This modern take on strawberry shortcake is perfect for warm Spring weather

I love the idea of strawberry shortcake but the reality is always too heavy. In my updated recipe, thin, crispy pastry squares sprinkled with cinnamon and sugar sandwich ripe berries, gently roasted rhubarb and mascarpone cream scented with orange and basil. Heaven! And light enough to eat the whole thing!

Cleaned dandelions

It’s a weed! No! It’s an artisanal plant! It’s worth $12.00 a pound! No! You spray herbicide on it!

Today I foraged. Technically, I weeded. I was working in my yard and noticed that the rain had caused the grass to grow like crazy. Nestled in among the vivid green shoots were lots of dandelions. They were hard to see because they had not yet bloomed but they were there in abundance. Perfect for eating! After all this rain, the ground is moist and giving. I sank my trowel into the ground again and again and within 5 minutes had a 2 gallon bucket full of salad. Dandelion, or Taraxacum officinale is mostly thought of as a pesky weed but many people value it as a rich source of Vitamins A, B complex, C and D. It packs a lot of zinc, potassium and iron as well. Dandelion roots may be made into tea and the flowers into wine but it is the slightly bitter, arugula-like leaves that most chefs are after. Now is the perfect time to pick dandelions for eating in salads or lightly sautéing. Leaves picked before the flowers open are the most tender and sweet. As the dandelion grows the leaves become tough and too bitter to eat.

If you are like me and have a yard that is not fertilized, sprayed with herbicides or visited by dogs you can safely pick and eat your dandelions. Like any wild herb or plant, some people might be sensitive to dandelion and if you are allergic to ragweed or chrysanthemums you might want to avoid eating dandelions. Never eat any dandelions grown on public property.

Dig your dandelions and pick through to remove any grass, sticks or stray mulch. Fill the sink with cold water and swish the dandelions-roots and all- around to loosen the dirt. If the weather is warm you can do this outside in a bucket. (Probably the best idea if your spouse, partner or roommate is squeamish about a sink full of mud.) As they swish, put the cleaned clumps into a colander to drain. Clean out the sink and fill again with cold water. Use a paring knife to cut off the roots and any brown or yellow leaves and dump the green leaves into the cold water. Again swish the leaves around to dislodge any dirt or sticks. At this point you can separate any unopened flower buds and set them aside for sautéing. I don’t like to eat the buds raw but do like them sautéed with bacon and shallot. Let the dandelion leaves sit in the water for several minutes, swishing the top of the water occasionally to let the dirt settle to the bottom. Lift the leaves out of the water into the colander, then pull the drain and empty the sink. When the leaves are as clean as they can be, put them into a salad spinner, rinse and soak once more and then spin dry. Eat your nutritious weeds raw in a salad or lightly sautéed as in the recipes that follow.

Dandelion Pesto

Makes about ½ cup

I adapted my favorite pesto recipe from West Town Tavern: Contemporary Comfort Food to utilize dandelions instead of basil. We ate this delicious spread on grilled baguette slices with country ham from Tennessee. I can’t wait to try it tossed with potato gnocchi or cheese ravioli. The walnuts give the pesto a sweeter flavor than traditional pine nuts.

¼ cup                    walnut pieces

2 cloves                                garlic, peeled

¾ cup                    grated Parmesan cheese

2 ½ cups               clean dandelion leaves (about 1 ounce)

5 tablespoons    olive oil

¼ teaspoon        kosher salt

Preheat the oven to 325°F. Spread the walnuts on a sheet pan and roast in the hot oven until fragrant and a couple shades darker, about 5-7 minutes. Let cool completely.

Combine the nuts and garlic in the bowl of a food processor fitted with the steel blade. Process until the garlic is finely minced. Add the cheese and dandelion leaves and process until the mixture forms a coarse puree. Scrape down the sides and add the olive oil in a thin stream through the feed tube with the machine running. Add the salt and process until combined.

