Now that we’re fortunate enough to have a garden again, thanks to Terrie’s persistence, we have a bounty of summer tomatoes to deal with.
And recently I had the chance to create a pizza sauce. I used to always make my own sauce when I made pizza (pre-Terrie, pre-sourdough) with store-bought dough. But we’ve been using sauce we buy at a market because there’s quite a variety now and they’re way more flavorful than even just a few years ago. But homemade sauce, that’s the good stuff. And we have fresh Roma tomatoes, so why not?
Every day, we’ve come in from the garden with another haul.
As an aside, I should note that I’ve been gardening and canning off-and-on for 25 years, but several years ago conceded gardening to Terrie for two reasons—the persistence of the deer wore me out, and in 2013, I had an allergic reaction to yellow jacket stings and was advised by my doctor that activity in the grass where yellow jackets hung out could be dicey for me. And our raised-bed garden is right in the middle of a lot of grass. Every time I go near it, I always see bees buzzing and I’m on high-alert mode.
I know you mean well, Buddy.
But back to the story. Sauces are a big thing for me. Before Terrie, I would concoct all kinds of sauces for things I grilled. My go-to sauce for grilled chicken, for example, was a combination of five ingredients that I can still name from memory even though I’ve not made it that way for years: a base barbecue sauce such as Sweet Baby Ray’s, Italian dressing, Kraft Catalina dressing, duck sauce (most often Saucy Susan brand), and some splashes of either soy, teriyaki or hot sauce depending on my mood.
Under Terrie’s watch, however, we have eliminated anything containing ingredients such as high-fructose corn syrup (bye-bye Sweet Baby Ray’s) and soybean oil (see ya, Kraft Catalina). The result is that we’ve eliminated a lot of my go-to’s, and to be honest, I don’t mind that. When I create a sauce now, it’s with more natural ingredients and usually means I’m investing my own labor, starting with sautéing vegetables and ending by blending. That’s how it was to be when I told Terrie I wanted to make a pizza sauce.
To increase my knowledge, I searched the inter-webs for pizza sauce recipes. I know how to create “Sunday gravy,” but a homemade pizza sauce from scratch is a different animal. Do you know that almost every recipe out there, including in the cookbooks we have at home, all start with one can (28 ounces) of plum tomatoes? So I changed the search to include “pizza sauce using homegrown tomatoes.”
We’ve had so many fresh, meaty Romas. I’ll use canned tomatoes in January.
The problem is I was mostly interested in a recipe by one of Terrie’s favorite chefs, J. Kenji Lopez-Alt. And he also used canned tomatoes. I remembered another bit of Terrie’s constant advice—don’t be married to a recipe; use your instinct. As a result, I used the Lopez-Alt recipe as a baseline but was able to embellish it with my own touches, like fresh tomatoes.
This included blanching (and then ice bathing) the tomatoes, sautéing garlic and some seasonings in a combination of olive oil and butter, roasting and dicing a sweet red bell pepper, and then adding an onion cut in half for the cooking (but removing at the end), then whizzing it up smooth with an immersion blender. The end result was amazing!
Blanch and shock the tomatoes for easy peeling.Chop the roasted red pepper along with the tomatoes and garlic.Everything into the pot with the oil, butter and seasonings!Putting it down for a two hour nap.
Use an immersion blender to puree it nice and smooth.
There was just one teeny problem. It’s not quite pizza sauce.
Rather, the sweetness of the red bell pepper and spice of the red pepper flakes meant it read uniquely, a cross between roasted red pepper sauce (like the one linked here that I made last summer) and something akin to vodka sauce (but without vodka, go figure). It was more complex than I wanted for pizza, which to me is a more tomato-forward and simple taste. We wound up using this sauce instead for turkey meatball subs. The subs had a tangy, bright pop thanks to our garden ingredients, and Terrie promises to share her recipe for the meatballs soon. The rest of the sauce (and meatballs) found its way into a stuffed zucchini boat, thanks to inspiration from a recent post on Dorothy’s New Vintage Kitchen.
Where there’s a sauce, there’s a way.
As for my desire to make pizza sauce, well, we still have plenty of Roma tomatoes coming in. Stay tuned.
My intention for pizza sauce turned into something more interesting and complex, perfect for topping pasta, Italian meatball subs or even lasagna. I used fresh Roma tomatoes from our garden, rather than canned tomatoes. If you use canned tomatoes, choose a 28 oz. can of Italian plum tomatoes and reduce the simmering time by half.
Ingredients
3 pounds fresh Roma tomatoes, cleaned
2 Tbsp. extra virgin olive oil
2 Tbsp. unsalted butter
1 small red bell pepper, roasted (instructions below)
1 large sweet or yellow onion, peeled and cut in half from stem to root end
3 Tbsp. grated Parmesan cheese (or the Parm-Romano blend that we are so fond of at our house)
1 or 2 tsp. sugar, to taste
Directions
Bring a large stock pot of water to a boil for blanching the tomatoes. Score the blossom end of the tomatoes to make it easy to peel them. Plunge the tomatoes into the water and let sit until you can see clear signs of the skin splitting. Have a good-size pot or bowl filled with ice water to chill the hot tomatoes and keep them from cooking once they are blanched. Then peel the tomatoes, give them a rough chop and set aside.
Quarter the bell pepper and press the pieces to flatten them, skin side up, on a foil-lined baking sheet. Set the oven to broil setting and roast peppers for about 10 minutes, until charred but not burned. Transfer the pepper pieces to a bowl and cover to steam, which will allow easier peeling. Dice the pepper.
In a large non-reactive pot on a low flame, heat the oil and butter until the butter melts. Add the garlic, oregano and pepper flakes. If using dry basil, add it now, too. Continue cooking on low for 2 to 3 minutes, then add the tomatoes, and salt generously. Add the onion halves, Parmesan cheese, fresh sprigs of basil (if using that) and roasted red pepper. Bring to a low boil, then reduce heat and cook on low until volume is reduced by up to half (about two hours).
Remove the onions (and basil sprigs if you used fresh), and then process the sauce with an immersion blender until smooth. Continue to simmer on low, and taste and season it from that point to suit your palate.
Serve immediately over pasta or whatever dish needs a bright Italian sauce. This also can be refrigerated (the flavors really shine after a couple days in the fridge), but probably should be used within a couple of weeks. Or you can freeze it.
When you’re in love, you do crazy things. Not that making your sweetheart’s favorite foods is crazy, mind you, but I do think it’s possible to push the envelope quite far, as I have done at times in my quest to tantalize my husband’s taste buds. This dessert might qualify, because not only did I make a homemade version of his favorite ice cream, I scooped that deliciousness right over a chocolate waffle and drizzled it with a homemade cherry syrup.
This is the way to my lover’s heart! ❤
Les’s all-time favorite sweet flavor combination is chocolate with cherries, and I have mentioned this previously on Comfort du Jour, in these scrumptious posts:
All those desserts were delicious, but when it comes to cherry and chocolate, it is unquestionably ice cream that wins my man’s heart. One of his favorite grocery store ice creams is the Ben & Jerry’s classic flavor, Cherry Garcia, and though I made it back in October 2020 for the triple chocolate-cherry brownie bowls, I felt that it needed a little tweaking, so I didn’t share the recipe at the time. The color of my first batch was off, because I had used my go-to custard base that had a yellowish tint from the egg yolks. And the chocolate chunks were 70% cacao, which proved to be too bitter and a touch gritty in the mix of so much creaminess.
So, I did what I do best and gave the recipe a makeover. And I’m back to share it with you—a homemade version of “Cherry Garcia” ice cream—one that uses sweetened condensed milk in its base, for creamy sweetness without the yellow egg color, a ribbon of sweet-tart cherry syrup that is tinged with a surprise ingredient, and bits of semi-sweet chocolate that bring just the right balance to the sweet cream, vanilla and cherries.
And, in a bold move, I gave it a go with a recipe I’d been eyeing for years on King Arthur Baking’s website—sourdough chocolate malt waffles. This dessert was nothing short of spectacular.
Over the top? Obviously, but c’mon, we’re talking about Valentine’s Day!
Be my ❤ alentine?
Before I get into the making of this lovely dessert, let me acknowledge that a few of you may not be inclined to go this crazy, or maybe you don’t have an ice cream machine yet, or you don’t have sourdough starter to make the chocolate waffles. Please feel free to lift any single part of this dessert for your own celebration, even if it means just making the cherry syrup to drizzle over store-bought ice cream, or serving the ice cream with a store-bought chocolate cookie. I ended up making a second batch of the cherry syrup (with chunks of cherries), and it was fantastic over plain vanilla ice cream.
My ingredients and instructions are all included in a downloadable PDF at the end of the post. Enjoy!
“Cherry Garcia” Ice Cream Base
This is my go-to ice cream ingredient list when I don’t want a custard base.
No extra sugar is needed for this base because the condensed milk is just right!
Add the whole milk to the condensed milk and whisk them together first.
These two ingredients are so different texture-wise that I want them to be thoroughly blended before adding the cream. Too much whisking would make the cream frothy.
My vanilla extract was a brand new bottle, and I made a total mess while taking this picture! When are they going to put dropper lids on these things?
I ended up using more vanilla than I intended, but it turned out fine as a backdrop to all the cherry flavor yet to come. 😉
If you happen to have a jar of these cocktail cherries in the fridge, add some of the syrup to the ice cream base.
It’s dark, rich, sweet and so ridiculously CHERRY! I added two full tablespoons to my base.
I hardly ever add food color to anything, but the cherry syrup made my base look grayish. A few drops of natural red coloring helped correct it.
Finally, blend the heavy cream into the base.
The color was a pretty pink and the flavor was perfectly cherry-sweet-vanilla. Cover and refrigerate several hours to overnight.
Cherry Swirl Syrup
Pulse half of the frozen cherries in a food processor (or chop them roughly by hand) and transfer them immediately back to the freezer. You’ll mix them into the ice cream later.
