< Previous09 21 135134 SERVES 4 Parsnip Chips 2 parsnips, peeled Salt and freshly ground black pepper White Poppy Seed Dressing ½ cup (1½ oz/35 g) minced shallots ½ cup (2 oz/50 g) garlic, minced ½ cup (2 oz/50 g) minced fennel ¼ tablespoon minced ginger 1 teaspoon salt ½ cup (4 fl oz/120 g) white verjus 1 teaspoon distilled white vinegar 1½ teaspoons cider vinegar 2 teaspoons Dijon mustard Grated zest of 1 lemon 1 tablespoon honey 1 bunch parsley, chopped ¼ cup (2 fl oz/60 g) aquafaba 1 tablespoon white poppy seeds 1 cup (8 fl oz/224 g) blend oil ½ cup (4 fl oz 120 g) olive oil To Serve 2–3 heads radicchio, cleaned and leaves separated 1 Asian pear, halved, cored, sliced Lemon juice, to taste 4 oz (120 g) pecorino Toscano, shaved 1 teaspoon white poppy seeds Salt and fresh cracked pepper MAKE THE PARSNIP CHIPS Heat the oil in a deep fryer or large, heavy pot to 300°F/150°C, or until a cube of bread browns in 30 seconds. Using a vegetable peeler, create strips of parsnip by “peeling” long, wispy strands along the entire length of the root. Deep fry the parsnip pieces for 2 minutes, taking care to move the pieces around and fry them evenly. Drain on a paper towel-lined tray. Season with salt and pepper. MAKE THE WHITE POPPY SEED DRESSING In a mixing bowl, combine the shallots, garlic, fennel, and ginger with salt, verjus, and vinegars. After 15 minutes, add all the remaining ingredients except the oils. Whisk heartily; you’re trying to get some air into the mixture and begin the emulsification process. Then whisk in the oils as though making an aioli. You should have a rich, creamy dressing. TO SERVE In a large salad bowl, dress the radicchio leaves and pear with the dressing, with an additional splash of lemon juice. Taste and adjust the seasoning with salt and fresh cracked pepper. Build the salad in layers on 4 plates, with the leaves and pear alternating with shaved pecorino, white poppy seeds, and parsnip chips. It was a rainy morning in September when I bumped into Michael Thompson—beekeeper at Chicago Honey Co-op and a well-loved guru at the Green City Market—as he rode through Logan Square on a loaded cargo bike. Michael apparently knows my tastes well. He stopped to tell me of an urban garden he’d seen near Garfield Park with a patch that was filled, fence to fence, with small heads of radicchio. “They won’t know what to do with it all,” he said. “I immediately thought of you. And there you were.” We ended up buying the entire garden’s worth and running this salad for, alas, just two nights. But it was memorable for the circumstance and for the dressing we created for our lucky find—a vegan poppy seed dressing that really messed with your mind. It was the perfect tangy foil. I got the idea to use aquafaba, the leftover liquid from cooking chickpeas, from Sarah and Sara of Kismet Restaurant in Los Angeles, and the way the starchy water made the verjus emulsify with the olive oil tricked most people into thinking we’d added buttermilk or yogurt. But, no, this dressing is dairy free. Then we antagonists had to shave pecorino Toscano all over the top. Verjus is the highly acidic juice of unripe grapes. In the Middle Ages it was more common than vinegar in dressings and sauces. We use it here as part of a trio of acids that includes distilled white vinegar and cider vinegar. I love the way a mix-and-match approach to acids pulls back the assertive flavors of some vinegars (cider and sherry are particular offenders) without forfeiting the grip on your tongue. To me, verjus, especially the white variety, has a gentleness that other vinegars don’t, and yet still hits all the high notes. As we say, it makes things pop. SALADS ASIAN PEAR AND RADICCHIO SALAD WITH PECORINO TOSCANA09 