EllenFork

Weird, Wild Food: Fiddleheads

See those things in that picture up there? They're not alien tentacles, if that's what you're thinking. In fact they are plant matter: Fiddlehead Ferns. They are baby ferns that have not yet unfurled their little leaves. I remember first seeing them in my grandmother's wildflower garden in the front of her house. She took me out there and showed them to me, nestled amongst the other native foliage, curled up like little snails.

I was probably about 5 years old, but I remember thinking how funny and wild they were, these little plants that looked like animals growing out of the soil. Most of my memories of my grandmother revolve around her growing and nurturing things, myself included. She grew sunflowers and jack-in-the-pulpit, all kinds of herbs, a raspberry patch and wild Tennessee flowers. She and my grandpa had a huge garden in the 2 acres behind their house, where they grew anything you could think of- potatoes, tomatoes, corn, cabbage, lettuce, lima beans, squash everything. Some of my earliest memories are of running through the rows with cornstalks towering above me, kicking thick clumps of  dirt and staring into the blue sky, framed with green leaves and the silky tops of the corn. When I think of my grandmother I think of the earth, of the heady feeling of watching something grow from the soil and knowing that there are many secrets hiding within.

Now I'm older, but still looking for secrets. There are so many wild and wonderful things out there! One of them being these out-of-this-world looking ferns in the picture above. I picked up these little monsters from Far West Fungi, located in the Ferry Building in San Francisco. The friendly woman behind the counter there gave me an ice pack and wrapped them up nicely for their trip back to DC. Although I tossed the ice pack before airport security (and no one asked me any questions about the suspicious plants in my purse) they braved the trip from Cali unscathed. Unfortunately for them, their luck had run out and they were promptly submersed in boiling water upon arrival.

The recipe below is adapted from one of Emeril's recipes- he is from New England where fiddleheads are plentiful. I added extra truff oil, because let's be real here... THE MORE TRUFFLES THE BETTER. But even with all the truffles in the world, you still might not totally love fiddlehead ferns. That's right, they're cool, but they also taste kind of like grass. They definitely taste like they came from some rich, loamy soil in the woods somewhere. And just so you know, make sure that you cook them thoroughly. Apparently they are somewhat toxic when raw and can cause stomach pain. So, yeah. That being said, if you find some ferns, give them a try at least once- they appear for a limited time only each year.

Fiddlehead Ferns and Truffle Pasta

Ingredients:

• 1 lb Fiddlehead Ferns, trimmed and washed
• 1 lb angel hair pasta
• 2 green onions
• 2 tbsp olive oil
• t tsp red pepper flakes
• 2 tbsp black truffle oil
• salt, pepper to taste
• grated parmesan to taste

Directions:

Fill a pot with salted water and bring to a boil. Prepare a bowl of ice water.

Wash the fiddlhead ferns and trim their ends. They are kind of like asparagus- their ends get a bit dry and woody after a while.When the water is boiling, drop in fiddlehead ferns and blanch for about 4-5 minutes. Make sure they are crisp-tender but cooked through. Using a slotted spoon, transfer ferns from boiling water to ice water.

Add angel hair pasta to the same pot, and cook until tender, about 10 min (or follow package directions).
Chop the green onions. In a large skillet, heat 2 tablespoons of olive oil. Drain and add ferns and onions to skillet. Add red pepper flakes and saute for about 2 minutes.

Drain pasta and add directly to skillet. Toss with truffle oil, salt and pepper. Serve in bowls and top with freshly grated parm.

EAT IT.

Simple is the New Complicated

There are some things in life that are both blissfully simple and completely satisfying at the same time. For instance, Spaghetti with Braised Kale. Everything about it is hearty and flavorful, but so simple to concoct. In fact, the reason for concocting it was that I happened to have very little left in my pantry before my trip to San Francisco (which you will all hear about later!).

I came across this recipe months ago in Molly Wizenberg's Cooking Life column in Bon Appetit mag. Her dishes are so simple (often consisting of only a handful of ingredients) but always so elegant and purposeful. This one was no different. However, I am a meat-eater by nature, and this dish is a bit lacking in the protein department... I began to hunt the wild jungle of my cupboard. What canned beast awaited me, in the shadows of the hot sauce? What elusive creature sat dustily in a forgotten crevice, between the rice vinegar and liquid smoke?!

Ah HA! What do we have here, lurking within? Garbanzo beans, of course. I buy a can at least every other time I go to the store, as I devour these little guys like popcorn...and ironically, this is almost what they became during the course of this dish. Fried chickpeas are SO EASY and SO CRAVEABLE, it's ridiculous. So without stalling any longer, I will tell you how to make Spaghetti with Braised Kale and Fried Chickpeas.

