NewCookingEngland

Shucking oysters at Summer Shack in Cambridge, Mass. OPPOSITE , FROM TOP : Chef Jasper White; White’s classic Oyster Stew; White’s Summer Shack restaurant in Cambridge features a casual, rustic ambience.

Shucking oysters at Summer Shack in Cambridge, Mass. OPPOSITE , FROM TOP : Jasper White; classic Oyster Stew; White’s Summer Shack restaurant in Cambridge features a rustic

by Annie B . Copps

or too long, New England cuisine has suffered an identity crisis—or, more specifically, a split identity. On the one side, the pride of the region: fried clams, lobster rolls, and a perfect bowl of chowder, made all the more delicious by the patina of history. On the other side, a culinary punch line of underseasoned fish and overcooked potatoes. The resourcefulness and frugality of early New Englanders inspired cod cakes and Indian pudding—but compared with the culinary glories of, say, France, which at that time was enjoying the splendors of the Ancien Régime, our food was decidedly plain and practical, the product of a harsher climate than Europe’s or even the American South’s.

“While the New England culinary profile was framed by climate and geography—short growing season, poor soil, proximity of the ocean— the moral culture was dictated by the Puritans and their Boston Brahmin descendants,” says Professor Merry White, a food anthropologist at Boston University. Plain food wasn’t just practical; it was a safeguard against the perils of sensuality. As the country grew and the population began to diversify, early attempts to broaden the local diet were met with resistance. “Italians who immigrated to Boston were ‘processed’ in settlement houses where the cooking classes trained oil and garlic out of their repertory,” White says. “Boiling was the only moral cooking method. One young social worker at the turn of the 20th century wrote in her casebook about a particularly recalcitrant family: ‘Still eating spaghetti; not yet assimilated,’ she wrote, despairingly.”

And so New England cooking mostly retained its rather plain reputation through the end of the “Continental” cuisine era of the 1970s. Meanwhile, the tides were shifting in the South and in California, where chefs began to explore the notion that, just as in Europe, America could produce legitimately praiseworthy regional food at the fine-dining level. In New England, we saw Chinese, Portuguese, and Italian cuisines work their way into the mainstream, but it took another decade before a few young chefs— most notably Jasper White—escaped from the rut of heavy sauces and overly fancified French cuisine. In the early 1980s White began reexamining our regional heritage at restaurants such as Jasper’s and Seasons. He hedged his bets that New England cooking could stand on its own; he made the seasonal ingredients of the Northeast his muse, turning out elegant recipes with a respectful hand. His first cookbook, Jasper White’s Cooking from New England , published in 1989, has become a classic.

With White leading the movement, other chefs followed. The availability and quality of local ingredients began to change as producers partnered with chefs. Mussel, clam, and oyster “farms” soon dotted the coastline. Farmers’ markets sprang up, with their fresh herbs and heirloom tomatoes, and long-shuttered gristmills began grinding whitecap flint corn again.

Thirty years later, Jasper White is still going strong, shifting from fine dining to his large, family-friendly Summer Shack restaurants (in Boston, Cambridge, Dedham, and Connecticut’s Mohegan Sun casino), yet he’s still cooking contemporary renditions of the classics. And now a new crew of Boston-area chefs is approaching our heritage as a source of inspiration rather than something to resist. Not content to merely source their ingredients from local farms, they’re returning to traditional dishes and reworking them in their own ways.

It’s a turning point for New England food, and it’s certainly not limited to the Boston area. But there’s a particular sense of momentum there. In addition to Jasper White, we spoke to four other chefs who have embraced what we’ll call the “new New England cuisine”: Marc Sheehan of Loyal Nine; Jeremy Sewall of Island Creek Oyster Bar and Row 34 (which has a second location in Portsmouth, New Hampshire); Mary Dumont of the newly opened Cultivar; and Will Gilson of Puritan & Company. And we also came away with five easy-to-make recipes that proudly serve up tradition with a twist.

