Ribollita with Rosemary Croutons

Here's another oldie. We made this a couple of months ago. Ah, well.



My coworker brings me her old "FoodDay" inserts from The Oregonian when she's done with them, and that's where I found this recipe. It's actually a quartet of recipes: the end product is the ribollita (and no, I had no idea what a ribollita was before I made it), but you also get "Tuscan White Beans," "Spicy Garlic and Herb Oil," and "Rosemary Croutons" out of this article. I didn't make the oil - I like regular old extra-virgin just fine and didn't have the counter space.

The Matthew Card article (link above) describes ribollita as "a rib-sticking minestra, or thick stew, of white beans, vegetables, hearty kale and stale bread flavored with great lashings of garlic, pancetta and fruity olive oil." Hmmm... you had me at "stew." And then again at "kale." And a third time at "great lashings of garlic." Basically, I'm a sucker for everything in this dish.



Here's the recipe for the Tuscan White Beans. Of course, you could also just use white beans, but they were really flavorful made this way.

Ingredients
2 to 3 ounces pancetta, minced [I just used two strips of bacon from the freezer. Tasted great]
2 tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil
1 medium red onion, diced fine
1 large carrot, diced fine
½ large fennel bulb, cored and diced fine, or 1 stalk celery, diced fine [I used celery. As much as I want to, I just don't like the taste of fresh fennel].
Pinch crushed red pepper flakes
Pinch fennel seeds
Salt
1 pound Great Northern beans, sorted and soaked in water overnight
1 head garlic, top ⅛ cut off to expose cloves
1 bay leaf
6 cups chicken broth and/or water
Granulated sugar (if necessary)
Garnishes
Extra-virgin olive oil
Coarse sea salt
Grated Vella Monterey jack or Parmigiano-Reggiano cheese[Carrina's note: or Parmesan from the green can]

Instructions
Combine pancetta and olive oil in a large Dutch oven set over medium-high heat and cook until pancetta has rendered its fat, 3 to 5 minutes. Add onion, carrot, fennel or celery, red pepper flakes, fennel seeds and large pinch salt and cook, stirring occasionally, until beginning to brown and sticking to bottom of pot, 12 to 15 minutes. Stir in beans, garlic head, bay leaf, and broth and/or water; bring to boil, then reduce heat to low and simmer, partially covered, until beans are soft and tender (adding additional liquid as necessary to cover), 1½ to 2 hours.



Remove garlic and bay leaf from pot. Discard bay leaf. When cool enough to handle, squeeze garlic cloves from papery skins, mash to paste with back of knife, and stir into beans. Adjust seasoning to taste with salt and a pinch of sugar, if needed. Serve with desired garnishes.

And now come the rosemary croutons:
Ingredients
Half to three-quarters of a stale baguette or rustic loaf, cut into ¾-inch cubes (3 to 5 cups)
3 to 4 tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil
1 sprig rosemary or sage
Coarse salt and freshly ground black pepper
Instructions
Place bread in large bowl and toss cubes with enough water to make bread soft, moist and pliable, but not crumbly. Squeeze bread and drain excess water from bowl.

Heat oil in large skillet over medium-high heat until just shimmering. Reduce temperature to medium, add bread and rosemary sprig,

and cook, stirring infrequently, until bread cubes are lightly browned, 7 to 10 minutes (you may need to use spatula to scrape any stuck-on bits of bread free). Remove rosemary and season bread generously with salt and pepper.

And now, the ribollita!
Ingredients
Salt
1 large bunch lacinato kale, stemmed, rinsed and chopped coarsely
½ to ¾ cup diced canned tomatoes, drained
4 to 6 cups Tuscan White Beans (see accompanying recipe)
3 or more cups Rosemary Croutons (see accompanying recipe)
Garnishes
Spicy Garlic and Herb Oil (see accompanying recipe) or extra-virgin olive oil
Lemon wedges
Coarse salt
Crushed red pepper flakes
Grated dry Vella Monterey jack or Parmigiano-Reggiano cheese
Instructions
Bring large pot of water to boil over high heat and season liberally with salt.

Add kale and cook until tender, 5 to 7 minutes. Drain and cool under running water. Squeeze dry and chop coarsely.
Heat tomatoes and beans in Dutch oven set over medium heat to slow simmer (add splash of broth or water if necessary to loosen consistency). Stir in greens and croutons to combine. Divide equally among bowls and drizzle liberally with olive oil or Spicy Garlic and Herb Oil, and serve with other desired garnishes.

Sunsmoke Salsa with Soba Noodles

Hey, a recipe that I didn't get from The Splendid Table's How To Eat Supper!

