Magic Pan Redux

In the mid 70s, when my sister Robin was studying the harp at Boston University and I was just beginning my career as an advertising copywriter, we lived together on the first block of Marlborough Street. (Trust me, it was not the ritzy address it is today!) Just two blocks over, on Newbury Street, was one of our favorite restaurants, the iconic Magic Pan, scene of many wine-soaked ad lunches and festive dinners with our mother. (I much preferred it to the creperie just a few blocks away on Boylston Street, where the fare was much more authentic, as I discovered to my dismay, the first time I ordered crepes in France.

Like fondue in the 60's, crepes were a dish of an era. Eventually, the Magic Pan went out of business; though we hung on for a while longer, making our own with the crepe maker our father had given Robin one Christmas. It wasn't until many years later, when our parents moved to Portsmouth, and we discovered the small Maine shrimp, that we remembered just how much fun it was to make crepes.

The shrimp reminded me of my favorite Magic Pan crepes, the Coquille St. Jacques, which despite the name were made with shrimp and mushrooms, in addition to scallops. (Despite being gone for nearly 20 years, the Magic Pan has a fanatically loyal fan base of customers and employees who have a web site called the Magic Pan Project, where you can find all sorts of recipes. It's where I learned that the recipe for spinach souffle crepes begins "Take Stouffer's frozen spinach souffle..."!)

Armed with with our trusty crepe maker and an understanding of the basic ingredients: béchamel sauce, sherry, gruyère cheese, we set out to recreate the Magic Pan Coquille St. Jacques crepes -- minus the mushrooms and ironically, the scallops. It was a hit, and we've made them once a year or so ever since.

Robin uses the crepe recipe in From Julia Child's Kitchen, and I use Julia's béchamel recipe as a foundation for making the sauce. Then we briefly saute the shrimp in butter and shallots, fold them into the sauce along with the sherry and the cheese, sprinkle a little parsley and more sauce on top, and voila, the magic is back!

Crepes Au Maine Baby Shrimp
(Makes 12 crepes)

For the crepes: (From Julia Child's Kitchen)
Ingredients
3 "large" eggs broken in a 4-cup measure (or a bowl)
2/3 cup milk
2/3 cup water, plus droplets more if needed
1/4 teaspoon salt
3 tablespoons dark sesame oil or peanut oil, plus peanut oil for greasing the pan.
1 cup Wondra flour

Note: you'll also need a wire whip, a 5 1/2 inch pan, preferrably non-stick, and 24 wax paper squares, 6 inches to a side to keep the cooked crepes separate.

This recipe makes more crepes than you'll need, which means you need not despair if it takes you a bit to get the hang of making them. You can refrigerate or freeze the leftovers for another use.

Directions
1. Beat eggs to blend whites and yolks, then beat in liquids, salt, and oil; gradually beat in flour. Let stand 20  - 30 minutes (or longer, if need be, in the refrigerator.)
2. Place pan over moderately high heat and brush lightly with oil. (This is usually only necessary for the first crepe.) Test temperature of the pan with a few droplets of water. It should sizzle when ready.
3. Pour 2 tablespoons of batter into a ladle or big spoon, then, grasping the handle of the pan -- use a pot holder or better yet, a heat-proof sleeve -- pour the batter into the center of the pan. Immediately tip the pan rapidly to spread the batter all over the bottom surface. Set directly on the burner -- bubbles should appear immediately, if not the pan is not hot enough.
4. Cook about a half minute or until an edge when lifted is brown underneath; when you shake the pan hard, the crepe will usually come loose. Flip the crepe over on its other side. Cook 15 to20 seconds more. (This is the inside of the crepe, so don't worry if it doesn't brown.) Place a wax-paper square on a plate and slide the crepe onto it and cover with another wax paper square.) Don't worry if the first crepe is not a beauty -- it may take several practice crepes to get the right temperature, batter amount, and technique. Crepes should be no more than 1/16 inch thick, and they should be light and delicate in texture, with enough body to hold together, so they can be rolled and filled. If batter is too thick, you can thin it by beating in more water by droplets. Repeat with remaining batter.

