Stephencooks

White Bean Ragout

  

Another warming dish for midwinter, this white bean ragout is easy to make and very satisfying when the cold winds blow. It's quite versatile, too. I usually serve it as a side to a roast, but it can be served as a first course, as a hearty soup (see note following recipe), or as a sauce tossed with penne pasta and sprinkled with some shredded Parmeggiano Reggiano. You can even purée it and use it for a very interesting dip with chunks of crusty bread.

Braised Cabbage with Apples and Onions

  

This simple preparation is one of the longest running supporting players in my cast of old reliable recipes, and it never fails to bring in compliments and praise. It's especially popular when paired with roast pork, as you might imagine.  I know that some people think they don't like cabbage in any form, but these people ususally become the biggest fans of this dish!

Flounder and Maine Shrimp Roulades in Polenta Cups

  

There was a snowstorm a couple of days ago and when I stopped at my local fish market they apologized for the sparse selection in their display case. "We couldn't get to the Boston wholesale market so all we have is local stuff." Gentlemen: no apology necessary! In the case were more of the fabulous local diver scallops I keep raving about, mussels, clams, oysters, some beautiful little flounder fillets, and a bucketful of the wonderful pink Maine shrimp we get fresh in the winter. I took a pound each of the fillets and the shrimp.

This preparation is the result of my desire to come up with a presentation of the delicate fillets and tiny shrimp that would allow them both to be visible in the finished dish. I have, on occasion, made a wonderful seafood pie (basically a quiche with fruit de mer and herbs) but while it tastes great the seafood isn't really visible when the dish is plated. What I came up with was a distant cousin of the seafood pie: I used the fillets to line little polenta cups, mounded the the shrimp in the middle, and then spooned a tiny bit of egg and cream custard (with some leeks and pancetta added) into the cups to bind it all together.

These little nests of fresh seafood, with leeks and pancetta accents, were a great success. With a salad, a nice crusty baguette and a crisp sauvignon blanc they made a memorable little Maine seafood supper.

Seared Sea Scallops with Roasted Pears and Honey Butter

In my dreams I could invent dishes this good!  This spectacular treatment of diver scallops is an adaptation of a recipe given to me by Lisa Martel of On the Park, a now defunct but fondly remembered participant in the vibrant and exciting Boston South End restaurant scene in the 90's.

For another great way to prepare scallops, see Seared Scallops with Wine-Braised Leeks.

In 1992 I moved to Union Park, in Boston's South End, where there was a restaurant revolution in progress, pretty right much at the end of my street. Gordon Hammersley, cooking every night in his Red Sox hat in a storefront at the corner of Tremont Street and Union Park, was making magic and single-handedly changing the neighborhood from an edgy, maybe-too-dangerous place to an extremely hip destination.

Fast forward a few years. Condos within walking distance of Hammersley's are routinely selling for over a million bucks and the South End is the foodie destination in Boston. Every week there's another entry in the restauarant derby. Lisa was at the other end of Union Park, where hookers still prowled and it probably was a little too dangerous, running On the Park, a 34-seat restaurant, founded in 1991 and styled as a neighborhood joint. The food was as interesting as Hammersley's but half the price, every month there was a new exhibit of edgy local art on the walls, and there was always a table for the regulars. I couldn't afford Hammersley's on a regular basis, and his tables were difficult to get, but I was in On the Park every week, and it seemed like heaven.

Fast forward again to 2001 and I had a gig writing a food column for the neighborhood rag, the South End News. Of course, I interviewed Lisa for a piece, and in the course of the interview she gave me the recipe for this dish. (Click HERE to read my column about Lisa).

Another few years go by and I've relocated to Maine. I'm back in Boston on business in early 2004 and I go past Lisa's corner and see...that On the Park is no more: replaced by a pizza and panini place called Joe V. A note in the Boston Globe reported that Lisa had sold the restaurant and that she was "going to Hawaii to think about things." I remembered that in our meeting I got the feeling that she was tired, worn out from 6 days a week, working every night and cooking up 350 breakfasts every weekend.

Delivering good food every night is grindingly tough. Lisa Martel was an underappreciated contributor to the South End restaurant scene in the 90's in Boston, and I look back fondly on the meals I had in her shop. If anyone knows where Lisa Martel is and what she's doing, please let me know.ds

Rosemary Rutabaga Fries

  

Now that we all know what rutabaga is, we can think about all the wonderful things we can do with it. These "fries," which are actually baked, are a tasty little side dish, and by changing the flavorings they can take on any number of different identities.

