So there's this salad ...

So there’s this salad. It’s a simple salad, but it tastes like a stroke of genius. I’m a little obsessed with it. It’s the perfect combination of crispy and crunchy, salty and sweet, acid and fat, with just a touch of bitter.

As with most recipes, there is more than one way to make it. The original idea came from the Montreal restaurant, Macaroni Bar. I’ve never been there, but two of my husband’s aunts (my aunts-in-law?) have, and after eating this salad there, they made sure they got the recipe. I have to say, I am very glad they did, because I think my life would be just that much darker without it. Yes, it’s really that good. Have I mentioned how lucky I think I am to have family members who love to cook as much as I do? The original has a base of arugula and pears, but I like to do it with arugula and cherry tomatoes as well.

This salad, as with most salads, really is all about the dressing. It’s about the right ingredients, the best quality ingredients, and the perfect proportions of each. So, remember these three—yes, only three—ingredients: white balsamic vinegar, extra-virgin olive oil, and honey.

Of course, there is salt and pepper as well, and parmesan. You can’t leave out the parmesan. It’s all about the parmesan … OK, it’s all about the dressing and the parmesan.

To make the dressing, combine two parts olive oil to one part balsamic, and a teaspoon or a little less of honey. Whisk, taste, adjust, and season with salt and pepper. You know the drill.

After tossing everything together, season with some more salt and pepper. It’s best to use coarse salt, like kosher or sea salt, because getting a bit of salty crunch in there just puts this salad over the edge. If you have a fancy salt that you never know what to do with, here would be a great place to feature it.

Finally, serve it alongside a delicious meal. Or, have it as its own meal. Trust me, a bite or two of this, and you won’t want to eat anything else.

Arugula Salad
Adapted from Macaroni Bar, Montreal
Makes about 4 side salads

1 tbsp. white balsamic vinegar
½-1 tsp. honey
2 tbsp. extra-virgin olive oil
Salt and pepper
3 oz. arugula (preferably baby arugula)
1 Bosc pear, thinly sliced OR 1 cup cherry tomatoes, halved
½ cup (or more) freshly grated parmesan

Combine the white balsamic and the honey. Whisk in the olive oil, taste, and season with salt and pepper. If necessary, add more vinegar, honey, or olive oil, as needed.

Toss together the arugula and pear or tomatoes. Toss in the vinaigrette and parmesan. Sprinkle on some additional salt and pepper. Serve immediately.

A Competition, an Internship, and a Graduation

I’ve left you sitting on the edges of your seats, I know. Tales of my pre-competition preparations and jitters were a promise to reveal what became of it all, a promise that you might think I have broken. I haven’t, though: I have lots to tell. The past two months have been eventful for me.

First, the competition: great success, or embarrassing failure? Neither, really. I would describe the experience as a great personal success, although I did not place in the competition. To be honest, I was just happy I finished. Those three hours of cooking were more challenging than I had imagined, mainly because of what the mystery boxes contained. As you know, I practiced for this competition, but I wasn’t prepared for this:

-A live Dungeness crab
-A whole, bone-in lamb shoulder
-Two quail
-1 lb. sweetbreads
-A fennel bulb
-1 lb. Yukon gold potatoes

As you can see, there is no chicken on that list. You also might notice that there are not four or five ingredients: there are six … and four of them are proteins. Keep in mind that we were only to make three courses using these ingredients, and one of those courses was dessert. They’re not simple proteins, either. Two of them, some would argue, take more than three hours of cooking to prepare properly (the lamb shoulder and the sweetbreads), but I suppose that was just part of the challenge. I had never worked with sweetbreads before, and only had a vague idea of how to prepare them. It turned out, I wasn’t the only one—the competitor who came in first was the only one who really knew what to do with them. The black box was full of curve balls, to say the least, but we each made the most of it. I made a composed salad of crab, quail, and tomato for my appetizer, seared lamb au jus, with fennel and Yukon gold purée and braised sweetbreads for my main, and individual berry tarts with a berry reduction for dessert.

Curve balls or no, I am glad that I competed. I am proud of myself for finishing, and for having three complete courses to present on time at the end of the three hours. If I had to do the competition again, I would do some things differently, but that was the point of taking the plunge and doing this: to learn. I learned about time-management, sweetbreads and butchering lamb shoulder. I also learned more about what judges are looking for in culinary competitions, and what is important to them, and what is not.

