Clipped Wings Kitchen #6: Killin' It with Cherry Galette

When I was surfing for a dessert recipe, I stumbled on galette. I decided to make a cherry galette. I wasn't entirely sure what galette is and I never baked anything with fresh cherries. But the more I read, the more excited I got.

It could: (a) taste good, (b) prettify my red metal plate from Ocean State Job Lot and (c) be easy enough that even I, not great at pastry, could make it.

Galette is free form.
As in you don't have to fit the dough into a pie pan.
As in, so what if the sides are uneven?
As in, it's kind of like toddler art --- everything is fabulous no matter what it looks like.

Next was the cherry challenge. I had to remove the pit from every single cherry. There were a lot of them and cherries don't surrender their pits easily. If there was such a thing as a pit remover, I didn't have one. I started by cutting a knife halfway through a cherry. Then, I held its slimy body with my left hand while trying to grasp the pit with my right thumb and forefinger. I got a few pits out that way. But just as many cherries slipped out of my fingers and into the sink.

Back to research on the internet. I found "How to pit cherries if you don't have a cherry pitter." It was right above "Are cherries fattening?" I didn't read about the calories because I was already committed. (But I went back later to learn the excellent news that one cup, or 21 cherries contain less than 100 calories).

Using the chopstick, I still had to hold the slippery cherry in my left hand while I rammed the stick through the center with my right. Anyway, it was better than the knife technique.

With each stab of the chopstick, a few drops of cherry juice flew out. Across the counter. Some on the stool. Some on the floor. By the time I finished impaling all those cherries, my kitchen looked like a crime scene.

With the dirty work done, I turned to the fun. I mixed the cherries with sugar, cornstarch, vanilla extract, lime zest, lime juice and ginger. I poured the mixture into the free form galette crust and baked it at 375 degrees for 45 minutes. 

It was bloody yummy.

Clipped Wings Kitchen #5: Cinderblock (instead of a brick) Chicken

Juicy chicken roasted, flattened under a brick over an open fire. Pollo al Mattone. That's one of my favorite traveling food memories. About a dozen years ago, my family had stopped for lunch in a little garden trattoria off the Appian Way in Rome. We sat at a picnic table in the shade and waited while the chef prepared lunch. It was a luscious chicken, splayed out over the grill and crushed under the weight of a large brick.  The bird looked like the unsuspecting pedestrian in a Loony Toon cartoon, after the safe fell out of an upper story window and squashed him on the sidewalk below. Except for the unfortunate visual, everything else about that Chicken Under a Brick was perfection. It was unbelievably juicy. The flavors were intensely herbal and salty. The aroma, the wine that washed it down, the friendly hosts...everything about that lunch has been tucked away as a most favorite travel thought.

While quarantining, hoping that COVID-19 will kill itself and go away, we figured we would attempt chicken under a brick. Maybe it would trigger wonderfully happy thoughts. At the very least, it would make for a tasty Keep-COVID-Away dinner. We had raw chicken in the fridge. We had time on our hands. We just didn't have a big brick. After scrounging around in the basement, we found a small fragment of a pathetic broken brick. And a cinderblock. Nothing that a layer of aluminum foil between the cinderblock and the chicken couldn't fix. So, we pressed the weights into service and roasted the chicken in the oven.

The verdict: not nearly as good as a trip to Rome, but definitely worth staying home for.

Clipped Wings Kitchen #4: Poor Pastry Prowess

No shame. I’m baking this pie anyway. I don’t have a premade crust. I have to make my own dough. I want to use up the sorry apples that have been sitting on the counter too long, slipping into mushdum. I have a hankering for warm apple pie with a flaky buttery crust. I have flour. I have time.

At first push, it seemed like the dough would give in to the rolling pin and flatten out like the recipe said it should. That’s not exactly what happened. The dough did flatten out, but on the retreat roll back toward me, the dough pulled away from the counter and stuck to the pin. I stripped the wad of gluey dough away from the rolling pin, sprinkled more flour onto the counter and tried to roll again. Same gummy result. After a few more tries, the dough did flatten out but it was just a bigger blob of stickiness. I figured, enough of this, time to move on.

I transported glumps of dough from the counter to the baking dish in diameter installments of about 4 inches each. I jigsaw-puzzled them into the pie dish and pressed them in. Once my spicy apple filling was poured over them, nobody needed to know what the bottom of the crust looked like. It was a coverup.

Unfortunately, the pie also needs a top crust. Sure, I had just made a bad crust, but at least I wasn’t a beginner. The dough fell apart before landing on the dish, but the pieces were much bigger. I mushed the seams together and patched a seamless cover. To decorate, I stabbed a few knife slits in a star-shaped pattern. Then, attempting a professional look, I went around the rim with a fork, indenting the edges by pressing the tines into the soft mush.