21 135134 SERVES 4 Parsnip Chips 2 parsnips, peeled Salt and freshly ground black pepper White Poppy Seed Dressing ½ cup (1½ oz/35 g) minced shallots ½ cup (2 oz/50 g) garlic, minced ½ cup (2 oz/50 g) minced fennel ¼ tablespoon minced ginger 1 teaspoon salt ½ cup (4 fl oz/120 g) white verjus 1 teaspoon distilled white vinegar 1½ teaspoons cider vinegar 2 teaspoons Dijon mustard Grated zest of 1 lemon 1 tablespoon honey 1 bunch parsley, chopped ¼ cup (2 fl oz/60 g) aquafaba 1 tablespoon white poppy seeds 1 cup (8 fl oz/224 g) blend oil ½ cup (4 fl oz 120 g) olive oil To Serve 2–3 heads radicchio, cleaned and leaves separated 1 Asian pear, halved, cored, sliced Lemon juice, to taste 4 oz (120 g) pecorino Toscano, shaved 1 teaspoon white poppy seeds Salt and fresh cracked pepper MAKE THE PARSNIP CHIPS Heat the oil in a deep fryer or large, heavy pot to 300°F/150°C, or until a cube of bread browns in 30 seconds. Using a vegetable peeler, create strips of parsnip by “peeling” long, wispy strands along the entire length of the root. Deep fry the parsnip pieces for 2 minutes, taking care to move the pieces around and fry them evenly. Drain on a paper towel-lined tray. Season with salt and pepper. MAKE THE WHITE POPPY SEED DRESSING In a mixing bowl, combine the shallots, garlic, fennel, and ginger with salt, verjus, and vinegars. After 15 minutes, add all the remaining ingredients except the oils. Whisk heartily; you’re trying to get some air into the mixture and begin the emulsification process. Then whisk in the oils as though making an aioli. You should have a rich, creamy dressing. TO SERVE In a large salad bowl, dress the radicchio leaves and pear with the dressing, with an additional splash of lemon juice. Taste and adjust the seasoning with salt and fresh cracked pepper. Build the salad in layers on 4 plates, with the leaves and pear alternating with shaved pecorino, white poppy seeds, and parsnip chips. It was a rainy morning in September when I bumped into Michael Thompson—beekeeper at Chicago Honey Co-op and a well-loved guru at the Green City Market—as he rode through Logan Square on a loaded cargo bike. Michael apparently knows my tastes well. He stopped to tell me of an urban garden he’d seen near Garfield Park with a patch that was filled, fence to fence, with small heads of radicchio. “They won’t know what to do with it all,” he said. “I immediately thought of you. And there you were.” We ended up buying the entire garden’s worth and running this salad for, alas, just two nights. But it was memorable for the circumstance and for the dressing we created for our lucky find—a vegan poppy seed dressing that really messed with your mind. It was the perfect tangy foil. I got the idea to use aquafaba, the leftover liquid from cooking chickpeas, from Sarah and Sara of Kismet Restaurant in Los Angeles, and the way the starchy water made the verjus emulsify with the olive oil tricked most people into thinking we’d added buttermilk or yogurt. But, no, this dressing is dairy free. Then we antagonists had to shave pecorino Toscano all over the top. Verjus is the highly acidic juice of unripe grapes. In the Middle Ages it was more common than vinegar in dressings and sauces. We use it here as part of a trio of acids that includes distilled white vinegar and cider vinegar. I love the way a mix-and-match approach to acids pulls back the assertive flavors of some vinegars (cider and sherry are particular offenders) without forfeiting the grip on your tongue. To me, verjus, especially the white variety, has a gentleness that other vinegars don’t, and yet still hits all the high notes. As we say, it makes things pop. SALADS ASIAN PEAR AND RADICCHIO SALAD WITH PECORINO TOSCANA02 16 186187 Preheat