by Chef Nikki Bowen

I love produce. For as long as I can remember, I have. As a kid, my parents would take me to the farmer’s market and the smell of fresh corn, basil, tomatoes, and even string beans would intrigue me.

My mom (who never considered herself a foodie or even a good cook) would carry home summer-ripe cucumbers, slicing them and dressing them in a light, and slightly creamy, vinaigrette. The firm flesh of the cucumbers mixed with the acidity of the vinaigrette created the most amazingly refreshing salad, the perfect complement to any summer meal.

I was brought back to my childhood summers today while preparing to teach a cheese-making class at Datz. To complement the mozzarella the class was making, I prepared panzanella. For those not familiar, panzanella is Italy’s gift to the world. Don’t misunderstand… I love a good marinara, and there is no substitute for fresh pizza, but in the summer months, there is no comparison. Ripe, sweet tomatoes, refreshing cucumbers, and peppery basil are tossed with hot, toasty bread squares and then drizzled with extra-virgin olive oil and white wine vinegar. I saved this incredibly aromatic mixture for the class and added their fresh mozzarella. I never tire of seeing the reaction of first-time fresh mozzarella consumers, and this experience was particularly rewarding. The taste of their mozzarella mixed with the freshness of these summer treats was an overwhelming onslaught of taste sensations.

Produce, bought in season and locally, is awe-inspiring. How many hours until the farmer’s market opens?

For the third time this week, I am pouring a glass of wine while my curds gently soak in their water bath. Already sliced on the plate are some green zebra tomatoes I stumbled upon, champagne mangos (where have these been hiding my whole life?), flaked pink salt from the Murray River in Australia, tender treviso and a basil vinaigrette made with white balsamic vinegar. In less than five minutes, I¹m going to have fresh mozzarella. In ten minutes, dinner.

Not just any grocery store mozzarella. No. No. No. We’re talking fresh mozzarella. The creamy, slightly salty tang and gentle toothiness of hand-pulled mozzarella. Mozzarella that I’m making myself.

Sometimes a few simple ingredients come together to create something spectacular. The individual elements compliment each other so well that, when combined, the results are so delicious they border on magical. Think bacon and eggs; chocolate and strawberries; brats and beer; mango and mozzarella.

Moist, sweet and soft, with a springy yielding texture unlike any other cheese, the process of making fresh mozz is very simple, and the results are blissful. Indeed, the fresh cheese classes at Datz are among the most requested.

Start with a pound of fresh mozzarella curd and three quarts of 150° water.
In a bowl, crumble, cut or shave the curd to about the size of a marble, and then pour the water over it. Make sure the water covers the curd. Let the mixture sit for three minutes, gently stirring with a spoon or your hands (if you can handle the heat!). When the curd is melted and lump-free, start pulling it gently. When the color becomes pearlescent and gentle ribbons appears in the texture, shape it into balls and drop it into a cool, salted water bath. A gentle dunk is all it needs to set, really.

Don¹t believe me? Take the class on Sunday May 16 ($25, 6 pm) and find out.
But between now and then, you can find fresh mozzarella at The Fresh Market and better Publix Supermarkets to quench the urge for this delicious twist on the classic caprese.

Mango Caprese with Basil Vinaigrette

• 1/2 C chopped fresh basil leaves, plus whole leaves for layering
• 3 T extra-virgin olive oil
• 2 T white balsamic vinegar
• Salt and freshly ground black pepper
• 8 radicchio leaves, thick ends trimmed
• 2 large mangos, peeled, halved, and thinly sliced
• 8 slices fresh mozzarella

Blend the chopped basil, oil, and vinegar in a food processor or blender until basil is mostly pureed. Season with salt and pepper.
Overlap radicchio, mango, mozzarella, and basil leaves on plates.
Drizzle with vinaigrette and serve, passing additional vinaigrette on the side.

When I was small, maybe 7 or 8, my mother instituted the rule that every Friday night was New Vegetable Night. The childhood burden of new and strange vegetables did not fare well in our household.

