Made with love ~ Early Girl Tomato Pan Bagna

I really do love to cook. Outside of the Beatles, It's been my longest romance. Sure, I've loved some great guys over the years but how can they compare to the perfect buckwheat crepe? Or the lightest of gnocchi? Or the sweetest ear of corn in the heart of July? Well, they certainly did compare...

I loved one man so much I called him my Sweet Pie, or maybe that's what he called me... Every summer I would bake him peach pies with blackberries from our bramble of blackberries; and grill flat bread with the ripest tomatoes and basil from our garden. Sometimes I even called him Honey.

For another I made trays of enchiladas with handfuls of grated chili cheese, and crema. And once I made a turkey with stuffing and gravy: it was summer.

Mustard-honey glazed ham with butter biscuits; warm deviled eggs with crumbled bacon; "toasties" bubbling with cheddar-beer sauce and crowned with melted onions. Simple dishes and all in the name of love...

So, you can imagine what romance the farmers market brings me, especially in summer.  The market is loaded with romance: fresh chickpeas still in their husks, sugary Charentais melons, the sweetest Lipstick and Pimento peppers, juicy Lady in Red peaches; and of course, the Early Girl tomato, with her perfect balance of sweetness and acidity.

And thank god she's come to Los Angeles; I've been waiting for her at the farmers markets for the past seven years. In San Francisco she has a cult following, but LA has it's own tomato, the Celebrity-- haha, which is also very good, but... And waiting to make my favorite French sandwich: Pan Bagna. Soaked in olive oil and pressed with a brick, it is typically layered with tuna and egg and olives and anchovies and peppers. It's practically a national dish; eaten all over the south of France.

But I like mine with Early Girl's and soft-boiled egg with olives, lemon and zataar. So, with just a few Girl's left I thought I had better share some of this summer romance with you. 

You're very welcome.

Early Girl Tomato Pan Bagna

~

soft boiled egg, olive, lemon and zataar 

here she is!

halve a roll, scratch with a garlic clove and drizzle with olive oil

lace with thin slices of lemon and pitted olives

zaatar ~ oregano, thyme, sumac, sesame

and sprinkle with zaatar

press the toppings into the bread

layer with sliced boiled egg and season with salt and pepper

sliced tomato, salt and pepper

glaze with more olive oil

weight with a heavy pan, brick, what have you

you can wrap in plastic and flatten in the fridge, too

Haha

after one hour, or more, remove weight

slice and eat

and, if you like, dip into zaatar while you eat

Let the Hunger Begin-- Lettuce and Peas Pasta

I assume we are all familiar with the hungry-angry motivational state, the one we blame for everything: "I was starving! I never eat Double-Double's!". Having pushed you to the point of no return with an oder of Animal Style Fries. But in my experience being hangry can be a good thing, forcing you down a path of creativity and reward; particularly when you are standing in your own kitchen. For me, it's always the same. The hunger is past due and the exclamations begin: there is nothing to eat, there is never anything to eat(!). Followed by the question: why in Hades is there nothing to eat??? With the answer: I am too hangry to care or even think about it... These are the moments when the nearby taco stand feels a million light years out of reach.

Thankfully, a light curse-session is enough to get me in an apron to cook myself something, anything. And wouldn't you know it, that is when the inspiration strikes. Mysteriously, my kitchen transforms into a Top Chef pantry. Open the cupboard and there wait a variety of dried pastas. Pull open the fridge and look beyond the half bottle of vino verde, and a hunk of cheese, and you see a farmers market stash of vegetables bored to death. Crack open the freezer, in the hopes of unearthing the piece de resistance, and a frozen-world of roasted pork ribs, duck fat, Callebaut chocolate bars, hazelnuts, thick-cut bacon, puff pastry, chicken stock, girl scout cookies and of course peas, are ready and waiting. There are no more excuses. Even when there are only frozen peas.

