Spinach Feta Fritters

As you may know, I have a well-documented fritter problem. If it's a vegetable and I like it, I'll probably try to turn it in to a fritter. Therefore, one of my all-time favorite flavor combinations--spinach, feta, pine nuts, and tomato--was just begging to be turned into patty form. Here's the result; I hope you like it.

Spinach Feta Fritters

• 2 bunches fresh spinach (a little less than 2 lbs)
• 2 eggs
• rounded 1/4 cup feta cheese
• 1/2 cup tomato sauce
• Juice of 1/4 lemon
• 1/4 cup pine nuts
• 1/2 cup flour
• 1 teaspoon Kosher salt, plus more to taste
• Freshly ground black pepper
• 2-3 tablespoons canola oil

Set a very large pot of water on the stove to boil. In the meantime, fill a large bowl with water. Cut the stems off the spinach bunches, and place the leaves in the bowl of water. Swish them around until all the dirt is removed, and place the leaves in a colander.

While you'res still waiting for the water to boil, toast the pine nuts in a toaster oven or a 350 degree oven. When the water boils, add the spinach and cook until tender but still bright green, about 2 minutes. Remove the spinach to the colander. There's really no need for an ice bath.

When the spinach has cooled, squeeze the water out of it. Don't drive yourself crazy, though--it doesn't have to be completely dry. Chop the spinach as fine as you can, again without driving yourself crazy.

In a large bowl, combine the eggs, feta, tomato sauce, lemon juice, pine nuts, flour, salt, pepper, and spinach, and mix well. In a large non-stick skillet, heat 1 tablespoon oil until shimmering. Add enough spinach mixture to the pan to make a patty that's about 3 inches in diameter.

Cook until the top starts to look a little firm, and the bottom edges look a little dried out. Flip--the top should be nicely browned. Cook the other side until golden brown, just a little longer (the second side will cook faster than the first).

Taste this fritter and adjust for seasoning--add more salt, pepper, and lemon juice as necessary. Also, if the batter is too thin, add a little bit of flour. Once the seasoning is correct, cook the rest of the batter in the same manner, adding more oil to the pan as necessary.

Malfatti: Ricotta and Swiss Chard Dumplings

Do you ever read a cookbook, food blog, or food magazine, and a recipe just reaches out, smacks you, and screams, "You must make me!"? That's what happened to me with this recipe. I don't know why, but when I saw it in this month's Saveur, I instantly decided that I had to try it. And because these little dumplings are basically like ricotta gnocchi, I was finally motivated to make homemade ricotta the way I'd been planning to do for approximately 5 months. 

You can make a whole meal out of these little dumplings, or you can serve them as a side. As an added benefit, they freeze well, and you don't even have to defrost them--just throw them in a pot of boiling water the same way you would with the unfrozen dumplings.

The original recipe called for sage leaves to be gently cooked in some butter along with the boiled dumplings. I tried this and wasn't crazy about it, but I left the sage leaves in the pictures because they looked pretty. You can certainly try adding some sage leaves to the butter as the dumplings cook; if you try it, let me know how you like it. I was kind of thinking that rosemary might work well, and I was also thinking that olive oil rather than butter might be nice. But whether you use herbs or not, you should definitely add pine nuts; they weren't in the original recipe, but in my opinion, they made the dish. And one last change--I used less butter than the original recipe called for because the original recipe called for a total of 16 tablespoons, which I just couldn't do.

Malfatti:

Ricotta and Swiss Chard Dumplings

(Adapted from Sauveur)

• 1 pound ricotta
• 1 tsp Kosher salt, plus more to taste
• 2 bunches Swiss chard (about 2 pounds), tough inner stems removed
• 1 10 oz box frozen chopped spinach, defrosted (or two more bunches Swiss chard--that's what the original recipe called for)
• 6 tablespoons butter, melted
• 1/4 flour, plus more as needed
• 1/2 teaspoon freshly grated nutmeg
• 4 egg yolks
• 1 egg
• Freshly ground black pepper
• 2 tablespoons butter
• A handful of pine nuts
• Optional: 24 sage leaves

Make your own ricotta and drain it well, or put store-bought ricotta in a cheesecloth-lined strainer set over a bowl and let drain overnight in the refrigerator. Measure 1 1/4 cups drained ricotta and reserve any extra for another use.

Bring a large pot of salted water to a boil and add chard; cook until tender, about 3-5 minutes. Drain chard and let cool. Squeeze chard with your hands to expel liquid. Place chard and spinach in a tea towel and squeeze to remove as much water as possible.

Transfer the chard and spinach to a food processor and pulse until finely chopped. Transfer chard to a large bowl along with the ricotta, 1 teaspoon salt, melted butter, flour, nutmeg, egg yolks, and egg. Season with pepper and mix until smooth.

Test one dumpling--in a large pot of salted water, cook the dumpling until it floats to the surface. If it falls apart during this process, add more flour. Also taste the dumpling for seasoning, and adjust as needed. Using 2 spoons, shape 1 teaspoon at a time into an oval (like making a quenelle). Place the dumplings on a lightly floured baking sheet.

If you're not cooking the dumplings immediately, freeze them at this point. Later, when you would like to cook them, just throw them in a pot of boiling water--there's no need to defrost them first.

In a large skillet, melt 2 tablespoons butter over medium-high heat. Add the pine nuts (add the sage leaves at this point if you would like to use them) and dumplings and cook, tossing frequently, until the pine nuts and dumplings are nicely browned. Serve.

Shrimp, Spinach and Black Bean Quesidillas

Here's a relatively healthy meal that still feels a little bit indulgent. It's great for those nights when you don't want anything too complicated, but don't want to do a college throwback and just each nachos or a frozen pizza. Plus, it's fun to cook (not to mention eat). The amount of cheese listed below is approximate because while it would be delicious with more cheese, we were going for moderation. Add more if you're feeling frisky.

