Chef: Fortunato Nicotra, Executive Chef of Felidia in NYC

On February 1, 2012, I did day 5 of my internship at the James Beard House. It was the most interesting day for me thus far. First, I signed into the volunteer log book as usual. The log book has a column for the chef/event, for the volunteer’s name and signature, time in/out, and one for the volunteer’s school. I saw that another volunteer had already signed it and in the school column, it said “NG.” That meant Natural Gourmet. I haven’t seen another NGI student at JBH—most of the volunteers are either from ICE or FCI (Institute for Culinary Education and French Culinary Institute). When she walked back in, I introduced myself and found out that she graduated a couple of years ago and is now doing well with a catering and home-delivery business. (Shout out to Amy!) She lives in Western New York State and just happened to be in NYC this particular weekend and decided to volunteer.

Then, the chef and his crew arrived a short while later and as they came in, I immediately recognized one of them. She was another NGI alumnus, who graduated a few months ago, and I had helped out with her Friday Night Dinner. (Report on that FND HERE.) She interned at Felidia, which turned into a job. How about that for a coincidence? So, not only were there 3 NGI graduates there (when I was usually the only one), but one was a member of the chef’s crew, and I had actually worked on her Friday Night Dinner. I mean, I could have worked any Friday Night Dinner over the course of 11 months, and I happened to choose that person’s FND, and then encounter this person on a JBH shift of my choosing. What a small, weird world it is. (Shout out to Debbie!)

That was pretty cool. But my night became even more dramatic when, just prior to the guests arriving, two women walked in and leaned against the counter. Since all guests have to walk through the kitchen to get to the dining room, I really didn’t pay attention. I was busy spooning broccoli rabe into little shot glasses. I looked up briefly and one of the women smiled and said, “Hello.” I said, “Hello” and continued with my task. A moment later, I looked up again and it dawned on me that the other woman was Lidia Bastianich. I almost lost my broccoli rabe. Holy crap. Then I realized that the woman who had said “Hello” was her daughter, Tanya. And me without a camera! Doh!

They stood there and watched for a while as Amy and I helped the chef de cuisine (whose name I, unfortunately, missed) make little parfait hors d’oeuvres of ricotta, broccoli rabe, and saba. Lidia was watching me so I was as precise as I could possibly be. She and her daughter then went up to the private dining room and the rush of guests began.

I cut up burrata for a burrata and tomato salad. Burrata in Italian means “buttered,” and it is so named because it is made up of an exterior shell of mozzarella filled with a mixture of soft mozzarella and cream, making the texture buttery. I also sliced and speared salami with little wooden forks, dabbed homemade mustard with mustard seeds on them, and topped them with a homemade salsa of some sort (it looked like apple or pear and some root vegetables). I arranged them on a rectangular platter, the center of which Chef adorned with thinly shaved Grana Padano (my favorite grating cheese).

As usual, I didn’t get to sample everything because first priority is plating for the guests. If there’s anything left over, the staff gets to eat it. Unfortunately, there isn’t always food leftover, or it disappears before I get to grab some.

I absolutely wanted to try the Butternut Squash-Chocolate Ravioli with Butter-Sage Sauce, so I kept an eye on it. When all the servings were plated, there was plenty left for us, and I dove right in. The ravioli were absolutely divine. You would never have known that they were gluten-free. The dough was tender and fluffy, but firm enough to hold the filling, which was a delicious squash puree. The sauce was probably a thousand calories but it was luxurious. The tops of the ravioli got a generous dusting of ground pistachios. It was an extremely indulgent dish.

During the introduction/Q&A part of the evening (when everyone makes their appearance in the dining room for a round of applause from the guests), someone asked about the ravioli. Chef Fortunato talked about the process of coming up with a good gluten-free pasta that was superior to the stuff you find in the markets, but I don’t think he actually said what combination of flours they used. I think one of them was rice. I’d love to get my hands on the recipe. (Hint, hint, Chef Fortunato.)

I also tasted the beef duo of Braised Flatiron and Steak Tagliata, which were both tender and so flavorful, and I loved the Mashed Spinach and Potatoes. They were fluffy and smooth and delicious.

The cookie plates were adorable, and there were also little chocolate cakes adorned on the plate with a pistachio brittle that was worthy of a plate of their own. I never seem to be able to taste the ice cream at any of these dinners.

When dessert had been served, we were ushered up to the fourth floor, where Lidia and her guests awaited in the private dining room. I was so excited to be standing there in front of Lidia, who had obviously enjoyed the meal. The meal I helped plate! (Still getting over that.) On her way out a while later, she stated that everyone had done a great job. Of course, it was meant mostly for the main crew, but she did look at me, too, and I decided to bask in it anyway.

I truly wish I’d remembered my camera. My phone camera is completely inadequate. However, the evening’s official photographer is a great person. I had met her a couple of events ago and I will be asking her for photos of both events. I’ll put a link here when the photos are available.

I really, really need a new camera.

Menu

Hors d’Oeuvre

Beef Tartare
Burrata and Tomatoes with Balsamic Vinegar
Local Salami
Bagna Cauda with Vegetables
Ricotta, Broccoli Rabe, and Saba
Flor Prosecco NV

Dinner

Mediterranean Shrimp Salad with Toscanello Beans, Marinated Anchovies, and Tuna and Branzino Carpaccio
Bastianich Adriatico Friulano 2010

Butternut Squash–Chocolate Ravioli with Butter–Sage Sauce
Bastianich Vespa Bianco 2009

Vacche Rosse Parmigiano-Reggiano Risotto with Pear and Celery
Bastianich Vespa Bianco 2009

Beef Duo: Braised Flatiron and Steak Tagliata with Mashed Spinach and Potatoes and Braised Red Cabbage
Benanti Rovittello 2005

Poached Quince, Almond, and Frangipane Tart with Bourbon–Maple Syrup Ice Cream
Benanti Il Musico Moscato Passito NV

Assorted Cookies

Maine

Chef Kaldrovich had an interesting journey from his homeland of Argentina to the outskirts of Portland, Maine. If I remember the story correctly, he was born in Russia to a German father and Italian mother, grew up in Argentina, and worked in Argentina, Patagonia, Australia, and Lake Tahoe, where he met his future wife. When he attended a French culinary school in Argentina, he was introduced to the wonders of seafood. As he put it, the word “scallop” in Argentina brings to mind “a picture of the shell,” not the mollusk itself. He heard of lobster thermidor for the very first time and became acquainted with seafood cuisine. Then, while working at Lake Tahoe, he worked with Maine lobster, Maine shrimp, and other seafood that came from Maine, and he fell in love with it all. So, when he and his wife talked about where they wanted to live, Maine seemed the logical choice.