Sautéed Dandelions with Bacon and Shallot

Serves 2

1 slice                    thick cut bacon, diced

1 large                   shallot, peeled, halved and sliced thinly into half moons

1 handful             dandelion buds and tender shoots

2 handfuls           dandelion leaves

Kosher salt and freshly ground black pepper to taste

1 tablespoon      balsamic vinegar

In a 7” cast iron or other heavy skillet add the bacon and render the fat over medium low heat. Gradually raise the heat to medium high and cook the bacon until crisp.  Remove the bacon with a slotted spoon and drain on paper towels. Add the shallot to the fat in the pan and sauté until limp and beginning to brown. Add the dandelion buds and sauté until they soften, about 3-4 minutes. The buds will start to open revealing the tender yellow flowers inside. Add the dandelion leaves and toss well. Lower the heat and add a splash of water to the pan. Cover the pan and simmer the dandelions until very tender, about 10 minutes. Remove the lid, bring the liquid to a boil and reduce until the dandelions are just coated with liquid. Season with salt, pepper and a splash of balsamic vinegar. Sprinkle the crisp bacon over the greens and serve hot or at room temperature.

Dandelions before cleaning

Dandelion Pesto

I am not a big dessert eater but I have a fondness for shortbread. Those plain, crumbly cookies are perfect as a mid afternoon indulgence or the start of a light dessert with sweet strawberries or luscious pears. The recipe contains only 5 ingredients and the cookies can be kept for a week in an airtight container on the counter making them readily accessible for midnight munching. And so I was greatly dismayed when our chef, Alfonso, noticed that the recipe for Vanilla Bean Shortbread on page 118 of West Town Tavern: Contemporary Comfort Food was wrong. And not just wrong, but unworkable, like the mistake in the pie pastry on page 40.

I considered calling everyone who had ever purchased a cookbook but settled on little pieces of paper with the correction slipped into any cookbook sold from the restaurant as well as this posting. So here is the corrected recipe with a little variation as a goodwill gesture.

Candied Ginger Shortbread

Makes 16 wedges

2 cups all purpose flour
1 teaspoon kosher salt
1 cup unsalted butter, softened (2 sticks)
¼ teaspoon vanilla extract
2 tablespoons finely chopped candied ginger
¾ cup powdered sugar
2 tablespoons turbinado sugar

In a small bowl combine the flour and the salt. In a stand mixer with the paddle attachment beat the butter at medium-high speed until creamy, about 2 minutes.

Add the vanilla extract, the candied ginger and the powdered sugar to the butter and stir to combine. Add the flour mixture and mix on low speed until just combined. Turn the mixer off and remove the bowl.

In a 9 ½” or 10” tart pan with a removable bottom, scrape the dough and pat it into the pan, spreading it to make an even layer. Covering the dough with plastic wrap and pressing on the plastic makes this easier. Sprinkle the surface of the dough heavily with the turbinado sugar. Refrigerate the dough 30 minutes.

Preheat the oven to325°F. Place the tart pan on a baking sheet and bake the shortbread in the lower third of the oven until firm and lightly browned, about 30 minutes. Remove from the oven to a rack and let cool until room temperature before cutting into 16 wedges.

Shortbread can be stored, tightly covered at room temperature for 5 days. The quality of the shortbread depends on sweet, fresh butter taste so longer storage is not recommended. Do not freeze.

For plain vanilla bean shortbread as in the cookbook, use 1 full cup of butter and omit the candied ginger and the vanilla extract. Add the seeds of 1 vanilla bean, split and scraped to the butter in the mixer. Reserve the bean for another use.

New Orleans is different. Drew and I fell in love with New Orleans in the early 1980’s. Was it the uneven, cobblestone streets? Was it the worn, slightly tawdry look of the town? Was it the 300 years of history on the street? Or was it the overall, absolute joy the natives took in eating? Yes, yes, yes and especially yes. For the next twenty years we vacationed in New Orleans as often as we could, sneaking in 3 days here and there. Three days, we reasoned, was enough in New Orleans. Who could eat and drink that much for any longer?

Eventually we purchased a tiny, 350 square foot pied de terre in the French Quarter. Tucked into the back of a charming, overgrown courtyard, with dark green shutters, French doors and squeaky floors it became our Chicago escape. We started frequenting locals-only places and made friends with our neighbors. We stopped using guide books and bought bicycles. We adopted the local dialect and started saying, “where y’at?” and “how’s your mama an’ ‘em”? correctly and without affectation. But it wasn’t until after Katrina that I started cooking.

