Prawns or Shrimp with Tomato Confit, Garlic, and Chile

Run, don't walk, to the nearest farm stand or farmer's market, and get some of the last of those yellow tomatoes. You'll want to make this recipe, because believe me, it's worth it. This recipe was a revelation, in that I had never before made a serious attempt to confit something. The idea of cooking anything in large amounts of oil was scary to me, but I shouldn't have been scared. In this case, at least, you don't really end up eating all that much oil, and even if you do, it's a good fat, right?

The tomato confit, with its infusion of herbs and aromatics, tastes like summer, but not in the typical tomato-and-basil way that you're almost sick of by the end of the summer. The confit seems creamy, there's no cream;.it also tastes a bit buttery, but there is no butter in this dish. It's just magic. And then the shrimp...Oh, the delectable, garlicy shrimp.

This recipe takes a bit of time prep-wise just because of the amount of chopping, but overall, it's not especially difficult or time-consuming. But you can tell your friends that it took a really long time to make, and they'll believe you; it's one of those recipes.

With big hunks of crusty bread (I was too lazy to make it, but Jim Lahey's bread would be perfect) , this made one of the best meals I've had in a while, and if you're looking for something a little heartier, Suzanne Goin says that these shrimp are also delicious with pasta or steamed rice.

Oh, and about the 'shrimp': California Spot Prawns are apparently awesome, and this recipe was designed with them in mind. But if you're not lucky enough to live on the west coast, plain old shrimp will work just fine.

Prawns or Shrimp with Tomato Confit, Garlic, and Chile

(From Sunday Suppers at Lucques)

Serves 6

• 24 large spot prawns (about 4 1/2 pounds)
• 3/4 cup extra-virgin olive oil
• 1 1/2 cup sliced shallots
• 1 tablespoon thyme leaves
• 1 tablespoon thinly sliced chile de arbol
• 1/2 cup sliced garlic
• 1 1/2 pints cherry tomatoes, cut in half
• Yellow tomato confit (recipe below)
• 1/4 cup sliced flat-leaf parsley
• 1 tablespoon chopped oregano
• 2 tablespoons sliced green basil
• 2 tablespoons sliced opal basil
• 1 lemon, for juicing

Use kitchen scissors to cut the shells of the spot prawns down their backs, from the base of their heads to the tip of their tails. (Suzanne Goin directs you to not remove the shells. I think, though, that if you really want to, you can go ahead. The sauce might just be a bit less flavorful.) If the prawns are wet, dry them with paper towels.


Heat 2 heavy-bottomed sauté pans over high heat for a couple minutes. Swirl 2 tablespoons olive oil into each pan, and carefully place the prawns in the pans, on their sides. (You might need to cook the prawns in batches to avoid overcooking them.)


Season each batch of prawns with 1/2 teaspoon salt and some pepper. Cook about 5 minutes, until the shells get some color, and the flesh begins to turn opaque on the first side.


Turn the prawns over, drizzle another 2 tablespoons oil into each pan, and season the second side of each batch with 1/2 teaspoon salt and some pepper. Cook another 3 minutes or so, until the prawns are just cooked.


Remove the prawns to a platter, and turn the heat under both pans down to medium-low. Divide the shallots, thyme, and sliced chiles between the two pans. Season with 1/2 teaspoon salt and some pepper. Cook 2 minutes, until the shallots are translucent, scraping the pan with a wooden spoon to release all the flavorful shrimp bits. Divide the garlic between the pans, and cook 3 to 4 minutes, stirring often, until the shallots and garlic are soft and just starting to color.


Turn the heat back up to high, and add half the cherry tomatoes, 1/2 teaspoon salt, and lots of freshly ground black pepper to each pan. Taste for seasoning and cook for a few minutes, stirring often.


Spoon the hot yellow tomato confit onto a large warm platter, or spoon a portion into each person's plate or bowl.


When the cherry tomatoes are tender and breaking down, add half the prawns, sliced parsley, oregano, and the two basils to each pan, and roll the prawns in the cherry tomatoes to coat well.


