Dinner With Julie

Caramelized Spinach Gnudi with Browned Butter

We spent the long weekend at home, puttering. Staring at gaping holes in the ceiling and barely (if at all) functioning kitchen appliances and broken windows and walls that are easier at this point to paint than to clean and making a ginormous to-do list for it all. Considering the domino effect that starting to change this and that has on a house, it seems kitchen renos are not only unavoidable, but imminent. Which of course means no kitchen for awhile. TRY NOT TO PANIC.

We got used to the idea of eating out by doing it this weekend. Since we were mostly trying to find homes for things, cleaning/organizing/yard work-ing, I didn’t cook a whole lot, but did use up a big bunch of spinach by making gnudi – sort of like larger, lighter, lumpier gnocchi – and sauteing the little dumplings in browned butter. Spring, hello.

I love gnocchi, and it’s even fun to make, without the need to own and manipulate a a pasta machine. But more often than not – even when we do eat out – I feel afterwards as if I’ve eaten a bowl of dough lumps. They can be too dense, too heavy, too chewy. Not always, but it happens.

Gnudi are far lighter – so much so that it can seem as if they won’t hold themselves together.
(The first time I made them, they didn’t.)

You shape them by scooping up a spoonful, then passing them back and forth from one spoon to another to shape in kind of pointy-ended egg shapes – yes, making quenelles – which is impossible to do without feeling all Top Cheffy about it. If you have no idea what I’m talking about and need a little video on how-to quenelle, there are many online. Like this one.)

You then dust them with flour, and gently, gingerly boil them. And then, like most gnocchi, they’re perfectly OK to eat as-is, with a dribble of browned butter.

But if you want to go one step further – and why wouldn’t you? – you can brown them in a hot pan with browned butter, making them all toasty and caramelized on the outside. Oh yes.

And if you have a teeny cast iron skillet you picked up for a few dollars at a garage sale (’tis the season!), all the better.

Is there anything better than crispy bits with browned butter and cheese? I think not.

Spinach Gnudi with Browned Butter

1 bunch (about 1 lb.) fresh spinach or chard
1 cup ricotta
1/2 cup grated Parmesan
1 large egg
1 Tbsp. melted butter
1/4 tsp. freshly grated nutmeg
salt and freshly ground black pepper
3/4 cup all-purpose flour, plus extra for dusting

1/4 cup butter
extra Parmesan, for serving

Bring a medium pot of water to a boil. Roughly chop the spinach, discarding any big stems, and put it into the boiling water. Cook for 3 minutes, then drain in a colander and set aside to cool. Press out as much extra moisture as possible, and finely chop the pile of cooked greens on a chopping board.

In a large bowl, gently stir together the spinach, ricotta, Parmesan, egg and butter. Season with nutmeg, salt and pepper. Gently stir in the flour, being careful not to overwork it, and set aside for 10-15 minutes.

Meanwhile, melt the 1/4 cup butter in a small saucepan set over medium-high heat. Continue cooking after it melts; it will foam, then turn golden and nutty. Remove from the heat and set aside. Bring a medium pot of salted water to a simmer.

Use two medium spoons to shape the dough into quenelles (small tapered ovals) by scraping about half a spoonful back and forth between the spoons. Place on a floured surface and shake a little extra flour overtop. Gently drop a few gnudi at a time into the simmering water, ensuring that it doesn’t reach a rolling boil, which could break apart the delicate dumplings. Cook for a few minutes, or until they float to the top; at this point you can remove them with a slotted spoon and set aside on a plate.

Serve the gnudi immediately, drizzled with browned butter, with extra Parmesan cheese passed at the table. Serves 4.

May 20 2013 | appetizers and pasta | 7 Comments »

Damp Chocolate Brownie Cake

Sorry. I’ve been a neglectful blogger, leaving you with videos instead of recipes and not sticking around to chat much. There’s a reason for that – it’s called Rolling Spoon, and it’s a new website I just launched on Monday with my friend Elizabeth, who in a previous life was a music writer/editor/teenage ‘zine-maker. It’s a place where food and music intersect – we figured that the best way to get to know someone is by sitting down to a meal with them, so why not host dinner parties with our favourite musicians and bands, and document them? And ask to peek into their fridges, talk about food memories and get into the kitchen and cook together? Fun, right? We thought so.

So there’s that. But I’ve been wanting to tell you about this cake I made last weekend, a cake that should have been written off as a disaster, but it was too delicious. It’s a reminder to not judge a book by its cover, as it were. The batter was thin, and made with water of all things. It crawled up and over the sides of the pan and tried to escape from the oven, leaving (delicious) almost-burnt puddles on the baking sheet. I tweeted that I was making it, and a few asked if they should follow suit. My initial reaction, as I picked baked-on chocolate waterfall from the edge of the pan, was probably not.

And then I tasted it.

Dudes.

It’s an ugly (as far as cakes go), disastrous-looking, delicious damp cake. (This word – damp – is how Nigella described it, and I loved the use of the word in relation to cake. The memory of a damp chocolate cake stuck long enough for me to instantly recognize it when I saw that it had become one of Molly‘s old-sock recipes – and yet I had never made one. It’s half brownie, half cake, baked in a loaf pan. I don’t know what it is, but it’s worth making. It’s a perfect sort of chocolate thing to have sitting on your kitchen table if you, like me, are the type to slice off a nibble each time you pass by.

It was just as good – better, even? – the next day. And spread with peanut butter? Please.

Damp Chocolate Brownie Cake

adapted from Nigella’s How to Be a Domestic Goddess, by way of Remedial Eating

1 cup butter, at room temp.
1 2/3 cup packed brown sugar, preferably dark
2 large eggs
1 Tbsp. vanilla
2 tsp. instant espresso or coffee granules
1/2 tsp. salt
4 oz dark or bittersweet chocolate, melted
1 1/3 cups all-purpose flour
1 tsp. baking soda
1 cup boiling water

Preheat the oven to 375° F. Butter or spray a 9×5″ loaf tin, and line the width with a strip of parchment, overhanging the long sides by a few inches on each side for easy removal later.

In a large bowl, beat the butter and brown sugar until light and fluffy. Beat in the eggs one at a time, scraping down the sides of the bowl. In a small dish, stir together the vanilla, instant espresso and salt; add to the butter mixture and mix to combine.

Stir in the melted, slightly cooled chocolate, then add the flour and baking soda, stirring just to combine. Add the boiling water slowly and carefully, beating on low or stirring by hand to prevent sloshing. It will have the consistency of buttermilk – far thinner than a regular cake batter. Pour into the lined tin, place on a rimmed baking sheet and bake for 30 minutes, then turn the oven down to 325° F and continue to cook for another 15-25 minutes. You can tell it’s done when the middle of the top is matte; no longer shiny, loose and wobbly. As Molly puts it, a knife in the center will not return the standard dry crumb, but neither do you want a long streak of batter – very damp crumbs are ideal.

Let the cake cool in its pan on a wire rack – it will sink in the middle, and it’s supposed to. Lift it out using the parchment “handles” and serve in slices. Serves 8 or so.

May 15 2013 | cake and dessert | 13 Comments »