Tuscan BAM! or Italian Seasoning

When my Omnivore and I were in Tuscany we went on a little pilgrimage to the butcher shop of Dario Cecchini and joined in his rollicking 10 am wine and lardo party (not kidding, for real...) before stumbling out into the sunshine with a giant cannonball of meatloaf and a small bottle of what we came to call "Dario's Tuscan BAM!" It was a powdered mix of spices that came in a miniscule jar that smelled heavenly and made everything we put it on taste like Italy.

Recently we were making Chicken Cacciatore in our fabulous slow-cooker. It was an easy, sort of semi-homemade recipe that called for the mysterious "Italian seasoning" that you get in a  jar at Safeway. Being that I was unwilling to purchase that--what the heck is in that stuff anyway and how long has it been sitting on a shelf?-- I did a little hunting online and came up with this instead. It's not quite the "Tuscan BAM!" but it tastes much better (i.e. not stale) than Safeway, that's for sure!

Italian Seasoning

3 tablespoons dried basil
3 tablespoons dried oregano
3 tablespoons dried parsley
1 tablespoon garlic powder
1 teaspoon onion powder
1 teaspoon dried thyme
1 teaspoon dried rosemary
¼ teaspoon black pepper
¼ teaspoon red pepper flakes

 Combine all ingredients in a spice grinder. Grind to a fine powder. Keeps 6 months in a sealed container.

Mulefoot madness: smoking and slow cooking

So we came up with a name for our potted ham hock, which my Omnivore had jokingly referred to as SPAM.

"But it's smoked and potted ham hock," I said.

"Spam, smam, smock?" he suggested.

"Spock?"

That one stuck. So it is now officially "Spock".


Here's the hock after brining for five days in a Wiltshire cure and then drying in our fridge for three more days. Right there, it tasted pretty fine. We trimmed a thin slice off the end and ate that. Then we trimmed off some more and ate that. Then we... Well you get the picture.

But we had a potted ham mission.


So into the stovetop smoker with a tablespoon each of oak and maple wood chips and smoke for 20 minutes.


At this stage also it was pretty fine. The color just kept getting better. But again we were on a mission.


So into the slow cooker with about five pounds of Manteca or lard and cook on low for twelve hours. The lard we used is the same that we've used for carnitas, which we cook in the manteca with orange peel, Mexican oregano, cinnamon and coriander, so even though we didn't spice the ham hock it wound up with a delicious spicy aroma.


And after 11 hours? Let's just say "falling off the bone." so good it's evil.


So we shred the meat with two forks and also pour the fat and juices into a bowl to chill overnight.

In the morning, final step--only ten days later. To begin, we run a knife around the inside of the bowl witht the fat and juices and invert the bowl. You should find the juices have not only separated from the lard but that they've also gelled into a tasty jello of pork juice. Peel off the pork jello and mix it into the shredded meat. If it seems a bit dry you can always add in some lard.

Spread on bread or crackers and enjoy-- we made them into little tea sandwiches which were DEE-lish.

- Posted from my iPhone

Duck treats

So we've decided that duck confit is just something we need to keep doing on a regular basis...It's ridiculously easy, and, as I mentioned to my Omnivore, it's the gift that keeps on giving.

Here's what we had for dinner the other night after I'd made the duck confit in the slow cooker (6 hours on low). My Omnivore came back from his Sunday afternoon gig and just inhaled when he stepped through the door.

From the pecans (toasted lightly) moving clockwise,

• a jar of garlic cloves (also slow cooked in the duck fat for six hours)


• a square jar of duck rillette (confit meat shredded and mixed with some of the duck jello left over from the slow cooking process)
• a crock of French Onion Soup (onions caramelized for an hour and a half)
• a little dish of Serra d'Estrella -- an unctuous fabulous sheep cheese from Portugal
• a small dish of shredded pickled beets (homemade with rice wine vinegar courtesy of Martha Stewart)
• some duck liver pate (homemade with Armagnac and truffle salt)
• some chicken liver pate (also homemade with armagnac and truffle salt)

So I used to make a sort of fancy overworked chicken liver pate, a recipe out of Saveur Magazine. But once I had some chicken liver pate made by the chefs at Postrio, and I was told it was just onions, liver, salt and pepper. It was then that I started to understand that it was all about technique. Here's how I make it now.

