Sass & Veracity » Method

Steak and Guinness Pie

kellypea — Sat, 04 Feb 2012 01:35:35 +0000

I’ve been thinking quite a bit about locally grown food lately — not unusual for me by any means, but my thoughts have just been more intensely focused. So it shouldn’t be unusual for an article like “Butchers’ Banquet: England’s Lincolnshire Wolds” published in the October 2011 issue of Saveur to have an impact on me. I’m always looking for truly good recipes for traditional food, and even though I’m not British, I have solid connections. In 1881 at the age of three, my great-grandfather sailed with his family from Newport, Wales to San Francisco hoping to find inexpensive land where his family might grow apples. But that’s a story for another day.

This is more about the group of men mentioned in the article who have gotten together over years and years to enjoy a Sunday meal each week. They know where the food has been grown, how it’s been grown, and have prepared it to showcase its quality. Of course, it helps that they’re in the business. I’d like to be invited to a table like that to hear the talk and understand more about what they know. I’ll work on that from here in San Diego and maybe, just maybe, by the end of this year, I’ll know more about the more than 6,000 farms in our county and the farmers who tend them.

In the meantime, I thought I’d share these great Steak & Guinness pies with you. My father-in-law loves Stilton and will jump at any excuse to tuck his napkin into his shirt and cozy up to a plate of hot food like this with a pint. The recipe isn’t challenging, but does take some time, so plan ahead. It’s worth it.

Steak & Guinness Pie Recipe

Filling Ingredients

¼ c. olive oil
1-1/4 lb. beef chuck, cut into 1″ cubes
3 cloves garlic, chopped
2 large yellow onions, sliced
2 ribs celery, thickly sliced
2 small carrots, thickly sliced
2 T fresh rosemary, chopped
1 12-oz. bottle Guinness
1/4 cup flour
2 c. vegetable stock
2 tsp. mustard powder
1 bay leaf
1 T olive oil
10 oz. mushrooms, quartered
6 oz. English Stilton, crumbled
1 medium zucchini, sliced quartered
1 egg, lightly beaten

For the crust, use the dough recipe from my Cornish Pasties .

Directions

Heat the olive oil in a large skillet over medium-high heat.
Season beef with salt and pepper, then brown in batches, removing to a bowl as it finishes.
Add the garlic, onions, celery, carrots, and rosemary to the skillet and saute until softened and just beginning to brown.
Pour in the Guinness and cook until most of the liquid has evaporated, about 20 minutes.
Sprinkle the flour into the mixture and cook, stirring until mixed.
Add the browned beef to mixture along with any juices that have accumulated in the bowl, the stock, mustard, and bay leaf. Bring to a simmer over medium-low heat and cook partially covered, about 1½ hours.
Make the dough for the tops while the beef is cooking. Wrap in plastic and chill until ready to use.
After the beef mixture is done, remove it from the heat and set it aside.
In another skillet, heat the 1 T of olive oil in a skillet over medium high heat. Add the mushrooms and zucchini and cook, stirring, until browned, then add to the beef mixture.
Add the Stilton to the mixture and stir in. Correct seasoning.
Heat oven to 375°.
Divide beef mixture among four 6″ oven-proof bowls or pie pans able to hold up to 12 oz.
Roll the dough into a 14″ square and cut out four 6″ circles. Press each circle gently down over the filling.
Brush the dough with the egg and with a pair of scissors, cut an “x” into the top of each.
Bake on a baking sheet until browned and bubbling, about 40 minutes.

Notes:

This recipe was adapted from this one which accompanied the article linked above.
I’ve made it a couple of times and although I have switched things up a bit each time, it’s just plain delicious. Is there such a thing as gourmet pub food?
The filling is very forgiving, but taking time to brown the meat properly without crowding it in the pan, and then allowing it to braise with the veggie mixture is key.
You can make the beef mixture minus the Stilton a day ahead, covered in the fridge. Reheat, add the Stilton, then place the dough on and bake.
If you try the original recipe in the link, the purchased puff pastry is decent, but I loved the dough crust better. It’s so easy to make — nothing fancy at all — give it a go!
You’ll probably have dough and filling left over — I did each time I made it — so if you need to, you can probably squeak out six smaller pies.
We enjoyed these pies with Bubble and Squeak. Think mashed potatoes with veg and you’ll have it right.
Now, for pork pie. I have lots and lots of pork in my freezer from a local farmer. Lots.

