Showing posts with label smørrebrød. Show all posts
Showing posts with label smørrebrød. Show all posts

Tuesday, July 31, 2012

Super Sandwich Supper



So the New York Times Magazine put  "Photos of your open-faced sandwich" on their "Meh List:  Not Hot, Not Not, Just Meh."  I don't care. I'm still excited to share our version of a Danish smorrebrod dinner, composed of slices from a beautiful rye, cracked wheat, and cider sourdough loaf topped with gorgeous things from the woods, the garden,  farmers market, local farms, and Superior's clean waters.  Maybe a tuna melt is meh; not this, no way.



What I loved about this meal--besides how beautiful it was, besides how wonderful it tasted--was the way it combined such an amazing diversity of local products in a plate that was beyond delicious:  It was deeply and deliciously meaningful.  It was the kind of thing that led me to compose the Trout Caviar Manifesto, way back when:  "Our stuff is as good as anybody's stuff, and part of the reason it's good is that it's ours."  I'm more convinced of that all the time, as if I should need convincing.



Let me just tell you what this was made of, and where it all came from.  Oh, the smorrebrod concept, that's a Danish institution that's making a comeback and making the rounds thanks to the boom in interest in Nordic foods, foraging, and down-home ingredients.  It's open-face sandwiches--knife & fork sandwiches--usually built on a thin slice of sturdy rye, well-buttered, topped with savory things.  That'll work here.  Hope Creamery butter, unsalted, is our daily spread.




Roast Beets and Shaved Fennel in Maple-Blackberry Vinaigrette, Hard-Cooked Farm Egg:  Beets and fennel from our garden; vinaigrette with our blackberry-infused apple cider vinegar, Connorsville maple syrup, Smude Minnesota cold-pressed sunflower oil, farmers market garlic, eggs from Tina's hens





Smoked Lake Trout in Yogurt-Basil Dressing, Quick-Pickled Snow Peas, Carrot, and Onion:  Everett's (Port Wing, WI) Lake Superior smoked trout; peas, carrots, jalapeno, and basil from our garden, onion from the farmers market, pickled in our cider vinegar, Connorsville honey, salt; home-cultured yogurt from Connorsville milk (and a bit of Hellmann's)





Roasted Chanterelles and Yellow Rose Finn Fingerlings with Sweet Onion and Bacon:  Foraged chanterelles, farmers market potatoes and onion, home-smoked bacon, Marieke aged gouda from Thorp, Wisconsin

Excuse me for going a little giddy.  It's the height of summer, everything is ripe, and I feel like I'm sitting at the hub of a great wheel of extraordinary food.  A slice of good bread and butter makes a splendid canvas for showing off the best of seasonal produce.  Set your imagination free from preconceived notions of sandwich toppings.  Now I'll let these very, very not-meh pictures tell the story, with just a little commentary, and formulas.



The chanterelles really got going last week.  I brought home a couple of pounds from the Wisconsin woods.  Almost as good are the yellow rose fingerling potatoes that we purchased at a Menomonie farmers market--lovely red skins and buttery pale yellow flesh.  This is the kind of spud that earns an AOC.  I used 7 or 8 medium chanterelles (about 2 inches across the cap), 5 potatoes, half a small sweet onion, and just a few slivers of bacon.  I placed all in a gratin dish, started it at 425 and immediately turned the oven down to 350. Roast for about 30 minutes, stirring often, until potatoes and chanterelles are brown and tender.  Let cool to room temperature, mound on buttered bread, top with thin slices of cheese, not too much.  Of course this could be a side dish as well as a smorrebrod topping.



Roast beets in a covered baking dish at 425 until tender--40 minutes to an hour or more, it's always hard to tell with beets.  I always make more beets than I need for a given dish--cooked beets are great to have in the fridge in summer for quick salads or garnish.  There's often a bit of juice in the dish after roasting, and I used some in my vinaigrette this time, about a tablespoon.  It can be bitter, so taste it straight up to decide if you want to use it.  A little bitter is okay.  It adds a spicy earthiness to the dressing.  We harvested our first bulb of fennel from the garden, and it was amazingly sweet and aromatic.  It was a small bulb, and I shaved half of it into the salad with the Benriner, used some greens, too.

