Rooftop Gourmet

From time to time, I get these crazy ideas for a dish and start experimenting in the kitchen. Most of the time these wacky ideas never get published for whatever reason, but once in a while they blow my mind and I can’t wait to write about them. For the past few weeks, I’ve been thinking about innovative, healthy meals and really trying to concentrate on portion control. My first instinct is usually a light seafood dish that most likely doesn’t hit the comfort zone in the dead of winter, while surrounded by multiple feet of powder. I was craving something rich, savory, and filling…and healthy. Is that even possible?

The other day, a lightbulb went on and my brain started spitting out crazy ideas. Most of the dishes I create are centered around a protein, while the vegetables are always playing second fiddle.

Screw portion control, why can’t I make the vegetable the star of the show and give the meat a break? That way I can eat enough to fill my belly and not worry about consuming a large portion of something that’s really good for me. Siobhan loves all types of squash so I picked up a few butternuts and cut them into massive “steaks” that looked like bricks of solid gold.

I was going to treat the squash as if I was pan roasting a couple of NY strips. Instead of going the traditional steakhouse route and finishing the “steaks” with a giant glob of flavored butter, I went a rather non traditional route.

I know that squash and pumpkins are rather popular in African and Middle Eastern cuisine, so I decided to make a quick lamb ragu, seasoned with spices that one would typically find in those areas. My plan was to drizzle the spiced ragu over the steak to give it some bold flavors.

I started it off by very finely mincing some garlic and ginger and dicing a carrot into a minuscule, brunoise dice. I sauteed those aromatics before adding the ground lamb that I seasoned with cumin, turmeric, cinnamon, all spice, coriander, nutmeg, chili, red curry powder, sugar, black pepper, and salt. Instantly, the pot became insanely aromatic with sweet and smoky flavors filling the kitchen.

 I added a tablespoon of tomato paste and then simmered the mixture in a bold, red wine and some beef broth for about two hours. While the ragu was reducing and intensifying on the stovetop, I seared the butternut “steaks” in a screaming hot pan because I wanted a nice, charred crust on them before I roasted them in the oven.

Due to the size of my “steaks”, they took about an hour and a half in the oven at about 400 degrees; just enough time for my ragu to come together. The color of the squash transformed from a bright yellowish-orange to a deep, brick red as the natural sugars caramelized. Since a classic Bordelaise, Cognac-cream sauce, and even A-1 was out of the question, I made a calorie friendly sauce out of fat free yogurt.

 To give it a little flavor, I infused some smashed garlic cloves into a tiny bit of olive oil and whisked the oil into the yogurt along with some fresh lemon juice. I placed the steaming hot steaks into the cool, garlicky yogurt before I drizzled the spiced lamb ragu all over the top.

The flavored juices in the ragu oozed out onto the plate as the warm sauce hit the cool yogurt. I garnished the dish with some cilantro leaves and impatiently waited for the scalding hot bricks to cool down. Not only was this dish really cool looking and colorful, it smelled amazing! The combination of sweet and smoky dried spices with the fresh ginger and garlic had me in sensory overload. We sliced into the butternut squash and realized that it was cooked to perfection.

It fell apart with ease and flopped into the creamy yogurt. The squash was so rich and sweet on its own but when a bite was taken with the lamb it was a match made in heaven. As simple as this was to create, finding a wine to pair it with was somewhat difficult. I finally decided on the 2008 Domaine Chante-Pedrix Chateauneuf du Pape, hailing from the Rhone Valley France. This is a wine that is comprised of Grenache and Syrah that was grown in the top tier vineyard sites of the Rhone Valley.

It’s medium to full bodied despite the fact that the juice is not aged in oak. The Grenache is lively and elegant, with loads of ripe cherry fruit and the Syrah gives the wine a peppery richness. On the finish, I picked up some earthy notes of tobacco and dark espresso beans as well as some interesting primal flavors of roasted red meat juices. Hey, if the dish is comprised around a vegetable, why not have some meat juices in your glass right? I thought that the ripe, fruitiness was perfect with all of the Middle Eastern spices and the overall richness of the wine complimented the savory, comfort level of the dish.

 This dinner definitely made me look at vegetables in a different light. The butternut squash didn’t seem out of place one bit. With only a small drizzle of lamb, it was the dominant highlight of the plate and afterwards, we were both stuffed and satisfied. I felt as though I just polished off a giant, braised short rib sitting in a mound of garlic mashed potatoes. I’m glad we got one more healthy meal in because coming up next is my adventure at Boston’s Cochon555 event; Lots and lots pork fat!!!