Spaghetti with Braised Kale                                                                                                original recipe by Molly Wizenberg, Bon Appetit October 2009

Ingredients:

• 1 lb kale, large center ribs and stems removed, cut crosswise into 1/2 slices
• 3 tbsp olive oil
• 1 medium onion, finely chopped
• 8 garlic cloves             
• 1/2 lb spaghetti (I used whole wheat)
• 2 tsp fresh lemon juice
• Finely grated Parmesan Cheese

So, Molly recommends lacinto kale, but that is not always readily available. I used regular curly kale, which was totally fine. Whatever kale you can get your paws on, rinse it well. Drain and transfer to a bowl, with water still clinging to the leaves.

In a large heavy pot, heat 2 tbsp olive oil over medium heat. Add chopped onion, cooking until translucent and stirring occasionally. Add sliced garlic and sprinkle with salt. Cook until onion turns golden brown, continuing to stir occasionally. Add kale and the remaining 1 tbsp olive oil, using tongs to toss until wilted. Cover pot and reduce heat to medium-low. Feel free to cook this kale into submission, until extremely tender. Stir occasionally and add water by teaspoonfuls if it becomes dry.

In the meantime, boil a medium pot of salted water. Cook spaghetti until tender, but slightly firm when you chomp it. Using tongs, transfer pasta directly into the kale pot. Add lemon juice and a splash or two of the reserved pasta water. Toss to combine and add more liquid to your liking. Sprinkle spaghetti with grated parmesan cheese, fried chickpeas (see below), a grind of fresh black pepper and serve immediately.  

          

Fried Chickpeas

Ingredients

• 1 can garbanzo beans, drained and painstakingly patted dry
• olive oil
• lemon zest
• sea salt

Rinse and drain the garbanzo beans. The really key step here is to make sure the garbanzo beans are VERY dry; this is what gives them the all-important crisp factor. I spin mine in a salad spinner, then lay them out on a paper towel to dry off. If you like, you may remove some of the translucent shells, though they often come off during this process anyway. If you are feeling lazy (and not dedicated to ultimate crispness, cough cough), just make sure they are not wet to the touch and get on with it.

In a skillet (I used my cast iron), generously pour olive oil, enough to thickly coat the bottom of the pan. heat on medium heat. When oil is hot, pour in chick peas, making sure to avoid splattering yourself with the oil. At this point I added salt and just let them do their thing, making sure to stir frequently. Let them get nice and browned- about 15 minutes. Don't forget about them, or you'll have unpleasantly charred chickpeas.

When the garbanzos have sufficiently browned, transfer them to a bowl. Sprinkle with a bit more sea salt, to taste and add the zest of a lemon. Stir, and snack. Add them to all kinds of dishes in need of crunch, like the above pasta dish, or just inhale them on their own. ADDICTIVE!!

Enjoy the simplicity and bright flavors (thanks, lemon!) of these two items separately or together... you won't regret it!

Pasta Magic

Where does food come from? This is an honest question. To many people in our society, the answer to this question is a complete mystery. Just go to the grocery and pick up your dinner, already made, or the ingredients that have already been prepared. No sign of dirt, livestock, or anything else remains on the pristine food you pick up at the local chain.

Until Saturday, I thought pasta rained from the sky, or grew from Pasta trees in Italy. When I picture Rome, I envision beautiful avenues lined with large trees, draped with pasta waving in the wind. What a wonderful, beautiful scene... ok fine I didn't really think that (although how awesome would that be?!), but how often do you think about actually MAKING pasta?! Clearly, some of you beautiful, food loving readers have made your own pasta, but for me this is a novel concept.

When I was home last, my mother offered me the gift of her 30 year old pasta machine. Still in it's original packaging, complete with instructions in Italian (only), this shiny little monster was set to blow my mind. Apparently, when she and my father were first married, they bought this very same pasta machine, cranking out fancy pasta in the middle of '80s era Nashville, TN. Naturally, they hung it on the shower curtain rod to dry. I don't judge.

So as soon as I got my hot little hands on this machine, the game was on. I went through my cookbooks, hunting the perfect recipe. New Basics offered a decently easy recipe. Cafe at Chez Panisse offered a hilariously complicated version. Finally, I googled it and came up with a Mario Batali recipe that included 3 ingredients: the magical number. Below you will find a recipe for greatness and surely a recipe for success, no matter your pasta making skill level.

Enjoy this picture of my tiny kitchen:

Basic Pasta Dough
Recipe by Mario Batali

3 1/2 to 4 cups all-purpose flour
4 extra-large eggs
1/2 teaspoon extra-virgin olive oil

Mound 3 1/2 cups of the flour in the center of a large wooden cutting board. Make a well in the middle of the flour and add the eggs and olive oil. Using a fork, beat together the eggs and oil and begin to incorporate the flour, starting with the inner rim of the well. As you expand the well, keep pushing the flour up from the base of the mound to retain the well shape. Do not let the egg mixture breach the well walls...at one point I was holding it together with one hand and beating the eggs with the other.

