I know, who makes blueberry perogies anymore? Nobody, that’s who.
And I never have either, until the subject of Alberta cuisine arose earlier this week – and while we’re known for our beef, bison, canola, and really a ton of other great ingredients, there are few dishes that get up and scream Alberta. But homemade perogies – they truly are the food of the prairies. And sure, you could stuff them with any number of potato-cheese-bacon-saurkraut combos, but I wanted to give berries a go – in fact, I suddenly felt as if it would be unpatriotic to not make them. And besides, I wanted to know if they’d translate well into little doughy two-bite pies of sorts. Browned butter, berries and sour cream-oh my.
Perogies fall into that category of foods hardly made from scratch anymore because there’s no need. At one time perogy bees were the social events of the season – the original social medium – wherein folks would gather to catch up, gossip, discuss politics and together solve the problem of how to feed their families. This is what girls did before Starbucks, I guess.
Multitasking is not new – at peroghy bees thousands of perogies could be assembled in an afternoon to feed families, raise funds, or in preparation for social events. I love the thought that at one time weddings didn’t have ginormous trade shows and magazines and everyone just got married in the church where they lived, and the community got together to make perogies and dainties to serve afterward. Is that just in my head, having grown up watching Little House on the Prairie? I loved that show. I so wanted to be Mary, except for the blind part.
This dough is one of many versions out there, and simple to mix together. The finished perigees were boiled, then scooped out of the pot with a slotted spoon and browned in a hot pan with butter until they were golden and crisp on both sides.
You don’t have to fill them with blueberries, of course, if you don’t want to – take the leftover mashed potatoes from dinner, add a handful of grated cheese, and set the kids at the kitchen table with an after-school project.
OR. Gather a few pals and bring back the bee. Which brings me to my idea. (Insert eye-roll via Mike.) I think it’s been too long since our last playdate, which was before Christmas, come to think of it. Should we have our own perogy bee? Should we? Should we?
I’ll make dough, and get some bubbly, everyone can bring a filling, and we’ll open the back door and let the spring air breeze in while we cover the house with dough and flour. And I’ll enlist Mike to clean-up duty with the promise of homemade peroghies with bacon, onions and sour cream.
And blueberry perogies for dessert.
Blueberry or Saskatoon Berry Perogies
adapted from Canadian Living
Dough:
3 cups all-purpose flour
1/2 tsp. baking powder
pinch salt
2 Tbsp. butter, melted
3/4 cup milk
1 large egg
1/3 cup water (approx)
Filling:
2/3 cup sugar
1 Tbsp. all-purpose flour
2 cups fresh or frozen (don’t thaw them) blueberries or saskatoon berries
butter, for cooking (optional)
sour cream or whipped cream, for serving
In a large bowl, stir together the flour, baking powder and salt. In a small bowl (or Pyrex measuring cup) stir together the butter, milk and egg; add to the flour mixture and stir until you have a dry, shaggy mixture. Add the water about a third at a time, until you have a soft, slightly sticky dough. Knead it about 10 times, then cover with a towel or plastic wrap and let rest on the countertop for 20 minutes.
To make the filling, stir together the sugar and flour; stir in the blueberries. On lightly floured surface, roll out the dough to a scant 1/4-inch thickness. Using a 3-inch round cutter, cut into rounds. Stretch each round slightly; fill with a spoonful of the blueberry mixture, ensuring you get some of the sugar-flour in there as well.
Pull dough over filling into semicircle; pinch edges together to seal. Cover with tea towel. Repeat with remaining dough and filling. Freeze in a single layer or cook immediately.
In large pot of lightly salted water, boil perogies in batches, until they float to the top and the dough is tender, about 10 minutes. With slotted spoon, transfer to dish; drizzle with butter to prevent sticking. If you like, brown the well-drained boiled perogies in a hot pan with butter until crisp and golden; dribble the remaining butter from the pan overtop. Serve with sour cream or whipped cream. Makes about 3 dozen peroghies.