Add sugar and real cherry juice to the remaining frozen cherries, and stir over medium heat until sugar is dissolved.
A few tablespoons of light corn syrup prevents the sugars from crystallizing when it’s cooled.
My secret ingredient! Les and I picked this up in a gourmet shop on a recent trip to Alexandria, VA. The balsamic intensifies the sweet cherry flavors in the sauce.
Finally, just because almond pairs so nicely with cherry, I splashed in about an ounce of amaretto. Skip this if you’re feeding kids or non-drinkers.
Scoop out the cherries (I’ll come back to them later) and strain the syrup through a mesh sieve to filter any solid bits.
If you have small squeeze bottles, transfer 1/2 cup of the syrup into one for easy layering into the ice cream later.
I lined up all the ingredients for King Arthur’s “Chocolate Malt Waffles,” including the overnight starter. I made a half-batch and still had enough for three Belgian waffles.
When I was mixing the starter into the fudgy liquid mixture, it reminded me of the sourdough chocolate cake I made a few weeks earlier.
And I remembered that my blog buddy Sandy suggested the Danish dough whisk for mixing the sloppy ingredients together. I’m teachable, so I grabbed mine for this work! 🙂
This was much easier than folding with a spoon or spatula. Thank you, Sandy!
I held my breath, hoping the mini chocolate chips would not stick to my Belgian waffle maker. (They didn’t.)
I didn’t use enough batter in the first waffle, and it spread unevenly when I flipped the iron over.
It was very lacy and it twisted out of shape when I pulled it from the iron. Oops!
Second waffle was better but still very delicate and tough to remove. King Arthur cautioned that they’d be very soft right after baking, and they weren’t kidding.
Third time’s a charm! This one was perfect, and all we needed for our over-the-top dessert. After cooling a few minutes, the waffle crisped right up.
Freezing the Cherry Garcia Ice Cream
When the ice cream base is completely chilled, pour it into your machine and follow manufacturer’s instructions for freezing. Mine takes about 25 minutes.
When the ice cream is soft-serve consistency, add the frozen cherry bits and churn until they are incorporated.
A splash of vodka in the final minute ensures a perfectly scoopable texture, straight from the freezer. This is optional and I would not recommend it if you’ll be serving kids or non-drinkers.
Time to layer the ice cream! Pour about 1/3 of the mixture into an insulated container.
This time, I used semi-sweet chocolate chunks, rough-chopped a little smaller.
Scatter 1/2 of the chocolate bits and squeeze a generous drizzle of the cherry syrup.
Second verse, same as the first… Then, top it with the final 1/3 of ice cream. Save remaining syrup for topping ice cream, or add it back to the original cherry sauce.
Just to be fancy, I used a spatula to swirl the top just a bit. Cover and freeze overnight.
Chocolate-Cherry Heaven, Coming Right Up!
The vodka mixed in at the end made this ice cream a dream to scoop. If you skip the vodka, take the ice cream out of the freezer about 10 minutes early to soften slightly.
I don’t need to explain this, right?
For our later servings of ice cream, we served scoops with some of that scrumptious reserved cherry sauce.
There was a time (in the not-so-distant past) that we didn’t rely on overly processed food from the supermarket for every little thing. Before the grocery aisles were jam-packed with 173 kinds of salad dressing, there was oil and vinegar, and people spiced those up by whisking in a handful of other common items to create dressings far tastier than the pre-made stuff. Vinaigrette is one of the simplest dressings to make from scratch, and creamy dressings are equally simple with a few basic ingredients.
You might be amazed at how much flavor you will be able to create at home with nothing more than simple fridge items, a few spices and a whisk (or, as I’ll show you today, a food processor). On the economic side, it costs pennies on the dollar to make your own dips and dressings, and it only takes a few minutes to pull them together.
The other benefit of making your own dressing—besides the savings and the flavor factor—is that you will know exactly what is in it. Commercial dressings contain so many stabilizing and preservative ingredients that aren’t necessary. And if it seems a healthier bet to buy the packets of ranch dressing mix and “make it yourself” with fresh buttermilk, all I can suggest is to take a closer look:
As soon as I see maltodextrin and monosodium glutamate (MSG), I’m gone!
I suppose these ingredients might be perfectly harmless (remember when they said that about partially hydrogenated vegetable oil?), but it’s a fair assumption that the fresh herbs and minimal spices you add to a real homemade dressing will present a lesser concern. And your dressing will taste better, which might even lead you to enjoying more salads and vegetables.
For this creamy ranch dressing dip, I have used a whole bulb of roasted garlic to add a mellow flavor to plain Greek yogurt, buttermilk, olive oil-based mayo and a bunch of fresh herbs. A little salt and pepper, a squeeze of lemon, and that’s all there was to it. If you prefer a bit more zing, use fresh garlic, but only a fraction of what is called for here. If you don’t have the same fresh herbs, substitute what you have or what you like. If you want to add half of a ripe avocado in place of some of the mayonnaise, go for it.
Nice to have something a little healthy for a game day snack!
My homemade roasted garlic ranch dip was intended for dipping fresh veggies as a game day snack, but if you prefer a more pourable dressing for salads, simply ease up on the mayo and use more buttermilk.
This recipe makes about 1 1/4 cups.
Ingredients
2 scallions, white and green parts
1 small handful fresh parsley
1 small handful fresh dill
1 tsp. Dijon mustard
2 Tbsp. freshly squeezed lemon juice (about 1/2 an average-sized fruit)
1/4 cup stirred Greek yogurt (whole fat or 2% recommended)
1/4 tsp. onion powder
1/4 tsp. carboxymethylcellulose (just kidding—I’ve never heard of this, but it’s in the store-bought ranch mix!)
*Notes
Choose a mayonnaise that you trust, bearing in mind that labels can be misleading. The front of the jar may suggest that your mayo is made with olive oil, but on further inspection, soybean oil could be listed as the first (most prominent) ingredient, with the healthier oil listed much later. Learning what your food is made of can be an eye-opener, and when you do find a product that meets your health standards, you will be able to build on it to make a lot of other foods serve you better.
Thick buttermilk works especially well for dip-style dressings. Look for a brand that doesn’t have a lot of “gum” ingredients, which are unnecessary stabilizers. Bacterial cultures should be present in good buttermilk as well. And for this dip, I do not recommend making a buttermilk substitute using regular milk and lemon juice or vinegar. That works for some baking recipes, but not in this instance, as you will miss the smooth textural element that buttermilk lends to your dip or dressing.
I love roasting garlic for use in many things, and it is easy to do. If you have never made your own, you may find some helpful tips in my previous post for making your own roasted garlic. When roasted, the garlic takes on a mellow, somewhat nutty flavor that lends a lot of depth to foods. If you prefer fresh, or simply don’t have the time or patience to roast it, I would recommend only using one or two segments of the garlic rather than a whole bulb (unless you’re battling vampires, obviously).
Instructions
Mix and match your herbs as desired. I used two scallions, flat-leaf parsley and fresh dill.
Roasted garlic has a mellow flavor and I love the depth of it in a dressing. Use only a clove or two if you’re using fresh!
Combine the herbs, Dijon, salt and pepper in the small bowl of a food processor. Squeeze in the fresh lemon juice.
Drizzle about a tablespoon of olive oil into the mixture to assist with blending. Pulse a few times, just to knock down the bulk of the herbs.
Add mayo to the pulsed herb mixture and pulse again, then process continuously until the mixture is smooth and even.
Add roasted garlic and pulse again. If you are leery about so much garlic, start with half and give it a taste before adding more. I used a whole bulb!
Transfer the mixture to a bowl and add the yogurt and buttermilk.
Whisk to blend the dairy ingredients into the dip. Adjust seasonings to taste.
This is a thick mixture, perfect for a veggie tray. If you prefer a more pourable dressing for salads, use less mayo and more buttermilk.
It’s fresh, creamy and full of flavor.
Begin by chopping up your fresh herbs, together with the Dijon, salt, pepper, lemon juice and olive oil. I made a small batch this time, and my processor only rough-chopped these ingredients, even in the small insert bowl. As long as the volume reduces to make room for the other ingredients, it’s fine.
Add the mayo and pulse to combine. Add the roasted garlic and process until you no longer see visible bits of the garlic.
Transfer the mixture to a bowl. Add yogurt, buttermilk and onion powder, and whisk until smooth. Adjust seasoning to taste (remember that additional salt will need time to dissolve, so you may want to let it rest a few minutes before final taste adjustments).
Chill the dip at least one hour before serving. Enjoy within a few days for best freshness and give it a good stir when you take it out of the fridge.
Of all the things to be excited about when our kitchen remodel is finished, I’m especially looking forward to having my pasta rolling machine closer at hand. We have what we call the “prime real estate” rule in our existing kitchen, which means that we must use a gadget or appliance more than a couple times each week to justify giving it counter space or base cabinet storage. Everything else is relegated to the baker’s rack in the attached garage, or atop the wall cabinets in our laundry room.
See it way up there? Next to the spiralizer, my grain mill and underneath the deadly mandoline.
My pasta machine, which I only use once every few months, lives way up there, mere inches from the ceiling. I can only reach it if I stand on tippy toes on the top step of our stepladder—it is inconvenient, to say the least. And I have not pressed very hard on the argument that if I could actually reach the thing, I might use it more often, thereby earning its spot in the better real estate. It’s a catch-22 kind of thing, and a real shame because I love to make handmade pasta.
But my deepest pasta prayers will be answered with the installation of a brand-new section of cabinetry in this unused corner of our kitchen, right next to the huge sunny window. It will be my own special space—a baking station—and the cabinets and drawers will give me all the space I need for my favorite gadgets, including the pasta machine, plus a lovely butcher block countertop where I will make pasta (and sourdough bread) to my heart’s content. I cannot wait!
Am I the only one who hears angels singing?
