Eggplant-Walnut Pâté + Passover Ideas

D's birthday falls on Passover this year, which means I can't get away with thrice-a-day matza brei as our only sustenance. For the first time in a long time, I will be cooking a meal on Passover in actual, non-disposable pans, and serving food to actual friends on actual plates. This small feat makes me feel like an actual grown-up. What that says about me, or the holiday, or both, is a conversation for another day. For now, we need to talk about our menus.

Were my birthday on Passover - and seriously, I love food too much for that to be the case, so phew for February birthdays - I'd probably want a big Greek salad, a plate full of avocado in different preparations, and a dessert made with no small quantity of egg yolks, cream, and chocolate. But this is D; not much of a dessert person, undying lover of meat. We'll be having brisket.

Our brisket is from KOL Foods, a purveyor of sustainable, grass-fed beef that also is kosher. The brisket's flavor is good enough -- and, considering the astronomical cost, rare enough in our house -- that I'm taking a minimalist's approach to cooking it. Instead of my usual pomegranate molasses recipe, I've settled on the famed approach of Nach Waxman. It's deceivingly simple: onions, tomato paste, and one carrot. But in my experience, no recipe celebrates the flavor of brisket more than his.

As for the rest of the meal, I'm planning to slow-roast a mess of red onions until they become sweet and soft. I'll also make a carrot kugel, because kugel is D's favorite, and it's her day.

But the brisket can't last forever (at least, not this brisket), and chocolate pudding/mousse/ice cream only gets us so far. Many of our other meals are likely to include a heaping scoop of this pâté. It's pictured here with sourdough. Of course, it's better on sourdough; everything's better on sourdough. But if matzah is your cracker (it's not bread, people), this pâté will make it taste like something, something delicious.

The method is simple: broil a mess of eggplant slices and a whole bulb of garlic. If you've got a food processor, you'll puree those with a bunch of ground walnuts, some raisins and capers, and a hit of cinnamon. If you don't, some patient knife work will yield a lovely caponata-style spread, which is less shmearable but, on the bright side, lets each component shine more independently.

Either way, on a holiday where hummus and peanut butter and bread (sob) are not on the menu, this does a lot to compensate.

Passover, previously:

• These pina colada-flavored macaroons are good. Not in a relative sense - I'd eat them not on Passover.
• Carrot kugel is an essential part of our Passover diet.
• Good weeknight supper? These twice-baked sweet potatoes should fit the bill.
• If you must make cookies, these chocolate ones are a great choice.
• Plenty of other ideas here.

Passover, elsewhere:

• Deb's mushroom pâté looks awesome.
• Passover desserts need not contain matzah/coconut/almond flour. I'll be making this flan at some point.
• This Persian-inspired frittata looks like a fantastic addition to my Passover lunch-for-company menu.
• For a show-stopper main dish at a vegetarian meal, this gorgeous cauliflower is my choice.

However you celebrate, whatever you celebrate, have a wonderful weekend.

Sweet-Tart Roasted Eggplant and Walnut Pâté
Serves 6-8 as an appetizer

2 large eggplants
4-5 tablespoons olive oil
salt and pepper
1 whole head garlic, unpeeled
1/2 cup raisins 1 tablespoon honey
1 1/2 cups walnut pieces
2 tablespoons capers (optional)
2-3 tablespoons lemon juice
pinch cinnamon
chopped pistachios, for garnish

Set a rack about 4-6 inches away from the broiler in your oven and preheat the broiler. Trim eggplants and slice 1/2-inch thick. Drizzle 1 tablespoon olive oil onto an unlined baking sheet; sprinkle a pinch or two of salt over the oil. Place eggplant slices in a single layer on the sheet (if they don’t all fit, you’ll broil them in batches). Drizzle a bit more of the oil and sprinkle salt onto the tops of each slice. Broil for about 5 minutes, moving pan around under the broiler to ensure that slices brown evenly. Turn slices and broil another 4-5 minutes, until nicely browned. Transfer to a plate, layering slices on top of each other. Repeat with remaining slices. When all eggplant has been broiled and piled into the plate, cover the plate with plastic wrap and let sit for at least 15 minutes, and as long as overnight. Eggplant will steam and soften as it cools.

