Pretty Dishes

I’ve been on a soup kick these past couple of months, as one is wont to do in the wintertime. I’m a huge soup lover regardless of season, but certainly there’s even greater pleasure in a big steaming bowl once the weather turns chilly and wet (for most of us, anyway). I have compiled quite a collection of recipes and cookbooks over the years, and soups comprise no small portion. I probably make homemade soup an average of three or four times each month, especially this time of year. As such, I have a backlog of recipes and photos to share here.

By and large, my favorite soups fall within the chowder category. Broth-based soups and stews have their place, but I almost always prefer a creamier base. I like for my soup to have a smooth, thick consistency, and all the better when it also contains little bits of vegetable, potato, and/or meat to bite into. Even when it’s just a puree, I find that chopped green onions sprinkled over the top provide just enough crunch to make things interesting.

I sought out this recipe from Bon Appétit when I was in the mood for a corn chowder. This one in particular appealed because it comes together quickly and is all about the corn, with a few flavorful additions.

I served the soup with baked king crabmeat—basted with a garlic-lemon-butter sauce—which proved to be an excellent companion and made for a very rich and filling meal. I topped the soup with a few pieces, and we ate the rest of the crabmeat dipped in the basting sauce. Incredible.

Creamy Corn Soup

2 tablespoons (1/4 stick) butter
1 large red bell pepper, chopped
1 medium onion, chopped
3 garlic cloves, minced
One 14.5-ounce can diced tomatoes in juice
2 cups (or more) water
2 tablespoons chopped canned chipotle chilies
Two 14.75-ounce cans cream-style corn
One 16-ounce package frozen corn
1 cup whipping cream
1 teaspoon dried oregano
Chopped fresh cilantro or green onions

Melt the butter in a heavy large pot over medium-high heat. Add the bell pepper, onion, and garlic; sauté until the onion is tender, about 5 minutes. Add the tomatoes with juices to the pot and cook for 2 minutes. Combine the water and chipotle chilies in a blender and puree. Mix the puree and cream-style corn into the pot. Bring the soup to boil, then reduce the heat to medium and simmer for 15 minutes, stirring occasionally. Add the frozen corn, cream, and oregano; simmer for 5 minutes. Garnish with cilantro or green onions.

This recipe comes from an excellent cookbook I worked on called Good Fish: Sustainable Seafood Recipes from the Pacific Coast. (If you need solid, simple seafood recipes featuring West Coast fish sources you don’t have to worry about depleting, this is your source.)

Becky Selengut uses these quick-pickled green beans to accompany her pan-fried trout. I was drawn to the recipe while seeking out an accompaniment to some Bloody Marys for a weekend brunch. Dilly Beans seemed like a great choice.

They are not only perfect for Bloody Marys, they are perfect for snacking on, too. When I made them, I largely stayed true to the original recipe, with one major difference: I did not have any coriander seed on hand, so I made mine without. This ultimately affected the flavor, so I would be sure to add them in next time, though I did try to compensate by adding a few crushed garlic cloves. (Next time I would include both.)

I used the bagged haricots vert sold at Costco because they are delicate and beautifully uniform. I highly recommend a thinner, younger, more tender bean since the recipe doesn’t call for blanching, though I personally may do so for 30 seconds to 1 minute next time since even after a day or two of soaking, the beans were just the teensiest, tiniest bit too fibrous for my taste. The beans don’t stay hot enough long enough to truly cook, so be sure to taste a raw one and confirm that you’re okay with just a slightly more wilted version of it as your finished result before proceeding with the recipe.

It is easy enough to halve, double, or otherwise adjust the yield of this recipe based on your needs. I made a full recipe and put my beans in two large sterilized canning jars (but did not process them for long-term storage). We really only made it through one full jar using them in multiple Bloody Marys, so we raced to snack on the remainder as the two-week expiration approached. Next time I would only make half a batch for that purpose, however, if using them as intended (to accompany a meal) or for setting out at a party with other appetizers, a full recipe is just about right.

