Potato Wrapped Cod with Bacony Garlicky Greens

Happy New Year, my dear blog friends!  I hope you and yours have had a healthy and happy holiday, and that you’ve eaten as well as I have since the last time I checked in.  It’s been a whirlwind couple of months for me – filled with friends and frolic – but I’ve missed sharing with you what Lolita has been making and eating.  I’ll start back again today with an elegant, delicious meal I’ve tried a few times before with limited success.  It’s the technique really; I’d never effectively executed the pan-searing of this lovely piece of scallop-potato wrapped whitefish before, at least, not without the potato slices falling off whenever I tried to flip the fillet.  But I’m not one to give up, especially on a succulent meal, and after doing a little research online about how others have made this lovely spud-swaddled delicacy successfully, I tried it again with incredible results.  A crispy wrapping of thinly sliced potatoes is *exactly* what a plank of cod needs to make it something extra-special, and when served atop a bed of bacony garlic greens, it makes a perfect meal: balanced, light, and helluva tasty, yo.

Potato Wrapped Cod with Bacony Garlicky Greens

1lb cod fillet
2 slices bacon
1 large russet potato
4 cloves garlic
1 bunch lacinato kale
2 tablespoons butter
4 tablespoons EVOO
hickory smoked garlic salt, crushed black pepper, crushed red pepper
freshly grated parmesan cheese
1 qt frying oil
(Ignore those mushrooms and that onion; I didn’t end up using them)

I start by peeling my potato, removing as many surface blemishes as possible.

Using my mandoline’s lowest setting, I slice my potato into the longest wafers I can.  I drop these into a bowl of water to keep them from turning color.

I layer the slices of potato between sheets of paper towel to dry them once I’m finished slicing up the whole spud.

After heating my quart of oil to 375, I drop a few slices of potato into the fat at a time, par-frying them for barely a moment.

Fishing them out with a slotted or mesh spoon, I lay them in a single layer across some fresh paper towels (with a paper bag underneath for extra absorption) to soak up all the excess oil.  This par-frying technique softens the slices by leeching off a good deal of the starch; this makes them easier to wrap around the fish.

Speaking of which: look at that beautiful thing.  I asked the fishmonger at Whole Foods for this mostly uniform sized and shaped plank of cod, so I could cut it into two equally sized pieces – one for me, and one for the husbandman.

Some dear friends of mine (Hey, Montana Palmers!) sent me a lovely care packages of their homemade spices as a Christmas present, and I’ve been working them all into my recipes ever since they arrived.  This hickory smoked garlic salt was just the fit for this meal.  I sprinkle it, and some cracked black pepper, generously over my fish.

After laying down a large piece of plastic wrap, I assemble my slices of potatoes by overlapping them at the very edges and ends to form a “sheet” large enough to accommodate my plank of fish.  It takes 8 slices for each piece.

I place my piece of fish on the center seam of spuds…

… and using the plastic wrap, I wrap one half of the spuds over the fish.  I lay that part of the plastic wrap on the counter again…

… before using the other side of the wrap to lift and layer the other side of the spuds over the fish, overlapping the potato slices already in place.

Then I tightly seal the plastic wrap around the whole package, before repeating with the other portion of fish.  I place these beauties in the refrigerator to chill for about an hour.

Meanwhile, I cut my two slices of bacon into inch long pieces before frying them out in a large pan.

I also prep my kale by removing the stems and cutting each leaf into bite sized pieces.  I also mince my 4 cloves of garlic.

After an hour, my potato slices have adhered to the fish planks nicely, and they’re ready for cooking.  I sprinkle salt and pepper on both sides of each “package”…

… and place them in a hot pan in which I’ve heated my butter and EVOO to frothy and sizzling.  I cook these arroser, which means I use a deep spoon (I use a miso soup spoon, actually; the flat bottom is very helpful!) to scoop up the fat from the pan and baste the tops of my fish packets while the bottoms sear on the pan’s surface.  Since I have thick pieces of fresh cod, and I want to make sure any worms are safely destroyed (look it up, people – there are Lernaeocera branchialis in most fresh white fish, but cooking to 140° kills ’em good), I sear on each side – basting continuously – for about 5 minutes.

