Duck Ragu: it's worth the search!

Sometimes it's all about knowing where to source your ingredients. I had seen this recipe for what looked like a fabulous duck ragu in Mario's book Molto Italiano. The only problem was it called for fresh duck legs, which I can't exactly go down to my local supermarket and grab. Duck confit I can score at will. Duck breast, no problem. But after stopping by two of the most likely sources here and getting the "sorry pal" treatment I was stumped. Then I remembered my buddy Norm had mentioned how he had picked up some duck fat from a local food wholesaler called Nicky USA. Now these guys handle some of the more esoteric game animals and the parts enclosed within. I figured if they have duck fat, then the legs must be waddling around there somewhere too. Sure enough it was one call to confirm they do have the sought after appendage, they do sell to the public with a very reasonable minimum buy, and I was flying down to the inner southeast side of PDX. 10 minutes later I was the proud possessor of eight duck legs. Since the recipe only called for four, I can see some confit in my future.

So I get home and pull these beautiful hunks of fowl out of the bag. They had to be skinned (you can see the skinned legs in the photo), and I'm here to tell ya the duck does not want to give up his skin like that wimpy chicken. It was a struggle to get off, plus ducks are so much more fatty than chickens that it was a slippery proposition. But with some careful knife work, a lot of vigorous pulling, and liberal use of "you think you're better than me, motherf*cker?", I soon had them ready. After this the dish came together quickly, and I have to say deliciously. Basically a standard braise, the finished product tasted eerily close to bouef bourguignon, and over the penne it was awesome. The duck doesn't get fall apart tender like chicken would, so it keeps a good chew. I didn't make the fancy-ass fresh garganelli pasta that tubby recommended (if you want to make it, the recipe is in his book), but took up his suggestion for all of us non-fresh pasta making pussies to sub dried penne and it worked just fine. With cooler weather coming, grab some duck legs and get this cooking. It's a perfect fall dish!
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Penne al Ragu d'Anatra
Penne with Duck Ragu
from "Molto Italiano"

ingredients:
1/4 cup extra virgin olive oil
4 duck legs, skinned, cut apart at joint, visible fat removed, rinsed and patted dry.
Salt and freshly ground black pepper
1 medium Spanish onion, cut into 1/4-inch dice
1 medium carrot, finely chopped
2 cloves garlic, thinly sliced
1 rib celery, cut into 1/4-inch dice
4 fresh sage leaves
2 cups dry red wine
1 cup chicken stock
One 6-ounce can tomato paste
16 to 18 ounces dried penne pasta
Parmigiano-Reggiano for grating

method:
1- In a Dutch oven heat the oil over medium-high heat until almost smoking. Season the duck pieces with salt and pepper and cook, turning occasionally, until browned on all sides, 10 to 12 minutes. Transfer to plate.

2- Add the onion, garlic, carrot, celery and sage to the pot, reduce the heat to low, and cook until the vegetables are softened, 7 to 9 minutes. Add the wine, stock, and tomato paste, stir well and bring to a boil. Add the duck, lower the heat, cover, and simmer for one hour.

3- Transfer the duck pieces to a plate (keep the sauce at a simmer). When cool enough, pull or cut all the meat off bones, return meat to pot and simmer, uncovered, for 30 minutes, or until the sauce is quite thick. Season with salt and pepper, and transfer to 10 to 12-inch sauté pan, and keep warm over low heat.

4- Bring six quarts water to a boil, in a large pasta pot, add 2 tablespoons salt, add pasta, and cook to just al dente. Drain pasta, reserving 1/2 cup of pasta water. Add the cooked pasta to the ragu and toss over high heat for 2 minutes to combine, adding a splash of pasta water to loosen sauce if needed. Divide pasta between four bowls, grate Parmagiano over each bowl and serve immediately.

Batali Bowls Rock!

