It’s blueberry season in Texas

I have been neglecting to share too many goodies with you.  Work and house have interfered with important communicae involving homemade grapefruit curd slathered on whole grain shortbread with bits of carrot and apple baked inside.  Zucchini casserole with just the right crispy top.  Each are worthy of an entry and will get their day in the blog sun.

But then blueberry season just came at me out of nowhere.  And the thing is, Texas blueberries are here one minute and gone the next.  So I got a whole bunch of them, and after eating a little in my breakfast all week long, I figured out what to do with them.

I knew this recipe was a winner as soon as I read it.  I made two changes:  I used my own crust recipe (the original was very complicated, and I don’t like a sweet crust), and I lowered the sugar content in the custard (the berries are very sweet, and I used a few extra).

Sweet blueberries baked until they pop, lemony custard, and a nutty tender crust.  It is this combination that should officially begin summer. Well, I know blueberries come later in other places, so humor me.  Now you have a plan for when they do show up.  And although it presents fancy, it is super easy.

The crust was spread a little thin (I forgot to make a little extra for the 10 inch tart pan).  And I baked it slightly too long, it was a little dark– but I actually loved the nutty taste it gave.  Made me consider making this with actual nuts in the crust next time– some ground almonds or walnuts.

There are a couple versions of the tart floating around the blogosphere.  Most notably on the New York Times Dining and Wine archives.  But that one has 1/3 cup confectioners sugar in the crust, and 1 whole cup of sugar in the custard.  It would be outrageously sweet– why bother with the fresh fruit?  The others use either corn starch, gelatin, or tapioca– but with 3 egg yolks this seemed unnecessary (the custard set up very nicely with only a little help from flour and eggs).  Considering every brand of non-organic buttermilk has artificial thickeners in it, I suppose if you want your tart to be rubbery you could add more thickeners, but it just isn’t necessary.  I used organic low-fat buttermilk, but I prefer the full fat when I can get it organic.

 

Blueberry Buttermilk Tart

adapted from Gourmet, July 1990

1 ten inch tart crust, blind baked ( I use David Lebovitz’s French recipe)

2 1/2 cups fresh blueberries, picked over

1 cup organic buttermilk

1/4 cup sugar plus 2 tablespoons

3 egg yolks

zest of one lemon

1 tablespoon lemon juice

1 tsp vanilla extract

1/2 tsp salt

2 tablespoons flour

1/2 stick unsalted butter, melted and cooled

Preheat the oven to 350 degrees.  Place the tart crust in its mold onto a baking sheet.  This makes it easier to handle.  Spread the berries evenly in the tart crust.  Blend buttermilk and all remaining ingredients together with a whisk until thoroughly combined.  Pour over berries.  Carefully transfer to the oven and bake for 30 minutes.  Allow to cool about 15-20 minutes before removing tart from mold.  Serve with fresh whipped cream.  Note:  a ten inch tart cut into 6 large pieces has about 350 calories per piece.  Not bad for dessert!

 

 

 

 

charcuterie

Chorizo is a big deal here in South Texas.  The regional version is a more laid back sausage than its Spanish ancestor, but it packs a punch.  Although it comes in a casing, it is usually cooked like a ground meat broken up, and quite greasy.  Unlike Spanish chorizo, it is not cured or dried.  It is a common breakfast food served mixed in with scrambled eggs, or with refried beans in a flour tortilla, or with breakfast potatoes on the side.  It adds a spicy vinegary flavor, and is usually deep orange-red and full of chili powder, cumin, and garlic.

Tlacuache loves the chorizo from the San Manuel chorizo factory on I-37 South (between San Antonio and McAllen).  He says he prefers it because of the smooth texture– the lack of gristle or other tough little bits.  I suppose I value this too in a sausage, but I didn’t realize there was so much bad sausage that this was an issue.

Chorizo Verde is not really a South Texas thing– it is popular in some parts of Mexico, but not here.  However, a few months ago I bought some chorizo verde from a charcuterie stand at the farmers market.  It was rustic (not in a tough bits kind of way) and refreshing, wrapped in butcher paper, but with no casing.  Since then, I don’t think I can go back to factory-made chorizo.  The chartcuterie unexpectedly went out of business, despite their mad popularity.  Fast forward to last week when I got a discount off my order from Greenlings, and stocked up on local veggies and meats.