The dough will come together when half of the flour is incorporated. At this point, start kneading the dough with both hands, using the palms of your hands.

Once there is a cohesive mass, remove the dough from the board and scrape up and discard any leftover bits. Lightly reflour the board and continue kneading for 6 more minutes. The dough should be elastic and a little sticky. If the dough seems dry, or is not holding together well, add water by the tablespoon until the desired consistency is reached. I definitely had to add 3 tbsp or so (I wasn't measuring, sorry).

Wrap the dough in plastic and allow to rest for 30 minutes at room temperature.This allows the gluten to relax (which I think is a bit lazy, but no big deal).

Now cut the dough into about six pieces. Roll through your pasta machine at the widest setting, doubling the pressed dough back on itself and re-rolling. Do this 3-4 times. If dough is sticking, lightly flour it. Adjust to a narrower setting, then roll through the pasta cutting attachment, if you have one. If not, lay pasta sheet flat and slice into thin strips. Noodles!!!

Cook fresh pasta in boiling, salted water for 3-5 minutes.

I enjoyed this fresh pasta with garlic, olive oil, fresh basil, artichoke hearts, zucchini and lots of pecorino romano. Mmm mm good!

Photo credits from this post go to Sean Wallace

Your Non-Italian, Non-Grandmother's Potato Gnocchi

So, I am not Italian and I am CERTAINLY not your Grandmother. You've probably picked up on both those things by now. But I'll damned if I don't love gnocchi like an Italian grandmother. So simple, but so incredibly comforting. Potatoes in pillowy, dumpling form, topped with an array of inviting sauces (have I mentioned how much I love sauce?!?! I think that my love of sauce deserves an entire post, more on that later.)

I can trace this love back to my first experience with gnocchi as a child, at Sole Mio in downtown Nashville. This was my first taste of REAL Italian food. Started by a Northern Italian husband and American wife team, they hit Nashville like a starchy, saucy hurricane in the mid '90s. I dined there quite often with my family as a child, and vividly remember my first taste of gnocchi. I ordered gnocchi with the walnut pesto, and it just about blew my mind. THESE WERE POTATOES?!!?! OMG (or whatever we said instead of OMG  at that time)!!! Is it pasta? Is it potato? WHO CARES, GIVE ME MORE OF IT!

I just knew how hilariously delicious it was. Here is my attempt at making it, based off of several recipes from which I cherry-picked ingredients and methods. (Note: That's how I make a lot of recipes, simply through reading a lot of them and deciding how to make them based upon ingredients I have and like, and methods that seem feasible. It really works out to my advantage, I find.)

Potato Gnocchi

2 lbs Russet Potatoes (2-3 large ones)
About 2 cups all-purpose flour
2 lightly beaten eggs
2-3 tsp sea salt

1. Throw those unpeeled taters into some cold, salted water. Cover them and boil until cooked all the way through. Make sure they are tender throughout when you savagely poke them with a fork during the cooking process.

2. Remove p'taters from heat and peel them while warm. Don't burn yourself, these guys will be steaming hot. Here is the point where methods differ: if you have a food mill or potato ricer like most of my married friends, use that. If you are single like me and have probably one or two mistmatched forks to your name, use those to mash up the taties on a work surface. Let them cool a bit.

3. Ok so now you have a pile of hopefully loose and fluffy potato. Gather them into a mound and create a well in the middle. Pour lightly beaten eggs into the well, with salt. Sift flour on top.

**At this point, put on another pot of salted water to boil. This will be for the gnocchi***

4. Fold ingredients together thoroughly, making sure egg and flour are evenly distributed with the potatoes. Do not be scared of the amount of flour, even though the dough might start to feel dry. Just make sure the flour is completely mixed in with the potato and you will be fine. If you don't add enough flour, your gnocchi will turn into mush while cooking. True story.

5. Once you've mixed all ingredients together evenly, separate into about four balls. Roll each ball into a long "snake". Cut it into about 1/4 in. pieces.

6. Use a fork to create indentations on one side of the gnocchi, pushing against your finger to form a curve on the other side.

7. Dunk a batch of gnocchi (prob 10-15 at a time) into the boiling water. They'll sink before they swim. When they pop to the surface after about a minute, give them another 2-3 minutes to cook through. You don't want them to become overcooked and squishy.

8. Use a slotted spoon to remove them from the water and let them drain in a colander for a few moments. Add to desired sauce and serve.

I used a very, very simple "sauce" for my gnocchi.

Thyme Butter

2 tblsp butter
some dried thyme

Melt butter, brown slightly. Add thyme. Toss in the gnocchi and grate some parmaggiano romano on top.

Seriously, this is easier than I thought it would be, but it is not without some trials and errors. I urge you all to try, try and try again. You'll be glad you did!