For the sauce (From Julia Child's Kitchen)
(Makes 2 cups)
Ingredients
2 cups milk (heated to just below simmer)
2 tablespoons butter
3 tablespoons flour
Salt and pepper to taste
2 ounces gruyère
1 tablespoon dry sherry
(Note: I add a tablespoon of minced shallot as the butter melts)

Directions
In a heavy bottomed saucepan, melt the butter, add shallots (if using), then blend in flour with a wooden spatula. Stir over moderate heat until butter and flour foam together for 2 minutes without coloring more than a buttery yellow. Remove from heat, pour in all the milk at once and beat vigorously with a wire whip to blend roux and liquid. Add salt and pepper. Blend in cheese and sherry. If the sauce is too thick, you can add a little more milk.

For the filling:
Ingredients
1 tablespoon butter
1 lb. Maine shrimp, shelled and cleaned
1 large shallot, minced

Directions
1. Saute the shallots in butter until just soft. Add the shrimp and heat until just warm.

To finish the crepes:
(If desired, you can add 1 oz. of parmesan cheese to the sauce that goes on top of the stuffed and rolled crepes and sprinkle the finished dish with minced parsley.

Directions
1. Preheat oven to 400 degrees.
1. Coat the shrimp mixture with sauce, so it is creamy, but not soupy. Reserving remaining sauce, adding 1 oz. of parmesan, if using.
2. Lay each crepe worst side up. Spread with a genereous amount of filling, keeping in mind how many crepes you are making. Fold  and arrange in a greased ovenproof dish, big enough to hold all crepes in a single layer. Top the crepes with the remaining sauce and heat in oven for ten minutes, then serve, topped with minced parsley, if desired.

Not Just Floundering Around

In his graduate school and bachelor days, my brother-in-law Dave had two requirements for potential roommates. They had to own a stereo and had know how to cook. So it's pretty amusing that Dave has become the kind of person who cures his own bacon and pastrami, makes homemade sausage and pasta, and bakes his own bread. He not only loves to cook, he loves to invent his own recipes. Like he did the other night, for one of his Friday night dinners.

This tradition began when Dave took a new job that was equidistant from Boston and Portsmouth. Friday nights, he would head to Portsmouth after work, stop at the store and start dinner, while my sister Robin and I made the drive up from Boston. When we arrived, dinner preparations were underway, wine would already be poured, and some kind of little pre-dinner snack would be waiting on the kitchen counter. It was very welcoming, and now, whoever gets to Portsmouth first tries to replicate it.

Friday night dinners are usually straightforward -- after all, we want to be finished eating in time to watch Numbers on TV. But in both thought and execution, these meals frequently display an adventurous spirit. Last week, Dave had been talking about making something with the local-caught flounder we've been seeing regularly at Philbrick's Fresh Market in Portsmouth. Fortunately that Friday night, there was not just flounder at Philbrick's, but Maine baby shrimp as well.  Right on the spot, Dave decided he'd make flounder with a shrimp stuffing for dinner. While it sounds elaborate, his preparation was actually quite simple.

First, Dave took three flounder fillets, put some baby shrimp on each one, rolled them up and secured them with some kitchen twine, seasoning them with a little salt and freshly ground pepper. Next, he sweated some chopped scallions in about 4T of butter over low heat, until they started to get soft. Then, he turned the heat in the skillet to medium high and added the flounder fillets.  When they were just browned, he added some vermouth to deglaze the pan and create a little sauce. When the fish was just about cooked, he removed it, added the juice and zest of one lemon, plus a lot of tarragon, maybe 1/8 of a cup to the pan. He swirled it around to combine, then put the fish back into the pan, sprinkled some bread crumbs on top and put into a 425-degree oven to crisp up the bread crumbs.