Dilly Beans

1/2 pound green beans, trimmed
1 cup white vinegar or apple cider vinegar [I would cut by a few tablespoons]
1 cup water
[6 to 8 garlic cloves]
1 bay leaf
1 tablespoon sugar
1 tablespoon salt
1/2 teaspoon whole coriander seeds
1/2 teaspoon whole black peppercorns

Place the green beans in a shallow heatproof container [or into sterilized canning jars].

In a medium saucepan, combine the vinegar, water, [garlic], bay leaf, sugar, salt, coriander seeds, and peppercorns, and bring to a boil. Reduce the heat and simmer for 5 minutes. Pour the hot vinegar mixture over the green beans, making sure the beans are fully submerged.

After the mixture has cooled, cover the container and refrigerate for at least 24 hours (the flavor improves after 48 hours). Dilly beans will keep in the refrigerator for about 10 days.

It’s likely that you have had a bad experience being served or preparing bitter or overcooked greens, as many people have. It’s unfortunate that one mushy mouthful as a child (or even as an adult) can render some vegetables unpalatable for life.

Spinach is usually a candidate for a swift move into the “delicious” category since its uses are so versatile and its appearance in dishes hard to escape. Anyone who was forced to eat canned or boxed spinach as a child might initially forgo spinach as an adult, but a bite of a refreshing salad or hearty soup or lightly wilted side is usually all it takes to win them over.

Mustard greens, kale, and chard are a step lower than spinach in the world of greens since they are somewhat mysterious; they are large, dark, leafy, and known for bitterness and are therefore frequently avoided on principle. They aren’t very pleasant eaten raw as they can be somewhat tough and strong, so they required some blanching or sautéing (often with a fatty companion such as pork or cream) to make them more enjoyable. I wasn’t even familiar with these greens until I was an adult shopping at farmers markets and found them in abundance. They are quite popular at restaurants featuring local, seasonal cuisine. Still, it took me a while to work up the courage to prepare any on my own, and chard was the first (and still a favorite) for its mildness.

But the really unpopular one, the one that consistently tops “most hated vegetable” lists and causes countless diners to crinkle their noses in disgust, is the dreaded brussels sprout. All it takes is one awful, sour bite or a sulfurous waft from the stove top for eaters of all ages to turn away from brussels sprouts forever. Sometimes it doesn’t even take that—their reputation is so formidable that many have never even tasted them.

I was in the latter category. I can’t remember a single instance of eating brussels sprouts growing up (probably because my parents harbored a hatred for them), but that didn’t stop me from avoiding them at all costs. They get such a bad rap, how can you not?

I don’t recall my first experience trying brussels sprouts as an adult (it must not have been too traumatizing), but at some point they accompanied a meal I ordered in a restaurant. They were expertly prepared—halved and lightly sautéed until just crisp and caramelized on the edges. I didn’t realize how amazing they could be!

Frequently the root of the problem is boiling. Do not boil brussels sprouts. I repeat, do not boil brussels sprouts. They can be prepared that way and still be edible if they are not overcooked, but you are doing yourself and your guests a disservice. (Not to mention that boiling leaches most of their beneficial nutrients, so you aren’t really getting much out of them.)

Buy them fresh. Buy the smaller ones, and be sure they are firm and tightly closed with few blemishes. Steam them if you must, but I truly feel that until you have tried sautéed or roasted brussels sprouts, you have not eaten brussels sprouts at all. Their full potential is realized with a little olive oil or butter and browned edges. They become mild and slightly sweet. A splash of lemon juice or vinegar really rounds them out. They are absolutely delicious.

I realize you may not take my word for it, but please, do yourself a favor and try the recipe below. It’s fast, simple, and inexpensive. Pair it with a favorite juicy roasted meat. If you still hate brussels sprouts, fine—at least you can say you gave them a fair chance. If you don’t try, though, you will never know what you’ve been missing.

