Lasagne with Turkey and Caramelized Onions

I found this recipe deep in my archives: it's one of the first recipes I typed on one of my first Macs. I didn't bother to write down where it's from, but my friend Google tells me it's from Sunset of April 1991. The recipe as written originally is designed to cut back on fat (low-fat being the trend of the day), despite the bacon. I added a bit of butter to make a béchamel rather than the cornstarch-thickened sauce they suggested. I also added some wine for additional flavor.

The resulting lasagne is delicious: it tastes nothing like a classic lasagne, of course, but more like Schwäbische Maultaschen, if you've ever had those. The onion and wine flavors dominate, while the meat and cheese add some richness. It's not a low-calorie dish by any means, but it's a bit more restrained than the kind of lasagne that involves two pounds of cheese and a creamy béchamel. And I imagine you could swap the meat out for some mushrooms to make it a vegetarian dish.

Here's my version of the recipe.

Lasagne with Roasted Onions, Turkey, and Thyme

1-1/2 lbs. red onions, peeled and sliced thin

4 oz. bacon, diced

2 large branches fresh thyme or 1 t. dried

1 lb. ground turkey or veal

3 T. balsamic vinegar

9 no-cook lasagne noodles

2 T. butter

2 T. flour

1/2 t. salt

1/4 t. pepper

1/4 t. nutmeg

1 c. milk

1 c. chicken broth

1/2 c. dry white wine, vermouth, or sherry plus some extra for the pan

1 bay leaf

4 oz. grated Parmesan (I used about 2 cups of grated cheese leftovers: Gouda, Cantal, and Parmesan)

Heat the oven to 400. Toss together the onions and bacon with some salt and pepper on a baking sheet or baking dish that's just big enough to hold them (if it's too big, the onions are likely to burn). Roast, stirring every 15 minutes or so, about 35-50 minutes, or until well browned. Add the thyme and turkey and return to the oven for another 10 minutes or so, just until the turkey turns white. Add the vinegar and stir well, crumbling up the meat. Set aside. Turn the oven temperature down to 375.

While the onion part is cooking, make your béchamel: in a medium saucepan over medium heat, melt the butter. Add the flour, salt, pepper, and nutmeg; whisk for about a minute to cook the flour. Gradually pour in the milk, broth, wine, and bay leaf, whisking to avoid lumps. Heat and stir until the sauce is thickened. This is a fairly loose sauce: you need some extra liquid for the lasagne noodles. Remove the bay leaf when you're ready to assemble the lasagne.

To assemble the lasagne, generously butter a 9-inch square pan and sprinkle the bottom with 2-3 T. white wine. Put 3 lasagne noodles on the wine and top with half the meat/onion mixture, a third of the sauce, and a third of the cheese. Repeat the noodle/meat/sauce/cheese layers and finish with a layer of noodles, the rest of the sauce, and the rest of the cheese. Lay a square of parchment over the cheese, then cover the pan tightly with aluminum foil and bake for 25 minutes. Take off the foil and parchment and bake another 15-20 minutes, until the top is brown and the casserole is bubbling. If you can, wait 10 minutes before you serve the lasagne: it will be much easier to cut. Enjoy with a green salad or vegetable.

Thai-ish Pocket Bread Sandwiches

I remember exactly where I got this recipe, even though it was probably 15 years or so ago. It was from a "Beef: it's What's For Dinner" ad that I tore out of a magazine. And typed up. And finally made.

There is nothing authentic about this recipe, but it's still really good. I added a couple small sliced onions to the peppers, and since I had lemongrass in the fridge, I minced up about half a stalk of that and threw it in. If you don't eat meat, I imagine you could put some chickpeas or kidney beans in there. And even if you do eat meat, I would think that half a pound of ground beef is plenty--I felt like there was too much. But maybe that's just me. Anyway, make this. It will take you all of 25-30 minutes.

Thai Pocket Bread Sandwiches

1 lb. lean ground beef 2 T. soy sauce

2 small red peppers 2 T. lime juice

2 T. minced fresh ginger 1 t. sesame oil

4 cloves garlic, minced 3-4 pocket breads

1/2 t. crushed red pepper 1 tomato

1/2 c. chopped cilantro 6-8 lettuce leaves

3 T. chunky peanut butter

In a large frying pan, brown beef; drain off fat. Thinly slice peppers; add to pan along with ginger, garlic, and chilies; stir often until peppers are limp, 3-5 minutes . Stir together peanut butter, soy sauce, lime juice, and sesame oil; add to pan along with cilantro. Cut bread in half crosswise; core and slice tomato . Tuck equally into each half-round the tomato, lettuce, and meat mixture. Makes 6-8 pieces.

"Mole" chili

I have some Mexican friends who would have a heart attack if they saw this called mole. But it does have a nice complex flavor. I cut down on the cocoa a bit because Sami objects to tasting chocolate in a savory dish. Whatever. This recipe is from an old issue of Sunset, I'm pretty sure, and I've adapted it to (hopefully) avoid the toughness issue I had.

