Moroccan Salmon with Curried Yogurt

Though it doesn't appear very often on this site, fish -- salmon in particular -- is a staple in the NDP kitchen. I like it because it's a substantial cornerstone of a meal without being as heavy as meat often is. I frequently host lunch on Saturdays, and I almost always cook for these lunches in advance; salmon can be served cold with a dipping sauce, obviating the need to carefully par-bake it before reheating the next day to serve. Also, it's delicious.

Last year, I frequently cooked fish "en papillote," each filet wrapped with care in its own little parcel of parchment paper. It's a very healthful way of cooking fish, in its own juices and little else. Sometimes I'd add slivers of thai bird chillies or slices of peach, but the method was always the same. This year, I'm planning to broil my fish more often. That little spot at the bottom of my oven doesn't get enough airtime, and considering its ability to make sugar into caramel and turn anything that beautiful shade of brown, it really should.

The method here couldn't be simpler. Clean the salmon and slice into individual servings (or don't, if you prefer the drama of bring a long side of salmon to the table). Season generously with salt and just about anything else. My favorite of late is Ras El Hanout, a Moroccan spice blend of nutmeg, mace, cloves, black pepper, saffron, and more (recipe below), that's mellow but still intensely flavorful. Salmon has plenty of natural fat, so drizzling oil over the fillets is optional. Either way, tuck it under the broiler for about 15 minutes, until it's just cooked through.

When it comes to serving the salmon, serve warm or chilled, and offer plenty of lemon slices. I also served a super-easy curried yogurt that comes together in a jiffy. I used a spice blend called Hawaij, a Yemenite blend of cumin, tumeric, cloves, black pepper, and more. I've included the recipe below, but you could also use a curry powder or a different spice blend.

Moroccan Salmon with Curried Yogurt serves 4

For the Ras El Hanout:

2 teaspoons ground nutmeg 1 teaspoon salt 1 teaspoon ground ginger 3/4 teaspoon ground black pepper 1/2 teaspoon ground mace 1/2 teaspoon ground allspice 1/4 teaspoon ground cinnamon 1/4 teaspoon crushed saffron threads

Blend in spice blender. Best if used within a week.

For the Salmon:

Preheat the broiler. Slice salmon into individual portions, if desired, and transfer to broiler-safe baking sheet or 9x13 pan. Season generously with salt and about 5 tablespoons of a dry spice mixture. Drizzle lightly with olive oil or dot with butter, if desired. Place salmon underneath broiler about 7 minutes, until top is browned. Transfer to oven and lower heat to 400; bake another 7-9 minutes, until salmon is fully cooked.

For the Hawaij:

6 1/2 tablespoons black peppercorns 1/4 cup cumin seed 2 1/2 tablespoons coriander seeds 1 1/2 tablespoons green cardamom pods 1 1/2 teaspoons whole cloves 3 1/2 tablespoons ground turmeric

Blend. Add two tablespoons to 1 cup yogurt and stir to combine.

Sardine and Fava Bean Bruschetta

I can't remember if I've ever written a love song to favas on this blog. I mean, I've written about them, but I probably haven't sung their praises as much as they deserve. Starting in late May, I bother the farmers at my local market every Sunday, trying to subtly nudge them to pick their favas as soon as they're ready so I can dig in. The first few weeks, I'm met with transparently frustrated replies of "they're not ready, lady!" but around the second week in June, out they come. From them on, you'll find me and my tote bags by the fava bin. That's right.

Favas come double-wrapped, so to speak; they're tucked in a waxy coating that's nestled inside a pod. To eat favas, you pop open the pods, scoop out and blanch the beans, and then remove the outer shell. Work intensive? Yea, but you won't find me complainin'. Favas are sweet and green and, with a little salt and not much else, the delicious essence of early summer.

While I usually just toss my favas in a salad or mix them with some pasta and other vegetables, I also really like fava bean spread. Mine is smooth enough to spread but still quite chunky, and laced with a whole lot of garlic and a squeeze of lemon. If I don't finish it all before using it, I'll spread it on a baguette and eat it just so. Or, if I'm really feelin' it, I'll top my bruschetta with some vinegar-and-oil-cured sardine fillets. The idea came to me from an Epicurious recipe for cannellini and sardine bruschetta. I love cannellini, but I don't stock my pantry with dry or canned beans when fresh ones are so readily available during the summer, so I subbed in favas for the cannellini the recipe called for. The combination worked perfectly: the headiness of the garlicy fava spread stood up well to the sardines, which added just the right amount of richness and tang. Toasted baguette, more than a vehicle, was crunchy and light, a fine contrast for the favas and sardines perched atop it. I finished off the bruschetta simply, with a bit of olive oil and a grind of the pepper mill. It didn't need much else.