And, so, the menu that he presented at the James Beard House was a seafood menu infused with Argentinean influence. His roots show, even through ingredients that were not part of his world view while he was growing up.

I told him that I have roots in Argentina as well, in a roundabout way. My parents lived there for a number of years and my brother was born there. They didn’t come to the U.S. until he was about 6 years old. Consequently, my mother’s food was always Italian (of course) but accented with Argentinean preparations. Chef Kaldrovich said that Argentinean cuisine is partly Italian, anyway. That is true.

Lobster Empanada

While I am, admittedly, not the biggest seafood fan, I am fascinated by Argentinean cuisine, mostly because I ate it growing up without really knowing that I was eating it. It’s a lot like the way I enjoy picking out the Spanish words/phrases from the language I spoke at home—I had always just assumed was pure Italian, but after I took Spanish in school, I began to realize that what we spoke was actually more like “Italglish”—Italian, English, and Spanish. When I began doing research on Italian cuisine for my first cookbook, What, No Meat? Traditional Italian Cooking the Vegetarian Way, and international cuisines for my second book (not out yet), I saw the Argentinean influence in my mother’s cooking. I now enjoy picking out the Argentinean dishes and ingredients from the food I ate, which I assumed was purely Italian.

His Corn–Lobster Empanadas were delectable, and his lobster bisque was visually appealing with the squirt of lobster oil on top. The Malbec mustard was a condiment that I coveted (I’ll have to work on a recipe for that). He also made a vegetarian version of the Slow-Braised Beef Tripe Stew because he had received ahead of time a request for a couple of vegetarian plates (although, it became a chaotic string of last-minute requests for no dairy, no garlic, no fish). I tried it and it reminded me of a stew that seems to be universal around the world, differing in spices. The squash and the garbanzos and beans reminded me of North African Squash Stew, as well as Italian Squash and Bean Stew. It was beautiful to look at, but it also had a comforting, homey quality to it.

Personality-wise, I found Chef Kaldrovich to be really nice and he obviously loves what he does and loves being in the kitchen. And I think he loves to make his crew smile.

Bread Pudding

Here is the full menu, along with the wines that were served. More photos HERE:

Hors d’Oeuvre

Oysters
Lobster Bisque
Poultry Liver Crostini
Corn–Lobster Empanadas
Maine Crab and Apples on Endive
Il Faggeto Prosecco NV

Dinner

Fern Hill Farm Goat Cheese Croquette with Beet Tartare

Butter-Poached Lobster and Tender Gnocchi with Baby Turnips, Chantenay Carrots, and Tarragon Beurre Monté
Manos Negras Torrontés 2010

Slow-Braised Beef Tripe Stew with Pork Belly Confit, Sugar Pumpkin, Garbanzo and White Beans, and Sofrito
Lake Sonoma Winery Chardonnay 2010

Serrano-Wrapped Salmon Roast with Grilled Leek–Seaweed Stuffing, Confit Roots, Organic Quinoa, and Malbec Mustard
MacMurray Ranch Sonoma Coast Pinot Noir 2009

Gaucho Mixed Grill > Grilled Dry-Aged Beef Strip Steak with Chimichurri, Herb-Roasted Sweetbreads with Balsamic Syrup, and Housemade Sausage with Salsa Criolla
Crios de Susana Balbo Malbec 2009

Caramelized Chocolate Bread Pudding with Dulce de Leche Gelato, Hazelnut Brittle, and Espresso Chantilly
Churchill’s 20-Year-Old Tawny Porto NV

The event was a two-day affair in Bryant Park in midtown Manhattan. It was a snowy, cold day and while it brought out the skaters to the ice rink (CitiPond), it kept away a lot of visitors from the festival, which was a shame. They had prepared for 50 children per event, and the numbers were nowhere near that. The most kids I saw at any demo/performance were perhaps 20. But there was a nice cross-section of kids. They ranged in age from toddler to teen; they were black, white, and Asian; and I even saw a couple of kids who, I had reason to believe, had two daddies. These are all good things.

Although there was a lot of frenzied running around, it seemed that they really didn’t have a whole lot for the volunteers to do. I tried to brave out the cold in my chef jacket, in an attempt to maintain a professional appearance at all times. I even helped deliver trays of prepped foods from the event services pavilion to the main building, where they were doing other demos, with no coat.

After a while, another volunteer and I were assigned to the stage tent to help out with the demos. The stage tent was one of those temporary metal-and-Plexiglas structures, and although they had heaters in there, it was absolutely freezing. Over time, I slowly donned parts of my outwear: first my gloves, then my hat, and after about 2 hours, I couldn’t take it any more and finally put on my coat. And despite the fact that I was wearing my snow boots, my toes were frozen after several hours. I eyed the main building, a café/lounge called Celcius, with envy, wishing that I’d been assigned to the demos in there.

The first demo I assisted in was “Avocados From Mexico: Guacamole Mashing with Cricket Azima.” Cricket Azima is a co-founder of the Kids Food Fest and The Creative Kitchen. I had gone in with my knife roll across my back, kind of like an arrow quiver; Cricket told me to put the knives down so as not to scare the kids (not that they would have known that there were knives in there.) Kids were given plastic bags with an avocado and some tomato. The other volunteer and I handed out the bags, along with limes, cilantro, and salt. The kids squeezed the limes into their bags (or their parents did), pinched off the cilantro leaves, and grabbed a pinch of salt, sealed the bags, and then squished everything together with their hands. Then they got to eat it with sweet potato chips.

Next up was “Table Time with Mr. Manners,” hosted by Tom Farley, an etiquette specialist. He engaged the kids in a talk about table manners and the kids’ answers to his questions were pretty cute. For example, he asked them to name some bad table manners, and one kid responded, “No spitting on the table.”

