Pears in Pernod Caramel via Pane e Salute

Thanks to Foodbuzz for including this post in 22 December's Top 9.

Karen and I live a life of food regrets. Foods we wish we had tried, places we wish we had visited. Typically, it’s because we couldn’t afford something (The French Laundry, Per Se) or didn’t know about it. Big Sur Bakery comes to mind. And so does a special restaurant in Woodstock, Vermont.

Several years ago (pre-kids, pre-NYC), we flew to Vermont for a work conference Karen had. We figured since she was headed there in the middle of the Fall foliage season, we’d make a long weekend out of it. So we rented a car, popped in a brand new Claire Holley CD, and headed for the hills and the leaves.

It ended up being the final days of peak foliage, and every view out the car window made us think the whole thing was a bit of a put on. Really, Vermont? Is anywhere this perfect? We kept waiting to see some stagehands moving the scenery, especially when we headed to the Von Trapp Family Resort during which I quietly hummed “So Long, Farewell” because that is what you must do when climbing the hills of the family estate. It’s a requirement.

We knew we wanted to head to the Ben and Jerry’s factory so that Karen could go to their graveyard of retired ice cream flavors to pay her respects to Chocolate Peanut Butter Cookie Dough (R.I.P.), but other than that, we had no plans. Just drive, look, and be together. It was late 2001, and being together was what we needed then.

Lots of happy discoveries came along the way. Not too far from B&J’s was an apple cider mill that had a hot cider donut machine right behind the checkout counter. Hot fried donuts. Really, nothing better. So hot they burned our mouths. Perfect.

There was also the Quechee Gorge, a valley of stunning beauty. We were just driving along, saw people hanging their heads over a guard rail looking down. Not knowing what was what, we parked at the gift store on the other side, and walked to join the gapers. Stunning. Also, “Quechee” became a nickname for each other during our trip, getting shortened to “Queech.” Vaguely inappropriate.

And not too far from Quechee was Woodstock, Vermont. A perfect little Vermont town, seemingly created for tourists. It’s almost too perfect, really. It’s the kind of place you dream about opening up a little restaurant and living out your dreams with the Queech of your dreams...and then you find out someone already did that.

Deirdre Heekin and Caleb Barber, we discovered, have a special restaurant there. Once again, we missed out on something wonderful because we didn't know there was something wonderful to be had. So, we bought their cookbook once it was available.

Pane e Salute is the name of their restaurant and of their first cookbook (they have two additional cookbooks).The subtitle of the book is “Food and love in Italy and Vermont.” Having experienced both food and love in the same places, this book spoke to us and our dreams. 

It’s easy to romanticize the outcome of someone's journey, disregarding the effort of the journey itself. So, let’s be easy for a minute. From the first line of the preface, they had us mentally packing our bags and dreaming big:

“The day after we got married, my husband Caleb and I flew on one-way tickets and moved to Italy.”

And so begins the journey and the discovery of wonderful food.

Their book is divided up by season and then by course (antipasti, primi, secondi, contorni, dolci). While every recipe we’ve tried was excellent, the first we made remains our favorite, especially because of the giant leaping flames.

Pears in Pernod Caramel are sexy as hell. A simple caramel with a quick saute of the pear. Then a shot of smooth star anise-flavored Pernod to the pan, a tip toward the flame and then magic. Prep + cooking time = 10 minutes. Simple perfection. And worth a trip back to Woodstock to taste them for the first time all over again.

Recipe | Pere in Caramello al Pernod (Pears in Pernod Caramel) via Pane e Salute by Deirdre Heekin and Caleb Barber

• 1 T butter
• ¼ c heavy cream
• ⅛ c sugar
• 3 ripe but firm Bartlett pears
• ¼ c Pernod
• Mint leaves, sliced thinly

Peel the pears (veggie peeler comes in handy here). Cut the pears in half from stem to bottom. Use a measuring teaspoon to remove the core and the little nobby on the bottom.

Heat a large pan over medium heat. Melt the butter in it. Add the cream and sugar. Stir and cook aggressively for a couple of minutes. It will bubble. Add the pears to the pan so that the cut sides are face down and cook for a few minutes. Remove the pears from the pan and place on your serving plates. 

