gourmet, unbound

Silky Leeks with Lemon, Thyme, and Burrata

When I set about making this recipe, I didn't expect to be seduced. I wanted something simple and vegetable-based for dinner, but I didn't think it would be sexy.

I underestimated this recipe. These leeks are luscious, braised just a few minutes in good homemade stock (and, of course, a little butter.) A sprinkle of fresh thyme and lemon zest, coarsely ground pepper, and sea salt bring the flavors forward.

Of course, this could work as a side dish under baked chicken thighs or a chunk of artic char, but on a weeknight during this already-busy month, a gooey spoonful of burrata cheese and a drizzle of olive oil is just the ticket. It's a creamy, silky, heavenly dinner with a chunk of baguette and a glass of white wine.

Depending on how tender you like your leeks, you might want to leave these braising away a little longer than instructed in the recipe—after you've cooked them uncovered as instructed, cover and braise them for 8 minutes or so, checking to see if they've softened to your liking. Even if it takes ten or twelve, it's a ridiculously easy dish.

The original recipe is here. Be sure to add leaves from a few sprigs of fresh thyme, and top with a scoop of burrata and a drizzle of olive oil.

Mushroom & Farro Pie

It’s taken me a year to make this pie. A year, people. That’s twelve months of shuffling it around my to-make list as it kept getting bumped down. And you know what? I am ashamed because I’ve wasted twelve whole months not eating this pie. Just imagine the places I could’ve gone and things I could’ve done if only I had made this when I spotted the recipe in the November, 2008 issue of Gourmet.

Sadly, time is irreversible and the months I spent not eating this pie cannot be brought back. But what can be done is I can tell you about it and implore you to not make the same grave error I made. Because part of what I do here is help you avoid the mistakes that I make with disturbing regularity (like intending to make a recipe, only to find myself many months later with the task still unaccomplished!) It's rather embarrassing because I must come across as truly disorganized. But I've a good reason for being so tardy. You see, I have this thing I lovingly refer to as a job, but it’s more like a career, really, because who else makes crazy midnight calls to Asia and enjoys it? That’s right, midnight. And somehow, and don’t ask me how, I can’t seem to bring myself to write coherent,interesting prose at 1 o’clock in the morning. I know, I’m a total wuss.

But I'm getting around to posting about this pie finally, though I'm a bit sad that the magazine from which this recipe came, no longer exists. The idea of not getting Gourmet in the mail next month full of holiday cookies, makes me really sad. Not just because a great magazine is no more, but because how the whole thing went down. It felt rather unceremonious and lacked something human and sympathetic. And at the risk of being too bold and making a statement that will, indeed, create some enemies and friction, I am surprised that a business like Gourmet, with history and meaning to its customers (and it’s rare that such a strong emotional connection is forged), was allowed to deteriorate to a point where no one could save it (which I also find hard to believe). Something should’ve been done earlier to save the brand and its writers and continue the legacy.

Alas, what’s done is done and you cannot turn back the clock (much like my latency in making this pie), but what you and I can do is continue the Gourmet legacy as we know it. This pie is an example of it – a perfect side to your Thanksgiving table, one that will agree with vegetarians and meat lovers alike.

I couldn’t help but tweak the recipe a bit because I felt that caramelized onions, mushrooms and ricotta together were pretty much and unbeatable combo. I skipped the garlic, because I’m very weird about mushrooms and garlic together (it must be a childhood thing) and I omitted Madeira but added a touch of the red wine I was drinking while cooking. The smell of this while cooking is truly magnificent,and that first bite of the flaky dough combined with mushrooms, barley and ricotta - will truly astound you. I guarantee you'll want to make this again and again and again. And perhaps the magnificence of the Gourmet legacy is that we're left with not just recipes to play with,but keep for years and pass onto other generations to treasure and enjoy.

Mushroom and Farro Pie

Adapted from Gourmet, November 2008

Ingredients:

3/4 cup farro or pearl barley (see cooks’ note, below)
3 cups water
1 tablespoon unsalted butter
1 tablespoon olive oil
1  medium onions sliced thinly
1 lb cremini mushrooms, sliced
1 cup whole-milk ricotta (you can and should easily make your own; recipe here)
1 (1-lb) package frozen all-butter puff pastry, thawed

1 egg yolk, beaten with 1 tsp water and a pinch of salt

Recipe directions here.

Golden Onion Pie

 

I'm sure I wasn't the only one eagerly awaiting the November issue of Gourmet. Normally it's because we're all looking for ideas to start planning our Thanksgiving menus, but this issue is different and we all know why. Rather than focus on the sadness of it, I'd like to offer another option: let's give thanks for all the inspiration and legion of cooks it has created. Let's celebrate a return to home cooking, whether it's a weeknight dinner or elaborate holiday gathering.

And on that note, I'd like to unveil my first recipe from the pages of Gourmet for our new project. I toyed with the idea of going into the archives and making a Thanksgiving past recipe. Then I came across this one for Golden Onion Pie in this very last issue. I was struck by the simplicity of the main ingredient, and equally intrigued by the taste, because, frankly, anything that includes bacon and butter is good in my book.

Forever the artist in the kitchen, I find it difficult to just make a recipe as is, and so was the case with this one too. While I stayed pretty true to the filling—all warm, smoky, and gooey, I cast aside the bread-like dough and encased it in a buttery tart-like pastry. The main reason was I didn't feel like waiting two hours for the dough to rise, but after the first bite, it was also clear the rich, flaky crust was a perfect match.

And without further adieu, here's my version of the recipe. I enjoyed it with mixed greens dressed in a sherry vinaigrette and an icy cold Smuttynose Pumpkin Ale.

 

Golden Onion Pie

Makes one 9-inch pie

For the crust:

1 1/2 cups flour

3/4 teaspoon salt

2 tablespoons sugar

6 ounces cold butter, cut into pieces

3 tablespoons ice cold water

For the filling:

adapted from Gourmet Magazine November 2009

3 1/2 pounds onions, sliced thins

4 ounces thick-cut, smoked bacon

4 tablespoons butter, cut into pieces

Salt and freshly ground pepper, to taste

1/2 cup sour cream

2 large egg yolks

Add onions, bacon and butter to a deep skillet. Cook, covered, over medium-high heat, until onions are softened, about 20 minutes. Remove cover, and cook 20 to 30 more minutes, stirring occasionally, until onions are cooked down and very tender. Let cool.

Preheat oven to 400ºF.

Meanwhile, to make the pastry dough, add the flour, salt and sugar to a deep bowl; whisk to combine. Scatter the butter pieces over flour mixture and use a pastry blender, two butter knives or your fingers to cut in the butter (this can alternately be done in a food processor). Sprinkle the cold water over the butter-flour mixture and stir with a fork until the dough forms a rough ball. Let rest in the refrigerator for 5 minutes. On a lightly floured surface, roll the dough out into a 14-inch circle. Gently fit into a 9-inch deep dish pie plate.

Stir the egg yolks and sour cream into the cooled onion mixture. Spoon into dish with pie crust. Fold sides up and over, leaving some filling exposed in the center. Bake for 60 to 70 minutes, until crust is golden and filling is bubbling. Let cool 10 minutes before serving.

test kitchen notes: I was convinced this filling would never set since it's extremely runny from all the water released by the onions. When I removed it from the oven, it was bubbling with juices and I was still unsure how it would slice. I was pleasantly surprised after the pie sat for about 10 minutes as I prepped the salad. Sure enough it sliced up fine, the filling retaining its velvety texture without falling apart!

Get the original recipe as printed in Gourmet's November 2009 issue here.