Monday, December 28, 2009

pureed turnips


I'll be the first to admit it: There is nothing sexy about the word "turnip."

To me, it is evocative of bitterly cold winters, economic hardship, damp and moldy places, wartime . . . all decidedly unsexy things. But, as a lover of vegetables and one always striving to serve interesting foods to dinner guests, I chose to include this purple-tinged root on our Christmas 2009 menu. Had I been the only chef in our house, I would have roasted the turnips along with carrots, parsnips, and maybe some purple potatoes (another yet-to-be-worked-with food obsession of mine), and that would have been that. However, my executive chef (a k a father) was firmly opposed to this idea.

We compromised on the following recipe--and still, I'm not sure why I ever agreed to it, given my strong, anti-pureeing proclivities. Why humans ever decided to take a food, any food, with all its structural distinction and textural complexity, run it through a food processor, and render it baby-food-like in consistency is a mystery to me. More than just confounding, I find it annoying. Call me crazy, but I like to chew my food.

(As I pound out these words on my keyboard, I know this is not a universal food law in my life. I love all sorts of things that don't require any chewing whatsoever. Soups! Smoothies! Applesauce! Chocolate mousse! No teeth required! So maybe I can't justify why purees annoy the crap out of me. But they do. At least, until now.)

Given the anti-turnip and anti-puree biases I brought to the table, it's a wonder I could be so utterly in love with this recipe. It came together in what seemed like no time at all, required no expert kitchen skills, and is perfect for making in advance and later reheating. The end result was surprisingly elegant, subtly flavorful, delightfully silky . . . and definitely sexy.

Pureed turnips
Adapted from How to Cook Everything by Mark Bittman
Time: 45-55 minutes
Serves 5 or 6 as a side

1 1/2 lb. turnips
1 or 2 medium potatoes
Salt and freshly ground black pepper to taste
2 Tbsp. olive oil
Parsley, dried or minced fresh, for garnish

1. Bring a large pot of water to a boil, while working on the turnips and potatoes: wash, peel and cut into chunks of relatively equal size.

2. When water is boiling, salt it and add vegetables. Let water return to a boil, then lower it so that it gently bubbles. Cook vegetables until very tender, 20-30 minutes.

3. Drain vegetables, and transfer to the bowl of a food processor. Season with salt and pepper, add the oil, and process until extremely smooth. Taste and adjust seasoning if necessary. (At this point, you can store puree in a tightly sealed container in the fridge. Before serving, warm in the microwave or on stove over low heat.) Serve hot, garnished with parsley.

Sunday, December 20, 2009

snow day, part 3 of 3


I made this recipe so long ago that I don't remember much of the specifics. I happened to be channel surfing one afternoon and stumbled quite accidentally upon the annoyingly cheerful Rachael Ray with her husky voice and irritating abbreviations. My visceral hatred for her 30-Minute Meals took longer than usual to kick in, and somehow I found myself watching her prepare a recipe that--gasp--I actually wanted to make!

Well, that's almost true. I saw that there was pork sausage in it and immediately wrote that out of the equation. But in the time it took me to watch her show, and for her to make a balanced meal from (cue signature sweeping hand motion) start to finish, I had effectively rewritten the recipe to suit my own tastes.

Chili sweet-potato hash
Adapted from Rachael Ray

Serves 4

Time: I forget how long it took me, but
definitely more than 30 minutes (oh, how I loathe cooking gimmicks!)

{for hash}

2 Tbsp. extra-virgin olive oil

1 15-oz. can kidney or black beans, drained and rinsed

1 medium sweet potato, halved lengthwise and sliced into thin half-moons

1 medium red onion, thinly sliced

2 tsp. chili powder

1 tsp. ground cumin

2 tsp. ground coriander

Salt and freshly ground black pepper to taste

1 c. grated sharp cheddar cheese


{for eggs}

1 Tbsp. butter or olive oil

4 large eggs


{optional garnishes}

Guacamole and salsa


1. Heat a large skillet with 2 Tbsp. olive oil over medium-high heat. Add sweet potatoes, onion, chili powder, cumin, coriander, salt and pepper. Cook, stirring frequently, for 10-12 minutes, until vegetables are soft. Midway through the cooking (this is not scientific at all), add the beans so they can warm through and pick up flavors.


2. Transfer to serving platter, top with grated cheese and cover with foil to keep warm while you cook the eggs. *Note: If you have a cooking buddy who'll cook the eggs while you make the hash, this step is unnecessary.


