SPRING IS IN THE AIR

Intensely spring--the perfume of orange blossoms.

From my kitchen window I look down across rolling hills and a river valley to the blue Mediterranean Sea. After spring rains the hills are covered with a velvety growth of new grasses. Wildflowers spring up in meadows. In the rocky crevices of the arroyo I hear partridge calling for their mates. The nightingales are tuning up their moonlight arpeggios and the swallows have returned to nest under the eaves.

Bare, gnarled limbs of fig trees begin to sprout tender leaves, like green butterflies alighting on the tips of branches, some with nubbins of tiny new figs. Vineyards show new sprigs of green on pruned-back vines. A grove of orange trees borders my property. When they bloom in the spring the heady fragrance fills my valley. It is so achingly sweet.

Fresones--extra large, extra sweet strawberries.

The orange blossoms inspired a dessert for tomorrow’s dinner party.  At the supermarket I bought a two-kilo box of strawberries (about $5.00 for 4 ½ pounds). They are huge fresones, grown in Huelva province (southern Spain). You might think that berries this glamorous can’t possibly have any taste, but they are sweet and flavorful.

To go with the strawberries, I concocted an orange-blossom sauce, adapted from a recipe for Mulhalabya in Paula Wolfert’s Moroccan Cuisine. Her recipe calls for orange blossom water. I used real orange blossoms instead, steeping them in hot milk. The orange blossom infusion is wonderfully fragrant, but slightly bitter. I added powdered stevia to sweeten. Cornstarch and an egg yolk thicken the mixture to make a pouring custard.

Bring 2 cups milk to a boil. Remove from heat and add a strip of orange zest, 3 crushed cardamom pods and ¼ cup washed orange blossoms. Allow to infuse for 30 minutes. Strain the milk, discarding the blossoms and zest. In a small bowl, mix 4 tablespoons cornstarch with ¼ cup milk. Place the orange-blossom milk in a saucepan with sugar or stevia to taste (2-4 tablespoons) and whisk in the cornstarch. Cook, stirring constantly, until thickened. Beat 1 egg yolk in a small bowl. Stir some of the hot milk into the yolk, then whisk it into the saucepan. Cook until thickened. Cool, then refrigerate until serving time. To serve, spoon the sauce over berries.

Alongside the strawberries with orange blossom sauce, I’ll serve crunchy almond meringue cookies, made with the leftover egg whites from a yolk extravaganza a couple weeks ago (see the recipe for Crema Catalana here). I saved the whites in the freezer. 

Crunchy almond meringue cookies with berries, orange blossom sauce.

Almond Puffs
Suspiros de Almendras

The puffs can be made with finely chopped almonds, but sliced or slivered almonds make a wonderfully crunchy cookie.

Sliced almonds.

Makes about 30 2-inch puffs.

2 ½ cups sliced almonds
2 large egg whites
½ cup sugar
½ teaspoon lemon juice
Grated lemon zest

Preheat oven to 350ºF. Spread sliced almonds in a shallow oven pan and toast them in the oven, stirring once or twice, until they are very lightly toasted, about 5 minutes. Remove and let them cool.

Reduce oven heat to 250ºF.

Place the egg whites in a mixing bowl. With a mixer on high speed, beat them until stiff. Beat in the sugar, lemon juice and zest.

Fold the almonds into the egg whites.

Line baking sheets with no-stick baking paper or, alternatively, have ready about 30 small (2 inch) fluted paper cups on a baking sheet. Spoon the almond batter onto baking sheets or into the paper cups, mounding it.

Bake 40 minutes in a slow oven. Turn off the oven and let the puffs cool in the oven. Store them in an air-tight container.

Crunchy almond puffs.

FUN IN THE KITCHEN: FINDING A NEW INGREDIENT

Crispy cheese-filled rolls, perfect with a glass of wine.

I was surprised to find, In my small village grocery store, a package containing hojas de brick, leaves of a ready-made pastry known as brik or brick or bric. Brik is not part of traditional Spanish cooking, but I had watched Spanish chefs use it in cooking demos to create all sorts of fancy pastries with both sweet and savory fillings. I could not resist buying the packet. A little fun in the kitchen, experimenting with a new ingredient.

Brik is a very, very thin pastry, also known as malsouqa in Tunisia, where it comes from. Over the years, it has become naturalized in France and, from there, has made it’s way into Spanish cooking. It is somewhat like phyllo or Turkish yufka, but considerably easier to work with, as it is not so apt to dry out and become brittle. It’s most like Moroccan warqa.