I can't claim that I came up with this idea on my own, because there are many delicious-sounding recipes out there that call for jicama ("HEE-kuh-muh" - there should be an accent over the "i" there) with mango and some sort of grilled or smoky ingredient, and I've drooled over all of them at one time or another.

I think of jicama as a cross between an apple and potato (and am sure that I'm not the first one to make the connection - heck, maybe that's its actual lineage), because it's crisp like an apple but leaves your knife all starchy like a potato. Oh, and because it burns my hands just like potatoes burn my hands - but that's just me and my weird hands.

I was really getting a craving for some kind of salsa on Saturday morning, and found myself in the fortunate (for me - I love grocery shopping when it's quiet) position of having half an hour to kill at Safeway. So I picked up most of these ingredients without knowing exactly what I'd do with them, but knowing that they all sounded good together, at least.

Here's most of the star produce in a group shot - except for the ginger, which is like that guy who can be seen in the back of at least one family photo per vacation, scratching his nose or contorting his face to yell at someone unseen by the camera. What I mean to say by all this is that I ended up not using ginger in this recipe. I think it would have tasted weird.

Here's the jicama! I avoided jicama for a long time after my first experience with it, because it is so difficult to peel with your average-to-dull regular peeler, and I wanted better things for my knuckles than to die a bloody death in their twenty-somethings just because their master wanted to take a shot at "Gracie's Pepper Salad with Jicama" or whatever it was. Jicama skin is tough, or at least it is by the time it gets to the grocery stores where I live! But now I have a serrated peeler, which I think is meant for fruit, but it also does a great job of peeling anything tricky.

And not to show off, but here is my adorable Microplane grater! Actually, I have now invested in three of them total, but here is the one that proved to be the perfect size for grating a little zest off the blood orange. Here it is pretending to be a skyscraper in the most recent "Godzilla" flop:

Convincing, huh? And to the left, it reveals its true stature. I got it for a dollar!

To our right we have the dried chipotle

chiles that figure in the dressing/liquid component for the salsa.

Get a look at that texture on the chipotle! Doesn't it just look like the paper bag that got left in the backyard, partially sheltered by the roof or a garbage can or something, and proceeded to get rained on and dried out by the sun repeatedly for five years?

Anyway, enough yammering about paper bags. Here's the recipe:

Sunsmoke Salsa with Soba Noodles (or other grain of your choice)
For the dressing/liquid part:

• 1/8 cup honey
• Juice from one blood orange (or regular orange! I just think the blood oranges are pretty), about 1/4 cup
• Juice from 1/2 lime
• 1/4 teaspoon zest from orange
• 2-3 tablespoons olive oil
• 1 or 2 dried chipotles chiles (I used 1 but wish I'd used 2), chopped into 4 or 5 easy-to-fish-out pieces
• 1/4 teaspoon ground cumin
  
  Instructions for dressing:
  1. Heat honey and olive oil in a small saucepan (as small as you have, really, so that the chipotles get covered up as much as possible) oon low, or whatever will heat the liquid without burning the honey on your stovetop.
  2. When the honey and olive oil are warmed and thin, add the cumin and the pieces of chipotle. Cover and let the mixture sit a little above low for 15 minutes or so, so that it smells smoky from the chipotle. If it starts bubbling angrily, turn it down.

3. Once the mixture smells nice and smoky, stir in the juice and zest from the blood orange and let the mixture simmer for a few minutes. When it seems "combined" enough and a little syrupy, take it off heat. When it's cool, take out each chipotle piece and squeeze the honey mixture stuck on the inside back into the pan. Let the mixture cool completely before adding the lime juice. You could really just add the lime juice right before you put the meal together. If you put in the lime juice before you are ready to toss the vegetables with the dressing, be sure to whisk the dressing mixture again before combining it with the veggies.

For the salsa and soba noodles:

• 1 carrot, grated
• 1 can black beans, drained and rinsed (or soaked and cooked dried black beans)
• 1 clove garlic, minced or pressed through garlic press
• 2 green onions, thinly sliced
• 1.5 tablespoons finely chopped shallot (or not, if you hate onion breath and think the garlic and green onions will be enough for you)
• 2 red bell peppers, diced, sliced, or whatever you prefer - I did a combination
• 1 medium jicama, peeled and cut into matchsticks
• 1 mango, peeled and diced
• 1/2 serrano pepper, seeded, deveined, and finely chopped
• 1 avocado
• Cooked and cooled soba noodles for however many people you are serving - or rice, or pasta, or whatever else you think would taste good under the salsa!

Instructions for the salsa:

1. Combine all ingredients except the black beans and the avocado in a large bowl. Toss to combine. Drizzle dressing into bowl, adding it in two installments if the bowl is on the smaller side. Toss salsa to coat with dressing.

