Maggie's Farm

What's the difference between Bruschetta (pronounced "bresketta") and Crostini? Here's one answer. And don't forget the crouton, which I like made with whole slices, not cubes.

And here's a quote from a piece in The New Statesman on bruschetta, Toast of the Tiber:

"The relationship between bruschetta and "garlic bread" is a peculiar one. In principle, bruschetta is the honest, poor man's original -nothing but charred, oil-soaked bread rubbed with garlic-while "garlic bread" is the embellished pretender. But somehow things have got mixed up. British democracy has confused them. Garlic bread became genuinely democratised, sold in dispiriting packs of two, or even four, for 99p in the brightest freezer cabinets. Meanwhile, the monied torchbearers of democracy - in fact, the elite - went crazy for bruschetta, paying a small fortune for pane covered in broad beans or anchovies at the River Cafe. And so, bizarrely, buttery indigestible garlic bread has come to seem unpretentious "people's food", while bruschetta is the poncy snack of the People's Party. This is an unfortunate state of affairs. Everything that is best about bruschetta -- its power to bestow well-being in one crisp bite -- is betrayed by garlic bread. To begin with, as Marcella Hazan points out: "The most important ingredient in bruschetta is not garlic but olive oil." The garlic on bruschetta is rubbed on, so that you inhale the fresh garlic perfume as a backdrop to the olive oil, rather than eating great lumps of it. The origin of bruschetta was probably the ancient Roman practice of tasting newly pressed olive oil on a piece of bread, with or without garlic -- a practice that has continued in the oil-producing areas of Tuscany, Umbria and Lazio. The name derives from bruscare, meaning "to roast over coals". Alice Waters's version of bruschetta involves frying country bread in large amounts of oil, until thoroughly impregnated, and Elizabeth David recommends baking slices of white bread in the oven."

Thus we learn that American "garlic bread" is not really Italian. The whole piece is interesting, and makes me wonder whether we American garlic-lovers - me, anyway - use our garlic far more heavy-handedly than we should. I will do Bruschetta this way:

Sourdough bread slices lightly fried in oil then garlic-rubbed, chopped fresh tomatoes barely warmed in a little oil with sea salt and maybe a touch of vinegar (plus maybe a little lightly sauteed onion) then fresh basil and parsley sprinkled on top. I think a sloppy Bruschetta is just fine if the oil and tomatoes are excellent, but I think I prefer a little plate of Crostini with a glass of wine.

In Italy we were served Crostini that were simple thin toasted baguette slices (garlic-rubbed with a little salt) with oil and some herbs (including Rosemary), others with a very light smear of pesto or goat cheese, and some others with just a little bit of sauteed shallot. Clearly the oil is the main point - and the wine. The oil has to be the best. Any added flavor should be subtle.

I think I prefer my Crostini lightly salted and fried in olive oil with a bit of garlic without any other flavor added on top. However, that would be properly known as the French "crouton." My family loves these fried slices of Italian bread or baguettes, and will eat them with anything. In fact, the Pupette makes then now, for snacks.

 If you Google "crostini+recipe" you can find a ton of ideas, most of which I think are excessive.

I haven't thought about this old-timey Yankee diner dessert for many years, but someone brought it up the other day, and I am now hungry for one.

As I recall, the last time I had a slice of one was at a diner with my grandfather. Cannot think about the pie without remembering that polo- and poker-playing, shootin', fishin' slacker gramps of mine, who preferred shopping for horses, and dealing in sailboats and Elco yachts (leaving his real business to others) to regular work - and who died way too young of a series of MIs, at 63.

Boston Cream Pie is Yankee-simple, unfashionable, unsophisticated, and darn tasty, and it's a cake, not a pie, with potent if short-lasting anti-depressant properties.

You can make it yourself if you can't find it in stores. Easy to do.