And in preparation for that time, I have been getting in some practice rounds with handmade pasta, due in part to my purchase of this amazing how-to book. The author of Pasta, Pretty Please, Linda Miller Nicholson, describes her recipes for brilliantly hued handmade pasta dough, flavored and colored with pure, natural ingredients, and then shaped with the most clever and creative techniques. Linda is all over Facebook, YouTube and Instragram with her craft, and you can count me among those who are utterly enthralled by her incredible, edible art. Feast your eyes!
Amazing, right??
The impatient side of me wants to dive head first into the most complex shapes, designs and colors, but I am restraining and pacing myself—partly so that I don’t get frustrated with techniques that I don’t yet understand, and partly because there is only so much pasta that my husband, Les, and I can consume in a week. If I made as much pasta as my heart desired, we’d be in major carb overload!
But I am practicing, both with the natural color ingredients and some of the special shaping. I’m happy to share a sneak peek of my progress, and then I’ll dive into the recipe that I promised at the beginning.
I used mostly semolina dough to make two colors; the orange was pureed sun-dried tomato, and the green was blanched kale.
Following Linda Miller Nicholson’s guidance, I sheeted the individual pasta colors, then laminated them together!
These shapes are called “soprese,” which means “surprise!” The surprise is that they do not have anything inside. 😉
I also rolled out fettucine with the two colors. This is seriously fun!
Practice makes perfect, so I will keep at it.
Stay tuned for more progress as I go. Until then, let’s talk about this handmade spinach pasta, lovingly wrapped around an easy ricotta and parm-romano filling. I will not be so smug as to imply that handmade pasta is a cinch (because it does take practice), but I will absolutely say that it is worth the effort, and if you have made pasta before, you can make a couple of simple changes to twist up the flavor and color, and you will impress even yourself with the outcome. I’ve made colored and flavored pasta many times before—with spinach, butternut squash, sun-dried tomato, lemon and dried mushrooms as ingredients—but I have already learned some new tricks from Linda Miller Nicholson, and I am excited to share them with you.
For starters, her instruction shifted me away from extensive kneading of the dough to a simpler means of laminating the dough to build gluten strength. Laminating means “layers.” After a brief kneading and a half-hour rest, you repeatedly fold the sheets of dough onto itself, layer upon layer, as you run it through the pasta machine. As you go, the dough becomes more and more supple and strong enough to withstand pressing into thin sheets for ravioli. This is good news for anyone who finds kneading tedious or painful.
Next, the color of the pasta can be intensified with a simple addition of baking soda in the blanching water for any vegetables you use to color up your dough; then, a quick straining through a mesh sieve weeds out the solids for a cleaner-looking dough. In the past, I have simply wilted spinach in a pan and pureed it into my dough. My previous results were good, but not this good.
I am astonished at how bright green the color remains, even after cooking. The baking soda trick when blanching the spinach really makes a difference.
And my filling is improved also, simply because I took a few extra minutes to drain excess moisture from the ricotta before mixing the filling. More advice from Linda, and it worked like a charm. Oh, it pays to stay curious!
Pressing the ricotta through cheesecloth in a strainer.
This is why it matters to drain the ricotta. That extra moisture would make my ravioli mushy inside.
The dough
2 1/4 cups unbleached all-purpose flour* (see notes)
2 large eggs, room temperature (plus water, as noted in the instructions)
A fat handful of fresh baby spinach leaves, washed
1 tsp. baking soda (in the blanching water, not the dough)
1 Tbsp. kosher salt (also for the blanching water)
As always, be sure you measure the flour properly so that your dough is not dense. Use the fluff, sprinkle, level method if measuring by volume. For less fuss and greater precision, measure it by weight—270 grams.
The very best flour to use for pasta is Italian 00 milled flour or finely milled durum (semolina), which is my favorite. But both can be tricky to find. For the sake of practice, I have been using King Arthur all-purpose flour, and I have had excellent results so far. If you sub in any amount of whole wheat flour, increase the water a bit as well.
Instructions
Here, I will run through the instructions in pictures, as usual. At the end of the post, you’ll find a PDF available for download, so you can print it for your recipe files. 🙂
A pinch of baking soda in the water preserves the bright green color of the spinach.
Drain the spinach briefly and let it cool 5 minutes.
Press down on the spinach to release the dark-colored liquid.
Combine the whole eggs and spinach in a blender.
Pulse then blend until the color is uniform.
Strain the solids through a mesh strainer placed over a glass measuring cup.
Add filtered water to equal 3/4 cup liquid.
For this batch I used a combination of all-purpose flour and semolina. Total volume 2 1/4 cups.
Pour the puree directly into the blended flour.
Stir it together with a spoon as much as you can, then knead by hand to work the dough.
It only takes a minute or two to fully incorporate the flour. This time, I did all of my kneading directly in the bowl.
Wrap the dough ball tightly in plastic and rest at least 30 minutes. Put it in the fridge if you plan to sheet it later.
Bring a pot of water to boil. Add the salt and baking soda and stir briefly to dissolve. Toss in the baby spinach and stir it around for 15 seconds. Use a slotted spoon or tongs to remove the spinach and place it in a mesh strainer to drain excess water.
Transfer the spinach to a regular or bullet blender, together with the eggs. Pulse blend a few times, and then run the blender continuously until the mixture is evenly mixed.
Pour the pureed mixture through a mesh strainer over a glass measuring cup. Press the puree through to strain out the solids, and then add enough water to the mixture in the glass to measure exactly 3/4 cup.
In a large bowl, stir a generous pinch of salt into the flour and create a well in the center of the flour. Pour in the pureed spinach mixture and mix with a spoon until a clumpy mixture comes together. Knead with your hands in the bowl or turn the dough out onto a countertop and knead several times until all flour is incorporated and no dry spots remain.
Wrap the dough tightly in plastic wrap and let it rest for at least 30 minutes before rolling. You may also refrigerate the dough for several hours or even a day. I’ve found this formula for pasta dough to be very forgiving.
Make the ricotta filling while you rest the pasta dough
See how chunky the ricotta is after straining? Stir in the parm-romano. Add the egg yolks, salt and pepper.
I like to grate a little fresh nutmeg into the ricotta mixture. I also like to enjoy a dry gin martini while I work. 😉
Use organic lemons if you are using the zest.
Spoon the filling into a plastic bag as a makeshift piping bag. I used a clean bread bag here, but a quart sized zip top would also work.
Nudge the filling toward a corner and tie a knot in the bag. I’ll refrigerate it in this container until I’m ready to shape and fill my ravioli.
Strain the ricotta in a mesh strainer (lined with cheesecloth if you have it) over a medium bowl. Let the ricotta drain for at least 30 minutes. Stir in parm-romano, egg yolk, lemon zest and nutmeg. Salt and pepper to taste. Spoon the mixture into a plastic bread bag for easy piping. Refrigerate mixture while you roll out the pasta dough.
Sheet the pasta and fill the ravioli
Use a bench scraper or knife to divide the dough into pieces that will flatten into roughly the size of a deck of cards. Keep the remaining dough wrapped while you work the first piece.
Use a roller or the heel of your hand to slightly flatten the piece of dough.
Pass it through the pasta roller on the widest setting. Turn the piece over and pass it through again.
Fold the thinned piece of pasta into thirds, as if folding up a letter. You know, those paper things we used to communicate before texting? Run it through the machine again.
After several folds and passes, begin reducing the settings for a thinner sheet.
Eventually, the small piece of dough will look something like this. Rest this piece about 10 minutes on a floured counter before shaping into ravioli. You can work on another piece while you wait.
Rest the new piece, and use the first piece to make your first batch of ravioli.
The length of the dough sheets vary, depending on the size of the initial section. These were rolled to the same thickness setting.
Cut the corner from your piping bag and squeeze dollops along the center of one side of the pasta sheet. The other side will be folded over. Keep some space in between.
With a damp finger, moisten the pasta dough around the dollops. This means two long swipes along the length and a quick swipe in between them.
Gently fold the dough to rest over the top of the ricotta dollops but do not begin sealing yet.
Beginning along the folded edge, gently press toward the ricotta lump to nudge any air out. Work on one dollop at a time, from fold to sides to front. Repeat for the rest.
Here, I found an air bubble, so I used the edge of my bench scraper to gently pry open the dough. Air bubbles will wreck your ravioli.
When the ravioli are all sealed, use a pasta cutter, pizza wheel or sharp knife to cut them into pieces.
Divide the dough into sections, keeping most of them wrapped as you work on one. Use a rolling pin or the heel of your hand to press the first section into a flat oval. Run it through the pasta machine on the thickest setting, folding it into thirds like an envelope and then run it through again. If it sticks, dust both sides with flour. When the dough reaches a very supple stage, adjust the setting knob one notch per run, until the dough reaches the desired thinness. For ravioli, I recommend using the thinnest or second-thinnest setting.
Let the pasta sheet rest, uncovered, on the floured counter for about 10 minutes before filling with ricotta filling. This gives the pasta time to tighten up a bit for easier shaping.
If you are making ravioli without a mold, squeeze 1 1/2 teaspoon-sized dollops of ricotta filling onto one long side of the pasta sheet. Space the dollops about 2 inches apart, allowing room to seal up the pillows on all sides. Dip a finger into a small bowl of water and slightly moisten the dough in between ricotta dollops and along the long edge.
Fold the dough over the ricotta dollops, taking care to keep the edges aligned. Carefully press out any air pockets, starting from the folded edge, then in between dollops. Seal the open edge last to ensure no air bubbles are trapped.
Use a pizza wheel or sharp knife to trim any ragged edges. Cut between the raviolis and transfer them to a semolina- or flour-dusted parchment paper. Allow the ravioli to dry for at least an hour before cooking.
To cook handmade ravioli, bring salted water to a gentle boil. Carefully transfer ravioli, taking care not to overcrowd the pot. Fresh pasta cooks much more quickly than dried or frozen, so keep an eye on it and prepare to rescue it from the pot after about four minutes.
Serve with any favorite sauce. I made the simplest marinara with sauteed onions and garlic, my own Italian spice blend and canned San Marzano tomatoes, plus a splash of cream.
