Patricia Wells' Leek Tart

It’s slim pickings at the farmers market this time of year so my eyes lit up when I saw a stack of leeks at the Paffenroth Gardens stand the other day.  I’m not going to lie; upon closer inspection, the outer layer of the leeks looked a little withered and worse for wear. I bought them anyway because I’d already started dreaming of one of my favorite savory tarts made of leeks, crème fraiche, Gruyere, and prosciutto.

I’ve been making this recipe for years. I love to have it for dinner with a beautiful green salad; it makes me feel so civilized and, well, so French. Which it should because a leek tart is a classic French dish.

The recipe comes from, Bistro Cooking, one of the first cookbooks in my collection. The American author, Patricia Wells, has lived in Paris since 1980 and authored a dozen books, many related to French cooking and cuisine. She also runs a cooking school called At Home with Patricia Wells in both Paris and Provence. Wells wrote a food column for the International Tribune for years and is a true expert on French cooking. Despite her accomplishments (and I haven’t listed them all here) her writing and cooking style remains down to earth and authentic. In my mind Patricia Wells’ recipes are the French equivalent to Ina Garten’s i.e. easy and elegant.

Flamiche aux Poireaux (Leek Tart)
Adapted from Bistro Cooking by Patricia Wells

Paffenroth Gardens, where I found my leeks, is a Union Square stalwart, showing up every Saturday even in the depths of winter. Alex Paffenroth is something of a root vegetable specialist, growing a large and diverse variety all year round.

Leeks are a member of the alluim family, which also includes onions, shallots, scallions and garlic. The flavor of a leek is more sweet and mellow than that of an onion. The edible portion of a leek is the white and light green stalk; the dark green top is fibrous and not pleasant to eat.
 

Because the white stalk grows under the soil (that’s why it’s white and not green), dirt is usually found between its many layered sections. I remember my cooking school teacher making a big deal about the need to clean leeks carefully before cooking.  If a recipe calls for chopped leeks, I find it easiest to clean them by cutting the leeks first than washing them in a colander or salad spinner.

The crust is a classic French pastry dough called pate brisee. It’s light, flaky, and rich and may be used for both sweet and savory dishes (if you’re making a sweet tart, add a little sugar to the dry ingredients). The butter to flour ratio is high which means you need to keep all the ingredients cold and work fast, with as little contact with your warm hands as possible.

The dough is a breeze to make but I guess I wasn’t working very quickly because it didn’t turn out as pretty as it usually does. I’m showing the pictures anyway because I know working with dough can be intimidating for some. I’m here to say it’s not a big deal, especially in this case. The crust gets filled with the leek mixture and no one will ever see the bumps and patches underneath. Go for it!

Pate Brisee
1 - 1 1/4 cups all purpose flour
7 tablespoons unsalted butter, chilled and cut into pieces
1/8 teaspoon salt
3 tablespoons ice water

Place 1 cup of flour, butter, and salt in a food processor. Process just until the mixture resembles coarse crumbs, about 10 seconds. Add the ice water and pulse just until the pastry begins to hold together, about 6 – 8 times. Do not let it form a ball. (As is often the case, I used a pastry blender instead of my food processor; either method is fine). Transfer the pastry to waxed paper; flatten the dough into a disk. If the dough seems too sticky, sprinkle it with additional flour, incorporating 1 tablespoon at a time. Wrap the pastry in waxed paper. Refrigerate for a least 1 hour.

Tart Filling
12 small leeks (about 3 pounds)
4 tablespoons unsalted butter
1 teaspoon salt
Freshly ground black pepper
2 large eggs
1/4 cup creme fraiche
4 slices (about 3 ounces) ham, such as thinly sliced prosciutto, coarsely chopped
1 cup (about 3 ounces) freshly grated Gruyere cheese

Prepare the pastry shell:
Roll out the dough to line a 10 1/2 inch tart pan. Carefully transfer the dough to the pan. Chill for 30 minutes or until firm.

Preheat oven to 425 degrees Fahrenheit.

Prepare the filling:
Trim the leeks at the root. Cut off and discard the dark green portions.
 

Split the leeks lengthwise then coarsely chop. Wash chopped leeks in a salad spinner or colander with cold water until no grit remains.

Melt the butter in a medium size saucepan over low heat. Add the leeks, salt and pepper to taste and cook, covered, until the leeks are very soft but not browned, about 20 minutes.  If the leeks have given up an excessive amount of liquid, drain them in a colander.

Combine the eggs and creme fraiche in a medium size bowl and mix until thoroughly blended. Add the leeks and mix again.
 

Reserve 1/4 cup each of the ham and the cheese to sprinkle on top of the tart. Mix the rest into the leek mixture.

