Monday, March 8, 2010

Prosciutto-Wrapped Asparagus



The Oscars last night were a bit of a disappointment (no dark horse winners, no amazing dress disaster, a shockingly unfunny Steve Martin and Alec Baldwin), but we still had a good time watching them at Rachel's house.  Rachel made some delicious zucchini boats and chickpea fritters.  Sadly, I couldn't compete with those because I was pressed for time this weekend, so I brought along some extra-simple appetizers, especially good for winter, when asparagus is extremely inexpensive.

You'll need:
About 1 lb. asparagus
Dijon mustard
4 oz. Prosciutto

Rinse asparagus and cut off the tough bottoms (about 1 inch).  Place in a saucepan, cover with water, and bring to a boil.  Simmer the asparagus until it turns a bright green and is slightly tender.  Don't overcook!  Soggy asparagus is a sad situation.


This is the sort of setup I'm talking about.

Drain the asparagus in a colander and rinse under cold water to stop any residual cooking.  Remember: No overcooked asparagus!

Cut the prosciutto into long, thin strips.  Each slice of prosciutto should make 3–4 strips.  You'll need a very sharp knife to do this.

Lightly coat the bottom of the asparagus with Dijon mustard.  You'll need to cover about 1 inch.  This will help the prosciutto stick, and also adds a little kick of flavor.  Incidentally, cooked asparagus just with Dijon mustard is delicious.

Wrap the prosciutto around the Dijon-coated portion of the asparagus.  And done.  Wow, that was easy.



The finished product.

I asked Rizi Bizi to help me, but she was too busy napping/snuggling on the couch.



She did, however, get up to eat a little prosciutto snack.  I have never seen her eat anything so quickly.

Wednesday, March 3, 2010

Braised Fennel

Fennel is one of those vegetables that rarely gets used in American cooking, which is a damn shame, since it is so delicious.  My grandmother used to make this dish, one of my go-to comfort foods.  And it is possibly one of the easiest recipes to make ever.  It's also a great way to kill a partially empty bottle of white wine.

You'll need:
1 large fennel bulb
1 tbsp. olive oil
About 1 1/2 cups of white wine
Lots of freshly grated black pepper

Remove the feathery stalks from the fennel bulb and dispose.  Roughly chop the remaining fennel into bite-sized pieces.

Cover the bottom of a small-to-medium saucepan with the olive oil.  Place over medium heat.  Then add the fennel and stir until it begins to make a hissing sound.

Pour in enough white wine to cover the fennel.  The type of white wine doesn't matter so much—I used a cheap Rhone varietal.  Grate in black pepper to taste and stir well.  Bring the wine to a boil.


It should look something like this.

Let simmer for 20–30 minutes, or until the fennel is tender.  Remove from heat.

This dish is delicious as soon as it comes off the stove, but I think it's even better after it marinates in the fridge overnight.  Just wrap it up in a bowl and serve it cold for a simple side dish.

I also made my first béchamel sauce at Erin's house last night (she made an amazing cauliflower dish from Mastering the Art of French Cooking that required it), but that's a story for another day.

Monday, March 1, 2010

Tangy Chicken Salad

For 99% of my life, I have really and truly loathed chicken salad.  My dislike was so great that I actually had to leave the room if somebody was eating it.  So when my friend Rachel made chicken salad for dinner one night, I was slightly horrified.  Fortunately, my sense of politeness forced me to eat some and, boy, was it good!

The problem with most chicken salad recipes, I think, is that they rely on huge globs of mayonnaise to provide taste.  This recipe circumvents that problem by adding giardiniera for taste and color.  Now I am a chicken salad convert.  I made a few slight changes to the recipe for a little added zing.

You'll need:
1 roasted chicken (I got mine at the local Treasure Island for $4.99)
1 16-oz. bottle of giardiniera (mild or hot)
2 tbsp. mayonnaise
1 tbsp. white vinegar
Freshly grated black pepper, to taste

The first thing you'll need to do is disassemble the roasted chicken.  Now, I almost never cook with meat, so this was a new experience for me.  I attempted to remove the skin with a knife, but wound up using my fingers to de-skin and then to strip the meat from the chicken carcass.  I'm sure there are more elegant ways to do this, but using your hands is effective, efficient, and a chance to become intimately acquainted with the structure of a chicken (this could be a plus or minus).

Dispose of the skin and carcass, but be sure to save a little bit if you have a hungry pet:


Yes, I have to hold the chicken for her.  She is very spoiled.

Chop the chicken up coarsely and place in a medium-sized bowl.  Then chop up the giardiniera, but reserve the liquid.  Add the chopped giardiniera and the liquid to the chicken.  Add the mayo, white vinegar, and black pepper.  Mix thoroughly.  You probably won't need to add salt, as the giardiniera liquid is plenty salty.

Then it's ready to eat!  Or if you prefer your chicken salad really cold like me, cover it and put it back in the refrigerator for about 30 minutes.  Serve with some crusty bread.



I'm going to guess this will make 4 or 5 servings.  We shall see.

In other news, I'm finally all caught up on LOST.  I think I'm a little bit in love with Michael Emerson, particularly the way he pronounces words that start with "wh."  Yeah.