Your cooking water should be seasoned with salt and simmering at a low boiling point. Add ravioli carefully.
Scoop out the ravioli and transfer them directly to the sauce. The starchy water that clings will help the sauce adhere to the pasta.
Gently swirl the ravioli around in your favorite sauce, then transfer to your plate and enjoy!
Is it worth all that effort? You better believe it.
A ravioli mold makes this work much simpler. I bought a set of three different shapes for about $20, also at TJMaxx.
Dust the sheet with semolina and gently press it in before turning the sheet over onto the mold. This keeps it from sticking.
There is no need to press the dough into the indents; let the pressure of the ricotta filling do it for you.
Each ravioli should have just enough filling to crest at the top of the indent. Remember that it will smoosh and flatten with the top sheet.
Lightly dampen the surface of the dough that will be turned over on top. You want it to be just tacky, not dripping.
Press the air out of each ravioli, beginning down the center of the mold, then around the sides of each pillow.
Use a roller to press, seal and score the pillows.
The ravioli mold is so easy, and a small investment if you make a lot of pasta.
Boom!
If you wish to freeze them for later, dry for an hour then place the sheet directly into the freezer for an hour or so.
When the individual ravioli have frozen, you can easily transfer them to freezer bags, then into a sealed container for freezer storage. Cook them from frozen.
For the record, I bought Linda Miller Nicholson’s book with my own hard-earned money. This is not a paid advertisement for Linda, but I cannot help sharing my discovery of her work because she is just awesome. You can pick up a copy of Pasta, Pretty Please at the bookstore or on Amazon, but I bought it directly from Linda’s website, called Salty Seattle. If you buy the book directly from Linda, she will even sign it for you. 🙂
In six short weeks, life will be turned upside down for my husband, Les, and me. This is when our kitchen tear-out will begin, and we are beginning to shift our expectations as we prepare for the eight weeks or so that we will be “without” a kitchen. Welcome, friends, to our “in-between” kitchen!
How about that? A two-burner “stove” right on the dining table!
This rack is going to get a LOT more cluttered in the weeks ahead.
At least we will have the bar nearby… 🙂
We have rearranged our dining room space to accommodate a baker’s rack that will hold some of the appliances that will help us get through the chaos. A new two-burner induction cooktop will allow us to do simple stove-top cooking, including heating water for my daily dose of French press coffee. We will make good use of our slow cooker, toaster oven and the panini griddle that doubles as a waffle iron. We have the gas grill for outdoor cooking, and so far, the only thing I haven’t quite figured out is how I will make bread without our oven, though don’t be surprised if I use one or more of the above to make it happen!
As we are preparing for the load out of the old kitchen (not to mention a bevy of random pantry and freezer ingredients), I’m giving all of our other small electrics a chance to prove themselves worthy of a spot in our new space. One item that will be (sadly) getting the boot is our KitchenAid 11-cup food processor, but not because we don’t use it; on the contrary, this thing gets so much action, it is on its last legs. The protective film over the power buttons has become brittle and is completely worn away from the pulse button, the feed chute is cracked and the inside of the “S” blade stem has some dried-on crud that I have not been able to remove. I have had the appliance nearly 20 years, and KitchenAid no longer makes my model (or any of the parts), so my only choice will be to replace the machine.
I’m surprised this is the only button missing the cover.
This probably happened while I was make parm-romano blend.
I don’t even want to know what dangers lurk in those crevices…
My KitchenAid processor has had a good run!
Until then, I’ll keep going with recipes like this one, for easy homemade hummus made with garbanzo beans, lemony artichoke hearts and lots of fresh garlic. Hummus is one of my favorite “blank canvas” foods, and it’s so simple at home, it makes no sense to buy it. The other key ingredients include tahini, olive oil and a squeeze of fresh lemon, which is a perfect highlight to the tangy artichoke.
Warm the garbanzo beans to soften them up before you begin and use a food processor or a good blender for best, smoothest results. Enjoy your hummus on crackers, chips, crostini or fresh veggie slices.
It’s so much tastier than store-bought!
Ingredients
15 oz. can garbanzo beans, with liquid
3 Tbsp. tahini* (see notes)
2 to 3 cloves garlic, finely chopped
About 1/2 cup marinated artichoke hearts*, drained and rough-chopped
Juice of 1/2 lemon
Kosher salt and pepper
3 Tbsp. extra virgin olive oil
*Notes
Tahini is a paste made of ground sesame seeds. It is available in most larger supermarkets, usually in the same section as olives, or perhaps in the international aisle.
The artichoke hearts I used were Trader Joe’s, marinated in sunflower oil, vinegar and spices. If you use plain hearts, consider adding a pinch or dried herbs (dill or oregano would be great), and either way, drain all the excess liquid from them.
Instructions
Simmering the garbanzos softens them, and helps achieve a silky texture in the hummus.
Drain off most of the liquid, and keep it nearby for the blending stage.
Transfer all the beans, still warm, into the processor (or blender) bowl. Keep the chute lid open while blending to allow steam to escape.
The add-ins, clockwise from top: tahini, fresh garlic, chopped artichoke hearts, salt and pepper.
Pouring in the warm liquid keeps the mixture nice and smooth as it processes.
I love my citrus squeezer because I get all of the juice and none of the seeds!
Drizzle the olive oil in slowly as the machine processes continuously.
After each step or addition, stop and scrape the sides to ensure all bits of ingredients are evenly blended.
Pour the entire contents of the canned garbanzo beans into a small saucepan. Heat over medium-low heat until mixture just begins to boil. Remove from heat and drain liquid off beans, but do not discard it (you’ll use it for blending).
Transfer warm beans into a food processor or blender and pulse a few times to grind the beans into a meal-like texture. Scrape down sides of the processor bowl. Add tahini, garlic, artichoke hearts, salt and pepper. Pulse a few times to combine. Scrape down the sides again.
Turn processor on and run continuously while slowly pouring about 3 tablespoons of the warm liquid into the processor. Blending slowly will help to emulsify the ingredients into a smooth blend. Add more or less of the liquid, depending on your preference for hummus consistency. Remember that the mixture will become firmer after chilling. Scrape down sides once more.
Run processor continuously and slowly blend in about 3 tablespoons of extra virgin olive oil.
Transfer hummus to a bowl and refrigerate, covered, for up to a week.
There are plenty of things I don’t buy pre-made anymore—bread, salad dressing, pizza dough, ice cream, pasta—but corn tortillas are among the simplest, and the flavor is far superior to the ones I find in the supermarket. Even the “authentic” corn tortillas at the grocery are mass-produced with all kinds of processed ingredients, conditioners, preservatives and heaven knows what else. When you make them from scratch, you only need two ingredients—masa harina, which is finely ground corn that has been alkalized with lime (the mineral, not the citrus), and water. The dough rests for a short time, then it is rolled into balls and flattened into discs. Cook them on a hot griddle or cast-iron skillet, and you’ll enjoy tortillas that will make you skip store bought forever.
Flavoring the tortillas is simple, also. I like to put a couple of shakes of onion powder into a basic batch, for a quick little savory “something.” But if you want more noticeable flavor—spinach, for example—simply puree a small amount of cooked spinach with some water and measure it out in the same measurement as water in the recipe. You could do the same with cilantro, pumpkin, garlic, tomato or black beans. If you can imagine it, you can make it. Experimenting in the kitchen has resulted in some of my favorite foods!
I use a tortilla press to create the perfect round shape, but you can also use the flat bottom of a large glass bowl to do this. Once cooked, the tortillas can be used for soft tacos or enchiladas, fried crisp for hard-shell tacos or tostadas (one of my faves), or cut into wedges and fried to become homemade tortilla chips, perfect for dips and salsas.
Making tortillas can be a little challenging at first. The ratio of ingredients is printed on the masa flour bag, but your technique can only be developed with practice. See my tips for success at the end of the instructions. No reason you should go through all the frustrating mistakes I’ve made. One of these days, I’ll make a list of all the cuss words I’ve made up in the kitchen. 😊
Ingredients for Basic Tortillas
1 cup masa harina (I like Maseca brand, white, yellow or blue)
2/3 cup very warm water (or 50/50 mix of water and puree of choice)
A pinch of kosher salt
Instructions
Combine all ingredients in a bowl and stir until liquid is absorbed. Knead the dough ball a few times until mixture is smooth, soft and uniform in texture. Cover the dough ball snugly with plastic wrap and allow it to rest at least 20 minutes.
Preheat a cast-iron skillet or griddle over medium-high heat, about 375° F.
Divide masa dough into 8 equal pieces, then roll each piece into a smooth ball. Keep the dough balls covered to prevent drying out as you shape and press them into flat tortillas.
Place a dough ball between two squares of plastic wrap, or cut apart a zip-top bag. The thicker plastic gives better results. Use the tortilla press to slowly flatten the dough to a disc that is about 5 to 6 inches across. Alternatively, press the flat bottom of a clear glass bowl evenly over the surface of the dough ball until the tortilla is about 5 to 6 inches across.
Carefully peel one side of the plastic away from the tortilla, then turn the tortilla out into your hand and peel away the second piece of plastic. Be prepared to ruin a few, but don’t panic if you do (see Tips below)!
Turn the tortilla onto the preheated griddle and cook the first side 60 to 90 seconds, until the edges look dry and steam is emerging from underneath. Use a spatula to flip the tortilla over and cook the second side about 60 seconds.
Transfer the hot tortilla to a plate lined with a clean kitchen towel and fold the towel over to keep them warm as you finish the remaining tortillas.
For basic tortillas, you can embellish the flavor with a slight sprinkling of spice. Here, I’ve used white corn masa, with a few shakes of onion powder and a pinch or two of salt.
In my experience, warm water does a better job hydrating the masa. Add all at once, then stir and knead a minute or so, until the dough is smooth.