Most New Orleanians I know think of life today as having two parts: pre storm and post storm. Storm is the word most people use for Katrina and it encompasses not only the hurricane itself but the levee breeches, the general governmental failure, hurricane Rita 3 weeks later as well as the flooding, FEMA trailers and the years of working with the insurance companies to set everything back to normal. But pre-storm normal was not possible. A new normal took its place: a normal that included the disappearance en masse of friends, homes, jobs and restaurants.

I experienced this only on the fringe. I watched the awful tragedy unfold on CNN (Anderson Cooper standing bravely on Canal Street). Communicating with our friends via text (cell phone was iffy and texting seemed to work better) I learned that they had stayed and watched as the water came in through the brick walls in their living room. Stayed as the electricity failed and the city was wrapped in the sticky, humid embrace of summer weather. Stayed as the city, in its usual joyous mode, opened all the wine, grilled all the steaks and ate all the shrimp, crab and oysters that were going to spoil anyway. From my dry, cool Chicago perch I felt a little jealous. For a minute.

A visitor to New Orleans today might not realize a massive storm had devastated the city recently. In their inimitable fashion the residents have rebuilt their lives and the city (with a tiny bit of federal help) has rebuilt its infrastructure. The restaurant scene is booming. Convention business is thriving. Music is back in the streets. The one thing that never really left is the residents’ spirit. This is the spirit that led us to New Orleans in the beginning and pulls us back so often. The spirit that someday may pull us back for good.

I grew up eating cabbage. I loved cole slaw, ate sauerkraut straight from the can and even gobbled my mother’s annual New Year’s Day braised corned beef and cabbage. The cabbage I ate was white or green. It wasn’t until I was an adult that I discovered the jewel-like tones of red cabbage.

Since today is National Cabbage Day I’d like to encourage you to simmer a pan of West Town Tavern’s Zinfandel-Braised Red Cabbage.  This sweet and savory dish is perfect for this weather; try it with a simple roast chicken, good sausages or roasted acorn squash.

Serves 6

2 tablespoons                    canola oil

1 large                                   red onion, peeled, halved and thinly sliced

1 small head                       red cabbage, coarsely shredded

2 teaspoons                       ground allspice

1 teaspoon                         kosher salt

½ teaspoon each              nutmeg, cinnamon and ground black pepper

3/4 cup                                 zinfandel wine

½ cup                                    red wine vinegar

2/3 cup                                 packed dark brown sugar

In a 5-quart sauté pan over medium heat, heat the oil. Add the onion and sauté slowly, stirring occasionally, until browned and caramelized, about 20 minutes. Add the cabbage and stir until wilted. Raise the heat to high and add the spices, stirring well.

Add the wine and bring to a boil, cover pan, lower heat to medium-low and simmer until cabbage is tender and has absorbed the wine, about 15 minutes.

Add the vinegar and sugar and continue to simmer over medium-low heat, stirring occasionally until most of liquid is absorbed and the cabbage is very tender. Serve immediately or reserve at room temperature up to 45 minutes. Reheat if necessary. Cabbage may be refrigerated, covered, for 3 days or frozen for p to 3 weeks.

Adapted with permission from West Town Tavern: Contemporary Comfort Food by Susan Goss with Drew Goss.

Makes 2 quarts, serving 8

1 Tablespoon     canola oil

2 1/3 cups            finely chopped onion

1 quart                  coarsely chopped cremini mushrooms, about 12 ounces

1 ½ cups              coarsely chopped, peeled carrots, about 2

2 cups                   small dice, peeled Idaho potatoes

4 cloves                garlic, peeled, smashed and minced

½ cup                    beer, ale or dry sherry

5 1/3 cups            water

2 large                   bay leaves

1 ½ teaspoons   kosher salt, divided

1 cup                     heavy cream

½ teaspoon        freshly ground black pepper

1 tablespoon      minced fresh thyme leaves

1 tablespoon      grainy mustard

2 tablespoons    Worcestershire sauce

In a 3 quart saucepan over medium heat add the canola oil and heat until hot. Add the onions and carrots and sauté until browned. Add the mushrooms, lower heat to low and cover pan. Steam the mushrooms for 5 minutes until they soften and begin to give up their juices. Uncover pan, raise heat to medium and sauté mushrooms until they are tender. Add the potatoes and garlic.

