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.

Ratatouille and Pan-Seared, Oven Roasted Pork Tenderloin with a Rosemary Vermouth Pan Sauce

I love ratatouille. I was making it even before that cute movie with the rat waltzed this dish into the spotlight. Did you know that Thomas Keller consulted on that movie, and he came up with the recipe on which the rat's ratatouille was based? That's why it looked so awesome. After seeing that movie, I wanted to make some of this Frenchy stew immediately. And I would have, except that it was January and this, to me, is summer food.

I therefore usually make ratatouille at least once every summer, and I had been meaning to make it for a few weeks now. I even bought a cute little eggplant at the farm stand thinking that it might end up in some ratatouille. Instead, it lingered on the counter and turned to mush. I suck.

Then I came across this article in the Guardian's blog. In it, Felicity Cloake eloquently and amusingly expounds on ratatouille in all its various permutations. And I was inspired...So here you go:

Ratatouille

• 4 tablespoons olive oil, divided
• 1 large onion, diced
• 1 red bell pepper, diced
• 1 green bell pepper, diced
• 5 cloves garlic, thinly sliced
• Salt
• 1/4 cup dry white wine
• 1/4 teaspoon red pepper flakes
• 2 medium eggplant, cut into 1/2 inch dice
• 3-4 zucchini
• 28 ounce can whole tomatoes*
• 1 bay leaf
• 2 teaspoons chopped fresh thyme
• 1/4 thinly sliced fresh basil
• 1 1/2 tablespoons chopped fresh parsley

Heat 1 tablespoon olive oil in a large dutch oven, and sauté the onion, peppers, garlic, and 1/4 teaspoon salt until the vegetables are soft (about 10 minutes). Add white wine, and increase heat to high. Simmer until the white wine is almost completely evaporated, about 4 minutes, and stir in the red pepper flakes. Turn heat off.

Meanwhile, heat another 2 tablespoons olive oil in a large skillet, add the eggplant, sprinkle with salt, and sauté until the eggplant is tender and a little bit seared. You only want to cook it about half way, which will take about 7 minutes. When the eggplant is sufficiently softened, add it to the onion pepper mixture in the dutch oven.

While the eggplant is cooking, cut the zucchini in half lengthwise. Cut each half in half lengthwise again, so that you have 4 long pieces. Cut these pieces across in 1/4 inch segments so that you are left with little quarter-moon pieces. Open the can of tomatoes and leave them in the can. Using kitchen shears, cut the tomatoes into smaller pieces.

Heat the remaining olive oil in a large skillet and sauté the zucchini until the pieces are a little bit brown, and the soft centers are just becoming a bit translucent. Again, you only want them about half-way cooked.

Add the tomatoes and bring to a simmer. Add this mixture to the dutch oven and add the bay leaf and thyme.

Gently simmer the contents of the dutch oven until the flavors are melded and the vegetables are tender but not mushy, about 40 minutes to an hour. Stir in the basil and parsley, and season to taste with pepper, and more salt if necessary.

*I know that it probably seems wacky to use canned tomatoes in the height of summer, but I find that fresh tomatoes tend to have a flavor that is too lacking in assertiveness for this dish. Plus, canned tomatoes are more economical for me right now, as my tomato plants turned out to be super sad specimens this year.
If I did make this with fresh tomatoes, however, I would consider roasting them first.

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I love ratatouille with pork, and there just happened to be a lovely pork tenderloin in the freezer. Rather than simply brushing it with salt, pepper, and oil and grilling this tenderloin (which is yummy), we decided to go oldschool.

The rosemary in the pork's sauce was a perfect counterpoint to the basil and thyme in the ratatouille. We had some pork tenderloin, some ratatouille, and some garlic mashed potatoes, and we were in Happy Fat Land.

We used to make this recipe all the time, and we sort of OD'd on it. It seemed, though, that it was time to brush the dust off of its sheltering folder. And wow. This tenderloin is easy, delicious, and healthy. Why had we neglected it for so long?

