Out to Lunch

by Stacey Ballis

  2 medium fennel bulbs, sliced

  1 ½ tablespoons tomato paste

  4 cups pomegranate juice

  2 15-ounce cans or 1 28-ounce can chickpeas, drained and rinsed

  ¾ cup golden raisins

  ¾ cup chopped walnuts

  2 tablespoons pomegranate molasses

  Seeds of 1 to 2 pomegranates

  2 tablespoons chopped flat-leaf parsley

  2 tablespoons chopped fresh mint

  Preheat oven to 275°F. Season shanks well with salt and pepper. Heat oil in a large Dutch oven over high heat and sear shanks well on all sides till browned, 12 to 15 minutes. Remove to a platter, and reduce heat to medium. Add the garlic and seasonings to oil and cook, stirring for one minute, but be careful not to let burn. Add veggies and cook till softened, about 10 to 12 minutes. Stir in tomato paste and cook 3 minutes. Add juice, chickpeas, raisins, walnuts. and molasses. Return shanks to pot and bring to a simmer. Cover and braise in oven for 1 ½ hours, turning shanks twice while cooking. Remove lid, turn shanks again, and cook uncovered till lamb is caramelized on top and sauce is thick, about another hour. Reduce oven to 200°F and hold shanks, uncovered, until time to serve. Serve with fresh seeds, parsley, and mint sprinkled on top.

  Truffled Pappardelle

  SERVES 6 AS A SIDE DISH, CAN DOUBLE EASILY IF YOU HAVE A LARGER PARTY

  This is one of the easiest dinner party side dishes on the planet. It comes together in a flash, but has big wow factor.

  1 pound wide pappardelle pasta

  1 3.5-ounce tub truffle butter

  Zest of one lemon

  3 tablespoons finely chopped chives

  Salt and pepper to taste

  Cook pasta to al dente in well-salted water. Reserve 1 cup of the cooking liquid, and strain pasta, returning it to the pot off heat. Add the butter, chives, and lemon zest, a pinch of salt and good grinding of black pepper, and ¼ cup of the reserved pasta water, and mix until all the noodles are well coated. If the pasta seems a little dry, you can add more of the pasta water. Taste for salt and pepper and serve hot.

  Pistachio Cake with Fig Glaze

  SERVES 10 TO 12

  This nutty cake is simple and not too sweet and works well for both a fancy dinner dessert, or a casual brunch offering.

  5 ounces ground pistachios

  ½ pound unsalted butter (plus 1 tablespoon melted extra for greasing the pan)

  ½ vanilla bean

  1 ⅓ cups powdered sugar, plus extra for dusting the cake

  ⅓ cup all-purpose flour

  5 extralarge egg whites

  3 tablespoons granulated sugar

  ½ cup fig jam (you can substitute apricot)

  Preheat oven to 350°F. Cut out a circle of parchment paper to fit in the bottom of a 10-inch round cake pan. Brush the pan with a little melted butter and line the bottom with the paper.

  Place the rest of the butter in a medium saucepan. Slice the vanilla bean lengthwise down the center, using a paring knife to scrape the seeds and pulp onto the butter. To make sure not to lose any of the seeds, run your vanilla-coated knife through the butter. Add the vanilla pod to the pan, and cook the butter until the butter browns and smells nutty (about 6 to 8 minutes). It helps to frequently scrape the solids off the bottom of the pan in the last couple of minutes to ensure even browning. Set aside to cool. Remove the vanilla pod and discard.

  Mix pistachio flour with the confectioners’ sugar in a food processor until mixed. Transfer to a large bowl. Place the egg whites in the bowl of a standing mixer fitted with the whisk attachment. Add the granulated sugar and mix on high speed 4 to 5 minutes, until the mixture forms very stiff peaks. Transfer the whites to a large mixing bowl.

  Alternate folding the dry ingredients and the brown butter into the egg whites, a third at a time. Remember to scrape the bottom of the brown-butter pan with a rubber spatula to get all the little brown bits.

  Pour the batter into the prepared cake pan, and bake for 40 minutes to 1 hour. Cool on a rack 30 minutes. Run a knife around the inside edge of the pan, and invert the cake onto a plate. Peel off the paper, and turn the cake back over onto a serving platter. Heat the jam with 2 tablespoons water until you have a liquid glaze, and pour over the cake. If you are serving as a brunch or tea dish, leave like this. For a dinner party dessert you can add a layer of bittersweet chocolate ganache over the glaze, or serve with a scoop of ice cream.

