Tag Archives: recipes

Lamb Ragout, or Ragu

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Both are pronounced the same. One uses chunks of meat, the other has ground meat. I had ground lamb, and did not want to make lamburgers or meatballs. So I started looking for ideas. I found several possibilities, some of which required ingredients not currently available (fresh basil), or ended up swamping the lamb in other flavors. Lamb should taste like lamb.

As usual, the final result was partly recipe, partly “swap this for that, add a bit of this” based on what was in my pantry. The original recipes called for tomato paste, but I used sun-dried tomatoes instead. The result wasn’t as pretty and smoothly saucy as the photos from the food sites, but tasted great.

One pound ground lamb

olive oil for sauteeing

one large rib of celery, one carrot, one medium onion, all chopped fine (almost minced)

1/4-1/3 cup red wine or enough to deglaze pan

One can diced or chunk tomatoes (15 oz) or roasted tomatoes

six sun-dried tomatoes (packed in oil was used)

three cloves of garlic (or a little more)

spices (rosemary, a shake of basil)

Heat oil in a large skillet. Add the veggies and garlic, and sautee until soft. Add the lamb and brown. Add red wine, sufficient to deglaze pan and loosen the brown bits. Add canned tomatoes, then sliced sun-dried. Follow with garlic and spices. Reduce heat and simmer until the flavors blend. You should still be able to taste the lamb. Serve with pasta (I served it over cauliflower).

This got rave reviews at RedQuarters. The lamb flavor went well with the mellow veggies and tomatoes, aided by the red wine*. I’d like to scale it up, to get more meals out of it, but the lamb only came in single pound packs, and I was lucky to find those.

*All the alcohol cooked off, so it wasn’t a problem for me.

OK, So Not Italian Wedding Soup

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That’s sort of where I started, but without making the meatballs, and without adding the leafy greens or orzo pasta. Inspired by the basic idea of Italian Wedding Soup is probably the better way to describe it.

I scored a pound of ground lamb (lamburger) on clearance.

2 C chicken broth, plus water

1 c chopped onion

2 T chopped garlic (I like garlic)

Sauté the meat in oil, then add the onion and garlic and cook until the onion is translucent. Add the broth, and water to cover, plus a little more. For spices I used basil, a commercial five-pepper blend (bell, cayenne, and some others), a few bits of rosemary, and a shake of smoked paprika. I let it simmer for half an hour, then turned off the fire.

The next day I chopped three carrots into thin slices, and did the same for four stalks of celery. Those went into the pot with a bit more water, since I wanted soup. I brought it to a vigorous boil, then let it simmer for an hour or so. The flavor was very good, “bright” with a bit of warmth but not overwhelming. Lamb has a distinct flavor, and I wanted to play that up.

The original recipe is for ground Italian sausage, or a 50/50 blend of ground pork and ground beef, made into small meatballs. After you do the same things with the garlic and onion that I did, you add carrots, celery, leafy greens, and orzo. I may toss rice in next time, just a quarter cup or so, to thicken it. Letting it sit overnight helped the flavors mellow.

Salad Nicoise – Of a Sort

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Mom wanted Salad Nicoise, a tuna, green-bean, boiled egg, olives, small boiled potatoes, and light dressing. It originated in Nice, France. This was … not really feasible. However, when leftover salad, and tiny potatoes, appeared in the fridge, and two tins of tuna showed up on the counter, I got the HINT.

Salad 1.0 was a Caesar salad from a kit, with cherry tomatoes, and half a green bell pepper and half a cucumber added. It wasn’t bad, and as much dressing as came with the lettuce, I was glad I’d tossed in the other stuff.

Salad 2.0 used the remains of the Caesar salad, plus 1 hard boiled egg, two small cans of water-packed tuna (well drained), a few more tomatoes, the rest of the cucumber and bell pepper, about a third of a cup of walnuts (broken into pieces by hand), two boiled “new potatoes,”* and Parmesan cheese grated over the top. The potatoes, cut into chunks, worked well to get the last of the dressing out of the storage container holding the remaining green salad. I blended everything, did not worry about adding more dressing or croutons, and served with bread on the side.

It was pronounced a success, even if it wasn’t really Salad Nicoise. Traditional dressings are more oil-based rather than cream-based, which fits the place of origin and how salads were typically made in that part of the world.

