Preface: City!I don't think there's ever been a better time to live in a city. In just about every neighborhood, you can find dozens of interesting restaurants, gourmet food markets, farmers' markets and outdoor stalls selling seasonal produce, artisanal bakeries and cheese makers, and little shops stocked with shelves of amazing ethnic food specialties.
Don't think I have anything against small towns. I grew up in one and my mother would kill me if I said anything bad about our life there. In my books Weir Cooking, Recipes from the Wine Country, and Joanne Weir's More Cooking in the Wine Country, I write reverently about life in a pastoral California valley (where they just happen to make some of the best wines in the world, but still...).
Cities are where most of us live and something amazing is happening in them. New restaurants and markets are stocked with ingredients from all over the world; grocery shelves strain under the weight of specialty oils and vinegars; bins overflow with exotic grains and spices and dizzying arrays of fresh produce, breads, and meats.
Not surprisingly, our level of sophistication about ingredients, food, and wine is at an astonishing level. Our friends, our kids, for heaven's sake, know so much now about food. (I was in a supermarket delicatessen recently and watched a preschool-aged girl point at the dolmas and sushi with as much familiarity as I might have a peanut butter and jelly sandwich a generation ago.)
In the small New England town where I grew up, our choice of ethnic food was Chinese or pizza (and it wasn't very good at that), and the most unusual ingredient you could get at the market was, say, pickled herring. Nobody under the age of thirty will even believe that you couldn't buy coffee beans at the market then!
But all this sophistication comes at a price, and I think most of us would like things to be simpler, slower, easier. Wouldn't you like to be able to make food with a lot of style but without so much effort; to have friends over for dinner without having to plan it too many days in advance; to be able to entertain spontaneously for once; to be able to spend a whole day making something special and then leisurely enjoy it with people you care about?
I can help. You don't need more stuff to do. I can show you where to go and what to do to make fresh, delicious meals for every season and occasion. I'll give you ideas about how to talk to the fishmonger or butcher to get the best cut of meat or the freshest seafood. I'll show you how to pick the best wine for a dish or how to make the dish fit a favorite wine; how to incorporate specialty foods and how to put your own twist on ethnic recipes; how to entertain with greater ease and pleasure.
It all starts with learning to use the amazing cities we live in to their fullest. As I've traveled and cooked my way through many of the world's greatest cities, from Boston to Seattle to the cities along the Mediterranean and through Italy and France, I've learned to see the resources of the city much as a forager might, full of small treasures that are almost as much pleasure to seek as to find.
In San Francisco, where I live, I found one of the finest bakeries in the city just a few blocks from my house, and not much farther, a small, family-owned shop where I can buy the highest-quality meats and fish. Downtown, there is the new, permanent farmers' market where I can buy the very best produce from local organic farmers.
I can wander into Chinatown to my favorite place for Shanghai noodles and then into one of the tiny, crowded markets around the corner to buy all the ingredients to make my own at home. In the Italian neighborhood of North Beach, I found a bakery that sells fresh focaccia so now I can make my own panini. And in the Mission, I came across a produce stand selling the most beautiful Mexican limes and bouquets of cilantro for a dollar, and fresh plantains and plum tomatoes for a song.
When I make these trips through my city and into some of the neighborhoods that have been transforming themselves into mini food meccas, it's as though there is music playing in the streets. It's a city infatuated with food. As Julia Child said, "Who wouldn't become ravenous in such a place?"
But so it is everywhere. In my work as a teacher, I travel all over America and the world. I've seen it. Yeah, we're cooking in the city! This book honors all the amazing things that have been happening with food and the people all over this globe who are making our cities places where great food is being created and enjoyed and the differences between us are being celebrated and savored.
Most of you probably don't remember that old TV show that opened, "There are eight million stories in the naked city. This is just one of them." Well, I'm just one person, but millions of you are creating this incredible time in the life of cities. This is your book. Enjoy!
-- Joanne Weir
San Francisco
Spring 2004
Copyright © 2004 by Joanne Weir
From Chapter One: Firsts
Phyllo Pizza with Feta and Tomatoes
I have my favorite places in the city to get pizza; one is right in my neighborhood! I also love to make pizza at home and encourage you to try it if you haven't. But if making pizza dough still seems a little intimidating to you, instead of making yeast dough, make the pizza crust with sheets of phyllo, the paper-thin dough used in many Middle Eastern dishes and available in most grocery stores. If you can, buy the phyllo fresh rather than frozen (if you can only get frozen phyllo, defrost it in the package). When you are ready to make the phyllo pizza, remove the phyllo from the wrapper and cover it with a barely dampened kitchen towel (keep this on the whole time). Don't worry if some of the sheets are torn....Who's going to see it when it's between all those layers?