The masa should feel soft but not sticky. If it seems dry, wet your hands and knead a few more times. Too wet? sprinkle with masa and knead again.
Cover or wrap the masa dough, and rest 20 minutes for the grain to fully hydrate. This will improve the texture of the dough for pressing into tortillas.
This is the easiest way to divide the dough into relatively equal portions, then roll the sections into dough balls. They will be about the size of ping pong balls.
A zip top bag is heavier and more effective than regular plastic wrap. Cut the zipper side off completely, and then cut down both sides, leaving only the bottom attached.
Keep the dough balls covered to prevent drying as you work through flattening and cooking them. It’s OK if they are not exactly the same size.
Have your griddle or cast iron pan heated and ready before you begin. Place a dough ball roughly in the center of the plastic sleeve.
Gently close the lid on the tortilla press. I find it works best to have the dough ball slightly off center, closer to the hinge than the front.
Easy does it on the pressing. If you go too hard and squish the dough too thin, simply scrape it off with your hands and ball it up again. There is no gluten here, so the tortillas will not get tough when reworked.
Check the tortilla. If it seems drastically thinner on one edge, turn the plastic to face the other way and press lightly again to even it out. If it’s paper thin, roll into a ball and start over.
Peel the plastic sleeve away from the tortilla, then turn it into your hand to peel away the other side. I find it helpful to keep a tight angle on the plastic. It’s also helpful (for me) to have a glass of wine nearby. 😉
Working quickly, turn the tortilla over onto the preheated (dry) griddle or skillet. Don’t try to lay it down, just flip it.
Whoa, my hubby was quick with the camera to catch that in mid-air! It doesn’t need to be dramatic, you just want to do it quickly so the tortilla doesn’t stick to your hand.
Cook the first side about 60 seconds, up to 90 seconds. Watch for the edges to lift away, and steam to emerge from below.
Then, flip it! Again, nice camera work, Babe! 🙂
If you love corn tortillas and want to make them at home more regularly, I recommend investment in a tortilla press because it makes it so simple. I picked mine up in a specialty market that carries a wide array of foods and products for Mexican cuisine, and you can easily find them online, too. But what if you’re jonesing to make them right now? Here’s one easy way to do it, using a flat-bottomed glass dish as your “press.” For this batch, I used the blue corn masa harina, and I demonstrate how to incorporate another ingredient: black beans!
To spice up the black bean tortillas, I have added a few shakes of onion powder and ground cumin, plus my pink sea salt.
Heating the beans and water together ensures I have enough of both, and the beans will puree more easily. I’ll whip it up in my smoothie blender, then measure the amount of liquid needed for the tortillas.
From this point, the recipe is the same as for basic tortillas. Mix the liquid into the masa, knead and rest 20 minutes.
You can see little flecks of black bean in the dough, which I love. 🙂
Cut equal wedges and roll each into a ball. Keep the extras covered as you shape them.
Here’s the fun part! Use a flat-bottomed pot or baking dish to press the tortilla. The masa dough is inside the zip top bag as before. Using a clear dish allows me to see how it’s going.
This dish is perfect because the center of the bottom is slightly recessed from the edges. I can press all the way down and still have even thickness.
It’s no big deal if you make a mistake, Just scrape it off the plastic and reshape it into a ball.
Peel the plastic as before and cook on the dry skillet. Place finished tortillas inside a folded clean towel so they remain soft as you cook the others.
Follow the same guidelines for measuring the masa harina as I offer for measuring flour—fluff it up, sprinkle over the measuring cup to overflowing, and then level it off. If you dig a measuring cup directly into the masa bag, you’ll end up with too much and the dough will be dry. The masa should be soft and loose in the measuring cup, not packed tight.
Use warm water, not cold, to mix with the masa flour. I’ve found that the warm water is more easily absorbed and helps to create better dough. Knead the dough until it is soft and smooth, which is usually only a minute or two, though longer kneading will not cause any harm.
Don’t skip the rest time after mixing the masa. This gives enough time for the masa to hydrate fully. If you rush this step, you may find the dough crumbly or sticky (or both) during pressing.
When you roll the dough into balls, it should hold together easily without sticking to your hands, and only showing slight cracks. Trust your instinct; if it feels too dry, wet your hands and knead a few more times. If it’s sticky, lightly dust it with additional masa flour, then knead and rest it again.
I have found a modified zip-top bag more useful than plastic wrap for pressing the tortillas. Use a freezer bag if possible, as it is thicker than a sandwich bag. Cut off the zipper top entirely, and cut down the sides, leaving only the bottom of the bag attached.
Shape the sections of dough into balls all at once, and then place one dough ball inside the zip top bag layers. Keep the other dough balls covered with a damp paper towel or plastic wrap so they don’t dry out. When placing the dough ball in the tortilla press, arrange it slightly off center toward the hinge side. Close the press and use the lever to apply gentle pressure. If the tortilla is noticeably thinner on one edge, turn it and gently press again to even it out. Until you get used to this process, it may help to make slightly thicker tortillas. If you are using a flat-bottomed dish to press them, press your hands on it in a rocking motion all the way around until the tortilla is about 5 inches across. It’s helpful to have a clear dish so you can see the progress.
Focus on peeling the plastic away from the dough, not the other way around, and accept that you may find the first few tries unsuccessful. Hold the plastic bag flat in one hand, and use the other hand to peel, keeping the plastic at a sharp angle to the tortilla. Don’t peel straight up or the tortilla will tear. If the tortilla falls apart, just scrape it into a ball and try again. There is no gluten in corn tortillas, so they will not get tough from extra handling. If the dough feels dry after a few failed attempts, wet your hands and knead it a bit.
The initial cooking of the tortillas should be on a dry skillet or pancake griddle. If you want to fry them later to suit a dish you are making, that will be a separate process. Think of it as a form of bread, which must be baked before it can be toasted or grilled.
Give your griddle or cast-iron skillet enough time to pre-heat, and plan to let your first tortilla be a test. It may take some practice to get the right temperature on your stove or griddle. Be ready to flip them when they look “right,” not by the clock, but aim for somewhere between 60 and 90 seconds.
Have a plate ready, lined with a clean kitchen towel. You’ll want to keep the freshly cooked tortillas wrapped as you complete the rest of the batch—for warmth and also for softness.
If you decide to use pureed vegetables to make flavored tortillas, start with a liquid mixture that is at least 50% water. Pureed vegetables such as spinach or pumpkin are wet, but there is also fiber in them that may change the consistency of the masa. I recommend making basic tortillas a few times to get used to it. As you gain experience making them, you will instinctively know what the dough should feel like, and how to best adjust ratios of other ingredients to produce fun colors and flavors. Here are a few of my favorites: spinach, black bean, pumpkin, cilantro, roasted garlic.
March was National Flour Month, and I’m finally catching up on paying respect to the many ways flour feeds us, beyond the obvious (bread). My first attempts at making handmade pasta 10 years ago were outright disastrous, mostly because I had assumed the method of stirring eggs by fork into a mountain-like peak of all-purpose flour was going to be easy. In my defense, the shows I had watched on Food Network made it seem easy, but in real life, it was a humongous freaking mess that left me cussing up a storm and vowing that I’d “never make that again.” Truth is, it is those really frustrating failures that inspire me the most to give it another go, and I’m so glad I did!
In my later efforts, I enjoyed more success, letting my KitchenAid do the mixing, but there was always something about the handmade pasta that didn’t sit right with me, even after I had invested in a “Made in Italy” hand-crank pasta roller. The dough always seemed heavy or thick, even on the thin roller setting. It fell apart or crumbled, or stuck to the roller or cutting blades. But a few years ago, I found the perfect, James Beard Foundation-approved recipe that fixed all the problems I had encountered. My issue was not only how I was making the dough or rolling the pasta, but also the ratio of ingredients I was using. To that point, I had been using only all-purpose flour and whole eggs (yolks and whites). I had no idea what temperature was best for my ingredients, nor did I fully understand how long to knead the dough or whether it needed to be rested.
I cringe when I see this old photo. Besides all the background junk in my tiny, post-divorce apartment kitchen, the ragged edges on my pasta sheet reveal how much I had yet to learn! 🙂
The better recipe, and the one I use to this day, takes advantage of a special variety of wheat called durum, which is used to make semolina flour, the gold standard in authentic Italian pasta recipes. Semolina lends a warm, slightly nutty flavor, a light yellowish color and a firmer, more toothsome texture. It has been a game changer in my journey to making handmade pasta.
The other big difference was a shift in liquid ingredients in my formula. Rather than using whole eggs, the recipe that has become my standard requires separation of the eggs, using only the yolks, plus an amount of water. Once I found this easy formula, the flavor possibilities became near-endless. And that’s where the real fun of making handmade pasta begins! Being creative with the colors, flavors and shapes of handmade pasta is one of the things that gives me—a home cook—a very satisfying sense of accomplishment.
I won’t claim that handmade pasta is “easy,” because I still feel the ego bruises from my early attempts, but I will say that if you are already making handmade pasta, go on and experiment with the flavors until you find something amazing. New flavors make their way into the mix either in the liquid, perhaps by using finely pureed vegetables as part of the water measurement, or by way of dry add-ins, as I am sharing in today’s post. And if you’re still on the fence about trying handmade pasta, I hope my adventure inspires you!
This recipe has helped me use some of the abundance of fresh herbs I’ve had since my husband, Les, gifted me the countertop hydroponic herb garden that keeps throwing parsley at me. The lemon, parsley and basil combination is terrific and perfect for spring, but you could just as easily flavor your pasta with sun-dried tomatoes, dried mushrooms, roasted red peppers or—well, you can imagine your own (and I do hope you’ll share those fabulous ideas).
Making your own pasta is so much fun. I hope you’ll try it!
