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http://chocolateandzucchini.com/archives/2005/09/galettes_de_riz_print.php

Galettes de Riz

[Rice Cakes]

“Waste not, want not”, saith popular wisdom. I do hate having to throw out good ingredients or tasty leftovers. I generally strive to make the most of my supplies, and in fact it’s an excellent exercise for your creative muscles to try and find ways to do so. But I have to admit it’s a constant battle between this thrifty side of me and the other one, who rolls her eyes and moans, “We’ve eaten that twice already, can we please move on to something else?”

So I could have thrown out the leftover basmati rice that we had in the fridge, but decided instead to make little rice cakes, mixing the rice with an egg and what vegetables I had on hand, and cooking the patties in the skillet. The resulting galettes were a very pleasant mix of crunchy and tender, with the lovely aroma of basmati rice enjoying the fresh company of spring onions and diced tomato, the whole thing being spiked up by a sprinkle of red pepper flakes — piment d’Espelette, to be specific.

They are very easy to make and assemble, the only step requiring a bit of skill is the flipping of patties in the skillet: be gentle but quick, and don’t flip them too soon or they’ll fall apart — which has no consequence on taste, just presentation. Naturally the recipe below is just a suggestion, you should go ahead and use whichever vegetables (raw or cooked) you have on hand, and maybe throw in a bit of ham or diced tofu in the mix.

Galettes de Riz

- 1 1/2 cups cooked rice
- 1 egg, lightly beaten
- 2 spring onions, chopped
- 1 tomato, juice and seeds removed, diced
- one clove garlic, chopped thinly
- salt, pepper
- red pepper flakes (optional)
- fresh cilantro

Serves 2.

In a medium mixing-bowl, combine the rice, egg, spring onions, tomato, and garlic; stir until well combined. Season generously with salt, pepper, and red pepper flakes if using. Cover and refrigerate for 15 minutes.

Heat some olive oil in a large skillet over medium-high heat. Remove the rice mixture from the fridge. Use two tablespoons to form patties (about 3 inches in diameter) with the mixture, and transfer them into the skillet. Cook for five to eight minutes on one side, or until browned, then flip carefully with a spatula and cook for another five minutes on the other side.

Serve immediately with fresh cilantro.

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All writing and photography on Chocolate & Zucchini is Copyright Clotilde Dusoulier © 2003-2009 unless indicated otherwise. All rights reserved.

http://chocolateandzucchini.com/archives/2003/10/swiss_chard_pie_print.php

Swiss Chard Pie

Spinach is one of the rare vegetables I will not eat. Possibly, this has to do with the green puke they were trying to pass off as spinach at summer camp. I did try real supposedly yummy fresh spinach, but could not take it. Bleh. The only form I can eat it in, is when it doesn’t taste like spinach at all, in spinach ravioli for instance.

Now, people tell me swiss chard tastes very much like spinach, so my taste buds must be a bit weird, as I seem to love swiss chard about as much as I loathe its cousin. I had been craving swiss chard pie all summer, so last week-end, when I saw big bunches of it at the produce store, I got one. It was so huge I had to cut it in two so it would fit in the fridge. But that was very easily done with my new extra-sharp chef knife. Heh.

As much as I am particular about home-made pie dough for desserts, I always use store-bought flaky (pâte feuilletée) or regular dough (pâte brisée) for the savory pies and tarts I make. Grocery stores in France carry perfectly acceptable ones. This time I had gotten thin pizza dough (less fat apparently), to see how it would turn out.

Premade pie dough is sold rolled out onto parchment paper then rolled up into a cylinder, making it easy as pie (haha) to just unroll it onto your pie dish, saving you the laying out of parchment paper in the bargain. But as I unrolled this pizza dough, I realized it was really very small in diameter. I needed it to be quite larger than my dish to have extra dough to fold over the filling, so I tried to massage it to the desired size by pulling at the edges with my hands. But I must not have done this gently enough (or just bad karma?), because the dough ripped and was just a mess. I thought what-the-heck-I’ll-just-start-over, turned it into a ball and tried to roll it out using a rolling pin. When that obviously didn’t work - the dough being way too elastic - I just dumped it in the trash (I should have saved it and used it for something else but didn’t, as a measure of punishment), ran to the store, luckily just a block away, got another one, skipped the line thanks to a nice customer who saw I only had one item, and hurried home. This time I handled the dough with way more care, and laid it out in a deep pie pan, with “flaps” of dough hanging outside.

I then prepared the swiss chard. I washed it, then separated the leaves from the stems. In a large pot, I heated up olive oil and two cloves of crushed garlic - very flavorful pink garlic from Lautrec (our friend Ludo - a cooking enthusiast as well - brought us back a 1kg bunch from a recent trip). When the oil was nice and hot, I added the cut-up stems, salt and pepper, and sauteed them for a few minutes. I then added the leaves, torn in smaller pieces, and left all that to cook over medium heat, for a few more minutes.

Meanwhile, I made a cup of tea and let a handful of raisins soak in it, toasted a handful of pinenuts in a dry skillet and put the oven on to preheat at 220°C.

When the chard was ready, I drained it in a colander, then put it in a medium bowl, adding in half a cup of ricotta, the drained raisins and the pine nuts. This was poured into the prepared pie pan, and the edges of the dough were folded back to cover some of the filling. Ideally, the crust should be brushed with a beaten egg yolk or melted butter, but I skipped this part.

