Quinoa with Brown Mushrooms and Fiddleheads

I apologize in advance for not having a photo of the finished dish or any step-by-step photos like usual.  I made this dish to take to dinner at my brother’s house and I was in a bit of rush to get things finished and get out the door. I’m happy to say that the end product was delicious and everyone enjoyed it. I’m also happy to have nabbed some pictures of the fiddle-heads themselves, like the one shown here.

I confess: this was the first time I had ever had fiddle-heads! We came across them at the vegetable market; a vibrant emerald pile of tightly coiled spirals in a tray of cool water. If you have never had them, try them! Who knew that these little coils of fern frond would be so delicious. They have a very “green” taste to them, not unlike broccoli, but more delicate. They are not as “unique” tasting as asparagus, but they definitely have their own personality.

If you are familiar with the concept of terroir then the related saying “If it grows together, it goes together” shouldn’t seem like a stretch. In this case, I’m referring to the combination of mushrooms and fiddle-heads. Admittedly I was not, in this case, as committed or as organized as I could have been, sourcing local wild mushrooms to go with the local fiddle-heads but from the point of view of complimentary flavours, these forest floor dwellers go very nicely together. Enjoy!

Quinoa with Brown Mushrooms and Fiddleheads

1 1/2 cups of quinoa

1tablespoon of olive oil

1 to 1 1/2 cups of fresh fiddle-heads*, trimmed of the tough stalk (about 30)

1 lb brown cremini mushrooms (or a mix of your favourite mushrooms – wild ones would be nice!)

3 scallions, finely chopped

1/2 tsp fresh thyme leaves

3 fresh sage leaves, minced

1 bay leaf

pinch of salt

squirt of lemon juice

zest of 1/4 of a lemon

Cook the quinoa is cooking in 2 1/2 cups of water until fully cooked. Move from the cooking pot to a large bowl, stirring to cool the quinoa and spreading it up the sides of the bowl. Allow to cool to room temperature, about 15 minutes. Saute the fiddleheads and mushrooms with the thyme and sage and the bay leaf. Toss over medium heat until the mushrooms are cooked and the fiddle-heads are tender when poked with a fork or sharp knife. Discard the bay leaf, add the scallions. Add the salt, lemon zest and juice, tossing to combine. Stir the vegetables into the cooled quinoa. Serve immediately or chill and serve. Enjoy!

* if you can’t find fiddle-heads, asparagus or even broccoli, in very small florets would be a nice substitute.

Yogurt Marinated Chicken

Lately we have found that the most economical way to buy quality fresh chicken is to buy the whole bird and break it down ourselves. (By “ourselves”, I mean Rob. He is a whiz with most butchery and given the chance will regale you with tales of bygone summer jobs as a much younger man, in an abattoir. Delightful.) When disassembled, a whole chicken will yield you up to 10 portions of meat, which is great, but if your family is like ours there is a dark v. light debate and a boneless v. bone debate. Not surprisingly, those who much prefer the white meat also prefer boneless. Oh, and skinless, lest a wibbly scrap of skin disturb the dining experience. I joke, but I am not exactly a “nose to tail” eater of meats either and I do definitely appreciate the safe sterility of boneless, skinless, shapeless, no-longer-resembles-a-living-creature meats. What I’m not willing to compromise on is flavour. (Not to get political, but also in a perfect world, all meats would be local,  free-run, organic, completely affordable and humanely raised and slaughtered. Until then, let’s all just do our best.) If you are a cooker and consumer of meat, particularly poultry, you will be familiar with how much better the end result of a bone-in, skin-on piece of chicken will taste. You’re also likely familiar with the shortened cooking time and reduced fat of boneless, skinless chicken. So how do you strike a happy medium, and if, like at our house, you have a variety of palates to please?

In a single word: marinade.

mar · i · nade  – noun

[n. mar-uh-neyd; v. mar-uh-neyd]  verb, -nad·ed, -nad·ing.