  Elliot’s Roasted Veal with Cognac Shallot Sauce

  SERVES 4

  Elliot knows that the way to a chef’s heart is through her stomach, and this classic and simple French roast with a pan sauce is the perfect thing to make for her.

  1 loin of veal (2 to 2 ½ pounds)

  3 sprigs thyme, leaves picked

  1 tablespoon grapeseed oil

  1 ½ tablespoons sherry vinegar

  3 tablespoons cognac

  3 tablespoons walnut or hazelnut oil

  3 tablespoons unsalted butter

  3 tablespoons chopped shallots

  1 ½ tablespoons fresh thyme leaves

  3 tablespoons fresh parsley, chopped

  Preheat oven to 375°F.

  Season loin with salt and pepper, rub with thyme. Heat oil in large ovenproof skillet and sear the loin to golden brown on all sides. Roast in oven until medium rare. Remove the cooked loin to a plate. Rest covered with foil.

  Put the skillet back over a burner on medium-high heat, add the nut oil, and sauté the shallots until they are translucent. Then reduce the heat to medium low and deglaze the pan with the cognac (add cognac off heat to prevent flare-ups), being sure to get all the browned bits from the bottom. Once the alcohol has burned off, add the thyme, and whisk in the butter until you get an emulsified pan sauce. Add the thyme, and taste for salt and pepper. Serve over the sliced veal, and sprinkle with parsley.

  Fregola with Sweet Corn and Chives

  SERVES 4 TO 6

  This unexpected side dish is a fun change from the usual potatoes or rice.

  Kosher salt

  1 ½ cups fregola pasta (a large toasted pearl shape, you can substitute Israeli couscous but you’ll lose a little of the fabulousness)

  2 ears corn, shucked

  2 tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil

  Freshly ground black pepper, to taste

  ¾ cup chicken stock

  ¼ cup freshly grated Parmigiano-Reggiano

  2 tablespoons chopped chives

  Bring 3 quarts of water to a boil and add 1 tablespoon of salt. Set up a small ice bath nearby. Cook the fregola in the boiling water until somewhat tender but not cooked through, very al dente, about 10 to 12 minutes. Drain the fregola, refresh it in the ice bath, and spread it on a tray lined with paper towels to dry.

  Preheat the grill or a cast iron skillet.

  Brush the ears of corn with the olive oil, season with salt and pepper, and place on the grill or in the skillet, turning every 2 minutes until all sides are nicely browned or charred and the kernels are just beginning to burst. Remove the corn and, when the ears are cool enough to handle, cut the kernels off the cob with a sharp knife.

  Combine the blanched fregola, sweet corn, and the chicken stock in a 12- to 14-inch sauté pan and cook over high heat until the stock boils and is mostly absorbed into the grain, about 5 minutes. Add the grated Parmigiano-Reggiano and salt and pepper and toss over high heat for 1 minute more. Stir in the chives and serve hot.

  Gâteau de Semoule

  SERVES 8

  This is an old-school French dessert that is enormously comforting. And since Elliot knows that Jenna went to culinary school in France, it is the perfect dessert to woo her with.

  ¾ cup plus 12 tablespoons sugar

  2 teaspoons butter, melted

  3 large eggs

  4 cups whole milk

  1 vanilla bean

  Pinch of sea salt

  ¾ cup plus 1 tablespoon fine semolina

  ¼ teaspoon freshly grated nutmeg

  ½ cup golden rais
ins, soaked in ¼ cup hot water or a liqueur of your choice (optional . . . I often substitute dried cherries or currants or leave it out altogether . . . toasted pine nuts are an interesting substitution as well)

  Place a rack in the center of the oven and preheat to 400°F. Have a 6-cup soufflé dish or charlotte mold ready.

  Place 12 tablespoons of the sugar in a medium skillet. Cook over medium heat, swirling the pan as the sugar dissolves. Once it has turned golden, quickly scrape the caramel into the dish or mold, swirling to coat the bottom. Once the caramel has hardened on the bottom, brush the sides of the dish with melted butter.