The Recipes

JASPER WHITE’S OYSTER STEW

TOTAL TIME : 45 MINUTES ; HANDS- ON TIME : 40 MINUTES

Here’s a classic that needs no updating. Briny oysters, a bit of onion and celery, and cream make a perfect trio. The recipe is adapted from the The Summer Shack Cookbook: The Complete

Guide to Shore Food by Jasper White (W.W. Norton, 2011). White loves serving this dish with some fino (dry) or amontillado (medium-dry) sherry on the side: “It’s a nice complement to the brininess of the oysters.”

NOTE: If you’re not comfortable shucking oysters yourself, ask your fishmonger to do it. Just be sure to save the liquor (natural juice).

1 pint freshly shucked oysters (12 to 16 oysters, depending on size) in their juices (see “Note,” above)

2 tablespoons unsalted butter

1 small leek, white parts only, finely diced (or 1/2 small yellow onion, finely diced)

2 small ribs celery, finely diced

1 1/2 cups milk

1/2 cup heavy cream

Kosher salt and freshly ground black pepper, to taste

Garnish: finely minced chives and leek (pale-green part, optional)

Strain the oysters from their liquid; place each one in a separate container and refrigerate.

In a 4- to 5-quart heavy-bottomed pot over medium-high heat, melt the butter until it begins to foam. Add the leek and celery and cook, stirring often, until the vegetables are thoroughly softened, but not browned, 8 to 10 minutes. Reduce heat to medium; stir in the milk, cream, and oyster liquid and cook until hot; add the oysters and poach until they begin to curl at the edges, about 2 minutes. Season with salt and pepper to taste. Remove from the heat and let the flavors meld for a few minutes before serving.

Reheat the stew if necessary, but don’t boil it. Divide among bowls and sprinkle with chives and leek. Serve with sherry (optional). Yield: 4 to 6 servings

Marc Sheehan

Loyal Nine

In a November 2015 review of Loyal Nine in Boston magazine, food writer Corby Kummer pondered the phenomenon of “Boston’s braver chefs” who are in the “process of reinventing New England’s culinary vernacular.” Kummer was somewhat skeptical, while supporting the idea in theory. “Whether [Sheehan] can summon food that’s tasty, rather than just an academic exercise,” he wrote, “is the real question.” And it’s true that Sheehan and his earnest team are digging deep into the history of early America, serving thoughtfully prepared and thoroughly researched food that takes inspiration specifically from Colonial coastal Massa- chusetts. It’s as didactic as it sounds, but the fried soldier beans, served as a bar snack, are hard—no, impossible —to stop eating, as are the whole roasts, whether rack of pork or bluefish, served family-style, in the colonial style.

“As a kid,” Sheehan confesses, “I was a picky eater.” But he couldn’t resist the sweet smell of molasses, salt, pork, and onion that wafted through his childhood home. The intoxicating aroma came from his dad’s baked beans, made from scratch—old-school: “My dad would soak the beans on Friday, bake them on Saturday, and on Sunday they’d get served with dinner. No one could wait for Sunday for a taste—the aroma was everywhere in the house—so on Saturday, he’d pull the onions out of the pot and we’d eat them on toasted rye bread.” Slow-cooked onions stolen from classic New England baked beans, slow-cooked in a traditional beanpot: A recipe like that doesn’t need any updating.

Beanpot Onions

TOTAL TIME : 3 HOURS 30 MINUTES ; HANDS- ON TIME : 30 MINUTES

“I didn’t love beans when I was young, but this dish gave me all sorts of great flavors in one fell swoop,” Marc Sheehan says. In his kitchen, Sheehan cures pork jowl and uses it instead of salt pork in this dish; however, store-bought salt pork works well. He also makes a rich, flavorful broth out of roasted pork bones, but homemade chicken stock (or store-bought reduced-sodium stock) is a fine substitute. These onions are terrific next to, or on top of, roasted beef or lamb— or enjoy them the way Sheehan did as a kid, on a slice of rye bread.