Chicken (or Duck) Liver Pate

• 1 lb chicken livers
• 2 Tbsp olive oil
• 1/2 cup finely diced onions
• 6 Tbsp cognac or Armagnac
• 8 Tbsp butter, softened
• salt and pepper to taste
• 1/2 tsp truffle salt

Clean the livers very carefully. Rinse them in cold water and paper towel them dry. Pull off any sinewy parts, blood vessels, anything stringy, even if you have to smush the liver a bit to clean it off. I've learned that this is the key to getting a good texture in the final pate.

Heat the oil in a skillet and saute the onions over a medium heat until they're golden brown. Add the livers and stir, until they're cooked through. Put the livers into a small bowl to cool, and add the cognac to the pan. Ignite to burn off the alcohol, and then cook over medium heat until the liquid evaporates.

Combine the onions and pan juices along with the butter and liver in a bowl and using a stick blender, blend thoroughly until completely smooth and creamy. Add truffle salt (I like to put in as many chunks from the salt as I can fish out) and pepper to taste. Transfer to a small crock or bowl that's nice enough to serve in and refrigerate until it's firm.

YUM.

Taco Party: Slow Cooker Carnitas redux, plus Fabulous Coleslaw

A little while ago Mr. Tarte Tatin asked if we'd cater a party in celebration of the Pajama Queen's graduation-- something fun that would go with margaritas. Tacos, do-it-yourself tacos, looked like the answer, especially since we expected to feed 50 people or so The Evite had terrifying said 150 people, but Mr TT assured us that only a third of them would show up. Better hope so, or everyone is only getting half a taco.

We've been honing the Carnitas recipe that I first tried about a month ago.

We made it much the same way as the recipe, but I have a secret. After cooking the meat seemed like it was drying out, so when we reheated it in the electric skillet (which we left on low for serving) we incorporated the pork "jello," the leftover juices that separated from the lard. When it coold it gelatinizes and it is unbelievably flavorful. So rather than waste it, we mixed it back into the shreeded pork and it is FAN-freaking-tastic.

With it, we got a box of fresh tortillas, made by hand and utterly scrumptious, from La Palma Mexicatessen, and to complete the "do-it-yourself" taco bar, there were bowls of crema, chopped onions, cilantro, shredded cheese and three kinds of salsa. Oh baby...

After the food, a rousing round of pinata fun.

Does it say something about the Pajama Queen's determination that she beheaded the poor thing on her first wild swing?

Do not get between her and dessert.

Along with the tacos we served a Cumin Lime coleslaw which was pretty yummy. This recipe started out life on Epicurious, but we made a few changes based on the helpful reciews people left and our own tastes.

Cumin Lime Coleslaw

3 medium carrots, peeled, finely chopped
6 cups shredded green cabbage (from 1 small head)
1 red bell pepper, cut into matchstick-size strips
1 red onion, thinly sliced
3/4 cup chopped fresh cilantro

1/3 cup fresh lime juice
1/2 teaspoon ground cumin
1 garlic clove, minced
1/2 teaspoon hot pepper sauce
1/2 cup olive oil

Drain. Cool completely. Transfer carrots to large bowl. Add cabbage, bell pepper, onion and cilantro.

Whisk lime juice, cumin, garlic and hot pepper sauce in medium bowl. Gradually whisk in oil. Season with salt and pepper. (Cabbage mixture and dressing can be made 8 hours ahead. Cover separately; chill. Rewhisk dressing before continuing.)

Toss salad with enough dressing to coat. Season with salt and pepper; serve.

Slow Cooker Carnitas

Take that swine flu.

Yesterday I bought some pork shoulder and we sprinkled it with spices, let it sit overnight, and then this morning, while I worked on my deadline, I popped the chunks into the slow cooker with some lard--yes LARD-- and set it and forget---erm...forgot it.

Well, I guess strictly speaking I didn't forget it because the aroma was something crazy.

The "recipe" I used was cobbled together from reading lots of different versions of how to make carnitas. I suppose purists will probably say it's pretty inauthentic, but um... it tastes really freaking good.

Pork Carnitas, My Style

4 lbs pork shoulder (butt) cut into large 4-5 inch chunks and excess fat trimmed)
1 Tbsp Mexican oregano (try to get Mexican oregano specifically, which is different from Greek oregano)
1 tsp ground coriander
Salt and pepper
3 long pieces of orange rind
3 bay leaves
2 sticks cinnamon

About 1 lb of lard (manteca) try to use fresh lard with no preservatives if possible.

