Fearless Kitchen

Recipe: Polenta Canapes

Recipe Source: Klein, Donna.  Vegan Italiano.  Penguin Group, New York, 2006 p. 11

When I was planning my Thanksgiving meal I was faced with a bit of an issue.  My in-laws' favorite part of any meal or gathering is the appetizer.  If I wanted this to be a positive experience for them I needed to make something delicious for them to eat.  Unfortunately I was really short on two resources: time and refrigerator space.  This recipe, which is really a combination of two recipes on the same page, was perfect for my needs.  It was easily made that morning, delicious, and it looked great.  Everyone was pretty into these, both the day of the event and the next day.  My daughter liked them.  Even the dogs liked them, although we certainly didn't encourage them to sample.

I made a few changes.  I made a lot of changes.  The first is that the recipe is no longer vegan.  Sorry - I was in a rush and so I just made up the recipe for pesto on the spot.  Fortunately none of our guests are actually vegan, so it was okay.  In terms of the pesto, while I realize that pesto usually kind of inherently involves nuts I used breadcrumbs instead.  We're supposed to avoid giving our daughter tree nuts for another couple of months and there was no way on Earth that we were going to keep her out of these.  I simplified the olive and sun-dried tomato paste to be two ingredients, which allowed me to use a prepared olive paste and just made my life hugely easier.  I omitted the garnish.  I made my polenta fresh instead of using packaged cooked polenta, which saved on cost and allowed me to control things like the shape.

Polenta Canapes (serves 16; approx. $1.43/serving)

3 cups polenta

1 tablespoon olive oil

2 tablespoons garlic paste

6 cups vegetable broth

1 cup basil leaves, roughly chopped

1/4 cup olive oil

1/2 cup breadcrumbs

1/2 cup grated pecorino pepato

1 jar olive paste

1/2 cup sun dried tomatoes, roughly chopped

Equipment:

• Large roasting pan
• Large saucepan
• Food processor
• Mini-prep food processor

1. Preheat your oven to 350.
2. Combine the basil, breadcrumbs, cheese and 1/4 cup oil in the food processor.  Process to a paste.
3. Combine the olive paste and sun-dried tomatoes in the mini-prep.  Process to a paste.
4. Bring the broth to a boil in the saucepan.
5. Add the polenta in a slow stream, stirring constantly.
6. Reduce heat.  Add the garlic and remaining tablespoon olive oil.  Stir well.
7. Cover and cook 15 minutes.
8. Remove from heat.  Let stand, covered, 5 minutes.
9. Spread the polenta into the saucepan.  Let stand a few minutes.
10. Spread half the polenta with the pesto and half with the olive paste.
11. Bake 15 minutes.
12. Cut into squares and serve.  These are good warm or at room temperature.

Recipe: Carrots and Turnips with Sage

Recipe Source: Kasper, Lynne Rossetto.  The Italian Country Table.  Scribner, New York, 1999 p. 278

I know I've mentioned this before but I'll say it again.  The problem with getting a regular CSA farm share is that sometimes you get things you just don't like.  Now, this isn't always a horrible thing.   I've been making a real effort to learn to like or at least tolerate cabbage and I think I'm making a lot of headway there.  I've learned to develop a tolerance for winter squash in moderation, when tempered by appropriate spices.  I don't think I'll ever learn to like things like carrots or sweet potatoes, though.  They just don't work for me.  They are far to sweet.  Something that sweet should contain chocolate.  If it doesn't contain chocolate I will only be frustrated and angered by the poor vegetable.  Of course, both carrots and sweet potatoes grow quite well here in New England so I got quite a lot of both this year.  Especially carrots.  I saved them all up until I needed food to feed to our Sunday guests, which seemed to be a good way to rid myself of the pernicious things.  In this case I tried to find ways to combine the carrots - clearly created by the Devil just to menace me - with flavors that I like.

