mouthful.

Wow. I hadn't been too crazy about it and had been considering making a backup dessert, but I didn't think that it was that bad.



'So I guess the answer is that no ice cream flavor will work well with that disgustingness, right?'

'Right.'

Nick actually thought that the cake was okay, and it was the candied clementines that he found so objectionable. He said that they were too tart, but I think that part of the problem might have been the very strong flavor of the vanilla pod. Vanilla beans, as opposed to vanilla extract, have an extraordinarily heady aroma. They're almost intoxicating, partially because they actually smell alcoholic. And, I admit, the candied clementines had a very strong vanilla flavor.


Other people seemed to like the cake, but I thought that the olive oil was a bit too strong, which makes sense, as there was a whole cup of the expensive stuff in there. I was also not crazy about the way the semolina flour lent the cake a somewhat gritty texture. In the future, if I want to make an olive oil dessert, I'll make this one.


Interestingly, my coworkers ate most of the cake when I brought it to work the next day. I've brought in delicious desserts that have not been finished, so I don't really know what's up with that. Maybe they were just particularly ravenous that night.



So back to the ice cream. At the very least, I figured it would give us something dessert-like to eat if everyone found the cake to be inedible. Ultimately, I decided to make a rum ice cream, as my brother had left some rum at my house over the holidays and he's in California, so he can't do anything about me using it. Kidding, Garrett!


Unfortunately, it turned out to be spiced rum as opposed to dark rum, so it couldn't really be tasted in the ice cream. That led me to decide to add some buttered pecans to the mix. As I was browning them in the butter, I figured that I might as well make the butter brown, because that's pretty tasty. Only later did I realize that it wouldn't go so well with the cake or the backup dessert. Oh, well.


Better yet, I burnt the pecans. I didn't notice at the time, so I dumped them in the ice cream. Only later, when it was time for dessert, did I notice their rather unpalatable roastiness. Nick said that the ice cream tasted like popcorn, which was probably a diplomatic way of putting it.


I mentioned a backup dessert--I had seen the recipe on Epicurious, it got good reviews, I had the ingredients, and I could whip it up in a jiffy. This particular fluffy lemoniness reminded me of this dessert, and it was likewise delicious. If you want a fast, economical, yummy dessert, I would highly recommend these little guys.







So how was the lamb? Awesome. Even people who don't normally like lamb claimed to enjoy this specimen. I made a 5 pound leg of lamb last year and had a pretty good amount of leftovers. This year, none.


It was stuffed with a mixture of chorizo sausage, breadcrumbs, rosemary, a chile de arbol, onions, thyme, and parsley. There was supposed to be some mint in there, but I think that fresh mint is kind of icky, so I didn't feel like buying it.



The stuffed lamb was baked until it reached an internal temperature of 120. Like last year's recipe, this leg o' lamb was supposed to rest for 20 minutes. Unlike last year's recipe, I didn't let it get ice-cold before serving it. Last year I comforted myself by telling myself that a lot of cultures intentionally do not always serve lamb while it's hot. That way I could almost pretend like I meant to do it.



The stuffing was awesome by itself, and the earthiness of the chorizo perfectly complimented the gaminess of the lamb. Rather than emphasizing the sometimes unpleasant mustiness of the meat, it made the lamb play nice.




The herb rub and romesco potatoes likewise brought out all of the best aspects of the lamb, and the romesco sauce was demolished. It was eaten as a dip, tossed with the potatoes, and passed on the side with the lamb. Man, that stuff is good.



It was all topped with black olives, which were also absolutely perfect with all of the other flavors. I have to admit that it was supposed to be a black olive salad made with parsley, mint and olives, but I just served some chopped up olives. My excuse was that I had been afraid that there would just be too much going on if I used the herb salad. 
I actually probably should have trusted Suzanne on that one, but again, I just didn't really feel like messing with mint.
As an appetizer, I made prosciutto with grilled asparagus and whole grain mustard. It was super-simple and super-delicious, so it was perfect for a party. All I had to do was put some prosciutto on a platter (I just used the baking sheet that I had used to toss them with oil), grill some asparagus for a couple minutes, and put it on top of the prosciutto. The sauce was just creme fraiche with whole grain mustard stirred into it; it was supposed to be drizzled on top, but I kept it on the side.





