Rosemary Cod with Vanilla-Scented Rutabaga

The rutabaga doesn't get much respect these days. It's a shame, Andres Viestad explains, since the rutabaga was one of those hearty tubers that sustained generations of Scandinavians eking out a living in the snow and ice of fjord country. That's why I consider his book, Kitchen of Light, to be top notch. Weaving unexpected historical and cultural anecdotes through the narrative of a cookbook, believe it or not, is not so common these days. I like Jamie Oliver a lot, but his somewhat narcissistic books could surely lose a few pages plastered with his craggy, smiling mug in favor of a bit more text about the culinary history of his country. 

Rosemary Cod with Vanilla-Scented Rutabaga

• 2 1/2 pound cod fillets
• 1/2 vanilla bean
• 4 tbsp unsalted butter
• 1 lb rutabaga, cut into one inch dice
• 2 small spris rosemary
• 1/2 tbsp olive oil
• freshly ground pepper and sea salt

Soak the fish fillets in an ice water bath for 15 minutes and pat dry. Preheat over to 400F. Bring a large pan of lightly salted water to a boil and cook for 25-30 minutes or until soft. Drain and then return rutabaga to pan to dry, 1 or 2 minutes only. Put the rutabaga in a food processor or food mill. (I used a potato ricer which worked well) Return mashed rutabaga to the pan. Cut vanilla bean in half lengthwise and use a small sharp knife to scrape out the seeds. Add to the mashed rutabaga. (You can save the vanilla pod and add to a can of sugar to scent it) Stir in the butter and season with salt. Make a small incision in the cod and insert the rosemary sprig. Season with salt and pepper and rub with oil. Place fish in a roasting pan and roast in the oven for 15 minutes or until fish flakes easily. Serve cod fillets with a scoop of mashed rutabaga.

Beet Soup; Wilted Spinach with Smoked Salmon and Rasberries

Once again, Strand didn't fail to deliver. I remember first relying on this Greenwich Village used book superstore when taking a class at Columbia in the mid-1990s and seeking out hard to find academic texts on the American immigrant experience written in the 1970s. Thank you Oscar Handlin. To this day, Strand remains, hands down, the best used bookstore in the country. (Though Powell's in Portland, Oregon does come pretty darn close)

Today, Strand is my go to store for cookbooks. My recent find... a hardbound copy of Kitchen of Light: New Scandinavian Cooking with Andres Viestad. I'd been in search of the book since my chance discovery of the PBS series New Scandinavian Cooking a few months prior. Viestad is one of the show's hosts.

I have to admit, I never thought that I would appreciate Scandinavian food. But with his culinary talents and obvious passion for his native country of Norway, the affable Herr Viestad has totally shattered my prejudices. His approach to the food culture involves traditional Scandinavian ingredients prepared, as I see it, with a definite Mediterranean twist. I guess that explains the "New" part. That said, the TV show and companion book are fantastic.

Now all I need is a bottle of aquavit. Even better, Viestad tells you how to make your own.

Beet Soup

• 1 tbsp olive oil
• 1 red onion chopped
• 1 garlic clove, minced
• 1 pound beets, peeled and cut into 1-inch dice
• 1 bay leaf
• 1 carrot, chopped
• 3 cups homemade chicken stock (Viestad calls for goose or duck stock - I have yet to venture down this road)
• 1 tsp chili powder (I avoid the cheap McCormick stuff from the grocery; go to Penzseys and get a nice one. They are also an online purveyor)
• 1 tbsp freshly squeezed lemon juice
• 1/4 cup sour cream or yogurt 

Saute onions and garlic in a medium-sized pot over medium heat until softened and light brown. Add beets, bay leaf, carrots and chicken stock and bring to a boil. Reduce heat and simmer for 40 minutes until beets are soft. Transfer to a blender and puree in batches; or use an immersion blender to puree in the pot. Season with chili powder, lemon juice, salt and pepper. Ladle into bowls and serve with a dollop of sour cream.

Wilted Spinach with Smoked Salmon and Rasperries

• 1/2 cup sour cream or creme fraiche
• 16 raspberries
• 2 tbsp raspberry vinegar or white wine vinegar (I used pomegranate vinegar)
• 1 tsp sugar
• 1/2 pound spinach leaves
• 8-12 thin slices smoked salmon
• Olive oil
• Sea salt and black pepper

Prepare the dressing by combining creme fraiche, half of the raspberries, vinegar, and sugar in a small bowl. Season with salt and pepper and whisk together. Place spinach on overproof plates, sprinkle with oil, and place under the broiler for 1-2 minutes until starting to wilt. Place salmon on top of spinach and drizzle with stripes of the dressing. Garnish with remaining raspberries and whole peppercorns. Note: I substituted a hot smoked salmon "candy" that I found in the seafood department at Whole Foods. But the more traditional gravlaks salmon is more widely available and even more appropriate for this recipe.