Crab Stacks with Ginger Lime Dressing

kellypea — Wed, 25 Jan 2012 23:27:02 +0000

If the end of January is approaching then I know I can expect a variety of things: emails from sites I subscribe to sharing the perfect Super Bowl snacks, bloggers swapping their tried and true party dish faves, and people talking about whether they’re planning on a game day get together or not. None of it has been discussed in our house yet, because we’ve been busy, busy, busy with life enjoying a long weekend making like tourists in West Hollywood, soaking up the last bits of our youngest’s company before he returns to San Francisco for the spring semester, celebrating family birthdays and anniversaries, and in the past couple of days, nursing one of our cats back to health after a run in with a neighbor’s kitty. Goodness! And it’s not over yet. Any time now, my husband will ask about what’s on our Super Bowl agenda. It always seems to be a last minute sort of thing most years, and that’s just fine with me because it doesn’t take too much thought to decide which snacks football fans will expect to have at their fingertips whether they’re for our small family, or a larger group.

I doubt there has ever been a time we haven’t had fresh salsa or pico de gallo with guacamole and tortilla chips. A pot of chili with all the fixin’s and a salad for halftime eats are also the norm even though the chili recipe varies from one year to the next. But I’m also known for sneaking in something that may raise eyebrows, causing certain guests to cast one another a nervous glance before pointing and asking, “What is that?” then politely suppressing the urge to continue with, “Do I have to eat it?” as they reel their fingers back in. Actually, they now ask, “How do I eat it?” because it seems my food often has rules that accompany it — or must seem like it does. Is it supposed to be dipped, or layered? Which of the ingredients on the plate create the best bite? Is it finger food, or do I need a plate and fork? To their credit, they seem much more enthusiastic than they did years ago, so I know my risks to encourage people to try something new haven’t failed, and that makes me happy.

They’ve long accepted they will never see “taco pie” loaded into a corn chip bag with a plastic spoon sticking out of it coming from my kitchen because they figure it’s something the snack bar on the Little League field sold when they were kids. Once upon a while ago, they may have seen cheese sauce hot from the microwave ready to pour over their tortilla chips and call the mess nachos, (shhh…don’t tell anybody) but now, they get hummus or white bean and roasted garlic dip with toasted bread, crackers, or raw veggies and they like it. And sometimes, they get to bite into spicy grilled sausages, nestled into a crusty sandwich rolls smothered with grilled onions and peppers, then topped with mustard. That still counts as manly game day food, doesn’t it? I hope so, because if it doesn’t, then my football party days are over.

Many of my close friends have been changing the way they eat for a variety of reasons. Losing weight always seems to be on everyone’s mind, but honestly, as we’ve gotten older, lowering cholesterol or blood pressure, controlling Type 2 Diabetes, and yes, even learning to tolerate food during and after cancer treatment have far outweighed the desire to lose a few pounds for the sake of simply looking better in our clothes. None of this has stopped us from enjoying the food we share when we get together because making sure it’s fresh and delicious is the ticket.

These crab stacks are the perfect party food. They’re light, bursting with flavor, easily adaptable to a variety of ingredient choices, can be made in advance, and most importantly, fit nicely into anyone’s healthy life style. I’ve been invited to Gojee’s virtual potluck and know people will enjoy it! Starting on Thursday, January 26, check out other potluck dishes fellow gojee contributors shared. Go to gojee.com and enter “gojeepotluck” into I Crave. You can also follow #gojeepotluck on Twitter.

If you’ve never visited gojee, then you’re in for a treat.

See you there!

