Fabulous Falafel Burgers

I have an embarrassing confession. Although I spend my workdays researching and writing about exotic, far flung foods, I eat the same lunch pretty much every afternoon. And just what is my inevitable meal? It’s a black bean veggie burger with organic ketchup on a slice of high fiber wheat toast. Delicious? Not really. Quick and easy? Absolutely.

After months of dining on this not-so-tasty repast I finally caved in and started considering other fast, protein-rich, high fiber, low fat lunch options. Salads didn’t quite fit the protein criteria. Plus, a few hours after eating a salad, I felt hungry again. Tuna sandwiches proved more satisfying but they didn’t offer much in the fiber front.

What ultimately saved me from a lifetime of black beans was the slender “Meatless Burgers” cookbook. Written by Louise Hagler, “Meatless Burgers” (BPC, 1999) offers over 50 easy, international recipes for this quintessentially American dish. With nutritional values provided at the end of each recipe I had a wealth of healthful lunch options right at my fingertips.

As I love chickpeas, I rightly assumed that I would adore Hagler’s falafel burgers. A Middle Eastern street food that originated in Egypt, falafel are small fried patties or croquettes made from pureed chickpeas and/or fava beans. After being fried, they are stuffed into a pita or wrapped in flat bread and blanketed by such toppings as chopped lettuce, tomatoes, pickles, pickled vegetables and tahini.

Pureed chickpeas likewise form the base for falafel burgers. Mixed together with chopped onions, parsley and bread crumbs, these burgers are light yet filling. As an added bonus, they can be oven-baked as well as pan-fried.

Falafel Burgers
From Louise Hagler’s “Meatless Burgers” (BPC, 1999)
Makes 6 to 8 burgers

2 cloves garlic
1 (15 ounce) can chickpeas, drained
1/4 cup water
1/2 teaspoon sea salt
1/4 teaspoon black pepper
2 cups bread crumbs (Note: I used whole wheat bread and lightly toasted the crumbs under the broiler)
1/2 cup onion, cut into chunks
1/4 cup Italian flat-leaf parsley, chopped

Preheat the oven to 350 degrees Fahrenheit. Oil a baking sheet and set aside.

In a food processor mince the garlic. Add the chickpeas, water, salt and black pepper and process until creamy. Add the onion chunks and pulse several times to chop and incorporate them into the chickpea mixture.

Place the breadcrumbs in a bowl. Spoon in the chickpea mixture and stir until well combined. Add the parsley, mix the falafel again and form it into burgers. To ensure thorough baking, flatten the burgers to about 1/4 to 1/2-inch thickness.

Arrange the burgers on the oiled baking sheet and bake for roughly 15 minutes on each side until browned. (Note that these also can be pan-fried in olive oil but they will be higher in fat. As is, the burgers contain only 1 gram of fat, 3 grams of fiber, 4 grams of protein and 101 calories.)

Serve on whole wheat buns with tahini, lettuce and sliced tomatoes.

Ramping up for a Zesty Meal

This year’s final tribute to spring produce brings me to a pungent little perennial that grows wild in eastern North America. Known as a wild leek or ramp, this delicate-looking vegetable possesses small, white bulbs, slender, pink stalks, and broad, green leaves.

While this petite plant may appear fragile, the flavor and aroma that it imparts pack powerful punches. Think of the combined bold scents of garlic and onion. Add to these an earthy, lingering aspect and you have the potent smell and taste of a ramp.

Wildly popular in the Appalachian region, ramps are heralded for their culinary as well as medicinal uses. In the latter case locals employ them as seasonal tonics to stimulate dormant appetites and open sinuses long blocked by winter’s chill.

Beyond their role in folk medicine, ramps star in a series of springtime food festivals held throughout West Virginia. At fairs such as the Feast of Ramson in Richwood, W.Va. they are cooked in bacon fat and served alongside ham, beans, potatoes and cornbread. At the International Ramp Cook-off and Festival in Elkins, W. Va. they crop up in everything from burgers and spaghetti to hard tack candy.

Usually, ramps appear in simpler offerings such as “ramps and taters.” A traditional Appalachian recipe, this dish consists of ramps and potatoes fried in bacon fat and served alongside slices of bacon. While potatoes are commonly viewed as the perfect partner, ramps also compliment peas, asparagus, new carrots, chicken and salmon.

