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

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

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

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

Ratatouille

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Grill Bread

I love reading other people's blogs. They can be so inspiring, in the sense that they make me want to cook lots of yummy stuff, immediately. They can also inspire a fit of mopey doldrums in which I think that in comparison, my photos and writing suck. But that's enough of that talk.

In the inspiring arena is Molly Watson's grill bread. She posted the recipe on her blog The Dinner Files. and in this post, she likens this bread to crack. That right there was intriguing, as we recently deemed some blueberry bars 'crack.'

Now, we didn't really need any more crack in our lives, especially as we were given some delicious raspberry bars from a friend--they were 'crack's cousin.' But Molly also wrote that a friend of hers had begged her not to make this bread. That sealed the deal. I mean, it has to be awesome if someone is begging you not to make it, right? In this case, yes.

Well, this bread was rather crack-like. Especially the pieces that did not drip through the grill grates, meld themselves to the metal, and carbonize. Molly's probably got mad skills because her grill bread, in her beautifully shot photo, looks amazing. Ours, not so much. We found that this whole grill bread thing has a steep learning curve. But by the time we had gotten to the end of the (huge) batch, we had it pretty much figured out.

Here's what we learned:
The dough that I made was waaaaay too wet. If I make it again, I'll probably use 7 cups of flour. Or 3 1/2, because it makes a lot of bread, so I might cut the recipe in half. Or, I might just try kneading it a lot longer.
I was more successful when the dough was rather dry and firm, because otherwise it plooged down between the grates of the grill.

A good coating of flour helps prevent sticking.
Grill the bread, at least to start, over indirect heat. If you put it directly over the flames (unless you manage to stretch it really thin), the outside will burn before the inside is cooked. Thin is good, by the way. I made my pieces too thick, so it was difficult to get them fully cooked without blackening the outside.

This bread is absolutely heavenly with some olive oil. It's also good with a fresh tomato. I also made an herby bean dip, which I may post here later, that was a nice pairing.

Grill Bread

(From The Dinner Files)

• 1 teaspoon active dry yeast
• 1 cup milk
• 6 cups all-purpose flour
• 1 Tablespoon kosher salt
• Olive oil for brushing
• Coarse salt for sprinkling (don’t kid yourself, this is *not* optional)

Dissolve yeast in 2 cups lukewarm water. Stir in 1 cup lukewarm milk.

Stir in flour and salt until a dough forms (this is great to do in a standing mixer with a dough hook, if you have one). If doing this by hand, you may need to turn the dough out onto a counter and knead it to work in all the flour.

Lightly oil a large bowl and put the dough in it. Cover with a clean kitchen towel and let sit to let dough rise until doubled in bulk, 8 hours or overnight.

Punch down the dough and let it sit another hour.

Meanwhile, brush your cooking grate with vegetable oil. Heat your grill to medium to medium-hot. You should be able to hold your hand about an inch over the cooking grate for two minutes second or so before it just feels way too hot. Don’t worry too much about this, however. Grill bread isn’t fussy.

Divide the dough into ten pieces. Work with one piece at a time and stretch it into a disk of some sort – oblong is cool, round is fine, crazy-shaped is always popular. Lay whatever shaped dough disk you have on the hot grill. Repeat with remaining pieces of dough.

Creamless Creamed Corn

This just might be the best way I've ever found to eat fresh corn. Corn on the cob is great and all, but it sort of gets stuck in your teeth, and you end up with butter all over your face and the cobs tend to clutter up your plate.

As an alternative, I like the Golden Corn Chowder and the Corn Fritters that we've made this summer, but sometimes you just need some almost-plain corn.

That's where this recipe comes in. If you don't like cream, it's perfect; and if you feel like you just can't make creamed corn without cream, then you just need to give this a chance. Nick used to be in the cream-hating camp, and he was skeptical when told that this was on the menu. As he learned, though, this recipe is heavenly.

The corn  is enriched with a little bit of butter and some thickened corn milk. And because of the corn milk, this corn tastes even corny-er than just plain old corn. It's like corn squared; it's like pure sunshine and summer; it's like the satisfying richness of regular creamed corn without the fat greasy feeling that sometimes follows its consumption.

The basil just adds to that whole sunshine-y summery thing, and like I alluded to before, this version of creamed corn will not put you in a food coma. Food comas are rather undesirable in the summertime, don't you think?

The first time you make this recipe, you might think that it is a bit time consuming. However, this is one of those recipes that as you make it repeatedly, it seems to get easier and easier. But, even if it remains time consuming, I promise it's worth it.

Creamless Creamed Corn

(Adapted from Epicurious

Origninally from Craft)

• 12 ears of fresh corn
• 1 1/2 tablespoons unsalted butter
• 1 small yellow onion, peeled and diced
• Kosher salt and freshly ground black pepper
• 2 tablespoons finely sliced fresh basil

Shuck half the corn and remove the kernels from the cobs. Place the corn in a blender and discard the cobs and husks. Purée the corn with 1/3 cup water. Press the purée through a fine sieve and reserve.

Transfer the strained corn purée into a double boiler set over barely simmering water. Cook gently, stirring frequently, until the liquid thickens to the consistency of heavy cream, about 20 minutes. Season the purée with salt and pepper.
Meanwhile, shuck the remaining corn, cut the kernels from the cobs, and reserve. Melt the butter in a large, high-sided skillet over medium heat. Add the onion and salt and cook until the onion begins to soften, about 10 minutes. Add the reserved corn, salt, and 1/2 cup of water. Cook, stirring occasionally, until the corn is almost tender, about 7 minutes.

Remove the corn and onion mixture from the heat and stir in the corn cream. Add the basil and adjust the seasoning if necessary with salt and pepper.

