Berry bliss.

Hello again, friends -- goodbye again, Summer! So much has happened in the blink of an eye. The last few months have been an exercise in spinning plates, developing patience and snagging sweet moments of peace between the madness. Plenty to be grateful for and happy about, but the pace has been more than I can remember in a while. As summer evenings cool into fall, I'm taking advantage of a sliver of downtime produced by some chicken and peppers on the grill to sip a glass of wine and fulfill a secret wish I've been thinking about all summer.

Starting in late spring, our grocery store stocks strawberries from Pell Farms, a New England gem which, hands down, has the best, sweetest, most consistent strawberries I've ever had. At a whopping $7/lb, they are tiny, deep red (all the way through to the center, which you could observe if you were to exercise self control and bite into one instead of shoving it whole into your mouth) and a perfect concentration of summer sun. Most days I ration them fiercely, slicing a scant few onto yogurt for breakfast or to brighten up a salad. It's funny, the things which seem outrageously expensive for what they are (even if under $10) and the other things we will splurge on (a great pair of shoes or a night out with friends).

Today for a little "me time," I washed and hulled a box of these beauties and sat down to blog and binge on as many as I wanted. It may sound ridiculous, but taking a moment to enjoy our string lights (in that magic hour before the mosquitoes come out), sip wine and eat berries seemed like an indulgence worth writing home about.

Duck foie de deux.

When Nick and I set the date for our wedding, he solemnly vowed to celebrate our anniversary and my birthday (less than a week later) independently every year. Exceptions should certainly be made, however, in the event of edibles which can be enjoyed very differently across both occasions.

This year my parents sent a delightful package of treats from D'Artagnan, purveyor of many things decadent and delicious. We've squirreled most of them away for enjoyment over the winter...but not without trying a bit of everything first. The theme:

Image from reddit.com

Duck can be a little daunting to cook - it's bigger and tougher than chicken, and quite the workout to break down a whole one ("Can you even conceive of boning a duck???" - Julie & Julia). Having made my own confit before, I know how much work it can be. Fortunately our friends at D'Artagnan make it easy to celebrate the season - flavorful confit, rich sausage, and even a medallion of truffled foie gras. We ate like kings for a week, savoring and highlighting the ingredients in two ways:

#1: Fancy picnic (after a long week at work, didn't really feel like firing up the stove on a Friday night):

L plate: the last of the summer peaches with creamy Brillat-Savarin and challah; R plate: duck foie medallion spread on toast and served with balsamic-roasted figs

As the photographer said, "Hmm, foie gras is best admired from afar."

Our local wine store team's recommendation: a dessert wine alternative to the classic Sauternes (somewhere between a Port and an ice wine)

#2: Dumplings and noodles in soup (a weekend experiment with our favorite newlyweds, my sister and her husband):

Chopping duck confit for Confit-Foie-Morel ravioli filling...

...Mixed up with the remaining foie medallion and some chopped morels:

A little assistance from Whole Foods pasta sheets (no shame!):

Brushed with egg wash to seal the edges:

The biscuit cutter returns!

Waste not - trimmed pasta sheet remnants make rustic noodles in the mushroom broth:

We reconstituted the dried morels in vegetable stock; the Chemex proved useful in filtering out mushroom sand:

Mini morels for garnish, so you know what's inside:

Because a flavorful broth makes everything better:

Surprise! a dusting of porcini powder for an extra flavor punch:

Between the two preparations, it's hard to say which I liked better - picnic-style was all about highlighting flavors, while the dumplings were more about texture (and an excuse to make and eat dumplings).

(W-L) Pats 3-1, (Sunday Home Game Braises) Bev 2-0

In food company.

I hope everyone had a wonderful Thanksgiving last week!