Add the beer and bring to a boil, stirring. Add the water, bay leaves and ¼ teaspoon of the salt. Bring soup to a boil, reduce heat to low and simmer soup until potatoes are tender, about 15 minutes.

Add the remaining 1¼ teaspoons salt, cream, pepper, thyme, mustard and Worcestershire. Return soup to the boil, reduce the heat and simmer until slightly thickened, about 15 minutes more. Discard the bay leaves. Using a blender wand puree soup slightly if desired.

Serve immediately or cool quickly in an ice bath and refrigerate, covered, up to 5 days.

Tip: Use a mix of mushrooms if desired. You will need about 12 ounces of raw mushrooms before they are trimmed.

Which brings me to the pastrami. Here for our usual vacation this year I made the mistake of mentioning that I had perfected pastrami in Chicago and had planned to bring some down for our friends but had changed my mind at the last minute due to luggage space-or lack thereof. Our friends pouted. They complained. They told me I wouldn’t wear that pair of boots anyway and the space would have been better served holding pastrami. In the spirit of neighborliness and holiday generosity I quickly counted the days I had left in New Orleans and volunteered to re-create the pastrami using the kettle grill in the courtyard. This was met with loud applause and more champagne. Only later Drew asked me, “How are you going to do that?” It was easy enough to order the brisket from our neighborhood grocery store. The owner isn’t really friendly to me yet (after 8 years I am still an outsider) but he said he would accommodate my request. I told him exactly what I wanted (brisket flat, with all the fat left on). It would be ready in 3 days.

When I picked it up the brisket was fully trimmed and cut into pieces because, as he said, “people won’t buy it any other way”). I thought of mentioning that I had ordered it whole and untrimmed but since I had to get it into the brine I just said thank you and hurried the 2 short blocks home.  It was there that Drew’s question began to make sense. How was I going to brine 7 pounds of brisket when I only had a 5 quart bowl and a 3 quart saucepan? Where would I find the essential sodium nitrite that would keep the pastrami rosy? (I begged a couple tablespoons from Cochon and tipped the bartender heavily.)

I rummaged through my neighbor’s cabinets for the requisite spices and mixed up the brine at home using all the pots and bowls in my kitchen in the process. Amazingly, the brisket fit (in two pieces) into the 5 quart bowl and after adding the brine and weighting the beef  with a plate to keep it submerged, I covered the whole thing with foil and shoved it into the fridge where Drew had thoughtfully rearranged the bottles of wine so it would fit.

After a three day soak in the brine the brisket was ready for resting. Just as a roast needs to rest after cooking to redistribute the juices and turn the meat uniformly medium rare, a brined piece of meat needs a 12 hour rest to allow the brine to equalize and the meat to become uniformly salted.

New Year’s Eve I got up early and set up the Weber in the courtyard. Drew made Bloody Marys and we read the newspaper as the coals burned down. A couple quarts of soaked hickory chips started a good, thick smoke and the meat went on the cool side of the grill, opposite the fire and chips. After about 15 minutes of smoke our next door neighbor called our upstairs neighbor to tell them the courtyard was on fire. This brought the rest of the neighbors out and the party was on. Drew made muffins, eggnog appeared and, after an hour or so it was time for lunch. Leftover barbecue from The Joint became smoked chicken poor-boys and champagne corks popped to toast the end of the year. More coals, more wet chips, some basting with Abita, more champagne and the day went by. People came and went and the brisket smoked slowly at about 250°F for the next 8 hours. A little after dark I took the brisket off, wrapped it in foil and closed up the grill. Debbie called down from upstairs to say that dinner would be ready in an hour and to bring up some red wine. I had just enough time to shower the smoke away and change for dinner. Granted, this was a holiday celebration and we were on vacation. Some of our neighbors are retired but a few work full time and work long hours.  Not everyone in New Orleans spends all day feasting. But even a dinner of 2 people can become a feast if there is joy in the eating and drinking. Good food and good friends make every day a holiday and every meal a feast.