I’m happy to leave my pie at what meets the eye. It's delicious. No lie about this pie.

Clipped Wings Kitchen #3: Flippin’ Over Johnny Cakes

A box of Johnny Cake mix lurked way down deep in the back of the refrigerator. That half-full container of fine white cornmeal had hung around for at least five years. Until Saturday morning, when we dug it out and used it up. Delicious decision.

Johnny Cakes are a uniquely Rhode Island tradition. They are made from finely ground white cornmeal. They are basically pancakes, in that the meal is mixed into a batter and dropped onto a hot oiled surface and fried. The Rhode Island angle derives from the history of native Americans having introduced European settlers to this local food. The word “johnny” came from “journey,” as the cakes were made in advance and taken for road snacks. 

Of course my family, having just celebrated a Passover seder last month, thinks of johnny cakes like matzo. People on the move, preparing their starchy foods for the road.

The difference with making Johnny Cakes today is that we are not in a rush to journey anywhere. Coronavirus keeps us stuck at home with lots of time to cook. We mixed the batter, fired up the frying pan and Larry cranked out a steaming pile of delicious Johnny Cakes. Maple syrup was the topping of choice. Until Max photobombed some cheddar into the scene. Good idea, Max.

Photobombed cheddar lurking in the background

And as to the Matzo for Passover last month, I wasn’t able to find any in the grocery store. So we made our own Matzo. Thank you quarantine (sort of) for the time to slow down and enjoy the journey.

Clipped Wings Kitchen #2: Back to Junior High School Home Ec

I began my quarantine cooking on Friday March 13. Instead of going to TF Green Airport to board a plane for Philadelphia to attend a family wedding, I went to Stop & Shop to load up on groceries. I figured that I would be staying inside for a couple of weeks. I intended to buy meats to stock the freezer, get some cans and dry goods to pack into the cupboard, plus bunches of fresh produce. So much for my shopping list. I was happy to walk away with anything from the store’s ransacked shelves. I grabbed the last package of chicken from the meat section. It was a pack of Kosher chicken thighs. I snapped a photo on my way out.

And so it began. I now avoid shopping in the grocery store because I’m “at risk” as I’m over that witchy age of sixty. For someone my age to be ordered to stay inside, I feel like I'm a kid again---being told what to do. 

And, as to being a kid again, I think back a lot to Home Economics class in Junior High School. I learned about how to make do when you don't have everything you think you need. Those lessons sure are coming in handy these days.

Banana Bread with Potato Flour as an Unintended Ingredient

Substitute Liberally

I have made banana bread with potato flour. Not that the recipe called for potato flour or because I thought it was a good idea. The bananas were overripe, so banana bread seemed like the thing to do. I didn’t have the two cups of flour called for by the recipe. But I did have some matzo meal. Gluten free. I would not have chosen it, but all the regular matzo meal was sold out. And it turns out, gluten free matzo meal is potato flour. And it also turns out, it makes for a delicious banana loaf.

Torshi Tareh, a Persian stew 

Do Not Waste

I made Torshi Tareh, a Persian stew made of herbs and eggs. The only reason I made it was because I ended up with three bunches of parsley and no plan for what to do with them. As great as it is to have an Instacart Shopper deliver groceries, mistakes sometimes happen. What was I going to do with three bunches of parsley? That’s where Epicurious shines. I typed in “parsley” and voila. The picture looked appetizing. I made the dish. It was pretty like the picture. But honestly, runny eggs skeeve me out a bit. And let’s just say, when we finished eating it, the leftovers did not make it into the refrigerator.

Chicken Pot Pie with made-it-all-by-myself double crust

Corn muffins (had those fancy papers sitting in the bottom of the drawer for forever)

Economize

I made a chicken pot pie. Just saying “chicken pot pie” does not give it the respect it deserves. I made the pie crust by myself from scratch. I rolled out a bottom and a top. So, really, I made two pie crusts. The last time that rolling pin saw the light of day before quarantine was maybe four years ago. I invested hours into making that pie. I even whipped up a bechamel sauce for the filling. It was gorgeous and delicious. And then, I used the half can of corn not needed for the pie filling to make spicy corn muffins. Well, there was only enough corn batter to make five muffins. Five really good muffins, they were.

Substitute Liberally. Do not Waste. Economize. I feel like I'm back in Home Economics class at Elkins Park Junior High School. When I was thirteen years old. And actually, I kind of like telling Siri to blast some Motown so I can bop around the kitchen thinking about the Rockin’ Pneumonia and the Boogie Woogie Flu---instead of that other virus.

