Recipes: Main Dishes

Why is that Americans come over all queasy when discussing the glory that is haggis? After all, despite the most famous living Scotsman, Groundskeeper Willie, exhorting America’s youth to sample its delights ("Get yer haggis, right here! Chopped heart and lungs boiled in a wee sheep's stomach! Tastes as good as it sounds. Good for what ails ya!") it seems that popular prejudice against thGroundskeeper Willie: big fan of haggis, not so much Leviticus 11e “great Chieftain o’the puddin-race” is alive and well Stateside. Did I say prejudice? Call it discrimination: Scottish haggis is, outrageously, banned from the US on account of those delicious wee bits of lung and some nonsense about mad cows. So no haggis lasagne or haggis nachos for you guys, unfortunately, unless you make it yourself.

Of course, there’s another problem with haggis: It’s not terribly kosher. Leviticus 11 specifically names the haggis as – okay, that’s not quite true. Actually, even if you do keep strict kosher, most of the ingredients in the traditional haggis recipe are not inherently trayf – after all, I’m told it’s very similar to kishka - and if you journey to Scotland it’s not that difficult to find kosher haggis. Unsurprisingly, though, there’s not a big market in the US for properly kashered sheep’s stomach, let alone the regular variety, so you'd be forgiven for thinking that you may never sample the delights of this majestic dish.

But as we approach January 25^th, the annual night dedicated to Scotland’s national poet Rabbie Burns (who penned a famous ode to the national dish), I figure: Why should Rabbi Burns miss out? Here, then, is a recipe for kosher haggis - or haggisim, if you will. Go on, try it!

Ingredients:
1 clootie (means a little cloth). A clean linen dish towel will do.
2 lb. dry oatmeal
1 lb. chopped mutton fat, rendered, or suet, which is the cleanest fat on the animal's body.
1 to 1 1/2 lb. lamb or venison liver, boiled and minced
Small quantity stock (lamb by preference)
1 large chopped onion
1/2 tsp. cayenne pepper
1/2 tsp. allspice
1/2 tsp. salt
1/2 tsp. pepper
2 tbsps soy sauce or suitable substitute

Instructions:
Toast oatmeal slowly until golden brown.
Mix all ingredients (except clootie) together; add stock until soft.
Fill clootie to just over half full, press out air, sew up securely with needle and thread.
Have ready a large pot of boiling water.
Boil slowly for 4 to 5 hours, ensuring haggis remains covered with water.
Serve with “bashed neeps” (swede) and “tatties” (potato).

And, of course, a good Scotch Whiskey.

[Recipe from the Capital Scot]

With Tu B'Shevat fast approaching, it's time to start planning those seders. What? You weren't planning a seder? What are you, some kind of tree-hater? Seder-hater? Don't be a seder-haterDon't be a hater, dude. Tu B'Shevat is a perfect opportunity to invite your pals over for four glasses of wine and some fruit and nuts. While you're at it, you might want to feed them something a little bit more substantial. You know--so that they can handle all that wine. I suggest starting with this delightful Broccoli-Potato soup. It's from Isa and Terry's latest cookbook, Veganomicon, and it's a party for your taste buds and your buds' taste buds, too.

Have a recipe of your own that's perfect for the tree-hugging holiday of Tu B'Shevat? Don't be shy: Post it in comments, and we'll pick our favorite to use for next week's Tuesday Taste Test.

Broccoli-Potato Soup with Fresh Herbs
Serves 6 to 8
Time: 50 Minutes

2 tablespoons olive oil
1 medium sized onion, cut into ¼ inch dice
3 cloves garlic, minced
½ teaspoon dried tarragon
Several pinches of freshly ground black pepper
1 teaspoon salt
6 cups vegetable stock, or 4 cups veggie stock plus 2 cups water, whatever
2 pounds potatoes, peeled and cut into ½-inch chunks
4 cups chopped broccoli (including the stalks: chop them into thin slices, and the tops into small florets)
¼ cup chopped fresh dill
¼ cup chopped fresh mint

HEAT A soup pot over medium heat. Sauté the onion in the olive oil for 5 to 7 minutes, until softened. Add the garlic, tarragon, black pepper, and salt, and cook for 1 more minute. Pour in the vegetable stock and add the potatoes. Cover and bring to a boil. Once the soup is boiling, lower the heat and let simmer for 15 minutes. Add the broccoli and cook for 15 more minutes.

Use an immersion blender to blend about one-third of the soup; we like to keep it chunky with lots of whole potato chunks. If you don’t have an immersion blender (get one!), transfer about one-third of the soup to a blender or food processor and puree, then add it back to the rest of the soup.