One way I did that was native to the recipe in that the original called for sage and I used sage.  I love sage.  I don't love sage nearly as much as my daughter apparently loves sage - I caught her pulling sage leaves right from an indoor plant and popping them into her mouth today.  But I do love sage, especially as the weather turns chillier, and that's what attracted me to this recipe in the first place.  I also added turnips.  I quite like turnips, and adding them here not only moderated the awfulness of carrot but filled out the recipe a bit.  I replaced the broth with more wine for no other reason than the fact that I was out of broth.  I increased the quantity of onion and I added some garlic on general principles.  The result was a dish that did not disgust me.  Since it was a carrot dish, that's saying a lot.

Carrots and Turnips with Sage (serves 8; approx. $0.87/serving)

12 carrots, peeled and sliced

2 turnips, peeled, halved and sliced

1 tablespoon olive oil

1 onion, thinly sliced

1 generous handful fresh sage leaves, chopped

Kosher salt and blak pepper to taste

1 cup white wine

4 garlic cloves, sliced

Equipment:

• Large saute pan

1. Heat the oil in the saute pan.
2. Add the onion and garlic with a pinch of kosher salt.  Saute for about a minute.
3. Add the carrots, turnips, pepper and sage.  Saute about 10 minutes.
4. Add the wine and bring to a gentle simmer.
5. Cover and cook 15 minutes.
6. Serve.

Recipe: Pasta with Mushrooms and Peas

Recipe Source: Klein, Donna.  Vegan Italiano.  The Penguin Group, New York, 2006 pp. 70 - 1.

Halloween is a very important holiday in the Fearless household.  My husband and I met on Halloween.  We first got together on Halloween (several years later.)  My husband used to throw this huge Halloween party every year, with elaborate decorations and crowds that would probably be illegal at any other time of year.  We haven't been hosting the halloween parties the past few years, though.  As we've gotten older we've found that between competing parties and our friends' lifestyle changes it just isn't feasible anymore.  It's not as though we're not celebrating, though.  We're just letting other people host!

This year we went to a party in Allston hosted by some good friends of ours.  I wanted to make sure that we both had something in our stomachs before we left the house.  Don't get me wrong - the hosts are fantastic cooks and it's always a delight to eat their cooking, but Halloween is more of a snacky-food holiday than a proper-dinner holiday.  I wanted to make sure that we got at least some actual nutrition before we hit the eyeball cupcakes and gummy fingers.  This is also a party at which it is reasonable to expect that drinking will occur, and drinking on an empty stomach is just stupid.

So I made this dish.  I made a few changes to the original because I wouldn't be me if I didn't.  I added some garlic because garlic is necessary for survival.  I used a lot more of the vegetables - mushrooms and peas - and I added some dried lobster mushrooms because they looked pretty in the store.  (Don't judge.  They were good.)  I omitted the parsley and I used some spices that weren't really called for in the original and wouldn't be found in most Italian cooking, vegan or otherwise.  I used whole wheat pasta as well.

I'd say that this dish was a success.  We both loved it, but we found we couldn't eat as much of it as we'd have liked.  That was fine; I was able to save it and serve it the next day as a pasta salad for our Sunday open house.

Pasta with Mushrooms and Peas (serves 12; approx. $1.26/serving)

2 tablespoons olive oil

6 garlic cloves, sliced

1 onion, diced

10 ounces cremini mushrooms, thinly sliced

3 1/2 ounces shiitake mushrooms, thinly sliced

1 package dried lobster mushrooms, rehydrated and sliced

14 ounces canned diced tomatoes with their juices

1 pound frozen green peas

Kosher salt to taste

1 teaspoon ground black pepper

1/2 teaspoon very hot chili powder

1/4 teaspoon ground coriander

1 box whole wheat rotini, cooked according to package instructions and drained

Equipment:

• Large saute pan

1. Heat the oil in the saute pan.
2. Add the onion and garlic.  Saute until softened.
3. Add the mushrooms.  Cook until slightly softened.
4. Add the tomatoes, peas, salt and spices.  Bring to a simmer.
5. Simmer until the sauce thickens.
6. Add the pasta.  Toss well.
7. Serve.

