Grilled Ham Turnovers; Vatrushki

     I started my Wednesday by making the crust for the Vatrushki.  I read through the ingredient list and the directions.  It sounded like it was supposed to be similar to a pie crust.  I found it interesting that the directions said to have softened butter.  It seemed strange, but that is what it said to have, so I softened the butter.  I mixed the dry ingredients and then added the wet stuff and mixed that.  I did not use a wooden spoon, I used a fork.  It seemed to work pretty well, but I ended up using my hands, once it was combined thoroughly, to make it "smooth".  It was a very sticky dough. 

     While that was chilling in the refrigerator, I started the filling.  I put the cottage cheese in the Vitamix instead of monkeying around with it, like the recipe suggested.  It worked beautifully, as I knew it would.

  It was so pretty in the bottom of my Vitamix, I almost didn't want to add the other ingredients, but, of course I did and re-blended.  It became really thin.  I was very skeptical that this milky substance would set up.  Unfortunately, my Vitamix bowl wouldn't fit upright in either of my refrigerators, so I poured the goo into a different container and put it in the refrigerator.   

     I figured I would be able to roll out the crust a day early and put them into tartlette pans and leave them in the refrigerator until I was ready to bake them on Thursday.  I rolled out the dough - it was still very sticky, even after an hour in the fridge.  I rolled it out as thinly as I could and then looked for something to cut circles out of the dough.  I started with the biscuit cutters that Jeff had gotten from Pam for his birthday or Christmas or something, but they were smaller than the tartlette pans, so that wasn't going to do.  My regular drinking glasses weren't big enough around either.  I floundered around for a few minutes, thinking I was going to have to free-hand them with a knife, when I looked up.  Above my sink is a glass rack that holds martini glasses and wine glasses.  The martini glasses were the perfect size.

     It turned out, I actually got 15 circles out of the dough.  I had 12 tartlette pans...  The recipe said to free-form the crusts, but I thought that with as runny as the goo was, I wanted something more substantial.  And, besides, I had received the tartlette pans for my birthday and wanted to use them.  I free-formed the extra 3 crusts.  I wrapped them up for their 24 hour chilling.  The ones in the tartlette pans, I stacked together, and wrapped the tower in saran wrap and put those in the fridge, too.
   I grabbed a saved grilling crust from the freezer for the turnover and transferred it to the refrigerator.  I found a premade tomato sauce (not the slow-simmered sauce that the recipe called for) in the freezer while I was in there and opted to use that instead of making a whole new batch of tomato sauce from scratch.  I placed that on the shelf next to the dough and called it a night.
  
     Pam was our only guest again on Thursday.  She showed up just as I was about to roll out the crust.  I stepped back and let her do that.  She is very good at it and made an almost perfect circle of dough.

     While she did that, I removed the tartlette crusts from the fridge and tried to separate my tower of tartlettes.  Unfortunately, the crusts had adhered to the bottoms of the pan that was inside it.  In other words, they were all stuck together, and when I tried to separate them, the crust stayed on the bottom of the nested pan instead of the inside of its rightful pan.  When I tried to peel it off the bottom of the nested pan, the crust ripped off in pieces.  After I mutilated two crusts, Pam had finished rolling out the turnover crust and volunteered to take over my task.  I happily gave it over to her.  Once she had those all separated, the only thing left to do before putting them in the oven was to pour the premade goo into each tartlette crust.

     I started working on the Grilled Ham Turnover.  My first task was to chop the ham.  For one turnover, the recipe called for 3 cups.  I thought that was excessive.  I actually only used about 2 cups.

     I layered the cheese over the crust and spread the sauce and ham mixture over one half.  I lamented to Pam that it seemed counter-productive to have placed the cheese over the entire crust, when you are then going to fold one half over the other.  She explained that the recipe author was trying to make sure that the cheese was on both sides of the ham.  I argued that the cheese was going to spill down into a pile in the center when the crust is folded.  She pointed out the the recipe called for sliced mozzarella, and I had used shredded, and the cheese would probably mostly stay put, if it had been slices.

     I had decided that I wasn't going to grill this outside.  Summer was definitely over, and whoever designed my house was an idiot.  It is a split-level.  If I want to go out my back door, to where my grill is, I have to go downstairs.  Once I am outside, I have to go upstairs to get to my lawn and my grill.  Hauling a bunch of ingredients out that way and then back in again is a pain in the you-know-what.  And, I don't get many volunteers to keep me company out there when it is cold.  Yes, I am sure someone would go if I would ask, but I would feel bad for asking.