2. Peel and dice avocado. Spoon 1 cup or so of salsa over each person's plate of cold soba noodles; sprinkle black beans and avocado over each serving. Or, if serving family-style, place the black beans and diced avocado over the rest of the salsa in the bowl. Serve promptly.

The "serve promptly" is so the avocado won't brown. As long as you save the avocado-chopping step for last, you've got oodles of time. I'm anticipating this salsa will keep for days (and will report back if that proves not to be the case. And hey, check out the nifty avocado-saver ("saver" - I hope) I MacGyvered together so I can have more avocado at work tomorrow. Right now, it's sitting in a mug in the fridge.

Of course, only after creating the limado (as I plan on calling it) did I remember that we're going to my brother-in-law's for dinner tomorrow, so we won't get to use the leftover avocado for dinner. So, a true test: a 48-hour avocado?! We shall see.

One final note: I described sprinkling the black beans and avocado separately on top because my black beans were a little on the mushy side and were going to be crushed under the weight of the rest of the ingredients. Beans of a springier nature should be able to handle the incorporation just fine, and adding them to the leftover salsa will do wonders for their taste, I'm sure.

Refried Beans With Cinnamon and Clove (wait - beans don't COME refried?!?)

I tried this recipe a week and a half ago and am just now reporting back on it - but that's the way it goes. First things first: this dish was very economical to make. As in, $4.25 for four servings, INCLUDING the twelve (small) tortillas and organic produce. As the queen of cheap (sounds like a tarted-up Mary Engelbreit character) (except when it comes to my morning espresso), I will be coming back to this recipe again and again, especially now that I no longer get a free lunch at my workplace. Oh, and did I mention that the beans hold up extremely well? I took three-day-old leftovers on a train trip, and they were very forgiving. The notes in the cookbook even say that they'll keep for five days! Ultimate econo-food, this.

I got the recipe from The Splendid Table's How To Eat Supper.

-Good-tasting extra-virgin olive oil

-1 large onion, chopped into 1/4-inch dice

-Salt and fresh-ground black pepper

-4 garlic cloves, fine chopped

-1 fresh jalapeño, seeded and fine chopped

-2 teaspoons ground cinnamon

-1/4 teaspoon ground cloves

-One 14-ounce can whole tomatoes, drained

-Two 15-ounce cans red kidney beans, rinsed and drained [Carrina's note: SURPRISE! The red kidney beans are (or will become) the refried beans. I can't even imagine what a cinch this recipe would be if you just threw everything into a can of ready-made refried beans. Hmmmm...]

-1 1/2 cups water

-2 tablespoons butter

1. Generously film the bottom of a 10-inch skillet with olive oil, and heat over medium-high heat. Sauté the onions with salt and pepper to taste until they begin to soften, about 3 minutes. You want to hear a sizzle as they cook.

2. Add the garlic, jalapeño, cinnamon, and cloves, and cook the mix until it is fragrant, about 1 minute, taking care not to burn the spices. Add the tomatoes, crushing them as they go into the pan. [Carrina's note: "...as they go into the pan"? Meh, what a pain. Wish I'd just stuck a spoon and the can and crushed them right then and there.] Sauté for another minute.

3. Stir in the beans and water.

Bring to a fast simmer, crushing the beans with a potato masher (or the back of a large spoon) as they cook,

and scraping the bottom of the pan as the beans begin to thicken.

Simmer until the beans are thick, about 10 minutes. Blend in the butter, and taste for seasoning just before serving [Carrina's note: pursuant to this blog's subtitle - I did it! I did taste for seasoning just before serving!]

Speaking of cinnamon and clove, go to Better With Garlic for recent recipes for Red Chile and Cinnamon Clove honeys! (two different types of honey - although the combination sounds delicious as well).

*I've tagged this recipe as gluten-free. This does not take into account the flour tortillas that I used.

Smoky Slow Cooker Chili, without the slow cooker

"I'm a low-brow but I rock a little know-how."

- the Red Hot Chili Peppers

THE (spicy) HISTORY

The last time I attempted this recipe, I stirred in a little shame as an afterthought, and was less than pleased with the results. The shame developed because I hate to waste food. I used chipotle chili powder instead of regular (I was out!) and (this was the true meal-killer) used probably 1/4 of a cup of "El Pato" hot sauce. I thought I was compensating for the fact that I had no "Mexican hot-style tomato sauce [such as El Paso]," but in fact, I pulled a Jeffrey Rowland and overcompensated, rendering the chili inedible. My husband and I managed to choke a little down, but when I couldn't finish a bowl even after diluting it with two hunks of cornbread and with two glasses of water by my side, I knew there was not a lot of hope for the rest of the batch. So bring out... REMATCH!