Shrimp and Spinach Quesidillas

(Inspired by Serious Eats)

Serves 2-4

• 1/2 pound shrimp
• 2 teaspoons Old Bay
• Juice of 1/4 of a lime
• 2 smallish tomatoes, finely diced
• 2 jalapeños, roasted, peeled, seeded, and diced
• 2 tablespoons chopped cilantro
• 1/2 teaspoon ground cumin, preferably freshly toasted and ground
• Scant 1/2 teaspoon ground coriander, preferably freshly toasted and ground
• Salt and pepper
• 2 boxes frozen chopped spinach, defrosted
• 1 can black beans, drained and rinsed
• 8 flour tortillas, about 6 inches in diameter
• About 2 tablespoons butter
• About 1 cup cheese, such as Monterey Jack, a 'Mexican' blend, or cojita
• Sour cream, to serve
• Hot sauce, to serve

Place the shrimp in a steamer basket over boiling water, and sprinkle with the Old Bay. Steam until just cooked through, stirring once, about 5 minutes. Remove from the heat and allow to cool. Once the shrimp are cool enough to handle, peel them, cut them each into 2 or 3 pieces, and place in a medium bowl.

Add the lime juice, tomatoes, 1 of the jalapeños, cilantro, and the cumin and coriander to the bowl. Season to taste with salt and pepper. Taste the mixture and add the other jalapeño if desired. Allow this to sit for 30 minutes.

Melt 1 teaspoon butter in a non-stick skillet over medium heat. Add a tortilla and coat with the butter. Cook, flipping occasionally, until each side is slightly crispy with golden brown spots. Set aside. Add more butter to the skillet if necessary, and repeat with the other tortilla.

When the second tortilla is ready, top it with a couple tablespoons of the cheese of your choice. Follow this with a 1/4 of the spinach, and about a 1/4 of the beans (I say about because you may not want to use all of the beans). Sprinkle with salt. Top with a quarter of the shrimp, and a couple more tablespoons cheese. Top with the previously prepared tortilla.

Cook the quesidilla, flipping once, until the cheese is melted and the ingredients are heated through. Remove to a cutting board, and when cool enough, cut into quarters. Repeat with the remaining 6 tortillas to make 3 more quesidillas. You may find that it is advantageous to use two skillets at the same time, in order to speed up the process.

Serve with hot sauce and sour cream.

Spinach Souffle

Now this is why I do the whole Daring Cooks thing...because when I opened the file for this November's challenge, my first thought was Oh, s***. Perhaps that's not everyone's idea of a fun time, but I like a challenge.

Souffles, how you torture me. I figure that a souffle is something that every semi-serious cook should have under their belt, but my one previous attempt scared me off. It was Julia Child's chocolate souffle, and while the taste was delicious, the texture was like a sponge that had been left in the sink for too long. Nick still makes fun of me for it, in fact, and this was about two years ago.

But because I think that it's a semi-necessary part of one's repertoire, I've always had it in the back of my mind that it must be attempted again, whether I repeat the same recipe or try another.

Fear of repeated failure had me convinced that a savory souffle might be a good place to start, partially because savory souffles are not expected to rise dramatically (my first one, of course, did not rise very much). I had spied this recipe a long time ago on Epicurious, and when I was craving some creamed spinach to go with a ribeye, this sounded like a perfect substitution.

So the verdict? Rather successful. It may not have been the lightest, airiest souffle to have ever graced a plate, but it was satisfactory. Enough so that I am no longer quite as afraid of souffles. Perhaps I'll even try a sweet version.

Spinach Soufflé

(Adapted from Epicurious)

• 5 tablespoon butter, plus extra for prepping the dish
• About 2 tablespoons finely grated fresh Parmesan
• 1 cup shopped shallots (about 6 ounces)
• 2 1/2 cups whole milk
• 1/4 cup all purpose flour
• 4 large eggs, separated
• 1 10-ounce package frozen chopped spinach, thawed, drained, squeezed dry
• 2 cups (packed) grated smoked Gouda cheese (about 7 ounces)
• 3/4 teaspoon salt
• 1/2 teaspoon ground black pepper
• 1/2 teaspoon ground nutmeg

Preheat oven to 350°F. Butter a standard soufflé dish, and sprinkle finely grated Parmesan all over the sides of the dish. 

In a large saucepan, cook shallots in the butter over medium heat, until tender, about 7 minutes. Add flour; stir 3 minutes. Whisk in the milk and cook, stirring almost constantly, until mixture is thick and smooth. This may take almost 15 minutes, as it must be done slowly so that the sauce does not burn or curdle. Remove sauce from heat. 

In a large bowl, thoroughly combine the egg yolks, spinach, 1 1/3 cups cheese, salt, pepper and nutmeg. When the sauce is cool enough that it's no longer steaming, stir about 3/4 cup into the spinach mixture. Gradually stir in the rest, being careful not to curdle the egg yolks.

Using electric mixer, beat egg whites in large bowl until stiff but not dry. Fold whites into spinach mixture in 2 additions. Transfer to prepared baking dish. Sprinkle remaining 2/3 cup cheese over. Bake until puffed and set, about 45 minutes

Ham and Spinach Lasagne

We couldn't decide what to get for dinner the other day, and we ended up buying some dry-cured ham. In the store, it looked like a teeny little ham, but it turned out to be two pounds. Now, two pounds is a lot when you're talking about a wet-cured ham (the only kind we had ever previously eaten), but it's a whole lot when you're talking about a rich, salty, dry-cured country ham.

On the ham's first night, we made a delicious Potato Gratin to go with it, but still had a lot left over. The leftovers made some delicious sandwiches, but I feared that the rest would go to waste. Some brain storming, though, led to the idea of a lasagne.

Now, lasagne is not one of my favorite foods. Yes, it's pasta and I love pasta, but I just don't love lasagne because it's generally heavy in a bad way (not a potato gratin way), the noodles are thick and goopy, and it's just not too interesting.

But I thought that very thin homemade egg noodles might nicely replace the thick, slimy noodles that are generally the undoing of a potentially good pasta dish. Not only would they be delicate and tasty, there would be no need to cook them in a pot of water. There would be no handling of molten hot ribbons of slipperiness, there would be no breakage of noodles, and there would be no messing around with the reportedly sub-par 'no-cook' lasagne sheets.

