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Leeks in the NYTimes

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I don't know what mirin is, but I assume that it is vegetarian.

Carol

 

* Exported from MasterCook Mac *

 

LEEK AND SHIITAKE BREAD PUDDING

 

Recipe By : The New York Times Company

Serving Size : 6 Preparation Time :1:35

Categories : Casseroles Vegetarian

 

Amount Measure Ingredient -- Preparation Method

-------- ------------ --------------------------------

4 medium leeks -- trimmed, halved

lengthwise and washed

4 tablespoons butter -- more for pan

Kosher salt

Freshly ground black pepper

7 ounces shiitake mushrooms -- brushed off and

halved (or quartered, if large)

3 cups milk

1 clove garlic -- crushed

8 slices semolina bread -- day-old

(1/2 inch thick)

3 eggs

1/2 cup heavy cream

1 Pinch ground coriander.

 

Time: 45 minutes, plus 50 minutes' baking time

1. Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Cut leeks diagonally into 2-inch sections; cut

off bottom-most half inch, at root end, and discard. In large saute pan, melt

butter over medium-low heat. Add leeks, season with salt and pepper, and cover.

Simmer over low heat until leeks are just tender but not mushy, for about 10

minutes. Add mushrooms, toss to coat, and cook until tender, for about 5

minutes. Uncover; cook off all but 2 tablespoons liquid. Check seasoning; set

aside.

2. In small pan, heat milk over medium-high heat. While it heats, season to

taste with salt and pepper. When bubbles form around edge, remove from heat, and

add garlic. Place bread in a bowl, and pour milk over it. Let soak for 10

minutes.

3. In small bowl, whisk eggs and cream. Season with salt, pepper and coriander.

4. Bring medium pot of water to boil. Place roasting pan large enough to hold

medium oval casserole in oven. Butter the dish. Using spatula, lift slice of

bread from milk, and drain well. Press bread up against end of dish so that it

comes up sides. Spoon some leek mixture over. Place second bread slice atop

first, covering two-thirds of it. Repeat with all the bread and leek mixture.

Layers should be snug, with slices looking like fallen dominoes. Discard milk

and garlic.

5. Whisk cream and eggs again; pour evenly over bread and leeks. Place casserole

in roasting pan; pour enough boiling water around casserole to come halfway up

sides. Bake for 40 minutes, until pudding is set at edges but still a little wet

in middle. Increase oven setting to 375 degrees; bake for 10 minutes more to set

middle and to crisp top. Serve.

Yield: 6 servings.

 

 

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

 

 

Per serving (excluding unknown items): 397 Calories; 22g Fat (47% calories from

fat); 12g Protein; 43g Carbohydrate; 172mg Cholesterol; 197mg Sodium

Food Exchanges: 1/2 Lean Meat; 6 Vegetable; 1/2 Non-Fat Milk; 4 Fat

 

NOTES : Copyright 1999 The New York Times Company

http://www.nytimes.com/library/dining/100699leeks.html

 

_____

 

* Exported from MasterCook Mac *

 

LEEK TEMPURA

 

Recipe By : The New York Times Company

Serving Size : 4 Preparation Time :0:45

Categories : Appetizers Vegetarian

 

Amount Measure Ingredient -- Preparation Method

-------- ------------ --------------------------------

1/4 cup mirin

1/4 cup soy sauce

1 1/2 tablespoons rice wine vinegar

1 tablespoon finely sliced chives

1 tablespoon minced ginger

3 slices ginger (1/8-inch)

3 cups chicken stock

Kosher salt

6 small leeks (less than 1-inch diameter) -- trimmed, halved

lengthwise and washed, reserving about 10

green leaves

3/4 cup flour

1 egg yolk.

 

Time: 45 minutes

1. Stir together mirin, soy sauce, vinegar, 1 tablespoon water, chives and

minced ginger. Set aside.

2. Fill 10-inch-wide straight-sided pan with stock, sliced ginger and enough

water so that liquid is 1 1/2 to 2 inches deep. Season with salt. Bring to boil.

Add leeks, and blanch until tender, for 3 to 5 minutes. Immediately plunge them

into ice water until cool. Drain well, pinching each leek to push out excess

water, and lay out in rows on kitchen towel. Top with another kitchen towel, and

press out as much water as possible. Repeat with green leaves.

3. Slice leek halves into 3-inch sections, discarding root end. Slice green

leaves lengthwise into 3/8-inch-wide strips. Tie each leek section in center

with strip. Cut off any excess strip.