3. Fry (or scramble) eggs to your liking in a preheated pan slicked with butter or olive oil. Season with salt and pepper to taste, then top hash with eggs and garnish with guac, salsa, both or neither!

snow day, part 2 of 3


For at least the last year (and probably longer), I have been obsessed with the idea of making delicious, perfect macaroni and cheese. I want it to be the greatest, most satisfying thing I have ever made. Whenever I find a recipe for it, though, I am seriously turned off by the massive quantities of milk, cheese and butter usually called for. And I abandon the mission for a time.

Finally, I found a recipe I could commit to, one with relatively moderate amounts of the aforementioned ingredients. Of course, it was Mark Bittman's. Disappointingly, it was far from what I'd dreamed of. And I know that, if mind-blowingly amazing mac 'n' cheese is my goal, I probably must embrace scarily large amounts of dairy. But this time I didn't, which is why it was something of a bust.

Objectively, it was pretty good. But it fell far too short of my lofty expectations for me to appreciate it. And I'm predisposed to dislike any recipe that makes me dirty this many dishes.

Macaroni and cheese
Adapted from
How to Cook Everything by Mark Bittman
Serves 4 or more

Time: about 45 minutes


1 3/4 c. low-fat milk
1 bay leaf

1/2 lb. whole-wheat penne rigate

1/2 c. or more frozen peas

2 Tbsp. (1/4 stick) butter

1 1/2 Tbsp. flour

3/4 c. grated sharp cheddar cheese

1/4 c. grated parmesan cheese

Salt and freshly ground black pepper to taste

1/4 c. or more fresh whole-wheat bread crumbs


1. Preheat oven to 400* F. Bring a medium/large pot of water to a boil. Grease an 8x8 baking pan with a little bit of butter, reserving the rest for later.


2. Cook milk and bay leaf in a small saucepan over medium-low heat. When small bubbles appear along the sides, about 5 minutes later, turn off heat and let stand.


3. Salt boiling water and cook pasta to the point where it still needs another three or four minutes to become tender. Throw in the frozen peas and cook another minute, then drain peas and pasta. Rinse under cold water to stop cooking, and set aside.


4. In a medium saucepan over medium-low heat, melt remaining butter. When it is foamy, add flour and cooking, stirring, until mixture browns, about 5 minutes. Remove bay leaf from milk and add about 1/4 c. of milk to hot flour mixture, whisking as you add. As soon as mixture becomes smooth, add a little more milk, and continue to whisk and add until all milk is added and mixture is thick and smooth. Add grated cheddar and stir.


5. Dump pasta and peas into this mixture, add parmesan, season with salt and pepper, and stir to combine. Pour into prepared baking pan, and top liberally with bread crumbs. Bake until bread crumbs are browned, about 15 minutes, and serve hot.

snow day, part 1 of 3

It seems I'm still playing catch-up here, since I still have to add recipes I made before the computer meltdown I mentioned in my last post. And while, lately, I have been busy in the kitchen--baking up my Christmas gifts (and keeping them temporarily off the blog, so as not to spoil the surprise for those receiving them)--during the past couple of months I have been cooking not much, and when I have cooked, I just haven't been tinkering with new recipes. I'm fuzzy on the reasons why this is the case; perhaps the darkening days, exhaustion during the peak of my marathon training (and after the race, too--I'm still sleeping more than ever), and approach of the holidays have taken my attention elsewhere.

Nevertheless, here I am today, snowbound and restless, with the perfect opportunity to make some progress on the blog. And to be perfectly illogical, I'm going to start with what I made last night and work my way backwards in time.

Stewed chickpeas with chicken
Adapted from
How to Cook Everything by Mark Bittman
Yield: 4+ servings

Time: About 45 minutes with precooked chickpeas


With the snow piling up outside all day yesterday, my dad and I wanted to make something warm and comforting. This recipe seemed to fit the bill, while also helping us satisfy our clashing meat-eating agendas (side note: At some point in the last few months, I started noticing that my tolerance for meat went waaaay down. I'm not sure whether it was mental, physical, or something about ramping up my mileage for the marathon that had this effect, but whatever the reason, I still find that it's rare that I want to, or can comfortably, consume any significant quantity of animal protein.), since the chicken is more like a garnish, or just one ingredient, than the main event.