Recipe: Sweet Potato Gnocchi with Sage Butter

Recipe Source: The Silver Spoon.  Pahidon Press, New York, 2005 p. 260

What I'm about to say will probably sound like heresy to most of the real foodies out there.  It will probably destroy all of my food-snot cred if I had any to begin with.  I loathe sweet potatoes.  I dislike any kind of sweet vegetable - carrots, winter squash, whatever - but they are all my boon companions in comparison to sweet potatoes.  I have never, ever liked sweet potatoes.  In addition to their cloying sweetness, which makes spun sugar candy look bitter by comparison, they taste like sick.  As in vomit.  I hate them and I always have.  I've tried and tried to like them and I think it's safe to say that they are my official least favorite food ever.  For many folks this would not be a problem.  They simply would not buy sweet potatoes.  The problem is that they are a local ingredient, in season at the moment, and they came from my farm share.  I was unwilling to simply throw them away, and I'm told that chucking them at election campaigners is illegal in this state.  I racked my brain for something to do with the cursed things.  That was when it occurred to me: I have an entire army of willing diners every Sunday until the yard is too covered to fight in.  I also have a small child who adores all orange foods.

I decided I would make gnocchi with the sweet potatoes.  Gnocchi freeze well and they're really easy to use once you've made them.  The only problem with that is that I had never made gnocchi before.  They're so easy to buy prepared!  I still felt that I needed to do it for myself.  Making my own cuts down on the processed foods I purchase, it gives me more control over what goes into my meals, and (most importantly) it gets those (expletive) sweet potatoes off my counter.  I found a recipe I liked in The Silver Spoon, a very useful book that doubles as an offensive weapon.  I did make a couple of changes to the recipe.  I used whole wheat flour for the flour because more fiber is always a good thing, and I found I needed to supplement my sweet potatoes with regular potatoes.  You see, while I felt I was drowning in the things, I didn't have 2 1/4 pounds of them.  I had closer to 1 1/2 pounds.

The use of regular potatoes had an interesting effect: it mitigated the awfulness of the sweet potatoes to such an extent that I was able to stomach them. That's right.  I ate six whole gnocchis and they didn't make me want to return them!  Another guest, who as it turns out has roughly the same opinion of sweet potatoes as I do, actually had seconds.  I would therefore strongly recommend this recipe.

Sweet Potato Gnocchi with Sage Butter (serves 8; approx. $1.35/serving)

1 1/2 pounds sweet potatoes, peeled and roughly chopped

3/4 pound regular potatoes, peeled and roughly chopped

1 3/4 cups whole wheat flour, plus extra for dusting

1 egg, beaten

Kosher salt to taste

1 3/4 sticks butter

1 handful sage leaves, chopped

Equipment:

• Large saucepan
• Surface on which to work - I use a glass cutting board in circumstances like these
• Skimmer or large slotted spoon
• Potato masher
• Large saute pan or wok

1. Fill the large saucepan with water and bring to a boil.
2. Add the potatoes.  Boil until very tender.
3. Drain.  While still hot, return the potatoes to the saucepan and mash with the potato masher.  I enlisted my 21-month-old daughter's help here; she so much fun doing it that she became quite irate when I told her we were finished.
4. Add the flour and egg along with a little bit of salt to taste.  Mix well.
5. Set aside until the mixture is cool enough that you can work it with your hands.  Only you know how long that will take.
6. When you can touch the dough, grab a handful of dough.  Use your hands to roll in into a long log about 2/3" in diameter.  This works best on a floured surface, believe me.
7. Cut the log into small pieces about 1/2" long.  If you feel up to shaping them that's great.  If you don't, it's not a big deal.
8. Repeat until all the dough is used.
9. Clean out the saucepan.  Fill it with clean water and return to a boil.
10. Add a few handfuls of gnocchi to the boiling water.  Meanwhile, melt the butter with the sage and a little salt in the saute pan.
11. As the gnocchi cook they will rise to the surface.  Use the skimmer to transfer them from the saucepan to the melted butter.
12. Repeat until all the gnocchis are cooked and transferred to the butter.
13. Serve.  You can garnish with more chopped fresh sage if you feel so inclined.