Crab Stacks with Ginger Lime Dressing

Ingredients

6 Tbsp. fresh ginger, peeled and chopped

2 T agave nectar

6 T lime juice

4 cloves garlic, diced

1/2 c. water

1/4 c. pea shoots

1/4 c. Roma tomatoes, diced

1/4 c. cucumber, sliced

1/4 c. red onion, diced

1/4 c. mango, diced

1/4 c. avocado, diced

1 jalapeno, roasted and chopped

1/4 c. fresh crab meat

2 T chopped peanuts

1 tsp. fresh cilantro, chopped

Directions

Prepare ginger-lime dressing by mixing ginger, agave nectar, lime juice, garlic, and water. Pour into a sealable container and refrigerate at least 1-2 hours and as much as over night.
To assemble the crab stacks, you’ll need two cylinders such as dessert rings or recycled cans with the bottoms removed.
Lightly spray the inside of the cylinders with cooking spray, then line two small dishes with pieces of plastic wrap large enough to pull up and over the cylinders (you’ll need to do this after you’ve built the stacks) and place the cylinders on top of each.
Begin layering ingredients inside each of the cylinders in this order: pea shoots, tomatoes, cucumber, onion, mango, avocado, jalapeno, then finally, the crab. Gently press down on each ingredient as you fill to make sure it’s securely layered.
If making ahead, pull the plastic wrap up over each and wrap, then place in the fridge until ready to serve.
To serve, choose a large platter and place each cylinder on it. Unwrap and holding the cylinder with one hand, slide the plastic from beneath it. Then slowly lift the cylinder, pushing lightly on the ingredients to reveal the stack.
Finish by sprinkling the chopped peanuts and cilantro over each stack, sprinkle baby salad greens around the platter if desired, and drizzle with the ginger-lime dressing.
Allow everyone to admire the crab stacks before encouraging the first guest to dig in, scooping into the stack with crackers or toasted slices of bread.

Notes:

This recipe was adapted from Rappongi’s Chef Stephen Window’s Polynesian Crab Stack. Rappongi’s is one of our favorite San Diego restaurants.
The original recipe calls for sugar instead of the agave nectar and double that quantity. I’m not fond of overly sweet salad dressing so prefer my adaptation more. It allows for the flavor of ingredients to stand out instead of the sugar in the dressing. Honey would be another good choice.
I used canned crab meat for this recipe Blue Star. It comes chilled in a 1 lb. can and is much more than is needed for this recipe, so I wrap it up and freeze it for a later use. It’s pricey at about $16/lb. but when you consider all you can make with a pound, it’s worth it.
Have some fun with the ingredients if those on the list above aren’t available to you. Pea shoots are available at Whole Foods and Sprouts, but you could use a different type of sprout instead, or leave them out all together.
Colorful bell peppers, either diced raw, or roasted and cut into strips would be a nice option. Thinly sliced apple would also be delicious, grilled pineapple, or citrus such as blood orange slices, or grapefruit. If you don’t like crab, then try shrimp or tuna.
The peanuts add a nice crunch to the mix so if you can’t use peanuts, then try toasted pine nuts. Even a sprinkle of toasted sesame seeds would add a nice touch.
If you’re in the mood for a treat, just make one of these crab stacks for yourself and increase the amount of salad greens. It makes a beautiful, elegant lunch, or starter for a special dinner.
Speaking of salad greens, that’s my first ever crop of salad greens I’ve grown. I have a pot just outside on my patio that barely gets enough sun in the winter, and so sprinkled the seeds over the soil my tomatoes are usually planted in. The tender crop has somehow managed to escape the attention of snails so has done really well! All in all, as much as it is interesting to do this, we eat so much salad, there’s no way one pot could ever keep up with us. Still, I’m proud of my first effort!

For more delicious crab recipes perfect for parties

Cayla’s Kitchen Sink — “Cold Crab Dip”

Pham Fatale — “Seafood Crab Salad”

Chez Us — “Hot Spicy Crab Dip”

Apple Tart Alsatian Style

kellypea — Thu, 19 Jan 2012 00:55:55 +0000

You’ve promised your body that you will adopt a healthier lifestyle — something just shy of a “diet” because you know yourself too well. If what you’ve taken on is reduced to that, it’s probably not going to last because you don’t believe in diets — and for good reason. You’ve seen too many people begin with all the motivation they can muster, then when they realize the pounds aren’t falling off as quickly as they’d like, or that after what is considered a good effort, they’ve plateaued, motivation dwindles and the “diet” is quietly ignored. I can’t risk that because my knees will never forgive me for having to carry around 50 pounds they hadn’t counted on at their age.

Poor knees.

Last September when I began to think about more obsessively about my weight and lack of routine exercise (no coincidence since I’d just turned 55) I began to find reasons to avoid the kitchen. Meals became food I could easily pick up and eat with little or no thought. I stopped looking at new recipes and rarely used one to try something new for dinner. And baking? I stopped that almost completely because it seemed pointless to bake something, taste it, then try to find a home for it outside of mine. I’ve never been a big sweets eater, but I thoroughly enjoy spending a morning in the kitchen baking something — especially if it involves a little thought or teaches me something new. I miss that and know baking needs to be a part of my life — as does dessert.

Dessert is a food group, isn’t it?

