A not-so-scary Veal Roast Alla Cacciatore

A roast can be a scary thing. It's quite intimidating, actually. This enormous hunk of meat is expecting you to flavour it and cook it to perfection. It's quite a daunting task, really. I'm always afraid that I have no control over a roast,like it just has a mind of its own. There's shrinkage (no Seinfeld pun intended), loss of valuable juices, toughening, netting unraveling, etc. The things that can go wrong are endless, and I sometimes feel that roasts purposely want to disgrace me as a cook by rebelling. But, not this time folks. This time, I came out victorious. I will admit though, some merit is warranted to the roast itself; as soon as I tore away the plastic wrap and lifted it off the little styrofoam tray, I knew I was dealing with a beautiful piece of meat. So I made sure to take good care of it, and preserve its tenderness the best I can.

The KEY to cooking any roast is a meat thermometer. I believe they are an essential kitchen tool.

This recipe was easy and DELICIOUS, so naturally, I have to share the love!

Veal Cacciatore courtesy of Epicurious.com

2/3 cup dry white wine
3/4 oz package dried porcini mushrooms
1 boneless veal shoulder roast
1/4 cup olive oil, divided
1/4 pound sliced pancetta, chopped *I used bacon
2 medium onions, chopped
2 medium carrots, chopped
2 celery ribs, chopped
3 garlic cloves, finely chopped
1 (28-ounce) can whole tomatoes in juice
rosemary sprigs *I just throw in as many as I feel like

bay leaves *Again, as many as you like
1/3 cup small brine-cured black olives such as Niçoise *I didn't have Nicoise, I used Infornate olives, I let them soak in water all day to remove some of the saltiness

Preheat oven to 325F with the rack in the middle.

1) Bring the wine to a simmer in a small saucepan. Add the porcini mushrooms, remove from heat and allow them to soak in wine.

2) Make sure veal is nicely wrapped in kitchen string (mine was falling apart at one end, so I secured it with some additional string). Season roast with salt and pepper. I also took rosemary spring and pushed them through some little gaps in the meat, for some additional flavour. Heat half the oil in a pan over medium-high heat, brown the roast on all sides, ensuring not to burn it. Transfer roast to a plate, and keep the juices/fat.

3) In a dutch oven, or large cast iron or enamel pot with a lid, add the reserved juices and the rest of the olive oil (add more oil if you like, enough to cover the whole bottom of the pot). Add pancetta/bacon and cook ever medium heat until browned. Add onions and saute until transparent (lower heat if they start to burn).

4) Strain the mushrooms and coarsely chop them, add them to the pot. Add the carrots, celery and garlic. Saute until vegetables are soft. Add wine from mushrooms, simmer until half has evaporated.

5) Coarsely chop the canned tomatoes and add to pot, with some of the juice (add as much as you like, depending on how liquidy you want it). Add olives. Add some rosemary and bay leaves. Simmer for about 15 minutes.

6) Put lid on and put in oven. Depending on the weight of the roast, cooking time will vary. It's approximately 35-40 minutes per pound, but the real test of doneness is the internal temperature. Follow the temperature on your meat thermometer, according to how done you like your meat. I cooked mine to well done, and it was as tender as ever. Turn roast over in pot every half hour or so.

7) When the roast is done, allow to rest in pot for 15-20 minutes before carving.

I served this with some soft polenta. It was absolutely delicious: a mound of polenta topped with the cacciatore stew, next to 2 thin slices of tender veal. It was reminiscent of cold, winter nights at my grandmother's house. Fragrant, comforting, warm. The Infornate olives were really the key to this dish for me; they donate the perfect, salty balance.

One of the greatest peasant meals you'll eat.

Enjoy the simplicity of this meal.

Profiteroles: A Tribute to Beard Papa's

Great days end with great dinners. Saturdays are usually great meal nights at Casa De Simone. Today my mom (despite her very achy back) cooked one of my ultimate favorites: smoky baby-back pork ribs and rosemary and thyme-seasoned sweet potato fries (accompanied by a tangy dip made with mayonnaise and old-fashioned mustard). Sheer comfort. Finger-licking good. Naturally, a delectable meal such as this deserves a grand finish. I fell in love with profiteroles a few years ago, the first time I ever went to Boston. In the Quincy Market there's a little stand that sells nothing but cream puffs! It's called Beard Papa's (http://www.muginohousa.com/). With 3 choices of cream filling (chocolate, vanilla and strawberry), they are surely the best cream puffs I've ever had. You take a bite, and fresh custard just oozes out every which way. Mmmmmmmmm. I would go to Boston right now to have one.

Anyway, they were the winning dessert. It was a 3-way effort between myself, Gordon Ramsay and Jacques Pepin.

