EllenFork

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!

White Soup in a Dark Winter

(the lineup clockwise from left: white onion, turnip, celery root, russet potato, leek)

The bleak and barren days of January are upon us. Trees bereft of leaves and chilling winds are here for a few more months at least. The weather in DC has been beyond freezing for quite some time (although this weekend was finally over 30 degrees for a few days), causing cracked skin, chapped lips and and my transformation into the Michelin tire man. 17 layers are not flattering, especially when one is a layer of blubber my body thought would be "in" this season. It's not.

In light of my last statement, I found myself thumbing through Cooking Light magazine, hunting for something hearty, warming and... healthy. Strange concept, I know. My soul is crying out for springtime already, but until then I will have to console myself with steamy bowls of soups. At least I truly love winter vegetables, in all of their hideous, rooty glory. I like to think of these secret vegetables lurking beneath the surface, waiting to be harvested in the dead of winter and turned into cheerful, thawing meals.

This is where Soupe Savoyard enters the scene. This winter soup originated in the French Alps. Upon learning this, I was bombarded with images of rosy cheeked French swilling wine in front of the fire, in some highly perched ski chalet. Since I'm not there though, I will just have to make due with this lovely soup. It tastes creamy, peppery and earthy all at once. I made the soup according to the recipe for the most part, but next time there are a few changes I'd like to make: addition of fennel, a bouquet garni (bay leaf, thyme and sage tied together with twine) and use of Reblochon cheese (a cheese that hails from the French Alps region).

Winter Vegetable Soup (Soupe Savoyarde) from Cooking Light Jan 2009

1  russet potato, cut into (1/2-inch)
2  tablespoons  butter
1 1/2  cups  chopped white onion
3  cups  thinly sliced leek (about 3 large)
3/4  teaspoon  salt (I used more, these veggies tend to need extra)
1/4  teaspoon  freshly ground black pepper (also used more than recommended, it really adds something)
2  turnips, peeled and cut into (1/2-inch) cubes
1  small celery root, peeled and cut into (1/2-inch) cubes
2  cups  water
2  cups  whole milk
8  (1-ounce) slices French bread
8  (1/2-ounce) slices sharp white cheddar (I used Gruyére for this, especially since the origin of this recipe is French)

1. Peel and dice the potato. Submerse cubes in cold water and let sit.

2. Melt butter in a dutch oven. (I subbed a heavy bottom pot for this) Add onions and cook until soft but not browned. Add leeks, turnips, celery root, salt and pepper. Cover the top of the pot with aluminum foil. Set heat to low, cover and let sit for 15 min, stirring occasionally. 

4. When the vegetables have started to tenderize, add the potatoes and water. Cover and simmer on low heat until all vegetables are tender. I beleive that the potatoes are added at this point so they do not totally disintegrate- the other vegetables are a little crisper and need the extra time in the pot.

5. Heat milk in a small saucepan until there are tiny little bubbles around the edges. DO NOT BOIL THE MILK. When hot, gradually stir into the vegetable/water mixture. Remove from heat and add salt/pep to taste.

 

6. Take your slices of French bread and broil them. Do not leave unattended, they'll burn in a matter of seconds! Take it from me... When they are nice and brown, put one or two on the bottom of a bowl, add a slice of cheese and top with soup.

7. I added one or two  shreds of cheese on top and a grind of pepper.

8. Eat it up! Don't burn your tongue, and remember to share.

So, while this soup is not glamorous in nature, it brings to mind images of soft white snow, flames licking pine logs and the chatter of friends keeping warm indoors. I also imagine they've all had a lot of regional white wine to drink, and are attempting to play charades. Maybe you should try that, too.  

Enjoy!
 

Hot Chili Chocolate Wishes (pt 2)

Once again, I would like to share my favorite flavor combination with you, gentle readers. Sweet and savory/spicy. Eating something that starts sweet and ends spicy is like when you're petting your sister's cat on it's underbelly and then it chomps you out of nowhere. But pleasant. That might not be the best analogy, but I think you know what I mean. Complex layers of flavor do it for me every time, especially when there's a mild kick in the snoot at the end. Also, it is incredibly, horribly freezing cold here (and in many parts of the country), so this should warm you up inside and out!

I think you will not be disappointed in the following recipe, which I concocted from many different sources to suit my needs. After this you'll never turn to that skank Swiss Miss again. So snug up and sip on this creamy concoction, sprawled on a bearskin rug in front of the fire. Or wherever.

Hot Chili Chocolate

This makes enough to serve two. I sort of made up these measurements, but it's something to go on. You can judge how chocolatey/milky/spicy you'd like it to be and adjust accordingly.

1-2 dried chilis (I recommend cutting it open or cutting them into a few big pieces to get more flavor)
1 tablespoon sugar
4 ounces high-quality bittersweet chocolate (I used Ghirardelli's 70% cacao, sweetened), chopped
2 cups whole milk
pinch of salt
dash of cinnamon (optional)

Combine all ingredients in a saucepan over medium-low heat. Stir until chocolate is completely melted and milk is steaming. Do not boil it, though.

