Unseasonal Pan-Roasted Veggies, Seasonal Fresh Peas

For various reasons, including a Romesco obsession and a trip to California's Central Coast, we hadn't made a 10X10 meal in a long time.

We had been really really excited about the Daring Cook's May challenge, which was enchiladas with a verde sauce. We had fully intended to turn the pork shoulder that had been languishing in the freezer into some delicious Mexican-y goodness, but, again, for a number of reasons, it just didn't happen. The shoulder was therefore begging to be used, and of course, Susanne Goin had the answer in the form of Spiced Pork Stew with Polenta, Root Vegetables, and Gremolata.

I really do realize that I keep whining about how I'm over the whole braised meat thing for now, but it was an atypically cold day, and a stew really did sound perfect. Plus, I had had polenta on the brain for no good reason, so this sounded perfect. I love you, Susanne.

We didn't love the pork stew, but it was probably my fault, or what we call 'user error.' And, of course, I had another major Polenta Fail. I'll get this stuff right someday, I swear. My family has gotten to the point that they think that even when made properly, it can't be that great. Can it? But a lot of food people say that it can be that great, which is why I'm determined to get it right, much to my family's chagrin.

This time, it was another watery, flavorless gruel.

That's why we gave it googly eyes. Everything is better with googly eyes.

The one thing that I really loved about this meal, though, were the 'roasted' vegetables. Because they were root vegetables, they didn't seem very springy, but they've revolutionized my thinking when it comes to the preparation of hearty veggies.

Here's how I will in the future cook root vegetables (an adaptation of Susanne's recipe):

(It means a bit more active time than coating vegetables in oil and throwing them in the oven, but it's still easy, and it's well worth it.)

Pan-Roasted Root Vegetables with Gremolata

(By Suzanne Goin)

• Zest of one lemon
• 1 teaspoon minced garlic
• 1/3 cup chopped fresh flat leaf parsley
• 1 lb. carrots (preferably organic with the tops attached), peeled
• 2 medium turnips
• 3 tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil
• 1 TBSP fresh thyme leaves
• 2 TBSP unsalted butter
• 1 cup 1/4 inch-thick slices shallot
• Salt and freshly ground black pepper
• 1 bag parsnips (if they're not sold in bags where you live, then about 6 medium ones)

Place the lemon zest on a cutting board and chop it coarsely. Place the garlic and parsley on top and chop the whole mixture together until it is very fine. This is the gremolata. 

Slice the carrots and parsnips into 1/2 inch slices cut on the bias. Clean the turnips, cut off the tails, and trim the stems. Cut small turnips in to halves or quarters, and if they're larger, cut them in half and then into 1/2 inch wedges.

Using 2 saute pans so that the vegetables are not crowded, heat the olive oil over medium-high until shimmering. Divide the carrots, parsnips and turnips between the pans and season with 1 teaspoon salt, 1/4 teaspoon pepper, and the thyme. Cook 10-15 minutes, stirring often, until the vegetables just start to caramelize.

Add the butter and shallots and saute another 10 minutes, tossing often. If the vegetables are becoming too brown without softening, reduce the heat. The vegetables are finished when they're nicely caramelized and tender.

Toss with the gremolata before serving.

Spring-Time Peas

• 2 teaspoons olive oil
• One small onion, diced
• 1 lb fresh peas, shelled an rinsed
• 1/2 tablespoon butter
• Salt
• Freshly ground pepper

In a large saute pan, heat the olive oil over medium heat. Add the onion and saute until soft, and almost caramelized. This will take 15-40 minutes, depending on how well you like the onions cooked. If they start to dry out or burn, add some butter and reduce the heat.

When the onions have reached the desired stage of doneness, add the peas and saute until tender, but still a little pop-in-the-mouth crisp, about 5 to 8 minutes. Toss with the butter (you can use more if you like, but we were trying to be healthy.) Season to taste with salt and pepper.

Ropa Vieja

I think it's fun to emphatically shout "Ropa Vieja!" while attempting to roll the r's.

Nick thinks it's fun to ask "Donde es Tomatillo?" while looking at the fish tank. Tomatillo is a greenish/yellowish plecko; pleckos hide.

This isn't our particular plecko, but I couldn't get a picture of Tomatillo because he was hiding. He looks like this, though.

