Archives for category: Savory

It all started with a corn tortilla. Not just any corn tortilla. The Hot Bread Kitchen handmade corn tortillas lovingly pressed by hand and cooked over a hot comal.

My friend Mark loves these tortillas, and tortillas in general. So when I saw them at the co-op last week I couldn’t resist picking up a package of six. (They sell these at the greenmarket in Union Square on Wednesdays too.) I figured they’d go well with all the black turtle beans in our cupboard, if nothing else.

So finally this weekend Mark and I had the opportunity to cook together – we had previously soaked and cooked the black beans so that part was done. They were fragrant with bay leaves and garlic. Feeling ambitious, despite the late hour we were starting, we decided on enchiladas, rather than what would have been the quicker (but perhaps less gratifying) tacos with beans. With spring onions and asparagus in the fridge from a recent greenmarket purchase, we decided on braising these in the oven as a side dish.

The fridge and spice cupboard revealed the additional makings for the enchiladas; there was Carr Valley Bread Cheese from Murray’s Cheese (it’s a Finnish-style, mild, oven-baked cheese), and the true stars (and work horses) of this dish: Guajillo Chili Peppers from Penzeys Spices and Happy Quail Farms Pepper Chips from the San Francisco Bay Area, transported to Brooklyn on Mark’s carry-on recently.

The first thing we had to do was soak the peppers in a hot water bath – this becomes the basis for the spicy enchilada sauce. We boiled 1-2 cups of water in the kettle then poured it over the peppers in a bowl, and let soak for 20 minutes.

Peppers hydrating in hot water

As these were soaking I added the onions to a cold water bath to thoroughly clean these sandy alliums for our vegetable side dish. I changed the water once or twice to make sure they were free of all grit then patted dry.

I pre-heated the oven to 400 degrees and into a glass casserole dish went 3 tbsp unsalted butter, 1/2 c white wine, and the onions (with green tops and all). Mark grated some fresh nutmeg over the onions, and added salt and lots of freshly ground black pepper. Then into the oven, uncovered, for 20-25 minutes. I washed the asparagus stalks (about 1/2 pound) and set aside (these guys will get steamed and later added to the onion dish).

Grating nutmeg over the onions

Back to the enchiladas…now comes the fun part. Using a food mill we puréed the peppers over a large bowl (liquid and all) for what seemed like quite a long time – just when I’d think I couldn’t possibly squeeze anything else from these peppers Mark would say gently, “Just a little more.”

Transferring the peppers to the food mill

Puréeing the peppers

When there really was little life left to squeeze out of the peppers we added an 8-ounce can of tomato sauce – this thickens the overall sauce, adding more body and, crucially, tempers the heat. We also then slowly added somewhere between 4-5 tbsp of olive oil.

Adding olive oil to the puréed tomato-pepper sauce

At this point it was time to remove the braised onions from the oven and steam the asparagus on the stovetop for five minutes. We added the asparagus to the baking dish and mixed it with the lovely juices of the braising liquid and onions. Keep warm, set aside.

Asparagus and spring onions in white wine and butter

It was almost time to soak the tortillas in the sauce – but the sauce was still fiery hot so we added about 2 tbsp honey to smooth out the flavor. It still packed a lot of heat but not unbearably so. Then we added the tortillas to the sauce to soak them and make the tortillas more pliable (you wouldn’t want to soak as long with fresh or homemade tortillas, but these HBK ones come refrigerated so they’re not quite malleable) and absorb the flavors. We couldn’t get them soft enough to roll up entirely, so we decided to leave them in the shape of a taco, half-folded.

Tortillas meet sauce

We coated the bottom of a cast-iron skillet (it was either a 10- or 12-inch pan) with a bit of the sauce then folded each tortilla and placed in the skillet. To each tortilla we added slices of the cheese then the black beans. We topped the whole dish off with the remaining fiery sauce before putting into the still-hot 400-degree oven for 15-20 minutes.

When I checked on the enchiladas the tortillas had turned a crispy brown and the beans were bubbling along with the melted, creamy cheese.

When ready to serve we squeezed fresh lime over the enchiladas and dove in. Served with the spring onion-asparagus dish we had ourselves a mouthwatering, eye-watering,  good meal. It was topped off by a dessert of Mark’s homemade strawberry shortcake, a cool finish to the evening somewhere ’round midnight.

Hot enchiladas in the skillet


Raise your hand if you ate your peas as a child? Go on, raise ’em high and proud. Is there anyone out there? I missed thirty years of happy pea-eating – why didn’t anyone tell me?!

As a child, my mom occasionally ate peas but no one else at the table that I can remember joined her. First of all the peas, like all vegetables I laid eyes on as a kid, came out of our freezer. Mealy, tasteless, watery. I can’t really blame myself for categorically avoiding anything that was presented as a “vegetable” for the first half of my life. I imagine this is what it was like growing up in the 50s.

As you may know, the pea season, like all good seasons, is a fleeting one, and now is the perfect time to luxuriate in the green little orbs. They typically arrive at the farmer’s market in late spring and will be at their peak for the next 2-3 weeks. I couldn’t resist these on Monday when they called to me from the produce aisle at the co-op.

