Sunchokes and a twist on patate pizza

At the Union Square greenmarket late on a Saturday, I stopped at the Paffenroth Gardens stand looking for some butternut squash. Two of the women working at the farm stand table were discussing the miracle-like qualities of sunchokes, aka Jerusalem artichokes, to cure diabetes. I stood there long enough to pretend to be examining the produce left on the table to overhear claims of how eating these little knobby tubers regulated a woman's blood sugar levels. I was intrigued. Maybe I should be eating these? Why aren't I eating these? I grabbed a green net pint box and started filling it up with these unimpressive looking veggies. I quickly checked with the above mentioned sales lady, "I cook these just like a potato?", I asked. "Yep," "However you like your potatoes, you'll like these. Roast them, or mash them." I threw them in my bag and off I went feeling brave and adventurous, completely forgetting about the obligatory butternut squash. 

I went home and all my plans of roasted sunchokes went out the window when the memory of Jim Lahey's Patate Pizzathat you can get at the Sullivan Street Bakery suddenly came to mind. And that's all I could think about. Forget roasting and mashing, I needed to know if the supposed delicate flavor of the sunchokes could star in their own version of a pizza. Lahey's potato pizza is the stuff of my dreams. Bread and potatoes and cheese being high up there on my list of foods that make me happy. I'm a simple girl, really. If you have never been to the Sullivan Street Bakery, you need to go. If your scared of carbs, I can only suggest you stop living in the past, and start embracing the staff of life. I used the dough I already had in my refrigerator for the pizza dough. It was a whole wheat dough from Artisan Bread in 5 Minutes a Day that I keep in there to make batches of bread, but it also works in a pinch for pizza, as long as you're down with whole wheat pizza. That's where my "healthy" pizza attempts max out. I'll admit I could use a little work on the shaping of the crust. For the record, I was attempting a nice rectangle shape. At this point I was sort of winging it after consulting a few non-tomato sauce pizza recipes. I flavored the sunchokes much in the same way I would have had I roasted them - sauteing them in a pan with a little olive oil, some sliced garlic, fresh rosemary and salt and pepper. I sliced them on a mandolin first to ensure they'd be paper thin and pretty looking. For full disclosure, I should tell you that in addition to the amazing healthy properties sunchokes can have on your body, I have also read a lot about them being hard to digest, and causing some embarrasing gastro issues. I didn't notice any problems, but I did take the time to peel them first, since some sources suggested the culprit was in the skin. For a better discussion of the effects, see the very scientific and very opinionated comments on this post. If I was the type of person to have cocktail get-togethers in my fabulous loft, I would consider serving this in slices. However, I am definitely the type of person that pushes the limits on how much sugar she consumes, so I will consider eating more insulin- regulating-vegetables that can be served in the form of pizza. And, so should you.

Sunchoke Pizza Use a fresh store-bought dough, or your favorite pizza dough recipe. If you are an Artisan Bread in 5-Minutes a Day convert, use any of the recipes they suggest for Pizza dough.

1 pint of sunchokes, sliced on a mandolin (peeling is optional) 2-3 garlic cloves 3 sprigs fresh rosemary, or to taste 1-2 tablespoons olive oil 3/4 cup freshly grated Parmesan or Pecorino cheese

Scrub clean the sunchokes and slice them on a mandolin, or in even slices about 1/8 inch thin. Slice garlic cloves.

Heat olive oil in a saute pan until hot, add the sunchokes and garlic and rosemary and cook until the sunchokes taste almost completely cooked, meaning not totally mushy soft, but wilted. Keep an eye on it to not burn the garlic. Season to taste with salt and pepper.

Roll out your pizza crust. Brush with olive oil. Top with sunchokes, overlapping them as you fill the pizza surface. Leave an inch around the edges for the crust. Sprinkle the top with cheese.

Let cool slightly, slice and enjoy.

Bake at 450 degrees Fahrenheit on a pizza stone for about 10 minutes or until the crust appears done and cheese is melted.

First-Night-Carciofi-alla-Judea

Hanukkah may have some traditional foods, potato latkes (aka potato pancakes) and sufganiyot (aka jelly doughnuts), but in general the rule is anything fried goes. So, while shopping for potatoes to make latkes, I changed my plans when I saw these striking artichokes in the market. I had to have them. They were beautiful and festive, perfect for a holiday meal. Next, I set out to think about what I could do with artichokes for the first night of Hanukkah. I recalled reading about a fried artichoke preparation that originated in the Jewish ghetto of Rome, simply called Carciofi alla Judea (for more about the history of this dish click here). I have never had one of these prepared for me, but I thought, "how could anything fried taste bad?" Unfortunately, there was nothing miraculous about this meal, except for the amount of olive oil I wasted. I jumped on this idea, lured by images of lightly browned, crunchy, earthy artichoke petals that would impress you and inspire you to put down the potatoes and fry something different. I didn't do my research. If I had I would have seen that this dish is best prepared with baby artichokes, for their more tender leaves. I might also have realized that frying them whole was an option, as used in some other versions of this recipe. The recipe that I found and put my faith in (it was on a great Jewish blog after all) called for peeling off the tough outer leaves and slicing the artichoke in half before you start on the two-step process of cooking them in a mixture of olive oil and water until softened (see the photo above), and then frying them until crispy. My artichokes looked like fried goodness, glistening as they came out of the olive oil. After a sprinkle of some fleur de sel salt and a squeeze of lemon I could barely wait to grab a piece. I started with the outer leaves that looked more well-done, hoping that it would taste like a crispy french fry. Not exactly. The tops of the leaves were tough and difficult to chew, if not near impossible. "Ok", I thought, not giving up hope, "the inside leaves will be better". They were better, but not great. In the end, I resorted to eating the leaves as if they were steamed, scraping the tender bottom part off and discarding the rest of the leaf. We agreed that it seemed like a waste and definitely not the intended result. The one saving grace of this dish was the artichoke heart. I guess that's why I couldn't be too upset. It was tender and a bit smoky tasting from the oil. It was definitely good eating, especially with a bit more salt. I'm sure my inexperience in making these was to blame for the flawed result. However, I bet they could be spectacular when done correctly, so please do not let that discourage you from trying this dish (just make sure to get baby artichokes). And, the best part of Hanukkah, there are 7 more nights to fry things and get them right.