In other news, I completed my culinary school internship. I was lucky enough to get to work at one of my favorite restaurants in Seattle, Chef Holly Smith’s Café Juanita. The restaurant features Northern Italian cuisine and uses almost entirely local, organic, and seasonal product. Interning there was my first venture into being in a fine dining restaurant’s kitchen, and it was an eye-opening experience. Holly is obsessively committed to quality; each item that leaves her kitchen must meet her high standards. Thanks to this, she has an excellent, award-winning, nationally recognized restaurant.

As an intern, I was on the bottom of the totem pole. I worked four days a week, ten or more hours a day, doing basic prep: stemming thyme, dicing turnips, cleaning greens, shelling crab, and so on. I got to do a few more interesting things, like making some of the basic sauces and curing guanciale and pancetta, but the highlight of the stage was from observing and talking to people. I learned a lot just from watching the line during service, asking questions, and trying to soak in as much information as possible. I was only there for about a month, but it was a month I won’t soon forget.

And, oh, yeah, I finished culinary school. I am now finally, officially, a culinary school graduate, ready to venture out into the big, scary world. Yay! It’s a good feeling to be done. What I will do next is still up for debate, but I hope good things are to come. The future looks delicious.

Black, Black Box: Competition Preparation with Stuffed Chicken Legs

In a flash of overconfidence, mixed in with a little insanity, I have decided to enter a culinary competition. I’ll be entering with one of my classmates from culinary school, but we’ll be competing individually. It’s a black box challenge: we’ll be given a mystery box containing four or five ingredients, probably one or two proteins, one or two vegetables and/or fruits, and a starch. We will have three hours to create a three-course meal, highlighting these ingredients and utilizing others provided in the kitchen. I’ll admit it: I am terrified. My classmate and I have been practicing and trust me, three hours goes by a lot faster than you’d think. To be honest, my goal at the moment is just to finish the competition, never mind coming up with anything I would be proud to present.

All right, so maybe I am selling myself a little short. I know that I can do this, I just need to be mentally prepared. It wouldn’t hurt to have a few tricks up my sleeve either, which is why I have been practicing a number of dishes that I plan to pull out if I am given certain ingredients. One protein that I am likely to get is chicken, mainly because it is cheap, and also because you really need to work with it in order to produce something really tasty. If I do get a chicken, it is likely that I will make Ballotines de Poulet, an impressive little composition consisting of a deboned, stuffed chicken leg, braised in a rich sauce. It’s a very classic, culinary school-type dish that, most importantly, tastes really good.

The stuffing is a combination of sautéed carrot, celery, and shallot, mixed with breadcrumbs and eggs. The legs are then tied up to give you neat, sort of sausage-like, chicken rolls. The rolls are browned in a hot pan, then set aside while you work on the braising sauce.

The sauce is a rich combination of golden mirepoix, wine, brown stock, tomato paste, and thickened with beurre manié, a raw combination of butter and flour. The chicken then gets returned to the pan, and it braises in the oven for half an hour. The braising liquid keeps it moist, tender, and flavorful.

When the chicken is cooked through, it is set aside while the final sauce is prepared. The braising liquid is strained into a clean pan and reduced. Lardons (bacon that has been blanched, then crisped), sautéed pearl onions, and sautéed mushrooms are then added to the sauce, and it is served with the sliced chicken.

As you can see, I also served mine with pan-seared Brussels sprouts this time, but I wouldn’t do that in the competition. In fact, I have since made this dish again in a competition practice, and made some minor adjustments to save time, and refine the dish a little: I didn’t thicken the initial braising liquid with the beurre manié. The final sauce was reduced slightly, seasoned, and then monté au beurre, meaning finished with the addition of raw butter. It made for a wonderful sauce, not heavy at all, but rich and with a deep, savory flavor.

I may not do perfectly on this competition, but at least I’ll be going in there with a few ideas, and a few things I know I can do. No matter what happens, it will be an experience worth living, one I’m sure I won’t regret.