Pan-Seared, Oven Roasted Pork Tenderloin with a Rosemary Vermouth Pan Sauce

• 1 pork tenderloin
• Kosher salt and freshly ground black pepper
• 1 tablespoon butter
• 1 1/2 tablespoons brown sugar
• 1/2 cup thinly sliced shallots
• 1/4 cup vermouth
• 2 cups chicken stock
• 1-2 teaspoons chopped fresh rosemary

Preheat the oven to 400 degrees.
Coat the tenderloin with salt and pepper, and in a large skillet, heat 1-2 tablespoons canola oil over high heat. When the oil is shimmering, sear the tenderloin on all sides until it is golden brown (about 4 minutes per side).

Place the tenderloin on a foil-lined baking sheet and cook in the center of the oven until the internal temperature reads 135 degrees. Remove the tenderloin and allow it to rest.

In the meantime, melt the butter in the same skillet that was used to sear the tenderloin. Add the brown sugar, 2 tablespoons of water, and the shallots. Over medium heat, cook the shallots until soft, about 15 minutes.

Increase the heat to high and add the vermouth. If there are any brown bits remaining on the bottom of the pan, scrape them up with a wooden spoon or silicone spatula. When the vermouth has almost completely evaporated, add the chicken stock and a teaspoon of the rosemary.

Over high heat, simmer the stock until it has been reduced to a thick sauce. Taste for seasoning and add salt and pepper, and the rest of the rosemary if desired. (In the winter, we like to use all of the rosemary, but in the summer we prefer a more mild rosemary flavor.)

Tomato Tart

A tomato tart had been on the extended to-do list for quite a while now. It's a common dish in both French and Italian cuisine, and it's great as an appetizer, a snack, part of a light dinner, or as a side.

We had been little piggies all week, so we decided that we needed a light, summery dinner. Our old stand-by Golden Corn Chowder, paired with a tomato tart, fit the bill perfectly. Plus, like I mentioned before, I like to OD on highly seasonal ingredients, and I figured this would help.

We used a very mild goat cheese, but you could use any cheese that melts well, such as comte, haloumi, or even mozzarella.

Tomato Tart

Crust

• 2 tablespoons almonds with skins, toasted and cooled
• 3/4 cup all-purpose flour
• Pinch of fine sea salt
• 1/2 stick cold unsalted butter, cut into 1/2-inch cubes
• 1 large egg yolk
• 3 1/2 tablespoons fruity olive oil (preferably French)
• About a tablespoon Dijon mustard (optional)

Filling

• 4 ripe tomatoes, sliced about 1/4 inch thick
• 1 1/2 tablespoons freshly chopped herbs (We used summer savory, thyme, and oregano. You could also use marjoram, tarragon, basil, or anything else you feel like throwing in there.)
• 3 ounces mild goat cheese
• 1 tablespoon olive oil
• Salt
• Freshly ground black pepper

Preheat oven to 425°F with rack in middle.

Pulse almonds with flour, sugar, and sea salt to a fine powder in a food processor. Add butter and pulse until mixture resembles coarse meal with some small (roughly pea-size) butter lumps.

Add yolk and oil and pulse until just incorporated and a very soft dough has formed. Form into a disk, wrap in plastic wrap, and chill until firm, about 30 minutes.

Spread dough evenly over bottom and up side of pan.
Bake shell until golden brown all over, about 13 minutes. Transfer to a rack to cool a bit.

When the tart has cooled enough that it's not very hot to the touch, arrange the tomatoes in a spiral. (Optional: first brush the crust with a thin coating of Dijon mustard.) Sprinkle half of the fresh herbs over the tomatoes, and spread chunks of the goat cheese around as well. Sprinkle the rest of the herbs over the tart, and season with salt and pepper.

Drizzle with olive oil, and bake in the center of the oven for about 40 minutes, until the tart dough is golden brown, the tomatoes are tender, and the cheese is browned.

Optional-drizzle with balsamic vinegar to serve.

This tart is good served either warm or at room temperature, but it's best the day it's made.

