I was in search of a recipe the other day: something seasonal, fresh, inspirational. A struggle! We may have sprung forward on the clock, but in the market, we are in limbo. It’s the time of year when you can’t bear to roast another squash, and we wait for the soil to make way for the sprouts pushing their shoots up from below.
It’s the time of year when you’re not sure which coat to wear; has wool’s time passed? Can I take the snow brush out of my car? Is it too early to trade out the snow blower for the lawn mower? On Monday it’s 33 degrees and sleeting, by Wednesday, it’s 60 and sunny, and by Friday it’s gloomy and 38 again. Ah the Midwest!
The seasonal changes come at us in runners’ distances. Fall is a short 5K into winter and winter is a long grueling, 13.1-week half-marathon. Spring jogs a nice paced 10k into summer and summer is a wind sprint until the whole race starts all over again. We clutch the seasons and the farm bounty they yield.
As summer nears to a close, we spend weekends in the hot sun picking berries for freezing; we simmer peaches gently into jam. We pickle, we preserve, we eat too many tomatoes, all in hopes of hanging on to summer. By fall, we start snatching apples off the orchard’s trees; we harvest fall squash in too many varieties to count. We wear socks again.
By winter, we bundle up. It takes longer to get ready to go outside than the time we are actually outside, we roast brussels sprouts by the dozens, and include pumpkin in everything from coffee to desserts. We long braise pot roasts and Dutch oven day-long stews.
By mid to late March, the daylight is longer, the sun a little bit warmer. Stalks of tender asparagus, early spring peas, the sweet juice of the first strawberries, and the tart in red rhubarb are on our minds, not yet our plates. It’s funny that this time of year is Spring Break. We don’t need a break from spring, we need a break from winter as we long for spring!
There is one bright spot in winter, citrus. Mother Nature’s reward to dark and gloomy are the sunny globes of sweetness. Spicy, red-fleshed blood oranges, “eating orange” navels, ruby-red Cara Cara, best juice making Valencia, and the lemon and tangerine hybrid, Meyer Lemons are all seasonal during the coldest months of the year.
We think nothing of saving other seasons as they rush to their finale; blueberry jam, garden-fresh sauce, applesauce, pureed squash, why not save a bit of sunshine so rare to winter. Orange marmalade is bright, fresh and almost sunny when sitting on a shelf or in the refrigerator.
The most classic of all marmalades is made from bitter Seville oranges, a bit harder to come by than other varieties. I prefer to make mine with a mix of orange varieties and toss a couple of lemons in for good pucker.
What to do with this delightful batch of marmalade? Winter’s jam is more than just a slather on toast. Paired with golden honey, dried fruits, mustards, charcuterie and tangy blue, marmalade finishes a cheese board with the perfect combination of sweet, salty, bitter, and sour. A feast for the senses!
Jazz up your yogurt, swirl into oatmeal, bake it with brie. Add a splash to your pan sauce for chicken, add a spoonful to vinaigrette. Top your pancakes or waffles, stuff French toast. Melt it into a glaze for your Easter ham, spread a thin layer in a crepe, or dollop a spoonful on panna cotta.
Personally, I love marmalade on a grilled cheese. Buttery sourdough grilled just enough to crisp the exterior, melt the cheese, and warm the spread yielding the perfect ooze when pulled apart or sliced in half.
As we take our break from winter and anticipate spring, capture orange goodness. This recipe yields enough for you to enjoy and enough share. Spread a jar of sunshine.
You can marmalade quickly, and just as tasty in the pressure cooker or instant pot. Here are recipes for both cooking methods:
- 2 lbs. organic citrus (variety of oranges and or lemons), well washed, plus 2 more pieces of citrus
- ½ cup water
- 2 teaspoon olive oil
- 33% of the weight of the citrus
- 2 lbs. organic citrus (variety of oranges and or lemons), well washed
- 33% of the weight of the citrus
- Slice lemons using the "thin" setting on mandolin, discard ends or slices that are all pith. Stack slices, removing seeds as you go (save them for later, wrapped in cheesecloth or collected in a tea ball) and cut into four. Weigh the fruit on a scale and retain the number (you will use it later when determining sugar amounts).
- Squeeze enough juice from two additional citrus to equal ½ cup. Add the juice, a half a cup of water, and the oil to the pressure cooker. Close and lock the lid of the pressure cooker. Cook on high for 10 minutes (all cooker types) with natural release.
