Dinner on the Fly: Duck Confit Carbonara with Braised Greens and Garlic Scapes

I fantasize about a butcher.  Not just the man but the place. No styrofoam, no plastic, just smooth brown paper that creases clean in the corners, folded on a steel countertop.  The man behind the counter would wear a white apron with red stains and an amiable greeting like your friendly neighborhood serial killer.  At some point we would know each other by name.

I realize that as a New Yorker I have no right to complain about not having access to anything.  It is true that I can get pretty much any exotic ingredient that is worthy of a trip outside my five mile radius (that travel time being equivalent to thirty miles outside the NYC area).  But we can eat just about anything from from grizzly bear to emu to any number of reptiles.  Does anyone ever wonder how we narrowed our choices down to just three; beef, chicken and pork?  In my utopian fantasy, there would be world peace and a neighborhood butcher that sold not just pork, beef and chicken but rabbit, duck, ostrich, bison and something I could try on a dare.  

We don't eat meat everyday anyway, so our specialty meats are really a treat.  Usually the result of a special outing. Duck, although not high on the list of exoticism, is a rare and coveted dinner at our house.   Especially for a week night.

Duck Confit

This is something you make ahead and use sparingly as it is very rich.  It is remarkably easy to for such a fancy sounding name. 

• 2 duck legs
• 2 garlic cloves
• extra duck fat to cover the duck legs
• tiny sprig of rosemary (optional) 

You need a oven proof dish that is just big enough to fit your duck legs.  Do not preheat our oven.  Place one garlic clove and rosemary sprig under each duck leg.  Cover almost entirely with extra duck fat.  About one cup to 2 legs.  Put your duck in the oven and turn it on to 250 degrees.  You want the duck in the oven while it is pre-heating.  This is super slow cooking on very low heat.  Leave for 2 to 2 1/2 hours.

Duck Confit Carbonara with Braised Greens and Garlic Scapes

• 2 tablespoons duck fat from the duck conft
• 1 bunch of braising greens such as mustard greens, spinach, kale or chard, chopped
• 5 garlic scapes
• 2 eggs
• 1/4 cup grated grana padana
• 1 lb of spaghetti
• Duck meat from confit for serving
• sea salt
• freshly ground black pepper

Salt your water and boil your pasta. Beat your eggs and cheese together Melt your duck fat in a skillet or large sautee pan.  Add your greens and garlic scapes.  If they get a little dry as they are cooking add a little of the pasta water.  When pasta is done add it to your greens if the pan is big enough.  If it isn't you can do the reverse.  Add your egg mixture and toss for a few minutes.  The egg will cook and thicken with the heat of the pasta but not separate. Add salt and pepper to taste.  Serve with duck meat on top.

Finding Eggs and Shelling Beans

I was eight and my brother was four when we were introduced to our grandparents.  It was the first summer of many we spent in the mountainous region of Southern Lazio, Italy where our father is from.  It was a long, stuffy journey for us but the air got progressively cleaner and thinner as we got closer to our destination.  By the last fifteen minutes of the journey, we were riding in a car circling higher and higher up mountains.  Birds were our traveling companions.  My father became more animated as what looked like a birthmark on the mountain grew to be recognized as a cluster of stone residences that was his town.  A far cry from Yonkers.

My father had told me that my grandparents kept chickens, picked fruit off of trees and harvested olives with the help of their neighbors from their own olive groves.  My fourth grade textbook education translated that to 'They live on a farm.'  Rural to the average American eight year old is a ranch style house and rolling acres of land around it, like in a picture book called "Where Does Our Milk Come From?". When we pulled up to the large wooden doors of a stone facade that seemed to be attached to every other stone facade in the town, I thought we could not possibly be in the right place.

"Why are we stopping here?  When do we get to Nonna and Nonno's house?"
My father laughed in a way that was both amused and excited, and exclaimed, "We are here!"

Here we were.  In the midst of a reunion, my brother and I are presented with pride to our grandparents.  There were big exclamations, gesticulations, tears, smiles and checks pinched purple.  My grandmother had a cloud of snow white hair, a fixed demure smile with chin tilted inward, and broad palms that cupped our faces in a basket embrace.  If the barrior of her dialect had not existed, one would still have to lean in close to hear the soft, high pitch bell of her voice.  My grandfather was short and stout with a chest that puffed out like a pigeon.  His shoulders were broad as was his upward, tilted smile.  In contrast, one would never have to lean in to hear him.

