Blanquette de veau is a delicious, classic French dish with a real difference.  I’ll admit though, I’d never really considered tackling it, because, at first look, it seems a bit complicated.  But I recently hosted a book club at my house to discuss the book  Five Quarters of the Orange by Joanne Harris, a rich, evocative story laced with memories of classic French food.  So of course, I had to plan a lavish French feast. For some reason, blanquette kept coming back to me as the perfect dish for this event.   I thought about and analyzed many recipes, and came up with a version that, though it involves a few steps, is not really all that difficult.  The biggest nod to simplicity I made was using frozen pearl onions.  Fresh pearl onions can absolutely be used, but they are a bit of a nuisance to peel in my opinion.

Unlike most stews, the meat in blanquette is not browned, but blanched to preserve its pale color.  The monochromatic palette and tangy crème fraiche sauce set this dish apart. The key to blanquette is a flavorful stock base.  I use homemade stock made with lots of fresh flavors, and I really recommend that you do too, though if you must, a boxed stock is okay.  Adding extra flavor to the cooking liquid is essential, and I love the addition of fennel and leek, which add a brightness to the stock.

So, plan an elegant spring dinner party.  Your guests will be impressed, and you can pretend that you’ve been slaving for days to make a French classic.  Traditionally this is served with rice, but I like it with steamed or roasted potatoes (the multi-colored small ones are pretty) and some glazed carrots.

Blanquette de Veau (Creamy Veal Stew)

4 pounds veal stew meat (or veal shoulder cut into cubes)

7 cups chicken stock

1 carrot

1 stalk celery

1 leek

1 fennel bulb

1 small onion

4 whole cloves

2 sprigs parsley

2 sprigs thyme

2 bay leaves

1 (12-ounce) package frozen pearl onions, thawed

3 Tablespoons butter

3 Tablespoons all-purpose flour

1 cup crème fraiche

Salt to taste

Chopped parsley to garnish

Fill a Dutch oven or oven safe casserole dish (I use a 5 quart enameled cast-iron pot) with water and bring to a boil.  Drop in the veal pieces and blanch for 4 minutes, until the outside of the veal is sealed but it is not cooked through.  Drain the meat in a colander and rinse it under cool water to remove any foam or scum.  Rinse the pot and wipe out any brown bits and return the meat to the pot and pour over the chicken stock. Tuck in the carrot, celery, leek, halved fennel bulb and onions, stuck with the cloves into the pot.  Tie the parsley, thyme and bay leaves together with a piece of twine and drop it in the pot.  Bring to a boil, then reduce the heat, cover the pot and simmer until the meat is tender, about 1 ½ hours.

When the meat is tender, place the colander over a bowl and drain the meat, reserving the cooking liquid.  Discard the vegetables and herbs. Wipe out the cooking pot removing any browned bits.  Pour 1/2 cup of the cooking liquid into the pot, add the pearl onions and cook over high heat until the liquid is almost totally evaporated, glazing the onions. Remove the onions to a small bowl and set aside.  Wipe out the pot again to remove any brown bits.  Pour in the remaining cooking liquid, bring to a boil and reduce to 2 cups.

Pour the reduced cooking liquid into a measuring jug and set aside.  Wipe the pot clean again, then melt the butter over medium heat.  Whisk in the flour, cooking until thickened and pale in color.  Whisk in the reserved cooking liquid and cook until smooth and thickened, about 10 minutes.  Stir in the crème fraiche and stir until heated through.  Salt to taste. Add the veal and onions and cook until the meat is heated through.

Serve immediately sprinkled with chopped parsley.

Serves 6

A few years ago, I was in charge of preparing an Easter lunch for my family.  We were a small group that year, and decided on classic Southern brunch food – grits, fruit, ham.  But a whole ham would have been more than enough food for our group.  We would have had leftovers for years.  But most of the smaller hams on the market are pressed hams, and I am not into that.  And I didn’t want to serve pre-sliced pieces from a plastic package either.

I was standing at the deli counter, contemplating whether or not there was some kind of compromise I could work out.  And I saw the Canadian bacon.  They sell it sliced, like any deli meat, but of course behind the counter, they have it in whole chunks.  It took some explaining to the deli supervisor, but I went home with a big chunk of cured Canadian bacon.  I realized I could treat it both like a ham and like bacon, baking it with a sweet, sticky glaze and serving it sliced. And it was a hit.  Perfect for a small gathering, and perfect with the classic brunch accompaniments.  You can slice it thick or thin, as you like, but basically serve as you would ham.  If there are any leftovers, it is amazing on sandwiches or try an eggs benedict – the tangy, sweet edges on the bacon add a special touch.

