As promised, following the simple instructions produced a perfect dough for the empanadas. Flour and salt were combined in a food processor, and pieces of butter were added and pulsed. Sour cream was spread around on the surface of the flour-butter mixture so it would mix in more easily. A few pulses later, the dough was ready. It was shaped into a disk and chilled for a few hours. Meanwhile, I started on the filling. I used a mix of fresh spinach and Swiss chard. Lots of scallions were chopped, garlic was minced, and anchovies were finely chopped. Oil was heated in a large saute pan, and the scallions were added followed by the garlic and anchovies. I added the spinach and chard directly to the scallion mixture without pre-cooking. It was seasoned with salt and pepper and smoked paprika. Parsley was added last. I tipped the pan to the side and let the moisture run away from the spinach and chard before removing it to a bowl to cool. After the dough had chilled, I divided it into eight pieces and rolled each into a round. The sour cream made it especially tender and easy to roll. I stacked the rounds between pieces of parchment, covered the stack with plastic wrap, and chilled them overnight. The next day, I filled each dough round with some of the spinach and chard mixture and shaped the empanadas. They were brushed with an egg wash and baked for about 25 minutes.
The dough was incredibly easy to roll and resulted in that perfectly fragile, shatteringly crisp texture just like it should. The filling was savory and flavorful with the scallions and anchovies. I was thrilled with the result and can’t wait to try more things from the book. And, I’m already ready to start baking for Thanksgiving. I predict several dessert options on the table this year.
Argentine Christmas Eve Empanadas (Empanadas de Vigilia)
Recipe reprinted with publisher's permission from Nick Malgieri's Pastry
These spinach empanadas make a delicious alternative to the typical meat-laden ones and are traditionally eaten on Christmas Eve, a day of abstinence from meat in Catholic countries. These are usually deep-fried, but I decided to bake them—it’s easier, and they turn out much less rich.
Makes eight 7-inch empanadas
1 batch Sour Cream Dough, chilled
2 pounds baby spinach, rinsed and drained, or 2 10-ounce packages frozen chopped spinach, thawed, squeezed dry, and chopped
3 tablespoons olive oil
1 cup finely sliced scallions (the white part and half the green)
2 cloves garlic, grated
1 ounce anchovy fillets packed in olive oil, finely chopped
Fine sea salt and freshly ground black pepper
2 tablespoons chopped fresh flat-leaf parsley
1 1/2 teaspoons hot Spanish paprika (pimenton)
Egg wash: 1 egg well whisked with a pinch of salt
1. Put the fresh spinach with the rinse water still clinging to it in a large Dutch oven with a lid. Place over medium heat, cover, and steam for a few minutes until it reduces in volume. Uncover and, stirring occasionally, cook for 1 to 2 minutes longer. Drain, cool, and chop the spinach.
2. Put the oil and scallions into a large saucepan over medium heat. Once the scallions start to sizzle, lower the heat and cook slowly, stirring often, until tender, about 5 minutes. Stir in the garlic and cook for a few seconds. Stir in the chopped spinach and anchovies; cook for a minute or two. If using frozen spinach, cook a couple of minutes longer at this point.
3. Taste the spinach and season with salt and pepper. Stir in the parsley and paprika. Cool the filling.
4. While the filling is cooling, divide the dough into 80-gram pieces and shape each into a flat disk. Roll each piece of dough into an 8-inch disk and chill if you’re not going to assemble the empanadas immediately.
5. Arrange the disks of dough on the work surface and brush the edges with water. Divide the filling equally among the dough rounds, mounding it in the center of each one. Fold the dough over to make a fat half-moon-shaped pastry.
6. Press the edges of the pastry together with a fingertip, then fold and overlap the edge of the dough to seal the empanadas.
7. Chill the empanadas, loosely covered with plastic wrap, until you’re ready to bake them, up to 24 hours. When you’re ready to bake, set a rack in the lower third of the oven and preheat to 400°F.
8. Arrange the empanadas on a cookie sheet lined with parchment and brush them with the egg wash, making sure not to let puddles accumulate on or under the empanadas. Place the pan in the oven, lower the temperature to 375°F, and bake until deep golden, 20 to 25 minutes.
9. Cool the empanadas briefly on the pan on a rack and serve warm.
Sour Cream Dough
My dear late friend Sheri Portwood ran a Dallas catering business for years and was constantly trying to perfect her recipe for rugelach, which uses this dough. I’ve included recipes for rugelach in several other books, but I love this dough as the top of a deep-dish savory pie, a cobbler (especially when it’s cut into separate overlapping disks for the top crust), or for any top-crust-only pie. It’s flaky, extremely tender, and delicate, almost like puff pastry. A food processor does the best job of mixing this.
2 cups/270 grams unbleached all-purpose flour (spoon into dry-measure cup and level)
1/2 teaspoon fine sea salt
8 ounces/2 sticks/225 grams unsalted butter, chilled and cut into 20 pieces
2/3 cup/150 grams sour cream
1. Combine the flour and salt in the bowl of a food processor and pulse several times at 1-second intervals to mix.
2. Add the butter and pulse until it's finely mixed into the flour and no visible pieces remain.
3. Spread the sour cream all over on the top of the flour and butter mixture (rather than adding it all in one spot). Pulse 3 or 4 times; if the dough is already starting to form a ball, stop pulsing; if not, pulse a few more times but don’t overmix or the flaky quality of the dough will be lost.
4. Invert the dough onto a lightly floured work surface. Shape into a disk and wrap in plastic.
5. Chill the dough for 2 to 3 hours or overnight before using. Makes enough for the top crust of a large savory pie or sweet cobbler or 8 empanadas.
















