Shrimp Ravioli in Tomato Veloute Sauce

You know my frequent, hand-wringing column, "Foodie Dreams, Kitchen Nightmares"? You know, those moments when I have a hankering for something delicious, visualize it in my mind, can almost taste the blend of flavors, and then just completely crash and burn in the execution? As terrible as those moments are--the blackened pots and pans, the empty stomach, roommates curiously wondering what insanity has posessed me--when the opposite happens, when I create something beautiful and delicious and fantastic, it can be simply bliss.

Witness my dinner last night: a sweet, creamy tomato sauce enveloping fresh-made ravioli stuffed with sauteed shrimp and ricotta. Granted, it wasn't perfect--my sauce was lumpy, my ravioli sprung a leak--but in taste and execution I was remarkably pleased. Although the dish was an adaptation of something I had in a restaurant (Basso56's lobster crepes in a tomato-chive veloute), without a recipe and only a dim idea of what I'd need I came up with something quite delicious and rather simple (took about an hour in total to make).

Let me walk you through the process.

Like I said before, I was blown away by the rich flavor of my dinner at Basso several weeks ago and dreamed about recreating it (the restaurant itself being too fancy and far away for a mid-week pop-in). Luckily, since it has a menu online, I could see the basic ingredients and structure. This was helpful, but brought up a few problems: 1) where could I buy lobster?, 2) how do I make crepes?, and 3) what the f is "veloute sauce"?

My little neighborhood does not stock lobster, for whatever reason, so I skipped that ingredient and went instead for shrimp, which I tend to swap in for lobster in various recipes. I've been wanting to make crepes for ages, but without a reason--or 15 people to help me eat the leftovers--the dream has mostly died. Instead of crepes I decided to go with ravioli, since I could easily get wonton wrappers and got the added bonus of stuffing myself with ricotta and parmesan (I bought 4 different kinds of cheeses yesterday... it was nuts...).

Finally I confronted the riddle of veloute sauce. A Google search told me it was defined as one of the four "mother sauces" by chef Antonin Careme in the 19th century (which, hello, told me nothing). A little more research and I discovered that despite the French (Dave was like "What are you making?!"), veloute sauce is quite simple, being mostly flour, butter, and light stock (such as chicken, veal, or fish). I knew I wanted tomato veloute (also called Aurora sauce, which really sounds quite lovely), so I also picked up some plain canned tomato sauce and, just in case, a 1/2 pint of cream.

With a little help from the Reluctant Gourmet, I prepared the veloute sauce by browning the butter and flour and slowly adding the chicken stock (I am not ballers enough to make my own stock, although I want to try. Sigh. Someday...). It got lumpy, which was a problem, and the next time I think I would strain before adding the tomato sauce. Pour in a little sauce, taste, pour in a little more, taste, and finally I figured that since cream makes everything better, it probably couldn't hurt to add a little of that, either. The result was astounding: almost sweet in its smoothness, it was creamy and flavorful, and thick without being heavy. I looooved this sauce and would happily drown every meal in it, but paired with my ravioli, it was truly sublime.

Because I wanted a clean feel to the shrimp, I just sauteed them in a little butter without any seasoning (a white wine reduction also could have worked well). As soon as they were pink, I removed them from the pan and cut them into tiny pieces. Mixed with a little ricotta, parmesan, pepper, and nutmeg, the ravioi filling was meaty and spicy and cheesy in all the right measures (also, can I get a what what for ricotta? I love this stuff, and love how a simple spoonful is so magically cool and light). I wrapped everything in jumbo wonton wrappers, dropped it in boiling water, removed, and enjoyed. It was just so so so good. A Kitchen Dream, for sure.

This recipe makes 3-4 jumbo ravioli, enough for one big or two smallish servings.