4 c. drained canned chickpeas

2 c. chicken stock, bean cooking liquid, vegetable stock or water

Salt and freshly ground black pepper to taste

3 Tbsp. extra-virgin olive oil

1 large onion, chopped

1 celery stalk, chopped

1 carrot, peeled and chopped

1 Tbsp. minced garlic

1 tsp. peeled and minced fresh ginger

1/2 tsp. ground coriander

1 tsp. ground cumin

2 c. canned tomatoes, with liquid

1-2 c. shredded cooked chicken (we were lazy and bought a precooked bird that Wegmans roasted for us)


1. Combine chickpeas and stock in a small saucepan over medium-low heat. Season to taste with salt (if necessary; I didn't find it to be) and black pepper. Let simmer gently, to warm chickpeas, while you work on everything else.


2. In a large saucepan or deep skillet, heat oil over medium heat, then add onion, celery and carrot. Cook, stirring occasionally, until vegetables are softened, about 10 minutes. Add garlic, ginger, coriander, cumin and tomatoes, and cook 5 minutes more, stirring occasionally.


3. Add chickpeas and stock to vegetable-tomato mixture, and bring to a boil. Reduce heat to a simmer, to let flavors combine and to let liquid reduce. *Note: How long you simmer is up to you. If you want it very soupy, you can serve it immediately. If you want it more stew-like, with less liquid, continue to simmer for 5-10 minutes or more.


4. When there's just about (or slightly more than) the amount of liquid you want, add chicken and stir thoroughly. Lower heat and cover for just a minute or two, to warm chicken through. Serve over cooked grains or with a hunk of warm, crusty bread.

Thursday, November 19, 2009

post-virus recuperation

The recent dearth of activity here at I Don't Eat Bacon is the fault of a virus that completely knocked the crap out of my computer (and a little bit of pre-marathon taper madness, when I found myself completely useless at any task involving sustained attention). We are now back in commission, but not without the loss of the program I use to upload photos to the computer. Annoying as this may be, I'm not letting it hold me back. There are overdue recipes to be posted!

I lost track of when I prepared these, but I can do my best to recreate my thoughts about the results (which I'd drafted in a Word document that, of course, was lost when the computer guys "fixed" the computer).

Catch-up recipe #1:
Vegetarian cassoulet

Adapted from Gourmet, March 2008
Serves 4 to 6
Total time: 1 hr 15 minutes

This falls squarely into the "Sounds too simple to be good, but is really, really good" category. After eating it at a friend's house, I was excited to try it out myself, but I worried that my eating buddies (a k a parents) wouldn't be satisfied by it. Whether it's in their heads or their stomachs, my parents tend to think that if there's not an animal protein on the plate, it ain't a meal. But with steamed broccolini and a mound of cooked grain pilaf, this left them extremely satisfied, both hunger- and taste-wise.

Another note: The original recipe outlines making the cassoulet on the stovetop, starting by sauteeing the vegetables in olive oil, then adding beans and herbs. When my friend's mother made it for us, she bypassed all that and simply threw everything in the oven, sans the oil, and baked it. This approach appealed to me because: it tasted amazing without the extra fat; it involved far less attention during the cooking; and, best of all, there'd be fewer vessels and utensils to clean in the end. Baking it meant less surface area to cover with garlic crumbs (see below), so I meant to halve the quantities for the crumbs. However, my notes suggest that I halved the bread crumbs and oil, but not the garlic, parsley, salt or pepper. I can't figure out what happened, so the amounts below match exactly my suspect notes from the night I made this. Good luck!

{for cassoulet}
1 large red onion, cut into 1-inch pieces
4 medium carrots, halved lengthwise and cut into 1-inch-wide pieces
3 celery ribs, cut into 1-inch-wide pieces
4 garlic cloves, chopped
4 thyme sprigs
2 parsley sprigs
1 Turkish bay leaf (I used two; what we have in our spice cabinet is certainly older than I)
1/8 tsp. ground cloves
3 1/2 cans (15 oz. each) cannellini or Great Northern beans, rinsed and drained
1 qt. water

{for garlic crumbs}
2 c. coarse fresh bread crumbs
3 Tbsp. olive oil
1 Tbsp. chopped garlic
1/4 c. chopped parsley
1/4 tsp. salt
1/4 tsp. black pepper


{make cassoulet}
Preheat oven to 350* F. Combine all ingredients in a large, deep casserole dish. Bake 45-60 minutes, or until liquid is mostly absorbed and vegetables are tender.

