‘How often do you win at solitaire?” I asked my husband who had a round of it up on his computer screen.
“A lot,” he said.
“Really?”
“Yeah, I cheat.”
“How do you cheat at computer solitaire?”
“Well, for one thing, I bring cards back down.”
“That’s cheating?” I was incredulous.
“Yes. Plus, sometimes I flip all the way through the deck to see what’s coming up.”
Again, “That’s cheating?”
I guess there are plenty of times in life when doing what needs to be done to accomplish a given goal would be considered cheating. But in the food world, that’s how recipes are born.
Take sauerkraut. How much rotting cabbage ended up in the compost heap every autumn before folks figured out that if it was shredded, mixed with a bit of salt and maintained at a cool temperature for a few weeks, they’d essentially trick Mother Nature into producing a glorious pickled product that would see them through winter?
And who’s to say that french-cut green beans weren’t designed to beat the seven-minute rule?
You see, to preserve the bright green color during cooking you have a short window to tenderize green vegetables before the boiling water reacts with the heat-sensitive chlorophyll within the vegetable. The longer the exposure, the more dramatic the change in color from lovely green to sickly green.
So for mature beans, by slicing them into slender strips, they’ll cook faster and look prettier. Plus, they hold lots more melted butter.
Of course, whenever you lose control of a given recipe, there’s no rule stating that you have to ‘fess up to dinner guests that part of their meal took a horrible turn. I usually rename the dish and serve it with a smile.
Green beans gone south in the color department? Sprinkle some cheese on top, pass them under the broiler and voila, green beans gratin.
And speaking of recipes gone awry, there’s no doubt in my mind that the first Italian-style omelette was the accidental creation of a Sicilian mama. Midway through preparations for scrambled eggs in which she was using up all the stray little bits of vegetables and cheese in her refrigerator, she had to attend to her crying infant.
Upon returning to the stove, she was dismayed to find that the eggs which she had already poured into the skillet were set, and the various chunks of vegetable cemented into place. But her frustration would have quickly turned to delight when she reasoned that although failing miserably at what she had set out to do, she had invented a simple egg and vegetable pie.
She served it to the family in generous wedges, they oohed and ahhed, and the frittata was born, thanks to one cook with enough culinary confidence to sell the sizzle.
Green bean saute with wine and prosciutto
1pound fresh green beans, french-cut
1cup chopped sweet onion, such as a Walla Walla Sweet
1/2cup chopped prosciutto
2tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil
1/2cup chicken broth
1/4cup dry white wine (such as pinot blanc or pinot gris)
1tablespoon lemon juice
Salt and pepper to taste
Drop the beans in a large pot of boiling water. As soon as the water returns to a boil, simmer, uncovered, for 2 to 3 minutes – just until the beans are just becoming tender. Remove the beans from the burner, strain through a colander and immediately plunge them into a large bowl of cold water to stop the cooking process and set the color; drain well and set aside or proceed with the recipe.
When ready to serve, Saute the onions and prosciuto in a very large frying pan with the 2 tablespoons of olive oil until the onions are soft, about 3 minutes. Add the beans and continue to saute for about 20 seconds, then pour on the broth and cook over high heat until the broth has reduced slight, about 1 minute.
Add the wine, lemon juice, salt and pepper to taste and serve immediately.
Makes 4 servings.
Although considered a California classic, Caesar salad actually originated at Caesar’s Place, a restaurant in Tijuana, Mexico. It dates to Prohibition days when movie stars headed south of the border on weekends to party.
Jonathan Norton Leonard, in “American Cooking: The Great West,” writes: “… On the evening of July 4, 1924, Caesar Cardini’s restaurant almost ran out of food. The local stores were either cleaned out or closed, and Caesar desperately took inventory of his storeroom. All he found was crates of romaine lettuce (in those days a little-known delicacy), a huge slab of Romano cheese, some bread, some bottles of olive oil and half a crate of eggs.”
Cardini quickly assembled all of these ingredients for a salad, then sent his dining room captains out to the tables with salad bowls and those rummaged ingredients, to make a show of the salad preparation.
Cardini’s attitude was, “Give the show people a little show and they’ll never realize it’s only salad.”
Well, the show people were so delighted that they didn’t ask for anything else, and the fame of Caesar’s salad spread across the country.