SHRIMP RAVIOLI IN VELOUTE SAUCE
INGREDIENTS:
1 dozen medium-sized shrimp
1 cup ricotta
1 tablespoon grated parmesan
2 teaspoons pepper
2 teaspoons nutmeg
6-8 large wonton or eggroll wrappers
4 tablespoons melted butter
3 tablespoons flour
1 1/2 cup light stock (chicken, veal, or fish)
1 cup tomato sauce (unseasoned)
2 tablespoons cream
salt and pepper to taste

DIRECTIONS:
In a medium saucepan, set the stock to simmer
In a larger saucepan, simmer 2 tablespoons melted butter over medium heat, taking care not to burn it
Add 3 tablespoons flour and lower heat
Mix butter and flour until well toasted
Slowly add light stock and stir well
Simmer for 10-15 minutes (a skin may appear on the sauce. Either skim off or mix in)
Add 1 cup tomato sauce and stir well
Add 2 tablespoons cream and stir well
Let sauce simmer, covered, over very low heat
Peel and devein shrimp and sautee in remaining butter over medium-low heat
When pink, remove from heat and chop finely
Set a large pot of water to boil
Add ricotta, pepper, and nutmeg to shrimp, stirring well
Wet one side of a single wonton wrapper and lay on top of another
Place a spoonful of the shrimp-ricotta mixture in the center.
Using a brush or your finger, wet down the edges of the wrapper and fold over both wrappers (so you have an extra-thick ravioli)
Crimp the folded edges with a fork
Drop ravioli in boiling water and cook for 2-3 minutes
Repeat until mixture is finished, pour sauce over ravioli, and top with grated parmesan

Read more!

Happy Moanday: Busy Busy!

Well I have been scrimping on the posts, thanks to the summer uptick of work dropping onto my little lap, and sleep/food/rest deprivation has been putting a damper on updating the blog. And this week is no exception! With the holiday this weekend and people out on vacation, I've been takin' care of business, but I'm tired.

Part of that is from the cah-razy weekend I just had, where Dave and I ping-ponged between New York and New Jersey and back again. We visited my company picnic, gourging ourselves on free food and drinks (it was fun! We shot arrows and Dave beat someone in foosball and practiced surfing). I tried something quite delicious: Jamaican coco bread. It was so lovely, like eating a warm pillow made out of bread, and I think I'm going to try to replicate this week.

We (I) also went to a baby shower, thrown by Dave's sister-in-law's family. They are Italians and know how to cook and so I parked myself by the appetizers and didn't look back. Eventually, stuffed with delicious food and cake (luckily Jenna didn't go with a baby-shaped cake), we headed to Steve's house to watch soccer (the less said, the better). I fell asleep immediately and stayed that way until an unhappy Dave dragged me to the car and home. I got home so sleepy, warm, and lazy that I skipped dinner for a bowl of sherbet, turned on my fan, and fell asleep.

And now? I am ex-haus-ted, but still have to feed myself! It's a short week this week, and Dave will be coming to see me Wednesday, so I might do something light today and tomorrow, then something nice and hearty Wednesday night. Coco bread is a strong possibility (maybe with some soup?), and I've been hankering for some homemade ravioli for a couple weeks now. And, of course, it's the Fourth of July this weekend! Bring on the rocket ice pops, red-white-and-blue pie, and potato salad. I'll be at the shore with Dave's family, trying to avoid a sunburn and not be so completely stuffed with delicious food that I can't roll over (not like that's happened before...).

Plus, the sun is out! Hooray! Read more!

The Incompetent Chef: Sweet Potato Duel

DING DING!! DING DING!!! LAAAAADIES and GENtlemen! Welcome to the main event! The rumble you've aaaaall been waiting for!

In this corner.... the challenger, standing 5'3", 1 year of cooking experience and not a single grease fire.... Kendall "the Krusher"!!!!


Aaaand in this corner.... the undefeated champion, standing 4", a member of the convolvulacaeae family.... sweet "not so sweet" potato!!!