Now, work carefully. Measure the Pernod into a glass or bowl. Do not add the Pernod directly from the bottle to the pan. Bad things will happen. This is gonna go up in flames quickly. 

Using the Pernod in the glass or bowl, carefully and quickly add the liquor to the pan. If you’re cooking with gas, carefully tip the edge of the pan toward the flame, but be ready. Flames are a comin’. If not using gas, carefully bring a lit match toward the pan. Either way, set the flaming pan down on the stove and let the flames burn themselves out of existence. Then pour the caramel sauce over the pears. Sprinkle the mint around if you have it. Eat.

roasted eggplant with golden raisin pine nut vinaigrette and feta cream (adapted from Barbara Lynch’s Stir)

This is a three-part post. Parts II & III are after the recipe.

Part I - Joy

We are so pleased to be part of a group of more than 50 bloggers participaing in “Share Our Holiday Table.’ As our friends, Debra and The Professor, over at Smith Bites say it, this is a “virtual progressive dinner party to raise awareness and funds to support Share Our Strength’s ‘No Kid Hungry Campaign’ that is taking place through December 14th. Please click here for more information as well as to make a contribution if you can – even a small donation will help feed a child.” Perfectly said, friends.

We signed up for the vegetarian main course because we have so many friends who don’t eat meat. This has become our signature vegetarian dish when those friends come to visit. It screams comfort, with the roasted eggplant melding perfectly with the feta cream, all of it getting a sweet + salty + savory punch from the golden raisin and pine nut mixture. 

We’ve adapted this into a casserole from Barbara Lynch’s recipe in her book Stir. It’s great right out of the oven or served warm (you can take it out a little early from the oven to make room for one of the other great recipes posted in Part II of this post as part of “Share Our Holiday Table”...)




Notes on this recipe:

• [Updated] For those of you non-pescetarians who don't eat anchovies, Carol Peterman has great ideas in the comments below for substituting porcini mushrooms or sundried tomatoes for them. Love that. Thanks, Carol. I've included your ideas in this update.
• We like using goat’s milk in this, but feel free to use heavy cream instead.
• Small- to medium-size eggplants work very well. The giant ones might be too eggplant-y for this one.

Recipe | Roasted Eggplant with Golden Raisin Pine Nut Vinaigrette and Feta Cream (adapted from Barbara Lynch’s Stir)

• 2 pounds eggplant, cut into bite-size pieces (about 1-inch square, but don’t obsess over getting them perfectly cut) If they have thick skins, you might want to peel them.
• 3 T + ½ c olive oil
• 1 c. golden raisins
• 1 c. goats milk (or heavy cream)
• 10 oz. feta cheese crumbled
• 3 shallots
• 3 garlic cloves
• 2 anchovoy filets, rinsed and chopped finely OR a handful of chopped porcini mushrooms OR 6-8 oil-packed sundried tomatoes
• 1 c pine nuts (or a little less. They can be expensive.)
• 6 T sherry vinegar
• Assuming you have salt and pepper on hand

Preheat the oven to 375F while you chop the eggplant. Get out a baking sheet and lay down some aluminum foil or parchment for easy clean up. Spread out the eggplant pieces into a single layer (use another sheet if you have extra). Sprinkle the 3 T of olive oil on top followed by some salt and pepper. Use your fingers to toss it all together and spread it back into an even layer. Toss it in the oven for 30 minutes, checking around 20 min to see how things are doing. You want the eggplant almost browned (almost).

While the eggplant is roasting, throw the raisins into a bowl and cover with hot water. Let them hang out for a while. 10 minutes or so.

In a sauce pan over medium heat, heat up the goats milk to a simmer. Dump in the cheese and whisk or stir. Melt the feta down as much as you can until you’re bored. Maybe 7-10 minutes. Pour the mixture through a fine-mesh strainer to remove the lumps. You can press the feta cream chunks in the strainer to break them up some more. Leave no goodness behind. Then set aside and move on...

In a smallish saute pan, heat up a tiny bit of the reamining oil. Medium heat.

