BSP3 Part Two: Peachy Keen Canning - Peach-Plum-Ginger Jam

Do you know Food in Jars? It's the absolutely wonderful blog authored by that genius of jam, Marisa McClellan.  Marisa's warm and inviting writing style welcomes you into her kitchen as she shares her preserving adventures, experiments, successes and near misses.  No matter what's bubbling in the pot, Marisa's blog makes you want to take a peek inside, dip a spoon in, and taste whatever deliciousness she's cooking.  Or better yet, load up at the farmers' market and try to capture all that ripe goodness in a jar for yourself.

I was beyond thrilled when I saw that Marisa was going to be at BSP3 this year.  But I also couldn't believe she had been at last year's gathering; Marisa, how have I missed meeting you two years in a row? 

Never mind.  A highlight of BSP was watching Marisa make plum jam, demonstrating her canning alchemy with grace and humour in 90˚ heat.  And best of all, I won one of Marisa's hot off the press cookbooks, the gorgeous Food in Jars.  With peaches in season and the best they've been in years, it was time to get back into the kitchen with Marisa.   

Peach-Plum-Ginger Jam
from Food in Jars, Marisa McClellan
makes approx 8 half pint jars

If you haven't canned before, this link will take you to my blog post on making plum jam, filled with step by step photos and further links to great canning sites (plus a super easy recipe for Italian plum jam).

Marisa doesn't specify what type of plums to use; whatever is in season and bursting with ripeness is the right choice.  I was lucky to get sweet and sunny Shiro plums; their bright yellow added a golden glow to the jam.

8 c peeled, pitted and mashed peaches (about 4 lb)
4 c pitted and mashed Shiro plums
6 c granulated sugar
1 c ginger juice*

*To make ginger juice, shred an 8 oz piece of peeled ginger, cut into large chunks, in a blender with ½ c of water.  Pour the ginger pulp into a cheesecloth lined sieve and squeeze out the liquid, discarding the remaining pulp.

1.  Prep your canning equipment. Clean and sterilise half pint jars by washing them in warm soapy water and rinsing thoroughly; putting them through the quick wash cycle in the dishwasher is even easier and ensures sterilization. Set aside on a clean tea towel.

2. Wash the lids and the bands.  Keep the lids hot in a small pot of simmering water.  Fill your canner with water, add the clean jars, and put on the stove over medium high heat.

3.  Combine the fruit, sugar and ginger juice in a large pot.  Attach a candy thermometer to the side of the pot and bring the jam to a simmer.  Increase the heat and boil the jam briskly until it reaches 220˚F, or it passes the saucer/spoon test.



4.  Drain the jars from the water bath, and pour the hot jam into the jars.  Apply lids and bands, put back in water bath and bring to a boil.  Process for 10 minutes, remove from water and set aside to cool thoroughly.

Peach-Plum-Ginger Jam; delicious with freshly baked croissants

Big Summer Potluck 3 Part One: Water Bugging

This morning I did something rather unusual.  I started my day by not water bugging.

No matter what day of the week, my mornings unfold in more or less the same way.  Make tea, coffee for Richard if he’s not travelling.  Feed Trixie, and whatever neighbourhood cats show up at the front door.  Turn on the radio.  And finally, impatiently, eagerly, sit down at my computer and re-establish my place in the digital world.  What Facebook updates have I missed?  Did anyone repin something from my Pinterest boards? What photos were posted on Instagram? Twitter…ah Twitter, how I love and hate you.  With my two accounts, there are endless conversations to be part of, articles to read and retweet, messages to launch, like so many tiny missiles, into the vast endless Twittersphere universe.  

And then there are work emails.  While I’ve been sleeping, Asia and Europe have been busy as bees, filling my inbox with questions, FYIs, requests and projects.  I’m fully engaged with all neurons firing, even though it’s only 6:30 am.

But here’s the thing. With all that activity, I haven’t had a single live human moment. I’ve been so busy trying just to keep up that I haven’t really tuned in.

So as I’ve been thinking about BSP3 and imagining what I might share about that transformative experience, I keep going back to water bugging.   