Cut and trim the pork shoulder, sprinkle it with oregano and coriander and liberal amounts of salt and pepper. Put it in a non- reactive bowl with the bay leaves, cinnamon and orange rind and cover. Refrigerate overnight.

The next morning melt the lard. Put the pork and seasonings in the slow cooker (including the cinnamon, bay and orange rind). Pour over the melted lard and set the cooker for 6 hours on low.

When the cooking is done, remove the pieces gently from the lard (they will be fragile, so a slotted spoon might be helpful) and put them in a bowl, discarding the cinnamon sticks, bay leaves and orange rind. Shred the meat with two forks.

Yum.

Already the slow cooker has gotten a lot of action.

We made duck confit -- fabulous fabulous way to do it, in the slow cooker. It's basically the same recipe as our original version, but instead of the oven, we put it in the slow cooker set to low and let it go for six hours. Falling off the bone good...

We also tried Nook and Pantry's idea for Duck Rillette.

When you make confit, there's always a nice layer of juices and gelatin that forms from the slow cooking. When you separate out the duck fat -- especially if you like to save the duck fat for future use as I do--you try to solidify the leftovers and you get a layer of what I like to call Duck Jello. Extremely yummy and flavorful duck jello.

Take that and mash it up with some duck fat and shredded duck confit meat to make a fabulous spread that's great on country bread with mustard and cornichons.

We confit the neck, which I know sounds stupid, but I hate wasting anything, and even though there are lots of bones in the neck, there's also lots of meat. We pull the skin off the neck, cut it up and render the fat from the skin, and confit the neck with everything else. Since you have to shred it to get it off the bones anyway, that meat makes a perfect addition to the rillette pate.

Mamma Mia!: A Pasta Tasting

Don't worry, no ABBA here. But plenty of happy food...

Over the weekend we did a pasta tasting for ten at the elegant home of Ms. Five-and-a-Half and Mr. Thirteen. Inspired somewhat by the experiences my Dad and I had in a very sociable evening at Babbo's in New York, we decided to feature five different styles from all over Italy, including casunziei from the Veneto, fregola from Sardinia, spaghettini nero di seppia (popular in coastal regions like the Amalfi coast), homemade pappardelle, and ravioli di zucca which are often found in the Lombardy region.

Here's what I love about these dinners (and we've done so many of them over the years with Mr. Thirteen and Ms. Five-and-a-Half)--everyone is into it.

It's always such a pleasure to cook for creative people. No one asks us why anyone would go to so much trouble to fit the food into a theme like "The Elements" or "Wilderness" or "Summer," no one objects to strange ingredients and unusual flavors. On the contrary, the guests who've come to these dinners enthusiastically add in their own creative touches. The table above, for instance, is another of Ms. Five-and-a-Half's wonderful concoctions, inspired by Italian trattorias. She also called in the help of our Renaissance Man,who had so kindly lent his Faberge candlesticks to our Ah Wilderness efforts. He brought the dramatic candelabra in the center of the table and made the elegant Venetian plaster placecards.

Everyone knows that we make fancy menus for each dinner, and for our "Mamma Mia" theme, all of our guests--including The Cowgirls and Ms. Jersey Girl, who was there for our very first fancy dinner-- obliged me (or maybe humored me) by sending me reminiscences about cooking with Mom. Even The Garden King, a writer for the SF Chronicle sent along a dry, one line contribution about trying to forget the times his mother cooked, which sparked a great story at dinner.

I'm always afraid I've pushed people to far in trying to involve everyone in our themes, but when I joking mentioned another idea I'd had for an "Alice in Wonderland" dinner to the Garden King, he immediately said, "Well, you must have everyone come in costume!"

Really, I asked? Do you think people would do it?

"They must," he replied simply. Well... after all, I thought, Mr. Loving Green came dressed in a green ensemble that was in perfect harmony with this dinner's theme.

Incidentally, Mr. Green also immediately identified the artist whose work graced the cover of this event's menu, Giuseppe Arcimboldo. In case you haven't seen this one, it's called the Vegetable Gardener, and if you turn it around, the bowl of vegetables become a portrait.

I love Arcimboldo's work, maybe for the same reasons of whimsy that I like themes for our dinners... I've also only just noticed that when you invert my Omnivore's placecard you get the same letters as my initials.

But back to cooking...

Our intrepid hosts have recently added to their well-stocked kitchen a set of pasta rolling attachments for their KitchenAid and we decided that this was the perfect opportunity to christen it.