Arrange the prawns on the platter, or divide them amongst the individual bowls or plates, and squeeze a generous amount of lemon juice over them. Spoon the remaining cherry tomato sauce over the top. Serve with lots of crusty bread for sopping up the sauces and juices. The prawns would also be great with steamed rice or over pasta.

Yellow Tomato Confit

• 1/2 cup sliced red onion
• 2 dried chiles de arbol, broken in half with your hands (then wash your hands!)
• 1 tablespoon sliced garlic
• 2 sprigs basil
• 2 sprigs oregano
• 1 1/2 pounds yellow tomatoes
• 1 cup extra-virgin olive oil
• Kosher salt and freshly ground black pepper

Preheat the oven to 400 degrees.
Scatter the red onion, chiles, garlic, and basil and oregano sprigs in a baking dish. The baking dish should be small enough to fit the tomatoes snugly, as Suzanne says that if there is too much room in the pan, the sauce will be thin and lose some of its intensity. I found that a bread-baking pan (made of Pyrex) was perfect.


Core the yellow tomatoes and place them, stem side down, on top of the onions. Sprinkle with 2 teaspoons salt, and pour the olive oil and 1 cup water over the tomatoes. Cook the onions in the oven about 50 minutes, until they soften and blister.


Remove the pan from the oven, and cool 10 minutes. Strain the tomatoes and onions over a bowl, saving the juice. Discard the herbs and half the chiles.


Transfer half the tomato mixture to a blender with 1/2 cup of the liquid. (You'll need to do this in batches.) Process at the lowest speed until the tomatoes are purees. Pour in more liquid, a little at a time, until the tomato confit is the consistency of heavy cream. Turn the speed up, and blend about a minute, until completely smooth. Transfer to a container, and repeat with the second half of the tomatoes. (You may not need all of the liquid.) Alternatively, you can do this all in one batch with a stick/immersion blender.


Season with 1/2 teaspoon salt and some pepper. Taste for seasoning.

Summer Squash Gratin, Grilled Pork Chops

I love Susanne Goin. I mean, not really, because I don't actually know her, but I love her cookbook. I most especially love the way she can take a dish that you've made before, like chicken piccata or a summer squash gratin, and approach it from a way that a humble home cook like me may not have considered.

For example, I've made summer squash gratins before, and even have a recipe for a yummy one on this site. The one that I feature here is delicious, and I've made similar ones, as well. But that means that my little brain has come to think of this type of gratin in a certain way.

And then along comes Susanne, and she tells me to put brown butter instead of olive oil in the gratin. And she tells me to mix the breadcrumbs in with the squash, as opposed to using them as a topping. And the shallots! We love shallots.

The only thing I didn't like about this recipe was the salsa verde. I'm sure that some people may consider this blasphemous, but neither of us are fans. I don't like the raw mintiness, and Nick doesn't like the anchovy-ness. We did make it, though, and we did give it a chance. We were just thankful, in the end, that we hadn't mixed the salsa verde in with all of our individual gratins.

If you're in the pro-salsa verde camp, though, feel free to mix in a half cup of the stuff when you mix in the cheese. We ate this with grilled, brined, thick-cut bone-in pork chops, and it was a delicious summer dinner.

As for the brining pork chop thing--if you've never tried it, you really really should. Mixing up a brine takes almost no time at all, and you can throw your brining meat into the fridge while you prep the rest of your dinner. Brining pork chops (or chicken) for even 45 minutes results in super-flavorful, super-moist meat. You'll never go back.

 Summer Squash Gratin

• 2 pounds summer squash
• 1 1/2 cups fresh breadcrumbs
• 3 tablespoons butter
• 3/4 cup sliced shallots
• 1 teaspoon minced garlic
• 1 tablespoon thyme leaves
• 1 cup grated Gruyere cheese
• Kosher salt and freshly ground black pepper

Preheat the oven to 400 degrees.