Place whole garlic bulb under broiler (on the same pan as the eggplant, if there’s room) and broil for 10-12 minutes, until skin has blackened and garlic is soft. Tuck garlic bulb onto the plate with the eggplant and let it steam-cool as well.

Meanwhile, place raisins in a bowl with the honey and 2 tablespoons of water. Let them plump up while the eggplant and garlic cool.

Place walnuts into the bowl of a food processor fitted with the blade attachment, and grind until the texture resembles bread crumbs. Squeeze the contents of the broiled garlic bulb into the bowl, along with the eggplant, the raisins and their liquid, the capers (if using), the remaining tablespoon of olive oil, the cinnamon, and 2 tablespoons of the lemon juice. Pulse until eggplant has broken up, then blend until mostly smooth. Taste; add salt, pepper, and more lemon juice as needed.

Serve cold or at room temperature, with a drizzle of olive oil and maybe a few chopped pistachios on top.

Best Mushroom Pizza (or any white pie, really)

I've been on a bit of a library bender. Did you know you can borrow Kindle books from the library? Like, without leaving the house? I'm working my way through the Goldfinch and My Brilliant Friend. Both highly recommended. And, in case two books isn't enough to juggle, I'm also casually reading a real-life paperback copy of The Debt to Pleasure, a novel full of foodstuff. It's glorious. Here, from the instructions for a certain Russian pancake:

"When smoke starts to rise out of the pan add the batter in assured dollops, bearing in mind that each little dollop is to become a blini when it grows up, and that the quantities here are sufficient for six. Turn them over when bubbles appear on top. Serve the pancakes with sour cream and caviar. Sour cream is completely straightforward and if you need any advice or guidance about it then, for you, I feel only pity."

Further evidence of my many-books-at-a-time habit: I have three cookbooks checked out of the library, and as of last week, they were all piled on my nightstand. One is Jim Lahey's My Pizza, which I may have owned at one point but no longer do. It's almost due back at the library, so last weekend we had friends over and I put the cookbook to use at a pizza night. The momentous occasion here is not that I actually cooked from a book before returning it, though that gets honorable mention; what's really noteworthy is that, after many failures, a couple semi-successes, and much handwringing, I finally mastered white pizza.

Tomato pie lovers, take note: I am on your team. D is, too -- perhaps even more vehemently than I. We both are loyal to red pies. That's partly because we love tomatoes, but partly it's because white pies are often brittle, dry things with a heap of vegetables, but nothing to soften those vegetables and coax them into submission. More like flatbread than like pizza.

The answer, at least according to Jim Lahey? Embrace the genius of bechamel.

Bechamel is white pizza's answer to tomato sauce. It bridges the gap between crust and topping. Also -- dare I suggest it has an advantage over tomato? -- it gets bubbly and browned in the oven, adding more meltiness than mozzarella alone can provide. Under the scalding heat of my oven at its max, last Sunday's white pizzas became glorious, white-hot pillows cushioning piles of sliced mushrooms, garlic confit, and caramelized onions. Because the bechamel had less liquid than tomatoes, the underbelly of my white pies stayed impressively crisp.

The verdict was clear. Red pies still hold the special spot in our hearts, but bechamel-blanketed white pies now make the permanent roster, too.

If you're not a mushroom fan (weirdo), we also really loved the cauliflower version: chopped cauliflower, bits of green olive (the kind with pimentos, so throwback), lots of garlic confit and caramelized onions, and maybe a chopped anchovy or two.

With that, back to Passover cleaning.

Best Mushroom Pizza
Adapted from Jim Lahey's My Pizza
Makes 2 personal pizzas or 1 large (13 x 18 sheet pan) pizza

This is a pizza with several steps, but it more than rewards your patience.  In truth, the process won't take more than an afternoon; most of the prep work can be completed while the dough rises. We use a white flour dough for most pizzas around here, but these tomato-less pies respond particularly well to a whole wheat crust enriched with a bit of honey.

