Cook the eggs in a saucepan of boiling water for 4 minutes if at sea level, a minute longer if at higher altitude. Run under cold water to cool slightly, then carefully peel off the shells.
Arrange the grated beets, carrots, and radish slices attractively on a wide platter. Gently tear the soft eggs open and arrange in the center of the platter. Season with salt, pepper, and the remaining 1½ teaspoons thyme leaves. Drizzle with the vinaigrette and serve.
Beet and Orange Salad with Arugula and Feta
Sweet beets, sharp red onion, and slightly tangy, sweet orange all make strong flavor statements that stand out like soloists in a jazz combo. The salty, creamy feta pulls them together into a harmonic whole. When I can find them, I use navel oranges from Corrientes and Entre Rios, in our tropical north. We call them umbilicus, which sounds quite sexy to me. SERVES 4
1 large red beet
1 large golden beet
1 navel orange
1 red onion
2 cups baby arugula
2 ounces feta cheese
2 teaspoons fresh thyme leaves
Coarse sea salt and freshly ground black pepper
Extra virgin olive oil for drizzling
Heat an horno or the oven to 375°F.
Wrap each beet in foil and roast for 1 hour, or until they are tender all the way through when pierced with a skewer.
While the beets are roasting, using a sharp knife, slice off the peel from the orange, carefully removing all the pith. Slice thinly.
Slice the onion very thin on a mandoline.
When the beets are done, let them cool enough to handle, then remove the skin and slice them about ⅓ inch thick, keeping the colors separate so they don’t bleed into each other.
Arrange most of the arugula, the beet slices, sliced onion, and orange segments on a wide platter. Crumble the feta over the top and add the rest of the arugula and the thyme. Season with salt, pepper, and a good drizzle of olive oil and serve.
Fig Salad with Burrata and Basil
I first discovered burrata when I was working in a wonderful restaurant, San Domenico, in the town of Imola in Emilia-Romagna, Italy. Burrata has three distinct textures: a soft skin; an interior layer of smooth, solid mozzarella; and a core of beautiful cream. It needs crunchy sea salt for both texture and flavor. Tearing the figs by hand is very important to the look of this dish—it is seductively rustic. SERVES 4
4 large fresh figs
1 burrata, about 7 ounces
12 large fresh basil leaves, torn
Coarse sea salt and freshly ground black pepper
1 lemon, halved
Extra virgin olive oil for drizzling
Tear the figs open and arrange them in a wide shallow bowl.
Pat the burrata dry, tear it into 4 large pieces, and nestle them among the torn figs. Tear the basil leaves into pieces and scatter over the figs and cheese.
Season to taste with salt, pepper, lemon juice, and a good drizzle of olive oil.
Tomato and Avocado Salad
This salad relies completely on the quality of its ingredients—ripe Hass avocados and heirloom tomatoes at their peak, perfect basil leaves, and seriously good olive oil. Then a squeeze of lemon, fleur de sel, and a few grinds of black pepper are all that’s required. SERVES 4
2 ripe Hass avocados
1 lemon, halved
2½ pounds heirloom tomatoes, cut into cubes
12 large perfect fresh basil leaves, torn
Fleur de sel
Freshly ground black pepper
Extra virgin olive oil for drizzling
Halve the avocados, remove the pits, and coat the cut surfaces with lemon juice to prevent darkening. Arrange on individual plates with the tomatoes and basil. Season to taste with fleur de sel and pepper, and drizzle with olive oil.
Griddled Red Bartlett Pears Wrapped in Iberico Ham
This simple dish is cooked on a chapa, and the crispness of the ham and the softness of the pears provide a delicious contrast of textures. Made with only four ingredients, it is a dish I like not only for its flavor, but also because it can be ready for guests within a few minutes of starting a fire. Iberico ham has the nuance of flavor of the finest Burgundy from the vineyards of Romanée-Conti. In Spain, the ham is often served with a medium-dry sherry. Here, the fruitiness, acidity, and sweetness of the pear achieve the same result.