  Whisk the eggs in a bowl. In a medium saucepan, combine the milk, the remaining ¾ cup of sugar, and the vanilla bean (split lengthwise and seeds scraped into the pan). Whisk over medium heat until small bubbles form around the edges. Remove from the heat, cover and let steep for 10 minutes. Remove the vanilla bean.

  Return the milk to medium heat. When small bubbles form around the edges, add the salt and slowly sprinkle in the semolina, whisking constantly. Once it is incorporated, stir with a wooden spoon until thickened, about 10 minutes. Turn off the heat and quickly whisk in the eggs. Stir in the nutmeg and raisins. Pour into the prepared dish and bake until puffed and golden, 40 to 45 minutes. Serve warm from the dish, or cool and unmold. To unmold, run a knife around the sides, set the bottom of the dish in boiling water for 5 minutes, then turn it out onto a cake plate.

  Elliot’s Burgundian Stew

  SERVES 8 TO 12

  Elliot and Jenna are taking things slow . . . even in the kitchen. A dish like this will make your house smell delicious all day. It’ll serve a crowd handily, but don’t let the volume dissuade you from making it for two; it freezes beautifully.

  Adapted from The New American Cuisine cookbook (1983)

  12 ounces diced slab bacon or salt pork

  2 medium onions, chopped

  1 cup chopped celery heart, with the leaves

  4 carrots, peeled and cut into 1 ½-inch chunks

  2 leeks, white part only, chopped

  2 small turnips, diced

  1 ½ pounds lean pork shoulder, cut in 1 ½-inch cubes

  1 ½ pounds beef shoulder, cut in 1 ½-inch cubes

  1 ½ pounds kielbasa sausage, in 2-inch chunks (use a good local butcher version if you can get it, grocery store versions can break down and get mushy)

  Bouquet garni of 3 sprigs parsley, a celery stalk with the leaves, 3 sprigs fresh thyme, 2 bay leaves tied in cheese cloth or just wound with butcher’s twine

  8 cups good beef stock

  3 large russet potatoes, peeled and cut in eighths

  1 small green cabbage (use Savoy if you can get it) cut in 8 wedges, with the core intact to hold the wedges together

  2 cups flageolet or cannellini beans, soaked overnight

  3 tablespoons demi-glace or condensed beef stock (optional)

  Salt and pepper to taste

  In a large heavy-bottomed wide Dutch oven, cook bacon slowly over medium-low heat to render the fat and make it crispy. Drain bacon and reserve for serving. Add onions, celery, carrots, leeks, and turnips to the hot bacon fat and sweat vegetables slowly about 10 minutes. Add all the meats and bouquet garni to the pot and cover with the beef stock. Raise heat to high and bring to boil. Skim the foam, then reduce heat to low and cover, and simmer gently about 1 ½ hours, the meat should be tender, but not falling apart. Add the beans and cook about 15 to 20 minutes. Stir in the demi-glace if you have it. I like to cook it to this stage, cool it down in the pot, and then refrigerate overnight for up to two days. If you are making and serving it the same day, just continue immediately with the next steps. The day you want to serve, bring to a simmer over medium-high heat, add the potatoes and cook about 15 minutes. Nestle the cabbage wedges down into the broth and cook covered another 10 minutes. Taste to be sure all the vegetables are cooked through and the meat is the right level of tenderness, and season the broth with salt and pepper. Turn on low and leave until you want to serve; it is fine to be on low for 3 to 4 hours.

  To convert for a slow cooker, once the vegetables have been sweated with the bacon fat, transfer them to your slow cooker; add all of the rest of the ingredients except the cabbage and cook for about 8 hours on high. Add the cabbage about 1 hour before serving.

  To serve, have the crispy bacon bits for people to add to their taste, and crème fraîche mustard sauce to put on top:

  2 cups crème fraîche

  3 tablespoons Dijon mustard

  2 tablespoons lemon juice

  4 tablespoons chopped chives

  Salt to taste

  Mix all ingredients together and keep chilled until service.

  Read on for a sneak peek at another delicious novel from Stacey Ballis

  Off the Menu

  Available now from Berkley

  Through the fog of those last ephemeral floaty moments before I fall into deep sleep, I suddenly feel a stirring in the bed next to me. I smile, knowing that as delicious as sleep is, there is something unbearably wonderful about the need for tenderness and contact. I roll over and let my tired lids open, forcing myself back from the brink of the sleep I desperately need, to attend to my sweetheart, who I need more. He looks at me with what can only be described as a perfect combination of love and longing, and tilts his head to one side, dark chocolate eyes sparkling wickedly in the darkness.