The fact that I've managed to get this far without begging ya'll not to hate sardines is a testament only to how silly I think sardine-squeamishness really is. Sardines are awesome; their flavor is strong and pungent, they're a bit oily and somewhat tangy, they're packed with omega-3s, and really, they're delicious. If you hate'em, be that way. If not, welcome to my club. Enjoy your stay. Want some sardine and fava bean bruschetta?

Sardine and Fava Bean Bruschetta inspired by a recipe from Gourmet

1/4 lb. sardines, oil-packed or salt-packed are fine (if salt packed, be sure to rinse thoroughly) (1 tin sardines will be plenty) 4 lbs. fava beans, shelled, blanched, and peeled (see here for instructions) 2 cloves garlic 2 Tbsp. lemon juice salt and pepper 1 baguette olive oil

Slice baguette on sharp bias into 1 3/4-inch slices and set aside. On a cutting board, chop garlic into small pieces. Add a sprinkle of salt; using a very sharp knife, drag the blade toward you across the garlic, mashing it and the salt with the side of your knife. Keep dragging and regathering the garlic until it resembles a pretty smooth paste. Add favas. Continue this motion until favas have been pretty mashed with the garlic, and the whole thing looks smooth enough to spread but still fairly chunky. Scoop up and put into a medium sized bowl. Add salt and lemon juice and mash up with a fork to incorporate. Add salt to taste.

Toast baguettes until golden. Cool five minutes on a rack, then plate and spread with some of the fava spread. Top with 2 fillets of sardines, a glug of olive oil, and a grind of the pepper mill. Serve just so.

Summer vegetable (and fish) stew

If you're anything like me, your fridge is swimming with zucchini and corn, your counters teeming with beautiful tomatoes. Not that I'm complaining, mind you -- I wouldn't dare, with summer produce this close to done -- I'm just saying, I've got three bumper crops and I don't even have a garden. What's a girl to do?

Not fret, that's for sure. I've found countless] great sources for ideas to use up the big three. Not to mention the inner-workings of my own crazy imagination...which led to this summer vegetable (and fish) stew. The fish in () because it's optional. (Not that everything in this recipe isn't optional -- hell, you could change the stew entirely for all I care -- but I've been told by my friends that I need to be more assertive and instructive, less "just do what you want"ish. I'm trying.) You want to know a secret? I didn't plan on making this a fish stew at all. I planned on making braised zucchini-ratatouille dish, then pan-frying some turbot fillets and laying them nicely on top. All went as planned, until I flipped my fillets (which were doing beautifully in a generous helping of browned butter). I'd hoped for them to have a nice, crisp browned crust, but instead the grains had separated and stuck to the bottom of the pan and it didn't look pretty at all. For your sake -- so that you wouldn't have to look at a picture of a yummy-ugly dish -- I took the ratatouille, tossed it right back in the pan, and started spearing the fillets with my spatula to break them up a bit. As I finished them off in the ratatouille, they started to break down a bit, forming a nice-looking stew. I served the stew (to myself and D) with a slice of good, crusty sourdough, which proved ideal for mopping up the juices at the bottom of my bowl. What started as a mistake ended...quite nicely, if you ask me.

I also want to take a moment and pay homage to the humble celery. I often hate on celery, having disliked its taste when raw for quite some time, and having dreaded those ants-on-a-log snacks as a kid. I buy it almost never -- in fact, the last time I bought it was probably in college. But I had a bunch left over from the caponata, and I thought that since this stew was a clean-the-fridge stew anyway, could adding a little celery hurt? No, it most certainly couldn't. And sure enough, celery's flavor was awesome in the stew. Can I describe how so? Nope. Maybe you should try it and see for yourself?

Summer vegetable (and fish) stew

• olive oil
• 2 stalks celery, minced
• 1/2 a yellow onion, minced
• 2 cloves garlic, sliced
• carrot, if you'd like (I didn't have any but a handful minced would do)
• 1 tomato, chopped
• 1 bay leaf, optional
• 1 zucchini or yellow squash, or three of those small summer squash, cut vertically into thick slices

<1/2 cup liquid (stock, wine, and water will all work)

• salt and pepper
• 1 Tablespoon butter
• 2 fillets turbot or other white, mild fish (total a bit more than half a pound)

In a heavy bottomed saute pan over medium heat, add a few Tbsp. of olive oil, and sweat the onion and garlic until very aromatic and translucent, about 2 minutes. Add bay leaf, celery, and carrots, if using, and continue to cook until soft, about 5-6 minutes. Add zucchini/squash and saute until browned, about 4 minutes. Add tomato, stir to incorporate, and add a bit of your liquid of choice, to scrape up the little bits that have gathered on the bottom of the pan. Season with salt and pepper to taste. Continue to add liquid gradually, cooking for an additional 3-4 minutes until it all comes together. Remove from heat, transfer to a bowl, and wipe out pan. (If you're not adding the fish, taste and adjust, and serve.)

