Cornmeal-Crusted Salmon with Yogurt Sauce

by Sheila Connolly

Often I start cooking with one ingredient that I want to use in mind and then back into a recipe from there. This is one of those times.

The Plimoth Plantation Grist Mill

I live near Plymouth, Massachusetts, and recently I learned that I’m descended from John Jenney, who managed the first mill built in the Plymouth Colony. It’s still there—in spirit, at least—and now belongs to Plimoth Plantation. The site of that first mill is known, although once it shared space along the small river that runs through the town with a lot of other mills of varying kinds—but the original mill itself burned down in the 19^th century and was rebuilt then. The millstones (there are only the two, top and bottom) in the newly-rebuilt mill came from Pennsylvania.

Anyway, I decided to pay tribute to the memory of great-great…grandfather John and visited recently, and learned how corn was ground in 16-whatever and for a long while after that. It’s a process that still works, so of course I came home with some ground corn, both coarse and fine.

The "Sampa" on the left is coarser

Now, what to do with it? Cornmeal is a little sweet, and so is salmon, so I decided to put them together. Cornmeal also adds a nice crunch to the fish, but you’ve got to make it stick. So I came up with a recipe for a yogurt sauce. Most sauces using yogurt seem to come from Middle Eastern recipes, with herbs such as mint or coriander, but that didn’t seem to work with the colonial theme, so I tinkered with the recipe to emphasize the savory rather than the sweet.  Here’s the result.

Cornmeal Crusted Salmon with Yogurt Sauce

1 pound salmon filet (I used a single piece, which 

   doesn’t dry out so quickly when you broil it)

1/2 cup Greek style plain yogurt

1 Tblsp olive oil

1 garlic clove, pressed

Salt and pepper to taste

Sauce ingredients

1/2 cup coarsely ground corn meal

Mix the yogurt, olive oil, garlic and spices together. Coat the salmon with the mixture, then press the cornmeal onto the surface to form a thin crust. Save the sauce you have left over to add after cooking.

Cover a broiler pan with foil and place the coated salmon piece on it (you could also do this on an outdoor grill, but watch that it doesn’t overcook). Set the oven rack in the middle of the oven, not too close to the broiler flame—you need to make sure the fish is cooked through before the crust is too brown. Broil for 5-10 minutes (sorry to be vague, but this time depends on how hot your broiler is, and how thick your salmon filet is), or until the fish feels springy rather than squishy.

Serve immediately, topped with some of the remaining yogurt sauce, accompanied by a vegetable—in this case I had some lovely little peppers so I sliced those and sauteed them quickly in olive oil while the fish was broiling.

Breaking news! Reunion with Death (Beyond the Page Publishing, 2013) will be available for a week starting Saturday, October 4th, for 99 cents! In case you missed it when it first appeared, here's the description:

Laura Shumway couldn’t say why she’d agreed to go on the class reunion trip to Italy. Maybe it was to take stock of her life, or maybe it was just to catch up with old friends, take in the sights, and relax in the beautiful Tuscan countryside. Either way, she knew she’d discover a lot on the trip, both about herself and her former classmates. What she didn’t expect to discover was the dead body of esteemed professor Anthony Gilbert.

Before the polizia or carabiniere get involved, Laura and a few trusted classmates set out among the vineyards and hills of the Italian Riviera to solve the murder on their own. With the help of some influential locals and good old-fashioned detective work, they're soon led to the conclusion that one of their classmates might be a killer—and what started as a trip to see how far they’d all come may turn into a stark lesson about just how far one of them would go.

Available for Kindle and Nook, and most other e-formats.

And in case I haven't reminded you enough, Picked to Die (Orchard Mystery #8) comes out next Tuesday!

Pasta e Fagioli AKA Pasta Fazool

by Sheila Connolly

 

It was dark—dark in the morning when she had to get up; dark by four o’clock in the afternoon.  And it was raining, a steady soaking rain that wouldn’t let up. Every now and then it spit snow, just for the heck of it. It was cold, too, with that bone chilling dampness that trumped whatever the thermometer read.

She didn’t want to go out. She wanted to curl up in her oldest sweats, with a cup of hot tea and a good book, and maybe a purring cat on her lap to keep her company.

 

Translation: it was a lousy Saturday in January and I didn’t feel like putting on my outdoor clothes and going to the market (all of a mile away) to buy food, but it had been a week since I’d last shopped and supplies were getting low. So, what could I make with what I had on hand?

The potatoes had been used up, so that eliminated every quick and easy Irish dish. What else was lurking in that pantry? Onions, carrots, stocks, beans, pasta…aha, pasta fazool!