Dough:
250 grams (2 cups) all-purpose flour, plus more for shaping the dough
275 grams (1 3/4 cups) white whole wheat (or regular whole wheat) flour
1 gram (1/4 teaspoon) active dry yeast
16 grams (2 teaspoons) fine sea salt
350 grams (1 ½ cups) water

Bechamel:
243 grams (1 cup) whole milk
57 grams (1/2 stick) unsalted butter
9 grams (1 heaping tablespoon) all-purpose flour
1 grams (1/8 teaspoon) fine sea salt
3 rasp grates of nutmeg or a pinch of ground nutmeg

Garlic confit:
8 cloves garlic
1/4 cup olive oil
1/2 teaspoon salt

Caramelized onions:
1 onion, halved and sliced into rings
1 tablespoon butter
1/2 teaspoon salt

Toppings:
20 grams (6 tablespoons) grated Parmigiano Reggiano cheese
100 grams fresh mozzarella, pulled into small clumps
300 grams (10.5 ounces) mixed sliced mushrooms (we used shiitake, cremini, and oyster)
1 recipe garlic confit
1 recipe caramelized onions
1 recipe bechamel

Make dough: Combine flours, salt, and yeast in a medium mixing bowl. Add water and honey, and stir with a fork to combine. (Everyone else uses a wooden spoon, but I don’t get it – everything sticks to wood.) Cover the bowl with plastic wrap or a kitchen towel, and set aside in a warm, draft-free spot for about 18 hours, until the dough has doubled in volume. This will take less time in a very warm spot and more time in a cold spot.

Lightly flour a work surface and turn dough onto floured surface. Divide in half, and shape each half into a ball, by lightly stretching the four sides of each piece out and back into the center of the ball, one by one, helping build surface tension in the dough. Then shape each piece into a ball, and turn seam-side down onto the work surface. If dough is sticky, dust each with a bit more flour.

Cover with a damp cloth and let rest for at least an hour while you assemble the fillings, or wrap the balls individually in plastic and refrigerate for up to 3 days. If refrigerating, return to room temperature by leaving them out on the counter, covered in a damp cloth, for 2 to 3 hours before needed.

Make bechamel while dough rises: In a small saucepan, melt butter over medium heat until it foams. Add flour, and stir until flour and butter are fully combined but flour has not started to brown. Add milk in a slow stream, whisking to combine it with the roux. It will start to thicken slightly as it heats up; continue stirring to prevent clumps. When milk is the thickness of heavy cream, add salt and nutmeg, give a good stir, and remove from the heat. It will continue to thicken as it cools. By the time it’s fully cool and ready to go on pie, it will be almost shmearable.

Make garlic confit: In a small saucepan, combine garlic, olive oil, and salt over medium-low heat. Garlic should sizzle lightly; if it looks like it’s starting to brown too quickly, turn down the heat. Cook for 10-15 minutes, until cloves are soft and lightly golden. Set aside to cool.

Make caramelized onions: Peel onions, halve them from pole to pole, and slice into thin half-rings. Pile the onions into a large shallow skillet that has a lid. Turn the heat to medium and add the butter and salt. When the onions start making those wonderful sizzling noises, give the onions a good stir, reduce the heat to low, and cover the pan. After 20 minutes, check the onions. They should have sweated down considerably to the point where they are very soft and possibly turning tan. Cook the onions 5-10 more minutes uncovered, stirring occasionally to prevent sticking and ensure even cooking. Remove from heat and set aside.

Assemble and bake pizzas: If using a pizza stone, place in whatever part of your oven contains the heat: in my gas oven, the heat comes from the bottom so I put my stone in the bottom third of the oven. Preheat oven as high as it will go (for me, that’s 550 degrees F).

If using a stone, dust your peel with semolina or flour. Take one ball of dough, and gently stretch it, slowly and deliberately, until it is 9-11 inches across. Set the disk onto your peel; working quickly, spoon the béchamel over the surface and spread it evenly, leaving about an inch of the rim untouched. Sprinkle the surface with Parmigiano. Distribute mozzarella clumps, mushroom slices, bits of the garlic confit, and caramelized onions over the surface. Sprinkle a bit more Parmigiano on top.

Use a quick, jerking motion to transfer the dough from peel to stone. Bake 6-8 minutes, until pizza is bubbling and golden brown. Use peel or a very large flat spatula to remove pizza from oven. Slice and serve immediately.