Choux Pastry courtesy of Gordon Ramsay, http://www.channel4.com/food/recipes/chefs/gordon-ramsay/profiteroles-hot-chocolate-sauce-recipe_p_1.html)

125ml milk

200ml water

150g plain flour

1 tsp golden caster sugar

½ tsp salt
100g unsalted butter
4 medium eggs, lightly beaten

Preheat oven to 350F.

Place the milk, cold water, salt, sugar into a pan and set over a low heat. Once the sugar and salt has dissolved add the butter. Once the butter has melted, bring to a rolling boil. Turn off the heat, add in the flour and beat vigorously with a wooden spoon. As soon as the mixture starts to form a cohesive ball, stop beating and remove from element. Add the eggs quickly and beat with hand-held mixer (it really works best, but if you don't have one a whisk is fine. Just whisk fast!) until nice and smooth.

Line a cookie sheet with parchment paper.

Spoon mixture in a pastry bag with a large nozzle. Form balls, any size you like. I made quite large ones (the more to fill with custard, of course). You can even make eclairs instead. I got 18 profiteroles. Bake them for 25-30 minutes. Depending on your oven , they may have to cook longer. They should have a nice golden color all around. They should also be completely dry and sound hollow when lightly tapped. Allow to cool on the counter.

Vanilla Crème Patissière (or custard) courtesy of Jacques Pepin, from Jacques Pepin Celebrates

1/3 cup sugar

1/3 cup flour

4 egg yolks

2 tsp vanilla (my addition)

1 1/2 cups milk

3/4 stick of butter (3 oz), softened

Beat egg yolks, flour and sugar in a bowl for at least 2 minute, until very smooth. Bring milk to a boil in medium saucepan. Add milk egg mixture (pour in slowly and stir quickly). Pour mixture back into saucepan and bring to a boil, while stirring rigorously. Make sure to get the sides of the pan, where the custard will stick. Once the custard is thick remove from heat. Cool in the fridge. To avoid a crust from forming on the top, either sprinkle a bit of sugar on the top or place plastic wrap directly over the custard. When custard has reached room temperature, add the butter and beat until nice and smooth. I thinned it out a bit by adding some milk. Keep in fridge until ready to fill profiteroles.

Cut off the tops of the profiteroles and fill with the pastry cream. I really pile the custard on, really let it spill over the sides. Place the cut-off piece back on, like a hat. Keep in fridge until ready to serve.

Finally, melt some chocolate (I like semi-sweet, or dark chocolate) over a double broiler or in the microwave. Drizzle it on top. I tend to be VERY GENEROUS with the chocolate pouring.

Custard is cold. Chocolate is hot. Drool.

These were just amazing. Luckily, there are only 4 people in my family, and we weren't gross enough to eat all 18, so there were leftovers. Well, they're gone now.......obviously.

Some ideas I thought of to jazz them up:

-add some orange zest and a splash of Grand Marnier to the pastry cream

-add some lemon zest to the pastry cream and glaze tops with lemon glaze instead of chocolate

-add lime zest and coconut to pastry cream, drizzle tops with white chocolate

-add some strawberry coulis/puree to the custard and cover tops with white chocolate

Lots of experimenting to do! Profiteroles may well be the cause of my inevitable obesity.

Enjoy the custard oozing out every which way as you take that first bite. They're not Beard Papa's, but they're just as oozy.

Cheers.

Rabbit Cooked with Prunes and Beer

I still don't understand how some people don't eat rabbit. I've even come by people who don't even know rabbit is edible. C'mon folks! It's not gross, it's not wrong (we eat many cute animals; deal with it). It's a delicious, lean, succulent furry mammal. As often as we eat rabbit, we unfortunately haven't managed to build a rabbit recipe repertoire. We always eat it the same way: made into a stew with tomato sauce and mushrooms, served over soft polenta. It's one of my absolute favorite meals, and it will always remain the original rabbit dish. But my mother came home with a piece of paper the other night that held the holy ingredients to jazz up the bouncy critter: prunes and beer! It comes from one of her co-worker's mother-in-law, who happens to be an Italian mama with divine kitchen skills. This dish was sweet and sumptuous with a fragrant aroma vaporizing from the array of herbs and spices and beer.

Rabbit with Prunes and Beer courtesy of Mrs. DiGiacinto

-a whole rabbit

-olive oil

-salt

-pepper

-dried parsley

-dried rosemary

-1 bottle of beer (12 oz, preferably a red or brown brew for potency)

-handful of dried prunes (about 1/2-1 cup)

Now, what may have become quite evident, the amounts are either extremely vague or non-existent. Allow me to remind you that this recipe comes to us courtesy of an Italian woman, i.e. she does not, nor has ever, owned measuring spoons. The success of recipes depend on her eyesight, and the size of her hands.