Over the weekend we brushed the snow off the grill in preparation for a healthy taco night. Fish tacos are always a healthy alternative to ground or braised meats and they can be absolutely delicious.

I decided to make a fish taco that I’ve never made before with grilled salmon as main ingredient. I picked up some wild Coho salmon which is actually even leaner than the regular stuff.

You can tell by the color of the fish. The Coho is smaller and almost red in color as opposed to the light peach color with the white marbling.

 I made a quick cilantro pesto in the blender with pine nuts, jalapenos, garlic, and lime juice (no cheese) that had just the right about of zip to it to make the tacos sing.

I also opened up a can of black beans and grated a tiny block of queso fresco for some additional textures and flavors.

Queso fresco or queso blanco is a hard, grating cheese that is made from pressing the whey out of cottage cheese. It’s extremely mild and actually isn’t too bad for you. It’s typically seen grated over enchiladas at your local Mexican restaurant.

 Once my cutting board was filled with prepped toppings, buffet style, I trekked out to the grill and slapped the whole piece of Coho salmon on the hot grates. Since it is a leaner fish, the cooking time reduces dramatically. I basically only seared the fish to get a nice crust before I brought it inside and chopped it up into pieces.

We started assembling the tacos, using whole wheat, flax seed wraps and slathering the pesto inside of them. I sliced a fresh jalapeno for my tacos as well because I like the added kick and I also added some watercress leaves to freshen it up.

 Each bite was full of the steamy, grilled salmon followed by the pop of the black beans and the zippy pesto; it was a great alternative to regular tacos because we could eat a bunch and not feel bloated afterwards.

The past two years, Siobhan and I have split time between two Thanksgiving feasts. We travel to Bridgewater to her aunt and uncle’s house for lunch and then shoot down 95 to my parent’s house in Wellesley for dinner. The two meals are spaced out just enough, and we have learned to pace ourselves so that we can manage to enjoy both without gaining 500lbs. The two gatherings are so incredibly different, yet similar in so many ways. Siobhan’s family is huge…so huge that this was the first year that I actually remembered everyone’s name.

We walk into the house and we’re greeted by parents, aunts, uncles, nephews, cousins, grandparents, dogs, you name it… everyone’s there. All running around, eating, drinking, dancing and laughing. It’s like one big house filled with love and controlled chaos. The long, rectangular dining room table is always the center of attention (when the cousins aren’t singing) because of the hours and hours that Siobhan’s aunt puts into decorating it.

 Every year it is breathtaking. This year, the colorful china was set with miniature pumpkin name tags, and above our heads dangled hundreds or burnt orange leaves. The leaves were hand picked from her backyard and hung from the ceiling with invisible string, all floating in mid air at all different heights. Illuminated by the chandelier, the autumn leaves made it feel as though we were eating in the middle of the forest, or in a scene from a Harry Potter movie. When the food is ready, all twenty-five of us rush into the dining room and cram into our seats. Siobhan’s grandfather says grace, and everyone goes around the table reading a passage about giving thanks while the smells of roasted turkey, and sweet potato pie fill the air.

 When it’s “go time”, a whirlwind of serving bowls fly through the air, spoonfuls of stuffing are being tossed across the table, the wine is flowing, and for the first two bites of food, everything is quiet. All the hustle and bustle of passing, serving, and pouring comes to a halt to take that first chomp into the turkey. Then it all goes back to normal, and by normal I mean chaotic in a fun way.

Everyone is talking to everyone, and in order for them to hear one another, they talk louder. It was quite intimidating my first year but now I’ve accepted that I have to just yell to be heard. My favorite part of the meal is when the three different stuffings come out. They always serve a traditional oyster stuffing, an Italian stuffing, and a Portuguesse stuffing. All three are delicious and have something unique and special about them. I also always try to fulfill my dark meat craving in Bridgewater because I know that my mom has a turkey breast roulade in the oven and there won’t be any dark meat in sight.

I grab one of the legs and start to slice the succulent meat off the bone with my silverware before I give in and just pick it up with my hand as if I was at the Medieval Manor. The loud conversations at the table are pleasantly interrupted by clinking wine glasses and heartwarming speeches by certain family members. After everyone is stuffed, the men get up and watch football in the den while the women clear the table and do the dishes; after all it is a very traditional Italian family. I don’t complain.