10 sheets phyllo dough3 tablespoons butter
3 tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil
3/4 cup coarsely grated mozzarella cheese (about 3 ounces)
3/4 cup finely crumbled feta cheese (about 3 ounces)
1/2 cup grated Kefalotyri or Parmigiano-Reggiano cheese
1 teaspoon dried oregano
Salt
4 scallions, white and green parts, thinly sliced
1 pint (2 cups) yellow, red, and orange cherry tomatoes, halved
Cut the stack of phyllo sheets in half widthwise to make 2 stacks approximately 9 inches by 12 inches. Cover the stacks with a barely dampened towel. Melt the butter in a small saucepan over medium-low heat. Add the oil and stir together. In a bowl, combine the mozzarella, feta, Kefalotyri, oregano, and salt to taste.
Preheat the oven to 400°F. Lightly oil a large baking sheet with the butter-oil mixture. Place one piece of phyllo in the center of the baking sheet. Using a pastry brush, lightly brush the phyllo with the butter-oil mixture. Place another layer of phyllo directly on top. Brush lightly with the butter-oil mixture. Repeat with one more layer. You now have three layers of phyllo on the pan. Sprinkle with a scant 2 tablespoons of the combined cheeses. Continue with three more layers of phyllo, brushing lightly with butter-oil between each layer. Sprinkle with another scant 2 tablespoons of the combined cheeses. Continue until you have used all of the phyllo. If the butter-oil mixture gets cold in the meantime, warm it on the stove.
Brush the top layer with the butter-oil mixture. Sprinkle with half of the remaining cheese. Sprinkle the scallions and then the tomatoes evenly over the top of the pizza, leaving a 1-inch border around the edge. Season the tomatoes with salt and sprinkle the remaining cheese on top. Trim the edges if desired.
Bake on the top shelf of the oven until the cheese is melted and the phyllo is golden and crisp on the edges, 20 to 30 minutes.
Serves 6
Wine suggestion: Pinot Gris, Pinot Grigio, Sangiovese, or Chianti
"For years, we've been walking to Chinatown for lunch. The custom began as a way of showing out-of-town visitors some of lower Manhattan. Starting out in the Village, we'd walk through the Italian South Village, through Soho...through Little Italy, and finally to Chinatown, where we'd have dim sum lunch." -- Calvin Trillin
Copyright © 2004 by Joanne Weir
From Chapter Three: Soups
Yellow Split Pea and Carrot Soup with Cilantro Yogurt
OK, what was it that Mark Twain said? "The coldest winter I ever spent was a summer in San Francisco." Boy, was he right. So even in the summer (when we are socked in with fog), I make soups of all kinds. And when I do, I make a big pot so I have leftovers. What to do with them? Simple; I just put the extra soup in plastic containers and pop them in the freezer. That way, I have an instant and delicious meal, whether it's for lunch on a day I'm working at home or an impromptu late-night supper with my friends.
1 1/2 cups yellow or orange split peas (about 10 ounces)1 tablespoon olive oil
3 medium carrots, peeled and coarsely chopped
1 medium yellow onion, coarsely chopped
1 1/2 teaspoons coarsely ground coriander seeds
8 cups chicken stock, vegetable stock, or water
Salt and freshly ground black pepper
1/2 cup yogurt
1/3 cup chopped cilantro
Pick over the split peas and discard any stones or damaged peas. Rinse the peas and drain.
Warm the olive oil in a soup pot over medium heat. Add the carrots, onion, and coriander seeds and cook, stirring occasionally, until the vegetables are soft, about 10 minutes. Add the stock and split peas, bring to a boil, reduce the heat, and simmer gently until the split peas are completely soft, 30 to 40 minutes.
Remove the soup from the heat. Let cool for 30 minutes. Working in small batches, puree the soup in a blender on high speed until smooth, about 2 minutes per batch. Thin with water or stock if the soup is too thick. Return the soup to a clean pan. Season with salt and pepper. Reheat the soup gently. Meanwhile, place the yogurt and cilantro in a bowl. Stir together. Season with salt and pepper.
