BATTLE OF THE BLENDERS

Mano a mano.

Years ago, before my kids were born, I lived in a rustic mill house in the country, with no electricity and no running water. Or, I should say, the running water came from a rushing stream, carried to the house in buckets. When I eventually built a new house in a small olive grove, I installed both water and electricity. No more kerosene lamps! No bucket showers!

I immediately went out and bought myself an electric blender, a Braun Minipimer. A hand-held immersion blender, it was at that time a “revolutionary” new design.

After twenty-five years—and much gazpacho, baby-food purée and mayonnaise—my blender finally gave out. I was right in the middle of testing gazpacho recipes for the cookbook, My Kitchen in Spain. So I went right out and got another, basically the same Braun blender, 300 watts. But this one came with an additional attachment—a mini-processor for chopping.

I found I used that chopping gadget quite a lot—much handier than pulling out the food processor (Moulinex, 400 watts). In fact, in 13 years, I seem to have used it so much that I eventually wore out the gears or whatever it is that  connects the motor to rotate the blade. The blender still works, although it’s making a funny buzzing noise when it’s in operation. (A blender in Spanish is a batidora; a food processor is called a robot de cocina.)

Meanwhile, my good friend Charlotte was having her own blender dilemma. She was devoted to an old Osterizer (600 watts), brought from the US and run with a transformer on Spanish current. When the glass container broke, she was devastated. She had a practically new Braun immersion blender hanging in her kitchen. Even though I raved about it, she resisted using it, claiming nothing was as good as the Osterizer.  

So I went blender shopping. I found a new Osterizer for Charlotte, manufactured for European current. Although she was heard to say, “well, they don’t make them the way they used to” (plastic where the old one had metal), she seems delighted.

My new kitchen tool--a Bosch blender and mini-processor.

And, for myself, I found on sale a Bosch combo immersion blender, mini-processor/chopper plus whip attachment. With a whopping 750 watts, it will even grind ice.

I’m putting the new tool through it’s paces—blending last week’s pumpkin soup (see that recipe in the previous blog post); finely chopping onions for meatballs; making a quickie basil-walnut pesto using the chopper;

Puréeing beans for bean-kale soup.

puréeing beans for Tuscan bean-kale soup (the recipe by Nancy Harmon Jenkins is on the Saveur web site); coarsely chopping nuts for a cookie recipe;

Mini-processor for chopping nuts.

Puréeing mangos with yogurt for ice cream.

 puréeing mangos with yogurt for “ice cream” (recipe).

I still haven’t tried out the whipping attachment. Are meringues coming up next? Oh, in my appliance nook are also a standing mixer, a Sunbeam Mixmaster that is more than 40 years old, which I pull out whenever a birthday cake is on the horizon, and a hand-held mixer which I never use.

I’m pleased with my new equipment, although I don’t really need such high wattage (300-400 watts is adequate for making gazpacho and most purées).

Shredded zucchini for savory flan.

So, it looks like it’s retirement for the good old Braun. But, the old Moulinex processor, with its cracked food bowl repaired with strapping tape, stays, as I like the grating disk—perfect for shredding zucchini and grating cheese for a zucchini flan (recipe ).

Zucchini flan.

I’m hoping that the life expectancy of the new blender is at least as long as the one it replaces. In my kitchen, it gets almost daily use. Or, is there a Thermomix in my future?

PUMPKIN SOUP, FIT FOR A MARQUÉS

Pumpkin soup with chopped apple.

A plethora of pumpkins! I’ve got some green pumpkins with orange flesh raised in the garden by son Ben and grandson Leo and some butternut squash brought to me by my gardener, Juan. So, I’m flipping through my files, searching for pumpkin recipes.

Leo with pumpkins.

Some I will steam until tender, then puree and freeze the flesh for making pumpkin pie and pudding for holiday meals. I’ll be making some more alboronía, a pumpkin and chickpea stew (that recipe I posted only a few weeks ago). And, calabaza frita, “fried pumpkin,” an old-fashioned Andalusian recipe.

But, here’s a great rendition of pumpkin soup. This recipe is adapted from one given to me by Carlos Falcó, Marqués de Griñón, who makes superlative vino de pago, single-estate wine, at Dominio de Valdepusa, in Toledo province.

The Marqués pours wine at lunch.

A few years ago when I was researching the foods and wines of La Mancha (central Spain), I had the good fortune to be invited by Don Carlos to a wine tasting and lunch at the estate on the first day of the vendimia, or grape harvest. (My interview with him about wine appears in COOKING FROM THE HEART OF SPAIN, FOOD OF LA MANCHA; William Morrow, 2006.)

This soup makes an elegant starter for a holiday dinner. You can change its basic personality by swapping the finishing garnishes. Add color with a swirl of red pepper puree. Add  texture with pomegranate seeds or toasted almonds. Make it richer with a dollop of Greek yogurt or cream. Turn it into a delightful vegetarian main-course meal by adding cooked brown rice and grated cheese.

Swirl cream into the pumpkin puree.

Red pepper puree and chopped chives to garnish the soup.

I used butternut squash for the soup. Squash, carrots, red bell pepper and leeks make a very sweet soup. A touch of Sherry vinegar balances the flavors. Homemade chicken stock is best, but canned broth can be substituted. My stock was made with the addition of a chile pepper, which, I must say, added a lot to the finished soup. How much salt you will need depends on how much salt in the stock.

Roasting the pumpkin and bell pepper before incorporating them in the soup adds an extra dimension of flavor and makes it easy to peel them. This step is optional.