Glazed Canadian Bacon

2 pounds Canadian bacon, one piece, unsliced

¼ cup light brown sugar

1 Tablespoon bourbon

1 Tablespoon Dijon mustard

1 Tablespoon cane syrup, molasses or maple syrup

¼ teaspoon ground ginger

Generous grinds of black pepper

Preheat the oven to 350°.  Line a baking dish with parchment or non-stick foil.

Place the piece of Canadian bacon in the prepared dish.  In a small bowl, whisk together the brown sugar, cane syrup, mustard, mustard powder, ginger and pepper.  Brush half the glaze over the bacon, spreading along the sides and ends.  Add one Tablespoon of water to the baking dish.

Bake the bacon until it reaches and internal temperature of 165°. This should take about an hour.  About 20 minutes into the cooking time, spoon the remaining glaze over the bacon and continue cooking.  When the bacon is done, leave it to rest for 5 minutes or so before slicing and serving.  It can be served warm or at room temperature.

Serves 8 – 10

I love a simple dish with a little something special.  This is such an easy weeknight dinner, with the smoky flavor of bacon, the bright color and fresh bite of spinach and a creamy sauce that is surprisingly simple.  I prefer to use regular spinach, not the baby spinach sold in the salad section, which I find really ticky to cut into pieces and remove stems.  I love the big, hearty tunnels of rigatoni, but any tubular pasta will work.

Creamy Spinach and Bacon Rigatoni

1 pound rigatoni pasta

6 strips of bacon

1 bunch of fresh spinach leaves

Clove of garlic, minced

1 (15-ounce) container whole milk ricotta

Salt and pepper

¼ teaspoon nutmeg

½ cup of grated parmesan cheese

Bring a large pot of salted water to the boil and cook the rigatoni according to the instructions on the package.

While the water is boiling and the pasta is cooking, cut the bacon into small pieces and cook it in a large sauté pan on high heat until crispy.  Meanwhile, rinse the spinach leaves, leaving a bit of water clinging to them. Remove the stems and roughly chop the leaves into manageable pieces.  They don’t need to be miniscule, but you don’t want long strands in the finished dish.

When the bacon is crispy, remove it with a slotted spoon to a paper towel lined plate to drain.  Reduce the heat to medium and give the bacon grease a couple of minutes to cool down.  Add the garlic and cook for just a minute before dropping in the spinach.  Be careful as the water from the spinach will cause some spitting.  Stir to coat it all in the oil, cover the pan and cook for about three minutes until the spinach is bright green and wilted.  Add the ricotta and stir until it is smooth and creamy.  Generously salt and pepper the dish, and stir in the nutmeg.

Your pasta should be ready by now.  Dip out 1 cup of the pasta cooking water, then drain the rigatoni in a colander.  Add the rigatoni to the ricotta sauce and stir to coat well. Drop in the bacon pieces and add about ½ cup of the pasta water and stir to loosen up the sauce and coat the pasta.  Use more pasta water if you need Sprinkle the parmesan cheese over the top.

Serves 6

My introduction to this French country dish was, oddly, in London.  And the first time I had it, I had never heard of it.  Since my graduate school days, I have made an annual pilgrimage to London, extending the trip each year, to spend enough time to settle in and not feel rushed or overwhelmed.  Sure, I go to museums and historical sights and see friends, but my main focus, as is always the case, is food.  The first thing I do when I arrive is hit the various markets in town to stock up on whatever is fresh and in season. I rent a flat for my stay so I have access to a kitchen.  Several years ago, in my neighborhood, a new street market began.  And it is fabulous.  Not big like Borough Market, but a perfect gem of a Saturday stop.  The vendors offer mostly prepared foods in such a diverse array it’s like vacation with in a vacation.  Oysters driven up from the South coast that morning, two Syrian brothers who sell sticky, sweet pastries.  An Indonesian family making unbelievable rice flour fritters with curry and shrimp. A young English woman who sells the most meltingly delicious handmade fudge.  Homemade Portugese jams, freshly baked breads, an array of cheeses from all over England, and another booth specializing in French cheese. When I plan my schedule, I make sure to be in London on as many Saturdays as possible to visit this jewel-box market.

