Fresh Pasta with Baby Artichokes

Sometime in the past couple of weeks, I started craving artichokes, fresh artichokes. My mouth started watering while I was reading the latest Saveur. It offered twelve different artichoke dishes and before I knew it, I picked up a dozen baby chokes at the market.

While thinking of what dish the cute little artichokes would find their final resting place, I took off on Rt. 2, heading west for a client meeting. I was in luck! My clients' exit was also the exit for Idylwilde Farms. This is where I would find my inspiration.

Subtle hints of the spring welcomed me into the store with colorful flowers lining the entrance way. After doing some quick browsing, my eyes fell upon some fresh pasta in the refrigerator section. "Okay, that will do", I thought. Dinner was done! I grabbed some leeks, creminis, garlic and lemon and headed home.

Prepping artichokes may sound scary and hard, but especially with the smaller ones, it's quite easy. There are actually nine different varieties of artichokes, many holding an aubergine hue on their leaves. I rarely see those around here. Most of what's in the markets are globe artichokes and their babies, which is what I had.

To prep, get some acidulated water ready and then just peel back the leaves until you reach the pale green center. Chop off the top third, trim the stem, and toss them into the water. There! You're done! I simmered the hearts with some black peppercorns and a bay leaf, as well as a bunch of lemons. Because they were so small, par cooking them doesn't take long at all. You're welcome to cook them all the way here, but I wanted to get a nice sear of them for my pasta dish.

Meanwhile, I sauteed the leeks, garlic and mushrooms together and put them aside. Then, after draining the hearts, I quickly sauteed them and added them to the rest of the vegetables.

The fresh pasta took about 1 1/2 minutes to cook and as soon as I pulled it out, I added it to the vegetable mix along with some of the pasta water. Voila! Dinner is served! I small shaving of Parmesan cheese or lemon zest on top is an added level of ecstasy.

Comfort in Cayman

After returning from the sun and heat to the clouds and cold, I have vowed to make some Cayman inspired dishes to help prolong our vacation (at least mentally). Cayman cuisine is seafood: wahoo, turtle, grouper, mahi, local lobster, and of course the trigger fish (we caught that and grilled it for dinner one night). Although probably every menu had rack of lamb and steaks. I never knew where the meat was coming from so I ate seafood each night.

While flipping through some menus that I brought home with me, I saw a vegetarian option that reminded me nothing at all about the islands, but our first night, I wanted comfort. After the long schlep home, with the brief stop in Houston, a lightly grilled fish with a mango sauce wasn't watering my taste buds. So I compromised on the first dish. It was on one of the local menus, but isn't Cayman-esque in nature: Penne with Portabellas, Roasted Tomatoes, and Spinach.

Homemade Soups. Take Five: Cream of Mushroom

We're almost there. The fifth and final soup is upon us. I always make my Cream of Mushroom last. To be honest, it makes a mess out of the bottom of my 30 quart pot and I dread cleaning it at the end of the project. But while I vigorously scrub the darkened roux from the depths of the dish, the back of my shoulders and neck tighten and I know the end is in sight. After days of slicing, chopping, pureeing, cleaning, bottling, and savoring this seasons' soups, I scour and scour until my pot is just as clean as when I started. It is packed away in the basement until next season.

When I first started making these soups, I revelled in the joy of feedback. Ooohhs and aaahhhs warm my heart. And of course, the appreciative comments are still welcome. But sometime, I find the actual process of creating the soups more enjoyable than enjoying them with a salad or sandwich. Isn't that what it's suppose to be about? I mean, it's great that I can make dinner for the long Boston winter months in just one week if I wanted to, but the process of eating a bowl of soup just doesn't compare to the process of making it from scratch. Lord knows, in our home, our dinners are spent in front of the television and in 1o minutes flat, we're done and looking for something sweet. There is no calming, soothing method to that. It's more in building the flavors, changing the textures, and enhancing the final product.

As with many of my other soups in my repetoire, I started sauteing a mirepoix of carrots, onions, celery and also added shallots (about three pounds), two bay leaves and fresh thyme. With this soup, I used unsalted butter instead of oil for my fat of choice. Most cream based soups are based with a roux (an equal combination of fat and flour, used as a thickening agent).

Once the vegetables softened over low-medium heat, I tossed in the flour. I didn't measure, but traditionally it is equal parts by weight). With such a large amount of soup, I could fudge with the consistency later if I needed to. I cooked the roux mix until the flour scent dissappeared, about five minutes. After I tossed in two cases of botton mushrooms and some home-made chicken stock, the soup was brought to a boil and simmered for a few hours. To keep my costs down, I limited myself to buttom mushrooms, which taste delicious in this soup. But to simply raise the sohpistication of the soup, I suggest using portabellos, dired porcinis, creminis, or any combination that you prefer.

About two hours later, I buzzed up the soup with my hand blender, added some fresh parsley, salt, pepper, two quarts of heavy cream and let the soup simmer a little more until the flavors came together. While this soup did do the most damage to my pot, it's rather simple to make. It just takes patience and time.

To serve it, a delicate drizzle of truffle oil will send this over the top. Add that with a quick saute of some fresh mushrooms with garlic and you're set for the night. Taking a spoonful is like slithering into a steaming hot bubble bath. I promise.