Have you heard of water bugging?  It’s the speedy skim, the surface conversation, the lightening quick flitting from one thing to another, all, of seeming very important and making you feel terribly busy.  But water bugging never gets beneath the surface, down into the depths of things: to that scary place underneath the rock in the deepest part of the lake; to the magical beauty that inexplicably survives 30 feet below the water. 

The Big Summer Potluck is all about what lies beneath.  It’s the antithesis of water bugging, made evident in every minute with abundance of real human moments abounding all around us.  It’s about bringing together the natural community that forms around food and amplifying it, shining a megawatt light on all that really should matter.

Unexpected beauty

As so as they have magically done for three years now, Maggy, Erika and Pam bring together people that force us to get our hair wet, to dive deeper into the lake that is our hearts and really connect with not just each other, but ourselves.  I’ll share more about the collective awesomeness of Brooke Burton-Lüttmann, Joy Wilson, Marisa McClellan and Molly O’Neill in a future post, and how, in their very distinctive ways, each of them pulled us into the lake with joyous splashes.

But right now it’s 9:30 am.  I’m in my garden, the cacophony of honey bees burrowing in the anemones impossibly loud and delicious.  The digital world is a click away, but I’m swatting that particular water bug down for the moment.  I have a husband to call who’s far away, and human moments to create.

With heartfelt thanks to Maggy for her water bugging intro to BSP3 and the amazing sponsors who made BSP3 possible, memorable and tasty!

Musselman's Apple Butter

KitchenAid

Kerrygold

Anolon

Green Mountain Coffee

Attune Foods

Tasty Kitchen

Driscoll's 

Summertime Baking: Rhubarb Upside Down Cake

fleet·ing (flē’tĭng)  adj. Passing quickly; ephemeral

There is the slow, snail-like wait.  Daylight encroaching into darkness at an ever-later hour; the thermostat rising in degrees haltingly like a cranky mid-century oven.  Closets in between sweaters and shorts; shoots barely breaking the soil to reach for the sun.

And then suddenly it's summer - blazingly hot, electric blue-sky summer. The heat blasts at 500˚F, and the days start to get inexplicably shorter, even before the dog days have truly begun.  The flowers wilt in the heat and you do too, cooling off in barely there dresses and flipflops.  Your favourites - the ones that you have waited for with longing and anticipation - make their glorious entrance and just as quickly begin to maddeningly disappear.  Juicy peaches; the season's first cherries and strawberries; asparagus so tender green it makes you weak. 

Here today, gone tomorrow rhubarb

And perhaps most fleetingly of all, ruby red, tangy, tart and slender rhubarb stalks.   While strawberries and rhubarb have had a long love affair with one another, I prefer to give this most ephemeral of vegetables a starring role all of its own.  The taste will linger long after rhubarb pulls up its roots and leaves town. 

Rhubarb Upside Down Cake

with slight adaptations, from Melissa Clark, New York Times 

serves 8-10

1¼ c unsalted butter (2½ sticks), at room temperature

1½  pounds rhubarb, rinsed and sliced into ½-inch cubes (about 6 cups)

1 tbsp cornstarch

1½ c granulated sugar plus 2 tbsp

½ c light brown sugar plus 2 tbsp

2 c cake flour

1½ tsp baking powder

½ tsp fine sea salt

Zest of 1 lemon, grated

1 tsp vanilla bean paste

4 large eggs

⅓ c sour cream

2 tsp lemon juice

1. Heat oven to 325˚F.  Line the bottom of a 9-inch springform pan with parchment paper. Butter the paper and sides of the pan. Wrap two layers of foil under the pan, and place it on a baking sheet.

2.  In a medium bowl, mix rhubarb, cornstarch and ½ cup plus 2 tbsp of granulated sugar.

3.  Sift together the cake flour, baking powder and salt and set aside.

4.  Blend the remaining 1 cup sugar with lemon zest with your fingers until the zest is distributed evenly throughout the sugar.  Set aside.

5.  In a stand mixer, cream 1 c butter for two minutes. Add the lemon zest-sugar mixture and cream together with the butter at medium-high speed until it is light and fluffy, about 4 minutes, scraping down the bowl periodically.

6.  Add the vanilla bean paste and mix well. Add the eggs, one at a time, mixing well after each addition. Mix in the sour cream, and then the lemon juice. 

