Good Luck Lentils

It’s the New Year. I was thinking all about how well it was going. There were lots of happy, uplifting stories like this and this and this. I was smiling.

Then this happened, which infuriated me in the it is easier to buy a gun and ammunition than it is to buy beer kind of way. Later on, I watched this and I thought the world is really, seriously going to hell in a hand basket and what happened to Happy New Year and all that.

It is a few days, alright nine or so, past New Year’s Day but I turned the clock back at our house and we are going to eat lentils, lots of them.

Italians eat lentils on New Year’s day and in the new year. They eat them in hopes of money and good fortune. And let’s face it, the money sure would be nice but the good fortune part? It’s essential.

Good Luck Lentils with Fennel and Chard

1 large onion, finely chopped

5 large cloves garlic minced

Fennel - I had five sweet little bulbs - you should have about 1 cup chopped stalks and 1 cup julienned bulbs

1 cup diced carrots

1 bunch chard chopped

1 cup lentils- I used De Puy but you can use brown or green. I wouldn't use red though. I was going to use black beluga lentils which are awfully pretty but not always to hand.

3 tablespoons olive oil

3 cups stock (chicken or vegetable)

1 cup halved cherry or grape tomatoes (or diced tomato)

Few sprigs fresh thyme

Salt and fresh ground black pepper

Parmeggiano-reggiano shaved

In a large pot, sauté the onions, garlic, carrots and chopped fennel stocks with the olive oil until the onions are translucent. Stir in the lentils and the thyme.

Add the stock and bring to a boil. Reduce heat and simmer, uncovered, for about 20 minutes, until the lentils are almost tender.

Add the chard and the julienned fennel bulb. Cover and simmer for five minutes. Add the tomato and simmer for another three minutes. Season with salt and pepper.

Serve in bowls with a little drizzle of nice olive oil, some fennel fronds and some shaved parmeggiano. A nice chunk of crusty bread goes well here too.

Happy New Year - again!

Pre-Resolution Pennies

A few days ago, I found myself channeling my inner 1950’s housewife, the one with the perfectly starched, immaculately clean apron and not a hair out of place. Not the one I more closely resemble, with no apron and floury wet handprints on my butt - the result of a misplaced towel, and hair that resembles that Hallowe’en wig in the bottom of your dress up trunk but with the added dimension of whatever your child ate for breakfast smeared on one side and toothpaste in the ends of the other. It’s a glamorous job I do.

I was tidying up the cheese drawer, trying to make some space for all the cheese we need to have for Christmas. There was a chunk of prematurely purchased Christmas stilton that needed using up and, maybe it is because I have been trying to be so good and not eat such things lately, the thought of the best way to make cheese more fattening came to mind. I needed to make cheese pennies. You know, the ones you have eaten at least a dozen of before you can say, ‘A moment on the lips...‘. 

Ours would be stilton cheese pennies and we would throw some nuts in and then they would be very delicious with some port, the port you need to have because it is Christmas. You know, to go with all the cheese.

It’s not a new idea. It has been done way more than once, usually called Stilton Shortbread or Stilton and Walnut Cheese Dubloons or something else to make them sound all fancy. And, even though they are but humble cheese pennies, I can see why people try to give them this exalted status with flowery names. They certainly didn’t make it to Christmas Day here.

I managed to save enough to include in our Christmas goodie bags we were making for some friends but the daughters ran off into a corner with a handful nicked off the cooling rack. Stephen then discovered the container I had carefully hidden them in after a bike ride home but before supper. It took all three of us to tear them out of his hands which ended in hysterics because the girls thought they were rescuing the pennies for their own consumption. 

I didn’t use any dry mustard or cayenne which the cheddar variety like. I did use a healthy dose of fresh ground black pepper which when baked just added a toasty little kick. The pecans add a really great crunch to the pennies.

These are really good to make in advance. You can leave the dough in the fridge and just slice and bake before you need them. They also keep very well in an airtight container at room temperature after baking.

You really need these. Maybe as a foil to your New Year’s Eve tipple. I encourage you to enjoy them soon, before all your resolutions kick in and you can’t.

Stilton and Pecan Pennies

1 generous cup crumbled stilton

1/2 cup butter (if you use salted, don’t add salt, if you use unsalted, add the salt)

2 cups all purpose flour

1/2 cup chopped pecans

1/4 teaspoon salt

Fresh ground black pepper to taste

Mix all the ingredients together and add cold water by the tablespoonful until the dough just holds together (I used 2 tablespoons).

Divide the dough in two. Roll each half into a log about 1-inch in diameter and wrap in clingfilm. Chill for at least a couple of hours.  

Preheat oven to 400ºF.

Slice in 1/4-inch rounds and arrange on a parchment lined baking sheet. Bake for about 12 minutes or until they are golden on the bottoms and edges.

Cool and try not to eat all at once.

That Can Goes Where?

As you may or may not know, I spent about twelve years spending very little time in North America. So, I don’t know if I missed the Beer Can Chicken fad or whether it is something saved for tailgate parties or frat parties or other stereotypically ‘male-bonding’ type events. I know that ever since the first time I heard of it, I have been curious and it was, sooner or later, going to make its way to our barbecue (or the barbecue of the vacation apartment complex).

Stephen was not nearly as excited as I expected he would be. He was curious about impaling a chicken on a beer can and wondered whether the beer would be wasted or whether he could drink it afterwards. He tried and doesn’t recommend it but has decided the beer wasn’t entirely wasted and that the chicken was very delicious, crispy skinned and moist.

He, of course, deserves all the credit as he put the chickens on the barbecue and he stood nearby during the cooking process. And, to be fair, he and Matt, his trusty deckhand, did rescue one of the birds from sure incineration with their bare hands. This was before we, Janine, Stephen’s trusty chef, and I, decided it was probably going to be necessary to line the grill with some foil lest we waste more beer in dousing the flames.