Served with some roasted potatoes, sauteed kale, and a salad, it couldn't have been better, easier, or healthier. If you live near the NH Seacoast, there are now a number of places to buy locally-caught fish and shrimp. Contact the Yankee Fishermens' Co-op at 603) 474-9850  or Eastman's Fish in Seabrook (603-760-7422) to find the place nearest you. Or look for wild-caught flounder and shrimp at your local seafood market.

Dave's Flounder Stuffed with Maine Baby Shrimp
(Serves 4)

Ingredients
1 pound of baby Maine shrimp, cleaned and shelled. (You can also use regular shrimp, but you should chop and saute them first for about two minutes as they probably won't cook through the way the Maine shrimp will when stuffed in the flounder.)
4 flounder fillets, cleaned and skinned
1 big bunch of scallions, finely chopped, both white and green parts
4 T butter
1/4 cup vermouth or white wine
Zest and juice of 1 lemon
1/8 cup of tarragon, chopped
1/2 cup of fresh bread crumbs (not packaged)
Salt and freshly ground pepper to taste

Directions

1. Preheat oven to 425 degrees.

2. Put the flounder fillets on a clean surface. Put 1/4 of the baby shrimp on each fillet, roll them up and secure with kitchen twine. Season with salt and pepper to taste.

3. Put 4 T of butter in an oven-proof saute pan big enough to hold all the flounder filets in one layer. Sweat the scallions over low heat until they start to get soft.

4. Turn up the heat to medium high and add the flounder fillets. Cook until just browned on all sides. Add the vermouth and cook until the fish is almost done.

5. Remove fish, add lemon juice, zest, and tarragon to the pan. Swirl to combine.

6. Add the fish back to the pan, sprinkled some bread crumbs on fillet and put into the oven until the bread crumbs are just crisp.

Chili With a Spicy Beet

Late Saturday afternoon, Robin, Dave, and I journeyed from Portsmouth NH to Marlborough, MA to have dinner with our friend, Candace. On the way, we stopped at Heron Pond Farm in South Hampton, NH to pick up our semi-weekly Winter CSA share. From an eating perspective, this CSA has been one of the best things we have ever done. In combination with the Seacoast Grower's winter farmers' markets, we've been able to enjoy fresh-from-the-farm vegetables and eggs all winter, including greenhouse-raised salad greens, endive, and spinach. Of course, we also get our share of root vegetables, so I'm always looking for interesting new ways to use turnips, parsnips, rutabags, and beets. Imagine my pleasure at learning that the excellent chili that Candace served us for supper had a surprising ingredient: red beets.

The recipe, from Good Housekeeping, is easy to make and looks as good as it tastes. It's vegetarian, too, though I suppose if you wanted to, you could add a little ground beef or turkey. The chipolte pepper gives it a nice, mellow heat, but you could probably add some chili powder if you wanted to up the Scoville Scale. Thanks to Candace for sharing the recipe and taking the photos. (And for a fun evening!) This is one chili that's too good to save for Valentine's Day.

Valentine’s Day Red Chili

Good Housekeeping, February 2010

Ingredients
2 teaspoons ground cumin
1 teaspoons dried oregano
½ teaspoon chipotle chile powder
2 tablespoon vegetable oil
3 large beets (6 to 8 oz. each), trimmed, peeled and chopped
1 jumbo red onion, finely chopped
1 large red pepper, chopped
 Fresh ground pepper, to taste
4 cloves garlic, crushed with press
1 can (28 oz.) fire-roasted diced tomatoes
1 ½ cup cooked or 1 can (15 oz) black beans, rinsed and drained
1 ½ cup cooked or 1 can (15 oz) kidney beans, rinsed and drained
1 ½ cup cooked or 1 can (15 oz) pinto beans, rinsed and drained
1 cup water
1 cup reduced –fat sour cream
¼ cup packed fresh cilantro leaves

Directions
1. In 7- to 8-quart Dutch oven or heavy saucepot, combine cumin, oregano, and chile powder. Cook on medium 1 to 2 minutes or until toasted and fragrant. Transfer to sheet of waxed paper; set aside. In the same Dutch oven, heat oil on medium until hot. Add beets, onion, pepper, and freshly ground black pepper. Cook 15 minutes or until vegetable are tender, stirring occasionally.