A few years ago, as I was wandering and planning my meals for the next day, I came across a charming table decorated with flowers and a French flag, stacked with lovely little terra cotta casseroles.  I of course stopped to chat with the vendor, a charming young British woman selling petite dishes of classic French casseroles.  The earthenware dishes were filled with escargots in garlic butter, cassoulet, boeuf bourguignon, and coq au vin, all ready to pop in the oven and enjoy.  I was a bit dazzled by the choice and asked the vendor (the traiteur, really) which dish to take home for supper, and she told me the hachis parmentier was her favorite.  In fact, she confided, she liked it much better than traditional British cottage pie or Shepard’s pie (the former being made with beef, the latter with lamb).  With that endorsement, I went home with my hachis for Sunday dinner.

The little dish was enough for two meals, but I devoured the greater part of it in one sitting.  The remains, I dissected and made notes on, trying to tease out all the flavors so I could recreate it at home. I made notes, and jotted down a few questions for my traiteur the next week.  There was a £1 deposit on the terra cotta dish, so you could return it the next week and choose another casserole.  I dutifully carried my dish in my bag to Saturday’s market, but the vendor was not there.  And I have never seen her since, at that or any other London market.  But she left me with a lasting favorite meal, and a lovely little dish (though I never make hachis for one, it’s just too good).

Hachis Parmentier

French Cottage Pie

2 Tablespoons olive oil

1 medium yellow onion, finely chopped (about 2 cups)

7 slices (about 6 ounces) bacon, finely diced

2 carrots, finely diced (about 1 ½ cups)

2 celery stalks, finely diced (about 1 cup)

4 garlic cloves, finely minced

2 ½ pounds ground beef chuck

1 750 ml bottle of red wine

1 ¼ cup reduced sodium beef broth

2 Tablespoons tomato paste

2 teaspoons sugar

½ teaspoon ground cloves

7-8 generous sprigs fresh thyme

3 bay leaves

4 large russet potatoes (about 3 pounds)

½ cup (1 stick) butter, diced

½ cup dry vermouth

½ cup milk (possibly a bit more)

Salt and pepper to taste

1/3 cup grated parmesan

Preheat the oven to 450°.  First, prep all your vegetables and the bacon.  Now you’re really French-cooking with your mise-en-place.

Pour the oil into a large (5 quart) Dutch oven, then add the finely diced onions. Sauté over medium high heat until the onions start to turn golden and begin to caramelize, about 15 minutes.  Add  ¼ cup of water about halfway through to speed up the process.  When nicely golden, add the diced bacon and sauté for five minutes until it begins to cook.  Add the carrots, then the celery and continue to sauté until the vegetables start to soften and brown.  Stir in the garlic and sauté for about a minute.  Add the ground beef and stir, breaking the meat up into small pieces, until browned and no longer pink.  Carefully drain off any accumulated fat, then return the pot to the heat.  Add the red wine, beef broth, tomato paste, sugar and cloves and stir well to combine.  Drop in all the thyme sprigs (count how many you add so you can remove the stalks later) and the bay leaves. Bring the mixture to a boil, then reduce the heat and simmer, uncovered, for 1 ½ hours, stirring occasionally.

Meanwhile, prick the potatoes all over with a sharp knife and place on the rack in the oven to bake.  Cook until the potatoes are soft when squeezed, about 1 ½ hours.  When the potatoes are done, remove from the oven and carefully, wearing oven mitts or using a folded towel, cut the potatoes in half lengthwise and scoop the flesh into a large bowl.  Add the butter, vermouth and milk and mash with a fork or potato masher until smooth.  Salt to taste (remember that the meat will be flavorful).

When the liquid with the meat is almost completely reduced, with just a little sauce clinging to the meat, remove from the heat. Remove the thyme stalks (the leaves will stay behind) and the bay leaves. Season with salt and pepper to taste.

Scoop the meat filling into an 11 by 7 inch baking dish and spread out to make a smooth top.  Dollop the mashed potatoes over the filling, then spread out to cover the meat.  Using slightly damp fingers is a good way to do this.  Try not to let the meat or sauce poke through the potato topping.  Use a fork to scrape light lines across the smooth top of the potatoes.  This will give a lovely browned crispy effect.  Sprinkle the parmesan over the top.

The hachis parmentier can be cooled, covered and refrigerated for up to two days at this point. When ready to serve, preheat the oven to 350° and cook until heated through, golden with some bubbling around the sides, about 25- 30 minutes.