     So, in the spirit of the recipe being grilled, I decided we were going to grill it indoors on my Jen-Aire grill.  It isn't ideal, because you cannot close the lid.  It is an open grill built into my counter next to the stove.  There is also no smoky charcoal flavor imparted on the food when it is grilled here.  It is also devoid of the character building grit that the outdoor grill contributes to the food.
     I had turned on the grill to warm it up for a bit before putting the "supposedly" sealed turnover on the grates.  While it was warming, we started chit-chatting and I had forgotten that it was on. 

     Jeff reminded me of that fact, and I went to check it.  It was pretty hot.  I dipped a paper towel in some olive oil, put it in the grip of my tongs and oiled the grate before putting the turnover on.
    The edges that I  had pinched together immediately opened once the turnover hit the hot surface of the grill.  It started to leak into the burners.  Pam grabbed the tongs and tried to pinch it together again and was mostly successful.
     I swear it was only a couple of minutes of catching up with Pam and her week, when I smelled something burning. She said, "oh, it's probably the juices that leaked out and hit the burners".  I grabbed a spatula and peaked under my turnover - it wasn't the juices....   I turned down the heating elements, but I think it was just too late.  I think the original heat-up was too much.  The second side took only another couple of minutes to char a little, too, but I caught it before it looked as charred as the first side.

     At about this time, I decided to check on the tartlettes.  Strangely, only one tartlette, one in the middle (or slightly right of center), browned.  I asked Pam to consult with me on whether or not she thought that they were done.  I had never had these before; there was no indication from the recipe on what they should look like; and there were no other clues in the recipe other than the straight 20 minute timing.  Well, the 20 minutes were up, we jiggled the tray to see if they had "set", and they appeared to have, so we took them out.

     We really thought that they would stick to the tiny little pans, especially since I had smashed the pans (and therefore the dough) together, but Pam flipped the first one over, and voila!  It slipped right out.  Harrah for the new non-stick tartlette pans!
     We started in on the tartlettes first.  They had potential.  The texture of the filling was lovely, smooth and cheesecake-like.  However, the crust was sort of doughy.  We agreed that they should probably have been baked some before pouring the cheese mixture into them.  The flavor of the filling was a little on the bland side.  A couple of shots of my home-made hot-pepper-salt did wonders for it.  Jeff suggested that it would be a good breakfast item, and even spreading some preserves over the top of it for breakfast would be good.  Pam said they were good, and she liked them just as they were (as she was sprinkling on some pepper-salt).
     The turnover was wonderful despite the burnt areas.  The filling really hadn't had quite enough time to get thoroughly cooked, but it was still wonderful.  The salty sweet ham with the sharp provolone and the tomato sauce was tasty.  It was truly a comfort food.  It would have been great with a bowl of cream of wild rice soup (ah, the Minnesota in me comes out!   Ya, you betcha!).

Grilled Focaccia Pie; Okono Mi-Yaki

     The recipe for the Grilled Focaccia Pie called for a pre-made focaccia.  Usually, I would take the easy way out, if it is offered, but I knew that I had a dough in my freezer labeled focaccia.  I took it out of the freezer on Tuesday, so I could make the loaf on Wednesday.  I had put it in the refrigerator to thaw slowly overnight, and before I went to work on Wednesday, I placed it on the counter to come up to room temperature.

     I had second thoughts about this whole plan when I came home from work on Wednesday, and the dough was still roughly the same shape and size as when I took it out of the freezer on Tuesday.  I didn't see a date on the bag.  I cannot remember when I made this dough.  Did I forget the yeast?  It's possible.  I didn't see any comments on previous pizzas that the foccacia dough didn't do it's thing.  As a matter of fact, I didn't see a foccacia dough pizza for a couple of years worth of notes. 

     I wasn't sure if there was something wrong with the dough or if my house had just been too cold during the day.  We hadn't turned the heat on and our windows had been open.  When I came home from work, the temperature was barely 60 degrees.  I was sure that was the problem.

