How to Pan-Roast Garlic by the Extraordinary R.F. Swearinger

Pan-Roasted Garlic: Or, How to Roast Garlic When You Only Need a Clove or Two.

Pan-Roasted Garlic: Or, How to Roast Garlic When You Only Need a Clove or Two. Photo by the extraordinary Richard Swearinger.

In this post, my friend and co-author Richard Swearinger, who has worked as a food editor for 20-plus years, shows us the method for roasting garlic on the stove-top, rather than in the oven. It’s a great method when you don’t have a lot of time–or don’t need an entire bulb of garlic.

A word about Richard: He’s a great photographer and a killer food editor. When it comes to developing recipes, he has one of the best palates I’ve ever come across. I’ve loved working with him, and I’m encouraging him to write his own blog. He’s always coming up with better, faster, and infinitely more tasty ways to do things—he could be a one-man America’s Test Kitchen.

Here’s his method for pan-roasting garlic:

“When you need just a few cloves of roasted garlic, the best method is on top of your stove. It has the same caramelly oven-roasted garlic flavor, but it’s a bit quicker. Here’s how to pan-roast garlic:
Preheat a pan over medium heat (if your stove runs hot, set it on medium low). Separate the required number of cloves from the bulb. Place the unpeeled cloves your preheated pan, add a glug of olive oil, and cook for about 10 minutes, turning so both sides of the garlic gets cooked. Once the  start to get toasty, take the pan off the fire, cover, and let the clovers finish cooking in the leftover heat till they’re soft enough to be easily pierced with a fork. To use, remove from pan, allow to cool and remove the skins.”

Richard adds:

“I hadn’t used this method for a while but pulled it out when making the amazing Italian Wedding Farro Salad from Salad Samurai: 100 Cutting-Edge, Ultra-Hearty, Easy-to-Make Salads You Don’t Have to Be Vegan to Love by Terry Hope Romero. Her book is a treasure trove, every recipe I’ve tried is a gem; it’s recommended for carnivores and vegetarians alike.”


PPS: Here’s a photo of Richard and me in 2012, the first time we got together at a coffee shop to talk about our e-book projects. He think he looks goofy. I think he looks like Richard—a cool and sophisticated dude with a great sense of humor.


Richard Swearinger and me, launching our ebooks career at a local coffeehouse in 2012.

Richard Swearinger and me, launching our ebooks career at a local coffeehouse in 2012.

PPS: Here’s an Amazon Affiliate link to the book Richard is talking about, above. Richard told me that he and his wife, Maria Duryee, have been cooking out of it almost exclusively for a few weeks. That’s a high praise.

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Help! Send Me a Photo of My Any-Night Baked Rice...and You'll Be Rewarded

Great recipe. Horrible photo. Please help!

Great recipe. Horrible photo. Please help!

Readers of this blog have probably noted that photography is not my strong suit. In fact, when working as a food editor, the thing I liked least was overseeing food photo shoots.

In the dark and airless basement photo studio, the food stylists, prop stylists, art directors, and photographers could spend HOURS deciding whether a strand of spaghetti needed to be over here or over there on a plate. Meanwhile, I’d be pulling my hair out, thinking, “IT’S FINE! JUST SHOOT THE DAMNED THING AND LET ME GET BACK TO WRITING.”

Of course, great food photography takes time and patience. Yet while I’ll willingly focus a couple of hours to get a paragraph polished to perfection, I just can’t stay with one photograph that long. And frankly, it probably shows on this blog. I’m not saying my photos are out-and-out awful, but let’s face it: They’re not my strong suit.

Which is why I often have my good friend Richard Swearinger take photos for me. He was the senior food editor at Better Homes and Gardens Magazine, and he’s also a great photographer. And he does have patience for the craft.

But today, I thought I’d give Richard some time off and ask you, dear readers, for some help.

No. I did not take this photograph. Richard Swearinger did.

No. I did not take this photograph. Richard Swearinger did.

It’s about my Any-Night Baked Rice. This recipe is handily one of the most popular recipes on my blog. People often write and tell me they love it.

And yet, my photo of it just doesn’t do it justice, does it?  Right? It’s ugly.

So, here’s your chance to help me out. Make this recipe (I guarantee you’ll like it!). Then, shoot a photo of it, either in the pan, or on a plate with a side dish—or any way you can make it look as luscious and good as it is.

What’s in it for you?

If I choose your photo to replace the ugly photo I took, I’ll send you a signed copy of the Bonne Femme Cookbook. What? You already own a copy of my book? Imagine what a nice gift the signed book—personalized as you request—would make for Christmas for your favorite cook!

And if your recipe isn’t chosen? You can still win! For the first 10 people who send me their photo, I’ll send you a free copy of my e-book, The French Pasta Cookbook: 25 délicieuse recipes from bistros, cafés, and home kitchens.

And if you aren’t among the first 10 people? Let me tell you: I think you still win. Just by trying this rice, you’re going to discover a recipe you’ll serve again and again. It really is the perfect side dish.

PS: Of course, if you’re a food blogger—or any kind of blogger–I’ll link back to your blog.

All you have to do:

1. Make the rice (recipe below).

2. Snap a photo of it. Really–even if you don’t think you’re a great photographer, I bet you can do better–immensely better!–than the photo I took above. If you don’t have a fancy camera, use your I-Pad, I-Phone…..whatever!

3. Upload the photo to this post on my Facebook page. (Of course, I’d be grateful if you “liked” my facebook page, too, but that’s not required to be chosen).

ENTRY DEADLINE: NOVEMBER 15, 2014. So get cooking!

