Blue Cayenne

There I was, like a jilted bride ditched at the altar, clutching a huge bouquet of leafy emerald green sweet basil and wondering what the heck to do next.

Believe me, I had no plans for any major cooking projects using basil when I drove down PCH to the Long Beach Farmers Market this week. It just happened. Like a proposal from a feckless suitor, the huge bunches of exquisitely aromatic basil on the vendors’ tables beckoned and I was in a mood to say yes.

Since these lazy late summer days are salad days at my house anyway, I decided to try David Lebovitz’ basil vinaigrette recipe–a riff on pesto sans the pine nuts. I had just bought some glorious Spanish olive oil from the Antica Olive Oil store in Los Alamitos, so the marriage of my beautiful basil and my extraordinary olive oil seemed perfect.

The truth is that I’ve been working on my vinaigrette game this summer–looking for that certain something that turns an uninspired oil and vinegar vinaigrette into something special. I want it to be pretty, too. This simple vinaigrette recipe seemed like it might be the one.

Fresh basil is a very interesting ingredient. It has graced people’s dinner tables for a very long time.

Basil is believed to have originated in Africa. It has been cultivated in India for over 5000 years and was known to Greek and  Roman cooks. In more modern times, the French and the Italians took basil purees, pistous and pestos, to culinary heights.

According to Harold McGee’s On Food and Cooking, basil was relatively unknown here in the United States until the 1970s. How is that even possible? I guess American cooks were busy turning out tuna casseroles and jello molds. Ugh.

I’m not doubting McGee, though. He is a culinary giant.  A Yale PhD (in romantic poetry!), he writes about food chemistry and history and has authored a number of important books including On Food and Cooking which was first published thirty-two years ago and was revised and updated in 2004. His book is seen by many as the book that pioneered the kitchen science book genre where technical food science is translated into engaging reader-friendly prose.

McGee also has written for The New York Times, Food and Wine Magazine and Physics Today and is a sought-after lecturer/teacher in venues as varied as The French Culinary Institute in New York City and the Fermi National Accelerator Laboratory. (No.The Fermi reference is not a typo.)

Since 2010, he has been a visiting lecturer at Harvard, teaching their course “Science and Cooking: From Haute Cuisine to Soft Matter Science.” Talk about a Renaissance man!

Back to basil. Basil is in the mint family and is related to culinary herbs ranging from lavender to marjoram to oregano to sage and thyme.

Heaven knows I’ve tried to grow my own basil.  McGee’s book calls basil a “hardy” annual. Not for me.

I keep buying those pots of basil at Trader Joe’s and convincing myself that I won’t kill yet another one. Einstein was right, of course: “Insanity: doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results.” So it is with me and growing basil.

Interestingly, McGee writes that the delicious aroma of the sweet basil leaf varies greatly depending upon the age of the plant. “The flavor of basil depends not only on the variety, but on growing conditions and the stage at which it is harvested. Generally, aroma compounds make up a larger proportion of young sweet basil leaves than old, by as much as five times. In leaves that are still growing, the relative proportions of the different compounds actually vary along the length of the leaf, with the older tip richer in tarragon and clove notes, the younger base in eucalyptus and floral notes.”

I can see this vinaigrette being drizzled over any number of cold vegetables. Today I enjoyed it over cold roasted beets.

Lebovitz describes drizzling it over white beans. That sounds good, too.

Maybe I’ll do that for dinner.

Ingredients: Basil Vinaigrette

1/2 C. extra-virgin olive oil
1 1/2 T. red or white wine vinegar (I used a white balsamic)
1 T. water
1 small shallot (peeled and sliced)
1 t. Dijon mustard
3/4 t. kosher salt
2 C. loosely-packed fresh basil leaves

Directions:

Combine olive oil, vinegar, water, shallot, mustard and salt in a blender. Add coarsely chopped basil leaves. Blend, scraping down sides of blender jar, until you have a smooth sauce. This will take about 15 to 30 seconds. This vinaigrette can be thinned with a bit more water or olive oil.

There is a vendor at the farmers market I frequent who stands in front of his stand every week and sings “almost too yummy” about his produce in a scratchy tenor voice.

On more than one occasion, I have heard the nearby vendors good-naturedly (and with an intentional delay) adding their voices to the first vendor’s song. When they do, the “almost too yummy” refrain ricochets across the market like the mountain echoes in Alpine yodeling. It always makes me laugh.

Here is an impossibly easy mushroom side dish. Despite its ease of preparation, it is, as my vendor would sing, “almost too yummy.” Try it.

Recipe:
8 oz. whole white mushrooms
2 cloves garlic (minced)
1 T. chopped parsley
salt and pepper
1 T. olive oil

Directions:
Saute mushrooms and garlic in a heated pan with 1 T. oil for two to three minutes. Once pan is sufficiently hot, add 2 T. milk and cover the pan and continue to saute until mushrooms are soft. Remove pan from heat and add 2 T. cream cheese. Stir until cheese melts and forms a smooth sauce. Return pan to medium heat and stir until sauce is bubbling. Spoon mushrooms into a heat-proof serving dish and sprinkle with parmesan or swiss cheese. Heat briefly under the broiler of your oven until the cheese melts and begins to brown. Remove from oven and garnish with chopped parsley and sprinkle with paprika and/or a pinch of cayenne pepper. Enjoy.