The other part of the heavyness problem, I thought, was the ricotta. I think that it's a stealth player, in that it seems innocuous enough and light enough, but secretly, it's adding more slimy, gunky heaviness to the dish. Homemade ricotta might be an improvement, but I just didn't have time for that. Therefore, there was to be no ricotta in this lasagne.

The third part of my lasagne plan involved doing away with the ubiquitous tomato sauce. There's nothing wrong with a tomato sauce, and I love tomato sauce, but I just didn't think that it would play nicely with the ham.

Therefore, this white lasagne recipe from Epicurious sounded perfect--no ricotta, no tomato, just a nice bechamel, and I basically made the printed recipe and added the ham and spinach. Like some of the reviewers of the original recipe mention, it is important to taste everything along the way--your bechamel should taste great before it's added to the dish. And don't do what I did and forget to add the flour to the butter before adding the liquids. That's what a bechamel is, and I managed to mess that part up.

Lastly, a lot of lasagne recipes call for eggs, and I've come to the conclusion that the eggs play the same role of saboteur as the ricotta. In fact, I felt like the eggs ruined my laborsome work of art. They turned a silky, beautiful bechamel into a curdly mess, and their flavor almost overwhelmed the more delicate flavor of the white sauce. Therefore, there are no eggs in the recipe printed below.

So mess-ups and all, this is now my answer to lasagne--thin, homemade noodles, a tasty bechamel, and some simple additions. The leftovers are delicious, and if you're expecting company, the lasagne can be assembled ahead of time and kept refrigerated until you're ready to start cooking; just add a few minutes to the cooking time.

Ham and Spinach Lasagne

(Partially adapted from Epicurious)

• A one-pound bag of frozen spinach
• One recipe homemade pasta
• 1 cup finely diced cooked ham, or about 6 ounces prosciutto, diced
• 3/4 cup minced  shallots
• 8 tablespoons unsalted butter
• 1/2 cup all-purpose flour
• 1/2 teaspoon (freshly!) grated nutmeg
• 3 3/4 cups whole milk
• 1 cup chicken stock
• 1/2 cup dry Marsala or Sherry
• 1 teaspoon sea salt
• 1 cup grated Parmesan-Reggiano
• Freshly ground pepper
• 1 tablespoon very good extra-virgin olive oil

Place the frozen spinach in a colander in the sink, and allow it to defrost. If it's taking forever to defrost, run some water over it and stir it all around occasionally.

Make the homemade pasta up to the point where it is wrapped in plastic wrap and allowed to rest. Preheat oven to 350°F with rack in middle.

Cook shallots in butter in a heavy large saucepan over medium heat, stirring occasionally, until tender, about 4 minutes. Add flour and cook over low heat, stirring with a wooden spoon, 3 minutes. Add nutmeg, then slowly whisk in milk and stock.

Bring to a boil, whisking, then simmer, stirring occasionally, just until sauce lightly coats back of spoon, about 1 minute. Do this very slowly, as impatience can lead to a curdled and/or burnt sauce. Remove from heat and cool to warm, stirring occasionally. Stir in Marsala or Sherry, sea salt, 1/2 teaspoon pepper, and 1/2 cup cheese. Be sure to taste the sauce at this point, and add more salt and pepper to taste.

While the sauce cools, squeeze as much water as possible out of the spinach. Place it in a large bowl and drizzle with the tablespoon olive oil. Add salt and pepper to taste and toss until combined.

Divide the dough into about 6 pieces, and re-wrap the 5 that you will not be using immediately. With your plain roller set to the largest setting (lower number), pass the dough through once. Fold like a book (one flat piece in the back, and two pieces folded over on the sides so that they almost meet in the middle) and pass through again. Fold like a book and repeat 2 more times.

At this point, you want the pasta sheet to be almost as wide as the rollers, so that as the pasta is stretched further, it becomes as wide as the rollers. After the last time, send the pasta through as is. Then, put the roller on the next smallest setting and pass the dough through. Continue to do this on smaller and smaller settings until the pasta is the desired thickness. For this recipe, I used the smallest setting. You can also use the second-smallest setting if you want the noodles to be a little bit noticeable, as opposed to totally melted into the other parts of the lasagne. You'll have a very long sheet that you will cut to the length of your baking dish.

Spread about 1 1/4 cups sauce over bottom of an 11- by 8-inch baking dish. Sprinkle about a quarter of the spinach and a quarter of the ham over the sauce-it will be a rather sparse covering. Cut your pasta sheet to the appropriate length, and cover the sauce with as many sheets as necessary (you'll probably need 2).
 
Repeat layering 3 more times, then top with remaining sauce and remaining 1/2 cup cheese. (You might not need all of the pasta dough. If not, it can be rolled out, cut into noodles, and dried.) Bake, uncovered, until browned, 45 to 55 minutes.

  

Cooks' note: Sauce can be made 1 day ahead and chilled, covered (once cool).



Fettuccine Verdi ai Fegatini, or Green Fettuccine with Chicken Livers

Frequently, our culinary exploits resemble nothing so much as a comedy of errors. Take out recent meal, for example--it called for making green pasta, which was going fine until it was time to roll out the dough.

Sometimes, for whatever reason, I seem to be lacking the right touch when it comes to the pasta dough, and rather than expelling a lovely smooth sheet of pasta, the rollers produce a shredded mass of green tatters. As the dough disintegrates into disarray, it makes a strangely palpable noise, "Squeaky! Squeaky! Squeaky!" and then "Splat! Splat! Splat!" as it misses my hands and hits the floor.

This is the scenario my Dad witnessed as he walked into the kitchen--Hunter standing by, half horrified, half amused, as the pasta goes, "Squeaky! Squeaky! Splat splat splat!"