     Apparently, that wasn't necessarily the problem.  The cooked crust was thin and dense and now crisp, since it was slathered with olive oil prior to baking.  I thought of heading for the grocery store for a premade focaccia at the eleventh hour, but my distaste for leaving my house once I have returned from work won out.  I was sure it would be fine once we put toppings on it.

     I still had some peppers from my garden.  Those days (and peppers) are numbered, and I used some beautiful red bells to roast for the foccacia toppings.  I cut them in half and laid them on tin foil with the skin sides up.  I had preheated the broiler and put them in it for about 4 minutes.  Once the skins were blackened, I transferred them into a heavy duty zip top bag to steam for a while.

     I next checked out the Okono Mi-Yaki recipe.  For the cabbage, I bought a bag of undressed cole slaw, which is basically just shredded cabbage with a couple of carrots thrown in.  It's a rip off, really, because you can buy a massive amount of cabbage for the price of this little bag of shreds, but some days, you just don't feel like dealing with it, and who needs a massive amount of cabbage, anyway?

     I have never grated an onion before that I can recall, and I used my larger Microplane grater.  The holes on this grater are rather small (and very sharp - I learned the hard way to keep knuckles and fingertips away), and running the onion over it produced a kind of slurry.  I used the same tool for the carrots and got the same result, only it was orange.   I poured the half and half in over it and closed up the container and put it in the refrigerator for the night.

     Pam got here before Jeff on Thursday, and I immediately put her on the roasted-pepper-peeling duty.  She was very efficient at it.  I blinked and they were peeled.  She cut them into thin strips, chopped a tomato, and cut up a green onion, all for our Japanese pancakes  - or mini pizzas.  Well, actually, the roasted peppers were for our focaccia, but everything else was for the pancakes.

     Pam and I had started working on some soy-bean hummus I had made earlier in the week as a sort of aperitif.  Jeff came home and tried it, even though he wouldn't try it when I had offered it to him a couple of days ago.  He said he liked it, but didn't eat much of it.   It is hard to say whether that has more to do with the hummus itself or the vehicles, i.e. the crackers, that wold have carried it to his mouth.  He is not a fan of Triscuits.  He opted instead for his own snack - dirty martini.

     Meanwhile, I sauteed the mushrooms briefly (I don't think it was for four minutes, but the time might have gone by unnoticed, because Pam and I were engaged in delightful conversation).

     She was still chopping when I was done with that, so I went to the fridge for the pesto sauce I had made a while ago.  I was under the impression that since pesto had so much olive oil in it, it was impervious to spoilage.  When I opened my Tupperware container of pesto, I realized I was clearly wrong.  There was a great fuzz over the most of the contents of the container.  I searched my cupboards for any premade pesto that may have been hidden somewhere behind a can of peas or a jar of applesauce, but I was unsuccessful in that mission.  I looked at my poor, suffering basil plant that Pam's friend Mary had given me.  Could I get enough basil out of it to produce enough "sauce" to cover my pathetic-looking "focaccia"?  I cut as many leaves off of the cute little plant that I felt it could give up without killing it.  I'm never sure how much I can cut before it will die.  I did the best I could.  Pesto takes a LOT of basil.  I took what I felt comfortable cutting off of my plant. 

     I added some greens from the scallions that didn't get chopped up for our Japanese pancakes.  I threw the basil and scallion greens in my little Oscar (small food processor) with some prechopped garlic and some Parmesan cheese.  Pam had brought pine nuts, so I added some of those, some olive oil (of course), and a little hot pepper flake.  All of it went in the mini-food processor.  It made a lovely, bright green paste, which I spread over the thin, crusty thing I had baked the day prior.

   

     We placed the thin strips of roasted peppers artistically (haha) over the pesto and sprinkled the pine nuts that Pammy so generously donated to the cause.

     After the pine nuts, we scattered shreds of Parmesan over the top of the entire pie and sent it to the oven.

     Once we had the "focaccia" assembled, we concentrated our efforts on the "pancakes".  I mixed the filling ingredients together.  I had my pan searing hot and threw in a handful of "filling" as the recipe referred to them. I think that my pan was too hot, or maybe we were too slow, or something, but the filling seemed to be burning and the batter wasn't getting cooked.  We left each of the pancakes on the pan a little bit longer than I thought that the fillings could stand, and the veggies turned out a little black.  We went with it anyway. Starting over didn't seem to be an option, so we kept with it.   We finished up the batches, but by the time we got to the end of the batter for the pancakes, we had run out of the filling.  We pressed on anyway.  We thought that maybe the batter of the pancakes would have merit all on their own, and the filling was just an added bonus.