Sopa de Ajo

The new Martin Sheen movie, The Way, has just hit selected theaters. When I first learned that Sheen and son Emilio Estevez were collaborating on a feature length film about pilgrims walking the Camino de Santiago in northern Spain I was a wee bit skeptical. For one, I doubted how one could create a feature length drama about people getting up before dawn and walking for miles on end while incessantly complaining about their blisters, bunions, and back pains. More importantly, however, I was worried that a film about El Camino, if successful over here, would result in an influx of Americans over there. I have walked that very pilgrim trail on several occasions and the noticeable absence of Americans is one of the things that makes it great.

The Sheens, to their credit, did a nice job putting together a pleasant film that really did capture the experience of walking the Camino de Santiago. It also brought back a lot of memories.

On the Way, Alto del Perdón, Pamplona-Puente La Reina, 2010

The end of the road, Santiago de Compostela, 2005

One of the features of the many restaurantes strewn along the length of the Camino de Santiago is the seemingly ubiquitous sopa de ajo - garlic soup. When I walked the Way in 2005, people would tell the story of this one unnamed pilgrim who would ramble on and on to anyone who would listen about the garlic soup that he hoped to consume at the end of the day. I never met this mysterious person, but I did have plenty of garlic soup that summer.

Far from an Iberian gourmet delicacy, sopa de ajo is just one of those inexpensive Spanish country foods that has the same comfort food reputation as chicken noodle soup does here in the states.

I'll take the former any day.

Sopa de Ajo

• 1 cup olive oil
• 5 ounces day old bread
• 5 cloves garlic
• 1 tbsp chopped onion
• 6 1/2 cups boiling water
• 1 tsp Spanish smoked paprika
• 1 spring fresh parsley
• salt and pepper

Heat oil in a skillet, add bread slices in batches and fry for two minutes or until golden brown. Remove and drain on paper towels. Drain off oil leaving 4 tbsp. Add garlic and onion and cook over low heat for 5 minutes or until softened. Remove from heat and sit in the paprika. Preheat oven to 350 F. Put the friend bread in an ovenproof casserole that can be used on stove top. Discard garlic and pit the onion paprika mixture onto the fried bread. Add the boiling water and season with salt. Stir, add parsley and bring to a boil. Lower heat and simmer for five minutes. Transfer the casserole to the oven and bake for seven minutes until it forms a crust. Crack eggs onto the crust, season with a pinch of salt, and return to the over. Bake until whites are set and serve immediately.

A nice rioja goes well with Sopa de Ajo. In this instance, we had a bottle of Sidra Asturiana, a sparkling cider from the northern region of Asturias and also pretty commonplace throughout the Basque Country.

Abruzzo Lamb Stew with Cheese and Egg Sauce

The mountain people of the Abruzzo, the region of my paternal grandparents, made their living as shepherds. To this day, one can still find evidence of traturri - the migratory trails on which sheep herders led their flocks from the Abruzzo mountainsides where they spent their summers to the low-lying grasslands of southern Italy that afforded a milder climate in the winter. One of these age-old routes documented by historians stretched from Ateleta, the home town of my family, to the vicinity of the Biferno River in neighboring Molise. Some cultural historians argue that the guarded, quiet, and introspective characteristics of the people of Abruzzo stems largely from their lonely, migratory past as shepherds.

Considering the region's long history of sheep herding, it is no surprise that the culinary traditions of the Abruzzo center around agnello - lamb. This recipe comes from the book, La Cucina: The Regional Cooking of Italy, an excellent resource (organized by region of Italy) for those who want to delve into the long-held recipes of the Italian people.

Lamb Stew with Cheese and Egg Sauce

• 2lbs boneless lamb stew meat, cut into cubes (from the leg or shoulder)
• All purpose flour for dredging
• 1/2 cup police oil
• 1 medium onion, sliced
• Pinch grated nutmeg
• 1 cup chicken broth (or other meat stock)
• 1 cup dry white wine
• 1 large egg, beaten
• 1 tbsp grated pecorino (locatelli is the most widely available that is decent)
• 1 tbsp lemon juice
• Salt and pepper

Put flour in a plastic bag and add meat, shake to dredge. Heat olive oil in an earthenware pan and add lamb, onion, nutmeg, salt and pepper. When meat has browned add the meat broth and wine. Cook slowly for about 2 hours, covered. Mix egg, pecorino, and lemon juice and add to the pan. Cook for several minutes until thickened and serve hot.

The wine of the Abruzzo is the widely-available Montepulciano D'Abruzzo, an excellent medium-bodied red.