If using the anchovies - get the anchovies in there first and stir/break them up even more. 

If using the mushrooms or sundried tomatoes - add in the mushrooms or sundried tomatoes (heck, why not both) and  sauté for 2 minutes.


OK, everyone back from your "pick your own adventure?" Then add in the shallots and garlic. You’re looking to make them tender, not brown them. Stir for about 5 minutes or so. Put them in a bowl (to which you will add some other things, so a medium bowl should be fine).

Drain the raisins. Dump the newly plumped raisins into the shallot garlic mixture. Throw in the pine nuts with no regard for their feelings. Add the vinegar. Then the remaining olive oil. Mix/whisk. Check for salt and pepper.

In a baking dish (casserole or 9x13), spread in a few drops of olive oil. Add a layer of eggplant pieces. Taste a piece of the eggplant. How’s the salt? Does it need more? Adjust if it does. Spread on half of the feta cream. Add on the golden raisin mixture. Add on the remaining eggplant. Then the cream. Then the golden raisins.

Shove the dish into the oven. Bake for 20-30 minutes. Check periodically to make sure the pine nuts don’t burn.

Eat.

Part II - So many great recipes! Check out these wonderful posts from the other Share Our Holiday Table bloggers.

December 10: Entrees

Gourmet

• What’s Gaby Cooking
• Food Blogga

Family Friendly

• Life in Recipes
• Bluebonnets & Brownies
• Foodie Tots

Vegetarian

• The Perfect Pantry

Gluten Free

• The Sensitive Pantry
• Nourishing Meals

December 9: Soup

Gourmet

• edible cville 
• The Runaway Spoon
• A Girl, A Market, A Meal

Family Friendly

• Ladles and Jellyspoons
• Two Dollar Dinners 
• All About Alton Brown 
• Cookie Central's Great American Bake Sale

Vegetarian

• Good Life Eats
• Feed Our Families 

Gluten Free

• Celiac Teen 
• Celiacs in the House
• Gluten Free Life with Jen
• And Love it Too! 

Find links to all of the amazing posts here.

Part III - Hurrying past reality

I felt like a bit of a fraud writing this post. So here goes...

Two nights ago, I was at the checkout of the grocery store, which is two blocks away from our house. We needed milk and sundried tomatoes and bananas. I grabbed a few more things for good measure (fresh mozz, some goat cheese, and Cheerios). I was in a hurry and had run out of the house in my red Crocs which I don’t gerneally allow myself to be seen in public wearing. This kids hadn't taken their naps that day, and I promised Karen that I’d put the kids to bed to give her a break. I had put the girls to bed, and I had 20 minutes to shop and get back to put our son to bed. We needed the milk for the kids in the morning, so the trip wasn’t optional.

20 minutes. I was in a race against the clock to get home in time to get him on the potty, brush his teeth, and read him a story which lately has been the Toys R Us catalog. He memorizes every item and can now tell me what the toy is on demand.

I have my items, the one I need (milk) and the ones I didn’t (everything else). And I’m looking for a line to checkout quickly. And things are moving slowly because they are moving slowly. No one is doing anything wrong or not doing their jobs or asking to write a check or anything. It’s just taking time to get everyone through the checkout. Apparently, this grocery store had not synced their pacing to my individual needs. Which I know is unreasonable. But I know my energy was projecting that I was really hoping everyone in the store could focus on my particular time schedule and GET THINGS MOVING, please. Faster. Thank you.

I had four minutes left to get home on time when I finally placed my items on the belt. Three minutes left when I swiped my card. I bagged. Reusable that I brought with me, if you care.

And as I place my last item in the bag (2 minutes left), the cashier asked me if I’d like to donate to the local food pantry.

No. Nope. I am in a hurry. It’s been a very long day, and the kids didn’t sleep, and I have to get home, and get pajamas on this boy and you don’t know what that takes some days. So no. I have 90 seconds left. Could you just please give me my receipt. I need to go. The clock is ticking and I can make it because I’m two blocks from home. I can do it. So no.

