An Embarrassment of Riches

Let me begin by saying:  I am not much into cutesy.

Crab is everywhere right now:  fresh boiled crab legs served simply with butter, crab omelets, and something called "Tabby's Crabby Patty."  Please note that the last one is at one of the best restaurants in town.

It may be very good, but I can't get past the name.

Summer in Alaska is an embarrassment of riches when it comes to fish and shellfish.  I won't claim that crab is cheap here, per se, but you can get decent deals on fresh frozen crab legs.  It's a luxury item that's brought back down to earth a little, at least for special occasions.

David and I were invited to a potluck of sorts at a friend's house on the Fourth of July.  Since the Fourth was in the middle of the week, I was feeling anxious about being out of the office, plus I was a little sunburned (not a good look for me--and I'm vigilant with sunscreen!) and generally cranky.  I didn't feel like making that much of an effort, to be honest, but I'm too persnickety to take food that I'm less than proud of to a potluck.

Enter this luxe-looking spread, which looks more complicated than it is.  It takes maybe fifteen minutes to put together, and that's only because you have to shell the crab.  I've tweaked the recipe from how it is originally written because the crab/butter ratio was off.  Also, learn from my mistake and chop the crab a bit finer than you see here.

As an aside, I had a great time at the potluck.  Sometimes it's just hard to leave the house to socialize when I'm in a mood, but I'm always good when I get there.

Before I get to the recipe, don't forget to comment to win a bottle of very good olive oil, my treat--just go here and leave a comment.  I'll randomly choose a comment left by 6 p.m. on Sunday.

Potted Crab Spread

Adapted from Bon Appetit Magazine, April 2012

2 lemons, zested and juiced

2 tbsp. cooking sherry

1/2 cup good quality unsalted butter, softened

1/8 tsp. cayenne pepper, or more to taste

Kosher salt and fresh-ground black pepper

6 oz. lump crabmeat, chopped coarsely but in relatively small chunks

Fresh chopped parsley (optional, but would give it great color)

Boil lemon juice and sherry in a small pan over medium-high heat;  it should reduce to just over a tablespoon.  Set this aside and allow it to cool.

Using a mini-prep food processor, blend the butter with the zest, cooled juice mixture and cayenne pepper until smooth.  Add the zest to taste, then transfer the butter mixture to a small bowl and fold in the chopped parsley (if used), salt and pepper to taste.  Add a bit more cayenne if you like.

Using a small spatula, fold in the chopped crab.  Divide the spread into two ramekins or other serving dishes, then smooth the tops and cover with plastic wrap.  Chill for at least an hour;  you will then need to bring it up to room temperature to serve.

Serve with buttered toasts or your favorite cracker--steer away from strongly flavored crackers to allow the crab flavor to shine.

Makes about one and a half cups of spread.

Two Anniversaries

David and I celebrated our third anniversary yesterday.  We didn't make a big deal out of it, other than going to the Crow's Nest, probably the best restaurant in Anchorage, for dinner.  And here we pause for a slight rant:  why would a top-quality restaurant oversalt its food?  I like salt as much as the next person, and it definitely has its place in seasoning and finishing food, but oversalting a high-quality pepper steak AND its side of wild mushrooms is insane.

And now we return to our previously scheduled programming.

This is also the 100th post on this blog.  If I were more organized today, I'd have a giveaway or something special planned.  Watch for that in the next post.

Tomorrow at sundown, Passover starts.  Since I haven't been home much this week, I still need to quarantine any products with chametz (breads, crackers, rice, beans, cereal, etc.)--anything with leavening or that puffs when it cooks.  

Passover seders are typically held the first and second nights, but due to some guests' scheduling quirks, we are holding ours on Sunday evening.  One of our guests is vegan and five are vegetarian.  It should be a fascinating menu--stay tuned on that too.

In the interest of clearing out some of the chametz before Passover, I give you this onion focaccia.  Made with some of the time-saving shortcuts I talked about here, this takes less than fifteen minutes of active time and may have been the best focaccia yet. 

It's just the right amount of onion-y, and the onions soften and mellow during baking, making it the perfect accompaniment to pasta or a roasted meat.

