David Tanis’s Roasted Quail with Grilled Radicchio and Creamy Polenta

•November 15, 2008 • 2 Comments

dsc04044from A Platter of Figs and Other Recipes, pp. 167-70.

Ever since I saw an approving review of Chez Panisse head chef David Tanis’s first volume of recipes in Gourmet Magazine a few months ago, I decided this would be my next cookbook purchase. It wasn’t, but it was quite literally the next best purchase of a cookbook I made. Tanis divides his book into seasonal menus, which is not particularly convenient for browsing — if I’m looking for a recipe by main ingredient, I’d like to thumb through a section on that main ingredient. I quibble. Few cookbooks have as many appealing and seemingly achievable dishes as this one. He concentrates on simple but creative preparations of good ingredients. Without question, the book is worth its price. Reading through it has also inspired me to return soon to Chez Panisse to taste the cooking one more time.

And that adventure looks more likely than ever now that Rachel, the daughter of my good friend Sherry, has been hired there to bus tables. Apparently, most employees at Chez Panisse begin as busers. Rachel will clear and set up plates for the cooks in the kitchen for a while and then gradually make the transition to the dining rooms. After that, she has the option of moving on to the wait-staff and possibly beyond that. She reports that the working conditions in the restaurant and café reflect Alice Water’s generosity and commitment to a healthy and content workplace. In addition to full benefits, she has one meal and one glass of wine each shift she works, significant discounts on books, and an even more significant one at Kermit Lynch’s wine store. Alice Waters has made her restaurant a very good and supportive place to work.

Tanis divides the recipe into three parts, which is fitting since he spends half of every year in Caesar’s Gaul:

Serves 8 -10

16 semiboneless quail, about 1/4 lb each

salt and pepper

Olive oil

2 Tb chopped thyme leaves

2 Tb chopped sage leaves

6 garlic clove, thinly sliced

16 thin slices pancetta or bacon

Creamy Polenta (recipe follows)

Oven-Grilled Radicchio (recipe follows)

Season each quail inside and out with salt and pepper and drizzle with a few drops of olive oil.

In a small bowl, mix together the thyme, sage, and garlic. Put a small spoonful of the mixture inside each bird. Wrap each bird with a slice of pancetta. Put in a baking dish and refrigerate for up to several hours, or overnight. Bring to room temperature before cooking.

Preheat the oven to 400 F. Put the quail breast side down in a shallow roasting pan (two pans side by side is easier) and slide onto the oven’s top rack.

When the birds begin to sizzle, after 8 minutes or so, turn them breast side up. Continue roasting for 10 to 12 minutes more, until the quail are nicely browned and crisp and the juices run clear when the thigh is probed with the tip of a knife.

Remove the birds from the oven and let them rest about 10 minutes, loosely covered.

Pour the polenta onto a large platter. Lay the quail on the polenta and spoon the juices over the birds. Surround with the grilled radicchio.

Creamy polenta:

Use 4 parts water to 1 part polenta. Once made, the polenta can sit for another hour.

Bring 12 cups water to a boil in a large heavy-bottomed pot over a high flame. Add 2 tsp salt and 3 cups stone-ground polenta and stir well with a sturdy whisk. When the water returns to the boil and the polenta begins to thicken, after a minute or two, turn the flame to low. Continue to stir while the polenta gets its bearings. After a few minutes, it will be bubbling very gently, with the occasional ploop. Stir the polenta every 10 minutes or so. If it seems to be getting too thick, splash a little milk on top and stir it in — do this occasionally, or as necessary.

After 45 minutes or so, the polenta should be nearly cooked and ready for tasting. Spoon out a small amount on a plate and let it cool slightly — hot polenta straight from the pot is likely to burn the roof of your mouth. You’re looking for a lush, corn flavor and a texture that’s smooth, not grainy.

Now add salt and pepper to taste, and another splash of milk, and stir well. Cook for 15 minutes longer, then taste again. Stir in a stick of softened butter. Turn off the heat and let the polenta rest, covered, for 15 minutes before serving. Covered, it will stay warm and soft for up to an hour.

Oven-grilled radicchio:

For each serving, count on 2 wedges of radicchio; 4 small heads will yield 8 servings.

Peel any damaged or tough outer leaves from the radicchio. Cut into thick wedges and place in an earthenware gratin dish or shallow baking dish. Drizzle the wedges with olive oil and sprinkle with salt and pepper.

Preheat the oven to 400 F. Bake on the top shelf for 10 to 15 minutes, until well browned and nearly, but not quite, charred. The radicchio can be cooked up to several hours in advance, then reheated in the hot oven when the birds come out.

How I set about reconstructing his recipe:

Fresh quail can be ridiculously expensive ($5 a piece at my local market!), but I have found frozen packs of farmed quail in the specialty frozen sections of up-scale supermarkets. What’s more, I ignored the “semiboneless.” I don’t mind picking up and gnawing on the little birds and neither do most of my friends.

As is clear in the photo, I more than halved the recipe. I had two friends to dinner to eat six quail. They’re appreciative but not big eaters, so I had one quail left over.

