Where's The Beef...

You may or may not have noticed that we don't eat a lot of beef around here. Besides the ground beef that gets turned into spaghetti sauce and burritos, I'm just not sure what to do wit it. I recently discovered that I can turn flank steak into a mind-blowing stir-fry with snow peas, but other than that, it seems like most beef recipes go one of two directions: grilling it and serving it in unadulterated steak form, which is problematic as I don't own a grill, or baking an enormous roast fit for 8-10 people. Neither of those choices really fit my lifestyle, and I'm not a huge fan of stew either. Plus, beef is crazy expensive, which makes me reluctant to experiment with it.

Still, a few enticing beef recipes have found their way into my recipe queue, leaving me to bide my time until I could find some reasonably priced meat. Memorial Day, which is apparently the official kickoff to summer grilling season, brought with it a "Buy $20 worth of beef, get $5 back," promotion at my local grocery store, so I went on two separate days to stock up. With my freezer bursting at the seams with various cuts of meat, I decided this weekend that it was time to delve right in.

For starters, I chose a dish from Saveur that I've had my eye on for quite some time. As I've mentioned, a Saveur recipe that can be made without a trip to a specialty grocery store is rare thing indeed, and this one was particularly unusual in that I happened to have all the ingredients in my fridge and pantry, except for the beef and some fresh basil leaves, which I only purchase on an as-needed basis. With the beef on hand, throwing this meal together was a cinch, though it still took some time.

I enlisted Justin's help in pounding out the steaks to 3/16" inch thickness, as he has more experience in wielding a meat tenderizer than I do, after years of making schnitzel with his family. From there, all I had to do was sprinkle the beef with seasonings, cheese, and prosciutto, roll them up, and secure them with toothpicks, which was actually somewhat fun. The meat braised in a simple cooking liquid for over and hour, leaving the majority of the prep time for the recipe hands-off.

Justin really enjoyed this dinner, though I felt that it was a bit on the salty side. The recipe had called for seasoning the steaks with salt prior to rolling them up, but I feel like that was overkill in light of the Pecorino cheese that was also part of the stuffing. The sauce, however, was deeply flavored, in spite of its simplicity. 

Sadly, I had to inform Justin that I wasn't sure when he would get to experience this meal again, despite how much he enjoyed it. Not only is it rare for us to find affordable beef, but there are so many recipes in my experimentation queue that we repeat dishes very infrequently. Still, I could definitely see myself recreating this dish for a special occasion, or when I want to do something to make Justin particularly happy. It's always nice to have a pleasant surprise up your sleeve for the person you love, don't you think?

Stuffed Beef in Tomato Sauce

adapted from Saveur

4 4 oz. beef scallopine from top round, pounded to 3/16" thickness

5 cloves of garlic, minced

1/4 c. finely grated Pecorino Romano

4 thin slices prosciutto

7 fresh basil leaves

1/4 c. olive oil

1 onion, minced

1/4 c. tomato paste

1 1/2 c. beef broth

1 28 oz. can crushed tomatoes

1.Working with one piece of beef at a time, season beef with salt and pepper and rub with 1⁄2 tsp. garlic. Sprinkle with 1 tbsp. Pecorino; top with 1 piece of prosciutto and a basil leaf. Working from one short edge of beef, roll beef into a cylinder. Secure with toothpicks. Repeat to make 4 rolls; set aside.

2Heat oil in a large skillet over high heat. Add beef; cook, turning, until browned, about 6 minutes. Transfer to a plate. Reduce heat to medium; add onions and remaining garlic; cook until soft, 5–6 minutes. Add tomato paste; cook, stirring, for 3 minutes. Add 1/2 cup of beef broth; return pan to medium-high heat. Cook until broth has evaporated, about 1 minute. Add remaining broth and bring to a boil. Add beef and remaining basil; bring to a boil; reduce heat to low. Cover and simmer until beef is tender, about 1 hour 15 minutes. Transfer beef to 2 plates and remove toothpicks; cover with foil. Add tomatoes to skillet, bring to a boil, and season with salt and pepper. To serve, uncover beef and ladle tomato sauce over the top.

