Panzanella(ish)

Early in our relationship, TD and I established the sanctity of Sunday Supper. I don’t recall us ever doing this with intention. I suspect it was the product of a cross-town relationship (code for we rarely saw each other during the week) and really good Sunday night television (Sex and the City, The Sopranos etc.). Twelves years later and Monday dinner may be a scrounged peanut butter and jelly sandwich, but Sunday supper is always special. It’s never elaborate and cooking with fire is usually involved.

One of our favorite Sunday Supper dishes has kind of evolved into being over the years. The ingredients change depending on the season and what happens to look good a the market. Sometimes it leans toward the Italian pursuasion. Others more Greek. And still others it just does its own thing. It’s an easygoing dish with little in the way of rule following. We call it panzanella-ish.

Every culture seems to have its way of economizing resources and utilizing leftover starch products in interesting ways. Panzanella is Tuscany’s.

Let’s start with the tomatoes. In the heat of summer when it seems like the markets are giving away tomatoes, I like to use beautifully colored heirlooms. During the off-season, I stick to smaller varieties like grape, cupid or cherry because they pack a little more punch in the way of flavor than the larger, anemic, hothouse varieties. For panzanella, you want some juice (I don’t seed), but not a ton. To get to the optimum tomato juice ratio, I cut the tomatoes into bit-sized chunks, set them in a strainer and salt them. Then, I let them sit for about 20 minutes, gently tossing the strainer every five minutes or so to release the juices. While they are resting, I usually melt in a clove or so of garlic like with my pico recipe.

Oh wait, if you are patient, there is a step before the tomatoes. My bad.

If you remember to, pour between 1/4 and 1/2 cup of extra-virgin olive oil in a bowl. To it, add on large, smashed clove of garlic and desired seasoning (fresh herbs etc). Let steep for a couple of hours. This the oil you’ll use to toast your bread cubes.

Back on track. While the tomatoes are sweating it out, I cut up my sort-of stale bread. I usually don’t go whole-hog-Thanksgiving-stuffing-stale for panzanellaish. It’s a personal preference, but we like a little give in the bread.

Also a personal preference, I like to toast the bread on the stove-top. We aren’t making croutons here and for whatever reason, I tend to forget the bread when I attempt to toast it in the oven. So, in goes the garlic oil, then the cubes. Toss to coat and let toast on a couple of sides.

See what I mean?

No matter the persuasion, we always use cucumbers. Sometimes persian (as I’ve done here), sometimes English, sometimes normal. Seed them if you want. We don’t.

This salad needs a little bite to it. Diced shallot or red onion will do the trick. Just a little kick.

Herbs are also important. Remember the Strawberry Shortcake dolls that smelled like their namesakes? Well, if it was the 80s and I was a strawberry shortcake doll, I’d be Basil Bottechelli. Mint is lovely too or whatever your favorite combo might be. When fresh herbs aren’t in season, we toss in some Herbs de Provence (our household’s version of Windex. Have an issue? Throw on some Herbs de Provence).

Okay, it’s time to man-up and buy a good hunk of parmesan reggiano. I’m talking aged at least 18 months (though 24 is better). It’ll be tough to throw-down upwards of $25 a pound the first time. But, it will last much longer than you’d expect (even if you are prone to breaking-off hunks with your fork and eating it straight-out as TD and I have become) And bonus? The rind is an excellent addition to a soup or tomato sauce recipe. It’ll change your life. I swear. Feta, goat or buffalo mozzarella (think caprese inspired) are genuis in this salad as well.

We microplane. You could shave with a veggie peeler or grate. Up to you.

Finish off the salad with some acid, really nice cold-pressed olive oil and salt and pepper to taste. My favorite acid for this is fresh lemon juice.

Toss everything together and then give it about 15 minutes for the bread to soften just a tad. Pair it with a protein and beautiful wine and, no matter where you happen to be for reals, you’ll swear you’re in Tuscany.

Soundtrack

TMH’s Endless Summer playlist. Beach boys, 2 Wicky, Norah Jones, Karmin, Frank Sinatra, Grouplove, Foster the People, The Black Keys…to name a few.