When selecting ramps, choose ones that are firm with bright leaves, pink stalks and intact roots. Avoid any slimy or wilted ramps.

Refrigerated, ramps will keep for one week. To store, simply wrap the bulbs and roots in a damp paper towel, put them in a heavy plastic bag and refrigerate. The bag will help stop the odor from overtaking the refrigerator.

Before using, remove the roots, peel off the first layer of the bulb, and trim off the leaves. Wash the ramps thoroughly to dislodge any dirt and then start chopping.

RAMP CASSEROLE
Serves 6 to 8

This recipe comes from “Follow Your Nose . . . Ramp Festival Gourmet Ramp Recipes,” a compendium of the International Ramp Cook-off and Festival contestants’ recipes. The cookbook is published by and available at the Randolph County Convention and Visitors Bureau in Elkins, West Virginia.

8 medium bunches of ramps, diced into 1-inch pieces
2 garlic cloves, peeled and minced
3 tablespoons butter
½ cup freshly grated parmesan cheese
¼ cup heavy cream
2 cups fresh breadcrumbs
1 tablespoon oil

Pre-heat the oven to 350˚F. Butter a medium-sized baking dish.

Heat the 3 tablespoons butter in a large frying pan. Add the ramps and garlic and cook over moderate heat until tender, about five minutes.

Pour in the cream and ¼ cup of parmesan cheese. Stir the mixture together and pour into the prepared baking dish.

In the same frying pan heat the oil over medium until hot but not smoking. Add the breadcrumbs and sauté, stirring constantly until they reach a golden brown, about three minutes.

Top the casserole with the breadcrumbs and remaining cheese then bake uncovered for 20 minutes.

Their robust flavor compliments such foods as potatoes, peas, asparagus and salmon.

Spring Produce Redux


After an endless winter of eating root vegetables and dreaming of lighter cuisine I now am basking in the bounty of spring. So much color, crispness and flavor! So many different seasonal offerings. It’s no wonder that my kitchen counter overflows with the produce of the season.

While curved fiddlehead ferns, honeycombed morel mushrooms and ruby red rhubarb may catch my eye, several of the more traditional foods have stolen my heart. My main heartthrob? The plump, piquant lemon. Ever present in the produce aisle, it hits its prime in the springtime.

A relative of the lime and citron, the lemon performs multiple roles in the kitchen. Wedges serve as as a garnish for seafood and drinks while the zest acts as a flavor enhancer in stuffing and baked goods. Its juice pumps up the flavor in such fruits as peaches, nectarines, guava and papaya. It also balances out rich sauces and vinaigrettes and works as a preservative and anti-browning agent for fragile foods. Talk about a versatile fruit!

Lemons keep at room temperature for one week or in the refrigerator for one month. Choose plump, firm citrus that are heavy for their size. Avoid overly large ones as they will contain mostly peel and little juice.


Named for its resemblance to a pinecone, the spiny, green-topped pineapple peaks from March to June. When ripe, its rind varies in color from dark green to orange-yellow. Deep green leaves, flat eyes and a pleasant aroma are also indicate freshness.

When sprinkled with brown sugar and rum and then grilled or broiled, fresh, juicy pineapple makes a decadent dessert. Slices of it compliment grilled lamb, seafood and stir fries and decorate the eponymous pineapple-upside down cake.

The trumpet-shaped chanterelle mushroom rears its wavy, apricot-orange head during the rainy Southeast spring. It possesses a scent similar to apricots and a flavor ranging from meaty to peppery.

A companionable ingredient, these mushrooms form pleasant partnerships with poultry, pork, fish and beef. Likewise, they serve as wonderful fillings for crepes, omelets, and tarts, as well as toppings for pizzas. They can easily be stewed or marinated. Sautéed in butter with a little minced garlic, salt and pepper, they make an irresistible side dish.

When buying this exquisite fungus, choose plump and spongy ones. Steer clear of those with broken or withered caps.

LIMONCELLO DROPS
Serves 6 to 8

Inspired by a recipe for lemon drops in Nigella Lawson’s Forever Summer (Hyperion, 2003), this cocktail turns the rainiest spring day into a warm, sunny afternoon.

