Creamy, Dreamy Baked Risotto

Baked Risotto with Prosciutto & Peas

A nice slice 

Once upon a time, if you came to my house for dinner, you ate risotto. I learned to make risotto, really good risotto, before it was trendy, before it was in every magazine and on every cooking show. Before it was being tweaked, tinkered with and short-cutted to the point that it no longer resembled risotto. I've made risottos with butternut squash (a favourite), salmon, lemon and peas. I've made arancini with the leftovers. The first dinner I cooked for my husband was a mushroom risotto – my piece de resistance. Taking this as a challenge, he made a chicken risotto, which he claimed was far superior. We have a small, simmering rivalry in the kitchen, you see.

And then we kind of stopped making risotto. I guess we overdid it? Who knows. But it's been a long time. 

Then a few weeks ago I was watching Giada De Laurentiis cook this recipe, her Nonna's baked risotto. It looked so interesting, so comforting, so authentic. I had to try it! And I'm so glad I did. I am newly inspired by risotto!

Now this is nothing like a steaming, silky bowl of rich creamy risotto. It's more similar to a baked pasta. The rice still retains its bite but it melds with the other ingredients, forming a cohesive wedge when sliced. To us, this is the perfect side dish. Creamy, comforting and flavourful, but low-key, not asserting itself over the meal. We served it with a punchy veal piccata which was the perfect counterpoint. And boy would kids love this!

It's a simple recipe but somewhat step heavy, a Sunday afternoon versus a Tuesday night dish. I had two challenges with it to give you the heads up about in case you run into the same problems. One, that my springform pan was 10" instead of 9", meaning mine was less dense; I should have reduced the cooking time by 10 minutes or so – it was just a smidge dry. Two, you wrap the whole springform pan in foil and cook it in a water bath and my foil wrapping sprung a leak. I thought this would be disastrous – it wasn't – but the bottom and sides lacked the crispness they would have had. It's really, really important to wrap this baby up well with no seams for the water to trickle in. 

I can't wait to try this again, play with the flavours and see what else I can come up with. So if you come to my house for dinner, this might just be on the menu. 

Getting it all together – a few key steps 

Baked Risotto with Prosciutto & Peas
*adapted from Giada De Laurentiis 

2 cups marinara sauce
1 cup Arborio rice
1/2 cup plus 1/3 cup grated Parmigiano Reggiano
4 oz. thinly sliced prosciutto, chopped
1 cup frozen peas, thawed
4 eggs, at room temperature, beaten
1/2 tsp kosher salt
1/4 tsp pepper
1/3 cup plain breadcrumbs or panko 

Bechamel 
3 tbsp unsalted butter 
1/4 cup all purpose flour
1-1/4 cup milk, at room temperature
1/4 tsp kosher salt
1/8 tsp ground nutmeg

Preheat oven to 350ºF with rack in middle of oven. Prepare a 9" springform pan by greasing with butter on the bottom and sides; wrap the outside with a large piece of foil so there are no gaps or seams.

Place rice and marinara sauce in a medium saucepan and bring to a boil on medium-high heat, stirring occasionally. Reduce to medium/medium-low, simmering for 6 min. Remove from heat and set aside to cool.

Meanwhile, prepare bechamel sauce by melting butter in a saucepan over medium-low heat. Add flour and whisk until smooth, 1 to 2 min. Gradually add the milk, whisking to prevent lumps. Simmer over medium-low heat, whisking, until the sauce is thick and smooth, approx. 6 min. Stir in salt and nutmeg. 

In a large bowl, gently mix together rice mixture, bechamel sauce, 1/2 cup Parmigiano Reggiano, prosciutto and peas until well incorporated. Slowly mix in eggs, salt and pepper until incorporated. 

Pour mixture into prepared springform pan, cover with foil. Place in a roasting pan. Fill roasting pan with hot water until it comes halfway up sides of springform pan, ensuring no water gets inside foil wrapping. Bake 1 hr.