Add the fresh dill and mint, then let the soup sit for about 10 minutes to let the flavors meld. Serve!

(x-posted at The Jew & The Carrot)

I recently bought one of those beautiful, amazing Le Creuset Dutch ovens (Bloomingdale's was having a home sale), and I am newly obsessed with those Empire Kosher whole cut-up chickens (how convenient/delicious are they??), so I decided to try out one of the Amateur Gourmet recipes I'd been thinking about for a while: Chicken with 40 Cloves of Garlic, which Adam Roberts made for his reluctant Jewish family in Florida.

It was the perfect meal to christen my new cookware with, and it's great to serve a crowd during the holidays (provided they like garlic, of course). But the garlic in here is so yummy, the cloves just melt in your mouth. The cognac and cream richen the dish (substitute nondairy creamer to kosherize it). I could give you the recipe here but might as well direct you to Adam's fabulous step-by-step, with mouthwatering pictures of every single detail. (I think we have the same Dutch oven!) 

The first time I made this recipe, I used (gasp!) pork sausage. My boyfriend and I had recently moved in together. He took a few bites, chewed thoughtfully, and said, "You know, you shouldn't cook pork." "Huh?" (No idea what he was talking about.)

This launched a whole convoluted discussion about keeping kosher. He grew up in a kosher household (although they sometimes ordered pepperoni pizza and ate it on paper plates), and wanted us to do the same. Ha! I had never heard something so preposterous in my life!

Ah, compromise. As anyone will tell you, it's the key to a functional relationship. Or, as my now-fiance says, "Neither party is happy." But I think we've reached a good compromise in our house, where we're both happy. While we cook any number of cheeseburgers, shellfish, chicken parmesan, etc., there's no pork allowed in our house (unless it's pepperoni pizza--which we actually eat on real plates).

So now I make this pasta with turkey sausage, and it's every bit as good (well, almost). This is one of my all-time favorite recipes, perfect for fall. I use cream (because that's allowed), but you can leave it out, or substitute a little nondairy creamer.

This was a new-to-me recipe that came out incredibly well and really wowed the guests. Big hit!

I was persuing New York magazine's "best new burgers" list the other day and paused at what was described as a "drippy lamb-and-beef burger" on Prune's lunch menu. Mmmm...drippy sounds delicious, I thought.

Then, a couple days later, I was flipping through my Rachael Ray 30-Minute Meals cookbook (i know, i know, but I secretly love her), and I came across a recipe for lamb-and-beef burgers called (what else?) "Shish-Ka-Burgers."

God is trying to tell me something, I thought.

Prune's drippy lamb-and-beef burgerThis got me wondering about lamb. Specifically, why I'd never even considered cooking it before now, why I couldn't recall ever having eaten it at anyone's house, and why I'd probably only tasted it once or twice off someone else's plate.

Furthermore, I thought, why don't American Jews eat more lamb? What about that passage in the Bible, the one about the paschal lamb, Exodus 12, to be exact:

 Speak ye unto all the congregation of Israel, saying, In the tenth day of this month they shall take to them every man a lamb, according to the house of their fathers, a lamb for a house:

 And if the household be too little for the lamb, let him and his neighbour next unto his house take it according to the number of the souls; every man according to his eating shall make your count for the lamb.

(And on and on) Lamb being such a symbolic food for Jews, you'd think that it would be a traditional Jewish dish all around, right up there with brisket and tzimmes and matzoh ball soup. But, while Sephardic Jews tend to eat a lot of lamb, Ashkenazic Jews don't.

I turned to the lamb section of How to Cook Everything to see what Mark Bittman had to say about it:

...demand for lamb has never been high, nor have prices, so producers have had little incentive to "rationalize" production--that is, to make it factory-like, as they have with beef and pork. 

He goes on to say:

...because lamb is so small...many cuts contain several muscles, meaning you get a variety of tastes and textures, an unusual pleasure.

Too cute to eat?Well, this is all sounded good to me. I felt that I may have just stumbled upon a well-kept secret and was about to discover a new meat that would transform my life. But there had to be a catch. There had to be a reason why more Americans don't eat lamb, why they don't sell lamb at my local grocery store.

I decided to start with the Rachael Ray recipe. Not only did it mirror the burger I came across on the "best new burgers" list by being both lamb and beef, it seemed a pretty tame way to introduce myself to lamb.