7.  Turn the mixer to low, and slowly add the flour mixture, ¼ cup at a time, until well combined, scraping down the bowl periodically.  The mixture should be very light and fluffy. Set aside.

5.  Heat all of the brown sugar and remaining ¼ c butter in a pan over medium heat. Whisk until smooth and bubbling, about 2 minutes.

6.  Pour the brown-sugar mixture into the prepared cake pan, then spoon in the rhubarb and its juices. Spoon in the batter so it covers all of the rhubarb, smoothing out the top evenly.

7.  Bake for 1 hour and 15 minutes.  At this stage check for doneness: if the top of the cake is firm and springs back and a toothpick stuck in the middle comes out clean, it is done.  In my oven, the cake takes 1 hour and 45 minutes to completely bake, so don't worry about overbaking the cake.

8.  Place the pan on a wire rack, and cool for 15 minutes. Run a knife around the cake, place a plate on top of the pan and turn it upside-down.

Enjoy with a cold glass of milk and save room for seconds.

Peas Please: Sweet Pea Summer Soup with Marjoram

Is there anything more delicious than a simple bowl of sweet pea soup?  The variations are infinite, needing only imagination and whatever the garden or cupboard will yield.  Pick a herb; parsley for freshness, basil for bite, mint for green coolness.  Choose a base: something from the allium family; liquid as simple as water or as complex as rich chicken stock.  Fresh peas are best; in a pinch or in the dead of winter, frozen nearly as good. The pleasure of leisurely shelling peas on a warm summer afternoon is almost as satisfying as sipping the results.  Served warm or chilled, sweet pea soup is what summer is all about.

Sweet Pea Summer Soup with Marjoram
serves 4-6

You don't need to plan far in advance for sweet pea soup.  With willing hands to help with shelling, the soup can be ready and on the table in less than 30 minutes.  I love using marjoram for a unique and subtle flavour that complements the fresh green sweet pea taste.

Farmer's market peas, ready for shelling

1 leek, trimmed and thinly sliced (about 1 cup)
⅛ lb pancetta, minced into very small pieces

1 shallot, minced

2 tbsp unsalted butter

2-3 sprigs marjoram

4 cups chicken broth

4 cups fresh shucked peas (or 4 c frozen, thawed)
Salt and white pepper (optional) to taste

¼ cup heavy cream

1.  Melt butter over low heat and add leek, pancetta and shallot.  Saute, stirring occasionally, until vegetables are very soft, about 10 minutes.  Do not brown.

2.  Add the majoram and the broth, turn heat to medium and bring to a simmer.  Add peas and simmer for 6-8 minutes.  Turn heat off and let soup cool slightly.  Remove marjoram sprigs.

3.  In a blender or food processor, puree soup in batches. 

4.  Warm soup over medium heat, adding ¼ cup heavy cream and stirring to incorporate. Season with salt and white pepper to taste. Serve with crème fraiche, if desired.  Soup can also be served chilled.

Serve this flavourful soup warm or slightly chilled

Toasting Spain: Spanish Style Stuffed Prunes

European football isn’t usually my thing.  I’d be hard pressed to tell you who plays for Manchester City or Manchester United, or what the difference is between A.C Milan and F.C Internazionale Milano.  But I do love championship football.  The athleticism, the speed, the elaborate hairdos and drama – all of it combines for high octane entertainment.

Living in Toronto makes it easy to know what’s going on and who’s winning. Cars suddenly spout flags and a victory for Portugal or Italy in my neighbourhood is signalled by cars honking long into the night.  Fever pitch excitement mounted all across the city last week as the finals for Euro Cup 2012 wound down to Sunday’s Italy-Spain showdown.   

My patriotic Italian blood runs high when Italy makes it beyond the preliminary rounds.  But I also know when my team is outplayed.  Spain came in and dominated from the first kick of the ball.  In honour of the winning team, here's a sweet and salty bocadillo to nibble with cocktails.  It somehow makes defeat a little easier to bear.

Stuffed Prunes

(adapted from Tapas, by Simone and Ines Ortega)

3-4 oz Stilton or Roquefort cheese

¼ c raisins

¼ toasted pine nuts

1 tbsp sweet sherry

12-15 pitted prunes

1.  In a small bowl, mash the cheese gently with a fork until creamy.  Stir in the remaining ingredients and mix thoroughly until combined.

