Monday 4 May
Another giant, thick T-bone, anointed with soy sauce and a little mustard, grilled and frequently flipped. Served alongside was a relish Holt had been thinking of: finely chopped cucumber, red onion, feta cheese, with a little lemon juice and oil. Somewhere between a salsa and a Greek salad. Which is exactly where we'd want to be.
Monday, May 11, 2009
Rapini Rotini
Sunday 3 May
As we looked over the first green things coming up in the garden, Holt pointed out the radicchio, the puntarelle, and the arugula. "That's not arugula," said Barbara. We were going to call poison control, but Holt had nibbled on it and survived, so we let it be. Later she took a closer look, and after an internet image search, the mystery plant turned out to be - broccoli raab/rapini. Why this popped up in the patch where chard and turnips were supposed to be wintering, we'll never know, but it's all brassica, I guess.
Never ones to let a useful weed go to waste, we harvested the 6 or 7 plants and picked all leaves and buds off the stems (don't let anybody fool you, those tough stems are NOT edible). Then, while the pasta water boiled, we treated them like Chinese greens but with Italian flavors: heated olive oil in the pan and broke up 3-4 anchovy fillets in it, added some chopped garlic, stir-fried the buds first, and then the rough-chopped leaves; then some chicken broth in the pan, and cover to steam until tender. When it was done, we tossed the greens with the pasta (rotini, because you want a shape that will hold the greens apart rather than let it fall into a clump) and showered with lots of grated romano.
As we looked over the first green things coming up in the garden, Holt pointed out the radicchio, the puntarelle, and the arugula. "That's not arugula," said Barbara. We were going to call poison control, but Holt had nibbled on it and survived, so we let it be. Later she took a closer look, and after an internet image search, the mystery plant turned out to be - broccoli raab/rapini. Why this popped up in the patch where chard and turnips were supposed to be wintering, we'll never know, but it's all brassica, I guess.
Never ones to let a useful weed go to waste, we harvested the 6 or 7 plants and picked all leaves and buds off the stems (don't let anybody fool you, those tough stems are NOT edible). Then, while the pasta water boiled, we treated them like Chinese greens but with Italian flavors: heated olive oil in the pan and broke up 3-4 anchovy fillets in it, added some chopped garlic, stir-fried the buds first, and then the rough-chopped leaves; then some chicken broth in the pan, and cover to steam until tender. When it was done, we tossed the greens with the pasta (rotini, because you want a shape that will hold the greens apart rather than let it fall into a clump) and showered with lots of grated romano.
Spring Soup
Saturday 2 May
Oh, the joy of a normal Saturday morning: being together, getting up late, having coffee on the couch, listening to CarTalk, and then driving to Findlay Market for a browse and greet. Among the gleanings were some wondrous fava beans at Madison's and even some baby basil plants from Nancy, so we chose to make Spring Vegetable Soup.
Onions instead of leeks again, and small red potatoes instead of green beans; but now some real basil. As it cooked, we picked some mint, made juleps, and watched the Kentucky Derby. If there's no long-tailed filly running (as the Divine Miss Williams hopes) we choose horses by names or appearances. Neither of us saw Mine That Bird coming, but we should have gone with Calvin Borel, which sounds just like Burrell. Still, the soup was marvelous.
Tuna Steaks with Sorrel Vegetables
Friday 1 May
Tuna Steaks with Sorrel Vegetables
These were the frozen 'ahi tuna steaks from Trader Joe's, simply defrosted and pan-fried quickly, so that they were still quite rare in the middle; anything more tastes like rope. As a bed for them, Holt made his not-the-Troisgros-brothers'-sorrel sauce, which is really a vegetable - or vegetables.
Tuna Steaks with Sorrel Vegetables
These were the frozen 'ahi tuna steaks from Trader Joe's, simply defrosted and pan-fried quickly, so that they were still quite rare in the middle; anything more tastes like rope. As a bed for them, Holt made his not-the-Troisgros-brothers'-sorrel sauce, which is really a vegetable - or vegetables.
Sausage and Mash
Thursday 30 April
Though it's probably illegal, Barbara drove home with a package of slowly thawing Antipasto's veal sausage in the cooler. So it made a nice simple home-again dinner the next day, with the usual onions fried alongside and some Yukon-gold mash.
Though it's probably illegal, Barbara drove home with a package of slowly thawing Antipasto's veal sausage in the cooler. So it made a nice simple home-again dinner the next day, with the usual onions fried alongside and some Yukon-gold mash.
Return of the Prodigal
Wednesday 29 April 2009
Reunited and it feels so good...
Barbara drove south like a bat out of Canada, and arrived home just in time for dinner - or maybe it's just that Holt was waiting dinner for whenever she arrived. A celebratory bottle of champagne (okay, Spanish cava, but a nice one) as we prepared the meal. Holt had slain the fatted calf - or had the butcher do it - and threw an enormous Porterhouse steak on the grill. A special bottle of St. Emilion. With it, we had a grand salad of fresh-picked garden radicchio and romaine. Ooh, it's good to be home.
Reunited and it feels so good...
Barbara drove south like a bat out of Canada, and arrived home just in time for dinner - or maybe it's just that Holt was waiting dinner for whenever she arrived. A celebratory bottle of champagne (okay, Spanish cava, but a nice one) as we prepared the meal. Holt had slain the fatted calf - or had the butcher do it - and threw an enormous Porterhouse steak on the grill. A special bottle of St. Emilion. With it, we had a grand salad of fresh-picked garden radicchio and romaine. Ooh, it's good to be home.
Tuesday, April 28, 2009
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