The Dinner Files

Bright and bitter. Some days that describes me to a T. Purple and salty. Sometimes that works too, although in a more metaphorical way. They all get right to the heart of this salad, which hits the bright and bitter, purple and salty notes perfectly.

Radicchio green olive salad

This is my riff on a salad made at Toro Bravo in Portland. Their version relegates the green olives to the side, as a spread atop two slices of grilled bread. I put all the flavors in the bowl. With some good baguette and tasty cheese, you have yourself a simple and utterly delightful dinner.

1 head radicchio

18 green olives

1 cloves garlic

2 tablespoons olive oil

2 tablespoons sherry vinegar or lemon juice (good both ways!)

Salt to taste

Lots of freshly ground black pepper

Scads of freshly shredded Parmesan cheese

Trim radicchio and cut or tear into shreds or bite-size pieces. Put radicchio in a large salad bowl.

Mince olives and garlic into a paste and then mix with oil, vinegar or lemon juice, and add salt and pepper to taste. (You can also do this in a blender, if you like.)

Toss radicchio with the dressing. Then add a whole lot of Parmesan and toss it again. Serve topped with more Parmesan.

I woke up to snow again. This time in Portland. Just a light dusting of the stuff and the gentlest of flakes drifting down — nothing like the curtains of down that fell at the coast yesterday morning. But it was all very peaceful and pretty and is making my mini-escape from regular life feel all the more out-of-time.

I’ve written about Toro Bravo before. It is an amazing tapas place in Portland that is always packed. Always. On a Monday night during a recession depression we had a 40 minute wait for a table. We happily imbibed a cocktail before sitting and ordering the radicchio salad with manchego vinaigrette, crab and chicken croquettes, seared cauliflower, and drunken pork.

I’ve missed a couple posts lately because I wanted to develop recipes before writing about them, but I can see now that the backlog is getting to be too much. So, without further ado, here is how I would go about making that jaw-droppingly good radichhio salad (I’ll make it soon, or go ahead and try it first and let me know how it works): Chop up a head or two of not-too-bitter radicchio. This is the time of year to do it, when it’s nice and cold and the plants don’t get as bitter. Then make a vinaigrette of 1 or 2 shallots minced and then mixed with 1 Tbsp. sherry vinegar and 1/4 to 1/2 tsp. of kosher or sea salt. Let that sit 10 or 15 minutes. (While that sits chop up some buttery green olives very finely and spread them on some long, diagonally-sliced pieces of oliveoil-brushed, toasted baguette.) Whisk in 3 Tbsp. fruity olive oil to the vinegar-shallot mixture and add freshly ground black pepper to taste. Then stir in I’m guessing 1/4 cup freshly shredded manchego cheese. Maybe more. Now toss the radicchio with this dressing and serve with green olive toasts.

We got a beautiful head of Treviso radicchio in our CSA box this last week. I could have grilled it, sauteed it, broiled it, roasted it, thrown it in a salad. But instead I made an old family favorite – something I created maybe 10 years ago and which my dashing husband loves. I warn you: it’s weird, it’s intense, it’s probably a bit much for most people. Radicchio and blue cheese risotto. It’s a bit blue-ish purple, which I find rather fabulous. 

And yes, Ernie ate it. I did, however, pull out his portion before I added the blue cheese. 

And the best part? The risotto cakes I just made myself for lunch. There’s a whole tray of them in the fridge waiting to be fried up for dinner. 

Risotto Cakes

Leftover risotto

1 egg per 1 1/2 cup leftover risotto

1 cup white rice ground into powder in a coffee or spice mill (this will be enough for plenty of cakes and make it super easy to coat them and keep your hands somewhat dry)

Vegetable oil

Stir risotto to loosen it a bit if it’s started to get clumpy. Beat egg(s) and stir into risotto. Put ground rice powder in a shallow bowl.

Scoop risotto mixture in 1/3-cup balls and put them in the rice powder. With a dry hand, pick up rice powder from around the risotto and spread it over the risotto ball, slightly flattening it into more of a patty or cake. When cake is thoroughly coated, transfer to platter to baking sheet. Repeat with remaining risotto.

Heat a large frying pan over medium heat. Swirl in enough vegetable oil to coat the bottom. Place risotto cakes (as many as will fit without touching) in pan and cook, undisturbed, until browned. Carefully flip each cake over and brown on other side. Serve and eat pretty much immediately. They are extra delicious with a salad of hearty or bitter greens with a pungent sherry-vinegar or balsamic-vinegar dressing.

We’re going to start with the good. Don’t worry, the embarrassing will come later.

Inspired by the leftover pizza dough in the fridge* and the contents of our CSA box, I cooked up two beauties last night: Dino kale/salami/pecorino (below) and green garlic/prosciutto/parmesan.

My almost-5-year-old son helped me grate the cheese for the pizzas. He does an okay job. It’s good. No, it’s just okay. He moves the cheese against the grater but hasn’t really figured out that you need to push the cheese against it a bit (he’s been given explicit instructions, I assure you). He ends up with a dusting of cheese on the plate or in the bowl and a lot of compliments on how much he’s helping.

Last night he figured out something. Something big.

“Mama,” he said, “I like cooking.”

“It’s fun, isn’t it?” I responded, trying to harness all his pre-schooler helping energy and build it up for the future.

“Yeah,” he said, cramming yet another pinch of grated parmesan into his mouth, “you get to do the tasting first!”

Damn, my cover is blown. He’ll never leave me alone with a batch of bacon or cheese-crusted potato gratin again.

By the way, I also gently wilted the most delicately bitter radicchio I’ve ever tasted with a few thin slices of garlic in olive oil. Turning this graceful pile of leaves:

Into this tiny gray (but delicious) mess:

With just a drizzle of balsamic when it was done.

* I’m the kind of person who has half a batch of pizza dough left over and slow-rising in the refrigerator because last week I invited a friend to lunch when I was testing some pizza recipes. Well, said friend got all excited about the pizza but had to reschedule the lunch date. This friend would in no way then expect the pizza to materialize on the rescheduled day BUT did express great regrets at having missed the pizza AND I had a nagging doubt about one of the recipes SO I cooked homemade pizza for lunch on a Wednesday. Nagging doubts put to rest. Friend happy and very full of a rather extraordinary amount of pizza for one person in the middle of the day.