Yes folks, I am getting back on that sweet orange horse and trying my hand, once again, at sweet potato fries (those of you new to my long travails trying to make these can get caught up here). This recipe is courtesy Divya of Dil Se, which I'm trying out (aside from the fact that it is awesome) as a part of the Taste and Create blogger series, wherein bloggers share and blog about other people's recipes (Divya made my soft pretzels). To capture every exciting moment, I live blogged! Let's get in on the action, shall we?

6:40 - oven turns on, but I'm not sweating
6:43 - how are you supposed to know when the sweet potato is clean?
6:45 - this peeler is so unappealing (hahahahahaha)
6:48 - this is where I always get confused: how thick the fries? 3/4 inches? ooooh I am nervous
6:50 - sweet potatoes cut, my abs not so much
6:54 - interrupted shortly when my roommate came home, bringing me a copy of Lizzie's new book! sweet potatoes lie unnoticed
6:59 - in oven! moment of truth...
7:03 - mmmm goat cheese....
7:08 - is that smoke I smell? already?
7:13 - smoke smell getting stronger...
7:20 - time to flip!
7:22 - they don't look too terrible! Of course, they still have another 15-20 minutes to cook.
7:35 - ok. Phew. Taking them out of the oven...
7:40 - looking good, looking good... First taste... Ooh! Delicious! Hooray!
7:41 - roommate gives thumbs up. I feel vindicated. I have tamed the orange beast.





WINNER! THHHHE KRRRRRUSHERRR!
Read more!

Chicken's Got the White Stuff

Since summer is the indisputable time of the barbecue and since I don't have a barbecue and since Dave and his roommates were throwing a barbecue party, I leaped at the chance to try out one of my many filed-away recipes. While Dave was up to his wrists in hamburger meat (I think he put rosemary in there--it was so so good) and Kevin charred up some hot dogs and Rita deep-fried wings, I prepped a very delicious white sauce chicken recipe I found on The New York Times.

The recipe, from a Bitten column, was a two-parter: a brine in which to soak the chicken before grilling, and a white sauce for covering and dipping the chicken after grilling. Brining poultry is all the rage around Thanksgiving, but I am not such a foodie to take over a meal like that for my family, so I let my curiosity fall by the wayside until this past weekend. I always liked the idea of brining, which helps meat retain moisture and tenderness as it's grilled (what's the difference between marinating and brining? nooo idea, but one definitely sounds cooler). This recipe called for a brine soak for an hour, not a problem as it gave me full run of the kitchen before anyone else.

I prepped the sauce at that time too, and it was incredibly simple and cheap to make (everything all together, all the ingredients + 8 breasts of chicken, was about $25). With the chicken soaking and the sauce cooling in the fridge, my role was mostly done. An hour later, I popped out to the grill, had Dave toss everything on, and then sat back. After everything had cooked, it got cut in half, soaked in sauce, and set out for hungry people to devour.

And devour they did! I was really quite pleased with the final result. The chicken was incredibly succulent and tender, and even the leftover chicken several hours old had a sweet moistness that tasted fresh off the grill. The sauce really added the magic, though. Big Bob Gibson Bar-B-Q white Sauce, it was peppery without being overpowering, smooth without being thick and creamy. It didn't quite coat the chicken and usually left you with a puddle of sauce on your plate, the better the excuse to go back for more. I also ended up dipping my burger in the sauce and the taste was truly cinematic--fiery and tangy mixing beautifully with the robust deep flavor of the hamburger.

I was pleased with the end result and the speed with which people returned to the chicken plate and kept hearing people ask "Oooh, this is so good--what's on it?" I was crowing over my fine culinary skills when someone tapped me on the shoulder and asked what was in the sauce.

"It's a mystery!" I said, smiling.

"Didn't you just say it was a New York Times recipe, from Bitten?"

"Um... It's a mystery!" I chirped.

He did not look impressed, and I thought maybe he had a food allergy (right?) and so explained what was it was made from. Mystery destroyed, still delicious.