1/4 pound salt pork, rinsed of excess surface salt and patted dry

1 1/4 pounds creamer or pearl onions, peeled

1–2 teaspoons kosher salt

1 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper, plus more to taste

1/4 cup firmly packed light-brown sugar

2 tablespoons molasses

1 teaspoon dry mustard powder

3–4 cups warm pork or chicken stock

1 tablespoon sherry vinegar

Garnishes: freshly grated horseradish and chopped chives

Preheat your oven to 300° and set a rack to the middle position.

Cut the salt pork into 1-inch squares; then add half to a medium-size Dutch oven over medium heat. Cook until the fat begins to render but doesn’t brown, about 5 minutes. Increase the heat to high, add the onions, and sear on one side until golden brown, another 5 minutes; season with 1 teaspoon salt and the pepper. Add the brown sugar, molasses, and mustard with enough warm stock to cover (start with 3 cups and work up as needed). Add the remaining salt pork. Pour the contents into a beanpot (or keep it in the Dutch oven); cover and bake 2 hours.

THIS PAGE , FROM TOP : Baked Clams with Apple & Bacon; the dining room at Island Creek Oyster Bar in Boston features a mural by mixed-media artist Stephen Sheffield; chef Jeremy Sewall shucking clams.

OPPOSITE , FROM TOP : Chef Mary Dumont of the newly opened Cultivar in Boston; Dumont’s tender Cider-Braised Yankee Pot Roast.

NEXT SPREAD, FROM TOP : Chef Will Gilson of Puritan & Company in Cambridge’s Inman Square neighborhood; Indian Pudding Panna Cotta with Maple Whipped Cream.

Use a slotted spoon to transfer the onions from the pot to a serving bowl. Reduce the liquid over medium-high heat until thickened. Add the vinegar, and season to taste with additional salt and pepper as needed. Pour the sauce over the onions and garnish with horseradish and chives.

Yield: about 6 servings

Mary Dumont Cultivar

And now we tackle pot roast, that mainstay of the Yankee Sunday dinner. It has certainly never lost popularity— it’s comfort itself. But the stuff of fine dining? Chef Mary Dumont takes her cue from the original, but bathes a chuck roast in equal parts broth and apple cider for a hint of sweetness and acidity to balance out the richness of the meat. And rather than leave the vegetables in the liquid to cook for hours, she adds them toward the end of the braise, preserving their texture and individual flavors.

The entire menu of her new restaurant in Boston’s Ames Hotel expresses a love of New England, particularly in the fall. “I grew up in Hampton Falls, New Hampshire,” Dumont says. “It was all apple orchards and farms—literally and figuratively ‘apple county.’ It was Ladies’ Auxiliaries, hayrides, hot apple cider, cold apple cider, hard apple cider, apple-cider doughnuts—apple-cider everything.”

CIDER-BRAISED YANKEE POT ROAST

HOURS 30 MINUTES ; HANDS- ON TIME : 30 MINUTES

“I grew up in a big family,” Mary Dumont says, “and my mom was really good at making one-pot meals.” The use of apple cider and the technique of keeping the vegetables crisp-tender, rather than overcooked, separates this from other braises.

5 pounds prime chuck roast, trimmed of excess fat

2 tablespoons kosher salt

1 tablespoon freshly ground black pepper

2 tablespoons olive oil

2 cups pearl or creamer onions, peeled and halved crosswise

3 carrots, peeled and cut into 2-inch batons

3 parsnips, peeled and cut into 2-inch batons

8 red bliss potatoes, washed and quartered

1/

4 cup tomato paste

3 cups apple cider

3 cups beef stock

2 sprigs fresh rosemary

2 fresh sage leaves

Garnishes: shaved radish, nasturtium leaves and flowers or other edible flowers, or fresh herbs (optional)

Preheat your oven to 350° and set a rack to the middle position.