To serve, ladle the soup into bowls, drizzle with the yogurt mixture and serve immediately.
Serves 6
Wine suggestion: Sauvignon Blanc, Pinot Gris, or Pinot Grigio
Baby, it's cold outsideRoasted Beet, Avocado, and Watercress Salad
Yellow Split Pea and Carrot Soup with Cilantro Yogurt
Cranberry Upside-Down Cake
Copyright © 2004 by Joanne Weir
From Chapter Four: Mains and a Few Sides
Roasted Cornish Hens with Toasted Bread Crumb Salsa
We served a salsa like this at Chez Panisse with everything from rib eye steaks to salmon. Its success depends on the best-quality French or Italian coarse-textured bread crumbs. Toast the crumbs in a 350°F oven, turning occasionally, until golden, 10 to 15 minutes.
6 Cornish hens, halved (1 to 1 1/2 pounds each)7 tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil
Salt and freshly ground black pepper
2 tablespoons white wine vinegar
1 cup toasted coarse bread crumbs
1/4 cup chopped fresh parsley
1 scallion, white and green parts, thinly sliced
2 anchovy fillets, soaked in cold water for 2 minutes, patted dry, and chopped
1 tablespoon capers, chopped
1 tablespoon grated lemon zest
1 clove garlic, minced
1/2 teaspoon chopped fresh thyme
1/2 teaspoon chopped fresh rosemary
Preheat the oven to 450°F. Arrange the hen halves in a single layer, skin side up, on a baking sheet. Brush the skin with 1 tablespoon of the olive oil and sprinkle with salt and pepper. Roast the hens until an instant-read thermometer inserted into the thickest part of the thigh registers 170°F, 30 to 35 minutes.
Meanwhile, in a bowl, whisk the vinegar and remaining 6 tablespoons olive oil together. Add the bread crumbs, parsley, scallion, anchovies, capers, lemon zest, garlic, thyme, and rosemary and toss together. Season with salt and pepper.
Remove the hens to a platter, top with the toasted bread crumb mixture, and serve immediately.
Serves 6
Wine suggestion: Sparkling wine, Chardonnay, or Pinot Noir
Copyright © 2004 by Joanne Weir
Warm Chocolate, Cinnamon, and Coffee Tart
Years ago in Mexico City, I tasted a tart like this and have thought about it ever since. One of the New World foods, chocolate has always been a favorite in Mexico (and everywhere else, for that matter), especially when it's paired with cinnamon and coffee. Try this combination of true Mexican flavors!
3/4 cup pine nuts4 ounces bittersweet chocolate, chopped
3 tablespoons unsalted butter, cut into 8 pieces
2/3 cup dark corn syrup
2 tablespoons granulated sugar
2 tablespoons Kahlúa or brandy
2 1/2 teaspoons instant espresso powder
3/4 teaspoon cinnamon
3 eggs
1 prebaked Short Crust Tart Shell
1 cup heavy cream
2 tablespoons confectioners' sugar
1/4 teaspoon vanilla extract
Preheat the oven to 350°F.
Place the pine nuts in a dry skillet and cook over medium heat, stirring, until golden, 1 to 2 minutes. Set aside to cool.
In a double boiler over medium-high heat, melt the chocolate and butter, stirring until smooth. In another saucepan over medium-high heat, stir together the corn syrup and granulated sugar until boiling. Add to the melted chocolate. In a small bowl, whisk together the Kahlúa, espresso powder, and cinnamon. Place the eggs in a large bowl and whisk until foamy. Add the Kahlúa mixture and whisk until well mixed. Add the chocolate and whisk until well mixed. Stir in the toasted pine nuts. Pour the filling into the prebaked tart shell and bake until a skewer comes out of the center clean, 35 to 40 minutes. Let the tart cool for 15 to 20 minutes.
Meanwhile, whip the cream to soft peaks. Add 1 tablespoon of the confectioners' sugar and vanilla and stir together.
Cut the tart into wedges, dust the top with the remaining 1 tablespoon confectioners' sugar and serve with the soft cream.
Serves 8 to 10
"Venice is like eating an entire box of chocolate liqueurs at one go." -- Truman Capote
Copyright © 2004 by Joanne Weir