Here’s another of my favorite replacements for cereal. Indeed, calling it a replacement is a bit like calling Obama a replacement for Bush (cross fingers). The basic idea is this: a few tissue-paper-thin crumples of fine, dry-aged prosciutto, sitting beside a fresh artichoke half, lightly steamed and cradling a puddle of melted cheese. What could be better?
A few notes: I'm endeavouring not to be preachy on this blog, but I recommend you get the best prosciutto you can lay your hands on for this. Pre-packaged, supermarket prosciutto (even the fancier stuff from Whole Foods) is usually horrid: expensive but unpleasantly slimy, whereas prosciutto should be quite dry to the touch. (I buy my prosciutto from my wonderful butchers, Jason and Dean, of Savenor’s in Cambridge, MA. They’re so nice, and always want to know what I’ve made with their superb meat.) Now, for the cheese, you want something with good melting properties, and a fairly placid flavor. A morning cheese, in other words. It’s easiest to define a morning cheese negatively: for example, I love blue cheese, but I couldn’t possibly deal with it in the mornings. (Your tastebuds may dictate otherwise of course, but bear in mind the morning factor.) Typically, I use mozzarella, fontina, or taleggio (which has a strong aroma, but a mild flavor). As for the artichoke, I tend to prepare it the day before, since there’s nary a morning when I feel like wrestling with one. But they're not that difficult to deal with in the afternoon or evening. I even go the cheat’s route, by microwaving them (actually, I stand by that choice: one of the few things the microwave is good for is steaming vegetables and, uh, thistles). Anyway, here’s what I do: I tear off the tough, outer leaves of the artichoke, until they are making a satisfying snap when I pull at them (another sign that you’re in tender territory is that the top half of the leaves will be yellow rather than green). Then, I cut off the top third of the leaves, trim the stem, and halve the whole thing. I scrape out the choke (the inedible thisly bits) and remove all the purple leaves. (This is where there’ll be some wrestling, and some swearing, at least if you’re as clumsy as I am. But it’s kind of fun, really.) Then I dip the whole thing in a (microwavable) bowl filled with water, to which I’ve added the juice of two lemons (to prevent discoloration), a teaspoon of salt, and a few tablespoons of red wine vinegar (for extra flavor). After this, I microwave the halves in their briny bath for about 6 minutes on high. They’re done when the base of an outer leaf is tender. I leave them to soak overnight in their cooking liquid, and then they’re ready to go the next morning. In the morning, I simply take an artichoke half, and tuck a little lump of cheese into the cavity. I broil it for about five minutes or so, until the cheese bubbles. I grind a bit of black pepper on top, and lay a few strips of the prosciutto on the side. (I typically tear off most of the fat, but only because little Freddy loves it so much. As Jason and Dean demonstrated to me a few weeks ago, the fat from good prosciutto is actually delicious, as long as you rub it between your fingers first, to bring it up to room temperature.) Eating this meal has a sort of ritualistic quality. I take off each artichoke leaf, dip it in the cheese, and scrape it through my teeth to get at the flesh. I pause periodically for bites of prosciutto. Then, after all the leaves are gone, I eat the delicate artichoke heart. Bliss.
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