Carciofi alla Giudia Reprinted from The Jew and the Carrot (http://www.jcarrot.org)

4 medium sized artichokes (look for vegetables with soft, long, flexible stems) 1 lemon Plenty of olive oil Sea salt to taste

Fill a large bowl with water and the juice of one lemon. Working one artichoke at a time, trim the stem to 1 1/2 – 2 inches. Using a vegetable peeler, remove the outer dark green layer of the stem, revealing the softer, lighter green center. Cut off the artichoke’s thorny top (horizontally) using a serrated knife and then carefully slice the artichoke in half, (vertically).

Remove the artichoke’s tough outer leaves until only the soft inner leaves remain. Using a small spoon, remove the hairy “choke” at the center of each artichoke half. (It may seem like you are wasting a lot of the plant –which is kind of true. Assuage your guilt by composting them!)

At this point, open your windows and turn on a fan!

Fry #1: Select a pot that is large enough to comfortably hold all of the artichoke halves. Place them in the pot, fill with oil until chokes are half covered. Then add water to cover. Bring pot to a simmer and cook, uncovered, about 15 minutes until they are cooked but not too soft. Remove with tongs and place on a platter.

Fry #2: Heat about one inch of oil in a cast iron pan (or other heavy pan). Using a pair of tongs, and lots of care, place the choke halves side down in the oil. Be really careful–hot oil splatters and hurts.

Fry for about 12 minutes, flipping the chokes halfway through, until brown and crispy on both sides. Turn off the heat and remove the fried chokes with tongs. Place onto paper towels to drain. Sprinkle with salt and serve warm.

A-Smashing-Chicken-Potato-Tomato-Bake

Simple pleasures are best, right? Well, dinner tonight was simple, so I guess that's why it was also the best one I've had in quiet awhile. I made an improvised winter version of a Jamie Oliver recipe for chicken thighs. Seasonal swaps included - summery cherry tomatoes for good quality canned Italian ones, and fresh oregano for some rosemary. I made do with skinless chicken this time, although the alternative would have been much better since the recipe called for frying the chicken until three-quarters of the way cooked first. I missed out on crispy skin, but this extra step (rather than just throwing it all in a pan to bake) was such a great idea that I got a good sear on mine and it still turned out delicious. This one's a keeper folks. A word about chicken. Chicken thighs are the best part of the chicken. I think if you have to choose one part to cook, that's the one you should go with, it's hard to mess up really. It's white meat's, more juicy cousin. The expression, "juicy thighs" must have it's origin from a man who knew his way around a chicken. (Ok, I may have just grossed myself out there, but maybe now you'll remember it). I didn't even realize I really liked chicken until I made the switch to using dark meat after eating one too many chicken strips in salad that tasted no better than styrofoam popcorn.

The genius of this simple recipe is that it is cooked in separate parts almost completely, and then bakes together with a vinaigrette poured over for flavor. The result is crispier chicken and perfect roasted potatoes. It was hearty but not heavy. I finished it with a dash of balsamic vinegar right before I served it because I just love balsamic and rosemary together. It was a success despite the substitutions. This rustic chicken bake is a simple pleasure you should try, but would you mind coming over and doing my dishes for me first? That would be lovely.

Chicken Potato Tomato Bake

Adapted from Jamie at Home, by Jamie Oliver.

1 lb. small potatoes (new potatoes, red potatoes, whatever is in season) 6 boneless chicken thighs, preferably free-range, antibiotic free chicken Olive oil 1 14oz. can of diced or whole tomatoes, drained of juices Fresh rosemary, a few sprigs Red wine vinegar and balsamic vinegar

Scrub the potatoes and put them to cook in a pot of boiling, salted water.

Preheat oven to 400 degrees Fahrenheit.

Clean chicken and cut each thigh into 2-3 pieces. Put in a bowl and toss to coat with a few tablespoons of olive oil and kosher salt and freshly ground pepper. Heat a heavy oven safe skillet and fry chicken, skin side down until almost cooked, about three quarters of the way done. You may need to do this in batches. Don't move the chicken or flip it or you'll lose the sear.

When potatoes are fork-tender, drain and place in a bowl. Lightly smash each one with a fork. Set aside. Drain tomatoes and set aside.

Make the vinaigrette either in a mortar and pestle or finely chop the rosemary and muddle with about 3 tablespoons of olive oil and 1 tablespoon of the red wine vinegar, and pepper.

Once all the chicken is cooked, place it all back in the pan with the potatoes and tomatoes tucked in around it. Pour the vinaigrette over the pan and bake in oven for about 25 minutes, or until chicken is no longer pink. Before serving, splash a bit of balsamic vinegar over the dish.