In my flurry of pre-prepping all the food and raviolis, I hadn't had a chance to make the dough for the pappardelle, which we intended to make fresh and cut by hand. Plus my long-suffering Omnivore was still down and out with a cold --and heavily lamenting the fact that he wasn't able to do anything but hold our rickety table steady while I rolled out the raviolis.

But since Mr. Thirteen hasn't made pasta dough before, this seemed like a good chance for him to both step in to cover and get some hands on experience, so he gamely tied on an apron and got to work. Perhaps it did help that we handed him a glass of wine too.

And the KitchenAid? It's a dream. You have no idea. I flail with our sturdy and very nice Imperia. It's a great, serviceable pasta machine, but we have nothing in the entire house that we can firmly clamp it to, so rolling out dough is a chore of unimaginable frustration.

The KitchenAid, on the other hand, just sits there as nice as you please, with its roller humming along. One person can roll out the dough one handed if need be!

Plus, Ms. Five-and-Half and Mr. Thirteen also have a perfect pasta drying rack AND the space to set it up.

As usual, getting ready for the Pasta extravaganza was a project of several days' duration. Though it was certainly a lot less trouble than the Ah, Wilderness dinner back in January, we still had our obstacles to overcome. Where do you get squid ink pasta, for instance and how do you match wine to things that may have balsamic vinegar and maple smoke flavors?

For wine, our go-to gal is Ceri at Biondivino, and if you love Italian wine, you must check out her store. No matter what crazy schemes we're cooking up, she always is game for the challenges. This time, I handed her one of the menus and amazingly she was able to recommend a terrific Mattei Barbera as well as the refreshingly fizzy Fallegro, a white that has its own natural, appealing effervescence. Not pictured below is the Perticaia Umbrian Rosso, a mostly Sangiovese, part Colorino, part Merlot blend that, as promised, worked well throughout the whole night. (Added into the mix were some fab Italian treats from The Garden King, courtesy of a previous wine tasting.)

Mamma Mia! Pasta Tasting Menu

Casunziei
Chevre & Ricotta Beet Ravioli with Poppy Seed Butter

Fregola
with Maple Smoked Scallops

Spaghettini Nero di Seppia
with Parsnips & Pancetta

Handmade Pappardelle
with Ragu Bolognese and Herbed Ricotta

Ravioli di Zucca
Sweet Potato Ravioli with Arugula & Caramelized Anjou Pears in Brown Butter

Gorgonzola Piccante from Cowgirl Creamery
with Honey, Walnuts and Balsamic Marinated Cranberries

Cappuccino Mousse
in Chocolate Cups with Fresh Raspberries and Ladyfinger

* * *

First course was Casunziei (Casunzei? Casunzie?... Beet ravioli). I first saw this at Mario Batali's place, and strictly speaking, they are ravioli filled with beets and potato, but I had already decided that wanted something a little different. I've always been obsessed with how beautiful the color of beet pasta dough is, so we decided to change things up a little and make beet ravioli stuffed with chevre and ricotta, but still garnished with poppy seeds and parsley like traditional casunziei. Oddly enough the beet flavor really came out with the added greenery and the crunch of the poppy seeds made a huge difference between a nice dish and a really elegant unusual one.

Casunziei

Serves 8 as a main course

• 1-1/2 cups fresh ricotta (about 12 oz.), drained 30 min.
• 1-1/2 cups goat cheese (about 10 oz.), at room temp.
• 2 tablespoons finely chopped fresh chives
• Coarse salt and freshly ground pepper
• Fresh Beet Pasta Dough (see below)
• Semolina flour or fine cornmeal, for dusting
• 2 tablespoons coarse salt
• Extra-virgin olive oil, for drizzling
• 6 tablespoons unsalted butter
• 2 tablespoons poppy seeds
• Parsley, chiffonaded into thin ribbons

Stir together cheeses and herbs; season with salt and pepper.

Using a pasta machine, roll out the pasta to the thinnest setting and then cut the sheets into 4-inch rectangles. Place a scant tablespoon of the beet and ricotta filling on one half of each rectangle, then brush the egg wash as an adhesive around edge, fold them over like a book to enclose the filling and press the edges of each ravioli to seal. Transfer ravioli to sheet, and cover with a kitchen towel. Repeat with remaining pasta dough and filling. (Freeze ravioli in a single layer on a baking sheet, about 15 minutes, and then pack between layers of parchment in an airtight container and store for up to 1 month. Do not thaw before cooking.)

