Loose Vermouth Caramelized Cherry Tomatoes

These tomatoes are studs.  Tomatoes about town. They are bowtied with thyme and lemon verbena, appropriately liquored up with a little vermouth.  And they come to you with loose dinner plate morals, hardly capable of sticking to one dish.  

They were spread on charcoal-grilled flatbread. They were smashed on a rosemary boule slice over a thin layer of goat cheese. They cozied up nicely with a melty ten-dollar burrata. 

They were even thrown impulsively into a workday kale salad designed to swallow up dinner leftovers.  I have wanted to toss them with homemade fettuccini and some thick low count shrimp, but they have yet to make the leap to full dinner fork-on-plate contact.

Gone before the pasta water could reach a rolling boil. 

So thus far, they have been capable of staying only long enough for antipasti.  No matter.  Not every tomato dish you meet can be lasagna.  Do not expect comfy leftovers.  They are drinking in the vermouth.  Then sneaking out the door at five am.

They do, however, dress up anything in need of momentary glitz.  They go into a hot pan with some extra virgin until they start to bust their guts.  Then in goes the vermouth and a spoonful of sugar. When the sugar cooks down, they are ready. 

Just take these guys for what they are.  A light tomato primer with a hint of caramelized sweetness and just a bit depth, courtesy of a veil of booze.  Ready to go on a moment’s notice. 

Easy to make, again and again.  Perfect for using up the last lingering orbs on a cherry tomato plant. 

Low hanging fruit?  Sure.  But sometimes that is just what you need to close out summer.

Caramelized Vermouth Cherry Tomatoes

Adapted from Food52

Ingredients:

• a few glugs of olive oil
• pint of cherry tomatoes
• kosher salt
• 2 to 4 tbsp dry white vermouth 
• 1 to 2 tbsp of brown sugar 
• a few sprigs of lemon verbena
• a few sprigs of thyme

Instructions:

Heat a large sauté pan on medium high heat.  Add a few glugs of olive oil and then the cherry tomatoes.  You want enough olive oil to put a nice gloss on your tomatoes, so add more as needed.

Salt the tomatoes and let them cook down, tossing them in the pan every so often, until the tomatoes start to bust open. This will take about 10 minutes, give or take.

Once the tomatoes start to split, take the pan off the heat and add the vermouth, starting with a few tablespoons.  Put the pan back on the heat to let the vermouth cook down, add a little more vermouth (you could also use water here) if the tomatoes start to stick or dry up.  

Once the majority of the liquid has been cooked off, add in the brown sugar, shaking the pan to distribute it.  Let the sugar dissolve and coat the tomatoes, this should only take a few minutes.  Again, add more liquid if your tomatoes are looking parched.

Add the lemon verbena and thyme leaves.  Taste the tomatoes and add a little more vermouth, sugar, and salt as you see fit. If you decide to add a little more vermouth, you’ll need to let it cook down again but this should only take a few minutes.

From here on out, the tomatoes are ready when you say so.  (I like them to have softened and split, while still holding on to their shape.)  

Top with a few more herb leaves, if desired.

Makes about one cup

Notes:

1. This is a recipe that functions best in a “splash of this” “dash of that” fashion. Because cherry tomatoes may vary in sweetness or acidity you may find you need slightly more vermouth and a little less sugar or vice versa.  
2. A number of herbs could work here. Oregano would likely do good things.  Food52 suggests marjoram.  I tried basil one round, but found it made the tomatoes a tad too sweet for my taste.  The dish benefits from an herb with a little more contrast.

Blackberry Lemon Verbena Cheesecake and Americana

If I could rewind, I would not have flipped the latch on my springform pan causing cheesecake liquid to ooze slowly, unstoppably out. Like molasses, equally as messy, and just as painful to watch.  

If you are one of those people who chirps about reframing things, you might call this a teachable moment.  I am not that together most of the time.  

I stood just staring at the puddle of cheesecake on my floor for a few minutes. On a Tuesday at roughly 9 PM, a good deal of wasted dairy threatened to take me down.

After I cleaned bits of eggy cream cheese from my cabinet doors, floor, and the crevice between my stove and sink, and collected myself, I got to work on round two.  Cheesecake: 1  Emily: 0

I intended to make dessert for a fourth of July party and it would have been simply un-American to show up cheesecakeless.  We are fighters.  We love Rocky Balboa.  We wear tiny cutoff shorts with the pockets showing.  We eat cheese in all forms. And so I went back to the grocery store, and reloaded.