Recipe: Radishes with Pepper and Brine

Recipe Source: Apicius.  Cookery and Dining in Imperial Rome.  Joseph Dommer Vehling, ed. and trans.  Dover Publications, New York, 1977 p. 84

I'm looking at this recipe, and I'm looking at the original recipe.  The recipe has precisely four ingredients.  The original recipe takes up two lines, and even that's kind of a stretch.  What can I do to make something so simple, so elemental, interesting enough to be worth your attention?  Well, it was worthy of my attention, but I'm weird like that.  Maybe you're weird like that too.

Or maybe I can talk about why I made this dish.  I made it by accident.  I had initially intended to make a turnip recipe on the same page, but when I got down to work Sunday morning I got confused.  I had quite a few radishes on hand from our farm share, and I hadn't had nearly enough coffee, and the child and dog were distracting me, so I got down to slicing and the next thing I knew this dish was finished.  That was when I realized I'd made a mistake.  I'd meant to serve turnips.  Oh well, I thought, easy enough to fix.  Everyone can use more vegetables in their life, after all, and it got the radishes out of my refrigerator.

And that's kind of the thing.  When we modern folks think about Imperial Rome, we think of decadence, of opulence, of waste.  We think of aristocrats gorging themselves on food and drink, then deliberately inducing vomiting so they could repeat the process.  That certainly happened on occasion, but I don't believe that it was as commonplace as we think.  Those over-the-top banquets have survived in print and legend, I think, specifically because they were so extraordinary.  Apicius is the author of the most complete cookbook we have from that era.  There are certainly opulent recipes in Apicius, but there are plenty of recipes in there that are beautiful in their simplicity.  I frequently turn to Apicius for vegetable recipes, for example, that really let the vegetables themselves shine through.

This is one such dish.  It has four ingredients.  Four.  There are radishes, salt, vinegar and pepper.  You do not have to heat up your kitchen.  You can make this ahead of time by several hours.  You could bring it to a potluck or a picnic.  You could bring it to work as a healthy snack.  You can serve it as part of an elaborate banquet or as a side dish to a simple dinner, just as the ancient Romans did.

Radishes with Pepper and Brine (serves 8; approx. cost per serving not available)

2 bunches radishes, very well cleaned

1/2 cup red wine vinegar

4 tablespoons kosher salt

2 tablespoons pepper

Equipment:

• You'll need a very sharp knife to slice the radishes thinly, but a food processor with the slicer attachment will work just as well if you're not comfortable with your knife skills.

1. Slice the radishes as thin as you possibly can.  Transfer them to the serving dish.
2. Combine the salt with the vinegar and mix well.  Try to dissolve as much of the salt as you can.
3. Pour the brine over the radishes.
4. Sprinkle with pepper.  Mix well.
5. Serve.

Recipe: Risotto-Style Barley

It's easy to be confused by a lot of the hype around nutrition lately.  First carbs are good.  Then carbs are bad.  Then some carbs are good again.  Then carbs are bad again.  Then there's fiber.  I know it makes my head hurt.  Of course, nutritional advice that is valid and useful for one person may be completely useless for the next.  For example, a diabetic person needs to pay attention to carbohydrates.  A marathon runner who does not suffer from diabetes does not need to be concerned about carbohydrates.  Someone who is anemic needs to weigh the benefits of iron from red meat against the possible risks of eating a lot of red meat.  Someone who is not anemic doesn't need so much iron and can get away with a lot less meat.  It goes on and on.  The hard part comes when trying to cook for an audience with multiple and sometimes opposing needs.