APPLE CHICKEN BRINE
INGREDIENTS:
1 cup apple juice
1 cup water
1 tablespoon salt
1/4 tablespoon garlic powder
1 tablespoon honey
1/2 tablespoon dark brown sugar
1/2 tablespoon soy sauce
1/2 tablespoon fresh lemon juice
8 boneless skinless chicken breasts

DIRECTIONS:
In a medium bowl, combine the brine ingredients and mix well.
Add the chicken breasts, making sure they are completely covered.
Cover the bowl and refrigerate for 1 hour.
Remove the chicken breasts from the brine and wipe off the excess salt.
Preheat an outdoor grill to 400 degrees.
Place the chicken breasts on the grate directly over the heat and grill for 5 to 6 minutes on each side, or until golden brown and firm to the touch.
The internal temperature of the chicken breasts should be 160 degrees.
Submerge each chicken breast into a bowl of Big Bob Gibson Bar-B-Q White Sauce.
Remove from the sauce and serve.


BIG BOB GIBSON BAR-B-Q WHITE SAUCE
INGREDIENTS:
2 cups mayonnaise
1 cup distilled white vinegar
1/2 cup apple juice
2 teaspoons prepared horseradish
2 teaspoons ground black pepper
2 teaspoons fresh lemon juice
1 teaspoon salt
1/2 teaspoon cayenne pepper

DIRECTIONS:
In a large bowl, combine all the ingredients and blend well.
Store refrigerated in an airtight container for up to 2 weeks.

The picture is from Bitten, as people ate mine so fast I couldn't take any pictures! It did look remarkably similar, though
Read more!

Happy Moanday: Rain, Rain Go Away

Are you there, sun? It's me, Kendall. I know it's been a long time since we've hung out, what with my early work hours and all, but please don't take it personally. Where you been at? Maybe let's hang some time and grab a sno-cone?

So it has been raining continuously and New York and everything in it has finally floated off into the sea, woohoo. My hair is in a constant state of "frizz" and my Google calendar weather outlook is a steady block of "rainy, cloudy, cold." Hello summer?

I spent the weekend in Boston again, saying a final farewell to Cambridge and all my favorite places and people. I had my last meal at Border, where I almost cried I was so happy. Oh! The piping-hot nachos, the sweet bite of the margarita, the tender pastelitos, the smooth and subtle chimichurri steak... I savored each and every bite, knowing it would be maybe months (!!!) until I could try it again.

Dave and I managed to get to Walden Pond for a--very fast, very cold--swim before we headed to his house for a very wonderful barbecue. His roomies bought a big, beautiful, grown-up grill which they christened with a healthy mix of burgers, hot dogs, and chicken. I tried a quite fantastic chicken recipe--to be revealed tomorrow--and made my funnel cake, to great acclaim. People ate and chatted and drank beers and chatted and eventually we all ended up in the living room, playing Guitar Hero in between shots of tequila (which really does a number on dexterity!). The best part was that the party started about 5pm, meaning we were all conked out at the (in my opinion) reasonable hour of 11:30.

The next day we lolled around the house, got breakfast at Hi Rise, and then walked down to the square for my train. I had a final goodbye cupcake from Sweet (dark chocolate, vanilla bean buttercream, oh heaven), and then hopped off to South Station for my last-ever bus ride home to New York (one thing I'm not going to miss).

All in all it was a lovely weekend, to be followed up by a busy week and then another, busier weekend!

On Saturday my company is having its giant corporate picnic, by which time hopefully New York will have lost its unfortunate resemblance to Atlantis. If Dave and I emerge from our likely food coma (we have yet to learn to pace ourselves at that thing), we'll be going down to his parents' house for a baby shower (me) and car pickup (him).