Oh yes, the pastrami? Well, the outside was so crusty I couldn’t slice it thinly enough so I called on Debbie to take it to the grocer to slice on his slicer. (Being an outsider, I couldn’t ask for the favor.) I divided the rosy, slightly chewy meat among the neighbors and made a mental note to skip the extra boots (that I didn’t wear) and take food along with me when we return for Mardi Gras.

Perfect snack for National Blondie Day!

Sunday Snack
It is not often that I want a sweet snack. When hunger hits I am usually looking for olives, potato chips or something similarly salty. Today, however, is National Blondie Day and so, when I felt a little restless pang hit I thought, why not?
First off, a little clarification. A blondie is not a vanilla brownie. It is not a cookie. It is a luscious butterscotch-y morsel that is very easy to whip up when hunger strikes or company comes.
At its simplest, a blondie is a bar confection consisting of butter, brown sugar, flour, egg, vanilla and not much else. Melt the butter, whisk everything together in a bowl, bake and in less than an hour you have a yummy snack to share. My recipe only makes an 8”x8” pan which means I don’t have blondies for days. Since I rarely let things be at their simplest, today I added chopped white chocolate, salted macadamia nuts and a slug of good bourbon to my snack. Pretty tasty I must say.
So, happy blondie day everyone-don’t wait til next year to whip up a batch.

White Chocolate-Macadamia Nut Blondies
Makes 16 small squares or 9 ridiculously big ones

½ cup melted unsalted butter, cooled to room temperature
1 cup packed dark brown sugar
1 large egg
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
1 teaspoon good bourbon (I used Michter’s)
½ teaspoon baking powder
1/8 teaspoon baking soda
1/8 teaspoon kosher salt

1 cup all purpose flour

1/3 cup chopped white chocolate
¼ cup chopped salted macadamia nuts

Spray an 8”x8” square baking pan with baking spray and line the pan with parchment paper or foil, leaving a 2” overhang. Set aside. Preheat the oven to 350°F.
Scrape melted butter into a medium bowl and whisk in the sugar. Whisk in the egg until combined.
Add the baking powder, soda, salt and flour and stir well. Fold in the chocolate and nuts. Batter will be stiff.
Scrape batter into prepared pan, smoothing with an offset spatula. Bake until set and a toothpick comes out with a few crumbs, about 20-25 minutes. Do not over bake.
Let blondies cool in the pan on a rack for 10 minutes, then lift paper and blondies out of pan and continue to cool completely. Peel paper or foil from blondies and discard. Cut blondies into 16 pieces. Remember, this is a snack.

The Menu

Meyer Lemon-Crusted Scallop with Avocado-English Pea Salad and Meyer Lemon Syrup.

Chef Nadia Tilkian

Maijean

2009 Alfredo Roca, Chenin Blanc / Chardonnay, San Rafael, Mendoza, Argentina

Anson Mills Farro Salad with Wild Mushrooms, Fava Beans and Evalon Goat’s Milk Cheese

Chef Meg Colleran Sahs

Terzo Piano

2010 Le Cirque, Rosé, Vin de Pays des Côtes Catalanes, Languedoc, France

Ravioletto di Capra e Crescenza

Crescenza cheese and braised Pleasant Meadows goat filled pasta

with Pachino tomato, fresh chick peas and Parmigiano Reggiano

Chef Sarah Grueneberg

Spiaggia

2010 Notro, Sangiovese-Bonarda, Cruz de Piedra, Mendoza, Argentina

Sorghum-Glazed Berkshire Pork Belly with Toasted Barley and Rhubarb-Basil Compote

Chef Susan Goss

West Town Tavern

2009 Chateau Saint Baulery, Saint-Chinian, Grand Vin du Languedoc, France

Milk Chocolate Calvados Cheesecake, almond financier crust, blood orange basil sorbet

Jessica Oloroso

Black Dog Gelato

NV Cases de Pena, Muscat de Rivesaltes,AOCMuscat de Rivesaltes Controlee, Roussillon, France