All of that was my internal monologue. I think I just mumbled something to her about “Not this time.” I grabbed my bags and nearly ran out of the store.

I made it home in time. Perfect.

After I got our son in bed, I remembered I had to write this post to ask you to donate to Share Our Strength. This from the guy in the red Crocs who didn’t have 30 seconds to spare to give to the local food pantry. Who could have donated $10 alone had I redirected the unnecessary cheese purchases. Who thinks his world is hard, but reality does not reflect this. Not when I’m honest. Not when I’m buying goat cheese.


In case life hadn't made my hypocrisy abundantly clear, Karen started telling me about the episode of Long Way Round, a TV show that documents Ewan McGregor and his best friend going across the world on motorcycles to raise money for charity. In this episode, the pair had visited a building in Russia where abandoned and orphaned children lived in heating ducts of a large building. Where children become adults at the age of five. Where a boy our son’s age was responsible for caring for and feeding a sister the age of our daughters.

I have time. I can make time. I am fortunate beyond words. And I forget that sometimes in the rush of life. And I need to remember that all of us are a decision or two away from needing the people in my community to help me. Help us. Help us survive.

And so. In a big pile of humility, may I ask you, if you are able to do it, could you please give to Share Our Strength? I know many of you already give generously to charities, to friends, to family. And some of you really are living paycheck to paycheck, with the weight of your reality pressing down on you.

But if you are able to give, could you take 30 seconds and donate? Maybe two minutes? Share Our Strength does incredible work through out the year helping people make it to the next day.

lemon rosemary risotto (via Nigella Lawson)

Risotto is the best comfort food we make. Along with fried goat cheese salad. And chocolate chunk cookies. And wine. 

But risotto is right up there. 

We make this risotto all year long, but we feel a little weird telling people we're having a hot bowl of love in the middle of August. So, now that we're in December, we're in full-on risotto weather. It's safe, finally, to share the love.

This lemon rosemary risotto is the perfect blend of tangy, creamy, and cheesy.

• The lemon and rosemary meld their flavors together, sort of in a Wonder Twins way. Individually, the lemon or the risotto would be great, but together, pretty amazing. 
• You want the heavy cream here. It's important. Fat rules. 
• And good Parm means something in this recipe. You will taste it, so get the best you can afford, whatever that means for you. It'll be good no matter what.

Risotto gets a bad name for being difficult. It isn't. Can you stir? Great, you can make risotto. Calm down. You're going to be great.

Note, we know that Nigella calls this just "Lemon Risotto." We think that tells only half the story. The rosemary is pronounced and wonderful.

Recipe | Lemon Rosemary Risotto from Nigella Lawson (via foodnetwork.com)

strawberry-cream cheese coffee cake (via Amanda Clarke on seriouseats.com)

When we lived in the Chicago area, Oak Park to be exact, I had a reverse commute for a year out to Downers Grove. Though considering Chicago traffic, a reverse commute means very little in terms of saving time. The company I worked for was housed in a nondescript building behind the Hooters (I still have never had their chicken wings. Honest). It was a lot of life spent in the car, listening to WBEZ, Chicago's NPR station, pretending I would have a story good enough for Ira Glass to put on This American Life (the closest I came was talking to him at Fox & Obel one day), taking comfort in the fact that we lived three blocks from Peter Sagal, host of Wait, Wait, Don't Tell Me. Maybe a life of public radio wasn't in the cards, but at least we could wish Peter good night every time we drove past his house ( all together now..."Goodnight, Peter"). And honk at him while he raked leaves. NPR stalker.


The best thing about the commute out to Downers Grove? A drive past the local plant of a very well-known bakery brand. Coffee cakes. Pound cakes. Cookies. Danish. You know the one. They had a store at the plant that was open to the public. My favorite was the "reject" section, full of boxed baked goods that weren't fit to ship to supermarkets. This often meant the icing machine had gone haywire, leaving a half-inch thick coating of white sugary love on 3/4 of the danish. To me, this represented a new and improved feature, not a cause for rejection. 15 seconds in the microwave, and I was blissed out in butter and sugar and strawberries. A big cup of coffee, and I was buzzed for a good long while, listening to Weekend Edition, to Car Talk, to Wait Wait, to TAL, when the sugar and caffeine would wear off, and I'd realize that hopes are nice, dreams are better, but a warm danish could soothe a lot of the falling short.