Ballotine de Poulet (Stuffed Boneless Chicken Legs)
Adapted from Professional Cooking, 6th ed., by Wayne Gisslen
Serves 4
4 chicken legs, skin on, thigh and drumstick pieces attached
1 oz. shallot, finely chopped
½ oz. carrot, finely chopped
½ oz. celery, finely chopped
½ oz. butter
2 oz. fresh white bread crumbs
1 egg, beaten
Salt and pepper

1 fl. oz. vegetable oil
2 oz. onion, small dice
1 oz. carrot, small dice
1 oz celery, small dice
5 fl. oz. white wine
1 oz. tomato paste
2 cups brown stock (dark chicken stock or beef stock)
1 oz. beurre manié* (optional—use if you prefer a thicker sauce, rather than a thinner reduction)
Salt and pepper

(If making it Grandmère-style)
3 oz slab bacon
2 oz pearl onions
4 oz. button mushrooms
2 oz. butter (if not using the beurre manié)

Debone the chicken leg by slicing carefully along the thigh and drumstick bones. Gently scrape the meat off the bones, trying to keep the meat as much in one piece as possible. When possible, remove the bone completely from the meat. This video gives a decent demo.

Sweat the shallot, carrot, and celery in the butter until softened. Cool. Combine with the breadcrumbs, and add just enough egg to make a soft, but not to wet consistency. Season with salt and pepper. Spoon the bone cavity of the chicken legs with the stuffing, then roll up the legs to enclose the filling. Use butcher’s twine to tie the rolls securely.

Preheat oven to 350 F. Heat the oil in a large, shallow pan. Brown the legs on all sides, then put aside. Add the onion, carrot, and celery to the pan and cook until golden. Deglaze with the wine, and reduce until it is almost all evaporated. Stir in the tomato paste and stock, and bring to a boil. If using, drop in the beurre manié in small pieces.

Return the chicken legs to the pan; the liquid should come no more than halfway up the sides of the chicken. Bring it to a boil, then place, uncovered, in the oven for about 30 minutes, until cooked through. Baste the legs occasionally with the braising liquid. Remove the legs from the liquid and tent with foil. Strain the braising liquid into a clean pan, and reduce to desired consistency. Season with salt and pepper. At the last minute, swirl in the butter, if using.

If doing the Grandmére garnish, cut the bacon into batonnets, about ¼” wide, and 1 ½” long. Place them in cold water and bring to a boil, then drain. Fry them until golden brown, then saute the onions and mushrooms in the bacon fat until golden.

Remove the string from the chicken and slice neatly, pouring the sauce around it. If using, garnish with the bacon, onions, and mushrooms.

*equal parts butter and flour

In Defense of Legumes: White Bean Stew

I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again: I like cooking with legumes. They can be the basis for some excellent dishes like this one and this one; they pair beautifully with curry, and they can be turned into some delicious dips. The truth is, though, if you took my favorite legume-based dish and matched it up with my favorite meat-based dish and asked me which one I liked more, meat would win, hands down. Meat adds fat, flavor complexity, and texture to a dish. It should be eaten sparingly, but also, with great enjoyment. So, when I decided to make white beans stewed in tomato sauce for dinner a few nights ago, I hoped it would be good, but I expected that it would not have the same depth and richness that a meat-based stew would have.

Before moving on, let me qualify this belief: first of all, if what I really crave is the multi-layered pleasure of eating meat, is it really true that I enjoy legumes, that they are, in fact, one of my favorite types of ingredients to work with? I’ll answer by explaining that the reasons why I enjoy cooking with and eating legumes are very different from the reasons why I enjoy cooking with and eating meat. While meat adds fat, flavor complexity, and texture to a dish, legumes tend to compliment other delicious flavors, rather than add their own. They don’t have all that much flavor by themselves, but they work as an excellent canvas for other ingredients and distinctive aromatics.

Now, getting back to my white bean stew: I had seen recipes for white beans cooked in tomato sauce a number of times before, so I decided to make my own version. I figured if I made a good tomato sauce and cooked the beans in it, I would have myself a decent meal. Maybe not as exciting as something like the Ragu Bolognese I made recently, but good enough for a healthy, simple (in flavor, not so much in preparation) Thursday night dinner.

Well, let’s just say that I vastly underestimated the potential for flavor development without any animal protein. The basis for my stew was pretty simple: sweat mirepoix, stir in some garlic, red pepper flakes, and dried herbs.