Serve with homemade marshmallows and snuggle your sweetie.

Marshmallow Dreams (pt 1)

I've been trying desperately to get to this post, since Hot Chocolate is such a Christmas-y treat, but I was too busy flopping around and being spoiled by my parents to get around to posting over the holidays. Sorry guys, but guess what! There are still at LEAST 3 months of miserable cold in which to snuggle up and drink this delicious hot chocolate. So, don't worry my pets.

Anyway, I forget where I got the notion to make my own marshmallows, but as soon as I looked up the recipe, I had to do it. These marshmallows are not yo' momma's "Stay Puft", chewy grocery aisle treats. They are tender and moist, and somehow complex (even though they are 90% sugar). And best of all, they are remarkably easier than you'd think. Everyone should just whip up a batch and wow your family and friends, immediately.

This recipe for Homemade Marshmallows is from the July 2008 Bon Appetit, written by Molly Wizenburg (who is turning out to be a big favorite/inspiration for me! See last week's post on paté).

 

Homemade Marshmallows

Bon Appetit, July 2008 by Molly Wizenberg

Ingredients:

Nonstick vegetable oil spray
1 cup cold water, divided
3 1/4-ounce envelopes unflavored gelatin
2 cups sugar
2/3 cup light corn syrup
1/4 teaspoon salt
2 teaspoons vanilla extract
1/2 cup potato starch (I didn't even use this. It's fine without, or with cornstarch if you have it)
1/2 cup powdered sugar

IMPORTANT:

This recipe recommends using a stand mixer. I do not have one and used a hand mixer instead. Let me just say, this works, but a stand mixer is much preferred. The marshmallow mixture creeps up the beaters and tries to get into the machinery of your mixer. Plus, who wants to hold those in there for 15 minutes? Just wanted to throw that out there before anyone got too involved. Ok, proceed.

Line 13x9x2-inch metal baking pan with foil. 

Coat foil lightly with nonstick spray. Pour 1/2 cup cold water into bowl of heavy-duty mixer fitted with whisk attachment. Sprinkle gelatin over water. Let stand until gelatin softens and absorbs water, at least 15 minutes.

Combine 2 cups sugar, corn syrup, salt, and remaining 1/2 cup cold water in heavy medium saucepan. Stir over mediumlow heat until sugar dissolves, brushing down sides of pan with wet pastry brush. I wasn't really sure about this step... I just have a silicon basting brush that I swished around at the sides, but it didn't really acheive much. The goo still stuck to the sides, but it came off with some hot water.

Attach candy thermometer to side of pan. I don't have one of these, so I just held my digi-thermometer in there, making sure not to touch the hot bottom of the pan. Increase heat and bring syrup to boil. Boil, without stirring, until syrup reaches 240°F, about 8 minutes.

With mixer running at low speed, slowly pour hot syrup into gelatin mixture in thin stream down side of bowl (avoid pouring syrup onto whisk, as it may splash). Gradually increase speed to high and beat until mixture is very thick and stiff, about 15 minutes. It will basically look like Marshmallow Fluff (mmmmmmmm flufffff). Add vanilla and beat to blend, about 30 seconds longer.

Scrape marshmallow mixture into prepared pan. Smooth top with wet spatula. Let stand uncovered at room temperature until firm, about 4 hours.

Stir potato starch and powdered sugar in small bowl to blend. Sift generous dusting of starch-sugar mixture onto work surface, forming rectangle slightly larger than 13x9 inches. Turn marshmallow slab out onto starch-sugar mixture; peel off foil. It will have this great elastic feel. You will be tempted to play with it.

Sift more starch-sugar mixture over marshmallow slab. Coat large sharp knife (or cookie cutters) with nonstick spray. I used a cookie cutter, which worked really well. Cut marshmallows into squares or other shapes (like what?!? I can only think of one hilarious cookie cutter shape left over from my sister's bachelorette party). Toss each in remaining starch-sugar mixture to coat. Transfer marshmallows to rack, shaking off excess mixture.

Throw these little guys into some rich, hot chocolate and bask in your (perceived) culinary talents. 

So why is this Part 1? Because Part 2 is coming up. And you're going to like it.

 

Country Gets Fancy

Every year I attend a Christmas party at the home of family friends. The hosts have been wonderful friends for a long time, and I've been attending this party for the past 25 years. They finally let me out of the kids' room a few years ago, and ever since then I've been partaking in some of the most wonderful Christmas food traditions. Rich creamy Egg Nog in a silver punch bowl, sweet potato biscuits and yeast rolls with country ham and turkey, homemade mayonnaise, oyster dip, spinach artichoke dip, a round of Stilton bigger than your head, Brie en Croute, smoked Salmon and ... French Country Paté.

