A Salad, Medium Rare

Grilling season is finally upon us here in Pittsburgh. Come six o'clock, the smell of burgers drifts from the backyard of one neighbor or another. I ask Patrick to fire up the old grill. It's then that a certain twinkle appears in his eye and he begins rummaging around in the fridge for a celebratory Dogfish Head IPA. Then I hand him a platter full of romaine lettuce. He looks momentarily confused, and then it dawns on him. Sigh. Another night of grilling leaves. "Medium rare, I guess," he says to no one in particular as he heads out into the burger-perfumed air.

During our vacation to Atlantic Beach, we stayed in a room equipped with a TV (!), a TV which broadcast the Food Channel (!!). While Patrick trudged through a thick social history on the deck, I watched Giada De Larentiis grill up some heads of lettuce, and I don't think anything other than romaine has touched our grill since then.

It may be grilling season, but it is also the season of salads, hearty salads that can pass for more than a side dish. This salad's smoky greens and pungent dressing do the job. The romaine wilts slightly, but becomes crunchy around its charred edges. The sun dried tomatoes and toasted pine nuts lend an Italian twist to the traditional Caesar salad formula: romaine lettuce, garlicky anchovy dressing, Parmesan cheese. Giada's recipe includes fried polenta croutons, an addition that fully Italianizes this salad, but extends its prep-time beyond the five minutes to which I am now accustomed. Generally, I dispense with croutons altogether so that Patrick and I can round out this healthy meal with an entire loaf of (curse you, no-knead) bread.


Grilled Romaine Salad with Sun Dried Tomatoes and Pine Nuts
Serves 4-6. Adapted from this Giada De Laurentiis recipe.


For dressing:
2 garlic cloves
4 anchovy fillets, chopped
1/4 cup fresh lemon juice
1 tablespoon Dijon mustard
1/2 cup olive oil
salt and freshly ground black pepper

For salad:
3 small heads (or 2 large heads) romaine lettuce, halved lengthwise
a bit of olive oil
salt and freshly ground pepper
1/2 cup drained oil-packed sun-dried tomatoes, cut into thin strips
1/2 cup pine nuts, toasted
1 1/2 ounces Parmesan, thinly shaved with vegetable peeler

To make the dressing:
Finely chop the garlic and anchovies in a food processor. Blend in the lemon juice and mustard. With the machine running, gradually blend in the oil. Season the dressing, to taste, with salt and pepper.

To make the salad:
Prepare a grill (outdoor or grill pan) for high heat. Lightly brush the cut sides of romaine with a bit of olive oil and sprinkle with salt and pepper. Grill the lettuce until lightly charred, about 2 minutes per side. Cut the lettuce into bite-size pieces.

On a serving platter, mound the grilled chopped lettuce. Scatter over the sun-dried tomatoes and pine nuts. Drizzle with enough dressing to evenly coat. Add Parmesan and serve immediately. Pass around extra dressing.

Savoring Panna Cotta

I've been a bad, bad blogger. First it was the dissertation, then the dissertation defense, then graduation, then a much-needed vacation on the North Carolina coast. But now that I've been hooded, and feted, and rested, I'm heading back into the kitchen armed with a reformed blogger's resolve and a few new cookbooks (thanks Aunt Billie and Uncle Rock!). Today's recipe comes from one of those new books, Bite Size, by Francoise Payard. It's a small book packed with stunning photos of small bites of food. For last night's dinner celebrating our 6th wedding anniversary, I translated a recipe for 20 itty-bitty servings of cauliflower panna cotta into a recipe for six servings by pouring it into bigger glasses. Magic. This savory panna cotta is both elegant and simple. Preparing it will dirty a few pots and a food processor, and it will require the slightly fussy step of straining through a sieve, but all of this can be done hours in advance of serving. That means more time for sipping sparkling wine on the back patio.

Panna cotta, which means "cooked cream" in Italian, is a custard that owes its consistency to gelatin rather than eggs. I've enjoyed several fruit-topped variations of panna cotta for dessert (though I had never made it myself). The thing I love about this version is that it retains the simple color and texture of traditional panna cotta, but the flavor is pure, unadulterated cauliflower, rendered subtle and novel in this delicate, chilled incarnation.

The original recipe called for each panna cotta to be topped with a tiny spoonful of salmon roe. Mmmmm. Salmon roe. I understand that Thomas Keller offers a recipe for a cauliflower panna cotta topped with beluga caviar in The French Laundry Cookbook. Mmmmmmm. Beluga caviar. It seemed like fish eggs were the way to go. Fish eggs, it seems, are not to be found in the great metropolis of Pittsburgh. Is there anyone out there who knows otherwise? I checked Whole Foods ("We sometimes have caviar around the holidays."), Trader Joe's ("Nope."), Wholey's ("Yeah, we got fish eggs, but you're going to have to get them out of the fish yourself."), and the Market District Giant Eagle ("Salmon roe? Uhhh, is that like a kind of fish soup?").

I switched the salmon roe out for baked prosciutto strips, a few sprinkles of nutmeg, and some chives. These are flavors which I think have paired well with cauliflower in other recipes, and this one wasn't an exception. If I give cauliflower panna cotta another go, and if I still can't get my hands on any fish eggs, I might try topping it with a splash of truffle oil and a thin shaving of Pecorino Romano cheese.


Cauliflower Panna Cotta with Prosciutto and Chives
Adapted from Bite Size by Francoise Payard. Makes 6 small servings.

14 ounces (about 1 small head) cauliflower
1 tablespoon unsalted butter
2 cups heavy cream
2 teaspoons (1 envelope) unflavored gelatin
sea salt
freshly ground white pepper
2 thin slices prosciutto
freshly grated nutmeg
chives for garnish

1. Cut cauliflower into small pieces and place them in a pot. Add butter, a pinch of salt, and just enough water to cover about one third of the cauliflower. Cover pot and bring to simmer over medium heat. Simmer until cauliflower is very tender, 6-10 minutes. Drain off any excess water and puree the cauliflower until completely smooth in a food processor.

2. Place the cream in a small pot and sprinkle the gelatin over it. Let it sit for 4 minutes and then bring it to a simmer, stirring, over medium-low heat to dissolve the gelatin. Remove the pot from the heat and let the cream cool to room temperature. Then, gently mix it into the cauliflower puree (do not whip it). Pass the mixture through a fine-mesh sieve into a bowl. (Next I will pass it through the sieve once more to further refine the texture, but this extra step is certainly not necessary.) Season to taste with salt and pepper. Don't skimp on the salt.

3. Place 6 small glasses on a baking sheet (this makes it easier to transfer them in and out of the refrigerator). Fill each glass with the panna cotta. Cover the top of the glasses with plastic wrap and refrigerate until completely chilled, about 1 hour. This can be done up to a day ahead.

4. For the garnish: Heat oven to 350 degrees. Line a baking sheet with parchment paper. Place the slices of prosciutto on the parchment paper, layer another sheet of parchment paper on top, and set a second baking sheet on top (this keeps the prosciutto flat as it cooks). Bake for 8-10 minutes, or until the prosciutto is crispy. Allow prosciutto to cool, and then cut it into thin strips.

5. Remove glasses from refrigerator a few minutes before serving. Garnish each glass with a bit of nutmeg, a few strips of prosciutto, and a scattering of chives.