Fascinated and timid, I was determined to be on my best behavior.  Yet, I felt idle and mute in this new place were I struggled to understand and be understood.  I shadowed my new grandmother around her home.  I found her at the sink in the mornings. "Cosa vuoi mangiare? L'uova?" What would you like to eat? Eggs?  She asked me to retrieve them.  There were no eggs in the refridgerater.  My father is chuckling in the doorway.  "The eggs are outside in the yard."  Down the marble stairs and out the back door is a small yard with a chicken coup to the right.  I stepped inside to loud squawking and feathers flapping around my feet. I walked gingerly through my egg hunt.  I held up a smooth, brown globe.  Triumphant and beaming I ran back to the kitchen.

In the afternoon, we sat on folding chairs with a bucket of bean pods between us.  She taught me to split the pods with my thumb to reveal the beans inside.  They were glossy white speckled with purple patches like artisan beads. Her rounded hands worked nimbly leaving a pile of empty pods in her apron while my small fingers worked clumsily, barely making a dent in her afternoons work.

Without words but with shared activity I got to know my grandmother, her lifestyle and routine.  The routine that made her matriarch and care taker of all those who entered her home, friends, family and neighbors.  During that first summer away from the familiarities of suburban New York, I never asked for a peanut butter and jelly sandwich or an oreo cookie.

No recipe today.  Just a  photo that triggered a memory to remind me why I cooked today and will cook again tomorrow.

The Classics: Baked Beans

Another summer barbecue, classic side dish.  This side is so easy that I can not believe I have ever eaten it out of a can.  ( I also can't believe I just admitted that to you.)  This past grilling endeavor on my husband's part was a great opportunity to for me to make baked beans as a side in place of the potato salad.  This is such a staple of American casual cuisine in my mind.  However, during a brief time I spent as a traveler with a work visa in England, I had it as an integral part of their traditional "English Breakfast." Cheerfully referred to as "beans on toast", this meant a can of Heinz baked beans, warmed and dumped over white, sliced bread toast.  I was a little disappointed when it was first served to me but then it fit my young traveler's budget and morning appetite.  It was equivalent to an "egg-on-a roll" that you can get at any New York bodega for $1.99.

A far cry from Heinz baked beans in a can, I am very happy with the way this recipe turned out.  It has that traditional sweetness along with a little added spice.

Baked Beans

• One 16 oz bag of dry white kidney beans
• 1 large onion, chopped
• 1/4 pound of slab bacon (go to a butcher, please), diced in small cubes
• 1/4 cup molasses
• 1/4 of a cup light brown sugar
• 2 tablespoons apple cider vinegar
• 2 tablespoons ground dry mustard
• 1 bay leaf 
• 2 to 3 tablespoons of tomato paste
• dash of chipotle powder (optional but it adds to the smokey flavor with just a touch of heat)
• salt and pepper to taste

I start my beans in the slow cooker on high for about 30 to 45 minutes with enough water to cover them with an inch of water above the beans.  If you don't have a slow cooker you can put them in a large pot with the same amount of water to simmer.  In a large dutch oven or cast iron pot, cook your bacon and onion until your onion is translucent and your bacon is starting to brown.  Drain your beans and add them to the pot. Toss so that they are coated with bacon fat.  Add all other ingredients and toss.  Cover with water and bring to a boil.  Then simmer until the beans are tender, about 2 1/2 hours.

Just for inspiration, I have to show you our complete meal.

On the left is a spicy, no-mayo slaw with red cabbage and carrots, and below is Nick' slow cooked, barbecue brisket.

If Nick ever decides to share this recipe it could be a future blog post.

The Classics: Potato Salad (Greenpoint Style)

At our house, the first warm day that my husband takes out his grill is potato salad season.  I love a good potato salad particularly because it is such an easy side for a casual get together.  One labor day I brought it to a luncheon at a friend's family beach house in the Rockaways.  Her grandmother was so full of compliments I felt like a Domestic Potato Salad Goddess for the day.  Really, I think I just got lucky.  Two uninspiring batches of potato salad later and my domestic goddess status was demoted.

The ingredients in my potato salad are like commas in my writing attempts.  I just, don't know, when, I have too many, where, to put them in, or when, to leave them out.  Like all cooking, art and life (it alway comes to that), the priority has to be balance, then all the ingredients fall into place.  The formula: potatoes, one or two crunchy vegetables, one or two flavor boosters like onion, hot pepper, or capers, a choice of meat, egg or fish, an herb or spice, and a dressing to serve as a binder, most commonly mayonaise or oil paired with an acidic flavor.  More than that and I have not been successful.  The flavors just don't shine through.