Remove foil cover and sprinkle with breadcrumbs and remaining Parmigiano Reggiano. Turn oven to broil (500ºF). Broil for approx. 2 to 3 min. until top is golden. Remove from pans from oven; remove springform pan from foil onto a plate or serving dish. Allow to cool 15 min. Loosen edges with a knife or metal spatula; remove sides of pan. Cut into wedges to serve. 

Dangerously Decadent Chocolate Mousse

Live Dangerously: Classic Chocolate Mousse 

When I was about five or six, my parents took me out to restaurants quite a bit. In Toronto in the early '80s, French food was seriously in vogue, and at one of these early dining experiences, possibly the same night my father tricked me into eating rabbit, I had chocolate mousse. It was magic. More chocolate-y than any chocolate I'd had. Light as air, melting and bubbly on my tongue. Luscious, luxurious – words I didn't know at the time. All I knew was that I was in love. And I still am. 

But for some reason, I have hesitated to make it at home. Whether I was worried I wouldn't have my Ratatouille-moment, or I was just plain intimidated by the lengthiness of the recipes I found, I don't know, but I am here to tell you something: Making chocolate mousse is dead easy. 

I made some this morning in 45 minutes while my baby was sleeping. A pretty bold move: nothing tempts the nap gods to punish you more than embarking on something that requires your full focus and attention. You remember Juliette Binoche in Chocolat? I was the exact opposite. The water had been turned off in our building. My kitchen was a disaster. I was under-the-gun to get it all done before Rory awoke. Basically, I had no business even attempting this. But I did it. And it was spectacular!

Before I ever got to the cooking stage, I did my research. This is what I found: whether cook books or blogs, attributed or not, all roads lead to Julia Child. Her Mousselline au Chocolat from "Mastering the Art of French Cooking" is the foundation of all the best chocolate mousse recipes I referenced. I've further edited and simplified in the recipe below, but in case it still looks too difficult, here's a quick breakdown:

You melt together chocolate, butter (a lot of butter) and coffee. You whisk together egg yolks, sugar and a liqueur of your choice over heat and then over cold. You blend these two mixtures together. You whisk egg whites with a pinch of salt and some sugar until they are glossy but not stiff and fold them into the chocolate mixture. You pour into a pretty vessel and chill. Easy, right? 

It's all about the chocolate.... 

Great chocolate mousse unsurprisingly starts with great chocolate. Does it have to be a fancy brand? Not really. But it also can't be that bag of chocolate chips that's been sitting in your freezer for a year. I consulted Harold McGee's "McGee On Food & Cooking" to read up on the subject. (If you're not familiar with Harold McGee, he's like the Bill Nye of food.) It comes down to the cocoa solids and their varying moisture content dependent on the percentage in the chocolate. So regardless of the recipe, use the percentage/type of chocolate recommended or expect to be sad-face disappointed. Same goes for a recipe that calls for milk chocolate; don't go messing with dark in there and necessarily expect great results. Chocolate mousse recipes call for dark chocolate with between 60 and 70% cocoa. I used a 70% that I ordered online – Cacao Barry Saint Domingue Origine, which comes in small discs for easy measuring and melting. I wanted this mousse to be incredible, so to me it was worth splurging a little. 

And was it ever worth it. Let me tell you friends, I had a moment with that chocolate mousse this morning. And now that I know how easy it is, I'm looking forward to many more.

Classic Chocolate Mousse 
*adapted from Julia Child's "Mastering the Art of French Cooking"
Prep Time: 15 min. | Total Time: 45 min. | Chill Time: 3 to 4 hr.

1-1/4 cups (170 g/6 oz) chopped dark chocolate (60 to 70% cocoa)
3/4 cup cold unsalted butter, cut into small pieces
1/4 cup strong coffee 
4 large eggs, separated 
2/3 cup plus 1 tbsp super fine sugar, divided  
2 tbsp Grand Marnier liqueur (or liqueur of your choice)
1 tbsp cold water
pinch salt 
1/2 tsp vanilla extract 

In a medium-sized bowl set over a pot of barely simmering water, melt together chocolate, butter and coffee, stirring until combined. Remove bowl from heat; set aside.

Fill a large bowl halfway with ice water and set aside. 