Best Road Burger in the Northeast

I know folks who will drive 40 minutes to the Red Rooster Drive-In on Route 22 in Brewster, NY, when they get a jones for their burgers, fries, and onion rings - all made to order, the old-fashioned way. Slow food. Good hot dogs too. Worth a trip from Great Falls, or Phoenix. 

Is it over-rated? Maybe. I love it, though.

The place is unchanged since the 50s. There is really no seating, but lots of picnic benches outside. Or eat in the pick-up and drip juice and ketchup on your shirt in the manly American-style.

Often it's more fun for me to learn about things after experiencing them, than before. You have a reference point, and something tangible to tack information onto.

Weissbier is one example (aka Weissbrau or Weizenbier or Weizen or Hefeweizen or White Beer or Wheat Beer or Wheat Ale - technically an ale). It's an ancient brew, and there are several styles of it. What we sampled in Bavaria was the Southern German style. Never had a better brew, fresh and unpasteurized. Bready, fruity, and just bitter enough. Low alcohol content, so you can have some more if you're thirsty. It's a summertime beer. Here's the Wiki entry.

Blue Moon's Belgian White and Harpoon's UFO are the closest I've seen to it in a supermarket bottled beer in the US - but it's no match and has more ethanol than the fresh German stuff. Beer is not about booze unless you are in college. These beers are good with an orange slice to squirt into them, although they don't seem to do that routinely in Germany.

Wiki has a pretty good overview of German beers, which begins "Beer in Germany is a major part of German culture." No kidding.

Have no fear, readers. I will never let myself become a beer snob, although my taste buds have already priced me out of the wine market altogether. I am fortunate to have a pub in town which gets fresh draft beers weekly from Germany, but I do not get there often enough because I work.

Photo: Weissbier is typically tasted from tall 0.6 L. slender glasses or tall slender mugs. Sometimes I like beer in a mug, sometimes in a glass, sometimes from ye olde long-neck bottle.

From Coalition of the Swilling:

I like this guy's cooking method. And ditto to him re the ribeye - it's the best cut of a dead cow. Those thick Costco ribeyes are dynamite. Have to be rare, though. If I'm just making one, I do it on a max-heat cast iron pan on the stove, and open the door so the smoke can try to exit. Why bother with the grill for just one fairly small steak?

I like crust on the outside, raw in the middle. You can throw them in the pan frozen, and it's easy to get that result in 20 minutes but you might have to cover it for a few minutes.

Gin for the martini, not vodka - and three olives - not one. After all, that's your vegetable course.

The Mediterranean Bay Laurel (Laurus nobilis), known in Italy as alloro or lauro, is a common flavoring for Mediterranean meats and fish (also used to decorate the heads of victors). It's sometimes called True Bay, True Laurel, or Sweet Bay. Most Italians have one growing near their house, for cooking (and for hedges). It's used mostly fresh, sometimes slightly dried or dried, and is evergreen.

It is not related at all to the California Bay (Umbullularia californica), which is the common supermarket or farmer's market "Bay Leaf" in the US.

The flavor/fragrance profiles are quite different, as these commenters note. In my view, each is good but definitely different. To my American taste, the Med True Bay has a foreign, kerosene-like flavor which takes a little - but not much - getting used to.

Here's how Italians use Laurus nobilis. The excellent Tuscan steaks are always cooked with it, and grilled meats in general.

We wanted our trip to be as much off the beaten path as feasible, and to try to soak up Italy instead of tourist Italy (which I term Disney Italy - been there, done that). After using our delightful tenuta outside Todi as our base for a few days, we headed up over the hills and through the vineyards towards Bevagna in the Valle Umbra because Mrs. BD knew, during her planning, that I wanted some time based in a little old, non-touristy town to walk around in.

On the way there, we stopped by the hilltop walled village Montefalco, where we did the most shopping on our entire trip: She could not resist the famous tessuto artistico - the textiles of Umbria - tablecloths and linens - and I could not resist their heavy Umbrian olive oils and wines. Sagrantino di Montefalco, in particular:

Montefalco is know almost exclusively for its obscure and powerful wine, know as Sagrantino. Sagrantino is a dark bruiting red wine made from the indigenous Sangratino grape that is grown only around Montefalco. For centuries it was produced as a passito, a fortified dessert wine, but today Sagrantino reaches its pinnacle as a earthy and dry table wine.