     When we sat down for dinner, the three of us, we realized that my assumption about the stand-alone batter was apparently misinformed.  Jeff took the top pancake, which contained very few toppings, and declared it "OK", which in my opinion, is Minnesota-speak for: "I wouldn't spit it out, but I really wouldn't request it, either."  I strongly encouraged him to try another pancake to form an informed opinion, which he did, but I still received a milk-toast answer.  I suspect he fears his sustenance would cease to continue if he offended the source.  I believe this is a self-destructive stance, because I cannot improve the menu if I have no idea there is something wrong with it.

     Pam offered relatively the same opinion of the pancake.  I thought it was okay, as well, but it didn't wow me as an entree, and I was relatively confident that I would not make this again, but I still made my notes in my recipe book.  For instance, I suggested that there should be some garlic involved, and that the pan shouldn't be searing-hot, because the vegetables burnt before the pancakes cooked.  Maybe we will try these again in a different environment....

     I thought that the focaccia was a bit of a bomb as well. The overall flavor was good, but the crust was tough and crunchy, where I felt it should have been slightly crisp around the edges with a chewy, but fluffy center.  I may have to retry this recipe, too, but with a different crust.

 

Addendum: October 24th, 2011

While I was compiling my grocery list this week for The Ham Turnovers (scheduled for 10/27/11), I realized that I still had ham in my refrigerator from the week before.  I looked at a little closer and realized that I NEVER PUT IT IN THE PANCAKES!  It's no wonder we weren't impressed with the flavor.  Now, I am thinking we need to redo this recipe with ALL of the ingredients!

Seared Swordfish Pizza

from the Everything Pizza Cookbook by Belinda Hulin



     My sister, Pam, and I have been trying to lose weight for the last month or so.  Actually, we have been trying for almost our entire lives, really, but now we are really concentrating.  She is much better at it than I am.  She has given up alcohol, which I am not prepared to do right now.  I enjoy it too much.  I love the different flavors of it.  I love combining different liqueurs together to make something different, something that tastes like a food item, but in liquid form, something that makes people smile.  I love pairing different wines or drinks with food to change the flavor of both or enhance the flavor of either.  I like the smell, I like the look of it clinging to the glass, and I like the cool, slick feeling on my tongue.  I am not opposed to reducing my intake, though, or designating certain days as alcohol-free for the sake of finding my waist again.

     That being said, since Pam was my only guest, I decided to forgo the traditional drink of the week.  Actually, I just changed it up a little bit.  I poured some Crystal Light Grapefruit over ice in a tall glass, squeezed a lemon into it, and popped an umbrella straw into the glass for flare.  It was delicious.  It was fruity and tart without being too sweet.  A perfect summer quaff.

     As for the entrees of the evening, since it was just two of us, I decided to postpone the Okono Mi-Yaki that was scheduled for a time when there were more people to eat it.  It is a fried mini pizza recipe, and I figured that it would be better if we had to spread the calories among more people.

     It was a beautiful day.  It was a little chilly - roughly 60 degrees - but the sun was shining and there was no wind.  I was ready to grill again tonight.  I rolled out the dough and built my mise en place.

     I had set the tomatoes for the fresh tomatoes in a colander the refrigerator Wednesday night to drain.  I was very happy that I still am harvesting tomatoes from my garden in mid October.  I sprinkled a little olive oil, salt, and pepper over them and stirred in ribbons of basil from the plant Mary Burdick, Pam's neighbor and friend, gave me.  I eyeballed the amount, because I only needed 1/8 of the amount of the recipe.

     The ingredient list called for thinly sliced mozzarella.  Perhaps the author didn't mean for me to use fresh mozzarella, because I discovered that it doesn't really slice very well, and there really doesn't seem to be a way to make the slices thin.  I placed my blobs of mozzarella and my slices of provolone in a bowl and stacked it on the rolled out dough next to the bowl of tomatoes.