Serves 6

It’s nice to have a really hearty, hot dip as part of the spread when the ravenous football hordes are hungry. This is a jazzed up version of a classic sausage dip recipe, with warm, winter flavor.  Zesty Italian sausage with the bite of fennel is paired with woodsy sage and creamy, nutty fontina cheese, with a little kick of salty Parmesan to round it out.  Don’t skimp on the sage, as it really sets the tone for this dip.  Serve with hearty crackers, chips or toasted bread rounds, and maybe a knife for spreading should someone prefer to be dainty.

Italian Sausage Dip with Fontina and Sage

1 pound sweet Italian sausage, casings removed

2 cloves garlic

1 generous handful sage leaves, finely chopped

8 ounces cream cheese

4 ounces fontina cheese. grated

8 ounces sour cream

1 ounce parmesan cheese, grated

Break the sausage into small pieces and cook in large sauté pan over medium heat. Use a sturdy spatula or wooden spoon to break the meat up into very small pieces, almost crumbs.  Remember you will be eating this as a dip or spread and big chunks are too hard to eat.  Cook until the sausage is no longer pink.  Put the garlic cloves through a garlic press (or very finely mince them) into the pan, stir and cook for another minute.  Sprinkle half the chopped sage over the sausage and stir until wilted. Drain any excess fat from the pan.  Cut the cream cheese into small cubes and add to the sausage, stirring until it melts.  Add the fontina and stir until the cheese begins to melt and become creamy.  Stir in the sour cream and the remaining sage and cook over medium heat until everything is melted, smooth and bubbly.  Sprinkle over the parmesan cheese and stir.

Transfer the dip to an oven safe baker and serve immediately, or the dip can be cooled and refrigerated overnight at this point.  When ready to serve, heat the dip in a 350° oven until hot through and bubbly, stirring a few times. Serve with crackers, bread rounds or corn chips.

Serves 8 -1 0, can be doubled

Bag omelets, as we call them, are a favorite project for my family.  The family legend behind this is that my Dad was watching some sort of hunting and fishing outdoor program on a Sunday afternoon and they demonstrated these as a campfire cooking idea.  Dad called my Mom into watch, and they were so intrigued, they made them that night.  Well, they couldn’t stop talking about them, and the next weekend had us all over for a bag omelet party.  And so a family tradition was born.

I tell people about these all the time, but when I do, I can see them nod skeptically, and I just know they aren’t going to follow my advice and make them. Recently, I had a dozen gorgeous eggs from the chickens my friend Kristin lovingly raises, so I invited a couple of those skeptical friends for dinner, and they were finally won over.  We all loved our omelets and the chance to get creative.  They immediately started thinking of reasons to make them.

Bag omelets are a great project for any group meal.  Everyone gets their own customized omelet, all ready at the same time.  Interactive food and lots of choice are always popular with the kids in my family.  And bag omelet party is a great way to jazz up a boring weeknight meal with a special breakfast-for-dinner treat.  I can see this as the perfect project if you are stuck in the house on a snow day.  They are a perfect clean-out-the-fridge meal – great during the busy holidays when you have lots of bits and pieces hanging around, or the night after a big party.  Cut up the leftover vegetables from the dip tray, dice the ham or turkey, grate the bits from the cheese platter.

But this is also a great idea for overnight guests, adults or after a kids’ sleepover.  The same goes for an adult dinner party.  Everyone has fun discussing their creations and all the omelets are hot and ready at the same time.  These work equally as well with leftover salami and string cheese as they do with shaved truffles and duck confit. The omelets slide out of the bags as elegant perfectly shaped cylinders. They are perfect on their own, or with some crisp toasted bread or a light salad.

Tips:

Use a big Dutch oven or pot, nonstick if you have it.  Fill the pot about three-quarters full with water.  When you add the bags, the water level will rise, but you want as much water as possible.  It shouldn’t be a problem if a little splashes over the side.

Use freezer safe bags, which are thicker and stand up to the heat.  Don’t use the plastic slider kind, just the press together seals.  You’ll want to squeeze out air so the bags don’t float too much.

Use a permanent marker to write on the bags.  You don’t want the names to wash off – you might get the wrong omelet!

Set the timer and have it ready to start when to omelets hit the water.  Use tongs to lift the bags out of the water onto a plate or platter.

Wear oven mitts or use a towel to protect your hands when opening the bags and sliding out the omelets.