Well, also known for its Umbrian textiles. She bought a yellow tablecloth with some pattern in it or whatever, taking well over 1/2 hour to do so while I explored around. (It is against my religion to enter clothing stores, shoe stores, or textile shops).

This is a pic of a pic on the wall in one of Montefalco's many vino and olio shops.

 Lots of pics below the fold -

We stumbled by accident into a little ristorante in the dreary (and definitely not touristy) medieval hilltop village of Amelia around 2 pm, and found the place in the otherwise dead town packed with jolly Italians chowing down and drinking wine.  We were the only foreigners there. The Hosteria dei Cansacchi. A simple neighborhood place with a simple menu: you order either the Mare or the Terra. I ordered the Mare, Mrs ordered the Terra, and halfway through lunch we had to "stop the menu." However delicious, it was just too much. That's when we decided we needed to share meals.

Here's their menu - no choices - they just bring it all, one course after another. The English translations in the fine print are imperfect, eg "Wild Board."

Typical Umbrian food:

Preparing Easter feast for after church tomorrow for my in-laws and all the kids we can collect.

Two of my sisters are going to tend to the old folks this weekend while we finally seek some serious home help for them. I think I was in denial about their decline: it is painful to face as they have always had so much adventurousness, vitality, and work-and-study ethic.

Our menu is Butternut Squash Soup with nutmeg with a dollop of sour cream and my special homemade crouton, Arista (bone in, with garlic and rosemary - Arista is pork loin-rib roast, Tuscan-style), roast potatoes, stuffing with apples, apple sauce, roast parsnips, and Brussel Sprouts with garlic and oil. A nice Cote Roti.

For dessert, Wheat Pie, Rice Pie - and a Bunny Cake! With my good Mexican coffee. A multicultural Easter feast.

Next year, I want to make an Italian Easter Pie - Pizza Rustica.

One day last week we drove an hour or two north to Todos Santos. Todos Santos is an artsy oasis village in the desert, with a rare fresh water lagoon a few miles east, just behind the beach. Some Americans and Europeans move there to truly get away from it all for good. Like that retired CIA spook on NCIS.

Our little group had lunch at Posada La Poza, a tiny boutique hotel out in the boonies with a rooftop restaurant. We requested that they make us a mixed seafood platter of whatever they had on hand. They brought us Tuna Tostados, grilled marinated shrimp, fried scallops, and grilled Sea Bass which they cooked rare - as good fresh fish should be cooked. Salad too, with peas and corn in it. Real Mexican food. Margueritas, of course (for the Vitamin C), which they mixed on the strong side:

Here's the outside of Posada La Poza, where they have to turn many people away for lunch despite its remote location. They only have 5 tables for lunch -

Lots of fun pics of that side trip below the fold -

At 6:30 in the morning the Mrs. was down at the gym while I quietly enjoyed the view from our terrace with my idea of a good breakfast: Mexican coffee, a Cuban Romeo y Julieta, and a little tropical fruit, including avocado.

We ate very well in Mexico. These were seafood enchiladas with a creamy wine sauce, a relish of chopped raw vegetables marinated in lime juice, and some fried plantain chips. The green salsa with the brown corn chips was tomatillo, cilantro, onion, and chilis.

Also, the necessary daily Marguerita or two, to ward off scurvy and to prevent dehydration.

(This nice lunch was at the Cilantro Restaurant, next to the Pueblo Bonito Rose resort on the Cabo San Lucas harborside beach. That's not the hotel where we stayed but it's a good one if you like to be around a lot of activity.)

I'll do a few more Mexican food posts this week.