If using a metal sheet pan, drizzle sheet pan with olive oil, transfer the dough onto the pan, and slowly and deliberately spread the dough until it mostly fills the sheet pan. This may take time; if the dough tenses up, let it rest for 10 minutes or so and it will relax and be ready for spreading. Once dough mostly fills the pan, distribute ingredients as described above.

Bake pan pizza for 7-10 minutes, until brown and bubbly. Remove, slice into squares, and serve immediately.

Chocolate Walnut Marmalade Tart

Guys, tomorrow is Pi Day. Not just any Pi Day, but the Most Exciting Pi Day Ever: 3.14.15. If you eat this pie at 9:26:54 in the evening (or hey, the morning - pie for breakfast!), you are an absolute nerd and I love you for eternity.

1-walnut tart

If you don't make this in honor of Pi Day, you should make it because it's amazing. As I hinted in an Instagram post a couple weeks back, I think this is the best tart I've ever made. The picture at the top of the post is a glamour shot of the single sliver that remained we gorged ourselves on it all weekend.

"But it's a tart, not a pie!" True, true. The first time, I made it in a tart pan, and it was glorious. But I knew I wanted to post it for Pi Day, so to please all you literalists, I made it in a pie dish this time around. The filling didn't cook as evenly (you can see that in the photo below), but it's still a winner.

Chocolate, ground walnuts, thick dark honey, and lots of marmalade - this tart is no shrinking violet. But as good as the flavor is, it's texture that really distinguishes it: like custard, maybe slightly more set, it's smooth and silky, and has just enough chew that I guarantee, you won't be able to stop at one piece. Sorry, not sorry.

Chocolate Walnut Marmalade Tart
Adapted from Nigel Slater’s Ripe

I made this in tart pans and pie pans. I like the version in a tart pan better, but both work.

Crust:

1 1/2 cups flour
1/2 cup powdered sugar
9 tablespoons cold unsalted butter, cubed
1 egg

Filling:

10.5 tablespoons (150 grams) unsalted butter
5 ounces (140 grams) bittersweet chocolate, chopped
2/3 cup (215 grams) orange marmalade
1/4 cup (85 grams) honey, preferably dark
1/4 cup (60 grams) sugar
1/4 cup (80 ml) heavy cream
1 cup (100 grams) walnuts, ground
1 egg

Make the crust: In the bowl of a food processor, pulse flour, powdered sugar, and butter until the butter is in pea-sized pieces. Add egg, and pulse several times, until the mixture starts to form small clumps, then larger clumps, and the flour disappears. Dump the mixture onto a piece of plastic wrap, bring together into a single mass, wrap up the dough, and shape into a disk. Refrigerate 1 hour.

Make the filling: Melt butter and chocolate together in the microwave or over medium-low heat, stirring at regular intervals, until completely smooth. Add marmalade, honey, sugar, and cream; stir to combine. Add egg and mix until fully incorporated. Add walnuts and mix until evenly distributed.

Shape crust: Roll the dough out into a 12-inch circle. Fold dough gently in quarters without creasing and transfer to a 9-inch tart pan. Unfold the quartered dough, setting it gently into the pan, and press gently into the bottom and sides of the pan, trying to keep things as even as possible.  

Blind-bake crust: Preheat the oven to 375 degrees F. Line the crust with a layer of tin foil, and fill with pie weights or uncooked beans (I have a set I keep specifically for this purpose, since you can’t cook the beans after using them as pie weights.) Bake for 20 minutes. Carefully remove foil and weights/ beans, set on a rack or tray, and let cool completely before filling.

Fill and bake crust: Fill crust with enough filling so to leave about a 1/2-inch worth of empty space in the tart shell. (If you have both extra tart dough and extra filling, you can bake off a few tartlettes.) Bake for 30-35 minutes, rotating half way through baking if your oven heats unevenly. The tart is done when it is only slightly wobbly right in the center of the tart; lots of ripply wobbles probably mean it needs more time.

Serve: Let the tart cool completely (about 1 hour) before serving. Serve with spoonfuls of whipped cream or creme fraiche.