THE CHANGES

First of all, some mods. I used the pound of ground pork and the smoked ham hock (I'll put a smoked ham hock in anything but breakfast cereal), but omitted the pound of boneless pork shoulder. It just sounded like an extra step that I didn't need, especially when I always end up soaking more beans than I need and hence have more protein than I know what to do with anyway. Which brings me to my next modification: dried beans over canned. Canned beans are saltier and more expensive, which is not to say I don't use them, but my cheapskate side gets a little irked when a recipe tells me to use canned and I already have dried. So, I used dried - which meant that I had a very late dinner indeed.

I also used only a handful of pinto beans - the rest were pink beans. Google tells me that "another common term for pink beans is chili beans" (recipezaar.com), so I hope I'm in the clear. If only I hadn't squandered all of my pintos on that capsaicin-fueled nightmare last week!

I guess I made only three other modifications:

1) still couldn't find that elusive "Mexican hot-style tomato sauce [such as El Paso]" and used a can of tomato sauce and a few squirts of "El PaTo" hot sauce instead,

2) squirrelled away a couple of ounces of beer for myself in spite of the author's admonishment to use 12 oz instead of a cup if cooking on the stovetop, and

3) omitted the cilantro on top at the end because I forgot that my husband, and his aversion to said herb, would be out of the house playing Dungeons and Dragons tonight - so didn't buy any. Oh, and I guess modification number

4) is that I didn't use the slow cooker for this recipe. I was planning on using it, right up until late last night when I realized I'd have to get up at 4:45 to prepare this for the slow cooker and still get to work on time. Eeewww. Anyway, I just used my Dutch oven instead.

THE WORK

First, I browned a pound of ground pork. I have to say, though, that I think this chili would be yummy without the meat, as long as you put in a little chipotle chili to keep the smoky flavor from the ham hock, and kept the beer.

Then, I put the pork in a different container and sauteed the onion, pepper, and then garlic (added at the last minute) in the pot where the pork had been. Sauteeing onions is one of my favorite things to do because 1) my stomach knows that it means that some kind of soup is on the way, and 2) unless I forget about the pot and go downstairs to do laundry, I can't really screw it up.

Next, I added the tomato paste. The recipe had me sautee it with the onions and peppers for 3 minutes, I guess to just keep cooking the whole mixture down? And then, the beer. I love adding alcohol to a sizzling dish. It opens up another whole family of aromas.

I then added the rest of the herbs and spices, tomatoes, beans, hot sauce, smoked ham hock... and... the tomatillos! They're my favorite - they're so cute! Here's one to do a little striptease for us now:

I love the teensy seeds!

Despite their individual charms, however, the tomatillos ended up spending their night in service to the greater good: my chili.

After adding the tomatillos, I covered the pot and settled in for a looooong, hungry, 2.5 hours.

Here's a glimpse of the pink beans about halfway through. They really are pink!

When the 2.5 hours were up, I pulled out the ham hock, shredded the meat, and threw the shreds back into the pot. Here's the defrocked ham hock:

Of course, even with 2.5 hours to spare while the chili was cooking, I forgot that I had a little prep work to do for the toppings. So at the last minute, so desperate from hunger (it was at least 9:30 at this point!) that I actually used the recipe as a cutting board, I chopped the green onions, crumbled the queso fresco, and hacked up some lime wedges.

(lime wedges not pictured)

Aaaaaaaaand, the final product!

I had some cornbread in the freezer from last week's failed attempt of the chili recipe. It thawed and reheated pretty nicely!

THE END!

I would make this chili again in a heartbeat (assuming we didn't already have chili leftovers in the fridge) using the slow cooker or the pressure cooker, but would probably not do it again in the Dutch oven unless I had all afternoon. Definitely NOT a weeknight dish with the dried beans. I might have been able to speed up the process a bit by cooking the beans with just the veggies and a non-acid cooking liquid for a while, adding the tomatoes and beer later (acid keeps beans from cooking quickly, right? I think I've read that). Even so, it's too big of a project for a Monday night, IMO.

I have to confess that my motivation for making this chili in the first place had a lot to do with the toppings. Here's how my line of reasoning went, even if I couldn't have articulated it at the time:

I love noodle bowls.

Noodle bowls (sometimes) have limes and green onions on top.

This chili has limes and green onions on top.

I will love this chili.

And hey, I did! But if you're going to make it, don't leave out the toppings. The tomatillos were fun, but not nearly noticeable enough to justify "trying something new" in a chili recipe all on their own. The stuff on top makes the meal!