A fondue and stew

There is something about the common dipping into one bowl that is so primordial and elemental. When a party calls for a first course that is eaten standing around the kitchen while the cook tends to the main course, there is nothing better than fondue! I received a little "valentine" in the mail the other day from my dad-- a little 2-and-a-half quart bright orange Le Creuset cast iron pot (what a great dad!). As I don't own a fondue pot anymore, this would be the perfect substitue.

I used a recipe for "Classic Fondue" that I saw recently in the NYTimes. There has been a resurgence of fondue parties according to the food press lately. Food and Wine did a spread on a New Year's Eve party in Aspen (Richard Betts of Betts and Scholl's Wine) and that sparked my interest in gathering friends around the pot of cheese on a winter evening. Fondue is astonishingly easy to make. Daniel prepped the cheese (mostly gruyere but with scraps of leftover cheese from our fridge thrown in) while I did other things.

Then, just as our guests arrived, I started simmering a cup of white wine (a Tocai from Friuli) in my new pot on the stove. I had rubbed the pot with a garlic clove cut in half. As soon as the wine was simmering, I threw in the cheese, combined with a tablesp. of cornstarch, a handful at a time while stirring the creamy white cheese until it bubbled lightly and all was incorporated. Yum!!! I had cut up some raw veggies earlier in the day: radishes, fennel sticks, carrots and cauliflower, threw in some apple and pear slices, and some squares of crusty bread, and voilà! Everybody loved it and the pot was wiped clean before I could get the camera out to take a photo!

Our main course was Tuscan Bean Stew made with imported dried cannellini beans that I had brined overnight - almost 24 hours. I had read in Cook's Illustrated about cooking the stew in the oven on a low temp. instead of on the stovetop in order to acheive a perfectly cooked, intact bean, instead of the mushy or broken beans that can result when the soup cooks over a flame too high or for too long. This method proved to be exactly right. What a revelation!

The soup starts with oil and pancetta, then the carrots, celery and onion and is cooked on medium until the aromatics are browned and softened, then add the rinsed beans, the stock and some water, a bay leaf and cover the pot before going into the 250 degree oven. After about an hour, I added the kale and one can of diced tomatoes and back in the oven for another 45 min. This was the first time I had ever made a soup in which each element's integrity, shape and flavor remained separate and the consistency was like a melding of different elements, each with its own character to contribute. It was *not* a mushy or blended soup at all, but hearty and flavorful and so satisfying. I served each bowl with a long slice of toasted Tuscan bread rubbed with garlic.

And, for dessert: my first try at meringue cookies. How fun and gratifying to beat egg whites, sugar, vanilla and corn starch and to end up with these angelic little sweet puffs of air! I made half of them white, and the other half with bits of semi-sweet chocolate. I liked the classic ones best but they both received rave reviews. I served them with little glasses of homemade vin santo that I had brought home from a friend's farm in Italy last time I was there. A perfect combination.

It was really nice to serve a dinner that was simple to make, easy to serve, but that looked rather impressive. Our friends, the Forsythes (Daniel's boss, his wife and daughter) are food people - great cooks and very knowledgeable about food-- and I believe they were happy and pleasantly surprised. I went to bed with a big smile on my face...

Baking

I bake a lot. It makes me feel productive, creative and calm. I love the feel of the dough on my hands, but mostly I use the mixer unless I'm making bread. I make focaccia bread and brioche everyday at work. But at home I make more simple things. I recently made an old family recipe called "potica."

It originated in Eastern Europe but my mom's Italian family used to make it every Christmas. My Aunt Kate would bring it from Colorado with her when she and my uncle came out to visit us, their car weighted down with food they made themselves: canned tomatoes from their garden, along with peaches and apples, pizzelles, peanut brittle, and toffee candies and of course, the potica. 

Potica is a yeast bread that is rolled out, with a filling of walnuts, brown sugar, raisins and butter spread evenly over the surface, and the whole thing is rolled up and set aside to proof before baking. It is then sliced and served warm or at room temperature. It's perfect with coffee for breakfast. Although it's not something I'm likely to make more than once a year, it is a special thing. My Croatian neighbor, Erwin, is the only person I've ever met outside my family who knew it. So I made this and brought some to him and his wife and his Croatian parents while they were visiting. They loved that I knew how to make it. But then his mother sent us some of hers during the holidays and it was sooooo much better. 

 

I also bake cookies a lot. For the holidays I gave away these packages with ginger cookies, linzer cookies, almond shortbread and chocolate cut-outs. I also make bread everyday at work--foacaccia and brioche- and I love them both. There is something really nice about starting your day early with a cold slab of freshly made dough, set it aside to rise and go back to it, shape it, bake it and see it through to completion. It's very satisfying and something I love about my job.

 

The pizza-ish thing is a fruit focaccia I made at home with some leftover dough one day. 

And lastly, my dog Olive. Even though she is known to indulge in my baking from time to time without permission, how could I stay angry at that face?