My aunt had decorated the table with some Peeps, which I thought was a rather fabulous touch.


Earlier this week, my co-workers thought that I was a bit strange when I confessed that I like to bite the heads off of Peeps. I suppose it's a genetic trait, though.


You know what else you can do with Peeps? Smash their heads in.

Guess what else you can do with Peeps--you can make Peep shots. That's a chewed up Peep in some bourbon, which is actually rather disgusting, so I wouldn't necessarily recommend that one.

You know what I would recommend? Peep Wars. I'll let this website do the explaining.
I found this bit of wonderfulness while I was at work one night. I of course shared it with my co-workers, so the next time I saw one of my work friends, she said to me, "Thanks, Leah. My microwave is ruined. It was SO worth it, though. Peep Wars are awesome."

Prosciutto and Grilled Asparagus with Whole Grain Mustard

• 1 1/4 pounds asparagus
• 2 tablespoons extra virgin olive oil
• 3 tablespoons whole grain mustard
• 1/2 cup creme fraiche
• 5 thin slices prosciutto de Parma or San Daniele
• 1/2 a lemon, for juicing
• Kosher salt and freshly ground black pepper

Light the grill 10 minutes before you're ready to cook if you have a gas grill, and 30 to 40 minutes before you're ready to cook if you have a charcoal grill.

Snap the ends off the asparagus to remove the tough woody portions. Toss the asparagus on a baking sheet with the olive oil, 1/2 teaspoon salt, and some pepper. Stir the mustard and creme fraiche together in a small bowl and set aside.

When the grill is ready, drape the prosciutto over a platter. Grill the asparagus 2 to 3 minutes until slightly charred and tender. Arrange the asparagus on the prosciutto and drizzle the mustard creme fraiche over the top.

Leg of Lamb with Chorizo Stuffing, Romesco Potatoes, and Black Olives

• One 2 1/2 pound boneless leg of lamb, butterflied
• 6 cloves garlic, smashed
• 1/4 cup rosemary leaves, chopped
• 1/4 cup chopped flat-leaf parsley, plus 1/4 cup whole parsley leaves
• 2 teaspoons freshly cracked black pepper
• Chorizo stuffing (recipe below)
• 1/2 sliced Kalamata olives
• 1/4 cup chopped mint leaves
• 1 teaspoon extra virgin olive oil
• 1/2 lemon, for juicing
• Romesco potatoes (recipe below)
• Kosher salt and freshly ground black pepper

Place the lamb in a baking dish and coat it well on all sides with the smashed garlic, rosemary, chopped parsley, and black pepper. Cover, and refrigerate overnight.

Take the lamb out of the refrigerator 30 minutes before stuffing it, to bring it to room temperature. Reserve the marinade.

Preheat the oven to 350 degrees.

Season the lamb on both sides with salt and a little freshly ground black pepper. Lay the meat on a cutting board, fat side down, and open like a book. Spoon as much of the chorizo stuffing as you can (about half, or a little more) on the right side of the lamb.

Fold the left side over the stuffing, as if you're closing the 'book.' If some of the stuffing falls out, stuff what you can back in. Tie the lamb with butcher's twine at 2-inch intervals to hold it together while roasting. Carefully place the lamb on a roasting rack set in a roasting pan. Drizzle the leftover marinade over the lamb. Put the remaining chorizo stuffing in a small baking dish and set aside.

Roast the lamb about 1 1/4 hours, until a meat thermometer inserted into the center of the meat, not the stuffing, reads 120. Remove the lamb from the oven and let it rest for about 15 minutes before slicing. While the lamb is resting, heat the rest of the stuffing in the oven until it's hot, about 10 minutes.