- While the citrus is cooking, weigh out the sugar, 33% of the weight of the citrus. After opening the cooker, heat the base to low heat (or warm setting on electric). Add the sugar and the tea ball or cheesecloth of seeds to the citrus, stirring well. Cook, stirring constantly, Until all the sugar is dissolved and liquified. Then turn the heat to high and bring the mixture to a rolling boil (uncovered). Boil, stirring constantly for five minutes or until marmalade sets. Remove seeds and transfer to a jar or appropriate vessel. Store in the refrigerator.
- Slice lemons using the "thin" setting on mandolin, discard ends or slices that are all pith. Stack slices, removing seeds as you go (save them for later, wrapped in cheesecloth or collected in a tea ball) and cut into four. Weigh the fruit on a scale and retain the number (you will use it later when determining sugar amounts).
My first attempt at making Focaccia di Recco was a colossal disaster. And it wasn’t because I used sugar instead of salt, or set the oven to broil instead of bake (yes, I’ve done both). No, this disaster was 100% because of a pan. More specifically, my favorite pizza pan with the little holes on the bottom.
Opening the door again, I was blasted with a full-on bellow of smoke so thick that I couldn’t even see across the room. And right on cue, my trusty smoke alarm began blaring it’s familiar song. Turns out I had nicked the bottom of the dough and created a cheese “escape-hatch” through (you guessed it) those little holes in my pan. I was left with an empty shell of a crust and 8 oz. of cheese on the bottom of my oven. I shut off the oven and ordered take-out.
In any profession there is continuing education. Sometimes it is required, other times it is inspired. Inspiration to learn something…just because. I often have these moments of inspiration in the kitchen. Sometimes I immerse myself in a unique cuisine or an underutilized ingredient. But I recently had a very unexpected inspiration to educate myself. There were a couple interactions that inspired me…
I spent a Saturday afternoon educating myself. My challenge was to develop a nutritional high protein convenience snack made with “real” food that tasted good. I needed variation in texture and depth in flavor. I tried sweet, I tried savory. I tried TVP – that’s where I drew the line. TVP, textured vegetable protein. This is the main ingredient in dishes like vegan “chicken nuggets” and vegan “beef tacos.” It provides the protein and texture without the meat. Uh, really? Not sure this qualifies as “real” food.
After many trials and an entire pantry of ingredients utilized, I finally landed on a snack I was pleased with. High protein, lactose-free, and no refined sugar mini muffin bites. Nice texture and good flavor. I sampled them to a few of my best critics. Thumbs up all around. Most importantly, my girlfriend with five kids loved them. Then she asked if she could leave out the egg and throw all the ingredients in a food processor to make them into “protein balls.” Nooooooo! Enough with the protein balls!
I’m freshly back and still unpacking from two glorious weeks in Florence and Tuscany. What an amazing destination for someone that loves wine and food!
We began the day with a tour of Florence’s Mercato Centrale, a feast for the senses, filled with scents, a riot of color and every imaginable cheese, meat and vegetable possible. We purchased the ingredients for our class and then returned to the restaurant where I worked alongside Sharon, one on one, to prepare a delicious lunch which we shared with my partner Michael and our friend Lynn, washed down with bottles of white and red Italian wine.
The culinary traditions in Tuscany run deep. We tasted the traditional Florentine dish peposo in several restaurants. The rich history of this dish goes back to the construction of the Duomo. Workers at the kilns in Imprunetta were producing the terra cotta tiles that cover the beautiful dome. Hunger was satiated with a hearty stew made from inexpensive cuts of beef that had been heavily peppered for preservation, thus the name peposo, derived from “pepe” or pepper. More pepper was added to help keep the stew even longer. The stew was cooked in massive clay pots in the same furnaces that produced the tiles. The labors ate the stew with plenty of bread and washed it all down with watered-down red wine.
In Florence and Tuscany today, peposo is served in virtually every restaurant. Rather than inexpensive beef, it is now prepared with much more luxurious cuts like beef short ribs or veal cheek, aromatic vegetables and plenty of good Chianti wine, served with a large bowl of Tuscan white beans and olive oil.
With the first chill of fall in the morning air, twelve or so other food adventurers and I boarded a small tour bus yesterday morning – courtesy of Marche – for the drive to Prairie Fruits Farm and Creamery in Champaign.
We toured their busy, working farm, got up-close-and-personal with the goats, and were served a lovely lunch under the trees with foods that were grown, harvested and created within yards of where we sat. Pretty freaking cool.
I’ve taught many classes at Marcel’s that feature Marche cheese in every course. The next class, celebrating autumn flavors is running October 10 (shameless plug, a few seats are still available!) Honoring small farmers and producers who respect our planet, and bringing attention to their efforts is a one of the most important things a chef can do. All you need to do to try some of Prairie Farm’s product is pop into Marche!
