All posts by Angela G.

I'm a (pretty) good girl who says (pretty) bad words and makes (pretty effin') delicious dishes. Foodie for life. Delicious to death.

Feast of the Seven Boars

Cannot even begin to tell you how much I adore this menu.  Yes, it is a challenge and yes, you’ll probably want a couple of hands to help with the staging, prep and cooking.  But it’s well worth the effort in that it is no less than glorious.

The concept of the Feast of the Seven Boars was born as both a riff off of the Feast of the Seven Fishes and an excuse to pay homage to one of my favorite proteins, wild boar.  Without all of the religious undertones, our feast was focused on the loving and careful preparation of an ingredient so worthy of a spotlight.  While both beef and poultry are offered as myriad unique cuts and varieties (you’ve got your kobe, your poussin and your capon at the grocery store down the street), pork is offered as a bland, flavorless option with both the fat and the taste bred out in one fell swoop.  As far as I’m concerned, “the other white meat” campaign is a form of sacrilege.  It’s no wonder that so many Americans eschew the idea of eating pork, what with the options in front of them so horribly tasteless.

I had a silent celebration the moment I spotted wild boar in the online store for Marx Foods – thoughts of what to do with 17 pounds of wild boar shoulder roast in all its rosy glory was blissful.   Rather than give in to the giddiness, I got to work crafting a series of recipes that would make good use of the meat.  Given that it holds up to cooking, I decided to go with braises, roasts and ground preparations to showcase the tender, meltingly gorgeous meat.

Many of the recipes were born of my time spent in Orvieto, a champion of a city in terms of featuring wild boar in the best of preparations.  Recipes were slightly tweaked to make room for the boar, like my Post-Thanksgiving Stuffed Mushrooms with boar in lieu of sausage, and boar instead of pork in the bolognese and meatballs.  We bolstered the meat feast with seasonal veggies like miner’s lettuce, stinging nettles and fiddlehead ferns.  We also had some help from the experts, to include Eric Ripert’s Cinghiale Dolce Forte and Ciao Bella’s Straciatella Gelato.  We rounded out the meal with a bottle of chilled limoncello, bowled over by the fact that boar was such a special treat rather than a shop standard.  Oh, well.  Someday.  But until then, consider gathering a group of hungry foodie friends, some wild boar and a few days of sheer dedication for one of the most glorious pay offs in terms of feasts.  Mangia!

 

Pappardelle con Cinghiale

My time spent in Orvieto, Italy, much like the experience of many students studying abroad in college, was all about turning my preconceived notions on their proverbial heads.  I never imagined that following up on a random postcard in my mailbox for a summer “arts” program in the heart of Tuscany would lead to a series of revelations in terms of ingredients, cooking and collecting food memories.  Up until that point, Pizza Hut wasn’t a four letter word, ice cream and gelato could be considered one in the same, and a bottle of wine per person wasn’t considered a reasonable lunch.  But all of that was thrown out the window, and I was utterly spellbound by all of the tastes and sights and experiences surrounding me.  I discovered fava beans, pasta cooked in red wine, tomato-less bolognese, fresh porcini mushrooms and young white wines with ne’er an additive or preservative.  I ate gelato after every meal, and sometimes as my meal, choosing flavors that tasted riper than fresh fruit.  I learned that in Italy, I couldn’t leave the table before finishing the bottle of grappa or limoncello plonked there by the owner, much like a child forced to eat their vegetables before clearing off.  I even taught an Italian movie star to do the robot while simultaneously doing an impression of Julia Child.  I was officially living the life. Continue reading Pappardelle con Cinghiale

Spicy Bucatini with Wild Boar Meatballs

Meatballs have been getting a lot of play lately.  From the incessant features on the Meatball Shop in NYC, to the meatball entrepreneur Joey on America’s Next Great Restaurant and his “Saucy Balls,” it’s as if ballmania has struck and there isn’t an end in site.  For me, though, meatballs have always played a part in my collective food memory.  Although I never got to know my Sicilian side of the family in person, their customs and traditions were passed down to me through my grandmother and mother.  Making a sauce, or gravy as it’s truly called, involved frying off scores of homemade meatballs, and I’d stand close by for the chance to snag a taste.  Apparently the tradition of searing all of the meatballs but one, and then cooking the last one through to give to someone you love came from my grandmother long before I learned it from my mother.  I like to think of my mom as a kid, indulging in the perfectly seasoned and seared meatball as the most loving of gifts in that it was rooted in tradition.  No kids of my own, I have been known to carry on the tradition with my husband – he himself grew up in a part-Sicilian household as well, and where my fam was doling out tastes of meatballs, his was doing the same thing with his mother’s expertly cooked chicken cutlets.  It’s only fitting that we’re together and I can carry on a legacy of culinary “sharing means caring” traditions.