Our Sunday dinners are intended primarily for a bunch of people who have been exercising heavily.  They need carbohydrates.  I can throw anything at them: potatoes, white bread, rice, you name it.  There are other diners - like, say, me - who need to be more judicious about our carbohydrate selection.  If I'm going to get carbohydrates - not necessarily bad for me, but high in calories - I want to get something more than calories for my efforts.  I've been making an effort to use more whole or less-processed grains for exactly that reason.  I've made "risottos" before with pearled barley.  This time I wanted to do it with hulled barley - more fiber, you see.

I didn't try to get too fancy with this.  I thought about adding some collard greens but ultimately decided to keep this very simple.  At the end of the day, this was a real hit.  There were no leftovers at all.

If you're wondering why I bought vegetable stock instead of using my Lemony Vegetable Broth, it's simple.  I have run out of appropriate containers for my broth.  Once I have enough containers in an appropriate size I will cheerfully make more of it.

Risotto-Style Barley (serves 8; approx. $2.34/serving)

2 cups hulled barley

6 cups vegetable broth, warmed

2 onions, minced

1 head garlic, sliced

2 cups grated Pecorino Pepato cheese

1 1/2 cups white wine

4 tablespoons olive oil

Kosher salt to taste

Equipment:

• Medium saucepan
• Large saucepan
• Ladle
• Time

1. Keep the broth warm in the medium saucepan.
2. Heat the oil in the large saucepan.
3. Add the onions and garlic with a pinch of kosher salt.  Saute until the onions are soft.
4. Add the barley.  Stir to coat with the pan juices.  Saute about a minute.
5. Add 1 ladle full of broth and the wine.  Stir until the liquid is mostly absorbed.  This will take a while, which is why I listed time in the equipment list.
6. Add another ladle of broth.  Stir until the liquid is absorbed.
7. Continue adding broth little by little, stirring until each addition is completely absorbed before proceeding.  This takes a long time.  Ultimately the texture will still be chewy, which is normal.
8. When you've finished adding all the broth and all the liquid has been absorbed, add the cheese and remove from heat.  Stir to combine and clamp the lid on for a minimum of five minutes.  The residual heat will melt the cheese and the steam will finish cooking the barley.
9. Serve hot.

Recipe: Turnips with Oil and Vinegar

Recipe Source: Apicius.  Cooking and Dining in Imperial Rome.  Joseph Dommers Vehling, trans.  Dover Publications, New York, 1977 p. 84

The turnip was never part of my culinary experience as a child, but it was always kind of bound up in my mental image of the Middle Ages.  In my little head I could see the Great Queen (who bore a strong resemblance to Elizabeth I of England) riding around the countryside while the peasants devoted their lives to growing turnips and cabbages, which they then sold at enormous fairs consisting of nothing but turnips and cabbages.  (I clearly had some very unclear ideas on economics.)  Since they were (in my imagination) medieval food, I reasoned that they had to be bland, boring and more than a little stinky.

Of course, I'm older now.  I've done some research.  I've read a few books.  I now understand that medieval people had taste buds too.  The diet of the average peasant probably had a lot of boredom to it, but is that any different than a steady diet of mass-produced food-like items?  Yes, they ate turnips.  They ate many other things too.  They cooked them in ways that made them taste good.  They seasoned them.  The dishes they made and recorded back then often continue to delight modern palates.

This dish, obviously, goes back quite a bit further than the Middle Ages.  Apicius was a Roman gastronome who was roughly contemporary with Jesus Christ.  He endowed a school of cookery, collected recipes and may have developed a few recipes himself.  A man of wealth such as himself would have been expected to have little to do with the kitchen - he had people for that - but evidence suggests that he actually did engage in the preparation of food himself.  The very earliest part of Imperial Roman history still captures the modern imagination as a time of extravagance, and some of Apicius' recipes reflect that.  Some of them, though, are stunningly beautiful in their simplicity.  This one has the added advantage of being very inexpensive without tasting cheap.

