Cooking with Italian Grandmothers for #beanmonth

Cooking with Italian Grandmothers from Welcome Books on Vimeo.

I love this nonna's hands.  Thanks to Jessica Theroux for this beautiful film.  

Wanna take your own bean game to the next level?  Invest in a beautiful ceramic bean pot from La Chamba.  Use it to cook beans and braises on the stove, in the oven, or like the nonna, over an open fire.  

BEAN MONTH

photo source

Growing up, I didn't really feel one way or another about beans.  Here and there, I'd eat a few chickpeas, fava beans, or kidney beans, and lots of pinto beans alongside burritos.  They were fine.

But during the first summer I worked in the kitchen at Chez Panisse, I fell in love with beans.  Every Monday we received a shipment of vegetables from Chino Ranch, and it was my job to unpack it and put everything away.  That summer, I saw true cranberry beans for the first time--as red and round as their namesake fruit--and peeled fresh giant lima beans we simmered and serve alongside braised pork.  I was still in college, still planning to head to graduate school for poetry upon graduation, and I reveled in the names of the varietals--Dragon's Tongue, Painted Pony, Lina Sisco's Bird Egg, Coco Bianco and Coco Nero, Tiger's Eye, Snow Cap, and Jacob's Cattle.

And then, I tasted them.  I'd never known a bean could be so satisfyingly creamy or so sweet.  I was a goner.

I've loved beans ever since.  The first article I pitched to a magazine was about shelling beans.  They were the first seeds I planted when I started to garden.  I buy beans at the market in every country I visit.

But what cemented my interest in beans as a cooking teacher, and why I want to dedicate this month to celebrating beans is this: a couple of years ago, I heard Mark Bittman say was that he'd consider his career a success if he could get every family in America to make rice and beans once a week. I couldn't agree more.  Besides being beautiful and labeled with playful names, beans are accessible, cheap, nutritious and delicious.  They are easy to cook, and lend themselves to a thousand different uses in the kitchen.

And since beans are for everyone, I'm declaring January #beanmonth.  I'll be posting all sorts of links, recipes, resources, photos, poems, and more here, and on Twitter, Facebook, and Instagram.  I've started a board on Pinterest dedicated to BEANS, and I've invited friends all around the internet to join me.  Wendy MacNaughton and I are even planning a very special giveaway at the end of the month.    

Come, follow along!  Share your own recipes, links and photos with the #beanmonth hashtag.  I'd love to see everyone's favorite ways to cook and eat beans!

p.s. Lentils and chickpeas count!

Recipe: Alice Medrich's Dried Fruit & Nut Cake

Christmas.  It's a tough time for me.  My family doesn't celebrate a winter holiday, which in and of itself isn't a problem.  But there is something really poignant about waking up on Christmas morning feeling like the entire rest of the country (or world!) is celebrating together.  Definitely amplifies a sense of loneliness that's already stronger in the winter.  (Plus, I have always wanted a Christmas stocking.)

But, there are so many things I do love about the season, too.  Mostly, coziness.  And baking for other people.  I try really hard not to make anything just to have around the house, because I have little (if any) self control and can eat an entire batch of cookies without even noticing.  But I love baking for others.

This fruit and nut loaf has been one of my favorites for years.  It's insanely simple to make, lasts for a long time, freezes well, and makes for a really elegant gift.  This year I even made a batch with Cup4Cup for a gluten-free friend and it turned out GREAT.

You probably have everything you need to make this in your pantry, so if you're hankering for a last minute gift, get it in the oven tonight.

Happy holidays, friends.

Alice Medrich's Dried Fruit and Nut Cake
adapted from the incredible book, Pure Dessert

3/4 cup all-purpose flour (or Cup4Cup flour for a gluten-free loaf)
1/4 teaspoon baking soda
1/4 teaspoon baking powder
1 teaspoon salt (or 2 teaspoons kosher salt)
3/4 cup firmly packed brown sugar
3 cups mixed dried fruit (I like to use any combination of figs, dates, apricots, prunes, peaches, nectarines, and cherries) halve large fruits such as figs or peaches)
3 cups nuts (I like to use walnuts and pecans)
3 large eggs
1 teaspoon vanilla extract

Position a rack on the lowest rung in the oven and preheat to 300°F.