So, on my most recent kitchen adventure I was pretty hangry, and after a small curse-out I re-discovered a meal that would send Colombus into a jealous fit. A bag of frozen peas, a heart of romaine, a handful of frozen leeks from TJ's, an onion, a garlic clove, a brick of rich chicken stock, a pat of goat butter, a bay leaf, and some dried pasta, were my ingredients. Saute' the last sentence in a large skillet and shower with shaved parmigiano reggiano; and my hanger-pains were over.

Check it out:

'Hangry' Pasta

Lettuce and Peas pasta

a brick of chicken stock from the freezer...

frozen leeks, an onion, a clove of garlic with olive oil, and a hunk of chicken stock

the heart of a head of romaine and frozen peas

a perfect side dish for a roasted chicken??? yes!

with pasta and "parmesan"

"Have it your way" Black Bean Burgers

 Today was a blister, 90 degrees and humid. And as I headed to the market for a giant watermelon, to stuff myself with, I had to divert my car from every road that would take me to my favorite burger joint: The Apple Pan. You see, if I go to The Apple Pan I will get a burger. If I get a burger; I will get fries. If I get fries, I will most certainly get a slice of chocolate pie. Which is probably why I want to go there in the first place. unfortunately, Thursday at noon does not warrant such behavior. Not this week.

Thankfully, my diversion was a success, leading me to circle the infamous Whole Foods parking lot and giving me enough time to plan my lunch, make a mental shopping list, answer a phone call, text a friend, and even wave to someone I knew.  The parking lot is a virtual office. You can get stuff done!

So, I grabbed my shopping wheels, chose a giant watermelon and asked someone to load it into my cart, limited right hand, and cruised the meat department; still looking for burgers. And that's when I overheard someone talking about the mind blowing black bean burgers they made for dinner and how easy they were to make, and how healthy they were... SOLD. I grabbed a sandwich roll, an avocado, a tomato, and a can of black beans and headed home. 

Black Bean Burgers

Chock full of farmers market vegetables the burgers almost made me forget about The Apple Pan. They took all of ten minutes to cook and all of five minutes to enjoy.

I suggest adding anything you like: left over vegetables diced up, quinoa, brown rice, potato, whatever you have. I had fresh corn, red onion and carrots, all of which pair well with black beans, and I even threw in some kale. 

Dice one small onion, a carrot and a big hand-full of kale 

Saute in olive oil or butter, or both, and season with salt, pepper, a teaspoon of cumin, red pepper flakes

Add a scratch or two of garlic and one ear of fresh corn

put everything in a large bowl

mash and taste for seasoning

add one egg to combine all the ingredients

scoop a half cup of the black beans into a hot skillet and gently form a patty with the tines of a fork

cook over low heat

3 minutes on each side

toast the bun alongside the burger

crown with avocado and tomato and any dressing you like

Cuisinart To The Rescue! Onion Marmalade Tart

This afternoon I was in my kitchen digging into the back of my cupboard (with one hand) looking for never-before-used food processor attachments. I needed them. A dear friend unloaded an armful of heavy, sweet smelling onions on me and in accordance with my culinary oath I could not waste them: I would make onion marmalade. One-handed.

As you can imagine, the prospect of slicing so many onions with my left hand was pretty daunting, considering it would more than likely lead to blood loss, as opposed to marmalade. So, as the proverbial saying goes, "necessity is the mother of invention" (although, clearly, I'm just a late comer), I put down the knife and plugged in the food processor.

Typically, the food processor is a never ending whir of aioli, hummus, bread crumbs, almond paste, things like that, all with the basic blade. But I was trying something new and if the slicing blade worked well with the onions, that is, not bruise and tear them to shreds, imagine what other vegetables I could whizz up???

The blades were so new they were still in their safety wrappers.  I snapped the equipment in place, topped and tailed the onions, and whirred them into the work bowl at top speed. 4 pounds of onions took 4 minutes (!)

Not as uniform as hand-prepped onions, but who the hell cared, they were sliced well enough and it was done. Within minutes I was sweating onions in butter and red wine. And to makes matters better, the end result was great. It made a fine onion jam, which then became a play on a pissaladiere-- the beloved French onion tart from Nice. And to think it was all because of the Cuisinart...