Rachael's recipe is simple:  

Combine ½ lb lamb, ½ lb beef, 2 cloves minced garlic, and 4 shakes of Worcestershire sauce. Form into four patties. Sprinkle with salt and pepper and grill for 5 to 6 minutes on each side. Top with sliced, grilled green pepper, onion, and portobello mushroom (that's the shish-ka-bob part). You could also make these in a skillet and cook them for less time on each side, and I think topping them with a dollop of Greek-style yogurt would be nice, maybe mix some fresh chopped mint in there.

The verdict? The burgers were definitely "drippy." They were incredibly juicy and I really did enjoy the lamb flavor in there with the beef. Would I make them again? I'm not sure. There's still something about lamb that I just don't love. It could be that it's a little bit gamey, could be that I just didn't grow up eating it, or maybe I just can't get the image of cute lil' Lambchop out of my head.

New York Magazine's irreverant food blog, Grub Street, recently confirmed that celebrity chef Gordon Ramsay is a pompous bloke.  Grub Street reports: 

"The Surly Scotchman actually presumed on national television to teach Larry King how to schmear a bagel."  [Full story here]

Everything in its proper placeNow as a vegetarian, I admit I can't technically quibble with Ramsay's insistence on Scottish salmon over the traditional Nova lox.  But I am a foodie and a Jew, damnit, and like Larry King I don't need no fancy pants kitchen genius to tell me from bagels.  A worthy bagel includes some combination of the words "everything" "full-fat cream cheese" "tomato," "red onion," "capers," and - if you're into that sort of thing, "lox" (go with the Nova just to be safe). 

If you're feeling in the mood for something a bit unconventional, try the best bagel sandwich (below).  And the next time you have a celebri-chef advising you how to schmear, take it for what it is: a "hole" lot of crap.

Best Bagel Sandwich

Start with a decent everything or sesame bagel - avoid the bready, supersized kind that for some ungodly reason are popular these days.  The best bagels are simultaneously soft and dense and slightly sweet.  If you can get your hands on a warm dozen from St. Viateur in Montreal, you're in luck, but H&H in New York will also do the trick.  If you live in Nebraska, I suggest buying online...as a local food advocate, I'm not usually into shipping food long distances, but for a good bagel, I'd make a rare exception.

Toasting bagels and spreading them with cream cheese is generally a bad idea unless you're into what Grub Street defines as "disgusting and runny" cream cheese.  In this case however, you will want to toast your bagel until it's lightly browned.

Schmear one side of your bagel with a thin layer of butter or, better yet, Earth Balance which magically manages to capture the essence of butter even better than it's authentic counterpart.  On top of the butter/EB, sprinkle about 1 1/2 teaspoons of nutritional yeast (unfortunately named, but utterly delicious ).

Find the reddest tomato possible (if it's the dead of winter and the tomatoes are all mealy and pink, you might want to wait until summer), slice thinly and layer on top of the butter.  Sprinkle tomato with sea salt and fresh pepper.

On the other half, spread about 1 1/2 Tablespoons of fresh basil pesto.  Press both bagel halves together and enjoy. 

The toasted bagel itself gives this ambrosia-sandwich some crunch, but if you like a little more crispness in a sandwich, you can add slices of red fresh red pepper or cucumber. 

Syrian Stuffed Cabbage: so sweet, so sourAs was previously noted by the clever Dale Raben, traditional Sukkot dishes are filled foods, like stuffed vegetables, which symbolize a bountiful harvest. Also common are dishes that are easy to transport from kitchen to sukkah, such as casseroles. Hence, my offering for this year's Sukkot Shabbat: Syrian Sweet-and-Sour Stuffed Cabbage. Healthy and delicious, this dish is full of complimentary flavors. The savory stuffing is made with home-soaked chickpeas, long-grain rice, and fresh cilantro, mint, and parsley. The sweet-and-sour, tomato-based sauce includes fresh lemon juice, lekvar, and raisins.

Mon Cuisine: Vegetarian Stuffed CabbageGrowing up, stuffed cabbage was an Ashkenazic meat dish, so when I embraced vegetarianism, it seemed as though I was out of luck. At some point I discovered Mon Cuisine's meatless version, which proved to be a surprisingly satisfactory substitute. Made with soy protein and brown rice, the frozen entrée sufficed until I went totally vegan. Because it's made with egg white powder, I had to cross it off my shopping list.