  “Yes? Can I help you?” I say, my voice slightly roughened with exhaustion.

  He lets his head tilt slowly to the other side and he reaches for me with a tentative teasing touch, then stops and just waits.

  “You are very demanding, you know that?” I can’t help but laugh.

  But what can I do? He is the love of my life. A smile appears on his face and he reaches out again, this time more assuredly, tapping my hand with gentle insistence.

  “Okay, okay!” I give up. I can deny this boy nothing.

  As soon as he hears that word, he pounces, all twenty-six pounds of him landing with a thump on my chest.

  This dog will be the end of me.

  “I know, I know, boy, you need some extra-special love time, because you were at doggie day care all day while I was working to put kibble on the table.”

  Dumpling rolls over in my arms so that I can scratch his oddly broad chest. He is, to say the least, one of the strangest dogs anyone has ever seen. Which of course, is absolutely why I adopted him. I don’t really know for sure what his lineage is, but he has the coloring and legs of a Jack Russell, the head of a Chihuahua, with the broad chest and sloping back of a bulldog, wide pug-ly eyes that bug out and are a little watery, and happen to mostly look in opposite directions. His ears, one which sticks up and one which flops down, are definitely fruit bat–ish. And when he gets riled by something, he gets a two-inch-wide Mohawk down his whole back, which sticks straight up, definitively warthog. He’s a total ladies’ man, a relentless flirt, and the teensiest bit needy in the affection department, as are many rescue dogs. But of course, he is so irresistibly lovable he never has a problem finding the attention he desires.

  He is also smart as a whip, and soon after I got him my dear friend Barry took him to train as a therapy dog so that the two of them could work occasionally in hospitals and nursing homes and with disabled kids. He has the highest possible certification for that work, and was one of only two dogs out of fifty to pass the test when he took it, proud mama me. Barry is an actor and cabaret performer, and on the days when he is not in rehearsal he often volunteers to “entertain the troops” as he calls it, singing standards for the elderly, doing dramatic readings of fairy tales for kids with cancer, and teaching music to teenagers with autism. He’d seen someone working with a therapy dog at Children’s Memorial Hospital, and when he found out how meaningful that work can be, he asked if he could borrow Dumpling and see if he was the right kind of dog. Dumpling turned out to be more than the right kind of dog; he turned out to be a total rock star, and has become a favorite at all of t
heir stops. The fact that Barry has snagged many dates with handsome doctors and male nurses using Dumpling as bait is just a bonus for him. Dumpling loves the work and I love knowing that he spends at least one or two days a week out and about with Barry instead of just lazing around and getting too many treats from his pals at Best Friends doggie day care.

  Dumpling is the kind of dog that makes people on the street do double and triple takes and ask in astonished voices, “What kind of dog IS that?!” His head is way too small for his thick solid body, and his legs are too spindly. His eyes point away from each other like a chameleon. One side of his mouth curls up a little, half-Elvis, half palsy-victim, and his tongue has a tendency to stick out just a smidgen on that side. He was found as a puppy running down the median of a local highway, and I adopted him from PAWS five years ago, after he had been there for nearly a year. He is, without a doubt, the best thing that ever happened to me.

  My girlfriend Bennie says it looks like he was assembled by a disgruntled committee. Barry calls him a random collection of dog bits. My mom, in a classic ESL moment, asked upon meeting him, “He has the Jack Daniels in him, leetle bit, no?” I was going to correct her and say Jack Russell, but when you look at him, he does look a little bit like he has the Jack Daniels in him. My oldest nephew, Alex, who watches too much Family Guy and idolizes Stewie, took one look, and then turned to me in all seriousness and said in that weird almost-British accent, “Aunt Alana, precisely what brand of dog is that?” I replied, equally seriously, that he was a purebred Westphalian Stoat Hound. When the kid learns how to Google, I’m going to lose major cool aunt points.

  Dumpling tilts his head back and licks the underside of my chin, wallowing in love.

  “Dog, you are going to be the death of me. You have got to let me sleep sometime.”

  These words are barely out of my mouth, when he leaps up and starts barking, in a powerful growly baritone that belies his small stature. The third bark is interrupted by the insistent ringing of my buzzer.