This all felt very Friday Night Lights, football party-esque. The local varsity team was playing at home and the town was a flutter of excitement and spirit. In the midst of all that energy, a big barbecue just seemed like a good thing.

There are about a gazillion recipes online for this and I read about half of them. I think this grew from what seemed like the best/most commonly used/most practical of them all. 

The rub was really simple and I didn’t measure any of it exactly. I used a mixture of grainy mustard, black pepper, salt, dried coriander, fresh thyme and oregano and a little bit of olive oil. I smeared it all over the two chickens, inside and out and left them to marinade for about six hours in the fridge.

The next hardest part was emptying the two beer cans to half full. Luckily, Stephen and Matt got back from cycling home from work and set about the onerous task. I didn’t get fancy for this first attempt and used Heineken. I think that this is where Beer Can Chicken could get a bit more exciting but more about that later.

That accomplished, everyone crowded around while I made Stephen stick the half empty beer cans in the chickens' rear ends. He was actually very surprised by how easily the cans fit. 

I had preheated the barbecue and decided that keeping it cooking at chicken roasting temperature, 325ºF, seemed like a pretty sensible thing to do. That is easier said than done but, aside from a couple, ‘Is that chicken on fire again?,’ moments, it stayed spot on.

I thought it would be trickier to remove a chicken sitting atop a bubbling and steaming can of beer from the barbecue but with something as simple as a metal spatula and a carving fork it was a breeze. I would recommend having a place to go and a clear route there before getting on your way.

I carved these around the can, removing the can when it was easily accessible instead or trying to wrestle it and its boiling contents out of the chicken’s sizzling hot bottom. This worked better than I expected and the can can (it was going to happen sooner or later) easily be removed with a dry towel.

I used very simple flavours with this but I can’t help but thinking how fun it could be. You could do a Japanese inspired marinade and use Sapporo or a citrusy marinade and use Hoegarden or any of your favourite microbrews and something that would go really nicely. Just empty out any beer can and half fill it with whatever beer you fancy.

I will warn you that the chicken did not taste of beer but it was definitely a whole heck of a lot more moist than any barbecued chicken I have ever had and you could smell it and that, I think, definitely has its influence.

Beer Can Chicken

1 - 4 1/2 pound chicken

Grainy mustard

Black pepper

Salt

Dried coriander

Fresh thyme

Fresh oregano 

Olive oil

(Or the marinade or rub of your choice)

1 can of beer half full

Mix some mustard, pepper, salt, coriander, thyme and oregano with a couple tablespoons of olive oil and rub all over, inside and out, your chicken. Let the chicken marinade in the fridge for 4-6 hours.

Preheat the barbecue to about 325ºF, if you have a thermometer, or about medium heat.

Slide the can of beer into your chicken’s behind.

Line the grill with some foil and turn the edges of the foil up to trap the juices and prevent flare ups.

Carefully your chicken on the beer can onto the barbecue.

Close the lid and cook, checking occasionally but not too often, for about one and a half hours, or until the juices from the thickest part of the leg are running clear.

Remove from the grill with metal spatula under the can and a carving fork to steady the bird onto a carving plate or, in our case, roasting tin.

Carefully carve the chicken, upright, and remove the can with a dry towel when you can.  The beer is HOT!

Enjoy.

Retro Inspirations - Tell me Yours

Today's post is from a while ago. I had fully intended to cook something amazing, take photos of the process and write about it tonight. My attempt was foiled before it even started. My thumb was attacked by my, now not as loved, knife block and a 10" chef's knife that wasn't quite buried deep enough in the block's protective bristles.

***

I have memories of tea parties with egg salad or cucumber sandwiches with the crusts cut off. Hot tea in the winter, and more likely egg, iced tea in the summer, with cucumber, always on white bread. What ever happened to those little nibbles, besides the fact that everyone went and got all fancy? 

The little sandwiches used to pop up all over the place, well usually anywhere there was a group of women socializing anyway. They were the fodder of frolickers at garden parties and baby showers and church socials. And, maybe they still are because I just don’t have the opportunity to attend these events at the side of my grandmother anymore. So, maybe I just don’t know.

We, the daughters and I, found ourselves at a casual little tea party a little while ago at Hawthorn Cottage. And, I was so pleased to see a tray of the little beauties that Jennifer had prepared that I almost hugged her. Paper thin cucumber slices crunchy in their soft, crustless cover. And, then, the same paper thin slices, but this time, of radish with mint. Floods of garden party scenes and hideous pin-the-diaper-on-the-baby game visions flooded back.

A few weeks after our afternoon at Hawthorn Cottage, I got to go to a baby shower. Sadly, there were no hideous games to play but there was glorious sunshine and basking and laughing and chatting and eating. But, I took, as my contribution, a tray of some dainty little sandwiches. And I felt a little like I had time-warped back twenty-five years and conspicuous because of it. But then I got to thinking that it was just retro and retro is cool. Right?

I made my version of Jennifer’s radish and mint, with salty butter and mayonnaise perked up with dijon and lemon and cracked pepper. And, I made egg salad with a painstakingly finely chopped pile of dill carrots and chives and, again, a hint of mustard. I used some of Rumtopf Farm’s mesclun mix with nasturtiums to add a little bit of green and bite.

But, I am not going to tell you how to make dainty little sandwiches, I don’t need to do that. I just ask that you think about making them sometime. Maybe, to have with a cup of tea or take some to your grandmother, if you are lucky enough to still have her, and sit outside on a sunny day and talk about all those ‘old school’ parties. Or make something that nobody seems to make or serve anymore and then tell me about it.