I’m kidding, of course, but the point is I want to bake and enjoy dessert occasionally so have to find a balance with desserts that showcase a simple fruit without a lot of added sugar or an excessive amount of fat, for example.

Something classic, satisfying. Elegant, but not fussy.

With apples.

Glorious apples.

Just a small slice?

Yes, please.

Apple Tart Alsatian Style Recipe

Crust Ingredients

1-2/3 c. all-purpose flour

8 T butter, cold unsalted

1 whole egg

1 T sugar

pinch of salt

1-1/2 T cold water

Filling Ingredients

1/3 c. blanched almonds

1/4 c. sugar

1 T all-purpose flour

2 egg yolks

1/2 c. milk

1/2 tsp. vanilla

1 T Applejack or brandy (optional)

2 lbs. Honey crisp apples

apricot jam melted for glaze

Directions

Attach the metal blade and put all ingredients into the bowl of a food processor.
Pulse ingredients just until a ball begins to form on the blade.
Turn dough out onto a lightly floured surface and begin to lightly knead, using a pulling away action with the heel of one hand lightly pulling the dough away from the other. Continue a few times until the dough is smooth.
Dust the dough with flour and make a flattened disk, cover well and chill while you make the filling.
Preheat the oven to 500 degrees F and position the rack to the lowest position.
Place the almonds in the bowl of a food processor fitted with a metal blade and run until reduced to a fine powder. Add the flour and yolks, then process until the mixture is paste-like. Pour the milk in and process until mixed well. Add the flavorings and mix well. Set aside.
Lightly butter a 10-inch fluted tart pan with a removable bottom.
Remove the pastry from the fridge. On a lightly floured surface, roll it into a round disk about 1/4″ in thickness and 14 inches in diameter. Place it over the tart pan and remove the excess dough. Gently press the dough against the sides of the pan and lightly prick the bottom with a fork. Chill.
Peel the apples. Position each apple with stems pointing upward. Cut down through the apple on opposite sides, running parallel with the core. Do the same for the remaining two sides. Your apples will be quartered and cored.
Place each apple quarter cut side down and make thin slices across the width of each piece. Slide an offset spatula beneath each quarter and gently press down with your hand to slightly “fan” the pieces, being careful to hold the general shape of the apple quarter. Arrange in the chilled tart shell. Once the sliced quarters have filled the ring and center of the tart shell, dice the remaining apples to fill in between the sliced quarters.
Pour the custard mixture evenly over the apples.
Place the tart on a baking pan and slide it into the oven. Bake for 10 minutes, then reduce the heat to 425 degrees F and continue baking until the crust and apples are golden brown, about 15-20 minutes.
Remove from the oven and immediately remove from the tart pan. After removing the ring, run an offset spatula beneath the tart to remove it from the metal bottom before allowing it to cool on a baking rack.
Heat the apricot jam and using a pastry brush, gently coat the top of the tart as it cools.
Once cool, remove to a serving platter.

Notes:

Having always been a lover of French cooking, I recently purchased French Classics Made Easy by Richard Grausman, thinking it would be nice to learn some new tips for making some of my favorite recipes less fussy.
I tried this tart recipe first because I’ve always wanted to learn how to structure one in this Alsatian style, which can be used for any fruit such as pears, apricots, or plums. It’s pretty easy as long as you have an offset spatula.
What isn’t necessarily easy about making this tart is getting it completely out of the tart pan when it’s hot from the oven. Not only is the ring hot — if the bottom of the crust isn’t done, then getting it off the metal bottom to cool on a rack is a challenge. Mine wasn’t completely done, so I put it back in the oven (it was turned off, but still very hot) without the baking pan beneath it for about 5 minutes. I was able to remove the bottom then. I guess my worries about a tart pan sitting directly over the heat on the bottom rack of a 500 degree F oven even for 10 minutes should have been ignored. If I’d decided to put the tart in there without the baking pan from the start, I probably would have been able to remove the tart from the metal bottom easily.
If Honeycrisp apples aren’t available, try any apple that holds up well in the oven — Pippin, Granny Smith, Jonathan, Jonagold, Braeburn, Winesap, Gala, and many more. Check your regional resources for what’s most available and when.
So what about the diet? Well, traditionally, this type of tart is make with a very rich custard, but this one is pretty much made of fruit. The crust is very thin — you know where I’m going with this. Moderation! Enjoy a small piece and share the rest. And, I made this tart early last October, so it wasn’t a current temptation, but biting into it is all about the apple. Nothing overly sweet, and definitely without any kind of eggy custard flavor that I know many don’t always like. It’s a pleasant recipe easily made with whatever fruit you have available.
I need another cookbook like I need another leg, but I’m glad I decided to get this one.