Gamberi Fra Diavolo

After some research and debate, Gamberi Fra Diavolo, or Shrimp of the Devil Priest, seemed like the perfect dinner for a Tuesday night. This is Nick's perennial favorite at our favorite Italian restaurant, La Scala. In the days of yore, the dish used to be made so spicy that Nick would break out into a sweat. He'd say, "I'm sorry, but I can't talk to you for a couple minutes because I have to eat this before the heat catches up with me."

Unfortunately, the Gamberi Fra Diavolo has not recently been very spicy. In fact, it's been remarkably lacking in fierceness. Therefore, Nick was quite excited by the prospect of adding 4 jalapenos and a tablespoon of red pepper flakes to 2 cups of tomato sauce.

What he wasn't too excited about was picking and chopping three tablespoons of thyme leaves. You'll note that the recipe below does not include 3 tablespoons of thyme leaves. Have you ever tried to pick three tablespoons of fresh thyme?

It incited an expletive-filled rant from Nick: "What kind of m......f.......ing b.... a.. came up with this s...? Probably some a..hole with a prep cook and s..." I felt his pain, which is why we lessened the amount of herbs in general, and substituted some fresh oregano. Thank you, herb garden. 

We ended up using only 3 of the jalapenos, as Nick started coughing while cutting them up and saying to himself, "Wash your hands. Wash your hands. Wash your hands." We've all been there--you cut some peppers, forget to wash your hands, touch some mucous membranes or some sensitive skin...
Well, the coughing led to a taste test, which confirmed that the jalapenos were indeed abnormally hot. As we were cooking for company, we not only cut back on the jalapenos, but the red pepper flakes as well. You don't want to serve your friends something they can't eat, right?

Next time, though, we're going to go all-out. But the point is that if you make this recipe, you should taste your peppers, and adjust the spiciness according to your heat tolerance. We could have handled more fieriness, but there was still enough tastebud intensity to get the endorphins flowing. And, funnily enough, we all suddenly hit a point at which our noses started running copiously. Yummy, right? That's how a box of tissues became the new centerpiece. Luckily, it was a pretty box of tissues.

The meal was quite lovely with a cheese plate, some zucchini fritters, baguettes, and some sparkling Shiraz. And like our friend said, we may as well enjoy some succulent, tasty shrimp while we still can.

Shrimp Fra Diavolo

• 1 lb high-quality dried pasta, such as Barilla, the shape of your choice
• 2 tablespoon extra virgin olive oil
• 6 cloves garlic, thinly sliced
• 4 jalapenos, seeded and sliced into 1/8 inch thick rounds
• 1tablespoon red pepper flakes
• 2 cups tomato sauce (recipe below)
• 1 cup dry white wine
• 1 lb peeled shrimp
• 1 tablespoon chopped fresh flat leaf parsley  

Bring salted water to a boil and cook pasta until a dente, according to package instructions.


Meanwhile, in a saute pan, heat 2 TBSP olive oil over medium heat. Add the garlic and jalapenos and cook until softened, about 3 minutes.

Add the red pepper flakes, tomato sauce and wine and bring to a boil. Lower the heat and simmer for 4 minutes.

Lay the shrimp in the sauce and simmer until just cooked through, 4 to 6 minutes.Drain the pasta and plate topped with sauce and shrimp, garnish with chopped parsley.

Tomato Sauce

• 1/4 cup extra-virgin olive oil
• 1 onion, cut into a 1/4 inch dice
• 6 cloves of garlic, thinly sliced
• 1 tablespoon chopped fresh thyme
• 1 tablespoon chopped fresh oregano
• 1/2 medium carrot, finely shredded
• Two 28-ounce cans whole tomatoes
• 1/4 teaspoon red pepper flakes
• Salt and freshly ground black pepper to taste

In a large sauce pan, heat the olive oil over medium heat. Add the onion and garlic and cook until soft and light golden brown, 8 to 10 minutes. Add the herbs and carrot and cook until the carrot is soft, about 5 minutes.

Add the tomatoes with their juice and the red pepper flakes, and bring to a boil, stirring often. Lower the hear and simmer until thick, periodically breaking up the whole tomatoes with a wooden spoon. This will take at least 1/2 an hour, but the sauce can be cooked much longer if you like.

Season to taste with salt and pepper.

  

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.