This is the only photo I took of this meal, because about half a second afterward a tremendous crash came from the kitchen. The cabinet containing our plates and bowls had fallen off the wall, unassisted. Ben was in there, frying some eggs to top off the risotto, with Zane by his side and Ruby nearby in her bouncer. I heard the violent sound of the fall and then, for a second (but felt much, much longer) I heard nothing.
Before I had Zane, I wondered what kind of parent I would be: Would being responsible for raising a child enhance the type A aspects of my personality? or provide prospective, allowing me to loosen up a bit? I was happily surprised to find the latter to be true, so much so that sometimes I feel I’m missing one of the mothering genes. Maybe I should worry a little more, like when my friend asks me to please stop eating hot soup over my baby. But during that brief moment of silence, I was panicked for the safety of my babies. I ran in to find Ruby unscathed and Zane shaken up but with only a couple small cuts on his foot. We retreated to the backyard where I finally breathed and then began sobbing.
After cleaning up enough to safely walk through the kitchen to the dining table, we sat down to dinner. Zane retold the story a handful of times and had to go back into the kitchen to see the bare wall before he could eat. Processing. He also took a four hour nap the next day. Processing.
But once he dug in, he obviously enjoyed the meal as much as we did, and so I’m posting it here. It’s a pretty standard risotto, except the naked corn cobs are simmered in the chicken broth used to cook the rice, pumping the final dish full of sweet, fresh corn flavor. I charred the corn kernels in a cast iron skillet, and the subtle smokiness keeps the overall impression from being too sweet. Although not pictured, I recommend topping the dish with a fried egg.
Charred Corn Risotto
4 ears of corn, kernels cut from the cob
8 cups bone broth
1/2 onion, diced
1 1/4 cups arborio rice
generous splash dry vermouth
2 tablespoons butter
1/2 cup freshly grated parmigiano reggiano
olive oil
salt and pepper
Combine the corn cobs and bone broth in a large pot and bring to a boil over high heat. Reduce to a simmer and cook for 30 minutes before removing the cobs. I also scraped the sides of the corn cobs with the back of a spoon to pull out all the flavor possible. Keep the broth warm on low heat.
Meanwhile, char the corn kernels. Thinly coat the bottom of a cast iron skillet over high heat with oil and, once hot, add the corn. Cook, stirring infrequently, until most of the corn is charred on both sides. Watch out, because some of the kernels may pop out of the hot pan. Turn off the heat but leave the corn in the pan to stay warm. Sprinkle with a pinch of salt.
Coat the bottom of another pot over medium heat with olive oil. Once the oil is hot, add the onion and a pinch of salt, and saute until translucent. Add the rice and saute another two minutes. Stir in the vermouth.
Add a ladle full of broth to the rice. Stir often and continue adding broth as the rice absorbs each addition until the mixture is creamy and the rice is cooked but still a bit firm (al dente). This takes around 30 minutes and you may not use all the broth. Stir in the butter and cheese and a generous amount of pepper. Serve immediately, topped with the charred corn.
If you follow me on Twitter or Pinterest, you probably know my mind has often been on juices lately. I don’t know what’s the largest contributing factor: pregnancy, regularly needing to fight illness, or the heat and humidity, but I’ve been thirsting for them (pun intended) regularly. I used to think I wasn’t a juice person, but as it turns out I just don’t care much for bottled juices, even those “not from concentrate”; fresh juices, on the other hand, I groove on.
Since this is new territory for me, I haven’t been posting any recipes, just following others’ and experimenting. Since I enjoy even flavors some might find too strong, I haven’t had a juice yet I didn’t like, but what I’m sharing today is the first concoction I created that spurred me to test it confirm it was just as refreshing and balanced as I originally thought. Conclusion: Indeed. It’s delightfully lemony while the acidity is tempered by the mild sweetness of carrots and an apple. Its camouflaged complexity comes from the vibrant flavors of cilantro and mint (from our CSA) and the finish boasts a little heat from fresh ginger.
Herbaceous Carrot + Lemon Juice
2 carrots, peeled
1 Fuji apple, cored
1 lemon, peeled
1-inch piece fresh ginger, peeled
handful of fresh mint, leaves only
handful fresh cilantro, leaves and stems
Run the ingredients through your juicer according to the manufacturer’s instructions. Mine works best if the greens (or herbs, in this case) are balled up and dispersed between the other ingredients.