I was interested in “Akiko Thurnauer: Japanese Onigiri Rice Balls,” Chef Akiko and her sous chef taught the audience how to make Japanese rice balls by hand and by using a mold (which actually yielded rice rolls). One of the ingredients she used was red shiso, which is often referred to as Japanese basil. It did have a basil-like flavor, crossed with maybe oregano. Green shiso, also called perilla, is part of the same as basil, but red shiso is another type called akajiso, and is used to dye umeboshi, which are pickled ume plums. (We used a lot of umeboshi paste and vinegar quite a bit at The Natural Gourmet Institute. The medicinal benefits of umeboshi is the subject of another blog. Stay tuned.)

I took a break during “Circus Balancing,” as it did not require any culinary assistance. Cricket was up next with “Snack Time Choices.” At that point, I could no longer feel my toes and decided that 6 hours was enough for me.

All in all, it wasn’t the culinary experience I’d hoped it would be, but it was educational to see the behind-the-scenes activities of an event like this. Well, at least I got a few Clif Bars out of the deal.

A block away from Broadway Panhandlers, I spotted a Financiers, a French coffee/pastry shop, on Astor Place. There’s a Financiers around the corner from my school and I had stopped in there just about every week for a cup of Saturday afternoon coffee, but I had never tried one of their baked goods. So, here was my opportunity. I walked in and checked out the selection in the display case, and found it oddly sparse. I don’t know if this was normal for a Saturday afternoon or if they had gotten a huge influx of people stopping in for something warm and a bite to eat on this bitter January day, but there was not much of a selection. I almost walked out.

Then something caught my eye. Something labeled a galette de rois. With my very limited knowledge of French, I knew that this meant “king cake,” which was reinforced in my mind when I realized what time of the year it was.

King Cake is puff pastry filled with frangipane cream and is associated with the Christian festival of Epiphany. The feast of the Epiphany, traditionally falling on January 6, is the celebration of the revelation of Christ in human form. For Christians in the Western world, this more specifically celebrates the visitation of the Three Kings on the Baby Jesus, which is why the holiday also goes by the name of Three Kings Day. In the East, it revolves around the baptism of Jesus in the Jordan River. In the United States, the king cake is also eaten in celebration of Mardi Gras, as it is wherever Carnival takes place. Traditionally, a little ceramic baby (representing the Baby Jesus), or some other trinket, is baked inside the cake. The person who gets the little prize is responsible for hosting the following year’s Epiphany celebration. The English tradition is to put a bean in the cake, which is why it also goes by the name Bean Cake. (By the way, there’s a different kind of king cake that is actually a stuffed bread and which is decorated with bright Mardi Gras-type colors. That’s not the kind of king cake I’m talking about.) In the French tradition, a large king cake is topped with a paper crown.

Love Live the King

When I stepped onto my train, I sat down and reached into my bag for a bite of my galette de rois. I tried to break off a mouthful but as I pinched the crisp pastry, I discovered that it was so flaky that it crumbled in my fingers. And it was so buttery that my fingers came away with the pastry glued to my fingers. I knew that if I made any further attempts at breaking off a piece, I would be covered in puff pastry flakes. My king cake had to wait until I got home.

So, now I was home. I made myself some espresso and cut into my cake. The flakey layers crackled slightly as the knife went through them, which promised me a light crunch between my teeth. I wasn’t disappointed. The puff pastry was indeed light, flaky, and buttery, but not sickeningly so (when something is too buttery, it makes me nauseated). The frangipane cream was sweet but not cloying, and had floral, fruity notes. Frangipane is an almond pastry cream made from butter, eggs, sugar, and almonds. It is sometimes enhanced by almond or vanilla extract, or other flavorings. It was really a delicious dessert.  

If you want to try making king cake yourself, it’s really quite easy, and here’s a recipe that I made up myself. Although king cake is usually for the Epiphany, I think it will go over very well any time of year.

Galette de Rois (King Cake)*

Frangipane Cream
1/2 cup ground almonds
½ cup softened butter
2/3 cup organic sugar
1 egg
1/2 teaspoon almond or vanilla extract

1 package puff pastry (thawed if frozen)
1 egg

1. Preheat oven to 425 degrees.

2. Combine all frangipane cream ingredients in a food processor and process until smooth and creamy.

3. Cut four 4-inch circles in the puff pastry sheet. Place two of them on a baking sheet lined with parchment paper.

4. Place equal amounts of the cream in the center of the two circles. Top each one with the remaining puff pastry rounds. Pinch them gently around the edges to seal.

5. Beat the egg with a little water and brush the egg wash over the tops of each galette.

6. Bake for about 30 minutes, or until golden brown. If it gets too dark too fast, lower the heat to 350 and continue baking for 10 to 15 minutes.

* For a traditional celebration, make several batches and place a little ceramic baby, bean or trinket in one of them. Share them with family and friends and whoever gets the prize will have to make them next year. You can also make little paper crowns and top each cake with one.

Because I grew up on Italian food, I know what constitutes a good Italian meal. I know what quality is and what authentic is. And because I am somewhat of a food historian (that means I’ve read a lot about the history of food, not that I have a degree in it or anything), I also know why certain dishes exist, how they came to be. This all makes me very, very picky about Italian food. Given a choice, I almost never choose to go out to an Italian restaurant. Most of them fall short of my standards. The majority of Italian restaurants are cookie-cutter versions of what people think Italians restaurants should be. The menus rarely vary: chicken Francaise, veal parmigiana, spaghetti with meatballs (NOT an authentic dish, by the way), shrimp marinara, baked ziti, etc. Not that there’s anything wrong with these dishes. They are often made in Italian-American homes and they make great comfort food. But it’s always the same from restaurant to restaurant. What’s worse is that some restaurants don’t even do them well. When one stands out, I take notice.