I don't know anyone who doesn't love eating...but it's always a special treat to get friends together who all love to cook too (as you may recall, my dearest friends in DC were dubbed "Potluck People"). A few weeks ago, five of us brought a favorite dish for a fall dinner party:

Jason's roast carrot salad: (I can't say I've ever featured carrots quite as magnificently as Jason's duo; the oven-roasted spices were a delightful, rich contrast to the tangy crème fraîche in both recipes)

Followed by roast carrot soup: (Officially my favorite take on a velvety classic)

Lilly's Boeuf Bourguignon à la Julia Child: (Cozy and splendid for a cold fall evening - with that all-day chef's love-taste)

My mini chocolate mousse cakes: (Suzy McMullen meets mousse, ganâche, toasted hazelnuts, and raspberries)

I think the logistical key to any dinner party is being aware of how much time dishes need in the oven and/or on the stove top, as everything needs to be timed out (as opposed to a larger potluck-style gathering where dishes can come and go as their chef-owners). We each prepared components of the dishes at home and then assembled and plated at our gracious host and hostess's home.

I love large events such as Friendsgiving (more on that to come), but intimate dinner parties give us all a chance to sit down at a table and enjoy...and a good time was surely had by all.

P.S. - Food52 is a fabulous website-exchange-community-resource-center-marketplace that everyone should get to know.

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Roasted Carrot Soup
(from Food52)

Serves 4

6 to 8 large carrots (about 1 3/4 lb.)
1/4 c olive oil
Salt
6 c low-sodium vegetable stock
1 inch-long piece ginger, peeled
1 sprig thyme, plus more for garnish
1/2 large sweet onion, chopped
2 large garlic cloves, chopped
Freshly ground black pepper

Peel and cut the carrots into 1/2" pieces. Toss carrots on a foil-lined baking sheet with 2 T of olive oil and sprinkle generously with salt. Set an oven rack 6-8" from the heat source and turn on the broiler. Broil carrots until they brown and soften, turning them with a spatula every 5 minutes or so; this should take 15-20 minutes.

Meanwhile, bring the stock to a boil and infuse with ginger and thyme by simmering gently for 15 minutes. Brown the onion over medium heat in a medium stock pot with the remaining olive oil, stirring frequently. Toast the garlic with the onion and oil, then add carrots. Remove the ginger and thyme from the stock and add the stock to the pot with the onions and carrots. Bring to boil and simmer for 5-10 minutes, until the carrots are soft enough to puree.

Use an immersion or a standard blender to puree the mixture until smooth. Adjust consistency if desired by adding more stock or water. Add salt and pepper to taste.


Carrot Avocado Salad
(from Food52)

2 lb. large carrots quartered and cut into 3" segments, peeled (about 4 c)
Kosher salt
1 orange
1 lemon
1 t cumin seeds
2 medium garlic cloves
1 T fresh thyme leaves
1/2 c extra-virgin olive oil
1 t red wine vinegar
1 t red pepper flakes
Freshly ground black pepper
1 T sugar
1 avocado, cut into 12 wedges
2 c mixed baby sprouts, herbs, and microgreens
1/4 c crème fraîche
2 T toasted sunflower seeds
2 t toasted sesame seeds

Adjust an oven rack to the center position and preheat the oven to 450*F. Place carrots in a saucepan and cover them with cold water. Season with salt, set over high heat, and bring to a simmer. Reduce the heat to medium and simmer until tender, about 10 minutes. Drain the carrots and transfer them to a medium bowl.

Cut the orange and lemon in half and juice half of each one, reserving the juice and the remaining halves. Combine cumin, garlic, thyme, 2 T olive oil, the red wine vinegar, red pepper, 1 t orange juice, and 1 t lemon juice in a blender until smooth. Season the marinade to taste with salt and pepper. Add the marinade and the unjuiced citrus halves to the carrots and toss to combine. Spread the carrots and citrus halves on a rimmed baking sheet and bake until the carrots are slightly shriveled with a few brown spots, about 20 minutes. Allow the carrots to cool to room temperature.

Meanwhile squeeze the juice from the roasted citrus halves into a small bowl. Add the remaining fresh orange juice, lemon juice, remaining 6 T olive oil, and sugar. Season the dressing to taste with salt and pepper, and whisk to combine. Divide the carrots and avocado slices onto four plates. Divide the greens among the plates on top of the carrots and avocado. Add a tablespoon of crème fraiche to each salad. Sprinkle sunflower seeds and sesame seeds over each plate. Drizzle dressing over and around each salad (reserve any remaining dressing for another use), and serve immediately.

Millions of peaches.

I think we may have made an official tradition: fruit picking on my birthday weekend. This year was extra special, with a trip to my first peach grove. I won't further belabor the point about how much I love peaches, but I was in stone fruit heaven.