6 organic lemons, skins removed
12 ounces limoncello
12 ounces Triple Sec
4 tablespoons granulated sugar
6 to 8 strips of lemon zest, curled

Place the ingredients in a blender and blend until well combined. Using a fine mesh strainer, strain the drink into a large glass pitcher. Cover and refrigerate until ready to serve. Before handing out the drinks, pour the lemon drops into cocktail/martini glasses and drape a strip of curled lemon zest over the rim of each.

Spring for the Season's Stranger Produce


This Earth Day I’m hitting the farmers’ market. To me, nothing says “green living” or springtime like locally grown food. From familiar spring vegetables such as asparagus and leeks to the rare morel and rhubarb the market provides a wealth of vibrant, flavorful produce for my dinner plate.

Of all the vernal offerings the most unusual has to be the fiddlehead fern. Resembling the carved head of a violin, fiddleheads are the unfurled shoots of an ostrich fern. One of the last true wild, foraged foods, they grow in moist woods, floodplains and, in my case, in the damp soil bordering my 19th century farmhouse.


When told by a neighbor that the two-inch long, tightly coiled fern leaves tasted like a cross between asparagus, artichokes, and okra, I assumed that he was joking. Making fun of the city slicker, eh? What would he say next? That sautéed maple leaves reminded him of syrup?

Skepticism aside, I gave fiddlehead ferns a try. Boiled in lightly salted water for 10 minutes or steamed for 20, they do evoke this unusual combination of flavors.

Although traditionally topped with butter, salt and pepper, the vegetable’s distinct taste and firm texture make it a good match for stir fries as well as Hollandaise, cheese and tomato sauces. If stir-frying, remember to blanch the ferns in boiling water before tossing into your wok. Some food-borne illnesses have been attributed to raw or undercooked fiddleheads.

With a season of just two weeks fiddleheads fly out of markets. As they have a short shelf life, they should be consumed within two days.

Along with fiddleheads I stock up on stalky, red rhubarb. Although botanically a vegetable, rhubarb has masqueraded as a fruit since 1947. That year the United States Customs Court in Buffalo, New York deemed it a fruit because of the manner by which it is eaten. In the U.S. rhubarb is traditionally coupled with strawberries and baked in desserts, particularly pies. In fact, its popularity as a pie filling has garnered it the nickname “pie plant.”

Elsewhere rhubarb retains its vegetable identity and appears in savory dishes. In Poland it is cooked with potatoes and spices. It turns up in stews in Iran and with spinach in Afghanistan.

Because of rhubarb’s intense tartness and my lifelong preference for sweets, I invariably pair it with a generous amount of sugar. Once sweetened, it creates velvety jams, sauces and desserts such as rhubarb crumble, trifle, and pie.

When selecting rhubarb, look for moderately thin, pink or red stalks. Thicker, greenish stalks will be sour and stringy. Use non-aluminum cookware with this fruit. Otherwise, the rhubarb will react with the metal.

RHUBARB CRISP
Serves 6

4 cups of rhubarb, cut into 1” pieces
¾ cup granulated sugar
1 ½ teaspoons cinnamon
¼ teaspoon ginger
juice of half of a lemon
¾ cup of light brown sugar, firmly packed
½ cup of all purpose flour
¾ cup of rolled oats
¼ cup of unsalted butter at room temperature

Preheat the oven to 375˚. Grease a 9”x 9” baking dish then set aside.

In a bowl mix together the granulated sugar, ½ teaspoon of cinnamon, and ¼ teaspoon of ginger.

Place the rhubarb in the baking dish then sprinkle the sugar mixture and the juice of half of a lemon over the top.

In another bowl mix together the brown sugar, 1 teaspoon of cinnamon, flour, and rolled oats. Using your fingers, break up the butter into small pieces and add to the dry ingredients. With a fork mix the butter, oats, sugar and flour together until they are well combined. Sprinkle the topping evenly over the rhubarb.

Place the baking dish in the preheated oven. Bake until the crust has browned and the rhubarb is bubbling, about 25 minutes. Serve with a scoop of vanilla or strawberry ice cream.

Portuguese Idyll

Among all the places that I’ve visited Portugal may become one of my favorites. Along with an abundance of pleasant weather, charming people, beautiful sites, relaxed atmosphere and efficient infrastructure, the Iberian country boasted of some of the freshest cuisine that I’ve found.