So if I haven't mentioned this before, Nick and I live in Greenpoint, Brookyn.  This is a well established Polish community with distinctly Polish flavors up and down (and in between) our main drag.  This suits me and my Polish-American husband just fine, especially when we are craving some comfort food in form of a smokey fish or meat.  The morning of this potato salad, a neighbor brought us a beautiful, rich coral orange steak of smoked salmon from Acme Smoked Fish.  Sadly. I have never been able to go myself as they are only open for public retail on Friday mornings.  Ah, the limitations of a day job.  Thinking of playing hooky anytime soon? Maybe for an exceptional smoked salmon experience?   Needless to say, some if it made it into our potato salad and the rest, well, got devoured as is and with our fingers.

Potato Salad Greenpoint Style with Smoked Salmon

5 or 6 potatoes cubed

2 to three scallions (I like to use only the greens) chopped

3 radishes chopped

A handful of the chopped radish greens*

2 teaspoons capers

3 1/2 inch cut of smoked salmon steak diced

sea salt to taste

black pepper to taste

1/2 cup mayonaise

2 tablespoons dijon mustard

2 glugs of olive oil

juice of one lemon

Boil your potatos in salted water until tender but not mushy.  You want them to be soft when your fork goes through but not to fall apart.  Then drain.  In a large bowl, toss your chopped radishes, radish greens, scallions, smoked salmon and capers,  In a small bowl, whisk together mayonaise, mustard, olive oil, and lemon juice with a little salt and pepper.  I like to add the potatoes while they are still very warm but not steaming hot.  I would recommend letting them cool for 7 to 10 minutes.  The hotter they are the more they will absorb your dressing.  You want them to absorb some of the dressing but not so much so that the other ingredients don't get enough.  Finish with another sprinkling of sea salt and black pepper.

*I often reserve the greens of a root vegetable to use in a dish like I would parsley.  Why waste it when it is tasty and delicious?

Artful Brunch: Scones

Before I decided that I liked eating scones, I liked the word scone.  I like how the sound pours out of your mouth long and low like a church bell.  I also liked the idea of a scone, evoking cloth napkins and china tea cups.  Although what was a beautiful, auditory sound for me was paired with a dry, sandy mouthful of lumpy bread.  This was made worse one unfortunate weekday morning when, in a groggy, decaffeinated state, I convinced myself that it would be a good idea to get a scone at Starbucks.  Still dry, lumpy bread but with too much sugar.

But still, I was not ready to give up on the romanticized vision of china teacups.  And the word scone falling off the tongue easier than, let's say, pancake.  Not that I have anything against pancakes. Particularly if they are made with buttermilk and plump with blueberries (Janice!).  And I will say it, I didn't like pancakes until I had them made that way.  Proving yet again that it isn't the food alone but the approach.  Brunch, like all of life's simple pleasures, should be artful.

The first batch of scones I made were my best scones.  Back in the fall, after a very ambitious day of apple picking that became the inspiration to many an apple laden recipe (see here), I made apple cheddar scones.  These were adapted from a recipe in "Once Upon a Tart" by Frank Mentesana and Jerome Audureau.  I came upon this lovely little cookbook quite by accident.  Or rather I should say that my mother came across this book in the library she was working in.  I came to learn that this little cafe is located on Sullivan St. in Manhattan and if you are in the neighborhood it is most certainly worth a visit.

Back to the scone recipe.  My scone adventure began with a simple recipe for Cheddar-Parmesan Scones with Fresh Dill.  I was first intrigued by how simple the recipe was.  I didn't even have to take out my Kitchenaid mixer.  How could it hurt? I swapped out the Parmesan, cayenne and dill for apples, being that I had about a bushel on hand anyway.  The result was not dry, but a delicately balanced, sweet and savory,  steamy cloud of bread that drank butter when you spread it on.  I thought that perhaps it was the apples that balanced out the texture but I have since made a few versions without that were almost as soft.  (The apples do help a little.)  My most recent version of this scone was closest to the original.  But the recipe is so adaptable that you can find any combination of sweet or savory additions to make this work. Something to remember is that if the flavor you are adding is moist by nature it adds to that fluffy, soft, texture in your scone.  The book does have a variety of scone recipes, all were the ratios are different depending on the types of ingredients being used, and is worth checking out (for other things too).  My sincere thanks Frank and Jerome!

