All Posts Tagged ‘Spring

Post

sunday dinner: sausage & green garlic flatbread with seasoned ricotta.

4 comments

Real talk: I didn’t want to move to Portland.

When I think back to the moment I chose to uproot my life and relocate back to the West Coast, I would be lying if I said it was a moment of excitement. Mostly it felt stressful and uncertain and my heart was heavy. I knew it was the right decision — hell, it was an easy one once the reality of my father’s Alzheimer’s diagnosis sunk in — but it wasn’t a happy one. I dragged my feet when it came to planning the details of the move, and I had to completely fake a smile when others asked me to ‘share the exciting details’. I was all smiles on the outside, all ho hum on the inside. The morning I left New York, I sobbed all the way to the airport; in such dramatic fashion that at one point my Uber driver handed me a tissue and turned the radio up to drown out the sound of my crying.

It wasn’t that I didn’t love Portland when I lived here before, I truly did. My time in Portland is the reason my life since that time has been so incredible. But still, the entire venture, even with an incredible job and an instant set of friends who were more like family and the close proximity of my actual family; it all felt like one giant step backwards. I had lived all over the world, accomplished amazing things, and my next big thing was a move…to Portland? I was heartbroken in a number of ways, not the least of which was feeling like my life was headed in a direction I didn’t want.

Flash forward five months and I’m standing in the middle of the farmers’ market at Portland State University. It’s an overcast but warm Saturday morning, and the market is a-buzz with locals hunting for the freshest the farm can offer. And it was there, standing over a basket bursting with green garlic and microgreens that I realized, I. LOVE. IT. HERE. I’m so goddamn happy I could scream.

Is my life different than it was in New York? Absolutely. But that’s OK. My job is incredible. My friendships are strong and mature and even better than they were before (that goes for my friends in Portland AND my friends in New York). I’m closer (physically and emotionally) to my family, which brings me peace of mind. And I have completely fallen back in love with the city of Portland. It has given me the balance I so dearly needed, and I’ve been able to slow down a bit and really enjoy life. Turns out, all of the anxiety was complete rubbish, but it took moving across the country and making a go of it to figure that out. I still miss New York; I always will, it’s in my bones. But the idea that I made the wrong decision or that I have any shred of regret is completely out of my head. This is my home, and I am gloriously happy to be here.

So. In a bit of a tribute to my farmers’ market revelation, this recipe is made up of only ingredients from the market (except the pizza dough and the cheese). It’s something I’ve been tossing around in my head for awhile, and I’m excited to finally put in on the plate. And it’s seasonal as all get out and a perfect meal to celebrate all the beauty of Spring. Salty, spicy, herby, delicious.

I’ll be enjoying this on the balcony of my new Portland abode (I can afford a balcony now! Take that, NYC.), relishing the fact that it all worked out and I’ll be OK. Moving to Portland certainly wasn’t the step forward I had imagined, but it definitely wasn’t a step backward either.

You ready? OK, let’s do this.

Sausage & Green Garlic Flatbread with Seasoned Ricotta
Serves: 2

You will need:

2 links fresh, uncooked sausage, removed from the casing
3 stalks green garlic, thinly sliced, white & green parts separated (you can substitute 3-4 green onions if you can’t find green garlic)
5 spears asparagus, thinly sliced on the diagonal
1 pound pizza dough, divided in two
1 small ball fresh mozzarella, torn into small pieces
3 tablespoons grated parmesan or pecorino romano
½ cup fresh ricotta
1 meyer lemon, zested and cut into 4 wedges
Extra virgin olive oil
Sea salt and freshly ground black pepper
Crushed red pepper flakes (optional)
1 bunch microgreens or baby arugula

Kitchen equipment: large baking sheet or pizza stone, sauté pan, zester, parchment paper

Prep the dough. First things first, remove your pizza dough from the refrigerator and bring to room temperature. I typically do this about an hour before I start cooking. By bringing to room temp, the dough will be much easier to work with, will stretch nicely, and won’t seize up in the oven and create a weird thick, doughy center. Nobody wants that.