2.  Fill each prune with a teaspoonful of filling.  Refrigerate if making ahead, bringing to room temperature before serving.

Nutty About Butter: Easy Homemade Walnut Butter

I am a firm believer that everything's better with butter.  No, not margarine, or butter substitute (do you remember I Can't Believe It's Not Butter? Yep, they still make it).  The soft creaminess, the rich flavour, the inimitable depth that even a small pat of butter can impart cannot be replaced. 

The amazing thing about this most elemental of ingredients is just how easy it is to make at home.  I did just that for first time a couple of years ago and it opened my eyes to a world of possibilities.  If cream alone could be transformed by some strange alchemy into butter, what else might I make? 

If you've bought anything like a nut butter lately, you'll know what a pricey proposition that can be.  Make it organic and double the price.  So why not make nut butter at home?  The possibilities are as endless as the diversity of nuts available.  Almond butter seems like the obvious choice, so I decided to try something a little more out of the ordinary. 

What about walnuts? Raw walnuts have a hint of tannic bitterness, and I wondered if toasting the walnuts would take the edge off.  To smooth it off even more, and add a bit of buttery creaminess, I mixed in a handful of cashews.  The result is a deliciously different nut butter, perfect for a just toasted piece of dense nutty German bread, such as those made by Mestemacher.

Easy Walnut Butter

makes approximately 2 cups

3 c walnuts

1 c cashews

1.  Preheat oven to 350F.

2.  Spread the walnuts and cashews evenly on a baking sheet.  Toast for five to seven minutes, or until colour is slightly darkened and nuts are fragrant. 

3.  Blend for threee to five minutes in food processor, or until creamy smooth.

Toast your favourite bread, spread lavishly and enjoy a bite of healthy and delicious goodness

A Winter Cheat: Roasted Tomato Soup

Just about this time of year, I suffer from Seasonal Affective Disorder. The symptoms are all there: lack of energy and the ability to concentrate; slow, lethargic movement; social withdrawal; irritability. Except the cause is not what you might think. I'm perfectly fine with grey skies, and every day after the winter solstice gets reassuringly longer.

No, it's not the weather, tempting as that may be to blame. The cause of my winter doldrums is quite simple. No tomatoes. After the glory of late fall's harvest, I'm left leaden by the hard and unyielding, artificially red orbs in the produce section. Mexico's harvest doesn't tempt me, and even the baby tomatoes that grow up in greenhouses seem somehow wrong and out of place next to the kale and cabbage.

While it's noble to wait until the seasons spin around again, I still imagine there must be some easy way to extract a kernel of flavour from what's at hand. And just as the secret to a summer tomato is the heat of the sun, so too is heat the trick to bringing life to the seemingly lifeless winter tomato. This delicious soup almost manages to make you think that the sun shining outside is smiling down on leafy tomato plants and not a blanket of snow.

Roasted Tomato Soup
from Gourmet Today
serves four to six

4 lb tomatoes, halved lengthwise
6 garlic cloves, left unpeeled
3 tbsp olive oil
½ tsp salt
¼ tsp black pepper
1 medium onion, finely chopped
½ tsp dried oregano, crumbled
2 teaspoons sugar
2 tablespoons unsalted butter
3 cups chicken stock or low-sodium broth
½ cup heavy cream

1. Preheat oven to 350°F. 

2. Place tomatoes and garlic in one layer on a rimmed cookie sheet, tomatoes cut side up. Drizzle olive oil over the tomatoes and garlic; season with salt and pepper. Roast for one hour, and allow to cool.  Once garlic is cool enough to handle, peel and set aside.

3. Melt butter in a medium saucepan over moderate heat.  Add onion, oregano, and sugar and sauté, stirring frequently, until onion is softened, about five minutes. Add tomatoes, garlic, and stock and simmer, covered, for 20 minutes.

4. Let soup cool slightly and then purée in batches.  Put the soup through a sieve, discarding solids, and place in a medium saucepan. Stir in cream and salt and pepper to taste and simmer two minutes.  Sprinkle with some grated Parmigiano Reggiano, if desired, and garnish with a fresh sprig of basil.