Pour the leek mixture into the prepared pastry shell. Sprinkle with the reserved ham, and then the cheese. Season generously with pepper.

Bake until nicely browned, about 45 minutes. Serve warm or at room temperature.

Serves 6 - 8

Harvest Porridge

After hunkering down/shoveling out of the big Nor’easter that blew (and blew and blew) through New Jersey the day after Christmas, I craved something warm and hearty for breakfast.  My mind turned to a meal I had a few weeks before, after a chilly morning walk along the Hudson River.  

There is a Le Pain Quotidien in Battery Park City that serves something called Harvest Porridge.  It is made of farro, almond milk, dried cranberries, pecans, and walnuts, and sounded as healthy and filling to me that day as it did this snowy morning - just what my achy, shoveled-the-long-driveway-three-times-in-40-mile-per-hour-winds body was calling out for.

Farro (also known as emmer) is referred to as an ancient grain for good reason; it was the first cultivated grain, appearing over 10,000 years ago in the Near East and Mediterranean.  Farro was found in Egyptian tombs and was standard fare for the Roman Legions as they conquered Western Europe.

Farro fell out of favor with growers because of its low yields and lengthy milling process.  It’s a shame because this whole grain is one of the healthiest you can eat.  Farro is a complex carbohydrate that contains double the fiber and protein of regular wheat.  It’s loaded with antioxidants, minerals, and vitamins, which contribute to reduced inflammation, stable blood sugar levels, and lower cholesterol. Did I mention it's delicious, too?

Farro is hulled wheat, meaning it has a hard, inedible outer husk that encases and protects the grain inside.  It can be purchased whole or pearled. Whole farro is the more nutritious of the two types because it retains the bran layer and germ when the outer husk is removed; the drawback is it takes longer to cook.  Pearled farro loses the bran and germ along with the husk during the milling process.  This enables the grains to cook faster (about half the time) but lowers the nutritional content.  

The majority of farro today comes from Italy but there are a few US sources producing high quality, heirloom grains.  South Carolina’s Anson Mills sells several varieties of farro, as does Washington’s Bluebird Grain Farms.  I bought mine at the Friday Union Square Greenmarket from Cayuga Pure Organics, supplier of New York grown organic grains, flours, and dried beans.   Founders Dan Lathwell and Erick Smith have been involved with farming in Ithaca, NY since the 1970’s and are committed to sustainable farming practices such as composting, crop rotation, and growing food without pesticides, GMO’s, and artificial fertilizers.

Farro is considered country food in Italy; its chewy texture and nutty flavor make it ideal for soups, salads, stews, and pilafs.  The firm texture is what made it appealing to me as a breakfast cereal.  I like oatmeal, but sometimes the texture is too mushy for my taste. Farro is an excellent alternative. 

Harvest Porridge

Adapted from Le Pain Quotidien

My only caution to you when cooking farro is this:  know what you’ve got.  Is it pearled or whole?  Most farro recipes I come across don’t distinguish between the two types and give cooking times based on one or the other (from my experience, it’s usually pearled).  As a general rule, pearled farro takes half as much time (30 minutes) to cook as whole farro (60 minutes) so adjust your recipe accordingly. 

I had some experimenting to do with my farro.  When I bought it from the Cayuga stand, it wasn’t labeled one way or the other and I hadn’t a clue about this “whole” vs “pearled” business.  I pulled out a farro recipe and started cooking.  It seemed like it took forever to cook – much longer than what the recipe called for - and the grains never really got soft and chewy.  I gave up and tossed the whole thing in the garbage. 

I went back and spoke to the woman I had bought it from and turns out, my farro was whole. She recommended cracking it in a coffee grinder to decrease cooking time and magic! - it worked!  I’ve also read you can pour hot water over whole farro and let it stand overnight to soften and decrease cooking time.

So let my experiment be a help to you; the last thing I want to do is scare you away from this excellent grain.  If all this sounds too complicated, start with pearled farro, which is less temperamental to cook with.  Yes, you’ll lose some nutrition, but it’s still a powerhouse food.   

The original recipe called for agave, which I didn’t have on hand so I substituted a splash of maple syrup instead. 

Almond milk is made of ground almonds and contains no cholesterol or lactose, making it a healthy alternative to cow’s milk.  It has a pleasant, mild flavor and is quite tasty in this recipe. Of course, regular milk is fine to use, too.