That’s it. Good luck. And THANK YOU.

Any-Night Baked Rice

From The Bonne Femme Cookbook: Simple, Splendid Food That French Women Cook Every Day.

Make this recipe once, and I’d be willing to bet you will make it again and again for the rest of your life. It is the perfect way to make a moist (but never sticky), buttery (but not cloying), flavorful (but goes-with-anything) rice. It’s infinitely easier than risotto, and much, much better than boiled rice.

I adapted this from a recipe by Pierre Franey, the French-born chef who wrote the “60-Minute Gourmet” column in the New York Times in the 1970s and ’80s. I’ve probably made it more than a thousand times in my life. The basic ingredients are butter, onions, garlic, rice, chicken stock, and thyme. You can vary the seasonings and ingredients, just as Franey did: He’d toss in apple and curry for a Riz à l’Indienne, turmeric for Riz à Tumerique, pimiento or roasted red pepper for Riz aux Piments,Parmesan (after the rice is cooked) for Riz à Parmesan, and pine nuts (after cooking) for Riz avec Pignolats. You get the idea—though the basic recipe is exquisite in itself.

Makes 4 to 6 servings

1            tablespoon unsalted butter
1/4        cup finely chopped onion
1            garlic clove, minced
1            cup long-grain rice
1/4        teaspoon dried thyme, crushed
1 1/2     cups low-sodium chicken broth
1            bay leaf

Preheat oven to 425°F. Melt the butter in a medium flameproof, ovenproof pot with a heavy lid (I use the Le Creuset Signature Enameled Cast-Iron 2-Quart Round French (Dutch) Oven) over medium heat. Add the onion and cook until tender but not brown, about 4 to 5 minutes. Add garlic and cook, stirring, until fragrant, about 30 seconds. Add the rice and thyme; cook and stir about 1 minute more (grains should start to cook a bit but not brown, and should glisten with butter). Add the chicken stock and then the bay leaf; stir to break up any clumps of rice. Bring to a boil.

Cover the casserole tightly and slide it into the oven. Bake the rice for 15 minutes. Remove from oven; let stand, covered, for 5 minutes. Serve immediately or let stand, covered, in a warm place (such as on an unheated back burner) for up to 20 minutes more. Remove bay leaf and stir with a fork before serving.

Enjoy. And don’t forget to enter your photo.


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Great Giveaway Alert: "Mastering the Art of French Eating"

Now in Paperback! And I'm giving a copy away.

Now in Paperback! And I’m giving a copy away.

Have you read Ann Mah’s “Mastering the Art of French Eating”? If not, then it’s high time!: The book is soon to be released in paperback. Better yet–you could win this book. I will be giving away a hot-off-the-press paperback copy of the book on Tuesday, October 28, which is the official release date of the paperback edition. 

To enter the giveaway, all you need do is “like” this post (see that little “like” button up there on the left? Just click on it!). Then, post a comment below, telling me:

1. That you’ve “liked” this post (otherwise, I won’t know!).
2. Which recipe you’d like to make from the book (see below).

On October 28, I will randomly choose a winner from among the comments.

In case you’re not familiar with this book, here are a few excerpts from my review that originally appeared on the website:

Author Ann Mah and her husband, Calvin, get oh-so close to living the dream: His career as a diplomat lands them a 3-year stint in Paris. Hardly have they unpacked, however, when the couple get the call: Calvin is assigned a one-year post in Iraq; spouses are not to follow. With few friends and not a whole lot to do, Mah, a novelist and food and travel writer, finds herself alone in the city she had dreamed of savoring à deux.

Soon, the weight of solitude bears down on Mah. To combat her sadness, Mah gives herself an assignment: She’ll crisscross France, seeking out the stories behind the country’s most famous regional dishes, from choucroute in the northeast to cassoulet in the Southwest; from crêpes in Brittany to soup au pistou in Provence.

Ann Mah, author of Mastering the Art of French Eating

Ann Mah, author of Mastering the Art of French Eating

We travel alongside Mah as she meets chefs, farmers, and restaurateurs, picking up history, insights, and cooking tips along the way. She uncovers nuggets that even veteran American Francophiles may not know (such as, for example, that the Aveyronnais are responsible for the proliferation of the Parisian cafés).  

You’ll love the fresh, vivid ways in which she describes touchstones of our Francophilia. When a waiter in Burgundy rattles off the region’s famed wines that are served by the glass, “It felt like a celebrity sighting.” Brittany’s cooks recite crêpe recipes from memory, “like a favorite poem or prayer,” while their buckwheat crêpes resemble “dark, shining lace…against clean white porcelain.” Again and again Mah reminds us why we love France, from “surprise glimpses of Notre Dame caught from the bus,” to “the small cups of coffee garnished with a paper-wrapped sugar cube” at the café.

Each chapter revolves around a signature dish from a specific region. Mah tells history and lore about the recipe, as well as her own story of how she cajoled the recipe from those who held its secrets. And of course, she gives the recipes themselves:

• Steak Frites from Paris
• Andouillette from Troyes
• Crêpes from Brittany
• Salade Lyonnaise from Lyon
• Soup au Pistou from Provence
• Cassoulet from Toulouse, Castelnaudary, Carcassonne
• Choucroute Garnie from Alsace
• Fondue from Savoie and the Haut-Savoie
• Boeuf Bourguignon from you-know-where
• Aligot from the Aveyron

Which recipe intrigues you most? Post below to enter in my drawing. And thanks!

Disclosure: I received a free copy of this book from the publisher; however, I was not obligated to cover it in any way.

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