Clipped Wings Kitchen #1 (also: A User’s guide to the New York Times “ONE Pot/Pan/Skillet”)

My condo quarantine kitchen is a refrigerator, a range topped by a few cabinets and an island. From this kitchen,  I have cranked out dozens and dozens of meals during my two months in lockdown. And I don’t mind one bit. In fact, I really enjoy the time I spend cooking and the challenge of making food that is tasty and healthy. Busy hands occupy my mind. When people reflect on life in quarantine and the importance of finding something to be grateful for, I have my answer. The “ONE.

Credit, obviously, The New York Times (but credit for not so great photo: Barbara Schoenfeld)

I'm talking about a magazine insert from a newspaper three months ago. It’s called “One Pot/Pan/Skillet: 24 Brilliant Recipes for Everyone Who Hates Doing The Dishes.” I had set it aside and saved it from February 16 Sunday New York Times. I must have thought, “Oh, that would be good for some night when we stay home and want to have a good dinner.” Yes, it is good to have. Yes, it is for some night – make that EVERY night – when we stay home and want to have a good dinner. I look at that now-crumpled, oil-stained pull-out magazine as my “One Pot Opus”.

 

Credit: The New York Times (Photographer: David Malosh, Food Stylist: Simon Andrews). Credit for bad iPhone photo copy goes to me, Barbara Schoenfeld 

The first recipe I tried was Roasted Fish with Sweet Peppers. If every night of quarantine cooking was as good as that one, sign me up for the long haul. In a single pan (as is the theme for all of these recipes), I roasted thinly sliced bell peppers. I had been able to find at Stop & Shop a mix of red, yellow and orange as the recipe called for. Adding olive oil, sea salt and sprigs of time made them smell delicious and glisten as they heated up. Gorgeous, if I must say so. (Regrettably, I did not think to snap my own photo, so I have to rely on the professional version to remember the dish). After the peppers softened, I nestled the cod fillets into a clearing in the center of the pan, surrounded by the peppers and then roasted the whole thing. I can’t find a thing to improve on it. It was yummy.

Dinner the second night of quarantine was even more delicious than the first. Maybe because it was Saturday night? No, because it was Dijon and Cognac Beef Stew. How clairvoyant of the Times, one month before COVID-19 lockdown, to republish this soul-satisfying stay-at-home dish. According to the One Pot Opus, this stew first appeared in the New York Times in 2001, right after the 9/11 attacks. The recipe author Regina Schrambling wrote, “Long before there were antidepressants, there was stew.” Its aroma bubbling on the stove and wafting through the air brings comfort. It tamps down fears of what might lie ahead. The television blared images of eerily quiet Milan, anticipating the epidemic galloping toward it. The rich stew took three hours to make, most of the time bubbling on the stove. I had all the important ingredients – the beef chuck, mushrooms, mustard. And red wine, of course. However, I did not have any cognac. I used whiskey instead. Nor did I have the two cups of beef stock called for by the recipe. The best substitute I could find was water. Didn’t matter. I couldn’t imagine this food tasting any richer or more delicious than mine did.

Working right through the pages in order (admittedly, a lack of imagination on my part), the next dinner I made was Olive-Oil Roasted Chicken with Caramelized Carrots. After loading up the pan with chicken pieces snuggled together lying under a carpet of garlic, carrots and lemon (but not fresh oregano because I didn’t have any), I dutifully followed the advice to drown the whole mosaic in a cup of olive oil. To disarm doubters like me, the recipe even says, “Yes, you’re using all that oil!” I don’t know if it really needed all that oil, but man, that chicken was tasty. The comment I scribbled to myself in the margin of the recipe was that the 325 degree temp called for is a bit too low. Try 350 degrees next time.

In another stroke of brilliant convenience, there is a recipe for spaghetti where you don’t have to bother cooking the spaghetti first. To get going, almost everything in the meal gets dumped into a single pan – Spaghetti, Cherry Tomatoes and Lemon Zest. Pour boiling water over the mixture. After six minutes, add some chopped kale and voila! (or Ecco, the Italian equivalent). With some parmesan, salt and pepper, a delicious dinner emerges ten minutes later.

The Pork Chops with Feta, Snap Peas and Mint recipe is a creative alternative to a humdrum weeknight dinner. The pork chops are crispy on the outside and deliciously flavored of pepper. The cool combination of snap peas, mint and feta is a fresh countertaste. My only “beef” with preparing this yummy recipe is that it makes an oily mess on the stove top. I had to take off the grates and wipe down the surfaces with grease-cutter detergent to get rid of the slippery, shiny reminder of what happened there.

I have made Cheesy Baked Pasta with Sausage and Ricotta a couple of times. It has become one of my favorites. It does grease up the range top from when you brown the sausage in the open pan. But after you add the large can of whole tomatoes, the splashing of hot grease dies down. After the tomatoes simmer, the recipe reverts to the easy-peasy trick of adding dry pasta into the pan along with the rest of the dish. The recipe calls for small pasta. I used shells. The note I wrote in the margin next to this recipe: Delicious! Easy! Foolproof!