This means I'm staying in New York and can I get a good dinner! (what what!) It has been ages since I've properly cooked something, as empty Mac n Cheese boxes litter my kitchen. My stomach is in "woah girl" mood, meaning I want something warm and comforting (a Toniatti-sauce + meatball sub sounds about right) but it's also nearing 100% humidity, meaning I want something cool and light (chilled shrimp in a light butter sauce?). I may try to recreate a quite fantastic meal that I had a few weeks ago, which consisted of a lobster-filled crepe in a creamy tomato sauce, or I may get home and, exhausted, fall back on a bowl of chili (not literally).

I've also been paired up with Divya, of the very lovely Dil-Se, for this month's Taste-and-Create event, wherein bloggers make recipes from each other's blogs and then post about it. I love Divya's blog--which leans slightly towards authentic Indian recipes--and was having a hard time deciding what to make until I saw her post on sweet potato fries. Oh yes. Them again. Maybe third (fourth, eighth...) time's the charm?

So, maybe crepes, maybe shrimp, maybe chili, and definitely sweet potato fries; Dave on the weekend, baby shower, company party, and sunshine?
Read more!

Spotlight On: Fine Lines

Those of you who are roughly between the ages of 20-30 and female and were the type of lonely child who dreamed about life on the frontier or tundra or shipwrecked beach more than whatever inane boy band on the cover of Bop!, those of you out there would be glad to learn about the healthy mix of nostalgia and faux-paintings of sad/exasperated/lovestruck teenagers that is "Fine Lines," Jezebel's back-from-hiatus column devoted to all things Young Adult.*

Written by Jezebel contributor Lizzie Skurnick (also, "Lizzie Skurnick"? Most adorable name ever. Whenever I read the column I imagine a smiley 80's style 12-year-old with big crimped hair, crushed neon socks in high tops, and a thousand bracelets), the column focuses on a different YA book a week (past selections include: The Cat Ate My Gymsuit, Jacob Have I Loved, and Homecoming). Lizzie breaks it down for the readers, usually in the kind of breathless excitement reserved for such things that you are unabashedly passionate about. And, between plot summaries and thoughtful character musings, Lizzie helpfully points out the details that make a book leap off the page and stick in your mind (stomach?).

Some might argue books like the Little House series and Julie of the Wolves would have been insti-classics regardless of the lavish descriptions of mud-packing and igloo-making, to which I say it is precisely this level of detail that, for me, tattoos these books on my heart. If you don't get hungry reading how Miyax, aka Julie, a 13-year-old who has run away on the Alaskan tundra, makes owlet stew, as "she sliced her birds into delicate strips and simmered them slowly and not too long. ... Then she drank the rich juices and popped the tender meat in her mouth," well, I just don't even want to know what kind of person that makes you.

These are the kind of books that make me imagine, seriously, where I can get a pig's tail and how to get it on a stick and roast it slowly while fighting over it with my (older, prettier--oh jealousy!) sister, a la Little House in the Big Woods. While in school we focused on plot development (the rise, the climax, the falling action), truly these were the things that made the books seem real to me (and is it any surprise that there is a whole collection of Little House-inspired cookbooks? I would do anything for one of Ma's homecooked Johnny Cakes on a cold winter morning).

Without getting too B.A. in Literature on you (finally found a use for it!), the food scenes often comprised pivotal moments in the characters' lives:
--Miyax uses the traditional Eskimo skills her father taught her to find and prepare food on the tundra, skills that, she later finds out, he has come to reject by the end of the book
--Sarah (of A Little Princess), reduced to poverty and hunger, uses the money she finds on the street to buy beautiful, sugary hot-cross buns and chooses instead to give them to a starving girl, thus learning an important lesson in charity, selflessness, and survival
--And Mary's (The Secret Garden) development as a person is handily charted by the growth of an appetite and her ability to appreciate healthy hunger and good, rich British porridge

I've listed the most foodie Fine Lines columns below, but they're all worth a read. And! If you do like them, Lizzie is currently penning a book based on the column, and you can sign up on a list to be alerted when the book is available. Until then, check out the column, set your tastebuds to "salivate" and lose yourself in the gluttonous magic of literature.