Pat the meat dry with paper towels. Season all sides liberally with salt and pepper.

Add the oil to a large (5- to 7-quart) Dutch oven and set it over medium-high heat. Add the meat and brown on all sides, about 4 minutes per side. Remove to a plate. Add the onions and cook, stirring occasionally, until golden-brown and fragrant, about 10 minutes. Add the carrots, parsnips, potatoes, and tomato paste, and cook 10 minutes.

Add the cider and stock to the vegetables, and scrape up any browned bits on the bottom of the pot. Using a slotted spoon, remove the vegetables from the pot and set aside. Place the roast back in the pot and bring the liquid to a simmer. Cover and transfer to the oven for 2 hours.

Remove the pot from the oven and nestle the vegetables around the meat with the herbs. Return the pot to the oven for 30 minutes or until the vegetables are fork-tender.

Remove the roast and vegetables from the braising liquid and cover to keep warm. Place the pot on the stove and bring the liquid to a boil, reducing it to your desired thickness, 8 to 12 minutes. To serve, slice the meat against the grain and arrange on a plate. Divide up the vegetables and spoon the sauce over all. Garnish with fresh herbs or edible flowers as desired. Yield: 6 to 8 servings

Jeremy Sewall

Childhood memories also inspire Jeremy Sewall’s food. In fact, the history of this region is in his DNA. His ancestors go back centuries—chances are there’s a Sewall Road or a Sewall Bridge or a Sewall Hill near you, if you live in Massachusetts or Maine.

Sewall spent his childhood summers in southern Maine, where his uncle worked as a lobsterman. “What New England produces is amazing,” he says. “The farming, the fishing, the cheesemaking, and the artisanal products that are being made here … Just the last 10 years have shown such a dramatic increase in the quality of what’s available.

“The cooking part is simple,” he laughs. And with more access to quality ingredients, there’s more room for creativity—all of which is evident in his book The New England Kitchen (Rizzoli, 2014).

Take baked clams, long a regional staple, particularly the giant stuffed quahogs that Rhode Island is known for. We’ve all had renditions in which the clams are tough from overcooking and overpowered by bread. They might still taste good at a clam shack by the sea, but in Sewall’s hands, the clams aren’t hidden; they’re given texture with minced apple, which, as with Dumont’s pot roast, brightens their flavor. Same historic ingredients, different era.

BAKED CLAMS WITH APPLE & BACON

TOTAL TIME : 2 HOURS 30 MINUTES ; HANDS- ON TIME : 2 HOURS

Shucking clams takes some finesse—there’s no shame in asking your fishmonger to do it for you.

12 cherrystone clams

1/2 cup finely diced bacon

2 tablespoons minced leek (from 1 small leek), white part only

1 tablespoon ground paprika

1 medium-size apple, peeled and diced small

1 tablespoon chopped fresh tarragon

1/2 cup plus 1/4 cup Panko breadcrumbs

1 teaspoon fresh lemon zest

1 tablespoon lemon juice

Kosher salt and freshly ground black pepper, to taste

To serve: 2 cups kosher salt and 2 tablespoons water

Shuck the clams, reserving the meat and one half of each shell. Thoroughly clean the reserved shell and set aside. Rinse the clams to remove any sand and chop finely. Keep cold until ready to use.

Preheat your oven to 400° and set a rack to the upperthird position.

In a medium-size skillet over medium-high heat, sauté the bacon until browned. Using a slotted spoon, remove the bacon to a plate lined with a paper towel. Discard all but 1 tablespoon of the rendered fat and reduce heat to medium. Add the leek, paprika, and apple to the pan and cook 2 minutes, stirring often, being careful not to burn. Remove from the heat and fold in the clams, tarragon, ½ cup of the breadcrumbs, lemon zest, and juice; season to taste with salt and pepper.