A seasoned liquid, usually of vinegar or wine with oil, herbs, spices, etc in which meat, fish, vegetables, etc. are steeped before cooking. 

Yogurt Marinated Chicken

10 pieces of chicken ( a whole chicken’s worth)

2 tablespoons olive oil

1/2 a cup of plain yogurt

juice of 2 lemons

zest of 1 lemon

leaves from a sprig each of rosemary and thyme

1/2 teaspoon of salt

black pepper

Marinate in a glass or plastic (non reactive) dish for 1 hour or up to overnight in the refrigerator.  Allow to sit at room temperature for 20 mins. before cooking.

Bake at 425° for 35 minutes or until crispy and fully cooked. This also turns out beautifully when barbecued! Enjoy!

Sautéed Asparagus with Tarragon

Oh asparagus: such a fleeting vision. Get it while you can, friends, it doesn’t last long. Whether you like it pencil thin and crisp, thumb-thick and buttery or shaved into ribbons and eaten raw, this is the time to have it. I’ll admit, usually I just steam it or toss inch long pieces into pasta. I like it with lemon, or just a bit of butter, but I don’t usually pair it with herbs, lest it’s delicate flavour be smothered. So imagine how chuffed I was with myself when I found myself standing in the market with a bunch of tarragon in one hand and a bundle of asparagus in the other?

A quick saute in some olive oil got this asparagus off the ground, but the chopped tarragon I threw in for the last 2 minutes of cooking really made it fly. A little sea salt and fresh pepper to finish, and ta-da, a springy, delicious and fast, fast, fast side dish for dinner, or a great addition to breakfast/brunch. (Try dunking the spears into a perfectly runny egg. Heaven.)

Sautéed Asparagus with Tarragon

Rinse and dry 1 bundle of asparagus., Trim the stem ends of any dry bits.

Chop and set aside, 1 tablespoon of tarragon.

Heat 1 tsp. olive oil in a large skillet over medium high heat. Cut the asparagus spears into thirds. Toss in the asparagus pieces into the hot pan and toss quickly like a stir fry. Allow to cook, tossing frequently for about 4-5 minutes. If the pan is hot enough they will get a bit browned, which I liked because it amps up the natural nuttiness. If you’d like to keep them pure green, turn down the heat before any caramelization occurs. Add the tarragon for the last 2-3 minutes of cooking. The asparagus is cooked when it’s bright green and tender. Add a fine sprinkle of sea salt and pepper, et voila! Bon appetit!

Baked Penne with Sausage and Kale

If you are in Vancouver like I am then you will understand why baked pasta is still on the menu. Aren’t April showers supposed to bring us May flowers? It’s still cool and wet, wet, wet, so something hot from the oven and full of robust flavours like hot sausage and kale are still welcome. Not perfectly seasonal, but what can you do?

In the fall, when the weather starts to get nippy and crisp I like to make a sausage, white bean and kale soup. It’s hot, spicy and really satisfying. I think when I was making this pasta I was thinking of that soup. It has the same character but the creamy pasta takes it to a whole other level.

You’ll notice that there are no spices, herbs or seasonings here. That is due to the fact that the sausage brings so much flavour along with the onion and garlic, that it doesn’t need anything at all. The kale rounds things out with its deep vegetable notes and the peas, well, they remind you that it’s not October. Enjoy this while it’s cool enough to have the oven on, and remember it for when the weather cools again in the fall.

Baked Penne with Sausage and Kale

preheat the oven to 375 degrees

1 lb penne pasta, cooked

1 lb hot sausage

1 medium onion, diced

1 cup of chopped mushrooms

1 bay leaf

2 cloves of garlic, grated or minced

2 teaspoons flour

1 1/2 cups of cold milk

1 bunch of kale, stems removed, chopped

1 cup of peas (fresh or frozen)

fresh mozzarella (about 12 of the cocktail sized balls, approximately 1 cup)

Chop the onion and mushrooms. Mince the garlic. Set aside.