Turnips with Oil and Vinegar (serves 12; approx. $0.24/serving)

1 bunch turnips (about 5), peeled and chopped

4 tablespoons olive oil

1/2 cup red wine vinegar

Sea salt to taste

Equipment:

• Saucepan
• Bowl
• Whisk

1. Bring a saucepan of water to a boil.
2. Add the turnip pieces.  Boil until they are tender, but don't let them get so tender that they fall apart.
3. Drain.  Transfer to your serving vessel.
4. Whisk together the oil and vinegar until emulsified.
5. Pour the dressing over the turnips.  Sprinkle with sea salt and serve.

Recipe: Red Chickpea Broth

Recipe Source: Martino of Como.  The Art of Cooking.  Luigi Ballerini, ed.  Jeremy Parzen, trans.  University of California Press, Berkeley, 2005 pp. 71 - 2.

You've probably heard all about our Sunday open houses by now, but if you haven't we have these open house things on Sunday afternoons for folks from a group of medieval history enthusiasts.  I serve dinner at these gatherings.  At one gathering a few weeks ago, I was (jokingly) censured for not making any actual medieval dishes that week.  I decided that the next time we met I would serve only documentable, historical dishes from before 1600.  To add to the challenge, none of these dishes were going to be sourced from my favorite cookbook, Annals of the Caliphs' Kitchens.  I added that additional restriction because, well, it is my favorite cookbook, and I feel like I refer to it too often.  I've got quite a few other cookbooks on hand and I really feel the need to prove that I can cook something besides tenth century Baghdadi cuisine.

So I went back to my other historical cookbooks.  I wanted to offer at least one vegetarian entree and this one really sprang to mind.  It had the added advantage of using up some of the cans of chickpeas in my pantry, making room for some of the things that are taking up counter space.  In theory, this is supposed to make eight servings, but we managed to get twelve as a side dish out of it.  I didn't need to make any real substitutions, although the measurements are in this case guessed at.  It was incredibly easy to prepare and very tasty to boot.

Red Chickpea Broth (serves 12; approx. $0.29/serving)

3 cans (14 - 20 oz cans, depending on what you've got) chickpeas, drained and rinsed

1 tablespoon flour

1 tablespoon olive oil

1 tablespoon black pepper

1 tablespoon ground cinnamon

3 cups water

10 sage leaves, chopped

1 sprig rosemary, leaves only, chopped

4 - 6 sprigs fresh parsley, chopped

Equipment:

• I used a Dutch oven for this recipe.  Any large, wide saucepan will probably do.

1. Combine all of the ingredients in the Dutch oven.
2. Bring to a boil.
3. Reduce heat and simmer until the chickpeas are tender but not disintegrating.
4. Transfer to a serving vessel and serve.

Recipe: Renaissance Chicken Wings

Recipe Source: Scappi, Bartolomeo. The Opera of Bartolomeo Scappi. Terence Scully, trans. University of Toronto Press, Toronto, 2008 p. 213

Bartolomeo Scappi was a master chef whose great work, referenced above, was published in 1570 AD. By "master chef" I don't mean a winner of some show on cable. I mean this guy was the personal chef to not one but two Popes, as well as a few cardinals. He cooked for the conclave that elected at least one Pope. Now, don't get me wrong. The Reformation was in full swing at this point, but the Pope was still probably the single most influential and powerful individual in the Western world. Scappi was responsible for keeping this man fed.

Now, this time was certainly an era of great opulence and show, at least for the wealthy and powerful. After all, what good was money if it didn't buy you power, and if no one knew how powerful you were you didn't have a whole lot of power at all. Our mental images of this period involve lavish costumes, ridiculously expensive furnishings, tables groaning under bizarre and fabulous dishes that later gave rise to nursery rhymes. There are plenty of fantastic dishes in Scappi, but there are plenty of more prosaic dishes as well. Our author is just as concerned about managing waste as any modern executive chef and his chapter on fowl includes recipes for cooking parts of birds that today we'd probably just throw away. Recipe 147 contains instructions for cooking necks, wings and feet of multiple types of fowl, including ducks and geese.