Even though all the recipes I read called for a fatty cut of pork butt for this, I took two giant 2-inch thick pork chops, and removed all the meat and fat from the bones that I could.  I think what is more important than the cut of the pork is the quality of it.  (Although I wouldn’t use an extra lean pork tenderloin.)  This pork is local pastured  pork from Richardson farms.  Rule of thumb is that it should be firm and a nice deep pink, not too pale or soft.  You can use a meat grinder for this recipe, but I actually used a food processor and it worked fine.

I ate this all by itself on warm white corn tortillas I made, with a dollop of sour cream and a little cilantro.  Some of the ingredients are essential– serranos, cilantro, onion, garlic– but some you can tweak to your liking.  I prefer a little allspice or nutmeg, and plenty of coriander.  I also like to use white wine instead of vinegar.  The chives were a chance addition– needing to be used up and adding to the verde.

I scooped this into individual portions onto parchment paper, then wrapped them and froze them for later use.

Chorizo Verde

1 pound pork chop or butt

1/2 white onion, diced

2 serrano chiles, seeds removed, minced

2 cloves garlic, sliced

2 tablespoons chopped fresh chives

1 cup fresh cilantro, chopped

1 tsp salt

3 tablespoons white vinegar or white wine

1 tsp fresh ground black pepper

1/2 tsp cayenne pepper

1 tsp allspice

1 tsp coriander

1/2 tsp ground cumin

Process the meat a few seconds in the food processor.  Add everything except the cilantro, and process about ten seconds.  Transfer the sausage to a bowl, and use a wooden spoon to stir in the chopped cilantro until thoroughly combined.  Scoop into portions for patties, or crumble loosely into an oiled frying pan and cook on medium-high until browned and firm.

A long-time coming

This salad has been a long-time coming.  It is  inspired by a salad I bought at the Central Market deli last fall, containing kale, cranberries, almonds, and sometimes candied ginger and pumpkin seeds.  Yes, sometimes they change the ingredients (maybe they too knew the salad was on the verge of perfection, but not quite there).  But the dressing is usually consistent: a delightful orange juice vinaigrette with shallots.

This portion is two days old in fact. The candied pineapple bits have absorbed the dressing, and the kale is still lively.

What is so great about this salad is that it is not raw kale the way you might imagine: tough, fibrous, stringy.  Also, unlike most fancy fresh green salads, you can make this ahead of time– in fact you can make it, and dress it, and eat it for a couple of days– and it wont get mushy.  It is really a life saver for those of us who work for a living and want to eat fresh veggies everyday but don’t always have the stamina to cook them or prep them everyday (or take more than one photo for this blog post! oops).

So lets redefine convenience food!  It is more like a side salad than a traditional green salad. Hence its appearance in the deli case.  However, I have been known to eat an entire meal of this.

But you do need to make it in advance– a couple of hours– so that the dressing can make the kale tender. You can shred the carrot fine or in thick ribbons, depending on the amount of crunch you want.  The candied dried pineapple can usually be found in the bulk section, either in small cubes or in bigger pieces you could cut up.  Although candied and sugary, I have found equal amounts of candied pineapple has much less sugar than cranberries, which are so tart they come heavily sweetened.

If you have ever had a good southern carrot salad with raisins and pineapple, you will like this greener version.  The flavors are there, but it is more savory.  I started out trying to duplicate the Central Market version, but soon realized it could be improved upon.  The cranberries were too overpowering, and the ginger didn’t meld its flavors (chopped crystalized pieces).

After several versions, and several attempts at the dressing, I think I have a salad I will make again and again.  The orange juice was from those powerfully sweet Texas oranges, so if you have lesser oranges, you may have to add a little sugar to balance the vinegar.  The texture of the roasted salted pumpkin seeds is better than other nuts, because they are small and crisp, and distribute themselves much better than almonds.  You could really make this with any dried fruit and nut combination, but like I said, I tried several, and this is the one I love.

Kale Salad with Orange Shallot Vinaigrette

1 bunch Kale, stems removed, in pieces

1-2 shredded carrots

1/2 cup diced candied pineapple

1/2 cup roasted salted pumpkin seeds

Vinaigrette:

Juice of one sweet orange (about 1/4 to 1/3 cup)

1/4 cup olive oil

1/8 cup white vinegar or rice vinegar

1 tsp dijon mustard

1 shallot, minced

salt and pepper to taste

1/2 tsp sugar (or more, to taste)

Directions: Place all salad ingredients in a large freezer bag.  Whisk together dressing until emulsified.  Pour the dressing into the bag, seal.  Massage the bag until the dressing coats all the leaves of the kale.  Pour into a serving bowl or container, and let rest for 1-2 hours.