Turn The Page...

Every month, a stack of cooking magazines arrives in my mailbox. Ever since we moved and I had to get rid of years of backlogged magazines, I've tried to be better about going through them, looking up the interesting recipes online, pinning them to Pinterest for safekeeping, and tossing out the hard copies.Even so, there seem to be recipes that linger in my queue longer than others, and they mainly seem to originate from Saveur.

I'll admit, I was just as crushed as the rest of the foodie universe when I found out Gourmet was shutting down back in 2009, but it seems that Saveur has taken its place in the prestige food journalism world. Both magazines are notable for the artistry of their food photography, and the quality of their writing is top-notch. Saveur, however, has more of a travel-bent, and focuses on recipes derived from global cuisines. It's gorgeous to flip through and dream about vacations to exotic lands, but the recipes they include are often impractical for the home chef.

The average Saveur recipe demands a trip to the gourmet shop, at the very least, and possibly a trip to one or more ethnic grocery stores. I managed to circumvent this conundrum with last week's bucatini all'amatriciana by substituting bacon for pancetta, but even for someone who typically dedicates one day a week to an elaborate cooking project, it's just too much effort to source the ingredients to cook from Saveur on a regular basis.

I did, however, manage to spot another more reasonable recipe from Saveur, for Turkish tomato and lamb flat breads known as lahmacun, billed as being the Turkish answer to pizza. Since I had recently located reasonably-priced ground lamb at the unusual combination Latino/Eastern European grocery store not far from my house, I decided to give Saveur its due and give the recipe a try.

I've gotten to the point where I really enjoy experimenting with yeast doughs; not only do they impart a very comforting smell of baking bread to your house, it's almost magical to watch the dough rise and grow, almost like a living creature. Hence, this was a perfect Saturday afternoon project for me. I could see taking a shortcut and using pre-baked pita or naan as a base for the richly-spiced sauce of tomato, onion and lamb, if I wanted to have this meal on a weeknight, but I enjoyed putting in the effort.

Thanks to Saveur, I was able to recreate a little bit of Turkey in my kitchen practically on the other side of the world, in addition to producing a unique and tasty dinner for Justin and myself. They say the world is getting smaller all the time, and I'm lucky to live in a big city with access to ingredients from other cultures. Isn't the modern world amazing sometimes?

Lahmacun

adapted from Saveur

1 teaspoon sugar 

1 package active dry yeast

2 c. flour, plus more for dusting

1 1⁄2 teaspoon kosher salt, plus more for sprinkling

1⁄4 c. extra-virgin olive oil

3 tablespoon tomato paste

1 teaspoon dried parsley

1⁄4 teaspoon cayenne pepper

1⁄4 teaspoon ground cumin

1⁄4 teaspoon paprika

1⁄8 teaspoon ground cinnamon

3 oz. ground lamb

2 cloves garlic, minced

1 plum tomato, grated

1 small onion, grated

1⁄2 serrano chile, stemmed, seeded, and minced

1.Combine sugar, yeast, and 3⁄4 cup water heated to 115˚ in a small bowl; let sit until foamy, about 10 minutes. Combine flour and salt in a bowl and make a well in the center. Add yeast mixture and stir to form a dough. Transfer dough to a lightly floured surface; knead until smooth, about 6 minutes. Transfer dough to a lightly oiled bowl and cover with plastic wrap. Let dough rest until doubled in size, about 1 hour. Punch down dough, divide into 4 portions, and roll each portion into a ball. Transfer dough balls to a floured baking sheet. Cover with a damp tea towel and let rest for 45 minutes.

2. Meanwhile, make the topping: In a large bowl, combine oil, tomato paste, parsley, cayenne, cumin, paprika, and cinnamon and stir vigorously with a fork. Stir in lamb, garlic, tomatoes, onions, and chiles and season with salt; set topping aside. 