Toss the olives, mint, and parsley leaves with a drizzle of the olive oil and a squeeze of lemon. Taste for seasoning. Arrange the romesco potatoes on a large warm platter.

Slice the lamb into 1/4-inch thick slices, removing the butcher's twine as you go. Using a spatula and a spoon, arrange the meat over the potatoes. Scatter the herb salad over the top, and serve the extra stuffing and romesco on the side.

Chorizo Stuffing

• 2 cups fresh breadcrumbs
• 1/2 cup extra virgin olive oil
• 1 large sprig rosemary
• 1 chile de arbol, broken in half
• 2 cups finely diced onions
• 2 teaspoons minced garlic
• 2 teaspoon thyme leaves
• 3/4 pounds fresh Mexican chorizo, casings removed
• 3 tablespoons chopped flat-leaf parsley
• Kosher salt and freshly ground black pepper

Preheat the oven to 375 degrees.

Toss the breadcrumbs with 2 tablespoons olive oil. Spread them on a baking sheet and toast for 6 to 8 minutes, stirring once or twice, until they are golden brown.

Heat a medium pot over high heat for 1 minute. Add the remaining 6 tablespoons olive oil, the rosemary sprig, and the chile; let them sizzle in the oil for about 1 minute. Stir in the onions, garlic, and thyme, and season with salt and pepper. Turn the heat down and cook for about 10 minutes, until the onions are translucent. Transfer the mixture to a large bowl and discard the rosemary and chile.

While the onions are cooking, heat a medium sauté pan over high heat for 2 minutes. Crumble the chorizo into the pan, and sauté about 8 minutes, until the sausage is crisp and cooked through. Drain the chorizo of excess oil and add it to the bowl with the onions. Stir in the breadcrumbs and parsley, and combine well. Taste for seasoning.

Romesco Potatoes

• 1 1/2 pounds Yukon Gold potatoes
• 1/4 cup extra virgin olive oil
• 4 to 5 cloves of garlic, unpeeled
• 2 bay leaves, 6 sprigs thyme, plus 2 teaspoons thyme leaves
• 1 cup romesco
• 2 tablespoons chopped flat-leaf parsley
• Kosher salt and freshly ground black pepper

Preheat the oven to 400 degrees.

Place the potatoes in a roasting pan and toss well with 2 tablespoons olive oil, the garlic, bay leaves, thyme sprigs, and a heaping teaspoon of salt. Cover tightly with aluminum foil and roast the potatoes about 50 minutes, until tender when pierced (the time will really depend on size, age, and variety of potatoes).

When the potatoes have cooked, reserve the garlic, discard the bay and thyme, and crumble the potatoes into  chunky pieces with your hands. Squeeze the garlic out of its skin and set aside.

Heat a large sauté pan over high heat for a minute. Add the remaining 2 tablespoons olive oil, turn the heat to medium high, and allow the oil to get to the shimmering point. Add the crumbled potatoes, and season with thyme leaves, salt and pepper. To get the potatoes nicely brown and crisp, don't overcrowd them. You might have to use 2 pans or sear them in batches. Sauté the potatoes 6 to 8 minutes until they are crispy in one side. Don't try to move them if they are stuck to the pan--they will eventually release themselves.

After they've browned nicely on the first side, turn them to let them color on all sides. Once they're nicely browned on all sides, spoon the romesco and reserved garlic into the hot potatoes. Toss and stir to coat them well. Taste for seasoning and toss in the parsley.

Or, if you're not yet ready to serve the dish, turn off the heat and leave the potatoes in the pan; then, just before serving, reheat for a few minutes and toss in the parsley at the last moment.

Meyer Lemon Custard Cakes

(From Epicurious)

• 3/4 cup plus 2 tablespoons sugar, divided
• 1/4 cup all purpose flour
• Pinch of salt
• 1 1/3 cups whole milk
• 2 large eggs, separated
• 1/3 cup fresh Meyer lemon juice or regular lemon juice
• 2 tablespoons finely grated Meyer lemon peel or regular lemon peel

Preheat oven to 350°F. Butter eight 3/4-cup ramekins or custard cups. Whisk 1/2 cup plus 2 tablespoons sugar, flour, and pinch of salt in medium bowl to blend. Combine milk, egg yolks, lemon juice, and lemon peel in large bowl; whisk until blended.