And it is no surprise that every chef loves that deft appliance, as unromantic as it should be. It's been so good to us... The industrial strength version, known as the Robot Coupe, has a motor that won't quit and a work bowl that won't break, no matter how much abuse it gets. And thanks to Julia Child and James Beard, who introduced the machine, back in 1973, the kitchen is an easier place to be.


I have one suggestion, if you are venturing to acquire one, do yourself a favor and get the original Pro Custom model. It has the trusty  start and stop flaps that are easy to use. The 14 cup will do wonders for you-- pie dough, pasta dough... and if your mom still has hers and it works... take it.

Onion Confit "Marmalade"

Recipe from the Chez Panisse cookbook-- Vegetables

Attach the slicing disc to the food processor

Trim, halve, peel, then quarter,  4 large red or white onions

and push through the feed tube with the motor running

In a large skillet or pot, saute onions with 4 tablespoons of butter (I used goat butter for a distinctive flavor) on medium heat for 10 minutes

Until soft and slightly caramalized

Add a bayleaf, a sprig of thyme, a tablespoon of sugar, 2 cups of red wine, a 1/4 cup of red wine vinegar, a 1/4 cup of sherry vinegar, and season with salt and pepper 

Cook for 1 1/2 hours, stirring every 20 minutes

Onion Jam should be dark, rich and savory sweet

Enjoy on a cracker, crostini, toast, or in pasta dishes with dark greens, or in sandwiches and paninis

Or, spread on a tart shell of puff pastry or any dough you prefer (I had some puff dough from Du Four in my freezer)

For a play on a French classic, pissaladiere, top with nicoise olives and brush the sides with egg and cream-- egg wash

Bake at 400' for 30-35 minutes

And save some for me

Holy Bovina! Let's Talk About Steak-- Brazilian Style

This last spring I went to an awesome neighborhood party where Brazilians were grilling pork ribs over a low fire and they did something that at once seemed so obvious but that I had never done. After grilling the meaty side of a rack of salted and peppered ribs, they flipped them and shaved an even layer of  parmiggiano reggiano over the top and then covered the grill for another 20 minutes. The result was a tender, moist rib with a crisp, parmesan crust. The lightness, texture and flavor of the cheese took my breath away.

I know what you're thinking, who cares? Meats with parmesan crusts are so ubiquitous. But it was good. Damn good. And I swore I would try it myself someday. Soon...

So, tonight, as I was stirring my giant cowboy-pot of ranch beans for tomorrow's fourth of July throwdown, I was hungry hungry hungry and wanted to pan-roast myself a ribeye steak as a reward for all of my left-handed cooking. And I said to myself, why not give it a Brazilian? A parmiggiano reggiano crust.

And holy bovina... what a reunion.

The caramalized beef and the shavings of cows milk cheese had come together once again... and it was delicioso. Although, not as crisp and light as the parmesan crust on the pork ribs, oops, it was still damn good.

And to add to my felicidade, the generous lump of goat butter I slipped into the pan, just before finishing it in the oven, had created the perfect base for a warm dressing of goat butter beef fat and lemon for a handful of arugula and hearts of celery; both currently in season. A squeeze of lemon over the almost wilted greens, and who gives a fig about fireworks. As the Brazilians' say, it was paraiso!

Parmesan Crusted Rib Eye

Season the rib eye, both sides, generously with salt and pepper. Sear in a hot skillet with olive oil until dark and caramelized-- about 4 minutes. Turn the meat and add a lump of butter and roast in a 425' oven for 4-5 minutes for medium rare. Rest on a plate for 5-10 minutes near the heat of the stove.

Next, add a large handful of arugula or any green, to the already hot skillet. Squeeze a half lemon and and crack some pepper over top and toss in the warm beef fat and butter. 

And crisp the cheese under a broiler, for a more crisp crust. Something I should have done!