The Ingredients:

You’ll need 2 eggs per person, and I always recommend the best eggs you can find.  If you have a source at the farmers market or a friend for farm fresh eggs, that’s the way to go.  Have a nice selection of protein, vegetables, cheeses, herbs and seasonings.  Cut everything into small pieces, so when they are in the bag, they will mix together well, and be easy to eat.  I could definitely see doing theme nights with bag omelets – all Mexican ingredients or all Italian.  And don’t forget you can add some toppings on the top of the cooked omelet like and extra sprinkle of cheese, a spoonful of salsa or ingredient you may not want cooked in with the eggs, like diced avocado or some crisp diced tomato. Put out some salt and pepper as well, and maybe a few additional seasoning blends.

When I last made these for the photograph above, I created nice little spread of fillings, some grabbed off the salad bar to fill things out, some bits from my fridge.  Here are some ideas from that meal:

diced ham

chopped chicken

chopped shrimp

crumbled bacon

crumbled blue cheese

grated cheddar cheese

finely diced bell peppers

diced red onion

diced mushrooms

salsa

finely chopped sage, parsley and chives

Creole seasoning

Barbecue seasoning

Old Bay

Hot sauce

Salt and pepper

The Directions:

Bring a pot of water to a full boil.  Each omelet-maker should write their name on the outside of a freezer-safe zip top bag.  For each bag omelet, crack two eggs into a bag. Lightly seal the bag and squish the eggs around a bit to break the yolks.

Open the bag and add your choice of ingredients.  Don’t use more filling than egg, you need a good ratio.  Seal the bag three-quarters of the way and press out as much air out as possible, then seal the bag completely.

When everyone has their bags ready, gently lower them into the water, avoiding touching the bags to the side of the pan, and set the timer for 11 minutes.  Use tongs to gently push the bags down into the water if needed.  Do your best to keep the bags from touching the sides of the pot.  I have done as many as 8 bags at a time.

When the timer beeps, remove the bags to a platter.  Let them cool for a minute, then using oven mitts, gently open each bag and slide the omelet out onto a plate.

I am not an overly suspicious person.  Sure, I have my little quirks, but I don’t worry about black cats, walking under ladders, throwing spilled salt over my left shoulder.   But there are a few traditions that I adhere to because, well, it can’t hurt.  Particularly if that tradition involves delicious food.  So on New Year’s Day, I always eat black-eyed peas and greens. For luck and prosperity.  Sometimes I eat them separately, but this gumbo includes all the ingredients for a good year.  The traditional ingredients of good-luck hoppin’ john (rice and black-eyed peas), which is another New Year tradition in the South, plus greens for prosperity.  Here’s a little more information on Southern luck traditions.

This gumbo can be made the day before and reheated, which is a boon if you have been out all night celebrating. Just reheat, cook some rice and add the collards. I highly recommend using smoked ham hock stock.  It really gives the gumbo a smoky, earthy, rich flavor. Making it in the slow cooker is a breeze, and you can do it ahead of time.  If you can’t manage, look for ham stock at some grocery stores, or use the combo of chicken and beef.

Good Luck Gumbo

1 pound smoked sausage, such as kielbasa

2 Tablespoon olive or vegetable oil

1 onion

1 green pepper

4 stalks celery

1 Tablespoon flour

1 teaspoon creole seasoning (I use Tony Chachere’s)

6 cups ham hock stock*, or 4 cups chicken stock and 2 cups beef stock

1 (14.5 ounce) can diced tomatoes

1 pound black-eyed peas, fresh or frozen and thawed

1 ½ cups long grain white rice

3 ½ cups water

Collard leaves

Cut the smoked sausage into bite-size cubes.  Heat the oil in a 5 quart Dutch oven, add the sausage and cook over medium high heat until the sausage begins to brown. Finely chop the onion, seeded bell pepper and celery.  I do this in a small food processor, one vegetable at a time, pulsing to chop the vegetable finely.  Add the “trinity” vegetables to the pot and stir.  Cover the pot and cook for five minutes to soften the vegetables, then remove the cover, stir well and cook until everything is nice and soft and any liquid has evaporated.   Stir in the flour and cook a further minute, then stir in the creole seasoning.  Pour in the stock and the canned tomatoes with their juice.  Bring to a boil and cook for 10 minutes uncovered, reduce to a simmer and cook for 15 minutes. Add the black-eyed peas and continue cooking for another half an hour.  The gumbo should reduce and thicken slightly.  The gumbo can be made up to this point, cooled and refrigerated, covered, overnight.