I set out on a holy quest to find a totally tasty, veritably vegan recipe, and it wasn't long before I made the happy discovery that Sephardim use various vegetarian fillings in their stuffed cabbage dishes. Bingo! Thank you, Sephardim! The recipe that follows, Syrian Sweet-and-Sour Stuffed Cabbage, is from Olive Trees and Honey: A Treasury of Vegetarian Recipes from Jewish Communities Around the World, by Gil Marks.

Congratulations!  You’ve finally found your bashert.  You are so in love and a perfect match in every way – except that he’s shomer Shabbat and you can’t wake up without Saturday morning cartoons.  Or you don’t eat at non-kosher restaurants, while she routinely heads to Burger King to soothe her cheeseburger fix.  Welcome to the strange world of Jewish dating – a land where two people of the same faith can be religiously miles apart.  Luckily, there’s one thing that all Jews can agree on – food…or so I thought.

In my own pluralistic Jewish relationship, the subject of cheese has become a surprisingly contentious topic.   In one corner we have a farmers’ market shopping, microwave shunning, organic loving food snob (me).  In the other corner we have my kosher-keeping, bachelor-kitchen owning boyfriend.  Like any good foodie, I’m rather obsessed with good cheese – the stinky, artisanal stuff that evokes that elusive food sense, umami.  My boyfriend also likes good cheese, but if confronted with the choice between the non-kosher aged cheddar and a slice of highly processed kosher cheese from Miller’s, he’ll invariably pick door number two.

The problem is, Miller Cheese makes me want to start throwing things.  Honestly, if you have to dig through three layers of plastic to unearth a flavorless orange brick, why bother with cheese at all?  Our disagreement certainly isn’t the stuff of breakups, but soon after we started dating, finding a happy cheese medium with my boyfriend became a high priority on my list.   

Enter 5-Spoke Creamery.  According to their website (and also to owners Barbara and Alan, whom I met recently at their vendor booth at Jewzapalooza), all of their cheeses are made by hand from the raw milk [swoon] of grass-fed [double swoon]
Holstein cows, are pesticide and hormone free,” and (and!!) “are kosher certified Kof-K.”

PestoliciousToo good to be true?  After trying their Redmond Cheddar and Herbal Jack (a mix of chives and garlic), I’m a believer.  It had the "real cheese" flavor that I love and the legit certification that my boyfriend needs.  I like it so much, I decided to create a celebratory dish to honor the company that brought cheesy harmony to my pluralistic relationship. 

5-Spoke Pasta with Cheese with Arugula Pesto
Serves 4

*Serve this dish with a green salad and, if you're trying to woo someone, a bottle of dry red wine (see The Jew & The Carrot's wine list for delicious, kosher, organic suggestions.)

Pasta
1 package of dry or fresh pasta (macaroni, spirals, shells, penne etc.)

Cheese sauce
1 1/2 cups shredded (or cubed) Redmond Cheddar from 5-Spoke Creamery
1/3-2/3 cup milk
2 Tbs unsalted butter
½ tsp mustard powder
pinch of nutmeg

Pesto
1 large bunch fresh basil
1 bunch fresh arugula (fresh spinach works too, and will yield a more subtle pesto)
2-3 garlic cloves, with skins removed and roughly chopped
½ cup toasted pine nuts  http://www.fitnessandfreebies.com/food/cooking/pine_nuts.html
Olive oil, salt, and pepper to taste

Directions
Start with the pesto.  Thoroughly wash the argula and basil, removing all grit and sand.  Remove basil leaves from stems.  Roughly chop together with the arugula on a cutting board.  Add all the greens to a food processor (a blender works too, but not as well).  Add the garlic cloves and toasted pine nuts and pulse in food processor until roughly combined.  Add in olive oil, about 4 tablespoons at a time, continuing to pulse the food processor between each addition until the mixture turns into a paste.  Add salt and pepper and blend once more.  Scoop 2/3 cup into a bowl and set aside.  Put the remaining pesto into a Tupperware and freeze it for an easy pasta sauce or sandwich spread later.

Make the pasta.  Fill a quart-sized pot with water.  Add a shake of salt and a drop of oil to the water and set to boil.  Once boiled, cook pasta according to directions on box.  Drain, set aside in a large bowl.

Meanwhile, make the cheese sauce.  Melt the butter in a sauce pan over low-med heat.  As soon as it melts (before it gets brown and bubbly!) add the milk and stir to combine.  Add ½ the cheese and stir frequently, until melted.  Add the rest of the cheese, the nutmeg and the mustard powder and continue stirring, adjusting the sauce with more milk or cheese, if necessary, until you get the desired thickness.

Pour hot cheese sauce and pesto over the pasta and stir to coat.