Onion Focaccia

Adapted from the CIA's Italian Cooking at Home

 

1 cup 2 percent milk

1 tsp. sugar

1 envelope active dry yeast or 2 1/4 tsp. jarred active dry yeast

4 cups all-purpose flour, plus more for shaping bread

3/4 cup warm water

5 tbsp. good-quality olive oil, plus more for oiling the pan

1 tsp. kosher salt

1 small yellow onion (not a sweet onion), cut into thin rings

1 1/2 tsp. coarse flaked sea salt

 

Warm the milk on the stove or in the microwave to 100 degrees.  Cool the warmed milk for a minute, then add the yeast and stir to dissolve.  Set aside for about fifteen minutes;  it should begin to foam.

 

In a stand mixer using the dough hook attachment, combine the flour, two tablespoons of olive oil, the yeast mixture, the water and the kosher salt.  Mix on medium until the dough is smooth and elastic, about five minutes.

Warm your oven to 180 degrees.  While it is warming, take the mixer bowl off the mixer, dust the top of the dough with all-purpose flour and seal tightly with plastic wrap.  Turn off the oven and place the bowl in it.  Let the dough rise until it is about doubled, about half an hour.

 

Flour a work surface and tip the dough onto it.  Using your hands, shape the dough into a rough square, then bring each of the corners to the center.  Turn the dough over and tuck the ends in so the dough is circular.  Cover loosely with plastic wrap and leave it on the counter to relax, about half an hour.

 

While it is relaxing, preheat the oven again.  Prepare your baking pan--I used a small paella pan, which worked perfectly.  Brush the pan with two tablespoons of olive oil, include the sides.  Then pat the dough into the pan using your hands.  Turn off the oven, cover the plan loosely with plastic wrap and allow the dough to rise one more time.  This should take 30-40 minutes.

 

Remove the pan from the oven and preheat to 500 degrees.  Sprinkle the remaining olive oil over it and evenly distribute the onion rings.  Let the dough sit on the counter for a few minutes to allow it to continue rising around the onion rings, as shown here.  Press fingers lightly into dough to create dimples in it and sprinkle the flake sea salt on top.



Bake for about fifteen minutes, until the edges of the bread turn light brown.  Do not overbake--the bread may look slightly underdone, but it will have great texture.  Remove from the oven, cool slightly and cut into wedges.

Makes 10 to 12 good-size focaccia wedges.

Wanderlust and Garlic Bread

The last Friday in February, the book group met to discuss Wanderlust by Elisabeth Eaves.  The nonfiction story of a woman who realizes in high school that she has an irresistible itch to travel would not seem to be controversial.  The fact that she was incapable of doing so in the absence of a love interest in every locale was.

This book group is a fabulous circle of professional women--some originally from Alaska, one from New York, one from New Orleans--Alaska is fascinating in that sense, because maybe a quarter of the people I meet are originally from here.  We span a diverse group of ages, ethnicities and experiences, but we were all united in one respect:  none of us wanted to travel with this woman. 



Check out those fabulously colored rice cakes in the background, from one of
the three Korean bakeries in Anchorage.  Three?!?  Who knew?

I loved her writing, and as someone who has done more traveling in the last three years than in the previous (ahem) thirty-five, I understand the urge to hear different languages, immerse oneself in different cultures and be completely peripatetic.  However, must she act like an ugly American?  And why does finding herself mean that she has to pick up a different man in every location?  (I'm totally serious here.  In the second half of the book, I couldn't keep track of which guy she was talking about.)

In the end, the book was pretty much roundly denounced and the conversation turned to what made a great travel companion.  Well, that and the international variety of snacks that everyone brought in keeping with the book's theme.

So...garlic bread.  It's the humblest of foods, but I never want to eat another storebought loaf coated with what seems to be garlic-flavored Crisco.  I generally avoid it altogether in favor of roasted garlic cloves smeared on bruschetta.  However, Lidia Bastianich's garlic bread is simple, quick and feeds a crowd.  She has three variations in her book, one of which is a take on pan con tomate, but needless to say I'll wait until the tomatoes in Alaska look a little better before I try that one.

Garlic Bread Two Ways

Adapted from Lidia Bastianich's Italy in America

1 large loaf Italian bread, halved lengthwise and cut into twelve pieces

3 tbsp. good-quality olive oil

3 cloves garlic, minced

1 tbsp. parsley flakes

1/2 cup Pecorino Romano, finely shredded

1 tsp. red pepper flakes (optional)

Combine the minced garlic and olive oil and allow to steep for half an hour.