3. Put a pizza stone in bottom third of oven and heat oven to 475°. Working with one dough ball at a time, use a rolling pin to roll dough into a 10" disk. Brush off excess flour and transfer dough to a piece of parchment paper. Spoon 3–4 tbsp. topping onto dough and using your fingers, spread topping evenly to edges. Season with salt. Holding parchment paper by its edges, transfer to baking stone. Bake until dough is golden brown and topping is cooked, 6–8 minutes. Repeat with remaining dough and topping; serve warm or at room temperature.   


Keep It Simple, Stupid...

Ever since I've taken a greater interest in food, I've made more of an effort to seek out culinary experiences when I travel. In Istanbul, I took in the sights and smells of the spice bazaar, where heaping piles of brightly-colored spices compete for consumers' attention, and on my most recent trip to Italy, I made sure to check out the central markets in Florence and Ravenna. Foodie travel icon Anthony Bourdain says the best way to learn about a place is through its markets, and while I'm not sure I completely agree with that, it is a treat unto itself to see all the rare foods that are common in other countries but that don't get imported to the United States for whatever reason.

For example, in the upper right hand corner of this photo is burrata, a cheese that has recently become trendy in the U.S., but is almost always inferior to the Italian original. The cheese spoils so rapidly that it is wrapped in leaves on the day it is made. When the leaves begin to wilt, you know the cheese is no longer fresh.

In addition to visiting the markets, I felt a certain hyper-awareness of what I was eating when I was in Italy this time around. I enjoyed the food a great deal more than I did the first two times I was there, due to a combination of older, more diverse taste buds and greater knowledge about what I was eating. Also, I feel that I have much stronger memories of what I ate this time around. 

A simple plate of spaghetti all'amatriciana, for example, stands out in my mind as a study in culinary elegance. There weren't many ingredients, but everything in the recipe served an important purpose. Guanciale, or cured pork jowl, adds a funky, smokey flavor to the dish, balanced by the heat of red pepper flakes. Tomatoes provide acidity, and onions lend their sharp bite. Italians can be very rigid and resistant to interpretive license with their classic dishes, and it is easy to see why -- you shouldn't mess with perfection.

Since I don't have one of those expansive, European-style markets at my disposal, I had to make a few improvisations when I attempted to replicate that plate of pasta in my own kitchen. For one, guanciale only exists at expensive gourmet shops, so I substituted bacon, since I had some on hand. It wasn't quite the same, but it would do. I also substituted regular, cheap canned tomatoes for the imported San Marzano varietal favored by Italians. Sacrilege, I know, but the dish still turned out just fine. 

The dinner I ended up with, bucatini all'amatriciana, was easy and quick enough to be a regular weeknight meal around here. It will never supplant Sardinian sausage sauce as my favorite at-home Italian meal, but it's always good to have options, especially when they conjure up such happy memories...

Bucatini all'Amatriciana

adapted from Saveur

3 tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil

4 oz. pancetta or bacon , cut into strips

Freshly cracked black pepper, to taste

2 cloves garlic, minced

1 small carrot, minced

1⁄2 medium onion, minced

1⁄2 teaspoon. crushed red chile flakes

1  28-oz. can crushed tomatoes

1 lb. bucatini or spaghetti

1/2 c. grated Pecorino Romano cheese, plus more for serving

Heat oil in a large, high-sided skillet over medium heat. Add pancetta; cook, stirring, until lightly browned, 6–8 minutes. Add pepper; cook until fragrant, about 2 minutes more. Increase heat to medium-high; add garlic, carrots, and onions and cook, stirring occasionally, until soft, about 6 minutes. Add chile flakes; cook for 1 minute. Stir in tomatoes, reduce heat to medium-low, and simmer, stirring occasionally, until sauce thickens and flavors meld, 20–25 minutes. Season with salt; keep warm.