8 oz. semolina flour (plus extra for rolling pasta dough)
4 oz. unbleached, all-purpose flour* (see notes)
2 oz. white whole wheat flour*
1/2 tsp. kosher salt
1/2 cup filtered water, room temperature*
2 egg yolks, room temperature*
1 Tbsp. extra virgin olive oil (mine is whole lemon-fused for bright lemon flavor)
Zest of one organic lemon* (only the bright yellow peel)
2 Tbsp. very finely minced fresh herbs (I used a combination of Italian parsley and Genovese basil)
*Notes
All-purpose flour is easy to find, but “00” flour is better if you can get your hands on it. The double-zero flour is milled to a very fine texture, and its use results in tender, silky pasta. I have seen it in well-stocked larger supermarkets, gourmet shops and online. I also use some portion of whole grain flour in my pasta dough, but if you prefer, skip the white whole wheat and make up the difference with equal amount of additional all-purpose or 00 flour.
As with bread dough, I have found that hydration of flour for pasta dough is much improved with room temperature or slightly warm water. Cold water makes for very stiff dough that is tougher to knead.
Eggs are more easily separated when cold, but once this is done, cover the bowl of yolks and let it rest at room temperature for at least 30 minutes before you begin mixing the pasta dough.
Most of the time, conventionally-grown citrus is fine. But when you intend to eat any part of the peel, it’s best to choose organic to avoid chemical pesticides.
Instructions – making the dough
I used a microplane on the lemon, and left the zest and the finely chopped herbs to dry a bit on the cutting board.
Clockwise from the top: all-purpose flour, semolina, white whole wheat (with salt in the center) and a last minute addition of garlic powder right in the middle of it all.
Use a whisk to blend the slightly dried herbs into the dry ingredients.
Combine the egg yolks, olive oil and lemon zest in a glass measuring cup.
Pour in room temperature water and whisk until evenly combined.
Make a well in the center of the dry ingredients, and pour the egg-water mixture into the center of it.
Use the dough hook of the stand mixer, which mimics the action of mixing with a fork. This will take a while, and you’ll want to avoid the temptation to add more water at this point.
At my first squeeze of the pasta dough, it is evident that my mixture is too dry. It should come together in a shaggy but cohesive mass. This is dry and grainy, so I’ll add a tablespoon of water and mix again.
Much better! You can see the difference in hydration already, and it feels more smooth on the surface.
If I can use the mass of dough to pick up all the crumbs from inside the bowl, it’s ready to knead. If too many crumbs stay behind, I would add another small splash of water. This is just right.
Get ready for a workout in this phase. I don’t like the knead that my KitchenAid mixer does here, so I move the dough to the counter and start rolling the dough over itself, rotating it a quarter turn with each knead.
My dough is very firm, and I see lots of “breaking” in the surface as I continue kneading. This is a sign that the dough is still too dry.
I wet my hands and continue to knead. If the dough continues to crack and break a lot, I’ll repeat this as many times as necessary.
Kneading develops the gluten, which allows the pasta to take and hold shape. Some of my early handmade pasta attempts were unsuccessful because I didn’t knead the dough long enough. Go at least 10 minutes, or 15 if you can.
When finished, the kneaded dough should be firm, smooth and supple. A few stretch marks on the surface will be fine, but it should not appear broken. Wrap it tightly in plastic, and send it to the fridge.
Zest the lemon and mince the herbs first, and spread them out on a cutting board so that the add-in ingredients dry out a bit.
Combine flours, salt, lemon zest and lightly dried herbs in the bowl of a stand mixer.
Combine egg yolks and water in a separate bowl and whisk them together until the mixture is light and frothy.
Make a well in the center of the dry ingredients, pour the wet ingredients into the center and use the dough hook to do the blending. Though it might seem logical to mix with the beater blade, using the dough hook completes the blending from the center-out, in the same way as the chefs using only a fork to gradually mix the eggs into the flour. Allow the mixer to do this work for you, until the dough mixture is combined but crumbly, and no dry flour remains in the bowl. Add more water, one tablespoon at a time, if needed to achieve this stage.
Empty the dough onto your work surface, and knead by hand for at least 10 minutes, probably more like 15 minutes. The dough should be smooth and elastic, with no creases or cracks or lumps. If the dough shows any sign of cracking or breaking, wet your hands and continue to knead, repeating as many times as necessary until the smooth texture is achieved.
Wrap the dough tightly in plastic wrap and refrigerate the dough ball at least one hour, or up to overnight. Do not refrigerate more than a day.
Time to make the pasta!
Here’s my work station for rolling pasta dough. My machine is clamped onto the edge of the counter, my cookie sheet and drying rack are ready, and my chilled dough is resting at room temperature.
Remove the pasta dough from the fridge (still wrapped) about 30 minutes before you plan to roll it, to remove some of the chill. Set up your pasta rolling machine, and keep fresh semolina out to aid in rolling and to prevent the dough from sticking. Have a parchment-lined cookie sheet within reach, and set up your drying rack if you’re using one.
Instructions – rolling the pasta
I love my hand-crank pasta machine. ❤ It’s made in Italy, and is very easy to use. The nearby attachment lets me cut my pasta sheets into fettuccine or linguine.
Unwrap the dough and use a bench scraper tool to slice off thick disks of dough. Roll out one disk at a time, and keep the rest tightly wrapped to prevent drying.
Begin by flattening a disk into a long oval shape. You can use a rolling pin to do this, but I usually flatten it by hand. Keep a small pile of semolina handy to dust each side before rolling it through the machine.
With the dial set on the thickest setting, turn the crank to run the dough through the pasta machine. Be ready to receive it on the underside as you go.
The first run-through makes a significant difference in thickness, but don’t rush through the next steps.
After the first pass, fold the rolled dough in half and roll it through again. Repeat this a couple of times.
When the dough passes through the machine easily, Fold it into thirds, as if folding a letter, and then run it through the pasta machine the other direction. This helps build strength in the dough, and also helps prevent curling of the fettuccine later when it is drying.
When the dough is passing evenly, reduce the thickness by one notch and repeat passing it through. On these thinner passes, you do not need to fold and turn the dough as before.
When I get several notches into the process, I find that the dough sheets are too long for me to easily manage. I use the bench scraper to cut the sheet into two pieces, then I continue rolling the sheets individually.
On the thinnest setting, the pasta will be very thin, which is great for a delicate ravioli, but this is too thin for fettuccine. I’ll fold it onto itself and run it through the machine again at the next thicker setting.
How about those beautiful flecks of herb and lemon?! Rest the sheets on a semolina-dusted tray for a few minutes before cutting.
I’ve attached the cutter to my pasta machine, and begin passing the sheets of pasta dough through the fettuccine blades. It helps to have a friend to assist with catching the pasta. I found myself in very awkward positions this time because I was making room for my Les to take pictures. 🙂
To keep the pasta from sticking to itself, toss gently in flour before placing it on a drying rack. I use semolina for this because it is not easily absorbed into the finished dough, and it falls into the pot during cooking.
Separate the pasta strands a bit as you place them on the drying rack. If they stick together, it makes cooking them more challenging. No rack? No problem. Toss the strands in semolina and arrange in small piles on a parchment sheet.
The amount of dough in this recipe will just about fill up a standard drying rack. If you are using the dough to make ravioli, it will make about 30 pillows.
Unwrap the pasta dough and use a bench scraper or sharp knife to slice off sections of dough about one inch thick. Keep remaining dough tightly wrapped until ready to roll, so it doesn’t dry out.
Flatten a piece of dough into an oval-shaped disk, then roll it through the pasta machine on the thickest setting. For the first few passes, fold the pressed dough in half and run it through again on the same setting. Fold it in thirds, as you would fold up a letter, and turn the dough 90° so that it runs through the machine at a different angle. This helps to reduce curling or bending when the pasta dries later. When the dough feels supple after running through the press several times, begin reducing to thinner setting with each pass.
When the dough reaches the desired thickness (either the thinnest or next-to-thinnest setting, allow the sheet to dry slightly before cutting into strips or using as ravioli. In my experience with pasta, the cutting and shaping stage seems to work better when the pasta is not super-soft. If you rush directly to cutting it, at least with a machine, the dough tends to stick in the rollers, and it will definitely stick to a ravioli mold.
After pasta sheets are complete, allow them to rest for a couple of minutes before cutting, either with the pasta machine or by hand with a fluted pasta trimmer, pizza slicer or sharp knife. If cutting by hand, the simplest way is to fold the pasta sheet crosswise multiple times, and slice through the layers with a pizza wheel or sharp knife. Dust the pasta really well with extra semolina flour before cutting to minimize sticking.
This time, I’ve opted to use the cutter attachment for my pasta roller to fashion my lemon-herb pasta into fettucine strips, but this lemony pasta would also be terrific for making sweet crab-stuffed ravioli, or ricotta-filled tortellini. I will save those for another day. 🙂
We used the lemon-herb pasta in a couple of ways—first, with littleneck clams in white wine broth, and again as a base for an amazing dish of chicken thighs in vodka sauce that Les made for us.
We have entered the last full week of March, and I’ve yet to mention that it is “National Flour Month,” a near-unforgivable oversight for someone who enjoys making homemade bread as much as I do. My adventures with sourdough have been well-documented here on Comfort du Jour, but it took St. Patrick’s Day to bring me back around to making our favorite sourdough pumpernickel. It had to be done, given the volume of homemade corned beef we have (not to mention all that pastrami), and the rising aroma of this bread from the oven was enough on its own to convince me I’d waited too long.
What makes this bread extra special for me is that I make my own flour for it, from freshly milled rye grain. This sounds more impressive than it really is, thanks to a handy grain mill that latches onto my KitchenAid stand mixer. I just turn the dial to select the grind, pour in the grain and turn it on. I purchased the mill in the summer of 2016, when “Pete,” my sourdough starter, was still wet behind the ears, and I’ve found it particularly useful for some of my lesser-used grains, including rye. After whole grain has been milled into flour, the freshness clock starts ticking, and there is nothing tasty about rancid flour. Now, when I want to make rye bread (or pumpernickel, which is technically almost the same), I mill the grain fresh, but only the amount I need, and I’m good to go with flour that far excels what I could have bought pre-milled.
