Sunday, February 14, 2010

Torta di Riso



The July sun beats down on the homes that surround us, already warmed by their marigold-painted exteriors. Shutters are open, cats nap peacefully on sills, and an occasional resident wisps by us on their humble bicycles. Our skin smells of summer as our shoes stroll along bumpy, cobblestone streets. A quiet afternoon in Parma, Italy.

We walk past a multitude of shops, but one in particular slowed us down. It was precious in every way. Tucked away on a small, forgotten street, it was as inviting as the afternoon was lazy. The window, with only the word paneterria painted on it, displayed a counter swollen with baked goods. The sight begged us to enter the store.

The smell of sweetness slowly crept up our noses when we opened the door. Our eyes were dancing over the shops' offerings, when Charlie uttered a quiet gasp. His eyes spotted it, finding finally what we have been searching for all day. Torta di Riso.

Sitting on the curb outside our treasured bakery we opened the bag and took out our prized purchase. Charlie has only heard his nona speak of this dessert, and now, he can happily eat what years of description tastes like. He savored it longingly. I look down at my half and admire the odd-looking snack. It is a wedge of a pie, but a pie I have never encountered. It is moist. It is dense. It is only slightly sweet. Imagine a creamy, lightly sugared risotto, but it is firm, compact. I have never eaten rice in a pie before. It was rich, nutty, and rewarding.

This memory makes every inch of my body warm with fondness. I can hear fans turning the sugared summer air. I can feel the waxy crunch of the paper holding my slice of rice cake. I can taste the almond-scented arborio. At the Piccolo Gourmet, we finally had the guts to try making our own torta di riso. Using recipes in both Italian and in English, we can firmly attest the task was well attempted. It is a testament to the saying "Practice makes perfect". Our results were not great, however, they were not bad either. Practice. And practice more we will. Our hearts will always be walking quietly on those hot July streets, and when our attempts fully bring us back to that Parma panetteria, we will blog our successful recipe.

Vegetable Soup


It is difficult for us to start this post. This soup, with it's luxurious smoothness, was an improvised act. All items used to make our aromatic stock (see previous post) were retrieved from the broth and pureed. A splash of that stock was used to help puree the mixture, but that is it.

People, we are serious. This puree is all the motivation you need to start making your own stock in the first place. Apart from having the treat of home-made stock on hand, pureeing its contents will both surprise and delight you. It is the richest, most luscious soup that ever was produced at The Piccolo Gourmet. And folks, it's vegan. That's right. That oh-so-scary word. But it was anything but bland. And the texture! Oh, the texture!

One, on their first sip, would swear there was cream added, but not a drop of dairy is to be found. Who knew? The only thing we could think of that would cause sush a silky result is the mushrooms. Supple, aromatic, slow cooked mushrooms.

We, at The Piccolo Gourmet, highly stress the suggestion of adding mushrooms when making your stock of choice. Not only will you add a subtle earthiness to your product, the guarantee of a rich, silky puree to be enjoyed later is well worth the addition.

Saturday, February 6, 2010

Homemade, Aromatic Stock


It's raining. It's snowing. The kids are finally asleep. Whatever your case may be, you actually have free time and wish to make the most of it. This is a perfect opportunity to make stock. Chef Sara Moulton calls it "liquid gold". Julia Child dedicated an entire chapter to it. In fact, she heavily encouraged one to make their own versus buying the over-salted, store-bought kind. We agree. You have an empty canvas, the chance to play with any flavors you want. And for those watching their sodium intake, this is the ideal time to really adjust the salt-levels of your soups. Making your own stock requires minimal maintenance and is as easy as "easy" can get. Even if the kids wake up and need looking after, your stock will still be perfect.

The requirements are vegetables, water, and aromatics. That is it. And you don't even need fresh ingredients. Save all those ends of vegetables you chop when making salads, stews, and casseroles. Keep a bag of these discards in the freezer and let it accumulate. When you have a decent amount of saved pieces, that is when you can make a stock.

Mushrooms are a fantastic addition to vegetable stock in a replacement for a meat-like richness. Deborah Madison, David's pioneer culinary inspiration, taught us that. And seriously folks, how many times have you just thrown out those stems when chopping mushrooms? Keep them for stock! The earthy, complex flavors of a mushroom brings wonderful depth to your finished broth. Another vegetarian secret: Substitute a Parmesean rind for a ham hock.

