Bulgur Pilaf with Corn & Zucchini…with a Vibrant Late Season Tomato Compote

Last month, a friend who has access to an amazing vegetable garden brought me a mountain of beautiful tomatoes…literally hot off the vines.  They were so ripe there was no waiting; the moment to use them was now.  

Of course I wanted to preserve most of them in some way (I have written of many things that can be done to preserve the late summer abundance of tomatoes:  sauce, oven dried, frozen whole, fondue).  But as it happened, I was in the middle of planning my September curbside dinner.  I immediately knew that some of those tomatoes would make their way into a sauce of some kind for that menu.  Because I have to keep costs reasonable for these dinners, a sauce of vine ripened tomatoes—that usually cost upwards of five or six dollars a pound—is just not within reach.  What a great thing to receive a gift from my friend…that I could in turn share with my regular clients.  

I had recently made a dinner for myself of a simple basmati pilaf with sautéed zucchini and sweet corn…topped with an egg…and a few spoonfuls of a concentrated tomato compote/sauce.  The tomato sauce was a last minute thought because at the time I had a small, very ripe tomato sitting on my counter that I had really needed to use.  It was the size with which I would normally make a quick summer tomato sauce for pasta—but I wasn’t really in the mood for pasta.  So instead, I made my usual sauce… and then served it dolloped over the pilaf and egg.  

The result was memorable:  The tangy character of the ripe, late season tomato lit up the other ingredients.  And the meal itself perfectly captured the moment in terms of the available ingredients and this year’s extended season of warm weather (too warm really to start thinking about the traditional foods of autumn).

As I thought about what I wanted to make for my curbside, I remembered that little dinner.  I can’t really give my patrons a cooked ahead fried egg…but I can give them a nicely seared piece of fish that they can then finish in their own ovens.  

The tomato compote I made for the curbside was a cross between  my quick summer tomato sauce and a rich tomato fondue that I occasionally make.  The quick sauce is made with roughly chopped tomatoes (skins and seeds included) and cooked down quickly in lots of olive oil and garlic.  (It is ready in the time it takes to boil pasta!)  The tomato fondue is a rich, more refined, compote of skinned and seeded tomatoes, cooked down in a base of olive oil, garlic and onions that have first been cooked to total softness.  I ended up calling my sauce for the curbside fondue because it was reduced and concentrated.  But I left the seeds in (removing only the skin) and omitted the onions.  The result was thick and rich (perfect for dolloping)…and tangy and sweet (great for enhancing the mild flavors of the rest of the dish).  It is basically the quick sauce without the tomato skin.  I’ve decided to rename it “Late Season Tomato Compote.”  

When making the “compote” for just one or two servings, you can simply make the original quick summer tomato sauce.  The main reason I didn’t make it for the curbside was I discovered that the longer cooking required for larger batches tended to toughen the skins—making them discernible in the final dish.  

I had so many tomatoes that I made extra of the compote for myself.  I froze it in little 2 oz containers (about a quarter cup or one serving)…which I will be able to enjoy all winter long…on pastas and pizzas—or to enhance a soup—or to go with a grain pilaf with a fried egg.  If you are looking for ways to preserve those big boxes of late season tomatoes that might still be coming into your farmers market, you should give this a try.

When I finally settled on my menu, not only did I change out the egg for salmon…I also swapped out rice for bulgur.  I liked the color contrast and the variation (rightly…or wrongly…assuming that people are more likely to make rice for themselves than bulgur).  I also added some crushed fennel seed and dried oregano to the pilaf to further compliment all of the vegetables.  I’m going to post the recipe for the bulgur pilaf.  But you could obviously make a basmati pilaf (or freekeh…or quinoa…) instead.  The pilaf is mostly a vehicle for all of the delicious vegetables. 

I was very happy with the result.  I have made a lot of curbside dinners in the past few years…but I think this was one of my favorites.  It was simple…beautiful…and perfectly “of the moment.”  What a wonderful gift I received from my friend.

Late Summer Tomato Compote

3 to 4 T. olive oil
3 to 4 cloves of garlic, minced
1/8 to 1/4 t. hot pepper flakes (as you prefer)
1 1/4 lb. vine ripened tomatoes, peeled, cored and roughly diced 

Place the oil, along with the garlic and pepper flakes in a large sauté pan and place the pan over moderately high to high heat. When the garlic begins to sizzle enthusiastically and is just on the verge of taking on a bit of color, add the tomatoes (along with all of the juices) to the pan. The tomatoes should immediately begin to simmer rapidly. Allow the tomatoes to cook, shaking the pan back and forth occasionally, stirring at regular intervals and regulating the heat in order to maintain a brisk simmer, until the tomatoes have broken down and the sauce is very thick (a path will remain when you draw a spoon through the tomatoes) and the oil is just beginning to break out of the sauce.  You should have a generous cup.  Remove from the heat. Season to taste with salt.