the oven to 400°F/200°C. Rub the short ribs with pepper, garlic, anchovies, minced rosemary, tomato paste, 2 tablespoons of olive oil, and 1 tablespoon of salt, and place it on a sheet tray (baking tray) with the pancetta. Add enough water to cover the meat by a ¼ inch (5 mm). Place the tray in the oven and roast until caramelized, approximately 30 minutes. Do not turn. Meanwhile, combine the onions, carrots, celery, and remaining olive oil in a small sauce pot, cooking over very low heat until tender, about 7 minutes. Do not brown. Remove to a blender and purée, then return the purée to a large stock pot with the tomatoes and simmer for 45 minutes. Remove the short ribs and pancetta from the oven and add to the tomato sauce. Using a flat-edged wooden spoon, scrape any caramelized bits from the sheet tray directly into the sauce. Add the red wine, bay leaf, cinnamon, fennel, and chile, then reduce the heat and simmer until the short ribs are so tender that they fall apart with the simple prod of a fork, about 45 minutes to 1 hour. Remove the meat, shred, then return to the sauce. Bring a pan of salted water to the boil and cook the gemelli according to packet directions until al dente. Transfer the cooked pasta to the pan of short ribs (reserve the pasta water) and continue to simmer for 1 minute, to meld the flavors together. Add the butter, parsley, a splash of pasta water, and lemon juice and salt, to taste. Toss to combine. Plate and top with the ricotta in the center. Scatter the Parmesan over the top, then garnish with the finely chopped rosemary and a drizzle of spruce oil. SERVES 4 2 lb (900 g) short ribs, trimmed 1 teaspoon black pepper 2 cloves garlic, crushed 2 anchovies, finely minced 2 teaspoons minced rosemary, plus 2 teaspoons finely chopped 1 tablespoon tomato paste ¼ cup (2 fl oz/60 g) olive oil, plus 2 tablespoons 1½ oz (45 g) pancetta ½ onion (33/4 oz/110 g), minced 1 carrot (4 oz/120 g), minced 1 stalk celery (1½ oz/45 g), minced 4 cups (2¼ lb /1 kg) canned (tinned) whole San Marzano tomatoes, passed through a food mill ¼ cup (2 fl oz/60 gl) red wine 1 bay leaf small pinch cinnamon ¼ teaspoon fennel seeds, toasted and crushed big pinch red chile flakes 4 cups (1 lb/420 g) gemelli 2 tablespoons butter 2 teaspoons finely chopped parsley ¼ cup (2½ oz/60 g) Ricotta (page 254, or shop-bought) 6 tablespoons grated Parmesan 1 teaspoon Spruce Oil, for drizzling (page 251) Lemon juice, to taste Salt, to taste Much like the vongole at Lorenzo’s (page 75), I’ve often wanted to serve my grandmother’s ragù at Lula. Evelyn cooked a slow-simmered Sunday “sauce” full of short ribs, meatballs, and pork sausage, always enough for both my family and my aunt’s family down the street. Like so many Italian-Americans, I have visceral memories of what it was like to walk into my grandmother’s narrow galley kitchen with the cauldron gurgling beast-like and crimson red over two back burners, rafts of pork fat and olive oil pooling on the surface. As it simmered over the course of a day, the colors of the tomato caramelized and deepened, staining the oil nearly black. An undercounter radio would play the Dean Martin standards that my grandparents danced to at the Italian-American club on Saturday nights. The times I’ve tried to recreate the recipe, despite the way the kitchen begins to smell like hers, the flavors never return. Like a photograph, my recipe for her sauce is only close to real. One winter we tried a different direction with the short rib ragu, incorporating more rosemary, bay leaf, even a little cinnamon. We started the recipe by coating the short ribs in a rub of herbs, tomato paste, and anchovy, which my grandmother would have never thought to do. I love the way anchovy