Here at the Piccolo Gourmet, we are extremely happy with our results. See below:

VEGETABLES:
1/2 Yellow Bell Pepper
3 whole carrots (roughly chopped)
1 cup mushroom pieces
1 medium yellow onion
4 stocks of celery (roughly chopped)

HERBS, SPICES, AND AROMATICS (perhaps the most vital part):
1 good splash of your white wine of choice
1 large Parmesean Rind (or several bits of saved rinds)
2 Tbs. Olive Oil
1 Tbs. of butter
1 bunch parsley
4 Bay Leaves
1 clove of garlic
4 whole cloves
A nice dash of (dried) Oregano
4 strands of Saffron (optional)
Salt and Pepper to taste

Fill a soup pot with roughly 1 - 1 1/2 Qts. of water. Throw in all of your chosen ingredients. Simmer for 1 and 1/4 hour. (Go do your laundry, or whatever you have to do.)Let cool on your stove for about 30 minutes. Remove all of your vegetables and aromatics. (We kept the removed vegetables and pureed them as a thickener for a future soup.) Boil the liquid until it is reduced by half. Add the salt now and adjust to your liking. You are done. It's that simple. And you will be so grateful that you didn't buy that salty can in the store. Save your stock in the freezer as the base for soups, gravies, and sauces. (We divided the stock in ice cube trays for easy removal and portion adjustment.)

Happy simmering!

Friday, February 5, 2010

An Edible "Happy Hour"


For a very brief second we are turning the wheel in a different direction at the Piccolo Gourmet. Normally we would blog an ethnic dish near and dear to our hearts. However, in the spirit of Charlie's experiment last week, (the invention of a "risotto dulce",) David grabbed the testing reins this week.

All week he could not shake the random idea of combining cocktails with baked goods. Nothing like his tia's rum cake, or anything along those lines ... something completely different. He finally decided to make a "brittle", and this idea was cemented by answering the question: "How could I bring a mixed drink into the office without being fired"? You must burn off the alcohol. Thus, the brittle idea was born.

A person's heart stretches across multiple people, places, and things. Mexico, in paticular, is near (and dear) to David's heart. That said, for this dessert, tequila became the alcohol of choice. The idea was to make an edible margarita but to burn off the alcohol to make it "work appropriate". Here is what he did:

1. Make a toffee: Melt 1 and 1/2 sticks of butter in a saucepan with 1 cup of sugar.

2. Stir constantly on medium heat. The mixture will bubble.

3. When the toffee finally turns toffee-colored, add the contents of a single, mini José Cuervo Blanco (or your favorite tequila). Beware! The mixture will splatter some, so stand back from your stove. But continue to stir from a distance. All will be well.

4. Pour this onto a cookie sheet covered in waxed paper. Let cool.

5. While the toffee is cooling, zest 1 lime and juice half of it.

6. Temper (thanks for the exact word, Jenny) 6-8 oz. of white chocolate.

7. Add the lime zest and juice to the chocolate.

8. When the toffee is COMPLETELY cooled, gently wipe off the grease remaining on the toffee from the butter.

9. Spread the tempered chocolate-lime mixture over the cooled toffee.

10. While still tacky, sprinkle some coarse sea salt granules over the top. The idea is to make a two-layered brittle. Break apart to form little bites and share with friends.

The Piccolo Gourmet will experiment more with this idea, and / or other related material. In the meantime, get out in your kitchen and experiment!! Have fun and get creative.

Tuesday, February 2, 2010

A Dessert Risotto

A perpetual question at our house is: "What can we make for dessert that’s different from the usual, tired, Italian standbys, tiramisu and cannoli?"

One evening I remembered how we both loved rice pudding as kids, but how rare it is to find good rice pudding. So, I decided to try a “dessert risotto.” No doubt my great grandmother Ledovina Andrazi Iatonni would be skeptical, but the results far exceeded my expectations.

The wonderful thing about the special rice used for risotto (arborio, and others) is that it creates its own creaminess. This results from the carbohydrate shell that surrounds the rice kernel slowly dissolving as you cook it (and why the liquid is added in stages for a proper risotto). For the dessert version, additional creaminess was obtained by cooking the rice in milk (or for a vegan version soy milk), with some cinnamon bark, and just a hint of nutmeg and cardamom.

Cook the rice as you normally would for risotto but use hot milk as the cooking liquid adding it in increments as the rice cooks. For dessert, I cooked the rice a bit longer than I normally would but that’s a matter of personal taste. Right before the rice is done, add vanilla, sugar, and honey in proportions to suite your taste. Serve on small dessert plates and sprinkle a bit of cinnamon on top.

Era squisito!