Bulgur Pilaf with Corn & Zucchini

2 T. olive oil
1 small red onion (4 to 5 oz.), finely diced (you will have about 1 c. diced onion)
1/2 t. kosher salt
1 t. fennel seed, crushed with a mortar & pestle
1 t. dried oregano
1 c. (6 oz.) medium bulgur, rinsed and drained
1 1/4 c. boiling water

2 T. olive oil
10 oz. trimmed zucchini, cut in a 1/3-inch dice
2 cloves garlic, peeled and minced
2 ears of corn, roasted in the husk and kernels cut from the cob to yield 1 3/4 to 2 cups
2 T. minced parsley

Warm 2 T. olive oil in a medium saucepan with a tight fitting lid over moderate heat.  Add the onions along with a pinch of salt and sweat until tender and translucent and beginning to turn golden around the edges.  Add the garlic, fennel & oregano and cook until fragrant—about a minute.  Increase the heat to medium high and add the drained bulgur along with a generous pinch of salt.  Continue to cook for a minute.  Add the water and bring to a boil.  Reduce the heat to low and cook, covered until the bulgur is tender—12 to 15 minutes.  Remove from the heat and let stand (covered) for 5 minutes.  

While the bulgur cooks, sauté the zucchini.  Warm the olive oil in a medium sauté pan set over moderately high heat.  When the pan is hot, add the zucchini and sauté, tossing occasionally until tender and browned in spots.  Add the garlic, toss to distribute.  When fragrant, add the corn and toss to combine.  Heat through.  Season to taste with salt and pepper.

When the bulgur is done, transfer to a large bowl along with the zucchini and corn.  Add the parsley and toss to combine.

Enjoy the pilaf warm or at room temperature.  Serves 4

To serve the compote & pilaf with fish (as I did for the dinner):

Sear the Salmon (or whatever fish you prefer…Halibut would be good, too):  Place a heavy sauté pan that is large enough to hold the fish over medium-high heat.  While the pan is heating, season the fish on both sides with salt & pepper.  Add a thin film of olive oil to the pan.  When the oil is very hot, add the fish, service-side down (if you leave the skin on, this will be the side with the skin…if the fish is skinless, this will be the interior side).  Cook until it is a beautiful golden brown—about 3 minutes, regulating the heat as necessary to prevent smoking but at the same time, maintain an active sizzle. Turn the fish over and continue to cook until barely opaque in the center—another 3 minutes or so (reducing the heat further, as necessary).  Remove from the pan and keep warm.  Mound a quarter of the pilaf in the center of each plate, spreading out a bit to make room for the fish on top.  Transfer the fish to the pilaf.  Drizzle and dollop about a quarter cup of the compote over and around the fish and pilaf.  Enjoy.

Variation:  Substitute a fried or poached egg for the fish.

Printable Version

 

Refreshing Coconut Ice Milk

Early last winter while working on a special dessert for a private dinner client I decided to look through some of my older cookbooks. While doing so, I ran across a recipe for coconut ice cream in Patricia Wells’ book Simply French. The recipe was so simple and so outside the realm of what I consider to be correct technique for ice cream that it made me question whether or not it would be a waste of my time to try it. I almost passed it by.

But the fact that this recipe was in Simply French gave me reason to pause. If you aren’t familiar with the book, it is—as the subtitle reveals—a presentation of the cuisine of Joel Robuchon, who was arguably one of the most influential chefs of the last century. Among other things he was known for his commitment to precise technique and to crafting dishes that let the ingredients “speak for themselves.” I wouldn’t call his food “simple”—because the techniques are generally not simple. But he was certainly a champion of using seasonal ingredients, and allowing those ingredients to shine. The book includes many of his classic presentations.

Beyond the source, I was persuaded to try the recipe because it was perfect for the dessert I wanted to make: Danish almond cake with a caramelized pineapple compote (the ice cream is served in the book with pineapple in a vanilla butter sauce).

As I said, the recipe is surprisingly simple: two cups of milk, one and one half cups of “sweetened coconut milk,” and a small amount of rum. Sweetened coconut milk could probably be a lot of things, but Wells says in the head notes of the recipe that they used Cóco Lopez at Robuchon’s restaurant Jamin. To me Cóco Lopez is “cream of coconut”—there is nothing milk-like about it—so I was grateful she gave this brand detail.

To make the ice cream, bring the milk to a boil, add the Cóco Lopez, strain the mixture (A signature Robuchon—and classic French—technique…everything that can be strained, usually gets strained, so that the final texture will be as suave as possible. In this case, you are straining out the skin that forms on the surface of boiled milk.), stir in the rum, chill, and freeze in an ice cream freezer.

I don’t know if the Cóco Lopez that is sold in the U.S. is different than what is sold in France, but I had to add a step. When you open a can of Cóco Lopez often you will find that the contents have separated into solidified fat (on the top) and a syrupy liquid on the bottom. I had to blend the milk/Cóco Lopez mixture with my immersion blender before I strained it so that the separated fat was emulsified back in.

The frozen results were incredibly delicious. Patricia Wells calls it ice cream…but to me the texture is more like ice milk. It is very light…and has the smooth texture of the creamiest of sorbets. It could probably be called coconut sorbet but for the fact that it includes dairy. The flavor isn’t super strong—although it is definitely identifiable. Since my least favorite thing about coconut is the texture, this ice milk is just about the perfect coconut treat.

The first time I made it, it was the dead of winter. But I knew it would make an amazingly refreshing summer treat. So early this summer, when I had some Coco Reál left over from a private dinner, I knew exactly what I would do with it.