I put out a query about brik on Facebook’s Moroccan Cooking page and Paula Wolfert, author of THE FOOD OF MOROCCO (ECCO, 2012), replied: “Brik pastry is a wee bit thicker than Moroccan warqa. The making of warqa, the paper-thin pastry leaves used in the famous Moroccan briks, pastillas, and other recipes, is always performed by specialists. It’s wonderful to watch these women as they knead a ball of dough then tap it multiple times on a metal pan heated over a charcoal brazier, creating a paper-thin leaf, dab by dab. It’s a time consuming process, difficult to master” (although Paula suggests an easier method).

Brik--as thin as tissue paper.

But, back to my kitchen in Spain, where I have ready-made brik. I opened the package of brik and found 10 circular sheets of pastry, about 12 inches in diameter, each separated by a sheet of waxed paper. Paper thin, they look somewhat like crêpes, with slightly lacy-looking edges. The label says they are made with wheat flour, water, salt, sunflower oil, preservatives, acidulant and emulsifying agent.

I removed five sheets and returned the rest to the plastic package, taping it closed and storing in the fridge. The remaining sheets kept very well until I used them a few days later.

Brik pastry can be fried or baked. The classic Tunisian brik, with a whole (raw) egg sealed inside a triangular packet, is fried. I tried both frying and baking and actually prefer the baked ones. They come out of the oven shatteringly crisp. Cones of brik pastry also can be baked without a filling.

Brik pastry is best served soon after baking, before it loses its snap. But, a day later, I experimented with reheating some of them (90 seconds in a 400ºF-oven). They crisped up quite nicely.

Cut in half, roll reveals filling of cheese and walnuts.

Crispy Cheese Rolls

Crispy Cheese Rolls were the most successful of my experiments. They were easy to assemble. I used toothpicks to secure the rolls, but I don’t think this is necessary. The picks are hard to remove after frying or baking without breaking the pastry. Half of the rolls I fried in olive oil, the remainder I baked. I discovered it was best to place them on the baking sheet with the seam-side up, so that the smooth side browned on the bottom. Some I brushed with oil, some I didn’t. The ones brushed with oil browned a little better, but it’s hardly necessary.

I used cured goat cheese to fill these rolls. Cured Manchego could be used instead. Directions are given for both frying and baking the rolls. They are best served immediately, while still hot. A sweet-tart quince sauce would be a good accompaniment (recipe ). Serve any sauce separately so it doesn't turn the pastry soggy.
(This recipe is adapted from one found in HOLA Cocina, an annual publication by Hola magazine http://www.hola.com/.)

Makes 10 rolls.

¼ cup chopped walnuts
6 ounces chopped or coarsely grated cheese
1 tablespoon chopped chives
Freshly ground black pepper
5 sheets of brik
Olive oil if frying the rolls

In a bowl combine the nuts, cheese, chives and pepper.

Cut pastry sheet in half, add filling.

Fold in the sides and roll up.

Use kitchen scissors to cut one sheet of the brik pastry in half. Place a spoonful of the nut-cheese mixture at the end of one half. Fold in the sides, then roll up the strip of pastry to form a roll. Place on a baking sheet. Repeat, using half a sheet of pastry for each roll.

To bake the rolls, preheat oven to 400ºF. If desired, brush the rolls with oil. Bake the rolls until lightly browned, about 5 minutes.

To fry the rolls, heat ½ inch of oil in a skillet. Fry the rolls, a few at a time, turning them to brown both sides, about 30 seconds per side. Remove and allow to drain on paper towels.

Crispy pastry cups are filled with spinach, cheese.

Spinach in Pastry Cups

These were problematic. They looked good and tasted great. But, in actuality, the filling soaked through the bottom of the pastry cups, making them difficult to remove from the muffin tin without breaking. Perhaps a double layer of pastry leaves to reinforce the bottoms? (The pastry cups, as pictured, were made with a single quarter-sheet of brik.)

Makes 6.

1 tablespoon olive oil plus more for greasing the muffin pan
1 tablespoon pine nuts
2 cloves garlic, chopped
10 ounces spinach, chopped
Salt and pepper
Grating of fresh nutmeg
1 teaspoon vinegar
1 egg yolk
3 sheets of brik pastry
¼ cup grated cheese

Preheat oven to 400ºF.

Heat the oil in a skillet and fry the pine nuts until golden. Skim them out and reserve. Add the garlic. When it begins to brown, add the spinach. Season with salt, pepper, nutmeg and vinegar. Cook until spinach is wilted and all the moisture is cooked off. Remove to a small bowl. Stir in the pine nuts and egg yolk.