For those in the know, the secret to a good meatball is a good crust on the outside and a tender, juicy center.  Although I’ll still sear off a meatball or two in a pan with olive oil, I’ve since converted to the baked meatball camp.  You still get the lovely outer crust and it’s a whole hell of a lot less messy since you don’t have to tend to these over a greasy stove top.  Because these babies were a part of my dinner party, the Feast of the Seven Boars, I used a combination of traditional ground beef and the less traditional but gloriously flavorful, wild boar.  If you can’t get your hands on any boar, feel free to substitute ground pork or veal.  Depending on how much time you have, you can simmer these the normal way on the stove in a lovely bath of San Marzano tomatoes OR you can take your sweet time and allow them to bubble away in a crock pot for a few hours OR you can be impatient and cook them in a pressure cooker for a mere 20 minutes.  Any way you cook them, you’ll be treated to a perfectly tender treat meant to be served atop a delicious mess of pasta – maybe some bucatini with a heavy dose of crushed red pepper.  Or you could just eat them straight away and skip the pasta.  It is tradition, you know.

Recipe for

Spicy Bucatini with Wild Boar Meatballs

Ingredients
3 lbs. of ground wild boar (or pork or veal)
1 lb. of ground beef
1/2 an onion, finely minced
6 cl. of garlic, finely chopped
1 c. of grated locatelli
1/2 c. of chopped parsley
1 c. of bread crumbs
4 eggs, beaten
1 1/2 tsp. of salt
1/2 tsp. of black pepper
1 tbs. of crushed oregano

1/2 tablespoon of crushed red pepper
3 large cans of whole san marzano tomatoes
1/2 c. of chicken stock
2 cloves of garlic, sliced
salt to taste
handful of torn basil leaves
1 tbs. of olive oil
1 tbs. of butter
1 lb. of bucatini, perciatelli or similar long pasta

Preheat oven to 450°.  In a large bowl or a standing mixer, blend the meat, onion, garlic, parsley, eggs, crumbs, salt, pepper and oregano until thoroughly mixed.  Wet hands and form 1/4 c. of the meat mixture into round balls.  Place on a foil lined cookie sheet and bake in the oven for 20 minutes.

In a large pot, add the tomatoes and crush gently with a spoon.  Add the garlic, chicken stock and salt and stir.  Add the meatballs and allow to simmer for at least 30 minutes – longer if you can stand it.  When the meatballs are just about finished, cook the pasta according to the package directions.  Toss with a cup or two of the meatball sauce, olive oil and butter.  Toss the basil leaves in the hot pasta to wilt and top with some of the meatballs.  Serve with grated cheese and extra crushed red pepper.

Sparkling Pear Martini

Champagne hasn’t been my friend for a long time.  I go from bubbly to drunk to very hungover and unhappy in a matter of sips, and it’s a major thumbs down in that I adore a fizzy tipple once in a while.  Although I like to occasionally dance with danger and partake a troublesome glass or two, I vastly prefer anything that’ll give me the same sensation without all the pain.  Given that vodka and I are copacetic, I adore this incredibly simple martini that garners its bubbles from non-alcoholic pear cider.  But not to worry, my off-the-wagon friends.  This sparkler combines the ripe flavor of luscious pear vodka and floral St. Germain into a sweet, but strong (good and strong!) martini of the most delightful nature.  I sip away with no regrets or apprehension, knowing that I’ll be staving off a vicious hangover.  Well, assuming that I don’t drink five of these in a row without a second thought.  Let’s pretend that’s never happened before, ok? Continue reading Sparkling Pear Martini

California Cobb Salad with Green Goddess Dressing

Green Goddess Dressing © Photo by Angela GunderI love a good story, and with a name like “Green Goddess” you know there’s a bit of a tale lingering around.  An almost kitschy throwback to the 1920s and 30s, the dressing is a zesty combination of fresh herbs, anchovies and sour cream, enlivened by a little bit of lemon juice.  The name supposedly originates from the Palace Hotel in San Francisco where the dressing was made as a tribute to the hit play, “The Green Goddess,” and alas, a star was born.