2. Add garlic and reserved spice mixture. Cook 2 minutes, stirring constantly. Add tomatoes, beans, and water. Heat to boiling on medium-high. Reduce heat to medium low and simmer 30 minutes, stirring and mashing some beans occasionally. Makes about 9 cups (six servings). Divide among serving bowls and top with sour cream and cilantro.

Rabbit Tales and Other Farmers' Market Goodies

It was a couple of days into my first and only trip to Venice about thirty years ago. I had a friend with a boat and we'd gone off to spend the morning walking the beach at the Lido and visiting the glass factories in Murano. Afterwards, we went to this little family trattoria where my friend was well known. There was no ordering, dishes just appeared at the table. The first course was aragosta,  kind of local lobster, if I remember correctly. The second was coniglio. The taste was rich and wonderful. Thus I became a fan of eating rabbit.

Here in the States, rabbit is the last frontier. You'd never think of serving it to guests without checking with them first, "You do eat rabbit, don't you?" Sadly, the answer is frequently "no", which is too bad, because Barbara Hutchinson of Jocose Farm in Chester, NH raises absolutely wonderful rabbits from French stock. (Barbara shows a flintly, New England disdain for those who are too timid to try rabbit. The bumper sticker on her truck says it all. "Save an endangered species. Eat it." ) Farm-raised rabbits are very tender, quite lean, and high in protein. And their all-vegetable diet makes them healthy to eat.

Last Saturday was the kind of cold winter day that makes you want to stay inside and cook. And so we did, making a baked mustard rabbit for that night's meal and a lamb osso buco for Sunday night dinner  -- both recipes from David Tanis' excellent book, A Platter of Figs and Other Recipes. Tanis, who spends six months a year as executive chef at Chez Panisse, has written this delightful book of simple, yet magnificent seasonal recipes especially for home cooks. 

He serves his rabbit with parsnips epiphany-style, showcasing yet another unfortunately underused ingredient. As fresh parsnips had arrived as part of our Heron Pond winter CSA that afternoon, we made those, too, halving both recipes.

Dave prefers to cut up a rabbit using the technique described by Judy Rodgers in the Zuni Cafe Cookbook. This gives you four different cuts of meat: 2 plump hind legs, 2 smooth, tapered loins, two belly flaps, 2 bony forelegs. He decided to make us a first-course composed salad using sauteed rabbit loins, plus fresh radish greens, radishes, and carrots from our CSA, drizzled with a sherry viniagrette.

For the faint-hearted, the mustard rabbit could be made with chicken. But I suggest you try one of Barbara's rabbits, if available. She can be reached at  603-887-4863 or at jocosefarm@msn.com.

Mustard Rabbit in the Oven
Serves 8
Ingredients
2 rabbits, about 2 1/2  pounds each
Salt and pepper
1/4 cup strong Dijon mustard (Tanis suggest adding a little dry mustard powder as French mustard imported to the U.S. is not as pungent as that sold there.)
2 teaspoons mustard seeds, crushed (optional)
1 3/4 cups heavy cream (Tanis uses homemade Creme Fraiche and includes a recipe in his book, but we just use the heavy cream.)
8 garlic cloves, sliced
1/2 pound thick-sliced bacon or pancetta, cut crosswise into 1/4" lardons
4 bay leaves
thyme branches
sage branches
A little dry white wine or chicken broth, if needed