Cut the squash into 1/8 inch-thick slices. Toss the slices in a large bowl with 1 teaspoon kosher salt, and let sit 10 minutes.

Place the breadcrumbs in a bowl.

Heat a small saute pan over medium heat for 1 minute. Swirl in the butter and cook for a few minutes, until it browns and smells nutty. Pour the brown butter over the breadcrumbs (being sure to scrape all the brown bits into a bowl with a rubber spatula). Wait a minute or two for the butter to cool, and toss well.

Drain the squash and transfer it to a large mixing bowl. Add the shallots, minced garlic, thyme, and some pepper. Toss to combine, and add the cheese (and salsa verde if you're using it) and half of the breadcrumbs. Toss again, and taste for seasoning. (The raw garlic will taste strong at this point, but it will mellow as it cooks.)

Place the squash in an attractive 9-by-9 inch gratin dish, or divide it amongst some individual gratin dishes. Scatter the remaining breadcrumbs over the top, and bake 35 to 40 minutes, until the squash is tender and the top is crisp.

 

Grilled Pork Chops

• 3/4 to 1 inch thick bone-in pork chops, one per person
• Kosher salt
• Canola oil
• Freshly ground black pepper

Cook's Illustrated has a more sophisticated brining formula, which you can check out here. I however, find that it is sufficient to use 1/4 cup Kosher salt per quart of water. Mix the salt with cold water until it is mostly dissolved. Make enough to cover whatever your brining. Place the meat into the brine, and put the whole thing into the fridge for at least 45 minutes and up to 3 hours for chicken and 5 hours for pork. (I don't really recommend brining pork tenderloin, but some people like to.)

When you're 15 minutes away from being ready to cook the meat, preheat your grill. Clean off the grate after about 7 minutes. (This is for a gas grill. Sorry charcoal peeps.)

Thoroughly dry the chops and brush them with canola oil. Season with freshly ground pepper--we like a pretty heavy covering. 

Over medium-high to high heat, cook the pork chops for about 4 minutes per side. This will result in pork chops that are medium to medium-well, so adjust the cooking times according to your taste.

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.

Sauteed Halibut with Arugula, Roasted Beets, and Horseradish Creme Fraiche

Sprouts!


I can't wait till these little guys are strikingly tall zinnias burgeoning with big fluffy, bright flowers.

Like this:

These guys will be tasty and convenient herbs.


A lot of the 10X10 recipes call for small amounts of herbs that I don't use in great quantities. I therefore figured that it would be nice to grow herbs like sorrel, marjoram, and epazote, especially because these herbs often can't be found in the store. It's just not so fun to pick a recipe that depends on sorrel, finding that the store doesn't have it, and having to pick something else. Or, finding that they do have it, using a tiny bit, and letting the rest go to waste. I figure that purchases like that add up to the massive percentage of my paycheck that goes to food, so I'd rather spend $1.50 on the seeds one time, and never have to worry about buying the herb.

If you know me well, you know that I have had an on-going battle with squirrels for the past 15 years. It would take about 2,000 words to adequately describe the scope of these issues, but I will tell you that one year, a squirrel decided to bite all the heads off my little baby basil sprouts. It didn't eat the whole plant, just the heads, so I was left with all the sad little stalks valiantly but vainly poking their bodies out of the soil. When the squirrel dug up the lily bulbs and ate the tender tasty centers I found it annoying but somewhat understandable. But only the heads? Really? That's just perverse.

Or how about the time I tried those little mesh seed-thingies that you start inside and plant outside? That year, the squirrels dug them up, shredded them, and threw them all over the porch. They didn't eat those, either. That was just to mess with me. I could go on and on here, but I'll spare you. I won't mention the time they ate the Christmas lights, or the time I came home to find one in my bedroom...

Basically, that's why the sprouts have a squirrel guard. This squirrel is here to say that these sprouts are his, and the rest of you squirrels better back off.

The onion wanted to get in on the sprouting action, too.