My guess is that the popularity of this gem died down with the waning of favor over anchovies – a pity, really, in that the flavor profile of anchovies themselves are addictive.  If people can down caesar dressing by the gallon, what’s the deal with hating on anchovies?  It’s plain malarkey.

The recipe for this dressing is a riff off a version from Food and Wine Magazine used to dress a chicken salad.  My husband took a look at the picture and said, “This would be great without all of that other mess around it.” “So you mean just the dressing?” “Yeah, pretty much.”  After a few tweaks to the recipe and a bed of greens, we were cooking with gas.

California Cobb Salad © Photo by Angela GunderSo where does a nostalgic dressing trip down memory lane take us.  To a salad with just as much historical presence. 1930 at the Hollywood Brown Derby heralded the chefery of Robert Cobb and Chuck Wilson – apparently the owner Cobb wandered around the kitchen looking for something awesome to eat and threw together a crazy amalgamation of greens, bacon, eggs, avocado and blue cheese.  I can appreciate a late-night scrounge for munchies, if I do say so myself.

In plating this salad, I love a careful presentation of each ingredient segmented into its own section.  Something about the vibrant colors in their own spots just waiting to be mixed together with the lovely dressing is an impressor and a half.  As you know, it’s all about the presentation…says the designer.

Recipe for

California Cobb Salad with Green Goddess Dressing

Ingredients
1/2 c. of parsley leaves, loosely packed
1/2 c. of basil leaves
1/4 c. of chopped dill
4 sprigs of tarragon, leaves removed and chopped
1 sprig of oregano, leaves removed and chopped
1 c. of mayonnaise
zest of 1 lemon
juice of half a lemon
1/4 c. of chopped chives
salt and pepper to taste

mixed greens (baby romaine is fun)
3 plum tomatoes, seeded and diced
2 perfectly hard-boiled eggs, diced
4 slices of bacon, cooked and crumbled
1 avocado, diced
1/2 c. of crumbled blue cheese
1 boneless skinless chicken breast, halved lengthwise into two cutlets
1 tbs. of olive oil
1 tbs. of herbes des provence

Begin by making the dressing – add all of the herbs except for the chives to the food processor, along with the garlic, lemon zest and juice.  Blitz until finely chopped and then add the mayo.  Blitz again to blend and then remove to a bowl.  Stir in the chives and then season with salt and pepper.  Chill.

Heat the olive oil in a skillet.  While that warms, season the chicken with the herbes des provence and salt and pepper.  Sear the chicken until it is cooked through and browned on both sides.  Remove from pan and let cool slightly.  Cube chicken and set aside.

Grab a large platter and make a bed of greens.  Arrange the tomatoes, chopped eggs, chopped bacon, avocado, blue cheese and chicken in a pretty splay.  Right before serving, toss the salad and top with the Green Goddess dressing.  Tuck in and get down.

Mini Beef Wellington with Morel Bearnaise and Melted Leeks

Challenge Entry in 3rd Annual Morel Recipe Competition
This recipe was my humble entry into the 3rd Annual Marx Foods Morel Mushroom Competition. Try as we might to garner a win for this exceedingly delicious recipe, we did not come up victorious (we were 3rd place in the popular vote).  But really, in all honesty, we feel as though we won the grand prize in simply getting to eat the mini wellington ourselves.  Our heartfelt thanks to all who voted and spread the word for folks to vote, and a special thanks to Karen M. for slaving with me in the kitchen.  You’re a doll!
I’m bored.  I want to have a party.  I want to have a full out blast and feast on a menu that is a hands down knock out from start to finish.  And to start it off, I want a dish that is worthy of some seriously expensive champagne wishes and caviar dreams.  I want to tuck into it with a big ol’ smile on my face and some hilarious friends nearby doing the same thing.  And I could care less about how many sticks of butter I kill in the process.

morelwellington2

When I think of ingredients that get me truly excited, morel mushrooms are high on the list.  I mentioned to a friend that I was going to be crafting a recipe for the 3rd Annual Marx Foods Morel Mushroom Competition, and she asked what I’d do if I won 2 lbs. of fresh morels as the grand prize.  I told her I’d probably roll around in them in a giggle fit, I love them so.  The little earthy caps of goodness are so worthy of reverence, you can’t help but be overjoyed with the prospect of cooking something incredible with them.  They make me want to move to Minnesota, the state that has named the morel as their official mushroom.  Of course the morel mushroom has an invite to my party.