Poteet Strawberry Festival Bounty: two recipes

Wheeler Farms Berries

Although much of this festival involves carnival rides, cotton candy, and other ubiquitous fair foods and activities, we did come home with a flat of some very sweet and delicious strawberries from Wheeler Farms.  It would have been nice if more of the food booths (all of which are run by volunteers and benefit various community organizations) served homemade foods actually featuring local berries, but only a few did.  We got some awesome preserves– Strawberry Fig and Strawberry Habanero– from Uncertain Farms.  We walked around taking turns carrying this flat of berries.  I had to use the berries right away (or else freeze them, which I did with half), so here are the results.  I present this post in two parts: 1. Shortcake, and 2. Salsa.

Part 1: Shortcake

I discovered booth after booth serving something they called “Strawberry Short Cake” that was not actually shortcake, but sponge cake.  I find this interesting, since the name is in reference to the actual process of cutting shortening into flour (resulting in a biscuit like texture) which is nothing like sponge cake.

After talking to some folks born and raised here, I realized it turns out Texas may be filled with people who have never actually had a shortcake, but only think they have.  I think this is primarily due to the fact that, even here in the country town of Poteet, TX, store bought cake has replaced homemade, and this is what causes such confusion.

Think about it– what kind of cake do they sell next to the berries in the grocery store?  Sponge cake.  Not just angel food cake, but little square or rectangular sponge cakes. Once at work someone offered me some of this cake, only they were calling it “pound cake” (also something else, much different).  But since this blog is all about preserving homemade foods, I politely present this exposé on the misnomer “shortcake” for all things sponge cake.

I have nothing against a good sponge cake.  I happily ate some at the festival, and was pleased to find the fresh berries were just lightly sweetened, and the whipped cream was fresh-made on site (not from a can!).  We even watched as three people worked to clean the giant whisk attachment used to make the quantities of whipped cream at the water spigot.

I only want to clear this up because I think the two cakes cannot be more different, and a true shortcake is a delight, especially when you have berries this sweet and fresh.  You see, shortcake is more buttery than sweet, and the contrast with the berries and their juices, the creamy whipped cream, makes all that red sweet tang just pure genius.  Also, a shortcake does not get soggy like a sponge cake– so you can really load it with berries and juices and not worry about it turning to mush.   This is one of those traditional national dishes that is perfect the way it is, doesn’t need a ton of sugar to be decadent and indulgent, and has wonderful contrast and texture.

So of course, I had to make some.

And now you can too:

Strawberry Shortcake

adapted from Betty Crocker

1 quart fresh strawberries (the smaller, wickedly sweet ones used for jam, which you can only buy at farms, farmers markets, and roadside stands)

1/4- 1/2 cup sugar (to taste)

2 cups flour

2 tablespoons sugar

3 tsps baking powder

1 tsp salt

1/3 cup butter or non-hydrogenated shortening

1 cup whole milk

1 pint heavy whipping cream, sugar and vanilla to taste

Preheat oven to 450 degrees.  Slice berries and mix with sugar; set aside to allow juices to come out.  Combine dry ingredients.  Cut butter or shortening into dry ingredients using knives or pastry cutter until dough is coarse pea-sized crumbles.  Stir in milk until well-combined.  Press dough into a pie plate or 8 x 8 baking pan.  Bake for about 20 minutes, until golden brown.  Whip cream with sugar and vanilla until soft peaks form.  Serve shortcake warm with berries and whipped cream. 

Part 2: Salsa

Since we had so many berries, I just have to give you two recipes.  The next one was loved by all in my lunch bunch at work, plus a Spanish teacher who took some home with her.  Someone even offered to pay me in barter for this recipe.  Well, all you have to do is subscribe to my blog, and I will call it even.  I have been putting it on my dinner all week and loving it.  Sweet, savory, and smokey– this chili sauce has been nicknamed “Strawlsa” since it is made with 1 full cup of fresh ripe strawberries. The dried chiles are commonly found with the spices in the produce section, or the aisle where the Maseca is stocked.