In Lisbon Sean and I roamed the cobblestone streets, nibbling on warm pasteis de natas, the custard cream tarts discussed in a previous entry. While bakeries have become a rarity in the States, in Lisbon they appeared on virtually every street corner. In addition to the luscious de natas these shops offered such delicacies as egg-topped Easter loaves, powdered sugar-dusted coconut puffs, almond cookies, honey cakes, crusty breads and small cups of strong coffee or uma bica. Needless to say, he and I both suffered from a major case of bakery envy.


Since we spent much of our time along the coast, we often dined on simply prepared, local seafood such as tuna, mullet, clams, barnacles and bass. Sardines popped up not only in restaurants but also along the beaches, where they were split, placed on wire racks and dried in the sun. While dried sardines didn’t strike my fancy, I did appreciate having them grilled and served alongside a salad of chopped tomatoes, peppers and cucumbers or sauteed greens.


A dried fish that did intrigue me was bacalhau or dried, salted cod. A national favorite, bacalhau must be soaked in water for several days so that it plumps up and loses some of its intense saltiness. Not that this fish won’t seem salty to the uninitiated. Still, most will find it delicious.


In the northern coastal city of Porto Sean and I indulged in the drink for which Portugal and Porto are famous, port wine. Fortified with brandy, this sweet, rich red wine brought a pleasant conclusion to our evening meals. It was dessert with a soothing after effect.


As elsewhere in Portugal, we weren’t far from our food and beverage sources in Porto. Made in the Douro Valley, port wine is blended and aged directly across from Porto, in the lodges of Vila Nova de Gaia. These riverside lodges sample and sell their world-famous ports seven days per week. Needless to say, our visit to Porto included a stroll to and through the lodges.


The Portuguese specialties didn’t end here. Lively yet inexpensive wines, flavorful goat’s and ewe’s milk cheeses, vibrant soups, hearty breads and succulent salt-baked fish all enhanced our time in this lovely land. Great food. Great trip. I cannot wait to return and see — and eat — more of Portugal.

The Perfect Portuguese Pastry

Spend a week in Portugal and no doubt you’ll end up with a serious addiction to pasteis de natas. Sweet and creamy yet with a slight crunch, these small custard tarts line the windows of most bakeries and coffee shops. The locals blanket them with cinnamon and a smidgen of powdered sugar before consuming them at breakfast or as a snack. In my case no day in Portugal was complete without at least one of these bite-sized treats.

Although I found them throughout Portugal, legend has it that de natas originated on the outskirts of Lisbon, at Belem’s Mosteiro dos Jerónimos. There lay bakers produced pasteis de natas for the general public. In the early 19th century, when the monastery closed, a neighboring confectioner, Domingo Rafael Alves, bought the recipe from one of the out-of-work bakers and started offering them in his shop.

Today Alves’ Pasteis de Belem has become a tourist attraction in its own right. Made using the monastery’s original, secret recipe, Pasteis de Belem’s tarts draw countless customers to the cafe seven days per week. On the late afternoon that I visited, a dozen people lined the stone sidewalk outside, patiently waiting for their turn to buy boxes of this delectable sweet. Just remember that here they are called pasteis de Belem while everywhere else they’re known as pasteis de nata.

What makes this pastry so delicious? Perhaps it’s the de nata’s light shell. Reminiscent of puff pastry, its airy crispness provides the perfect contrast to a velvety custard. Then again, maybe it’s the custard. Whipped together from fresh cream, egg yolks and sugar, its warm, gentle flavor makes me yearn for more.

If traveling to Portugal isn’t in your future and you don’t have a Portuguese bakery or restaurant nearby, try baking pasteis de natas at home. Serve them warm, with a demitasse of espresso or cup of strong, black coffee, just as they would in Portugal.

PASTEIS DE NATA
From “Portuguese Cooking” (Casa Editrice Bonechi)
Serves 6

2 cups all purpose flour
lukewarm water
1 cup butter, softened
8 ounces cream
4 egg yolks
1 tablespoon all purpose flour
¾ cup superfine sugar
zest of one lemon
powdered sugar, for decorating
cinnamon, for decorating
Special equipment — 6 (3 1/2-inch to 4-inch) tart pans

Sift the flour into a large bowl. Using a hand mixer, mix with enough lukewarm water so that a soft dough forms. Allow to stand for 15 minutes. Place on a lightly floured surface and knead briefly before forming into a block. Roll out to about 1/2-inch thick. Spread 1/3 of the softened butter over the dough, fold over into thirds, knead and shape into a block again. Repeat these steps for the remaining two-thirds of butter. When finished, allow the dough to rest for 15 minutes.