Remove the coarse stems from the kale and roughly chop the remaining leaves. If using fresh peas, shell them and set aside with the kale.

Begin by removing the casings from the sausage. In a heavy bottomed saucepan, over medium heat, brown the sausage with the bay leaf and break it up with a wooden spoon for about 5 minutes. Add the onion, garlic and mushrooms. Cook for 10 minutes until the sausage, onions and mushrooms are all slightly caramelized and cooked through.  Remove and discard the bay leaf.

Now is the time to boil the water for your pasta and cook it (according to package directions). You may wish to slightly under-cook the pasta as it will be spending some time cooking in the oven as well.

Back to the sausage mix: Sprinkle the flour over the sausage, onion and mushroom mix and stir to combine and coat everything with the flour.  Add the milk and cook for 5 minutes until slightly thickened. Add the kale and peas.

Add the cooked pasta and stir until the pasta is well coated. Pour mixture into a 9×13″ casserole. Push the bocconcini into the pasta, distributing it evenly. Bake for 40 minutes until the cheese is melted and the top of the pasta is golden brown.

Strawberry Shortcake

Spring has decided to be fashionably late this year in Vancouver.  It’s May and it’s still very cool and wet. I could go on and on about it, but really, we are not facing radical weather like some parts of the world have lately, so really, I should be glad that all we have are soggy feet.

<Incidentally as I am writing this we are having a hail storm unlike any I have ever seen! I’m so glad we held off planting our tomato plants last night — they would have been crushed!>

Strawberries are just starting to arrive closer to our doorsteps here. (Less from Mexico, more from California or hot house ones from BC) and before we know it the local ones will be all you can find in the market. We have plans on having a huge strawberry patch this summer so, fingers crossed, we will only have to go down the back steps to savour their sweet crimson sweetness. Until then, store bought will have to do, because strawberry shortcake, like pea shoots or asparagus just tastes like spring.

In case you haven’t noticed, I’ll tell you right now: I’m completely nuts for lemon. Sweet or savoury, I think lemon is my favourite flavour. I particularly like it with fruit and berries – strawberries included. For this shortcake, I made little lemon cupcakes and topped them with cream and strawberries macerated in just a bit of sugar and lemon juice. Despite the richness of the cream, they were almost refreshing, and almost springlike enough to make us believe that warmer weather was on the way.

Strawberry Shortcake

For the cake —

preheat the oven to 350 degrees

2- 1/2 Cups all purpose flour

1 teaspoon baking powder

pinch of salt

1 Cup of butter, room temperature

1 cup of sugar

2 eggs

zest of 2 lemons

juice of 2 lemons (about 1/4 cup)

1/4 of a cup of milk

3/4 cup sour cream

Combine the dry ingredients, stirring well to combine. Set aside.

Cream butter and sugar together with electric mixer until fluffy. Add eggs, one at a time, fully incorporating each one before adding the next one. Add the zest and lemon juice. Beat until pale in colour and fluffy, about 3 minutes.

Add the milk and sour cream slowly to the butter mixture with the mixer running

Add the dry ingredients, one half at a time. Mix until fully combined.

Scoop the batter into greased regular sized muffin tins, filling 3/4 of the way. Bake for 20 minutes at 350 degrees.

Allow to cool in the pan for 5 minutes before releasing the cakes and cooling them on a wire rack. Makes 18 cupcakes.

(remaining cupcakes, when cool, can be frozen in zip top bags

For the Strawberries — enough for 6 desserts )

Hull and slice 1 lb of berries and toss them with the juice of a lemon and 2 tablespoons of icing sugar. Allow to sit, stirring occasionally for 30 mins. before spooning over cooled cakes.

For the cream —

Beat 1 cup of whipping cream until soft peaks form. Quickly incorporate a dash of vanilla.