In a medium-size bowl, combine 2 cups of salt with 2 tablespoons of water to form a stiff paste. On a rimmed baking sheet, use half of the salt paste to create two 1-inchhigh “strips” to hold the clams in place as they cook.

Fill each shell loosely with the clam mixture. Sprinkle the remaining ¼ cup of breadcrumbs evenly over the clams, nestle them into the salt strips, and bake until they’re just beginning to sizzle, 8 to 10 minutes. Raise your oven’s temperature to broil and cook an additional minute or until evenly browned.

On a serving platter, use the remaining salt paste to prepare a second set of mounds and nestle the cooked clams on top. Serve warm. Yield: 12 pieces

WILL GILSON PURITAN + COMPANY

Just down the street from Loyal Nine, the dining room at Puritan & Company has a modern/vintage vibe that telegraphs a certain comfort with the past: a mason-jar chandelier; barnboard wall panels; an early-20thcentury Glenwood stove, which serves as the host stand. Chef Will Gilson says that it hasn’t always been easy to sing the praises of regional cooking among his peers.

“I feel as though I’ve spent so much time defending New England food,” he says. “It was exhausting. Now I just cook what makes sense to me.”

Gilson’s menu can span several continents for inspiration but always circles back to his home turf.

And how could it be otherwise?

Gilson grew up on the grounds of his parents’ Herb Lyceum, a farm and education center, in Groton, Massachusetts, where he was exposed to the classics and learned to respect the rhythm of the seasons. He went to culinary school and worked his way through several restaurants in Boston before opening Puritan at the age of 28.

He understands all too well that some original recipes, no matter how respectfully prepared, don’t always translate to a modern audience (eel-and-oyster pie, anyone?).

For Gilson, it’s about rethinking an abundant local ingredient such as bluefish, labeled “too fishy” by many, and working that strong flavor to his advantage, coaxing it into a silky pâté that will erase memories of every badly broiled dinner. And his lamb belly, slow-cooked with Moxie (yes, the soda from Maine) until it forms a rich glaze, is sublime in flavor—a wink and a nod to the classics. Finally, practical, cozy Indian pudding assumes a more-refined air when prepared as a panna cotta.

Indian Pudding

PANNA COTTA WITH MAPLE WHIPPED CREAM

TOTAL TIME : 1 HOUR 30 MINUTES ;

HANDS- ON TIME : 30 MINUTES

Will Gilson concedes that he finds most recipes for Indian pudding “cloying.”

Here he honors his love for cornmeal and molasses with a dessert that’s sweet and rich, but with a unique texture.

FOR THE PUDDING:

2 1/2 tablespoons (about 2 2/3 packages) powdered gelatin

1 cup cold water

3 cups milk

2 tablespoons unsalted butter, plus more for ramekins

1 1/2 cups cornmeal

2 tablespoons molasses

1/3 cup maple syrup

1/4 teaspoon table salt

1/4 teaspoon ground cinnamon

1 large egg, beaten Garnish: freshly grated nutmeg and cornmeal cookies (optional)

FOR THE WHIPPED CREAM:

1 cup heavy or whipping cream

1 tablespoon maple syrup

Grease six 8-ounce ramekins with butter and set aside.

In a small bowl, pour the powdered gelatin over 1 cup of water and let it soften. Set aside.

In a 4- to 5-quart saucepan over high heat, bring the milk and 2 tablespoons of butter to a simmer. Whisk in the cornmeal and reduce the heat to low; simmer, whisking continuously, until the mixture begins to thicken, about 5 minutes. Remove from the heat and whisk in the molasses, maple syrup, salt, cinnamon, egg, and prepared gelatin. Pour into the prepared ramekins and refrigerate until set, at least 1 hour and up to overnight.

Just before serving, beat the heavy cream with the maple syrup until soft peaks form. Top the pudding with whipped cream, garnish with a pinch of nutmeg (at the restaurant, pastry chef Marissa Rossi also adds cornmeal cookies), and serve. Yield: 6 servings