4. In medium bowl, whisk flour with 1 cup plus 2 tablespoons water and egg yolk

to consistency of thick paint. Add more water or flour, if necessary. Season

with salt. Fill deep straight-sided pan with 2 inches oil. Place over

medium-high heat until bread cube added to oil browns in 1 minute.

5. Dip 2 or 3 leeks at a time into batter; coat well. Drain well; add to oil.

Fry until lightly browned on edges, turning once, for about 45 seconds. Take

care: leeks burn fast. Using slotted spoon, transfer to plate lined with paper

towels. Repeat with remaining leeks. Serve immediately with dipping sauce.

Yield: 4 appetizer servings.

 

 

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

 

 

Per serving (excluding unknown items): 113 Calories; less than one gram Fat (4%

calories from fat); 4g Protein; 21g Carbohydrate; 0mg Cholesterol; 2640mg Sodium

Food Exchanges: 1 Starch/Bread; 1/2 Vegetable

 

NOTES : Copyright 1999 The New York Times Company

http://www.nytimes.com/library/dining/100699leeks.html

 

_____

 

* Exported from MasterCook Mac *

 

The Onion That Won't Make You Cry

 

Recipe By : The New York Times Company

Serving Size : 1 Preparation Time :0:00

Categories : Information

 

Amount Measure Ingredient -- Preparation Method

-------- ------------ --------------------------------

***** NONE *****

 

By AMANDA HESSER

 

NEW YORK -- A walk through the Union Square Greenmarket in Manhattan last

Wednesday revealed an incongruous scene. The fizz of summer had gone flat but

had not quite disappeared. The piles of tomatoes had dwindled to a few crates of

forlorn fruits; there were no more crowds sorting through corn.

And yet there were new fall colors and new fall shapes elbowing their way into

the stalls: flame-orange squashes, celery roots and bulbs of crisp pale green

fennel. They seemed fresh and alive, there as much to push out summer as to

usher in fall. The regulars -- the serious cooks -- swarmed around these new

vegetables like bees.

But even they seemed to be missing one of autumn's gems: leeks.

When I lived in France, leeks were the only member of the onion family I

regularly had at hand to cook with. They grew all year round in Burgundy.

Sometimes the leeks were thin as a pencil, sometimes as thick as a baseball bat.

Their flavor seemed to change week by week.

I had to either expand my repertory or learn to eat a lot of vichyssoise, the

classic leek and potato soup, which, being American, was all I knew. I blanched

them. I sauteed them. I braised them. I roasted them. I made different soups of

them (pumpkin and leek, celery root and leek, bread and leek, and leek alone). I

used them as an aromatic. I served them on their own. And I never looked at

onions and garlic the same way again.

The fall crop began arriving at the Greenmarkets a few weeks ago. The long stiff

bulbs, which look like overgrown scallions, with wide ribbonlike leaves flopping

to their sides, lie in neat stacks among other root vegetables. But they often

get passed over in favor of onions, potatoes, even rutabagas.

Leeks are an important element in hearty autumn cooking, in soups, braises, warm

salads. To me, though, they are also one of the most extraordinary vegetables,

an aromatic and a great culinary tool.

Not enough cooks, chefs included, have tested the leek's worth. If they had,

they would find a gentle, sweet cousin to the onion, a vegetable that is

substantive and subdued, versatile and generous. It can blend with other flavors

or stand on its own.

A leek, it is true, is not as stunning as a Brandywine tomato or as noble as an

artichoke, but it is a sturdy, succulent staple, the kind of food that has

nourished people for millenniums. Leeks were a payment for workers building the

pyramids, a favorite of the Romans, the base of countless peasant dishes all

over Europe. And yet they have been a relative failure in America.

The leek's greatest (and practically only) culinary reference in this country

has been leek and potato soup, which Julia Child, in " From Julia Child's

Kitchen " (Knopf, 1970), described as " homemade soup in its primal beauty. "

Unfortunately, leeks never got much further in winning over American home cooks.

Why bother cleaning a leek when you can get a kick from garlic? Why buy

something so big when you can dice a small round onion?

But the opposite questions are worth asking, too. Why use something so pungent

as a shallot when you can get a clean, onion aroma and pretty green color from a

leek? Why cook onions for half an hour to mellow them when an older leek is

naturally sweet?

A young, twig-thin leek has a bright onion flavor and a fibrous quality to its

flesh, like asparagus. As it ages, the leek mellows and its leaves become

fleshier. It is lovely in every state.