Scialatelli with Tomato Cream Sauce and Shrimp

  

Cream, Elizabeth David reported to us (Italian Food), "is rarely used in Italy for the cooking of meat, fish or sauces as it is in France." This detail, however, didn't deter some chef in the 80's from adding cream to tomato sauce, tossing in some vodka and introducing Penne with Vodka Sauce. (Why is it always penne, I wonder?) This dish had a viral run of popularity in the 80's and even today is found on menus all over the world. Recipes for it can be found for it that tout it as an Italian traditional dish, which if true refers only to a "tradition" of about twenty years in length and based on a dish imported to Italy from the U.S!

On the other hand, Marcella Hazan (Essentials of Classic Italian Cooking) has a "Pink Shrimp Sauce with Cream," which, while omitting the vodka, is pretty much like all the vodka sauce recipes. While she calls it an "elegant and lively sauce," she doesn't shed any light on its origins, though I think given the title of her book I'd hope I'm within bounds if I assume the sauce is of classic origins. (She recommends tagliatelle or pappardelle, by the way.)

There's also Alfredo Sauce, popularized by a restaurant in Rome and served by the tankerload at Olive Garden, which includes cream in every version I've seen. Hazan has it in her book as well (where she calls it "Cream and Butter Sauce" but references Alfredo Sauce in the introduction). I was surprised to find it in her book,  since the version actually developed and served at the original Alfredo's restaurant is made only with cheese and butter, and Italians are in general unaware of the cream-based "Alfredo sauce," except as a reverse import. I suppose, however, books for the American market have to contain dishes that Americans expect to find.

None of these authenticity issues, however, got in my way last night when I got a request from E, my most faithful regular diner,  for a creamy pink sauce with shrimp and pasta, so I read three or four of the thousands of recipes for Vodka Sauce on the web (from Emeril to Epicurious) and went to work. This version, which brings in pancetta and shallots and introduces a hint of garlic, was exactly the silky comfort food we were looking for on a snowy night by the fire. Authentic? I don't think so. Good food? Definitely!

By the way, I used the meaty Amalfi style of pasta called scialatelli (imported by Pirro), which is basically a thicker round spaghetti. These thick strands, I think, lent to the hearty feeling the dish had. In the absence of scialatelli, I'd use linquine, I guess, or maybe even...penne.

Onion and Kabocha Squash Gratin

 

Another venture into the lighter, healthier side! While cruising the winter squash display at my local market, I found this attractive kabocha squash, which is also known as a Japanese squash or as Sweet Mama (as the Québécois import I used was labeled). This 6" diameter squash is a pleasant alternative to the familiar butternut. It has sweet, incredibly smooth flesh which looks like orange sherbert when cut, and no hint of fibrousness. The green striated skin looks tough as nails but in fact is thin and is easily removed with a regular vegetable peeler.

This gratin, adapted from a butter-heavy butternut version by Jacques Pepin, combines onions and herbs nicely with the squash and the crunch of the topping is a pleasant addition. Pepin used rosemary in his preparation, which is a very good pairing with the onions, but oregano or thyme works well too.

Buttered Rutabaga with Herbs

  

Okay, it's January, and like everyone else I've been gravitating to a lighter, healthier style of food. I'll drift back, I know, but after the holidays and too many roasts, too much gravy, too many cookies and cakes and pies, not to mention the whipped cream  toppings...a nice plate of plain rice and steamed vegetables seems pretty good to me.

My wife Elise is a turnip lover, and she likes her turnips plain, without cheese or sauce or other vegetables mixed in to disguise or change the flavor. I love request cooking, so I gladly accommodate her, and as a consequence I've become a turnip lover too. The earthy, delicate taste has a clean, honest feel, and of course they are very low in calories, even with the small amount of butter I use.

The rutabaga (on the left), also called a yellow turnip, is actually a cousin of the familiar purpletop turnip (shown right), the result of a crossing of turnips with cabbage (or kale, as I have seen in one article). The rutabaga is much bigger, commonly 4 or 5" in diameter, compared to the purpletop's 1-1/2 - 2" typical size. The rutabaga is cultivated in cold climates. Called a swede in England (since it was introduced from Sweden) and a neep in Scotland, they are generally not popular anywhere...except in our house, I guess.

Jambalaya Calzone

   

Kevin over at Seriously Good made a calzone a few weeks back which got me thinking about these little cousins of the sandwich, the pizza and the Cornish pasty. I'm on a program to use up stuff that's been in the freezer long enough, and a little digging turned up a bag of frozen shrimp, some andouille sausage and a container of Jambalaya Sauce so I was ready to go. A few generous slices of fresh mozzarella, a sprinkling of parmesan cheese and we had a nice platterful of spicy calzones for a day of NFL playoffs. By the way, a great side with these calzones is a big bowlful of my Spicy Coleslaw. And beer. Don't forget the beer...!