If you can’t get Iberico, regular serrano ham or prosciutto or even country ham is a good choice. SERVES 4
4 ripe Red Bartlett or Anjou pears
12 thin slices Iberico ham
Coarse sea salt and freshly ground black pepper
Slice the (unpeeled) pears about ½ inch thick (see photo, page 34). You should get 3 good slices out of each pear.
Heat a chapa or a large cast-iron griddle over low heat. Wrap each slice of pear in a slice of ham and arrange them seam side down on the hot surface. Cook until the fruit begins to soften and the ham is crisp on the bottom, about 3 minutes. Turn carefully, sprinkle with salt and pepper, and continue cooking until the pears are tender and the ham on the second side is crisp, about 3 minutes more. Serve immediately.
Griddled Red Bartlett Pears Wrapped in Iberico Ham.
Griddled Cheeses with Parsley, Red Onion, and Cherry Tomatoes
When I have friends over for an asado, I follow the traditional Argentine routine of serving a few picadas (small bites) before moving on to the carnivore’s cornucopia. Melted cheeses are usually the first thing that you can offer straight from the chapa, within minutes of lighting the fire. Different cheeses will melt in different ways, and they will crust up differently as well. Some are chewy, some softer, some more burnt or browned. You will know when they look melty enough—it’s not an exact science. SERVES 4
Extra virgin olive oil
8 ounces good grilling or melting cheese, such as haloumi, kasseri, Comté, or provolone, sliced into wedges or slices about 1 inch thick
1 small red onion, very thinly sliced
½ pint each red and orange cherry tomatoes, halved
1 cup fresh flat-leaf parsley leaves
Sea salt and freshly ground black pepper
Grilled bread
Heat a chapa or a large cast-iron griddle over low heat until a drop of water sizzles on the surface. Brush it with olive oil and place the cheese wedges or slices on the griddle, spaced well apart. Cook for about 2 minutes, without moving them, until the bottom is nicely browned and the cheese is beginning to soften or melt. Use a sharp spatula or scraper to transfer the cheese, browned side up, to a serving platter. If you are using a soft cheese, gently but firmly squeeze the pieces into an attractive scrunched shape.
Arrange the onion and tomatoes on the platter, scatter the parsley over the top, and drizzle with olive oil. Season with salt and a few grinds of pepper. Serve with grilled bread.
Four different cheeses, melting on a chapa. Clockwise from top left: provolone, kasseri, Comté, and haloumi.
Shaved Artichokes a la Plancha with Aged Comté Cheese
The beauty of this dish is that you get some of the crispiness (but much less of the fat) of the famous deep-fried artichokes of the Roman Jewish ghetto, carciofi alia giudia, along with the softness of steamed artichokes. I know that cleaning artichokes is not a favorite kitchen task, but the result is worth it. I still remember my very first day as an apprentice in the kitchens of Ledoyen in Paris. No sooner had I arrived than I was sent to trim eight cases of artichokes, about four hundred of them. So when people complain that a few artichokes are too difficult or time-consuming to prep, I advise them to keep it in perspective.
Comté cheese has a hint of the nuttiness of artichokes. If Comté is unavailable, Gruyère works well. SERVES 4
3 lemons
4 large artichokes
¼ cup extra virgin olive oil, plus extra for the chapa
Coarse salt and freshly ground black pepper
4 ounces aged Comté or Gruyère cheese, coarsely grated
Grilled bread
Cut one of the lemons in half, squeeze the juice into a large bowl of cold water, and toss in the squeezed-out rind as well. As you trim the artichokes, remember to dip the newly exposed areas into this acidulated water to prevent them from turning brown.
Pick up an artichoke and snap off all the tough outer leaves. Cut off the end of the stem. Lay the artichoke on its side on a cutting board and, with a sharp serrated knife, slice off the rest of the leaves at the point where they meet the wide base. With a small sharp knife, peel off the dark green fibrous layer around the base and the stem. Cut the artichoke lengthwise in half and scoop out the fuzzy choke with a sharp spoon. Immerse in the acidulated water. Repeat with the rest of the artichokes.
Squeeze the juice from the remaining 2 lemons into a bowl. Whisk in ¼ cup of the olive oil to blend.