Apple Tart Recipes from Around the Web:

Beyond the Plate — Apple Tarts (Tarte Aux Pommes)

My Baking Addiction — Custard Apple Tart Recipe

Gimme Some Oven — Easy Apple Tart

Sprinkle Bakes — Easiest Ever Rustic Apple Tart

Five Onion Confit

kellypea — Sat, 08 Oct 2011 20:16:51 +0000

I grew up expecting to have to eat the onions on my plate whether I wanted them or not. That’s just how it went at our house, and I didn’t question it. Good thing I’ve always liked them. Although I remember my mother telling me my grandfather liked a good onion sandwich, we had them sliced and in salads — mostly yellow onions because they were a staple — but scallions were included once in a while, along with red onions. Now that I think of it, red onions made their appearance when we lived in Spain because they were served in the cafes, often included with cucumbers and tomatoes in a very light water and red wine vinegar marinade. No lettuce, just a sprinkle of salt. It was wonderful.

Onions were chopped and fried in bacon fat for the liver my mother enjoyed so much, and as much as I didn’t want a taste of the liver, I could sit all day and inhale the aroma of those onions. Chopped onions went into simple spaghetti sauce to flavor it, or in goulash along with other vegetables and pasta, because it didn’t seem right to not have them in the mix. My mother’s meatloaf wouldn’t be meatloaf without chopped onions. They were quartered and added to our Sunday pot roast with carrots and celery as well, but I didn’t appreciate their flavor in the braise. Perhaps it was the sweetness — something I expected in the more predictable foods kids enjoy — not an onion. I still had to eat them. I liked them best raw on burgers, or a salami sandwich, the crunch and sharp spike of flavor something that was definitely missed if it wasn’t included.

Maybe it was the onion soup my father made one year before a holiday dinner. I’m surprised I don’t remember the details of his making it, but the flavor of those long cooked onions nestled in a rich broth gave me a different perspective on just how unique the sweetness of caramelized onions could be. I’d never had onion confit, though, and wondered just how different it might be. Would the sweetness that it took me years to appreciate be more intense and if it was, would I enjoy it? Based on many of the recipes I’ve come across where onion confit or jam is included, I’m thinking yes.

But would one type of onion suffice?

Five Onion Confit

Ingredients

1-1/2 T butter

1-1/2 T olive oil

1 large leek, white and light green parts only, sliced and rinsed well

1 medium yellow onion, sliced

1 medium red onion, sliced

3 shallots, sliced

6 cipollini onions, sliced

3 cloves garlic, minced

1 T raw sugar

salt and pepper to taste

2-3 sprigs of fresh thyme

1-1/2 c. red wine

1/4 c. red wine vinegar

Directions

Heat the butter and olive oil in a lidded skillet or pan with a wide bottom until the butter is melted.

Add all the onions and garlic at once and season with salt and pepper. Stir briefly to mix the ingredients.

Cover the pan and over low heat, cook until the onions begin to soften, about 5 minutes.

Sprinkle the sugar evenly over the onion mixture, stir it in, then cover and allow to cook for an additional 5 minutes.

Now add the remainder of the ingredients. Gently stir to mix all the ingredients well, cover and allow to cook on the lowest heat possible, about 1 hour.

Check the pan occasionally to ensure there is still liquid in the pan. It should decrease gradually over the entire cooking time. If necessary add more wine a few tablespoons at a time in the first 30 minutes of cooking time only.

The onion mixture should be glossy and thick when done. Scrape the contents of the pan onto a wide platter and allow to cool to room temperature.

If not using immediately, place in a well covered container in the fridge.

Bring to room temperature before using.