April 25 2012 | breakfast and dessert and freezable | 42 Comments »
This week, I’ve had a love affair with pork. All parts of the pig – its loin, its shoulder, its butt.
It started on our drive home from Tofino, when we swung by Meat & Bread between ferry dock and highway. It’s worth the trip – or pilgrimage, even – for a porchetta sandwich with cracklings, served with salsa verde, a brilliant green slurry of fresh Italian parsley, garlic, lemon and olive oil that acted as a bright, fresh, citrusy foil against the rich pork.
I became preoccupied with said porchetta, and so when I went for coffee with our new neighbours, Cafe Gravity in Inglewood, and the owner, a recent transplant from the corporate world who went to India, had an epiphany and decided to open a cafe, pulled up a chair and asked for menu advice, I suggested he might be able to easily roast pork in his teeny kitchen for real-food sandwiches.
A pork shoulder is a little more low-maintenance than a pork loin, which could be susceptible to drying out – pork shoulder needs only to be rubbed with flavour (a spice rub, garlic, chopped fresh herbs, oil, salt & pepper – any combination of these), seared to caramelize the exterior and then set to cook over low heat for 3 hours or more, its fat keeping it moist, and tough connective tissues breaking down with time and heat. Roast pork with salsa verde is a classic pairing, and so we gave it a go this past Friday, just to try – we roasted 5 shoulders and whizzed up salsa verde, and served up a free lunch to hungry hoards, alerted to our goings-on purely via Twitter. Andy put out a donation jar for a local charity, and a good time was had by all.
Note: This isn’t authentic porchetta, which has great cultural relevance in Italy – pork is deboned, layered with stuffing, fat, and skin then rolled, spitted, and roasted – and I’m sure it’s pretty ambrosial, in no small part because you’re eating it in Italy. But this version is just as heavenly, particularly when it’s finally warm enough to eat in flip-flops and not worry about drips. Roast pork, let me tell you, makes a pretty fab sandwich, loaded onto focaccia or a soft roll; but my fingers make the best delivery system – I recommend crispy bits picked straight from the cutting board, dripping with garlicky salsa verde.
Porchetta-style Roast Pork with Salsa Verde
adapted from two different issues of Bon Appétit
For the pork:
1 4-5 lb. boneless pork shoulder
canola or olive oil
5-6 garlic cloves, crushed
spice rub of your choice, or a tablespoon or two each finely chopped fresh rosemary and sage
coarse salt and freshly ground black pepper (if you aren’t using a salty rub)
On a cutting board, pat your pork dry with a paper towel, then drizzle with oil and rub all over to coat. Rub with garlic, then sprinkle with spice mixture or herbs, salt and pepper and rub them in too.
Preheat oven to 450°F, or preheat your grill to high. Put the pork in a roasting pan and slide it into the oven, or grill it all over, turning with tongs, until nicely golden on all sides. If you’re doing it in the oven, roast for 20-30 minutes, then turn the heat down to 300°F. If you grilled it, turn the oven on to 300°F, transfer the pork to a roasting pan or baking dish and put it in the oven.
Cover and roast for 3 1/2-4 hours, until very tender. If you think of it, take the lid off when you have about an hour left to go. Transfer pork to cutting board and let rest 15 minutes. Slice and serve with pan drippings or salsa verde.
Salsa Verde:
2-3 garlic cloves, peeled & chopped
1 small bunch fresh Italian parsley, leaves chopped (discard stems)
zest and juice of half a lemon
1 Tbsp. red wine vinegar
1/2 cup good-quality olive oil
In the bowl of a food processor, pulse everything but the olive oil until well blended and chopped. With the motor running, add the olive oil through the feed tube. Add a pinch of salt, and dribble on porchetta sandwiches.
April 23 2012 | pork | 13 Comments »
This one’s going to be short and spicy. Pun fully intended.
