“Chutney” Sauce for Pork Chops, Chicken Cutlets, Turkey Scallops …

I’m not entirely sure how it happens, but any refrigerator I’ve ever owned somehow becomes a halfway house for partially eaten jars of preserves, jams and marmalades. I have already confessed to an affinity for cooking and canning jams and such, so I suppose I have to take responsibility for creating an environment where these scraggily jars of fruity goodness might feel so totally comfortable to crash and nod about, forgotten in the junk yard of Smucker’s and such.

And while I’m claiming responsibilities, I have another small confession. As much as I enjoy creating preserves and purr like a fat ol’ cat counting up the jars on my basement shelf, a jeweler with his gems… I really don’t eat them so often. I think they taste incredible; it’s just not usually what I want first thing in the morning. And I’ve yet to schedule enough time for afternoon high tea. Though just the mention of it does make a lot of sense!

So it was with serious smug satisfaction that I was struck with inspiration last night as I studied a pair of naked pork chops destined for dinner. Now, when I begin to think about how to serve pork, my Midwestern heart opens up to fruit of any kind. I suspect this may be better attributed to Mama Gladys than the Midwest. To that lady, serving ham without applesauce was somehow as inappropriate as serving scrambled eggs raw.

I have plenty of friends whose kitchen history speaks more to pork chops with vinegar peppers, or thin fried pork chops smothered in gravy. But for me, I’m always looking to add some fruity sweetness cut by spice, smoke, citrus or herb. By now you see where I’m going, no?

Discretely bathing in the 40 watt glow of the top shelf of my refrigerator was a partial, dare I say half FULL, jar of Chambord Four Fruit Preserves from France. Gourmet quality the label boasted. Before it could say “Mon Dieu”, I had snatched it up and was headed toward the stove. A little onion, some left over red pepper, a few staples and I was on my way.

Try this on pork chops, of course, but I think it could also perk up grilled chicken breasts, sautéed turkey paillards, ham or maybe even grilled shrimp – depending on the fruit preserve you choose and adding lemon juice. Save any leftover sauce for sandwiches. It should last a week or more refrigerated.

Chutney Sauce for Pork, Chicken or Turkey

2 tablespoons olive oil
1/3 cup onion, finely diced
1/3 cup red pepper, seeded and finely diced
1 pinch crushed red pepper flakes
1 large garlic clove, minced
¼ cup vermouth or wine, red or white
½ cup preserves or marmalade – any flavor
½ cup chicken stock, preferably homemade
¼ cup water
1 teaspoon demi glace (useful if using canned broth, but optional)
1/8 teaspoon cinnamon
1/8 teaspoon picante smoked paprika (or chipotle chile powder)
½ teaspoon whole mustard seeds
salt & pepper to taste

Heat a medium sauté pan over high heat. Add oil and then onion and peppers. Sauté, stirring often until onion begins to soften. Add chile flakes and garlic. Stir for 1 minute. Add wine to deglaze pan. Then add preserves, stock, water, demi glace and spices. Simmer over high heat to reduce and thicken. When it reaches your desired consistency, season and serve.

I just know you are going to get some mileage out of this my lovelies. I’m not sure this will be successful with jellies, but beyond that, feel free to push the envelope. Make it just for sandwiches. Serve it with your cheese platter. Go guava, go fig, push pineapple, who said mango?

Later you beautiful people…
Contented eating,
Big Mary

Cabbage and Cauliflower with Orange Spice

Often, in my desire to cook in sync with the seasons I overlook obvious vegetables. Such was the case the other day when I discovered a forgotten half head of cabbage in the vegetable drawer earlier this week.

While I happily indulge in the occasional German Braised Red Cabbage, I instinctually relegate green cabbage to cole slaw. Something I really love, but that big green head deserves to relish in its full 15 minutes of fame. Maybe even a half hour or more, as I really love the richness it gets from slow cooking.

I have long been a fan of braising a thick cut shred of cabbage with butter and stock, which I then fold into rough mashed potatoes. An around the corner homage to Colcannon, a classic Irish dish. And I’m on it like clockwork every Saint Paddy’s day with my Corned Beef and Cabbage.

However, a few days ago, my discovery of the forgotten cabbage in the fridge coincided with my inkling to make a chicken curry dish. I dimly remembered dinners past in the curry mall of E. 6th Street here in NYC. Every dish it seemed , arrived with braised cabbage and dhal (yellow split peas). So, no blind monkey here, I recognized the potential for a happy marriage of the cabbage and the curry.

As the curried chicken was big on flavor, I was looking to create a dish that had enough balls to hold it’s own, while adding sufficient mystery to round out the plate. I happily submit the results.

Cabbage and Cauliflower with Orange Spice (serves 2 or 4)

½ cup onion, chopped
¼ head small green cabbage, cut into one inch squares
1 tablespoon olive oil
salt & pepper
3 whole cloves
1 ½ cups cauliflower florettes (approximate)
1 teaspoon tangerine zest (or orange)
¼ cup dry vermouth
1 tablespoon unsalted butter

Heat a large skillet over medium heat. Add oil and when hot add onions and cabbage. Sauté, stirring constantly to avoid browning. Add salt, pepper and whole cloves. If needed, add a tablespoon or two of water to slow cooking. When Cabbage is about halfway cooked, add cauliflower, zest and vermouth. Cover and continue to cook over medium low heat. After 2 minutes toss in the butter, swirl it around and return to heat with cover. Continue to cook until cabbage is soft and cauliflower is cooked, but still has a “bite”. Check seasoning, remove the whole cloves and serve.

And so my niblets, I encourage you to grab a “head” and get busy. Cabbage is just mild enough to be the canvas, yet present enough to tint the paint.

Contented eating and sassy sautéing,
Big Mary

Indonesian Style Beef Brisket Rendang

Oh, ya know, sometimes I just need to shake it up! Big Mary’s been cooking without a major audience for several months now. Much as I don’t miss the daily grind of shoveling hotel pans of tilapia and pounds of pasta salad of the day out the door, I must confess to falling into a routine of home cooking that doesn’t exactly keep my tasting spoon at the ready.

That is why, when faced with a lovely, beefy cut of brisket the other day, I stopped myself from grabbing the classic mirepoix and instead sat myself down in front of my library. If you are anything like me, you have cookbooks you’ve forgotten you ever bought, let alone really read. Case in point, Fire & Spice – 200 Hot & Spicy Recipes from the Far East by Jackie Passmore. When I first found this book, (in a marked down section of some used bookstore no doubt), I was immediately drawn to the HUGE flavor profile all of the recipes have. If you’ve ever graced my table, you know I’m no timid flower when it comes to flavor. So, all her talk of Asian chilies, sambals, lemongrass, kaffir lime, Szechuan peppercorn and coconut milk were a siren’s song of Southeast Asian seduction to me.

That being said, one I managed to resist for years, given the build up of dust on the binding! Nevertheless, there I was, brisket in hand, searching for inspiration. Oh Lord, what a picture! I was caught by her recipe for Beef Rendang, a dish I’d made years ago for an Indonesian ristafell. Beef Rendang is normally a somewhat dry, braised dish of beef strips, glazed by a reduction of coconut milk, spices and onion. Why not, I thought, treat my beautiful brisket in this manner. Turns out, it was an inspired perversion. Here is my Indonesian Beef Brisket freely adapted from her recipe.

Beef Brisket “Rendang”

2 ½ pounds beef brisket, cleaned and trimmed
2 tablespoons vegetable oil
salt and pepper (szechuan pepper if possible)
2 small dried bay leaves
1 1/3 cups coconut milk
1 small tomato - peeled, seeded, chopped (or ½ cup canned diced tomato)
1 tablespoon dark soy sauce
¼ teaspoon whole szechuan peppercorns
1 ½ teaspoon whole coriander seed
1 teaspoon ground cinnamon
1 ½ teaspoon whole cumin seed
1 medium onion – chopped (1 very generous cup)
2 medium garlic cloves – chopped
1 stalk lemongrass – cleaned and tender section chopped
2 tablespoons fresh ginger – peeled and minced
2 tablespoons cilantro stems
1 teaspoon Sriracha hot sauce
1 tablespoon tamarind paste (thick Indian style)
1 tablespoon dark brown sugar
¼ cup cilantro leaves, chopped

Preheat oven to 325 degrees.
Preheat a medium skillet over high heat. Season the brisket with salt and pepper. Heat the oil in skillet and brown brisket on both sides to a rich deep brown color.
Transfer beef brisket to an oven proof dish with lid. Add 1 cup coconut milk, bay leaves, tomato and soy sauce. Cover dish and put in the oven for 15 minutes.
In the meantime, toast Szechuan peppercorns, coriander seed and cumin seed in a dry skillet over high heat. Set aside to cool and grind in spice grinder until finely ground. Add ground cinnamon.
Put prepared onion, garlic, lemongrass, ginger, cilantro stems, spices and Sriracha sauce into a blender. Add remaining 1/3 cup coconut milk. Process until smooth.
Heat a sauté pan and add the onion coconut milk mixture. Simmer over medium heat for 5 minutes or so. Sauce will darken slightly.
Remove beef from the oven after the 15 minutes, and add the onion coconut milk mixture. Pour the mixture over the beef, stir to combine and return to oven for another 2 ½ hours or so. Beef Brisket should be fork tender.
Remove from oven and stir in Tamarind paste and brown sugar. When cooled 30 minutes or so remove brisket and slice thinly across the grain. Serve with re-warmed sauce from the casserole and basmati rice. Garnish with chopped cilantro leaves.
Note: can be made 1 or 2 days in advance and reheated.

You’ll still want to make your Mamaw’s version of Braised Brisket when that’s what you want, but this will likely become your alternate version for “shaking it up”.
Contented Eating and Inspired Cooking my sweets.
Big Mary

Roast Salmon with Yogurt and Horseradish

Over the holidays, we had a superbly delicious dinner at Tanoreen, a Palestinian restaurant deep in Brooklyn. I would have never known about it without an invitation from one of my dear friends and great Chef, himself a Mid East mutt with a trans border heritage of Israeli, Palestinian and Greek. The place is a small, table packed, home style jewel run by an enthusiastic Nazareth native as a paean to the cooking closest to her heart.