Recipe Notes

If there was such a thing as swoon-worthy, this luxurious combination of flavors would certainly qualify.
Although I don’t have an official culinary bucket list, onion confit is something I’ve wanted to make for some time, so I’ve mentally checked it off my nonexistent list with great satisfaction and new understanding that no, onion confit is not the same as a skillet full of caramelized onions.
This recipe was adapted from one by Steve Sullivan who is the founder of the Acme Bread Company. It accompanies his Pizza with Onion Confit recipe in Baking with Julia.
So what’s the difference between a confit and a jam, or preserves, and does it matter? A confit preserves food either in fat — as in duck confit — or in sugar, such as with fruit. Think preserves, but with less sugar. But then again, this lemon confit recipe uses sugar and salt. It’s a toss up as far as I’m concerned.
From what I’ve researched, the terms are now used less to describe a method of preparation than the resulting product. For example, onion confit, which only contains a bit of fat and sugar, ends up being quite jammy in consistency. Fruit jam often contains pieces of the fruit in the end — hence, jam. Am I making any sense? If I’d chopped the onions, I’d be more inclined to call this a jam, but that’s my simple opinion.
Comparing many, many onion confit recipes, honestly, I see little difference. In most, sugar and acid in the form of vinegar is added to the onions to make the confit or jam. Ultimately, when I think of recipes that involve some kind of preservation, I think of ages long past when refrigeration didn’t exist, and people wanted to keep the food and flavors to last well past harvest time.
And speaking of harvest seasons, varieties, and all things onion, The National Onion Association is a great resource if you’re interested in knowing more — such as what the measurement of a “large” onion is as opposed to a “medium.”
And speaking of onions, the five “onions” I used for this confit are from the allium family, but not all onions, specifically.
Although I made this onion confit to accompany a pizza and sandwich, there are other great things to enjoy it with such as burgers, pasta, grilled meat, white beans, in or on meatloaf, in soup or bread. I’ve got this Tartlet of quail and quail eggs with onion confit on my mind. Think about the possibilities before you start and you’ll have a week’s worth of menu items lined up and ready to go!

More Onion Confit and Jam Recipes

Panini Happy — Roasted Garlic & Onion Jam

Kari’s Creations — Red Onion Confit

Delicious Days — Red Onion Confit with Port Wine

Kyotic Kitchen – Onion Confit

Homesick Texan — Spicy Red Onion Jam

Roasted Tomato Soup with Bacon, Cheese & Orzo

kellypea — Mon, 03 Oct 2011 22:28:53 +0000

My meager pot of tomato plants has finished producing and been cut back to a few stalks jutting from the dark soil they’ve been planted in since May, waiting for me to pull them up. But I’m lucky to have friends whose plants are still producing and thankfully willing to share. The challenge for me at times is knowing what to do with them because my own plants have rarely produced more than what we can eat in a salad. Often my timing is bad in being able to enjoy the lot — just how many tomatoes can two people eat at one sitting, right? Especially when my husband forgets to bring them home right away and they’re, well, soft.

Into the freezer they go — stems and all. I put them on a metal tray until they’re hard as rocks, then pour them into a plastic bag for later use. Last year I managed to save a bag until mid-February when it was a welcome addition to a hearty tomato squash soup. This year, I’ve already used one frozen bag, but still have two more in the freezer and will enjoy deciding what to make with them.

I’ll have to blame my need to use some of my frozen homegrown tomato stash on this Irish Blue Cheese and Tomato Soup recipe from Soup Chick. I’m a pushover to begin with because I love tomato soup, but I’ve never had it with blue cheese — let alone bacon. I was completely intrigued, so of course I had to try it. I had the tomatoes, but the recipe requires that they are roasted. Roasting isn’t a problem because I’ve roasted tomatoes several different ways and truly enjoy the flavor. However I’d never roasted thawed, frozen tomatoes.

I love a good food experiment, don’t you? Especially when the result is such a satisfyingly, tasty soup.

Roasted Tomato Soup with Bacon, Cheese, & Orzo Recipe

Ingredients

8 large roasted tomatoes, plus juice
olive oil
3 large cloves garlic
3 strips bacon, chopped
1 medium onion, roughly chopped
1 large stalk of celery, roughly chopped
1 orange bell pepper, stemmed, seeded, and chopped
1/4 cup all-purpose flour
4 cups vegetable broth, heated
4 oz blue cheese
2/3 cup whole milk
1 cup cooked whole wheat orzo, optional
salt & pepper to taste

Directions

Place whole tomatoes on a rimmed baking sheet covered with parchment and drizzle olive oil over. Smash the cloves of garlic with the side of a large knife, peel them and add them to the tomatoes. Sprinkle with a bit of salt and pepper.

Roast at 425 degrees F for 25-30 minutes.

While the tomatoes are roasting, if you plan to add the orzo to the soup, prepare that now according to package directions — al dente.