The addition of cream gives this soup an almost carroty colour

If the thought of using winter tomatoes still doesn't appeal, wisely do what the Italians do and use canned tomatoes, sourced at their height of juicy goodness.

Simply Supreme: Blood Orange Marmalade with Star Anise and Ginger

   

Cooking is full of oddities.  Funny measures, like a a pat of butter or peck of peppers.  Archaic techniques and even stranger ways to describe them.  Baking a pie crust blind.  Bringing water to a rolling boil.  Coddling eggs. 

I love the specificity of these words, carrying with them the collective wisdom of hundreds of hands doing the same task, perfecting them and capturing their meaning in a "just so" way.  And like an amateur sleuth, I ferret out new methods and the words to describe them, collecting them like so many shells along the shore.

Here's my latest acquisition.  Supreming. A lovely word to describe a rather onerous and mundane task: that of separating the pesky membrane from a citrus fruit.  Not so bad if you're making a smallish fruit salad but a bit more daunting when faced with several pounds of citrus waiting to be transformed into marmalade. 

I first made blood orange marmalade last winter, and with the last of the jars scraped clean and a new crop of the beauties at the grocers, I wanted to try my hand at it again.  Serendipity in the form of Food in Jars smiled upon me, with this brilliant and time saving method that eliminates the need to supreme the fruit.  I added my own twist in the way of exotic spices that heighten and complement the sweet and slightly mysterious deep red oranges from way down south.  While you may not need supreme the fruit, I can assure you the results will still be quite divine.

Blood Orange Marmalade with Star Anise, Ginger and Cardamom
adapted from Food in Jars
yields approximately 6 ½ pint jars

The secret to this brilliant technique that eliminates the need to supreme is an overnight soak of the citrus fruit.  This breaks down the pith, and softens the fruit, with glorious results.

2 lbs blood oranges

2½ lbs sugar (about 5 cups)
3 star anise pods
2 inches fresh ginger, peeled and cut into thick slices
5 green cardamom pods
8 c water

1.  Wash the oranges well.  Trim each end, exposing the fruit, and cut in half.

2.  Using a very sharp knife, cut out the orange cores, removing any seeds at the same time.  Preserve both cores and seeds.

3.  Cut the orange halves into thin slices, and cut each half into three segments. You want the fruit to be as thin as possible, with small bite size segments.
 

4.  Take the reserved cores and seeds and tie them up securely with kitchen twine in cheesecloth.

5.  Put orange segments and cheesecloth bundle in a large bowl and cover with water. Cover with plastic wrap and refrigerate for 8 hours or overnight.  If time and life interfere and you need to soak the fruit longer than a day or two, do so with impunity.

6.  To cook the marmalade, remove the cheesecloth bundle with the cores and seeds and discard. Place the fruit and water in a non-reactive large pot (preferebably wide and shallow), and stir in the sugar. Place the star anise, fresh ginger and cardamom in cheesecloth, and tie securely so that none of the spices escape.  Tuck the spice bundle amongst the fruit.

7.  Bring the marmalade to a boil, reduce to a simmer, and cook until the marmalade is reduced by half or reads 220 degrees F on a candy thermometer (about 40 minutes).  Test the marmalade to ensure that it has "gelled".  Ladle marmalade into prepared jars, wipe rims, apply lids and rings, and process in a boiling water bath canner for 10 minutes.

Enjoy this delightful marmalade in a variety of ways, and not just on toast.  Try it on roast pork or as a side to a cheese plate too.

Sweet Valentine's Treat: Lucia's Amazing Walnut Bars

There are some things that are genetic.  Loud laughter.  Blue eyes.  Dark hair.  An insatiable love of figs. 

And then there are some things that, sadly, are not.  Being organised, for instance.  My oldest sister Lucia, despite her claims to the contrary, is the most organised person I know.  Label maker: check.  Jewlery sorted by colour and type: check.  Pantry laid out to a T, shopping list at the ready to capture an item that needs replenishing: well, of course - check. For all my semblance of a well-ordered life, I missed out on that particular part of the gene pool.

