Sunday, April 26, 2009

Rescued Recipe: Crêpes Polonaises

I have an odd collection of cookbooks, to say the least. I certainly don’t have 101 cookbooks like Heidi Swanson, but I do have a bookshelf full of them. The thing is, I forbade myself from buying new cookbooks back in the 90s, so my collection is dated. Of course, I occasionally let other people buy me cookbooks (if you’re reading this and want to gift me, I’d love Dorie Greenspan’s Baking from My Home to Yours and Mark Bittman’s How to Cook Everything Vegetarian), so I do have a few from this century. But I still have Cookbook Rules. I don’t like cookbooks with too many pictures, and I don’t like fussy chef’s cookbooks. I know that so many people love beautiful food photography, but frankly, it intimidates me. It’s like looking at clothes in a catalog—it looks great on the model, but I’m going to look like a sack of potatoes in it. And even though my food tastes great, it’s no model ready for photography. All I need is a list of ingredients and a tempting description, and I’m ready to cook.
So the cookbook that I’m “rescuing” a recipe from today is called Mes Meilleurs Desserts by a certain Anne LeChastenier, printed in 1988. I bought this baby at a cookbook store in Paris in about that year. I didn’t speak much French and asked the lady at the shop for some guidance. She didn’t think much of my French or cooking skills and guided me to this book and another, Cuisine Sans Souci, that I still cook from. These are both simple but not basic books. They assume that you have all the basic cooking skills and just need some ideas to get you through the next meal. If you’re making crêpes, which we are here, they just tell you: “Préparer la pâte et la laisser reposer…Faire sauter les crepes.” (Make the batter and let it rest; cook the crêpes) That’s it. You don’t know how to make crêpes? Go ask Maman.
I’m going to take this approach with you, because I’m not the official crêpe maker in my home. My French husband gets this task, which he does with aplomb. He even gets the first crêpe right. One of the reasons I married him. I see on the Internet that there is a video of Alton Brown making crêpes. If you don’t know how, you might start there.
So here’s the recipe, translated and adapted. We had it for a dinner party and then for breakfast the next day. It’s not mind-blowingly delicious, but we had no trouble polishing it off.

Crêpes Polonaises
Makes about 18 crêpes; would probably serve about 6 for breakfast and about 10 for dessert.

Crêpe batter:
3 eggs
50 g. (1/4 c.) sugar
Pinch salt
1/2 liter (2 c.) milk
300 g. {10.6 oz.; about 2 c.) flour—I used about 1/3 whole wheat pastry flour
25 g. (2 T.) melted butter
More butter for frying the crêpes
More sugar for sprinkling

Filling:
50 g. (about 1/3 c.) raisins—I used golden raisins
a shot glass full of rum
200 g. (7 oz.; a scant cup) fromage blanc (I used homemade ricotta; you could also use cottage cheese that’s been puréed in the food processor for about a minute)
3 T. cream or sour cream (really crème fraîche, but I can’t get that here)
100 g. (1/2 c.) sugar
2 egg yolks
pinch salt
1/2 t. vanilla (not in the recipe, but pretty good anyway)

For the crêpe batter, put the eggs, sugar, salt, and milk in the blender. Blend it for a few seconds, then add the flour and melted butter and give it another few seconds until it’s smooth. Let the batter sit for at least half an hour.
For the filling: Soak the raisins in the rum for at least half an hour. Use a mixer or a food processor to mix the cheese, cream, sugar, egg yolks, salt, and vanilla; fold in the raisins. Chill until the crêpes are ready.
Now it’s time to cook the crêpes. Heat up an 8-inch skillet. Take a stick of butter out of the fridge and unwrap about the bottom fourth. Hold it by the paper and swirl it around the pan to butter it. Now pour in about 1/4 cup of batter and swirl it around the pan. Get out your pancake turner and start scraping at the edges. When you start seeing the bubbles popping at the top of the crêpe, do your best to flip that baby. Give it another 30 seconds and it will be done. Repeat this procedure until you’re out of batter (although the batter will keep for a while in the fridge if you get tired of making crêpes and just want a drink). If your name’s not Sami and you’re not from France, you’ll probably have to make 2-3 crêpes “for the cook” before you get it just right.
Now turn on your broiler. When your crêpes are done, spread each one with a large spoonful of the cheese filling, fold into quarters, and put it on a baking sheet. Sprinkle the crêpes with about a tablespoon of sugar and run them under the broiler for a few minutes until the sugar caramelizes and the crêpes get all crispy. This process also makes me feel better about those raw egg yolks ☺. Enjoy, perhaps with another shot glass full of rum.