This is changing, however. The draw of eateries accessorized by checkered tablecloths, Chianti bottles with candles stuck in them, and drawings of big, fat chefs with cheesy mustaches, and punctuated by squeeze-box music coming through the speakers, is weakening. More and more people are looking for authentic ethnic cuisines, and ristorantes that boast authentic Italian cuisine are popping up all over the place with the mission of showing Americans what eating in Italy is really like. Some places shoot for gourmet Italian. Babbo, for example, Mario Batali’s eatery in Greenwich Village, showcases high-end, off-the-grid Italian food, such as Pig Foot “Milanese,” Chianti Stained Pappardelle with Wild Boar Ragu, and Deconstructed Osso Buco for Two with Saffron Orzo, Cavolo Nero and Chestnut Gremolata for a hefty $75. These types of places are where one goes for an “experience.”

Then there are places like Aunt Suzie’s, which offer more than the typical cookie-cutter menus but whose dishes are recognizable and agreeable to most people’s palates. These are the places one goes to for a good meal in comfortable setting. Aunt Suzie’s had the usual stuff that people expect, such as eggplant parmigiana and chicken marsala, but then there were the “outside the box” menu items that really highlighted the diversity of Italian cuisine. I’m not talking about anything that was especially unique to Aunt Suzie’s but that are unique to restaurants that want to offer something more.

For example, caponata is a pretty typical Italian appetizer, yet not many Italian restaurants have it on their menus. Aunt Suzie’s had it. Caponata is a sweet and sour relish-like dish that goes beautifully on crostini or focaccia. (Below is my recipe for caponata, as it appears in my cookbook, What, No Meat? Traditional Italian Cooking the Vegetarian Way.) They also offered dishes such as Salmon in Vodka Sauce, Brandy Orange Chicken, and Fresh Spinach Fettuccine in a tomato-mushroom sauce. One of my favorite items was the Honey Roasted Pear, Goat Cheese, and Walnut Salad served over mixed greens. This salad was sprinkled with toasted pine nuts and dressed with a light vinaigrette and was utterly divine.

One of the best things they offered was a plate of roasted pepper dip on the table with a variety of fresh breads. This stuff was addictive. The last time I was there was for a friend’s birthday and someone else at the table told me that I should buy the restaurant. I proclaimed that the only reason she wanted me to do that was so that I could keep the roasted red pepper dip coming. But I don’t have to go to that extreme—I got the recipe. HA! Well, the basic ingredients, anyway. I’ll be working on that.

I was never crazy about their style of service where plating was concerned, though. They often put sides, especially vegetables, in a separate plate, which always strikes me as cafeteria-style service. And they never took reservations, which was frustrating when someone wanted to plan and event (a birthday, anniversary, etc.) because you never knew how long you’d have to wait. Other than that, I really don’t have anything bad to say about the place. The servers were usually friendly and the portions were more than satisfying. Although I will say that a friend complained that the last couple of times that they ordered pasta, it was overcooked. Since I rarely order pasta in a restaurant (homemade “pillows” at Lidia’s Felidia being an example exception), I have no opinion on the matter.

Well, goodbye to Aunt Suzie’s. You will be missed.

Thank god L&B Spumoni Gardens is still around.

Caponata

Copyright © Roberta Roberti. All rights reserved.

3/4 cup olive oil
1 cup chopped onion
½ cup sliced celery
1 cup chopped fresh fennel
2 large garlic cloves, minced
1 small eggplant (about 1 pound), diced
3 small zucchini, scraped and diced
1 cup sliced mushrooms
2 large tomatoes, peeled, seeded, and diced
½ cup pimento olives, sliced
½ cup balsamic vinegar
3 teaspoons sugar
2 teaspoons salt
1/4 teaspoon black pepper

Heat the oil in a large pan over medium heat. Add the onion, celery, fennel, and garlic and sauté, stirring occasionally, until they are tender, about 7 to 10 minutes. Add the eggplant, zucchini, and mushrooms; cover the pan and cook until the vegetables are tender, about 10 minutes.

Add the tomatoes, olives, vinegar, sugar, salt, and pepper. Reduce the heat to low; cover the pan again and simmer 5 minutes. Increase the heat to high and bring the mixture to a boil. Remove it from the heat.

Transfer the mixture into a large bowl; cover and refrigerate until the caponata is thoroughly chilled, at least 3 hours. Allow it to come to room temperature before serving.

Store the caponata in a covered bowl (not aluminum) or plastic container in the refrigerator up to one week.

Makes 10 to 12 servings.

chicken tandoori

First, we had the usual lecture to introduce us to the cuisine of India and how it varies from region to region, and we were introduced to some of the common elements, seasonings, and utensils of Indian cooking. Indian cuisine has evolved over thousands of years and influenced by many cultures that passed through the country.

The most common seasonings used are black mustard seeds, chiles, cumin, cardamom, fennel, coriander, turmeric, coriander, and fenugreek. Common herbs are cilantro, kaffir lime leaves, curry leaves, and mint.

Vegetable Curry

The nice thing about Indian food is that it’s great for vegetarians. Thanks to Buddhism, Hinduism, and Janism, vegetarianism is commonplace throughout the country and anywhere one goes in India, a vegetarian will always find plenty to eat.

India has a very distinct flavor profile—complex flavors and lots of spices—but it is similar to other countries in that the use of spices and heat levels vary from region to region. The more south you go, the hotter the food, which is the same way it is in Italy, the U.S., and many other countries. That’s because the more south you go, the hotter it is and eating spicy foods make you sweat, which cools you off. See, it all makes sense.

For the class, we concentrated on Moghul (or Mughlai) cuisine, which is the upscale Northern Indian cuisine that is most commonly found in Indian restaurants in the Western world. The Moghul Empire in India was extremely influential in many areas. This is from Cuisinenet.com:

The Moghuls were Persian Muslim princes, descended from both Genghis Khan and Tamburlaine, and nothing they did was anything less than glorious. They built the lavish and ambitious palace fortresses, mosques, and tombs that have become emblematic of the country, the most famous example of which is the Taj Mahal, the tomb built by Shah Jahan to honor his favorite wife, Mumtaz Mahal. At its height, the Moghul dynasty was known for its cultured tolerance, even enthusiastic support of and participation in, local customs, arts, and religions.

Chapati

This lavishness extended to food as well, and to this day, Northern Indian cuisine reigns as the standard Indian cuisine.