As she circulates, only occasionally, through the restaurant to check on her customers, she does so with the immense pride of someone who KNOWS “how everything is”. She’s just too much in control of her kitchen not to know. Yet that tight reign seems to have a gentle hand, and in fact that’s what makes the food so bright in flavor, so light on the tongue. This food manages to taste familiar, at the first bite. No matter if you grew up, as I did, in deep Midwest, generation upon generation removed from a grape leaf or chickpea. I feel this is all a reflection on the honesty with which Chef Rawia Bishara treats her ingredients.

Should you ever have the treat of visiting her restaurant at 7704 3rd Avenue in Bay Ridge, Brooklyn, spend a few moments with Chef Rawia tableside and learn a bit about how she approaches cooking. It’s easy, just ask her anything about how a dish is made, or where that new/old familiar flavor is coming from in the lamb shank, or the kibbeh, or the cauliflower salad. That’s how I learned they make all of the yogurt they use, in house; cultivated from naturally occurring bacterium. The difference is delicious.

Inspired by her purity of flavors and commitment to quality, I have been dusting off my spice grinder and sifting through the middle eastern markets of Atlantic Avenue in Brooklyn. Though not quite ready to whip up a batch of home cultured yogurt, I was excited to find a quart of whole milk plain yogurt with which to make some yogurt cheese. While you can make yogurt cheese with the more common lowfat yogurt typically found in supermarkets, you’ll enjoy a much richer result if you can source a full fat/whole milk product. Try natural food stores or ethnic markets.

Making yogurt cheese is second only to boiling water when it comes to ease of preparation.

Find a clean sieve and set it over a larger bowl where it can rest securely with sufficient clearance beneath to catch the draining liquid. Line the sieve with 3 or 4 layers of cheesecloth. I have also substituted coffee filters for the cheesecloth with great results. Place the plain yogurt in the lined sieve, cover loosly, and refrigerate the entire contraption for at least 12 hours.

The consistency of the yogurt cheese is entirely up to you, depending upon how you wish to use it. If I plan to make it into Tzatziki, I might let it drain a little more than if I plan to use it in my salmon recipe. It’s all up to you. My talented Chef buddy who introduced me to Tanoreen lets his drain for several days until he can roll bite sized yogurt cheese “truffles” which he marinates and cures in his special sourced Israeli Olive Oil. These are precious gifts he shares with his friends, of which I am happily and graciously one.

Tzatziki
I’m not going to give you exact recipes as I want you to find the balance of flavor that seems perfect to your palate. I will give you an indication of what works for me.
Set aside 1 cup of drained yogurt cheese. Peel one large cucumber and cut it into 3 inch sections. Using the large holes of a box grater, coarsely grate one section of the cucumber, stopping when you reach the seeds. Rotate the cucumber until you have grated all of the “meat” and discard the center seed section. Continue until you have grated all of the cucumber pieces. Place the shredded cucumber in a bowl and toss generously with kosher salt. Use at least 2 teaspoons. Place the cucumber in a sieve, place plastic wrap directly on the cucumber then cover with a plate and something to weigh it down. I find canned good work great. Place the weighted sieve over a bowl to catch the juices which will be released form the cucumbers. Allow to sit at room temperature for a minimum of 20 minutes, but an hour is better.
Meanwhile, take one small clove of garlic and mince it finely. When it is finely chopped, add a few pinches of salt. Using a table fork, mash the garlic with the salt until it forms a paste. Add this to the reserved yogurt cheese. In addition, add about ½ teaspoon of dried mint leaf. Set seasoned yogurt cheese aside.
When cucumber has rested and drained, remove sieve from the bowl (reserving drained cucumber juice) and rinse the cucumber thoroughly under cold running water. Squeeze the cucumber dry and mix into yogurt mix. Stir in a tablespoon or so of excellent extra virgin olive oil. At this point I like to stir in a bit of the reserved cucumber liquid. Not traditional, but I enjoy the boost of cucumber flavor. When the Tzatziki is at your desired consistency check for salt and pepper, season to taste and enjoy. It is great served with warm pide bread or pita toasts. Also delicious as a relish for grilled meats.

Another use I have developed for yogurt cheese is …

Salmon with Yogurt and Horseradish – serves two

¾ pound salmon filet
1/3 cup yogurt cheese
2 tablespoons prepared horseradish, lightly squeezed
1 pinch freshly grated nutmeg
1 teaspoon fresh dill, finely chopped (optional)
salt & pepper

Preheat convection oven to 350*, conventional oven to 375*.
Clean salmon filet of pin bones and remove skin. Cut into two portions, season with salt & pepper and set aside. Combine yogurt cheese, horseradish, nutmeg and dill (if using). It should be about the consistency of cake frosting. If the yogurt was drained to an extremely thick texture, you may want to add a tiny bit of water. Cover the tops of the salmon portions with the yogurt mixture, as if frosting a cake.
Place on a lightly oiled baking sheet and roast for 5 – 10 minutes depending on thickness of filets. My preference is for the salmon center to be still rosy. It will continue to cook after it leaves the oven.
This is delicious served with orzo, all grains, even tabouleh.

Now go have fun and experiment with yogurt cheese. It keeps for over a week if the yogurt was fresh when you bought it.

Pecan Chipotle Soup

Breaking a long held and deeply cherished tradition of isolationism, Big Mary and the handsome Venezuelan hosted a New Year’s Eve dinner last December 31st. Nothing too boisterous, just a tasteful dinner for 6 of our best friends, a careful assembly of personalities and intelligence that would encourage a smooth yet entertaining entry for the New Year.

Now you should know about me that the mere mention of a party of any sort sets into motion a temporary storm of “Bi-Polarism” that forms a black cloud over my head and follows me into any nook or cranny where I might hide. I love the idea of cooking for friends and feeding them, yet I equally hate the idea of risking serving a dish less than perfect. I love the idea of serving a table full of interesting, perfectly purchased cheeses, cured meats, breads, smoked fish and condiments, but I hate my imagined belief that my friends are arriving, expecting me to whip up something truly show stopping. I love the idea of sitting with friends for a leisurely repast of simple foods and outstanding wines, yet I seem incapable of creating a menu that allows for me to be anywhere other than stove-side assembling said “leisurely repast”. Well, by now you have the idea.

True to form, my first menu for the evening consisted of 3 hors d’oeuvres selections, followed by 8 courses of small plates, dessert and petites fours. All lubricated with five wine selections, port and prosecco. It’s like a disease!
But thank the Goddess, at some moment the little voice in my head began to wail and keen with grief over the apparent loss of my mind, and that somehow got my attention. With the calm presence of someone flirting with reality, I was able to edit this meal into a feast that was celebratory yet didn’t require two intermissions.

Here is the menu I ended up with. Still a bit over the top, but it shows gallons of growth for me!

Crudites of Haricots Verts, Radish and Sugar Snaps with Lemon Dill Aioli, Sweet and Savory Roasted Almonds and Walnuts, Plantain Chips

Pecan Chipotle Soup – Served in DemiTasse

Seviche of Sea Scallops with Meyer Lemon and Blood Orange
On Shaved Fennel, Hearts of Palm and Avocado Salad

Braised Boneless Short Ribs of Beef
On Mashed Yukon Gold Potatoes and Celery Root

Baby Arugula with Roasted Beets, Pistachios and Proscuitto
Pistachio Vinaigrette

Caramel Roasted Pears on Sesame Pastry Disc with Sour Cream Gelato

The Soup was pretty much universally applauded, so I have included my recipe for it below. It is adapted from a recipe of Iliana de la Vegas.
It’s outrageously rich , so small portions are in order. Depending on the quality of your blender and how finely you strain it, this soup can be presented anywhere on the spectrum of high-end finesse to homey and soul warming. I prefer it somewhere in the middle.

Pecan Chipotle Soup – serves 6 - 12

4 tablespoons unsalted butter
2 teaspoons fresh garlic, minced
½ cup onion, finely chopped
8 ounces pecan pieces
2 ounces country white bread - not sourdough – cut small
3 medium canned plum tomatoes
4 cups whole milk
1 ½ cups strong chicken stock
2 tablespoons canned chipotle chiles in adobo – chopped
1 pinch fresh grated nutmeg
1 tablespoon fresh lemon juice
fresh chopped cilantro for garnish

In a large pot, melt butter over medium heat. Add garlic, onion, pecan pieces and bread and gently sauté until all ingredients are toasted and aromatic. About 8 – 10 minutes.
Transfer pecan mix into a blender. Add tomatoes, chipotles, and some of the milk. Puree until VERY smooth.. Return to the pot and add the remaining milk, stock and nutmeg. Warm and check seasoning for salt & pepper. Strain through a sieve, discarding remaining solids. Soup may be cooled and refrigerated at this point for several days.
When ready to serve, rewarm gently, add lemon juice, check for seasoning and serve garnished with cilantro.
NOTE: This soup may be made vegetarian by substituting more milk for the chicken stock..

Chicken with Leeks and Fennel

Once again, a New Year; which means economy; both financially and calorically. Normally this would be enough to send me into a two week spiral of bitterness and revenge. After all, what’s Life without treats?

On the other hand, my freezer really has been begging for reorganization and restoration. And this will be the last chance to use up those extras from the New Year’s Eve soiree.. So I thought a refrigerator surprise dinner might be just the challenge I needed to snap me out of my feelings of deprivation.

