The Dinner Files

All I can say is that I can’t believe that these green pea and pecorino crostini are as good as they are. Smashed sweet peas with some olive oil on toasted walnut bread rubbed with a garlic clove and some pecorino on top? Sure, it sounds tasty, but it doesn’t sound nearly as tasty as these actually are. The key is, I’m sure, that the fresh green peas we’ve been getting are simply beyond fabulous. Plump, truly sweet, tender, and full of green springtime.

Sweet green pea crostini

I use a walnut levain bread from Acme bakery in San Francisco to make these. Other breads would be good, I’m sure, but there is something about the earthy walnut flavor and bit of crunch they add to the proceedings that is pretty close to perfect.

2 pounds sweet green pea pods/English peas/garden peas (this will give you enough so you can snack on them as you shell them)

1 teaspoon salt, plus more to taste

3 Tablespoons super delicious extra virgin olive oil

6 thick slices homemade or artisan baked walnut bread or similar

1 large clove garlic

Fresh pecorino for shredding

Freshly ground black pepper

Mint, chervil, or chives, chopped, for garnish (optional)

Shell the peas.

Bring a medium saucepan of water to a boil, add 1/2 teaspoon of the salt to the water, add the peas and cook about a minute. Drain and rinse with cold running water to coll them off quickly. Shake as much excess water off as you can.

Now you can work in a bowl by hand or with a blender or food processor. Put the peas and 2 tablespoons of the olive oil in the vessel of your choice. Mash the peas with a fork or pulse to half-mash the peas.

Toast the bread. Cut the garlic clove in half and rub the toasts with the garlic. Discard the used garlic clove or use in another dish. Spread each toast with its fair share of the pea mash and drizzle them with the remaining bit of olive oil. Sprinkle toasts with grated pecorino and black pepper, as well as more salt to taste (a bit of fleur de sel is nice here) and any herbs you choose to use.

For the record, if you make too many of these delights for your guests to ingest – perhaps because you cooked a four-course dinner for eight when there were only four of you present and you made an extra-large salad in a last-minute moment of panic that by some insane logic there wasn’t enough food – any leftover crostini make a tasty breakfast.

Delicate green spring vegetables – the asparagus, the peas, the fava beans – are plentiful, but our San Francisco spring is not keeping pace. Lots of gray and rain and chilly wind and not as much sunshine and clear days as we’re used to this time of year. It’s hard to get excited about simply steamed asparagus with aïoli when I’m chilled to the bone.

A big warm bowl of creamy risotto, though? That I can tuck into with glee.

Spring risotto

Go ahead and play around with the proportions of veggies here – nothing’s set in stone. Add some chopped fennel in with the green garlic, use spring onions instead of green garlic, add mint or dill or chervil at the end.You will find plenty of risotto recipes than demand that you stir the rice constantly. This is not one of them.

1 to 2 pounds fava beans

1/2 pound sweet peas/garden peas/English peas

1/2 bunch asparagus

2 green garlics

5 cups broth (I use homemade chicken stock – if you used commercial broth dilute 4 cups of it with 1 cup of water)

2 Tablespoons butter

1 Tablespoon olive oil

1/2 teaspoon salt, plus more to taste

1 cup aborio rice

About 3/4 cup freshly shredded not-super-aged Pecorino cheese

First things first – and experience spring cooks know what this is going to be – you need to double shell the fava beans (I even have this step-by-step guide on how to do it!). I’m sorry. It really is a complete pain if you’re not in the mood to slowly but surely work your way through those beans. Grab the phone, put on the radio, have a chat, or just take a moment and have a little day dream while your hands and eyes are busy.

Set the shelled, blanched, and shelled favas aside.

Shell the peas – doesn’t that seem like a breeze after the favas? – and set them aside with the favas.

Snap the asparagus spears where they break naturally and discard the ends. Cut the asparagus into relatively thin, angled slices, leaving the 1-inch to 2-inch tips intact. Set aside.

Cut off the root ends off the green garlics. Cut the white and light green part of the stalks in half lengthwise – the darker green top will hold the whole things together. Chop the white and light green parts. Reserve the dark green tops for making stock, if you’re so inclined.