Directions
1. Ask the butcher to cut the rabbit into six pieces (or do it yourself with a small cleaver -- if you get your rabbit from Barbara, you'll have to do it yourself, but it's actually quite easy, like cutting up a chicken,only with four legs) as follows: cut the saddle into 2 pieces. Divide the hind legs. Cut the foresection in half through the backbone, leaving the forelegs attached to the ribs.  (Or you can use the Judy Rodgers method, like we do. Essentially, you remove the legs and forelegs at the joint. Carefully bone the chest cavity. You will have four legs, two boneless rabbit loins, and two loin "flaps.)
2. Season the rabbit pieces generously with salt and freshly ground pepper and put them in a large bowl. Add the mustard, mustard seeds, cream, garlic, bacon, and bay leaves. Strip the leaves from the thyme and sage branches, chop them roughly (you'll want about 2 tablespoons of each, and add to bowl. With your hands, smear the ingredients all over the rabbit pieces to coat evenly. Cover and let the flavors meld for an hour or two, or overnight in the fridge.
3. Bring the rabbit to room temperature, and preheat the oven to 400 degrees. Place the rabbit pieces, along with every drop of their juicy seasoning, in two shallow oval earthenware baking dishes, just large enough to hold them. (if you're halving the recipe, you only need one dish.)
4. Bake on the middle oven shelf for about 1 hour, turning the pieces as they brown. (You may remove the saddle pieces (the loin) a little earlier, though, if they seem done to keep them from overcooking. Then return at the last minute to heat through.) The rabbit should be nicely browned and the juices quite reduced. If it seems to be browning too rapidly, lay a piece of foil on top, then uncover for the last ten minutes of cooking. If the sauce seems too reduced, splash a little white wine or chicken broth into the bottom of the baking dish and cook for a few mintes longer.
5. Bring the serving vessel to the table and serve each person according to their preference: foreleg, saddle, or hindquarters. Spoon a little sauce over each serving. Accompany with roasted parsnips.

Parsnips, Epiphany-Style
Serves 8
Ingredients
4 to 5 pounds parsnips
Salt and pepper
3 tablespoons olive oil

Directions
1. Preheat oven to 375 degrees.
2. Peel parsnips and quarter them lengthwise. With a paring knife, remove the central core (even small parsnips have a hard core.) If the parsnips are smallish, just trim the ends. If larger, cut them into 3" lengths.
3. Season well with salt and pepper and toss with the olive oil, then install the parsnips in an earthenware dish or roasting pan. Bake for 45 minutes or so, until they are fork tender and lightly browned. They can be cooked in advance and reheated.

Smelts in Your Mouth

Smelts! was the subject line of the email I received from my brother-in-law Dave. Since early January, he'd had a standing order for two pounds of smelts at Saunders Fish Market in Portsmouth. Now, our ship had come in, so to speak.

According to the guys at Saunders, not only had the smelts just arrived that morning, but they'd still been swimming in Great Bay the day before. As the locals tell it, smelt fishing in Great Bay is quite an adventure. First, you've got to wait for the ice to form in order for the fishing to even be possible. Then, because Great Bay is a tidal estuary, you can find yourself riding the ice as it goes up and down with the tide. At high tide, you can be as much as 7 feet above the bottom; at low, you can be sitting right on the mud.

We'd first had smelts last year, when our friend Garen Heller, the farmer who provides Garen's greens to Seacoast-area restaurants and farmers' markets, brought some as a "hostess" gift to one of our dinner parties. We watched as he dredged them in flour and cornmeal, and then fried them up in our Tefal deep fryer. While smelts are an oily, briney fish, like sardines, if they are cooked soon after they leave the water, they taste light and sweet. These did, and we decided that smelts should be part of our winter feasting every year.

When Dave picked up our smelts, they were cleaned, gutted, and ready to go. While smelts can also be baked or pan fried, we wanted that incomparable combination of crisp and sweet than can only deep frying can give.  We dipped them in corn flour seasoned with a healthy amount of Aleppo pepper to add some zip.  When the fish were ready for frying, we set up the Tefal on the front porch. (The weather was quite mild, and that way we wouldn't have that fried-food smell in the house all weekend.) Meanwhile, Robin and I prepared some homemade tartar sauce.