After standing there for a minute with an 'Are you kidding me?' look on his face, my Dad said "Call Domino's!" (This was a joke, not a command). Hunter said later, "Little did he know, that wasn't the first time that happened."
"Yes, but it was the best," I said.
"True."

I've mentioned that every time I make pasta, there comes a moment where I become convinced that it's just not going to work this time. I tell myself, though, that if the Worst Cooks in America can make homemade pasta, then darn it, I can too.

And I did. At one point there was pasta in the cuff of my pants, but in the end, this was just about all the green dough that went to waste as a result of my suckiness:

Plus, no penguins interfered this time, so the pasta was not overcooked.

This, by the way is what Hunter thinks of the pasta roller:

I was initially going to explain that the first part is a bit tricky, so I'd let him do the cutting part, but he soon witnessed this for himself, and I think he liked the cutting part.

This spinach, a.k.a. green pasta was eventually tossed with a chicken liver sauce. Hey, don't diss the chicken livers. You'll hurt their feelings.

I will admit that they do look pretty gross.

The camera couldn't function in autofocus because they're just amorphous blobs, and they still look that way after using manual focus. Poor little guys.

More and more cookbooks offer recipes for liver, because in the high-low trends of today, things that were once declasse are gaining new status as the trend du jour. 'Look how cool I am,' you can say; 'I can mix H&M with Chanel and eat like an early twentieth century European peasant at Michelin starred restaurants.' I actually really like this turn of events in both worlds. Julia Child and Coco Chanel were ahead of everyone on this, though.

I can claim to have liked chicken livers for a long time because I'm cool like that. But admittedly, not all my life. Chicken livers are very popular in Italy, and my Italian grandmother would frequently make chicken livers at family gatherings because all of the adults loved them. The kids, however, would run screaming out of the room as soon as the smell of searing poultry organs began to waft into the air.

I was one of those screaming kids until one of the adults said, "Oh, shut up and try one." That's a life lesson there, by the way.

I cautiously put it in my mouth, gave it a tentative chew, and found that, yes, it actually is quite enjoyable, even down to the dense, somewhat powdery texture. We have since then attempted to make chicken livers the way my grandmother did, but like paella, it's never as good as the first version you had.

So I knew as soon as I saw this recipe that I had to try it, and although it meant carrying the Kitchenaid stand mixer up three flights of steps, I decided to make it at my Dad's house. I figured I could get Hunter to carry it: "Holy s%#& this is heavy!" Yes it is. That's why you're carrying it, not me. That sounds terrible, but I have three flights of steps at my house, so I'd already done my turn.



Okay, so pancetta, I mean bacon, rendered its fat, and carrots onions and garlic were softened. Chicken livers, cloves, a bay leaf, reconstituted dried porcini and their mushroom water, tomato paste and white wine were added, and this was simmered for half an hour. Some diced scallions were thrown in and the sauce was simmered for 10 more minutes before it was tossed with the pasta.

Oooohh! We need Parmesan!

I mentioned that the pasta was properly cooked, but it was a bit lacking in flavor. I have a tendency to oversalt our meals because I loooove salt, so I've sometimes lately been overcompensating by undersalting instead. Exhibit A:



Tasteless pasta.

As my Dad said, he voted with his fork, and showed me his bowl that was filled with pasta and devoid of any liver bits.

The liver sauce was quite tasty, and certainly not too livery. This might be a good dish to serve to someone who claims to not like liver, as the bacon and other ingredients play a strong supporting role.

Hunter and I agree, however, that if we were to make it again, some changes would be made. As usual, we're not sure if we'll make it again, but if we do, we'll use red wine instead of white, add some chopped tomatoes, leave out the carrots, add some red pepper flakes and fresh rosemary, and use plain instead of green pasta. The last stipulation was my Dad's, actually--he found the green pasta objectionable solely on the basis of its color. Its lack of flavor didn't help matters, either.

Perhaps someday I will make a wholly successful meal for the fam. In the meantime, I'll leave you with some shots of the macabre voodoo/effigy thing made from the splattered pasta pieces in a collaborative effort by Hunter and my Dad.




I prefer this guy, though:


One more thing--I think I've finalized the list of 10X10 cookbooks. Here it is:

1. Ad Hoc, by Thomas Keller
2. French Laundry by Thomas Keller
3. Braise, by Daniel Boulud
4. Parisian Home Cooking, by Michael Roberts
5. Mastering the Art of French Cooking, by Julia Child and Company
6. My French Kitchen, by Joanne Harris
7. Molto Italiano by Mario Batali
8. Italian Grill by Mario Batali
9. Sunday Suppers at Lucques by Suzanne Goin
10. Mexico the Beautiful

Fettuccine Verdi ai Fegatini

Green Fettuccine with Chicken Livers

(Originally from Molto Italiano, Very Much Adapted)

• 2 ounces dried porcini
• 2 cups hot water
• 2 tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil
• 4 slices bacon, diced
• 1 onion, diced
• 3 cloves of garlic, crushed
• 1 pound chicken livers
• 1 15-ounce can whole tomatoes
• 1 bay leaf
• 1 cup red wine
• 1/4 teaspoon red pepper flakes
• 2 teaspoons chopped fresh rosemary
• Salt and freshly ground black pepper
• 2 scallions, finely chopped
• 1 1/4 pounds green pasta dough (see below), cut into fettuccine
• Freshly grated Parmesan Reggiano, to serve

In a small bowl soak the dried mushrooms in hot water for 10 minutes. Lift out the mushrooms, reserving the liquid, and finely chop; set aside. Strain the liquid through is fine sieve and set aside.


In a large sauté pan, combine the olive oil and bacon and cook over medium-low heat until the bacon has rendered its fat. If desired, ladle out some of the fat. Maybe save it for another use. Add the onion and garlic, increase the heat to high, and sauté until softened. Add the chicken livers and cook, stirring occasionally, until browned. Add the tomatoes, bay leaf, and wine, and bring to a boil. Reduce the heat and simmer for 30 minutes, occasionally breaking up the tomatoes with a spatula or wooden spoon.