The stuffed piquillo recipe in the book is found under the title veal-stuffed piquillo peppers. In the intro to that recipe, von Bremzen explains that the classic version usually involves a stuffing of seafood with bechamel sauce, and she suggests alternate ideas instead of veal. I went the seafood route and made a shrimp stuffing. I chopped some shrimp, sauteed them in olive oil with a little chopped garlic, and then added a bechamel. Once cool, that mixture was stuffed into the piquillos, and the peppers were chilled in the refrigerator to set. Meanwhile, a sauce was made by sauteing finely chopped onion and garlic in olive oil, and to that, chopped piquillos and grated tomato were added. I’d never grated a tomato before, but you simply cut it in half, grate it on a box grater, and discard the skin. After the sauce with the tomato added had reduced, sweet and hot paprika and white wine were added. Last, a little cream enriched the sauce. Some of this sauce went into the bottom of a baking dish, the stuffed peppers were placed on top, and the remaining sauce was poured over the peppers. I should explain, an optional step in this recipe is to bread and fry the stuffed piquillos just before placing them in the baking dish with the sauce. I skipped that option and baked the naked, stuffed peppers in the sauce until warm. These little guys were delightful with chunks of shrimp in the smooth bechamel and the paprika and cream in the sauce. This was a plate and fork kind of tapa, and it was hands-down our favorite if we had to pick only one.
The olive spread was next. I already have a favorite black olive tapenade, but I wanted to try this one just to see how it compared. I was intrigued by the use of anchovy and a hard-cooked egg yolk here. The entire mixture included black olives, anchovies, capers, garlic, one cooked egg yolk, rum, yes rum, mustard, and olive oil. This was a rich and flavorful olive spread and the anchovies and rum gave it spunk. I like a good bit of parsley in an olive spread, so I sprinkled some on top. I already declared the stuffed piquillos our favorite item of the night, but there were no disappointments here. I’ll be making all of these again, and from now on whether I’m making this olive spread or my old stand-by, it will have some rum in it.

The next step in the process was the sauce. I don’t know why, but it had never occurred to me that the fresh, light sauce I’ve loved so much on pizzas in restaurants was uncooked. To make the sauce as described in the book, you open a can of San Marzano tomatoes and pour them into a bowl. Squish them with your hands until the tomatoes are broken into small pieces, and add a little sea salt. That’s it. If the canned tomatoes are watery, pour off some water before you begin squishing.
This was definitely better than my regular pizza. The dough had developed more flavor from the longer, slower rising time. Of course, it lacked that amazing wood-fired flavor of a great pizza, but I’m just comparing it to my typical, homemade version. The chile oil was a knock-out. It was a rare pizza experience during which I didn’t miss the cheese. The simple sauce was perfect. That’s all a pizza sauce needs to be. And, the wine worked very nicely with the spicy, salty pizza toppings. The Falanghina was a balanced wine with a little crispness but also good body. It wasn’t as crisp as a Sauvignon Blanc and not as buttery as a Chardonnay, but it fell somewhere in between and deliciously so.

This makes more romesco than necessary to dress a salad made with one head of romaine. So, you could either make it all into salad dressing and save half for another day, or reserve half of the romesco for another use which is what I did. So, to continue:
I served the salad with a few goat cheese stuffed peppers on the side. I used fresh caribe and hatch peppers. Hatch chile season started last weekend, and I plan to use a lot more of those in the next few weeks. For this meal, I just grabbed a few of the smallest ones in the bin. I also stuffed a few marinated peppadew peppers to add a little flavor and color variety. I used four ounces of goat cheese and one minced clove of garlic and stirred those together with salt and pepper. 
Romesco caesar, rustic wheat crostini, and goat cheese stuffed peppers were fantastic together. I’ve mentioned before that Kurt rarely comments on a meal without being questioned or prompted in some way. Well, this was one of those rare occasions on which he expressed his delight all of his own volition. He proclaimed the salad good eatin’, was very pleased with the shiny anchovy fillets, and quite liked the stuffed peppers. I too was very happy with the meal. The peppers were a burst of great flavor, and each type had its own unique appeal. The yellow caribes were especially good. The salad was as delicious as I remember it from Fino. Maybe next time I’ll use manchego; there’s always an excuse for more tinkering.