Since the chefs in the competition have been tasked to create “an original hors d’oeuvre recipe using dried morels,” I wanted to come up with something worthy of fireworks.  I mean, if this dish was to set off my party with a bang and feature the complex flavors of the morel mushroom, it’d need to be amazing. So of course I needed to invite filet mignon to the soiree and some bearnaise to bring it all home.  Now we’re talking!

Photo © Angela GunderThis mini version of beef wellington is elevated to the utmost of decadence with the addition of morel mushrooms.  Coupled with melted leeks and a delicate bearnaise soaked up by all the nooks and crannies in the mushrooms, the small bite belies huge flavors.  These can be served as small bites (speared with a sprig of rosemary for a fun take on a skewer) or plated with a pool of bearnaise and leeks to attack with a vengeance.  Either way, if this is your first bite of the night, know that the tone has been set for a party worth remembering.  You should totally come.  And bring that Dom P you know I like so much.  We’re getting bubbly tonight.

Mini Beef Wellington with Morel Bearnaise and Melted Leeks

2 oz. dried morel mushrooms
2 c. of beef stock
2 c. of water

2 sprigs of tarragon
1 large shallot, finely chopped
1/4 cup white wine vinegar
1/2 cup white wine
4 egg yolks
1 stick and 1 tbs. of butter, melted
1/8 tsp of white pepper
salt to taste

4 tbs. of butter
1 shallot
8 oz. of mild flavored mushrooms (oyster, white button, crimini or chanterelle), finely chopped
1/8 tsp. of black pepper
1/4 tsp. of white pepper
1/4 tsp of tarragon
1 tsp. of salt

2 leeks, white and pale green parts only
3 tbs. of butter
1/8 tsp. white pepper
1/8 tsp. of salt

3 filet mignon steaks
1 tbs. dijon mustard
12 slices of pancetta
salt and pepper
1 box of puff pastry
1 egg, beaten
1 tbs. of cream

Prep the Morels
Bring the beef stock and water to a boil.  Add morel mushrooms and turn off the heat.  Put a lid on the pot and allow the mushrooms to steep in the beef stock for at least a half an hour.

Make the White Wine Reduction
Add the white wine, wine vinegar, shallot and tarragon to a small saucepan.  Bring to a boil and then reduce the liquid to about 2-3 tablespoons.  Strain mixture and set aside to cool.

Make the Duxelle
Melt butter over low heat in a skillet.  When melted, crank up heat to medium and add your chopped shallot and mushrooms.  Stir gently to keep from sticking, and keep heat on the low side so as to not color the mushrooms.  When veggies are tender, add black pepper, white pepper, tarragon and salt.  Taste for seasoning and correct if necessary.  Continue to cook over medium low until the mushrooms absorb all of the juices released and the mixture forms a semi-dry paste.  Chop half of the morel mushrooms and mix them into the duxelle.  Set aside and allow to cool.

Melt the Leeks
Cut the leeks in half lengthwise and rinse thoroughly to remove any dirt or sand.  Finely chop the leeks.  Melt the butter in a skillet over medium heat and add the leeks.  Cook gently until tender, about 10 minutes.  Set aside.

Assemble the Wellington
Preheat the oven to 425°.  Flour a cutting board and lay out your puff pastry. Flour a rolling pin and roll out sheet into a slightly larger square.  Cut into 6 squares and top each one with a slice of pancetta.  Spoon a few tablespoons of the mushroom duxelle on top of the pancetta.  Cut each of the filets into four cubes and season with coarse salt and cracked pepper.  Brush the cut sides with a small amount of dijon mustard and place on top of the duxelle.  Top with some more duxelle and bring the corners of the puff pastry together in the center to close up the package.  Place the mini wellington seam side down on a cookie sheet lined with parchment paper. Repeat until all of the cubes have been wrapped.  Cut a small cross into the tops of each of the parcels.  In a small bowl, beat together the egg and cream.  Brush the tops of the puff pastry with the egg wash and sprinkle with kosher salt and cracked pepper.  Bake in the oven for 18-20 minutes, or until the tops are golden and lovely.  Let rest for at least 5 minutes before serving.