Remove from the oven and allow to cool enough to touch. If time is short, pour the tomatoes and their juice into a wide shallow bowl to quicken the cooling process.

When the tomatoes are cool, remove stems and skin and discard.

In a large pot, add the bacon and cook over medium high heat until the fat is rendered and the bacon is just beginning to brown around the edges. Remove the bacon pieces and place them in a small bowl to reserve.

Reduce the heat to medium low and add the onion, celery, and bell pepper. Allow to cook, stirring occasionally, just until softened, about 5 minutes.

Sprinkle the flour over the vegetables, stirring to incorporate, and allow to cook 1-2 minutes.

Stir the heated vegetable broth over the vegetables, stirring to scrape up any browned bits on the bottom of the pan. Allow to cook just until it begins to thicken, about 5 minutes.

Add the tomatoes and their juices, continuing to cook until the soup reaches a simmer.

Crumble the blue cheese over the soup and stir until melted.

If desired, use an immersion blender, blender, or food processor to puree the soup.

Pour in the milk and allow it to heat briefly, about 1 minute.

Stir in the the cooked orzo if including it in the recipe, then add the bacon pieces, reserving a few to garnish.

Recipe Notes:

The smaller yellow and orange tomatoes weren’t used in this recipe, but they could have been. I just wanted to show you how I do just pop them in the freezer. The first photo was taken earlier this past summer after I returned home from picking my dear friend’s tomatoes while she was on vacation. Lucky me! The second two were the last of my crop from last year which I gathered in mid-October right before we went on vacation. Amazing how my growing season was so much longer last year!
As usual when I’m inspired by a great recipe, I often don’t have exactly the same ingredients on hand. In the case of this soup, I was lacking the carrots, but had the bell pepper, and although they’re both orange, of course that’s not why I made the substitution. Both add a sweetness to the mix and if you consider the holy trinity of gumbo bases (onion, celery, and bell pepper), I knew I would be in the ball park. I had milk but not cream, found I was out of chicken broth so used veggie, and then only a partial package of blue cheese — about half the required quantity. And you know the story about the tomatoes from what I mentioned above.
About those tomatoes: My goodness they released quite a bit of water during the roasting — definitely more than what I’ve noticed when roasting fresh tomatoes. They end up being quite soft, but the good thing is, the skins are completely separated from the flesh, so you can pull them right out of the mix simply by using a fork to poke around in it. There’s no need to chop them, because they’re already so soft.
We truly enjoyed the flavors in this soup, and because we’re blue-veined cheese lovers, I have to make it again using the required amount of cheese. I used a mild blue-veined Brie for this recipe and it was a perfect choice. Nice an creamy.
Why the whole wheat orzo? I had it on hand for another meal and decided to add it the next day when I was enjoying a bowl of left-over soup for lunch. I was remembering a favorite tomato rice soup recipe and thought it might be similar. It was a great addition, but the soup is excellent without it as well.
Many thanks to Lydia who also writes The Perfect Pantry, for sharing such a great recipe.

More Tomato Soup Recipes:

What We’re Eating — Roasted Tomato Soup (and some incredible cheese bread!)

Sprouted Kitchen – Roasted Tomato Soup

Joylicious — Roasted Tomato Soup

Our Life in the Kitchen — Tomato Soup

Sassy Radish — Tomato Soup

Plum Cake

kellypea — Wed, 28 Sep 2011 01:45:27 +0000

Years ago when I purchased my favorite cookbook, Baking with Julia, I began to steadily go through it, deciding which recipes to try. This practice isn’t all that unusual, but at the time, baking was something I reserved for special occasions — birthdays, dinner parties, holidays — and always planned for on weekends, or when I had vacation time. If someone had asked, I’d have said I was more of a cook than a baker, and not always confident that what I baked would turn out as I wanted it to, so kept things safe with the basics. Cake, an occasional bread pudding, and pie were the norm.

The dust cover of the cookbook is now worn and slightly torn in a few places with spots and spills on many of the pages. Its sturdy binding has relaxed quite a bit, allowing it to comfortably lie open on my kitchen counter, sometimes for several days while I’m thinking about a particular recipe, glancing at it as I pass, wondering when the right time might be to indulge myself with a treat that doesn’t take a lot of time, or tackle something more complicated instead.