After jettisoning a few freezer burned pork chops, regretfully dismissing some of last summer’s tart cherries that never made it to the preserving pot, and tossing several sauces that refused current identification; I was left with some forgotten but still useful pints of chicken stock, pancetta scraps that will come in handy for flavoring braises to come, and chicken thighs that were still in serviceable shape.
The refrigerator enjoyed a similar purging of the forgotten and unusable, and rewarded me with a few leeks, half a bulb of fennel, rosemary remnants and leftover cauliflower. I liked what I saw, and began to feel more pampered than deprived as I set the chicken thighs to defrost.

Braised Chicken Thighs with Leeks and Fennel
Roasted Cauliflower and Brown Rice – Serves 2

4 Chicken thighs on the bone – skin removed
1 Leek - sliced thinly crosswise and WELL washed – about 2/3 cup
½ head Fennel – core removed and thinly sliced
Rosemary – finely minced – about ½ teaspoon
White Wine and Chicken Stock
Cauliflower – cut into medium florettes
Brown Rice

Preheat oven to 325 degrees. Cook brown rice according to package directions. When finished, stir in some chopped scallion if desired and keep warm.

Heat a small/medium sauté pan. Over medium heat, brown the seasoned chicken thighs in oil. Don’t let the pan get too hot, and patiently achieve delicious color on the thighs. When browned on both sides, throw about ½ cup wine into the sauté pan. After the wine has simmered up, remove the chicken thighs to a small casserole. Scrape the pan to get up all of the flavor and then pour the reduced wine over the chicken.

Return sauté pan to heat, add a bit more oil and heat to medium. Add leeks and sauté for a minute or so. Add the fennel and rosemary, season with salt & pepper and continue to sauté until vegetables are beginning to soften. Add chicken stock and heat until simmering. (Note: adjust seasoning if using canned chicken broth. Homemade stock will need more salt typically) When hot, pour mixture on top of chicken thighs.

This dish will cook best when it loosely fills the casserole. Too tight and it won’t cook evenly, too much space and the flavor will be weak. Cover casserole tightly or wrap with foil and set in preheated oven. Cook about 30 - 40 minutes, until chicken is very tender, but still lightly clinging to the bone. Remove from oven and keep warm in the covered casserole.

Raise oven heat to 450 degrees. Place a foil lined baking sheet in the oven to preheat. Toss cauliflower lightly with oil, salt and pepper. When oven is preheated, remove baking sheet, pour cauliflower on sheet and place in oven. After 6 minutes toss cauliflower to achieve even browning and return to oven until cooked to desired consistency.

Serve chicken thighs over rice accompanied with cauliflower.

Spring is ... there

Here we are, Big Mary and the Handsome Venezuelan, happily trapped in La Casa Amarilla. Up to our cheeks in snow. I'll let you picture just which cheeks...
Meanwhile, I'm stressed out about the Marketing Event next Wednesday for the "day job" where we are going to celebrate the first day of Spring.

As I've ranted before, there are so few oppotunities to cook seasonally; that, cooking within the confines of what is (and used to be) purely seasonal does add a lift into my already light tread. There are the usual suspects: asparagus, peas, strawberries; but of course these are the same suspects that have now become year round harbingers of Spring. I wanted to also focus on morel mushrooms, rhubarb, fresh goat cheese, Spring lamb, baby greens and fava beans.

Given that the choice of theme was, how shall I say... Less than original? Yeah, that says it. I wanted the evidence of Spring in the menu to be somewhat subliminal. First priority - delicious. Next - innovative, and Finally - Spring. The truth of the matter is, Spring flavors speak for themselves. If not obscured, they bring that bright green, herbaceous, subtle, fresh element into whatever dish you place them into.

Hors D'oeuvres are my absolute, hands down favorite kitchen medium. It's just more bang for the buck, with less risk. For me, that's just a slice of heaven.
We'll be serving:

Smoked Trout Rillettes with Horseradish Cream on Potato Crisps
I make a smoked trout salad with no mayo or cream. Just fine chopped fennel, radish, chive and dill; mixed into broken up smoked trout with thyme oil and lemon juice. Crisp fried potato squares, a dab of horseradish cream and topped with smoked trout rillettes.

Buttermilk Minted Pea Soup with Mint Granita
Served in a demitasse cup, this is a cold pea soup. I use frozen peas, they're just more reliable. Saute some shallots, add the thawed peas, chopped scallion and vegetable stock. Puree with fresh mint leaves and chill quickly. Add buttermilk and seasoning to taste.
Make a strong flavored mint tea, with a small amount of sugar. Turn this into a grantita which garnishes the soup.

Zucchini Corn Cakes with Goat Cheese and Tomato Basil Salsa
Really more summer, but needed some veg options. I just make a cormeal pancake batter and add it to shredded (squeezed dry ) zucchini to make bite sized pancakes. Top with whipped montrachet chevre and a salsa of red & yelow tomatoes with basil. I developed this recipe for Martha Stewart Everyday, so if anyone want's it, post a comment. Work's full size too.

Moroccan Lamb in Kataifi Nests
Make kataifi nests by buttering mini muffin pans and sprinkling lightly with sugar. Pull off a small amount of kataifi (shredded phyllo) and swirl into a bird's nest. Place in prepared mini muffin tin, sprinkle with melted butter, cinnamon and sugar. Bake until crisp.
Seperatly, saute ground lamb with diced onions, Moroccan spices, harissa and currants. Finish with a tiny splash of orange flower water. Fill the nests with the warm lamb mix. Pipe a small amount of lebne(or drained yogurt)on top and add a tiny sliver of preserved lemon peel.

Bresaola with Favas
Toast mini crostini of semolina baguette with garlic oil. Set aside. Peel and blanch fava beans. Chill in ice water. Peel again and set aside half. Puree one half with olive oil , salt & pepper. Rough chop remaining half. Slice bresaola into slivers and combine with rough chopped favas and extra virgin olive oil; about a 50/50 mix of beans and beef. Using a vegetable peeler, create chards of peppercorn romano cheese. Schmear a bit of fava puree on each crostini. Top with a portion of the fava bresaola mix. Garnish with a pepper romano chard.

Thai Crab with Minted Cucumber Relish
Make a Thai green curry sauce with green curry paste, galangal, fish sauce, kaffir lime leaves, sugar and mayonnaise. Clean some jumbo lump crab and combine with chopped scallion and fine diced red pepper. Add green curry sauce to taste. Fine dice cucumber and heavily season with salt. Press and drain for 20 minutes or so. Rinse well and combine with Indian mint chutney, rice wine vinegar and sugar. Set aside. Fry mini popadum from Indian market. Combine hors d'oeuvres by placing a small amount of crab salad on popadum and garnish with minted cucumber salsa.

Parmesan Beignets of Italian Greens
Saute swiss chard, spinach, escarole and sweet dandelion greens (each variety seperately) with a touch of garlic. When cool, squeeze dry. Combine with fresh ricotta cheese (if store bought, drain over night), fresh ground nutmeg, a touch of Parmesan cheese and salt & pepper. Roll into balls, dredge in flour, then eggs, then a 50/50 mix of parmesan cheese and bread crumbs. Freeze and fry to order.

Confit of Duck with Fresh Morels in Mini Corn Cups
You got me. I'm gonna have to pull this one out of my nether regions! And that's IF I find fresh morels.

In a few days, I'll post the rest of the menu and a killer/easy recipe for truffles. Just didn't want to leave my kids alone for too long....

Contented eating,
Big Mary

The best wines found in Pennsylvania... Who'da thought?

As much as the Handsome Venezuelan and I enjoy, cherish and thrive at La Casa Amarilla in the Poconos, the fact that wine and liquor sales are goverened by the Commonwealth of Pennsylvania has usually prompted us to shuttle our wines from our local wine vendor here in Park Slope, Brooklyn.

Before I proceed, let me tip the turban to these lovely folk at Slope Cellars on 7th and 15th here in Brooklyn. Their entire back section of Slope Cellars is filled with "Cheap & Tasty" wines, that have rarely failed to please. All wines boxed here (as opposed to shelved) are 10 bucks or less, and we've found quite a few memorable quaffs here.

In a similar vein, I have been tickled fuschia with the new development at my "State Store" in Pennsylvania. They have instigated a new program called Chairman's Selection, using the entire state's buying power to get some great prices on some outstanding wines.

Not sure who this "Chairman" is, but I'd love to bend my elbow with him/her over a few weekends, cause this muthafuka knows wine. We've not had one bottle that disappointed us. And then there were a few that just slapped us in the face and made us sit in a corner till we felt humbled.

Here's two that deserve a long drive to find...
Australian Grant Burge Barossa Shiraz 2004
Exceptional balance with a perfect tannin presence. Just dries the palate enough to let the flavor of the wine sit there until the next sip, even if it's 5 minutes later. Full fruit, but all plum, prune and bing cherry, nothing bright and berry here. The wood flavor is so integrated you don't experience it as the oakey barrel flavor you get used to. More chocolate and earth.

This Shiraz reminded us both of a French Bordeaux 1998 St Estephe we brought back from Paris. That wine was about $28 in Paris in 2003. This beauty was $10 this weekend. I can only hope there's a case left when we return Friday night. They suggest it could handle up to 10 years of cellaring. For me, that's the greatest challenge this wine presents. Purchasing enough to have some left in 2014.

Chilean Montes Sauvignon Blanc 2006
This wine makes me want to have a restaurant just so I can make this my house white.
I've already given a bottle of this to Uptown/Downtown Eastside Lady C as well as Isla Sue. Haven't heard their opnions, but every time I open another bottle, I am infatuated all over again. It's so bright and crisp it reminds me of a Portuguese Vihno Verde. Neither the HandVen or I can decide if the slight effervensence is in our minds or our glasses. (Some have opined that the effervesence is in our heels. We decline comment.) Lots of citrus, especially grapefruit in a glass of this Sauvingnon Blanc, also fields of green grassiness. Exceptionally bright and acidic, probably too much for some, but I just find it an exceptionally gifted teenager of a wine. We bought the last two bottles on Saturday. Please order more Mr. Chairman.