3 cups unsweetened almond milk

1 teaspoon vanilla extract

1 tablespoon maple syrup or raw agave nectar

½ cup whole farro, cracked in a coffee grinder or pearled farro, as is

¼ cup dried cranberries

2 tablespoons chopped pecans

2 tablespoons chopped walnuts

In a medium saucepan, combine almond milk, vanilla extract, and maple syrup.  Bring to a boil over medium heat.  Stir in farro.  Simmer over medium-low, about 35 minutes, stirring occasionally.  Add dried cranberries.  Continue cooking another 10 minutes or until farro is tender and has absorbed the milk.  Spoon into bowls and top with pecans and walnuts.

Serves 2

Update:

Alexis at Cayuga was kind enough to share more info about their farro and farro in general.  Here is what she had to say.  Thanks, Alexis!

I find it best to first soak the farro in room temperature water for about 6 to 8 hours before cooking.  Our bodies do not create the enzyme we need to properly digest and metabolize most grains.  Plus the longer the grain soaks, the less one is bothered with cooking for hours and hours.  If anything happens to float to the top of the bowl/pot during this soak period (which may be over night if that is how you chose to do so) scoop it off and discard!  During the actual cooking process I suggest treating the farro like a wild rice; water ratio of 3 (cups of water) to 1 (cup of grain).

Ten years of eggs for breakfast and counting….

I’ve been eating eggs for breakfast for, oh, I don’t know, 10 years? Maybe more, but it’s something like that. I never believed the naysayers who said eggs were bad for my cholesterol levels (they’ve been proven wrong, anyway) and have eaten one, usually two eggs a day for years. I just got the results back from my yearly physical and in my doctor’s words my cholesterol levels are “great”.

I even like to have eggs for dinner and when I go to one of my favorite neighborhood restaurants, The Odeon, I’ll often order an omelette as my entree. For me, it’s one of life’s ultimate comfort foods: delicious, nutritious, warm and filling.

For as long as I’ve been cooking eggs, I’ve been buying them from the Greenmarket. It used to be there were only one or two farmers who sold eggs at Union Square; I’ve always bought mine from Quattro’s Game Farm, a 50-year old family farm located in New York’s Hudson Valley. The Quattrociocchi family treat their chickens well, letting them spend their days on pasture for most of the year. Along with eating whatever they find pecking around the field, their birds are fed oats and corn ground into feed on the farm. One look at a Quattro egg is all it takes to know their chickens live a good, clean life; the egg yolk from a pastured bird is more orange than yellow, a result of the varied nutrients they take in.  When cracked open, the egg is so firm and fresh it barely moves.

One of the reasons I got into the habit of going to the Saturday Union Square market before 9:00 AM was so I could get my weekly carton of eggs; any later and Quattro’s would more often than not be sold out. Now there are many more farmers selling eggs so I never have to go home empty-handed, but I’m still loyal to my friends at Quattro’s.

I cook my eggs in a cast iron skillet because that’s how my mom has always done it and her mother did the same. In fact, my mom uses my grandmother’s iron pan that is wonderfully seasoned from decades of use.

What do I mean by “seasoned”? That is the non-stick patina cast iron acquires from an initial application of vegetable oil to its surfaces and time spent in a hot oven. Subsequent use will only enhance this coating.

My pans are made by Lodge Cast Iron, a family-owned company located in South Pittsburg, Tennessee since 1896. Manufacturing with iron can emit pollutants into the environment and Lodge has made serious strides to reduce its impact on the environment, earning awards for their efforts from local and state governments.

A well-seasoned cast iron pan should require little, if any, oil or butter to cook food in it. I recently noticed food sticking to my skillets, which doesn’t really bother me – it gives me a good excuse to add a little Ronnybrook butter to the pan – but I decided a re-seasoning was in order.

I went to one of many online sources to get detailed instructions on the correct way to season cast iron. After coating my two favorite pans in vegetable oil, I popped them into a very hot oven for an hour. Or I should say I intended to pop them in for an hour. The genius that designed my apartment thoughtfully placed the smoke alarm on the wall directly next to my oven. Oil baking for an hour at 500 degrees will generate some smoke. Not a ton, but enough that a fire detector located 5 feet from the oven will go off...and off...and off. Needless to say, my pans did not bake for an hour – more like 20 minutes. But even that abbreviated time has helped restore the beautiful, black surface that is so desirable on a cast iron pan.

There are many reasons to use cast iron when cooking; I like that its non-stick surface is chemical-free and that cooking in an iron pan adds a small amount of iron to my diet. It is incredibly long lasting and, as noted, can be handed down from generation to generation. It can go from stove to oven to grill. Cast iron is incredibly inexpensive when compared to other cookware; today my 9” skillet costs $16.99 online.

Chefs love cast iron for its ability to maintain a high, even temperature which produces excellent carmelization and a crispy coating on food. I just read an article on food entrepreneur and Mario Batali sidekick (his words, not mine), Joe Bastianich, and when asked what his favorite cooking tool was, he said his cast iron pan.