I stirred in some tomato paste and let that cook a little, then I deglazed with white wine. I stirred in a can of tomatoes, some water, and my soaked white beans. Once that got simmering, I added some sugar, salt, and pepper. I also added a few ingredients that I think helped developed a more intriguing flavor profile than a basic, meatless tomato sauce: some smoked paprika, a few drops of Worcestershire sauce, and a glug of balsamic vinegar.

The paprika adds a bit of spice, and a whisper of smokiness; the Worcestershire adds seasoning, and a hint of something dark, almost meaty, and the balsamic adds a little acid, a little sweetness, and that deep, caramel taste this vinegar embodies.

I stewed it for about an hour and a half in my enameled cast-iron pot, lid on until the final twenty minutes. In that last bit of cooking time, I tasted and seasoned a lot, working toward the rich, satisfying stew I wanted.

I threw in some chopped fresh basil at the last moment, and served it with faro. I think the stew would work well with any grain, preferably a whole grain, because I think that not only does the stew stand up well to the heartiness of whole grains, but even needs that backbone of something stronger than white rice or white pasta.

The dish was a total success—I was really pleased with the results. Meat may impart flavor and richness that all-vegetable protein can’t match, but legumes encompass a whole different eating experience, one that shouldn’t be brushed aside.

White Beans Stewed in Tomato Sauce
Serves 4
1 tbsp. extra-virgin olive oil
1 carrot, ¼” dice
1 celery stalk, ¼” dice
1 medium onion, ¼” dice
2 cloves garlic, minced
¼ tsp. crushed red pepper flakes
1 bay leaf
1 tsp. each dried basil, thyme, rosemary, marjoram, and oregano
2 tbsp. tomato paste
½ cup dry white wine
1 28 oz. can whole peeled tomatoes
1 ½ cups water (or, fill the tomato can halfway with water to get any remnants of tomato on the sides of the can)
1 cup dry white beans (white kidney beans, cannellini beans, or great northern beans), soaked 8-24 hours
½ tsp. smoked paprika
½-1 tsp. Worcestershire sauce
1-2 tbsp. balsamic vinegar
1 tsp. sugar
Salt and pepper, to taste
2 tbsp. chopped fresh basil

In a large, enameled cast-iron pot (or any heavy-bottomed pot with a tight-fitting lid), heat the oil over moderate heat. Add the carrot, celery, and onion and sweat for about eight minutes, stirring often, and being careful not to brown the vegetables. Stir in the garlic and crushed red pepper and cook a minute longer. Stir in the herbs and tomato paste, and cook a few minutes more, until the tomato paste begins to take on a rusty color and sticks to the bottom of the pot. Increase the heat to medium-high, and add the wine. Let that cook down almost until it is gone, scraping the bottom of the pot as it reduces.

Stir in the tomatoes, water, beans, paprika, Worcestershire, balsamic, sugar, and a little salt and pepper. Bring to a simmer, then cover and let it cook for an hour or a little more, stirring and tasting occasionally. When you stir, break the tomatoes up with your spoon. Season with salt and pepper as you go. In the final twenty minutes of cooking, let the stew simmer uncovered. Taste frequently, adjusting with salt, pepper, sugar, Worcestershire, and balsamic to suit your tastes. Try a bean; make sure it has softened enough. If not, keep cooking until the beans have reached the desired consistency (put the cover back on if this is taking a long time—you don’t want the stew to reduce too much).

Stir in the basil, and remove from heat. Serve hot with faro, wheat berries, barley, brown rice, or whole wheat pasta.

A Cleansing Relief

It’s pretty much a cliché by now: January arrives, and after a week or two of celebrating, heavy eating, and drinking more than usual, many make resolutions to exercise more, eat healthier, lose five pounds, etc. I don’t want to bore you with another tale of holiday over-indulgence leading to some half-hearted promise to become a healthier me. While I certainly did eat more and exercise less during the last half of December, I think that in general, I have a pretty healthy lifestyle, and I don’t see any reason to change much: I try to eat smartly, exercise regularly, and drink moderately, while still enjoying the pleasures of food and drink as much as I can. So, when January rolled around, it would seem logical that I would simply return to my regular, health-conscious habits, right?