That name has always mystified me, so first I had to satisfy my curiosity: what did that term mean and why was I familiar with it? Turns out that it’s a corruption of “pasta e fagioli” which is Italian for “pasta and beans.”  It was made popular in a novelty song written in 1927 by two American songwriters (Van and Schenk), who in addition to the hearty peasant soup, apparently included references to Babe Ruth, John D. Rockefeller, Charles Lindbergh, Christopher Columbus and Benito Mussolini—something for everyone!). No, I was not around in 1927 to hear it.

But why did Dean Martin pop into my head? Aha! One of his signature songs was “That’s Amore,” which includes the immortal line, “When the stars make you drool/just like a pasta fazool, that’s amore.” (The better-known line is “when the moon hits your eye/like a big pizza pie.”)

Which, in a totally irrelevant aside, led me to ask Google why there was this persistent rumor that Dean Martin had once lived over the Chinese restaurant in Swarthmore, Pennsylvania, where I lived for 15 years (much, much later!). Turns out his first wife, Betty MacDonald, came from Swarthmore. One more mystery solved.

Anyway, I had all the ingredients for pasta fazool, so I was off to the races—and didn’t have to leave the house. Note: I started with Marcella Hazan’s recipe but soon strayed from it. Hey, it’s a simple peasant soup, not a soufflé—improvise!

 

Pasta e fagioli

1 small yellow onion, chopped

1/4 cup olive oil

1-2 carrots (depending on size), chopped

1 14-ounce can Italian tomatoes, chopped, with their juice

1 cup white beans

3 cups beef broth

6 oz. small tubular pasta

Salt and pepper

1/2 cup grated Parmesan cheese

Two additional notes:

 

-- Most recipes call for some pork product. I was tired of ham, but I did have a half-roll of ground sausage, so I made tiny meatballs (I used a melon baller) and sauted them briefly so they’d hold together in the soup.

-- Beans: If you’re using dry beans, better to start well ahead of time to soak or pre-boil them, because once you start cooking this soup, they won’t really have time to soften thoroughly.  Or use canned beans—much faster!

Heat the oil in a stockpot and sauté the chopped onion until pale gold. Add the chopped carrot and sauté about 10 minutes, stirring occasionally.  

 

 

Add the tomatoes with their juice, turn the heat down and continue to cook another 15 minutes or so.  

 

 

Add the meat, the broth and the beans and cook at a low simmer for another 30 minutes.  Scoop out a half-cup or so of the bean-vegetable mixture and puree it roughly (this thickens the soup just a bit) and return it to the pot. Taste for seasoning and add salt and pepper if needed. 

 

 

Raise the heat to a steady boil and add the pasta.  Cook until the pasta is al dente, not mushy. 

Remove the pot from the heat and let it sit for ten minutes, to pull the flavors together (and let the pasta finish cooking). 

 

 

 

Just before serving, swirl in the grated cheese.  If this isn’t substantial enough for you (it’s more a stew than a soup), serve with a nice crusty bread, and maybe a nice glass of vino rosso. 

 

 

Mangia! It’s a nice hearty soup for a cold wet day.

Scandal in only ten days!

And in keeping with the Italian theme, Reunion with Death (no, I don't mean the soup will kill you! but it is Italian).

 

 

 

Minestrone

by Sheila Connolly

Oh, lucky me:  I get to post the day after Thanksgiving.  Could people possibly be hungry?  The choice usually comes down to (a) leftovers (all that turkey just sitting there taking up half the fridge, plus dribs and drabs of the side dishes), or (b) something as far from turkey and fixings as possible, yet still easy to make because you’ve been cooking like a maniac for days.

Soup.  It’s November.  It’s cold and dark and maybe wet.  You want something soothing.  This is the recipe:  minestrone.

There are probably as many minestrone recipes as there are cooks.  It’s a great dish to keep simmering on your back burner, and the beauty of it is that you can add whatever vegetables (preferably fresh, but canned will do) you happen to have on hand. Sure, there’s some chopping involved, but you can take your time. The only restriction is that you have to be on hand to add ingredients every now and then, and the rest of the time the soup simply burbles quietly on low heat.  Serve it with some crusty bread (I usually make corn sticks with this) and you have a complete meal.

 

Minestrone

1 cup dried beans (white or whatever you prefer)

2 lbs. marrow bones (if these give you the creeps, you can leave them out, but they do contribute to the flavor)

2 1/2 qts. water

 

3 slices bacon, diced

1 Tblsp. olive oil

1 large onion, minced (about a cup)

1 clove garlic, crushed

 

1 carrot, chopped

1 cup chopped potatoes

1 cup peas

2 small zucchini, diced

 

The last from my garden

1 1/2 cups chopped tomatoes

1 cups shredded cabbage

salt and pepper to taste

1/2 tsp. powdered sage (or fresh)

1 tsp. dried basil

 

1/4 cup raw rice

 

2 Tblsp. butter

1 Tblsp. minced parsley

1/2 cup grated Parmesan cheese

 

Wash the beans and put them in a large soup kettle. Cover with cold water, bring to a boil, and remove from heat. Let stand 1 hour.