Brussels Sprout Hash with Caramelized Shallots

There is nothing more important when making this than tasting as it cooks. You want the brussels sprouts to be bright green and just a bit crisp, not yellowing and wilted. Always err on the side of undercooking them—you can put them back on the burner for a little while just before serving if they aren’t perfect yet.

6 tablespoons (3/4 stick) butter, divided
1/2 pound shallots, thinly sliced
Coarse kosher salt
White pepper
2 tablespoons apple cider vinegar
4 teaspoons sugar
1 1/2 pounds brussels sprouts, stalk ends trimmed
3 tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil
1/2 cup water or vegetable broth
Squeeze of lemon juice

Melt 3 tablespoons of the butter in a medium skillet over medium heat. Add the shallots; sprinkle with salt and pepper. Sauté until soft and golden, about 8 minutes. Add the vinegar and sugar. Stir until brown and glazed, about 3 minutes.

Meanwhile, halve the brussels sprouts lengthwise. Cut them lengthwise into thin slices. Heat the oil in a large skillet over medium-high heat. Add the sprouts; sprinkle with salt and pepper. Sauté until just browned on the edges, about 5 minutes. Add the water and remaining butter. Sauté until most of water evaporates and sprouts are tender but still bright green, about 3 minutes. Stir in the shallots, season with salt and pepper to taste, and sprinkle with lemon juice before serving.

And just for good measure, here is a nice kale recipe I made recently.

Mustardy Kale with Bacon

1 1/2 pounds kale, stems and center ribs discarded, cut into thin slices
3 bacon slices, chopped
1/2 bunch scallions, chopped
2 tablespoons grainy mustard

Cook the kale in a large pot of boiling salted water until just tender, 7 to 10 minutes, and then drain.

Cook the bacon in a heavy saucepan over medium heat until crisp, about 6 minutes. Transfer with a slotted spoon to a paper towel to drain. Discard all but 1 1/2 tablespoons of fat from the pan, then cook the scallions until soft, about 2 minutes. Stir in the kale and mustard, and cook over medium-low heat, covered, stirring occasionally, until very tender, about 5 minutes. Serve topped with the bacon.

A couple of months back I noted my purchase of Peter Reinhart’s Artisan Breads Every Day and my desire to make perfect pain au chocolat. At the time I had no idea how possible this actually was. It was exciting to discover that, despite not being a particularly practiced baker, I can make a pretty decent croissant.

I have made pain au chocolat twice now, and since only practice makes perfect, I have learned a few things each time that will improve my results in the future. But the fact that I really did end up with something resembling (both in appearance/texture and flavor) a croissant after the first attempt was quite a revelation. I was positively giddy—I may have even squealed.

Now, let me be clear: making croissants is no easy task. I am certain that the reason I had great results was because I followed the ingredients (including weighing every single one to the exact gram) and instructions (if it said stir for 1 minute, you bet I had a timer sitting there) to a T. I read and reread the full recipe at least four times before I started, and then I reread parts of it again and again before attempting each new process. It was an obsessive endeavor that required my full attention and an entire day of work. Croissants are not something you can make impulsively, but if you plan ahead, they are well worth the effort, if for no other reason than to brag about being able to make them.

It would be silly and unfair of me to copy Mr. Reinhart’s carefully detailed ten-page recipe here, so I’ll just talk through the basic steps that accompany my photos. (Which is plenty long as it is!) Even if you don’t care about making croissants, you really should buy the cookbook; it contains a fantastic selection of breads, and the author provides such helpful tips and instructions that it’s hard to fail. There are also numerous process shots to illustrate the trickier steps.

All right, here we go. The first step is preparing the initial dough (called the détrempe), which is rather moist and shaggy. This hardly takes any time at all (maybe 15 minutes total), but everything that follows is pretty intensive. The détrempe has to sit in the refrigerator overnight (there is no hour minimum provided, but I assume 8 to 10 hours is required) and for up to 48 hours. Next time, I’d like to let it sit for two nights and see if the flavor deepens or the dough quality changes, but I’ve only left it overnight so far.