*They are small (usually), round red potatoes with a thin skin. In my family they usually get served boiled, with green beans. I’ve seen them sold as “spring potatoes.” What you want are small, thin-skinned, and not too floury potatoes of some kind.

Slow-simmered Pork Shoulder Roast

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“But it was a roast! Why did you boil it to death?”

Ahem. That question was not asked, because we were too busy devouring wonderful, tender, well flavored pork, small potatoes, celery, carrots, and onion. The short answer is that the roast was too big for the roaster, and not very fatty. That suggested a variation on braising, which in turn was a version of a Roman recipe for pork and celery. I started the day before, since it was a large shoulder roast, and would benefit from long, slow simmering.

1 pork shoulder roast, probably about 5 pounds or so. (It was hefty, and $3.00/pound bought from the family that raised the pig).

half a package of celery, cut into 1″ chunks [I’ll do more next time]

1 and a half onions, one red [needed to use up] 1.2 medium white.

a pound of small (red) potatoes cut into chunks

four large carrots, peeled and cut into pieces

1/2 cup white wine

2 C chicken broth (left overs that needed to be used)

garlic (three large cloves, I’d use more personally)

I browned the roast quickly in olive oil, then added the broth and wine. Once it reached a boil, I tossed in the garlic, onion, celery and carrots. When that boiled, I turned the heat down and ignored it. After simmering for two hours, I carefully flipped the meat over, added some water to bring the liquid up to just over the mid-point of the meat, and ignored it for another hour. Then I turned off the heat and let it sit over night.

The next afternoon I brought it back to a boil and added the potatoes. It simmered for two hours or so, when the meat fell off the bone. I also added a bit (two shakes) of cilantro, because I wanted to*.

Serve with a good bread. I added some large pearl couscous the next day, to reduce the liquid and sop up more flavor. This was voted a huge success.

*The original recipe calls for a cut of pork, celery with leaves [now almost impossible to find], fresh cilentro, the wine and broth, and garlic.

Freezer-Burn Soup

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The time had come to make supper ahead, for cool, blustery days. And to get rid of somethings that should have been used a while ago. Into the depths of the freezer I plunged, and found … a chub of green-chili sausage, half of a fancy baked potato with freezer burn, and a few other veggies that were past their prime.

Ideally, you will have/find: a flavorful protein source, something starchy, various vegetables, all of which will work together. You need to add: liquid, perhaps spices and herbs depending on the other things.

Into the Big Pot went 2 cups of chicken broth, 2 cups of water (to start with), a small handful of dried mushrooms, and the chub of sausage. After it reached a boil and I broke up the sausage and mushrooms, I slid in the potato. Once that had fully thawed and softened, I broke it into chunks as well, and let everything simmer, then turned it off to mellow, sealed, overnight.

The next day I added onion from the freezer, chopped two handfuls of baby carrots that were a little mature (not fuzzy, just not at their peak), and one green onion. I let everything simmer for an hour. I tasted it, corrected the spices to taste (bit of powdered garlic), and added a half cup of pearl couscous, plus two more cups of water. The broth had gotten very thick, and the couscous absorbed one cup of liquid. You could also use canned chick peas, left-over plain rice, or other things for body or as a thickener. The concoction simmered for fifteen minutes or so, until it was time to eat.

It was filling, with a rich flavor and slow green-chili burn, but not wildly hot. I had not skimmed off the fat, but there wasn’t very much anyway.

Delicata Squash – Yes, You Can Eat All Of It

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No, not the seeds, unless you really want to. I cleaned it the same way I clean out every other squash.

They look like this, or are white with the green. Source: https://www.loveandlemons.com/roasted-delicata-squash/

I had never seen them before, and they were on the “eating squash” end of the table, so I asked. The seller said they were “delicata” squash, and you cooked them like spaghetti squash, or so he’d been told. They were small, and looked workable, so I got two and toted them home with my other farmers’ market produce to experiment with.

Instructions for cooking vary as to time, temperature, and method. I settled on a basic approach.