I know I promised input of Chile. I'll try to get back on that track soon.

For now my pretties, Contented Eating (and Drinking)
Big Mary

Building a Better Meatloaf ...

As a catering chef clients often ask me to put together an American menu for them. Over the years I've learned there are damn few items that can honestly claim the title. "Meat loaf" a client argues, but really, isn't it just poor man’s pate? "Beef stew" they challenge, but we all know there are several versions whose recipes were in the knapsacks of the early settlers. "Hot dogs".... it's called a frankfurter Helen. "Apple pie".... don't get me started.

By now, you must be waving your hand as high as the smart kid in the back of Sister Imelda's 4th grade classroom. Yes we know ... there are a few truly American dishes, at least in my opinion. Southern Fried Chicken comes to mind, and Chicken Fried Steak. Barbecue in general. Clam, fish and corn chowders, though I seem to recall the word chowder comes from a French word. Several mythic stewpots, Brunswick for example, Gumbo or Burgoo. All I'm saying is, there's not as much truly American food as you might think, once you rule out Velveeta, Condensed Soups and Tuna Melts.

What we clever Americans can claim, is an inspired ability for improvisation and adaptation to what's on hand. So it may have been with that immigrant mother from Bordeaux who was faced with a pound of meat, a few eggs and a loaf of stale bread to feed her new American family of 10. Drawing on her own tradition, she forged a new one. An inspired one, to my Midwestern palate. Pate's all well and good and perfect on a crouton with dijon, cornichons and a flacon of Cote du Rhone, but it's not what's called for on a plate with mashed potatoes, mushroom gravy, string beans and horseradish. And true to my colors, Big Mary would easily sacrifice a life time of pate over the possibility of a lifetime without meat loaf.

Meat Loaf is also one of those dishes whose quality we most often determine by how close to our mama's recipe it is. Indeed Mama Gladys set my standard, but I have researched a few innovations that I offer to the next generation. Inspired by the Handsome Venezuelan's recent diet success I've done some research to make meat loaf, if not diet food, at least more waist watcher friendly.

The classic meatloaf mix is 1/3 each ground beef, veal and pork. If you are open to it, go for it. It truly makes the penultimate meatloaf. But if looking for a less caloric version, feel free to go with ground turkey breast or the leanest ground beef offered, the mushrooms in this recipe guarantee a tender moist loaf. I've also called for fresh whole wheat bread crumbs. The fresh bread crumbs provide a lighter product and the whole wheat adds some fiber which reduces the carbohydrate effect. This feeds 3 - 4 people. I believe it should multiply easily.


Big Mary's Meatloaf
1 tablespoon vegetable oil
3/4 cup onion, finely chopped
1 large garlic clove, finely minced
1 tablespoon fresh thyme, finely chopped
1/2 cup carrot, shredded
1/4 cup dry vermouth or white wine
1 cup (approximately 1/3#) white mushrooms, very finely chopped (use a food processor)
1 pound ground meat
1 large egg (or equivalent egg substitute)
1 Tablespoon Worcestershire Sauce
1/3 cup ketchup
1/2 teaspoon salt
Fresh ground pepper to taste
1 cup fresh whole wheat bread crumbs

Glaze:
1/2 cup ketchup
1/2 cup hoisin sauce

Preheat oven to 350*
Heat a large skillet over medium high heat. Add oil, and then onion and garlic. Sauté a few minutes until onion begins to wilt. Add chopped thyme and carrot. Sauté 2 more minutes. Add white wine, cook 1 more minute and remove from heat. Set aside to cool.
Combine ground meat, egg, Worcestershire sauce, ketchup, salt, pepper, bread crumbs and cooled onion mix. Mix thoroughly, and form into a loaf approximately 5 " X 10". Place on a foil lined baking sheet.
Bake for 20 - 25 minutes or until an instant read thermometer reads 145* when inserted into the center of the meatloaf.
Make the glaze by mixing the ketchup and hoisin in a bowl. Brush liberally over the meat loaf and return to the oven for 10 minutes or so until temperature reads 155*. Remove from oven and let meatloaf rest for 5 - 10 minutes before slicing.

There you have it my pretties. And I predict if you have any leftovers, you'll be fighting over meatloaf sandwiches on toasted white bread. Next time we're going to be talking chili, another American food improvisation.

Contented Eating,
Big Mary

Time and Space Travel in Little Italy

Lately I'm finding myself reminded of how much time I am not spending in New York City. True, I'm on the road at 6:30am every Monday through Friday; my Honda's tires entrenched in the ruts of my daily commute from Park Slope to the Lower East Side. And I faithfully retrace the route after my 10 hours of managing the food fuel for hundreds of corporate drones like myself. That's all metrocentric enough. Then comes Friday night and I pick up the HV (Handsome Venezuelan) at his corporate hive and we're off to the rural bliss of La Casa Amarilla in the Poconos.

Now this decompression time with our forest, fireplace, birds, deer and tree house like deck are as vital to me as oxygen, good living and reasonably priced wine. But, I am sad that I've paid the harsh price of urban disconnect to achieve it. The reality of NYC is this... it takes time, energy and commitment to reap the rewards this town offers, especially given the long work week its economy imposes.

My old job was situated in Long Island City, Queens; so I was hip to all the Pan Asian-Latino doings of Jackson Heights and Woodside as well as the Italo-Greco treasures of Astoria. My current gig allows for up to date info of Chinatown, but that's about it, or so I thought.

Last Friday found Big Mary with time to kill about 4pm, while waiting for the HV to finish up at 7 or so. Despite the significant chill, I set out from work to explore local stores and perhaps pick up some treats for our late night dinner when we arrived in Pennsylvania. I knew I could pick up some great Vietnamese Bahn Mi sandwiches for the car ride(incredibly delicious pork, pate, pickled carrot, daikon and cilantro on warm baguette), but I had hopes of one of those great NYC moments of discovering a store that only exists in the time and place of where you are, NYC. I buttoned up my coat and headed west until I saw neon signs advertising Clam Bars, Caffe and Fresh Mozzarella.

Now, what many of you from west of the Hudson may not realize is that Little Italy doesn't much exist anymore. There is Mulberry Street, loaded with touristic restaurants that send out (for the most part) mediocre Italo-American fare. But the neighborhood has been swallowed by the swelling populace of Chinatown, and one is hard pressed to find many Italian-Americans living there anymore. And with that exodus comes the unavoidable waning of authenticity of experience.

None of this is a concern however, once you pass through the door at DiPalo's of Little Italy. This first thing that confronts you is a red number dispenser urging you to "Take a number, please." Accept this as encouragement that you are in the right place for the real thing. Take your number, and enjoy the down time to peruse the shelves of Italian (and a few vicarious Mediterranean) pleasures. You'll find pasta shapes you've never experienced before, Sandinian Carta di Musica, Italian butters, homemade raviolis, tortellonis, mostardis, Italian crackers and breadsticks, forest honey and more formaggi and salumi than you knew existed.

However, it's the service that sends you directly to Italy, do not pass Go, do not collect $200. It's not exactly timely, and that's the point. Time needs to be allowed for local gossip, news from Italy, suggestions on proper neo-natal care and the relative differences of Proscuitto San Danielle and Proscuitto di Parma. But once your number is called, they are going to spend as much time with you as if you were a true Medici. A request for a cheese's description will not only inform you of the type of milk used and the region where it is made, but a hearty sample proffered on the end of a cheese knife.

That happy Friday I was selecting between five cheeses. A perfectly ripe goat doble crema whose name escapes me, but whose happy goat label I know I'll remember. This was an immediate purchase. Next I tasted a sublime Piave Vechio, cow's milk from the Veneto; often dry and lackluster, but DiPalo's offered a perfect specimen, rich, yielding and slightly nutty. Next a Fontina style Stelvio form Alto Adige, softer and mouth filling. Also a cow's milk cheese I'd never seen before, Crucolo from the Trentino, Morbier like but richer, rounder and fuller in flavor. Finally Pecorino D'Oro from Sardinia which reminded me of Dutch aged Gouda, but uniquely sharp and without the caramel flavors of aged Gouda. Instead it retained its grassy earthy flavors. I limited myself to the Crucolo and the creamy goat disc.

I rounded out our late night picnic with a quarter pound of Proscuitto di Parma, some plump olives and crusty Italian bread. As a real treat I purchased a half pound canister of wood roasted coffee from Sant Eustachio on good faith. Di Palo is the only US store to import this from the renowned caffe near the Pantheon in Rome. My faith turned out to be well placed on Saturday morning.

And so my precious ones, my soul feels a bit renewed, and I am once again reminded of why I work so hard to live where I live. Now I want all of you to find what's special and unique in your market and spend some money there. People like the DiPalo's and their compatriots deserve to reap some rewards for what they do, whether they are at your farmer's market or ethnic enclave, be it Italian, Polish, Portuguese or Filipino.

Contented eating,
Big Mary

Smooth, Smooth Soups

As food groups go, soups rank somewhere between 10 and 11 on a scale of 10 for me. And I must admit, that ranking is based on the joy of making them, even more than consuming them. I'm infatuated with the enormous range available for culinary play. The trek from Chicken Noodle to Vietnamese Chicken Pho just tickles Big Mary's fancy in a way that should probably fall under the censorship of some culinary Big Brother.

So, I was secretly pleased when the stars aligned to create the "perfect storm" of soup demand at my corporate kitchen this week. The fact that it co-aligned with a slow week of business blessing me with the time to play was, well... inspired. Not only were we bestowed with the first snowfall of the season here in NYC, which just makes any soup taste better; but a favored co-worker was caught between the blender and a hard place as well.

The Uptown/Downtown but always Eastside Lady C is a co-worker who's lately been so knocked about by Life that even the cynical hard edged heart of Big Mary has softened. In the past two weeks, our former party girl has had to quit smoking, undergo major dental surgery and consequently has been forced on the wagon and off solid foods for 3 weeks. Always a Sister of Charity under my apron, Big Mary has rushed in to fill the void by both making daily smooth soups and upping my alcohol consumption to keep the cosmos in balance.