Ward's Berry Farm is a fabulous farm whose bins overflow with enormous pumpkins, fat butternut squashes, perfectly sour Concord grapes, and, of course, jewel-like berries. We got lucky: the weather was gorgeous, we had a very nice (unofficial) tour guide, and I think we picked the very last of all of New England's peaches. Our guide walked us through the back areas of the operation, tossing plump cherry tomatoes at us and cutting off pieces of ripe fruit with a pocket knife. He showed us what we were looking for in a ripe peach:

• barely firm fruit that "gives" with a (very) slight squeeze
• a warm, fuzzy, sun-warmed fragrance
• and the most important thing -- in addition to a nice rosy blush, a sunny yellow undertone. (Even if a greenish-yellow foundation is blooming red, it might just be pretending, as the redness is attributed to exposure to the sun...only part of the ripening process.)

Our friend advised us that we would find some of the best peaches on the ground -- just brush off the (dry) soil, and voila. Occasionally we would have to fight Nature for a really good-looking one, but sometimes we would also get lucky and hear the soft thud of a just-ripe peach before it had been claimed. We also found plenty on the tree after all, but it was quite different from other fruit-picking experiences I've had.

We did a pretty good job. (Don't worry, these aren't all mine.)

We threw a few on the grill with our fellow peach-pickers: ("marinated" first)

And I whipped up a batch of brown-butter peach scones when I got home. The scones were a little more like a quick bread than a scone (I prefer my scones with a good crust all around), but they were delicious nonetheless. Big sugar crystals on top give a nice crunch.

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Brown-Butter Peach Scones

from AskChefDennis.com and Tutti Dolci

Makes 2 dozen

10 T unsalted butter

4 c all-purpose flour

2/3 c sugar

4 t baking powder

1 t baking soda

1/2 t salt

1/2 t cinnamon

2 c diced peaches

1 1/3 c low-fat buttermilk

2 large eggs

1 t vanilla extract

1 T turbinado sugar

Melt butter in a heavy saucepan over medium heat, stirring constantly until it foams, turns clear, and then turns a deep brown, about 6 min. Pour browned butter into a glass dish and chill in the freezer until solid and chilled, about 1½ hr.

Preheat oven to 400*F and line a baking sheet with parchment paper. Whisk together flour, sugar, baking powder, baking soda, salt, and cinnamon in a large bowl.

Dice chilled brown butter into small pieces; sprinkle over flour mixture and use a pastry cutter to cut in evenly until mixture resembles coarse meal. Dry peaches between layers of paper towels; add to flour mixture, folding in gently.

Whisk together buttermilk, egg, and vanilla extract in a small bowl; add to flour mixture and fold in just until incorporated. Use a floured bench scraper (or rubber spatula) to scrape dough out onto prepared baking sheet; generously flour hands and pat dough into an 1.5" thick round.

Score deeply into 24-48 pieces (depending on what size you want) with a knife; sprinkle dough with turbinado sugar. Bake 20-25 min., or until golden. Cool 2 min. on baking sheet, then carefully transfer to wire rack to cool before cutting completely.

The fruits of our labor.

I forgot how glorious summer in New England is. I may prefer mid-Atlantic winters (without their nor'easters), but I do love summer in Boston. Work has been a bit crazy for me lately, but the Fourth of July holiday long-ish weekend gave me a nice way to break up the work and the play (even if Saturday was spent entirely indoors staring at a laptop screen). I was well rewarded Sunday by a classic New England summer: an afternoon at beautiful Crane Beach, berry picking, and a lobster dinner.

You may remember my fall birthday post which featured apple picking at Russell Orchards in Ipswich, MA. Apples are the only you-pick fruit I've tried, so I jumped at the opportunity to pick raspberries (probably my favorite fruit next to peaches). This time my height gave me more of an advantage relative to Nick, as the best berries we found were hidden under short vines. After our lovely afternoon at the beach with friends, we raced the evening storm picking pints of luscious, ruby-red raspberries, and we even managed to snag some blueberries on our way out of the orchard. Raspberries funny to pick - when you pluck the berry off its stem, you leave behind an alarmingly large core which fills the hollow. You could tell which berries were ripest by which ones came away effortlessly from their centers. I was a little greedy and grabbed some slightly less-ripe ones, but my picking companions were a little more selective:

The berries (which made it home uneaten) made a lovely topping for a panna cotta I had made earlier in the week:

Our dinner at Woodman's of Essex (also a bit laborious, but equally well worth the effort):

It was, all around, a deliciously New England day.