Unfairly blamed on my mother’s cooking, my brother and I took to pouting and temper tantrums to avoid eating anything green. It wasn’t long before New Vegetable Night became Pizza Night instead, and peace was restored in the Lee household.

Twenty years later, no longer so closed-minded, a new vegetable appeared on my plate on Friday night. And strangely, I ate it with wonder and abandon. Well… perhaps not so strangely. This was culinary school, and the lesson at hand was fiddleheads.

Fiddleheads, the tightly furled shoot of the Ostrich Fern first discovered by the Maliseet and Mi’kMaq tribes in Eastern Canada, are a springtime delicacy all the way up the East Coast. Until that night, I don’t recall ever having seen them, but they tasted like I imagined they would – like asparagus. (They smell and taste of the earth in the same way that fresh scallops taste of the ocean.) They were crunchy and earthy and green tasting and paired well with the pappardelle, crispy prosciutto and salty Parmigiano-Reggiano also on my plate.

It’s one of the few things I miss about living in the northeast – these succulent signs of spring. Asparagus. Ramps. Fiddleheads. <sigh> Desperate for a harbinger, Chef Jason Dame and I ordered them from Sid Wainer, but just the other day, I found them at The Fresh Market. (You’ll have to wait for a new shipment because I bought them all.) Jason and I served them alongside wild mushrooms in a ragout topped with a mammoth diver scallops. Oh! And finger limes. Today, I’m using up what’s left in a spring risotto – asparagus, fiddleheads, meyer lemon and creamy cana de cabra (because that’s what in the fridge). And I’m thinking that maybe my mother was on to something after all.

FIDDLEHEAD FAQ

Want to know more about fiddleheads? Here are the basics on stalking, preparation and storage:

What do they taste like? They taste like asparagus.

How can I tell if a fiddlehead is ready to eat? In the field, you can tell the fiddlehead is still young by how tightly it is furled. If the furl is loosening into a fern, it’s gone by.

How long will a fiddlehead stay fresh? Most chefs like to use them the same day, but you can blanch or steam them for less than a minute, lay them on a cookie sheet and freeze them solid. Then you can keep them in a bag in your freezer.

What’s a simple way to eat a fiddlehead? Steam or blanche the fiddlehead for three minutes, douse them with butter and lemon, and serve as a side dish.

How long is fiddlehead season? Fiddlehead season lasts about three weeks. Since the timing varies from Virginia to Canada, you can usually order them for about six weeks from somewhere.

NOTE: Not all ferns are edible, so stalkers should arm themselves with information or get a knowledgeable partner to go out with. Also, don’t be too greedy. Stalkers ask that people take no more than a third of an outcropping so the crop can be sustained

There’s not much I love more than a nice juicy steak, except maybe a nice juicy steak paired with decadent side dishes, a great Napa Valley wine and good company.

Around the Chef’s Table at Datz February 28, a group of diners gathered to enjoy the pleasures of Chefs Heather and Matt Stalker’s classic steakhouse recipes with a contemporary twist.

Like all good meals, it started with a warning – a 7 ½-pound slab of Flintstones-sized meat kind of warning.

As Chef Matt (also a meat cutter at Publix) drew his 6-inch boning knife across his steel, he walked the guests through the break down of a rib section sub-primal. In what seemed like minutes, the hunk of giant beef was deftly portioned into cowboy (bone-in) ribeye steaks, prime rib roast and back ribs.

With guests quite literally licking their chops, Chef Heather stepped in with the first succulent course – blistered tomatoes and whole roasted garlic smeared on crusty crostinis with a wedge of Gabriel Coulet blue cheese. So simple, yet so elegant.

Sommelier Jennifer Bingham from Global Wines Distribution poured a Beaucanon Estate Napa Valley Chardonnay to complement the second course – balsamic glazed sticky ribs.

While most would expect red wine with beef, the gentle heat from the cayenne-infused sweet balsamic glaze needed something a little different.

Carefully crafted with the aromas and flavors of vanilla, lemon, pineapple and coconut, with hints of rosemary and limestone, the medium-bodied chardonnay was the perfect pairing for the ribs and the iceberg wedge salad with warm bacon and blue cheese dressing.