OK, now that’s taken care of, place your baking sheet or pizza stone in your oven and preheat to 475 degrees. It’s getting hot in herrrrre…

Prep the toppings. While the oven is preheating, prep your veggies and set aside. Cook the sausage in a sauté pan over medium heat until nicely browned, breaking up into small pieces with a spoon, about 6 minutes. Remove from the pan to a paper towel-lined plate to cool. Wipe out the pan, add a touch of olive oil, then add the white parts of the green garlic. Season with salt and pepper and sauté over medium heat until softened and translucent, about 4 minutes, then add them to the plate with the sausage.

Prep the flatbread. Next, lay down a piece of parchment paper on your countertop and stretch each of the pizza dough halves to about 1/4 inch thick, drizzling each with a little bit of olive oil and seasoning with salt and pepper. Toppings are next, but a word of warning first: less is more when it comes to flatbread. You want to distribute toppings in thin layers — this will ensure everything cooks evenly, and it will allow the flatbread to cook crisply all the way through. Too many toppings equals soggy middle crust, not a desirable outcome in my book. OK, you’ve been warned, on with the show!

Distribute the mozzarella, parmesan, and asparagus slices evenly over both pizzas, leaving about a 1 inch border on all sides. Top with the sausage and green garlic mixture, the green garlic tops, and another dusting of parmesan. Season with salt and pepper.

Now the tricky part. Once your oven is fully preheated and your baking sheet or pizza stone is nice and toasty, remove it from the oven and transfer (carefully please, safety first!) the flatbread onto the hot surface. This shouldn’t be too difficult to do with the aid of the parchment, but still, look alive.

Cook the flatbread. Cook the flatbread for about 10 minutes, rotating once and watching semi-closely to ensure nothing is burning. At the 10-minute mark, turn off the oven and turn on the broiler. Move the pizza to the top shelf and broil for an additional 2-3 minutes, until the cheese is fully melted and bubbling and the crust is golden brown.

Prep the garnish. While the flatbread is cooking, combine the ricotta, the lemon zest and juice from 2 lemon wedges. Drizzle with a touch of olive oil, season with salt and pepper and stir to combine. Place the microgreens in a large bowl and add juice of one lemon wedge and a drizzle of olive oil. Season with salt and pepper. Toss to combine.

Bring it all together. When the pizza is finished cooking, remove from the oven, and set aside to rest for a few minutes. Just before serving, top the pizza with the seasoned ricotta in whatever way suits your fancy, a smattering of the red pepper flakes if you’re using them, and garnish with the dressed microgreens.

This little ditty is best eaten immediately (let’s be honest, I won’t actually make it all the way to my fancy balcony because I can’t wait to sit down to eat), and pairs beautifully with whatever is your favorite wine of the moment (mine’s a toss up between Elk Cove Pinot Gris or Mandrarossa Nero D’avola).

It’s salty and cheesy and herby with just the right amount of spice, and it allows the farmers’ market ingredients to really shine. Delicious all around, a perfect celebration of Spring, and for me, a perfect celebration of Portland. Enjoy!

Advertisements
Post

sunday dinner: roast chicken & asparagus with rhubarb butter.

Leave a reply

Confession: I keep a list of my 25 favorite words on my iPhone. And it is one of my very favorite things. Words like superfluous, modernity, flibbertigibbet. Effervescent, ephemera, dusk. They roll off the tongue and just bring me such joy. I have always had a certain love affair with language; it consistently amazes me that there is a perfect word out there to describe nearly every situation. I have another list of words that I don’t love, but that’s another blog post for another day.

And my favorite culinary term, you may ask? It is without a doubt, most assuredly: SPATCHCOCK. Say it with me ‘spatchcock’. S-P-A-T-C-H-C-O-C-K. It’s a truly glorious word (thanks, Ireland). And what sounds like something that is decidedly NSFW is actually just a fancy way of describing the removal of the backbone of a chicken so you can splay it out spread eagle style for cooking. When a chicken is spatchcocked, it cooks more evenly, and it helps the leg/thigh meat cook slightly faster than the rest which prevents the breast meat from drying out. Added bonus? Maximum amounts of crispy, salty skin, which is the primary reason we’re doing this anyway, am I right?