sharpens the woodsy pine of the rosemary, intensifies the browning of the ribs. We topped the dish with ricotta, a dollop which melts into the sauce as you eat. When I was a kid I’d sneak into the kitchen late at night to eat cold bites straight from the plastic container, hunting for morsels of short rib with my fingers. This recipe makes extra for those moments of late-night searching. PASTA & ONE RISOTTO GEMELLI WITH SHORT RIB RAGU02 16 186187 Preheat the oven to 400°F/200°C. Rub the short ribs with pepper, garlic, anchovies, minced rosemary, tomato paste, 2 tablespoons of olive oil, and 1 tablespoon of salt, and place it on a sheet tray (baking tray) with the pancetta. Add enough water to cover the meat by a ¼ inch (5 mm). Place the tray in the oven and roast until caramelized, approximately 30 minutes. Do not turn. Meanwhile, combine the onions, carrots, celery, and remaining olive oil in a small sauce pot, cooking over very low heat until tender, about 7 minutes. Do not brown. Remove to a blender and purée, then return the purée to a large stock pot with the tomatoes and simmer for 45 minutes. Remove the short ribs and pancetta from the oven and add to the tomato sauce. Using a flat-edged wooden spoon, scrape any caramelized bits from the sheet tray directly into the sauce. Add the red wine, bay leaf, cinnamon, fennel, and chile, then reduce the heat and simmer until the short ribs are so tender that they fall apart with the simple prod of a fork, about 45 minutes to 1 hour. Remove the meat, shred, then return to the sauce. Bring a pan of salted water to the boil and cook the gemelli according to packet directions until al dente. Transfer the cooked pasta to the pan of short ribs (reserve the pasta water) and continue to simmer for 1 minute, to meld the flavors together. Add the butter, parsley, a splash of pasta water, and lemon juice and salt, to taste. Toss to combine. Plate and top with the ricotta in the center. Scatter the Parmesan over the top, then garnish with the finely chopped rosemary and a drizzle of spruce oil. SERVES 4 2 lb (900 g) short ribs, trimmed 1 teaspoon black pepper 2 cloves garlic, crushed 2 anchovies, finely minced 2 teaspoons minced rosemary, plus 2 teaspoons finely chopped 1 tablespoon tomato paste ¼ cup (2 fl oz/60 g) olive oil, plus 2 tablespoons 1½ oz (45 g) pancetta ½ onion (33/4 oz/110 g), minced 1 carrot (4 oz/120 g), minced 1 stalk celery (1½ oz/45 g), minced 4 cups (2¼ lb /1 kg) canned (tinned) whole San Marzano tomatoes, passed through a food mill ¼ cup (2 fl oz/60 gl) red wine 1 bay leaf small pinch cinnamon ¼ teaspoon fennel seeds, toasted and crushed big pinch red chile flakes 4 cups (1 lb/420 g) gemelli 2 tablespoons butter 2 teaspoons finely chopped parsley ¼ cup (2½ oz/60 g) Ricotta (page 254, or shop-bought) 6 tablespoons grated Parmesan 1 teaspoon Spruce Oil, for drizzling (page 251) Lemon juice, to taste Salt, to taste Much like the vongole at Lorenzo’s (page 75), I’ve often wanted to serve my grandmother’s ragù at Lula. Evelyn cooked a slow-simmered Sunday “sauce” full of short ribs, meatballs, and pork sausage, always enough for both my family and my aunt’s family down the street. Like so many Italian-Americans, I have visceral memories of what it was like to walk into my grandmother’s narrow galley kitchen with the cauldron gurgling beast-like and crimson red over two back burners, rafts of pork fat and olive oil pooling on the surface. As it simmered over the course of a day, the colors of the tomato caramelized and deepened, staining the oil nearly black. An undercounter radio would play the Dean Martin standards that my grandparents danced to at the Italian-American club on Saturday nights. The times I’ve tried to recreate