Got a multi-day Coq au Vin simmering away in the Le Creuset? Need a quick amuse bouche to wow your guests while you’re putting the finishing touches on the wine-soaked coq? Do I ever have the perfect little niblet for you.  Brace yourselves, I’m rolling around in the quince paste again, people.  I can’t get enough of the stuff ever since we had a bountiful quince harvest here in Washington State last month and I made a batch of paste large enough to feed Tiger Woods’ bevy of buxom blondies.  It really couldn’t be easier to make; just slice some quince, toss it in a pot with water and sugar, and let a hot burner and nature take its course.  After an hour or so you’ll have a thick, creamy paste that you can spread on everything from toast points to tater tots. Well, not really tater tots, I just liked the alliteration, you know my weakness.  Sub the tater tots for taleggio and we’ll all be happy in one big alliterative, tasty bubble of quincey ooze. 

In all seriousness, quince is the new caviar in some social circles, and these little babies will tide your guests over right nice.  Three ingredient appetizers are often spectacular, I think it’s that whole rule of thirds thing.  Just slice some manchego cheese, slather it in a smear of quince paste, dollop a Marcona almond on top and prepare for closed-mouth ooohing and aaaahing from your happy hostees.

 Then you can move on to the coq au vin.  I’m not going to bore you with the details of my tweaked and polished recipe, mainly because I’ve done it so many times I just add by feel rather than measure and I’m not sure I’d be able to write it down.  Suffice it to say that using a nice burgundy is elemental, as is home-smoked bacon.  The most important part is to hunt down a good butcher that will source you a nice big cock.  Please get your minds out of the gutter, folks- that’s cock as in rooster, not as in Ron Jeremy.  You see, cocks are tougher and generally older when butchered than their Holly-Go-Lightly chicky counterparts, and in the case of coq au vin, this is a very good thing.   Look at it this way: you wouldn’t braise for days a hunky tenderloin filet, right? No, you’d opt for something with a bit more grit and sinew like chuck or rump.  Same thing with fowl- since coq au vin is slow and low, it’s nice to have some texture to break down, i.e. a dandy rooster. 

cognac burning off the coq pre vin

The final cornerstone of my coq au vin is sweet and sour cipolline.  Cipolline are those tiny gorgeous little onions you often see at farmer’s markets this time of year.  Chain grocery stores tend to package them up in mesh bundles, call them pearl onions, and charge an arm and a leg for them, but avoid this form factor if you can.  I have always had much better luck with the fresher, loose ones found at the market.  To peel them, cross the tops with a paring knife, blanch them, cool them and pop the onions out of their skins.  To caramelize them all sweet and sour like, grab a frying pan and some patience.  Toss in some red wine, red wine vinegar, honey, hoisin sauce, and butter, and get it nice and toasty.  Once you have a good mix, drop in the cipolline and swirl them about.  Pop a lid on it, turn the flame down, down, down, and give it a half hour to develop flavors.  Remove the lid, turn it up and stir constantly for the final five minutes to develop a nice caramel crust on the outside of your onions.  Add this good stuff to your now-tender old rooster and serve the whole mess over homemade egg noodles and just try to tell me you are not in foodie heaven. 

One final note: For the next five days I will be participating in the United Way’s Hunger Action Week challenge.  What this means for me and my family is that we have $18 per day to spend on breakfast, lunch and dinner.  This amount is determined based on the monetary value of aid we would receive if we were using food stamps as a family of three.  I am a self-proclaimed excessivist, so this will be pretty tough.  Watch this space to hear how I’m managing to feed my brood on 18 bucks each day, and if you’re interested in taking the challenge along with me you can sign up here.

One post and two recipes- I must really be getting into the holiday spirit of giving, folks!  It all went down like this:  right about this time every year I get so steeped in festive cookies, eggnog, holiday muzak and mall madness that I simply need a break from it all lest I should find myself menacingly brandishing a meat cleaver at the next poor soul who steps into my kitchen. 