This is a very simple recipe. It has three ingredients - four if you count the salt, which isn't specified in Scappi. I did make one substitution. The original called for rendered fat to be used, although interestingly it does not call for the fat to be rendered pork fat. (Many medieval Western recipes call for pork fat, and refusal to use pork products in some places and times was interpreted as indicating that the cook or diner's conversion from Judaism or Islam was nominal only.) I used olive oil, because I did not have rendered fat of any kind on hand. I would like to think that Scappi would have used the same substitution if he found himself wanting rendered fat - through use, or possibly because the dog ate it, or whatever.

Basically, though, what you're getting here is a recipe for chicken wings that was certainly used five hundred years ago - all right, four hundred fifty - and still works well today. They didn't have buffalo sauce. Maybe you're serving guests who can't handle spicy food. Maybe you're out of buffalo sauce. Either way, these make a great appetizer or food for the game.

Renaissance Chicken Wings (serves 12; approx. $0.95/ea.)

18 chicken wings, prepared

2 bunches scallions, chopped

5 tablespoons olive oil

Kosher salt to taste

Equipment:

• Large saucepan
• Colander
• Large saute pan

1. Fill the large saucepan with salted water and add the chicken wings. Parboil the chicken wings until about half cooked.
2. Drain the chicken wings and set aside.
3. Set aside a handful of the chopped green parts of the scallions.
4. Heat the oil in the saute pan.
5. Add the chicken wings. Saute until the wings are cooked through.
6. About a minute before the chicken is done, add the scallion bits. Saute until the chicken is cooked through and the scallions are limp.
7. Transfer to your serving dish. Scatter with the reserved scallion greens and serve.

Recipe: Farro

Recipe Source: Martino of Como. The Art of Cooking. Luigi Ballerini, ed. Jeremy Parzen, trans. University of California Press, Berkeley, pp. 64 - 5

This is probably the last of the recipes I made for this year's big medieval party up in Maine. My husband has certain frankly strict ideas about what appropriate food is for these situations: meat and carbohydrates and not necessarily in that order. Me, I like vegetables and I like them to be plentiful. He would rather not see vegetables on offer at all. (However, since I am cooking I shall continue to offer vegetables and lots of them.) Anyway, while I had made plenty of bread ahead of time and frozen it, I wanted to have another carb dish on hand to forestall complaining er, satisfy those who wanted carbs. Just plain rice wasn't going to cut it for me, not this year and not when I had so many non-period dishes on the table. I wanted something with some fiber, maybe something a little unusual. As it happens I had a supply of farro laid in; I decided to use it here.

I usually try to avoid making changes to medieval recipes when I re-create them, but sometimes you just haven't much choice. I was bringing this dish camping. It was likely to be sitting out for some time, if it received any refrigeration at all. This meant that the fatty pullet broth and egg yolks were both contraindicated. Well, that's okay. Had this dish been made during Lent Master Martino would also have needed to switch to a vegetarian version. I omitted the eggs altogether and used a vegetable broth for the broth. To get the proportions of liquid to grain correct I referred to an article from Whole Living magazine, which you can find here.

Farro (serves about 20; approx. cost per serving not available)

8 cups vegetable broth

2 1/2 cups farro

2 tablespoons black pepper

1 tablespoon ground cumin

Pinch saffron

¾ teaspoon kosher salt

Equipment:

• Large saucepan with lid

1. Combine the broth and the saffron in the saucepan and bring to a boil.
2. Add the farro, salt and the spices.
3. Reduce heat, cover and simmer until tender, about 45 – 50 minutes.
4. Serve.