So, we spent the next few hours cooking dal, vegetable biriyani, golden cabbage, vegetable curry, spiced spinach and mushrooms, spiced chickpeas, sambaar, dosai, masala dosais filling, raisin tamarind sauce, pakoras, mint relish, cucumber raita, cilantro-onion relish, chicken tandoori, chapati, almond milk fudge, firni, chai tea, and mango punch.

Makind Dosai

I made the cucumber raita and cilantro-onion relish and tried my hand at a dosa, which is like a crepe. It’s filled with various ingredients, or it’s rolled up and used much like we would use bread. Learning to make dosai is a tricky thing—you have to make the batter the right consistency, then spread it in a pan with a ladle-like spoon (they have a special utensil just to do this) to the proper thickness, then flip it over. In between dosas, we greased the pan with an onion half dipped in oil for extra flavor.

I think my favorite dish of the day was the spiced chickpeas.

Dosai

And because it’s one of the easiest Indian dishes to make, I’m offering you the recipe below.  Enjoy!

Note: If you don’t have a pressure cooker, you can cook the chickpeas in a pot. If you don’t want to make chickpeas from scratch, use two 15- or 16-oz. cans.

Cilantro-Onions Relish

Spiced Chickpeas

Copyright ©Jenny Matthau/NGI

2 cups chickpeas, soaked and drained
6 large tomatoes, peeled, seeded* and chopped
6 tbsp coconut oil
2 onions, cut into small dice
6 garlic cloves, minced
1 tsp turmeric
1 large pinch cayenne
½ tsp ground cumin
½ tsp cinnamon
¼ tsp ground cloves
Salt
½ cup bean liquid
2 tbsp lemon juice
1 bunch cilantro, minced

1. Rinse chickpeas thoroughly and place in pressure cooker with 2 inches of water to cover. Bring to full pressure, lower heat and cook for 30 minutes or until very soft. Reserve bean liquid.
2. Fry onion in oil until soft.
3. Add garlic and spices. Cook a few more minutes
4. Add tomatoes, tomato juice and salt. Cook for 5 minutes.
5. Add chickpeas and bean liquid. Simmer, covered for 15 minutes.
6. Remove cover and cook on medium flame until thickened, if too thin.
7. Remove from heat. Stir in lemon juice and cilantro.

* Press seeds through a sieve and reserve the juice; discard seeds.

Spiced chickpeas

Causa is a Peruvian potato cake with several different layers. Traditionally, this dish would have layers of meat, seafood, eggs, vegetables, or other combinations, but always, there a potato layer.  For our version, we had 4 layers:  purple potatoes, cauliflower and almond, pureed fava beans, and seasoned tempeh.

Everything  that needed to be done was written on the board. We then broke up into teams and divvied up the tasks.  As expected, it fell to me to prepare the potatoes for the causa. I’d been responsible for that layer all along, so it made sense that I took ownership of it during FND prep.

We had prepared the entire dinner for 10 people a couple of times, but this time, we were making it for 100 people. Boiling and milling 4 lbs. of potatoes is one thing; boiling and milling 40 pounds is another. I filled three huge pots with purple potatoes and because the potatoes were all different sizes, they cooked at different rates. I tried grouping similar sizes in each pot, but still some potatoes cooked faster than other within the same pot. This meant that I had to skewer test and scoop out potatoes at intervals. Which was just as well because there was no way that I would have been able to pick up and drain these commercial-sized pots of boiling potatoes! If I had tried, it would have been a disaster of monstrous proportions. And I probably would have landed in the burn unit.

Lots of onions

It took hours to peel and mill all of these potatoes, even when one of my classmates stepped in to help me peel. My arms got an incredible workout. After several hours, I needed a break and asked one of my other classmates—who was actually on the other FND team, but was there to help us out—took over the milling for about an hour.

When I was finally done milling, the other elements for the causa were just about ready, too. But we had issues with the other elements. We had started out with a lima bean puree but at some point, we switched to fava beans (I’m still not quite sure why). To our dismay, the fava bean puree was not as green as the lima bean puree had been, probably because we didn’t have enough parsley, and the minced rosemary that had been added to it was too overpowering. Fortunately, we had enough color on the plate to compensate for the bean puree’s dullness, and the rosemary flavor was tempered when the puree was combined with the other elements. To ensure that all the elements worked together, we took scoops of each layer and placed them in a bowl to taste. (We learned to do that after the last run-through because, as we discovered, each element on its own may have been perfect, but together with other elements, it may have not have been quite right, and vice versa.) We continually adjusted until we felt everything worked, except that the cauliflower remained a little crumbly.

Elyse, who had made the bean puree and was disappointed, wanted to cut out the puree and just do three layers, but I knew that this was a bad idea. We had tried the recipe 3 times using 4 layers and it might have been disastrous to use just 3, because the cauliflower was too crumbly and it needed the puree to adhere it to the causa. With tout the bean puree, it would have been a mess.

We layered 6 full-size hotel pans with the 4 elements and wrapped them up. The next day, we inverted them onto sheet pans and began cutting the portions. This was not as easy as it sounds. We had to make sure that all the portions were the same size in both width and height. We tried cutting straight down, with a sawing motion, with knives with teeth, knives with no teeth, dental floss, and bench scrapers. Despite our best efforts, we wound up with a lot of oddly shaped pieces. Fortunately, we had a lot to spare to make up for the discards.

The next problem to solve was how to serve them. We had settled on squares but now we went back to triangles, which we had abandoned during our last run-through because we felt that triangles would be too unstable. Then, as we cut the squares into triangles and tried to move them to sheet pans, we saw how fragile they were. Through a couple of hours of trial and error, we discovered that the pieces stayed together a little better if we put them on the sheet pans and heated them upside down—that is, with the almond side down. It seemed to compact that layer just enough that we could handle them. Of course, had we known we were going to do this, we would have layered the 4 elements in reverse order.

The next day was a flurry of activity in K3 as we began preparation for service. I took it upon myself to start assigning stations for everyone on the line. Then, it was time for service. We all took our positions and began plating. Would you be surprised if I told you that we had a little bit of a rough time plating the causa?