Dave waited until the oil reach 375 degrees. Then he fried the smelts until they were just golden brown -- about 5 to 7 minutes. When they were all cooked, we dived in. If the fish are small enough, you can eat the whole thing. Ours were a little too big for that, but it was easy to remove the bones. Ahh, and the taste -- melt-in-your-mouth good. We gave a nod of thanks to fish and fishermen and promptly ate them all!

Stew-pendously Vegetarian

It was the last day of the 1999, back when everyone's biggest fear was of something called Y2K. Our dear friends Jon and Jessie had decided that we had to usher in the 21st century on Potato Island in Plum Island Sound, which, as my brother-in-law Dave puts it, is a place still tettering on the brink of the 19th.

To get there, you must go by boat at high tide or by foot at low. As ice in the creek made a boat ride impossible, we set off on a 45-minute hike across the frozen marshes, with backpacks full of warm clothes and the fixings for dinner, an elegant vegetable stew from a recipe by Gordon Hammersley of Hammersley's Bistro, one of our favorite Boston restaurants. (To keep our packs light, we had taken the precaution of burying the evening's alcoholic libations in a do-it-yourself wine cellar under the house during our fall close-up visit.)

The stew was magnificent, the champagne well chilled, and our elation at watching the lights in Newbury, Rowley, and Ipswich continue to shine after midnight was unsurpassed. Flash forward a decade, and blessed with a bounty of vegetables from our winter CSA, we decided it would be most appropriate to enjoy that Hammersley stew on yet another January weekend.

In reality, there are two recipes for this stew. The first was published in the January 1997 issue of Food and Wine in an article called Sunday Night Stews. Hammersley later updated it for his book Bistro Cooking at Home. We use a combination of the two, picking and choosing the ingredients that add the richest flavor, including the homemade mushroom stock. So if you want to serve a flavorful stew that will go nicely with a fire in the fireplace and a robust red wine-- and you've got vegetarian guests coming -- this is the dish to serve. The mouthwatering cheddar-garlic crumble crust will inspire oohs. The tasty root vegetable stew, with its rich mushroom gravy, will earn ahhs. Best of all, no one will miss the meat.

Gordon Hammersley's Winter Vegetable Stew With Cheddar-Garlic Crumble Crust

adapted from Food and Wine and Bistro Cooking At Home

Serves 6

Ingredients
For the stew
About 3 tablespoons unsalted butter
About 3 tablespoons of extra virgin olive oil
1 red onion, cut into 1-inch pieces
3 medium carrots, cut into 1-inch pieces
1 celery root (about 1 pound), peeled and cut into 1-inch pieces
1 butternut squash (about 1 1/2 pounds), peeled and cut into 1-inch pieces
1 acorn squash (about 1 1/2 pounds), peeled and cut into 1-inch pieces
1 parsnip--peeled and cut into 1-inch pieces
1 rutabaga -- peeled and cut into 1-inch pieces
2 garlic cloves, finely chopped
5 medium Portobello mushrooms (about 1 pound), stems reserved for broth, caps cut into 1-inch pieces
1 cup dry white wine
3 tablespoons tomato paste
3 cups mushroom stock (see recipe belowNote: In a pinch, you can use low-sodium chicken stock, vegetable stock, or water.  
Salt and freshly ground pepper
1/4 teaspoon marjoram

For the cheddar garlic crumble crust
2 cups all-purpose flour
1 teaspoon kosher salt
1 tablespoon, plus 1 teaspoon baking powder
6 tablespoons unsalted butter stick, cut into small cubes and well chilled
1 to 1 1/3 cups heavy cream
1 1/2 teaspoons finely chopped garlic
Pinch of coarsely ground pepper
1 cup shredded sharp Cheddar cheese
(NOTE: If you like you can sprinkle some chives into the dough -- that's what we did!)