Cheddar-Asiago Scones with Chives

(adapted from Once upon a Tart by Frank Mentesana and Jerome Audureau with Carolynn Carreno)

2 2/3 cups unbleached all-purpose flour

1 tablespoon baking powder

1/2 teaspoon salt

1 stick of butter, cut in 8 pieces

3 large eggs,

1/2 cup cold milk

2 tablespoons chopped chives

2 cups cheddar cheese

1/3 cup grated asiago

Position one of your oven racks in the center of your oven and preheat your oven to 400 degrees. Line a baking sheet with parchment paper.   Dump the dry ingredients into the bowl of a food processor and pulse so that they are mixed evenly.  Add the butter run your food processor for 15 seconds.  Continue to pulse if there are still chunks of butter.  It should look a little like bread crumbs. Then dump the mixture into a large bowl.  In a smaller bowl, whisk the eggs o break the yolks.  Whisk in milk followed but chives and cheeses.   Then pour the wet ingredients in with the dry and stir with a wooden spoon.  Note that it will seem very dry at first but it will come together.  Once you have a dough- like consistency scoop  up about a 1/2 cup of it in your hands and plop in on the parchment paper.  They should be about 2 inches apart.  Bake for 20-25 minutes, until the tops are golden brown and a toothpick comes out clean.

More Signs of Spring: Butter Braised Radishes with Herbs

If you have never thought to cook a radish before this post is for you.  Think of all the classic flavor marriages you have come to know: bacon and eggs, peanut butter and jelly, hamburgers and french fries.  Now let me add radishes and butter. I know that you are thinking, "oh sure, what doesn't go well with butter?" The next time you butter a warm, crusty, slice of baguette, sprinkle it with salt and add a few radish slices and you will see what I mean.  After you have done that, think of that crisp, peppery texture softened in brown butter.  Then try this recipe.  Radishes forever transformed in your mind.  I promise.

Butter Braised Radishes with Herbs

A dozen radishes scrubbed clean with their ends trimmed off

2 1/2 tablespoons butter

sea salt

1/2 a teaspoon of sugar

3 sprigs of thyme

1 cup mixed chopped herbs such as chives, dill, parsley, thyme or tarragon (I used dill, chives and thyme) 

Preheat your oven to 400 degrees.  In a medium sized, cast iron skillet, melt the butter until it becomes a light golden brown.  Add radishes whole with sugar and salt.  Sautee` over medium heat turning occasionally so they get a good amount of color on all sides. Then transfer to the oven and roast until soft. Toss your herbs with radishes in the hot skillet.  Transfer to a bowl once the herbs wilt to stop the cooking.  

Table Style: Porcelain Top Cafetera

Let me share with you my birthday present.  My husband knows how to make me happy.  I have kept this little coffee pot bookmarked on my wish list for almost a year.  It just wasn't that easy to find.  I first came across it in our neighbors' home.  I am very particular about my coffee and at the same time very simple in my lifestyle. Only a like-minded and worldly couple could have had such a beautiful object that makes good, simple coffee.  "Where did you find this?" I ask them.   Their reply?  Spain.  Great...so where do I get one?  I desperately ask if, per chance, they are going back to Spain anytime soon.  

I have always been a fan of the stove top cafetera.  It was my first coffee maker of choice and is fondly remembered in my household growing up.  Memories of dinner with guests always bring to mind the picture of my father raising himself from the head of the table after the main course had been adequately devoured and announcing "Who wants coffee?  Black or brown?"  Black or brown was my fathers' delineation between what was considered Italian coffee, espresso, and American drip coffee.  As an Italian-American household we always offered both. Now he has a fancy espresso machine.  Since he takes such pride in his coffee toy, we usually skip the American coffee.  I have to admit, it has been a long time since I have heard him ask, "Black or brown?" and thinking about it takes me back. 

Back to my new gadget:  unlike the signature, silver cafetera that I am so used to, this one has a porcelain top instead of the octagonal, aluminum one.  Yes, I am a sucker for this beautiful, white, ridged form but practically speaking, I love how it goes from the stove to the table.  The minimal oxidation is nice too.  It makes for some easy cleaning.  So through some serious google research we managed to track down this item on amazon.com.  If you are interested, it is made by a company called Valira and the model is Claudia.