I was reminded of this recently when we gathered for our family Christmas celebration. The beach house she found for all 11 of us was perfect.  Christmas dinner was served on her special holiday china, carefully packed and brought just for the occasion.  The informal open house she hosted so her friends could meet her far flung family was planned to the last hors d’oeuvres.  And she baked up several batches of her delicious walnut bars, at once sweet and chewy and crunchy; a holiday tradition and family favourite.

Best of all, she made a tin for each of us to take home: a sweet reminder of a wonderful week together, beautifully orchestrated, the hard work and planning evident only in the lists occasionally glimpsed throughout the week.  As I carefully tucked the precious tin in my bag, I realised I had gotten it wrong.  Lucia was right to say that she wasn’t organised.  Organization makes things happen.  Love and thoughtfulness makes things great.  

So, as you celebrate Valentine's Day with your favourite sweetie, whip up a batch of Lucia's walnut bars.  Four simple ingredients, almost sure to be in your house.  To make them especially good, add her secret ingredient: loving kindness.  It will put them over the top.   

      

The dark hair is gone but the blue eyes and love of figs remain! 

Lucia's Amazing Walnut Bars
makes 25-30 squares
  

1½ sticks butter (either salted or unsalted)

1 cup brown sugar (slightly packed)

1½  cup finely chopped walnuts (or pecans) 

20-24 whole graham cracker wafers

1 Preheat oven to 350F

2.  In a medium sauce pan, Heat until all is melted.  Set aside to cool slightly.

3.  While mixture is cooling, place foil on a 9x12 rimmed cookie sheet.  Spray lightly with non stick spray.  Lay whole graham crackers on the cookie sheet, ensuring that there aren’t any spaces between each cracker.  You may need to trim some crackers to have the whole tray set flush.

  

4.  Spread nut mixture on and level with a spoon or spatula, making sure to reach all of the edges of the crackers.

5.  Bake 10 to 12 minutes, or until mixture is bubbling.  Be careful not to bake too long, so that the sugar doesn’t burn.

6.  Carefully lift foil out of pan from one side and slide on to counter/cutting board.  Cut into 1½ squares.  These cool very quickly so it’s better to cut while still hot. Let cool completely.  Place in airtight container, using wax paper between layers. 

Can be made ahead although they won’t last for long! 

Holiday Open House Countdown Part Three: It's the Little Things

Every year, when I’m cooking dozens and dozens of hors d’oeuvres for the Open House, I’m reminded of Mrs. Flax, the mother in the movie Mermaids.  Played brilliantly by Cher, Mrs Flax only cooks finger food because anything else, she proclaims, is too much of a commitment.

I know what she means.  A marshmallow kebab is assembled in a matter of seconds, while a lasagne takes time, patience and love. 

But a funny thing happens when you’re making hors d’oeuvres in bulk.  The same time, patience and love that you commit to a full blown meal works its way into every dip or meatball, every fondue and tapenade. 

We’ve done pretty much everything we can do now.  Dishes made ahead are defrosting; table set, serving dishes labelled and at the ready.  The servers will be here in less than five hours, the guests hot on their heels, hungry and happy and full of holiday spirit. 

As I share one more recipe and five more favourite Open House tips with you, I know that every dish we’ve laboured over, sprinkled with a lot of patience and seasoned with love, is worth the time and commitment we make to this seasonal celebration.  May your own holiday celebrations be just as meaningful, and just as much fun.

Arancini
adapted from Martha Stewart Hors d’Ouevres Handbook
makes 3 dozen

These little risotto balls (arancini means "little orange" in Italian) are delicious warm or room temperature and can be made ahead.  I've adapted the recipe by adding a savoury meat filling that makes these little bites even more satisfying.

For the risotto

4 cups chicken broth

1 tablespoon extra virgin olive oil
2 large shallots
1 c Arborio rice
½ c dry white wine
1 tsp salt
Freshly ground black pepper
2 tbsp chopped parsley
1 oz Parmigiano Reggiano cheese, grated
½ cup all purpose flour
2 large eggs, lightly beaten
½ cup yellow cornmeal or fine dry breadcrumbs
2 quarts peanut oil, for frying

1. Bring stock to a simmer over medium heat.  Reduce heat to low and keep warm.  

2. Heat the olive oil over medium heat, and cook the shallots until translucent. Add the rice and the salt, stirring frequently to coat all of the grains, until the edges of the rice become translucent. 