For the mushroom stock (Makes four cups)
1/4 cup vegetable oil
1 1/2 pounds white mushrooms, finely chopped
Reserved Portobello mushroom stems, brushed clean
1/2 Spanish onion, coarsely chopped
2 teaspoons chopped garlic
2 cups dry white wine
1/2 cup soy sauce
1/2 cup dried mushrooms, such as porcini or shiitake ( 1/2 ounce)
Pinch of salt
1/2 teaspoon herbes de Provence or thyme

Directions
1. Make mushroom stock (The broth can be made ahead and refrigerated for up to 4 days.)
In a large nonreactive saucepan, heat the vegetable oil over moderately high heat. Add the white mushrooms, Portobello stems, onion and garlic and cook, stirring, until the mushrooms release their liquid, about 5 minutes. Add the wine, soy sauce, dried mushrooms, salt, herbes de Provence and 6 cups of water and bring to a boil. Cover, reduce the heat to moderate and simmer until the liquid is reduced to about 4 cups, about 1 hour. Pour the broth through a fine strainer into a heatproof bowl. Strain again, leaving any particles at the bottom of the bowl.

2. Preheat the oven to 400°. In a large saute pan, heat 1 tablespoon of the butter and 1 tablespoon of the oil over moderately high heat. Add the onion and carrots and cook, stirring occasionally, until browned all over, about 10 minutes; transfer to a large casselrole (13" x 9") or a small roasting pan.

3. Add another tablespoon each of butter and oil to the skillet. Add the celery root and butternut squash, and cook, stirring occasionally, until browned all over, about 10 minutes; transfer to the roasting pan. Repeat the cooking process using another tablespoon each of butter and oil and the remaining vegetables, except for the mushrooms. Add the remaining tablespoon each of butter and oil. Add the Portobellos and cook, stirring occasionally, until tender and browned all over, about 6 minutes; add the garlic and cook for a couple of minutes then transfer everything to the roasting pan and stir to mix.

4.Increase the heat to high and add the wine, tomato paste and broth or water to the saute pan. Bring to a boil, scraping up the browned bits stuck to the bottom of the pan. Pour the liquid over the vegetables. Season with salt and pepper and add the marjoram. Cover with foil and bake until the vegetables are just tender, about 30 minutes. Increase the oven temperature to 450° and cook, uncovered, for 5 minutes longer.

5.Meanwhile, make the cheddar-garlic crumble crust: In a medium bowl, sift the flour, salt, and baking powder together. Using a pastry cutter or 2 knives, cut in the butter until the mixture resembles coarse meal., garlic, and pepper.  Add the cream, garlic, and pepper. Stir in the cheese and mix lightly with a wooden spoon until the dough just holds together. Cover and set aside.

6.Using a large spoon, dollop the surface of the vegetables with ping-pong ball-sized dots of the cheddar crumble crust. The top of the casserole should look like the surface of the moon; bumps and craters are ideal.  Return the casserole to the oven and bake uncovered until the topping is cooked and browned, about 25 minutes.

Oooo La La

It's a Sunday in early January, and despite a cloudless sky, the temperature is struggling to get out of the teens. That's when I'm glad I'm one of those people who's lucky enough to have a couple of quarts of homemade beef stock sitting in my freezer. Which is key, because I'm about to engage in one of the most pleasant and sastisfying ways to spend a late Sunday morning -- standing by the stove, slowly stirring a big cast-iron pan full of simmering onions, while reading a particularly interesting edition of The New York Times Book Review. (Am I one of the few women over 30 who still hasn't read Eat, Pray, Love?)

The onions, which I am seeking to turn a rich caramel color without burning them, will be combined with the aforementioned homemade beef stock to make that bistro classic, French onion soup.