I prepared the quail the night before. When I began to cook, however, I grilled the radicchio, took it out and covered with foil, and then a little over one hour before I calculated I would remove the quail from the oven, I started to make the polenta. The 10-minutes stirring intervals make coordinating the three elements easy.

Because I suspect my oven is running cold these days, I preheated the oven to 475 and then reduced it to 425 when I put the birds in to roast. The cooking times worked perfectly, although the pancetta and quail did not brown as much as I had hoped. Nor did the quail render much juice.

For the polenta: I used 2 cups of polenta in 8 cups of water. It drank up nearly a 1/3 cup of whole milk before it reached a creamy state. I cooked the polenta on the lowest flame. After the polenta had cooked for 45 minutes, I put the quail in the oven.

Final thoughts:

Tanis is absolutely correct when he insists in the recipe’s preamble on cooking the polenta for a full hour. The grains softened and dissolved and the polenta came out creamier than I’ve ever made it before. I may use less milk next time.

Next time, I may substitute Cornish game hens for the quail. They’re cheaper and they are likely to render more juices.

I also may play with the garlic-thyme-sage mixture. If I roast hens instead, perhaps the herbs would do well under the skin next to the breast meat.

We drank a Cotes du Rhone but switched to a 2006 Pinot Noir from San Luis Obispo (Tolosa), which we all agreed flattered the food.

Food Alone: Stuffed Cabbage alla siciliana

•October 28, 2008 • No Comments

At the end of the month, I get creative. Stretching the last few dollars and the remaining food in my house becomes a challenge. It’s usually in these circumstances that I forego the cookbooks and try to put together food that will last a couple of days. For reasons I can no longer remember, I have a savoy cabbage, a couple of tomatoes, and a few dark Japanese eggplants in my refrigerator. There are plenty of stewed tomatoes that I made from the summer’s abundance in my freezer. Do I prepare and eat them separately or do I try to find a way to put them together?

I’ve placed this recipe in the Food Alone category for the simple reason that I made it for myself and I expect to get about three meals out of it. What’s more, stuffed cabbage strikes me as a fall and winter dish and even though it’s still in the low 80s/high 70s outside, I like to eat in anticipation of the weather. I look forward to hibernating.

So, here’s how I made my stuffed cabbage:

1 small head of savoy cabbage

Garlic, minced

2-3 Tblsp olive oil

1 cup long-grained white rice

2 Japanese eggplant diced in tiny cubes

2 tomatoes diced in tiny cubes

Mint, chopped

1/3 cup raisins

kosher salt

2 cups or one 28-oz can of organic stewed or whole tomatoes, with some of their juices

toothpicks

handful of chopped parsley

First, chop up the eggplant, tomato, and mint. Set aside.

While a pot of water was coming to a boil, I carefully separated the leafs of the savoy cabbage. I blanched them, two at a time, in the boiling water for 2 minutes and then drained them. Then I put them in a bowl to the side. I liked using Savoy. The leaves retained their bowl-like shape, which made it easier to fill and then close them up with toothpicks.

I started the rice in my rice cooker while I prepared the rest of the filling.

I warmed the olive oil in a skillet and added the garlic. One common direction in recipes that begin with sauteing garlic is to put the heat on medium or high. I don’t know why. Garlic burns easily. I start off with a low flame under garlic and raise it as I add other ingredients that will help protect the garlic from browning too much and becoming bitter.

After about a minute, add the finely diced eggplant. Because the pieces are so small, they’ll cook quickly and their size will make it suitable for the filling. Add the chopped tomato and cook for a few minutes. Add the mint, raisins, and kosher salt to taste. As usual, I find it can stand a liberal dose of kosher salt. Add to the vegetables in the skillet as much of the cooked rice as you think is necessary for the filling. I didn’t use the whole amount, but about 1/2 to 2/3s of what I prepared. Push all the filling to one side of the skillet, so that you can place the stuff cabbage packets back into the skillet as you prepare them.

Filling the cabbage leaves demands restraint. Spoon less than you’re inclined to put in. It will make it easier to fold the stiff spine of the leaf and the sides together into the shape of a packet. Seal with a toothpick. Place the packet back into the skillet.

When you’ve filled all the cabbage leaves and placed them back in the skillet, pour the stewed tomatoes over the packets and turn the heat to medium. When the tomatoes come to a simmer, turn the flame down. I let them simmer in the tomatoes and their juices for about half an hour. By the time I removed them from the heat, the tomatoes had reduced a bit. I strew choppped parsley leaves over the cabbage and transferred a few to my plate.

Afterthoughts:

I have no idea whether Sicilians consider stuffed cabbage a part of their heritage, but the flavors I chose certainly reminded me of those that I tasted in Sicily. It’s a peasant-ish dish, after all. The vivid red of the tomatoes contributed to the pleasure of eating the cabbage. This was easy enough to make that I’d like to play around with other fillings. Next time, perhaps I’ll use ground pork. But on the whole a very forgiving recipe. And I definitely will have two more meals with the leftovers.