So, you can adopt the QB method (quanto basta, or whatever suffices).

First, cut the rabbit. Cut the whole thing in half, cut the legs off, separate the ribcage from the rest of the body (I usually cut it in 2). Cut the breast into as many segments as you wish.

Season meat with salt and pepper.

Place all ingredients in a roasting pan (mine is rectangular, with a lid). If u don't have a lid to your pan, cover with aluminum foil to avoid drying out.

Bake at 380F, for 1 hour, 30 mins. Turn meat every 20 minutes or so.

I served this dish with an asparagus risotto and grilled zucchini. And to drink, a Shiraz-Malbec.

It was scrumptious. There's no better way to show someone how much you love them.

Enjoy!

Banana Bread--A perfect antidote to a cold, Canadian Sunday afternoon

It's been a couple of days now that the temperature hasn't budged much above -20 celcius. Dreaded Montreal winters subject your body to intolerable achiness, that goes right down to your bones. This chilly Sunday, I have vowed to stay in, and obviously bake. Soon, the sweet, comforting smell of baking banana bread permeated throughout the house, enveloping me with its warmth. Ok, maybe I'm slighty exaggerating the powers a banana loaf actually has, but let your imaginations get the better of you. Or just humour me.

This recipe was in the Life section of the Montreal Gazette on March 6, 2002. Gazette food critic Lesley Chesterman doesn't say where she got the recipe, but rest assured, it is delicious.

Banana Bread courtesy of The Montreal Gazette, March 6th, 2002

Makes one 9x5 inch loaf

1 ¾ cups white flour
2 tsp baking powder
¼ tsp baking soda
½ tsp salt
2 eggs
2/3 cups granulated sugar
1/3 cup vegetable oil
1 cup mashed bananas (about 2 large, or 3 small)

Preheat oven to 350°F. Grease a 9x5 inch loaf pan.

Sift together the flour, baking powder, baking soda and salt.

In a large bowl with an electric mixer beat the aggs and sugar until it doubles in volume. Pour in the oil. Alternately stir in the dry ingredients and the bananas.

Pour batter into pan and bake for 55 mins to 1 hour. Cool for 10 minutes.

Best eaten warm (either right out of the over, after it's cooled a bit, or heated up in the toaster oven or microwave).

Keep warm. Enjoy.

Mousse au chocolat, anyone?

At 22 it is safe to say that I don't know anything. I don't know what year the Korean war took place. I'm not too sure who owns the Habs team right now. But, I knew who Jacques Pepin was at age 8. I'm wondering if that's saying something.


You see, I'm a freshly brewed McGill graduate. If I can manage to get the paperwork done I should be a registered dietitian in no time. Career opportunities await. As my mother says: my world is my oyster. But after 3.5 years of "the finest Canadian education", I feel as empty and incompetent as ever. All I know, all I speak, is the language of food and drink.

Bread from a long line of Italians, eating is my birthright. My fondest childhood memories are tied to food: summer picnics of fresh pasta, grilled sausages, August-picked corn-on-the-cob, coming home from school and being greeted at the door with whiffs of apple streusel cake or chocolate muffins, Christmas Eve dinner at my great-aunt's house, with a table pregnant of every seafood and fish known to the oceans, either breaded, fried, pickled, baked or tossed. Oh, I can smell it all now!

I now find myself in a place that closely resembles an episode of 'Let's Make a Deal'; I'm surrounded by curtains, doors, boxes all housing possibilities, all of which I seem unknown and frightful. have many a things to figure out about myself. What I do know is that food kindles my curiosity and passion; it's what cradles my soul. I go to the kitchen to find my solace, to purge my emotions into carefully assembling a salmon Wellington, or whipping a chocolate mousse to its boozy perfection (c'mon, let's not pretend we don't take the Whiskey bottle out when making delectable desserts). I do pride myself in my broadened palate, my taste for delicacies like tripe and a good goat curry and my firm belief that one cannot have any kind of a proper day without a glass of wine.

So, I've finally realized that I need to start a food blog. I'm hoping it can be a channel in which for me to grow; by sharing my culinary experiences with all the devoted foodies out there. By becoming part of the great potluck of shared knowledge regarding food and all that it encompasses, I'm hoping to discover where my seat is at the table. Besides, I'm so addicted to food-blog surfing already, I might as well join the fun.

Food is so much more than sustenance, and I feel privileged to have realized that from a young age. I believe food is quite worthless if it is not shared. So, here commences my sharing with all of you: recipes, my favorite little gems to eat at, photos. Whatever I can.

Oh, and my favorite food quote of all time is, "The only time to eat diet food is when waiting for the steak to cook" (Julia Child). Thank you, Julia. And I undoubtedly agree.

Cheers