Add flour mixture to yolk mixture and whisk custard until blended. Using electric mixer, beat egg whites in another large bowl until soft peaks form. Gradually add remaining 1/4 cup sugar to whites and beat until stiff but not dry. Fold 1/4 of whites into custard. Fold remaining whites into custard in 2 additions (custard will be slightly runny).

Divide custard equally among prepared ramekins. Place ramekins in large roasting pan lined with a dish towel. Pour enough hot water into pan to come halfway up sides of ramekins. Bake custard cakes until golden brown and set on top (custard cakes will be slightly soft in center), about 27 minutes. Chill custard cakes uncovered until cold, at least 4 hours, then cover and keep refrigerated.

Custard cakes can be made 1 day ahead. Keep chilled.

If you like, run a small knife around each custard cake to loosen and invert each cake onto a plate. I kind of liked them in the ramekins, though, so you can serve them as is if prefer.

Skirt Steak with Rosemary, Artichoke-Potato Hash, Black Olive Aioli, Cupcakes

I've been traumatized by mayonnaise. Suzanne, why did you tell me to make an aioli by hand? I'll never do such a foolish thing ever again.
This is me mixing. And mixing. And mixing.




I had been nervous about this undertaking to begin with, because I knew that if you try to make mayonnaise and add the oil more than a drop at a time, it will break and all that mixing will have been for naught.

So I made a little setup that would enable me to mix with one hand and drip with the other.



'What's that for?' Nick asked.
Duh.
It's an egg.
In a nest.
No, really, the egg is for the mayo, and the towels are for my no-bowl-spinning setup.

So I dripped, I mixed, I dripped, I mixed...it broke. Aaaaagh! My arm felt like it was going to fall off, and it was all for nothing. Better yet, Nick, who hates mayonnaise felt bad for my arms and helped me out. He felt sullied, and it was for no good reason.



We tried to fix the broken mayonnaise by adding more egg yolks, and it didn't work. Okay, we said, let's take a break from this and get started on those artichokes, because they're really confusing.

What do you mean there are no baby artichokes in the fridge? You're kidding, right? Oh, cool--the checkout person at the grocery store was so mightily confused by the fact that I brought my own bag that the artichokes ended up staying in the plastic bag that I asked not to use.

Okay, mayonnaise, I'm going to the store, and I'll deal with you later, buddy.
Okay, Nick, I'm back from the store with the expensive baby artichokes. What did you say? They're moldy? That totally rocks.

Sigh. While Nick dealt with the non-moldy artichokes of the bunch, I consulted Julia because I seemed to remember her having a lot to say about the making of mayonnaise.

She sure did, and it sure saved my butt.

She even made me feel better, in a way: "Mayonnaise done by hand or with an electric beater requires familiarity with egg yolks." Well, I'm apparently not familiar with the egg yolk, but she makes it sound like it's not the end of the world, although she does say that, "You should be able to make it by hand as part of your general mastery of the egg yolk." I'll just have to master you another day, you little golden orb.


She then goes on to tell us mere mortals how to make mayonnaise in a food processor. By the time I had a thick, creamy mayonnaise, my head hurt from the noise of the machine and my arm still felt like it was going to fall off due to all the slow pouring, but it was about a billion times easier than that hand-mixing junk, and I had produced a perfect mayonnaise.




The baby food processor was broken out and used to make a puree of garlic and olives, which was stirred into the now-perfect mayonnaise. Suzanne Goin tells you to make the olive garlic puree with a mortal and pestle, but I was not about to be tricked by her hand-made methods twice in one night.