I like to make this for dinner guests:

3 cups fresh blueberries
3 cups fresh raspberries
Cup of strawberries, cut up
3 cups fresh blackberries or boysenberries
peel of a whole lime, cut into strips
peel of a whole lemon, cut into strips
1 cup of fresh mint leaves

In a saucepan, combine 3 c. of water with peels and bring to boil. Remove from heat, add mint leaves and steep for 30 minutes.

Strain, then put liquid back in saucepan with the sugar until boiling and sugar is fully dissolved.

Remove from heat again,  cool or chill until at least room temp, and add about a tablespoon of juice from your lime and the lemon.

Gently mix liquid with the berries and chill in fridge for a few hours.

Best garnish? Sugared mint sprigs (easy to make, and amazingly tasty).

Got any Woodock left in the freezer?

The USA is unusual because wild game meat can not be sold in stores. All "game" meat sold in the US is farm-raised, whether venison, quail, pheasant, duck, or whatever.

That is the correct and righteous legacy of the devastating, 12 month/year market hunting of the past which devastated the seemingly endlessly abundant American wildlife populations.

There is no bird as special for the table as Woodcock, but you have to get out and shoot them yourself. One way to do justice to this diminutive bird (smaller than the European Woodcock) is a ravioli dish I learned from my Cordon Bleu chef friend.

Take a few Woodcock, and cut all of the meat off them - breast, thighs, etc. Chop the meat into roughly 1/2" pieces. Throw in a bowl and mix with a bit of sauteed very finely-chopped shallots and carrots, salt, pepper, a bit of fresh thyme and parsley and a little bit of truffle oil.

Take some wonton squares and brush some whisked egg on the edges as glue. Put a teaspoon or two of the mixture inside, then seal the squares tightly to eliminate any air inside, and place carefully into gently boiling water until done. It only takes a few minutes.

Serve two or three raviolis drizzled with somewhat reduced gibier sauce, with a few shavings of black truffle on top.

Can't be beat.

This is a re-post:

Here's the menu for the sort of 1890's-style dinner our Ducks Unlimited commitee serves annually. Our Chef for this special annual Game Dinner was making Rillete de Lapin since he was a kid in France. Yes, it is generally Black Tie out of respect for the chef and/or the host.

What's the deal? Our Ducks Unlimited Committee sells this dinner for twelve for significant bucks (usually $10-20,000 - and worth every penny) in our charity auction, provides the game, helps the Chef, and serves. When lucky, we're invited to join the dinner table. Otherwise, Chef and his sous chef feed us well in the kitchen, and we help consume the wines.

All the host has to do is to light the fire, and buy the wine and ceegars. With all of the loins and breasts, this is one sexy menu, and mighty filling:

Cocktail hour hors d'oevres:

Game terrine, grainy home-made mustard, gherkin slices, and toast

Rillette de lapin, capers, toast

Pate of Wild Duck Liver with cognac, toast

Dinner:

Roast Country Pigeon with green and white asparagus, mache salad, truffle vinaigrette

Woodcock ravioli with celeriac flan and wild mushroom sauce, with Black Truffle garni

Pheasant breast, braised red cabbage, lardons, with cognac jus

Satueed breast of Redhead or Canvasback with wild rice and roast figs, jus de gibier

Port and juniper berry sorbet with Rosemary garni

Roasted rabbit loin, homemade tagliatelle, basic cream sauce, and crispy shiitake mushrooms

Marinated loin of venison with roasted parsnip and salsify,  fondante potato and huckleberry jus

Dessert

Pear Trio: Pear Almond Tarte, Poached Pear, and Pear William Sorbet

Cheese

Imported cheese board, dried fruits, nuts, assorted homemade breads

The wines to accompany the courses:

De Meric Cuvee Catherine de Medicis Brut Champaigne 1996

Voignier La Place 2004

Chateau Margaux 1991

Barolo Bartolo Mascarello 1970

Chateau D'Yquem 1997

Port, Cognac, and cigars in the library for the gentlemen