This is not a cheesecake for weaklings.  There seems to be a good deal of praise devoted to cheesecakes that are "light" and "airy." This is all fine and good and could probably be considered progressive. I do not want a cheesecake like this. I want one that is thick and luscious.  One that will knock me out with her American thighs.  And this cheesecake is all of those things.

A sliver is all you need to feel satisfied.  The cake is classic and I love it for sentimental reasons.  

The base recipe comes from my Great Aunt Rose.  It won me over as a favorite dessert at family holiday gatherings a few years ago. And when I asked her for the recipe she said, “It’s good.  But it’s a pain in the ass.”  And then forked it over. 

It is actually not too terribly difficult to make, but you do have to pay attention to it. And if you open your springform pan prematurely you may find yourself swearing like a sailor.

I added the blackberries because I wanted something to cut through its richness.  And though I am not usually a fan of their big, brutish drupelets, the container I picked up and sniffed smelled slightly of cassis and this was enough to change my mind.  So with a newly found vision of cold cheesecake topped with a crown of glossy blackberries, I came back swinging.

And this time, it was a knockout. Because it ain’t how hard you hit. It is about how many dropped cheesecakes you can take, and keep baking.

Blackberry Lemon Verbena Cheesecake

Adapted from Aunt Rose

Ingredients:

for the crust

• 1 cup all-purpose flour, sifted
• ¼ cup sugar
• zest of one lemon
• pinch of salt
• pinch of ground ginger
• pinch of ground coriander
• ½ cup butter
• 1 egg yolk
• a generous ½ tsp vanilla extract

for the filling

• 40 ounces cream cheese (5 packages), softened to room temperature
• a generous ½ tsp vanilla extract
• zest of one lemon
• 1¾ cup sugar
• 3 tbsp all purpose flour
• ¼ tsp salt
• 4 to 5 eggs (1 liquid cup full), at room temperature
• 2 egg yolks, at room temperature
• ¼ cup heavy cream
• splash of orange blossom water (optional)

for the blackberry topping

• 25 ounces of blackberries (or roughly 3 to 4 cups), divided
• 2 tbsp lemon juice 
• about ⅓ cup of sugar (depending on the sweetness of the berries)
• pinch of salt
• 2 tbsp Crème de Cassis
• 3 sprigs of lemon verbena (optional)

Instructions:

for the cheesecake

Set the oven to 400 degrees.

In a medium bowl, combine the first six ingredients for the crust and then cut in the butter until the mixture is crumbly.  Add in the vanilla and egg yolk. Mix until the mixture is fully moist. (It may help to do this with your hands.) 

Place a little more than a third of the mixture into the bottom of a  9-inch springform pan and bake until golden brown, about 8 to 10 minutes.  Let cool.  (If it's hot in your kitchen you may want to put the rest of the mixture into the fridge while the bottom bakes.)

When the bottom crust has cooled, lock in the sides of the springform pan. Butter the sides, and press the rest of the crust mixture from the bottom up the sides, up to about one inch in height. (Not all of the cheesecake will be covered with crust.)

To make the filling, beat the softened cream cheese until creamy and velvety smooth in a stand mixer.  Add the vanilla and lemon zest and then add the sugar, flour, and salt gradually while the mixer is running on low speed.  Then add the eggs one at a time, while the mixer is still running.

Fold in the heavy cream and orange blossom water. Pour the mixture into your springform pan (it will nearly fill the pan so don't be alarmed).

Bake at 450 degrees for 10 to 15 minutes (my instructions say 12) and then turn the oven down to 300 degrees and bake for 55 minutes more.  Place on a wire rack to cool. 

After 30 minutes, gently loosen the sides of the pan with a knife.  After 1 hour, remove the sides of the springform pan.  Allow to cool two hours longer before placing in the fridge to chill.

for the blackberry topping

Line the top of your cheesecake with a layer of fresh berries. You can stagger and stack them a bit to create some height, but a slightly haphazard little pile is all you need. 

Place a few handfuls of the berries into a saucepan.  Add in the lemon juice, sugar, and salt and cook on medium heat until the berries start to burst and let their sauces out and then add the Crème de Cassis.