Baby Calamari Stuffed with Shrimp and Pancetta

  

I get these baby squid, imported from Vietnam, in 2-1/2 pound frozen blocks at the Asian market. They are very tender, so I've found a lot of pleasant ways to use them. These tasty little bites make a great appetizer, or they can be served with a plate of Pasta all'Aglio e Olio, a salad and a crusty bread for  a casual supper (the kind we have most nights around here, it seems!).

Seared Scallops with Wine-Braised Leeks

 

The other day I stopped by Free Range Fish for some of the spectacular scallops they get directly from the dive boat every day. About 10 - 12 to a pound, these babies are silky and sweet.  J's Oyster Bar up the street serves them raw with a squeeze of lime -- an addictive treat, and one that really brings home the meaning of the term "food porn."

For another great way to prepare scallops, see Seared Sea Scallops with Roasted Pears and Honey Butter.

This preparation is simple and very tasty, and showcases, rather than masking or distracting from, the fresh goodness of the scallops. The scallops are seared for a few seconds and then perched atop little nests of the creamy braised leeks, which is flavored with tarragon. A great appetizer with one or two on the plate, or, with 3 or 4 and paired with some plain white rice and a salad, a nice casual supper dish. Serve with a crusty French bread and a crisp dry white wine, or possibly with prosecco.

Haddock Poached in Wine with Maine Shrimp Sauce

  

Another of the great wild-caught seafood harvests in Maine is the beautiful little shrimp that appears in our markets in the winter. Fresh, delicate and flavorful, these little guys are a lot of work to prepare but worth every minute of it. Paired with fresh-from-the dock haddock fillets, they make a remarkable and memorable meal of Maine goodness.

This dish comes with some personal history...in 1969, when I was still an undergraduate, a girlfriend gave me a copy of Julia Child's Mastering the Art of French Cooking  (this was before Volume II, so it didn't carry the "Vol. I" designation) and over the next few years I dipped into it gingerly. As time went on, however, cooking a dinner for a date (because I couldn't afford to take them out to dinner!) became a regular routine for me, and very early on I latched on to Julia's Filets de Poisson with Sauce Parisienne (sole poached in wine and sauced with a white sauce made from the poaching liquid) as my regular seduction supper. I made this dish probably five times a year until I finally stopped dating and got married at 35!

Did it work? Well, I kept doing it so perhaps a conclusion can be drawn...it is an impressive dish, appropriate for a romantic candlelit table and a bottle of crisp Sauvignon Blanc or Pino Grigio.  Simple in appearance -- poached fillets with a sauce -- but delicate and, yes, seductive in its flavor: the fresh, slightly briny fish, the wine, the butter, the herbs. So, yes, I  can say I have  some nice memories of those dinners. And doing it over and over, as I did, gave me a lot of confidence with the dish, and with fish in general. Okay, I know: some guys have a great pickup line, other guys have a flashy car, snappy wardrobe, big job or bling-bling jewelry. I've got poached fish! Whatever...!

This version is an adaptation of Julia's original...fairly close to it, but simplified a bit, adding the shrimp and omitting the eggs and cream from her sauce to lighten it up...

Bacallà Marsala

 

One of my all-time favorite Italian restaurants, The Daily Catch, on Hanover Street in Boston's North End, has a dish -- Monkfish Marsala -- that stands tall in memory long after the meal is done. Slices of monkfish, cooked, in the manner of Piccate al Marsala (Veal Scaloppine Marsala), in a sauce of butter, marsala wine and garlic. Over the years I've tried it in my kitchen, with some success.

At the end of the year, with Christmas coming on, I was thinking of salt cod, since every year I make the wonderful bacallà stew that my friend Donna introduced to me. And since I had a little more than I needed for the stew, I made Serenata de Bacalao (salt cod salad), drawing on a Puerto Rican recipe my friend Carmen gave me, and a couple of other Puerto Rican dishes to go with it.

Now I'm hooked on salt cod and want to do some exploration of what it can do. The flesh is sweet and salty at the same time. It's firm, holding together nicely without being at all tough, and there's no hint of "reconstituted" about it. No wonder that this lowly dried fish has been so important in so many European, Caribbean, North and South American cuisines for centuries.

Bacallà Marsalla seemed to me to be an obvious place to start my exploration, and the result was very satisfying. Just as at the Daily Catch, the combination of the fish, wine, garlic and butter works very well, and with salt cod instead of monkfish, the counterpoint of the slightly salty fish and the sweetness of the wine sauce was particularly nice. Although we almost always have the monkfish at the Daily Catch with linquine, I served the bacallà with a simple Risotto Milanese (made with chicken stock and saffron and garnished with a few chopped oil-cured black olives) and some crusty bread.