Tag Archives: food

Cod and Leek Chowder

9 Jan

Last year, my son took up an interest in soup.  It was a sudden conversion, as previously, the mere mention of soup would instill a look of panic in my son’s eyes as he shook his head and whispered, “I don’t like it.”  Mention to him that he had not yet eaten soup before, ever, in his entire life, and the battle would come to a standstill.  In fact, my son would just leave the room at that point, leaving whoever was trying to foist soup upon him (most likely me) alone and slightly bewildered.

But then, for reasons that remain a mystery, my son requested that we make chicken soup.  Repeated queries followed, designed to make sure that what he thought was soup was, in fact, actually soup (he was four at the time, so one never knows), and then one day, armed with a chicken and a copy of Joy of Cooking, my husband and son made some chicken soup.  And then the doors opened, soup flowing every which way.  My son became obsessed with chicken soup.  When you asked him what he wanted for dinner, he would yell enthusiastically, “CHICKEN SOUP!”  When he got excited about something, he would inexplicably jump up and down and say, “Chicken soup!”  If he made his stuffed animals talk to one another, the conversion would go something like this, “Uh, do you like chicken soup?”  “Chicken soup!”  “Yay!  Chicken soup!”

So, yeah.  It got a little weird.  I don’t know if it was because of the Great Chicken Soup Situation of 2011, but after a few months of hearing about chicken soup all day every day, I sort of started to loathe soup.  Much like the well thought out entries on Lake Superior State University’s List of Words Banished from the Queen’s English for Misuse, Overuse, and General Uselessness the word soup had entered a place far out of my favor.

Leave it to the cold of winter, however, to give a person a change of heart.  Deeply entrenched in the soggy, dark months of the season, it soon became clear that soup was once again going to have to make an appearance on our table.  Steaming hot, slowly simmered, and studded with chunks of flaky fish and soft potatoes, this chowder was a welcome return to the world of soup.  It no doubt helped that I made this soup with cod, my son’s favorite fish, but after my son’s first few bites, he looked at me and said, mouth full of potato, “Mama, this is delicious.”  This is, I suppose, the difference between age four and age five.  Where four gives you a loud and manic parade that pops up without warning at every hour of the day, five gives you a mellow nod of recognition, like Farmer Hoggett praising Babe with perfectly toned affirmation.

Cod and Leek Chowder

I am not a big believer in adding copious amounts of cream and butter to all chowders.  Most of the time, I think the heaviness of the cream masks the taste of everything else in the soup, muddling what should be an otherwise nice experience.  This chowder, while plenty hearty, errs on the side of light when it comes to excessive fat.  Don’t stone me, but I don’t even use real bacon when I make it—I use turkey bacon, and it tastes wonderful, smoky, and delicious.

1 piece of bacon, finely chopped (pork or turkey are both fine)

3 tablespoons unsalted butter

2 large carrots, peeled and coarsely chopped

2 large celery sticks, peeled of any tough strings and coarsely chopped

1 large leek, green part removed and white part chopped in a ¼-inch dice

1 pound Yukon gold potatoes, scrubbed and chopped into ½-inch cubes

2 quarts water

1 bay leaf

salt and pepper

2 cups milk

¼ cup heavy cream

1 pound cod fillets, chopped into 1-inch chunks

In a large stock pot or soup pot, sauté the chopped bacon over medium low heat until it is crisp.  Remove from pot and reserve to the side.  Add the butter to the pot, and allow to melt.  Add carrots, celery, leek, and potato to melted butter, and stir to evenly coat all the vegetables.  Add the crisped bacon back into the pot and stir to combine.  Cover the pot, reduce heat to low, and simmer vegetables for 20 minutes, stirring frequently.

After 20 minutes, add water, bay leaf, and salt and pepper to taste.  Increase heat to medium high, bringing the mixture to a boil.  Stir the ingredients, reduce heat to low, then cover and simmer for 1 hour, stirring frequently.

After 1 hour, add milk and cream and stir to combine.  Add the fish and stir to combine. Over very low heat, making sure the mixture does not come to a boil, cook for an additional 10 minutes, until the fish has been gently cooked through.  Taste for seasoning, and add more salt and pepper as needed.

Hazelnut Orange Pesto

5 Jan

For fifteen years now, I have been subscribing to the New Yorker.  During that span of time, there have been maybe three instances—four, tops—in which I have not greeted the arrival of yet another issue of the magazine by plopping the new week’s issue upon a vast pile of previous weeks’ issues.  A very good friend of mine, who, at the time, was also a longtime subscriber to the New Yorker, and also, incidentally, unable to keep up with the barrage of unstoppable arrivals flooding his mailbox, once began to refer to every new issue of the New Yorker as “the dead rat,” due to its unassailable, somewhat onerous presence in his mailbox.  Plang!  The flap of the mailbox just slammed shut.  What’s new?  Oh, yes.  The dead rat has arrived.  Add it to the pile.