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Panna cotta is, truly, one of the simplest and most delicious summer desserts ever...and it sounds fancy and foreign. The key is not to freak out - it really will unmold from the ramekin with a little coaxing. Flavor in infinite ways or serve with fresh fruit.

Goat Yogurt Panna Cotta

(from Farmers' Market Desserts, by Jennie Schacht)

Serves 4

1 1/4 t unflavored gelatin

2 T water

1 1/4 c heavy cream

1 c plain goat's milk yogurt

1 t pure vanilla extract

small pinch sea salt or Kosher salt

1/3 c granulated sugar

Sprinkle gelatin evenly over the water in a small bowl without stirring. Let stand until softened, about 10 min. Whisk together 1/2 c of the cream, the yogurt, vanilla, and salt in a bowl. Gently heat the remaining 3/4 c cream with sugar in a small saucepan over medium-low heat, stirring until the sugar is dissolved and bubbles begin to form along the edge of the pan. It should be warm but not so hot you can't touch it.

Remove from heat and, using a silicone spatula, scrape in the softened gelatin, then stir for a full minute to dissolve the gelatin completely. (Don't rush this step; it's important to fully melt the gelatin.) Stir the cream-gelatin mixture into the yogurt mixture.

Pour mixture into four 6-oz ramekins (or other containers - I found a glass with ridges inside for a pretty pattern), divide evenly. Cool completely and cover with plastic wrap. Refrigerate until set, about 4 hr. or up to 3 days. When ready to serve, run a knife around the edge of the container; you may need to encourage it out onto a plate.

(I macerated fresh berries in 2 T of Grand Marnier for half an hour with 1 T sugar, then spooned over the top of the panna cotta - it was awesome.)

Bring a torch.

 

Happy new year, everyone! I hope you all had a great holiday with friends and family.

I love citrus. Every morning in college, I had half a grapefruit with breakfast. I wore a citrus perfume for a couple years. I love Meyer lemons (the scent of my favorite hand soap), lemon in savory dishes, and a fat wedge of lime in my G&T. When my family went to Matsuhisa last year, I was properly introduced to yuzu, a delightful East Asian citrus fruit that has all the tangy-yet-sweet-ness that makes the corners of your mouth turn up with a zing. So enthusiastic were we about the yuzu juice that we convinced our waiter to give us a little spoonful to take home for the seafood dinner we planned to cook the next night.

This year for my dad's Christmas present (conveniently, when the fruit is in season), we ordered fresh yuzu online. My parents love fresh seafood, so we knew the yuzu would be put to good use. The fruit itself was totally unexpected -- about the size and shape of a slightly bumpy orange, the bright yellow sphere was so fragrant that I figured it would be bursting with juicy segments of fruit. On the contrary, once we cut open the fruit, it looked shriveled and chock full of seeds. We fortunately had come across a recipe that mentioned this, otherwise we probably would have thrown the first one (and perhaps another) out. To extract every bit of flavor, we zested the rind, squeezed some of the halves, and pureed the flesh of others to press through a sieve to extract the essential pulp.

"What else can we make?" my mom asked, brainstorming diverse and festive ways to use our yuzu. We settled on crème brûlée, which was exciting both because we had never made any before, and because we would finally need to buy a torch(!). The torch took some hunting around town, but we eventually found one, and it was worth the search.

The result was exactly what we hoped for -- luxuriously creamy, slightly sweet but balanced, protected by a crystalline golden crust that made a satisfying tap tap tap when I broke the surface with my spoon. Brûlée first-timers, fear not! The recipe below was straightforward and successful. The perfect end to our Christmas dinner.

Tip: The torch flame will have two distinct blue "cones" (thanks, high school chemistry!) -- you want the very tip (HOT!) of the inner cone to reach the sugar surface for optimal caramelization.

