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

Broccoli Almondine

I usually like to go to the store, see what kind of produce looks good, and go from there. Some days, though, everything looks wilty, or there's really just nothing to choose from. But usually, there's broccoli. It's like that old dress that's kind of boring, but it's comfortable, and sometimes you just can't come up with anything else to wear.

This old stand-by veggie can be simply steamed and tossed with some salt and pepper, which is what I do when I'm feeling like a fatty, but that sometimes feels like vegetables as punishment. But add some shallots, a little bit of butter, and some sliced almonds, and you have broccoli magic.

Broccoli Almondine

(Serves 2 if you like a lot of veggies)

• 1 tablespoon butter
• 3/4 cup sliced shallots
• 2 crowns of broccoli, about 5 inches each in diameter
• 1/4 cup sliced almonds
• Optional: about a teaspoon lemon juice

Melt the butter in a large skillet over medium heat. When the foaming subsides, add the shallots. Cook the shallots until they are very tender, but not quite caramelized (about 20 minutes).

In the meantime, cut the broccoli into little florets and wash well. If your broccoli crowns came with the stems attached, peel them, then chop them up into similar-sized pieces--they're delicious. Steam the broccoli until it is tender, but still green (not brownish), about 7 minutes.

When the shallots are ready, add the almonds to the skillet and cook until they get just a little bit of color, about 2 minutes. If everything is looking really dry at this point, add more butter. Add the broccoli to the pan, add salt and pepper to taste, and toss to combine. Add the lemon juice if you like.

Note: The broccoli can be steamed a few hours ahead of time, and the shallots can be softened a few hours ahead of time. When you're ready to serve the dish, rewarm the shallots on medium-low heat, increase the heat to medium-high and add the almonds, then add the broccoli and warm through.

Prawns or Shrimp with Tomato Confit, Garlic, and Chile

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

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

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

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

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

Prawns or Shrimp with Tomato Confit, Garlic, and Chile

(From Sunday Suppers at Lucques)

Serves 6

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

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


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


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


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


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


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


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


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


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

Yellow Tomato Confit

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

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


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


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


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


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

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.

**************************

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.)

Summer Squash Gratin, Grilled Pork Chops

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

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

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

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

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

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

 Summer Squash Gratin

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

Preheat the oven to 400 degrees.

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

Place the breadcrumbs in a bowl.

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

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

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

 

Grilled Pork Chops

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

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

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

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

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

Daring Cook's Challenge: Pate and Baguettes

Blog-checking lines: Our hostesses this month, Evelyne of Cheap Ethnic Eatz, and Valerie of a The Chocolate Bunny, chose delicious pate with freshly baked bread as their June Daring Cook’s challenge! They’ve provided us with 4 different pate recipes to choose from and are allowing us to go wild with our homemade bread choice.
 

I have to admit that I wasn't too crazy about the prospect of making this Daring Cook's challenge. Don't get me wrong--I love liver, as I discussed in a previous post. It's just that I knew Nick wouldn't want to eat it and there was no way I was going to be able to eat a chicken liver terrine the size of a whole loaf of bread.

Luckily, the perfect opportunity to dispose of said loaf came along in the form of a family party. As I've said before, my family loves liver, so they were quite willing to dispatch a whole lot of liveriness, no matter that it looked and smelled like dog food. No, seriously. It did.

Happily, this little experiment tasted better than it smelled. I might even consider making it again, particularly because the leftovers (and I promise you that there will be leftovers) can be divided into smaller portions, frozen, and defrosted at any time. I might even take a less sucky picture of it.

So what would I not do next time? Forget the Cognac. As I was tasting for seasoning, I kept thinking "Hmmm...Something's missing, but I can't quite put my finger on what it might be." It wasn't until it had been taken out of the oven to cool that I realized my error. I think that the Cognac would have perfectly provided that missing Something, but that's just too bad.


You know what else I wouldn't do? Taste for seasoning and decide that it needs a bit more cloves. The finished product tasted overwhelmingly of cloves, although nobody else seemed to mind. Note to self: the seasonings are perfect. Do not mess with them.


Part of the challenge was to make baguettes to serve as the plate-to-mouth vehicle, although my brother dispensed with such niceties. I of course decided to make Jim Lahey's recipe, which I've previously discussed here, and a post with the recipe is in the works.


The result? Curiously underwhelming. Next time I'll probably stick with either his standard recipe or his ciabatta recipe. Nonetheless, like I've said before, this bread will still impress your friends and family and buy you some love.

Chicken Liver Terrine

Yields one 25 by 12,5 cm (10 by 5 inch) terrine or loaf pan

-1 tablespoon duck fat, or butter
-2 onions, coarsely chopped
-300g (11 oz) chicken livers, trimmed
-3 tablespoon brandy, or any other liqueur

-100g (3 1/2 oz, 1/2 cup) smoked bacon, diced
-300g (11 oz) boneless pork belly, minced
-200g (7 oz) ground pork-2 shallots, chopped
-1 teaspoon quatre-épices (or 1/4tsp each of ground pepper, cloves, nutmeg and ginger is close enough)
-2 eggs
-200 ml (7 fl oz, 3/4 cup + 2 tbsp) heavy cream
-2 fresh thyme sprigs, chopped
-Salt and pepper

Preheat oven to 400 degrees F.

Melt the fat or butter in a heavy frying pan over low heat. Add the onions and cook, stirring occasionally, for 5 minutes, until softened. Add the chicken livers and cook, stirring frequently, for about 5 minutes, until browned but still slightly pink on the inside.

Remove the pan from heat. Pour in the brandy, light a match and carefully ignite the alcohol to flambé. Wait for the flames to go out on their own, carefully tilting the pan to ensure even flavoring. When the mixture has cooled slightly, transfer to a food processor and cop until finely minced.

Put the minced pork belly and ground pork in the food processor, then add the onion-liver mixture and the chopped shallots, and pulse until you obtain a homogenous mixture – make sure not to reduce it to a slurry.

Transfer to a bowl, and gradually stir in the chopped bacon, quatre-épices, cream, eggs, and thyme. Season with salt and pepper, and mix well. Spoon the mixture into a terrine or loaf pan, and cover with the terrine lid or with aluminum foil.

Prepare a water bath: place the loaf pan in a larger, deep ovenproof dish (such as a brownie pan or a baking dish). Bring some water to a simmer and carefully pour it in the larger dish. The water should reach approximately halfway up the loaf pan.

Put the water bath and the loaf pan in the oven, and bake for 2 hours. Uncover and bake for another 30 minutes. The terrine should be cooked through, and you should be able to slice into it with a knife and leave a mark, but it shouldn’t be too dry. Refrigerate, as this pâté needs to be served cold. Unmold onto a serving platter, cut into slices, and serve with bread.

NOTE: This pâté freezes well. Divide it into manageable portions, wrap tightly in plastic film, put in a freezer Ziploc bag, and freeze. Defrost overnight in the fridge before eating.

By the way--this guy was for another meal, but I'm wondering if maybe some people out there have some answers for me.

I seasoned him with some salt and pepper and stuffed him with some herbs (summer savory, oregano, and epazote) and lemon, brushed him with some oil, and attempted to grill him.

The meat was properly cooked and ultimately edible, but my problem was the skin sticking to the grill grates. I oiled the fish, which was apparently not the solution. Does anyone know how to prevent this? My other problem is a recurring one--the fish tasted a bit like propane. I don't have this problem with meats, just fish. Again--why? Help!

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.