Drain the beans. Add the water and the beef bones. Bring to a boil and simmer, uncovered, for 1 1/2 hours. (I won't give you pictures, because this part is not pretty.)

Sauté the bacon until golden. Drain off the fat. Add the oil to the pan, then the onions and garlic and cook over medium heat for 5 minutes. 

 

 

Stir in the carrots, potatoes, peas and zucchini and cook for another 5 minutes, stirring occasionally.

 

 

Remove the beef bones from the beans. Add fried vegetables, tomatoes, cabbage and seasonings. Simmer, uncovered, for 1 hour.

Add the rice and continue cooking for 30 minutes.

Cream together the butter, cheese and parsley.  Add to the hot soup and stir until dissolved.

 

 

See?  Easy, and relatively low fat (you can leave out the butter at the end if you want, but don’t skip the bacon), not to mention warm and homey. By the way, it’s even better the second day, if you have any left.

 

 

And even more appropriate because my new book, Reunion with Death (released last week), is set in the north of Italy, where the food is amazing.

Available in print and e-format from Amazon.com

Squash and Apple Thanksgiving Casserole

by Sheila Connolly

Thanksgiving dinner at our house was always the same:  turkey with Pepperidge Farm Stuffing from a bag, mashed potatoes, gravy, something green (frozen peas/beans/broccoli), and cranberry sauce out of a can.  After a while we could all make it in our sleep, knowing exactly when each step of the process had to begin.  Once I made a daring departure and tried out a stuffing with (gasp) sausage, which was met with stony silence from the rest of the family.  Back to the bread stuffing I went. Don’t mess with tradition.

But the world is full of culinary wonders!  I’m trying out a new recipe that combines butternut squash and apples.  This year for the first time I can use apples from my own trees, which produced a very nice crop (I can’t claim it’s due to my extraordinary abilities, but I’ve been enjoying the results right along).

A note about butternut squash:  you can buy it peeled and cubed at most markets.  While I am a firm believer in doing things from scratch (and my cute little squashes here came from the last local farmers market), the @#$%& things are hard to peel and cut, and I’d hate to have you whack off a finger, especially right before Thanksgiving.  Take the easy way out and buy it, with my blessing.

The interesting thing about squash/apple recipes is that they can’t decide whether they want to be sweet or savory.  My personal preference is savory, because sweet vegetables like beets and sweet potatoes have always made me gag, and there’s cranberry sauce to add both color and sweetness to the meal.  (And don’t forget dessert!)

 

From my own tree!

Baked Butternut Squash and Apples

3 Tblsp butter, melted

1½ lbs butternut squash, peeled, seeded and cut into ½-inch cubes (another note:  don’t feel bad if your cubes aren’t perfect—just don’t make them too big)

 

 

 

2-3 large apples (you don’t need to peel them, but pick a variety that holds up well to cooking—I used Cortlands), cored and cut into ½-inch cubes (about 4 cups)

 

The pieces should all be about the same size

1 small sweet onion (Vidalia), coarsely chopped

 

 

¼ cup flour

½ cup chicken stock (or you may use apple juice or apple cider)

Salt and pepper to taste

 

Preheat the oven to 350 degrees.  Grease a casserole or glass baking pan.

In a large bowl, place the cubed squash, apples and onions.  Toss with the flour, then the melted butter, to cover evenly.  Add salt and pepper.

Ready for the oven

Place the squash-apple mixture in the casserole or baking dish and pour the liquid over it.  Cover it if you like—the top isn’t going to brown anyway, and it will cook more evenly top to bottom. Bake until the squash is tender (about 45 minutes).  This can be made ahead (always a good thing for Thanksgiving!)

Ready to serve!

 

Variations:  the most common addition is cinnamon, followed closely by maple syrup.  If you like your vegetables sweet, either would be good.  On the savory side, other mavericks suggest adding cheddar or blue cheese, bacon, balsamic vinegar, whole-grain mustard, rosemary or time (not all in the same dish!). 

You know the people gathered around your table.  Make what you think they’d like, and enjoy each other’s company!

 

Available through Amazon in print and e-formats--today!

 

 

 

Eggplant-Potato Casserole

by Sheila Connolly

At the last of our farmers’ markets in town here, I snagged the last of the eggplants from one of the vendors.  They’re small, but I’m a sucker for cute little vegetables.

It seems a waste to dice them up, so I thought I’d do something that retained a hint of their diminutive size.