Prepare either one large (9 x 5 inch) or two small (8 x 4 inch) loaf pan by greasing it and lining with parchment.

In a large bowl, whisk together flour, soda, powder, and salt to combine.  Add sugar, fruit and nuts and mix thoroughly with your fingers.

In a small bowl, whisk together the eggs and vanilla.  Pour egg mixture into fruit and nut mixture and combine with your hands until everything is coated with batter.  Scrape into prepared pan(s).

Bake on lower rack of oven until an inserted toothpick comes out crumb-free.  This can take anywhere from 90-120 minutes in my experience, depending on the size of the loaf.  If the cake gets too dark, loosely cover with a piece of foil.

Cool completely on a wire rack.  Keep the cake wrapped airtight.  I leave mine out on the counter for about a week and eat a slice here and there, but you can extend the shelf life by keeping it in the fridge.  The loaf also freezes beautifully.

To serve, slice with a sharp, heavy knife.

I love serving it with cheese, or just eating it on its own.

Enjoy!

summer paella

Paella isn't that hard to make; it's just a bit of a time commitment.

The key to tasty paella is tasty stock.  Bomba rice, the traditional rice used in paella, is somewhat miraculous because it absorbs three times its weight in liquid.  Hence, the more flavorful your liquid, the more flavorful your paella.

Some other time, I'll talk you through making a simple, delicious fish stock.  But since most of us have chicken stock on hand, or know how to make it, let's start with a chicken and chorizo paella.

This paella served 12 people with abundant leftovers, and took 15 cups (just shy of a gallon) of chicken stock.  I made a stock the night before with chicken wings, bones, vegetables and herbs.  I added some canned tomatoes, two cups of white wine, a couple of dried chilies, and a pinch of saffron because I knew I'd be adding those flavors into the paella anyway.

I cannot overstate the importance of using homemade chicken stock here.  If homemade is simply not an option for you, buy some of the good stuff from your local butcher shop.  Frozen is fine.  Just do your best to avoid the stuff from a can or box.  It just doesn't taste as good, and here, the flavor of the stock is paramount.

I also made a chile paste by rehydrating about 8 dried chilies (any kind that is not too spicy is fine--espelette, ancho, New Mexico).  First, I seeded and stemmed them, then covered them with boiling water and let them sit for about 20 minutes.  Then I strained the chiles and pureed them with a few spoonfuls of the chile water and some olive oil.

I cooked mine over a live fire.  If you have a grill or firepit, build a fire using charcoal or wood at least an hour before you plan to start.  The paella should go onto a fire at its peak, and then cook over a dying flame.  You could also cook it over a gas grill, or even inside over a gas burner on the stove.

Summer Chicken & Chorizo Paella
serves 6

For the chicken & chorizo:
6 chicken thighs, skin on
3 bay leaves
1 teaspoon fresh coriander seed
1 teaspoon cumin seed, toasted lightly
2 teaspoons ancho chile powder (or any dried chile powder)
1 tablespoon smoky paprika
Salt
1 pound fresh chorizo, sliced into 1-inch pieces

For the stock:
5 cups homemade chicken stock
2 cups dry white wine
1 head garlic, halved
4 ounces canned tomatoes
2 dried chiles
3 bay leaves
pinch saffron

For the sofrito:
1 large or 2 medium yellow onions, peeled and diced
3 garlic cloves, sliced
8 ounces canned tomatoes
pinch saffron
Olive oil

Also:
Pepper paste, as described above (or just use some store-bought harissa from the tube)
2 cups arroz bomba, or in a pinch, arborio rice
1 pound romano or green beans, cut into 1-inch pieces

To garnish,
abundant chopped parsley
homemade aïoli

The night before (or as early as possible), marinate the chicken:
Combine chicken, bay leaves, coriander, cumin, ancho chile, and paprika.  Season with salt.  Make sure everything is evenly coated and refrigerate overnight.