You may be wondering why I went to so much trouble for a sauce that only I would be eating, as Nick hates it. That's a good question, really, and the answer is that it has been on my culinary to-do list, and Suzanne Goin makes it sound delicious: " Though mayonnaise might sound strange as an accompaniment for steak, the aioli melts into a creamy sauce, leaving behind a trail of olives." Great.

Why was it on my to-do list? Because everyone says that homemade mayonnaise is easy (pshhhhhh) and it's a million times better than Hellmann's. Therefore, I felt that, like a souffle, it's something that everyone who likes to cook should attempt at least once or twice.



So I mentioned that the mayo was a sauce for some steak. That steak was skirt steak, marinated with chiles de arbol, pepper, fresh rosemary, and fresh thyme.







Yukon Gold potatoes were tossed with salt, olive oil, garlic cloves and thyme, and were roasted in a covered pan until tender. When they were cool enough to handle, they were broken into pieces, and the roasted garlic cloves were slipped out of their skins.






In the meantime, the baby artichokes that Nick had so valiantly broken down were pan-seared. I mentioned that the artichokes confused us, which may seem silly to some people. However, we on the East Coast do not eat as many artichokes as West Coasters, and the two of us had never cooked with them before. When you've never dealt with these spiny little buggers, they're rather confusing--what do you cut off/out, what do you leave?




When the artichokes were golden, they were set aside and the potato chunks were seared. The roasted garlic was added, along with some shallots, the artichokes, some more thyme, salt, pepper, and parsley.



This 'hash' was plated with the steak that had been grilled and sliced against the grain, and the mayo was dotted on top of mine.


The mayonnaise was supposed to be thinned out so that it could be drizzled, but I felt that if I thinned out the mayo, I wouldn't be able to use it for anything else, and it would go to waste.




Because the mayonnaise was left a normal, non-aioli-like consistency, I was able to eat it on a roast chicken sandwich the next day, and it was delicious.


Again, the sauce added a perfect something to the dish in a somewhat unexpected way. That's part of why I wanted so badly to make this mayonnaise--I thought Suzanne Goin had something up her sleeve. The potatoes were delicious, and the steak was yummy.

As far as skirt steak, though, I think I prefer our normal preparation--for carne asada, we rub skirt steak with salt and a huge amount of garlic and grill it. We then eat it on tortillas with roasted poblanos and various other fixings. Skirt steak prepared that way is tender and juicy, and it lets the flavor of the steak shine through. This way was nice, but not really worth the extra effort.

I'll leave you with some pictures of St. Patrick's Day cupcake carnage.


The icing is from Cook's Country, which is published by the people who make Cook's Illustrated.
It's so simple that it's become our go-to 'Oops I forgot that I told people that I would make them cupcakes' recipe.

Start by creaming 3 sticks of room temperature butter until they're light and fluffy. Turn the mixer down to low and gradually add 3 cups of powdered sugar. Increase the mixer speed to high and beat until light and fluffy.




Turn the mixer down to medium-low and add a couple tablespoons of milk, a couple teaspoons of vanilla extract, and a pinch of salt. When incorporated, again increase the mixer speed to high and beat until the icing is light and fluffy. Add coloring if desired.


Don't do like I did and let the icing get too soft before piping it onto the cupcakes. That's how I ended up with those rivulets down the side.



Pretend you're not eating pure butter and sugar, and enjoy!

Skirt Steak with Rosemary, Artichoke-Potato Hash, and Black Olive Aioli

• 2 pounds skirt steak
• 3 chiles de arbol, thinly sliced
• 2 teaspoons cracked black pepper
• 1 tablespoon rosemary leaves
• 1 tablespoon thyme leaves, plus 4 thyme sprigs
• 1 1/4 pound Yukon Gold potatoes
• 1 1/4 cup to 1 1/3 cup extra-virgin olive oil
• 4 cloves garlic, unpeeled
• 1 bay leaf
• 12 baby artichokes
• 2/3 cup sliced shallots
• 2 tablespoons chopped flat-leaf parsley
• 1 bunch arugula, cleaned
• Black olive aioli (recipe below)
• Kosher salt and freshly ground black pepper

Trim the skirt steak of excess fat and sinew, if any. Season the skirt steak with the sliced chiles, cracked black pepper, rosemary, and thyme leaves. Cover and refrigerate at least 4 hours or overnight.