We fiddled and fudged with a couple, trying to get a feel for the pieces. We finally worked it out that I would lay down one piece and Elyse, across from me, would lay down the other piece, the triangle that would stand up. At that point, things started moving. We got those causas plated and moved them down the line for the rest of the components.

We hit a bump in road, though. We had marked certain sheet trays to keep for the” house” (i.e., for ourselves), as they were the least pretty of the batch, the ones that had crumbled or that were oddly cut. Somehow or other, a couple of these trays got pulled out before the “good” ones. When we realized the error, we popped the good ones in the oven, but the plating came to standstill while we waited for the good ones to heat up. Chef B told us that we needed to get more plates out and so we had no choice but to pull the scruffy ones together and do the best we could with them. Finally, the good ones were hot, and just when we had pulled them from the ovens, Chef B said, “Stop.” We were done. All the guests had been served. And we all groaned with a great big old “Damn it” in our voices.

In the end, it was okay because no out in the dining rooms knew the difference. All they saw was a beautifully arranged meal bursting with color and form and texture, and when they tasted it, regardless of how it looked, it was rich with complex flavors.

We also took some time to decorate the classrooms with garland, lights, and flowers. My classmate, Angie, sewed table runners and made tassels for the menus, Elyse took charge of the decorations, and I created the menu. There was a lot to be done and tensions had run pretty high as everyone struggled to make time to work on FND while still carrying on their daily lives. But we pulled it all together and we had one hell of dinner.

My brother and sister-in-law were there, as well as numerous friends and acquaintances, and I was so happy to see them all there. With the exception of one person, everyone enjoyed the dinner very much. Success!

It sucked when the next day, one of the instructors said that after dinner, she became violently ill, but since no one else had that effect, I chalked it up to some weirdness with her stomach only.

I won’t lie. It was a bitch to plate those causas, but I am very proud of my team. We created a great meal and pulled it off despite bumps along the way. As we walked out into the dining rooms for our bows, we all held our heads high for a job well done.

For some fabulous photos of the prep and dinner by my classmate Elyse’s husband, David Prince, click HERE.

And for some less than spectacular, but still nice photos by me, click HERE.

By the way, the meal was entirely vegan and gluten free. The menu is below, as well as a recipe for Quinoa Croquettes, which got raves.

Thanks to Chef Barbara, the students of CTP 197W, the kitchens assistants, and all the guests who helped make our Friday Night Dinner a memorable night.

 Menu

Appetizer
Vegetarian Ceviche
Buttercup Squash Soup
Quinoa Croquettes with
Pumpkin Seed-Almond Dip

 Entrée
Causa
Escarole with Garlic & Lemon Dressing,
Botija Olives, and Caramelized Pearl Onions
Salsa Verde and Smoky Tomato Sauce

 Dessert
Chocolate Turrón
Tamarind Ice Cream
Saffron Poached Seckel Pear

QUINOA CROQUETTE

Yield: 10 two-ounce servings

Ingredients:

¾ cup quinoa (combination of red and white), rinsed well
1 1/8 cup water
2 medium parsnips, large dice (¾ cup)
1/2  onion, medium dice (½ cup)
2 cloves garlic, fine mince
1 tablespoon EVOO
½ cup cooked lima beans (1/4 cup unsoaked)
¼ bunch parsley, fine chopped (1/6 cup)
2 scallions, thin slice
1/4 cup sunflower seeds, lightly toasted and coarse chopped
1/2 teaspoon oregano
½ teaspoon ground cumin
½ lime, juiced
1 teaspoon sea salt
Oil for frying

Procedure:

1. Cook quinoa with water.  Cool.
2. Cook parsnips until very soft.
3. Sauté onion and garlic in EVOO until soft.
4. Blend together parsnips, lima beans, parsley, scallions, sunflower seeds, oregano, cumin, lime juice and salt to form a paste.
5. In a large bowl gently stir quinoa and onions and garlic together with paste mixture.  Quinoa may be fragile so do not over mix.
6. Form into 2 ounce croquettes.  Pan fry in oil.

PHOTO: David Prince

The Día de los Muertos dinner at JBH showcased 8 chefs from New York, Boston, and Pennsylvania. And I must say that it was a fabulous meal bursting with colors, flavors, and textures.

There were 6 passed hors d’oeuvres at the cocktail reception. At dinner, there were 5 entrees, and a few desserts. So, the good thing is that they give you your money’s worth and even if you don’t like everything on the menu, you will surely find at least a few things that would satisfy your palate. Plus, they usually serve a different wine, beer, or other beverage with each course.

By the same token, it’s not a cheap dinner, and it behooves one to try and enjoy as much of it as possible. At the risk of sounding judgmental, from the couple of times I had dinner there, I can say that the clientele is usually well heeled. But there are those, like me, who would not be able to pull together, or justify, the money needed for a meal at James Beard regularly, but who, once in a while, want and need to indulge themselves with a fabulous culinary experience in a place that is legendary in the food world.

Tlacoyos

The cost for dinners vary, but usually they are well over $100 for both members and non-members. I was able to eat there the first time because I was there as a journalist (and, therefore, it was free) and this time because I have a student membership, which gains me entry at a still-steep $55.

I found myself eating things that I would not have normally eaten. Aside from the fact that I was a vegetarian for so many years, there are certain meats that I never liked so never ate in the first place. But I was going to get my money’s worth. And, on a non-monetary level, I don’t get many opportunities to experience haute cuisine, so when I do, I try everything—just because. So here’s my assessment of this great meal.

Hors d’oeuvres

Slow-Roasted Goat Tlacoyos with Watercress and Goat Cheese Crema. I didn’t even know this was goat. It wasn’t goaty. It was tender and coated in a delicious sauce and was made beautiful by a fluff of microgreens, giving it freshness and lightening up the richness of the meat.

Blue Corn Sopes with Refried Black Beans, Corn–Tomatillo Salsa, and Cotija Cheese. There’s such an earthy quality about blue corn that really makes you feel like you’re partaking of something ancient and revered. It’s always a nice counterbalance to black beans and spicy salsa. This was a vegetarian’s Mexican dream.

