Asparagus Parmesan Sformato and a Bonus

I have been yearning. And I don't know for what. I wake up with a longing. It's not a bad of state of being. But it does turn you into a slightly boring person - this longing. Because you spend a lot of time turned inward. And you lose track of conversations. And it's obvious. You're caught not listening. I want the "yearning" to come out and assert itself and so I have been doing things I have been meaning to do forever - hoping these activities would coax out the little-stubborn-yearning.

I planned on making these little asparagus puddings when they were actually in season - last April. Some things take me a long time to do. Even pleasant things. I am an equal-opportunity procrastinator. I later planned on doing these over the holidays. And then I was sure these would come to the table in January. And now I am kicking myself that I hadn't made them earlier and monthly.

I have a fondness for the sformato - the transformation of cheeses and vegetables into velvet. Something dense but in a believable disguise as a light offering. (Even though the 6 eggs belie that notion.) I do try to eat seasonally and locally - but in Minnesota - you could come down with scurvy if you didn't move outside your northland circle.

Perhaps it is because I have looked at this long enough.

We are at the point in winter where the driveway has lost a lot of weight and become quite narrow. Where the December sighs of "Such a pretty snowfall - it looks like a Christmas Card!" have turned into "Oh Goody (or expletive), "It's snowing." (using the sarcastic font).

I have spent my eves with Stephen King going back in time. And while the book helped me get through a fifth arctic blast - it just intensified the yearning.

Perhaps I was tired of the recipe on the fridge nagging me every time I opened the fridge door. Perhaps it was the lure of $2.99/pound asparagus that did not look exhausted. I finally made them. And I will make them again - with broccoli, with spinach, with Swiss chard and with locally grown, seasonal asparagus. In April. Or May. And you should also.

Ingredients - 8 Servings
1/2 cup fresh breadcrumbs from crustless Italian bread
2 pound asparagus, trimmed
2 tablespoons butter
1 medium onion, finely chopped
1 cup freshly-grated Parmesan cheese
1/2 cup whole milk ricotta
1/4 cup all-purpose flour
4 eggs

1. Preheat oven to 350 degrees F. Butter 8 3/4-1 cup ramekins. Coat the bottom with breadcrumbs.
2. Cut off asparagus tips. Cook for 3 minutes in boiling salted water. Drain, reserving 1 cup cooking liquid. Put tips aside.
3. Coarsely chop asparagus stalks. Melt butter in large skillet over medium heat. Add onion. Saute onion about 6 minutes. Add stalks and saute 5 minutes. Add reserved asparagus cooking liquid. Cover and simmer for 12 minutes. Uncover and cook until liquid is absorbed, stirring often - about 5 minutes.
4. Transfer to food processor and puree.
5. Add Parmesan, ricotta and flour and process until just blended. Salt and pepper a bit.
6. In a large bowl, whisk eggs. Add the asparagus puree and whisk to blend. Stir in all but 8 of the asparagus tips.
7. Pour into ramekins - filling the ramekins about 3/4 of the way.
(Can be made ahead. Cover and chill.)
8. Put ramekins in water bath. (Put in roaster and large baking tray. Pour boiling water around ramekins - filling the pan about 1 inch with water.)
9. Bake "puddings" until set - about 35 minutes. Let stand ten minutes. Invert onto plates and garnish with reserved asparagus tips.

Look at it. Long for it.

It bends to the will of the seasons. It's flecked. It's cheese - baked and just a little browned. It's asparagus - coaxed  into a soft winter coat. Not intense - just soothing. Sort of cloudy. Sort of earthy. Sort of reassuring.

And it's good. Really good.

So is this.

Marinated Goat Cheese with Warmed Olives

The thing is - you probably have all in your kitchen: olive oil, a fresh herb, olives, goat cheese, a lemon.

And that's it. Use a goat cheese medallions or a log or two. Heat a bit of olive oil (about 1/4 of a cup) with the zest of a lemon and some fresh herbs (I used thyme - but use what suits your fancy). Add some olives - your choice - and some freshly-ground pepper. When nice and warm (not boiling), pour all over the goat cheese and serve.

I made this ahead of time on Valentine's Day and this lovely man that I am married to - who sent me flowers - who had an actual card waiting for me on Valentine's Day morning - didn't get any. Yeah. Well... I had my fill.