Remove the bay leaf. Add the red pepper flakes, rosemary, scallions, and reserved porcini liquid and simmer for 10 more minutes. Season to tasate with salt and pepper.


Meanwhile, bring a large, salted pot of water to boil. Add the pasta and cook until tender, 1 to 2 minutes. Drain.


Add the pasta to the pan with the sauce and toss over high heat for 1 minute. Divide evenly among 4 warm pasta bowls, to with the Parmesan, and serve immediately.

Green Pasta

(From Molto Italiano)

• 1 cup packed spinach leaves
• Salt
• 3 1/2 cups all-purpose flour, plus additional for kneading
• 5 large eggs

Bring a large pot of water to a boil, and a teaspoon of salt. Set up an ice bath next to the stove. Blanch one cup packed spinach leaves in the water for 45 seconds, and remove with tongs or a slotted spoon and plunge into the ice bath for 2 minutes.


Drain the spinach and squeeze dry in a kitchen towel, removing as much moisture as possible. Chop the spinach very fine and combine with the eggs in a small bowl. Stir well until as smooth as possible.


Mound the flour in the center of a large wooden board and sprinkle it with a teaspoon of salt. Make a well in the center of the flour and add the egg and spinach mixture. Using a fork or your fingers, with a swirling motion, begin to incorporate the flour, starting with the inner rim of the well. As you expand the well, keep pushing the flour up to retain the well shape.


When half of the flour is incorporated, the dough will begin to come together. Start kneading the dough, using primarily the palm of your hands. Once the dough is a cohesive mass, set the dough aside and scrape up and discard any dry bits of dough.


Lightly flour the board and continue kneading for 10 minutes. Seriously--10 minutes. Dust the board with additional flour as necessary. The dough should be smooth, elastic, and a little sticky. Wrap the dough in plastic wrap and allow to rest for 30 minutes at room temperature. 

To roll out the pasta, divide it into 6 pieces (if you're making the whole pasta recipe, rolling all of it, and drying the other half). Make each piece into a dish shape. 

With your plain roller set to the largest setting (lower number), pass the dough through once. Fold like a book (one flat piece in the back, and two pieces folded over on the sides so that they almost meet in the middle) and pass through again. Fold like a book and repeat 2 more times. After the last time, send the pasta through as is.

Then, put the roller on the next smallest setting and pass the dough through. Continue to do this on smaller and smaller settings until the pasta is the right thickness (a 5 on Kitchenaid stand mixers). Lay the dough out on a flat surface and cover with a towel so that it does not dry out, and repeat with the remaining lumps of dough.

When all of the pasta is laid out flat, switch to the fettuccine-cutting roller, and pass the pieces of dough through, one at a time. Again, spread out the dough and cover with a towel so that it does not dry out. Proceed with whatever recipe you're using this in.

Erbazzone, or Herb Sandwich from Parma

WOW.

Wow that's a lot of snow, and wow I ate A LOT last night. It was just so good that I was not able to stop myself, even after I was so full I could barely move.

The problematic deliciousness was in the form of lots of spinach, cured pork product, and Parmesan wrapped in a pastry shell. Wow.

I love love love pie crust, which is why pie is so much better than cake. That's where this recipe started, with making the pie crust. Again, Mario tells me to cut in the butter with my fingers. So not happening. My food processor was one of the best $50 purchases I have ever made. I love you, food processor.

So while the dough was resting in the fridge, some finely minced bacon was sauteed. It was supposed to be pancetta, but blizzard #3 was approaching, and Whole Foods was too crowded to go wandering around in search of pancetta, and I did not intend to drive to Fresh Market for the pancetta that I know they have. Bacon was in the freezer, so bacon was in the herb sandwich.

Some onions were minced, and part of the onions, part of the bacon, some pepper and some garlic went into a separate bowl.

I suppose this was a way to add more flavor and texture when the pie/tart/sandwich was later assembled and cooked. I don't know.

The rest of the onions were sauteed with the "pancetta", and 2 pounds of spinach was added to the skillet. Two pounds of uncooked spinack takes up a lot of space, and Nick totally didn't believe me when I said that the spinach would cook down to a fraction of its original volume.

As I was pressing massive amounts of spinach into the skillet, I whispered to it, "Wilt! Don't prove me wrong!"

It wilted. I was supposed to add garlic at this point, but I forgot. Oops. I just added it later, because garlic is very necessary.

Holy cow. I just now noticed that the recipe instructs you to blanch the greens prior to adding them to the skillet. That makes so much more sense.

Even as I was shoving all of those greens into the skillet, I was thinking to myself that it would have made a lot more sense to have already blanched or steamed them. I was also thinking that the spinach released a TON of water, so why was Mario telling me that I might need to deglaze with water in order to get to the fond. Wow. I am such a genius.

Okay, so the spinach onion bacon mixture was allowed to cool a little, and the Parmesan, raw bacon and onion mix, and two eggs were stirred in.

The dough was then rolled out and the filling was placed on top. That is, the still-seeping filling that shouldn't have been seeping in the first place, but I didn't follow directions. I rock.


The second piece of rolled-out dough was placed on top and the edges were folded and crimped.



The sandwich baked for 20 minutes, at which point I brushed it with garlic oil and cooked it for 20 more minutes.

Reading this, it seems so quick and simple. Actually, though, it took forever. Nick and I usually eat late, but we ate very late last night. But when we did eat, wow I ate a lot. This pie/tart/sandwich thing was absolutely awesome. It smelled insanely good when it was taken out of the oven, and it did not disappoint.

Like I said, it was a combination of some of the best things in the whole world, so how could it not be great? I think I ate about 5,000 calories yesterday, but it doesn't count because it was a snow day. Right?

You're probably tired of hearing me talk about snow, right? And if you live in the Baltimore area, you're probably sick of dealing with snow.

This is blizzard #3 this year, and the second time in a week that a state of emergency and the hospital's corresponding code yellow have been called. Again, I am so lucky to not be stuck at work. Woo hoo.