  1. preheat oven to 350 F
  2. Trim off ends of squash, then cut in half lengthwise. Scoop out seeds and stringy bits (I used a grapefruit spoon).
  3. Rub squash with olive oil, plain or flavored (garlic and mushroom in this case)
  4. Place face down on baking tray/cookie sheet.
  5. Bake for 25 minutes or until sharp point enters easily and comes out clean. Your time may vary based on size of squash and elevation.
  6. Serve while warm, 1 or 1/2 squash per person depending on protein and sides.

The flavor is between spaghetti and acorn squash, a touch blander than acorn but very nice. Many recipes suggest using parmasan cheese or another grated hard cheese on top. The rind is edible if you want to eat it, a bit thicker than potato skin. I’ll get more delicata squash when they become available. The grower hadn’t raised any before, but will bring more next year, since people like them.

Not-Persian Rice

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I found a sack of dried fruit, more dried fruit in the fridge, and some other things that need to have been eaten a while ago. Since making fruitcake is NOT in my plans, I got to thinking about fancy rice-n-dried-fruit dishes, which are relatively common festival fare in Southwest and South Asia. There are many recipes online, some of which are fancier than I cared to tangle with. This was an experiment to use up odds and ends, not a festival dish like the Persian/South Asian original.

1C rice (called for basmati, I used plain white)

3T butter (could use a little less)

1/2 Cup onion, minced

spices (I used 1 heaping teaspoon sweet curry powder plus a little ginger. Go higher if you want more flavor)

1 T minced garlic (I’m generous)

2 1/4 cup water

1/3 cup dried fruit (I used dates, cherries, and apricots, chopped very fine. Whatever is on hand works)

1/4 c slivered and toasted almonds*

  1. melt the butter in a heavy pot over medium-high heat. Toss in the onions and garlic and sauté until onions are translucent.
  2. Add rice and stir for several minutes. Add spices and stir for additional minute.
  3. Add water and dried fruit. When the water boils, reduce heat to a simmer, cover.
  4. Stir occasionally until rice is done. If you have not yet toasted the almonds, now’s the time.
  5. Add almonds, mix thoroughly, serve.

The next time, I will up the spices, use less butter (maybe), and more fruit and nuts. I served it with a tangy salad, to balance warm and rich with cool and tart.

*Heat a saucepan over medium high until warm. Add almonds, and spread out. Stir frequently until the almonds are golden brown. Remove from heat. Can be done in advance.

Book Review: As American as Shoofly Pie

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Weaver, William Woys. As American as Shoofly Pie: The Foodlore and Fakelore of Pennsylvania Dutch Cuisine. (University of Pennsylvania Press, 2013) Kindle edition.

Short version: An entertaining and thought-provoking book that’s part cookbook, part history and social analysis.

Long version: Quick, describe the Pennsylvania Dutch. What probably popped to mind, if you recognize the term, is someone who is conservative Mennonite or Old-order Amish. That’s because of writers and regional publicity people who used the term for the people living around Lancaster specifically, and who were harmless and pacifist (think WWII). Oh, and picturesque. There were actually several distinct groups of people who were originally called “Pennsylvania German” and who spoke a dialect of German – Swiss German (Moravians), Palatine, Swabian, or Low German, or other sorts. Subdivide that into “Hassenfeffer” or town Dutch, the people who had a fair amount of money and were the wealthy farmers or businessmen, and “Buckwheat Dutch,” the dirt farmers who ate fresh meat very rarely unless they hunted it, or had just butchered a pig. The range of foodways and recipes led to a lot more regional variety than modern visitors might suspect.

Each chapter in the book considers kinds of food and the people who ate it. The recipes are all at the end of the book, arranged in English-translation alphabetical order (hotlinked in the e-book). It helps to have a map of Pennsylvania on hand, so you can see who was where if you are not familiar with the area. We tend to think in lumps, so German-Americans (if not Amish/Mennonite) eat lots of sausage and sauerkraut, wear lederhosen and dirndls, and have Oktoberfests with beer, beer, and beer and pretzels. None of which describes the people in the book, aside from sausages and sauerkrauts. Oktoberfest is Bavarian, the opposite side of the German lands from where the Pennsylvania folks came from. This book dispels the image, inclining toward the pipe-smoking, barrel-chested gent in long pants standing in front of a solid stone barn and wood and stone house, possibly with a deer hanging from the porch eves ready to be processed.