Roll out the dough to 1/3-inch thick. Cut into 4-inch wide strips then roll these, one by one, into tight cylinders. Cut the cylinders into 1/2-inch thick slices and place each in a tart pan. After wetting your fingers, fit the pastry over the bottom and sides of the pans to line them; don’t allow the pastry to go over the rims.

Preheat the oven to 425 degrees Fahrenheit.

To make the custard, whisk together the cream, egg yolks, flour, sugar and lemon zest in a medium-sized saucepan. Heat the mixture over low heat and slowly bring to a boil, stirring the entire time. As soon as the custard starts to boil, remove from the heat and allow to it to cool to room temperature before pouring into the individual pans. Smooth out the surface of the custards and then bake them until golden brown on top, about 10 to 15 minutes. Remove them from the oven and allow them to cool in their pans. Dust the tops with cinnamon and powdered sugar and serve.

Smokin'

Some consider it a luxury item, served only on special occasions. Others relegate it to the brunch table, as topping for a bagel. Yet, to me, smoked salmon is far more than fancy finger food. Whether featured in a pasta dish, incorporated into a salad or filling a fajita, it remains a versatile, multi-faceted fish.

Although considered a delicacy, smoked salmon has quite humble beginnings. Born out of necessity, smoking was the means by which medieval Europeans ensured that their bountiful salmon catches would remain edible throughout the year.

To preserve their fish, the anglers would first clean and fillet their salmon. They then sprinkled salt and sugar onto the flesh, stacked the fillets on top of each other and inserted them into an active smokehouse. There the salmon would remain in roughly 75 to 85 degree Fahrenheit temperature until smoked completely.

Unlike the tender, moist products of today, the early European versions had a tough texture reminiscent of jerky. They also possessed a strong, salty tang that differed greatly from the present day’s milder flavor.

While the taste and texture have evolved over the years, what hasn’t changed is its healthfulness. Rich in omega-3 fatty acids, smoked salmon remains a high protein, low calorie food.

Although purists may opt to eat smoked salmon with a dusting of ground pepper and on a cracker, bagel or slice of rye or pumpernickel bread, a wealth of hot and cold recipes exist. Consider an updated croque-monsieur or eggs Benedict where smoked salmon replaces the ham. For breakfast sample a smoked salmon quiche, omelet or frittata or smoked salmon wrap, pasta or polenta at dinner.

Prefer cold dishes? Try a chopped smoked salmon-avocado-tomato-red onion salad, smoked salmon and cucumber tea sandwiches or smoked salmon gazpacho or vichyssoise soup.

SMOKED SALMON-AVOCADO-TOMATO TARTARE
Serves 4 to 6

You can call this either a tartare or chopped salad and serve it as an appetizer, side or first course.

4 tomatoes, seeded and diced
1 cup red onion, cut into thin, ½ to 1-inch long strips
2 avocados, flesh scooped out and cut into cubes
¼ cup fresh parsley, washed, dried and chopped
juice of 1 lemon
1 cup (approximately 6 ounces) smoked salmon, cut into small strips
freshly ground white pepper, to taste

Place the tomatoes, onions, avocados and parsley in a medium-sized bowl and drizzle the lemon juice over top. Add the smoked salmon and a dash of ground white pepper. Stir to combine and taste for seasoning, adding more ground pepper if necessary. Serve immediately or cover with plastic wrap, pressing down on the surface so that no air collects beneath the wrap, and refrigerate for up to 5 hours.

Bit of the Bubbly


I spent much of last week in Dallas so the obvious choice would be to write about Tex Mex food. Yet, as I quickly learned, there’s more to Texas cuisine than chilies and guacamole. For instance, there is beer. No, I don’t mean the obvious, South-of-the-Border choices such as Corona or Dos Equis but rather all the other fine brews found on tap there.

Want an American craft beer such as Ommegang‘s Three Philosophers or Dogfish Head 60 Minute IPA? How about an Italian Peroni, English Young’s Double Chocolate Stout or a Belgian Maredsous, Leffe Blonde or Chimay? I could enjoy them all and many more at the lively Old Monk and The Ginger Man.