Some Facebook buddies posted that we have now gotten more snow this year than both Buffalo and Alaska. That's totally crazy, but I believe it. Also, this is the most snowfall that this region has seen in recorded history.

Other Facebook people have published posts in which they detail the ways in which they are losing their minds. Especialy the people with kids. Even Nick is losing his mind because he's so bored.

Look:
He's out there shoveling in winds so strong that Facebookers are saying that it's scaring them. Apparently, the wind is strong enough to blow snow under the door and create a drift in the building's front entrance.

We had talked about building a snowman on the porch because that would be pretty cool, but I no longer know how to approach such an undertaking.

I guess we would first have to move that chest-high drift. Or maybe we could actually carve a snowman out of it.

I would just like to note, however, that I am not complaining about the snow (only because I haven't gotten stuck at work, knock on wood). I figure that if it has to be winter, it should be winter. It sucks when it's just cold and dreary. At least with all this snow it's less boring.

Speaking of bored, Nick's back, so it's time to cook more food.

Herb Sandwich from Parma

Erbazzone

(Slightly Adapted from Molto Italiano)

Dough

• 2 cups all-purpose flour
• 1/2 cup cake flour
• 1 teaspoon salt
• 5 tablespoons high-quality lard or unsalted butter, chilled
• 3 tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil, chilled
• 7 to 10 tablespoons cold water

Filling

• 5 ounces thinly sliced pancetta, minced
• 3 large garlic cloves, minced
• 1 medium red onion, cut into a 1/4 inch dice
• Freshly ground black pepper
• 2 tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil
• 2 1/2 pounds spinach, beet greens, or swiss chard leaves, or a blend, blanched in boiling water till barely wilted, drained, squeezed dry, and chopped
• 1 cup Parmesan Reggiano 
• Salt
• 2 large eggs, beaten

Garlic Oil

• 2 tablespoons high-quality lard or extra virgin olive oil
• 1 clove garlic, minced

To make the dough, combine the flours and salt in a food processor and mix for a couple seconds. Add the olive oil (or lard) and the butter. Pulse a few times until the mixture resembles coarse crumbs. Move to a large mixing bowl and sprinkle with 7 tablespoons cold water. With a spatula, gently mix. If it is too dry, add more water, a little at a time. Gather the dough into a bowl, wrap with plastic wrap, and chill for at least 30 minutes.


To make the filling, in a small bowl, combine about 1/4 cup of the pancetta with a little of the garlic, about 1/4 cup of the onion, and a generous amount of pepper. Set aside.


Cook the remaining pancetta in the olive oil in a large skillet over medium-low heat until it has given off much of its fat, about 5 minutes. Add the remaining onion and cook, covered, for 15 minutes, or until the onion has softened.


Uncover, raise the heat to high, and cook until the filling is a rich golden brown. Add the spinach, reduce the heat to medium, and cook until the greens are tender, about 7 minutes if you're using one of the heartier greens. 


Stir in the remaining garlic and cook for another 30 seconds or so, until fragrant. If a brown glaze has formed on the skillet bottom, add a little water and simmer, scraping up the brown bits, until the water has evaporated. Turn the filling into a bowl and let it cool.


Add the Parmesan and the reserved pancetta mixture to the filling. Taste for seasoning and blend in the eggs.


Set a rack as close to the bottom of the oven as possible, and preheat the oven to 400 degrees.


For the garlic oil, combine the olive oil (or lard) and garlic in a small pan and heat over medium until fragrant. Remove from the heat.


Brush a 14-inch pizza pan with olive oil. Divide the dough in half. On a lightly floured surface, roll one piece to about a 14-inch circle, and place it on the pan. Spread the filling over the pastry, leaving about a 2-inch border.


Roll out the second piece of dough to a 14-inch round. Dampen the edges of the bottom crust with water, top with the second round of dough, and pinch the edges together. Fold the edges over toward the center of the torta, and crimp. Make a few slashes on the top of the crust for steam to escape.


Bake for 20 minutes. Brush the crust with the garlic oil, and bake for another 20 minutes, or until the top is pale gold and very crisp and the edges are golden brown. Cut into wedges to serve.

Sweet Potato Agnolotti in Sage Cream Sauce

Ooooh...the first French Laundry recipe of 10X10.

This might actually be a good time for a little tallying. So far we have:

Two recipes from My French Kitchen, one recipe from Braise, two recipes from Parisian Home Cooking, one recipe from Molto Italiano, and one recipe from The French Laundry. Just 93 to go.

Also, Ad Hoc came in the mail, so it's time for the "random" number generator.

Page 136 is a selection of 10 different salads. While these salads are not necessarily simple, as every salad is actually a combination of a few different recipes, this seems too lackluster. Perhaps I'll pick again.

Page 150 is iceberg lettuce slices with blue cheese dressing, oven-roasted tomatoes, bacon, and brioce crutons. The number generator apparently really wants me to make a salad from this book. Well, this looks delicious, and I had actually planned to make it. Althought it is a salad, it's not necessarily a copout because the recipe requires that you make the dressing, roast the tomatoes, as well as make and toast the brioche. Brioche requires an overnight rest in the fridge, and the tomatoes take several hours to slowly roast, so it's a actually not a wimpy recipe.

By the way, did you know that the formerly tacky, pre-foodie, chicken-soup-casserole-era iceberg is making a comeback? It's true. Look for heirloom varieties of iceberg lettuce at the farmer's market this summer. People are once again coming to appreciate its crispy, watery coolness, and its image is being revamped from a holdout found only in steakhouses, to an unapologetic indulgence. Who cares if it has "no nutritional value?"

So, part of the reason that I liked Nick's idea for this project was because I had been interested in getting back to utilizing cookbooks. I love the tactile act of flipping through a cookbook, marking the pages you like, and maybe rediscovering a recipe that did not previously interest you. But I had been cooking from online recipes for so long that when I walked into my Dad's house this past fall with a book rather that a computer, Hunter was amazed. It was time for a change.

