Mahi Mahi and Semi-Dried Pickled Root Vegetables with Herb Salt

There are plenty of challenges for a restaurant to source all of its food locally in a place like Austin where we have 80 degree December days when the farmers’ markets are bursting with great produce. So, imagine what it must be like to rely on local ingredients at a restaurant in Sweden where winter is long and dark and summer is brief. And yet, that challenge is just what makes Faviken Magasinet, a mountain estate and restaurant in northern Sweden, so interesting. In the new book Faviken, Magnus Nilsson describes how he transformed the menu to take advantage of the best of locally produced food and make the remote restaurant a destination. I recently received a review copy of the book. The restaurant’s menu changes throughout the year and even from day to day depending on what’s available. Gardens just outside the kitchen supply freshly-picked vegetables and herbs in the summer, and that produce is then carefully stored, dried, pickled, fermented, or otherwise preserved for winter use. For meats, Nilsson has sought out specific breeds of animals, raised ethically to the ages he prefers, from nearby farms. For instance, his preference for beef is that from dairy cows that are five to ten years old. The chicken, which happens to be Brahmas, are raised to an age of about eight months, and along with ducks, geese, and quails, they’re raised for the restaurant at a local farm. Game is hunted, wild herbs and berries are foraged, and fish is brought from the closest shore.

It was fascinating to read about dinner service at Faviken and how precisely everything is timed. The dining room seats sixteen, and everyone is seated and served at the same time. The carefully chosen, dried, cut, and precisely cooked meats are placed on warmed plates which are hurried to the dining room. There’s a practiced choreography of cooking, plating, and delivery. In the summer, vegetables are picked in the garden moments before they land on plates. Kale is described as “steamed so briefly that it is dying on the plate.” I’d love to see this kitchen in action, and I’d love to taste the food. The recipes in the book are presented exactly as they are prepared in the restaurant. That means some ingredients and techniques seem very particular like “one lavender petal from last summer” and “vinegar matured in the burned-out trunk of a spruce tree.” But, I took the recipes as inspiration to think seasonally about what’s available here and now. I was intrigued by a dish in the book that included a pork chop and semi-dried pickled root vegetables. I replaced the pork with a simply seared piece of fish, and focused on the pickled vegetables. I stopped by the farmers’ market and found two kinds of carrots, Chioggia beets, red radishes, and daikon radish. I made a brine with apple cider vinegar, sugar, and salt and added fennel seeds, black peppercorns, and dried red chiles. The chopped root vegetables became quick, refrigerator pickles which I chilled for a few days. Then, I followed the instructions for the semi-dried pickled vegetables in the book. The vegetables were sliced and left on a parchment-lined baking sheet to dry for a couple of days. Then, they were sliced into skinny sticks. I also made the herb salt from the book which is one way fresh herbs are preserved for the winter at the restaurant. I gathered oregano and chives from my herb garden, chopped them in a food processor, mixed them with sea salt, and pushed the mix through a sieve. Nilsson explains that as the herb salt slowly dulls over the winter months, he finds the change in flavor interesting. To keep the herb salt bright green, it can be stored in the freezer.

The semi-dried pickled vegetables were chewy and maintained good puckery flavor. They were a great match to a simple piece of fish, and the herb salt added a fresh savoriness. I didn’t attempt to create a full progression of dishes as would be served at the restaurant, but I enjoyed taking bits and pieces from the book for a simple meal. There’s a lot to be inspired by in the book and applied to what’s available wherever you’re cooking.

I am a member of the Amazon Affiliate Program.

Wheat Berries with Vegetables

Perhaps this post should have come with a hippie food warning. Wheat berries with lots of vegetables isn’t exactly decadent, drool-worthy fare. But, considering that I spared you the millet pilaf of last weekend and the brown lentil salad on mixed baby greens from last Wednesday, I was hoping you’d have a look at this dish. I cut this recipe from an issue of Living magazine eight years ago. Of course wheat berries are a whole grain and are very good for you, but they’re also nutty-tasting, filling, and delightfully chewy. Since my fall CSA just started last week, I was happy to use the eggplant, yellow squash, and tatsoi from my first pick-up in this. The dish also includes chopped, canned tomatoes, garlic, and fresh oregano, and with that mix, it takes on that pleasing pizza parlor aroma that works as well as a dinner bell.

