31 jan 2011

24 jan 2011

Dansk

Tarragon & Leek Risotto

I'm always surprised by leeks. They don't look like much, but they really deliver. Chop a large leek into rings and fry over a low flame in some butter and oil. You don't want it to colour, just to soften. The leek will produce a wonderful, aromatic fug, sweet and herbal. Stir in the Arborio rice (rinse the rice first, until the water runs clear) until all is sleek and shiny with butter and add a glass of good white wine, stirring, stirring…

Pull the leaves off the stems of a fat bunch of fresh tarragon and add the first fragrant, aniseedy handful now, along with about a teaspoon of dried tarragon. Once the wine has been absorbed, start adding ladlefuls of chicken stock. When absorbed, add more, keep stirring. Make sure to enjoy this mindless, repetitive activity. It’s part of what makes risotto so comforting!
Add some more tarragon after every couple of ladlefuls of stock. It should take about twenty minutes for the rice to cook. Add a handful of freezer greens after about fifteen minutes. I always use peas and sometimes green beans too, but whatever you’ve got is fine, you’re mostly looking for some different textures. Season with some white pepper (it should have enough salt already because of the stock) and add a final scattering of fresh tarragon. If you want to add cheese, I’d go with a grating of pecorino, or make some pecorino crisps.

18 jan 2011

Pasta 101

Suddenly I am overwhelmed by the desire to rid the world of a few misconceptions. This is a grand, ambitious plan, I know, so to make it a bit more manageable I'll just stick to misconceptions about cooking pasta. For now.

First of all, should you really add salt to the water to you cook your pasta in?
YES!
There is a saying so wonderful that to read it once is to remember it forever and it is this: You should always cook your pasta in water as salty as the Mediterranean.
Now, salt will not influence the actual cooking, it will not (in any significant way) alter the boiling point. Nor will it not stop the pasta from sticking or any such nonsense. It will simply season the product. And you should always season, whatever you're cooking. Pasta itself isn't much of anything and unsalted pasta just tastes of a flabby nothing.
Adding salt after cooking doesn't do anyone any favours either; you'll just have a flabby nothing with bits of salt clinging to it. Adding the salt to the water means it will infuse the pasta and this will give it body and bite (in terms of flavour).
So add it, and quite a bit of it too, seeing how most will go down the drain. Just remember when you were a kid, swimming off the coast of Italy or Spain and accidentally swallowing a mouthful of water. That's the level of salt we're talking about.

And about adding oil or butter to the water you’re cooking pasta in?
DON’T!
It’s another bizarre misconception that oil will stop the water from boiling over. Why would this be the case? The mind boggles.
If your water is boiling over, your pan is too small or you should turn the heat down a bit. You don’t need a raging inferno to maintain a steady boil; a moderate flame will do just fine.
Another so-called reason for adding oil is (again) that it will stop the pasta from sticking. Pasta needs plenty of water to move around in. If it doesn’t have enough water, then it’ll stick. So use a big pan with lots of boiling water and stir the moment you tip the pasta in and a minute after, it’ll be fine.
Adding oil will make the pasta slippery, that’s true, but that just means any sauce you’re planning to add later will slide right off as well.

One last thing:
Testing whether spaghetti is cooked by flinging a strand at the wall does sort of work: when it’s cooked, it will stick. It’s also great fun. Just biting into a strand does give you slightly better results however. Sorry about that.

Catching Rays

Get a generous armful of the best tomatoes you can find (If you rub them, you should smell them. No smell? Waste of money)
Quarter them and put them in a large tray with red onions, a bit of garlic (in it's skin), a few sprigs of thyme, some olive oil, butter and seasoning.
Roast in a hot oven until fragrantly blistered. Blitz, add some water, some stock if you thinks it needs it, and a slosh of good balsamic vinegar to turn this roasted tomato soup into a bowl full of Tuscan goodness.

Domestic Goddess Up Close

The interview with Nigella Lawson in dutch weekly Elsevier.
Also, she signed me a copy of her new book (translated version). Good times!






Imbolc

This winter has lasted quite long enough.
We've had the dubious fortune to enjoy months of snow, which was slowly trampled into an icy death trap. Trains were apparently not up to it and immediately put out to pasture. Hours were spent on freezing platforms waiting for nothing. Add to that the fact that I've recently taken a trip to Stockholm, terribly, deliciously cold, and to Berlin, shockingly: even colder. On a good day the temperature rose to a balmy -16 degrees.
Now it's January and I feel ready to check Winter off my list for yet another year. Of course Spring, our official calendar version, is a ways off yet. However the pagan Spring, known as Imbolc, is well underway. Small sleepy things are once again stirring underground, rustling, budding, getting ready. And me? I've started rereading Hyddenworld part 1 (by William Horwood), I have a stack of cookbooks at the ready and I am anxiously awaiting the first of the Spring fruit and veg. My beloved rhubarb is on it's way. Can't be long now, surely.