There is no way to make this pretty, but damn, it’s yummy. Like hummus meets refried beans with a kick of sriracha – the perfect car snack when you need something munchy but with some semblance of nutritional value. I’m not against junky nibbles on road trips, but always feel a bit like a movie theatre floor by the time we arrive wherever it is we’re going.
No road trips this week, but plenty of eating at my desk. This.
Spicy Red Kidney Bean Dip
(adapted from Nigella Lawson, by way of the lovely Jeannette Ordas of Everybody Likes Sandwiches)
canola or olive oil, for cooking
1 onion, finely chopped
4 garlic cloves, crushed
pinch salt
1 Tbsp. curry paste
2 Tbsp. tomato sauce
1/2 tsp. garam masala
1 19 oz. (540 mL) can red kidney beans, rinsed and drained
juice of a lemon
a squirt of sriracha (the more, the spicier)
1 tsp. maple syrup or honey
In a medium skillet set over medium-high heat, heat a drizzle of oil and saute the onion and and garlic until soft. Add the salt, curry paste, tomato sauce, garam masala and cook for a few minutes, until nice and fragrant.
Put the kidney beans into the bowl of a food processor and add the cooked onion mixture. Add the lemon juice, sriracha and maple syrup and pulse until as chunky or smooth as you like. Adjust seasonings if necessary. Cool and refrigerate overnight (it’s even better the next day, and the day after that), and serve with pita chips, torn fresh pitas, tortilla chips, crackers or vegetable sticks.
April 19 2012 | appetizers and beans | 11 Comments »
I haven’t made scalloped potatoes in over a decade. It’s nothing personal, it’s just that I never made scalloped potatoes that weren’t disappointing. I made them with warmed milk, and by simmering the potatoes in the milk first, then baking the partially cooked milky potato sludge. No dice.
Tonight I made scalloped potatoes because I was baking a ham, and I figured I’d best get back on that horse. (W asked me to roast him a ham as a bedtime snack earlier this week, and so because entire baked hams are not standard bedtime fare, I promised one on the weekend.) The two go together, don’t you think? And can only be served on a Sunday. All is well with the world when you find yourself at a table full of people, a sticky baked ham and a big pan of warm scalloped potatoes on a Sunday.
As it turns out, the two are soul mates, requiring the same time and attention in the oven – perhaps the reason they have come to be companions at the table.
The ham was a cinch. Unwrap, dump in pan, put in the oven. Go about making scalloped potatoes, slide them into the oven alongside. (350F is fine.) After about an hour, slide both out. Brush the ham with glaze (any kind) and take the foil off the potatoes. If you like, scatter a handful of grated cheese (cheddar, Gouda, Gruyere – whatevs) overtop if you like. Turn the oven up to 375F and slide them both back into the oven for another 20 minutes or so, until the top of the potatoes is bubbly and golden, and the ham is sticky and glazed.
Because there was a large jar of apricot jam in the fridge that wasn’t going anywhere fast, I used some – spooned about 1/3 cup into a ramekin, microwaved it enough to be brushable, and stirred in a couple tablespoons of brown sugar, a splash of balsamic and squirt (a tablespoon?) of grainy mustard. You can really do what you like here – the key is to brush it on toward the end, as sugary glazes can burn if they spend too much time in the oven.
This is likely the standard formula for scalloped potatoes out there – thinly sliced potatoes layered with a bit of onion, baked in a creamy plain white sauce – but mine came from Canadian Living.
(I opened up the oven and tossed a handful of cheese overtop toward the end. A good idea, no?)