In another medium-sized bowl set over the same pot of simmering water, whisk together egg yolks, 2/3 cup sugar, liqueur, and water for approx. 3 min. until the sugar has melted, mixture has thickened, become paler and is the consistency of a runny mayonnaise. Remove the bowl from the heat and place inside the bowl of ice water, ensuring water doesn't get into the egg mixture. Continue to whisk until slightly thickened and cooled, approx. 2 to 3 more min. Remove bowl from ice water and add chocolate mixture to the egg mixture, stirring to combine. 

Whisk egg whites with salt until frothy and just beginning to stiffen. Add 1 tbsp sugar and whisk until thick and glossy but not stiff; add vanilla and whisk just until combined. 

Fold one-third of the whisked egg whites into the chocolate mixture. Fold the remaining until incorporated, being careful not to over mix. Pour mousse mixture into ramekins, tea cups or a vessel of your choice. Chill for approx. 3 to 4 hours until firm.   

Get Stuffed with Savoury Pancakes

Ultimate breakfast for dinner: Maple-Bacon, Cheddar & Chive Pancakes

In my last post, I promised you chocolate. 

Never fear, chocolate is on its way. I'm just waiting for a special delivery before I can start testing. Fingers crossed for Thursday!

In the meantime, I offer you this: a savoury-sweet pancake recipe (with bacon!) that's perfect for dinner, or brunch or anywhere in between. Today is Shrove or "Pancake" Tuesday, after all. Pancake Tuesday doesn't have much of a presence in Canada, but in the U.K., everyone eats thin crepe-like pancakes smothered in sugar and lemon juice as a last hurrah before Lent, because, well, if you're going to stuff your face with something, it may as well be pancakes. (At this point, I could tell you about the time when I was a little girl and ate one of those bigger-than-your face, whipped cream and chocolate-slathered creations and was immediately sick, but why go there?) These pancakes are what the Brits would call American pancakes, although with the addition of cheddar, maple and bacon, I'd say they're decidedly Canadian. 

The bacon here is pretty special and a recipe in its own right. It's inspired by an old Gourmet recipe, which I've both simplified and doctored up. In these pancakes, the bacon is the dominant flavour note, adding salt, sweet and spice. The method also ensures it's both crisp and non-greasy. Feel free to make extra. It'll make a rocking BLT, jazz up any pasta and it's perfect for absent-minded nibbling while you're flipping pancakes.

Another key technique to these pancakes is adding the cheese and chives to the batter before cooking. I referenced several recipes that instructed you to add the cheese on top of the pancakes while they cooked – for me, this was a major stick-to-the-pan, burnt-cheese fail. After some experimentation, I discovered that mixing the cheese into the batter instead works perfectly. If you want to make your batter ahead, you can, just add the cheese and chives right before cooking. The bacon on the other hand is best added on top while the pancake is cooking so it stays crisp and makes for a prettier presentation. Another quick note: There are pancakes of a similar ilk that use green onions. I prefer the subtlety of chives, both in terms of flavour and mouthfeel (in other words, I don't like to bite on big chunks of green onion). Okay. Enough technicalities. Make these, stuff your face and be happy. By the way, I hope you're not giving chocolate up for Lent! 

Maple-Bacon, Cheddar & Chive Pancakes 
Prep Time: 10 min. | Total Time: 40 min. | Makes: 10 pancakes
1 cup all purpose flour
2 tbsp sugar
1-1/2 tsp baking powder
1/2 tsp baking soda
1/2 tsp kosher salt
1-1/4 cups buttermilk
2 tbsp unsalted butter, melted
1 egg
1/2 cup finely grated cheddar cheese
1 tbsp finely sliced chives
1 cup chopped, cooked Spiced Maple-Bacon (recipe below) 

In a bowl, whisk together flour, sugar, baking powder, baking soda and salt. In another bowl, whisk together buttermilk, melted butter and egg. Whisk flour mixture into buttermilk mixture until just smooth, without over-mixing. (You can make the batter the night ahead up until this point and refrigerate; bring to room temperature before cooking.) Stir in cheese and chives. 