{make garlic crumbs}
While cassoulet bakes, toss bread crumbs with oil, garlic, salt and pepper in a bowl until well coated. Spread on a baking pan and toast in the same 350* oven. After 6-7 minutes, stir crumbs. Continue cooking until crisp and golden, another 6-8 minutes.

Remove pan from oven and allow crumbs to cool. Return to bowl and combine with parsley.

{seal the deal}
When there's still a bit too much water left, remove cassoulet from oven and pluck out herb springs and bay leaf. Mash some of the beans with a fork or spoon; this will help thicken the surrounding liquid, which is very nice. Top cassoulet with garlic crumbs, then return to oven to continue cooking and to crisp the top.


Catch-up recipe #2:
Pumpkin molasses cookies

Adapted from The Healthy Everythingtarian
Yield: I forget, but it was more than the 2 dozen promised in the original. Like, I think it was twice as many.
Time: 15 minutes prep, 10-12 minutes baking time

I made these the same day as the cassoulet. My only real logic behind that was, Hey, the oven's already set to 350* . . . why not bake some cookies? The fact that I think anytime is cookie time may have been a factor.

2 c. whole wheat flour
1/2 tsp. salt
1 tsp. baking soda
1 Tbsp. ground cinnamon
3/4 tsp. ground ginger, plus more for dusting cookies
1/2 tsp. ground nutmeg
1/4 c. wheat germ
1/2 c. pureed cooked pumpkin
1/4 c. molasses
1/4 c. canola oil
3/4 c. evaporated cane juice (or sugar or other sweetener), divided
2 Tbsp. water

1. Preheat oven to 350* F (unless it's already set there!). Line a baking pan with parchment paper, or lightly grease it with canola oil.

2. In a large bowl, sift together flour, salt, baking soda, cinnamon, ginger, nutmeg and wheat germ. Set aside.

3. In a medium bowl, whisk together pumpkin, molasses and oil. Then whisk in all but 2 Tbsp. of the evaporated cane juice.

4. Fold pumpkin mixture into dry ingredients, adding water toward the end to help bring dough together. It will be sticky!

5. In a small bowl, combine remaining 2 Tbsp. evaporated cane juice and a couple dashes of ground ginger.

6. Spoon out dough 1 Tbsp. at a time, roll into a ball, then toss in sugar/ginger mixture until lightly coated. Place on prepared pan, then continue with remaining dough. Before putting into oven, press down each cookie with the tines of a fork vertically, then horizontally, to create crisscross lines and to slightly flatten cookies to about 1/4-1/2 inches in thickness.

7. Bake for 10-12 minutes or until slightly firm.

Sunday, October 11, 2009

a different kind of potato salad

I've reached what I consider a sort of culinary milestone: This week, I cooked beans myself for the first time in my life. Of all possible kitchen achievements, this one is low on the skill-level spectrum, but it's one about which I'm nevertheless sort of proud.

At the time, though, the hungry part of me (which was very hungry) thought, This is a huge pain in the ass. And compared to opening up a can and, presto, having your beans ready to rock, cooking them yourself really is less convenient. But dried-then-cooked beans are cheaper than canned, not swimming in salty liquid, and you can control their relative firmness or mushiness by how long you cook them. In no way am I suggesting that my relationship with canned beans is over; it's not. But when I have the time and the forethought to soak and cook my own, I think I will.

Everything that Mark says about this salad is true. Except for the addition of some leftover brown rice, I followed his recipe to the letter, so I'm not going to bother posting it. Lazy, but true.

Friday, October 9, 2009

apple crisp


On a recent warm but windy afternoon, some friends and I went apple picking. Though we have plenty good options for such an adorably autumnal pursuit here in south Jersey, we wanted to make an adventure out of it and so chose to visit a farm in nearby Bucks County. On that day, the farm was holding some kind of family festival centered around pumpkin picking, a corn maze and other fall activities. But apple picking seemed more like a sideshow than the main event; after some head scratching and asking for directions, we stumbled upon a small clearing (well off the main road and literally in someone's back yard) with no more than 10 or 12 neat rows of apple trees. Each tree bore a sign indicating the type of apple it yielded--among them were jonagold, fuji, gala, cameo and golden delicious--but, sadly, most were already completely picked. Consequently, our bounty was small. But still delicious, and not so small that some sort of apple baking couldn't be done.