The next day, you’re in deep and shouldn’t make any plans to leave home for several hours (you do get a few breaks while the dough is proofing, but not very long ones). The process starts with forming the butter block that will be incorporated into the détrempe.

You roll out the dough into a rectangle that will exactly fold over the butter block, then you roll it out again to incorporate the butter. This second rectangle is folded into thirds and left to rest for 20 minutes. This process is repeated twice more before the dough is rolled into a much larger rectangle and then cut into strips. Rolling the many rectangles is my least favorite part of the process since it requires incredible patience due to the fragility of the dough as well as its refusal to be perfectly squared off.

While the dough was resting, I made the chocolate batons for the filling. The recipe in the book makes about double what is necessary for the yield of 8 to 10 croissants, so I actually saved the leftover batons and used them the second time. I stored them in a durable Ziploc bag in the pantry, and they tasted fine even after two weeks.

After cutting the dough into strips, you load them with the chocolate and roll them up.

At this point, you have two options. You can let the croissants sit at room temperature for around 3 hours, or they can be refrigerated or frozen for later baking. With my first batch, I baked half of them immediately after proofing and put the rest aside in the refrigerator until I had tasted the finished ones. I baked the second half later that evening. With my second batch, I immediately put the rolled croissants in the freezer overnight, then removed them the next morning to proof at room temperature before baking. I didn’t like how these frozen ones baked up quite as well, probably because I don’t have the ability to flash-freeze them. Therefore, I would advise proofing the dough at room temperature (or move to the refrigerator) to bake them the same day.

The good news is that once they are baked, the croissants store well in a large Pyrex dish with lid for at least two or three days. If they go into plastic bags they start to get moist, soggy, and stale, so be sure to keep them dry and stored in a cool place for only a few days tops.

The baking isn’t a hands-off ordeal either. For the first half of the first batch, I followed the book instructions exactly: I proofed the croissants at room temperature; preheated the oven to 450 degrees F 20 minutes before baking; reduced the temperature to 375 degrees F immediately upon putting in the baking sheet; baked the croissants for 15 minutes; turned the pan around; and then finished baking at 375 degrees for 7 minutes before reducing the oven temperature again to 325 degrees F for the final 8 minutes or so (because the croissants were browning too quickly).

For the second half of the first batch, I let myself experiment a bit: After proofing at room temperature, I refrigerated the croissants for about 2 hours then removed them from the fridge 20 minutes before baking. I used my oven’s automatic convection conversion settings based on the traditional oven temperatures. Therefore, I preheated for 20 minutes at 400 degrees F (convection) before reducing the heat to 325 degrees F (convection) immediately upon putting in the baking sheet. I baked the croissants for 15 minutes before turning the pan and continuing to bake at 325 degrees F (convection) for the final 18 minutes (they weren’t quite ready after 15 minutes).

The first half of the croissants were more browned overall, especially on top. They didn’t taste burnt by any means, but they were too crispy and overdone for my preference. The second half were more of a light golden brown and had more even coloring. I much preferred them to the first half.

As mentioned above, for my second attempt, I froze the croissants on a baking sheet before proofing them at room temperature for 3 hours the morning of baking. I failed to recall my excellent convection success from the first round (word to the wise: keep all your notes with the recipe to be easily located . . . ), so I baked them much like I did the first half of the first batch, though I watched the croissants closely and kept them from getting too crispy on top. Unfortunately, I felt like the layers weren’t quite as distinct and flaky after freezing, though otherwise the croissants were great. (None of my guests noticed any problem.)

After baking, the croissants have to cool for 1 hour before they can be eaten or stored. They can be left plain or dusted with powdered sugar. If you’re storing them, I recommend waiting to dust them until serving. They are also huge and nearly impossible to eat whole, so be sure to cut them in half before diving in. Sadly, I failed to snap a photo of a halved croissant displaying all the lovely layers inside.

So, there you have it, the miracle of croissants has been demystified. My apologies that this post takes almost as much time to read as it does to just get out there and make pain au chocolat yourself!