Cook until the mixture starts to thicken.  It should look thick and glossy, but still be spreadable (this will take about 10 to 15 minutes).  Add a little more lemon juice to the pan to thin out the sauce, as needed. 

Once at the desired consistency, drop in your lemon verbena sprigs and take off the heat to cool slightly, about 5 to 10 minutes. Strain out the seeds; reserve for another use or discard.

With a pastry brush, gently brush the strained blackberry syrup-glaze over the top of the berries. 

Serve immediately or refrigerate until ready to serve.

Makes one cheesecake (for about 12 to 16 humans) 

Notes:

1. I love lemon verbena in the summer. It is a good counterpart for the blackberries and a natural here, playing off the lemon zest and ginger and coriander in the crust. 
2. You can spread the strained, sweetened seeds on toast.
3. More about Crème de Cassis here. 
    

Baked Herb and Pistachio Falafel, Willingly

I am not currently wearing raw linen.  Or hemp underwear.  I have not started making my own soap. Nor do I have plans to unite a ragtag gang of loners to start a banjo band.  This much I can assure you.  

But things have definitely gone a bit granola in my apartment. I have been hooked on homemade pita.  I have no fewer than five jars of assorted nut and seed butters in the side compartment of my fridge. And a steay supply of bulk grains and dried beans has crept quietly in along with some Dr. Bronner’s magic soap.

I have all but made friends with Pancho and Lefty after one too many nights listening to Willie Nelson.  

So when I found this recipe, I figured it was time to pack up and move straight to the chickpea commune.  It is a fairly easy recipe.  It just requires some pistachios and fresh herb, along with the obligatory beans and basic kitchen equipment.  

It gently suggests you be laid back when you make them.  And that is about it.  Which is what you might expect from a baked falafel.

Since these guys are not fried, they have a tendency to crumble once you bite into them.  But I would not consider this a weakness.  Especially if you have them properly sandwiched and sauced in a pita.  They are baked after all, man.   They are also downright delicious. 

I will spare you the adjectives.  Just know that these guys are easy to love.  And easy to hold.  Unlike cowboys.  And perhaps people that live on communes.

Baked Herb and Pistachio Falafel with Tahini Dressing

Adapted from Green Kitchen Stories

Ingredients:

for the falafel

• 8 sprigs fresh mint
• 8 sprigs fresh flat leaf parsley
• ½ cup pistachios
• 2 cups cooked chickpeas
• 1 clove garlic 
• 1 to 2 tbsp minced onion 
• 2 tbsp olive oil 
• 5 cardamom seeds, ground (shells discarded)
• 1 tbsp flour 
• pinch cumin 
• pinch red pepper flakes 
• 1 tsp baking powder
• dash of orange blossom water (optional)

for the tahini dressing

• 2 tbsp tahini 
• 1 tbsp cashew butter 
• juice of ½ a lemon 
• 1 to 2 tbsp olive oil 
• pinch of red pepper flakes 
• pinch of cumin 
• pinch of coriander 
• salt to taste

Instructions:

Set the oven to 395 degrees.

Remove the herbs from their stems, then blend the leaves in a food processor (or blender). Add the pistachio and pulse until well combined. Add the chickpeas and remaining ingredients and process until combined. 

Taste and adjust the seasoning as needed. (Be careful with the salt as there is sodium in the baking soda.) If the mixture does not easily clump together and hold its shape, add a bit more olive oil.

Scoop out about 1 heaping tablespoon of the mixture and gently roll it into a ball, cupping it and packing it with your hands to firm it up a bit.  Place each ball on a baking sheet greased with a little olive oil.  

Bake for about 20 minutes, or until they start to turn brown.  (You may want to turn them occasionally to allow them to get color on all sides.)

While the falafel are baking, combine all the tahini dressing ingredients together in a food processor (or blender). Thin the dressing with a little water and adjust the seasoning as needed.  

Serve the falafel and dressing in a pita.  I like them with lettuce, tomato, onion and plain cumin-flavored Greek yogurt.

Makes about 15 falafel and about ½ cup dressing

Notes:

1. I used dried chickpeas that I cook and keep on hand in my freezer until they are called into falafel duty.  If you are using canned chickpeas, you may want to rinse them first.