In fact, by the time the apples were sliced, we realized that we had far more than the crisp recipe called for. So we greased another pan and made a second! The one ingredient we didn't double--because of our health-minded impulses, and maybe because we didn't have enough to double it--was the butter, so some parts of the top were not so crunchy as others. This wasn't altogether unpleasant, so if the one thing holding you back from this recipe is butter (and you don't mind a crisp whose topping isn't uniformy crisp-y), don't let it.


Apple crisp
Adapted from How to Cook Everything (natch)
Yield: 6 to 8 servings
Time: 30-40 minutes for baking, plus however long it takes you to peel, core and slice your apples and measure out the other ingredients

6 c. peeled, cored, sliced apples
1 tsp. ground cinnamon
Juice of 1/2 lemon
2/3 c. brown sugar, or to taste
1/2 c. rolled oats (we used quick oats, which were fine, but I longed for a more substantial texture that rolled oats would provide)
1/2 c. all-purpose flour
Dash salt
5 Tbsp. cold unsalted butter, cut into bits, plus butter for greasing pan

1. Preheat the oven to 400 degrees Fahrenheit. Toss apples with half the cinnamon, the lemon juice and 1 Tbsp. of the sugar, and spread it in a lightly buttered 8-inch square or 9-inch round baking pan.


2. Let the cold butter soften a bit, while you combine all remaining dry ingredients in a bowl. Work in butter using fingertips, a pastry blender or a fork. [OR, do this step using your food processor: Combine remaining dry ingredients and butter in the container of a food processor. Pulse a few times, then process a few seconds more until everything is well incorporated by not uniform.]

3. Spread topping over apples and bake 30-40 minutes, until topping is browned and apples are tender. Serve hot, warm or at room temperature.


serving suggestion:
warm apple crisp with AmeriCone Dream ice cream!

Sunday, September 27, 2009

brownies for a birthday boy

This weekend, there was a brownie lover in my midst. It was my sister's boyfriend, and we were all together to celebrate my mom's birthday. But as it turns out, the brownie lover would be celebrating his birthday soon, so at the last minute I was informed that we would be celebrating two birthdays at once. With my limited financial resources, I thought it wise to stay home and make his gift than hopping in my car to go buy something (which, feeling the way I was after my 15-mile run, seemed like a bad idea for me and everyone else on the road).

Now, I know the point of this blog is to post new recipes. And if you know me at all, you'll know that I am not a stranger to homemade brownies. In fact, I spent the better part of my college years baking them for various occasions: new roomies, finals, birthdays, welcome back from your semester abroad, etc. In those days, I was uberloyal to Mollie Katzen's recipe in the original Moosewood Cookbook. But looking at it now, I'm not so in love as I once was. It seems really . . . complicated. In comparison, How to Cook Everything was still on my kitchen table, and its brownie recipe seemed ridiculously simple. Plus, I'm running low on flour, and HtCE calls for just one half cup. Bittman 1, Katzen 0.

Danny's birthday brownies
Adapted from How to Cook Everything by Mark Bittman
Yield: MB says 1 to 2 dozen. I say, are you serious?! I came out with nine. Granted, they were big, birthday-sized brownies, but still . . . you will get 1 to 2 dozen brownies only if they are very small
Time: 40 minutes

2 oz. unsweetened chocolate, roughly chopped*
8 Tbps. (1 stick) unsalted butter, softened, plus a little for greasing the pan
1 c. sugar*
2 eggs
1/2 c. all-purpose flour
Pinch salt
1/2 tsp. vanilla extract
1/2 c. chopped toasted almonds
1/2 c. chocolate chips

*soooooo, I realized almost too late that I was using grain-sweetened chocolate chips, which are sweet but not very. I knew I'd probably want to add sugar, but I wasn't sure how much, so I nervously added some little by little, tasting the mixture a few times and worrying that the end result would either be shockingly sweet or taste like chocolate-laced cardboard. I guess I ended up adding 1/4 to 1/3 cup, but I don't know for sure!

1. Preheat oven to 350 degrees F. Line an 8-inch square baking pan with aluminum foil, and butter the foil.

2. Combine chocolate and butter in small saucepan over very low heat, stirring occasionally. When chocolate is just about melted, remove from heat and continue stirring until mixture is smooth.

3. Transfer chocolate mixture to a medium bowl and stir in sugar. Then beat in eggs, one at a time. Gently stir in flour, salt and vanilla. Then stir in almonds and chocolate chips.