So I will need to make it again. But not ahead of time.

Meanwhile, my daughter has accused me of whoring out the cats to get comments on the blog.

Heavens-to-Betsy - why would I do that?

Braised Artichokes for Small Bites Sunday

Who first decided that artichokes would be a good thing to eat? Who looked at the prickly-thistled plant and determined, "Must have that for dinner!" I had this discussion with my cousin in New York (which segued into "How did beer happen" and "the whys and wonders of having dogs and cats instead of grandchildren") as well as a myriad of topics that cousins discuss when they haven't seen each other for years.

I would have liked to have been there - at the first artichoke feast. (I'd also like to be at the first production of Hamlet where nobody know that everyone dies at the end. Sorry if I spoiled the ending for you.)  The first artichoke feast must have happened early. By the time of the Romans, artichokes were cultivated and widely eaten. I suspect we have hunger pangs and the early foragers to thanks for the glories of this thistle.

This is so simple. Braised in water, wine and lemon, they become succulently soft and tender in 30 minutes. The stems (with the outer layer peeled) are edible. My kids watched me prep them and thought they were a lot of work to "get to the good stuff." But in just minutes while chatting with the family, the outer leaves of 2 were peeled, the tips were cut off and the artichoke was slashed in half to get rid of the choke. And I might add - the kids were very happy participants in the eating of the thistle.

If you're new to artichokes, Ciao Chow Linda has a primer on "How to Trim an Artichoke." Find it here.

The Ardent Epicure has a post on all-things-artichoke. Find it here.

Braised Artichokes (from Saveur and Edythe Grace Gresio Schmidt aka "Mom")- serves 4*
1/4 cup olive oil
2 cloves garlic
1/4 cup dry white wine
2 large artichokes (outer leaves peeled, trimmed and halved lengthwise, choke removed)
2 lemons, halved and juiced
salt to taste (just a little)
2 tablespoons unsalted butter - sliced thin (use Earth Balance to keep it vegan)
Fresh ground pepper to serve

*If you're Italian or used to artichokes, you're likely nodding your head because you know this recipe. It's the easiest of artichoke recipes. You're thinking of your own recipe - stuffed artichokes, fried, broiled, grilled. But if artichokes ever intimidated you - start with this easy recipe. Success breeds later success.

Braised Artichoke Preparation:
In a large stockpot, heat oil over medium heat. Add garlic. Saute till almost browned. (1-2 minutes) Add wine, artichokes, lemon juice, lemon halves, salt and about 8-10 cups of water (really just enough to cover the artichokes). Bring to boil, then reduce heat to medium low and gently boil for 30 minutes. Transfer artichokes to platter and keep warm. Discard all but 2 cups of braising liquid. Return pan with liquid to medium high heat. Add butter. Cook until thickened (about 15 minutes). Mine did not thicken much! Season to taste with salt and pepper and spoon sauce over artichokes. Serve.

It's just a wonderful slurpy mess. I am sure there is a correlation between messy food and laughter at the table. I'm surprised nobody has done a study about that. You're eating a thistle covered in liquid. Messy, earthy, sensual - what's not to like? (And I could continue to sing the merits of cracking crab legs at the table - but I'll spare you.)

It has been written that Zeus came to earth (as he frequently did) and spied a young beauty (as he often did) and seduced her (as he always did). With her consent, he brought her back to Mount Olympus (unbeknownst to Hera). But the young girl was homesick and sneaked back to earth to visit her mom. Zeus was enraged and hurled her back to earth where she became planted and grew - as an artichoke! I suppose there are worse things.

We never knew when an artichoke would appear in the home. I suspect because my mother never "planned" them. They came home when they were looking good to her at the market. She would simply cut the pricklies off the top of the leaves and simmer them whole in water, wine. lemon and herbs. Then serve them cold with dipping sauces. For the tough leaves - we would scrape off the tender inner portion with our teeth. We'd work our way down to the choke. Each leaf unearthed a more tender one - and as a child - this was heaven. It was partly a game - to avoid pricklies and partly an education in deliciousness.

I know it's just a tad early for Small Bites Sunday but then I realized - I can do this - it's my blog! Have a grand week, all!