First, the wheat berries were placed in a large saucepan and covered with water which was brought to a boil, and then they simmered for 40 minutes until tender. When the wheat berries were about half-way cooked, I started sauteing the vegetables. Minced yellow onion and garlic were sauteed in olive oil and once softened, chopped eggplant, yellow squash, and broccoli were added. After cooking for a few minutes, chopped, canned tomatoes were added with fresh oregano, and that was left to simmer for 10 minutes or so. Last, the cooked and drained wheat berries were added, and I tossed in a handful or two of fresh tatsoi leaves just because I had them. After the wheat berries were incorporated and warmed through, the dish was ready to serve, and I topped it with chopped parsley.

I know it looks like something that makes you think dessert better be really good, but it’s not like that, I promise. That pizza parlor thing I mentioned about the tomatoes, garlic, and oregano give the dish a lively flavor while forming a sauce. The fresh, crunchy, sauteed vegetables contrast with the chewy wheat berries and give lots of varied texture. Admittedly, I like hippie food, but the flavors here were so good it might not belong in that much maligned category.

Sourdough Starter and Bread Adventure: 5 Parmesan Cheese Bread

The one problem with baking bread is that I then eat the bread. It smells so good, and it’s so fresh, and each type I’ve tried so far is so different from the last that I can’t resist the baking or the eating. You know the rule about reading a recipe all the way through before beginning? That is never more important than with a bread recipe, and luckily I actually followed that rule this time. Some breads are prepared in one day, and others can take multiple days. Most of the time is spent waiting, but it’s good to know what those wait times are so you can plan accordingly. This parmesan cheese bread is, again, from the Bread from the La Brea Bakery book. It’s described as a two-day bread. However, on day two, the dough is left in the refrigerator to proof for eight to twelve hours. When I read that, this recipe became a three-day bread for me.

Day one was actually not much of a day at all since the only thing to be done was to make a sponge from water, white starter, and flour. That fermented for twelve hours. On day two, the dough was formed from the sponge, more water, fresh yeast, and flour. This was mixed, allowed to rest, and then salt was added. Silverton suggested adding chopped, fresh marjoram to the dough, and I have some in my herb garden, but I chose to use my fresh oregano instead. I just prefer the flavor of oregano. So, chopped oregano, freshly grated parmigiano reggiano, and olive oil were then mixed into the dough. It was turned out onto a board and kneaded briefly. It felt like all the cheese was falling out of the dough as I turned and kneaded it, but it worked out fine. The dough then fermented for a few hours in an oiled bowl, and as it expanded, it pulled all the cheese in and became more cohesive.

Next, the dough was slapped onto the work surface to deflate, left to rest a bit, rounded into a boule, and placed in a regular bowl since I’m still lacking the recommended proofing baskets. This was covered with plastic wrap and refrigerated until the next day. On what was for me day three, or baking day, the dough was removed from the refrigerator and allowed to come up to room temperature. It was turned out onto parchment paper and flattened into a disk. It was dimpled with my fingertips and brushed with olive oil. More parmigiano reggiano was spread on top, and it was, at last, placed with the parchment into a water-spritzed 500 degree oven that was immediately turned down to 450. The oven got another couple of water spritzes, and after 15 minutes, the parchment paper under the loaf was removed. The total baking time was 35 minutes, but because it was baking directly on a stone on the base of my oven, it browned quickly on the bottom. I moved the loaf up to a higher rack for the last 10 minutes.

The crispy baked-on parmigiano on the top was a real attention getter, but the chewy inside of the loaf was not to be ignored. The cheese melted into the dough, and the texture was soft and lovely. This loaf was less airy than the rustic bread but not dense. Sadly, the oregano that smelled so fantastic as the loaf baked, seemed to all but disappear. When I sliced it, there were only a few tiny flecks. Next time, I’ll add more. I’m also wondering about adding chunks of parmigiano in addition to the grated cheese. The parmesan bread in the bakery at Central Market has chunks in it which are so flavorful when you bite into them. That’s for next time. For now, I think the rest of this loaf will find its way into a meal with some soup.

I’m submitting this to Yeastspotting where you’ll find some seriously well-made bread.