4. Pour and scrape into prepared pan, and bake 20 to 25 minutes, or until just set in the middle. It's better to underbake than to overbake them. Cool on a rack before cutting. Store, covered and at room temperature, for no more than a day.

cold peanut noodles

Friday is an interesting day for me, foodwise, because it is the day when I do not exercise and, therefore, have more time on my hands. It is also typically the day before my longest run of the week, which means that it's an important day to eat well so I can power through my Saturday morning miles. While contemplating the scheduled 15-mile training run I had on tap for the next morning, I knew for sure that pasta would be the main event. I didn't have any meat, tofu or fish in the house (other than canned tuna, which was decidedly not singing to me), but I wanted a good source of protein in my meal. And that's when it hit me: cold peanut noodles! Using a healthy dose of peanut butter in the sauce, I'd get my protein and a nice hit of fat, too. I grabbed my Bittman cooking bible, which was still out on the counter after another cooking adventure earlier in the week, and excitedly flipped through to the pasta section. Not only was it ridiculously easy to pull together, I also didn't have to leave the house to buy a single ingredient.

That is, I made the recipe work using the slightly-different-than-called-for ingredients that I already had. Namely, dried thin whole-wheat spaghetti for the noodles, regular sesame oil rather than dark, sriracha as my hot sauce, and an unmeasured amount of scallions equal to the only good parts remaining from a bunch that had seen better days. I added frozen edamame to the mix and steamed a mix of bok choy and spinach to make it a meal.

One note about the hot sauce: I added it bit by bit as the noodles were cooking, then left the sauce to hang out while the noodles chilled. When I returned to the sauce, it was much spicier than I remembered it--probably to be expected, since all the different parts had had time to get to know each other better--which for me was a good thing, because I like spicy food. If you do not, consider seasoning with caution.

Cold noodles with peanut sauce
Adapted from How to Cook Everything by Mark Bittman
Time: About 40 minutes

12 oz. fresh egg noodles or any dried noodles, such as spaghetti
1/2 to 1 cup frozen shelled soybeans
2 Tbsp. dark sesame oil, divided
1/2 c. natural peanut butter
1 Tbsp. honey
1/4 c. soy sauce
1 Tbsp. rice vinegar
Hot sesame oil, chili-garlic sauce, Tabasco or other hot sauce to taste
Salt and freshly ground black pepper to taste
At last 1/2 c. minced scallions for garnish

1. Cook noodles in boiling salted water according to package instructions until tender but not mushy. A minute or two before they're done, add soybeans to the pot. Drain, then rinse in cold water for a minute or two. Toss with half the sesame oil and refrigerate up to two hours, or proceed with recipe.

2. While pasta cooks, make the sauce: Beat together peanut butter, honey, soy sauce and vinegar. Add a little hot sauce and salt and pepper; taste and adjust seasoning as necessary. Thin sauce with hot water (I took it straight from the pasta pot), so that it is about the consistency of heavy cream.

3. Toss together noodles and sauce, and add more of any seasoning if necessary. Drizzle with remaining sesame oil, garnish and serve.

beets in butter

A recent outing in search of a part-time job led me to Whole Foods, where I discovered that they sell beets individually, rather than in bunches. Perfect! I thought, since I usually cook just for myself and sometimes struggle to use a whole bunch of beets before either A) they go bad or B) I've had my fill and can't stand the sight of them. Solution found!

To use them, I settled on a preparation in How to Cook Everything wherein you bake the beets, then saute them in butter. It is very rare that I cook with butter, so it's almost an unfamiliar taste to me, but lately I've found that it makes a big difference in flavor (and that it tastes really good). And, anyway, I wanted to try doing something new with beets, other than baking them and eating them sliced or chopped up in a salad.

As the beets sauteed, I cooked some store-bought whole wheat gnocchi that I've wanted to try for a while, but haven't known exactly how to use. (I have a sort of mental block with topping whole-wheat pasta with tomato sauce, or even something like pesto; it just doesn't make sense to me.) After they cooked, I tossed them briefly in the pan with the beets to pick up the flavors from the pan, then topped everything with a little shredded pecorino romano.

Sadly, I wasn't as wowed by the butter as I had expected and hoped to be. I hate to say it, but I could have used olive oil and enjoyed it just as much. But you butter lovers out there shouldn't be swayed by this disclaimer--embrace the recipe in its original glory!