To make the paella: 
If you're going to cook the rice over a live fire, go build it now.

First, gussy up the chicken stock.  Combine in a large pot with the wine, garlic, tomatoes, chiles, bay leaves and saffron, and bring to a boil.  Simmer for about 30 minutes to let the flavors come together.  Strain, season with salt, and set aside.  You should have six cups of stock.

While the stock is cooking, make the sofrito.  Saute the onions and garlic with the bay leaves until tender.  Squish in the tomatoes and cook down until jammy, about 20 minutes.  Season with salt and set aside.

About an hour before you start cooking the rice, roast the thighs: lay them skin-side up on a cookie sheet in an oven set to 500°F for about 30 minutes, to brown the skin and give them a head start.

To cook the paella:
If cooking over a live fire, you'll want to set the grill at least 8 inches from the coal bed.  Use some bricks or cinder blocks to achieve this if you don't have a way to raise and lower the grill.

You can also just as easily cook it over a gas grill or indoors on the stove.  And you don't need a special paella pan, though it makes for a good show and they aren't very costly.  I made a back up at the same time as the one in the photo, in a ten-inch cast iron pan, on my stove, using the proportions in this recipe, and it turned out beautifully.  

First, preheat the pan.  Get it really hot, and then drizzle in enough olive oil to coat the bottom.  Add the sofrito and a heaping spoonful of the pepper paste.  Add in 6 cups of the stock, and let it come to a boil in the pan.  Taste the liquid.  It should be very highly seasoned--this is your only chance to get the rice salted properly from within, so season it a little more highly than you might be comfortable with.  Add more chile paste to taste.  

Add the rice, give it a stir, and let everything return to a boil.  Carefully lay in the chicken pieces, chorizo, and romano or green beans.  Let the pan boil for about five minutes, and then turn it down to medium high heat.  After ten more minutes, turn it down to medium.  Cook it over medium heat for 15 minutes, and then reduce the heat to low for 15 more minutes.  The idea with paella is that it's cooked over a dying fire, so you're trying to simulate that on the stove here.  

After about 40 minutes, check the rice for doneness.  When you're satisfied that it's cooked, pull it from the stove and let it rest for about 5 minutes, then sprinkle with abundant chopped parsley and serve with aïoli.  

Don't forget to scrape the bottom.  The soccarat, or burnt crust, is the best part.

All I Want to Eat

is cold things.

Mostly cold noodles.  And cold chicken.  And coleslaw.  And cold coffee.  And smoothies.  Watermelon.  Cucumbers.  Ice.

Here are a couple of sauces for cold things that have been making my life a little nicer lately.

Miso-Mustard Dressing
2 tablespoons yellow or white miso paste
1 tablespoon honey
1 tablespoon dijon mustard
2 tablespoons rice wine vinegar
1 tablespoon toasted sesame oil

Put it all in a jar.  Shake it up.  Taste.  Adjust.  Pour over anything, or everything.  Notice I wrote it all out in tablespoons, so use the same ratio for teaspoons or cups to adjust amounts as desired.

Yesterday I put this on a slaw with cabbage, onions, carrots, peanuts, toasted black sesame seeds, ginger and garlic.  Today I will put it on lettuce.  Tomorrow, maybe cucumbers.  Or chicken.  Or soba noodles.  Put it on whatever you want.  Save the rest in the fridge.  It'll be good for a few days.  It'll be gone before that, though.