Homemade sopes with cabbage lime slaw and strawberry ancho salsa

Strawberry Ancho Salsa (aka, Strawlsa)

1 cup fresh hulled strawberries (the sweeter, the better)

2 Ancho chiles (dried poblanos)

1 guajillo chile

1 small clove garlic (I used a very mild German Red fresh garlic, so be careful with stronger varieties)

1/2 cup onion

1 tsp vinegar

1 tsp salt

1/2 tsp coriander

1/2 to 1 whole chipotle en adobo (depends on how spicy you like it)

juice of one lime

Cut off stems and remove seeds from the chiles.  Toast the chiles in a dry frying pan until fragrant.  Boil water and soak chiles until soft.  Puree everything until very smooth in the food processor or blender. Adjust salt and lime or vinegar to taste if needed.  Serve with corn chips, on tacos, etc.  Excellent when combined with sour cream, or carne asada.

Easter Dips and Crudité

Easter weekend in San Antonio is about kids sneaking up on you and smashing cascarones– eggs filled with confetti– on your head while you luxuriate in a plastic deck chair eating BBQ under a hundred year old pecan tree.

I got to eat Puerto Rican rice with pigeon peas and Sazon, BBQ pork ribs and capirotada (Mexican bread pudding with cheddar cheese), and my friend Michelle’s Puerto Rican salad dressing– which was FULL of garlic and so delicious.  Everything was delicious.  As promised on facebook, I bring you my contribution to the festivities, which was a little random, but colorful. Two dips: Beet and Tahini and a Dill dip.

The Beet and Tahini dip is actually good on sandwiches too, and both dips are good with blue corn chips.  I imagine the Beet dip would be awesome on a falafel sandwich, considering it is an Arab dish and has all the makings of a sort of super-tahini.  Don’t be alarmed by how it resembles tempera paint when you finish processing it.  It is kind of like a hummus, but with beets instead of chick peas.  I had a ton of veggies on hand from the farmers market, so I made a crudite platter, with blanched green beans and broccoli, carrots and celery.

Beet and Tahini Dip

adapted from The Arab Table by May Bsisu

1/2 cup plain full fat greek yogurt or really fresh buttermilk

1 pound small beets, greens trimmed, rinsed and scrubbed

1 tsp salt

1/4 tsp white vinegar

4 cloves garlic, mashed

2/3 cup fresh lemon juice

1/3 cup sesame tahini

Place a paper towel on the yogurt to absorb the water.  Roast the beets on a cookie sheet at 400 degrees for about an hour (until fork tender).  Allow them to cool.  Remove the skins when cool enough to handle.  Puree in a food processor with the other ingredients until very smooth and opaque.  Adjust salt and tahini for taste, add yogurt for creaminess.  The beets are very sweet, so you will need all that lemon juice.

Dill Dip

adapted from some vegans in Portland, OR.

14 oz block of firm organic tofu

1 bunch fresh dill

1 large clove of garlic

3-4 tsps Bragg’s liquid aminos

2 tablespoons olive or canola oil

salt to taste

Pick the small tendrils of the dill off the larger stems.  Discard stems.  Combine all ingredients in food processor.  Pulse for 15-20 seconds until very smooth. Adjust salt if needed.

Pandering

One of my new rules about sugar is not to eat sweets unless I make them from scratch. This excludes chocolate Easter bunnies, ice cream, and M & M’s. It’s important to put a few obstacles in front of sugar. Unfortunately, I discovered this lovely, simple, and indulgent treat. So put away the Cadbury eggs…

If you’ve never made candy (like myself until now) these are a great thing to try, as they are a cinch to make. You do have to stand a around and wait a bit, stirring and watching.

So many of the Mexican candies sold at the local eateries and shops are made of corn syrup, and they are so sweet and gooey I cannot bite into them. These beauties have a smoky fruity sweetness because they are made from a cone of piloncillo, an ancient unrefined sugar, now sold in the produce section.

Pecans, of course, are the regional favorite for confections. Fany Gerson, author of My Sweet Mexico calls this candy an heirloom sweet. In her research and travels she says most of the candy cookbooks were handwritten manuscripts. The point of these books was not only to preserve a recipe, but be a “guide for traditional life” that candy making is a part of in Mexico. She goes on to describe the history of this art form:

Most of the art of candy making was taught in small schools for indigenous and mestizo girls and teens…Patiently and with devotion, many a cook stirred these sweet concoctions in copper and clay pots, strained them through fine-mesh sieves, poured them into handmade molds, and shaped them into wonderful , delicate deliciousness. They were served on handcrafted platters made from talavera, ceramic, or silver. Eventually some of these candy artisans went out onto the streets to sell their handiwork, singing creative poems and rhymes to lure customers: Si no me compras el dulce mi amor, te come el tlacuache. (“If you dont buy my sweet, my love, the opossum will eat you.”)