Authentic Caesar salad
21/2cups 1/2-inch white bread cubes (either French or Italian or another firm-textured white bread)
1/3cup plus 1 tablespoon fruity extra-virgin olive oil
1large clove garlic, peeled and halved lengthwise
1large head romaine, washed, spun dry, and crisped in the refrigerator
1/2teaspoon salt
1/4teaspoon black pepper
1soft-boiled (1 minute) egg, or 1/4 cup frozen egg product, thawed
3tablespoons fresh lemon juice
1/2teaspoon Worcestershire sauce
1/4cup freshly grated Romano cheese
Preheat oven to 450 degrees. Toss bread cubes with 1 tablespoon olive oil in large bowl, then spread on baking sheet. Bake, uncovered, 8 to 10 minutes, turning occasionally, until uniformly golden brown. Drain on paper towels and reserve.
Rub large wooden salad bowl well with garlic; discard garlic, Break romaine into bowl in bite-size pieces, drizzle with remaining 1/3 cup olive oil, and sprinkle with salt and pepper.
Break egg into bowl or drizzle egg product evenly over greens. Pour lemon juice over greens combined with Worcestershire sauce. Sprinkle in cheese.
Toss until every leaf glistens, top with croutons, toss again, then serve.
Note: An alternative – easier – way to dress the salad is simply to whisk together until creamy the lemon juice, soft-boiled egg or egg substitute, Worcestershire, salt and pepper. Add remaining 1/3 cup olive oil in a fine stream, whisking vigorously until creamy. Finally, mix in cheese. Pour dressing over romaine in large bowl and toss until well coated. Top with croutons, toss again, and serve.
Final note on serving: The original Caesar was made with only the inner, pale green and most crispy leaves of the romaine and was meant to be eaten with the fingers. That certainly is an option!
Recipe from “American Century Cookbook,” by Jean Anderson
What makes this frittata different is the bread. It soaks up the egg and cream and gives the frittata a firm but still tender texture. It also makes it easier to slide onto a serving plate, if that’s how you want to serve it.
Potato and pepper frittata
1large (about 10 ounces) baking potato, unpeeled
12large eggs
1/3cup heavy cream
Salt
Freshly ground black pepper
11/3cups cubed (1-inch) day-old Italian or French bread, crusts removed
3tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil
1onion, cut into 1/2-inch strips
1red and 1 green sweet bell pepper, cored, seeded, and cut into 1/4-inch slices
1/4cup shredded fresh basil
1tablespoons butter (preferably unsalted)
Optional garnishes: 1 cup shredded provolone cheese; sliced tomatoes
Put the potato in a medium saucepan and pour in enough cold salted water to cover by at least 2 inches. Bring to a boil, and boil until the potato is tender, about 30 minutes. Remove and let stand until cool enough to peel. Peel the potato and cut it into 1/2-inch thick slices
Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Beat the eggs, heavy cream, and salt and pepper to taste in a large bowl. Add the bread cubes and let soak until softened, about 20 minutes.
Heat 2 tablespoons of the olive oil in a 10-inch cast-iron or nonstick skillet with a heatproof handle over medium heat. Add the onion and cook until wilted, about 4 minutes. Add the peppers and basil and cook, stirring until the peppers are softened but crisp-tender, about 5 minutes. Season well with salt and pepper. Stir the sliced potato into the skillet gently. Add the butter and the remaining 1 tablespoon of oil to the skillet, and heat until the butter is foaming.
Add the egg mixture to the pan and cook, still over medium heat, without stirring, just until the bottom is lightly browned, about 5 minutes. There should be a few bubbles at a time around the edges – any more than that means the frittata is cooking too quickly and the bottom will be too brown. In that case, remove the skillet from the heat, reduce the heat, and let the skillet sit for a minute or two before returning it to the heat.
Transfer the skillet to the oven and cook just until the center is set – firm to the touch – about 25 minutes. If the edges are set and beginning to brown before the center is set, remove the frittata from the oven and finish the frittata under a preheated broiler. Sprinkle on the shredded provolone and let it melt or run it under the broiler to lightly brown the cheese.
If you’d like to serve the frittata hot, let it stand at room temperature about 15 minutes. If you prefer it warm or at room temperature, let it stand a little longer. Run a rubber spatula around the edges of the frittata and shake the pan gently to free the bottom of the frittata.
You can serve the frittata right out of the pan or slide it out onto a serving platter. Arrange a few sliced tomatoes along side each serving.
Makes 6 servings.
Recipe adapted from “Lidia’s Italian-American Kitchen,” by Lidia Matticchio Bastianich
Jan Roberts-Dominguez is a Corvallis, Ore., food writer, cookbook author and artist. Readers can contact her by e-mail at janrd@proaxis.com.
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