Ironically, the inspiration for this soup was neither the big, beautiful onions that came with last week's CSA, nor the beef stock that my sister Robin had patiently made last fall using bones from the black angus cattle that the Wee Bit Farms people are raising in Maine. Instead, it was the last third of an old loaf of Me and Ollie's wonderful asiago cheese bread. "This would be perfect for French onion soup," I had remarked to my sister and brother-in-law earlier in the weekend. Now, here we were, making it happen.

 I like the recipe from Gordon Hammersley's Bistro Cooking at Home

because it's simple and straightforward -- and because he suggests supplementing the stock with a little dry sherry or port, which adds an extra depth of flavor and helps deglaze the pan. I also like his suggestion to add some minced garlic and olive oil to the toasted bread slices that top the soup before adding the cheese and broiling.

Hammersley, who owns Hammersey's Bistro, one of my favorite Boston restaurants, also says you can make the soup with chicken stock. As you only need 5 cups of stock for this recipe, you could actually take some prepared chicken stock -- the best you can find, preferrably low sodium -- and simmer it for 45 minutes or so with a bay leaf, carrot, onion, and celery -- maybe even a chicken wings or thigh for added flavor and proceed from there.

Whatever stock you use, the key lies in browning the onions until they turn dark and sweet, then broiling the bread and cheese topping till it's bubbly and brown. What else can I say other than c'est magnifique!

Onion Soup Au Gratin

Bistro Cooking at Home

Gordon Hammersley with Joanne McAllister Smart

Ingredients

2 tablespoons unsalted butter

3 medium onions, thinly sliced

Kosher salt and freshly ground black pepper

(I like to add 1 tablespoon or so of flour to the onions to thicken the broth a bit.)

1/2 cup dry sherry or port

5 cups chicken broth or beef stock

1 baquette

2 small garlic cloves, finely chopped

1 teaspoon olive oil

6 ounces Gruyère cheese, shredded

Directions

1. Melt the butter in a wide soup pot over medium heat. Add the onions, season them with a little salt and pepper, and cook them over medium-low heat, stirring occasionally, until the onions slowly brown. This will take 30 to 45 minutes; the longer the onions cook and the lower the heat, the darker and sweeter they become. (Hammersley suggests if you want to hurry things along, you can sprinkle the onions with about 1/2 teaspoon of sugar as they cook. I say, just bring along something to read.) (As the onions darken, I like to add a little flour -- maybe up to a tablespoon, just the thicken the broth.)

2. When the onions have browned to your liking, add the sherry or port, and the chicken broth or beef stock and 3 cups of water to the pot. (Hammersley suggests adding sherry to the chicken broth and port to the beef, but I added sherry to the beef, as that's what I had.)

3. Stir, scraping up any browned bits stuck to the bottom of the pan, Bring soup to a boil, lower to a simmer, and cook for about a half hour to meld the flavors. Taste and season with more salt and pepper, if needed.

4. When ready to serve, heat the broiler. Cut the baguette into slices about 1/8 inch thick. You want enough slices to cover the soup bowls. Put the slices on a baking sheet and toast them lightly under the broiler. Mix the garlic with the olive oil and spread in a thin layer over each toasted bread slice.

5. Set soup bowls (see Note) on the baking sheet. (Careful it may be hot!) Ladle the soup into the bowls. Put a slice or two of the baguette on top of the soup. You want to cover the surface almost entirely without any overlap -- cut the slices to fit if need be. Sprinkle the toast with a handful (about 1 ounce) of Gruyère cheese each. Carefully slide the baking sheet (it will be heavy) into the oven and melt the cheese under the broiler until it just starts to brown in spots, about 2 minutes. Serving immediately, remembering that the bowls are extremely hot.

(NOTE: Hammersley uses crocks specifically made for onion soup. Any relatively wide-mouthed, low-sided soup bowl will work fine, as long as it's overproof. And be sure to put the hot bowls on a plate so as not to ruin your table.)