Classic Scalloped Potatoes
4-5 russet or large Yukon gold potatoes, scrubbed (don’t bother peeling them)
1 small onion
Sauce:
1/4 cup butter
1/4 cup all-purpose flour
2 1/2 – 3 cups milk
1 tsp. fresh or 1/2 tsp. dried thyme (optional)
salt & pepper
1/2-1 cup grated cheese (cheddar, Gouda, Gruyere or a combination – optional)
Thinly slice the potatoes and onion – use a mandolin if you have one; you want them as thin as possible. In a medium saucepan, melt the butter and whisk in the flour. You should have a thick paste. Whisk in the milk (I started with the 2 1/2 cups the recipe called for, but wound up adding another splash because I thought it seemed a little thick) along with the thyme and some salt and pepper. Bring to a simmer and cook, stirring, for a minute.
Layer the potatoes and onion in a buttered baking dish; about a third of the potatoes, half the onions, another third of the potatoes, the rest of the onions and the rest of the potatoes. Pour sauce over top, and move a few of the potatoes around with the tip of a knife to let some of the sauce ooze between the layers.
Cover with foil and bake at 350F for 1 hour. Uncover, scatter with cheese if you like, and bake until lightly browned and potatoes are tender, about 20 minutes longer. Let stand for 5 minutes before serving. Serves 6-8.
We finished with a pan of warm chocolate chunk browned butter blondies at the table with coffee – inspired by the remains of a solid Easter bunny that had been taking up space on the kitchen counter. With a few extra around the table, I figured a little something sweet for dessert was in order. Blondies, like brownies, are dense and chewy – but are even quicker to mix together and bake. I stirred the batter together (browning the butter first) and slid the pan into the oven as we ate, so that they were warm and I needed only to bring the pan to the table after dinner. If only we had a tub of vanilla ice cream…
April 15 2012 | pork and veg | 14 Comments »
I have no exciting way to introduce you to this salad of sorts; suffice to say it has taken care of many lunches, and even a few dinners over the past few weeks. It’s the Ichiban salad of my childhood, glammed up with chunks of roasted chicken, and made extra toasty by popping crushed dry noodles in the toaster oven along with the sliced almonds. (Note: do not leave the toaster oven to go check your email. For real.) The resulting jumble is crunchy, sweet and sour, and makes a satisfying sum of its parts. Also: a ginormous bag of coleslaw mix (enough to last at least a week) costs $3, a packet of noodles about a quarter, and a handful of almonds aint much. You also get the health plusses of all that slaw, and the nuts, and a few peas if you want to add the dregs of the bowl of leftovers from the other night. (OK… honestly? I put them in there so I could call it chicken noodle salad. I thought it was catchy. It is kinda fun though, right?)
More selling points: If you’re starving when you get home, it can be put together in under ten minutes, before you devour two pieces of toast and a handful of granola. All the things in it keep well enough to keep on hand in the cupboard or fridge – cabbage has staying power. (You don’t have to add roasted chicken, but if there’s some in the freezer or fridge, it’s a Very Good Thing.)
I’m going to drive structured recipe lovers crazy for awhile here, because this is again one that gets tossed together without reference to measurements.
For two big pasta-size bowls, or enough to put on the dinner table as a side, here’s what I do:
- Crush a bag of Ichiban noodles (spicy chicken is my fave, although you’ll just use a sprinkle of the packet) in its bag, then open it up and shake the contents out onto a baking sheet – it should fit in the toaster oven. Add a handful of sliced almonds and toast until everything smells nutty.
- Mound a generous amount of thinly sliced cabbage or coleslaw mix in a bowl. A couple handfuls per person, I’d say.
- Get a jar, and pour in about 1/4 cup olive or canola oil, 2-3 Tbsp. sugar (it’s sweet), 3-4 Tbsp. rice vinegar and a sprinkle of the seasoning packet. Shake it up.
- Add the toasty nuts n’ noodles to the slaw, add some chopped chicken if you like, and drizzle the lot with dressing. You probably won’t need all of it, but that part is up to you. Toss and eat.
Now I’m all hungry.
April 12 2012 | chicken & turkey and salads | 12 Comments »
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