Retro Recipes and Traditional Fare

Most people look at an artichoke and think: "What do I do with this?" But artichokes only look intimidating, they're actually easy to prepare once you know how. Originally from the Mediterranean, artichokes have a history that dates back to Roman times. There are countless cultivated varieties, especially in Italy, where artichokes are enjoyed in many different preparations including raw salads, stuffed and baked, steamed, grilled, etc. In the States we have just two varieties: the large globe and small baby. The simplest way to prepare artichokes is steaming. Not only is it easy to do, the method also retains the subtle flavors that make artichokes so revered.

Artichokes make a fun party food since they require a hands-on approach. Each leaf is removed one by one and nibbled on. Once all the leaves have been removed, and the choke has been scraped away, only the heart remains. The heart and the stem have the most flavor. The leaves are not entirely edible, so you need to use your teeth to scrape the bit of flesh from each leaf. Typically steamed artichokes are served with melted butter or hollandaise, but I like to dip into Dijon vinaigrette, which is much lighter. Serve steamed artichokes as an appetizer for any occasion.

This is one of the simplest recipes but always a crowd pleaser. Everything can be picked up at the grocery store – unless you’re in the mood to roast your own peppers – and assembled quickly at home. The recipe can easily be increased to make as many servings as your gathering requires. Trader Joes makes a great Fire Roasted Red Bell Pepper if you happen to have one nearby.

Rare Roast Beef with Boursin and Red Bell Pepper Appetizers

Makes 12 pieces

12 slices dark pumpernickel bread or rye cocktail bread

1/2 cup Boursin Garlic & Fine Herbs cheese, at room temperature

6 thinly sliced pieces deli rare roast beef, cut in half

1/2 cup jarred roasted red peppers, cut into 1/4-inch wide strips

3 tablespoons chopped fresh thyme or dill

Fresh ground black pepper

1. Spread each piece of bread with 2 teaspoons of Boursin cheese and place piece roast beef. Top with 3 pepper strips and sprinkle with thyme or dill and a few grinds of black pepper. Refrigerate for up to 3 hours and bring to room temperature before serving.

“…definitely the tuna tartare, and the hazelnut crusted chicken, and… then a nice, big crudite platter…”

My client was reviewing my menu suggestions for her 150-guest cocktail party, adding the last one on her own.

“NO”, I said, a little more aggressively than I had intended. “No”, softer now, but with the same sentiment. “I just can’t do crudite anymore.”

My client paused. The phone was silent. “Ok”, I caved, “we’ll figure something out. Maybe a small crudite is alright.”

Years ago, I worked as a free-lance chef for a big-time catering company in Los Angeles. We would cater colossal parties for the astronomically rich, where every display was over the top. There were epic platters of food – with sausages and cheese flown in from other countries and cupcake towers the size of New York brownstones.

We would cut vegetables for days, whittling jicama and carrot wedges into little pointy daggers, nipping the tops off radishes, and blanching broccoli and sugar snap peas into the brightest green they could be. It was a thing of beauty for sure, but we had to buy and cut three times more veggies than anyone could ever eat.

Catering is all about making platters look full at all times – which means there has to be tons of coverage. We have to make sure that if someone suddenly goes on a Persian cucumber binge, the display still looks abundant. Hey, nothing says success like excess, right? Well, 75% of the cascading peppers, baby tomatoes, and asparagus would wind up in the garbage. It was heartbreaking.

It’s funny what you think you know. For the last thirty-five years I’ve been cooking chicken scarpariello – or shoemakers’ chicken — for my family. It’s one of my kids’ favorite dishes out of my humble repertoire – cut up pieces of chicken, still on the bone, flash-fried with garlic, white wine and rosemary. The best way to eat this dish is with your fingers, mopping up the sauce with a piece of good Italian bread. It’s heaven on a plate. I first came across the recipe in Alfredo Viazzi’s cookbook. Alfredo had a restaurant – he had a few of them, actually – in Greenwich Village where we lived in 1972. We ate at Trattoria d’Alfredo a couple times a week, often spotting James Beard at a table by himself, packing away Alfredo’s fabulous food.

Imagine my shock when I researched the recipe on the Internet and found that it’s not Italian at all. I typed in “pollo allo scarpariello – ricette” on Google, so that I could pull up the recipes in the original Italian and I came up empty. They don’t have that dish in Italy or, if they do, they call it something else.