Other people I know who subscribe to the New Yorker are perfectly fine with the sight of piles of unread magazines littered about their home.  Perhaps it speaks of a more developed sense of ease on their part when it comes to matters of reading materials that those people can accumulate back issues of the New Yorker and never blink an eye.  I get more than three weeks behind and I start to develop cold sweats.  Maybe because of that fellow I read about who was something like a year and a half behind on the New York Times, a newspaper he read every single day, though not in its entirety every single day, which meant that when it took him a couple of days to make his way through a copy of the Times, he’d be a couple of days behind, well, the Times, when he finished.  Take too long to read the paper over a long enough period of time and, look, there you are, reading an issue of the New York Times from 2007 as you ride the subway to work in 2009.  Sometimes it feels like a slippery slope between getting a couple of weeks behind on the New Yorker and becoming that man and his archive of New York Times reading matter, perpetually living in the past just so he can leisurely work his way towards the future.  (Also, it bears mentioning that the story about the man and the New York Times?  Yeah, I read about it in the New Yorker.)

The main culprit in my chronic struggle to maintain a current reading schedule with the New Yorker is the fact that I insist on reading every single thing in the magazine, cover to cover.  I read the listings for what bands are playing at what clubs, what new building by what new architect is currently being built to house what new condo complex, and what new restaurants are opening.  You may think I am insane to take on such a seemingly worthless endeavor, but let me tell you something.  Had I not insisted on reading a review of a new restaurant that opened up in the West Village, I would have never read about that restaurant’s offering of a small, delicious plate of crusty bread topped with hazelnut orange pesto.  Not helping my reading situation at all, as soon as I read about the combination, I put down my magazine to make it.

Not surprisingly, the pairing of the two elements is absolutely fantastic.  The robust flavor of the toasted hazelnuts gets a nice brightness from the orange zest, and when whirled together with a generous glug of olive oil and a large handful of Italian parsley, the pesto comes together as a well-rounded, satisfying sauce for pasta, topping for crostini, or even a nice embellishment to a pile of sautéed greens rested upon a bed of thick, belly-warming polenta.  I savored each bite of this warm, filling meal, and I am not the least bit ashamed to admit that while eating it, I cracked open an old back issue of the Atlantic.  From September 2010.  Don’t worry.  I’ve let that subscription lapse.

Hazelnut Orange Pesto

If you are going to make this pesto as a sauce for pasta, reserve about ½ a cup of the pasta’s cooking water to add into the pesto when you toss it with the pasta.  This will help the pesto loosen up a bit and maintain more of a sauce-like consistency.

1 cup hazelnuts

1 cup loosely packed Italian parsley leaves

1 large clove of peeled garlic

2 tablespoons grated orange zest

¼ cup grated Parmesan cheese

¼-1/3 cup olive oil

salt and pepper

Preheat oven to 350 degrees Fahrenheit.  Place hazelnuts on a baking sheet, and toast for 15 minutes, until the nuts are golden brown and the skins are beginning to peel free.  Remove the toasted nuts to a clean dishtowel.  Fold the dishtowel over the hazelnuts, and vigorously rub the towel around to slough the skins off of the nuts.  If you don’t remove all of the skins, don’t worry.  You just want to remove enough of the skins to ensure that your nuts won’t taste too bitter.

In the bowl of a food processor, combine the nuts, parsley, garlic, orange zest, Parmesan cheese, and ¼ cup of olive oil.  Pulse the mixture for about 20 seconds, until the ingredients are chopped and the nuts still have a good amount of texture (if you process the mixture too long, the hazelnuts run the risk of turning into a paste).  If the mixture looks a bit too sturdy, add in the remaining olive oil, one tablespoon at a time, pulsing briefly after each addition until the pesto reaches your desired consistency.  Add salt and pepper to taste.

Use as a topping for crostini, a sauce for pasta, a dressing for greens, etc.  I’ll bet this would taste great dolloped on top of a nice firm piece of white fish.

Recipe Roundup

2 Jan

I am still happily writing for both Indie Fixx and Portland Farmers Market.  Here is a roundup of my newest articles and recipes (just click on the name of a recipe to be taken directly to it).

Turnovers in Phyllo

Pear and Pecan Bread

Popovers with Braised Leeks

Portland Farmers Market will be in hibernation for the next few weeks, but they will emerge soon after with a brand new winter market.  This was my last post from their regular market season, and I definitely closed out the year with a bang (hello, cheese and heavy cream).

Root Vegetable Gratin

Also, last year I made this cake, but then I never told you about it.  Maybe I should do that, because it was really freakin’ good.