When ready to serve, cook the rice. Stir the rice into the water in a large saucepan with a tight-fitting lid. Bring to a boil and boil until almost all the water is absorbed and little air bubbles form in the rice, about 10 – 12 minutes, stirring a few times to prevent sticking. Remove from the heat and tightly cover the pan.

Cut the collard leaves in half and cut out the stems.  Stack the leaf halves, three at a time, on top of each other and roll up like a cigar.  Cut the leaves into thin ribbons.  You can further chop the collard ribbons if you’d like.

Heat the gumbo to a low boil over medium high heat.  It will thicken as it sits, but loosen up when heated.  But add a little water if you need to get things moving.  Add the collards, stir, and cover the pot.  Cook until the collards are tender and wilted, about 5 minutes.  Serve over cooked rice.  If you have saved some ham hock meat from making the stock, dice that and stir it into the gumbo as well.  And if you’d like, sprinkle some hot sauce over the gumbo.

*Smoked Ham Hock Stock

Hock Stock is an amazing cooking medium for field peas, beans and greens, as well as a great base for soup or gumbo.  I always look for a naturally smoked hock (not one that has no artificial smoke flavoring added).  I get these from farmers market vendors when I can, and make a batch of stock to freeze.  I can then have to the long, slow cooked taste in quick versions of my favorite southern dishes.

1 large smoked ham hock, cut into three pieces

1 onion

2 carrots

2 celery stalks

1 Tablespoon black pepper corns

3 bay leaves

Place all the ingredients in the crock of a large slow cooker.  Add 10 – 12 cups of water to fill the crock.  Cook on the low setting for 10 – 12 hours.  Strain the solids from the stock and refrigerate for several hours.  When the stock is cold, skim any solidified fat from the top and discard.  Strain the stock through cheesecloth to remove any last bits of debris.

If you’d like, pull the meat from the ham hock pieces and dice. It is a great addition to any soup or beans you are cooking with the stock.

The stock will keep in an airtight container in the fridge for up to a week or can be frozen for up to a year.  The same goes for the hock meat, in a separate container from the stock.

Makes 6 – 8 cups

I love a good pumpkin dish for Halloween, and this one hits all the right notes.  It’s easy to make, reheats well after a busy night trick-or-treating and is packed full of flavor.  It is also a Halloween appropriate blend of orange and black!  And chili is always a crowd pleaser, and extra fun for a gathering if you provide fun toppings to customize each bowl like sour cream, lime, diced avocado, or tortilla chips.  If you are industrious, save the seeds from the pumpkin and toast them with a little salt for a crunchy topper.  You could even serve this chili over rice.  And of course, a wedge of Pumpkin Cornbread would be the perfect accompainment.

Look for small “pie” pumpkins, sometimes labeled sugar pumpkins.  Sorry, but the flesh from your jack-o-lantern won’t work.  Those pumpkins are decorative and have tough flesh with little flavor.  If your market sells pre-cut pumpkin, feel free to use it, and yes, you could substitute pre-cut butternut squash, though that takes out some of the Halloween authenticity. The cinnamon in this chili adds real depth and brings out the flavor of the pumpkin.  It does not make it sweet or taste like cookies, I promise.

A word about chorizo.  For this dish you’ll use the more common Mexican chorizo, which is a soft uncooked sausage, not hard salami-like Spanish chorizo.  I have found that the flavors of readily available chorizo vary enormously.  I recommend a brand made in Mexico, which I find easily at my regular grocery store, or if you can, a freshly made variet from a Hispanic grocer.  Choose mild over spicy if there is an option – you can always add spice, but you can’t take it away. The brand I commonly find is packed with flavor and very spicy, so it requires little else to make this chili pack a punch.  That is why I recommend cooking small bit of the chorizo first and tasting it.  If you find it bland, add chili powder to taste, and even a little hot sauce if you feel the need.

Spicy Chorizo, Pumpkin and Black Bean Chili

2 pounds Mexican chorizo (please read above)

1 yellow onion, finely chopped

4 cups (32-ounce box) chicken broth

1 Tablespoon cinnamon

Chili powder (optional)

3 – 4 pound pie pumpkin

2 (14-ounce) cans black beans, rinsed and drained

Salt and pepper to taste

Topping Ideas:

Sour cream

Lime wedges

Diced avocado

Chopped cilantro

Crumbled cotija or queso fresco cheese

Tortilla chips

Oyster crackers

Toasted pumpkin seeds (pepitas)

Pinch off a small piece of the chorizo and sauté it in a small skillet until cooked through.  Taste the chorizo to determine its flavor and spice level.