Wednesday, April 22, 2009

Spinach and Red Pepper "Gratin"

I’m not very good about the whole seasonal produce thing. I usually plan my meals well in advance and don’t necessarily think seasonal until I see the price of the non-seasonal vegetables. I feel guilty about this, and so I end up trying to compensate by buying whatever looks decent at the local natural foods market and/or the farmer’s market. What that means is greens, and for us, mostly kale. I’ve grown very fond of kale and throw it into many dishes where it’s not called for—pasta dishes, egg dishes, soups—greens are good for you, right? I sometimes do the same with collards, but they’re quite a bit more assertive and can be bitter.
So when I went to make this dish (the recipe is from a back issue of Bon Appétit), I had a lonesome bunch of kale in the fridge. Also half a package of mushrooms. They both went in, uninvited. I didn’t have the ricotta or Swiss cheese (does anyone call it Swiss cheese anymore?) the recipe called for, either. Not to worry—I had goat cheese and some fancy cheddar that had been on sale at Whole Foods. Results? Yummy!
This dish isn’t really a gratin; you could call it a casserole (very non-threatening), a crustless quiche (sounds healthy), or a frittata. In any case, it’s really good and comes together pretty fast. I like the balance of healthy and artery-clogging qualities. If you cook it, feel free to use the veggies that are looking lonesome in your fridge!

Spinach and Red Pepper Gratin
Adapted from the March 2004 Bon Appétit

Serves 4 as a main dish; maybe 6 as a side.

2 red peppers
1-2 bunches of kale
2 big tubs of spinach (about 10 oz. total)
1 T. butter
2 leeks (white and light green parts only), washed and thin-sliced
4 oz. mushrooms, sliced
2 cloves garlic, minced
About 1 oz. each good Cheddar, goat cheese, and Parmesan, grated or crumbled
4 eggs
1 c. cream (let me know if a lower-fat substitution worked for you)
Salt, pepper, nutmeg

Roast the peppers the way you like to—I do it in my toaster oven at 400 for about 20 minutes, then let them sweat in a paper bag. While they are roasting, put on a big pot of salted water to boil. Wash the kale well and cut out the stems with scissors. Cut it into 1/2-inch ribbons. Cook the kale in the water for about 6-7 minutes, until it is tender but not mushy. Add the spinach and just stir it around to wilt before you drain it off. You’ll want to dry it well, which means that you could press it in a kitchen towel (which will be green for eternity) or in a potato ricer (very effective, but you have to do it in batches). While the kale is cooking, sauté the leeks and mushrooms in the butter over medium-high heat; season them with a bit of salt and pepper. Mine developed a brown crust on the pan, which I deglazed with vermouth.
Add the garlic and cook a minute longer. Peel and dice the roasted peppers. Now heat the oven to 350 and butter/grease/spray a baking or casserole dish that holds at least 2 quarts. Put all the veggies (the greens, the reds, and the browns) into the dish, and then sprinkle the cheeses over that. Whisk together the eggs and cream, season fairly aggressively with salt, pepper, and nutmeg, and pour that over. Shake the dish (gently) to distribute the egg mixture. Bake the gratin for about 45 minutes—it’ll be golden brown on top, and a knife should come out clean. Serve hot, warm, or room temp.