Tomato Tart

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

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

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

Tomato Tart

Crust

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

Filling

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

Preheat oven to 425°F with rack in middle.

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

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

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

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

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

Optional-drizzle with balsamic vinegar to serve.

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

Corn Fritters, Home-Ground Burgers, Caramelized Onions

It's summer, so all I want is corn, corn, corn. Well, not really. But with highly seasonal ingredients, I like to eat copious amounts of them--to the point where I've totally OD'd and don't even want to think about said ingredient any more.

You see, that way, I don't mind that whatever I'm binging on is highly seasonal and I won't be eating it again for almost a year. No problem! I don't want to anyway! No pining for tomatoes with basil in the middle of January. Nope, I'm okay with some Brussels sprouts, sweet potatoes, and winter squash.

So how was I to eat this corn? We had already made our Golden Corn Chowder, and I wasn't in the mood to make the Creamless Creamed Corn (coming soon). In fact, I wanted something all-new, something all made-up.

As you may know, I have a zucchini fritter problem. I'm almost successfully rehabilitated, so I figure it's time for a corn fritter addiction. Bring it on.

Corn Fritters

• 6 ears of corn, the kernels cut off
• 1/2 tablespoon salt
• 1/4 teaspoon cayenne
• 1/2 teaspoon cumin
• 1/4 teaspoon white pepper
• 2 eggs
• 1/4 cup flour
• 1/4 cup sour cream
• 1 jalapeno, finely diced
• 1 red bell pepper, finely diced
• 2 scallions, light and dark green parts, finely sliced
• Hot sauce (optional)

Place the corn kernels in a large bowl. Add the salt, pepper, and cayenne, and cumin, and taste for seasoning. Add the eggs, flour, and sour cream, and mix to incorporate. Add the jalapeno, pepper and scallions and mix again.

In a large skillet, heat 1-2 tablespoons canola oil over medium heat. When the oil is shimmering, drop the batter into the skillet to make fritters that are about 4 inches in diameter. Cook until the very outer edges start to look dry; some bubbles may appear. This will likely take about 6 minutes, and when flipped, the fritter should appear golden brown.

Cook on the other side until light golden, about 3 minutes.

I like to serve them with hot sauce and sour cream.

 We enjoyed these with home-ground burgers, which were awesome. As you probably know, store-bought ground meat should not be served medium-rare or medium because all the bacteria that was on the outside is now on the inside where it's multiplying exponentially. Therefore, unless the ground meat product is cooked all the way through, you may get some dangerous nastiness in your meal.

However, if you buy a big hunk of meat and grind it at home, using sanitary technique, of course, then you can eat the ground meat product even if it's cooked to medium-rare or medium.

For this reason, I invested in the inexpensive grinder for the Kitchenaid stand mixer. I'm not a fan of dried out, killed burgers, and it's not a good idea to order 'undercooked' burgers when out in a restaurant. So I figured I'll do it at home.

In fact, this batch was accidentally cooked to medium-well, and they were still better than the average burger, most likely because we used quality meat and treated it right.

So if you decide to get a grinder attachment, here's how to make some yummy burgers:

Home-Ground Burgers

• 1/2 pounds chuck
• Salt
• Freshly ground black pepper

Cut the chuck into 1-inch pieces. Season the meat with salt and freshly ground pepper. Place on a parchment-lined sheet pan, and place in the freezer for about 30 minutes. When the meat is firm to the touch but not frozen through, pass it through the grinder.

Gently form the meat into patties. You don't want to over handle the meat, as it will make the burgers less tender. Grill to the desired doneness. Serve with your favorite fixin's.

We served ours with the standard lettuce, tomato, and raw onion. We also had bacon, because we can. Aaaaannd, we had Nick's awesome caramelized onions, otherwise known as 'tadpoles.' Here's how to make them:

Nick's Awesome Caramelized Onions

(a.k.a. "Tadpoles")

Cut an onion or two into thin slices. I read somewhere that if you go along the lines of the onion, then you break fewer cells, so you get less sulpher-y tasting slices. I don't know if that's true, but that's what we do.

In a small pan, melt a tablespoon of butter. When the foaming has subsided, add the onions. In a few minutes, add 1/2 teaspoon salt and a teaspoon of sugar. Cook the onions over very low heat for at least 40 minutes, and up to an hour or two. Stir occasionally, and add a little bit more butter if the onions start to dry out. The onions are done when they are a deep golden color, and they're so tender they're almost melting. Or until you're just sick of cooking them.

 

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.

Another Favorite Sauce: Basil Pesto

I can't even think of sufficient superlatives for this super sauce. I just love it. I could talk about how it's so summery, delicious, versatile, blah, blah, blah. But you probably already know all that.

So here's a great recipe for this Italian classic. I love to make quadruple batches and freeze them in little portions, much like I do with Romesco. They defrost quickly, so that you can have quick shot of summer in the icy depths of winter...you know.

Basil Pesto

• 2 cups (packed) fresh basil leaves
• 1 garlic clove
• 1/2 teaspoon salt, plus more to taste
• 1/4 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper, plus more to taste
• Scant 1/2 cup freshly grated Parmesan cheese
• About 1/3 cup good-quality extra-virgin olive oil
• 1/4 cup toasted pine nuts

In a blender or food processor, pulse the basil, garlic, salt, pepper, and Parmesan cheese until finely chopped. With the motor running, gradually add enough oil to form a smooth, thick paste. Transfer to a bowl and stir in the pine nuts. Season to taste with salt and pepper.
When storing this pesto, press plastic wrap onto its surface so that minimal discoloration occurs.
Can also be frozen for at least 6 months.