Rhubarb Bread Bonanza

Gluten, dairy, nuts: seems that everyone has an allergy these days. My favorite daughter is lactose intolerant, but she seems OK with it. Acceptable substitutions are easier and easier to find.  I am the one mourning her losses. No cheese, no butter, no milk... no cheese? When I come across substitutions that are not only tolerable but tasty, I quickly adapt our old recipes.

For months we eagerly awaited rhubarb season. Now our baskets overflow. Rhubarb is becoming the new giant zucchini left on doorsteps. Rhubarb-Coconut Cream Bread is a great way to use up that last bit of rhubarb rolling around in your bottom bin. Next time I'll double the rhubarb. You wont even miss the butter. For those of us who do indulge in dairy, this bread makes a mean grilled cheese sandwich. Spread with chèvre or brie, and your favorite preserves before toasting.

Rhubarb-Coconut Cream Bread
2 cups flour
1 cup sugar
2 teaspoons baking powder
1/4 teaspoon salt
1 cup coconut cream
1 cup rhubarb, chopped
1 teaspoon cinnamon plus 1 tablespoon sugar

Lightly grease bread pan with nonstick cooking spray (or use butter and flour). Preheat oven to 375 degrees.

Sift together flour, 1 cup sugar, baking powder, and salt in medium mixing bowl. Add cream and rhubarb and mix until smooth. Pour batter into pan.

Combine cinnamon and tablespoon sugar; sprinkle evenly over top of bread.

Bake 40 minutes or until inserted toothpick comes out clean. Cool on rack.

Midsommar Prep

In Minnesota this year we have two weeks of Midsommar celebratory options, which is ironic considering we have yet to experience spring. Perhaps the iffy weather will make the festivities even sweeter. Our celebration begins tomorrow with a trot through the grounds at American Swedish Institute, a dance around the maypole, and indulging in a pastry or two from FIKA. Then our group will come back to our place for a Nordic feast worthy of any Scandinavian. Next weekend we head to events at Svenskarnas Dag (Swedish Heritage Day) and picnic along the Minnehaha Falls.

In preparation, I am quick pickling cucumbers, rolling meatballs, tossing potato salad, nibbling on herring and gravlax (I'm testing the flavors!), and mourning the Most-Expensive-Chocolate-Hazelnut-Cake-Experiment-Fail-Ever (more on that in another post). Nothing says Midsommar (or midsummer if you prefer) like a bowl of fresh strawberries, so this year we are adding strawberries to the beginning of our meal with an appetizer of grilled Strawberry Caprese Pizza, and as tradition demands we will end the meal with thick slices of the best Strawberry Cream Cake I've ever had.

You can read more about Strawberry Caprese Pizza (a.k.a. Kick-in-the-Pants Pizza) at this week's Called to the Table. Then start practicing your dancing style and memorize the lyrics to Små Grodorna. In Sweden frogs say "Kou ack ack ack," and pigs say, "Å nöff nöff nöff."

See you at the maypole! And don't forget the aquavit!

Små Grodorna
Små grodorna, små grodorna är lustiga att se.
Små grodorna, små grodorna är lustiga att se.
Ej öron, ej öron, ej svansar hava de.
Ej öron, ej öron, ej svansar hava de.
Kou ack ack ack, kou ack ack ack,
kou ack ack ack ack kaa.
Kou ack ack ack, kou ack ack ack,
kou ack ack ack ack kaa.

Dads, Grills, Steaks, and Sauce

The first time I saw someone eat a plate of pink prime rib with its quivering fat and bloody puddles, I nearly fainted. My dad was one of those guys who could only eat meat that was burned. I mean, incinerated. He fried his bacon in butter until it was black. He fried his meatballs in butter until they were black. His steak? The same. I grew up thinking that well done was the only way to cook meat. As a result, I hated beef and stuck to seafood, fish, and the occasional pork chop. When I was confronted with a plate of charred beef, I added a pool of my favorite steak sauce, A1.