Preheat the oven to 400 degrees.  Spray a large baking sheet with nonstick cooking spray and arrange the bread pieces on it., crust side down.

Using a basting brush, brush the pieces thoroughly with the garlic oil.  Sprinkle half the pieces with the parsley and red pepper flakes, and the other half with the cheese.

Bake for five to eight minutes, until the slices are lightly browned.  Serve immediately.

For the Love of Bread

I am toast.

In the past four days, I have criss-crossed the country for work, racking up something like 8,500 flight miles and spending about thirty hours in either the air or airports. 

Ironically, it was the shortest piece of the travels, a mere 500 miles to Fairbanks and back yesterday, that really did me in.

Business travel isn't fun, but it doesn't particularly bother me either.  I missed the Oscars and my friends' Oscar party for the first time in years, although I did manage to win the Oscar pool in absentia.

Before I left, though, David and I had dinner with my friends Sondra and Stephan, who have a new baby.  This involved our making dinner at our house, packing up a small catering operation and hauling it down the road to their house.  We wanted to leave them with enough food for another meal, since their lives are so hectic right now.

One of the dishes I made was a classic focaccia alla genovese--focaccia from Genoa.  I can't help but note that when we went to Italy last year, David was dead set against going to Genoa, which is a large port town.  It isn't as flashy or famous as a lot of Italian cities, but the museums are fantastic and we had some very good food.

To speed up the process of making this bread, I turned the oven on to its lowest temperature (170 degrees) just prior to each of the bread rising periods.  I then turned the oven off when I put the bread in to proof and rise.  It sped up the process by a good hour, and the texture of the bread was fantastic.

I was sad to have left the rest of the bread behind, because I would have loved to pack a focaccia sandwich for my travels. 

Focaccia Alla Genovese with Thyme

Adapted from the CIA's Italian Cooking at Home

1 cup 2 percent milk

1 tsp. sugar

1 envelope active dry yeast

4 cups all-purpose flour, plus more for shaping bread

3/4 cup warm water

5 tbsp. good-quality olive oil

1 tsp. kosher salt

1 tbsp. thyme, chopped

1 tsp. coarse flaked sea salt

Warm the milk on the stove or in the microwave to 100 degrees--I used a candy thermometer to monitor the temperature.  Cool the warmed milk for a minute, then add the yeast and stir to dissolve.  Set aside for about fifteen minutes;  it should begin to foam.

In a stand mixer using the dough hook attachment, combine the flour, two tablespoons of olive oil, the yeast mixture, the water and the kosher salt.  Mix on medium until the dough is smooth and elastic, about five minutes.

Warm your oven.  While it is warming, take the mixer bowl off the mixer, dust the top of the dough with all-purpose flour and seal tightly with plastic wrap.  Turn off the oven and place the bowl in it.  Let the dough rise until it is about doubled, about half an hour.

Flour a work surface and tip the dough onto it.  Using your hands, shape the dough into a rough square, then bring each of the corners to the center.  Turn the dough over and tuck the ends in so the dough is circular.  Cover loosely with plastic wrap and leave it on the counter to relax, about half an hour.

While it is relaxing, preheat the oven again.  Prepare your baking pan--I used a small paella pan, which worked perfectly.  Brush the pan with two tablespoons of olive oil, include the sides.  Then pat the dough into the pan using your hands.  Turn off the oven, cover the plan loosely with plastic wrap and allow the dough to rise one more time.  This should take 30-40 minutes.

Remove the pan from the oven and preheat to 500 degrees.  Press fingers lightly into dough to create dimples in it.  Combine the remaining tablespoon of olive oil and thyme and allow to steep while the oven is heating.  Then brush the bread with the oil and sprinkle the flake sea salt on top.

Bake for 10 to 12 minutes, until the bread is a light golden brown.  Remove from the oven, cool slightly and cut into wedges.

Makes 10 to 12 good-size focaccia wedges.

Chasing the Blues Away (Carbohydrates Edition)

As anyone who read my last entry knows, the last few days have been difficult ones.  Fortunately, the "Inspecting Carol" cast seems to have rallied and perhaps even thrived by having some of the (offstage) drama removed from the show.  The rest of the fallout--my friendship with the departing actor, in particular--is going to have to wait.

I don't know about everyone else, but I'm a carbohydrate addict.  When blue, I have two modes with respect to food:  either my appetite disappears altogether, or I want as many starchy, bready things as you can pile on a plate.