Ceviche

Red Chile Sopes with Coconut–Habanero Shrimp and Cured Red Onions. I’m not crazy about seafood, but I gave this one a go. It had a spicy-sweet flavor that was complex and covered any sea flavors that don’t usually appeal to me. The coconut-chile sauce was mildly reminiscent of Southeast Asian dishes, but it had its own Latin twist.

Octopus Alambres with Poblano Peppers, Pearl Onions, and Lemon Vinaigrette. I couldn’t bring myself to try this one.

Chicken Tostada

Oaxacan Cheese Albóndigas with Anchoberry Barbecue Sauce. These were meatballs skewers, and I thought they were beef at first. I found out they were lamb. I don’t eat lamb because a) they’re too cute and b) it’s too gamey. I was stunned to find that I actually liked them. They were tender and the barbecue sauce was so sweet and delicious that I was tempted to eat more. But I refrained. I just couldn’t do it.

Calabasa Soup with Toasted Chile Pepitas, Piloncillo, and Canella. This soup was FABULOUS. They served this in tall shot glasses with the pepitas sitting on top. The calabasa was sweet and smooth and had just the right amount of seasoning. Then that little crunch at the end as you toss it back is so satisfying. I had 3 of those.

Dinner

Cucumber Margarita

Hiramasa Ceviche with Kiwi, Lime Sorbet, and Melon Vinaigrette. I’m not crazy about fish and anyone who knows me knows that sushi/shashimi and I are not bosom buddies. But I tried a piece and I must say, it was quite good. Light and not fishy at all. The kiwi, lime, and melon all gave it such a light, fresh taste, the fish almost seemed like a slice of fruit. This was accompanied by a cucumber margarita, which was also refreshing while having a definite margarita flavor.

Chicken Tostada with Avocado, Sea Urchin Crema, and Salsa Borracha. This was an interesting interpretation of a tostada. The chicken was tender and flavorful but made almost buttery by the slices of avocado that were wrapped around it. The “tostada” was a crispy ribbon holding up the other elements. It was playful and creative.

Chile Meco Relleno

Chile Meco Relleno: Pork, Black Currant, Pine Nut, Almond, and Green

Olive–Stuffed Meco Chile. As expected, this dish was somewhat spicy, but not unbearably so. Meco chiles were stuffed with shredded pork, which was extremely tender. The almonds had a sweet coating and were a least crisp contrast to the almost creamy stuffing.

Seared Striped Bass

Seared Striped Bass with Smoked Bacon–Black Bean Broth, Poblano Peppers, and Güero Chilies. I hate to say it, but the sea bass, as beautiful as it looked, was a bit dry and bland. This is not just me saying this; several of my table mates said it as well. This was probably the only dish that disappointed, but only by a little.

Braised Pork Belly with Calabaza Tamale, Nopales–Pomegranate Salad, Fried

Calabaza Tamale

Cheese, and Mole Negro. The tamale was so incredibly delicious. They made it easy to eat by bundling the corn husks into candy shapes (tied at the ends) with an opening on the top. The calabaza was perfectly seasoned and had a sweet-spicy profile. The Nopales–Pomegranate Salad on top was an interesting use of nopales, and the fried cheese came in the surprising form of little croutons. Pork belly is another thing I would never have eaten (just the name alone turns me off), but, going with the flow, I tried it. It practically melted in my mouth. What can I say?

Desserts

Dessert Duo: Dulce de Leche Budino and Plantain–Cinnamon Napoleon. The budino. Wow. This dessert, a parfait of cream and dulce de leche, was outrageous. It was creamy, smooth, and sweet without being cloying. There were little crunchy things on top and when they brought all the chefs out at the end, someone asked about what the little crunchy things were. The chef who made them said that they were duck cracklings, baked with sugar and vinegar and sweetened with Stevia. I was floored. The crunchies were sweet and almost maple-y. The Napolean was delicious, too, but next to the budino, it paled.

Dulce de Leche Budino and Plantain–Cinnamon Napoleon

Chefs’ Collaborative Dessert:
Plantain-Crusted Chocolate–Mulato Chile Truffles
Pecan Shortbread Cookies with Powdered Sugar
Miniature Pan de Muerto with Tangerine Marmalade

Of all these, my favorite was the pecan shortbread cookies. It was just these little one-bit morsels that was crumbly, nutty, and tender. The other desserts held their own, though. The pan de muerto was a little dry but the flavor of rosewater was delicate rather than overpowering.

Coffee service included a selection of teas, which were brought to the table in this beautiful wood box, and the selection made me feel like a kid trying to choose a toy. I finally settled on Organic African Nectar, fruity and floral.

And, so, with a round of applause for the chefs, a few nice-to-meet-yous to my table mates, I left the James Beard House and headed home, full, sated, and inspired.

For information on the James Beard House and to check out their schedule of events, click HERE.

First plating

This week, my class at the Natural Gourmet Institute began our recipe testing on our entrees for Friday Night Dinner. My team (group B) has decided on Peruvian. We were originally going with a winter harvest theme, since our dinner night is so close to the holidays. I had been thinking Peruvian all along but everyone seemed so into the harvest theme that I didn’t say anything in the initial planning class. Then, afterward, I casually mentioned my idea, and everyone really got into it. So I’m pleased that the team liked my idea; however, if it ends up sucking, I will feel so responsible. But I think we’re going to rock Friday Night Dinner. For our first recipe test, we did a pretty awesome job.

Sauteed Greens

Our menu so far consists of causa as the main entrée. Causa is a Peruvian potato pie with layers of different ingredients and topped with the ever-present black olives and egg slices. I created a version for my next cookbook and offered it to the class. We modified it to suit the class requirements and everyone’s tastes. And, of course, no eggs on top, since the meal has to be totally vegan. On the side, we’re having a couple sauces—one green, one red—sauteed greens, and curly sweet potato strings for garnish.

Entree in progress

After much debate and discussion about form, we finally decided to try a terrine mold. We layered each element (more on that later) and flipped it over. There are some things we need to tweak, but overall, the dish was pretty and delicious.

We haven’t settled on an appetizer or dessert yet. I’m a little disappointed that no one

really wanted to go with my dessert suggestion of Suspiro de Limeña, woman’s (from Lima) sigh, a traditional Peruvian dessert parfait made with dulce de leche and whipped cream. It’s a beautiful dessert and unique. And traditional. But we’ll work it out.