the recipe, despite the way the kitchen begins to smell like hers, the flavors never return. Like a photograph, my recipe for her sauce is only close to real. One winter we tried a different direction with the short rib ragu, incorporating more rosemary, bay leaf, even a little cinnamon. We started the recipe by coating the short ribs in a rub of herbs, tomato paste, and anchovy, which my grandmother would have never thought to do. I love the way anchovy sharpens the woodsy pine of the rosemary, intensifies the browning of the ribs. We topped the dish with ricotta, a dollop which melts into the sauce as you eat. When I was a kid I’d sneak into the kitchen late at night to eat cold bites straight from the plastic container, hunting for morsels of short rib with my fingers. This recipe makes extra for those moments of late-night searching. PASTA & ONE RISOTTO GEMELLI WITH SHORT RIB RAGU07 21 237236 A financier is an almond flour and egg white cake traditionally made in a rectangular shape. Legend has it that a French baker working near the Bourse, the Wall Street of Paris, named this dish for his customers. Or that the shape resembled a gold bar. Regardless, pastry chef Kim Janusz came up with her own version. She replaced almond flour with pistachio and created a crunchy coconut topping to emphasize the crisp edges of the bake. The soft, almost creamy interior and crisp edges remind me of the pleasures of the outside edge of a brownie. The flavors remind me of pistachio gelato, like when you take that first bite of the edge of the cone. It’s a perfect little morsel. MAKE THE PISTACHIO PASTE Combine all the ingredients in a blender and blend until smooth. MAKE THE COCONUT CRUNCH Preheat the oven to 325°F/165°C. Combine all the ingredients in a bowl and mix until thoroughly coated. Spread in a single layer on a tray covered with a nonstick silicone baking mat and toast for 8 minutes. Stir and return to the oven for another 6–8 minutes, until golden and fragrant. Cool completely. MAKE THE FINANCIER Preheat the oven to 350°F/180°C. Place the matcha powder, sugar, flours, and salt in a stand mixer fitted with the whisk attachment. Mix on low until combined. Add the egg whites all at once and return to low speed, then stop and scrape down the sides of the bowl and mix again until the batter is smooth. Meanwhile, melt the butter in a saucepan over high heat. Once the butter is completely melted and starts foaming, begin whisking. Cook the butter, whisking continuously, until dark brown and it smells nutty. With the mixer on the lowest speed, carefully stream the hot butter into the batter—make sure you add the browned butter bits at the bottom of the pan! Once all the butter is incorporated, scrape the mixer bowl down once more. Generously spray your desired molds (I use mini Bundt pans (tins), but cupcake pans will also work) with nonstick cooking spray and fill each one a little more than halfway. Bake until risen and starting to brown and a toothpick inserted comes out clean. Let sit and cool for a few minutes, then unmold while still warm. Drizzle pistachio paste on top of each financier, then use that paste as a “glue” to adhere your coconut crunch topping. SERVES 4 Pistachio Paste ⅓ cup (2½ fl oz/75 g) olive oil 1 cup (3¾ oz/110 g) pistachio flour 1½ oz/40 g powdered (icing) sugar ¼ teaspoon salt Coconut Crunch 1 cup (2½ oz/65 g) unsweetened coconut chips 2 tablespoons 2:1 simple syrup (see Candied Hazelnuts, page 223) 3½ teaspoons turbinado sugar ¼ teaspoon salt Matcha Pistachio Financier 1½ teaspoons matcha powder 1½ cups (5 oz/150 g) powdered (icing) sugar ⅓ cup (1¼ oz/45 g) all-purpose (plain) flour ⅓ cup (1¼ oz/45 g) pistachio flour ½ teaspoon salt 4 egg whites 4 oz (120 