Milling the grain myself allows me to grind only the amount I need, so my whole grain stays fresh longer.
This recipe relies on sourdough for rise and flavor, though there is also a small (optional) amount of instant dry yeast to boost the rising power and make the ferment time more predictable. As with many other sourdough loaves, this one begins the day before with a pre-ferment called a “sponge,” and that’s when the freshly milled rye flour starts working its magic. The rest of the flour is high-protein bread flour, which is needed for its strength because rye does not have a lot of gluten.
Coarse-milled whole rye grain is known as pumpernickel meal, and it may surprise you to know that the dark, rich color of “pumpernickel” bread is mostly for show, and it comes into the bread by way of either caramel color (which isn’t likely in your pantry), strong coffee (either liquid or powdered) or—as is the case with mine—cocoa powder! And no, it does not make the bread taste like chocolate. There’s also an unusual, time-honored technique that will come into play with this bread, and it involves bread from another time (more on that in a minute).
Up to this point, the sourdough pumpernickel recipe I’m describing has been drawn straight from p. 246 of Peter Reinhart’s The Bread Baker’s Apprentice, the same book I depended on to learn sourdough baking in the first place. But something in my nature will not let me leave well enough alone, and I have put my own spin on this recipe—not because I think I know better than the author, but because I love certain additional flavors in my rye breads, and so I have either substituted or added ingredients, following rules that Reinhart himself would approve. Rather than brown sugar, I add molasses for a deep, earthy sweetness, and I accent this bread with onions, dill and caraway seeds, none of which are called for in the original recipe.
Molasses adds an earthy sweetness, as well as deep color.
Onion is a terrific companion to the rye, dill and caraway. I use about a tablespoon of minced dry onion, moistened with just enough hot water to cover it. Give it a few minutes to plump up.
My recipe requires oil, and I’ve chosen this dill-infused olive oil. I’m always pushing my foods an extra step forward in flavor.
Caraway is the flavor most people associate with rye or pumpernickel bread, and it can be polarizing. If you “don’t like rye,” it’s probably not the rye grain, but the caraway.
The resulting bread never ceases to thrill my taste buds, and it has been terrific this past week with our homemade corned beef, but I confess my favorite way to enjoy it is the same as most every bread—it makes fabulous toast!
Just give me this, every day for the rest of my life, please!
Ingredients
On Day 1:
7 oz. ripe (recently fed) sourdough starter
4.25 oz. coarse whole grain rye flour* (see notes)
6 oz. water, room temperature
Combine the starter, coarse rye flour and water in a medium bowl. Cover with plastic wrap and let it ferment at room temperature about 5 hours, until it looks very bubbly and active. Transfer the sponge to the refrigerator overnight.
On Day 2:
2 Tbsp. molasses
2 oz. water, room temperature
2 Tbsp. olive oil (mine is infused with dill)
1 heaping Tbsp. minced dried onion, rehydrated with warm water
9 oz. bread flour*
1 Tbsp. cocoa powder* (optional, see notes)
1 tsp. instant dry yeast*
1 1/2 tsp. fine-textured salt
1 Tbsp. caraway seed, plus a few sprinkles for topping* (optional)
Up to a cup of dry bread crumbs from a previous rye loaf* (optional)
1 or 2 tsp. dried dill leaves (optional)
Egg wash for topping and cornmeal for baking
*Notes
If you don’t have a grain mill, it’s no problem. Use whole rye flour, which is available in specialty markets such as Whole Foods. The pre-milled flour and resulting bread will have a finer texture, but all the flavors will still be present.
I mentioned above that strong coffee is sometimes used to give deep color to pumpernickel, but for this recipe, I would not recommend using brewed coffee in the overnight sponge. Espresso powder or a fine-textured instant coffee mixed with the flour would be a better bet if coffee is your coloring agent of choice.
Caraway seeds give a distinct note to rye or pumpernickel bread, but it is a polarizing flavor for some people. When someone tells me they don’t like rye bread, I usually assume it is the caraway. It is a warm, slightly biting flavor, and I love it, so I put it in the dough and also on top of the bread.
The addition of the “old” bread crumbs is optional, but it adds an interesting texture and depth of flavor to the finished bread. In a way, the secondary crumbs are another type of sourdough, given that the flavor and existing yeast in them contribute something to the final product. If you choose to try this, I would recommend using crumbs from a home-baked bread, and preferably sourdough, to exclude unnecessary commercial preservatives and such.
Instructions
The whole rye grain, plus water, is added to a cup of ripe sourdough starter, and it ferments to become a “sponge” for the finished dough.
Here is the sponge at the starting point, freshly mixed.
And after! I allowed the sponge to ferment about 5 hours, then it went into the refrigerator overnight, where even more flavor develops from the grain. It needs an hour or so to warm up, then I’ll begin making the final dough.
Though technically still a sourdough recipe, the dough gets about a teaspoon of instant dry yeast. It gives a boost to raise the dense rye dough, and makes rising time more predictable.
For the deep color associated with pumpernickel, I’ve chosen a tablespoon of my double Dutch dark cocoa from King Arthur. Regular cocoa will do just fine, or equal amount of espresso powder. Neither affects the flavor of the bread.
This is the weird, old-fashioned trick. Adding a small amount of “old” rye bread crumbs to the dough adds really interesting texture. It is optional, and I would not recommend store-bought bread for this. I will save a slice of this current loaf for the same purpose next time.
Mix together all the dry ingredients in one bowl.
Combine the wet ingredients in another bowl.
Mix the two together, rest for a few minutes, then knead a few minutes.
Shape the pumpernickel dough into a ball and transfer it to an oiled bowl. Cover it with plastic, a damp towel or an elastic bowl cover. Place it somewhere warm, such as the microwave above the stove until it doubles in size.
Boom! My pumpernickel dough went a little crazy in two hours time. It has more than doubled, so I will have to watch it closely in the next stage.
Spread the dough out into a rectangle on a clean, lightly floured countertop, sprinkle with dill leaves, and roll it up tightly, tucking the sides as you go.
When the roll is complete, pinch along the edge of the roll to seal it.
Place the dough, seam side down, into a 9-inch bread pan that has been oiled and lightly dusted with cornmeal. Cover and proof in a warm place until the dough has risen to one inch above the top.
Holy moly, it went crazy again! This dough has some serious yeast action going on, but this is not a disaster. I brushed it with egg wash and sprinkled it with seeds, and into the 350° oven it went.
Bake the bread 20 minutes, then rotate the pan and bake 20 to 30 minutes more. Mine was done (190° F internal temp) at 50 minutes. Transfer to a cooling rack and cool completely before slicing.
The outside of the bread has a slight chewiness, and the inside (we bread nerds call it “the crumb”) is soft and tender, with little flecks of onion, caraway and dill throughout.
The day before you intend to make this sourdough pumpernickel, you will need to feed your starter with the entire amount of coarse, whole grain rye flour and water to make it a soupy mixture. Cover it with plastic wrap and give it a few hours at room temperature until it becomes foamy and bubbly, then put it to bed in the fridge until morning.
Remove the sponge from the fridge for about an hour to knock the chill off it. Pour a small amount of boiling water over the dried chopped onions to re-hydrate them.
In the mixing bowl of a stand mixer, combine the bread flour, cocoa, salt, instant dry yeast and caraway seed. If using the “old bread” technique, also add the crumbs to the flour blend.
Stir water, molasses and oil into the fermented sponge.
Combine the sponge mixture and re-hydrated onions with the dry ingredients and mix with a beater blade until dough becomes a cohesive mass around the beater. Scrape down dough, cover the bowl with plastic wrap or a slightly damp towel and rest 30 minutes.
Switch to the dough hook and knead in the stand mixer about 5 minutes. The dough will be dense and sticky, but resist the temptation to add more flour or you will end up with a gummy bread.
Shape dough into a smooth ball and place it in a large, oiled bowl. Cover and rest in a quiet, warm spot of the kitchen until dough has doubled in size, which may be anywhere from 2 to 3 hours, depending on ambient room temperature.
Grease a 9-inch loaf pan and sprinkle corn meal into the pan, tapping to distribute it evenly in the pan.
Turn dough out onto a lightly floured counter, pressing and stretching the dough into an oblong shape, about 8 inches wide and 16 inches long. Sprinkle the dried dill onto the dough, then roll it up into a loaf shape to match the length of your bread pan. The loaf will rise more evenly if the ends of the dough meet the ends of the pan. Cover with plastic wrap or an elastic cover and let the bread proof 60 to 90 minutes, until dough has risen to about an inch above the rim of the pan.
Near the end of the proofing time, preheat the oven to 350° F, with rack in the center.
Brush the surface of the bread with egg wash and sprinkle it with additional caraway seeds.
Bake for 45 minutes, turning bread halfway through baking time. Internal temperature should be about 190° F and the bread should sound hollow when thumped on the bottom.
Turn bread out onto a cooling rack, and cool completely before slicing.
No, this pretty girl is not asking for pumpernickel. She can smell butter from 100 miles away!
April, I have decided, is a lovely time to visit New York. When my husband, Les, and I traveled there for our honeymoon trip a few years ago, I realized that being in the city with someone who grew up in the city is the best experience of all. When you are traveling with a “native son,” you don’t feel as much like a tourist, but you quickly get used to the idea of walking—a lot. Les and I walked, on average, about 6 miles each day, and I was free to enjoy the scenery along the way. In New York, in April, there were tulips everywhere.
I especially love the single red tulip amongst all the black and whites!
The city was abuzz with the sounds, sights and smell of spring, and I was positively in love—with N.Y., of course, but especially with my husband of only a few days. His confidence in navigating the city of his youth gave me even more reason to appreciate being with him. I didn’t have to worry about a thing! Les knew instinctively which subway trains to take for various planned excursions, what time to leave and (most importantly) where to go for the best food, including John’s on Bleecker Street for pizza, which became the gold standard in my own effort to achieve the perfect N.Y. pizza dough.