While I will not admit to being the shoe whore some of my friends are hinting at, I will cop to being a gadget slut, especially when it comes to kitchen toys. I love my Le Creuset, my new inexpensive mandoline, and I've always had a fascination with small containers. Something about their efficiency, how they make throwing together recipes so much easier. My semi-new favorites, things I've been playing with for the last year and bring me untold happiness, are the Mario Batali Prep Bowls (seen here with some of the ingredients for Meyer Lemon Risotto) I picked up at Sur La Table here in PDX. For that all important mise en place, these rock, and are maybe the best $10 I've ever spent on a kitchen tool. The five-piece set measures anywhere from 1/8 to 2 cups. The cool part is that each bowl is actually two measuring bowls. The smallest is both a 1/8 and 1/4 cup (with easy-to-see dividing line inside), and the largest is a 1 and 2 cup measure, with the others scattered somewhere in between. For a bull-in-the-china-shop kind of cook that I am, careening around the kitchen throwing things in pots, tossing used bits and bowls into the sink, splattering myself and anyone in the immediate vicinity with various oils and food remains....basically there's lots of collateral damage....these bright, cheerily orange pieces of organization are round little islands of calm in my sea of kitchen chaos. I love good, useful design, especially at a bargain price. And while I use these constantly for cooking, they also make great bar measuring devices when I need to regain my cocktail equilibrium. If you don't have them, get them!!

Warming up to cold weather

You can feel it in the air, can't you? Nights getting colder. Leaves falling. Sidelong glances at your Le Creuset or other braising pot of choice. In my kitchen, they're calling out their siren song and I'm listening. You all know what I mean. Well, excepting you all who live in warmer climes, who probably have no idea what I'm trying to say. Is it ever braising season in Phoenix? I mean, it's going to be 90 degrees there today! These must be zero incentive to throw some meat in your 380 degree oven for three or four hours. All I can say to them is "Poor bastards", because I LOVE this time of year.

Sunday was a perfect day to share some of that love with a group of friends. And what says "I care" more than a 4-1/2 pound hunk of chuck roast that has been cooking in the oven for several hours? For a dinner party, there is nothing easier than a long, slow braise. Not only is the prep incredibly easy, but that long cooking time allows plenty of time to get everything else working and ready for your guests. This recipe for Barolo Braised Beef is a dish I made for the first time late last winter, and it rocked the table. For something so easy, this is guaranteed to get huge praise from your pals.

Before I get to the instructional part of this missive, a note on the name. Barolo braised beef. Rule 1: Don't use Barolo!! My $40 bottles of red wine generally don't end up in a cooking pot. Any rich, full-bodied wine will work. I used an awesome Languedoc red from France ($11.95). According to Bill Buford in his book "Heat", at Mario Batali's Babbo in NYC, they use cheap merlot in their "Barolo" braised beef. Now that I've saved you all that money, here's the goods.....

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BAROLO BRAISED BEEF
adapted from epicurious

ingredients:
2 tablespoons olive oil
1 (3- to 3 1/2-lb) boneless beef chuck roast
1 teaspoon salt
1/2 teaspoon black pepper
1/4 lb sliced pancetta, finely chopped
1 medium onion, finely chopped
1 medium carrot, finely chopped
2 celery ribs, finely chopped
4 garlic cloves, thinly sliced
4 (4- to 6-inch) sprigs fresh thyme
2 (6- to 8-inch) sprigs fresh rosemary
2 tablespoons tomato paste
2 cups Barolo or other full-bodied red
2 cups water
*Special equipment: a 4- to 5-qt heavy ovenproof pot with lid

mise en place (aka prep)...the key to stress free cooking!










method
1- Put oven rack in middle position and preheat oven to 325°F.

2-Heat oil in pot over moderately high heat until hot but not smoking. Meanwhile, pat meat dry and sprinkle with salt and pepper. Brown meat in hot oil on all sides, about 10 minutes total. (If bottom of pot begins to scorch, lower heat to moderate.) Transfer to a plate using a fork and tongs.