Cut a leek and it will never make you cry. Cook it and it is even softer on the

senses. Leeks halved lengthwise are delicious braised in the oven in a little

stock with a touch of cream and butter. They wilt like a flower and become as

tender as a boiled potato; their layers resemble wood grain.

Likewise, they may be blanched, pressed dry in a towel and left to soak in olive

oil with a few herbs and perhaps a clove of garlic. They absorb the flavors and

harmonize them into a seamless, evolved dish.

Halved leeks may also be sauteed in oil or butter, then covered to finish

cooking. Their edges caramelize, underlining their sweetness, and their interior

softens. You can also add a little red wine to the pan to tint the layers of

leaves and stir up a fruity sauce.

The green leaves, which so often end up in the garbage can, have their own

value. They can be used to flavor stock, or blanched and used to line a

vegetable terrine, or wrapped around soft cheese, or sliced thinly and sauteed

like an onion as a base for corn chowder or a bean salad.

Along the East Coast, leeks are generally available for three seasons: fall,

winter and spring. The leeks being harvested now were planted in spring and

summer. They can stay in the ground for months and if the winters are warm

enough, can be covered with hay and left in the ground until spring, at which

point they will continue to grow.

Leeks, however, are not like mint. You cannot simply toss the seeds into the

ground and wait for a burgeoning crop to surface. Leeks take time and a lot of

care. As a leek develops, a grower needs to mound soil up around its sides. He

must do this again and again as it matures.

This blanches the base of the plant, making it white, tender, and, well,

incredibly dirty. As the leek grows, it gains more layers, and as dirt is hilled

up its sides, grit gets caught between each and every layer.

You can tell when a leek has been ignored. Its white stem will be stubby and

loosely layered, or its core stiff if it is allowed to grow too quickly or to

sit too long in the ground. A good leek should have at least five inches of

white flesh. It should be firm like a fresh onion, with vibrant and fleshy green

leaves.

 

The leaves were once used to lay on wounds as a salve. A broth of leeks has long

been considered a curative for maladies of the throat. The story is often told

that Nero drank so much leek broth to strengthen his voice that he was referred

to as " leek eater, " very likely a reference to his breath.

Perhaps it is this kind of historical detail that has deterred cooks. In truth,

the leek's history is not marked with great moments. There have been no leek

famines or moments of adoration such as the pea enjoyed in Louis XIV's court.

And yet, it has been a presence on tables from China to England for centuries

because it is meaty, flavorful and fortifying.

Leeks have sustained millions but have charmed few modern chefs. In fact,

professional cooks seem somehow averse to serving leeks on their own, and

instead use them more often as an aromatic.

At Judson Grill, for instance, leeks are in every soup base, though you would

never know it from reading the menu. The slippery, gelatinous substance in their

leaves gives a velvety texture and body to soup broths and sauces.

That is the quality Kerry Heffernan relies on to bind a pure leek terrine at

Eleven Madison Park. Blanched leeks are pressed into a terrine mold, weighted

down and sliced like bread, then dressed with a truffle vinaigrette.

Diane Forley, the chef at Verbena, is one of the few willing to go out on a limb

with it. She pairs braised leeks with steak and serves a Moroccan-influenced

leek salad of wheat berries, celery root and a turmeric vinaigrette with seared

sturgeon.

It is not a great stretch. Though leeks are most often associated with French

cooking, in Paula Wolfert's " The Cooking of the Eastern Mediterranean " (Harper

Collins, 1994), she includes a pork, tomato and celery dish from Macedonia,

which she describes as " smothered with leeks. " It is a pleasing image.

It is cookbook authors who are largely responsible for introducing leeks to

Americans. Ms. Wolfert has turned up many unexpected uses for them, like a leek

and yogurt soup with dried mint. Leeks have a place in Italian cookbooks, too.

In " Marcella's Italian Kitchen " (Knopf, 1986), Marcella Hazan shares a recipe

for pan-roasted pork loin with leeks. The leeks are the aromatic, the vegetable

and the sauce. It is a country dish at its pure, simple best.

Madeleine Kamman has written countless recipes for leeks: leek gratin, braised

leeks and leeks dressed with vinaigrette. She uses them with a French home

cook's sensibility.

These authors have traveled throughout Europe and the Mediterranean, where

bundles of leeks, with thick white trunks, tangles of blue-green leaves and long

wormy roots, are at every market.

" It's not just to put a little in to give a little taste, " Ms. Hazan said, " it

is a vegetable. " A vegetable, yes, that every cook ought to get to know.