Pâté de Campagne, French Country Pâté, is a fulled cooked porcine treat, a pilgrimage (PIG-rimage?) for meat lovers all over the world. When was the last time you consumed an hors d'ourve with three different varieties of the same beast lovingly incorporated? It is so decadent, so savory and so French. It is elegant and rustic  at the same time, a delicate balancing act. You must respect this loaf of meat.

In a recent issue of Bon Appetít, Molly Wizenburg wrote a ode to the Country Paté that deeply resonated with me. What is it about paté, that smorgasboard of meat, the richly fatty treat that makes carnivores slobber in their sleep? A chicken liver paté, or a country paté- or even down to the basic purity of foi gras (and the same earthy essence) is a rare treat. This is why, when faced with a recipe resembling the exact pate de campagne of the cherished Christmas Eve Party, I knew I must recreate it for New Years 2009. We've had a long year y'all. It was fitting that the new year begin with an especially feasty dinner party to shake off the stench of (economic) failure and usher in a fresh start.

I made this paté for a group of friends whom I felt would surely appreciate it- and boy, did they! Slather a slab of this pâté on some baguette with a little dijon and accompany with a cornichon. Heavenly!

The following is Molly Wizenburg's recipe from Bon Appetít (January 2009), with my own commentary. Enjoy!

Pâté de Campagne (Country Pâté)

INGREDIENTS:

3/4 cup Cognac (I used Brandy, for cost reasons. I'm sure it made no difference)
3 tablespoons unsalted butter
1 cup minced onion (mince this up good, don't be lazy- it should be fine like the minced garlic you buy in the jar)
2 1/2 pounds ground pork (I used 2 lb and did not change any other measurements. It was perfect)
12 oz bacon (8 to 10 slices), finely chopped, plus 14 bacon slices (for lining pan)
3 garlic cloves, pressed
2 1/2 teaspoons salt
2 1/2 teaspoons dried thyme
1 1/2 teaspoons allspice
1 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper
2 large eggs, lightly beaten
1/3 cup whipping cream
 1 6-ounce piece ham steak, cut crosswise into 1/4-inch-thick strips
 

ADDITIONAL:

Coarse sea salt
Cornichons
Dijon mustard

Set rack at lowest position in oven and preheat to 350°F. Boil Cognac until reduced to 1/2 cup, about 1 1/2 minutes. The Cognac (or Brandy) will appear slightly more syrupy at this point. Cool completely.

Melt butter in heavy medium skillet over medium heat. Add those minced up onions and sauté until soft and translucent but not brown, about 8 minutes.

Combine ground pork and chopped bacon in large bowl. Using fork or fingertips (I just reached right in there and mixed it around. It's natural.), mix together until well blended. Add sautéed onion, garlic, 2 1/2 teaspoons salt, thyme, allspice, and pepper to bowl with pork mixture and stir until incorporated (I used a spoons for this portion). Add eggs, cream, and reduced Cognac. Stir until well blended.

Line 9x5x3-inch metal loaf pan with bacon slices, arranging 8 slices across width of pan and 3 slices on each short side of pan and overlapping pan on all sides. I actually used less bacon than recommended here, based upon the size of the strips I was using. Just make sure that all metal parts of the pan are covered and that you've maintained some semblance of neat bacon overlap (it will matter in the ultimate appearance).

SPECIAL TRICK: Following the lead of whoever makes the fantastic Christmas Eve Paté, I created a nifty little design with sage and thyme. Simply arrange the herbs in an aesthetically pleasing way and layer bacon over it gently, and press down. 

Now, using hands, lightly and evenly press half of meat mixture (about 3 1/4 cups) onto bottom of pan atop bacon slices. Arrange ham strips over in single layer. Top with remaining meat mixture. Don't be scared at the amount of meat, just make sure the bacon covers it. The meat will be higher than the rims of the pan at this point, but that's ok.

Fold bacon slices over, covering pâté. They will naturally overlap, but may leave some space. I saved one piece of bacon to cover any place where the bacon didn't meet in the middle. Cover pan tightly with foil. Place pan in 13x9x2-inch metal baking pan and transfer to oven. Pour boiling water into baking pan to come halfway up sides of loaf pan. Bake pâté until a thermometer inserted through foil into center registers 155°F, about 2 hours 15 minutes. It took about 20 min more for mine, this may be because of the inconsistent nature of my oven.

Remove loaf pan from baking pan and transfer to rimmed baking sheet. Place heavy skillet or 2 to 3 heavy cans atop pâté to weigh down. This is where the meat overflow is taken care of, it's pure magic. Chill overnight. Can be made 4 days ahead.
 

TO FINISH:Place loaf pan with pâté in larger pan of hot water for about 3 minutes. Invert pâté onto platter; discard fat from platter and wipe clean. Cut pâté crosswise into 1/2-inch slices.

Serve with cornichons, coarse kosher salt, dijon mustard and baguettes. Smile, be happy.