Make the Bearnaise
Melt the butter – I like to use a pyrex because it’s easy to pour.  Put the 4 egg yolks and vinegar reduction into the blender and mix on low. Slowly stream in half of the melted butter and allow to emulsify.  Crank up the speed to high and stream in the rest of the butter.  Your sauce will be thick and bright yellow, like a slightly loose mayonnaise.  Season with salt and white pepper to taste.  Chop the rest of the morel mushrooms and fold into the bearnaise, along with half of the leeks.  Keep warm until ready to serve.

Plate and Serve
To serve, spread a bit of the bearnaise on the bottom of a plate.  Slice one of the wellingtons in half.  Mound a small amount of the remaining leeks on the plate and top with a wellington half.  Add the morel mushrooms to the side of the wellington and garnish with chives or a rosemary sprig (or both).  Call up the crew and kick boredom’s ass with an impromptu party of the most fabulous kind.

If you’d like to serve as a passable appetizer, cut wellingtons into quarters.  Spear each quarter with a sprig of rosemary with the leaves removed from the woodier portion of the stem, allowing you to use it as a skewer.  Mix all of the leeks into the bearnaise and serve in a bowl on the side for dipping.

Porchetta with Wild Boar Stuffing

Can I just take a second to swoon?  Fennel pollen is a dream.  I officially have a crush on the stuff and I am not even a bit ashamed. It’s floral and complex and imparts the delicious flavor of fennel in the most perfect way.  Why have I not been tossing this stuff on everything?  Fennel pollen cheerios?  Fennel pollen Haagen Daas? Yes, please.

Ok, maybe fennel pollen and ice cream isn’t the perfect marriage, but as part of the marinade for porchetta, it’s deliciousness personified.  Authentic porchetta is a celebration of pork – a tender roast is marinated in olive oil, fennel and garlic, wrapped in pork skin, trussed and rotisseried over an open flame.  The outside becomes super crispy while the inside of the roast stays moist.  In Italy, this is street food at its best – tender slices are tucked into crusty bread to form an addictive panino.  This version leverages a couple of different cuts to make the grade – a sirloin roast of pork is butterflied and stuffed with ground wild boar and pears.  The entire baby is wrapped up like a package with peppery pancetta and roasted until crispy.  I’d be lying if I said that it’s not a brilliant combo.  Nay, a genius combo.

For a little extra sustenance, I roast the porchetta over a bed of herbs and onions.  I also toss some quartered yukon golds with rosemary and olive oil into the oven and allow them to roast along side of the roast.  It’s about as good a Tuscan feast as I can get, and for those blissful tastes of roasted pork and fennel pollen, I’m cheesing ear to ear.

Recipe for

Porchetta with Wild Boar Stuffing

Ingredients
1 pork roast, preferably sirloin and about 5 lbs.
1 tbs. of fennel pollen
2 tsp. of telicherry pepper (black pepper)
2 tbs. of kosher salt
2 sprigs of rosemary, leaves removed and minced
4 cloves of garlic, minced
pinch of red pepper flakes
1/2 c. of olive oil

1 lb. of ground wild boar (or ground pork)
1 clove of garlic, minced
1/2 tsp. of fennel seeds
1/8 tsp. of fennel pollen
1 tbs. of paprika
1 tsp. of salt
1 tsp. of black pepper
pinch of cayenne pepper
4 tbs. of chopped parsley
1 tbs. of olive oil
1/2 stick of butter
1 stalk of celery, chopped
3 shallots, chopped
1 pear, cored and chopped
1 tbs. of fresh sage, chopped
1 tbs. of fresh thyme leaves, chopped
1/8 tsp. of white pepper
4 eggs, beaten

16 oz. of pancetta
handful of sage leaves
handful of thyme leaves
handful of rosemary leaves
1 large onion, sliced
2 c. of chicken stock
1 c. of white wine

2 lbs. of yukon gold potatoes
1/2 c. of olive oil
bunch of rosemary
kosher salt and black pepper

Begin by butterflying the roast (or have your butcher do it for you).  Mix the fennel pollen, black pepper, garlic, rosemary, red pepper, salt and olive oil into a paste.  Rub the roast with the paste and then place in a tupperware.  Refrigerate overnight.