PREPARATION:

Because leeks grow partially underground, they are dirty, with grit wedged

between their layers.

To trim a leek, cut off the root end at the point where it meets the white base.

Be careful not to slice into the layers. Cut off the green tops about two inches

above where the green begins. Cut the leek in half lengthwise.

Wash one half at a time. Hold the leek with the root upward under a running

faucet, then spread the leaves with your thumbs. Starting in the center and

working to the outside, they should fan out like a deck of cards. This lets

water to pass between the leaves and rinse out the dirt.

>Before Cooking, There's Cleaning

B ECAUSE leeks grow partially underground, they are dirty, with grit wedged

between their layers.

To trim a leek, cut off the root end at the point where it meets the white base.

Be careful not to slice into the layers. Cut off the green tops about two inches

above where the green begins. Cut the leek in half lengthwise.

Wash one half at a time. Hold the leek with the root upward under a running

faucet, then spread the leaves with your thumbs. Starting in the center and

working to the outside, they should fan out like a deck of cards. This lets

water pass between the leaves to rinse out the dirt.

 

 

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

 

 

Per serving: 0 Calories; 0g Fat (0% calories from fat); 0g Protein; 0g

Carbohydrate; 0mg Cholesterol; 0mg Sodium

 

NOTES : Copyright 1999 The New York Times Company

http://www.nytimes.com/library/dining/100699leeks.html

 

_____

 

* Exported from MasterCook Mac *

 

WARM LEEK AND POTATO SALAD WITH WALNUT DRESSING

 

Recipe By : The New York Times Company

Serving Size : 4 Preparation Time :0:30

Categories : Salads

 

Amount Measure Ingredient -- Preparation Method

-------- ------------ --------------------------------

1 pound small red-skinned potatoes

Kosher salt

1 egg

1 pound medium leeks -- trimmed, halved

lengthwise and washed

1 tablespoon minced shallot

1 tablespoon plus 1 teaspoon cider vinegar

4 teaspoons Dijon mustard

Freshly ground black pepper

5 tablespoons best quality walnut oil

1 tablespoon olive oil

1/3 cup walnuts -- toasted, chopped

1/3 cup flat-leaf parsley leaves -- packed

 

Time: 30 minutes

1. Place potatoes in small pan, cover with water, season with salt, and bring to

boil. Reduce heat, and simmer until tender when pierced with fork, for about 20

minutes. Drain, and set aside. Meanwhile, fill another small pan with water, and

bring to boil. Add egg, and boil for 9 minutes. Drain, and peel.

2. Fill 10-inch-wide straight-sided pan with water. Season with salt; bring to

boil. Add leeks; cook until tender, for 5 to 10 minutes. Drain. Lay leeks on tea

towel; roll it up to press excess water and keep leeks warm.

3. In small bowl, whisk shallot, vinegar, mustard, salt and pepper. Let sit for

5 minutes. Slowly whisk in oils until dressing is thick yellow and emulsified.

Taste; adjust seasoning (it should be highly seasoned).

4. Cut warm leeks diagonally into 1 1/2-inch pieces. Cut warm potatoes into

3/4-inch chunks. In large bowl, combine leeks, potatoes, walnuts and parsley.

Pour dressing over; with spatula, fold and mix well. Add more salt and pepper,

if needed. Transfer to serving bowl. With back of spoon, press egg through sieve

over salad. Serve while warm.

Yield: 4 servings.

 

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

 

 

Per serving (excluding unknown items): 117 Calories; 11g Fat (79% calories from

fat); 4g Protein; 2g Carbohydrate; 53mg Cholesterol; 79mg Sodium

Food Exchanges: 1/2 Lean Meat; 2 Fat

 

NOTES : Copyright 1999 The New York Times Company

http://www.nytimes.com/library/dining/100699leeks.html

 

_____

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FYI, definition of mirin from one of my macrobiotic cookbooks. " Mirin

is a relative of sake. In the case of mirin, sweet rice is mixed with

the wine, and after lengthy fermentation it is pressed and aged again

for six months to two years in ceramic containers. Many brands of

mirin, especially those sold in Asian food stores, are not naturally

brewed and are sweetened with added sugar or corn syrup. Most of the

mirin available in natural food stores is of a high quality, naturally

fermented and authentic. Check the label to be sure. " Juleen

 

******************************************

Visit my web page, " The Peaceable Kingdom " , at

http://members.tripod.com/~JuleenW/index.html

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