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Yuzu Crème Brûlée
from Tartlette Blog


For the custard:
6 egg yolks
1/2 c sugar
2 c heavy cream
zest of 3 yuzu
puree and juice of 3 yuzu (about 1/3 c combined juice and puree)

For the sugar crust:
1/4-1/2 c granulated sugar

In a large bowl, whisk together egg yolks and sugar until pale and thick (3-5 min). Meanwhile, place the cream in a saucepan over medium-high heat and bring to a simmer. Add the citrus mixture. It helps to have two people for this part: When the cream is hot (but not boiling), (person 1) slowly pour it over the reserved egg yolk mixture, (person 2) whisking constantly to prevent the yolks from curdling. Let cool to room temperature and refrigerate at least 4 hours, preferably overnight. (We were in a hurry and expedited the process by pouring the mixture into a flat glass dish to maximize cooling surface area, freezing the slightly cooled mixture for 30 min. before continuing to chill in the fridge for another hour or so.)

Preheat the oven to 350*F. Place six ramekins (depending on size) in a deep baking pan. Strain the mixture into a 3-4 cup measuring container (the spout makes pouring easier). Discard the yuzu. Pour into the ramekins until about 1/4-1/2" from the rim.

Place the baking pan in the oven and pour enough hot water to reach about halfway up the sides of the ramekins. Bake for about 20-25 min (longer if the ramekins are deeper, less time if they're shallow). Remove from the oven and let cool before removing the ramekins from the pan.

Refrigerate until completely cold. (Again, our freezer came in handy here.) When ready to serve, sprinkle each ramekin with 2-3 teaspoons of sugar and caramelize the tops with a blow torch.

(Nearly) Passed the Pasta

Getting to know my new commute, I've discovered a few wonderful surprises along the way:

• It's actually not that far to walk from South Station to Park St. (especially in this nice early-fall weather).
• There's a whole world of artisan ($$$) home decor stores in what otherwise seems to be a pretty abandoned area between my office and the T.
• The route from work to home is bookended by two locations for my favorite bakery, Flour.
• There's a twice-weekly farmers market right next to South Station!
• On Tuesdays, there's a fabulous fresh pasta stand (Valicenti Organico) at the Dewey Square farmers market.
• Valicenti Organico accepts credit cards.

One of my favorite things about my apartment in Virginia was the Tuesday farmers market right at my doorstep. I had no idea there would be such a convenient market on my commute here as well...as I walked around the tents, I found delicious homemade granola, gorgeous leafy chard, bone-in, thick-cut pork chops, and Valicenti Organico  fresh pasta from New Hampshire. Valicenti uses their home-grown organic ingredients as much as possible, creating inventive, seasonal ravioli combinations (roasted pear, prosciutto, gorgonzola; grilled corn with fennel, peppers, and dry Jack; brandied lobster, to name a few) and tasty specialty pastas. I tried a gluten-free spaghetti that had all the satisfying bite of an al dente semolina noodle. After two previous weeks' failed attempts, I was finally able to get my hands on an obviously popular duck confit-ginger-shiitake ravioli. I took it home and sauteed some mushrooms with lots of garlic, shallots, chard, and brown-butter -- the perfect fall bite.

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Duck Confit-Ginger-Shiitake Ravioli with Brown Butter

Serves 3

1 pack of duck confit-ginger-shiitake ravioli (20 per pack)

3-4 cloves garlic, minced

1 medium shallot, minced

8 oz cremini mushrooms, cleaned and sliced

2-3 green onions, sliced

medium bunch Swiss chard, roughly chopped

1 c frozen green peas

6 T butter

salt and pepper, to taste

Melt 2 T butter in a heavy-bottomed skillet over medium heat. Saute garlic and shallots until golden, then add mushroom slices and brown (don't crowd them!). Season with salt and pepper. When mushrooms are browned, add chard and wilt. Salt chard to taste. Toss peas until defrosted. Remove vegetables from pan.

Bring a pot of salted water to a boil and cook ravioli according to package instructions.

When ravioli is nearly cooked, melt remaining 4 T of butter in the empty saute pan and watch carefully - let brown gently until foamy, then turn off heat and toss vegetables, ravioli, and green onions together. Serve immediately. Check cholesterol.