Misanthropic Hostess Panzanellaish

In lieu of an actual recipe, I submit this diagram for consideration. Mix and match as desired, adjust ingredient volume to number of people you are feeding (and then, double to be safe, there will never, ever be leftovers).

You should be able to click on the image for full-page display.

My bloody (orange) valentine cheesecake

Alas, I could not resist matching up deliciously gorgeous and in-season blood oranges with Valentine’s Day. If the name bothers you, you can do what my friend Cameron has done when attempting to get her kids to eat the blood oranges off of a tree in her yard. Just call them rainbow oranges. My rainbow orange valentine. That works too.

Blood oranges remind me of the trip we took to Italy a couple of springs ago. We spent some time in a teeny tiny little fishing village where a little pastry and coffee shop served blood orange juice in the mornings. As soon as the server set down the sunset-colored juice on that first morning, I knew I had a new favorite color. I’ve taken advantage of using blood oranges at any turn ever since. So, while looking at the heaping bowl of blood oranges I brought home from the market a couple of weekends ago I thought, why not blood orange cheesecake?

This recipe is actually adapted from a recipe I found in, gasp, Cooking Light magazine (though the original calls for normal oranges…how pedestrian!). While this blog does not claim to ever attempt to be healthy, it’s always nice when recipe happens to naturally lean in that direction. And I this one does it well.

This recipe starts with about a dozen blood oranges that have been sectioned. To do this, first lop-off the top and bottom of the orange so that you have a stable base. Then, with a sharp knife, cut the peel from the orange while following its contours from top to bottom. Make sure to remove any of the pith that might remain.

Then, I like to hold the naked orange with one hand and using a pairing knife, carefully cut between the membranes so that the two cuts come together in a V shape. If done right, your original orange will look like this:

And your sections will look like this:

This part is a little time consuming but can be done well in advance.

Now it’s time to make a base. The original recipe is scaled to an eight-inch spring-form pan. Mine is nine inches. Even with adjustments in the original, I thought the final crust was too thin so I’ve made some changes in the recipe I’ve included here.

The crust begins with either ground graham crackers or gingersnaps. I love the combination of ginger and orange and so ground up some of my new favorite ginger cookies.

Melted butter and a bit of sugar are added to the crumbed cookies.

And then into the pan and into the oven for a few minutes. The strange greasy looking spots in the photo below are actually pieces of crystallized ginger.

While the crust is in the oven, it’s time to mix together what seems like an unfathomably ridiculous amount of dairy. There is so much cream cheese and yogurt in this recipe that as soon as I opened the first envelope of reduced-fat cream cheese, Petting Zoo’s bionic cow product senors activated and she appeared out of nowhere demanding a piece of the action. As gentle as Bella the cat is, I did have a quick moment of wondering whether I’d have to physically defend my bowl of “cream.” Luckily, she was easily distracted by the promise of a kitty treat or two. In addition to 24 ounces combined fat-free and reduced-fat cream cheese, I used a lowfat Greek yogurt in place of the originally called for sour cream and really liked the outcome.

Then, into the oven with just enough time for me to make a confession. Before this post I was a virgin. Well, a cheesecake virgin. As in, I’d never made it. I have no idea why not, I just never had. Which probably explains why my beautifully spongy looking cheesecake after one-hour of baking looked like the Bride of Frankenstein at 75 minutes. I think I went wrong at a couple of junctures. First, I should have used a water bath. Even without any previous cheesecake experience, I should have known better. Second, I should have re-oiled the sides of the pan after baking the crust. Finally, I’m pretty sure I over-baked the poor thing. Oh well, guess I’ll just have to keep trying.

Luckily, when it comes to cheesecake, a crack or two does not have to mean disaster. Remember those blood oranges? Well, we are going to make a little sauce with marmalade and then decorate the top.

You can add the orange sections in whatever pattern you’d like. I went for a sort of spiral-rose design.

Look at that color.

Seriously–how enticing is this hue?

I was a little skeptical about what kind of texture reduced fat dairy could derive. Turns out, it’s lovely. And, if I hadn’t made it and been privy to the less than full-octane ingredients, I wouldn’t have had any idea.