Brush a 6-muffin tin with olive oil. Cut 1 brik pastry leaf in quarters. Fit one quarter into a muffin cup. Place a second quarter-leaf into the cup. Use remaining pastry, cut in quarters, to line 5 more muffin cups.

Divide the spinach filling between the 6 cups. Sprinkle grated cheese on tops. Bake until the edges of the pastry are golden-brown, about 4 minutes. Carefully remove the pastry cups from the muffin tin. Serve hot.

Aperitif or starter, spinach-filled pastry cups are so good.

Moroccan Tagine, With a Spanish Twist

Chicken cooked in a tagine with fresh lemons and olives.

Did you see the sunset photo I posted at the end of last week’s blog? It didn’t have anything to do with cooking, but it was the view from “my kitchen in Spain,” looking south, across darkening hills, across Mediterranean waters mirroring the sun’s red glow, to the horizon, the hills of North Africa. Morocco. Another continent.

So near and yet so far. That sensation inspired me to get the Moroccan earthenware tagine off the high shelf and pull out a recipe from Paula Wolfert’s new book, THE FOOD OF MOROCCO (ECCO, 2012), for kefta tagine. Kefta are spiced meatballs cooked in the tagine with nothing more complicated than grated onion, spices and water, yet the flavors are extraordinary.

Earthenware tagine from Morocco.

In Spanish cooking, there is nothing quite like the tagine, with its shallow base and conical lid. Tagine—the word is used for the finished dish as well as the cooking vessel—is as much of a cooking process as an object. Foods are added to the tagine without previous browning (no sofrito!). The conical top traps steam and keeps it circulating, resulting in tender food full of flavor.

I love the simplicity of layering ingredients—oil or butter in the bottom, then grated onions for flavor and substance. On top, the meatballs or, in my next experiment, chicken pieces. Spices, including saffron, water to partially cover. Covered with the lid and simmered, the food becomes ever so tender while it soaks up the spices.

I consulted Paula’s recipe for tagine of chicken with olives and lemons—but I chose to use the method, but not follow the authentic ingredients. In southern Spain, there are many Moroccan shops where I can buy salty preserved lemons, but I prefer the tart-sweetness of fresh lemons, of which I have lots. I know—this is all wrong. But, I like it like this! The lemons cook down to marmalade consistency.

Spanish brine-cured olives.

Also, I added my own Spanish cracked, brine-cured olives to give the dish a Spanish inflection.



For lots of information about authentic Moroccan cooking, check out Paula Wolfert's Facebook page, Moroccan Cooking.

If you don't have an authentic tagine, use an ovenproof casserole with a tight-fitting lid and cook the tagine in the oven. To pit cracked olives, squeeze them and the pits pop out. Instead of carrots, other vegetables can be cooked with the chicken—pumpkin, fennel, artichokes. Taste the sauce when you turn the chicken pieces, if it seems too tart, add a spoonful of honey. Serve the tagine with bread, rice or cous cous.

Chicken cooks with onion, spices and lemons.

Tagine of Chicken with Fresh Lemons and Olives

Serves 4.

Chicken and spices ready to cook.

½ teaspoon saffron, crushed in a mortar
½ cup boiling water
2 ¾ pounds chicken legs and thighs
Salt and freshly ground black pepper
3 tablespoons olive oil
1 medium onion, grated or finely chopped in a food processor
1 medium lemon, halved and sliced
1 teaspoon pimentón (sweet paprika)
½ teaspoon powdered ginger
½ teaspoon ground cumin
½ teaspoon coriander seeds
½ teaspoon ground black pepper
1 tablespoon chopped parsley
2 cloves garlic, slivered
2 carrots, sliced
3 small onions, halved
½ cup water
½ cup pitted brine-cured olives
Parsley or cilantro leaves to garnish

Put the saffron in a heat-proof bowl and add the boiling water. Allow to infuse for 30 minutes.

Sprinkle the chicken with salt and pepper and allow to come to room temperature.

Place the oil in the bottom of a tagine. Spread the grated onion on top. Arrange the lemon slices over the onions. Place the chicken pieces in the tagine. Sprinkle with the pimentón, ginger, cumin, coriander, pepper, parsley and garlic. Tuck the carrots and onions between chicken pieces. Pour over the saffron water and remaining water.

Bring to a boil, cover the tagine and reduce heat so the liquid just simmers. Cook 30 minutes. Turn the chicken pieces, cover and cook until chicken is very tender, about 30 minutes longer. Remove lid, add the olives and cook, uncovered, 10 to 15 minutes more.

Allow to set, covered, 10 minutes. If desired, skim off excess fat from the surface. Garnish with parsley or cilantro.