Sautéeing the flavoring agents. Getting closer..........







3- Add pancetta to oil in pot and sauté over moderately high heat, stirring frequently, until browned and fat is rendered, about 3 minutes. Add onion, carrot, and celery and sauté, stirring occasionally, until vegetables are softened and golden brown, 10 to 12 minutes. Add garlic, thyme, and rosemary and sauté, stirring, until garlic begins to soften and turn golden, about 2 minutes. Stir in tomato paste and cook, stirring, 1 minute. Add wine and boil until liquid is reduced by about half, about 5 minutes. Add water and bring to a simmer, then return meat along with any juices accumulated on plate to pot. Cover pot with lid and transfer to oven. Braise until meat is very tender, 2 1/2 to 3 hours.

All that's left: slicing, reducing, consuming!









4- Transfer meat to a cutting board. Skim fat from surface of sauce and discard along with herb stems. Boil sauce until reduced by about one third, about 8-10 minutes, then season with salt. Cut meat across the grain into 1/2-inch-thick slices, arrange on platter, pour most of sauce generously on top and serve remaining sauce in bowl.

*Cooks' note: Beef improves in flavor if made 3 days ahead. Cool completely in sauce, uncovered, then chill in sauce, covered. Reheat, covered, in a preheated 350°F oven until hot, 25 to 30 minutes, then slice meat.

Food Blogs: Batali bashes, Bourdain backs

Just when I really needed another diversion so I could even less done at work, I got turned on to the "Grub Street" column in the online New York Magazine site by fellow flogger (there has to be some name for this pastime, don't ya think?) Food Dude. Among other tasty bits was a short exchange between Batali and Bourdain regarding us food bloggers. Batali was cracking on us while Bourdain had our backs:

Batali: It’s amazing, these fucking Websites, these blogs.

Bourdain: I think it’s great. They’ve beaten down the wall, and everybody’s invited to write whatever shit they want about you. It’s democratic.

And it goes on from there. Click on the "Grub Street" link above to read more. Thanks T, we appreciate the support! Mario...lay off the bottle, it's starting to skew your reality.

Turning up the "Heat"

For the food obsessed among you who might be looking for that perfect summer vacation read to stuff in your bag, then Heat by Bill Buford is the choice! I just got done with it last week, and LOVED it. Buford writes of being a kitchen slave in Mario Batali's NYC restaurant Babbo, where he worked his way through virtually every position in this most "professional" of restaurant kitchens. Professional if you ignore the rants, raves, and irrational emotional torture that happens when Batali or any number of coworkers vent, which they seem to at any moments notice. Buford also spends time trying make perfect pasta in Italy, and working with a half-crazed Tuscan butcher in the village of Panzano, where he finds himself becoming almost as obsessed as the characters who populate this tale. The book keeps coming at you, giving great insight into what happens in a real restaurant kitchen, the things the public never sees. He doesn't pull any punches, calling out Batali's sometimes boorish behavior, chronicling his prodigious drinking capacity, and sending praise to this most idiosyncratic of chefs.

Perhaps my favorite passage, and something anyone who hasn't worked in a restaurant should read, because folks, this is SO true :
"Around midnight, the kitchen was something of a demilitarized zone, meant to be closed but still serving food, owing to the insistence of the maitre d', John Mainieri, who sometimes accepted late seatings and was openly loathed by members of the kitchen staff as a result. In theory, it is possible to argue your way into a restaurant just as the kitchen is closing. But I urge you, the next time you find yourself trying to persuade the maitre d' to accommodate you, to recognize that members of the kitchen know you're there. They are waiting for your order, huddled around the ticker tape machine, counting the seconds, and heaping imprecations on your head because you cannot make up your mind. They are specualting- will it be something light, a single course perhaps? ("That's what I'd order." someone says, and everyone loudly agrees.) Will I be able to drain the pasta machine? Will the grill guy be able to turn off the burners? Or will the diners- and late ones are simply referred to as "those fuckers" - be so clueless as to order a five-course tasting menu? It happens, and the response of the kitchen- a bellowing roar of disgust - is so loud veeryone in the restuarnt must hear it. By now the kitchen is different. At eleven, beer is allowed, and for nearly an hour the cooks have been drinking. The senior figures have disappeared. No one is in charge. The people remaining are tired and dirty. The floors are greasy and wet. The pasta machine is so thick and crud-filled that the water has turned purple and is starting to foam. Do you need more details? Let me rephrase the question: Do you think, if your meal is the last order received by the kitchen, that it has been cooked with love?"

