Blood Orange Showcase: Sicilian Christmas Salad

The following is the unedited copy of our column from the December 26, 2012 edition of The Forum. Our column appears every Wednesday in the SheSays section.

We celebrate Christmas Eve with my family and extended family from my mother’s side. Our tradition has always been to feature a large buffet of holiday appetizers, showcasing family favorites which often include pickled herring, lefse, clam dip, crackers, cheese, olives, smoked oysters, chips, and onion dip. And of course, the famous Green Jello Christmas Wreath.

When my Uncle, Tom Hance, joined the family back in 1982, he brought his family’s tradition of Christmas Ribs to our holiday buffet. This shift in tradition was met with some skepticism, but the ribs were so good that everyone decided they were a welcome addition to the menu. Tom passed away in April 2007, but his daughters have continued to make the Word’s Best Ribs for us ever since.

For the past six or seven years, Tony, Gio and I have hosted Christmas Eve at our home. During the first couple years, we made very few, if any, changes to the menu. However, as Gio grew beyond the baby stage, Tony and I wanted to bring some Italian flair to our Christmas Eve buffet, something that would reflect his heritage. We wanted to create a dish that our guests would look forward to year after year, just like Tom’s Ribs, or the Famous Green Jello Christmas Wreath. But what would we serve?

After studying what’s in season this time of year, we decided that our signature dish would be a salad. We took particular inspiration from the arrival of blood oranges in our local grocery stores, and wanted to make them the star of our recipe. I had never eaten a blood orange before, but Tony was very familiar with this special fruit. Blood oranges are commonly grown in Sicily, and Tony’s Uncle Pepe even grows them in his orange groves near Rosolini.

To make this dish truly Sicilian, Tony suggested adding fennel, mint and olives to the recipe, and our Sicilian Christmas Salad was born. It’s been a favorite on our holiday buffet ever since.

“I love this salad,” Tony says, “because it showcases what’s in season: the citrus and fennel, which are just so Sicilian together, and the mint, which is also common in Sicilian cooking and adds some holiday flavor. It just sings.”

The blood oranges are dynamic in this salad, not only for their beautiful crimson color, but also because of their unique flavor. With terrific bursts of citrus, a blood orange is typically sweeter than other oranges, and even offers notes of raspberry.

The slightly sweet, anise flavor of the fennel is a perfect compliment to this fruit, and its white color provides a nice contrast to the crimson and orange on the platter.

To make this salad, we use both Blood and Navel oranges. On a large platter, place a layer of oranges over the entire surface, alternating between red and orange slices and overlapping each other. Next, evenly distribute the sliced fennel and red onion around the oranges, then do the same with the mint. Randomly place green olives around the salad, season with salt and pepper, and complete by drizzling the salad with the very best extra virgin olive oil you can find. Serve and enjoy.

For the recipe, click here: Sicilian Christmas/Winter Salad Recipe

The Very Versatile Norwegian Gravlax

The following is the full copy of our column from the December 19, 2012 edition of The Forum. Our column appears in the SheSays section every Wednesday.

Norwegian Gravlax Recipe
Pickled Red Onions Recipe

Like many people in our region, my grandfather, Don Mathison, was 100% Norwegian and proud of it.  For years, our family’s Christmas Eve buffet has included Norwegian specialties like lefse, pickled herring and sardines. Several years ago, when Tony and I started hosting our family on Christmas Eve, we wanted to add our own dishes to the mix but wished to remain true to the cultural heritage of our two families.

We had no problem deciding which items from Tony’s Italian culture would be featured among the buffet of hearty hors d’oeuvres: marinated olives, a festive pesto pasta, and a beautiful Sicilian Christmas Salad featuring exotic blood oranges. But we also wanted to pay tribute to my Norwegian and Irish heritage, without having to increase our workload too much.

After some reflection, we decided to focus on salmon as our main ingredient, as this fish is popular within both cultures. And once we’d picked salmon, we knew exactly what to make: Gravlax.

Gravlax is a traditional Scandinavian specialty of cured salmon, originally made by fishermen in the Middle Ages. The men would salt the salmon and bury it under the sand near the high-tide line. This process allowed the salmon to cure, or ferment, and also gave the dish its name: grav means grave in Norwegian, Swedish and Danish, and lax (or laks) means salmon; hence, buried salmon = gravlax.

In spite of its humble origins, today gravlax is found on fancy party platters and upscale brunch buffets. This dish was the perfect choice for us: it’s easy to make, affordable, and must be prepared several days in advance, which is always helpful this time of year. Furthermore, we could serve it on our Christmas Eve buffet, and with bagels the following morning for our Christmas brunch.

Gravlax is not a smoked salmon, but is similar in flavor and texture to the cold smoked Nova-style salmon, or lox, commonly found in the gourmet section of our local grocery stores.

“Making gravlax is easy,” Tony says, “but the result is always impressive. Recipes can vary depending on their origin, but there are four key ingredients you must have to make gravlax: salmon, fresh dill, sugar and Kosher salt. The hardest part is waiting the two days until it’s ready to serve.”

The dry brine used to cure the fish adds a slight sweetness and a buttery texture which only serve to elevate the natural flavor of the salmon.  Fresh and delicate, Gravlax is the perfect dish for holiday entertaining.

For this recipe, Tony uses brown sugar, as well as small amounts of olive oil, lemon juice and brandy. You can omit the liquor, or use vodka, grappa, or go purely Scandinavian and use Aquavit instead.