Beets in butter
from How to Cook Everything by Mark Bittman
Time: 1 hour inactive baking, plus 15 minutes for everything else

4 large or 8 medium beets, about 1 1/2 to 2 lbs., with about 1 inch of their tops still on
2 Tbsp. butter (or oil)
Salt and freshly ground black pepper
Fresh chives or parsley leaves for garnish

1. To bake beets: preheat oven to 400 degrees F. Wash beets well. Wrap them individually in foil and place on baking sheet or roasting pan. Cook, undisturbed, for 45 minutes to 1 1/2 hours, until a thin-bladed knife pierces one with little resistance (they may cook at different rates; remove each one when it is done). While the beets are cooking, you can mince the herbs, do a load of laundry, watch some Law & Order, call your great-aunt Mildred, and so on.

2. When they are cool enough to handle, peel the baked beets and slice or cut into chunks. If, like me, you're going to combine the finished beets with other things, you may consider cutting them into similiarly sized pieces (as I did, or tried to do, with the gnocchi).

3. To a large, deep skillet over medium-high heat, add butter. When butter foam subsides, add beets. Cook, stirring, until hot, about 5 minutes (or less, if you didn't let the beets cool very long after baking). Season with salt and pepper, garnish and serve.

Monday, September 14, 2009

greek salad

I am obsessed with Greek salad. This summer, I spent several weekends at a friend's parents' house in Long Branch, and their extraordinarily well stocked refrigerator nearly always had some of the stuff from the local outpost of this joint. The salad itself is wonderful, but my newfound love for it I suspect has just as much to do with the food as with the positive associations linked to it: relaxation, great company, fantastic weather.

When a food or dish is on my mind as much as this has been, it only makes sense for me to make it at home. And though I hardly followed a recipe to make it--rather, I referred to a couple selections in Mark Bittman's How to Cook Everything and then promptly ignored most of both recipes--it was a new culinary foray for me and, therefore, deserving of a blog post. It was really, really satisfying and really, really easy. (I say that about everything I post here, don't I?) The measurements below are guesses of what I used, because I am a half-assed recipe writer and didn't measure most things. I used English cucumber and two gorgeous heirloom tomatoes I found at the grocery store, but you could use bell pepper, cherry or grape tomatoes, regular cucumber, radishes, anything else you wanted. Although any Greek salad I've ever eaten had onions in it, I have recently discovered--to my very great dismay--that they give me heartburn, so I omitted them.

One handy note: The dressing should sit for a bit, so the flavors can develop. Therefore, it's a good idea to make the dressing completely and set aside before prepping the salad ingredients. The time it takes you to wash, mince, chop and toss things is enough for the dressing to hang out and do its thing.

Greek salad with lemon vinaigrette
Adapted from Mark Bittman
Serves 5

Ingredients
{dressing}
1 tsp. minced or grated lemon zest
1/2 tsp. salt, or to taste (
I halved this, since the salad would be salty from the feta and olives)
1/4 c. fresh squeezed lemon juice

Ground black pepper, to taste or none at all, if you prefer
1/2 c. extra-virgin olive oil, plus a little more if needed



{salad}
4-6 c. mixed greens, such as romaine lettuce, spinach, arugula and/or whatever else you have/like, washed and chopped or torn into bite-size pieces
1/4 c. minced fresh mint, or a mix of mint and parsley
1 c. cucumber, sliced and then halved to make half-moon shapes
2 medium tomatoes, cored and cut into large chunks, or 1-2 c. grape or cherry tomatoes, halved
1/4 c. pitted whole kalamata olives
1/4-1/2 c. feta, chopped or crumbled

1. In a small bowl, mix zest, salt and juice briefly with an immersion blender, wire whisk or fork. (You could also do this in a food processor or blender.) Slowly add oil in a stream, or drop by drop if whisking, until an emulsion forms or your arm starts to get tired. For me, they take the same amount of time.

2. Add remaining oil faster, but still somewhat slowly and steadily. Taste to adjust salt, and if too lemony, add a bit more oil. Set aside while you prepare the rest of the salad, to allow the flavors to develop.

3. In a large serving bowl (a large soup pot also works if, like me, you recently broke your only very large serving bowl), combine greens, herbs and about 1/4 c. of dressing; toss, and if you think it needs more dressing, go ahead and add more.

4. Add cucumber, tomatoes, olives and feta. Gently toss again, and serve.



I topped the salad with grilled chicken that had marinated for an hour in this bottled salad dressing, and to round things out, I served everything with store-bought pita, hummus and stuffed grape leaves.

Miraculously, there are leftovers. Thankfully, I don't have to think too hard about what to eat for dinner tonight.