Coco Reál is not identical to Cóco Lopez (which is considered to be the original “cream of coconut”). But for most things, I use them interchangeably. Coco Reál is slightly sweeter and it includes emulsifiers that keep it from separating into its fatty and liquid components. Some sources accuse Cóco Reál of including “chemical preservatives”—implying that this makes it an inferior product. But if you look at the labels for both products you will find they both include some unidentifiable preservatives. No one would accuse either company of packaging a health food.

In any case, I definitely like the fact that I didn’t have to get out my immersion blender to finish the ice milk base for the one made with Coco Reál. I also liked the flavor of the version made with Coco Reál a bit better. When made with Cóco Lopez, I find it has a slight—unidentifiable (to me, at least)—aftertaste. But I have made it subsequently (more than once) with both products, and it is delicious either way. I think that if you make it, you will be happy with either one.

The coconut ice milk is delicious all on its own…or with fruit. I particularly like it with the Bing cherry compote I used in my Bing Cherry & Chocolate Chip Semifreddo (another amazingly delicious and refreshing summer treat). I have also served it with plain, sugared fresh fruit (tropical fruits are especially good).

But my favorite thing to serve with it is the almond praline I made for that original dessert. There is something about the light crackle-y crunch…and the caramel-y almond flavor…that is just the perfect foil. Shaved chocolate or a chocolate syrup is a delicious go-with also. And of course, it is delicious with the Danish Almond Cake.

I’m glad I trusted my gut about the reliability of this old friend of a cookbook and gave this recipe a try. If you are interested in French food, this is a great cookbook to have on your shelf. And if you love coconut…and ice cream/ice milk/sorbet…you should definitely give this simple, sweet, and refreshing treat a try.

Coconut Ice Milk

2 c. whole milk

1 1/2 c. cream of coconut (Cóco Lopez, Coco Reál, or similar)

1 T. rum or Malibu (optional)

Place the milk in a saucepan and bring to a simmer. Remove from the heat and add the cream of coconut. If it appears lumpy, or separated, use an immersion blender (or transfer to a standard upright blender) to smooth it out/emulsify. Strain through a fine sieve into a bowl and stir in the Malibu. Chill until cold.

Freeze according to the instructions on your ice cream machine. When soft serve-like, transfer to a chilled freezer container and freeze. Makes a scant quart.

Notes: This produces a frozen dessert that starts to soften/thaw very quickly. Serve in chilled dishes…and store in the coldest part of your freezer.

(Recipe adapted from Simply French by Patricia Wells)

Printable Version

Almond Praline

3 T. (37g) sugar

1/2 c. (50g) sliced almonds

Spray a small cookie sheet with cooking spray…or oil lightly. Set aside.

Set a medium non-stick sauté pan (with a cooking surface that is about 8 inches in diameter) over medium-high. Scatter the sugar evenly over the surface of the pan 

and let melt—shaking back and forth occasionally to keep the sugar in an even layer. The melted sugar should be clear or a light amber color. If it is a dark amber, the heat is too high.

When the sugar is melted, scatter the almonds in an even layer over the sugar. Using a non-stick, heat proof spatula, stir (lifting, turning and pressing…as demonstrated in class) the nuts constantly. They will begin to take on a golden color in spots and the melted sugar will begin to darken. You are looking for a mostly uniform, deep golden coloration of the nuts and sugar. 

If the sugar/pan begins to smoke, reduce the heat. When the color is mostly uniform—this will only take about a minute to a minute and a half from when you add the nuts—remove from the heat and scrape onto the prepared tray. Use heat proof spatula to separate the nuts as much as possible. The praline will harden very quickly. If you wish the nuts to be more separate, use two oiled, heat proof spatulas to occasionally stir and separate them as they cool.

Makes about 3/4 cup

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Bing Cherry Coffeecake with Chocolate-Pecan Streusel

I always try to teach—in my classes…through m blog—that a large part of learning to cook well is finding and honing a few basic, reliable and versatile recipes.  You should make these basics so often that you can practically make them in your sleep.  It might seem like this approach to food preparation might be boring…or limiting.  But it isn’t.  It is actually liberating.  The repetition will hone your skills in the kitchen.  And it will actually make you more adventurous as you recognize the patterns and techniques you have learned when you encounter them in new recipes (which will in turn give you confidence to try them).  French home cooking—as I learned it—leans heavily on this idea of learning a slate of basic tried and true recipes and then expanding your repertoire out from this core.  Julia Child called this style of cooking “theme & variation.”  

My short crust pastry is one of these foundational recipes in my kitchen.  When approaching a new recipe for a tart, pie or turnover, unless there is a compelling reason to use another recipe for the crust (maybe the dough needs an alternate flour/grain…or a very specific textural result that my recipe doesn’t provide is required…etc), I just substitute my own dough.  This leaves me free to focus on the part of the recipe that is new to me…and gives me a leg up on having a successful result.

For those of you who have been reading my blog for a while, you are probably aware that this is the way I approach cooking in general. I have posted several kinds of quiche…all with the same custard ratio.  Many ice cream recipes have appeared—all with the same basic formula underneath their varied flavors.  And so on.  