2 teaspoons maple syrup
1 tablespoon beet roasting juice
large clove garlic minced
1 tablespoon blackberry or raspberry vinegar (or red wine or cider vinegar, just fine)
chopped fennel greens, about 1 tablespoon
lots of freshly ground black pepper
2 tablespoons sunflower oil
two good pinches salt

At the bottom of the page where Mary wrote recipe notes it says, "Outstanding."  We topped the beet sandwiches with sliced hard-cooked egg and a sprig of fennel green.



I have a problematic relationship with basil.  I love its summery scent, but I sort of ODed on it back in those distant days when America discovered pesto, so now I approach it warily.  However, a few leaves chopped into this yogurt-mayo dressing was wonderful, especially with the smokiness of the fish.

1/4 cup yogurt
2 tablespoons mayonnaise (I didn't make this, it was Hellmann's)
chopped basil and flat-leaf parsley to taste
couple pinches salt

Mix and add to a generous cup of flaked smoked lake trout or other smoked fish--herring, whitefish, etc.

For the quick-pickled vegetables, combine in a small saucepan:

1/4 cup water
1/4 cup apple cider vinegar
2 tablespoons honey
1/2 a jalapeno seeded and slivered
1 teaspoon salt

Bring to a boil and add thinly sliced carrot (1 medium) and onion (1/2 small); simmer for 2 minutes.  Add a handful of snow peas and a few shelled peas, simmer 1 minute, remove from heat.  Let the vegetables cool in the brine.  Use to top the trout salad.



Text and photos copyright 2012 by Brett Laidlaw

Thursday, July 1, 2010

Lunch à la Dansk


It's heating up here on the first day of July, and the humidity is rising with the temps. And though it's Canada Day today, and our American Independence Day coming up this weekend, I'm thinking about things Danish. I am thinking, specifically, of
smørrebrød, those Danish open-face sandwiches that are so appealing this time of year.

To the Danes, smørrebrød is more than a food, it's a keystone of the culture. But I've also read that it's a fading one. While a
1986 New York Times article reported that 90 percent of Copenhagen's restaurants focused on smørrebrød, a Saveur magazine article of a couple years back was tolling its death knell. Younger people considered smørrebrød quant and old-fashioned, Saveur reported. Most of Copenhagen's smørrebrød restaurants were frequented by tourists.



My forays into smørrebrød may not be wholly authentic, but I'm happy to try to keep its spirit alive. Well, any meal based on bread is bound to find a tender spot in a baker's heart, and the wonderful variety of (usually) cold toppings makes this a perfect sort of food for a summer brunch or dinner on a warm evening.

My smørrebrød lunch today was simply an opportunistic omnivore's treat. I had the end of a loaf of caraway rye (I managed to save us a loaf from the market baking last week; I can't tell you how many times I've gotten home from the market, looked around the kitchen, and realized
there wasn't a crust of bread to be found...). I had a little pickled ramp mayo in the fridge. Some of our home-smoked bacon just begging to be eaten up. And a jar of pickled turnips--nabo encurtido--from Peter and Carmen. The jar says these are "Peter's Pickles," but I'm guessing that Carmen knows a little more about Peruvian pickled turnips than Peter.... (Sorry blurry photo; the condensation on the jar messes up the camera.)

Smørrebrød frequently features pig and pickles. My use of the ramp mayo in place of butter is a variant, maybe a deviant--the base of good butter spread coast to coast on the rye is de rigeur in an authentic smørrebrød, but as I say, I'm honoring the spirit here.

So: the thin-sliced rye, liberally spread with pickled ramp mayo*, topped with the thin-sliced bacon gently rendered to not-quite-crisp, topped with a couple slices of Carmen's lovely sweet & sour turnip slices. A dab of dill** and a little sweet market onion is all it needs.

I poured a glass of Cuvée Bide-A-Wee 2009, our hard apple cider that is coming along wonderfully. Working at home does have certain advantages.

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* To make pickled ramp mayo, make
pickled ramps; make mayo, but use just a little lemon juice in preparing the basic mayo, a squeeze or two. When the mayo is finished, add two pickled ramps, chopped fine, and two tablespoons of the pickled ramp brine. Taste for seasoning, and add a little more lemon juice if needed, to balance the sweetness of the brine. You could substitute another sort of sweet-and-sour pickled onion.

** I threw the dill on there at the end just to give a little green contrast to the white turnip--I don't generally add superfluous cosmetic garnishes to my lunch. But you know, come to eat it, the dill really helped pull everything together, just that little bit. The previous few years my garden has been overtaken by a volunteer dill jungle. This year, there's hardly any out there. Weird, weird gardening year.

Text and photos copyright 2010 by Brett Laidlaw