warm winter salad

I love vegetables. I'm an equal opportunity employer of them in my cooking, but if pressed I would probably say that winter vegetables are my favorite. Yeah, they typically require some coaxing from the oven or saute pan. But just because they don't have the natural grace of those easy summer vegetables ('oh, i'm such a gorgeous raw tomato, just slice me and eat me, oh') doesn't mean they're not twice as delicious when properly attended to.

Here's a delicious and healthy winter lunch. Time all the ingredients right, and you will have a plate of earthy lentils, laced with the sweet notes of caramelized onions and the savory crunch of roasted cauliflower, mixed with slightly wilted lemony arugula. Doesn't get much better. So there, tomato salad.


warm winter salad

1 c dried red lentils
3 c water
bay leaf
thyme sprigs
1 med onion, halved then sliced thinly
1 small cauliflower, chopped
tbsp sherry vinegar
10 oz arugula

Preheat oven to 400. Toss cauliflower with olive oil, salt and pepper. Roast until brown.
Meanwhile, heat some olive oil or butter in a pan over medium heat. Add onion and cook, stirring occasionally, until caramelized, about 20 minutes.
Meanwhile, bring water to a boil with bay leaf, thyme, salt and pepper. Add lentils, and simmer, stirring occasionally, until tender, about 10 minutes. Drain, then toss with sherry vinegar.
Right before serving, toss arugula with a squirt of lemon juice and some olive oil. Mix together lentils, onions, and cauliflower and serve warm.

makes four salads.

gruyere-walnut crisps

Sunday is special. There's that whole going to church day-of-rest thing, but not everyone is into that. However, I've not yet met anyone who has not been into these crackers. With their sharp cheese taste and the added crunch of walnuts, they're kind of like Cheez-Its for adults. They are best presented around five o'clock on a Sunday afternoon, when the sun has turned extra-golden and the hint of a hunger pang is starting to insinuate itself. And Sunday adult snacktime is best completed with this and some gin.

gruyere-walnut crisps

3/4 cup (1 1/2 sticks) unsalted butter, room temperature
12 ounces finely grated Gruyere cheese
1 tsp salt
2 cups plus 2 tblsp all purpose flour
1 cup chopped toasted walnuts

Using electric mixer, beat butter in medium bowl until smooth. Beat in cheese and salt. Add flour and walnuts; beat just until dough comes together, adding water by teaspoonfuls if dry. Divide in half. Roll each half into 14-inch log. Wrap in plastic and chill until firm, at least 4 hours. At this point, dough can be refrigerated for up to 2 days.

Preheat oven to 375F. Line 2 baking sheets with parchment paper. Cut logs crosswise into 1/4 inch thick slices. Arrange on prepared sheets, spacing 1/2 inch apart.

Bake crisps until deep golden brown, about 20 minutes. Transfer to racks and cool completely.

Variation: For attractive presentation, before slicing the dough, brush the logs with lightly beaten egg white then roll in poppy seeds, sesame seeds, or caraway seeds. Slice; bake as directed.
From Bon Appetit.

adios, el bullí

Two more dining seasons before El Bullí closes its doors.
Not forever, mind you, but for two years at the least. And there is no guarantee that anything will ever be the same when Ferran Adriá reopens his restaurant. His cryptic remark? “In 2014, we will serve food somehow. I don’t know if it will be for one guest or 1,000.”
For those who don't know, El Bullí has been the world's number one restaurant for four years. The molecular gastronomy there would be unrecognizable as edible substance to the majority of the world's population. Adriá spends half of each year innovating, and opens his restaurant for the second half to display his new creations.
This is a big deal, people, with one Spanish journalist going as far as to say, "Yesterday's announcement could be considered as the day gastronomy entered the 21st century."
I don't know about you, but I just got on the waiting list for reservations.