We should probably get out of the house. But guess what? There is way too much snow out there. We couldn't leave even if we wanted to. In fact, it's been declared a "Phase III," which means that no one but emergency vehicles are to be driving anywhere for any reason.

"Ropa Viejaaaa!!'

"Tomatillooooo!!"

I'm thinking Ropa Vieja because that's what's in the oven. Nick just likes his fish.

When planning for the upcoming snOMG/Snowverkill/Snowmageddon (I've been spending way too much time on Facebook), I was again looking for something that could cook all day but was relatively simple.

Ropa Vieja came to mind, partially because it's very simple, and partially because I was determined to make it delicious. I once worked in a Cuban restaurant that served this classic dish, and it sucked. However, most of the food in this restaurant sucked, which is why I made no money and left within a few months.

But I figured that anything that involves seared meat cooked forever with peppers, onions, jalapenos and spices can't suck if it's done properly, right?

Nick just yelled, "Toma-Mother-F#$%in'-Tillo!!"

He agrees. We're feeling the Latin vibe whilst being buried under snow.

So this recipe was started the night before it was to be cooked, when I coated some flank steak with oregano, jalepenos, garlic, and salt. It sat in the fridge all night while I stuffed my face with bacony spinachy crusty goodness.

Today, after Nick came in from the snow, the meat was brushed off and seared in the dutch oven. Then the sliced onions were added, and then the sliced peppers were added.

Nick would like to point out that HE sliced the peppers. He also seared the meat because he's the Meat Master. I know that sounds weird, but that's part of why it's funny, right? Why did Nick slice the peppers? Because I am not competent.

We ate shrimp fajitas the other day, and we had some green peppers that were soggy, and some that were raw. That's because even though I have pretty good knife skills, I'm too lazy to cut the peppers into a consistent size. That is why Nick sliced the peppers today.

We then added some sherry and let it come to a simmer. Then I was supposed to add 8 plum tomatoes that had been peeled, cored, and cut in half. By the way, Daniel Boulud also suggested that we peel the peppers. SO not happening.

I've mentioned before that I cannot bring myself to buy tomatoes in the depths of winter because they would be pointlessly expensive and flavorless.

So I added canned tomatoes but tried to rip them in half before adding them to the pot. This is what happened:

So I cleaned the stove for the third time in one day, added some water and bay leaves to the dutch oven, and it went into a 275 degree oven.

Yes, that is a very not hot oven.

That's why this timer says not 4 minutes, and not 4 o'clock, but 4 hours. And that's why it's a great snow day meal. Even a losing-your-mind-because it-won't-stop-snowing-day meal.

It actually stopped snowing right when we put the pot in the oven.

But it's supposed to start again in a few hours.

Nick just noted that I posted a snow day blog a few days ago with a picture of an almost snow-devoid porch. That's pretty funny now.

Like I said before, this is one of the things that's pretty cool about a braised meal:

Look at that spiffily clean kitchen.

So how was it? It was great. Comforting and tasty without being overwhelmingly heavy. This was a good thing, as I had done nothing but eat for the past few days.

It could have been a little heavier on the onions, and I knew this before putting it in the oven, but it wasn't exactly feasible to run out to the store to grab an onion.

With some lime juice, hot sauce, and a little bit of sour cream, it was nice and wintery yet reminiscent of summer.

It might not look all that appetizing, but it's supposed to be shreds of meat. Its name means 'old clothes' or 'old rags' depending on who is translating.

And, as is often the case with stews and braised dishes, it was even better the next day for breakfast.

Ropa Vieja

(Slightly Adapted from Braise)

• 4 garlic cloves, peeled and chopped
• 2 jalapeño peppers, chopped
• 2 teaspoons dried oregano, preferably Cuban
• 1 1/2 teaspoons Kosher salt, plus additional
• 2 1/2 to 3 pound flank steak
• 1 to 2 tablespoons extra virgin olive oil
• 1 tablespoon unsalted butter
• 2 medium Spanish onion, peeled, halved, and thinly sliced
• 2 large green bell peppers, peeled (peeling is optional), cored, seeded, and thinly sliced
• 1 rd bell pepper, peeled (peeling is optional), cored, seeded, and thinly sliced
• 1/2 cup sherry
• 1 28-ounce can whole tomatoes
• 2 bay leaves
• Freshly ground black pepper
• Lime wedges, for serving

The day before you plan to make this dish, combine the garlic, jalapeños, oregano, and salt in a non-reactive container. Add the meat and rub the mixture all over it. Cover tightly with plastic wrap, and marinate overnight in the refrigerator.