It took years of food therapy (a.k.a. eating with people other than my father, a humble and generous man but certainly no gourmand) before I tried my first bite of medium rare T-bone. After that I dabbled in the occasional strip, porterhouse, and filet. When I discovered flank steak I thought perhaps that was it.There was no way my meat dining adventures could ever top that. Then my butcher friend introduced me to chuck eye, and the the eating continued.

In the past few years we've climbed upon the grassfed beef bandwagon. Grassfed beef is rich in healthy omega-3s, and we enjoy the flavor. Best, the farms we purchase from have established reputations for treating their animals well. However, grassfed beef is also lean, which means a nice sauce, compound butter, or reduction is usually necessary even alongside a perfectly grilled rare steak (especially when you are grain-challenged, like I am. I am in desperate need of a butchering tutorial. The leaner the meat, the less able I am to distinguish the grain.).

I won't be grilling my dad a steak for Father's Day this year, but in his memory I will whip up my own version of A1 Steak Sauce, but I won't burn the meat. I will think of him as I cut into a nice rare grassfed ribeye.

Steak Sauce
3 tablespoon balsamic vinegar
2 tablespoons cold butter
2 tablespoons maple syrup
2 teaspoons of your favorite unsalted seasoning
1 teaspoon Dijon mustard

In small sauce pan bring vinegar to simmer and reduce until bubbly, about 3 minutes. Whisk in cold butter until melted. Whisk remaining ingredients into the pan. Serve over steak, pork, poultry, or fish.

Makes enough for two good steaks.

Berry Good Vinaigrette

Berries are making their way into the market. Cherries (while not technically a berry) have pushed out the citrus, local strawberries will appear in a few weeks, and of course we always seem to have a bag or two of blueberries in the freezer all year long. When you have a few sad little berries rolling in the bottom of an otherwise empty produce bag, try whisking together a berry vinaigrette. It is great over grilled asparagus, a spinach or fruit salad, and alongside roasted chicken. Berry versatile (food punners unite)!

And if you need one more story about spring mushrooms, head over at MarcusSamuelsson.com for my latest posting on morels and all things fungi.

Berry Vinaigrette
1/4 cup fresh or frozen berries or small fruit*
2 tablespoons Balsamic vinegar
2 tablespoons maple syrup
1 teaspoon Dijon mustard
Olive or grapeseed oil
Salt and pepper

Use food processor or blender to puree berries with vinegar, maple, and mustard. Whisk in enough grapeseed oil (about 1/4 cup) to make an emulsified dressing. Season to taste with salt and pepper.

* Strawberries, pitted cherries, raspberries, blueberries, and blackberries all work well.

Grill Power

When the sun doesn't shine for weeks at a time, when all roads to success are actually dead ends, when the world seems to be falling apart around us, we look for empowerment in familiar places. I turn to the grill. It is often the only area where my success is guaranteed.

Then the clouds burst and dinner is interrupted by endless rain and drizzle. Improvisation becomes necessary.

Enter the grill pan.

A grill pan was on my wish list for years. I wanted a simple cast iron pan, purchased for a few bucks at our local hardware store. Instead, T bought me the pièce de résistance, the Holy Grail of grill pans. He gave me a Staub.   

If you know me you might wonder, as I did, whether a Staub was perhaps a bit too much pan for me. The thought crosses my mind from time to time. Am I responsible enough to care for this beautiful vessel? How durable is it? Will I ruin it with my carelessness?

So far, I haven't been able to destroy the Staub. It has a place of honor on my stovetop (too heavy to hang from the pot rack, too exquisite to hide in a drawer) where I admire it every day and use it several times each week. I've even built a bit of muscle from lifting it.

On these endless rainy stormy cold days, I raise my fist to the sky. "Rain if you must! You won't stop me from grilling! I've got another date with Staub."

Over at Called to the Table is another tale of grilling, this time laced with humility, and a recipe for Beer-Braised Brat-Kebabs.

Minnesota, Maple, and Pizza

Spend enough time in your kitchen and every once in a while you will accidentally stumble upon a new technique or flavor. Usually I use honey to feed the yeast when I am making pizza. But I knew we'd be topping our pies with lots of local ingredients and flavors, including bacon, mushrooms and heady herbs.