As the refrigerator thinned out after a long stretch without shopping or deliveries, I rifled through the freezer searching for ingredients. I found bone-in chicken thighs. They are perfect for Dijon Chicken with Shallots and White Wine. Well, actually, I didn’t have shallots. Onions were close enough and would have to do. The only fresh thing required was cherry tomatoes. Fortunately, I had them. (No toilet paper or disinfectant spray, but I had cherry tomatoes). The dish cooked slowly on the stove for over one hour and was juicy and delicious.

Another chicken recipe: Baked Chicken with Potatoes, Cherry Tomatoes and Herbs. Gosh, there are a lot of chicken recipes and cherry tomatoes in the One Pot Opus. Which is good, because I have more chicken in my freezer than anything else.  And cherry tomatoes are plentiful in the grocery store, plus they keep for a long time in the fridge. This recipe cooks the chicken in a tight foil package. It was inspired by a technique from the Italian island of Ischia, where apparently the sand on the beach is so hot that it reaches 350 degrees. In retrofitting the recipe to a home stove, the instructions call for baking in a 450 degree oven for 30 minutes. That wasn’t enough time to cook my batch or maybe it wasn’t hot enough. I kept putting it back until 45 minutes had gone by. I scribbled in my Opus One Pot’s margin that about 15 minutes more are needed to cook the chicken and the potatoes through. Next time, I’ll also try running it under the broiler briefly to brown it just before serving.

Another night when food was running low, I made the roasted Sausage, Brussels Sprouts and Potatoes with Honey Mustard. Except I didn’t have sausage. I used bacon instead. And I didn’t have brussels sprouts, so I skipped them. I did have potatoes. And I had the goods for the sauce. And man, was it delicious.

Next was Spiced Chickpea Stew with Coconut and Turmeric. After eating the easy-to-make and absolutely delicious stew, I learned that I was a latecomer discovering this spicy, thick comfort-food soup. My friends who live in Greenwich Village and post instagram photos of their gorgeous dinners have made the chickpea stew a lot, I noticed. I scribbled a note to myself for next time --- don’t bother to set aside some chickpeas for garnish. I say that because I forgot to set them aside. After I mixed them all into the stew, I gasped at the horror of my mistake. (Not really. The chick pea garnish is irrelevant). Even if you are artistic, live in Greenwich Village and make beautifully styled meals, you don't need the chick pea garnish.

Dinner of Shrimp Scampi with Orzo, Kale, and Black Pepper Parmesan scone from Flour Fool Baking 

The Shrimp Scampi with Orzo is unbelievably easy to whip up. I dumped uncooked orzo right into the same pan with the shrimp and garlic butter, white wine and lemon. My two cents on the recipe is that it calls for too much liquid. After the orzo cooks and sucks up the juice, there’s still too much sloshing in the pan. Worse things could happen. All I needed to work around that problem was to serve with a slotted spoon. A great feature of this recipe is that if there are leftovers, they freeze well. Which means that neither the shrimp nor the orzo feel gummy the second time around.

Vegetarian Skillet Chili is spicy and tasty. Moreover, it is a really great idea for dinner when the fresh vegetable drawer is down to pathetic. I had all the live produce I needed to make this, which was onion and garlic. Since they were the only botanical things in my refrigerator, I was in business. The recipe calls for cranking open cans of black beans and diced tomatoes. When I make it again, I will skip the pickled red onions. It seemed appetizing to mix together thinly sliced red onion strands with lime juice, kosher salt and a pinch of sugar. But they didn’t live up to what I expected for them. Waste of time.

Salmon with Potatoes and Horseradish-Tarragon Sauce (The time I made it with frozen fish from China. Don't do that.)

Early on, I made the Salmon with Potatoes and Horseradish-Tarragon Sauce. It was delicious the first time around. The second time, not so good. But I am pretty sure I know why. The first time, I used fresh salmon and I followed the recipe’s instructions carefully. It was moist, like buttery moist, and the horseradish Greek yogurt sauce was a smooth complement. The second time, I used frozen salmon fillets. They had the skin on them. The recipe calls for boneless, skinless fillets. I don’t think the problem was with the skin. I think the problem was with my shopping. The fish came frozen from China. Just that day, I had read about food quality, particularly food produced in China. As I tried to eat, I couldn’t shake the images of unsanitary, unhealthy fish farming practices. That ruined the dish for me. Nothing to do with the recipe. Note to self: don’t buy frozen fish from China again. It wrecks the recipe.

There are more recipes I haven’t tried yet. It’s looking like there will more time at home to finish the One Pot and probably to move on to tackle another opus. But for now, I’m grateful to have found the ONE.