Bring a large pot of salted water to a rolling boil. Add salt and half of the ravioli. Cook, stirring occasionally to separate, until edges are just tender, about 4 minutes. Using a slotted spoon, transfer to a colander to drain. Drizzle with oil, and toss gently to coat. Transfer to a bowl, and loosely cover to keep warm. Repeat with remaining ravioli.

Meanwhile, melt butter in a small saucepan over medium heat it is dark golden brown and has a nutty aroma, about 4 minutes. Divide ravioli among plates. Spoon brown butter over ravioli and serve immediately garnished with poppy seeds and a chiffonade of parsley.

Beet Pasta Dough

• 1 medium beet
• 4 cups flour
• 2 medium eggs and 1 egg yolk
  
• 1/2 teaspoon extra-virgin olive oil

Roast beet in a 375F oven for 45 minutes until tender. Peel, puree and beat with 2 eggs and 1 egg yolk.

Mound the flour in the center of a large wooden cutting board or baking sheet. Make a well in the middle of the flour and add the eggs and the olive oil. Using your fingers begin to incorporate the eggs into the flour, starting with the inner rim of the well.

As you expand the well, keep pushing the flour up from the base of the mound to retain the well shape. The dough will come together when half of the flour is incorporated.

Start kneading the dough with both hands, using the palms of your hands. Once you have a cohesive mass, remove the dough from the board and scrape up and discard any leftover bits. Lightly reflour the board and continue kneading for six more minutes. The dough should be elastic and a little sticky. Wrap the dough in plastic and allow to rest for 30 minutes at room temperature.

The Scallops and Fregola we've made betfore, but we just loved the maple-smoking flavor, so we included it, even though I usually prefer to do new dishes that we've never done beofre.

This balsamic was the 12 year Elsa, a very nice, sweet balsamic. We did reduce it to a syrupy glaze and though it was the sort of thing that kills wines, it was spectacular with the smoke.

Originally we'd intended to do Tagliatelle with parsnips and pancetta, another Babbo specialty. But since squid ink is hard to come by (and hard to manage), we opted for the pre-made spaghettini nero di seppia. Earthy still and unusual, but a I looked around the room, I could see that folks were slowing down already. Two more pasta courses...

For the Pappardelle with Ragu Bolognese, I started with Marcella Hazan's classic Bolognese as a base. I've read a lot over the years, but oddly this was the first time that I really committed to making this meat based sauce in the time-honored, time-consuming way.


Also, we finally got the new SLOW COOKER!! It's the Hamilton Beach programmable cooker, and I am in love with it. You can cook Bolognese in it for eight hours... True I started out the veggies and meat in the pot on the stove, to get things browned and started, but after getting the wine absorbed into the meat, I transferred everything to the slow cooker and let her rip.

Marcella knows her business, of course. We did add a dash of ground cloves and nutmeg and coriander because I like an aromatic spicy flavor.

Also a goodly dollop of ricotta mixed with chives added a nice creaminess to the finished dish.

Our final pasta dish of the evening (and we were all pretty stuffed by this time), was a reconstruction of the dinner we had when we took Eric's Mom out to the Summit at the Broadmoor in Colorado Springs: Sweet Potato Ravioli with Caramelized Anjou Pears in Brown Butter with Fines Herbes. It's an odd and unusual idea, but I liked having the sweet of the ravioli filling with the intensely dark flavor of the caramelized pear.

After that though, we had my favorite course, a nicely spreadable Gorgonzola Piccante with walnuts and cranberries marinated in balsamic.

The Gogonzola is stronger than the usual Gorgonzola Dolce, which has a creamy texture. The bite of this one was perfect for me though. And Ms Cowgirl brought along a little extra treat of dessert wine.

"I've had it for a little while," she confided, "But you have to have at least ten people before you can open up a dessert wine, right?"








Last item? Cappuccino mousse in a chocolate cup from Bissinger's. Frankly I was a little bit at a loss as to what would make a light finish to this meal. I thought I wanted the mousse, but when I saw the chocolate cups in Sur La Table, I knew we had it.

Top it with a raspberry and throw in a homemade ladyfinger cookie and we're good to go.

=================================

We're often asked at the fancy do's, whether we eat like this all the time. to which I say, HAHAHAHAHAHA!

Here was dinner last night. That's the beauty of San Francisco -- a fine, fine pizza -- sundried tomatoes, extra garlic and sausage--is only a phone call away.