There is, of course, nothing wrong with online recipes. Epicurious, for example, has a wonderful (and extensive) collection, and the functions that enable you to organize your recipes are awesome. With a cookbook, however, someone has created a whole world within the two covers, and when you explore a cookbook, you become a part of that world.

A cookbook can tell a story, and it can teach you to be a better cook. Just about every cookbook has some instructional aspects, and their usefuleness depends on your proir experience. For example, I didn't find anything new in Tyler Florence's Real Kitchen. I chose that book because he has a wide range of seemingly solid recipes, and I particularly liked how a lot of his desserts have savory aspects. When I read the French Laundry cookbook and Mastering the Art of French Cooking, however, I learned a lot.

I first took note of Tyler Florence's book when it was listed in this article that my Dad thoughtfully sent in order to assist me in the search for books for this project. The article purportedly enumerated the best cookbooks of the decade, and Tyler Florence's Real Kitchen was on this list, so when I saw it in the library I decided to give it a chance, and I ended up putting it on the list.

I have to admit that I am not familiar with every book on this 'best of the decade' list, but I have perused many of them. And I have to say that this is a list with some notable errors. For example, the French Laundry cookbook is not on this list. How can it not be? Alinea is first on the list, but without Thomas Keller and the French Laundry, Grant Achatz might not have even opened Alinea. Plus, the French Laundry cookbook revolutionized the way cookbooks are published.

When Thomas Keller made the first edition of this book, everyone thought that he was crazy. They tried to tell him that people didn't want such a lavishly illustrated, complicated cookbook. It went on to sell insanely well, of course, as it is a stunning and inspirational book. Had he not made this beautiful book, would Heston Blumenthal have been able to publish the Big Fat Duck Cookbook, and would David Chang have been able to create the Momofuku cookbook? If you think that the French Laundry is challenging, try one of those books.

I've had my eye on this recipe for a long time, and it's one of the recipes that made me really want the pasta maker attachment for my stand mixer. In fact, if I didn't receive it as a Christmas gift, I was going to make it a Merry Christmas To Me present. Don't deny it, you do it too--"One for me, one for them, two for me, one for them..."

Well, I wrecked my car on Hunter's birthday, which is right before Christmas. Not only did I mess up his party, I had to buy an Audi as the Merry Christmas To Me present, instead of the pasta maker. Well, I didn't have to get an Audi, but whether I got an Audi or a Volkswagen, it precluded buying myself a pasta maker. Lucky for me, Nick got it for me.

So you start by roasting a pound and a half of sweet potatoes with four tablespoons of butter. You scoop out the flesh and pass it through a food mill or potato ricer while it's still hot; this is always an opportune moment for some nice scalding. I didn't take a picture of this step, as I thought it would be better to show you how Hunter feels about the food mill:

(This was actually for the French Laundry recipe Warm Friutwood Smoked Salmon with Potato Gnocchi and Balsamic Glaze. It was very delicious, and very buttery.)

Two pieces of bacon are then lightly browned and added to the sweet potato mixure, along with some nutmeg, allspice, and four more tablespoons of butter. I think Thomas Keller is trying to kill me. With butter.

This filling was allowed to cool and then piped onto the freshly made pasta dough. Okay, I admit it--I didn't pipe it, I spooned it. I was too lazy to get out the pastry bag, okay?

Ummm...I also didn't use Thomas Keller's pasta recipe. "Gasp!" Well, I've attempted it before, and I don't like it. I found that the flour-to-egg ration was too high to make the dough workable. I recently read that West Coast eggs are smaller than East Coast eggs; I don't know if this egg thing is true (although I think I read this in the Ad Hoc book), but it might help explain why I found the dough to be too tough.

I used Jamie Oliver's recipe instead, and it turned out beautifully. The best part is--it didn't smell like placenta! The last time I made pasta, I made two different batches, and both times, the dough smelled overwhelmingly of placenta. If you think about it, this sort of makes sense as an egg is sort of like a placenta, but it was still traumatizing for me and my Facebook friends. As I was working with that dough, I had to avert my face and hope that the resulting pasta tasted better than it smelled. Don't worry--it was delicious.

After the filling was "piped" onto the fresh pasta dough, it was time to form the agnolotti. Much cussing ensued. I mean, the part of the French Laundry cookbook that explained the forming of the agnolotti is a column of about 6 inches of dense type, and I couldn't make much sense of it. It got to the point that Nick offered to make an attempt, because I think he started to worry about all of the sharp and breakable stuff laying around within my reach.


I couldn't not be a pain in the butt, so I complicated the situation by not leaving Nick alone until I was quite frustrated with myself, and with the very concept of agnolotti. "Why do these stupid pasta have to be in such a stupid shape, and why does it have to be so stupidly difficult to make them?" Once I let Nick do his thing, though, he figured it out. They don't really look like the ones in the book's pictures, but they'll do. Thanks, Nick.

In fact, they're rather cute. They look like wrapped up candy.


It was now time to prep the chicken cutlets that had been brining. I had loved the idea of pan-seared scallops with the agnolotti, but for many years, half of the time that we ate scallops, Nick and I would throw up. I don't think it was a matter of food poisoning, as we didn't necessarily throw up at the same time. It hasn't been a problem for a while, so I don't know what that was all about, but it's left us a bit wary of scallops. The ones at Whole Foods didn't look so hot, so chicken it is.

Meals that involve Thomas Keller's recipes tend to come together in a concluding crescendo, and this one was no different: we pan-seared the cutlets, dropped the agnolotti in salted water for boiling, pureed warm creme fraiche and a half a cup of butter (for a half-sized sauce recipe) with some previously boiled sage leaves, strained the cream sauce back into the skillet, made some brown butter, wilted some spinach, tossed the cooked agnolotti with the cream sauce, plated the spinach, plated the chicken, strewed the agnolotti around, and drizzled them with brown butter. Whew.

Did I mention that Thomas Keller is trying to kill me with butter? Have you been keeping track? I'm not eating again until my birthday dinner.


I have another confession--I didn't make the fried sage leaves, and I forgot to put the julienned prosciutto on the initial plating.