God, so fucking true. This book comes at you with one insight after another. Buford tells a great story and whets your appetite at the same time. Grab a copy, and get hungry!

Spring is calling!

It's automatic: Springtime...sun comes out in PDX...warmth...no rain...grill is calling...find piece of animal to cook.........................

But sometimes you need too ignore the siren song, because one of the other signs of spring is fresh, young asparagus that is seemingly calling to you from every stall of the farmer's market, just begging to be cooked in any number of ways. Last night w and I had a very satisfying Asparagus Risotto based on a Mario Batali recipe. Risotto is one of those things that to me always tastes, and feels, so good. The Italian equivalent...along with creamy polenta...of mashed potatoes. Total comfort food. Here's yet one more way to take advantage of spring.....
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Asparagus Risotto
Adapted from Mario Batali
Time: 45 minutes
1 pound asparagus, peeled, trimmed and cut into one-inch-long pieces, tips reserved (I didn't peel the asparagus and it worked just fine. If you're more patient than me, have at it!- bb)
4 to 6 cups chicken or vegetable stock
2 tablespoons extra virgin olive oil
3 tablespoons butter
1/3 medium red onion, diced
1 1/2 cups Arborio rice
1/2 cup dry white wine
Salt to taste
1/2 cup grated Parmesan cheese plus extra for sprinkling.

1. Bring a pot of water to a boil. Add half the asparagus stalks and cook until quite soft, at least 5 minutes. Rinse quickly under cold water. Put cooked asparagus in a blender or food processor and add just enough water to allow machine to puree until smooth; set aside.

2. Put stock in a medium saucepan over low heat. Put oil and 1 tablespoon butter in a large, deep nonstick skillet over medium heat. When it is hot, add onion, stirring occasionally until it softens, 3 to 5 minutes.

3. Add rice and cook, stirring occasionally, until it is glossy, about 2 to 3 minutes. Add white wine, stir, and let liquid bubble away. Add a large pinch of salt. Add warmed stock, 1/2 cup or so at a time, stirring occasionally. Each time stock has just about evaporated, add more.

4. After about 15 minutes, add remaining asparagus pieces and tips, continuing to add stock when necessary. In 5 minutes, begin tasting rice. You want it to be tender but with a bit of crunch; it could take as long as 30 minutes total to reach this stage. When it does, stir in 1/2 cup asparagus puree. Remove skillet from heat, add remaining butter and stir briskly. Add Parmesan and stir briskly, then taste and adjust seasoning. Risotto should be slightly soupy. Serve immediately.
Yield: 3 to 4 servings.

A dinner party...yawn...with meatloaf??

Maybe that's what might cross your mind, especially when you're having five of your food loving friends over for dinner. Meatloaf. Isn't that something your mom cooked the hell out of when you were a kid? Not exactly haut cuisine, n'est pas? That why if I'm talkin' meatloaf, then you can bet your ass I'm upping the ante. Luckily I have in the food files a really awesome, fancy-schmancy stuffed meatloaf, a Mario Batali recipe that was in Food and Wine Magazine some time ago. This absolutely rocks, not only tasting great, but presents beautifully, the slices of meat showing off the spinach-prosciutto-provolone-carrot stuffing. Who wouldn't crave ground beef and pork with a little prosciutto? I mean really?! Add some sides of garlic mashed potatoes (where w's only instruction was "with lots of garlic!") and some bright Swiss chard from the Farmer's Market and you'll be set. Oh yeah, and maybe a bottle or five of good vino! This is a really easy recipe, that like I said, looks (and tastes) fantastic!
Assembling the meaty goodness before the rollup!
A done deal, ready for the table.