It will probably come as no surprise then that many of my coffeecake recipes are frequently variations on one basic, simple cake: a rich, sour cream cake that is itself a variation on the classic American 1-2-3-4 cake (1 c. butter, 2 c. sugar, 3 c. flour, 4 eggs.).  I shared it first in a Pear & Walnut Coffeecake.  It has since popped up (almost unchanged) in a Pineapple Upside-down Cake and a Peach Streusel Coffeecake.  And it has been the springboard for variations that eventually became Coconut Coffeecake, Piña Colada Cupcakes, Rhubarb Upside-down Cake and Chocolate Coffeecake with Browned Butter Streusel (to name a few).

A few weeks ago, after poking around on line a bit searching for a streusel coffeecake that suited my pantry and finding nothing appealing, I remembered that I already had a delicious recipe that I could use…and that I was pretty sure would turn out well.  Just like the pear coffeecake…and the peach one…I wanted a coffeecake that used the abundant fruit of the moment.  This time it was Bing cherries (not only was I almost out of coffeecake at the time…I had purchased too many cherries for some reason).  I love Bing cherries with chocolate…so I wanted a little chocolate in the cake.  My basic recipe was able to accommodate all of these things easily.  It was a no brainer to make it.  

If you make it…I hope you enjoy it as much as I did.  The basic cake—underneath the cherries and chocolate—might even become one of your favorite basic recipes.     

Bing Cherry & Chocolate-Pecan Streusel Coffeecake

1/2 c. all-purpose flour (60g)
1/4 t. nutmeg
1/3 c. brown sugar
1/4 c. butter
1/2 c. pecans (60g), lightly toasted and coarsely chopped
1/2 c. chocolate chips (85g)

1 3/4 c. all-purpose flour (200g)
3/4 t. salt
1/2 t. baking powder
1/2 t. baking soda
8 T. (1 stick/114g) unsalted butter, at room temperature
1 c. sugar (200 grams)
2 eggs, at room temperature
1 t. vanilla
1 c. sour cream (242 grams)
360g (about 2 1/2 c) Bing (or other dark, sweet cherry) cherries, stemmed, pitted and halved

To make the topping, combine the first four ingredients in a small bowl, rubbing the butter into the dry ingredients. Add the walnuts and chill until ready to build the coffee cake.

Combine the flour, salt, baking powder and baking soda in a small bowl and set aside. Cream the butter and sugar until light and fluffy (about 2 to 3 minutes using a stand mixer).  Beat in the eggs one at a time, scraping down the sides after each addition.  Beat in the vanilla. Fold in the flour mixture in three additions, alternating with the sour cream in two additions.  Spread the batter in a greased and floured 13- by 9-inch baking pan. Arrange the cherry halves, cut side up, over the batter so they are relatively evenly spaced.  

Scatter the topping evenly over all.  Bake in a 350° oven until golden and a toothpick inserted in the center comes out clean—35 to 45 minutes. 

Note: This cake freezes beautifully. If you want to have a slice for breakfast every morning, portion the whole cake and freeze the individual portions in an airtight container or in a single layer in a Ziplock freezer bag. A piece can be thawed in the microwave (medium power) or you can let it thaw overnight. To do this, before you go to bed, take out a slice, set it on a plate and cover it tightly with plastic to conserve the moisture as the cake thaws.

Printable Version

An Asparagus Salad with Peas & Mint for Early Summer

I’m almost tired of asparagus for the year…but not quite. I’m still purchasing a bunch occasionally…and will continue to do so as long as it continues to look vibrant and delicious. I’m still making my favorite asparagus pastas. But in June I mostly love to tuck it into salads. Lightly blanched—or even raw (shaved)—it adds interest and herbal notes to the green salads of late spring and early summer. It is great with roasted beets…jammy eggs…potatoes...grains… peas….

I have mentioned before that in the early days of the pandemic I began preparing a monthly “curbside dinner.” It was so successful that I continue to do it as my schedule allows. The meal is made up of three courses…and comes bagged and ready to “finish” (toss the salad…warm things that need warming…etc). I usually try to come up with at theme that knits the courses together (April in Paris…An Irish Feast…). But most of the time the theme is simply a celebration of the foods of the moment. Asparagus usually makes an appearance in the April and May dinners.

This year my schedule didn’t allow for a May dinner. Instead, I offered it on June 1 (to cover May and June—June is generally even busier than May…). I decided I could give asparagus a last gasp appearance since it was still abundant and of good quality. I put it in the first course salad…along with some fresh peas (in season in June…or available in those great little bags at Trader Joes’) and seasonal lettuces (arugula and a mix of butter lettuces, baby romaine and baby spinach). I also added a good pinch of whole mint leaves—which is abundant and tender in the garden now (and will be for another month or so).

If you have never added whole herbs to a salad, you should give it a try. The softer herbs—flat leaf parsley, basil, dill, tarragon, chives, etc.—are wonderful when added in to salads. If they are large, tear them into smaller pieces…but the smaller leaves can be added whole. Use them as you would lettuce…but with a lighter hand.

The dressing for this salad is a bit more complex than those that I typically make for home use, but for the curbside I wanted something that would wake up all of the mild and sweet flavors in this salad. And this one does just that. It is totally worth the small amount of extra time involved.