This year, that didn’t quite feel like enough. I wanted something a little more, something to kick-start me back into those regular habits again. At Christmas, my aunt told me about what she does a few times a year when she wants to rid her body of the toxins of over-indulgence, or even of everyday life: she does a cleanse. For about a week, she told me, she cuts everything out of her diet that she believes might be possible irritants to her system: processed foods, gluten, refined sugar, fruit, caffeine, and alcohol. She eats a lot of vegetables, legumes, some lean meats, and drinks plenty of water.

I’ll admit, I was skeptical: it sounded a lot like a diet (as in, a strict dietary regimen that one follows temporarily in order to lose weight, or otherwise improve one’s health), and I am not a fan of diets. I am a firm believer that the key to physical health is to make lifestyle changes, not to temporarily follow an unrealistic diet that will only prompt over-eating once the diet is finished. But my aunt’s cleanse is not really like this. The point of the cleanse is not specifically to lose weight, it is to give your body a chance to rid itself of toxins and irritants. It gives internal organs like your liver and kidneys, which normally have to work hard to filter out anything potentially harmful to your body that you ingest, a break and a chance to clear out and clean up. This part of the concept made a lot of sense to me: a brief period with as few irritants and toxins as possible, then back to my regular, realistic, but still healthful eating habits. So, I decided to give it a shot.

I started last Tuesday, the morning after Andrew and I got back to Seattle from Montreal. (We arrived late Monday night, exhausted and famished, so we ordered pepperoni pizza and garlic bread sticks—talk about the exact opposite of what I planned on eating for the next week!) My own cleanse was a little different from my aunt’s, based on my own body. I cut out as much processed food as possible, refined sugar, gluten, white rice, dairy, meat (except for a little fish), anything fried, caffeine, and alcohol. I have been eating lots of vegetables, legumes, and whole grains, and drinking lots of water. After dinner each night, I take a milk thistle supplement, an herb known for its beneficial properties to the liver, and which is often taken in conjunction with a cleanse. A few explanations:

-I saw no reason to cut out fruit: fruit is so full of fiber, vitamins, minerals, and antioxidants, it almost seemed harmful to eliminate it. I didn’t gorge myself on fruit, either, though—it is high in sugar.

-I decided to eat pretty much vegan (cutting out meat and dairy), not because I believe animal products (in moderation) are unhealthy, but because I think that my body could benefit from a break from them. I did have a small amount of fish, though.

-Gluten: I wasn’t sure about this one. While to most people, there is nothing unhealthy about gluten—in fact, products made from whole wheat flour are high in fiber and very good for you—your body does have to work a little harder in order to digest and process that gluten. So, again, I decided my body could benefit from a period without.

A few things I have been eating so far:

-Roasted beats drizzled with olive oil and sprinkled with a little sea salt
-Brown rice pilaf with Edamame beans and flax seeds
-Vegetables dipped in homemade hummus
-Roasted nori, sprinkled with sea salt
-Oatmeal drizzled with maple syrup
-Trader Joe’s Organic Whole Grain Drink (a really delicious creamy, milk-like beverage)
-Soup of mixed beans, barley, kale, and cabbage
-Quinoa pasta with mixed vegetables and tuna
-Quinoa pasta with sage and roasted butternut squash
-Yogi Detox tea
-Lots and lots of water: plain water, and water with lemon
-Diced avocado tossed lightly with sesame oil, sesame seeds, and sea salt
-Detox shake of spinach, apple, banana, garlic, cayenne, lemon juice, and water (surprisingly delicious and satisfying!)
-Shake of whole grain drink, banana, and ground flax seeds

Everything I have listed above truly is tasty and satisfying. Could I eat this way for the rest of my life? No way. I don’t even know if I could handle a month of it: there are too many things I would miss too much. In fact, this diet is probably lacking in some of the essential nutrients that keep me healthy, so while this diet is beneficial, and even enjoyable, for the very short-term, I don’t think it would work for the long-term. Not for me, anyways.

Maybe I’m being hypocritical by saying that I’m not for weight-loss diets, but I am willing to do, and believe in, a cleanse diet. They aren’t quite the same thing, but some of the concepts are similar: they are both temporary food regimens in order to improve one’s health in some way. Hopefully, mine will have the desired effect of cleansing my body, and I will be able to adjust right back into my usual, health-conscious, but still deliciousness-conscious diet easily. Or, maybe I’m just kidding myself.