Drinking all these heady lagers and ales made me think, unsurprisingly, about food and how infrequently I use beer when cooking. Sure, every now and then I pull together a tasty Guinness- or Victory Lager-based cheese fondue. Still, I’ve not spent enough time tinkering in the kitchen and seeing what other recipes can benefit from a bottle of good beer.

Thanks to adventurous friends and restaurants, I do know the pleasures of shellfish cooked in this liquid. Mussels, clams and shrimp all perk up when steamed or sauteed in beer. Pair them with an IPA and molasses barbecue sauce and you’ve got a lip-smacking, finger-licking meal.

Fish not your favorite? Braise pork, sausage, beef or chicken in a pilsner. Use stout as the stock for an incredibly rich chili or beef or vegetable stew. Bake bread from an ale-based batter or cake from a porter-chocolate mix. If all else fails, fire up the barbecue and grill some succulent beer can chicken. The options are endless.

Likewise limitless are the number of books devoted to this subject. When searching for a quality beer cookbook, avoid those with recipes that don’t differentiate between varieties — i.e. “12 ounces of beer” versus “12 ounces of stout, pale ale . . ..” Contrary to the generic instructions, the brew that you choose will greatly influence how your dish tastes.

Until I have more time to experiment and test other beer-infused offerings, I’ll pass along a tried and true recipe for cheese fondue. Needless to say, it goes well with an iced cold beer or two.

VICTORY LAGER CHEESE FONDUE
Serves 2 to 3

3 apples, peeled, cored and cut into slices
juice of a lemon
8 ounces Victory Lager or any well-balanced, German-style lager
2 cups Grueyere cheese, shredded
2 cups Emmental cheese, shredded
1/8 teaspoon ground nutmeg
dash ground white pepper
1 baguette, cut into cubes

Special equipment: Fondue pot and fondue forks or long, wooden or bamboo skewers

Place the apple slices in a bowl and sprinkle the lemon juice over them to stop them from browning.

Pour the beer into a fondue pot and bring the liquid to a simmer over moderate heat. Gradually add the cheese to the pot and stir so that the cheese melts evenly. Cook for 5 to 10 minutes until cheese is completely melted and the liquid is creamy. Add the nutmeg and pepper and stir to combine.

Place the bread cubes in a separate bowl. Serve them, along with the apple slices, for dipping.

Wonders of Won Tons

I used to believe that some cuisines were best left to the professionals. Why spend hours scouring specialty markets for hard-to-find ingredients when I could just order take-out from the nearby Thai, Vietnamese, Chinese or Japanese restaurant? Then I spent a day in the kitchen with my husband’s step-father. A native of Vietnam, Luong is the guy to go to if you want to learn about, if not master, the fine art of Asian cooking.

On that transformative day we focused on won tons. A staple of Chinese cuisine, these dumplings required no lengthy shopping trips for rare ingredients. Likewise, they involved no special culinary skills. Just chop, stuff and boil. Who knew that cooking Asian food could be so easy? Not me!

With our ingredients spread out on the kitchen counter, Luong coached me on how to make the perfect, time-saving won tons. His trick? Store-bought, wheat flour dumpling wrappers. These can be found online as well as in specialty grocery stores and the Asian section of most supermarkets. Remember to moisten the wrappers with a damp towel and let them sit and soften for a few minutes before using.

Wrappers limber, we set out to stuff and seal our dumplings. Although usually loaded with ground pork as well as shrimp and minced onions, these won tons contained chicken. Perfect for pork-abstaining or shellfish-sensitive Asian food fans.

Once we had formed the dumplings, we reserved half for a bubbling pot of won ton soup. The others we boiled and paired with a dipping sauce of two parts soy sauce to one part honey and rice vinegar. In the end we had two fabulous Asian meals, neither of which depended upon calling for take-out.

CHICKEN WON TONS
Makes approximately 60 dumplings

1 lb. lean ground chicken
2 scallions, finely chopped
2 shallots, finely chopped
4 shitake mushrooms, roughly chopped
small piece of ginger, grated
12 water chestnuts, chopped
2 cloves of garlic, peeled and minced
8 – 10 shrimp, cut into pieces
6 tablespoons soy sauce
60 Shanghai-style won ton or dumpling wrappers
salt and pepper to taste
6 to 8 quarts salted water, for cooking
soy sauce, for garnish

Fill a medium-sized stockpot with lightly salted water and bring to a boil.