In a large skillet, warm the olive oil.  Add the shallots, garlic, celery and pears and cook until tender.  Next add the ground wild boar, fennel pollen, fennel seeds, paprika, salt, white pepper, black pepper, cayenne, sage and thyme.  Cook until meat is no longer pink.  Add the butter to the pan and turn off the heat.  Once butter melts, stir in the fresh bread crumbs.  Let the mixture cool a bit and then stir in the eggs.  Set the stuffing aside.

Preheat the oven to 375°.  Set up a roasting pan with a rack, lining the pan with the rosemary, thyme and sage.  Top with the onions and pour the chicken broth and wine over the herbs and onions.  Set aside.

On a cutting board, line up slices of pancetta to form a base for the roast.  Place the butterflied roast on top of the pancetta and fill the center with the stuffing.  You may have more stuffing than you can use, but this can be saved for another dish, to include stuffing turkey breasts or mushrooms.  Wrap the two sides of the roast over the stuffing to form a cylinder.  Continue to cover the roast with slices of pancetta, leaving no gaps.  Grab a length of kitchen twine and gently slide it under the roast.  Tie a tight knot, holding the length of the roast together.  Continue to tie rounds of twine around the roast perpendicular to the first tie.  Once the roast is tightly trussed, set on the rack in the roasting pan.  Pop the roast in the oven, cooking for about 90 minutes or until a thermometer inserted into the center of the roast reads 150°.

After you put the roast in the oven, wash and quarter the yukon golds.  Chuck in a baking pan with the rosemary, olive oil, salt and pepper.  Bake in the oven with the roast, making sure to shake the pan around every 30 minutes to loosen the potatoes and crisp them on all sides.

Once the roast is finished, let it rest for 15 minutes to keep it moist and allow the juices to redistribute.  Slice the roast and serve with potatoes and the wonderfully melted onions and juices on the bottom of the roasting pan.  And last but not least, add fennel pollen to the list of beneficiaries on your will for it is deserving of that much love.

Tortelli with Wild Boar and Stinging Nettles

A little danger in the kitchen can pay off royally – high flames, sharp knives and occasionally some tricky ingredients serve as the makings for many a glorious supper.  Stinging nettles are not nearly as dangerous as they sound assuming that you can play by the rules.  Handled raw, they will mess you up with vicious barbs in your skin.  But once you give them a luxurious bath in some boiling hot water, they lose all their bite.  Why mess with them at all?  Because these lovely greens have an earthy, nuttiness that kicks the ass of spinach any day.

The nettles take a lovely home as the filling for meat tortelli – wild boar is simmered until perfectly tender and blended with mortadella, pancetta and cheese.  Wrapped in homemade pasta and dressed with a light sauce of cream and peas, underneath the delicate flavors lies an air of mystery and danger.  As your guests tuck into these toothsome parcels, feel free to keep the secret of your forays into adventure with the exotic ingredients contained in this recipe.  I mean, you are pretty much the next 007 of the kitchen.  Or at least that’s what I hear.

This recipe makes a large amount of pasta, so feel free to freeze any leftovers for later.  Spread the tortelli on a cookie sheet dusted with semolina and pop into the freezer, making sure that none of the pasta is touching.  If you’re sick of cream sauce for your second go round with these guys, you can use a marinara or vodka sauce to mix things up.  Or, even better, cook in a pot of chicken stock for an exemplary tortellini en brodo (tortellini soup).  For leftover filling, make crepes or buy egg roll wrappers and make canneloni.  Roll a few tablespoons of filling into the wrappers, top with bechamel or marinara and bake in the oven until bubbly, about 30 minutes.