Bring a large pot ofsalted water to a boil. Add pasta and cook until just al dente, 6–8 minutes. Reserve 1⁄2 cup pasta water; drain pasta. Heat reserved sauce over medium heat. Add pasta and reserved water; cook, tossing, until sauce clings to pasta, 2–3 minutes. Add 1⁄2 cup Pecorino; toss. Divide between serving bowls; serve with additional Pecorino.

Soup for the Soul...

As we enter the last month of the year, I’ve been thinking about my New Year’s resolutions, and how well I ended up fulfilling them. In January, which simultaneously seems like a lifetime ago, and just yesterday, I resolved to try more new recipes for food other than desserts, and to carry on with my local church architecture project. Although I didn’t accomplish either task to quite the extent that I had planned, I made better progress on the first resolution than the second. 

I only made it to three Chicago churches this year, and I only had time to write about the first one (the other two posts will come eventually, they’re just languishing in blog purgatory until I have more time.) I made up an itinerary to see the majority of the ones remaining on my list in one day, but Dad wanted to go with me, and between his summer golf schedule and dedication to watching his beloved Fighting Illini play terrible football all fall, we couldn’t find a day to go. Now that the weather’s turned miserable, it’ll have to wait for next year.

I made slightly better progress on the recipe experimentation front. I’d originally wanted to try at least one new recipe a month, and I only ended up trying ten new recipes instead of twelve, but I had about a 50% success rate in terms of finding things that I’d want to make again, which isn’t so bad. I must say, that signing up for Pinterest has helped my cause considerably. Being able to see a photo of each recipe in my queue instead of just a long list of links, or worse, a closed binder full of clippings, is much more inspiring. After all, they do say that you eat with your eyes first.

Tonight I made another one of the recipes saved to my “Things I Want to Cook” board – lasagna soup. I’ve been crazy for soup ever since it started getting cold, which included attempting a new potato/cheddar soup a couple weeks ago that ended up not being blog-worthy, and the idea of capturing the flavors of lasagna in soup was appealing. I ended up making a few changes to the original recipe, so some of the lasagna-like elements of the dish were eliminated, but the vaguely Italian soup I ended up with was still delicious, and certainly worth making again.

The original recipe called for a ricotta cheese garnish, which I substituted out for small pieces of fresh mozzarella cheese, since I absolutely abhor ricotta. In future iterations, I would puree the fire-roasted tomatoes before adding them to the soup, because the flavor was worth using them instead of plain crushed tomatoes (my usual choice for cooking) but I don’t like the texture of large tomato chunks. I would also consider adding some spinach, in order to up the nutritional content of the meal, since I find soup is often a good way to trick myself into eating vegetables that I wouldn’t otherwise find palatable.

This hearty soup is perfect for a cold winter’s day, and it’s hearty enough to fuel you for a day of playing in the snow (or shoveling, as the case may be.) I was glad I took a chance on this new recipe, and you will be too.

Lasagna Soup

adapted from A Farmgirl's Dabbles

1 1/2 lbs. hot Italian sausage

1 1/2 onions, chopped

4 garlic cloves, minced

2 tsp. dried oregano

2 tablespoons tomato paste

28 oz. fire-roasted tomatoes, pureed 

2 bay leaves

6 c. chicken stock

Parmesan cheese rind

1/2 package frozen spinach, thawed and drained

8 oz. short pasta (I used ditalini)

1/2 c. fresh basil, chiffonaded

1/2 c. Parmesan cheese

8 oz. fresh mozzarella cheese pearls

Heat olive oil in a large pot over medium heat. Add sausage, breaking up into bite sized pieces, and brown for about 5 minutes. Add onions and cook until softened, about 6 minutes. Add garlic and oregano. Cook for 1 minute. Add tomato paste and stir well to incorporate. Cook for 3 to 4 minutes, or until the tomato paste turns a rusty brown color.

Add pureed tomatoes, bay leaves, chicken stock, Parmesan rind, and spinach. Stir to combine. Bring to a boil and then reduce heat and simmer for 30 minutes. Stir in 1/2 c. Parmesan cheese until melted. Add uncooked pasta and cook until al dente. Do not over cook or let soup simmer for a long period of time at this point, as the pasta will get mushy. Stir in basil and season to taste with salt and freshly ground black pepper.