 At this moment, I begin to dream of the greatest Christmas I ever had, spent sunning myself on a Mauritian beach far far away from the hullabaloo of snow-drenched streets and plastic manger scenes.  At the first inkling of burnout I head to the laptop and search out last-minute fares to somewhere, anywhere but here to escape to for the holidays, knowing full well that I will spend it here, because I’ve already decked the halls, wrapped the gifts, and planned the menu for the big day.  I start to reason with myself, Linda, you hate to travel during the holidays, plus Bentley is too young to appreciate Caiphirina’s on the beach and mama in a bikini anyway. 

So what’s the next best thing? How about an escape for just one evening in the form of a dinner that doesn’t have any dustings of powdered sugar, nonpareils, goose, ham or turkey in it.  Then I get out the globe, spin it blindfolded, and point to a location. After three tries that landed me somewhere in the Indian Ocean and Antarctica, my index finger landed on bright, delightful Spain.  Oh yeah, Viva España for the night! Immediately my mind goes to an appetizer I was fond of serving all summer long consisting of membrillo (quince paste), Marcona almonds and delectable Manchego cheese.  In summer I serve it in all its uncooked glory, however given that the current temperature is hovering around freezing, cooking is in order. 

I’m on a bit of a tart kick right now since after two years of toiling away in search of the very best tart crust I could make, I have wholly perfected it.  It’s based on principles taken from a recipe for pasta frolla given to me by a friend, and a curious boiling butter tart dough I read about on David Lebovitz’ blog that turned into a gooey mess the first time I tried it.  I tweaked versions of this dough a number of times until I was satisfied, and in the process altered it so much I can safely call it mine, all mine!  

Plus, quinces are out in full force this time of year and I’ve been itching to boil them down into a sweet mess, so perfect timing. If you’ve never worked with quince before, go out and get some.  A remarkably fragrant fruit, their true sweet essence is not unlocked until you cook them a bit to break down the sugars in the flesh, creating one of the greatest taste explosions ever to exist in a solitary state.  Manchego cheese and marcona almonds are the natural accompaniments in my mind, and boy do they all work incredibly well baked into a savory tart. 

As a partner dish I thought I’d do something with the red lentils I had on hand, so Lentejas con Arroz y Chorizo was an easy leap.  The ultimate in comfort food, rice lentils, aged chorizo and smokey Spanish paprika will clear your head and fortify your heart for the impending holidays in two seconds flat.  You have to be careful though, if you serve this to guests you’re bound to get a silent meal, since everyone is so typically caught up eating bite after bite there is little room in the mouth to form words for conversation.  This recipe is also my own take on the classic, spruced up here and there with what I think is essential to the success of the dish.  Without further ado I present you with the two holiday-saving recipes that will get you through to 2010 no problem. 

Quince Marcona Manchego Tart

For the crust:

• 150 grams all purpose flour
• 1 tsp sugar
• 100 grams butter, softened
• Pinch of salt
• 2 egg yolks (preferably duck)

Process all of the ingredients in a food processor until a mass forms.  Shape into a 5” disc with your -fingers, wrap in cling film, and refrigerate for at least one hour.  This all purpose tart dough is best not prebaked, but rather right along with the tart filling.  If your filling is taking exceptionally long to set, simply use a pie crust shield to keep the crust from excessive browning.  This tart shell is best baked at 375° with convection on for 30 minutes. 

For the filling:

• 3 quince fruits, peeled and cored (this will take awhile, they’re tough little suckers to core)
• ½ c water
• ¼ c sugar
• 1/3 c Marcona Almonds
• 10 oz Manchego cheese, shredded
• 1 egg
• 1 egg yolk
• ½ c cream
• ¼ c sour cream or crème fraiche
• ½ tsp salt

Slice the quince fruits into ¼” slices and slowly boil them in the water and sugar until soft and sweet, about half an hour.  Drain the slices and allow to cool until you can safely handle them.  While the quinces are cooling, roll out the tart crust and put into a fluted 10” tart pan with removable bottom.  Preheat the oven to 375°.   Blend the egg, yolk, cream, sour cream and salt in a blender until smooth.   Cover the bottom of the rolled out tart crust with slices of quince.  Layer the manchego over the quince.  Arrange a final layer of quince in a concentric pattern on top of the manchego layer. Symmetrically dot the quince layer with Marcona almonds.  Pour the egg mixture over the top and bake for 25-30 minutes until filling is set and lightly browned.  Cool on a wire rack for at least 10 minutes before you remove the fluted outer ring of the tart pan. 