Recipe for

Tortelli with Wild Boar and Stinging Nettles

Ingredients
1 tbs. olive oil
2 tbs. butter
1 lb. ground wild boar
2 c. of chicken stock
1/2 onion
3 oz. of pancetta
6 oz. of mortadella
4 eggs
2 c. of grated locatelli
1/4 tsp. of nutmeg
1 tsp. of ground sage
1/8 tsp. of ground rosemary
1 shallot, finely diced
8 oz. of stinging nettles, blanched and chopped
1/4 tsp. of white pepper
salt to taste

1 c. of cake flour
2 c. of all-purpose flour
4 eggs
pinch of salt
1 tsp. of olive oil

2 tbs. of butter
2 tbs. of flour
2 c. of heavy cream
1 c. of milk
1 c. of locatelli, grated
1/8 tsp. white pepper
salt to taste
1 c. of green peas

Optional Equipment
pressure cooker
stand mixer with dough blade
pasta attachment for stand mixer
3 in. ring mold

Begin by making the meat filling.  Melt the butter and olive oil in a dutch oven.  Add the ground boar and onions and cook until the meat is no longer pink.  Add the chicken stock and simmer on medium-low until all liquid has evaporated, about an hour.  Alternatively, you can cook this mixture in the pressure cooker for 15 minutes to save time.  Allow to cool a bit and set aside.

In a food processor, add the mortadella, pancetta, nettles, rosemary and shallots and chop finely.  Add the wild boar and blitz until a smooth puree.  Remove mixture to a large bowl and add the eggs, cheese, nutmeg, sage and white pepper.  Taste for salt (should be on the saltier side) and reseason.  Set aside.

Now to make the dough – and feel free to use your favorite pasta recipe (or pre-made pasta sheets to save time).  In the bowl of a stand mixer, add the flour and the salt.  Make a well in the middle and add the eggs and olive oil.  Fit the mixer with the dough blade and allow to mix until a slightly sticky but well-mixed dough forms.  Dust the countertop with flour and knead until smooth.  Wrap in plastic and refrigerate for about an hour.

Before I start making tortelli, I like to set up a couple of elements to make the job easier:

  • a small bowl of water for sealing the edges of the pasta
  • a few cookie sheets lined with wax paper and dusted with flour (semolina works well)
  • a little mound of flour to dip the bottoms of each tortelli in after they are rolled (which prevents them from sticking to the wax paper)

Once your prep space is set up, start with the pasta dough.  Take out the dough and cut into four segments.  Grab a hunk of dough and dust with flour, leaving the other three segments wrapped in plastic so as not to allow them to get hard.  Run the dough through a pasta maker, starting with the widest setting and working your way down to the second to thinnest setting (on my pasta machine, that’s #7).  Flour the counter and lay out the sheet of dough.  Cut out circles using a ring mold.

To make the tortelli, take a pasta round and fill with a few teaspoons of the filling.  Brush the edge with a little bit of water and fold into a half moon, pushing out any excess air as you seal the edges.  Take the two points of the half moon and fold them in on each other, squeezing them together to seal.  Dip the bottom of the tortelli in the flour and then place on the cookie sheet.  Repeat until you run out of dough.

Put a large pot of water on to boil.  While it’s warming up, make your sauce.  Melt the butter in a saucepan.  Mix in the flour and stir to form a paste.  Slowly stir in the milk and cream in dribs and drabs, constantly whisking to form a smooth sauce.  Crank the heat up and keep on whisking until the sauce thickens.  Stir in the locatelli, white pepper and salt and turn heat down to low to keep warm while the pasta cooks.

Once the water comes to a boil, drop in the tortelli.  Once they’ve cooked for 3 minutes, toss the peas into the water.  Allow to cook for a mere 30 seconds, and then drain.  Toss the pasta with the sauce, making sure to be careful not to break any of the tortelli, and serve immediately.

Pulled Boar Panini with Miner’s Lettuce and Lemon Aioli

Sometimes it’s hard to believe that a dish with a fancy name and a fancier presentation can also be soul-satisfying comfort food.  This seemingly hoity-toity recipe is, at its most base form, an open-faced pulled pork sandwich.  The ingredients married together create a taste profile that is wholly sumptuous and ever so necessary.  I fell in love after first bite and promised myself that I’d make this one on repeat and revel in the glory as much as possible.

I use wild boar shoulder for this recipe, and thought the cut can take some time to braise until tender, I speed up the process with a trip to the pressure cooker.  If you can’t get boar, simply substitute pork shoulder – the taste won’t be nearly as rich, but you’ll still be able to get down.  Once the meat is shredded and cooled a bit, it rejoins the party on a raft of ciabatta, sharp provolone and a zesty homemade lemon aioli.  Miner’s lettuce serves as an interesting counterpoint for the unctuous boar and salty cheese – it’s texture alone, similar to spinach, adds the fresh finesse that makes this one a stunner.  Although this dish is an appetizer, just know that if you serve this dish first, chances are very good that people will fill up on these suckers with reckless abandon without a thought of saving room for anything else.  They are just. that. good.