Some websites of interest:
I’m not the only one with the idea to cleanse in January: Bon Appétit has a Food-Lover’s Cleanse outlined for readers. It’s more lenient than mine, but lasts longer.

I got a lot of ideas from a website called Just Cleansing. It offers a good overview of why and how to cleanse.

True Ragu Bolognese

I want to share a dish I made way back in September, when the tomato season was just coming to a close, and weather for hot, savory comfort food was just beginning. The dish was something I had made many times before, but in a different form. In this other form, I think it can only be called “spaghetti sauce”: a combination of canned tomatoes, ground beef, onion, garlic, and various herbs, simmered for maybe an hour or so, then served over spaghetti pasta with parmesan on the side. I think that most North American families have some form of this recipe, and it is almost always a favorite. This time, though, I decided I wanted to do it right, or, more accurately, do it traditionally. I wanted to make a true ragu Bolognese. This is probably something that few non-Italians can describe correctly. I, myself, am no expert, but thanks to a little research and some experimenting, I think I can cover the main points. Here’s what you need to know: a true ragu Bolognese has tomato in it, but it is not a tomato sauce. It also has milk in it, but it is not a cream sauce. It has a good amount of meat in it as well, but it is not a stew. Its true nature is a thick, savory, luscious sauce that is suffuse with incredible flavor, and is a perfect balance of creamy and acidic.

I also decided that I wanted to really make the sauce and all of its components from scratch, so instead of using canned tomato sauce, I made my own with tomato sauce from the farmer’s market.

I also bought one-pound of bottom round and ground it myself in my food processor.

Were these steps necessary? Well, no, you can make an excellent sauce using a good-quality canned tomato product, and high-quality ground beef from your butcher, and you’ll save yourself a couple of hours. I liked knowing that everything was as fresh as you can get it, and that my own skills were really responsible for everything in that sauce. So, if you have the whole afternoon to make your Bolognese, and tomatoes are in season (don’t bother if they aren’t), I’d recommend making your own sauce and grinding your own meat.
Deb at Smitten Kitchen showed how to make a great tomato sauce, and this video will give you a good idea of how to grind your own meat. Don’t forget to keep that meat cold at all times!

I looked through a number of “true” ragu Bolognese recipes, but ended up using directions from Mario Batali here. Don’t just follow the recipe—watch the video. That’s where he explains the true techniques and why to employ them. I didn’t follow his recipe exactly, though—I made a few small changes.

To start, I followed Batali’s advice and sweated mirepoix in an enameled pot in butter and olive oil, keeping the heat around medium-low, and really trying to evaporate the water out of the vegetables. Listen to the man: this is not a sauce you can rush if you want to make it correctly.

For the meat, I used only ground beef, which worked out wonderfully, but I’m sure that the combination of pork, veal, and beef he suggests would be fantastic. Again, I made sure that I really rendered that meat, melting all the fat, cooking out all the liquid.

Now, here’s where I departed from Batali’s method the most: instead of using only tomato paste, I couldn’t resist using some of my lovely, homemade tomato sauce as well. So, I only mixed in a couple of tablespoons of tomato paste, let that cook for ten minutes or so, then added two cups of my tomato sauce, and let that reduce by about two thirds.

Then came the milk, then the wine, each reduced down separately so that they can impart their flavors adequately.

I covered the pot, and let it cook for a couple of hours. Then, I added some fresh rosemary, and seasoned with salt and pepper. Finally, I combined it with parmesan and cooked spaghetti, creating a magnificent little piece of Italian heaven.

You may be thinking to yourself, is this really worth all the time it takes? Do I really want to spend several hours making some kind of glorified spaghetti sauce? The answer to both this questions is a definitive yes. This sauce exemplifies the concept of developing flavor over time brilliantly. The resulting ragu has so much complexity, so many wonderful flavor notes, that you will know as soon as you taste it that you could never make anything like this in only a half hour. Also, this is nothing so banal as “spaghetti sauce”: this is ragu Bolognese.