Lentejas con Arroz y Chorizo

• 1.5 c lentils
• 6 c chicken stock (preferably homemade)
• 1 tsp salt
• 2 tbsp olive oil
• 1 dry aged Spanish chorizo (about a pound)
• 1 chopped shallot
• 1 finely chopped carrot
• 3 chopped garlic cloves
• 2 tbsp quality Spanish smoked paprika ( I get the mild kind, but you could also get the hot, however be judicious if you do so.  For the recipe to work, the paprika must be fresh, Spanish paprika)
• ¾ c rice
• Parsley to garnish

Slowly boil lentils in 4 c salted broth. Simmer for 15 minutes. Sauté chorizo, shallot and carrot in oil for 3 minutes. Add garlic and paprika and sauté, stirring constantly for two minutes to incorporate the paprika into the vegetables.  Add the shallot mixture to the lentils along with the remaining cups of stock and the rice.  Bring to boil then reduce heat to a simmer.  Simmer for 30+ minutes on very low heat with the lid on.  At 30 minutes, you can lift the lid, stir, and check the rice for doneness.  Add water as necessary to keep the lentils and rice from sticking to the pan.  Simmer as long as you need in order to cook the rice and marry the flavors.  Serve with a parsley sprig for garnish.

There is a new trend sweeping the catering nation and I am all for it.  We’ve all been there; you’re at a wedding juggling a glass of wine, your overly-crammed purse (you brought the cute little one that matches your shoes, but it can’t possibly hold even half your necessary arsenal- that’s what your husband’s pockets are for!), and the ornate wedding program you’re trying desperately to hang on to though know in your heart of hearts it won’t make it past the champagne toast before it’s carelessly tossed on the buffet table so you can get out on the dance floor and bring “Sexy Back.”  Just as you’re wishing you had a third hand, a waiter comes by with a tray of salmon caviar toasts.  They look innocent enough so you somehow find a way to shift your possessions to make room for the little delicacy.  Once you’ve got it in your hand (of course you forgot to grab a napkin) what looked like one bite on the tray suddenly seems like stuffing Mount Everest inside Moby Dick.  There is no way to eat this daintily because if you bite it in half you’ll get crumbs everywhere, but if you try to shove in the whole thing you’ll be out of commission chewing down your blowfish cheeks for five minutes.  Frustrated, you pass it off to your husband and decide to seek out another drink; if you can’t eat you might as well screw up enough liquid courage to not care what you look like doing the Running Man to YMCA later, right?

 We all know how much trouble this scenario can lead to, thankfully one bite wonders have hit ground running in the party circuit this year, so don’t fret; you should be able to get through the upcoming holiday season fete’s without deciding to regale your bemused coworkers with your over-the-top rendition of Paula Abdul’s Coldhearted Snake.  The trick to creating these delectable little canapés is to start with a cracker base half the size you initially think is appropriate.  Once you pile them high with goodness, they will be plenty big.  Feel free to use my recipe as a rough guideline; there is no steadfast need to use duck breast prosciutto rather than a nicely aged prosciutto di Parma- I just happened to have it on hand.  You could possibly substitute the membrillo, which is quince paste, with another tart, firm jelly, but if you can find membrillo at your local specialty market or Whole Foods, it is worth your efforts.  Typically membrillo is paired with Manchego cheese (and I like to throw in Marcona almonds for good measure).  Because I wanted to complement the duck breast prosciutto and let it be the star attraction, however, I opted to go with a lighter, creamier sheep’s milk cheese from the French side of the Pyrenees mountain range. 

Membrillo Prosciutto Canapes

• 1 package artisan crackers or flatbreads  broken into bite-sized jagged pieces
• As many small slices of duck prosciutto (or regular) as you have pieces of cracker
• Thinly shaved sheep’s milk cheese or other mild cheese of your choice
• Membrillo

1.  Arrange your cracker pieces on a serving platter.  Pile them with pieces of prosciutto and cheese.  Finish them with tiny slivers of membrillo, serve, and dance the night away!