3. Add the wine and cook, stirring, until nearly all of the wine is absorbed into the rice. Add 1 cup of the stock and cook, stirring constantly, until nearly all of the stock is absorbed.

4. Continue adding stock, ½ cup at a time, stirring constantly, until the rice is creamy but still firm, about 20 minutes. Season with pepper to taste. Stir in the parsley and Parmesan.

5. Remove from the heat and transfer to a large bowl. Allow the rice to cool completely, stirring occasionally. Cover with plastic wrap and refrigerate until firm and thoroughly chilled. The mixture must be cold before proceeding with the recipe.

For the meat filling

¼ c olive oil

1 each small onion, carrot and celery stalk, finely chopped

¼ lb each ground pork and veal, mixed

1 c Marsala

½ c beef stock

1 tbsp tomato paste

2 tbsp minced parsley

1.  In a medium saucepan, heat the olive oil over medium heat.  Add the onion, carrot and celery and cook until softened. 

2.  Add the meat, stirring to break up, and cook until just browned; do not overcook.  Add the Marsala, and turn heat to high; scrape up browned bits as you deglaze the pan.  Reduce liquid by half.

3.  Add the three remaining ingredients, turn heat to medium and simmer until thickened, about 15-20 minutes.  Season to taste with salt and pepper.

4.  If the risotto is chilled, proceed with recipe, otherwise the meat filling can be stored in the refrigerator overnight.  Reheat gently to release juices before proceeding with recipe.

5.   Place 1 generous tablespoon of the risotto in the palm of your hand, pack it lightly and make an indentation in the centre.  Place a teaspoon of the meat mixture in the centre of the rice.  Enclose the meat with the risotto to form a ball.  Don't worry if the meat is not perfectly centred in the ball. Repeat with the remaining risotto and meat, placing finished arancini on parchment-lined trays.  The arancini may be covered and refrigerated overnight at this stage.

6.  Place the flour in a small rimmed baking tray.  Place the eggs in a shallow bowl and the cornmeal or breadcrumbs in a small rimmed baking tray.  Roll the arancini first in the flour, gently shaking off any excess.  Dip the balls into the egg mixture, being sure to let any excess egg drip off before rolling in the cornmeal.  

 

7.     Heat the peanut oil in a large deep skillet.  Carefully slip as many arancini as will fit comfortably in the pan into the hot oil, and fry until golden, 2 to 4 minutes.  Repeat until all of the arancini are cooked.  Drain the arancini on paper towels and keep warm until ready to serve.

 

The arancini can be prepared and cooked one day in advance and reheated in the oven before serving, or formed and refrigerated, uncooked, two days in advance. 

Five Tips For Prepping a Party For a Crowd

1.  Do what restaurants do: sear your meat in advance and finish cooking a la minute.  Lamb chops are an Open House standard for us.  We marinate the racks and sear the meat in advance.  On party day, all that's left to do is the final broil.

Marinated...

...and seared, ready to be finished the next day 

2.  Don't limit yourself to hors d’oeuvres recipes.  Rethink your favourite main course dishes and think about how you can downsize them.  Have a killer lasagne recipe?  Make it, cook it, cool it, precut into little squares, freeze it and presto - lasagne "bites" that you can reheat on party day. 

3.  When we host a dinner party, I always seem to buy too much bread.  With a food ethic that says "never throw anything away",  I slice those half baguettes and freeze them.  Then, whenever I'm throwing a party, I thaw out the slices and toast for crostini/bruschette bottoms.  For the Open House, I also make my own.  One large baguette yields more than two dozen crostini and cost a couple of dollars; a fancy box of crostini yields far less than that, some of them broken, and cost $5.49.  You do the math.

4.  While I do have an extra fridge and freezer in the basement, I also use every available space to keep things cold.  The garage doubles as a giant fridge at this time of year, as does the back porch.  Especially handy for beverages (see tip #5).

5.  We always serve a delicious non-alcoholic punch that both adults and kids love.  I prep four batches in advance in empty extra large cranberry juice bottles, combining everything but the carbonated ingredients.  On party day, I pour a batch into the punch bowl, add the remaining bubbles, stir and serve. 

I'm off to do my last minute prep.  Wishing you a lovely Sunday, wherever you may be.