Other than the vinaigrette, the main thing that will be a game changer for this salad, is being careful to cook the asparagus and peas in well-salted water. If the vegetables aren’t well salted, the salad will be bland.

A couple of days after the dinner, I made the salad for myself with some of the leftover ingredients and served it for my dinner with a little bit of leftover roast chicken. It was fantastic. In general, salads are a great way of serving the last bits of leftover roasts. The meat can be reheated…or simply served cold (or room temperature), if heating will dry it out.

On another evening I made this salad for myself with the addition of a few steamed new potatoes (dressed with vinegar while they were still warm as for this great French potato salad with peas).  This too was delicious.

Asparagus Salad with Peas, Mint, Goat Cheese & Sunflower Seeds

2 medium scallions, trimmed and sliced finely on a long bias (to make about an ounce)
1/2 c. (a scant 3 oz.) shelled fresh peas (see note)
1 lb. asparagus, trimmed (to get about 1/2 lb. trimmed weight)
4 small handfuls stemmed arugula (about 1 1/2 oz)
A handful of mint leaves (1/4 oz.), torn if large
2 big handfuls mixed lettuces of your choice (see note)—about 2 oz.
1/4 to 1/3 c. roasted and salted sunflower seeds
3 oz. goat cheese
6 T. Sherry-Dijon Vinaigrette

Place the scallions in a bowl of ice water and let sit for 10 to 15 minutes. Drain well and blot dry with paper towels.

Fill a sauce pan with water, salt well, and bring to a boil. Add the peas and cook for one minute. Lift out using a bowl sieve and spread on towels to cool. Slice the trimmed asparagus in 1/4-inch thick slices on a long bias.

Return the water the peas were cooked in to a boil and add the asparagus. Cook until crisp tender—taste one after 2 minutes. Lift out and spread on towels to cool.

Place the peas, asparagus, scallions, arugula, mint and lettuces in a large bowl. Season with salt & pepper. Drizzle a small amount of the vinaigrette over (1 to 2 T.) and toss until all the ingredients are lightly coated, adding more vinaigrette if necessary. Mound on a platter or four individual plates. Scatter the sunflower seeds over. Then crumble the goat cheese over all. Drizzle the salad(s) with more vinaigrette.

Sherry-Dijon Vinaigrette:
3 T. Sherry vinegar
4 t. honey (1 oz.)
1 T. Dijon mustard
1 T. fresh lemon juice
3/4 t. Kosher salt
1 t. fennel spice, toasted & finely ground (see notes)
2/3 c. olive oil

Place all of the ingredients except the olive oil in a small bowl and whisk until smooth and the salt has completely dissolved. In a thin stream, add the oil while whisking constantly to form an emulsion. Taste and correct the seasoning. Makes about 1 cup of vinaigrette. Store in a jar in the fridge (allow to come to room temperature…and shake vigorously to re-emulsify—before using).

Notes:

• You may use frozen peas if fresh are not available. There is no need to cook frozen peas. Just thaw and use.
• I like a young, soft mix of lettuces for this salad—baby lettuces of all kinds…but especially Bibb/Boston.
• To toast fennel spice, place in a dry sauté pan over moderately high heat. Shake the pan occasionally. When the fennel is fragrant…and beginning to take on a pale golden color in spots, transfer to a plate to cool. Grind by bashing in a mortar & pestle…or using a spice grinder.
• To make a more substantial salad…appropriate for an entrée, serve as a side for chicken, fish or lamb. You could also serve it as an entrée without meat…just add a few new potatoes (Steam or boil; halve, quarter or slice while warm and dress with a teaspoon of vinegar for every half pound of potatoes. Season with salt and cool before adding to the salad.)

Printable Version

Spaghetti alla Carbonara Primavera

Many years ago I posted the recipe for Spaghetti alla Carbonara. At the time, I noted that it’s perfect for evenings when you’re feeling a little bit lazy…and your pantry is a little bit bare. It also fills the bill for those days when you are craving a little comfort food.

Sadly, it has also always felt like a bit of a guilty pleasure to me because it doesn’t have a vegetable anywhere in sight. You can of course make a salad to go with it. But that’s more work…and more dishes to wash. Today’s spring version of the dish takes care of the lack of vegetables…without adding any more work in the form of more dirty dishes. This Primavera incarnation of Pasta alla Carbonara is not only quick and satisfying…it is now a non-guilt inducing dinner (unless bacon makes you feel guilty…).

Even with the addition of vegetables, I still consider this a “bare pantry” kind of dinner. In the spring, if I don’t have asparagus on hand (and peas in the freezer…or one of those great little bag of Trader Joe’s fresh peas in the vegetable crisper), there is probably truly nothing in the house to eat. This time of year I buy asparagus every time I’m at the store or market (and I usually buy too much). I love asparagus.

I should probably point out that the fact that this dish is quick does not mean it is easy. It is in fact—at the end when you are finishing it—a bit tricky. I was reminded of this the other day when I made it for friends for lunch. I was in a hurry and didn’t pay as much attention as I should have at the very end when I was mixing in the eggs.