Right before I start to doze off into a Tryptophan coma, we say our goodbyes and head to the car. I typically make it Braintree before I have to unbuckle my belt because I’m stuffed from the stuffing sampler.

The main difference between Siobhan’s Thanksgiving and the one at my house is numbers. This year we only had five at our table in Wellesley. Don’t be fooled though because it is equally as loud and chaotic, between my brother telling jokes, and me and my mom running around the kitchen.

This year, my mom tried out a new recipe where she butterflied, and deboned a massive turkey breast, and stuffed it with Italian sausage, pine nuts, dates, figs, and herbs. Siobhan and her rolled it up tight and tied it off with butchers twine, leaving the skin on the outside to get crispy. The result was by far the best turkey that she has ever made to date. As soon as the first slice fell onto the cutting board it was apparent how moist and juicy this bird was going to be.

 We carved it into thick slices and surrounded it with her famous mashed potatoes, roasted vegetables, and silky gravy. The combination of the crackling skin and the juicy turkey in every bite was amazing.

The roasted brussel sprouts are Siobhan and I’s favorite vegetable so we gobbled those up quickly. I was shocked to see that even my dad has some color on his plate, but later realized that the single green bean was being used as a divider to make sure that his potatoes didn’t touch his turkey.

We opened a bunch of different wines, but the highlight of the night was the 2005 Neely’s Picnic Block Pinot Noir from Santa Cruz, California. It was the ultimate Thanksgiving wine. Perfectly balanced fruit and earth, with a touch of oak in the background. It was pure velvet on my tongue. The singing and dancing still echoed in my ears from before, but at this table the only noises were “mmmmmssss”, and the clinks of serving spoons diving in for seconds. For dessert, we struggled to force down some pie and these bite-size fudgie pepperment patty bars that Siobhan made.

By the time I couldn’t physically eat anymore, I changed into sweatpants and we set off for our home in South Boston. We are so thankful to have such great families that take such different approaches to the holiday. In Bridgewater, it’s a party and a celebration, and in Wellesley it is a time of relaxation. We are so lucky to have the best of both worlds and that the main component in each home is love and thanks.

Unfortunately the judges didn’t select my pizza blog (challenge #5) as a winner, so my Project Food Blog adventure is officially over. Thank you everyone for voting and supporting me from 2,000 blogs down to only 72. If you guys know me and my competitive nature, you probably realize how hard this was to swallow. Oh well… life goes on and Rooftop Gourmet will continue to produce weekly recipes and wine pairings as it did before the contest. I had prepared my next challenge before I heard the bad news so I figured that I’d post it anyway.

Challenge #6: Road Trip

Challenge Prompt: For this challenge, you’re tasked with creating a delicious meal that will travel well and still look great. From picnics and school lunches to bento boxes, or any other meal on the go, you need to whip up a entree, side, drink, and dessert to enjoy after hitting the road. Be sure that your meal fits inside the Project Food Blog Road Trip Cooler.

Talk about throwing me head first back into my comfort zone! Mobile food is right up my alley, especially when served in a concrete jungle outside Foxboro Stadium. I feel as though I have perfected my parking lot etiquette and risen to the next level of tailgating. Unfortunately, my beloved Patriots were across country this weekend battling the San Diego Chargers, which forced me to move my pigskin picnic up to my spacious roofdeck.

I love tailgating because it serves as a male bonding, guilt-free, social event where guzzling beers, belching, and stuffing our faces is completely acceptable. Now that I’m twenty-eight years old, you would think that the dynamics would change quite a bit because my good friend Mark brought his five month old daughter Bria to the party, but trust me, we didn’t skip a beat. Bria was just hanging out like she was one of the guys. We did have to change a few diapers along the way, but if you knew my friends, this wasn’t too bad compared to our college tailgating festivities.

I was a little bummed out that Tom couldn’t make it to the picnic but I understood that he had work to do on the West coast.

Keeping with the football theme, I chose to create my entire portable menu around the pigskin, or the pig itself.

I have to admit that my swine worship has officially been taken to the next level, and I am banned from bringing home any more pig paraphernalia until said otherwise.

 My main course is a Tuscan, road-side treat that is traditionally sold out of a wagon, or throw-back food truck, deep in the heart of Italy. Porchetta is a culinary tradition of slow roasting a heavily seasoned, whole pig for hours and serving it sliced into savory sandwiches.