Much as I "qvell" at the potential of making vast quantities of soup, my taste runs more to the chunky, chock full concept of soup kettle than the Parisian, restrained, elegant smooth puree. So I was giddy at the challenge thrown down by my dentally challenged compatriot. The week had many treasures, one of which I actually wrote down as I created. The others are included as cooking thoughts.

Puree of Cauliflower Soup
1 medium head of cauliflower (about 1 1/2 # after cleaning)
1 cup sliced leeks (pale green and white parts)
1 parsnip
Clean one medium sized cauliflower, break it down into small pieces and set aside. (Mine was about 1 1/2# after cleaning.) Slice pale green and white parts of leeks, wash very well and set aside. Peel 1 medium parsnip, cut out any woody core, rough chop and set aside. In a medium saucepan, warm some oil and a bit of butter. Add leeks and sauté gently until limp, avoiding any browning. When soft add a generous splash of white wine, 1 bay leaf, the cauliflower and parsnips. Next add enough well flavored chicken stock (homemade preferred, but in a pinch Swanson's Low Sodium isn't too bad) to just cover the vegetables. When the broth comes to a boil, add about a teaspoon of fresh chopped thyme and reduce heat to a slow simmer. A bit of salt and pepper should go in as well. Continue to cook the soup until the cauliflower and parsnip are soft. Cool slightly and strain, reserving liquid. Put vegetables into a blender with some of the liquid and puree until smooth. Add the rest of the liquid slowly until everything is smooth. When ready to serve, rewarm the soup and add half & half (about 1/2 cup) to taste. Add a fresh ground nutmeg to taste and adjust salt and pepper. Serve in warm bowls garnished with chives.

In addition, the Lady C (and the Handsome Venezuelan, by default and overflow) enjoyed the following:

Sweet Potato, Apple and Bacon Soup
Dice up peeled sweet potato, peeled Granny Smith apple, chopped fresh thyme leaves, sliced proscuitto and cooked bacon and simmer with chicken stock until soft. Next, puree until smooth. Personally I add a healthy spoonful of Garum Masala to this mix, while cooking. Serve in warmed soup bowls.

Lentil Soup
Sauté a sofrito of celery, onion, carrots, red pepper and garlic. When translucent add chicken or vegetable stock and simmer until soft. Feel free to add a generous handful of cooked bacon if desired. Add lentils (about 50% of the veg mix), chicken or vegetable stock, a generous spoon of tomato paste and simmer until soft. Puree thoroughly and add more stock to taste.

Roasted Tomato and Eggplant Soup
Drop two medium eggplants on a grill and char them over low heat. Transfer them to a baking sheet and continue to roast them until collapsing soft. Strain about 8 canned tomatoes, (or peeled Roma tomatoes in season) and roast in a 450* oven until charred. Combine roasted tomato flesh with eggplant flesh avoiding the seeds and skin of both. Sauté 1/2 cup leeks in olive oil and 1 small chopped fennel bulb (or half a large one) until softened, add 1 tablespoon minced garlic and sauté 1 minute more. Deglaze with about a cup of dry white vermouth. Add 1 cup tomato puree, 1 red pepper (roasted & peeled, seeds removed) and 1/4 teaspoon saffron. Cover with strong chicken stock and simmer for 10 minutes or so, until fennel is cooked soft. Puree in a blender and return to saucepan to rewarm. Right before serving, toss in a handful of fresh chopped basil. Serve in warm bowls with shredded Parmesan Reggiano as garnish.

Contented Eating,
Big Mary

Blame it on Swanson's

How could it have taken me so long to fall for the charms of Pot Pies? I can only figure it is the sour memory of those early Swanson pot pies from the early 1960's. Back in those days, my Dad did a fair share of traveling, so Mama Gladys saw this as a welcome break from cooking. I was an eager enthusiast of the TV Dinner, but balked at the less exotic Pot Pies that were another option Mama Gladys opened. The weirdly thick gravy, the ubiquitous peas and carrots, and most especially the tough and partially uncooked bottom dough.... I just never really found a connection.

Lately though, I've had a few moments of pot pie enlightenment. Maybe it's my personal attempt to seduce the winter to show up here in the Northeast. Enough of these 60 degree days, already! Mind you Diva Nature I'm not looking for eight foot drifts and electrical outages, but a little frost on the windowpane could be a prefect garnish for some soups and stews.

And that's really what's at the base of a good pot pie. Make any savory stew or chunky soup, thicken the broth with a little roux or cornstarch slurry (go easy on the thickening agent kids, better loose than gluey), turn it out into a gratin dish, pie plate or individual ovenproof casseroles, top it with some pastry and bake it off. Pour a glass of wine, if you haven't already, toss a salad and in about half an hour you get to serve a dinner that's at least an 8 on show appeal and a 4 on stress.

So, how to put it together? Fly loose and let your inspiration flow unchecked. This post is really about hints, suggestions and support, so no recipe my pretties; as if what I normally post could be confused as a recipe by anyone in the know. But let me throw some inspiration at you in any case....

Personally, I could eat some form of soup or stew at least 4 nights a week, so Big Mary has no lack of inspiration or motivation for what lies beneath the crust. If you are stew challenged, go to any cookbook, especially ethnic inspired ones and look for any braised meat or vegetable recipes. Keep in mind the scale of the food, all ingredients should be about 1/2" - 3/4" in size. Classic American flavors work great, but so do Mexican, Thai, French, Spanish, I could go on and on... For me, I get excited about the crust options; because I never thought about anything beyond the pie crust or puff pastry options. How little did I imagine.... I always suggest a crust on the top only. There's just no way of successfully enclosing the pot pie with a top and bottom crust. More importantly, there's no need.

I offer for your consideration ....

Beef Pot Pie with Carrots, Parsnips, Mushroom and Peas with Classic Pate Brise Pastry Crust (Pie crust for the french challenged)

Chicken Pot Pie with Shallots, Carrots, Wild Mushrooms, Fines Herbes and Vermouth with Puff Pastry Crust

Chicken Pie Gran Mere with Mushrooms, Leeks, Pancetta and Chestnuts with Tarragon Chive Drop Dumpling Crust

Turkey Pot Pie with Roasted Vegetables, Dried Cranberries, Sage and Bread Cube Stuffing Crust

Pork Pot Pie with Chilies, Posole and Poblano Peppers in Cornbread Cheddar Crust

Thai Green Chile and Coconut Chicken Pot Pie with Straw Mushrooms, Peppers, Thai Basil and Phyllo Crust

Greek Lamb Pot Pie with Swiss Chard, Tomato and Feta with Kataifi Crust (a shredded phyllo product available in Mid East Stores

Indian Vegetable Pot Pie with Cauliflower, Peas, Spinach and Mushrooms with Curried Potato Cashew Crust

Contented Eating My Pretties,

Big Mary

Happy New Year's ????

First let me pray that the Goddess might bless the brow of every single one of you who reads my humble blog, and provide more success, happiness and wealth than you can possibly deal with in 2007. My fervent wish is that each and every one of you might be able to someday say, "I was reading Big Mary when he was just a humble blog, before the radio show, before the Madonna connection, before the movie..."

But moving on ... let's vent a little steam. What's going on in the world of food writing? Here I was, hoping to position myself to morph from the heinous world of corporate catering to the sophisticated world of food writing; only to discover that my new fantasy career has been hijacked by the lightweight thinkers at the Food Network.

While I confess, I don't spend many hours watching cooking shows on any network, the few times I do find myself surfing by the Food Network I'm typically left with jaw dropped and ire rising over both the subtle and blatent misinformation that is sent over these airwaves. The more cooking professionals I speak to about this, the deeper the dilemma appeaars to be. In addition, I've learned the problem is a lot more widespread than I thought.

My best buddy, owner of DM Cuisine Catering in NYC, reports that one of his cater waiters (a breed of server reknowned for lack of knowledge about what they are serving), was recruited by the Food Network to develop a cooking show after her TV commercial for vegetable shortening was so well received by test audiences. When she freely admitted she new NOTHING about cooking, they replied "Not to worry, we can take care of that part."

Several prominent food writers I spoke to at the home of my Jersey food pro pals report the same realities. Unless you're a celebrity chef, or young and pretty enough to fill out jeans more attractively than Big Mary, or better yet a blend of both, there's little chance of your cookbook getting published these days.

Another dilemma facing the modern foodwriter is the Internet, and busybody bloggers like yours truly. As we all know, it is crazy easy to google any recipe you need at the click of a mouse. Unless there's a specific point of view or opinionated palate that you're after, why buy the book?

So, what's to be done? As in most frustrating situations, taking a deep breath is a good place to start. While the books getting the most attention seem to have more in common with People magazine than Escoffier, there still are more cookbooks being published in 2007 than 10 years ago, and 2006 gave us some damn fine ones. Currently I'm devouring "The Improvisational Cook", another excellent cookbook by Sally Schneider. She takes on the daunting challenge of convincing her readers to cook with their noses out of the cookbook. It's an interesting attempt to reawaken home cooks food instincts, and ironically lessen their dependence on cookbooks. Now that has to make you laugh in the context of this rant of mine!

But it also shines the light on where cookbooks need to look toward. I know part of my idea in "taking Big Mary public" was to encourage people to just cook; however simply or complicated their instincts inspire them. In my work kitchen, the cook that I connect to quickest is the cook who can taste food in his or her head. By this I mean someone who can taste something and tell me what are the main ingredients, can tell me what's missing (salt, sugar, acid, herb, fat, etc) and can imagine what it will taste like before adding the needing ingredient. In the most talented of chefs, I think it equates with "perfect pitch" in a musician.