When you make Spaghetti alla Carbonara, you are essentially using the residual heat of the pot the pasta was cooked in…as well as the heat in the pasta…to “cook” the eggs. Yet, you don’t want visibly scrambled eggs. You want eggs that are cooked to the point of a stirred custard (like crème anglaise and similar), so that what you have is a lightly thickened, fluid sauce coating the noodles (and vegetables). This sauce is made up of egg, butter, bacon fat, Parmesan, and pasta water.

To get a sauce like this, you simply have to be paying attention. When you add the egg, make sure that you are stirring constantly. As you stir…and add each element (butter, cooked vegetables and bacon, Parmesan)…pay attention to the thickness and fluidity of the sauce. If you are having difficulty stirring (because the sauce is too tight), add a splash of pasta water. If the pasta seems like it is swimming in too much liquid (because the egg is not cooked…or you “splashed” in too much pasta water), set it over low heat and stir briskly until it begins to thicken.

The other day when I made it for lunch I didn’t add enough pasta water. The final dish seemed a bit sticky to me (noodles didn’t twirl smoothly, etc). But I share this mostly to let you know it was still delicious and I Hoovered it right up. So…if you don’t get it quite right, don’t worry. Enjoy it anyway. And then, make it again soon. So you can get in some more practice.

Spaghetti alla Carbonara Primavera

1/2 lb. Asparagus, trimmed (about 4 oz. trimmed weight)
2 strips bacon (about 2 oz.), thinly sliced crosswise
3 to 4 t. unsalted butter, divided
Freshly ground Black Pepper
Salt

1/4 c. fresh or frozen peas (thawed, if frozen)--optional
180 g./6 1/2 oz. spaghetti
2 eggs
1/2 c. (1 1/2 oz.) finely grated Parmesan

Slice the tips off of the asparagus at an angle. Split the tips in half lengthwise. Slice the stalks of the asparagus thinly on a long diagonal so that they are the same length as the halved tips. Set aside.

In a medium sauté pan set over medium-low heat, render the bacon. Stir and scrape to make sure it cooks evenly. When the bacon is browned and beginning to crisp and sizzle, add a tablespoon or so of water to cool the pan. Add a couple of teaspoons of the butter and a few grinds of black pepper and the asparagus. Season lightly with salt and toss to coat the asparagus in the butter and bacon fat. Cover the pan, reduce the heat to low and cook for a couple of minutes (until the pan is steamy and the asparagus is at an active, but gentle, sizzle). Uncover the pan and continue to cook, stirring occasionally until the asparagus is just tender—about 7 to 8 minutes. If adding peas, add them to the pan a couple of minutes before the asparagus is done.

When you add the asparagus to the pan of bacon, drop the spaghetti into a large pot of rapidly boiling, salted water. Stir to make sure the pasta isn't sticking. Cook until the pasta is al dente—about 7 to 8 minutes. (The pasta and asparagus should finish cooking at the same time—if the asparagus is done before the pasta, simply set it aside off of the heat.)

A couple of minutes before the pasta is ready, scoop out a half cup or so of the pasta water and set to the side. Crack the eggs into a small bowl and whisk until smooth.

When the pasta is al dente, drain it well. Return the pasta to the (now empty) hot pot and immediately add the asparagus/bacon mixture (scraping the pan well with a rubber spatula), the egg and any remaining butter. Stir briskly until the egg is thickened. If necessary, place the pot back over low heat as your stir. Stir in half of the Parmesan. Taste and correct the seasoning with salt & pepper. Adjust the consistency with some of the pasta water as needed—the spaghetti should be coated in a thin, fluid sauce of lightly thickened egg...it should not seem sticky or tight. Serve immediately with more Parmesan scattered over. Serves 2.

Note: Recipe is easily halved for one or doubled for four.

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Some Updates

A little over a year ago I added a “tip jar” to my blog. It provided a way for people who wanted to support my work to do so without pressure or rules. It also provided some income for the work I do on the blog without cluttering it up with annoying ads/pop ups/etc. Many of you have contributed…and I appreciate it so much!

Last week I had to take the tip jar down. It was apparently being used by thieves to vet stolen credit cards. Most transactions (over 350 over the course of a month by the time I caught it) were unsuccessful. Two went through for very small amounts and with similar names (which is how I caught it). The only solution appeared to be removing the payment link since I didn’t want to force people to tip over a certain dollar amount—which would be the only way to discourage thieves who were using it.

The Departed Tip Jar

As much as I didn't want to do it, taking the tip jar down has given me an opportunity to promote another way for followers to support the work I do.   As I mentioned in my last post, I have started a monthly subscription newsletter.  It costs $30 a year to subscribe. The newsletter—called “Notes from For Love of the Table”—is very much like my blog: filled with recipes, tutorials on techniques…as well as my not-so-humble opinions. You can read more about it in my previous post (at the end)…or on the “About” page of the newsletter.

Because it involves money/income, the removal of the tip jar also provides an occasion for me to explain a little bit about what has happened with my cooking classes over the past few years. I know that many of the people who took my in-person classes have been disappointed that I am no longer offering them.