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Meat Loaf Stuffed with Prosciutto and Spinach
SERVES: 8
from F and W: This luxurious yet easy take on classic meat loaf gets stuffed with spinach, carrots, prosciutto and cheese. The vegetables can be leftovers, says Batali: "Just make sure they're cooked long enough to be very soft—if they're al dente, the meat loaf will tear when you slice it and wreck your day" Mild and tangy caciocavallo cheese, made in Italy from cow's milk, is excellent in the filling, but provolone is a fine substitute.

ingredients
* 2 large carrots, each cut lengthwise into 6 slices
* 4 cups spinach (3 ounces), thick stems discarded
* 2 pounds lean ground beef
* 2 pounds ground pork
* 2 1/2 cups fresh bread crumbs
* 2 cups freshly grated pecorino cheese (6 ounces)
* 6 large eggs, lightly beaten
* Kosher salt and freshly ground pepper
* 3 tablespoons all-purpose flour
* 10-12 thin slices of prosciutto (4 ounces)
* 10 1/8-inch-thick slices caciocavallo or provolone cheese
* 1/4 cup extra-virgin olive oil
* 4 sprigs of rosemary
* 2 cups dry red wine
* 1-1/2 cup water

directions
1. Preheat the oven to 400°. In a saucepan of boiling salted water, cook the carrots until tender, 7 minutes. Using a slotted spoon, transfer to a plate. Add the spinach to the boiling water and cook just until wilted; drain well and add to the carrots.
2. In a large bowl, combine the beef with the pork, 2 cups of the bread crumbs, the pecorino, eggs, 1 teaspoon of salt and 1/2 teaspoon of pepper; mix well with your hands.
3. Line a work surface with a 15-inch-long sheet of plastic wrap. In a bowl, mix the flour with the remaining 1/2 cup of bread crumbs. Sprinkle half of the crumb mixture all over the plastic wrap. Transfer half of the meat loaf mixture to the plastic and press it into a 12-by-10-inch rectangle, about 1/2 inch thick. Lay half of the spinach leaves over the meat, leaving a 1-inch border on the short sides. Arrange half of the carrots over the spinach, and top with half the prosciutto and sliced cheese. Starting from the long end of the plastic wrap closest to you, tightly roll up the meat loaf, tucking in the filling and using the plastic wrap to guide you; discard the plastic. Repeat with another 15-inch sheet of plastic and the remaining bread crumbs, meat mixture, spinach, carrots, prosciutto and cheese. Drizzle each meat loaf with 2 tablespoons of oil.
4. Put the rosemary sprigs in the bottom of a broiler pan and pour in the red wine. Cover with the broiler pan grate. Set the meat loaves about 2 inches apart on the grate. Bake in the center of the oven for 40 minutes. Turn the broiler pan around and pour the water through the grate. Continue baking for about 35 minutes longer, or until an instant-read thermometer inserted in the center of each meat loaf registers 155°.
5. Transfer the meat loaves to a carving board and cover loosely with foil. Discard any cheese from the bottom of the pan and strain the pan juices into a small saucepan. Boil the pan juices over high heat until reduced to 1 cup, about 5 minutes. Pour into a serving bowl and season with salt and pepper.
6. Using a serrated knife, slice the meat loaves 1 inch thick and serve, passing the pan juices at the table.
MAKE AHEAD: The unbaked meat loaves can be refrigerated overnight. Let return to room temperature before baking.