To properly spatchcock your chicken, you can do a little Youtube research and figure it out yourself, but I also highly recommend having your friendly neighborhood grocery store butcher do it for you. Grab a whole chicken of your choosing and toss it in his or her direction, then go about the rest of your shopping. By the time you’re ready to checkout, your chicken will be sans backbone and ready for cookin’ with little to no effort on your part.

You ready? OK, let’s do this.

Roast Chicken & Asparagus with Rhubarb Butter

You will need:

Roast Chicken
1 3 – 3 1/2 pound chicken, backbone removed
1 bunch fresh thyme
1 tablespoon olive oil
Kosher salt and freshly ground black pepper

Roast Asparagus
1 bunch asparagus, trimmed
1 tablespoon olive oil
Kosher salt and freshly ground black pepper
1 lemon, halved

Rhubarb Butter
1 stick unsalted butter, room temperature
1 stalk rhubarb, roughly chopped
Juice of one orange (or 1/4 cup orange juice)
2 tablespoons honey
1 tablespoon fresh ginger, finely grated

Kitchen Equipment: two rimmed baking sheets, small saucepan

With your chicken properly spatchcocked (I just can’t stop saying it), we’re ready to begin, so preheat your oven to 450 degrees.

First, spread out your chicken on a baking sheet skin side up and pat dry with a paper towel or two. A dry chicken is the best chicken and will lead to the crispiest skin; leave any moisture on the bird and the skin will steam in the oven, leaving you with a flabby mess. No one wants a flabby mess, so pat ‘er down good. Set aside to come to room temperature.

Now let’s turn our attention to the rhubarb butter. Chop your rhubarb and combine with the orange juice, honey and ginger in a small saucepan over medium heat. Cook stirring occasionally, until the rhubarb is soft, about 7-10 minutes. Drain the rhubarb in a small bowl and reserve the cooking liquid. Cool the cooked rhubarb before combining with the butter (I stuck mine in the freezer for a bit to save time). When properly cool, mix the rhubarb and the butter together until fully incorporated and the butter has a whipped consistency.

Now let’s get down to business. Grab the tray with your chicken and the rhubarb butter, and with clean hands, carefully slide a finger under the skin of each of the breasts, making two little pockets, then use a fingertip to gently loosen a pocket of skin on the outside of the thickest section of each thigh. Using a small spoon or your hands, insert some of the butter under the skin in each of the four pockets you’ve created. Use the skin to spread the butter evenly, adding more as necessary. Once the butter is applied, add a few sprigs of thyme into each pocket.

Rub the outside of the chicken with one tablespoon olive oil and season liberally with salt and pepper.

Place your seasoned chicken on the middle rack in your preheated oven, and cook until golden brown and crispy, about 40-45 minutes. A thermometer inserted into the thickest section of the thigh should read 165 degrees when the chicken is properly cooked.

Remove from oven and set aside under a tent of aluminum foil to rest.

While your chicken is resting, turn your oven down to 400 degrees.

Toss the asparagus with one tablespoon olive oil and season with salt and pepper. Spread in one layer on a baking sheet, and roast in the oven until bright green and slightly charred, about 10-12 minutes. Remove asparagus from the oven and transfer to a serving dish, squeezing a bit of lemon juice over the top for an added kick.

Serve your chicken table side and use the leftover rhubarb cooking liquid as a delicious jus. This dish is bright and tangy, perfect for a bottle of rosé, a bit of a Spring breeze and some good company. Get a little boozy and giggle mercilessly while shouting ‘spatchcock’ to the heavens. It will soon be one of your favorite words too.

Side note: grab a few extra stalks of rhubarb at the grocery store, make this rhubarb compote, and serve it over vanilla ice cream for dessert. BONKERS good. *immediately runs to the store to buy more rhubarb and vanilla ice cream*