I use an immersion blender to purée the soup. Passing the purée through a chinois sieve makes it especially smooth and creamy.

Pomegranate seeds add color and crunch to a smooth soup.

Cream of Pumpkin Soup
Crema de Calabaza

Serves 6.

3 tablespoons olive oil
1 leek, chopped
1 diced carrot
1 ½ cups chopped red bell pepper
2 cloves chopped garlic
1 ¼ pounds pumpkin, peeled, seeded and cut in 1-inch cubes (2 ½ cups)
1 medium potato, diced
5 cups chicken stock
1 tablespoon Sherry vinegar
1 strip orange zest
Sprig of fresh thyme
1 bay leaf
Dash of cloves
¼ teaspoon cumin
½ teaspoon salt or to taste
1 cup milk or light cream (optional)
Diced apple to garnish

Heat the oil in a soup pot and sauté the leek, carrot, and pepper on medium heat for 5 minutes. Add the garlic and pumpkin and sauté 5 minutes more.

Add the potato, stock, vinegar, orange zest, thyme, bay leaf, cloves, cumin and salt. Bring the soup to a boil, cover, and simmer until pumpkin is very tender, 25 minutes.

Remove the orange zest, thyme and bay leaf. Purée the soup in a blender. Sieve it, discarding any solids. Taste for salt. If desired, thin the soup with milk or cream.

To serve, reheat the soup without allowing it to boil. Garnish with diced apple.

LAMB--SOMETHING SPECIAL FOR MY BIRTHDAY

My birthday is coming up next week. I’ll be dining in, me, family, a friend and a leg of lamb. I love lamb. It’s my favorite meat of all. So, that’s the most special meal I can imagine.

Spain is big sheep country. According to the Foods From Spain web site , Spain has more than 24 million sheep.

Every year a picture appears in the newspapers of flocks of sheep being driven through the Puerta del Sol in the center of Madrid. In times past, when the wool of merino sheep was a source of wealth, the Mesta, a sheep owners’ guild, controlled migratory routes. Vast herds of sheep were moved from northern Spain to southwestern Spain and back again, with the change of seasons, in the trashumancia or transhumance from summer to winter pastures.

With the decline in the wool business, since the 17th century, fewer herds cross the country and most of them are transported by truck or train. In fact, many of the routes have been closed off by fences--or paved over as national highways.

Nowadays, sheep are raised, not for their wool, but for milk (several of Spain’s best-known cheeses, such as Manchego, are made with sheep's milk) and for meat. Lamb from several regions has protected denominations. They are Cordero Manchego, Lechazo de Castilla y León, Ternasco de Aragón, Cordero de Navarra, Cordero de Extremadura and Cordero de Pais Vasco.

The meat is marketed as milk-fed baby lamb, cordero lechal, butchered before 2 months; recental or suckling lamb that has begun to graze, butchered from 2 to 4 months,  and spring lamb, cordero pascual, butchered from 4 to 12 months.

I love baby lamb, split and roasted in a wood-fired oven, in the Castillian manner. I love lamb chops on the parilla, grill, with nothing more than alioli, garlic mayonnaise, to go with them. I love the many lamb stews from every region of Spain.

Birthday present to myself, no need for ribbons. My whole leg of lamb weighs 4 pounds 14 ounces. In the US, a whole leg will be marketed considerably larger, from 6 to 7 pounds.

But, for my birthday leg of lamb, I am roasting it, French style, not Spanish. That is to say, I don’t want a slow braise, I want the meat still pink and juicy. I don’t want gravy or sauce. I want to taste the lamb, herb-inflected.

No recipe is required—just fresh thyme and rosemary, garlic, salt and pepper and, most important of all, an instant-read meat thermometer. That roast comes out of the oven when the meat reaches an internal temperature of 135ºF.

Meanwhile, I have been honing my love for lamb by trying other cuts, such as lamb ribs. Like pork ribs, lamb riblets are really fatty. But, if you love lamb as I do, this is good, as the fat conveys the lamb flavor and makes the meat especially succulent and juicy.

Lamb riblets with garlicky sauce.

Lamb Riblets with Garlic Sauce
Costillitas de Cordero al Ajillo

Spanish style, this dish is accompanied by patatas fritas, fries. However, the ribs are also good with rice or cous cous alongside for soaking up the sauce.

Serves 4.

Racks of ribs, cut into segments.

2 ½ pounds lamb riblets (2-3 racks of ribs)
Salt and freshly ground black pepper
2 tablespoons olive oil
2 peeled cloves of garlic + 6 unpeeled cloves garlic
1 slice bread, crusts removed
1 sprig parsley + more for garnish
½ tablespoon pimentón (paprika, not smoked)
1 tomato, peeled and quartered
1 teaspoon oregano
¼ teaspoon ground cumin
¼ cup wine vinegar
1 cup water

Cut the racks into segments of 2 or 3 ribs. Sprinkle with salt and pepper and allow to rest at room temperature for 30 minutes.

Heat the oil in a deep skillet. Fry the 2 peeled garlic cloves, the bread and sprig of parsley. Remove when garlic and bread are golden.

In the same oil, brown the lamb riblets. With the side of a knife, crush the unpeeled garlics. Add them to the pan with the ribs.

In a blender or food processor, combine the fried garlic, fried bread, fried parsley, pimentón, tomato, oregano, cumin and vinegar. Process to make a smooth paste.

Add the paste to the ribs with the water and ½ teaspoon salt. Cover and simmer until the ribs are fork-tender, 30 to 40 minutes. Serve hot garnished with chopped parsley.

Succulent lamb ribs with garlic sauce.