Well, it was delicious anyway. The filling was sweet and buttery without being too dense and heavy, and the sage cream sauce nicely complimented the sweet and salty aspects of the agnolotti. The pasta was tasty, and if it was a bit too chewy, I'll just tell myself that it provided a nice counterpoint to the meltingly soft sweet potato filling.


The best part was that while you could certainly tell that the sage was there, and it played well with the other flavors, you almost had to go looking for a distinct taste of it. The execution of this recipe wasn't perfect (especially my sucky plating), but it was quite satisfactory. This, too, will go on the repeat list.

Sweet Potato Agnolotti in in Sage Cream Sauce

(From the The French Laundry Cookbook)

Sweet Potato Filling

• 1 1/2 pounds sweet potatoes
• 8 tablespoons (4 ounces) unsalted butter
• 2 slices bacon, frozen and cut into 1/4-inch dice
• Pinch of allspice or nutmeg
• Kosher salt and freshly ground black pepper
• 1/2 recipe for pasta dough

Sage Cream

• 1/3 cup sage leaves (save the smaller leaves for the fried sage leaf garnish)
• 1 cup creme fraiche
• 1 cup Buerre Monte (below)
• Pinch of Kosher salt, or to taste
• Canola oil for deep-frying
• 48 tiny sage leaves (reserved from above)
• 2 tablespoons (1 ounce) unsalted butter
• 4 thin slices prosciutto, cut crosswise into fine julienne

For the sweet potato filling:
Preheat the oven to 350 degrees.
Cut the ends off the potatoes and wrap the potatoes individually in aluminum foil, dividing 4 tablespoons of the butter evenly between them. Bake until they are soft, 1 to 2 hours (the time will vary, depending on the size of the potatoes).


Unwrap the cooked potatoes and cut a slit lengthwise in the skin of each. Pull the skin away from the potato and discard. Push the potatoes through a potato ricer while they are hot and place in a saucepan.


Place the diced bacon in a skillet. Cook until it is lightly browned and the fat has been rendered. Transfer the bacon pieces to paper towels to drain briefly, then add them to the potatoes.


Stir the potatoes over low heat, seasoning to taste with the nutmeg or allspice and salt and pepper. Mix in the remaining 4 tablespoons butter. You will have about 1 2/3 cups filling (enough to fill 48 agnolotti). Refrigerate the filling until chilled, or for up to 2 days, before filling the agnolotti.


Divide the dough into 2 or 3 pieces. Run the dough through a pasta machine as for ravioli, but make the sheets wider. The size will vary according to the pasta machine used, but the sheets should be at least 5 inches wide. It is important that the pasta sheet be thin enough so that you can see your fingers through it, but not so thin that it's translucent. Keep the pasta sheets covered, as they dry out quickly.


Lay the pasta sheets, one at a time, on a lightly floured work surface with the long side facing you. Trim the edges so they are straight. Place the agnolotti filling in a pastry bag fitted with a 1/2-inch plain tip. Pipe a 'tube' of filling across the bottom of the pasta sheet, leaving a 3/4-inch border of pasta along the left, right, and bottom edges.


Pull the bottom edge of the pasta up and over the filling. Seal the agnolotti by carefully molding the pasta over the filling and pressing lightly with your index finger to seal the edge of the dough to the pasta sheet; don't drag your finger along the dough to seal, or you risk riping the dough.


When it is sealed, there should be about 1/2-inch of excess dough visible above the tube of filling (where you sealed it). Be certain that you are sealing tightly while pressing out any air pockets. Seal the left and right ends of the dough.


Starting at one end, place the thumb and forefinger of each hand together as if you were going to pinch something, and, leaving about 1 inch of space between your hands and holding your fingers vertically, pinch the filling in 1-inch increments, making about 3/4 inch of 'pinched' area between the agnolotti, or when the agnolotti are separated, they might come unsealed.


Run a crimped pastry wheel along the top of the folded-over dough, separating the strip of filled pockets from the remainder of the pasta sheet. Don't cut too close to the filling, or you risk breaking the seal. Separate the individual agnolotti by cutting through the center of each pinched area, rolling the pastry wheel away from you.


Working quickly, place the agnolotti on a baking sheet dusted with a thin layer of cornmeal, which will help prevent sticking. Don't let the agnolotti touch each other, or they may stick together. Repeat the same procedure with the remainder of the pasta sheets.


For the sage cream, blanch the sage leaves in boiling water for 2 minutes. Drain, cool in cold water, and drain again. Squeeze the leaves dry.


Heat the creme fraiche, buerre monte, and salt over low heat until hot; do not boil. Place the sage in a blender and process to chop it. With the motor running, pour the hot cream mixture through the top and blend thoroughly. Strain the cream into a large skillet. Check the seasoning and set aside.


In a small pot, heat oil for deep frying to 275 degrees. Fry the small sage leaves briefly, just until they are crisp (their color should not change), and dry on paper towels. 


Place the butter in a skillet over medium heat and cook to a nutty brown color; reduce the heat and keep warm. Meanwhile, cook the agnolotti in a large pot of lightly salted boiling water until cooked through, 4 to 5 minutes.


Drain the cooked agnolotti and mix them gently with the sage cream sauce over low heat. Divide the agnolotti among six serving dishes and drizzle with the browned butter. Scatter some prosciutto over each serving and garnish with the fried sage leaves.

Buerre Monte

A little bit of butter helps the emulsion process: Whether you emulsify 4 tablespoons (2 ounces) or 1 pound of butter, just a tablespoon of water will do. 


Bring the water to a boil in an appropriate-size saucepan. Reduce the heat to low and begin whisking chunks of butter into the water, bit by bit to emulsify. Once you have established the emulsion, you can continue to add pieces of butter until you have the quantity of buerre monte that you need.


It is important to keep the level of heat gentle and consistent in order to maintain the emulsification. Make the buerre monte close to the time it will be used and keep it in a warm place. If you have extra buerre monte, it can be refrigerated and then reheated to use as melted butter, or clarified.