Suspiro de Limeña (Marian Blazes)

I’m sure we’ll come up with a great menu.

Virtually every culture in the world has one form of pizza or another. In the last couple of decades it has even found its way to the most culturally isolated countries. You probably knew that pizza is an Italian creation, but did you know that it goes back to the ancient Romans? The Romans made what they called moretum, a plain baked piece of dough that they ate with onions. Near the beginning of the 2nd second century A.D., the word picea entered the language to describe a piece of round dough dressed with various toppings, perhaps influenced by the Greek word pièzo, “to flatten.” It finally became pizza soon after. (Sauce didn’t enter the picture until the 18th century.)

The pizza that we know today was created in Naples in 1535 in honor of the marriage of Bona Sforza to Sizismondo I, King of Poland. Despite its grand origin, it became a food for common folk. Pizzerias started out as little holes-in-the-wall, selling pizza to the local peasants. As pizza’s popularity grew, pizzaiuoli (pizza-makers) began adding tables and chairs to entice people to enter. Little by little, they began to decorate and beautify their establishments by putting in colorful tiles or fancy brickwork.

Gennaro Lombardi opened the first pizzeria in the U.S. in New York in 1905. Over time, it became very popular and more pizzerias opened all across the country, becoming a favorite gathering place for people of all classes. Today, pizza is just as American as it is Italian. According to one urban legend, U.S. pizza is so popular that in the 1980s, college students in England ordered pizza to be shipped overseas. Papa John’s pizzeria filled the largest pizza order in history by delivering 13,500 pizzas in June of 2006. This surpasses the Guinness World Records champion, Little Caesar’s, who delivered 13,386 pizzas on August 19, 1998 to employees of the VF Corp. of Greensboro, N.C. at 180 locations in the U.S.

(Excerpt from What, No Meat?: Copyright © Roberti Roberti
Do not reprint in ANY form or media without express written consent.)

Wednesday night was pizza night at the Natural Gourmet Institute. It was probably a little awkward for some because our bread class was cancelled due to Hurricane Irene. Irene hit us full-on on Sunday, August 28, 2011, but the city began shutting down on Saturday. Mayor Bloomberg ordered all mass transit to halt service at noon. This meant that people could get to class but they wouldn’t be able to get home. So, the school closed. That was a relief to me because to make up those classes would have been a pain in the behind for me.

Logically, bread baking should be a prerequisite to pizza making, but circumstances precluded that. But the students in my class are pretty quick learners and in the end, we made some pretty tasty pizzas and focaccia, some of them gluten free. (However, I must say that I did not agree with all the toppings that were made available to us. I just don’t think that tofu belongs on a pizza, no matter how tasty you make it.)

First, we all started by making sponges, a starter made with yeast, water, and flour and is set aside to ferment. Some bakers make a sponge and let it sit for days, even weeks. Some starters—often called “mothers”—have been around for years and years. This is achieved by making a dough with the starter, then taking a piece from that dough and setting it aside, making a dough with that starter, taking a piece, and so on. Artisinal bakers are known for doing this, as it supposedly makes a superior bread.

One of the gluten-free versions of the pizzas was slightly gummy. The bottom was crisp but the part just beneath the toppings had the appearance and texture of undercooked dough, even though it wasn’t undercooked. But the flavor was quite good—better than you’d think from a gluten-free dough. The texture of a gluten-free dough can never be that of regular dough, but you can still get a really good pizza, with a nice, fluffy texture and, with the right toppings, a complex flavor.

We were each assigned a specific recipe. Mine was pissaladiére, which is a French pizza made with caramelized onions, Niçoise olives, and anchovies. I thought it came out pretty good, although I refused to use anchovies. Sorry, all you anchovies lovers, but I just can’t stand the sight, smell, or taste of them. And that pizza was delish! I split my dough into quarters, so I wound up with 4 small pizzas. (See the picture below.)

It was a scramble to get a pizza stone. We actually had lines forming because there were only a few pizza stones and each person had multiple pizzas to throw into the oven. But, eventually, everyone got theirs in and we feasted! At the beginning of class, I was starving. By the end of class, I was stuffed.

So, here is the recipe for pissaladiére, as I made it in school. Enjoy!

Pissaladiére

Sponge:
¼ cup warm water
1 ½ tsp dry yeast
2 Tb unbleached white all-purpose flour

Dough:
½  cup warm water
½ tsp sea salt
1 Tb olive oil
1 ½ cups unbleached white all-purpose flour
cornmeal for coating peels

Topping:
1/3 cup olive oil
4 lbs. onions, thinly sliced
3 cloves garlic, peeled, whole
2 Tb Herbs de Provence
½ tsp sea salt (or to taste)
freshly ground black pepper
1 cup Niçoise olives, pitted
6 plum tomatoes, sliced (optional)

Sponge
In small bowl, combine ¼ cup water, yeast, and 2 Tb flour; stir until thick like batter. Cover sponge and set aside in a warm, draft-free place for 20-30 minutes.

Dough:

1. Add ½ cup water, salt, olive oil and just enough of the remaining flour to create dough that pulls away from sides of bowl.
2. Knead dough on table about 10 minutes or until soft dough is created.
3. Place dough in medium, clean, lightly oiled bowl and cover with plastic wrap. Proof in a warm place for 45-60 minutes or until dough has doubled.
4. While dough is proofing, place pizza stones in preheated 425 oven, and prepare toppings.

Toppings:
1. Heat olive oil in medium pan over low heat. Add onions, garlic, Herbs de Provence, salt, and pepper. Slowly cook about 25 minutes, stirring occasionally until onions are very soft and translucent (don’t brown). Remove garlic.

2. Gently punch down dough and cut into 2 equally sized balls. Stretch out each ball of dough into a circle about 1/4-inch thick. Place on peel.

3. Spread cooked onions on top of each dough. Add tomato slices and sprinkle olives over the top. Fold edge of dough over onion mixture to cover about 1 inch around. Let rise 15-20 minutes.

4. Slide pissaladiére onto hot pizza stones and bake 20 minutes or until golden brown.