#bittman project

Three things are true at the same time. The world is much better; the world is awful, and the world can be much better.

Max Roser

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For me, the shopping is as much a part of cooking as the peeling and the chopping, and I linger in the butcher shop, the farmers’ market, and the cheese store. Food people are eager to share their knowledge, and the small exchanges that take place across the counter are precious to me. It’s not about the recipes; these daily conversations ground me in the world, anchoring me in time and place.

The physical act of cooking gives me enormous pleasure, but I also like watching what it does for others. Even the angriest person is soothed by the scent of soup simmering on the stove. The aroma of flour, sugar, and butter mingling in the oven is a better tonic than any alcohol. And the best recipe for a good evening is a dish so fragrant that it makes the tongue-tied start to talk. The formula is simple: when you cook for people, they feel cared for.

Socca

Years ago, Kerri and I started making mock socca with different flours – because, after all, it’s just a big thin pancake. Wheat is good: buckwheat, too. There are undoubtedly traditions in using these, not for socca/farinata, but for similar roasted pancakes elsewhere.

Last night, I did it with purple barley, which was local (and given to me by Glynwood’s resident grain genius, June Russell) – and it was sensational. (Hayden Flour grinds it, as do others. I ground my own, I’m proud/embarrassed to report, with my little MockMill.) I will confess I used a little sourdough and let the thing rest for a few hours first, but that was because I have the sourdough. But let me walk you through it both ways:

Traditional: Mix one cup chickpea flour (or fava bean flour, or a combination, or almost any whole-grain or whole-bean flour) with warm water to a thin pancake flour consistency; it should be pourable. Add a big pinch of salt and about a teaspoon of black pepper. You can let it sit for a while (and this was always part of our recipe, though really, I’m not sure it matters) or just proceed. Heat the oven to 500°F; while it’s heating, put a 12- or 14-inch round pan in there (the bigger one is better) – it can be a devoted socca pan, or a cast-iron skillet, or something like this awesome comal from Masienda. When it’s hot, add about ¼ cup of oil; put some chopped onion in the batter (let’s say 1 medium), and some rosemary if you have it, and pour that into the pan – be careful, obviously – trying not to let the pan cool much. It’ll sizzle. Bake, turning the pan occasionally, about 10 minutes or a little longer, until the socca browns on the edges and is dry elsewhere. (Better to let it burn a little on the edges than to have the center too moist, in my opinion.) Eat immediately.

Adapted: Mix about 50g each of starter and water with 100g of flour (I used barley, as I said, but again any whole-grain flour or bean flour will work), and water and stir; add water if necessary to make a thick, stirrable batter. Let sit for an hour, or six – I don’t think this matters much. Heat the oven and proceed as above, thinning the batter at the last minute with more water to make it pourable. Bake as above also. [Editor’s note: You can find another of Mark’s socca recipes here.]

I write this at 7:30 a.m. I assure you I will be making another tonight. Once you start, you cannot stop.

Salsa Verde on Everything!

Roast about a dozen tomatillos, a couple of cloves of garlic, and a jalapeño or two on a sheet pan at 425°F for about a half-hour, or until you can smell the caramelization. Take them out and let them cool a bit and take off the skins. Pour a quarter cup of neutral oil into a blender or food processor. Add the garlic, the tomatillos, chiles, and a handful of cilantro without the stems, and puree or pulse for a chunkier consistency.

 (Or you can take Diana Kennedy’s method she learned in Central Mexico: Don’t roast the vegetables and swap the jalapeños for serranos. Boil the tomatillo for 5 minutes. Don’t worry about the skins. Keep the serranos raw. Blend, then before serving, use additional cilantro and finely chopped white onion for garnish.)

Other ways to use this treasure of a sauce:

Turn it into soup: Sauté the aromatics first (with or without protein), then thin with water or stock and add root vegetables or greens. (Tortilla soup and posole are a natural fit here.)

Use it to poach eggs or silken tofu.

Make cornbread with it as some or all of the liquid.

Simmer tortilla chips in some for chilaquiles.

Use it for some or all of the liquid to cook rice or grains.