Sunday Dinner at Mom's

Going home for My Omnivore, as he is fond of reminding me, means going to Colorado Springs, not New York.

We arrived in April, My Omnivore assuring me that the weather would be great--"you'll love it!" Wait...where have I heard that before?

Part of the charm of coming home, if you can call it charm, is finding out what's changed and apparently alot-aLOT has changed in Colorado Springs which is now sprawled out vastly to the east and includes not only Petersen Air Force Base and Focus on the Family, but also two Whole Foods and a fine wine store in Colorado Liquor Outlet, where we picked up a couple of bottles of Magness Estates Merlot (a local winery that sources their grapes from the same place in Napa that Pahlmeyer does according to our helpful sales person) and the Pine Ridge Chenin Blanc/Viognier that I like so much. My Omnivore found himself confused and quite lost just getting to our hotel on roads that never existed in his childhood.

Some things remain in the same place though -- including the church of his childhood, Good Shepherd. It's not the small place he remembered though. New extensions, new windows, new buildings-- we wandered around the place with him exclaiming at every corner, much like I do in New York --"Wait that used to be the really good Glatt deli!!! And where is the Red Apple market??" Well, okay, so he didn't use those exact terms... but it was just like that...

One of the most beautiful new additions to the church are the stained glass windows created by Loy Jones, the father of one of Eric's childhood friends. When he and his wife Betty came over for dinner later, he brought along the pictures of the process from start to finish. I couldn't help thinking how marvelous it must be to be able to do something like that -- a craft that people have been practicing for centuries in much the same fashion.

The night we arrived the church was also putting on their "Living Last Supper" a reenactment of Dinner In The Upper Room. It seemed so fitting, seeing as we were already planning our own supper (though not the last one, by a long shot.)

One of our great aspirations was to make a nice dinner for My Omnivore's mom. So it was that on a snowy Palm Sunday (!! April? Yes, it's April...yes... April...), we imposed on Mom to pull out her slow cooker, picked up a couple of chickens at the local Whole Foods and made dinner for her and a few of the friends that Eric knew from childhood.

On the menu:

• Mixed olives
• Haystack Mountain's Snowdrop Goat Cheese
• Coq au Vin (recipe here)
• Smashed Yukon Gold Potatoes
• Brussel Sprouts with Lemon & Parmagiano (recipe below)
  
• Tarte Tatin with Sweetened Sour Cream (recipe here)
  

We picked a fabulous Colorado goat cheese from Boulder's Haystack Mountain called "Snowdrop," which I've had before, but never quite so fresh or quite so delightful.

Haystack also makes a number of other cheeses which I wish we'd had time to try. The Snowdrop has a firm dry center with a deliciously gooey, runny outside held together by a salty washed rind.

Speaking of delicious, I'm in love with Mom's slow cooker. Over the past few years, I've thought off and on about getting one, but now after hearing both Mom and My Omnivore's sister enthuse about how you can chuck your soup/stew/roast into the slow cooker, leave for work and come back eight hours later with dinner ready to go and the house smelling all fabulous--well, let's just say, I'm seriously thinking about some options.

Plus, the slow cooker doesn't have to take up valuable countertop-- you can plug it in anywhere--the bathroom, say-- and let it go about its business while you enjoy your kitchen counterspace.

Brussel Sprouts with Lemon & Parmagiano

20-25 Brussel sprouts (choose heads that are firm and tight)
4 slices of thick cut bacon, chopped into small pieces
1 lemon
about 1/2 cup grated Parmagiano-Reggiano or Pecorino cheese
Salt and pepper to taste

Rinse and sort the Brussel sprouts removing any dead or dried out leaves, then slice into thin coins/ribbons, about 1/4" wide.

In a skillet or saute pan, cook the bacon over a medium heat until the bacon is cooked through (about 5 minutes) and some of the fat has rendered into the pan. Add the Brussels and lower the heat to medium low, stirring and cooking for about ten to fifteen minutes until the Brussels are softened. Squeeze the juice of one lemon over the Brussels and add salt and pepper to taste.

Put the Brussels into a serving bowl and sprinkle about 1/4 cup of Parmagiano over the top. Serve with extra cheese on the side.

Rounding out the meal was the ubiquitous Tarte Tatin. My Omnivore has a habit of requesting this dessert at every meal we make. I roll my eyes, but make it for him, because, after all, it is a pretty good recipe.

We used Braeburns and Golden Delicious apples this time, and I'm happy to report, there wasn't a speck left over after the dinner.