Meanwhile, I add my kale to the pan with the bacon and cook until slightly wilted.  Then I throw in all my garlic, a few shakes of crushed red pepper, and some salt, and I stir it around really really well.  I don’t want the garlic to burn or brown, but I do want it nicely heated through and thoroughly blended with the greens.

At the last moment, I remove the kale from the heat, shave some parm on it, and plate it.

My fish is ready when each side of it is nicely browned and crispy.

I mix a little Greek yogurt with crushed black pepper and a little lemon juice, stick that into a squeeze bottle, and use it to garnish my lovely fish.  The crispy, potato exterior is the perfect compliment to the flaky fish ensconced within.  The greens are perfectly wilted – still a little toothsome, but not stringy – and the abundance of garlic offsets the unctiousness of the bacon like a champ.  Each bite of this meal is like warm heaven…

Weeknight Wondermeal: Sweet Sausage and Grapes

This is, quite possibly, one of the easiest meals I’ve ever made.  And it could even be simplier, if you don’t care about adding rice or rosemary to it.  6 basic ingredients, and less than an hour on the stovetop: what could be easier?  So this one goes out to all my friends who say they can’t cook.  If you can’t make this sweet, savory, satisfying recipe, you may be dead — which would explain a lot of things…

Sweet Sausage and Grapes

1 lb sweet italian sausage links (or 1/2 sweet, 1/2 hot)
1 lb mixed red and green seedless grapes
1/4 cup EVOO
1/2 cup red wine
1 tbs butter
2 sprigs fresh rosemary
4 tbs balsamic vinegar
white rice
crusty bread (for sopping)

The first thing to do is gently blanch the sausages by boiling them for a few moments in hot water.  Why?  This cooks out a lot of oil, and it helps keep the sausages from splitting open.  I used the same pan I was going to cook the whole meal in, and just wiped out the water between the boil and the sear.

To sear the sausages, I got my EVOO hot in the pan (which is high-sided and large enough for the whole meal), then cooked the links – rolling a quarter turn every couple minutes – until they were nicely browned on all surfaces.

Then I added my wine, using a spatula to scrape up the sausage fond while the liquid reduced for about 3 minutes on high.

Then I added my grapes.  Mmmmm… grapes.

Then I added my knob of butter and my stems of rosemary.  Then I covered the pan, and let it simmer on the stovetop over medium-high heat for 40 minutes.

I got my rice working on a back burner, then checked my pan.  The liquid content has increased dramatically with stewed grape juice, and the sausages are fully cooked through and tinted a deep purple from the red wine.  I remove the lid, raise the heat so the liquid will reduce and thicken, and I let it simmer another 10 minutes while I heat a baguette in the oven for dippin’.  When the liquid is thick enough to coat the back of a spoon, I plate up my sausages and grapes, leaving the liquid in the pan before adding my balsamic vinegar to the mix.  I let this simmer for 5 minutes, stirring well to incorporate everything and to scrape up any nice brown bits from the base of the pan.

The marriage of rich, tangy sweetness and rich, porky unctuousness in this dish is just heavenly!  Most of the grapes have cracked into  juicy pulpy packets of flavor, but some burst on the tongue with hot insistence, exploding into the mouth like atom bombs of delight.  The rosemary adds just a note of woodiness, and the balsamic vinegar brings balance to the sugar.  The sauce is thick and viscous, just begging to be mopped up with crusty bread and studded with slices of tender Italian sausage.  I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again: sometimes, simple = perfect.  And this recipe is proof of that.  Enjoy!

Monkfish, Roasted Broccoli, Vidalia Onion Wedges, Bleu Cheese Bacon Cream Sauce

I wanted to eat healthy, so I bought some fish.  But then I bathed it in sauce made from heavy cream cut with butter, bacon, and rich bleu cheese.  Contradiction: meet Lolita’s kitchen.