I’m telling you, this was good stuff. If I was my Valentine, this is what I would make for me.

(Blood) Orange-Glazed Cheesecake with Gingersnap Crust

heavily adapted from Cooking Light, October 2001

Crust:

2 C gingersnap crumbs
4 Tbs sugar
2 Tbs unsalted butter, melted
Cooking spray

Filling

3 (8 ounce) blocks reduced fat cream cheese, softened
1 (8 ounce) block fat-free cream cheese, softened
7 ounces Greek yogurt (I used 2%)
.25 C all-purpose flour
1.5 C sugar
.25 C thawed orange juice concentrate
2 Tbs blood orange juice
2 t vanilla extract
3 large eggs
2 large egg whites

Topping

.5 C orange marmalade
2 Tbs blood orange juice
Blood oranges, sectioned (I sectioned about a dozen to make the pattern shown here but you can mix it up however you would like)

Preheat oven to 325 degrees

For crust, combine gingersnap crumbs, sugar and butter tossing with a fork until moist. Press into a bottom of a 9-inch springform pan coated in cooking oil. Bake for 5 minutes.

To prepare filling, beat together cheese and yogurt in a large bowl or standing mixer at high speed until smooth. Add the flour, sugar, orange juice and vanilla. Add the eggs and whites one-at-a-time until combined.

Pour the cheesecake mix into prepared pan and bake for 70 minutes or until almost set. The cheesecake is done when the center barely moves when the pan is touched. Remove cheesecake from oven and run a knife around the outside edge. Cool to room temp and remove sides.

To prepare the topping, combine marmalade and juice. Spread half of the mixture over the top of the cheesecake. Arrange oranges over cheesecake and top with remaining marmalade mixture. Cover and chills at least eight hours.

Spritz con Aperol for the Adult Trick or Treater

This Halloween, I will be enjoying an Orange Stinger Martini from my creative and quite devilish friend Alison of A Girl A Market A Martini. Oops…I mean, A Girl A Market A Meal. Her cocktail got my thinking about my (other) favorite orange cocktail. The Spritz con Aperol.

It started in the spring of 2008 when my husband and I slipped off of the North American continent and disappeared into the wilds of Italy.

Oh Italy. My brother from another mother.

We saw them first in Bolzano I think. Nearly neon orange and served over ice in large wine glasses with fruit garnish. It took quite a bit of gesturing and an immense amount of effort in my own, horrible Fodor’s Italian but we soon learned the cocktail was called a Spritz con Aperol. My understanding is that the original Spritz, made famous in Venice, was made with Campari. I think this explains the “con” part when asking for it made with Aperol.

Aperol, like Campari is a low-alcohol liqueur. As the color suggests, it tastes of oranges but also has the bitterness of the zest and an array of herbs. This former cocktail waitress had never seen it until visiting Italy. In fact, I was hard-pressed to find it once we returned to the states and originally had to order it online. Lucky for us, the tasty orange apertif has gained quite a bit of momentum in the last couple of years and can now be found in gourmet grocery stores and my own favorite big box store: Beverages and More. In fact, this month, Esquire uses it as the main ingredient in its New Esquire Cocktail. As if!

The spritz part of the cocktail comes from Prosecco. Sure, you could use champagne or even sparkling wine but you would be taking a little of the Italian out of the whole experience. The cocktail is light and refreshing and perfect for the summer–as well demonstrated in it’s most recent marketing campaign.

The lightness and icy cold part may not be appropriate for Halloween anyplace east of Arizona. But, here in warm, dry California, a Spritz con Aperol could hold its own as a pre-trick or treating libation. Or, if you happen to be The Misanthropic Hostess, it simply reminds you of a late afternoon on the Western Italian coast when all there was to do was watch the sun slowly descend into the Ligurian Sea.

Or, perhaps Venice.

Or Verona

Or Bolzano.

Spritz con Aperol

3 oz Aperol
2 oz Prosecco
Fruit for garnish if desired.

To a large stemware glass filled with ice add Aperol. Fill remaining glass with Prosecco. Garnish.