Has anyone ever been to the Zuni Cafe in San Francisco?  It's run by Judy Rodgers, who has been there for almost twenty-five years and has turned it into a combination of neighborhood hangout, foodie destination and upscale Parisian bistro.  It features a long zinc bar and is incredibly loud, and according to my friend Stacey, crammed at all hours.



Photo from the Zuni Cafe website, http://www.zunicafe.com/.

The Zuni's signature dish is its roast chicken with bread salad and a side of lightly dressed frisée.  The chicken is wonderful--its skin is thoroughly salted and the bird is refrigerated overnight, which leads to perfectly crisp skin--but the real winner is the bread salad. 

If made correctly, it has a combination of crispy and soft pieces, the tang of vinegar tempered by the sweetness of the dried fruit, and is utterly irresistible.  The ideal bread to use is a hearty country white loaf, and you should avoid French and sourdough breads.  French bread doesn't have the right crumb to crust ratio, and the tang of the sourdough will overwhelm the flavor balance of this dish.

When I handed David the grocery list, I obviously failed to mention the "no French bread" aspect (oops), because that's what he brought home.  It wasn't ideal, but this recipe is solid enough to survive it.

It won't chase the blues away, but it might help.  I've adapted it for the season by swapping out the currants for dried cranberries, if you can find unsweetened craisins.  If they aren't available, use the currants.  I've also substituted leeks, which are readily available and look great right now, for the traditional scallions.

You will have leftover vinaigrette, which can be used for a side salad.  The Zuni primarily uses frisée, but the dressing would be delicious on any kind of baby greens.

Zuni Cafe Bread Salad

Adapted from the Zuni Cafe Cookbook by Judy Rodgers

1 lb. chewy bread, preferably a fresh country-style white bread

8 tbsp. extra-virgin olive oil

3 tbsp. Champagne vinegar

2 tsp. red wine vinegar

2 tbsp. dried unsweetened cranberries (craisins)

2 tbsp. warm water

4 tbsp. pine nuts, toasted

4 cloves garlic, thinly sliced

1/2 cup leeks, green and pale white portions, thinly sliced

4 tbsp. low-sodium chicken stock

Kosher salt and fresh-ground black pepper, to taste

Slice the majority of the crust off the bread, being careful to leave as much of the loaf intact as possible.  (If you feel like it, eat some of the crusts.  I know I did.)

Preheat the broiler.  While it is heating, cut the bread into about four chunks, and rub them all over with two tablespoons of the olive oil.  Place them on a cookie sheet and broil them until lightly brown all over, turning as necessary.

Remove the bread from the oven and let it cool briefly.  Then tear the bread into irregularly sized chunks.  Don't make the chunks uniform, because the texture of the salad depends on some pieces getting really crisp while others remain soft.  Place the bread chunks in a large bowl.

This is how the crumbs should look, although use a larger bowl, because you'll need the space to toss the bread with the other ingredients.

In a small bowl, combine four tablespoons of olive oil with the Champagne vinegar and whisk together.  Taste and add salt and pepper as needed.  If the mixture is too oily, add a bit more vinegar.

Drizzle half of the vinaigrette on the bread chunks and toss to coat well.  Taste a chunk of the bread and adjust the seasoning again as necessary.  Add additional vinaigrette if needed.

In a ramekin, combine the craisins, red wine vinegar and warm water.  Leave to soak.

Preheat the oven to 475 degrees.  While it is heating, warm two tablespoons of olive oil in a small skillet and add the leeks and garlic over low heat, stirring until they are softened and slightly golden.  This will go fast--don't let the garlic burn.



I had green onions in the house, so used them for the photos. 
The next batch I make will have the leeks.



Add the leek-garlic combination to the bread salad.  Drain the craisins and add those as well, folding these items into the bread.

Drizzle the chicken stock over the bread and fold again.  If the mixture is dry, add a little more vinaigrette. 

Pour the bread into a large round baking dish, ensuring that it is not spread shallowly.  The magic of the salad is that some portions remain soft, while others get crispy.

Place the salad in the oven and bake for approximately 30 minutes, until the salad is lightly golden and thoroughly warmed. 

Serves four to six as a side dish.

And a P.S.--thanks to those both in Anchorage and here in cyberspace for the good thoughts and sympathy over the last couple of days.