I put the pie in to bake for about 35 minutes, until the crust was nice and golden. At that point I realized that the filling was still a bit too wet. I should have drained the chard more thoroughly. But it seemed ready otherwise, so I took it out and sort of mopped the extra liquid with a paper towel, then left it on the counter for a few minutes before serving.

I like this recipe very much. The sweetness of the raisins and ricotta balanced the otherwise sharp taste of the chard, and the pinenuts offered a nice textural change. The amount of filling made for a very satisfyingly thick pie, and the pizza dough was nice and crunchy, but thin enough not to occupy the center of the stage. Leftovers reheated very well in the oven the next day...

http://chocolateandzucchini.com/archives/2004/12/mijote_dagneau_aux_kumquats_et_aux_pignons_petit_gateau_de_polenta_print.php

Mijoté d’Agneau aux Kumquats et aux Pignons, Petit Gâteau de Polenta

[Kumquat and Pinenut Lamb Stew, Little Polenta Cake]

Last week, I had my parents and my sister over for dinner. It had occurred to me that the four of us met most often at my parents’, and that it was high time I return the invitation, lest they start to wonder why they couldn’t benefit from at least some of the good manners it had taken them years to inculcate in me.

Just a few days before that dinner, I was right in the middle of that exciting time period when I dedicate a whole section of my brain to toy with dish ideas and assemble ingredients. At that point, I knew I was in the mood to cook lamb (maybe skewers?) and that I wanted to make something polenta (maybe little cakes?), but I was still looking for the right idea to pull them together.

And then, as I was reading the November issue of the New York Times Style Magazine, which a very kind reader had sent me, a recipe jumped out of the page and right at me. The recipe was for a candied kumquat and pinenut octopus salad (yes, it was a little scary and no, no stain on the pretty shirt I was wearing, thanks for asking).

“Candied kumquats? But I have candied kumquats!”. I had bought them a few months ago in a little spice store, thinking “Wow, candied kumquats!”, but I had never gotten around to eating them or using them in anything. I pulled those little guys out from the back of the kitchen cabinet, and they did seem a little upset and bitter from the exile — but then bitterness is a desired quality in kumquats, no?

The kumquat-pinenut pairing idea evolved into this lamb stew, in which the meat is slowly simmered in an orange juice and olive oil sauce, flavored with kumquats, onions and garlic, as well as thyme — lamb’s best herby friend. The pinenuts, toasted, make their appearance at plating time, in a grand sprinkling finale.

We loved it, and I was especially happy with the result given my very limited experience with stews. The meat turned out moist and tender, beautifully complemented by the flavorful chunky sauce and its part sweet, part bitter accents. My dear little polenta cakes marched onto the scene in a proud procession, their crispy crust revealing the softness of their warm and mellow hearts, and an excellent bottle of Pomerol 1999 brought by my father rounded out the meal.

[Update: my candied kumquats were purchased at Maison Joseph, a small graineterie at 63 rue des Abbesses in the 18th, 01 46 06 33 78.]

[2006 Update: to my great sadness, the graineterie is now closed, replaced by a .]

Mijoté d’Agneau aux Kumquats et aux Pignons

- 1kg lamb shoulder, cut in about 8 pieces
- 2 onions, thinly sliced
- the juice of 4 oranges
- 4 Tbsp olive oil
- 16 candied kumquats
- 2 cloves of garlic, peeled and chopped
- 2 tsp dried thyme
- 1/3 C pinenuts, toasted in a dry skillet
- salt, pepper

(Serves 4.)

Soak the candied kumquats in a cup of light tea for about 20 minutes. Drain and dice them.

In a medium mixing bowl, whisk together the orange juice, 3 tablespoons of olive oil, the kumquats, the garlic and the thyme. Set aside.

Heat a tablespoon of olive oil in a thick-bottomed saucepan (a cast-iron dutch oven is ideal). When the oil is hot, add in the pieces of meat, sprinkle with salt and pepper, and let brown for three to four minutes on each side, over high heat. Remove the meat and set aside on a plate. Transfer the onion slices into the pan, and cook them over high heat, stirring regularly, until softened.

Return the meat into the pan, and pour in the orange juice mixture. Turn down the heat to medium, cover and simmer for an hour. Check the amount of liquid from time to time, and add a little boiling water if you find the sauce has reduced too much.

Divide the meat between four plates, top with the sauce, sprinkle with pinenuts, and serve with little polenta cakes.

Petits Gâteaux de Polenta

- 300 g polenta (old-fashioned or instant)
- salt, pepper

(Serves 4.)

Cook polenta according to package directions (mine needs to be cooked for one hour in 0.9 liters of salted boiling water for 300 g of polenta). Season the cooked polenta with salt and pepper, and pour into a 20-cm (9-inch) nonstick cake pan, smooth out the surface with a spatula, and let cool. (Recipe can be made ahead up to this point.)

When the polenta has cooled, use a cookie cutter or a metal pastry circle to cut out little cakes. Preheat the oven to 200°C (400°F). Transfer the polenta cakes onto a cookie sheet lined with parchment paper. Bake for 12 minutes, then flip the cakes and bake for another 10 minutes, until golden and crispy. Serve immediately.

(The unused pieces of polenta can be cut in cubes, optionally sauteed, and simply added to a stew, a stir-fry or a soup.)