What I find exciting is how random this talent is distributed. I've found it in an illegal Mexican dishwasher who became my sous chef, in a sandwich guy who is now able to handle any station in the kitchen, in a college chum who could practically talk to bread dough, and in the ultimate Goy Guy who can develop a recipe for chocolate mousse with 15 calories per serving.

So, moving forward into 2007, I'll probably continue to frustrate those readers looking for exact measurements and proceedures. But to those of you I say, relax, breath deep andjump. What's the worse than could happen? OK, now what's the best that could happen??? Yeah ......
Contented Eating
Big Mary

Chanukah Postponed

Mid December I broke my anti-socializing standard, and schlepped my holiday butt to suburban New Jersey for a supremely rewarding Latke Fest at the home of my inspired and hunky former sous chef and his bombshell brilliant food writer wife. What a good choice this was. In addition to being well fed and lubricated with fine food and well chosen wine, I was reminded of the brilliance of Jewish people around the world at choosing fried food as a focus of Chanukah celebrations. I'll give them a pass on the jelly donuts, also a Chanukah tradition, and move directly to potato latkes (Do not pass Go, do not collect $200).

There are few pleasures more simple, especially in urban American society, than fried foods. As a catering chef, I can swear to this. If you fry it they will come. Fritters, chicken chunks, beignets, crab cakes, tempura, it makes no matter, there's always room for one more.

As a chef, latkes are my high on my list of favorite fried foods. For the uninitiated to the latke experience, latkes are very simple potato pancakes, held together as lightly as possible with egg and flour (or matzoh meal). What I enjoy most about these simple pleasures is how easily they adapt to different situations and pantry possibilities.

In my kitchen, we serve three sizes. Mini's can be used as a vehicle for hors d'oeuvres. Either passed as they are with bowls of sour cream and apple chutney for guests to garnish to taste, or as a base served with smoked trout, smoked salmon, corned beef etc. We also prepare them a little larger, about 3 inch diameter. These are usually served specifically as "latkes" for Jewish holiday celebration. The third option are larger 8 inch or so, full skillet versions. These we make and then cut into wedges as a side dish on main plates.

Potato Latkes
Using a box grater or shredding attatchment of a food processor, coarse grate two pounds of Russet potatoes (or so). Place in a clean dish towel and squeeze dry, you are trying to get rid of the excess starch to make them extra crispy. Grate a small onion into the squeezed potato mixture. Season with salt and pepper. Add a few tablespoons of flour (or matzoh meal during Passover), one whisked egg and mix with your hands. You want the mixture just cohesive enough to hold together slightly before frying. When ready, drop teaspoons (or tablespoons or cups, etc) of the potato mixture into hot oil in a saute pan. Use enough oil please. You want them crispy. When brown on one side flip them to finish. Drain on paper towels and serve warm.
Note: These freeze perfectly!!!! When cool, freeze and pack in airtight container. Rewarm in a moderate oven.

No matter what size we make, the best part of latkes are their versatility. You can add in so many ingredients that create nuances of flavor which can fill the perfect niche of whatever you are pairing your latkes with. Some of my favorites follow.

Sweet Potato - substitute about 2/3 sweet potato and 1/3 Russet potato for potato in the main recipe.
Potato/Parsnip - substitute 1/3 fresh grated parsnip for 1/3 of the potato in the original recipe.
Potato/Celery Root- follow same procedure as parsnip
Potato/Shiitake - add 1 1/2 cups chopped fresh shiitake (or button) mushrooms to the potato mixture
Soba Noodle - substitute buckwheat soba noodles for all of the potato, substitute chopped scallion for the onion, season with soy sauce, add mushrooms and sesame seeds if desired.

These are simply some starting points my friends. I know once you get the idea, the options are unlimited, herbs, lo mein noodles, artichokes, olives, pine nuts...somebody stop me....

Happy New Year dear readers. I appreciate your time in checking out Big Mary's Kitchen more than you can know. Please tell your friends.
Until then,
Contented Eating,
Big Mary

I Am Missing Me Some Christmas Cookies

I can't hone in on why I'm so nostalgic for Christmas Cookies this year, but whoa sister, I am. Truth be told, I'm betting it has a lot to do with my Mom's passing this year.

I have to laugh at myself. There's been several times in this blog's short life that I represented dear Mama Gladys' kitchen skills as marginal. And I still wouldn't hedge my bet ... Except for desserts. Skillfully made pies and cookies were miles closer to godliness than the lack of dust bunnies for Gladys.

So it should come as no surprise that Christmas cookies are a cherished part of Big Mary's sugarplum dreams. There were two standards... the early years and the later years. The constant core were Mexican Wedding Cookies and Thumbprint Cookies with Red Currant Jelly. In addition, my early childhood savored Mincemeat Bars with Royal Icing Glaze and Date Bars. I still wince at the many years those incredibly delicious date bars went by underappreciated by this prematurely jaded, and then, less than Big... Mary. By the time I was 16, these last two had been supplanted by a significantly less inspired Chocolate Graham Cracker Toffee Bar.

On the plus side, the appearance of these Chocolate Graham Cracker Toffee Bars coincided with my appreciation of marijuana as a recreational drug. This was a divinely inspired syncronicratic moment. Gladys marveled at the way the graham crackers fit so perfectly in the cookie sheet. I marveled at how the intense sweetness of the brown sugar filling and the milk chocolate glaze could provide such pot fueled "munchy" comfort. Truly there was no place like home for the holidays.

Definitely "not" the Christmas spirit my Mom hoped to inspire, but the real charm of homemade cookie exchanges and pleasure in filling cookie tins for neighbors took root early on. Rarely were anyone else's Mom's cookies as good as Gladys'... but then there was neighbor Harry Steele's peanut butter fudge.

And so it was a smooth transition, once I was out of college, to carrying on the tradition of making and gifting Christmas cookies to my adopted family of loving souls. I'm really missing those years when I made the time to bake Christmas cookies for this inner circle. Hopefully it won't be too many more years before I can return to the spice warmed air of a home kitchen, covered in confectioners sugar, chocolate glaze and caramel.

Here's a great cookie dough for cutting into Christmas shapes and decorating. It's a little fussy and needs to be kept very cold, but worth the hassle

Walnut Spice Holiday Cookies
1/2 cup finely ground walnuts
1 1/4 cup AP flour
1 1/2 teaspoons baking powder
1/8 teaspoon salt
1/2 teaspoon ground nutmeg
1/2 teaspoon ground cinnamon
1/2 teaspoon ground ginger
1/2 teaspoon ground cloves
4 ounces unsalted butter, softened
1/2 cup granulated sugar
1/2 cup light brown sugar, packed
1 large egg

Combine ground walnuts, flour, baking powder, salt and spices in a bowl. Mix well and set aside.
In an electric mixer, beat butter until lightened, add sugars and continue beating until fluffy. Add egg. Reduce speed and gradually add in dry ingredients. Mix until just combined. Divide dough into four sections, wrap in plastic and chill well for several hours or overnight.
Preheat oven to 325*. Place parchment paper on baking sheets. On a well floured board, roll out dough to 1/8" thickness and cut into desired shapes. Place on prepared baking sheets and place in preheated oven for 7 minutes. Rotate pan and bake for 7 minutes more.
Cool slightly, remove form baking pan and decorate cookies as desired.

Apologies to any and all of my reader's for the lack of postings lately. Hopfully the Holiday demands will lessen, and I can get another posted soon.
Enjoy the Season and Contented Cookie Eating...
Big Mary

Cocina de las madres

The vast majority of the food that comforts us is homestyle cooking. I love how in Europe and South America these foods are often translated as "Grandmother's Kitchen" or "Mama's Cooking", because everyone's Mama or Grandma SHOULD be a wizard behind the stove. Back in the real world though, only a few of my friends have been so universally blessed.

The handsome Venezuelan husband seems to have enjoyed an exceptionally glorious and vibrant woman as his mother, though her glories are rumored to have stopped at the kitchen door. We laughed together over our Thanksgiving dinner at how both of our mothers had scammed us into believing that their opus magnus of the kitchen could only be conceivably prepared at it's designated once a year celebration.

As you may suspect, for me it was my Mama's stuffing. She had me convinced for all the years I enjoyed childhood, that stuffing was a labor of love only warranted on Thanksgiving. It was just too much to consider on any normal day of the year.

For the Venezuelan husband, hallacas were the labor of love limited to Christmas time. For those of you unhappily denied the pleasure of unwrapping and relishing an hallaca, let me describe the treasure.

Venezuelan Hallacas in the Style of Valencia

It's similar in style to a tamal. First you make a dough of pre-cooked cornmeal (traditionally Harina Pan), annato seasoning, stock and lard (or butter if real lard is as unavailable as it is for most of us). The dough is ready if you squeeze some in your hand and it doesn't crack. It's important to find the balance of moisture and fat.

Then you make a "guiso" or stew of chicken, pork tenderloin and beef (brisket or chuck)
with onions, sweet bell peppers, mild chilies, garlic and your own special seasonings. Maybe some tomato, maybe chickpeas, depends on regional and family traditions. The meats need to be shredded or chopped fine and then added back into the stew. Limit the broth in the final product. It should be a dry stew or "sopa seca" in the Spanish tradition.

Cut banana leaves (which can usually be found frozen in latin/carribean ethnic markets, into approximately 10 x 12 inch rectangles. Roast the banana leaves very briefly over an open flame.

Spread some of the dough onto the dull side of the leaf, forming a rectangle
and leaving a border of several inches all around the leaf. Drop a small amount of the stew on one side of the dough. Add two or three small green stuffed olives and a teaspoon or so of golden raisins. Fold the side of the leaf with the dough over the stew. Fold in the sides to completely enclose the package and tie the packet firmly with kitchen twine.

You can freeze these packets for months if well wrapped. When ready to serve, boil the hallcas in well seasoned stock for 20 minutes or so, more if cooking from frozen state. Cut stings and serve letting the guests unwrap and savor the hallaca.

Should this entice you to try out this delicious ethnic treat, Google a real recipe to guide you. It's time consuming, but not overly challenging.