And as luck would have it, the little garden my landlord tends at the front of the apartment is overrun with mint at the moment. Peas and mint are a perfect combination. You could even say they go together like two peas in a…

But it would be unfair to leave out the third element in what becomes an elegant taste trifecta. It’s a cheese that ryhmes with “meta.” Remember that barrel-aged goodness I wrote about a few days ago? You see where I’m going with this? Peas – mint – feta. Served with orecchiette pasta in a creamy sauce of the melted feta, flecked with fresh mint and just-barely-cooked fresh peas. I also had some green garlic in the fridge that I sautéed before throwing in the other ingredients for added depth and flavor.

Late spring is an inspiring time to cook. Just look around, see what the farmers are hawking at the market, and if you’re lucky, see what your landlady has growing near the bottom of your stoop.

Orecchiette with peas, mint, and feta

1/2 lb orecchiette pasta (or any shape that has crevices the sauce and peas can cling to)
1-2 pounds of peas in their pods
4-5 stalks green garlic
1/3 cup feta, crumbled
handful of fresh mint
Parmesan
salt and pepper
olive oil

Bring a pot of water to boil adding a good dose of salt. Meanwhile, you’ve gotta get started on shelling peas! The pea pods open quite easily with a little tug, just drop the peas into a colander or bowl and discard the pods. This might take 15 minutes or so, especially if you do this slowly like me.

Add the pasta to the boiling water with a tbsp of olive oil (to prevent sticking).

Wash the green garlic well and chop the bottom part (discarding the top leafy parts) like you would a scallion. Heat a couple tbsp of olive oil in a skillet on the stove and when warm add the green garlic. Sauté for a few minutes.

As the green garlic is mellowing, crumble the feta and roughly chop the mint. Add the peas to the skillet along with 1/2 c of the pasta water. This will help steam the peas and add a nice base for a sauce. Sauté the peas for a couple of minutes, then add the cooked pasta to the skillet (make sure it’s al dente so it can absorb some of the good sauce flavors) and the crumbled feta. The feta will melt and form a sauce with the pasta cooking liquid.

At the last minute toss in the mint, add freshly ground black pepper, and salt to taste. Grate some Parmesan over the top. You can eat this dish on its own or served with a green salad would be nice.

Serves 2-3 as a main, 4-5 as a side

When it came time to make dinner with all the goodies I brought home from the greenmarket I stuck to the original plan.

Around 3 pm, before going out for a run, I remembered to soak the Cannellinis in about 3 inches of water, covered the pot with a lid, and let them be for the next 2-3 hours.

Today was the inaugural weekend of Smorgasburg, the Brooklyn Flea food extravaganza held at Kent Ave. and N. 6th St. in Williamsburg. The New York Times covered it in Wednesday’s dining section so I was prepared for a robust turnout. I decided to swing by there on my run just to check out the scene. As I turned the corner onto N. 6th I began to see the vast sea of hungry foodies, out to try a Salvadorian papusa, duck egg mayonnaise, or an Arnold Palmer slushie. The Mayo stand had displayed a small hand-written sign that read, “Happy Rapture! Eat All the Mayo You Want!” There were no signs of rapture, but plenty of stands to get your locavore on.

I forgot my money at home so it was on with the run, then back home to tend to the meal.

I discarded the bean’s soaking liquid, then refilled the pot (beans in) with fresh water, adding two carrots cut in half, an onion, also cut in half, about a tbsp of black peppercorns, mustard seeds, cumin seeds, and kosher salt. I brought the water to a boil then cocked the lid partway and let it simmer for 45 minutes. While the beans softened to the tunes of a robust gurgle, giving off steam and the aromas of simmering spices, I grated about 1/2 cup of Parmesan, finely chopped a handful of oregano, and diced about 1 cup of spring garlic, 3 cloves of garlic-garlic, and 1 shallot.

I cleaned and dried the skate fillet, added salt, pepper, and ichimi, then dredged the fillet in flour, and set aside.

When the beans were soft I turned off the heat. In a large skillet I heated 2-3 tbsp of olive oil and added the garlics and shallot. After sautéeing for about 3 or 4 minutes I gradually added the cooked beans, with a slotted spoon, to the skillet, including somewhere around 1 cup of the cooking liquid. After the liquid in the skillet had come to a boil, I turned down the heat, added the Parmesan, oregano, some more salt and pepper, and a handful of chopped spinach. Ignore for 5 minutes.

At this point, in a smaller cast iron skillet, I heated 3 tbsp of walnut oil (good for cooking at high heat), then added the skate, which just fit in the pan. I fried on each side for 3-4 minutes, until it had a nice crispy crust from the flour on each side.

I had the remaining cooking liquid from the beans reheating on a nearby burner (with all the herbs and spices at the bottom, but carrots and onion discarded), about 2 inches of liquid, then threw in the asparagus to steam, 4-5 minutes, until tender.

Everything was ready at roughly the same time. I even managed to put out a little cheese board with the Bakeri baguette and a Gruyere from Fairway that needed to be eaten sooner rather than later. It turned out to be a lovely Saturday night supper.