Put the broth in a medium saucepan and bring to a simmer. Keep it at a very low simmer.

Meanwhile, heat another medium-ish saucepan over medium high heat. Add 1 tablespoon of the butter and the olive oil. When the butter is melted and stops foaming, add the chopped green garlic and the salt. Cook, stirring, until the green garlic is wilted, about 2 minutes.

Add the rice and stir to completely coat it with the butter and oil. Cook, stirring until the opaque rice grains turn a bit translucent around the edges.

Add about a cup of the warm broth to the rice and cook, stirring as you like. Adjust teh heat so that when you’re not stirring the mixture simmers a bit but doesn’t boil or get too excited. When most of the broth is absorbed – when you can see the bottom of the pot for a few seconds when you stir because the mixture is thicker than the broth – add another 1/2 cup broth. Continue cooking, with some stirring, and adding 1/2 cup of broth at a time until the rice is almost tender to the bite but still has a kernel of uncooked-ness in the center – it took mine a bit over 15 minutes to get there.

Add the asparagus and more broth and continue cooking and stirring and adding broth as needed until the asparagus is almost done and the rice is al dente – tender but with structure to each grain. Add the peas and fava beans.

Continue cooking, adding a bit more broth and stirring, until the peas and beans are warm, just a minute or two. Stir in the cheese and remaining tablespoon of butter and taste – add more salt if you want. We found more cheese on top and some freshly ground black pepper was tasty indeed. As mentioned above, a bit of chopped spring herbs would be lovely too.

We had ours with a boiled egg on the side – we have all these picture-perfect pastured eggs in the house and they are difficult to resist. I meant to soft boil them – start in cold water, bring to a boil, cover, remove from heat, let sit exactly three minutes, remove from hot water, and peel. But the risotto timing with the rice and vegetables and whatnot had the bulk of my attention and the eggs sat around on the counter after I took them from their hot water bath and kept cooking and they weren’t soft-boiled at all. They were, however, delicious and super-spring-y with the risotto.

My Very Tall Cousin Sam came to dinner last night. The evening was marked by two big events. First, Ernie let go a bit too soon while showing off on his trapeze for Sam. He gashed his head on the pea gravel and bled profusely. Sam, who was in town for a job interview, carried Screaming Ernie up the back stairs to the kitchen trying simultaneously to comfort the child and, understandably, not to get blood all over his nice clothes. Once we got the blood cleaned up we all realized the cut was small. Ernie was back outside with Very Tall Cousin Sam within three minutes.

Second, I perfected the spring vegetable couscous (cuckoo!) that has haunted me lo! these many days. We ate it with grilled peppers and spicy Italian sausage from Boccalone, a cured meat CSA in the Bay Area (what won’t they think of next…).

The nice people at Lindsay olives sent me some samples of their “Naturals” line. Ernie is a fan. He not, however, a fan of having his picture taken:

We had a first course of creamy fava bean soup that my dashing husband declared was “like restaurant food.” The comment was mainly observation, with a dash of compliment on the side. It was rich and creamy (what with the heavy cream I added) and perfect, as long as one only ate a little of it. A huge bowl would have rendered me ill. But a tiny ramekin of it topped with minced chives was divine. Shell 3 pounds of fava beans. Blanch them in salted water for 3 minutes. Run through a food mill or shell them again. Cook resulting beans in 1/2 cup chicken broth until very soft, mushy even. Whirl in a blender until super-duper smooth. Heat over lowest possible heat, add salt to taste, and stir in 1/4 to 1/2 cup heavy cream. Serve in tiny portions garnished with minced chives. The chives are key. Do not skip the chives.

Our main course was my attempt to fix the spring vegetable couscous (cuckoo!) I made last week. Sadly, I must try again (yes, I’m secretly pleased because even the less perfect versions are delic!)–someone, and I’m not saying who (me?) bought two bags of English peas and no snap peas AND I forgot to ask my intern not to shell and use ALL the favas yesterday. The couscous (cuckoo!) lacked the wide variety of spring vegetables I had planned, but the peas and spring onion couscous (cuckoo!) with feta was tasty. I’ll work on it. I’ll get back to you.

p.s. Happy Birthday Mom!