Who cares?  Tonight I decided to screw healthy and embrace HEAVENLY!!!! (In my mind, I hear boychoirs singing; timpani pulsating; swells of orchestral drama.)  A buttery, sharpcreamy, unctuous pork-bit-laden white sauce enrobes tender-but-toothsome pan-seared poor-man’s-lobsterfish and is accompanied by crunchy caramelized broccoli bites — resulting in a super-sin-fulfilling supper, one my hard-working and intensely studying (for his nursing degree) husband richly deserves, especially between a long day on the clock and a long night of hitting the books.   Warm, rich, and delicious: what else does one need as a digestif to prepare the body for future rounds of intellectual consumption?

Monkfish, Roasted Broccoli, Vidalia Onion Wedges, Bleu Cheese Bacon Cream Sauce

1lb monkfish
3-4 slices bacon
1-2lb broccoli
1/4lb nice, sticky, quality bleu cheese
1 Vidalia onion
EVOO, sea salt, cracked black pepper, spices, flour
1 cup vegetable/canola oil
1 tsp sugar
2 tbs butter
1 cup heavy cream

I start with the broccoli, because it takes a while to roast — like 30 minutes at least on 350° F.  I cut it into florets, spread it on a baking sheet, generously douse it with EVOO, sprinkle it with sea salt and cracked black pepper, and finally…

… I very loosely scatter about a teaspoon of granulated white sugar over the broccoli crowns.  Why?  Because it makes magic! A touch of sugar + salt + oil + heat = crunchy but tender, toasted-tipped, uber-broccoli-flavored broccoli.  Just trust me — try it — and you will believe.  I shove the baking sheet into the oven and roast everything for the next 30-40 minutes.

While the broccoli roasts, I fry my bacon.

Vidalia onions are super-sweet.  You can eat them like apples – really! (Although you may not want to hook up with anyone right afterwards without a visit from Uncle Listerine.)  I saw them at the market, bought one, and had sliced it up for frying before I even really knew what I was doing.

I threw some flour and this seasoned salt I bought in Chinatown who-knows-when into a ziplock bag….

… then threw the onions into the bag, and shook ’em up real good to coat.

I added about a cup of vegetable oil to the bacon grease I’d reserved in the pan, heated it it sizzling over medium high heat, and then shook my onions free of flour before chucking them into the fat. Because they are fairly thick (I cut wedges about 1/2″ thick), they contain a lot of water, so they take some time to fry — about 10 minutes, with me constantly turning them to cook them evenly.

When they are crunchy on the outside and tenderhot on the inside, they’re ready.  So, you get to taste test until they’re right.  It’s a hard life (and, as it turns out, this is mostly just a garnish).

The monkfish I cut into roughly 4 equal planks, then I toss them in salted flour.

I get my butter and a glug of EVOO hot in the same pan from whence I fried my onions, only I’ve wiped it out first.  I think monkfish looks like something HR Giger would dream up – but he would probably include in his twisted vision their deliciousness.  It is truly one of the sea’s ugly suckling ducklings.  (Read: it tastes good, but looks beastly – alive or filleted.)  But regardless of their off-putting appearance, I saute them in the hot fat, spooning the butteroil over the exposed surfaces while the undersides deeply pan-sear.  I flip them each time the underedge crisps to golden (so about 4-6 times, every 2-3 minutes).

Once the fish has cooked mostly through (about 10 minutes total), I add my heavy cream and bacon, which I’ve roughly chopped.

I then crumble some of my bleu cheese into the baconcream, which I let simmer until completely melted, messing impatiently with it every once-in-a-I’m-ready-to-eat-now! while.

If you are on a diet, don’t eat this.  But if you need to pamper yourself with rich sumptuousness, go for it.  I did.  Tender, buttery fish, creamy bleu cheese sauce, crunchy broccoli and sweet fried onions – a symphony of tastes and textures. We ate.  Lustily.  And Clayton is currently – after indulging in this soul-strengthening heartfilling repast – conquering micro-bio with determination, vigor, and intelligence.  Tomorrow, maybe I’ll make a salad.  Today: WE DINED.  You should, too.