This coffee cake from Amanda Clarke on seriouseats.com is about ten times better than anything we picked up from the reject pile. Homemade is usually better, right? But this one, this strawberry cream cheese coffee cake, moves into the territory of hopes and dreams. Four layers: a buttery soft crust, a layer of diced strawberries , smooth+sweet cream cheese, and perfect crumb topping full of brown sugar and butter. Really this is one for the books.

Hint - Frozen strawberries work perfectly here. So do raspberries. Blueberries. You get the point.


You can have this prepped in 20 minutes, bake it for 35. Full on love under an hour.


recipe | strawberry-cream cheese coffee cake (via Amanda Clarke on seriouseats.com)

banana cinnamon chip pancakes with cinnamon crème anglaise

Best pancakes in America? Listen, we haven’t tried all of them (we intend to try all of them before we die), but the ones we love most are served up at The Bongo Room in Chicago. Karen and I tend to have semi-platonic relationships with certain restaurants in Chicago [the aforementioned Frontera Grill, a little hot dog place on Belmont named Murphy's, erwin’s in Lakeview (he is legend), and Anna Maria Pasteria to name a few].

But The Bongo Room stands out in our minds simply because we had to get there before they opened, trying to get in the first seating of the day. Weekend brunch there is event dining, and we spent so many Chicago-cold Saturday mornings waiting to get a seat inside where it was warm and where those pancakes were plentiful and smothered in love.

And when I say “smothered” I mean dripping. Warm, luscious toppings over every pancake. There’s no place for syrup here (they probably have some behind the fully-stocked bar somewhere), because those pancakes come covered in crème anglaise or berry reduction or compound sweetened nut butter (which is the silliest thing I’ve ever typed).  

Their latest menu has listed “Caramelized Apple & Toasted Walnut Flapjacks with warm praline cream & toasted walnut pieces” (I would hurt someone if I had to get to these) and "Banana Oreo Hotcakes: banana hotcakes with crushed oreo cookies, warm vanilla bean crème, chocolate crème anglaise & fresh bananas.” 

Sigh. Reading that menu just now made me want to book a flight to Chicago, even for a two-hour layover to eat pancakes.

When we went to Chicago in the fall to see our friend Ellen Lilly marry Alex (who we found out later owns the outstanding Franks ‘N’ Dawgs), we stopped for pancakes and ordered a single of every pancake on the menu. And a breakfast burrito. It was obscene. And it was perfect.

So in celebration of our devotion to The Bongo Room, Karen came up with her own spin on TBR-style pancakes. And they were perfect. 

May I present to you Banana Cinnamon Chip Pancakes with Cinnamon Crème Anglaise. This, my friends, is how to stay married for 14 years.

We’ve long searched for a great basic pancake recipe. We’ve tried a lot of the top-rated recipes online, but none of them really worked for us, at least in terms of TBR amazingness. You need a pancake that can stand up to the sauce. On a whim, Karen tried this one from allrecipes.com. Perfect. Crazy great batter. I don’t think we’ll ever try another recipe.

She added Hershey’s cinnamon chips to each pancake after pouring them on the griddle. How much? “Eyeball it. I don’t know. Just sprinkle them on there until you’re happy,” she just said. So, there you go. Sprinkle until happy. Add some sliced bananas in there.

For the crème anglaise, Karen made this recipe from Epicurious, but she divided the final product into two pans, and added more Hershey’s cinnamon chips to one batch. I asked her how many cinnamon chips she put in, and she just stared at me. Which means you should eyeball it and sprinkle them in and stir until you’re happy.

So, this is as close as we’re going to get to Chicago and The Bongo Room for a while. But it’ll do just fine. Perfectly, in fact.


Recipe | Banana Cinnamon Chip Pancakes (eyeball the cinnamon chips and the bananas)

Top with this recipe | Crème Anglaise (divide final product in two and eyeball the cinnamon chips until happy)