Lobo Chile Mole

2 lbs. beef chuck, in cubes 2 28-oz. cans tomatoes

3 large onions, chopped 2-1/2 c. beef broth

4 cloves garlic, chopped 1 can tomato paste

1 T. cumin seed 3 T. cocoa powder

2 t. oregano 3 T. chili powder

1 t. allspice 2 T. olive oil

In a 5-6 quart heavy pot with lid over medium-high heat, heat oil. Brown the meat on all sides; remove to a plate or bowl. Turn down the heat to medium and sauté the onions until they are translucent (probably about 10 minutes), being sure to scrape up any browned meat bits. Add a little water if those bits seem to be getting too brown. Add the garlic, cumin, oregano, allspice, chili powder, about 1 t. salt, and cocoa powder, and sauté another minute. Pour in the broth, then add the meat and any juices that have accumulated. Bring to a boil, then cover and turn down the heat to low. Simmer for 1-1/2 to 2 hours, or until the meat is becoming tender but not yet falling apart. Add the tomatoes and tomato paste and simmer for another half hour. Taste for seasoning--I needed to add some more chili to bump up the heat a bit.

Serve this over rice or with cornbread and with the accompaniments you like best--this is not an especially hot chili, so you may not need the whole cheese/sour cream thing. Maybe just some avocado and chopped tomato.

Italian Pot Roast

This recipe comes from my mother's tattered, grease-stained copy, "Fifth Printing, 1971," of Sunset's Favorite Recipes. It's precious to me because it includes my mom's notes on recipes, as well as my own, and even Alicia's. To wit: Mom's handwriting on the "Forgotten Short Ribs": "The whole family enjoyed this." Alicia's handwriting (looks like she might be 10 or so), "Minus one". A vegetarian in training.

Oh, yeah, it also has some good recipes. This one did not have Mom's writing on it, but it was definitely worth making. I made a few minor changes.

This is easy but cooks for a long time: plan ahead.

Italian Pot Roast

2 T. olive oil

3-4 lb. chuck roast (my butcher gave me beef shank--at least I think he did, since he pointed to his forearm)

1/2 t. salt

1/4 t. pepper

1/4 t. ground ginger

2 large onions, sliced

4 cloves garlic, chopped

1/2 c. white or red wine

1 oz. dried mushrooms (I used porcini, but a mix would be nice as well)

1 c. hot water

1 can tomato sauce

1 c. pitted olives (whatever kind you like)

Preheat the oven to 325. In a large oven-proof lidded skillet or Dutch oven, heat the oil over medium-high heat. Sprinkle the roast with the salt, pepper, and ginger and brown it well on all sides in the oil. Remove the meat, turn down the heat a bit, and sauté the onions until they are starting to turn golden. Add the garlic and cook another 30 seconds. Add the wine, scrape up the bottom, and let cook down just a bit. Put the roast in the pot, put some of the onions on top, and cover. Put in the oven and bake for 90 minutes.

While the roast is cooking, soak the mushrooms in the water. When the 90 minutes are about up, scoop the mushrooms out of the water (save that mushroom liquid!), squeeze them out a bit, and chop them roughly. Turn the roast over and add the mushrooms to the pot. Strain the mushroom liquid into the pot as well. Cover and put back in the oven for an hour. Add the tomato sauce and olives and cook yet another hour. Enjoy the way your kitchen smells. Take the meat from the sauce and slice it; check the seasoning of the sauce, and serve with pasta or potatoes or polenta. This probably serves at least 6.

Salmon with Fennel and Mint

This is an oldie from my recipe file, and I have no idea where it came from--Sunset? St. Louis Post-Dispatch? Who knows. I completely changed the recipe, making it simpler and cutting down the butter by 5 T. You're welcome. This was elegant with rice and broccoli. The recipe as I've written it served 3, but Claire and I can only handle small amounts of salmon. Adjust according to your needs and appetite.

Salmon with Fennel and Mint

1 bulb fennel, quartered and sliced

2 shallots, halved lengthwise and sliced somewhat thickly

2 t. olive oil

Salt and pepper

2 salmon filets

1/2 c. white wine

1/2 c. clam juice

2 T. butter, preferably cold

2 T. chopped fresh mint

Heat the oven to 400. Put the fennel and shallots in a small baking dish--an 8-inch square is about the right size--and toss with the olive oil, salt and pepper. Roast for about 5 minutes. Put the salmon on top of the vegetables, season with a bit of salt and pepper, and return the dish to the oven for another 10-20 minutes, depending on the thickness of your salmon, whether it's completely thawed (mine wasn't), and whether you like your salmon cooked through. In other words, check frequently after 10 minutes. While the salmon is cooking, put the wine and clam juice in a small saucepan over high heat and reduce by a half--with luck, it should be there when the salmon is done. When it's reduced, take off the heat and whisk in the butter. Once the butter has melted and the sauce has thickened a bit, add the mint. Pour the sauce over the fish and vegetables and serve.

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.