Peanut-Cilantro Sauce
2 tablespoons fish sauce
2 tablespoons rice wine vinegar
Juice of 2 limes
2 tablespoons soy sauce
1/2 inch chunk of ginger, peeled and sliced
4 tablespoons peanut butter
1 tablespoon sesame oil
1/2 jalapeño pepper
1 clove garlic
1/2 bunch cilantro, roughly chopped

Put it all in the blender.  Blend the bejeesus out of it.  Taste.  Adjust as needed with salt, lime, and jalapeño.  Serve with grilled chicken.  Smear on a hot ear of corn.  Or raw vegetables, like carrots, cucumbers, broccoli.  It can be a dip!  It can be a sauce!  It can be whatever you want it to be.

Happy summer, friends.  I am finally on my way out of the pit of despair.

Serendipity

image source

I'm still working on the book.  Various friends who've walked this path before me have referred to this point in the process as "the black hole of despair," "why crystal meth was invented," and "the point at which you lay in bed at night wondering if you should just give back the money."  All of those characterizations seem about right.

Writing a book is hard.  Really, really hard.  Don't let anyone tell you differently.

On the upside, I've been writing and thinking a lot these days about how I came to be a cook, and what I learned in my first years in the kitchen, and I thought of this courtyard.

I was on my junior year abroad, living in London, the first time I went to Italy.  Everyone told me I had to go to Florence, so I managed to get there and stay in a hostel for a couple of nights. I was totally stunned by the beauty of the town.  Just up the road from my hostel was this stunning courtyard, behind a cast iron gate, and each time I passed by I imagined the kinds of people who must live in a place like that, in a town like Florence, in a country like Italy.  I was about twenty years old, and had never imagined that life could be lived in a place where beauty like that was so quotidian.

I remember hoping that perhaps one day I could live in a place as beautiful as the building locked behind that gate.

A few years later, I returned to Florence, to apprentice myself to Benedetta Vitali at Trattoria Zibibbo.  For the first couple of months, she put me up in a convent in the hills above Florence, from which I could walk to work.  I ate my meals with nuns, stumbling through conversations with them in my pidgin Italian, washed my clothes on a washboard in the courtyard, and slept beneath a giant crucifix in my sterile dorm room.  It was amazing, but secluded and lonely.

Eventually, Benedetta moved me into town, onto Via dei Serragli, which is still one of my favorite streets in the world.  I packed up my bags, was dropped off in front of the apartment and handed a key.  I was so excited to be moving into the center of town, near museums and bookstores and cafes and non-nun-people that I hardly noticed where I was being moved into.  It took a couple of days of exploration before I realized that my new apartment was in the exact same building I'd spent all of that time day-dreaming about when I'd first come to Italy.  "Perhaps one day" had come a lot sooner than I'd ever imagined.

There's been a lot of this kind of serendipity in my life, and it helps to remember that.  Especially when I'm deep in the black hole of despair.

For Posterity

Just want to remember that this is the view from my commute every single day. 

And that, as much as I like to complain about it, I sort of love the ritual of heating up my studio in the Headlands, and the wool booties and socks, the hot water bottle, the down vest and comforter, the endless cups of tea, and the space heaters I need to keep warm and stay alive out here.  

And, as stressed out and paralyzed with doubt, and in my head, and anti-social as I feel right now, there is this sort of luxurious level of self-indulgence involved in making a creative work on this scale and that soon, when I am done, I will actually miss this.  A friend said I'm in a love affair with this book.  It's sort of like that, I think, a torturous, highest-highs, lowest-lows kind of love affair.  

I just want to say, for the record, that every single day, I still can't believe I get to write a book.  That my job is coming out to this National Recreation Area, sitting down at my desk with a view of Bolinas, and writing down every story I have ever wanted to tell about cooking, and life, and beauty and pain. That I get to walk down to the beach in the afternoon, fiery light bleeding through the iceplant down the hillside, to collect tiny, perfect sand dollars and watch dolphins pups play with their mamas on their way to warmer waters.  And that I get to collaborate with some of the most excellent people I have ever met in the making of this thing.  

I haven't lost sight of that.  

Soundtrack:

Van Morrison, Into the Mystic

James Vincent McMorrow, Higher Love

Bonnie Raitt, Bluebird

Joni Mitchell, Blue