Happily in Venezuela, Christmas lasts from December 24 through January 6. Three days emerge as mandatory for hallacas consuming, December 24, January 1st and 6th. Even more happily, there exists the tradition of sharing your hallacas with neighbors. So as Christmas approaches, your freezer will swell with the neighborhood's bounty. Each hallaca labeled with it's creator's signature. Maria's halacas, Lupe's hallacas, Anna Maria's hallacas, well you get the picture. Sort of a county fair's bounty of hallacas with a American Idol sensibility of judgment. There's some you covet, and some that end up thrown out in February.

Years ago, when he and I were just "enamorados", I threw a birthday party for the handsome Venezuelan. Knowing that hallacas were a special food tied directly to his heart, I announced I would make hallacas in April, a suspicious endeavor to any Venezuelan. As if to heighten his suspicions, I acknowledged that to make real hallacas was beyond the time allotted to create this soiree, so I was going to make "Hallacas en Cazuela", truncating the labor intensive wrapping of individual hallacas in favor of making several enormous hallacas in copper gratins. I lined the gratins with prepared banana leaves, laid in a layer of the corn "masa"/dough, generously ladled in the guiso, topped with more corn masa, and folded more banana leaves over the top. I then placed the cazuelas in the oven with a big pan of simmering stock on the floor of the oven.

When I announced "Dinner is ready!" I was succinctly quieted by the handsome Venezuelan, who politically suggested he should try the "experiment" to assure quality. I smiled and handed him his fork. When he sampled my wares and quickly took another taste before announcing "Dinner, (indeed) was served", I knew I had scored an enormous coup.

And so friends, I encourage you to embrace tradition with the equal fervor that you challenge and experiment with it. Today's inspiration may become your next tradition, however you define family.

Until the next time, which I really hope will be sooner than the past few posts...
Contented Eating,

Big Mary

Does this feel comfortable to you?

Comfort Food. It used to be such a ... "comforting" term. Then came 9/11 and suddenly it was an emotional and politically charged menu listing, which at it's most heinous level led off with "Freedom Fries" garnished with the obvious and bizarrely deserving "American Cheese Sauce". It's just so frightening when satire becomes a nation's leitmotif.

A few years ago I surveyed friends and family as to what was comfort food to them. There were a few common threads. Temperature had a lot to do with it. Not chocolate chip cookies .... WARM chocolate chip cookies. Indeed, outside of ice cream, almost all comfort foods claimed were warm. Familial provenance was also a consistent identifier. My Mom's meatloaf, her macaroni and cheese, my Dad's burgers in the summer. And of course, emotional connection. There are more than few out there who swore they'd never eat another ramen package after college, or who would starve before swallowing another bite of 5 for a dollar store brand mac & cheese. Yet, this same purist might just sneak a bite of either from their own children's plate. Those precious towheads starting off on establishing their own food memories...

Probably no emotional food connection rings louder than what connects around holidays. There's my Italian friends with the Christmas Eve Feast of 7 Fishes, the Greek's Easter Lamb, my Venezuelan husband's Christmas Hallaca, or the Ohio sister's Cryovac Roasted Easter Hams (Yes, she roasted the Easter ham in the grocery store's plastic wrapping.... in 1978 AND in 1996!)

All of which leads us logically to the Thanksgiving at our doorstep this week. My personal all time comfort food is stuffing. Mama Gladys didn't have a large repertoire, but what she did well, could slap you hard and make you go sit in a corner. Her stuffing was one of these in my memory. I'll never forget a few details.

First you have to understand my Mama cooked strictly from recipes, not instinct. If her stuffing recipe said you needed "one packet of vegetable seasoning from a package of Mrs. Grass's dehydrated vegetable soup", you could be damned sure we'd be driving that Chevy from one end of Springfield to the other, starting somewhere in the middle of September, in search of the elusive Mrs. Grass. And as time marched on, Mrs. Grass seemed to me overtaken by Knorrs and Liptons. Mama Gladys would truck no substitution. I remember one July afternoon, while on vacation, when she stormed into the cabin, proudly bandishing a few years worth of Mrs's Grass’s packets she'd stumbled upon in a grocery store in Gaylord, Michegan.

The next unimpeachable ingredient was sausage. Not spicy, not overly sagey. Clean, bulk, pork sausage. Here, I have to hang tight with the lady. That porkiness is just what that grand bird deserves. Her final commandment ... stale bread cubes, good stuff (which in those days meant Pepperridge Farm), cut by hand at least four days ahead, and laid out to dry. Never over toast. Again, she was right on. There's a chewiness you achieve from stale bread that toasted bread never gives you.

My Mama's Sausage Stuffing
Now I tell you flat out, this is my version of the grand lady's dish. First off, I don't hold any commerce with Mrs. Grass, may she rest in peace. Second, it's just stuffing dammit. Use this as jumping off point.
Cut up your bread into 1/2 inch cubes several days in advance. Lay the bread cubes out on sheet pans or place in large bowls, but be sure to toss frequently to achieve even dryness and no mold (especially if using natural breads). Gladys always used white bread, occasionally a bit of whole wheat if I could persuade her to be rambunctious. My personal choice is a mix of a 7 grain and Sourdough. The nuttiness of the grains and the chewiness of the sourdough provide a toothsome integrity that gets me exactly where I want my stuffing to go.
When you're ready to make stuffing, chop up bunches of celery, onion, carrots and garlic. Set aside. (Now understand I'm a bit of a purist. I'll discuss options at the end.) Chop up a little bacon and start to brown it in a large skillet. When the fat begins to render, add a generous amount of bulk pork sausage. Stir it around and begin to brown the sausage. Add the vegetables and continue to cook the sausage and vegetables until the pork looses its pinkness. I'll burn in the seventh ring of dietician's hell for this, but sometimes I add a big knob of butter here. Toss in some fresh chopped herbs - marjoram, rosemary, parsley (sage if you like, I don't), and set aside to cool. Remember that the star ingredient of stuffing is the bread. You want to be generous with the meats and vegetables, but don't overwhelm the leading lady.
Now, combine your stale bread cubes and the sausage vegetable mixture thoroughly. Slowly ladle a rich turkey or chicken stock into the mix as you stir. Keep tossing and adding stock until the whole conglomeration is evenly damp. Walk away for 10 minutes.
Come back and give the mix a squeeze. It should not form a doughy ball in your hand, but it should attempt to hold it's shape. Odd's are you'll need to add a bit more stock. When you think you are there.... either stuff the bird loosely, leaving room for expansion, or gently load the stuffing into a well buttered casserole or two. As for Big Mary, I don't like stuffing that's been stuffed, but that's just me. Drop the stuffing in loosely so it will roast toasty and crunchy and moist. In casserole, cook at 375* until well browned. If it looks like it's drying out excessively, ladel a bit more stock over it midway. If roasting in the bird, follow your normal holiday traditions or consult a good cook book.

Now, as I said, there are loads of possibilities outside my box. Chestnuts, mushrooms (wild, exotic or domestic), dried fruit, fresh apples, pears, wild rice, cornbread, chilies (poblano, jalapeno, ancho), sunflower seeds, pumpkin seeds, almonds, pecans, walnuts, sun dried tomatoes, fennel, grilled corn, well .... you get the picture. It's all about maintaining a textural balance and not obscuring your star, the stale bread.

Next time we'll talk more comfort food, especially Venezuellan Hallacas. Some good stories there, just you wait.

I apologize for the long absence. Blame it on this nasty flu/virus/cold/vague feeling of unease that has visited my work kitchen the last few weeks. But I'm on the mend, and never once forgot about you. No really, I mean it. Not that any of you made me a cup of tea, or brought me Kleenex, or some soup, a diet Coke ...

Now get out of here and give some thanks for your blessings. Friends, health, wealth, a dry bed, a dry hump, heat, hot water, family, a job, a job you like, a working car, public transportation, dreams, faith, love, a turkey and hopefully some stuffing. I wish you a minimum of three.

Contented Eating and Happy Thanksgiving
Big Mary

It was bright green, and orange and bumpy?

Hard winter squash can be another sweet surprise beneath a monstrous exterior. Piled high in the market, attractive and colorful squash sing out a siren's song of soups, roasts and gratins; but those mysterious turban squashes still put my knife to rest. However, I have had my way with the likes of kabocha, delicata, sweet dumpling, hubbard and buttercup, and keep coming back for more.

Take advantage of the gorgeous selections available now. Even though these vegetables as a group are known as winter squash, the supply of many of the more interesting varieties dries up by Christmas time. Butternut and acorn are pretty much available anytime but you'll see a big drop in taste and texture outside of the September - January window.

As with apples, the more common varieties, acorn, butternut, calabaza, tend to be the least rewarding. Look for delicata and sweet dumpling in early fall. When their stripes are still green you don't even need to peel them if roasting. The edges crisp slightly and add great texture to the smooth flesh. As the squash mature in holding, the stripes become more yellow ochre and peeling is required.

I would most enthusiastically encourage you to explore kabocha squash. The name's a bit confusing as it applies to several varieties of Japanese developed squash. The two most common being the drum shaped green skinned Hokkaido, and the rounder orange Hokkaido. Its meaty flesh is beautifully balanced by its deep sweetness. Really a great squash.

Next I need to introduce (or reacquaint) you to a spice mixture called Garam Masala. It is a spice blend, similar in style to curry powders which typically includes cinnamon, black pepper, clove, cumin, coriander. etc. To my palate it has an incredible affinity for squash and sweet potatoes. I worship the blend available at www.kalustyans.com. More on this phenomenal store later.

OK, moving on ...