In a large non-stick skillet, heat a knob of butter over medium heat, until foaming (you can use canola oil or bacon fat if you prefer). Using a 1/4 cup measure, pour batter into pan, ensuring space is left between pancakes (cook in batches if necessary); sprinkle with approx. 1 tbsp bacon pieces. Cook until bubbles appear at edges and on top, approx. 2 min. Using spatula, carefully flip pancakes and cook until browned, approx. two min. more. Transfer to a platter and keep in a 200ºF oven until ready to serve. Top with remaining bacon pieces and maple syrup if desired. 

Spiced Maple-Bacon
Prep Time: 5 min. | Total Time: 30 min. | Makes: 1 cup chopped bacon
8 slices streaky bacon
1 tsp pure maple syrup
1 pinch each black pepper and cayenne pepper (optional)

Preheat oven to 375ºF. Place a cooling rack on top of a foil-lined rimmed baking sheet. Layer bacon strips vertically on top of cooling rack, without overlapping. Bake bacon for 20 to 30 min. on middle rack (it should be browned and crisp but still pliable). Remove baking sheet from oven; blot bacon with paper towel. Brush bacon slices with maple syrup and sprinkle with peppers. Return bacon to oven for 2 min. more. Remove bacon and place syrup side up on a paper towel lined plate. Allow to cool slightly and cut into small pieces. 

Feed Your Need For Fresh

Light, bright and refreshing Fennel & Blood Orange Salad | Photo by Della Rollins

I think we can all agree, it's been a long winter. Like, really long. I don't know about you, but I've hit a wall with all the heavy braises, stews and roasts. (Although the other night, I was happy to dig into a big ol' bowl of poutine, so I guess I'm not that over comfort food!) When I'm not gorging on gravy-soaked fries, I'm craving something refreshing, light and bright. A dish that tells me, hang in there, spring is just around the corner. We're a good month away from the first local lovelies, like asparagus, ramps and rhubarb, so I turn to ingredients that mimic those fresh flavours – fennel and citrus, which are both at their peak over the winter months. This Fennel & Blood Orange Salad has been a go-to over the past few weeks: I love the mild anise astringency of the raw fennel blended with the sweet-sour of the blood orange. 

I was first inspired by this recipe from Food52, but I wanted a dressing with more oomph. The one I've created is simple and light, using the juice for both sweetness and acidity and maximizing your ingredients by juicing the membranes left over after the oranges have been segmented (scroll down for a segmenting how-to). I played with regular Dijon mustard but found that using grainy mustard gave the dressing the body and interest I was looking for while retaining the beautiful colour of the juice. The salad lends itself to many adaptations. I like the saline bite of green olives, but you can add creaminess with avocado slices or extra crunch with toasted nuts like pistachio. And if you can't find blood oranges, try another citrus like grapefruit or navel oranges or even a mix of the two. Oh and be sure to use those fennel fronds, the wispy green tops on the fennel bulb that look a bit like dill; they have a subtle anise flavour and look beautiful.

Fennel & Blood Orange Salad
Prep Time: 20 min | Total Time: 30 min | Serves: 4

1 bulb fennel, shaved with mandolin or thinly sliced, fronds reserved
2-3 medium blood oranges, segmented, membranes reserved
1/4 cup green olives

Dressing
Reserved blood orange membranes 
1/4 cup extra virgin olive oil
1 tbsp grainy Dijon mustard
1 tsp liquid honey 
pinch each salt and pepper
1 clove garlic
2 sprigs thyme

Arrange shaved or sliced fennel on a plate. Arrange blood orange segments on top. Chop reserved fennel fronds and scatter on top. Top with green olives. Drizzle with dressing (you may have some dressing leftover, depending on your preference).

For the dressing
Squeeze juice from reserved orange membranes for approx. 4 tbsp of juice. Whisk juice together with oil, mustard, honey, salt and pepper. Adjust seasoning (honey) as necessary, depending on level of sweetness of blood oranges. Remove peel from garlic and lightly crush with the flat blade of a knife, keeping the clove whole. Place garlic and thyme in dressing; let sit for 10 to 15 min. to infuse. Remove garlic and thyme before use. Note: I often use garlic and herbs like this to flavour my dressings, especially when I want them to impart subtle flavour. Leave the dressing in the fridge overnight to fully develop.