Extra keeps for about a week tightly wrapped, but c’mon – you won’t have extra.

Lentils and Rice with Tamarind Sauce and Dukkah

As someone who rarely eats meat and almost never makes it to the fishmonger, I'm always on the lookout for vegetarian main dishes that don't just feel large side dishes. Mujadarra is one of my favorites: basmati rice, Puy lentils, and lots of spiced yogurt for serving and scooping.

This here is another rice+lentils creation, the idea for which came from a couple of Food52 recipes. The first is a pistachio dukkah, which I've had my eye on for a while; do you know all about dukkah already? It's pretty new to me, and altogether delightful: a combination of nuts, seeds, and spices that's technically a condiment but very easily slips into savory granola territory. The Food52 folks warned me that I might shovel this stuff straight into my mouth, and that's pretty much what happened. Fortunately, I made a double batch.

1-DSC_1159

The other recipe was for lentils and rice with tamarind sauce, which rather ingeniously called for tempering nigella seeds before mixing them with tamarind paste. Nigella seeds are a favorite discovery from my time living in Jerusalem: their flavor is subtle, a bit like caraway but less severe and more mysterious. I don't use them nearly enough.

Combined, these two recipes became a pretty magical vegetarian main: a pile of rice and lentils drizzled with tamarind sauce, sprinkled with crunchy dukkah, and served with a scoop of yogurt. It'd be great alongside curried tofu or salmon with Indian spices, but it's substantial and interesting enough to stand on its own.

In other news, our kitchen is finally finished; I can't wait to share pictures now that it's ready for its glamour shot. Stay tuned.

And looking through photos for this post, I realized that I managed to make a rather astonishing amount of food while the kitchen project was underway. I owe you homemade chilaquiles (with homemade tortilla chips that are easy, really!), a walnut cake, and the best chocolate tart I've ever made, scouts' honor. Let's get to it.

Lentils and Rice with Dukkah and Tamarind Sauce
Adapted from a couple recipes on Food52
Serves 4 as a main, 6 as a side

For the rice and lentils:
1 1/2 cups (scant 10 oz.) brown rice
1 cup (7 oz.) green lentils

For the sauce:
2 tablespoons coconut oil (or substitute vegetable oil or ghee)
1 tablespoon nigella seeds
1/4 cup tamarind puree
3 teaspoons brown sugar
1/2 teaspoon salt

For the dukkah:
3 tablespoons coriander seeds
1 tablespoon cumin seeds
1/2 cup shelled pistachio nuts
1/4 cup sesame seeds
3 tablespoons unsweetened shredded coconut
1 teaspoon sea salt
1/2 teaspoon freshly cracked black pepper

For serving:
Yogurt
Chopped cilantro, fennel fronds, minced chives, or another green herb

Make rice and lentils: Fill a large pot with water, add a big pinch of salt, and bring to a boil over high heat. Add rice, and cook for 35-40 minutes, until rice is cooked through but retains its bite. 10 minutes into the cooking time, add lentils; the two should be done at about the same time. Drain and set aside.

Make the dukkah: Toast coriander and cumin seeds in a small skillet over medium heat until fragrant, about 2 minutes. Allow spices to cool completely before transferring to a spice grinder or mortar and pestle and grinding. Transfer ground spices to a mixing bowl.

Meanwhile, roast nuts in the same small skillet until golden, about 5 minutes. Transfer to a cutting board and finely chop. Transfer to mixing bowl. Add sesame seeds to the skillet and toast until golden brown, about 2 minutes, then transfer to mixing bowl. Finally, toast coconut in the skillet, stirring constantly until golden, about 2 minutes. Add to mixing bowl. Add salt and pepper, and adjust spices/s&p as needed.

Make sauce: In the same skillet, heat oil over medium heat. Add nigella seeds and cook for about 1 minute; they might sputter a bit, so be careful. Remove from heat. Add tamarind puree and brown sugar (again, might sputter), stirring to combine. Add salt and combine. Taste and adjust salt/sugar as needed.

To serve: Scoop a portion of rice and lentils onto a plate. Drizzle with a spoonful of tamarind sauce, sprinkle with dukkah, and top with a dollop of yogurt and a pinch of herbs.