Recipe for

Pulled Boar Panini with Miner’s Lettuce and Lemon Aioli

Ingredients
1 lb. wild boar shoulder, cut into 2-3 large chunks
4 c. of chicken stock
1 fennel bulb, quartered
1 onion, quartered
2 bay leaves
1 tsp of fennel pollen

2 cl. of garlic, minced
1 egg
zest of one lemon
juice of half a lemon
1 tsp. of dijon mustard
1/2 c. of olive oil
salt and pepper to taste

4 oz. of miner’s lettuce, stems removed
1 1/2 c. of sharp provolone cheese, shredded
1 loaf of ciabatta

Begin by preparing the wild boar.  Add the boar, fennel, onion, stock, fennel pollen and bay leaves to a pressure cooker.  Bring to high pressure and then allow to cook for 30 minutes.  Let the pressure subside naturally and remove boar from cooking liquid.  Shred with two forks and set aside.

Now make the aioli.  Add the egg, lemon, zest and mustard to a blender.  Blitz on high and slowly stream in the olive oil.  Turn off blender and taste for salt and pepper.  The aioli should be pretty loose and not as thick as a traditional mayonnaise, so thin with additional olive oil if necessary.  Set aside.

Halve the ciabatta lengthwise and spread with some of the aioli, saving a few tablespoons for drizzling.  Top with the shredded boar and add the provolone to the top.  Bake in the oven on 400° until the cheese has melted.  Remove the two ciabatta loaves to a cutting board and cut into 8 pieces for each loaf.  Sprinkle miner’s lettuce liberally over the top of the panini and drizzle with additional aioli.  Serve while still standing, eating it right from the kitchen and not stopping to take it to the table.

Fiddlehead Ferns with Gremolata

Fiddlehead Ferns with Gremolata © Photo by Angela GunderWhile many find themselves in the kitchen purely out of duty, I live for the moments of complete and total glory – the times where a new recipe, technique or ingredient inspire you to keep on plugging away at any new culinary quest you can get your hands on.  It’s like Dr. Seuss once said, “You have brains in your head.You have feet in your shoes. You can steer yourself any direction you choose. You’re on your own.  And you know what you know. And YOU are the guy who’ll decide where to go.”  Replace the shoes bit for a knife in your hand, and that pretty much sums up my quest for culinary majesty.

In planning the Feast of the Seven Boars, a lovely array of dishes with the aforementioned protein as the focus, my buddy Karen recommended we do something fun with the veggies.  Off to Marx Foods for inspiration and lo and behold, the Wild Produce Pack.  Bleedingly fresh ingredients that we’d never cooked before left us excited for a new adventure.  In addition to the miner’s lettuce and stinging nettles, we received a glorious treasure trove of fiddlehead ferns.  These little gems are an aesthetic delight – vibrant green and perfectly curled into delicate spirals.

We had learned that they tasted of asparagus and are often served with hollandaise, so in an homage to their taste-profile companion, we decided to follow one of my favorite preparations of asparagus – a quick saute with lemony gremolata.  It seemed apropos in that the addictive combination of lemon zest, garlic, parsley and olive oil are as bright as springtime, and the fiddleheads themselves are a true indicator that spring is right around the corner.  How could we not all fall in love?

Recipe for

Fiddlehead Ferns with Gremolata

Ingredients
1 lb. of fiddlehead ferns, trimmed of black ends
1 cl. of garlic, minced
1 cup of loosely packed parsley leaves
zest of 1 lemon
1/8 tsp. of freshly cracked pepper
1 tbs. of olive oil
1 tbs. of butter
kosher salt

Begin by finely chopping the parsley leaves.  Add the lemon zest, pepper and olive oil and stir.  Set aside.

Bring a large pot of water to a boil and salt.  Add the fiddlehead ferns and blanch quickly, for about a minute.  Drain well and rinse with cold water.  Set aside.

In a skillet, melt the butter.  Add the fiddleheads and toss to warm through, about 2 minutes.  Stir in the gremolata and sprinkle with kosher salt to taste.  Serve immediately.