Roast Winter Squash, Yams and Green Apples with Maple and Eastern Spices
Preheat oven to 425* Prepare, peel and seed squash (you choose, though early delicata is a personal fave). Cut into 1 1/2 inch cubes or wedges. Toss with mild oil, pure maple syrup, salt and ground garam masala. Set aside.
Peel and cut yams into 1- 1 1/2 inch shapes. Toss with mild oil, pure maple syrup, salt and ground garam masala. Set aside.
Quarter and core Granny Smith apples (or another hard, tart apple that stands up to cooking). Cut into large chunks. Toss with mild oil, pure ma... OK you get the idea.
Please note that you don't want to over do the maple syrup. Think of it as a perfume, not a glaze.
Roast the squash, the yams and the apples on separate baking sheets. The squash and the yams should time out pretty similar. The apples will only take a deep warming before they break down. When finished, toss together and serve. It's so tasty too!

Here's one more, bound to piss off the vegetarians...

Butternut Squash, Apple, Pancetta and Port Wine Bisque with Apple Herb Salad

I know there are those who will choose to make this without the pancetta (Michael of cookingformargy.blogspot.com NOT among them) Too bad for you.

Make the soup a day or two ahead. Peel, seed and cut up your squash. Feel free to substitute others for the butternut. I do. Set the squash aside. Clean and rough chop onions and a few cloves of garlic. Set aside. Peel, core and chunk a few great apples. Keep a tart, sweet mix. Set aside. Chop pancetta finely. You don't need too much to add the rich porkiness to the soup. Put the pancetta in a soup pot over medium heat and cook it slowly to medium crispness. Add some oil and butter as needed, and then add the onions and garlic. Saute to a limp translucence. Add some chopped fresh thyme with a generous dusting of ground garam masala and saute 2 minutes. Dump in the reserved squash and apples. Add a very healthy pour of Port Wine and chicken stock to cover. Season with a bit of salt and pepper, and simmer until the squash is tender.
Drain the solids and reserve the liquids. Using a food processor, puree the solids with a bit of the liquid to make a smooth puree. Continue to stir in the liquid until the soup is at your desired consistency. You'll probably use all the liquid.
Either chill the soup down now or proceed to serve. When ready to serve, add a touch of heavy cream to the soup while warming. It doesn't need any , but go ahead and gild that lily.
Reduce port wine until it has a syrup consistency. Set aside. (Can be done days ahead)
On a mandolin slicer, julienne an assortment of apples, toss with a touch of herb vinegar, chopped parsley, tarragon and chives. Set aside.
To serve, ladle the soup into warmed soup bowls. Dribble reduced port wine here and there in the soup. Garnish with the apple herb salad in the center of the bowl.
Eat THAT!

Very well my pretties. Looking back (always a dangerous move...), I see I might have subtitled this entry an ode to garam masala. Well, don't say I never take you new places. And if you are currently smirking, saying "I've known about Garam Masala for years...." Check out that Kalustyan's Website. They have some things you've never imagined.
Contented Eating,
Big Mary

Tres bizarre to downright ugly ...

Have you ever seen brussels sprouts growing in a garden? Very "Little Shop of Horrors" ... Three to four feet tall, a center stalk covered with little knobs of green (the sprouts) and a top knot of big green leaves like a tropical crown. It’s easy to imagine a brontosaurus nibbling on it as some Neolithic Crudités.

I was helping with end of summer harvest at the Ohio sister's patch of garden. M'shell, domestic diva and caterer to small town Ohio's elite, had asked my sister to plant some brussels sprouts. Shell's son Thom and I were armed with a saw to take down the monster stalks. Thom, being highly suspicious about any vegetable that required a saw to bring it down, took some serious convincing that there was anything worth consuming on this gnarled oversize trunk. Had we cut the stalk a few weeks earlier, I suspect the process would have been a little less intimidating for Thom. Not to mention less of a challenge for Shell's formidable skills in the kitchen.

Purchasing fresh, small brussels sprouts is a key to avoiding all the bad reputation that this vegetable suffers from. That, and avoiding both under and over cooking the little critters. Currently I have two favorite ways of approaching brussels sprouts.

Roasted Brussels Sprouts
This is as easy as falling off a bar stool. Oops, did I actually write that?
First make sure the brussels sprouts are pretty much the same size. Unless they are baby sized; split or quarter them. Next you need to make a judgment call. If you enjoy that burnt edged flavor of roasted veggies, just toss them with some oil, salt and pepper. Throw them into a hot (450*) oven and pull them out when roasted and tender. At this point, season them further with herbs, lemon or reduced orange juice, roasted garlic or any other inspirations that come over you.
If you like a milder effect, drop the prepped brussels sprouts into salted boiling water for 30 seconds, blanch 'em and shock 'em in ice water. Then roast 'em as described above.

Sauteed Brussels Sprout Leaves
OK, this is my current fave. Not really a recipe, more a jumping off point.
First, clean and core the brussels sprouts and break them up into leaves. Imagine they are tiny heads of iceberg lettuce. By the way, this is a great use of the larger, more mature brussels sprouts. Alternately, shred them thinly on a mandoline or V-Slicer. In either case you should end up with a great product for a stir fry. Combine them with leeks and chestnuts. Or try snow peas, ginger and shredded carrots. It's just an unexpected treatment of an old friend.

In this twisted market of year round asparagus in which we shop, it's so very easy to get lazy and ignore the root vegetables and hard squash that's brimming over on the green grocer's shelves as the days get shorter. Parsnips, Beets, Turnips, Celeriac (Celery Root) and Parsley Root are sure to surprise most American palates with their subtlety and/or depth depending on how they are used.
I tend to mix these vegetables with each other, or with the more everyday potatoes and carrots. Roasting, as with all vegetables, tends to deepen and sweeten the flavors. Pureeing them seems to shift the focus onto aroma and texture.
Gurfren Sue reminds me that the greens of the beets and turnips you buy are a great bonus and should always be saved. I love balsamic beet greens with roasted beets or sautéed turnip greens in root vegetable purees.

Roasted Carrots and Parsnips with Lemon and Marjoram
Set a baking sheet on the middle rack of the oven and preheat it to 450*. Choose slim carrots and parsnips if possible. Peel them, split lengthwise and quarter if necessary. I find most parsnips need their center woody core cut out, but if they are small and tender enough, you might get by leaving the center in. Toss the prepped vegetables lightly with oil, salt, pepper and chopped marjoram. Remove the hot baking sheet from the oven and pour parsnips and carrots onto the hot sheet. Distribute them evenly over the pan, do not crowd the pan. Return to the oven and roast until they are tender. Sprinkle the vegetables with a squeeze of fresh lemon juice and serve warm.

Fettuccini with Roasted Beets, Pancetta and Cream
Inspired by an over order of beets when I was a chef at Rosemarie's in Tribeca, NYC
Preheat oven to 350*. Clean beets well and wrap them individually in foil and bake until a skewer passes easily through the beet. This will take anywhere from 45 minutes to 2 hours, depending on size and freshness of your beets. When done, remove them from the oven and let them cool in their aluminum foil party dresses.
When cool, cut away the tops and bottoms and remove the peel. Cut into small 1/4 inch dice. Set aside. This can easily be done a day ahead.
Thinly slice small onions and dice pancetta, about equal portions. In a warm skillet begin to brown the pancetta. (Big Mary says you may substitute bacon, but she'll think less of you) Meanwhile begin to bring a large pot of salted water to a boil. When the pancetta has begun to release its fat, add the onions and sauté them with the pancetta. Keep the heat moderate. When the onions are caramelizing slightly and the pancetta has crisp edges, increase the heat, splash some white wine into the pan, deglaze and add some beet cubes. When the wine has reduced, add a generous pour of heavy cream. (Do not attempt this dish while attempting to get back into that swimming suit for the holidays in La Isla Mujeres.) Raise the heat to a simmer and gently stir. The beets should shed a glorious magenta color to the cream as it bubbles and gently thickens. When it has, give it a few grinds of fresh black pepper and lower the heat.
Drop the fettucine (and you know it should be fresh, not dried...) in the boiling water, stir well, and pour yourself a glass of that white wine. You see now, why we never cook with the bad stuff. It should only take a few minutes for the pasta to float to the top, which means it's done. Drain it, toss it with that mind blowing sauce, generously sprinkle it with freshly grated Parmesan Reggiano and garnish with fresh chopped parsley.

I'm starting to see another trend in these recipes. They are Damn Fattening! Even though I've never been known to break into a cold sweat at the thought of cheese with butter and a touch of cream, I know there is a huge sea of my fans that are a little more cautious about throwing their waistlines to the wind. So, moderation my pretties. But, I have to admit I love how it all plays into a natural cycle of harvest, eating and the seasons. I really don't believe its all coincidence that these harvest vegetables pair so soothingly with the aforementioned trinity of butter, cream and cheese. Our great grandpappies and mommies were getting ready to settle in for a long winter's struggle with the elements. At least my Germanic and Anglo relatives were. Those extra pounds in November would be sweet memories come March and April. So, in honor of those tired, poor, huddled masses... yearning to eat cream...
I offer these last ideas.

Yukon Gold and Celeriac Gratin
Follow any proud, indulgent French recipe for potato gratin. Substitute thinly sliced peeled celeriac for 1/3 of the potato. If you feel indulgent, throw some truffle butter or oil, or even truffle shavings into the mix. (If you use all three, invite Big Mary for dinner) You'll love this, and amazingly it even lightens the dish.

Autumn Root Vegetable Puree
This is just an encouragement to lighten your mashed potatoes by including some other vegetables into the mix. Parsnips, Turnips, Parsley Root, Celeriac and Carrot are all great candidates for a mix in. Just remember to cook them separately and then mash together. You'll also find the lightened starch content a help with the aforementioned caloric issues. Think about using buttermilk instead of whole milk to add a refreshing tang to these purees. Then there's roasted garlic, horseradish, herbs, mustards, you get the idea. And remember, no food processors here. You'll end up with wallpaper paste.

OK my pretties, once again I've gone on too long. Next time I'm seeing visions of Brussels Sprouts done right and hard squash that’s NOT Acorn!
As always,
Contented Eating,
Big Mary