The juicy, slabs of pork melt in your mouth and appear frequently during holiday celebrations or outdoor festivals. Think of the porchetta man as the European version of an ice cream truck rolling into the parking lot, interrupting your child’s little league game, and selling thousands of Dora The Explorer Popsicles.

I threw a million cloves of garlic, rosemary, sage, fennel seed, salt and pepper into the food processor and pulsed together a paste in which I massaged thoroughly into my massive Berkshire pork loin.

 I let the flavors marinate overnight before I slow-roasted the loin in a two hundred degree oven. Once the internal temperature of the pork reached around 145 degrees, I pulled it and let it rest (continue cooking). One thing that I can’t stand is the phrase, “the other white meat”. Pork is not white and it has been humiliated in the past by comparing it to chicken. Especially when you know where your pig comes from, do not overcook it!

Americans don’t need to continue slathering Mott’s Applesauce all over their entrees in order to make it swallow-able.

I thinly sliced my pig and layered it on top of a chewy baguette, adorning it with a classic Tonnato sauce. Tonnato is a tuna flavored mayonnaise that usually compliments cold slices of veal in an antipasto setting.

I made mine by combining Italian tonno (preserved in olive oil), anchovies, capers, homemade mayonnaise, and a splash of Tabasco.

The “hoagie” was capitalized with some thinly sliced fennel, pickled red onion, and a handful of fresh watercress. The fresh, juicy apple flavors in the crisp watercress and the subtle licorice nuances in the fennel made the tender pork melt in your mouth.

The submarines quickly disappeared leaving our suds-soaked stomachs craving something salty. When I mentioned that this was going to be a pigskin picnic, I wasn’t lying. I made homemade, black pepper bombed, pork rinds by drying out the actual skin of the Berkshire pig.

I had to trim off most of the fat (which I saved for later use) and very slowly crisped up the skins in a 150 degree oven for three hours. Three magical hours of dancing around my condo with a pig’s snout, sniffing the magical aromas of melting pork fat to be exact.

Once the skins were dark and crunchy, I tossed them in sea salt and tons of cracked black pepper, preparing them for the picnic. A tailgate without beer is like a Bar Mitzvah without Manischewitz.

I loaded my Project Food Blog Cooler with multiple cans of Pork Slap Ale; a canned craft brew sporting two naked pigs, ceremoniously belly bumping in mid air on the label.

 I put the bacon-ized twist on my beverage by rimming my pint glass with a hickory-smoked sea salt. The smoky, salty flavor encouraged us to suck down a few extra Pork Slaps at a collegiate pace.

 The amber colored ale is perfumed with caramel and breakfast cereal, while the flavor is dense with yeasty vanilla notes. Needless to say, it got the job done to lubricate our football minds and excite us for the long anticipated dessert.

I have a hard time enjoying, and endorsing desserts due to my lack of sweet teeth, but when bacon is involved, it’s a different story. This one bite, taste of heaven was something that I could actually be proud of. A flourless, chocolate cake resembling a dense fudge, receiving a drooling of homemade caramel, and a sprinkle of crispy bacon bits. The combination of rich, creamy chocolate and salty bacon was something that we all weren’t prepared for. The duet was mind blowing like Brady & Moss before we traded the bacon for a third round draft pick. 

Challenge #5: Recipe Remix

Challenge Prompt: One recipe, 72 variations! We’re challenging each of you to put your own spin on the same recipe. How you do it is up to you. Will you try out some molecular gastronomy techniques? Share a super-secret trick? Or re-envision the dish from a different perspective? You’ll be asked to put your own spin on Pizza. For the purpose of this contest and challenge, we are defining pizza as having a solid base, a sauce and at least one topping.

Welcome to America; where fast food chains are searching for new ways to pump out larger portions at even faster rates. Grab-n-go meals cater to our fast-paced society, making it convenient for those who don’t have the time to wait for something to actually cook. Pizza chains compete with each other, seeing who can deliver your pie the quickest. They always forget my freakin’ pepperoni but who cares… 32 minutes and it’s FREE! What’s next… a SpeedPass for your local drive-thru window? 

In 1986, a man named Carlo Petrini founded the Slow Food Movement as a way to protest the opening of a McDonalds near the Spanish Steps in Rome.

This international organization not only begs us to turn down our ovens, but to also fully support local farmers, and promote nutrition. The impact that Slow Food has on the world is nutritional, economical, cultural and clearly monumental.