     I put the cute little piece of swordfish I bought at Cub on a plate with a knife (to cut it after searing it) and placed that on the pizza paddle as well.  I added the little containers I had made of lemon zest, capers, and parsley.  I hefted the fully loaded paddle in one hand and my fabulous beverage in my other hand and assigned Pam to her own drink and the door duties.  With that, we headed outside.  I forgot to remind her that the door needed to be unlocked before she shut it after us, so I was thankful that she remembered.  With my husband in Iowa, the back yard gates locked, and no one nearby with a spare key, we could have been in a pickle.

     After the grill had heated up for a while, I placed the dough on one side and the fish on the other.  I wanted the grates good and hot, so when the fish hit them, there would be an instant sear.  After just a couple of minutes, I took both items off.  The grill marks on both were beautiful.

     Once the pizza was assembled, I turned off two of the burners on the grill, Pam scooted the pizza off of the paddle and onto the cooler side of the grill. 

     Unfortunately, the finished product was so beautiful, we were too excited to eat it to take any pictures of it.  The cheese had all melted together to completely cover the pizza.  The provolone was thin and the mozzarella had melted into thinness (I wonder how I can achieve that), so you could see all the ingredients hidden underneath: the perfect o's of the sliced olives, the cubes of fish, big fat capers, and gorgeous tomato chunks.

     We fixed ourselves another fruit drink and dove in.  It was fabulous!  It was even better than I imagined it would be.  I was reluctant to actually put the capers on the pizza, because they are not my favorite ingredient.  In fact, I rather dislike them, but I was surprised.  They added a salty, vegetal tang to the creamy cheese.  It was the perfect compliment to the lemon zest and tomatoes.  The fish was tender, flavorful, and meaty.  If I hadn't known it was fish, I would have guessed pork.  The crust was cooked perfectly - it had a crisp exterior with a nice chew in the middle.

     The whole package was delicious and the company exemplary.

Gebackene Kasebrotchen; Grilled Mushroom Pizza; Baron Cocktail

     I will admit it.  I cheated.  Wednesday I came home from work and didn't feel like doing anything.  This isn't an unusual situation for me, and normally on Wednesdays I would try to fight it.  This Wednesday, however, it seemed like I didn't really need to.  I looked over the recipes, and it didn't really seem like there were a whole lot of preparations needed. 

     I found a tomato-based pasta sauce in the freezer.  It was originally from a jar (purchased on clearance, of course).  Sure, it wasn't the slow-simmered sauce that this week's recipe, but it was all ready.  I pulled it out and set it in the fridge to thaw.

     I did not find the prescribed crust in the freezer, as I was hoping, but I did find a basic crust.  That should do the job...

 

     When I got home from work on Thursday, I started thinking about who all was coming.  My mom was coming (all the way from Nisswa).  She needed to be in town early Friday morning for Grandparents' Day at Gracie's school, so she decided to come on Thursday and spend the night at Jennifer's house.  Jennifer and the kids were going to come for a little while, and Pam was coming, too.  I thought I should make a little extra something, just in case we didn't have enough food with the two scheduled recipes.

My Mom

     I used a new toy my sisters had given me for my birthday.  It is a chopper, slicer, dicer thingee.  I still had a lot of tomatoes and peppers sitting around my counters that I had pulled from the garden, so I thought I would make a quick salsa.  I diced four tomatoes, seeded and diced a large jalapeno, and threw in half of a red onion.  I squeezed a quarter of a lime into the mixture.  I searched all of my pots outside for some viable cilantro, but only came up with a few leaves, so I cut some basil to add to it.  It was still missing something...

     My mom was the first person to show up on Thursday.   After she tasted the salsa, she said she thought it needed some vinegar.  I poured in a little cider vinegar and waited for the new critique.  She deemed it delicious, so I was satisfied.

     I put her to work immediately afterward, slicing the french bread.  She sliced it in half the long way and three pieces the short way.  We tried to fit them in a 9x13 pan, but I wasn't liking the arrangement.  Again, I pulled out the 12x15, but the bread was too thick.  I was afraid food might ooze over the side.  I sliced each piece in half horizontally again, so they were thinner.  Then, I dipped each in milk and placed them in the bar pan side by side.  I'm not sure what the milk was supposed to do. It sounded strange, but I did it anyway.

     I started placing pieces of ham on top of the bread when Jennifer arrived.  I hadn't chosen a drink of the week yet.  I handed her the Old Mr. Boston book I had gotten from one of Pam's friends, Mary Burdick.  She paged through and read off ingredients until she found one that I had everything for.  She chose something called "Baron Cocktail". 