Here's how to segment citrus – it's easy!

Segmented citrus makes for easy eating and looks impressive | photos by Della Rollins

By the way, what do you think of the amazing photos in this post? I was very lucky to collaborate with photographer, and my good friend, Della Rollins. Aren't they beautiful? I love this one:  

Orange segmenting aftermath | photo by Della Rollins

We had a fun, relaxed shoot, in between keeping my little guy occupied – thank goodness for Jolly Jumpers! Thanks Della!

Now that I've satisfied my craving for fresh, I'm thinking next week may be dedicated to chocolate.... All things in moderation, right? Any special requests?

Taking the Cheese Out of Cauliflower

No cheese here – Lemon-Garlic Roasted Cauliflower 

As a kid, I used to love cauliflower because my mom, Carol, always made a really decadent cheesy sauce to go on top. She made this béchamel-based sauce so frequently (it went on broccoli, too) that she had one of those electric self-stirring sauce-making appliances that were so popular in the '80s. Without that cheese sauce though, the cauliflower itself was kinda boring. (Don't judge my mom on her '80s cauliflower, she's an exceptional cook! Sorry mom!) Fast forward to 2014, and, along with our hair styles, cauliflower has evolved; like kale and Brussels sprouts before it, now it's actually kinda hip. 

One of my favourite ways to serve it up is to roast it. Roasting brings out its sweetness, making it – dare, I say – almost addictive. The great thing about cauliflower is that it's a blank canvas that'll take any kind of spices or seasoning. Here's a base recipe and inspiration for switching it up.

Roasted Cauliflower 
Prep Time: 10 min. | Total Time: 45 min. | Serves: 4

1 head cauliflower, cut in florets or sliced
2 tbsp olive oil
pinch each salt and pepper

Preheat oven to 425ºF. Toss cauliflower in oil, salt and pepper to coat. Spread cauliflower evenly on a rimmed baking sheet; place in middle rack of oven. Roast for approx. 30 min., stirring half way through, until cauliflower is tender and starting to brown and caramelize.

Line your baking sheet with parchment paper to
prevent sticking and for easy cleanup

Switch it Up!
Lemon-Garlic Toss with 1 clove minced garlic and zest of 1 lemon before roasting. (Garnish with thyme, if you're taking a photo and need a hit of green – see above!)

Mediterranean Once roasted, toss with 1/2 cup chopped grape tomatoes, 1 tbsp chopped capers and/or olives and 1 tbsp balsamic vinegar. 

Middle Eastern Toss with 1 tsp each ground cumin and turmeric before roasting (if like Middle Eastern herbs and spices, sumac would be delicious here, too, or try 1 tbsp za'atar instead).

Herbed Panko Once roasted, toss with 1/4 cup toasted panko crumbs (sautéed in 1 tbsp butter until golden) and 2 tbsp chopped parsley.

Parmesan (okay, technically this is cheese but it's delicious!) In the last 10 min. of roasting, once cauliflower is tender, sprinkle with 1/2 cup grated parmesan cheese and continue roasting until parmesan is melted and golden, approx. 10 min.

I'd love to hear how you're cooking up cauliflower – do you go classic or are you trying something new? I'm going to try this recipe from Jamie Oliver next, where he turns cauliflower into faux rice. I'll let you know how it goes. 

Eating Out: Momofuku Shoto, Toronto

A trio of amuse to start the meal

Ian and I love discovering incredible places to eat. We'll hibernate for a month so we can splurge and try somewhere new, and when we travel, it's top on our list to research the best restaurants and food experiences in the area, whether that's fine dining, a local market or a food truck. Lucky for us, Toronto is a very good place to live if you want to eat well.

Momofuku's Shoto has been on our list for a while and Ian's birthday was the perfect excuse. Shoto is on the upper level of the Momofuku complex hidden behind the main restaurant on that floor, Daisho. Like all of David Chang's enterprises, Shoto is relaxed and cool. Guests sit at a U-shaped counter that overlooks an open prep area. The sommelier/server was wearing jeans and a flannel shirt. The playlist ran the gamut from Metallica to Stevie Wonder. And the sous chefs plating in front of us were doing their thing, no airs and graces.