With a watchful eye on your fingers, slice the artichoke hearts paper-thin on a mandoline, tossing them immediately into the oil and lemon juice mixture to coat.
Heat a chapa or a large cast-iron griddle over medium heat and brush generously with oil. When the oil shimmers, spread the artichokes out on the hot surface and drizzle with a little more oil. They will start to crisp and brown after a minute or two. Don’t let them get too dark—you want them to be a nutty golden color to retain some softness. Turn with a wide spatula to lightly brown the other side. As the bottom side cooks, season the top with salt and pepper and scatter the grated cheese evenly over it. When the cheese has melted, scoop the artichokes and cheese together with two wide spatulas, then transfer to a serving dish and serve immediately with grilled bread.
A long and lazy midsummer lunch in Trancoso, Brazil (see pages 234–239).
Chicken Livers a la Plancha in Charred Endive
Creamy, crusty, deeply meaty in flavor, chicken livers are too often overlooked. Here they are the star. You want to use good ones, though, from a top-quality chicken. They need lots of space between them on the hot chapa so they get very crunchy but are still quite pink inside. Char just the edges of the endive leaves. Put a piece of liver on a burnt endive leaf, and you’re ready to eat. SERVES 4
8 ounces fresh chicken livers
¼ cup parsley oil (see page 281), at room temperature
Coarse salt and freshly ground black pepper
1 heaping tablespoon Dijon mustard
12 large perfect endive leaves
Wash the livers and carefully trim off any fat or gristle. Separate or cut the lobes into 12 bite-sized pieces and pat them thoroughly dry on paper towels. Spread 2 tablespoons of the parsley oil on a plate, add the livers, and turn them to coat well. Season well with salt and pepper.
Whisk the mustard and the remaining 2 tablespoons parsley oil in a medium bowl. Season with salt and pepper, then lightly toss the endive leaves in the mixture to coat. Transfer the leaves to a plate, rounded side up.
Heat a chapa or two large cast-iron griddles over high heat until a drop of water sizzles on the surface. Using tongs, place the endive leaves rounded side up on the hot surface and cook, without moving them, for 2 minutes, or until the edges are well charred. Remove them with tongs and arrange rounded side down on a serving platter.
Arrange the livers at least an inch apart on a clean part of the chapa or in one of the griddles, and cook, without moving them, for 2 minutes, or until you see from the side that they are browned and crisp on the bottom. (Do this in batches if necessary.) Turn them over and cook for a minute or two more, until they are crisp all over but still quite pink within. As the livers are done, place them on the endive leaves. Serve immediately.
A chapa placed in the hearth of my kitchen fireplace.
Ensalada de Sopa Paraguaya
The cornmeal-based bread known as sopa Paraguaya was born, so the story goes, of a mistake. Carlos Antonio López, the first (and the stoutest) president of Paraguay, liked a thick soup of cornmeal, cheese, and milk. One day, his chef made it too thick. Turning necessity into a virtue, he popped it into a bread pan and baked it. El Presidente loved it, and so have generations of Paraguayans ever since. I decided to use the savory and satisfying bread as the basis for a kind of panzanella, adding avocados and tomatoes. SERVES 4
1 tablespoon brown sugar
Juice of 2 lemons
½ cup oaky extra virgin olive oil, plus more for brushing
2 ripe avocados, halved, pitted, peeled, and diced
2 ripe tomatoes, diced
Coarse salt and freshly ground black pepper
½ cup fresh cilantro leaves, torn into pieces
½ recipe Sopa Paraguaya (page 266), torn into 1-inch chunks
4 slices Sun-Dried Tomatoes (page 285)
Heat a chapa or a large cast-iron griddle over medium heat.
Meanwhile, prepare the vinaigrette: Dissolve the brown sugar in the lemon juice in a small bowl. Gradually whisk in the olive oil until it is well emulsified.
Put the avocados and tomatoes in a large bowl and toss them together with half the vinaigrette. Season with salt and pepper. Add the cilantro and toss again.