They are solving problems by raising taste awareness and stressing the importance of “field to fork” communities. By understanding where our food comes from, how it was produced, and by whom, people can appreciate the cultural and social importance of food.

When I discovered that pizza was going to be the common denominator in this challenge, I made an effort to take the fast food aspect out of the equation.

I’ve been known to inhale a few slices of late night Domino’s in my day, and if you asked me what it tasted like… I probably couldn’t tell you. For that very reason, I introduce to you the Patience Pizza! A culinary frisbee, loaded with local ingredients that were carefully and thoughtfully cooked at a tortoise’s pace in order maximize flavor.

I started off by making a homemade, whole wheat dough speckled with fresh herbs. The nutritional crust contains more valuable carbohydrates than regular pizza dough and the aromatics were snipped from my roof deck herb garden (it doesn’t get more local than that).

 The scent of the activated yeast reminded me of driving by the old Wonderbread factory in Natick, making dinner rolls in Home Ec. class, and the nose of a full bodied Champagne. I kneaded the dough until my forearms were mush and patiently waited while it doubled in size.

In the meantime, I prepared my local, grass-fed beef short ribs for braising. 

I seared off my meat and slowly layered my ingredients into a dutch oven. Classic mirepoix, tomato paste, and of course two bottles of hearty red glugged into the pot and sat there, simmering away for an hour to reduce and concentrate the flavors.

Once I was happy with the braising liquid, I reintroduced the short ribs to the pot and popped them into a 325 degree oven; the same oven that contained a vampires worst nightmare. Earlier, I decapitated a dozen heads of garlic, revealing a cross-section of the bulbous cloves and roasted them whole.

The once pungent garlic slowly caramelized and became sweet and mushy. On the stovetop, I casually sweated out some thinly sliced onions, watching them gradually darken with color.

At first they made me cry like I was watching an episode of Extreme Home Makeover, but after an hour they made my taste buds drool over the dark, candied appearance. When the short ribs were melt-in-your-mouth tender, it was time to assemble my Patience Pizza.

I rolled out my room temperature dough as thin as I possibly could and spread a layer of creamy Mascarpone cheese over the base.

I zested three whole lemons on top of the Italian cream cheese, which I feel was hands down the most important component of this dish.

With all of these rich, slow-cooked flavors melding together, the pizza desperately needed something to liven it up.

The fresh, zippy, lemon zest awakened each ingredient and brought the individual flavors to life. I then carefully placed the sliced short ribs, whole cloves of roasted garlic, and stringy, caramelized onions all over the disc. I chose a rather nontraditional pizza cheese that would compliment the slow cooked toppings by adding a funky aroma, but ceasing to overpower the flavors with its mild taste.

Robiola is a soft, creamy, Italian cheese that best resembles a French Brie.

The tame flavors melt extremely well, and present the picturesque stringy goo when two slices are separated from one another.

After only a few minutes on the red hot pizza stone, the crust was crispy and flaky. I drizzled the pizza with a reduction of the red wine braising liquid which seemed to rejuvenate the chunks of beefy, short ribs.

 A sprinkle of fresh parsley and this work of art was ready to be devoured. I uncorked a bottle of the 2006 Elio Grasso Vigna Martina Barbera d”Alba for both its striking acidity, and its concentrated fruit.

Barbera is the wine that Italians drink while they’re waiting for their Barolo to age. It is meant to be enjoyed young and fresh, because the tannins aren’t as gripping as its big brother, Nebbiolo-based, counterparts.

The Elio Grasso is perfumed with red licorice and spice, while the medium bodied wine, is full of cranberry and bing cherry gastrique flavors.

The youthfulness of the of the fruit and bright acidity was a great contrast to the slow-cooked, bulky flavors in the pizza. Each and every bite was greatly appreciated because it reminded me of the time and attentiveness that was spent creating this pizza.

Unlike its fast food competitors, the Patience Pizza was thoughtful, sustainable, and incredibly recession-friendly. By turning down your oven, and buying inexpensive cuts of meat, it’s a beneficial way to feed your family for a week, all for the price of two large pizzas. Items such as short ribs, pork shoulder, and brisket, can be slow cooked, to yield an insane amount of meat. Instead of wasting your money on cellulite-inducing value meals, put some effort into your dinner and teach your family how to eat slow food…. now that’s Amore!!!