Prior to the pandemic, the place where I taught most of my classes operated the class program on a non-profit basis. Even so, they compensated the teachers generously while offering the classes at a price that anyone could afford. When the pandemic ended and the program started up again, they made the decision to restructure the way instructors were compensated. I was no longer able to make enough for teaching the classes to cover my time. I was very sorry to see my time there come to an end.

Around the same time all this happened, I was pursuing increasing the number of in-person classes I offered at another venue. My classes there never really took off. It takes years to build a consistent clientele—years when you often teach for the sake of building up a following and don’t earn enough to cover the costs and time involved. I am no longer in a position to be able to do this.

Zoom classes have been my solution…at least for now. I can offer classes on Zoom at a price most can afford (I charge $35—in-person classes cost upwards of $75, which many cannot afford) because I don’t have to cover the cost of ingredients for tastings or the considerable amount of time it takes to stage an in-person class. With these Zoom classes, even when only a few people sign up, I can make enough to cover the time I have spent.

Some (many? most?) people don’t like Zoom. I totally understand. Mostly I have shared all of this to explain why my in-person classes came to an abrupt halt—seemingly out of the blue. But I have to add here: if you liked my in-person classes, consider giving my Zoom classes a try!

As far as the tip jar is concerned, I was thinking about taking it down when I started the newsletter anyway since the newsletter had provided an avenue for people who enjoy my blog to support me. It had occurred to me that it would be unlikely that someone would tip and pay $30 a year to receive a monthly newsletter. But I could be wrong about that…so I had left the tip jar up (until last week).

The idea of the newsletter came about as I have tried to rework my career in the wake of the pandemic and my shifting teaching situations.  Like teaching, the blog was something I was already doing.  I have always loved my blog. I love everything about it: testing recipes, writing recipes, writing posts, taking pictures….   (And I’ve always been so gratified when I learn that others have enjoyed reading it and cooking from it.)  Unfortunately, I have never been able to figure out how to justify it financially. When everything came to a grinding halt in March of 2020 and every working moment had to produce an income, I had to let the blog go. I have posted a few times over the past four years…but obviously not as much as I would like. By adding a paid subscription newsletter, I will be able to give extra content to those who subscribe (plus Zoom class discounts!) and, if all goes as planned, eventually provide enough income for me to post regularly to the blog again (which will remain free and public). I might even be able to do an in person class or two.

To those who have subscribed already:  Thank you so much!  I hope you are enjoying it and looking forward to cooking from it...or enjoying the things you may have already cooked.

For those who didn't know about the newsletter yet: If you use my blog…and learn from it…and want to see more of the kinds of things I share here, I hope you will consider subscribing to my newsletter. Doing so will bring more content your way (right into your inbox every month) and it will help me continue to teach, write, and develop recipes.

Thank you so much for taking a moment to read this post that doesn't even include a recipe. I have always been so amazed by—and appreciative of—those who have followed along and cooked with me over the years. Thank you...  I'm looking forward to many more.

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White Chocolate Cheesecake Tart with Lemon Curd Topping…and an announcement!

Yesterday was Easter Sunday. As has frequently been the case with me over the past few years, I am posting the holiday appropriate recipe after the fact. Three or four years ago I posted my recipe for Hot Cross Buns after Easter had passed. But as I pointed out at the time…the holiday happens every year. Posting the recipe while it is fresh and new works well for me…and makes the recipe available to all when the holiday does come around again.

In the case of the dessert that I made for yesterday’s festivities, the white chocolate and lemon flavors will be appropriate for many occasions. Mother’s day…for example (and which happens to be right around the corner). So in the long run, I don’t feel too bad about my tardiness…and I hope others won’t mind it too much either.

Yesterday’s dessert was mostly the serendipitous result of my continually changing pantry of leftovers. Due to some over-purchasing for some recent events, I had cream cheese, lemons and graham crackers on hand. All of this of course suggests cheesecake. But since I’m usually not in the mood for a tall slab of rich cheesecake after a holiday meal, I opted instead to make a “cheese tart,” (similar in style to the Marbled Chocolate & Pumpkin Cheese Tart I shared several years ago). The thin flat tart allows you to cut attractive, wider portions—without serving a dessert that is just too rich.

Because my favorite cheesecake happens to be white chocolate cheesecake, I decided that I would make a base layer of white chocolate cheesecake and top it with a thin layer of lemon curd. I thought the contrast in tastes: tangy cream cheese and sour cream…sweet white chocolate…and tart lemon—would be fantastic. And they were.

The tart is very straight forward to make if you are familiar with making cheesecake. There are no surprises in the crust…and the main thing to be careful about when you are making the batter is the addition of the chocolate. White chocolate is even more temperamental than chocolate and can seize or clump pretty quickly. When you add it, don’t mess around: add it all in one go and immediately whisk it in by hand so that it is fully distributed as quickly as possible.

If you have never made lemon curd, check out my post on the classic Tarte au Citron. You will be making half of the recipe described in that post. Applying the curd to the tart is the trickiest part of making the cheesecake tart. It must be applied to the cheesecake base while it is still warm, soft and wobbly. The surface tension of the mostly baked cheesecake will work in your favor, but you must be careful to apply the curd by holding your spoon/spatula/ladle very close to the surface—without  touching the surface—and apply it in a sweeping sort of motion (basically laying the curd in slabs/strips rather than plops). If you are too far above the surface of the tart when you apply it…or you apply it all in one spot…the weight of the curd will penetrate into the tart and you won’t have even/level layers of cheesecake and curd. Once all of the curd has been laid down on the tart, using a small offset spatula, go back and gently smooth it out to the edges, filling any holes left from the application process.