During the week while I’m scrambling to get to work in the morning, I do the same to my eggs. I have it down so pat that I can get everything out of the fridge, heat the pan, whisk the eggs, toast the bread, stir the eggs, butter the toast, and plate my breakfast in less than 5 minutes. (I’m happy to report that my new kitchen is just big enough that I can’t stand in the same spot and do all of the above as I could in previous apartments. This one actually requires moving several steps in either direction. You have to have lived in a NYC apartment - my loft-living friends being an exception – to understand how exciting this concept is…)

On the weekends I like to fry my eggs in a pan that is divided in sections so the egg doesn’t spread out too much. I take a nicely toasted slice of multigrain bread from Rockhill Bakehouse or Our Daily Bread, butter it with more Ronnybrook butter, and slip a slice of Cabot extra-sharp cheddar under the hot egg, melting the cheese just so. This summer I became obsessed with Cholula hot sauce thanks to my Vineyard friend, Elliot, who taught me to sprinkle a bit on top of my eggs for a little kick. Perfection!

Summer Fest 2010 - Corn and Squash Sauté inspired by Chez Panisse Café

This is my first time participating in Summer Fest, a cross-blogging celebration of summer’s glorious food and gardens, hosted by Margaret Roach of A Way to Garden and her collaborators, Todd and Diane at White on Rice Couple, Shauna Ahern the Gluten-Free Girl, and Food2. 

Each week there is a different theme and everyone is encouraged to submit a tip or recipe relating to it; this week we’re talking about corn.  Click here and visit some, if not all, the other blogs that have contributed.  I have a feeling you’ll leave inspired! 

The corn recipe that immediately came to my mind to share was one I made up after eating at Alice Waters’ Chez Panisse Cafe almost a decade ago.  It’s not her recipe, merely my best remembrance of a dish I had there, recreated in the spirit of this spectacular restaurant.

I first visited San Francisco in May of 2001.  My close friends, Drew and Mel, had moved there from NYC and I planned a ten-day trip to see them and explore the city.  I quickly found out San Fran is my kind of town and if I didn’t have a life in NYC, I’d be tempted to put down roots there.  The natural beauty of the land, abundant outdoor activities, low-key residents, and incredible farms and local food all add up to a very appealing way of life.

By the last day of my trip I had literally been everywhere and seen everything I had hoped to with one exception:  Chez Panisse.  Alice Waters’ championing of sustainable, local farms and insistence on cooking with fresh, seasonal ingredients was - and still is - an inspiration to me.  I was dying to eat at her restaurant and see if the hype was really warranted.  I hoped so.

Drew and Mel were at work and I hemmed and hawed over the idea of eating lunch at the Café by myself.  I decided it would be worse if I went all the way back to New York without having experienced it, hopped on the next BART to Berkeley and headed to 1517 Shattuck Avenue, home of Chez Panisse. 

To this day I still consider that lunch the most delicious meal I’ve ever had in any restaurant.  My selection of pizza with wild nettles and ricotta salata, baked local salmon with corn, squash, and basil, and Washington rhubarb crisp with mascarpone ice cream might not sound earth shattering, but when executed with the finest, freshest ingredients and with care and precision (not fussiness), it truly was.  Therein lies the magic of Chez Panisse. 

Corn and Squash Sauté

Inspired by Chez Panisse Café

This dish benefits enormously from being made with just picked corn and squash.  Many of you Summer Fest folks are lucky enough to have your own gardens to harvest veggies from.  If you’re like me and only have space to grow basil on your windowsill, head to the nearest farm stand and shop there.  I found Jersey corn and New York State squash at the Union Square Greenmarket.

This is an easy recipe to alter; sometimes I’ll add diced tomatoes or quartered cherry tomatoes.  Other times I’ll mince a shallot and sauté it with a pinch of red pepper flakes before adding the squash and corn.  It just depends on my mood and what’s on hand.

4 or 5 ears of corn, shucked and cut off the cob

1 medium green or yellow squash, diced

2 tablespoons unsalted butter

1/2 cup white wine or water

1/4 cup basil, torn

Salt and freshly ground white pepper, to taste

1 tablespoon unsalted butter

Heat 2 tablespoons butter in a large saute pan over medium-high heat.  Add squash and sauté 4 minutes.  Add corn, sauté 1 minute, then add wine/water.  Simmer until the liquid has disappeared, about 3 minutes.  The vegetables should retain their crunch – don’t let them get too soft!  Stir in 1 tablespoon butter and season with salt and pepper.   

Off heat, stir in basil.  Serve hot.

Serves 4 people