Break the chorizo up into a 5-quart Dutch oven and sauté over medium heat, breaking up the meat into small pieces until the bright orange juices are running.  Add the chopped onion and continue cooking, stirring and scraping the bottom of the pan until the onions are soft. Pour in the chicken broth, bring to a boil and reduce the heat to medium-low.  Stir in the cinnamon.  Add chili powder to taste if you feel the chorizo doesn’t have enough flavor and spice.

While the chorizo is simmering, prepare the pumpkin.  Cut the pumpkin in half and scoop out the seeds and fibrous innards.  Cut the halves into quarters and cut away the orange rind and any green-tinged flesh.  Use a very sturdy and sharp knife and go slowly and carefully.  Cut the pumpkin flesh into bite size chunks.  Remember you’ll be eating this with a spoon, so size the pieces accordingly.  Add the pumpkin to the simmering chorizo. Cook for about 10 minutes, then add the drained black beans.  Continue to simmer the chili until the pumpkin is tender and the chili has thickened. Add salt and pepper to taste.

Serve warm with sour cream and fresh limes to squeeze over the chili, and a selection of toppings.  The chili can be made up to 24 hours ahead and gently reheated.

Serves 6 – 8

In my family, when we travel, we all have assignments. Subjects to learn about, information to share with the group.  Yes, homework for vacation.  Laugh all you want, but it has made for some really interesting trips.  I am generally given the topic of food.  I search out restaurants, food customs, typical local fare and markets.  And the training of my family vacations has worn off.  I generally do quite a bit of research before I travel, and always research the food I should be on the lookout for.

Before I traveled to South Africa some years ago, I read about bobotie, a traditional dish with Cape Malay origins. The Cape Malay have East Asian ancestry, so the spices and curries of their heritage have translated into the broader realm of South African cooking. When I first arrived, I started asking, and the friend I was visiting and new friends I met told me that bobotie was really the sort of thing people cooked at home, and they weren’t sure I’d see it on a menu anywhere.  But they gave me a general description of the dish, with a lot of “well, my mom always makes it….”  I of course, took copious notes.  I did eventually have bobotie, as a lunch with a green salad at a game lodge, and served in a charming little ramekin at an elegant country inn in the Cape Winelands.  I picked up a couple of cookbooks that had bobotie recipes as well.  All this proved to me why bobotie is a favorite dish.  I recently spent a wonderful week with a group of South African friends, and when asked what they considered a true South African dish, they all said bobotie.  It reminded me how delicious this dish is, and how easy it is to make a flavorful, exotic meal that’s a departure from our standard fare.  I bet you’ll want to add it into regular meal rotation.

I have combined my preferred features from my bobotie research for my recipe, and adapted it a little to what’s readily available to me.  Some recipes I gathered use only lamb, or only beef, but I like the depth of a combined version. South Africa offers a wide and varied selection of chutneys, and I have been admonished that a good bobotie is all about a good chutney.  I find the easily accessible Major Grey type chutney a perfect choice.

Bobotie (South African Curried Beef and Lamb Casserole)

If you have a large oven-to-table casserole dish, you can make this in one pan.

2 small onions, finely diced

2 Tablespoons olive oil

1 pound ground lamb

1 pound ground beef

2 Tablespoons curry powder

3 slices white sandwich bread, crusts removed, torn into cubes

1¼ cup buttermilk

1 cup seedless golden raisins

2 Tablespoons fresh lemon juice

1 Tablespoon apricot jam

2 Tablespoons mango chutney (such as Major Grey)

3 large eggs

salt and pepper to taste

bay leaves

Preheat the oven to 350 degrees.

Heat the oil in a large pan over medium heat. Add onion and sauté until soft and pale golden.  Stir in one Tablespoon curry powder and stir to combine.  Add lamb and beef and cook until just browned, breaking up the meat with a sturdy spatula.  Remove from heat to cool a little.

In a small bowl, place bread cubes and buttermilk.  Leave to soak for 5 minutes.  Using your clean hands, squeeze the bread to remove as much buttermilk as possible.  Reserve the remaining buttermilk.

Add the soaked bread, raisins, lemon juice, jam, chutney and the remaining Tablespoon of curry powder to the meat and onion mixture.  Add salt and pepper to taste and stir to mix completely. Transfer the meat mixture to an 5 quart inch casserole dish, spreading it out evenly.