Yum.  It is easy to keep the opossum at bay.

Piloncillo Candied Pecans

adapted from The Tex-Mex Cookbook by Robb Walsh

8 oz. piloncillo cone

1/3 cup water

1 cinnamon stick

1/8 tsp salt

2 tablespoons butter

1/2 tsp vanilla

1 and 1/2 cups pecan halves

Grate the piloncillo in a food processor using a grater attachment. Dissolve the piloncillo in the water in small sauce pan. Add the cinnamon and salt and bring to a boil on medium-high heat. When the mixture reaching a soft-ball candy stage (238 degrees) you will know because the large clear rapid bubbles will turn to a foamy even more rapid state. Remove from the heat and remove cinnamon stick. Add butter and vanilla and stir with a wooden spoon off the heat until the mixture begins to thicken. Add the pecans and mix them quickly into the mixture. Drop onto greased foil covered cookie sheet into ping pong ball sized clusters. Allow to cool 30 minutes.

Ensalada de nopalitos

This salad made from tender young cactus is a favorite in South Texas during Lent.  Nopales are also commonly cooked with scrambled eggs, and added to breakfast tacos.  They are one of the most important native plants in our diet here.  Some people say they taste like a tart green bean, but I think they are much more similar to okra.

I have a cactus next to my front porch that grows so fast it is a bit of a nuisance.  I should be eating this every day if I was trying to keep up with the growth. Make sure to pick the young bright green pads, not the larger thick ones. Use a big fork or skewer to catch them, while cutting them off the plant.  Do not touch them with your hands.  Take them on the fork to a cutting board in your sink. Trim the edges, then scrape all the large spines off (which actually contain many tiny invisible spines).  Rinse.

You can buy a bag of cleaned and chopped nopales in the produce section here, but what is more fun than foraging in the yard? Of course, if you don’t live where cactus grows, you might find a jar in the ethnic foods aisle.  But if you use the jar, rinse them off, as they tend to be very vinegary.

Some people boil their nopales, but I think, as with any cooked green, all the nutrients end up in the water that is tossed out.  I usually saute the cactus in a frying pan.  Today I grilled the pads on my cast iron grille pan, and it worked pretty nicely, except for the smoke.  Next time I will do it outside.

Like okra, nopales have slime.  Only nopales are slimy when raw and chopped, whereas okra has to cook for a bit before it oozes.  Cooking the cactus gets rid of some of the slime, but not all.

This is a simple salad you could add all sorts of things to. It is best served chilled, as a side dish.

Ensalada de Nopalitos

2 cups (about 6-8 pads) young tender cactus

1/4 onion, chopped fine

1/2 tomato, diced

1 tsp dried Mexican Oregano

4 tsp white vinegar or lime juice

2 tablespoons olive oil

1 chopped jalapeno (fresh or pickled, depending on how spicy you want it)

fresh cilantro and salt to taste

2/3 cup queso fresco, crumbled

Clean the nopales by trimming the edges and then removing all the spines with a sharp knife.  Brush with oil and grill, turning occasionally until the cactus changes from bright green to olive-green.  Let them cool, and then Julienne them.

Mix all ingredients together, chill before serving.

they will turn into princes

I know we have already sprung forward with fresh strawberry season here, but I needed to embrace our winter crops a little longer.  Winter is so plentiful here.  In particular, our Rio Grande Valley Citrus is very special.

Orange zest may be my all time favorite ingredient in baking.  And although you can walk around massive tables at Central Market (aka the Gucci-B) of literally dozens of varieties of citrus from all over the world, the small and kind of ugly scarred little oranges from Texas are superior in flavor, sweetness, and juiciness in any contest.  This is in part because they are not shipped around the world, and citrus loses a lot of nutritional value the longer it sits around, endures changes in temperature, etc.  Don’t be seduced by the pretty oranges from afar– buy the little ugly ones, kiss them, and they will turn into princes.