To serve, ladle into bowls and top with bits of mozzarella cheese. Add additional Parmesan cheese on top, if desired.

A Hot Mess...

Sometimes I think I have some sort of kitchen-specific form of Obsessive Compulsive Disorder. I get the inspiration to try a new recipe, and I cannot purge the idea from my mind until I follow through. For the past couple weeks, it has been lasagna that has been dominating my food-related thoughts.

Considering how much I like Italian food (you can't fight genetics), lasagna is a relative newcomer to the pantheon of things I'm willing to eat. I only started eating it in earnest when I was in college, and that was solely because my roommate Katherine would make it for me from scratch when I was having a bad day, or she just wanted to do something nice for me. To this day, there is only one restaurant at which I will order lasagna -- La Scarola, on Chicago's Near West Side.

The problem? Ricotta cheese. I loathe ricotta cheese -- both its flavor and its texture. But ricotta is one of the quintessential components of lasagna; just about the only way to avoid it is to make it yourself. Katherine would leave the ricotta out of the lasagna she would make for me, substituting extra mozzarella instead, and that was the only way I was able to enjoy the layered delicacy. But, without Katherine as my roommate, my life has been sadly bereft of homemade, ricotta-free lasagna for the past three years.

I could only hold out so long before I was forced to learn the art of lasagna-making on my own. The idea had been percolating for a couple months before I finally garnered the motivation to take on a cooking project of such a scope. After viewing scores of lasagna recipes online, none had stood out as particularly compelling to me, so I decided to take an extra risk and improvise my own rendition. For a sauce, I looked to a tomato-saffron sauce that I've been a little obsessed with of late, having made it five times since I first tested the recipe last fall. I added spicy Italian sausage, fresh mozzarella cheese, grated pecorino and parmesan cheeses, and some no-boil lasagna noodles to round things out.


Given that it was my first attempt at lasagna, I think the dish turned out reasonably well, flavor-wise. My only complaint was that I should have purchased more cheese, because my end product was a little light on the mozzarella. However, during baking, I experienced a bit of a disaster, when I could smell the distinct aroma of burning food wafting from the kitchen. I ran to check on the oven, discovering that the lasagna was bubbling over the side of the dish, leaking melted cheese and tomato sauce all over the oven floor. I threw a cookie sheet under it to catch the remainder, but the damage was already done -- I had to run the oven on its self-cleaning cycle the next day. Trust me, the fumes released from a self-cleaning oven are in no way pleasant!

As an aside, if you are interested in adding a bit of luxury to your weeknight pasta dinner, I thought I would pass along the recipe for the tomato saffron sauce. Saffron might be the world's most expensive spice, but it goes a long way, and it definitely adds a certain je ne sais quoi to tomato sauce. Its earthy pungency is a perfect complement. Even better, if you skip the lasagna route, and just sauce some pasta and top with some grated parmesan cheese, you can have dinner on the table in under an hour. Take that Rachel Ray!

Tomato Saffron Sauce with Sausage
(adapted from SeriousEats)

1 small onion, minced
2 cloves fresh garlic, minced
1 lb. spicy Italian sausage, casings removed
1 28 oz. can crushed tomatoes
generous pinch of saffron
10 fresh basil leaves, cut into a chiffonade
1 lb. short pasta (I like campanelle for this dish)

1. Saute the onion in a few tablespoons of olive oil, until softened. Add the garlic and saute for one minute. Add the sausage and saffron to the pan and cook until meat is no longer pink.
2. Add tomatoes, half of the basil, and salt to taste. Simmer until slightly thickened and the flavors have had a chance to meld. Test for seasoning, and add more salt if necessary.
3. Add the pasta to boiling water, and cook according to package directions while the sauce simmers.
4. Combine the cooked pasta with sauce and remaining basil. Serve with grated parmesan cheese.