Cook’s Notes: I spooned the mushrooms and their sauce over mashed Yukon gold potatoes and it was pretty wonderful. I think this would be a great brunch dish served with buttered toast points, too.

Here is a link to the original recipe at Lovefoodies.com:

Creamy Garlic Mushrooms

One of my favorite cooking magazines, Cook’s Illustrated, runs a quirky “Quick Tips” column that I love.

In a two-page spread in each issue, cooks around the country send in ingenious “hacks” they have developed to get around some of cooking’s daily annoyances. (Did I use the term “hacks” correctly? I’m a boomer. It’s. Not. Easy. I’m still struggling to understand what a “hashtag” is and what you do with one–sounds like a cooking term to me. Am I wrong?)

I’m not totally uncool, however. On a redemptive note, I did understand Joe Biden’s reference to malarkey at the Democratic Convention. Did you? Apparently there have been a whole lot of people looking up the term in recent days. Let’s just say, I know malarkey when I hear it.

Meanwhile, back on the subject of quick tips, Cook’s magazine’s August issue has a genius suggestion to store ripe peaches in a muffin tin to keep the peaches from touching each other and spoiling quickly. Boy could I have used that idea last week. Also in the August issue, another cook, in a moment of clarity, has discovered that he can core a jalapeno pepper with an apple corer and avoid the dreaded consequences (like touching your eyes) of handling jalapeno seeds. (Am I the only one so careless as to do this? Repeatedly, I inflict “jalapeno eyes” on myself–after which I lie in bed with an ice pack on my face and vow never to be so careless again? Until the next time, of course.)

I’m hoping against hope that one day Cook’s  will run a foolproof idea for managing one’s refrigerator. I have two refrigerators and my household is one person and a very small dog. Nevertheless, I never have any room in my refrigerators.

How can that be, you ask.  Answer: It is all those damn little jars that say “refrigerate after opening”–like the jar of sweet jalapeno slices I convinced myself I needed at my last Trader Joe’s shopping extravaganza. (They’re good.)  If I sound just a bit edgy about refrigerator space issues in my home,  the backstory is that  I just tried to refrigerate one of those mammoth Costco watermelons. Believe me, it wasn’t pretty.

Here is my adaptation of a recipe from the August issue of Cook’s. Influenced by Southern Italian cooking, this recipe uses red peppers and ricotta cheese to make a glorious pasta pesto. (I know. I know. Pesto is supposed to be made of basil leaves and pine nuts. Keep an open mind, people!)

The link to the original recipe is posted at the end of this post.

Recipe: Penne with Red Pepper Pesto

3 red bell peppers (stemmed, seeded and cut into 1/4 inch wide strips (about 5 cups–it took 3 1/2 peppers for me to get the required 5 cups)
3 T extra-virgin olive oil
Salt and pepper
1 small onion (chopped)
1 tomato (cored, seeded and chopped)
1/3 cup chopped fresh basil (I used a combination of Italian basil and Thai basil)
1 t. garlic (minced to a paste)
1/2 t. red pepper flakes (omit if you don’t like spicy food)
1/2 C. whole-milk ricotta cheese
1/4 C. grated Parmesan cheese (plus extra for serving)
1 t. white balsamic vinegar (or white wine vinegar)
1 pound pasta (I used rigati but the recipe calls for penne)

Directions:
In a large non-stick pan, combine 2/3 of the red pepper strips with 1 T. olive oil and 1/4 t. salt. Cover and cook over medium heat until the peppers are soft and begin to brown. This should take about 15 minutes You should stir occasionally.

Add the chopped onion, tomato, basil and the pepper flakes to the pan with the peppers. Also, add 1/2 t. garlic paste. Cook (uncovered) until the onion is soft and beginning to brown at medium heat. This should take about 5 more minutes. Remove your pan from the heat and let is sit and cool for 5 minutes.

Using your blender or food processor, puree the ricotta, Pamesan, remaining one-third of bell peppers, remaining 1/2 t. garlic, 3/4 t. salt and 1/4 t. pepper until smooth. Add your cooked bell pepper mixture and puree for about 20 seconds. Scrape down the sides of the bowl and, with the blender running, add vinegar and remaining 2 T. oil and puree for another 20 seconds. Scrape down the sides of the bowl and blend one more time for 20 seconds. Pour the sauce back into the pan.

Boil pasta in 4 quarts salted water until pasta is al dente. This took me about 14 minutes in boiling water. Reserve 1/2 cup pasta cooking water. Drain pasta and pour it into the pot with the pureed sauce. Toss to combine and, if necessary, add some of the reserved cooking water to get the consistency of sauce you like. (I didn’t add any water.)

Season with salt and pepper to your taste. Serve with grated parmesan and sprinkled with a bit of chopped basil.

Cook’s Notes: The pretty black pan pictured in this post is an All-Clad pan. It is beautiful and makes a great presentation on your table. This pan was a generous gift from my good friend and fellow cooking enthusiast, Sarah. This dish is a bit spicy. Omit the red pepper or reduce it if you don’t want your pasta to be spicy.

I served this with a small dollop of ricotta on top of each serving. I suspect that a bit of heavy whipping cream added to the sauce would also be a nice addition.

Here is the link to the original recipe:

Cook’s Illustrated recipe for Red Pepper-Ricotta Pesto Sauce for pasta