We opted for the new multi-course tasting, which offers five to six dishes instead of the usual 10. I'm all for these pared down tasting menus because I tend to get uncomfortably full by the end of a regular tasting. Highlights of the meal included a silky cauliflower soup over a delightful nugget of cauliflower tempura, blow-torched mackerel with beet puree and shiso leaf, a ragu with buckwheat noodles and super-tender chicken with earthy lentils and Jerusalem artichoke.

At the end of the service, the chefs chatted with us, asking us how we enjoyed the meal, talking food and restaurants and generally making the experience all the more enjoyable, leaving us looking forward to having another good "excuse" to go back.

A Caramel-Pear Cake Worth Celebrating

Rich and moist Upside-Down Caramel Pear Cake 

It was my husband, Ian's, birthday yesterday. We went out for dinner to celebrate and to enjoy a long-overdue date night – both the dinner and the date were pretty spectacular (more on the dinner later) – but I wanted to bake him a cake, too. Because, really, what's a birthday without a cake? 

Ian absolutely loves pears, and he'll always opt for a pear dessert when we eat out. So rather than make a traditional birthday cake, I made this Upside-Down "Caramel" Pear Cake. It's based on a recipe from Canadian Living – Upside-Down Buttermilk Pear Cake. I'm taking liberties by changing the name, but the buttermilk isn't a dominant flavour, and to me this cake is all about the caramel sauce. It makes the cake rich and moist and perfectly complements the pears without being sickly sweet. 

I followed CLs recipe pretty closely, with the exception of using a 10'' round cake pan, instead of a 9'' square cake pan, which I thought would be prettier and more birthday-like. I also doubled the caramel sauce recipe, using about a quarter more in my version, because reviewers said it didn't have enough or as much caramel sauce as the photograph showed on the site and that it got absorbed into the cake. Now, this was a risk and I'm not sure it's one I would repeat. I know CL Food Director, Annabel Waugh, and she and her team test their recipes diligently. What I found is that the extra sauce was absorbed into the cake anyway, making it almost too moist. The reviewers were right, though – the photo shows a deceptive amount of caramel glistening on top of the pears. I've been to many food photography shoots and the truth is, a food stylist is to a recipe what a makeup artist is to a model – and just like models, food photography gets its fair share of retouching. Next time I make this – this recipe's a keeper! – I will double the caramel sauce but reserve the extra half for drizzling on the pears once the cake comes out of the oven. I'll let you know how that works out.

Regardless, my hubby was a pretty happy guy!

Upside-Down Caramel Pear Cake
* adapted from Canadian Living 

1/2 cup unsalted butter

1 cup packed brown sugar

1 tbsp + 1 tsp lemon juice

3 firm ripe pears

(Note: except for the pears, halve the above ingredients to follow the original recipe)

Buttermilk Cake:

• 1/2 cup unsalted butter, softened
• 1/3 cup granulated sugar
• 1/3 cup packed brown sugar
• 2 eggs
• 1 tsp vanilla
• 1-1/3 cups all-purpose flour
• 1-1/2 tsp baking powder
• 1/2 tsp baking soda
• 1 pinch salt
• 3/4 cup buttermilk

To make the sauce: In a saucepan over medium heat, cook brown sugar, butter and lemon juice, stirring, until sugar is dissolved, about 2 min. Pour into greased and parchment paper–lined 10'' round cake pan or 9'' square cake pan to form a thin layer on the bottom. Peel, core and slice pears. Arrange pears in pan over caramel sauce. 

To make the cake: In large bowl, beat butter with granulated and brown sugars until fluffy; beat in eggs and vanilla. Whisk together flour, baking powder, baking soda and salt; stir into butter mixture alternately with buttermilk, making 3 additions of dry ingredients and 2 of buttermilk. Pour over pears, smoothing to edges of pan. Bake in 350ºF oven for about 40 min. until toothpick inserted in centre comes out clean. Let cool in pan for 10 minutes. Invert onto serving plate.

Bosc pears – firmer are better for baking  

Layer pears over the caramel

Pour the batter on top