Serves 1-2
For the last month I’ve been exclusively posting about my work elsewhere, but I’d really like to get back to creating some recipes specifically for this blog. The thing is, I like the idea but the to execute it feels like a challenge for the simple reason that I don’t get paid when I write for myself. That excuse has been losing its power as I’ve been thinking about my next steps, and the case for dedicating real time and energy into this space has fully established.
I have a lot I want to work on: understanding the technical ins and outs of my camera, improving my food styling abilities, and defining my writing voice. Especially that last one. I feel clueless when I sit down to write and spend way too many of my working hours staring at the computer screen. I’m so jealous of/impressed by some of the food bloggers out there who can articulate their thoughts and feelings in a captivating or entertaining way; I’m looking at you Molly, Molly, and Kelsey, among others. And then how do you segue so effortlessly into talking about a recipe? I can summarize 90% of the posts on this blog with “I made this food and it was so good” (or some other word for “good” I found in a thesaurus).
Today’s small step is to do a little more than link to one of my recent articles. This week on Tasting Notes I shared a recipe for pizza with braised short ribs with an orange gremolata, one perk of which was half the red wine braised short ribs remained to create another meal.
I’ve been wanting to try my hand at sweet potato gnocchi and had in mind a take that would have a prominent sweet potato flavor. Most of the recipes I’ve seen call for ricotta, I assume to keep the texture light, but 1) I wondered how much that would dilute the sweet potato and 2) I didn’t have any ricotta on hand. So, I made the gnocchi with nothing more than sweet potato, egg yolk, flour, and a pinch of salt. The results weren’t as delicate as potato gnocchi but not at all dense or chewy.
Most importantly, the earthy sweetness I was looking for was intact and an ideal pairing with savory short ribs and bright gremolata. I used orange instead of lemon zest for the gremolata, inspired by a short rib dish we had at a restaurant a while back. It’s a refreshing twist on a classic flavor combination and for that reason a happy surprise, not to mention the orange is a better companion with sweet potato. I’m not sure which one we loved more, the gnocchi or the pizza.
Sweet Potato Gnocchi with Braised Short Ribs + Orange Gremolata
for the short ribs:
1 1/2 lbs beef short ribs
2 medium onions, medium chop
2 star anise
3 bay leaves
1 tbsp finely grated fresh ginger
1 tsp freshly ground black pepper
1 c red wine
salt
cooking oil
for the gremolata:
1 garlic clove, finely chopped
1 tbsp orange zest
1 tsp salt
1/4 c chopped fresh parsley
2 tbsp olive oil
for the sweet potato gnocchi:
1 1/2 c sweet potato puree (from 2-3 medium sweet potatoes, roasted, peeled, and mashed into a thin layer on a large plate to cool)
1 egg yolk
pinch of salt
about 1 c + 2 tbsp flour (may need more or less), plus more for rolling
2 tbsp butter
1. Braise the short ribs: Preheat the oven to 250 degrees F. Coat the bottom of a heavy, lidded pot (such as a Dutch oven) with oil and place over high heat. Generously salt both sides of the short ribs and, once the oil is hot, brown both sides and move to a plate. Reduce the heat to medium and add the onions, star anise, bay leaves, ginger, pepper, and a pinch of salt. Cook, stirring occasionally, until the onions are translucent. Add the red wine and cook for two minutes, using a spatula or wooden spoon to scrape any bits stuck to the bottom of the pot. Cover with the lid and move to the oven for two hours, or until the meat is falling off the bone.
2. Strain out the liquid from the short ribs into a small pot. Place the pot over high heat and reduce to the consistency of syrup. Once the short ribs are cool enough to handle, pull out the star anise, bay leaves, and bones. Use your fingers or two forks to shred the meat. Stir in the reduced cooking liquid.
3. Make the gremolata: Add the garlic, orange zest, salt, parsley, and olive oil to a small bowl and stir to combine.
4. Make the sweet potato gnocchi: Bring a large pot of salted water to a boil. Stir together the sweet potato and egg yolk in a large bowl. Stir in 1 c flour, then add 1 tbsp flour at a time until the dough is pillowy soft and loses enough of its tackiness so it can be gently kneaded for just a minute. On a lightly floured surface, use your hands to roll out a handful of dough at a time to 1/2-inch thick cylinders. Use the side of a fork to to pinch off 1-inch pieces of gnocchi. One all the dough has been rolled and cut, add to the boiling water and stir occasionally until the gnocchi float to the surface. Meanwhile, melt the butter in a large skillet. Strain the gnocchi and add it to the melted butter, tossing to evenly coat.
5. Serve the gnocchi topped with braised short ribs (You will only need about half of the meat; reserve the rest for another use, such as short rib pizza) and sprinkled with the gremolata.