Read the interview translated from the Spanish here.

calas classiques

Once a common street food in New Orleans, calas have fallen off the radar, overshadowed by their omnipresent cousin, the beignet. After my trip to the Southern Food and Beverage Museum, and subsequent pumpkin calas spotting on the Cochon menu, I was fascinated by this long-forgotten fritter. An 1903 cookbook reads (according to my rudimentary French) '"Bel Calas, good-n-hot!" So goes the cry of the Negresse who sells them on the street in a wooden bowl that she carries on her head, covered with a clean napkin. Calas are eaten with coffee from the market in the morning...they're delicious!'
And I'm here to report that they are, indeed, delicious. They're a brilliant way to use old cooked rice, and the dough keeps in the fridge for several days. They are basically like the child a beignet and a bowl of rice pudding would produce if biology made such things possible. I can't wait to make them again....maybe next time with some cheese and andouille!

calas classiques

2 c cooked rice
1 egg
1.5 tsp yeast
1/2 c water, warm
1/8 c sugar
2/3 c flour

Mix all ingredients, allow to rest for a couple hours or overnight. Fry balls of dough (it's very wet) in hot oil. Sprinkle with confectioner's sugar if desired.

Prune, cherry, and apricot frangipane tart

This incredible dessert is not only the most delicious, showstopping dessert I've ever had--it also answers a couple of burning questions:
1)why grappa should always be kept on hand
2)why Gourmet should still be a magazine
3)why holidays and special occasions even exist
4)why I should never be left alone in the same room with dessert

one hundred year old gumbo

There's nothing like the combination of food, New Orleans, and other people's obsessions to inspire you. It was on a visit here that I encountered a little gem masquerading as a worn, blue hardback entitled Cooking in Old Creole Days. Published in 1903 by Celestine Eustis, it offered an incredible look into the methodology of Creole cooking and the attitude towards culinary arts in the previous centuries. Despite, or maybe in part due to, a remarkable overtly racist prologue ("as a race, we are certainly not gifted with culinary talent") by S. Weir Mitchell, the book is fascinating from start to finish.
I jotted down a recipe for the most basic dish in the Creole repertoire: okra gumbo. I wanted to see how the traditional elaboration compared to what comes out of my pseudo-New-Orleanian family kitchen. So I followed the "receipt" to the best of my abilities-the ambiguity of it I actually found to result in a fun cooking challenge, allowing me to fill in the gaps with my own knowledge and whims.
And...most importantly...the gumbo was delicious! Chip proclaimed it amazing, and I thought it tasted quite good as well. A fairly easy meal. I do have to say I like my dad's darker, more Cajun gumbo better, but that could just be due to another tradition that dates back hundreds of years: a strong loyalty to your own flesh and blood's roux.



okra gumbo

Put into a saucepan a spoonful of pure lard* and one of flour. Stir it well until it is of a light brown. Chop an onion into small pieces and throw them in. Cut up a fat capon or chicken into small pieces and put it into the saucepan with the flour and lard. Stir it all the while until the chicken is nearly done. When the whole is well browned, add a slice of ham* cut up small. Throw in two or three pods of red pepper*, and salt to your taste. Then add a quart of boiling water, and leave it on the fire for two hours and a half.

During that time you take either a can of okra or the fresh okra, and chop it up a bit. Put it in a saucepan with a little water and let it simmer a quarter of an hour, stirring it all the time. Then add to it either six fresh tomatoes or half a can of tomatoes, and let it cook on a slow fire for an hour, uncovered.

When your gumbo has been on the fire the two hours and a half, you take it off to cool, and skim all the grease off. Then you put it back in the saucepan and add your okra and tomatoes and let it simmer slowly for an hour or until the okra is thoroughly cooked. Serve hot, and eat it with dry rice served in a separate dish.
-Mme. Eustis, Mére.

*for the lard, I used butter. for ham, I used andouille. for the red pepper, I used chile de arbol.

the buckley thanksgiving menu

Roasted Cauliflower and Radicchio Salad

Roast Turkey with Innards Stuffing
Prime Rib
Creamed Corn with Scallions
Potatoes a la Grandma

Cranberry and Vanilla Bean Sorbet
Prune, Almond and Cherry Frangipane Tart