A Little Princess: Reversal of Four Buns
Julie of the Wolves: The Call of the Wild
The Secret Garden: Still No Idea What A Missel Thrush Is
Little House in the Big Woods: "I Play With A Pig Bladder Like It's A Balloon"


*At the risk of fueling gender stereotypes, I presume my male readers' knowledge of such golden stuff is woefully inadequate. It's not too late! I encourage you to raid your sisters' reading shelves, as the lessons gleamed from such strong women as Harriet the Spy and Dicey Tillerman would make anyone a better person.
Read more!

Happy Moanday: Buh-Bye Boston

Well, it's finally come to this: after four years of living in Boston and 1 year of vicarious living in Boston (and at least 18 round trips on the bus), Dave and I will spend our last weekend in Boston together with at least one of us qualifying as a resident. I'm sure I'll return to see big brother and friends, and I will always carry the small hope that I'll return to Cambridge one day (maybe to live in a cute little 200-year-old house with a little fence and pretty roses in front and a dog! maybe?). Still, it's a little bumming (good-bye Border, Herrell's, Charles River picnics, Walden Pond bike rides, sunbathing on the quad, and ooohing and aaahing over cute Cambridge houses), so Dave and I have been steadily working through our favorite Boston things.

Last weekend we did something few Bostonians would ever admit to: we took a Duck Tour. The Duck Tours are usually supremely ridiculed for blocking traffic and annoying pedestrians by shouting things at them (Dave once got heckled for trying to parallel park a suburban on a narrow, 300-year-old street. Sadly, he had a New Jersey license plate, which might as well have been a target). But, I thought they might be fun and they got good reviews at Yelp, so we meandered over to the Science Museum and bought some tickets. We were unfortunately saddled with one of the very few tour guides who decided to give a rudimentary history of Boston (by contrast, the next tour was headed by a 6'3" man in a leopard-print Viking costume). 80 minutes later we were bored, tired, and filled with more contempt for the Duck Tours.

After that we stopped by the Gay Pride Parade with Rita, Kevin, and Eileen where we feasted on funnel cake (nowhere near as good as mine) and crowd-watched (crowd-watching at a Gay Pride Parade is really quite wonderful). From there it was only a short walk to the New England Aquarium. We got there in time for the penguin feeding and the turtle/shark feeding (turtles and sharks, not turtles to sharks). Then we had a romantic dinner at the Daily Catch (in true Daily Catch fashion we were wedged between two other couples). We both had their famous black pasta which we both inhaled like it was sweet, sweet oxygen. We headed back to the square for a movie, stopping at Herrell's for some ice cream on the way (burnt sugar and butter with hot fudge, Oreos, and whipped cream).

The next day was mostly culinarily-uninspired, except that we finally, finally(!), dropped by Sweet, the new cupcake shop in the square. I got one of their red velvet cupcakes, which was just be-yond delicious and so, so beautiful. The red was like the brightest, boldest red I'd ever seen in a cupcake (most red velvets are darker and/or slightly brownish). I wonder how they got it so blindingly red. Maybe they added coloring to a white cake, rather than a yellow cake... In any case, I wish I'd had my camera to take a picture (brand new lovely camera was, unfortunately, left behind at Governor's Island. Sigh.), although it's doubtful I would have put off eating it long enough for a picture.

Our last weekend is pretty much unscheduled, except for a trip to Walden Pond and maybe a visit to Top of the Hub for dessert one night. It will be sad to say good-bye to Boston and all the wonderful adventures (and wonderful meals) we've had there. Still, as Dave likes to say, we'll soon be lucky enough to meet another big, beautiful city: Chicago!

All that is to say: I have no idea what I'll be cooking this week! Steaks, maybe, or crepes, or possibly some soup. (or Boston Baked Beans? Boston Creme Pie? New England Clam Chowda?) Read more!