Wet a paper towel and place it over the dumpling/won ton wrappers to moisten them.

Place the shallots, scallions, mushrooms, garlic, water chestnuts, ground chicken, shrimp, ginger, salt and pepper in a large bowl and stir to combine. Add the soy sauce and stir again.

Bring the salted water to a boil.

Peel off a dumpling wrapper and place 1 tablespoon of filling in the middle of the wrapper. Moisten the edges of the wrapper and fold into a crescent. Press down on the edges with the tines of a fork. Place on plate.

Repeat this process with all the wrappers, making sure not to overlap the dumplings on the plate or they will stick together.

In batches place the dumplings in the boiling water and cook. When they float to the surface, they are finished. Remove won tons with wire skimmer or slotted spoon. Serve on plates with soy sauce or place in a broth and serve as a soup.

*Note: The same ingredients can be used for won ton soup. After filling the won ton wrappers, twist the edges up into a tepee. Place in won ton soup broth (1 chunk of whole ginger to be removed once soup is finished, 1 sliced shallot, 1 can of chicken broth) and cook.

The Smart Choice

Over the weekend, while everyone else was off enjoying a few snow-free days, I sat in my office, struggling over an assignment on sardines. Whenever I became convinced that I had captured the delights of these small, iridescent fish, my husband would read a few lines and announce that I still hadn’t sold him, yet.

He isn’t alone in his status of sardine sourpuss. Many Americans write off this flavorful, little fellow as being too oily, boney, fishy or just too startling – with its head and tail intact – to use in a dish.


For me, though, sardines remain a tasty, smart, and economical alternative to ‘fast fish’ such as canned tuna and larger, carnivorous creatures such as salmon. With a flavor reminiscent of a heartier, earthier tuna sardines can jazz up a variety foods including sandwiches and subs, salads, pasta, pizza and dips.

Their rich, meaty flavor also allows them to stand on their own, grilled and served with a side of mixed greens or couscous. Their fatty flesh makes them perfect not only for grilling but also for broiling and frying.

Recoil at the thought of fattiness? Think again. Sardines are high in omega-3 fatty acids, which may reduce the risk of cardiovascular disease, cancer and arthritis. They likewise are a good source of protein.

The health benefits don’t end here. Thanks to their short life spans, primarily herbivore eating habits and wild-caught status, sardines are low in mercury and other toxins. Although abundant in supply, these guys have stringent catch quotas, further enhancing their low environmental impact.

If these wonderful aspects don’t sway naysayers, consider the price. A 3.75-ounce can of boneless, skinless sardines cost as little as $1. Talk about value on your plate.

Still feel that you’ll never try a sardine? Chances are that you already have. A generic term, “sardine” applies to a variety of tiny, soft-boned, saltwater fish. Anchovies, herring, pilchards and sprat all fall under this category. So, if you’ve ever nibbled on a Caesar salad, with its salty, anchovy-laced dressing, or chowed down on bread slathered in the warm Italian dip bagna cauda, then you’ve eaten sardines.

ONION-SARDINE PUFF
Serves 4 to 6

1 sheet of frozen puff pastry, thawed
3 tablespoons olive oil
1 ½ medium white onions, peeled and sliced into crescents
¾ teaspoon salt
1 (3.75-ounce) can of skinless, boneless sardines
1 teaspoon fresh rosemary, chopped
½ teaspoon dried thyme

Preheat the oven to 400 degrees Fahrenheit. Roll out the thawed puff pastry and place it on an ungreased baking sheet.

In a medium frying or sauté pan heat the oil on medium high. Add the onions and salt and sauté until softened, about 6 minutes. You should end up with about 1 1/2 cups cooked onion. Remove the onions from the pan and spread them evenly over the puff pastry.

Using your fingers, break the sardines into chunks and place them on top of the onions, spacing them evenly apart. Sprinkle the fresh rosemary and dried thyme over the onions and sardines and insert the puff into the oven.

Bake for 15 to 20 minutes, until the pastry has puffed up and the edges have browned slightly. Cut into squares and serve warm.