On a whim I used maple syrup in the yeast and then switched up the flours to make a healthy crust (spelt and flax replaced nearly half the whole wheat and all-purpose flours). The result was a really flavorful crust with just a hint of maple. T claimed it was the best pizza I've ever made. This is a crust recipe worth keeping.

Minnesota Spring Pizza
4 servings

For the crust:
2 1/4 teaspoons active dry yeast (one package)
1 tablespoon maple syrup
2/3 cup warm water
1/2 cup whole wheat flour
1/3 cup spelt flour
1/3 cup ground flax
1/3 cup white all-purpose flour
1 teaspoon salt
1 tablespoon olive oil

Combine yeast, honey, and water in small bowl and allow yeast to rise, about 5 minutes. Add foamy yeast mixture to flours and salt; knead or process until a soft but grainy dough forms. Roll ball of dough in bowl with olive oil; cover and rise to double (You can make this up to 24 hours in advance).

For the toppings:
Asparagus, blanched
Purple potatoes, sliced thin and blanched
Bacon, chopped and cooked (reserve 2 tablespoons fat)
Oyster mushrooms or any fresh local, chopped and cooked in equal parts bacon fat and olive oil
Fresh herbs: rosemary, safe, basil, chives, ramps, cilantro
Fresh local cheese, shredded: Fontina, Cheddar, Parmesan, Gouda
Olive oil
Salt, pepper, red pepper flakes

Divide dough into 2 to 4 equal pieces. Roll thin and grill over direct heat or bake in 450 degree oven, flipping when grill marks appear on bottom. Remove from heat and top cooked side with cheese, bacon, vegetables, and herbs. Season to taste with salt, pepper, chili flakes, and olive oil. Return to grill or oven, cover grill, and cook until cheese melts.

The Morel of the Story

'Tis the season of morels in Minnesota, a brief but beautiful time of year. The first time I met these guys they were handed to me discretely in a brown paper bag. It felt like a drug deal. "These are really good," the guy told me. "Don't tell anyone I gave them to you." He flashed me what I assumed was a secret morel mushroom smile.

At home in my kitchen I opened the bag and gagged from the smell of dirt. In my early years the lure of the morel was lost on me. I stored the fungi in the refrigerator until I was able to forget their existence, and eventually they were pitched.

My past actions, while horrifying to mushroom aficionados, came from a fear of the wild. Foraging seemed a little too "natural" to a girl who loved all things processed. Even as a kid I so feared the bugs and slugs that lived on my mom's expansive raspberry and strawberry gardens that I refused to eat fresh fruit for two summers. I was the poster child of a Monsanto-philosophy: chemicals good, nature bad.

Fast forward to the adult who swoons at pesticide-free produce. I still mourn the loss of that baggy of mushrooms, tossed so carelessly, so nonchalantly, so coldly. To atone for the sins of my youth, my weekend market tote overflows with every mushroom I can get my hands on. We've had Tom Peterson's wild Italians, oysters from Back Forty Farms, and morels from Heartland.

Although I appreciate the hunters and foragers among us, I am not yet ready to head into the woods to seek my fortune. For now it is enough to embrace sustainability and support those who provide it. Today, when I breath deep into my baggy of morels I will smile the secret morel mushroom smile.

Fried Morels would be a tasty crouton for salad, but my impatience doesn't let me wait long enough to find out. Instead I eat these babies right out of the frying pan. And I don't share.

Fried Morels, Spring Onions, and Sage
Adapted from John Brewer's Crunchy Morels recipe in the Pioneer Press.
For each serving:
6 morel mushrooms, halved or quartered depending on size
1 spring onion with flower
3 sage leaves
Spelt flour
Salt and pepper

2 tablespoons each butter and olive oil

Toss the vegetables and sage in enough spelt flour to coat.

In small saucepan melt butter and add oil to pan. In batches fry vegetables about 3 minutes each side. Drain on paper towel and season with salt and pepper. Fry sage about 30 seconds each side. Drain and season with salt.