                                                   BARON COCKTAIL

                                                   1/2oz. French Vermouth

                                                                 1 1/2oz. Old Mr. Boston Dry Gin

                                                                 1 1/2tsp Old Mr. Boston Curacao

                                                                    1/2tsp Italian Vermouth

                                            

                                              Stir well with cracked ice and strain

                                                             into 3 oz. cocktail glass.  Add twist of

                                                             lemon peel and drop in glass.

     I knew that my dry vermouth was French.  I hadn't heard of Italian vermouth before now.  Niether had Jen.  She googled it on her fancy new Droid, and it turns out that it is another name for sweet vermouth.  I had that, so this drink was a "go".  I delegated the bartending duties to Jennifer, while I started on slicing the Gruyere. A very dark cocktail appeared shortly thereafter next to my cutting board.  It was navy blue, almost purple, depending on which direction you looked at it.  It was thick and a little sweet.

     I sliced the whole block of Gruyere that I had purchased earlier in the week.  I had made sure to buy the smallest piece Cub had, because it is pretty expensive cheese, and I didn't want to spend more than I needed to.  The resulting slices barely covered the ham slices.  Then, I realized that the tomato slices were supposed to go onto the sandwiches first.  Jennifer and I took all of the cheese off, and I got out my slicer/shopper contraption again.  Unfortunatley, we discovered that  slicing tomatoes is NOT its forte.  The tomatoes all but disintegrated.  It was a little diappointing after it had made perfect cubes out of the tomatoes earlier for the salsa.  We used them anyway and spread them out as best we could over the ham and then replaced the cheese.

     Then I started working on the grilled mushroom pizza.  I looked at the ingredient list.  Oh no!  That called for Gruyere, too, and I had used it all on the Kasebrotchen!  Mom volunteered to go to the grocery store and get some more.  I tried to visualize the Kasebrotchen with half the amount of cheese I had already placed there and whether the mushroom pizza would be sufficiently cheesed with the small amount that we had removed from the other entree.  I thought about what I could add to either pizza to make up the difference.  Meanwhile, Mom was impatient with my silence and indecision and offered her services again.  This time I accepted.

Mom and Gracie

     Pam showed up at about this time, and I put her to work "grilling" the mushrooms.  It was overcast and windy outside, so, again, I had rejected the grilling portion of our pizza night.  While she did that, I put the crust in the oven to get a head start. 

Pam with Her Fabulous New Hairdo!

     Since that didn't take very long, I re-examined the drink.  It was awfully dark.  I asked Jennifer to show me the recipe.  I voiced my opinion that it was amazing that a mere 1/2 teaspoon of red vermouth and 1 1/2 teaspoons of the blue caracao would  have produced such a dark drink.  Her response was "half a teaspoon?"  She had thought all of the measurements were in ounces, so the last two ingredients were tripled.  Well, once we finished the incorrect drink, we had to remake them, right?  Once we put in the correct amount of curacao and red vermouth, it was fabulous!  It had lost its sticky-sweetnes, and just gave a small hint of citrus.  The gin now shone through, and the mineraliness of the French vermouth was a little flash of aftertaste.  However, it did look a bit like airplaine toilet-water. 

     Pam did a wonderful job of "grilling" the portabellas on the stove.  We spread the sauce over the crust, put the slices of Grueyere over the sauce, sprinkled shredded mozzerella over it, and placed the mushrooms over the mozzerella.  The final step before the oven was the sprinkling of blue cheese on top.

     Both "pizzas" were masterpieces.

     The mushrooms were meaty and earthy.  The blue cheese had crusted up a bit and enriched the mushrooms with a warm, creamy flavor, and the Gruyere gave a hint of tang to the whole thing.  It was hearty without being heavy.
     The Kasebrotchen was incredible, too.  It never ceases to amaze me how a few ordinary, simple ingredients can be combined to produce a completely extraordinary dish.  The milk seemed to give the center of the bread a creamy, rich texture, while the outside remained crisp.  The tomato, Gruyere, and ham seemed like they belonged together from the start.  It was salty, crunchy, and juicy all at once.  It was so good, Jeff didn't even offer any to Pele to try and win him over.


Pele