I love working with onions – the most common aromatic and essential ingredient that adds depth and flavor to so many dishes. The onion family includes bulb or globe onions, pearl onions, cipollini, shallots, leeks, scallions, chives and their cousin – garlic. Collectively they belong to a plant species called alliums.
I can guarantee this will yield uniform shaped pieces for even cooking, but I can’t guarantee you won’t be crying at the end. Cutting onions can cause watery eyes or even crocodile tears so guests also love this tip: Freeze the onion for 20 minutes before chopping – it helps contain the sulfuric compounds that make our eyes water.
I just returned from a week with extended family at my parent’s house in Michigan. With 90-degree heat, we minimized our use of the oven during meal prep for the 25 of us. Most of our cooking was done on the grill except for the enchiladas I had pre-made and frozen ahead of time. We were all happy that enchiladas cook in just 20 minutes! But the heat in the kitchen generated from the enchiladas was well worth it. These vegetarian enchiladas- made with shredded sweet potato and lentils- were enjoyed by all. It is a recipe I was refining for the Cooking for College Students class that I am teaching on July 18 at 6:30pm. Marcel’s College Cooking class is a perfect opportunity for young adults to learn together in the kitchen; it is always a lot of fun! Marcel’s hosts a college cooking class twice a year and this is the first vegetarian one we have offered. It has an amazing menu: Black Bean Avocado Mango Salad, Mexican Creamed Corn, Enchilada Casserole with Sweet Potato, and Coconut Rice Pudding. Please don’t miss it! 
Just like the cooking strategy my family and I had in Michigan, summer is always the ideal time to economize oven use. This Baked Honey Chicken is a recipe for success: cook once, eat twice. Essentially, use the oven once to produce two delicious meals. The chicken marinates for 1-4 hours before it’s baked for just 30 minutes. Half of this cooked chicken is then saved in the refrigerator for the next night’s dinner, 
When you sit down with someone and share their food, you are sharing their story. People are telling you something about themselves with each bite, each sip, each serving. No matter how small the size of the offering, the gesture is large, and the moment is magic.
Two young engineering students from a small village outside of Beijing invited us to their apartment to make dumplings. Multi-generational, mom and grandmother were visiting and deftly rolling out dumplings with the speed of a twelve-person assembly line. Every dumpling is the exact shape and size. Once all the dough was ready, it was time to fill. Their dumplings were perfect, beautifully shaped, properly proportioned. Ours, overstuffed and unable to close. With direction, “the dumpling is the purse, the meat filling the money. Don’t let the money fall out of the purse.” An “ah ha” moment for sure; our dumpling skills improved. The meal was set out on two card tables, served on paper plates, with lots of chairs crammed around the tables. Make room for what’s important, worry less about what’s not.
We invited some new tenants, a lovely Hispanic couple, over to teach us how to make tamales. We spoke with our hands, so we could understand one another. When I was about to add water in with the masa, my hand was tapped, and an index finger waved no-no. She pointed to the pot where the pork had slow cooked and then back to the masa bowl. Yes, of course! Water tastes like water, but pork juice tastes delicious!! We followed the leader and tied the husks. We counted hands and realized twelve hands make a hundred tamales easier than two. Share the work and it doesn’t feel like work.
May your purse hold money, your coffee cup never completely full, may you talk and taste with an open mouth, and eyes, with an open heart and mind. I know you’ll never leave hungry.
I haven’t always been so smart. For years, my wife Rondi and I would invite people over for dinner and brush off their “what can we bring?” with an immediate “Nothing! Just bring yourselves” response. Those four little words invariably led to four (or more) days of planning, prepping and preparing. 
The guest list eventually rose to 20 people, and as each guest was added to my growing list I simply asked them to bring their specialty. Marcie brought two fabulous flatbreads as our appetizer. Mindy was quick to claim the smoked ham. My sister Sarah brought her famous “Party Potatoes” (yes, that’s a real thing), Kay brought the lamb cake, and Nikki rounded out the party with Mimosa and Bloody Mary fixings.
As a chef instructor writing and testing recipes is one of the more tedious yet rewarding parts of my job. I don’t recall ever writing a recipe perfectly the first time. There is almost always a re-write, or two…or five. And, depending on the mood I am in or the recipe I am testing, sometimes the test is done on a controlled group of one (me!) or a large cackle of friends.
And although the recipe successes have outnumbered the failures…failures have existed. “I like the flavor, but the texture kind of makes me want to vomit.” That response is probably my favorite – that was definitely a “back to the drawing board” moment. Shout out to the “honesty”…but man that was a shot to the ego!