I have been reading my Christmas present, Edna Lewis’ The Taste of Country Cooking.  I love the way the book is organized by season and by whole meal menus, usually ending in pie and coffee.  Many of the recipes are so simple– you begin to realize how the whole is greater than the sum of its parts, and how the meal and people coming together is what that book is all about. In a world full of fancy recipes and cookbooks, there are still few cooks who can express this component of cooking so eloquently and authentically.

I was inspired by something called a Tyler pie, partly because of its simplicity– it seemed ripe for adaptation. I had those ugly sweet oranges.  I had honey.  And coriander seeds.  The result was a light and juicy custard, with a spice that is subtle and lemony, and melds perfectly with orange.

Orange Custard Pie

inspired by Edna Lewis’ Tyler pie, and this cocktail

1 8-or 9-inch one-crust pie shell, unbaked (your favorite or this one)

1/4 cup honey

1/2 cup unsalted butter

2 T coriander seeds

zest of one small orange

2 eggs

1/2 cup sugar

1/2 tsp flour

1/4 tsp salt

1 cup of whole milk or half and half

1 tsp orange liqueur such as Grand Marnier

Heat the honey, butter, coriander seeds, and orange zest on low heat until the butter melts and then for about 5 more minutes.  Turn off the heat and let sit.  Prepare the pie crust.  Beat the eggs, sugar, flour, and salt until very smooth.  Strain the honey butter mixture into the egg mixture.  Add the milk and liqueur and blend well.  Pour into the pie crust.  Sprinkle a few coriander seeds in the center.  Bake at 350 degrees for 40 minutes.  Allow to cool for 30 minutes before serving.  Garnish with orange slices.

 

Dinner Party

It is starting to warm up here. I had the AC unit in the living room window removed for some restoration of the old double hung panes, and haven’t put it back yet. It isn’t too hot to go without it, but I only mention this because it caused me to make a pot roast the morning of a dinner party. I highly recommend this, in part to keep your house cool in the afternoon, but mostly because you get to smell the pot roast all day long. Especially if it is Italian pot roast made with lots of red wine and porcini mushrooms.

I love a good dinner party, with guests that arrive at dusk on bikes with bells ringing through the screen door, toting bottles of Pinot Noir. And husband’s who do all the vacuuming beforehand while I get to cook my favorite special foods. Here was our luxe menu:

Pesto Brie Canapes

Curly Endive Salad (with warm bacon dressing)

Sauteed Maroon Carrots with Fresh Dill

Stracotto with Porcini Mushrooms (pot roast)

Spring Forward Strawberry Tart

Pesto Brie Canapes

Curly Endive (Chicory) Salad with Bacon Dressing

Maroon Carrots about to be cooked

Stracotto

Cooked onions, garlic, red wine, broth, porcini mushrooms about to made into a very rich sauce

Strawberry Tart

We made the Stracotto with a grass-fed rump roast instead of chuck, so it was much leaner, but still came out fork tender. Follow the link above– the recipe is so simple, and so much more flavorful than a typical American pot roast. I carved the meat after it rested, and puree the sauce. Then I put it in the fridge until about 30 minutes before dinner. I reheated it all together on very low heat on the stove, with the fresh rosemary.

Meanwhile I melted some butter and sautéed some beautiful Texas maroon carrots. I love how these carrots are sort of giant ugly dusty purple carrots with big hairy roots–

until you peel and slice them and they turn into works of art. Add the chopped fresh dill at the end with salt and pepper.

Here is a recipe for an hors d’oeuvre I learned to make by the hundreds during my stint as a catering cook. The technique we used is different from the recipe it is sourced from. Every time I have made this people come asking for the recipe, and offer to help assist making them as fast as possible. Sometimes the demand for these little appetizers has jeopardized the cooking of the main course. Can you see why?

careful-- the canapes burn easily

You can make the pesto in advance, but you have to broil or toast them in a toaster oven as you serve them. This is not a traditional pesto, but a chunky pine nut and sun-dried tomato spread that will stay in place on top of the brie.

sundried tomato pesto

The sharp tang of the garlic, herbs, and sun-dried tomatoes contrasts with the creamy buttery brie and crunch of the baguette, and sends your taste buds reeling with excitement. Highly addictive.