Center a rack in the oven and preheat to 275 degrees.


Heat 1 tablespoon olive oil and the butter in a Dutch oven over high heat. Scrape the rub off the flank steak, and reserve. Add the flank steak to the pot and sear both sides until golden brown. Transfer the flank steak to a plate. 


If there is not enough fat in the pot, add another tablespoon of olive oil. Add the onions and cook until light golden brown. Add the bell peppers and cook for 5 minutes. Add the sherry and bring to a simmer, scraping up any brown bits on the bottom of the pot. 


With kitchen shears, cut the tomatoes into smaller pieces while they're still in the can. Add to the pot. Add 1 cup water, and the reserved rub. Return the flank steak to the pot, nestle it in amongst the vegetables, and add the bay leaves and salt and pepper to taste. Bring to a simmer.


Cover the pot with a tight-fitting lid and transfer to the oven, and braise until the meat is very tender, 3 1/2 to 4 hours, turning the steak every hour or so. The meat is ready when it is falling apart in to ropy shreds--thus the name, Ropa Vieja.

Beef Stew, Rosemary Ciabatta

So I mentioned last time that I was feeling quite fortunate to not be working during the upcoming snow storm.

Did you know that in a state of emergency, healthcare workers are not allowed to go home? I've been a nurse for a few years, and I somehow didn't know that.

Luckily, I was not held captive on Friday morning, because the state of emergency was not called until the afternoon. Even though it wasn't snowing at that point, either.

I had initially planned to go to the store when I woke up on Friday afternoon, but luckily I realized that that was a stupid idea for several reasons.

(It was like a black and white world out there.)

Instead, I joined the masses standing outside the doors of Whole Foods at 8 a.m. on Friday morning. I have got to tell you that I have never seen anything like Whole Foods was that morning. I'm glad I had decided to go with simple, old school favorites, because searching out obscure ingredients would have been a bad idea. A Braise recipe will just have to happen another time.

So on Friday night, was had shrimp fajitas, and on Saturday night, we had our neighbor friends over and had old-school beef stew. It's been a while since I've made a beef stew-like dish that didn't include red wine, bacon, or other Frenchy accouterments, so it was kind of nice to have what Nick called good old American beef stew.

Not that there's anything wrong with Frenchy beef stews. I made Thomas Keller's Boeuf Bourguignon this past winter, and it was one of the most amazing things I've ever eaten. That recipe is hard core. It's expensive, time-consuming, and all-around intense, but it's worth it.

Sometimes simplicity is a beautiful thing, though, and this beef stew is child's play in comparison to the French Laundry recipe. I'll include the recipe, as it's one I made up myself many years ago. Not that that's an impressive feat, as it's a very simple recipe, but it's pretty darn good.

Leah's Beef Stew

-About 2 pounds of beef stew chunks
-1 large onion, diced
-3 celery stalks, diced
-About 6 medium carrots, preferably organic, diced
-Fresh rosemary
-Fresh parsley
-About 6 peppercorns
-1 can tomato paste, preferable Miur Glenn
-About 8 cups organic beef stock
-2 largish red potatoes, cubed
-One largish white potato, peeled if it's a Russet, left unpeeled if it has soft skin, cubed

Optional but yummy: Rosemary bread for serving

If the beef pieces are on the large side, trim them so that they're about 1 inch square, and thoroughly dry them, as the beef will not brown well if it is wet.

Salt and pepper the beef, and over medium-high heat, heat about a tablespoon of oil in a dutch oven until it shimmers. Working in batches, brown the beef cubes. If they are overcrowded, they will steam rather than brown. You might even need to do 3 batches, so just add more oil as needed.

Remove the beef cubes to a paper towel-lined plate or baking sheet.

Add the onion, carrots, and celery to the dutch oven, as well as more oil if necessary. The quantities above are approximate, as vegetables vary greatly in size. Basically, though, you should have 2 parts onion, one part celery, and one part carrot, which makes a miropoix. I like to go a little heavy on the carrots, actually, but that's just me.