Ragu Bolognese
Adapted from Mario Batali at Savory.tv
Serves 4-6

5 tbsp extra virgin olive oil
3 tbsp butter
1 carrot, finely diced
1 medium onion diced
1 rib celery finely diced
1 clove garlic, sliced
1 ½ lbs. good quality ground beef
2 tbsp. tomato paste
2 cups excellent tomato sauce
1 cup milk
1 cup dry white wine
Kosher salt and freshly ground black pepper
Leaves from one sprig of rosemary, chopped
Parmigiano-Reggiano, to grate
1 lb. spaghetti, cooked in salted water

In a 6 to 8-quart, heavy bottomed saucepan, heat the olive oil and butter over medium heat. Add the onions, celery, and garlic and sweat over medium heat until the vegetables are translucent and soft but not browned, about 10 to 15 minutes. Add the beef and stir into the vegetables. Add the meat over high heat, stirring to keep the meat from sticking together until browned. Add the tomato paste, and cook, stirring, for ten minutes or so, until the tomato paste has caramelized. Add the tomato sauce and let that reduce by about two thirds. Add the milk, and allow that to reduce down until it is nearly gone. Do the same with the wine. Cover and simmer over medium-low heat for 1 to 1 1/2 hours. Stir in the rosemary, then season with salt and pepper, to taste, and remove from the heat.

When ready to use, the cooked pasta should be added to a saucepan with the appropriate amount of hot ragu Bolognese and Parmigiano-Reggiano, and tossed so that the pasta is evenly coated by the ragu. Serve with more Parm on the side.

Spaghetti Squash Two Ways

This probably isn’t news to you: it’s fall and winter squash are in season. For many of us, the yellow, orange, and green colors, and the savory-sweet, nutty flavor of winter squash go hand in hand with leaves changing colors and sandals getting pushed to the back of the closet until next June. There are so many possibilities: acorn squash roasted to perfection with butter and maple syrup, butternut squash pureed into a spicy, comforting soup, and, of course, sweet pumpkin filling a perfect pie and topped with whipped cream. This week, though, I decided to tackle spaghetti squash.

If you purchase a spaghetti squash and wonder how it got its name, the answer will become evident as soon as you cook it. Grab a fork and begin to scoop the seemingly solid flesh of the cooked fruit, and it will immediately pull away from the shell in vermicelli-like golden threads. It’s kind of fun, and allows for a whole new realm of possibilities that other types of squash don’t offer. Unlike other varieties, spaghetti squash are not ideal for pureeing, which, though not the only preparation of winter squash, it must be the most common. You can actually treat these strands of squash as you would pasta. There were so many opportunities for experimentation, I knew I couldn’t choose only one. So, I tried two different methods for cooking the squash, and two different methods for preparing the flesh.

Night one was spaghetti squash with meat sauce. I cooked the squash using the method that was the quickest, and most commonly used in the recipes I looked at: steamed in the microwave. Now, the word “microwave” is normally an immediate deal-breaker for me—I use my microwave for reheating, not for cooking. Also, the microwave methods all involved wrapping the squash in plastic wrap, a practice that did not seem safe to me. The box may read “Microwave Safe”, but I usually steer clear of putting any plastic in the microwave—we don’t know enough about what may get leeched out of the plastic during the cooking process, and what kind of harm that may do to us. All of that said, I was intrigued enough to try this quick and easy method that so many recipes recommended. So, after halving the squash and scooping out the seeds, I turned half of it flesh-side down in a glass dish, added a quarter cup of water, covered it in plastic wrap, and microwaved on high for 12 minutes.

Well, it certainly worked: the squash came out fully cooked, and pulling away from its shell in beautiful, individual strands, just as it should. I added some salt, pepper, and a dash of olive oil and set it aside to work on my meat sauce.

I kept my sauce simple. I didn’t cook it for as long as I would cook a Bolognese, and I think it kept the flavors simpler and fresher, perfect for allowing the taste of the squash to come through. It was a basic combination of some local, grass-fed beef, mirepoix, garlic, wine, canned whole peeled tomatoes with their juice, and various herbs and seasonings. I let it cook down for about forty minutes: just long enough to let it concentrate a little and to bring out the flavors of the herbs.