I was very pleased with this tart. Sometimes when you make something with flavors you think will be happy together, you can be disappointed when they all somehow manage to mute one another rather than enhance each other. I’m happy to report that this tart tastes of all the things you expect: cheesecake…white chocolate…and lemon. And it is just as delicious as you would expect. Berries, sweetened lightly with sugar, are an excellent garnish.

Announcing!

Finally, in the title I promised an announcement. Starting this month, I am offering a subscription newsletter! I am calling it “Notes from For Love of the Table.” I will be publishing once a month. There will be recipes…techniques…and of course, my opinions. For now I envision it as being primarily focused on the needs of those of us living in small households. Recipes will be mostly calibrated to one or two portions. And I will have a lot to say about how to go about organizing food preparation in a small household so that it isn’t wasteful or repetitive. If you have been reading my blog for very long, you know that this is right where I live. (Frequently the recipes I post have been inspired by the current contents of my pantry and leftovers. Today’s tart is a perfect example of that.) If you would like to read more about the newsletter, you may do so on the public “about” page. Subscribers will receive discounts to all my online classes…and right out of the gate will receive a free archived Zoom class of their choice.

I am excited about this newsletter. Charging a subscription fee (only $30 for a full year) will allow me to return to doing what I love to do best—developing recipes and writing about them. My focus will be on the newsletter, but if all goes as planned, I will also be able to post more here, on my blog (which will remain ad free and public).

I hope you will subscribe! You may do so here: Notes from For Love of the Table.

Lemon & White Chocolate Cheese Tart

Graham Cracker Crust:

167 g. (1 2/3 c.) finely ground graham crackers

40 g. ( 3 T.) granulated sugar

70 g. (5 T.) unsalted butter, melted

Cheesecake Base:

14 oz. (1 3/4 packages) cream cheese, room temperature (see note)

1/2 c. sugar

Pinch of salt

1/2 c. sour cream

2 eggs, lightly beaten

4 oz white chocolate, melted

Lemon curd:

100 g. (1/2 c.) sugar

75 g. (1/3 c.) strained lemon juice

2 eggs

2 oz. (1/2 stick) unsalted butter, cut into pieces

Make the crust: Butter a 10-inch removable bottom tart pan. Combine the crust ingredients until homogenous and press to the bottom and up the sides of the pan in a compact even layer. Place on a baking sheet and transfer to a pre-heated 350° oven. Bake until set and beginning to brown—10 to 12 minutes. Cool. Reduce the oven temperature to 325°.

Briefly beat cream cheese to break up. Beat in the sugar and salt until smooth; scrape the sides. Add the sour cream and beat in. Scrape the sides. Beat in the eggs in two or three additions, just until smooth and fully incorporated. By hand, quickly whisk in the melted chocolate. Scrape the batter into the prepared crust.

Bake the tart in a pre-heated 325° oven until just set—about 30 minutes. The filling will be just beginning to soufflé up a bit around the edges and the center will appear jiggly.

While the cheese tart bakes, make the lemon curd: Combine the sugar and lemon juice in a medium saucepan and bring to a boil over high heat. In a medium-sized bowl, whisk the eggs until homogenous. When the lemon syrup boils, whisk it into the eggs in a thin stream. Return this mixture to the saucepan and place over medium heat. Stir constantly until the mixture is visibly thickened—this will only take a minute or two. Remove from the heat and whisk in the butter, piece by piece. When the butter is fully incorporated, strain the filling into a small bowl and set aside.

When the cheesecake base is done to the point described above, remove it from the oven. 

Gently lay the lemon curd on the surface. Do this by carefully spooning it on with the spoon held very close (but not touching) the surface. If you just pour the curd on from too high above the tart, it will make holes/divots in the surface since the cheese custard will still be very, very soft. Don’t worry about making the curd perfectly smooth…or covering the entire surface…as you put the curd on the tart. Just get it on the tart so it is fairly evenly distributed. Then, when all the curd is on the tart, use a small offset spatula to gently smooth it out and make sure that the whole surface is covered.

Return the tart to the oven and bake until the curd is just set (like the cheesecake, it will still be a bit jiggly in the center)—about 8 to 10 minutes.

Cool to room temperature (about 1 hour). Chill, uncovered, until cold (at least 2 hours). Once cold, cover with plastic wrap.

To portion, remove the sides of the tart pan. Cut the tart using a thin, sharp knife dipped in hot water (and wiped dry) in between cuts.

Serve accompanied by fresh berries. Serves 10.

Note: If you don’t like it that this recipe uses a portion of a package of cream cheese, you may adjust the recipe to use 2 full packages (l pound) and then reduce the quantity of sour cream to 1/3 cup. If you follow the recipe as written you will have a little cream cheese left…to spread on toast/a bagel…make a half recipe of marbled cheesecake brownies…or maybe fold into some macaroni and cheese….

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