Weaver considers how history is remembered and stories told as well as what is told. Over time, as regional history and food lore started to become drawing cards for tourism (and separating one’s self from European Germans became important), certain recipes and traditions faded. Also, new cooking technology meant that old dishes got modified or dropped entirely. This is where a bit of explanation would be good, because a “ten plate stove” is not at all what I was thinking. It was a stove made of ten plates of metal fastened together, as compared to a six-plate stoves, or cooking on the floor of an open hearth. Weaver doesn’t explain, so I had to go to the ‘net and dig a little to find examples.

The book goes through foods and who ate them, how people described themselves and what they ate, and outside influences on local foods and eating habits. It is sort of a micro-regional history of the kind I enjoy, but might be too detailed for some readers. It includes the Kutztown festival, and modern food tourism in the region. Along the way I learned a lot about what Pennsylvania German food isn’t, and why buckwheat is called that. (It comes from Buchsweeze, or “beech-tree wheat” because the grain looks like beech nuts.)

The recipes are clear and well done, although some of the ingredients might be hard to find outside the region.

I’d recommend the book for people interested in how regional foods and culture change, about detailed studies in regional culture, and as a general introduction to Pennsylvania German foods. Yes, Shoofly Pie is included.

Burgundy Beef – Boykin Variations

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For Easter supper I made burgundy beef, a riff on Boef Burgoinion. The original is rather complicated, or can seem so. I took an internet recipe that a coworker had printed off, then modified it to suit what was available (or presented to me). I’ll put the original in {} and my comments in [ ]. My version serves … six, easily, without adding any sides other than rice or noodles.

stewing beef – two pounds [used three]

two cups red wine – Burgundy is traditional

two onions chopped fine

two Tablespoons minced garlic [used two large, heaping soup spoons]

two carrots chopped

two cups sliced mushrooms [two packages pre-sliced Baby Bella TM because that’s what was presented to me]

2 Tablespoons tomato paste [I used heaping]

2 bay leaves [they were small so I went for 3]

3 cups beef broth

oil to sauté

Day before: pour wine over meat and refrigerate to allow flavors to soak into the meat. [I also chopped the onion, since the weather allowed me to open up the house and run fans to get the onion fumes out]

Day of serving: Heat the oil in a Dutch Oven or other heavy pot.

[Reserve part of marinade]

{saute three pieces of bacon to crisp, remove from pot and reserve.} Remove beef from wine and brown beef in oil. {Remove meat from pot and cook onions, garlic, carrot} Add onions, garlic, and carrot, sauté until onions are translucent. Add mushrooms {and bacon}. Add broth, bay leaves, and tomato paste. Bring to a boil, then reduce heat. [I added about a cup of the marinade.]

Simmer for two or three hours until the meat is tender, stirring occasionally. Bring to a boil again and cook the sauce down to thicken it. Serve with noodles or rice. Feeds a small crowd (6-8) if you have a salad or other side dish.

Lentil and Sausage Stew II

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I wanted something that would be a make-and-forget, with hearty flavors. So I grabbed smoked Polish sausage, a pound of lentils, an onion, garlic, and went from there. This is relatively fast, easy, and serves … a lot. You base the flavors around the sausage. Since the Polish sausage has a rich, heavy flavor, I went with spices that would augment that, such as basil and marjoram, and garlic. I added a few dashes of hot paprika toward the end, since it needed a little deep “oompf.”

Oil for cooking the onion and garlic (I used garlic-infused olive oil)

1 minced white onion (it was large, and stout)

at least 1 Tablespoon garlic

1 lb or so good meaty sausage of any kind. You could also use smoked turkey. Cut into small pieces so the flavor spreads through the dish.

1 lb lentils, rinsed and sorted

herbs to taste

Heat the oil, then add in onion and garlic. Cook until translucent. Add the sliced sausage, stir to blend. Add in the lentils and water to cover (at least 6 cups of warm or hot water). Bring to a boil, reduce heat to simmer, and add herbs to taste. Stir occasionally and add water if it starts to look dry. After one half hour, check flavor and adjust if needed (I added the paprika). Let simmer a little longer, then serve.

The way I made it, it was enough for six people easily, more if you have bread or a salad. It keeps well overnight, but you might want to adjust the flavors the second day. It got “heavier” as the lentil flavor came through, so I added more paprika and a bit of balsamic vinegar.