I think of so many different things when I open this particular cookbook, and most are not about the recipes. I think of younger boys still at home, occasions celebrating a kitchen renovation, or springtime in all its glory and a back yard groomed to perfection with my mother’s love and sweat. I think of a dinner party for six that lasted well into the night, meticulously planned for, each course paired with the perfect wine. I remember all that was lovely about a very special house, no longer ours to enjoy. So many things beyond recipes.

I don’t know that it matters which recipe I tried first from Baking with Julia, but of the 98 cookbooks I currently own, it’s the one I have baked more from than any other. Of course there are quite a few recipes I haven’t tried, and several which continue to taunt me, all seemingly beyond my ability or perhaps patience to contend with– the Pain de Camagne, for example, which is made by a very old chef-levain method requiring one to “capture and nurture airborne wild yeast” for the dough. But I have tried many more than once, like the Oven-Roasted Plum Cakes.

I’d waited forever to try the recipe, but when I saw a small bin of Italian prune plums at the market one day– something I’d not come across before — I knew they were destined for those plum cakes. I sorted through the deeply purple oval-shaped fruit to collect a small bag, noticing their dusty skins and stems still clinging to most. Some were quite firm, and others soft and fragile, like a ripe fig might feel. Or persimmon. I chose the firm plums finding that once sliced, the fruit easily separated from the stone unlike other plums such as Santa Rosas, which aren’t as cooperative. The interior color is a beautiful mix of melon and chartreuse and the flavor not as sweet as I’d thought it would be, but pleasant all the same.

They would be perfect for a whole plum cake rendition and thoughts while baking about times fondly remembered.

Plum Cake

Ingredients

4 oz. butter, room temp

2 T + 1/2 c. brown sugar

1/2 c. sugar

2 lg. eggs

1 tsp. lemon zest

1/2 tsp. vanilla

1 c. flour

3/4 tsp. baking soda

1/4 c. buttermilk

8 Italian prune plums

Directions

Preheat oven to 350 degrees F.

Brush butter on the sides and bottom of an 8″ round cake pan with a removable bottom. Cut a piece of parchment that fits the bottom and place that inside the cake pan. Butter that as well and set aside.

Using an electric mixer, cream the butter, 2 tablespoons of the brown sugar, and all of the granulated sugar on medium until the sugar is dissolved in the butter and the mixture is pale in color, about 5 minutes.

Add the eggs one at a time, mixing with each addition until completely incorporated, about 1 minute.

Add the lemon zest and the vanilla and continue to beat about 1 minute.

Add the flour and baking soda and mix on low speed just to incorporate into the wet ingredients.

Add the buttermilk and mix on low for half a minute.

Give the batter a few folds with a rubber spatula making sure the sides of the bowl are scraped in the process.

Pour the batter into the prepared cake pan.

Press each plum half cut side up into the batter, pressing lightly, but not allowing the fruit to be covered with the batter.

Sprinkle the brown sugar over the top of the plums and batter.

Bake on the center rack of the oven until golden brown and a tester inserted near the center is removed clean, about 25-30 minutes.

Remove the cake from the oven and cool on a baking rack at least 10 minutes before removing it from the pan.

Serve warm, if possible, with a lightly sweetened whipped cream mascarpone topping if desired.

Recipe Notes

The first time I made this recipe, I did make separate plum cakes which I loved. But you decide. The convenience of a whole cake is always a good thing, but the individual cakes allowed the plums to show. Ultimately, the taste is the same.
The original recipe doesn’t specify a type of plum, so have fun trying different plums or whatever you have available.
Evidently, I missed out on all the hooplah on the Plum Cake the New York Times published quite a few years ago. It’s a holiday tradition from what I understand, and it’s very similar to the one I’ve shared here with differences being in the butter and sugar quantities.
When I don’t have fresh buttermilk, I use a dry substitute and add water. It works quite well if you’re in a pinch.
You may have extra brown sugar. Either sprinkle it all over, or just sprinkle it on the plums. I went for it and the top is nice and crunchy.
This is a perfect coffee style cake and it keeps well if wrapped. To warm it up before serving, pop it in the microwave.
If you’re not familiar with Baking with Julia by Dorie Greenspan, there is more information here regarding the PBS program.

More Plum Cake Recipes to Enjoy

Guilty Kitchen — Plum Cake Recipe

food52 — Late Summer Plum Cake

Always Order Dessert — Evolution of a Plum Cake

The Wednesday Chef — Dorie Greenspan’s Dimply Plum Cake

Lemons and Lavender — Italian Plum Cake