Blot fillets dry with paper towels and season liberally. Heat the butter in the same pan over medium heat until bubbly and starting to brown. Add fillets. Once in the pan, don't move them around all too much -- you want them to develop color and crispness. After about 2 minutes, flip. At this point, if yours turn out as mine did, there'll be little brown bits of fish deliciousness, and that's ok. Start cutting into the fish with your spatula, breaking up the fillets into smaller pieces. Then add the vegetables back into the pan, toss to mix, and cook for an additional 3-4 minutes until fish is fully cooked (but not too cooked), and serve in big, homey bowls with nice, crusty sourdough bread. YUM.

Tilapia en papillote, purple potatoes, chile verde sauce

Ok, lots of words in the title, I know, but it's not really all that complicated to make.

I was in a creative mood last night, and I'd just read a post from Elise at Simply Recipes describing a recipe for Chile Verde. Pig is pretty high on the treif list, but I love tomatillos, and hot peppers are my new favorite food, so I figured I'd take a stab at making the dish sans pork -- which basically amounts to a yummy and versatile green sauce. I made several adjustments which I've spelled out in the recipe (below).

Now, tilapia en papillote.

"En papillote" is French for "in paper." This cooking technique involves creating a steam packet out of parchment paper, which seals flavors and juices into whatever steams inside. I ususally layer a protein (fish, meat, tofu, even) with fruit and/or vegetables, spices, salt and pepper, and just a few dashes of sauce or scented oil, depending on the recipe. Last week, my mother served salmon en papillote with peaches, julienned carrots and red peppers, and a dash of sesame oil -- simple and absolutely delightful.

The technique is a very healthy way to cook: it requires no oil, and ingredients are cooked just to doneness, so that they retain most of their nutrients. It's also relatively easy and quick: Just place the fish on the parchment paper, top with the other elements (or place them beneath the fish), fold up, and bake in the oven. Finally, en papillote makes for a beautiful presentation, as the fish and all its accoutrements are unwrapped and plated tableside. I know, it sounds like a lot of fussing, but it's really not that bad. Think of it as a ziploc sip n' steam bag but it's cheaper because it's just a piece of paper. Plus, it won't leak dioxins into your dinner the way plastic does. One rule of thumb about en papillote cooking: everything you cook inside the paper must have more or less the same cooking time. This means that if you're including carrots, potatoes, or other starchy things that take a while to soften, you must slice them very thinly so that they will cook more quickly. When you make this (yes, you will make this), let me know how it goes.

Chile Verde Sauce
2 Anaheim (or other) chiles -- Elise uses jalapeños
3 tomatillos, husks removed and cleaned well
1 small yellow onion, diced
3 cloves of garlic
salt
olive oil

Put tomatillos and garlic cloves under a broiler for about 12 minutes, until the tomatillos' skins are a browned and the flesh is soft. Remove, and allow to cool. Meanwhile, sauté the onions in the olive oil over low heat, until soft, translucent and caramelized.

Roast peppers naked on a gas stove (as seen above -- yowza!) until their entire skin is charred. Put in a peper bag and allow to steam for a couple minutes; then remove, run under water, and slide the skin right off, exposing the flesh of the pepper. chop coarsely.

Put the tomatillos in a blender and pulse. Add, then chiles, and season liberally with salt. Transfer to a bowl and store, covered, in the fridge for up to a week.

Tilapia en papillote with purple potatoes
serves 2.
2 filets of tilapia
2 pieces parchment paper, about three times the size of the filets
2 purple potatoes
1 lemon
salt and pepper
buckwheat honey

Lay tilapia filets in the center of the pieces of parchment paper.
Slice the potatoes VERY thinly (otherwise they will take longer to cook than the fish)
Slice the lemons. Stack the lemons and the potatoes in a domino-effect on top of the filet (I did them separately, but one may alternate them also for a more exciting presentation.) Alternatively, place the potatoes beneath the fish and the lemons on top.
Season with salt and pepper, and drizzle 1/2 a teaspoon (max!) of buckwheat honey atop each filet.
Wrap the filets as follows:(Like my elementary school drawings?)
Step 1: place fish in the center of paper with potatoes, lemons, salt, pepper and honey.
Step 2: fold the LONG sides of the paper over the fish toward the center so that they overlap.
Step 3: making sure that the paper stays overlapped, fold the short ends BENEATH the fish toward the center. In the finished packet, the fish should be resting on the two short sides of the paper (folded so that they're each in a double layer), keeping the packet closed.

Ok, that was the hard part. Now put the packets on a baking sheet, and insert into a 350-degree oven for about 15 minutes. You may have to leave them in for 20, depending on the thickness of the filets. I always open my own to check it so that I don't serve anyone accidentally undercooked fish.

That's basically it: for this dish, I drizzled a bit of honey over the chile verde, then plated the fish atop the sauce, and garnished with a sliced pear to complement the acidity of the chile verde. I'd probably skip the honey on the chile next time, as it tends to overpower the flavor of the chile.

*Phew!* enjoy.