Judy Rodgers’ Cornmeal Biscotti

•October 18, 2008 • No Comments

from The Zuni Café Cookbook, pp. 478-79.

Whether eaten with coffee at breakfast or wine after a meal, freshly-made biscotti seem like a luxury. Recently, a friend gave me some biscotti she made and I’ve been enjoying them with my coffee and hard-boiled egg that I have most mornings. I got the idea of making my own biscotti to have them on hand, as one more little luxury I treat myself to as a live-alone Solitaire.

Now that I’ve tried two recipes, they strike me more than ever like a luxury because they’re trickier to bake than I expected. Either they are too soft or they are too hard. It takes practice to know how biscotti are supposed to feel and look as dough, at the end of the first baking, and at the end of the second. In the photo above, there are two kinds. The first recipe I tried was the Gourmet Cookbook’s Dried Cranberries and Pistachio Biscotti. The second is the one I’m presenting here. As scrumptious as these biscotti turned out to be, this recipe contains a number of pitfalls and one important omission. But first things first.

Let’s see what Judy says:

For about 24 large or 36 two-bite-sized biscotti:

3/4 cup hazelnuts or almonds (4 1/2 oz)

4 Tbl cold salted butter

1/2 cup plus 2 Tbls sugar

1 large cold egg

1 1/2 tsp anisette

1 1/4 cups all-purpose flour (about 5 1/2 oz)

2 Tbl fine cornmeal

1 tsp baking powder

1/2 tsp salt

1 1/2 tsp anise seeds

Preheat oven to 325. Line a baking sheet with parchment paper.

Roast the nuts on a small baking sheet until they are fragrant and beginning to color on the inside, about 15 minutes. If using hazelnuts, gather them in a towel, beanbag-style, rub to remove some of the papery skin, and then pick out the nuts. Finely chop 1/4 cup of the nuts; coarsely chop the remainder.

In a medium bowl, barely cream the butter with the sugar. Beat in the egg and anisette.

In a separate bowl, combine the nuts, flour, cornmeal, baking powder, salt, and anise seeds. Add to the butter mixture and mix until homogenous.

Divide the dough in half. Roll the dough into logs about 1 inch in diameter. The dough should be cold enough to handle without difficulty, though you may need to dust the counter with a little additional flour if the logs start to stick.

Place the logs on the baking sheet, spacing them at least a few inches apart; they will swell considerably. Bake until slightly brown and firm on the surface, but yielding to light pressure, about 15 to 20 minutes. Rotate the pan if they are browning unevenly. Don’t underbake, or the baking powder will not complete its job, and the cookies will be hard and dense rather than crisp and with a great coarse texture.

Transfer the cookie logs to a cutting board and slice on an angle about 1/2 to 3/4 inch thick. Place cut side down on the warm baking sheet and bake for another 5 minutes or so to brown lightly. Cool completely, then store in an airtight container.

Variation: Substitute very coarsely chopped raw pistachios for the almonds and grappa for the anisette.

When I made this recipe…

I owe a lot of these tips to Sherry, who steered me through the shoals of baking biscotti.

The most important points to bear in mind are:

  • Flatten the log of dough a little. It’s strange that Judy doesn’t mention that. Flattening it gives biscotti their distinctive crescent shape when you slice the log of dough after the first baking.
  • The crispness of the biscotti depends on baking the logs completely — not too soon and not too long. Rodgers says the log of dough ought to be firm with a slight spring-back. That direction did not correspond to what I saw and felt. Throughout the first baking, the log felt spongy. I took it out of the oven when the log expanded to the point where cracks began to appear along the top. It still felt soft.
  • My baking times differed by much from Sherry’s cooking times. I had to bake the biscotti about 10 mins longer than the recipe called for. Just keep your eye and fingertip on it. You’ll have to judge for yourself.
  • Don’t overdo the second baking. That’s when biscotti can become teeth-breakers. They should be barely golden toasty.
  • After the first baking, let it cool 10-15 mins before you slice up the log for the second baking.
  • Use a serrated knife and run it under the tap each time before you slice. Hold on to the baked log and very carefully slice through.
  • Remember that the biscotti will harden for a while as they cool both after the first baking and after the second.

Regarding ingredients, Sherry recommends Trader Joe’s unsalted roasted almonds. That saves a step.

I left out the anisette, but used the fennel (anise) seeds and the flavor came through.

Salted butter is important. The biscotti will be bland otherwise.

I used an Kitchen-Aid upright mixer with the paddle attachment to mix the batter. This batter was drier than the one I made according to the Gourmet Cookbook recipe.

The smaller the biscotti, the easier they are to bake. For the first batch I made, I made logs that resulted in biscotti about 3 to 4 inches long. They required a longer initial bake and still never hardened sufficiently. Judy’s recommendation of 1-inch diamater was too small.

When I make this recipe again…

If you look closely at the photo, the first Gourmet Cookbook biscotti did not bake long enough in the first baking. Hence, you can see they look a little chewy cookie-like. Baking times in my oven will be what I watch for most carefully.