All this springtime feeling got me wanting something light for dinner, and I'm a little obsessed with Sunday Suppers at Lucques right now, so I picked Suzanne Goin's recipe for sauteed halibut with arugula, roasted beets, and horseradish creme fraiche.

It started with coating a piece of halibut with lemon zest, thyme, and parsley.

That is one pretty fish fillet.
How did I zest a lemon when Thomas Keller stole my zester, you ask?
I used my spiffy new microplane zester! It has a handle. Oooohh.

So beets were roasted and sliced into wedges. They were then tossed with a dressing made from diced shallots, balsamic vinegar, red wine vinegar, olive oil, salt, and pepper.

The beets were plated on a bed of arugula and spring green mix. It was supposed to be straight baby arugula, but Whole Foods didn't have it, so the mix just had to do.

The fish was then burned in a skillet. Suzanne Goin tells you to put the skillet on high heat for two minutes, swirl in olive oil, and let it sit for another minute. Why I followed this direction, or the one that instructed me to make mayonnaise by hand, I do not know. This resulted in a very very charred exterior that tasted of Teflon rather than crispy fishy deliciousness.

It also meant that while the exterior was charred, the interior was raw. Had this been tuna, that would have been just fine. It wasn't tuna, though, and I became rather flustered, which resulted in very overcooked fish. I've really never been able to pan-sear fish. I can bake it, grill it, and poach it, but pan searing? Not so much.

I'll just add it to the List of Things Leah Can't Cook. That illustrious list includes duck in any form, pate choux (if I hear one more person say it's soooo easy, my head is going to explode), and souffles.

The halibut was plated and the whole dish was drizzled with a sauce made from creme fraiche, horseradish, lemon, salt and pepper.

Try to pretend that the fish isn't blackened, and it doesn't look like some sort of humpbacked whale beached on sands of lettuce and beets. Also, pretend that the plating and lighting don't suck. Thank you.

It tasted delicious, though. I already knew that I liked cream and beets together, and it turns out that horseradish is also delicious with beets. The meal wasn't overly heavy, but it was satisfying because of the sugary, earthy, starchy beets, and it was just right for very early spring. The pepperiness of the horseradish and arugula was nicely paired with the mildness of the fish and creme fraiche. Next time, though, I'll probably cut the beets into smaller shapes, and I'll try my best not to demolish the halibut fillet.

Sautéed Halibut with Arugula, Roasted Beets, and Horseradish Creme Fraiche

• 6 halibut fillets
• 1 lemon, zested
• 1 tablespoon thyme leaves
• 2 tablespoons coarsley chopped flat-leaf parsley
• 2 tablespoons extra virgin olive oil
• 4 ounces arugula, cleaned
• Roasted Beets with Horseradish Creme Fraiche (recipe below)
• 2 tablespoons olive oil, for drizzling
• Kosher salt and freshly grouns black pepper

Season the fish with the lemon zest, thyme, and parsley. Cover and refrigerate at least 4 hours or overnight. Remove the fish from the refrigerator 15 minutes before cooking, to bring it to room temperature.


Heat a large sauté pan over high heat for 1 minute. Season the fish on both sides with salt and pepper. Swirl the olive oil into the pan, and when it's shimmering, carefully lay the fish in the pan and press on them a little bit. Cook for 3 to 4 minutes, until the fillets are nicely browned. Turn the fish over, turn the heat to medium-low, and cook a few more minutes, until it's almost cooked through. 


Be careful not to overcook the fish. When it's done, the fish will begin to flake and separate a little, and the center will be slightly translucent. Scatter half of the arugula over a large platter. Arrange the beets on top, and drizzle with half the horseradish cream.


Tuck the rest of the arugula among the beets, so you can see the beets peeking through. Nestle the fish in the salad, and spoon a little horseradish cream over each piece. Drizzle the whole dish with olive oil and a big squeeze of lemon.