One of our day trips included a visit to the Freedom Tower, now the tallest building in N.Y., at the site where the North Tower of the World Trade Center once stood. We had visited the landmark and the memorial earlier in the week, and merely seeing the names of the people who died on that dark day of history was truly devastating. I cannot (and don’t want to) imagine what it must have been like to witness those events.
There are not enough words.
We had intended to ascend the Freedom Tower on that first visit, but were offered a reschedule on our tickets because of heavy fog that apparently made visibility from the top almost nil. We had better luck on the second visit, and the view from the One World Observatory was jaw-dropping.
I wondered how many people down there might have been looking up to where we were standing. And how about that dreadful smog?
All that walking left us feeling pretty hungry, and our steps (and appetite) led us to the Lower East Side, to the most iconic eatery in all of Manhattan.
You know you’re excited when you take a screenshot of your “arrival!” 🙂
From the outside, Katz’s Delicatessen is pretty unassuming—just an old-school corner building with a neon-letter sign—but inside, the joint was jumping! We squeezed into line with all the other hungry tourists and locals, pulled our tickets and shouted our orders to the sandwich makers behind the counter, who were generously offering samples of the deliciousness to come. It was the most exciting lunch I’ve ever eaten, in a place you’ve probably seen, even if you have never visited New York. Katz’s Deli was the setting for the famous “I’ll have what she’s having” scene in the film, When Harry Met Sally. And if you do visit the city—you know, when the world reopens—I highly recommend a visit to Katz’s, and I highly recommend that you have what I had—the $23 pastrami on rye. Worth. Every. Penny.
My pastrami in the foreground; Les’s corned beef in the back. It was a collective mountain of food!
When business is booming, Katz’s reportedly sells 15,000 pounds of pastrami a week—and as you can see, most of that ends up on one sandwich. I did my best to stretch my jaw onto that thing, and my city-savvy hubby had to show me how it’s done, face-first and with both hands.
How are you even supposed to eat a sandwich that big?!
Like this, Love!
We had a ton of leftovers, of course, so we wrapped up the remains of our sammies and took them back to our room. It was on this trip that I learned cold leftover pastrami on rye is fantastic for breakfast.
I’ve had a hankering to try making pastrami at home ever since that trip, and although we cannot match what they do at Katz’s(at least, not without giving up our full-time jobs), Les and I were pretty darn excited with the results of our first pastrami effort. When we began our corned beef adventure this year, we had purchased two large, grass-fed briskets, knowing that both would be brined at least a week, and that one would travel on to the smoker with a spicy dry rub to become pastrami. My inspiration came from Katz’s, but my recipe is drawn mostly from The Gefilte Manifesto (Jeffrey Yoskowitz and Liz Alpern), the same book that inspired my pierogi with potato, leek and spinach last fall. Jeffrey’s pastrami recipe instructed a 7-day brine, followed by extensive rinsing, a generous rub-down with copious amounts of spices and, finally, several hours in the smoker.
Our driveway, where the smoker was set up, smelled like the stuff deli dreams are made of, and our first pastrami was fabulous! I will not torture you with three pages of ingredients and details, because you probably just want to see the pictures, anyway. So, here you go!
After the brine, we rinsed the brisket continuously for over an hour. Can’t wait to get our next water bill!
I ground all the spices in my old coffee grinder. The aroma was intoxicating.
We dried the brisket thoroughly, then brushed it all over with oil.
The ground spice rub was massaged into every fiber of the meat.
My hands may be permanently stained!
After a night uncovered in the fridge, it’s ready for smoke!
Hubby is the “smoke master.” We also smoked a variety of sausages and a big slab of fresh salmon.
We did our best to keep it at 225 F the entire time.
The salmon came off first, and it was UNBELIEVABLE.
Would you please join me in admiring this perfect smoke ring? Wow.
The pastrami was about half its original size after smoking, and it smelled amazing.
Pastrami bark! Burnt ends are the best things ever.
And that smoke ring…
In reviewing all my notes and looking back at the instructions offered in The Gefilte Manifesto, we realize that we made a couple of missteps, primarily with the finishing of the pastrami. We should have waited to cut into it, pending an overnight in the fridge and a two-hour steaming. But the aroma caused us to lose our minds a bit, and so we just charged in and cut the thing. Fantastic flavors, and we will steam the slices as we go. We’ve got nothing on Katz’s Delicatessen, but our pastrami was pretty darn delicious. We will absolutely do this again, and by that time, we hope to invite all of our meat-loving friends to join us for a pastrami feast, fresh and hot off the smoker. Who’s bringing the potato salad? 😀
It has been a fun week of St. Patrick’s Day-themed food prep at our house. As I’ve chopped and cooked, hustling from one recipe to another and digging into the history of the foods associated with Ireland, I’ve felt an almost spiritual connection to the Irish people. Theirs is a rich and layered culture, and my background music of choice, the Springsteen album Live in Dublin, gave me additional inspiration. Here’s a taste, for your listening pleasure as you tag along for the rest of my corned beef adventure.
It has been a deliciously rich week, too. We’ve shared these tasty recipes, including two versions of mashed potatoes, a no-yeast bread, a no-bake dessert and some bangin’ sausages. By the time we finish the leftovers, I expect I will have sweet Irish butter flowing through my veins. Wow!
The Irish food party started last week, when I detailed our adventures with making our own corned beef. Whether or not you jumped on the DIY wagon with us, I thought you may appreciate seeing the end result. As mentioned, we avoid meats processed with nitrates and nitrites, so I certainly do not go out of my way to find or use them in our homemade version of this St. Patrick’s Day classic. The ingredients we do use to brine our grass-fed brisket—kosher salt, pickling spices, brown sugar, Irish ale, celery juice and sauerkraut brine—add layers of flavor, and we don’t care about the pinkish color the added nitrates would have otherwise lent.
Let’s pick up where we left off, from the point of pouring the brine over the briskets and sending them to the refrigerator for a nice, long nap. I noted that we would finally make good on our goal of making pastrami from one of the briskets, and we have done that (I’ll share it tomorrow), but corned beef is the guest of honor this week, and the post-brine process is very simple. I turned the briskets each day to help them brine evenly, and the corned beef got an extra day’s soak on Sunday—a total of eight days, which is about right for a nearly 6-pound hunk of meat. I rinsed it thoroughly, nestled it into the slow cooker on top of celery and onion chunks, and sprinkled it with about half a bottle of fresh pickling spices. We have done corned beef nearly the same way for several years, so I decided to try a twist that I saw in my news feed, though I cannot for the life of me remember the source. Anyway, the suggestion was to use white wine in the brining liquid. This makes perfect sense to me, given that I use wine to roast so many other meats, so I tried it. This will become a new standard for us.
This may well be the best batch of homemade corned beef we have ever made. The meat is perfectly tender and easy to slice, and the flavors are richly entwined with every fiber of the meat. The flavor is richer and more complex than any store-bought corned beef I’ve had, and my husband, Les, suggested that it rivaled the delicious corned beef we enjoyed a few years ago at Katz’s delicatessen in New York!
Instructions
After eight days in the flavorful brine, our brisket is ready to be cooked. You can cook it stovetop, or follow my lead and use the slow cooker.
I don’t intend to serve the onions and celery, and I’ve only used enough to keep the brisket off the bottom of the slow cooker.
My brisket is longer than the slow cooker, so I’ve tucked one end under to make it fit.
I’ve talked to several people this week who had trouble finding the pickling spice. Isn’t it strange, how the pandemic has interrupted the supply chain for such specific things? Anyway, I sprinkled half the bottle over the brisket.
Secret weapon: dry white wine! I found this tip online and it makes sense. I used 1/2 cup of pinot grigio, plus enough water to cover the brisket.
Despite my efforts to keep the brisket submerged, it kept floating up! No worries, I turned it over and it came out completely tender.
Corned beef, meet your BFF, cabbage and carrots. I boiled them in a couple of ladles of the brisket’s cooking broth.
It always startles me to see how much a brisket shrinks when you cook it. This corned beef is not pink like the grocery store version, but it packs a ton of terrific flavor!
I cut this point piece along the fat line, to remove it from the “flat” part of the brisket (see next slide).
These two pieces are sometimes sold individually at the meat counter. Both are delicious as corned beef.
For best results, and a tender bite, you want to pay attention to the “grain” of the meat and cut against it. Here, my knife is pointed along the same direction as the meat fibers. These slices would be tough.
Here, my knife is angled to cut across the meat fibers, and my thin slices will be tender and easy to eat.
Even without the added nitrates, there is a slight pink color to my corned beef. It’s completely moist and tender, and so yummy!
Happy St. Patrick’s Day!
Remove brisket from brine and brush away as much of the picking spice mixture as possible. Discard the brine, and I’d recommend that you pour it through a colander to strain out the seeds, berries, bay leaves, and chunky solids that might otherwise clog your kitchen drain.
Rinse the brisket. Cut up a whole yellow onion and a few stalks of celery. Scatter the aromatic vegetables into the bottom of a large pot or slow cooker. Place the brisket, fat side-up, on top of the vegetables. Sprinkle about half a bottle of fresh pickling spices over the brisket.
Pour in 1/2 cup dry white wine, and enough water into the pot to completely cover the meat. Bring pot to a slight boil, then reduce heat and simmer about one hour per pound of meat, until brisket is desired tenderness.
Carefully remove brisket from the cooking liquid and rest on a cutting board for 15 minutes before cutting.
If you are cooking cabbage and carrots to accompany the corned beef, but them on to boil now, and use the brisket braising liquid to echo the corned beef flavors.
Slice brisket against the grain—opposite the direction of the meat fibers.
You’ll find that the corned beef slices particularly well after chilling. To reheat slices of corned beef, place slices in a steamer basket over simmering water. Or, strain more of the braising liquid into a jar and keep it in the fridge for steaming the leftovers. Why waste that flavor? 🙂
Comfort du Jour 