g) butter DESSERTS MATCHA PISTACHIO FINANCIER07 21 237236 A financier is an almond flour and egg white cake traditionally made in a rectangular shape. Legend has it that a French baker working near the Bourse, the Wall Street of Paris, named this dish for his customers. Or that the shape resembled a gold bar. Regardless, pastry chef Kim Janusz came up with her own version. She replaced almond flour with pistachio and created a crunchy coconut topping to emphasize the crisp edges of the bake. The soft, almost creamy interior and crisp edges remind me of the pleasures of the outside edge of a brownie. The flavors remind me of pistachio gelato, like when you take that first bite of the edge of the cone. It’s a perfect little morsel. MAKE THE PISTACHIO PASTE Combine all the ingredients in a blender and blend until smooth. MAKE THE COCONUT CRUNCH Preheat the oven to 325°F/165°C. Combine all the ingredients in a bowl and mix until thoroughly coated. Spread in a single layer on a tray covered with a nonstick silicone baking mat and toast for 8 minutes. Stir and return to the oven for another 6–8 minutes, until golden and fragrant. Cool completely. MAKE THE FINANCIER Preheat the oven to 350°F/180°C. Place the matcha powder, sugar, flours, and salt in a stand mixer fitted with the whisk attachment. Mix on low until combined. Add the egg whites all at once and return to low speed, then stop and scrape down the sides of the bowl and mix again until the batter is smooth. Meanwhile, melt the butter in a saucepan over high heat. Once the butter is completely melted and starts foaming, begin whisking. Cook the butter, whisking continuously, until dark brown and it smells nutty. With the mixer on the lowest speed, carefully stream the hot butter into the batter—make sure you add the browned butter bits at the bottom of the pan! Once all the butter is incorporated, scrape the mixer bowl down once more. Generously spray your desired molds (I use mini Bundt pans (tins), but cupcake pans will also work) with nonstick cooking spray and fill each one a little more than halfway. Bake until risen and starting to brown and a toothpick inserted comes out clean. Let sit and cool for a few minutes, then unmold while still warm. Drizzle pistachio paste on top of each financier, then use that paste as a “glue” to adhere your coconut crunch topping. SERVES 4 Pistachio Paste ⅓ cup (2½ fl oz/75 g) olive oil 1 cup (3¾ oz/110 g) pistachio flour 1½ oz/40 g powdered (icing) sugar ¼ teaspoon salt Coconut Crunch 1 cup (2½ oz/65 g) unsweetened coconut chips 2 tablespoons 2:1 simple syrup (see Candied Hazelnuts, page 223) 3½ teaspoons turbinado sugar ¼ teaspoon salt Matcha Pistachio Financier 1½ teaspoons matcha powder 1½ cups (5 oz/150 g) powdered (icing) sugar ⅓ cup (1¼ oz/45 g) all-purpose (plain) flour ⅓ cup (1¼ oz/45 g) pistachio flour ½ teaspoon salt 4 egg whites 4 oz (120 g) butter DESSERTS MATCHA PISTACHIO FINANCIERTHE LULA CAFE COOKBOOK IS EXECUTIVE CHEF JASON HAMMEL’S DEBUT BOOK CELEBRATING HIS ICONIC CHICAGO RESTAURANT AND RECIPES. HE IS AN AWARD- WINNING TRAILBLAZER, KNOWN FOR HIS ELEVATED, CREATIVE CUISINE FEATURING NEW DAILY SEASONAL DISHES, LOCALLY SOURCED. HIS INNOVATIVE COOKING SUCH AS CELERY ROOT & ALMOND BISQUE AND BEET & STRAWBERRY PANZANELLA FILLS THE BOOK’S BOLDLY DESIGNED PAGES, ALONG WITH HIS CORNERSTONE CAFE CLASSICS—INCLUDING PASTA YIAYIA, CHICKPEA & FENNEL TAGINE AS WELL AS BAKED FRENCH FETA WITH MARINATED OLIVES AND THE "TINEKA" SANDWICH. LULA’S GUESTS ARE LOCALS, VISITING GOURMANDS, ARTISTS, WRITERS, AND MUSICIANS, AND HIS WRITING IS INFUSED WITH THEIR CREATIVE SPIRIT. HAMMEL HAS BEEN A MENTOR TO A GENERATION OF CHEFS, AND HE IS EXECUTIVE CHEF OF MARISOL AT THE MUSEUM OF CONTEMPORARY ART.Next >