Pesto Brie Canapes

adapted from Food and Wine

1/2 cup pine nuts, chopped roughly

8 oil packed sun-dried tomatoes, finely chopped

2 small garlic cloves, minced

1/2 cup fresh grated parmesan

1/4 cup olive oil

1/3 cup minced flat leaf parsley

1 tablespoon minced fresh basil

1 pound ripe brie, at room temperature

1 good crusty baguette, sliced diagonally into 1/4 inch slices

It is best to chop everything by hand and then combine everything (except the brie and bread). I have done this recipe by combining it all in a food processor (only mincing the garlic by hand) and pulsing. It works, but it will be more fine of a mixture, and not as rustic. Once you have made the pesto, set it aside. Cream the brie and its rind in a bowl, either with a wooden spoon or electric mixer. You want to break up the bits of rind and blend it until it is very soft and easy to spread. Smear each piece of bread with brie, and then top it with a rounded teaspoon of the pesto– packing it down to stabilize it with the back of the spoon. Broil for 2 minutes until golden brown.

Queen of Hearts

When you make this, look over your shoulder for knaves, or anyone lurking, really. 

 

It is so good, I skipped dinner.  I know, that seems really indulgent.  But I had an extremely healthy pilaf for lunch (kale, carrots, kidney beans, bulgur, onions, veggie stock), and it turns out one serving of this tart has less sugar than a cup of plain yogurt.  And it was undoubtedly the best dessert I have ever made.  No kidding.  How can this be?  It is like the perfect storm that sometimes happens when I ponder what ingredients I have on hand, especially fresh ones that need to get eaten, and I start perusing recipes.  Instead of finding a recipe, I find this constellation of parts of recipes, and something comes together.

The best part of this dessert is the red ripe and perfectly sweet first-of-the-season organic strawberries, from just 40 miles south of San Antonio.  These were less expensive than any conventional berries shipped from South America, or even Mexico.  Not to mention, they do not taste like fiberglass.  But the other key ingredients were also from down the road– local goat cheese, local cabernet.

I used to make a classic fresh strawberry pie with cream cheese under the berries.  But I wanted something more dynamic.  So I swapped in some creamy chevre, mixed it with a little milk and cream, lemon zest and a dash of sugar.  I piled this into my favorite slightly sweet tart crust.  I topped it with the berries. 

Then, the stroke of genious, by way of Paris, where some very similar flavors had been combined in a custard.  A stolen red wine reduction syrup for the glaze– because sometimes painting the roses red just has to be done, and recipes must be stolen.  I cant wait to use this again, it is positively delectable.  There is something to be said for using sugar as a spice, instead of the main event.  There is just enough sweet to meld the intense flavors of the wine and cheese and berries.  All cradled in a buttery and flaky shell, with just a hint of sweet itself.

I was going to wait until morning to photohraph it for you, since the sun went down (yes, a whole hour later than last week, but it’s spring break, and no one is watching the clock around here).  Then I put it in my mouth, and I literally rushed to the computer to share this.  So, I will still add pics tomorrow, but for now, here is your recette.

Spring Forward Strawberry Tart

inspired by David Lebovitz and Betty Crocker

your favorte tart crust, or this one

1 pint ripe strawberries, washed, greens removed,

5 oz chevre or other mild soft creamy goat cheese (not crumbly or salty)

4 tablespoons cream

2 tablespoons milk

zest of one lemon

1 tablespoon sugar

For the Glaze:

1/2 cup red wine (I used Becker Vineyards Iconoclast, about $8)

3 tablespoons sugar

Bake the crust and allow it to cool.  I used a rectangular tart mold, but this will work in an 8 or 9 inch round pan. 

Slice the berries in half, so that they lay as flat as possible.  Smaller berries are pyramids, but the larger ones are like a bird beak– slice those along the ridge so that the two pieces are fairly slim.  Set them aside. 

Make the glaze by heating the wine and sugar in a sauce pan on medium heat.  You can leave it unattended, but not for too long.  After about 5-10 minutes, it will thicken rapidly.  Remove it before it becomes candy– when it is reduced by half.  While it is cooking, keep an eye on it and make the goat cheese mixture.

Blend the cheese, milk, cream, sugar and zest with a wooden spoon until it is thoroughly mixed, fluffy like whipped cream cheese.  Spread it carefully, with a fork or small spoon, into the cooled tart crust.  Lay the berries cut side down as close together as possible, layering the smaller ones over the spaces between the large ones.  Use a brush to make sure the glaze gets on every berry, then drizzle the rest where you see it needs it.

 (for those curious, if you divide this into 8 servings, each has about 8 grams of sugar)