Preheat the oven to 400 degrees.
Toss the potatoes with 2 tablespoons olive oil, the garlic cloves, thyme sprigs, bay leaf, and 1 teaspoon salt. Place in a roasting pan and roast about 45 minutes, until tender when pierced. (Depending on the size, age, and variety of the potatoes, cooking time will vary.)

While the potatoes are roasting, prepare the artichokes. Cut off the top third of the artichokes, and remove the tough outer leaves, down to the pale yellow-green leaves. Using a paring knife, trim the bottom of the stem and the stalks. Cut each artichoke in half and remove the fuzzy choke if there is one. (If you clean the artichokes ahead of time, immerse them in a bowl of cold  water with the juice of one lemon added, to prevent them from turning brown. Be sure to drain and dry them well before cooking.)

Heat a large saute pan over high heat for a minute. Pour 1/4 cup olive oil into the pan, and wait until it shimmers. Add the artichokes, and season with 1 teaspoon thyme, 1 teaspoon salt, and a pinch of pepper. Turn the heat to medium, and saute about 10 minutes, tossing often, until the artichokes are golden brown.

When the potatoes have cooled, crumble them into chunky pieces. Squeeze the roasted garlic out of its skins and set aside.

Wipe out the artichoke pan and return it to the stove over high heat for about a minute. (To get the potatoes nice and brown and crisp, do not overcrowd them. You might need to use 2 pans.) Swirl in the remaining 1/4 cup olive oil and wait a minute.

Add the crumbled potatoes, and season with the remaining 2 teaspoons thyme, 1 teaspoon salt, and freshly ground black pepper. Cook until the potatoes are crispy on one side. (Don't try to move them or turn them if they are stuck to the pan; they will eventually release themselves, just be patient.) After about 8 minutes, when they're browned nicely on the first side, turn the potatoes in the oil, letting them color on all sides.

When the potatoes are golden brown, turn the heat down to medium and add the shallots, artichokes, and roasted garlic. Toss well, and sauté the hash together 6 to 8 minutes, until the artichokes are hot and the shallots are translucent. Toss in the chopped parsley just before serving.

An hour before serving, remove the steak from the fridge. Light the grill 30 to 40 minutes (for charcoal) and 10 to 15 minutes (for gas) before serving.

When the coals are broken down, red and glowing (or when the gas grill is hot), season the steak generously with salt, and brush it lightly with olive oil. Place the meat on the hottest part of the grill, to get a sear on the outside. Cook about 2 minutes, turn the meat a quarter turn, and cook another minute. Turn the meat over, and move it to a cooler spot on the grill. Cook another minute or two for medium-rare. Rest the steak on a wire rack set over a baking sheet for a few minutes.

Arrange the artichoke-potato hash on a large warm platter, and scatter the arugula leaves over the top. Slice the steak against the grain, and lay the slices over the potatoes and artichokes. Spoon some of the black olive aioli over the meat, and pass the rest at the table.

Black Olive Aioli

(Adapted from Mastering the Art of French Cooking)

• One large egg and two yolks
• 1/4 teaspoon dry mustard
• 1/2 teaspoon salt
• A tablespoon lemon juice or wine vinegar
• 2 cups of canola or olive oil
• 1/4 cup pitted black oil-cured olives
• Freshly ground black pepper

Process the egg and the yolk for 1 minute. With the machine running, add the mustard, salt, and 1 teaspoon of lemon juice or vinegar.

With the machine still running, start adding the oil in a stream of droplets, continuing until you have used half the oil and the sauce is very thick--do not stop processing until the sauce has thickened. Thin out with lemon juice or vinegar, then continue with the oil.

Stir in the olives and taste for more seasoning. Add more salt and lemon juice and vinegar, if necessary. Add pepper to taste.