I mixed the cooked squash with the sauce, scooped it back into the shell, topped it with Parmigiano-Reggiano, and baked it for about half an hour to allow it to concentrate just a little more. I loved this combination: the squash and the herby tomato sauce, along with the earthy taste of the grass-fed beef made me think of harvest, wet, fallen leaves, and the comfort of hot food on a cool night. In other words, it tasted like autumn.

On night two, I opted for a more classic cooking method for the squash, and a simpler preparation of the final product, more of a side dish than a main course. This time, I roasted the squash in a 375 F oven. I brushed a baking sheet with vegetable oil, sprinkled the halved squash with salt and pepper, placed in face-down on the sheet, and baked for about thirty-five minutes.

Need I say more? Just looking at that deepened color, and the golden edges of that squash told me right away that this method had produced a richer, more flavorful product than the steamed version. The rest was pretty simple: I melted butter in a hot sauté pan, added the squash strands and tossed it for a couple of minutes, allowing a little more of the liquid to cook out of it. I sprinkled it with a little more salt and pepper, and added a dash of nutmeg. It made for an unexpectedly light side dish, highlighting the combination of savory and sweet that makes squash so delicious and versatile.

These were two of many possible preparations of spaghetti squash. I liked both, but in the future, I will definitely be roasting my squash rather than microwave-steaming it. Try one of these recipes, or make up your own. You should do it soon, though: the squash season will be over before you know it.

Spaghetti Squash with Meat Sauce
Serves 4

1 tbsp. olive oil
8 oz. ground beef, preferably grass-fed
Salt and pepper
½ cup ¼” diced onion
¼ cup ¼” diced carrot
¼ cup ¼” diced celery
1 tbsp. minced garlic
¼ tsp. dried red pepper flakes
½ cup dry red wine
1 28 oz. can whole peeled tomatoes, with juice
1 tsp. ketchup
1 bay leaf
1 tsp. dried basil
1 tsp. dried rosemary
1 tsp. dried thyme
½ tsp. dried oregano
1 spaghetti squash, halved, seeds scooped out
¼ cup finely grated Parmigiano-Reggiano

In a medium enameled cast-iron casserole, or a large, heavy saucepan, heat the olive oil over medium-high heat until it shimmers. Add the ground beef season with salt and pepper. Brown until no pink remains. Use a slotted spoon to transfer beef to a side dish. Reduce heat to medium, and add the onion, carrot, and celery to the drippings. Sauté until vegetables have softened and onion is translucent, about ten minutes. Stir in the garlic and red pepper flakes, and cook one minute longer.

Return the beef to the pot, and increase the heat to medium-high. Add the red wine and deglaze, scraping the bottom of the pan. Stir in the tomatoes, ketchup, and dried herbs. Simmer for forty minutes, stirring occasionally, and breaking up the tomatoes with a wooden spoon.

Meanwhile, place the squash, cut side down in a large, glass baking dish. Add enough water to cover the bottom of the dish, then cover tightly with microwave-safe plastic wrap. Microwave on high for about twelve minutes, until shell can easily be pierced with a fork. (Alternately, roast the squash using the method in the recipe below.) Using a fork, pull the flesh of the squash away from the shell, separating it into strands.

Stir the squash strands in with the finished sauce, taste, and season with salt and pepper as necessary. Scoop the squash and sauce into the emptied shells, and top with Parmigiano-Reggiano. Place on a baking sheet, and bake in a 375 F oven for about 30 minutes, until Parm has melted and browned slightly, and filling is heated through. Cut each half in half, and serve one quarter squash per person.

Butter-Sautéed Spaghetti Squash with Nutmeg
Serves 4

1 tsp. olive oil
Salt and pepper
1 spaghetti squash, halved, seeds scooped out
1 tbsp. butter
½ tsp. nutmeg

Preheat oven to 375 F. Brush a baking sheet with olive oil. Sprinkle squash with salt and pepper, and place cut side down on baking sheet. Roast squash for thirty-five minutes, until shell can easily be pierced with a fork. Use a fork to pull squash flesh away from the shell into strands.

Heat a sauté pan over medium heat, and add butter to it. When foam has subsided, add the spaghetti squash strands to it. Sauté for a couple of minutes, tossing, and letting some of the moisture cook out of the squash. Season with salt, pepper, and nutmeg.