For Christmas Eve, we serve our gravlax with pickled red onions and thin slices of good bread – fennel, pumpernickel, dark rye, or any crusty, European style bread will do. On Christmas morning we create a platter of diced red onion, capers and cream cheese, and serve the gravlax with toasted bagels from The Green Market in downtown Fargo (known in our home as the World’s Best Bagels).

We have so enjoyed coming into your homes this holiday season. From our home to yours, we wish you Happy Holidays and a very Merry Christmas!

Norwegian Gravlax Recipe
Pickled Red Onions Recipe

 

I Lied…

I have to confess…I lied. In my earlier blog post/homage to Ina Garten’s Coconut Macaroons titled “The Perfect Cookie,” I wrote that I hardly dared to deviate from Ina’s perfect recipe. And this was true when I wrote it. But, as I was baking into the wee hours of the morning on Thursday, I did just that.

You have to understand–this is something I rarely do, and the main reason why I prefer baking over cooking. With baking, if you have a good recipe, buy the best-quality ingredients and follow the instructions to the letter, you’re nearly guaranteed to get a good result.

I had already started down the path toward deviance with a batch of Chocolate Mint Buttermilk Brownies. Buttermilk Brownies are a staple in my baking repertoire, but I wanted to make them extra special for our 12th Anniversary Celebration at Sarello’s. So, I added some peppermint extract to the frosting, and was planning to sprinkle the top with crushed candy canes.

I was waiting for them to finish baking when I realized I still had half a bag of coconut in pantry just waiting to be used. I decided to make a quick half-batch of macaroons which could bake while I cleaned up the kitchen.

But, instead of following the recipe as I usually do, I decided to experiment, again. I don’t know what came over me to cause such reckless abandon to my baking protocol, but it was way past my bedtime and I’d been baking for hours already. My guard was down, and I needed a reason to stay up to clean the kitchen instead of heading to bed.

So, I went to my pantry and took out the cocoa powder. I added one tablespoon to the coconut mixture before folding in the egg whites, and prepared 25 cookies for baking. After I popped them in the oven, I waited with bated breath to see how they turned out. What if I’d ruined Ina’s perfect recipe? Worse yet, what if Ina found out?

25-30 minutes later, I was pleased to see that my “daring” addition of cocoa powder had not altered the outcome of this perfect cookie. And when I had my focus group test them in the morning, they received two thumbs up.

On Friday, I followed up my experiment by baking a full batch of Chocolate Macaroons, and this time I added one and a half tablespoons. Again, they turned out beautifully, but I think I might bump the cocoa powder up to two tablespoons the next time I experiment. Just to see what happens.

Are you a protocol baker, or a renegade in the kitchen? I’ve always thought of myself as the former, but I enjoyed my little excursion into the unknown more than I expected. I may have to reconsider the label. It might just be time to get a little crazy in the kitchen.

Happy Baking!

Click the link for the recipe to Ina Garten’s Coconut Macaroons.

 

Heavenly Cream of Parsnip Soup

This is the full content of our column which appeared in the Wednesday, December 12, 2012 edition of The Forum. To see a photo of the Cream of Parsnip Soup, visit The Forum’s webpage HERE. To view the recipe, visit our webpage HERE.

While we don’t often think of winter as a season of fresh produce, there are some wonderful options that spring to life this time of year. Root vegetables such as beets, carrots, and sweet potatoes have a long storage period, are an excellent source of nutrients and minerals, and can be enjoyed throughout the season. This week we’re going to share our passion for an often-overlooked and, in our opinion, underrated root vegetable: the parsnip.

“In my opinion, the parsnip has great diversity and is the tastiest root vegetable,” Tony says. “You can serve a parsnip puree instead of mashed potatoes. Or roast some parsnips in the oven to jazz up a salad. But whatever you do, keep the preparation simple and allow its flavors to be fully appreciated.”

Years ago Tony and I hosted a pre-opera dinner party for eight of our friends. I was on the board of directors at the time, and I was hoping to cultivate more supporters for the Fargo-Moorhead Opera. We had never done anything like this before, and I wanted to dazzle our guests with our food and hospitality. Everything had to perfect.

On the day of the event, Tony told me that he had changed the soup for the evening to Cream of Parsnip. At the time I wasn’t very familiar with parsnips. To say that I was skeptical about this change is an understatement. In fact, we actually argued about it. I wanted the menu to reflect foods of luxury – the main course was a duo of beef tenderloin and sea bass, after all – and in my mind, lobster bisque was the only option. The paltry parsnip was simply not up to the task.

But Tony was adamant, and I was surprised by his zealous defense of the parsnip.

“Trust me,” he said. “Everyone expects lobster bisque at a dinner like this. We need to keep it simple and focus on what’s in season. Let the food surprise our guests, and we will exceed their expectations.”

I relented, but remained a skeptic. Our guests arrived, and we cruised through the first course. The soup was up next, and I held my breath as we served the Cream of Parsnip Soup. Several of our guests commented that they had never tried parsnips in a soup before. I sat and waited for their reaction as they tasted the soup. At first, no one said anything – they were too busy eating. So I took a spoonful myself, and was immediately converted.

The parsnip soup was heavenly. Warm and comforting, the parsnip embraced me with its subtle sweetness and nutty flavor. There were tones of butterscotch, and a hint of spice, too. And, with its pretty ivory color and velvety smooth texture, the soup was naturally elegant.

True to Tony’s word, our guests were positively gushing with praise, almost giddy in the excitement of this new discovery. The Cream of Parsnip was the hit of the evening, and several of our guests continue to support the Fargo Moorhead Opera to this day.

After nineteen years of marriage, I have learned to admit when I’m wrong about something. Tony was right about the parsnip, and I’m happy to eat crow on this one. As long as it’s served with parsnip soup.