Brush the chapa or griddle with olive oil, and when it shimmers, add the sopa chunks and sear for a minute or two, until they are nicely charred on the bottom. (Do this in batches if necessary to give them plenty of space.) If the cheese oozes onto the skillet, just scrape it up with a spatula. As the chunks are charred, transfer them to the salad bowl and toss gently. Check the seasoning and add more salt or pepper if necessary.
Divide the salad among four serving plates, heaping it into a pyramid on each one. Drizzle with more vinaigrette to taste and top with the sun-dried tomatoes. Serve immediately.
Crunchy Potato Skins with Parsley
I started making this recipe in my restaurants with the skins of oven-roasted potatoes left over after we’d used most of the insides for gnocchi. Think of them as big, rugged, free-form French fries that are cooked first in the oven. The hot oil is just for crisping. I first tasted vinegar on fried potatoes at Mary’s Fish Camp in Greenwich Village. I later learned that in New England (and Old England), vinegar is often served with deep-fried food. It refreshes the palate after the hot oil and potato starch. These are great served with drinks. SERVES 4
4 Idaho (baking) potatoes, scrubbed
A small bunch of flat-leaf parsley, tough stems removed
8 cups olive oil for deep frying, preferably extra virgin
Coarse salt
Red wine vinegar for drizzling
Heat an horno or the oven to 375°F.
Prick the potatoes with a fork and put them on the center oven rack. Bake for 50 minutes to an hour, until they are tender all the way through when pierced with a skewer. Remove from the oven and allow them to cool enough for you to handle.
Cut the potatoes in half, then scoop out most of the flesh and reserve for another use. Tear the skins into large, rough pieces. Let them dry out on a tray lined with paper towels for at least 15 minutes.
Line another tray with paper towels for draining the potatoes when they come out of the oil. Tear the parsley into rough pieces and set aside.
Heat the oil in a deep pot to 360°F, or until a small piece of potato bubbles when dropped in the pot. Fry the potatoes, in batches if necessary, until golden brown and crunchy, 1 to 2 minutes. Remove the potatoes with a skimmer and transfer to the paper towels to drain. Season to taste with salt, scatter with the parsley, and serve with vinegar on the side. (Reserve strained oil for reuse, and refrigerate.)
Blistered Peppers with Charred Onions and Lemon Zest
Step up to any tapas bar in Spain and you are pretty sure to find a plate of pimientos de Padrón—blistered small peppers from Galicia, fried in olive oil and salted. They are kind of the Russian roulette of the pepper world in that while they are usually mild, about one in ten is quite hot. The lemon zest adds some fresh, fruity acidity.
In the United States, we rarely see Padrón peppers; shishito peppers, available in Asian markets and some farmers’ markets, work equally well, but th
ey, too, are occasionally hot. SERVES 8
Extra virgin olive oil
1 pound small mild peppers (see headnote)
1 small onion, thinly sliced
½ cup fresh flat-leaf parsley leaves
Grated zest of 1 lemon
Fleur de sel
Freshly ground black pepper
Heat a chapa or a large cast-iron griddle over high heat. Brush it with oil, and when the oil shimmers, add the peppers and cook for about 4 minutes, until they become blistered and lightly charred on the bottom. Turn the peppers, brush the hot surface with a little more oil, and cook them on the other side for several minutes, until they are softened and browned.
Meanwhile, clear a small space on one side of the chapa, brush it with more oil, and add the onions and parsley. Scatter half the lemon zest over everything, season to taste with fleur de sel and pepper, and turn the onions and parsley to brown on the other side, adding more oil if necessary.
Transfer everything to a small platter as it is done, taking care not to burn the onions. Scatter with the remaining lemon zest and serve immediately.
PICTURED ON PAGE 20
Tuna Tartare with Crunchy Bread Crumbs
Uncomplicated, straightforward, and clean tasting: these are the qualities I strive for in a recipe. This one comes from Tomas Scarpetti, a terrific young Argentine chef who has cooked in a number of my restaurants. I am happy to report that whenever we offer it, we completely sell out. SERVES 4
4 large eggs
1 pound fresh yellowfin tuna steaks
Extra virgin olive oil for drizzling
Mallmann on Fire Page 3