When I started considering recipes, I peeked at Marcella Hazan’s Classic Italian Cooking (I will be eternally grateful to her for introducing me to quick pesto, which we eat all the time at my house). Alas, her suggestions for eggplant were few.  More troubling was her statement that small eggplants tend to be bitter.  How can that be? I cried.  When I checked other sources (would you believe that Google filled in the blanks for me with “are small eggplants bitter?”), they strongly disagreed.  Sorry, Marcella.

So I decided to try an eggplant-potato tart, mainly because when sliced, the potatoes and the eggplants are just about the same in diameter.  Slice them so they will cook at about the same rate.




I will admit that I don’t really like peeling anything.  My theory is, if your vegetables/potatoes/fruits are young enough and fresh enough, it won’t matter.  Besides, the peels are good for you—roughage, you know. (I would not necessarily say this of big, tough eggplants, but I do eat the skins of my baked potatoes.)

Traditionally recipes call for salting the eggplant to draw out the liquid, lest the dish become soggy when cooked.  I’m of two minds about that, but I guess it can’t hurt.  Just dry off the slices before you start sautéing, and make sure you don’t oversalt in the next stages.

Eggplant-Potato Casserole

2-3 cups small eggplant, sliced about ¼” thick (about a pound)

1 tsp coarse salt

The same amount of waxy potatoes (not Idahos), sliced to the same thickness

Cooking oil for the pan

The Mega-Shallot

3 Tblsp minced shallots

Pepper

½ stick (1/4 cup) butter

breadcrumbs or panko and/or grated Parmesan cheese for the top

Preheat the oven to 375 degrees.

Slice the eggplant and place in a non-metallic bowl and toss with the salt.  Let sit for 20 minutes.  Remove to a clean towel or paper towels and blot dry.

Heat about 2 Tblsp oil in a sauté pan over medium heat.  Briefly sauté the shallots to soften, then add the eggplant slices. Cook for 5-7 minutes, then set aside.

 

In another, ovenproof sauté pan, add another 2-3 Tblsp of oil and sauté the potato slices until they are soft but not browned. Remove half, then season what’s left in the pan with salt and pepper.  Add the eggplant slices in a layer over the potatoes, then return the rest of the potatoes to the pan and season.  Press down slightly to level. 

 

Sprinkle the top with breadcrumbs (you may mix in some grated Parmesan cheese) or panko, then dot the top with small pieces of butter.  Place the pan in the oven and bake for about 30 minutes, then begin testing the potatoes to see if they are done (a sharp knife works well).

 

 

Remove from the oven and let rest for five minutes.  Serve  immediately.

This can be a main course for a light meal, or a side dish for a larger one (I think it would go well with a roast).  If you feel like experimenting, you can add some herbs such as oregano when you’re creating the layers.

Coming November 22nd

No recipes, but lots of food!

 

 

 

 

Shrimp with Garlic and Saffron

by Sheila Connolly

Shoot, this recipe is just too easy! A grand total of seven ingredients. The hardest part is finding smoked paprika (but you can’t substitute the regular kind).

A word on shrimp. My husband and I have often chat with the woman who staffs the fish counter at our local market, and we eat seafood at least once a week. They sell shrimp there, both raw (shell on) and cooked. In an adjacent case, they sell bags of frozen shrimp. Guess what: it’s all the same shrimp. The bulk shrimp are shipped to the store in large bags, and they’re frozen. For the fresh shrimp, they’re thawed in-store.

Frozen shrimp are not evil. They’re all coming from Indonesia or Thailand these days, and over there they’ve long since figured out how to flash-freeze seafood. They taste fine, and some nice people have already removed the icky vein (i.e., the digestive tube). You can buy them peeled or not. You can keep the frozen ones in your freezer for that day when you have no time and nothing fresh to cook—and now you have this quick and tasty recipe.

With shell

Cleaned and ready

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

One digression: shrimp are harvested off the coast of County Cork in Ireland. I was incredulous when I first heard this, but it’s true—something about the warm currents there. I was tipped off when I innocently ordered what was called a shrimp sandwich in Baltimore in County Cork (in a restaurant across the street from the harbor there), and this was what arrived:

 

 

SAUTEED SHRIMP WITH GARLIC AND SAFFRON

¼ cup olive oil

3 sliced garlic cloves

1 pounds peeled shrimp (about 2 cups)

1 tsp smoked paprika

1 tsp ground cumin

Pinch of saffron

Pinch of cayenne pepper

Salt to taste

Heat the olive oil in a large skillet over medium-low heat. Add the sliced garlic and saute until golden.

 

Stir in the other ingredients and cook, turning the shrimp once or twice, until the shrimp are pink—just a few minutes.

Serve over rice/pasta. Garnish with parsley if you like.

See?  Told you it was easy. One bonus: the combination smells wonderful even before you start cooking!

Coming November 22nd

A New York Times bestseller!