Already groaning with expanding stomachs, one whiff of the juicy Prime Rib Au Poivre and the guests were clamoring for more. Done in a traditional steak au poivre manner, the medium roasted prime rib with served with a decadent brandy cream sauce that Chef Heather made a la minute, and served the 2-inch thick slices against an equal sized portion of creamy two-potato gratin. Jennifer paired this course with a bold Beaucanon Estate Napa Valley Cabernet Franc, whose aromatic bouquet of blackberry, red cherry and dried rose petal lifted the dish to new heights.

And, as if that weren’t enough, the final and possibly most delicious steak was a cowboy ribeye with grilled Meyer lemon and rosemary with creamed rainbow chard, paired with a Bordeaux-inspired Beaucanon Estate Napa Valley Red Wine Trifecta.

After such a carnivorous feast, thoughts of dessert were fleeting, but the scrumptious bananas foster (seventh course) was petite sized, and the parting sip of Marguery Historias dessert wine was, in fact, a fabulous digestif.

Eat this post: Chefs Heather and Matt will recreate Steakhouse Favorites Saturday, March 27 at 7 p.m. ($125 includes a seven-course meal + wine). Click here to register.

I can no longer resist this sauce, and frankly, I don’t know why I even try. When Chef Francesco Tonelli first showed me ten years ago, it was one of many culinary school revelations. (Bested only by the brown butter sage sauce spooned over pillows of airy gnocchi. aahhh…) So, I wasn’t surprised when I found Molly at Orangette raving about it. Or when Rachel Eats (who lives in Rome and can get authentic, perfect tomato sauce every single day) fawned over it too.
So what is it with this sauce that it moves people to essays, “something almost magical happens”, and adjectives like “va-va-voom”? Is it a sliver of garlic, red pepper flakes, a glug of olive oil or, dare I suggest, pancetta?
No, my dear friend, it’s none of those. It is butter. And a yellow onion. Cooked slowly, ever so slowly, as the sauce gurgles and plops. Two humble pantry staples that transform a 28-ounce can of San Marzano tomatoes into something lush and velvety. Reminding you how fresh and sweet summer can be. Even when its 30-degrees in Tampa. So, well, yes: Va-va-voom.

Tomato Sauce
Adapted from Marcela Hazan’s Essentials of Italian Cooking and Francesco Tonelli’s Skills II class
28 oz. whole peeled tomatoes from a can (San Marzano, if you can find them)*
5 T unsalted butter
1 medium-sized yellow onion, peeled and halved
Salt to taste
Put the tomatoes, onion and butter in a heavy saucepan over medium heat. Bring the sauce to a simmer then lower the heat to keep the sauce at a slow, steady simmer for about 45 minutes, or until droplets of fat float free of the tomatoes. Stir occasionally, crushing the tomatoes against the side of the pot with a wooden spoon. Remove from heat, discard the onion, add salt to taste and keep warm while you prepare your pasta.

QUESTION:
What is your revelatory food moment?

EAT THIS POST:
Join Chef Heather February 3 @ 11 am for a Lunch n’ Learn inspired by this post. Take an hour and a half…have lunch and learn a skill at the same time. We’ll sample this simple sauce, done three ways, (served over Rustichella d’Abruzzo pasta – see below) and you can decide for yourself if its truly magical or not. $15 includes instruction, lunch and beverage of your choice. Register at datzdeli.com/events

RUSTICHELLA d’ABRUZZO PASTA
Out of lush green hills and golden swaying wheat of Abruzzo comes the finest artisanal pasta made by Gianluigi Piaduzzi. Using traditional techniques perfected by his grandfather in the early 1900s, Piaduzzi lovingly handcrafts his pastas with two secret ingredients: stone ground durum wheat flour from hard winter wheat and pure spring water from the Abruzzo mountains. He also extrudes the pasta through a bronze dye giving the pasta a rough texture to better hold the sauce. The use of this kind of dye works in conjunction with the drying method to yield a pasta that swells up to amazing side and have its own unique flavor. Mangia!