You might also like: Artichoke Gratin 

Small Bites Sunday

This winter I resurrected "Small Bites Sunday." With my son living "in the Cities" and busy with graduate school and work, I made a promise to him that I would continue to make a "proper Sunday dinner" and there would always be enough for him. No reservations required.  With the men in my life training again for the MS 150, I like to have "small bites" available to the returning cyclists.

I love small bites! There is the time for the complete symphony, the never-ending book and there are times for the short story and for a Bach concerto. (Or a Fats Waller song.)

Yes, the open-faced sandwich is in fact a grilled cheese. My husband's reward for accomplishing the first lawn mowing of the season! Apparently April is grilled cheese month. But that's not why I made it. I made it because it has melted cheese. If you say "cheese," melt cheese or put pistachios into your dish, there is a chance that I will open up my umbrella and fly in through your kitchen window.

Besides, this recipe is adapted from Sophia Loren - she seems to have an understanding of Italian food. It uses asparagus and this is the time to use it. Sophia puts this on any bread, minces her ham and only uses the tip of the asparagus. I left the ham whole and used the entire asparagus stalk. Adapt, play but know this makes a welcoming snack or light lunch - have it for breakfast! Add an egg. Take away the ham and make it vegetarian. But do keep the asparagus and do melt the cheese.

Asparagus-Cheese Melt (for 1, easily doubled and tripled and quadrupled...)
1 slice favorite bread
2 asparagus spears
1 slice favorite ham (prosciutto, anyone?)
fontina cheese
Optional to finish: freshly-ground pepper, fresh Parmesan, arugula

Lightly toast your bread. Simmer the asparagus in salted water for 3-4 minutes. Cut into 2 inch slices. Place ham slice on bread. Lay asparagus stalks on top of the ham. With a vegetable peeler, peel of thin slices of fontina cheese. But on baking sheet. Bake at 350 degrees F until cheese is melted - about 5 minutes. Sprinkle pepper and Parmesan over if you wish. Serve.

Below is another recipe for April - featuring asparagus. You can serve it hot, warm or at room temperature. You roast the asparagus first - and try not to eat them before you use them. 

Roasted Asparagus with Prosciutto (serves 4) - adapted from Giada de Laurentiis

16 asparagus spears - thick bottom chopped off or peel thick part of stalk

small amount of olive oil

8 slices of thin prosciutto

Optional: freshly ground pepper and Parmesan to finish

Brush the asparagus with olive oil. Salt and pepper if you wish. (The prosciutto adds enough salt for me.) In a 350 degree F oven, roast the asparagus on a baking sheet for 5-6 minutes - until almost tender. Remove from oven. With scissors or a knife, cut your prosciutto slices in half length-wise. Wrap the prosciutto slice around the asparagus. Giada now serves this at room temperature. I pop it back into the oven to let the prosciutto crisp up a bit (3-4 minutes), drain it on paper towels and then serve it with ground pepper and some Parmesan.

I have a southern friend who tells me she has never met a vegetable that she couldn't make unhealthy with her down home Texas cooking. I think of that when I take the innocent asparagus and then cover it with ham. Of course Italians are famous for Eggplant Parmigiano and you know what we do to the health quotient of the eggplant in that dish! But remember - these are small bites! If you need an indulgence, small bites will deliver.

I am going to pause here for a moment and let you know that I have a most excellent husband.

As I read that Bon Appetit noted the ten best places to get the perfect baguette in America, I saw that one was in Minneapolis. And  my husband's wonderful reply was:

"When do you want to go?"

That's love.

So along with our small bites this weekend, we also were treated to a crusty loaf of bread from Rustica Bakery in Minneapolis (and if you're in town - go, bike, skate or fly, and get there in the morning and feast - it delivers - the right amount of chew but not tough. hearty but not filling and brings you to an understanding of why bread is the staff of life). And just because - I bought a mini-focaccia - because that fit the theme of "small bites." It was diminutive. It was cute. And I really wanted it.

I will be doing Small Bites Sunday for awhile. If you have a "small bite" you'd like to share, send it over with a photo and a link to your posting by Saturday at 5 p.m. Nothing fancy - no badges - just for fun.

Today is Earth Day and even in Minnesota which is often the frozen tundra and icebox of the nation, the earth kept her promise. In return, I have some promises to keep for her. Hope you had a lovely Sunday, a small bite here and there and had time to appreciate our planet.