Make a bouquet garni by tying up about 3 sprigs of rosemary with about 3 sprigs of parsley and a few peppercorns in a piece of cheesecloth. Add salt, and saute the vegetables and the bouquet garni until the vegetables are soft; they do not need to take on color, so medium heat should work.

When the vegetables are soft, add the can of tomato paste and cook for another minute or two. I suggest using Muir Glenn, because Cook's Illustrated did a taste test, and Muir Glenn was the winner.

Remove the veggies to a bowl. Add the beef back to the pot, add the beef stock and the bouquet garni, and bring to a boil. Once boiling, partially cover and reduce to a fast simmer and simmer for about an hour.

At this point, add the vegetables and simmer for at least 2 more hours, still partially covered. Add more finely chopped rosemary if necessary.

This might seem like way too long to cook a beef stew, and it probably is, but Nick and I like it when the stew has been cooked for so long its components are just demolished and the broth is very thick. We like it when the potatoes are disintegrating, and the beef cubes are falling apart into little stringy bits, and that takes at least 2 1/2 to 3 hours.

You pretty much can't overcook this stew. Adjust to taste with salt and lots of pepper. We like our stew to be very peppery, and very heavy on the rosemary.

Speaking of rosemary, I noted above that this stew is delicious when served with rosemary bread. We used to buy the rosemary sourdough bread from Whole Foods, but I didn't think that bread bought on Friday was going to be much good on Saturday, and I certainly wasn't going to be making a trip to the store on Saturday.

In case you don't live in the Baltimore/DC area, this is why I wasn't going anywhere on Saturday:


So I decided to make Jim Lahey's ciabatta bread with some added rosemary. If you haven't heard of Jim Lahey's no knead bread technique, you should definitely check out his cookbook. A few years ago, he created a sensation with this breadmaking technique, and it was profiled by the New York Times.

If you don't feel like checking out the book, the Times printed a version of his basic recipe here. Cook's Illustrated also came up with a bread that uses this technique, so you might be able to find that version.

(Finally, the sun came out, and there was color!)

Basically, you create a very wet bread dough with a very small amount of yeast. Jim Lahey explains the science behind this dough in his book:

"The long, slow rise brings the gluten molecules into side-by-side alignment, to maximize their opportunity to bind to each other and produce a strong, elastic network. The wetness of the dough is an important piece of this because the gluten molecules are more mobile when there is a sufficient quantity of water, and so can move into alignment easier and faster than if the dough was stiff."

If you ever make this dough, it will seem totally wrong at first, but don't add more flour, just go with it.



This bread is insanely easy to make; it just requires that you plan ahead in order to accommodate the 18-24 hour rise. I've made his standard recipe, as well as the wheat recipe, so I wanted to try the ciabatta.

Speaking of ciabatta, if you ever find yourself at Pazo in Batimore, you should get their ciabatta.

So I made the dough by just dumping the ingredients together, including about 2 teaspoons of rosemary, and let the dough rise for about 22 hours.

Speaking of chopping rosemary, I got bored with using the chef's knife, so I decided to try the coffee grinder. It worked beautifully, and I felt like a genius. It wasn't so easy to clean, though, so we'll see how I feel later when I'm drinking rosemary-scented coffee. Gross.
The dough then got pushed around a little bit and underwent a secondary rise for about an hour.

Jim Lahey then directs you to put half of the dough on a preheated pizza stone and cover it with a preheated clay baker. Well, I don't have a clay baker, and because they sound highly breakable, I don't intend to get one.
Instead, I inverted the dutch oven to cover the bread on the pizza stone. This was potentially a very bad idea, as dutch ovens are quite heavy. The clay bakers are heavy too, though, and I figured that the dutch oven at least has big handles.

Well, I managed to cook two separate loaves of bread without inflicting a serious injury upon myself. And the bread was awesome.

Jim Lahey sounds a little cocky when he claims that his bread is better than what you'll find in most stores, but it's true. I could have eaten all of that bread myself, especially with some cheese and Prosecco.

Did you know that sparkling wine is really good with beef stew? I wouldn't have guessed, but it was great. We've all been drinking Prosecco and Cava before meals for a while now, and it's recently gotten trendy. I swear we were doing it first, though.


What a lovely snow day.