Roasted Beets with Horseradish Creme Fraiche

• 4 smallish bunches different-colored beets
• 1/2 cup plus 2 tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil
• 1 tablespoon diced shallot, plus 1/4 cup sliced shallots
• 1 tablespoon plus 1 teaspoon balsamic vinegar
• 2 tablespoons red wine vinegar
• 2 1/2 teaspoons lemon juice
• 1/2 cup creme fraiche
• 1 tablespoon prepared horseradish
• 1/4 cup heavy cream
• Kosher salt and freshly ground black pepper

Preheat the oven to 400 degrees.


Cut off the beet greens, leaving 1/2 inch of the stems still attached. Clean the beets well, and peel with a vegetable peeler. Toss with 2 tablespoons olive oil and a teaspoon of salt.


Place the beets in a roasting pan with a splash of water in to bottom. Cover the pan tightly with foil, and roast for about 40 minutes, until they're tender when pierced. The roasting time will depend on the size and type of beet. When the beets are done, care fully remove the foil and allow them to cool. Cut the beets into 1/2-inch thick wedges.


While the beets are in the oven, combine the disced shallot, both vinegars, a teaspoon lemon juice, and 1/4 teaspoon salt in a small bowl, and let sit 5 minutes. Whisk in the 1/2 cup olive oil. Taste for balance and seasoning.


Whisk the creme fraiche and horseradish together in a small bowl. Stir in the heavy cream, remaining 1/2 teaspoon lemon juice, 1/8 teaspoon salt, and a pinch of pepper. Toss the beets and sliced shallots with the vinaigrette. (If you're using different-colored beets, dress them separately so that they don't discolor each other.) Season with 1/4 teaspoon salt and a pinch of freshly ground black pepper and toss well. Taste for balance and seasoning.






Here's a meal that I didn't mess up too badly (the rice was a tiny bit underdone, but it wasn't too noticeable):

This is one of Nick's favorite dishes, and it's in our regular rotation. It's relatively economical, and it's easy although it is a bit time-consuming. However, most of that time is not active time. It's spicy and satisfying, somewhat healthy, and the leftovers are delicious. We highly recommend that you try this meal.

Chicken and Brown Rice With Chorizo

• 2 1⁄2 lbs. bone-in skinless chicken thighs
• Kosher salt and freshly ground black pepper to taste
• 2 tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil
• 3⁄4 lb. smoked, dried chorizo, cut into 1"-thick slices
• 2 tablespoons roughly chopped fresh oregano
• 1⁄2 tsp. crushed red pepper flakes
• 4 cloves garlic, crushed
• 1 large yellow onion, thinly sliced
• 1 bay leaf
• 1 1⁄2 cups long-grain brown rice, rinsed
• 1⁄2 cup white wine
• 3 roasted red peppers, peeled, seeded, and cut into thick strips
• 3 cups chicken broth
• 1 cup frozen peas

Heat oven to 400°. Season the chicken lightly with salt and pepper. Heat the olive oil in a 4-quart dutch oven over medium-high heat. Working in batches, add the chicken and cook, without turning, until it's a deep golden brown, about 8 minutes.
Transfer the chicken to a plate and set aside. (Pour off and discard any accumulated fat and juices.) Add the chorizo and cook, stirring frequently, until lightly browned, about 5 minutes. Using a slotted spoon, transfer chorizo to a plate, leaving the fat behind in the dutch oven. Set chorizo aside.


Add oregano, red pepper, garlic, onion, and bay leaf to the dutch oven and cook, stirring occasionally, until onion is lightly browned and somewhat soft, about 8 minutes. Add rice and cook, stirring frequently, until surface is glossy, about 2 minutes.


Add wine, bring to a boil while stirring often, and reduce by half, about 1 minute. Nestle chicken, chorizo, and half of the peppers into rice mixture. Pour in broth and season liquid to taste with salt and pepper. Cover the dutch oven and bring to a boil over high heat. Transfer to the oven and bake until rice is tender and chicken is cooked through, about 1 hour and 10 minutes.


Remove the dish from oven, uncover, and gently stir in the peas and the remainder of the peppers with a fork. Let sit for 10 minutes, covered, to allow the flavors to meld.

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.