Beat the eggs into the reserved buttermilk with a dash of salt and pepper.  Pour over the meat mixture in the casserole.  Stuff a few bay leaves into the meat.  If using fresh leaves, roll them up like cigars, dried ones can just be stuffed down into the mixture. Bake the bobotie for 30 minutes until the top is golden brown and set.

Serve warm, with additional mango chutney as an accompaniment.

Serves 6

I am a newcomer to Corned Beef and Cabbage.  I have generally enjoyed my corned beef deli sliced on a sandwich and my cabbage in slaw.  My father is a big fan of corned beef and cabbage, but somehow it hadn’t trickled down to me.  I had certainly thought about developing a recipe for St. Patrick’s Day, but hadn’t gotten around to it.  Then, this winter, I was invited to a friend’s house for dinner, one of those fun nights when everyone contributes an element to the meal. One guest brought the appetizer – thinly sliced corned beef, perfectly cooked, served with dark bread and a variety of mustards.  It was gone as quick as it was put out.  And of course, I begged her corned beef cooking secrets.  She laid out the boiling and steaming method laid out here, and I knew I had to give it a try.  Okay, I did veer of her path a little by adding beer and some spices, but this method creates a tender corned beef proclaimed by my dad “a triumph.”

While making my second test round of the dish, I happened to be reading the book 97 Orchard about immigrant families in New York bringing the traditions of their home countries to their adopted home.  As the corned beef boiled, I read the section on Irish cooking, and learned that, counter to the popular tale that corned beef and cabbage is a purely American creation, it is in fact an old Irish tradition, and that Irish corned beef was packed for long voyages across the Atlantic in the days of the Pilgrims.  I’ve added my own culinary heritage with the bacon-braised cabbage of the South, and the final product is a real treat. 

Corned Beef and Cabbage Cooked in Beer

1 3 – pound thin cut corned beef brisket

1 (12-ounce) bottle pale ale or beer

3 bay leaves

1 teaspoon black peppercorns

1 teaspoon brown mustard seeds

1 medium head green cabbage

3 strips bacon, or 2 Tablespoons bacon grease

Discard any seasoning packet that comes with the corned beef. Rinse the corned beef and place in a large Dutch oven.  Pour in the beer and add enough water to cover the meat.  Drop in the bay leaves, peppercorns and mustard seeds.  Bring to a boil over medium heat, skimming off any scum that rises to the top.  Lower the heat to medium low, cover the pot and cook at a low boil for 3 hours, adding more water to cover the meat as needed.

Preheat the oven to 300 degrees.  When the meat has boiled, remove it from the pan to the rack of a roasting try. I use the one that came with my oven, which has a nice deep try and a slotted top rack.  Reserve all the cooking liquid.  Fill the bottom tray with as much of the cooking liquid as will fit without touching the meat.  Cover the whole very tightly with foil, sealing well.  The meat is meant to steam, so you don’t want the steam to escape. Cook for 2 hours.

Meanwhile, pour the remaining cooking liquid into a bowl or large measuring jug and put in the fridge.  Rinse out the Dutch oven.

When the corned beef has steamed for two hours, remove it from the oven and leave it covered until ready to carve. 

About 30 minutes before you’re ready to serve, cook the cabbage.  Skim any fat off the top of the reserved cooking liquid from them meat. Cook the bacon strips in the Dutch oven until crispy, or simply melt the bacon fat over medium-high heat. When the bacon is cooked, remove it to paper towels to save for another use and discard all but about 2 Tablespoons of fat.  Prepare the cabbage by removing the dark, outer leaves from the cabbage.  Then cut the head in half and remove the core.  Quarter the cabbage and cut each quarter into strips about ¼ inch wide.  Drop the cabbage strips into the hot bacon fat, riffling it to separate the leaves.  Quickly stir the cabbage to coat it in the bacon grease, cover the pot, and cook for about 5 minutes, stirring halfway.  Pour in 1 – 1 ½ cups of the reserved cooking liquid, stir well, cover the pot and cook for about 10 minutes.  Feel free to cook the cabbage for more or less time, depending on how you like your cabbage – a little but crisp, or completely wilted.  Salt to taste.

When ready to serve, unwrap the meat, remove to a carving board.  Carefully cut off any fat from the top of the corned beef, then slice into thin slices.  Some of the meat may crumble off.  No worries, eat that as is or stir it into the cabbage.

Serves 6 -8, with some leftovers for sandwiches

Keep the St. Patrick’s Day spirit going with some Champ: Irish Mashed Potatoes with Green Onions or some Kiss Me, I’m Irish Cookies!