Monday, August 31, 2009

grilled, grilled and chilled

Yesterday brought refreshingly cool weather and with it, I think, a reminder that summer isn't sticking around forever. I don't know how else to explain why Sunday night dinner was so grill-centric. I also think that the impending change of season explains why my dad and I impulsively went ingredient-shopping at our town's farmers' market--for the first time ever. Among our purchases: two pristine white eggplants, one gorgeous heirloom bell pepper (very regrettably not pictured), and a pint of the suh-weetest cherry tomatoes.

The grillfest began with an eggplant salad recipe that I clipped from the NYT probably a year or two ago. Because we bought them before deciding how to use them, and because it never occurred to me that I might not have the proper amount for the recipe, the eggplant-to-everything-else ratio may have been a little off. (In other words, the salad ended up being very oniony and very yogurty. Neither was such a bad thing, but the eggplant was a little lost.)

Next up: grilled chicken with honey and cumin, aka yet more proof that Mark Bittman is a master of simple, delicious and creative food.

And with all that time spent before the grill, we wanted something cool and easy to balance things out. Tabbouleh out of a box fit the bill--and I know, homemade wouldn't have been very difficult, but there was a baseball game keeping me from spending my whole afternoon and evening in the kitchen.

Below, the recipes!

eggplant, post-grilling but pre-everything else


Grilled eggplant salad with yogurt
From Mark Bittman
Time: About 40 minutes
Serves 4

1 lb. eggplants, preferably small light purple ones
1 medium onion, minced
3 garlic cloves, minced
1 1/2 c. plain whole milk yogurt
Salt and pepper, to taste
Pinch cayenne or Aleppo pepper or other mild ground chili powder
1/4 c. chopped fresh parsley or mint

1. Start a charcoal grill or wood fire or preheat a gas grill or broiler; rack should be no more than 4 inches from heat source. Cut eggplants in half lengthwise up to stem, but do not cut through. Spread about 2/3 of onion and garlic between eggplant halves, and press two sides back together.

2. Grill eggplants, turning once or twice, until they are blackened and collapsed, 10 to 15 minutes. Do not worry if skin burns a bit. Meanwhile, mix remaining onion and garlic with yogurt; season to taste with salt, pepper and cayenne.

3. When cooked, let eggplants cool a bit, then peel off skins and let cool further. Roughly chop eggplants, then mix with yogurt dressing. Serve at room temperature or chill if you like; in either case, garnish with parsley or mint.




Grilled chicken cutlets with honey and cumin

Adapted from How to Cook Everything by Mark Bittman
Time: 20 minutes, plus time to preheat grill
Serves 4

4 boneless, skinless chicken cutlets (2 whole breasts, split), 1 to 1 1/2 lbs., rinsed and patted dry with paper towels
1 Tbsp. olive oil
2 Tbsp. honey
1 Tbsp. freshly squeezed orange juice
1 Tbsp. ground cumin
1/2 tsp. minced garlic
Salt and pepper to taste

1. Start a charcoal grill or wood fire or preheat a gas grill or broiler; rack should be no more than 4 inches from heat source. If necessary, you can pound chicken pieces lightly between two sheets of waxed paper so that they are of uniform thickness.

2. Rub chicken with oil. Combine honey, orange juice, cumin, garlic, salt and pepper.

3. Grill or broil the chicken very quickly (it should take no more than 3 or 4 minutes per side), brushing once or twice through cooking with the honey-cumin mixture. Serve hot or at room temperature.

Note: MB includes this as a variation to another recipe, and in the variation it's unclear whether the chicken should be brushed with honey-cumin mixture prior to hitting the grill. I decided not to brush it until it was already cooking, worrying that the honey might burn. It was absolutely delicious done this way, but I'm still not sure if this was how Mark had intended it.

Monday, August 24, 2009

emergency muffins

On my morning walk I was struck with the urge and inspiration to bake, partly because we're experiencing a temporary break in the insanely hot and humid weather and partly because I have a good friend coming over this afternoon whom I'd like to offer some sort of nibble. Carrots left over from last week's soba noodle salad were calling to me, so I thought I'd try my hand at carrot muffins, using my favorite banana bread recipe as a template and screwing around with different parts of it.

As I brainstormed and worked, I realized that this recipe lends itself to all sorts of additions and subsititutions--different grains, fruits, veggies and spices could all work well--which, if you ask me, makes it perfect for throwing together at the last minute for houseguests, a pot luck, anything. Regardless of what you do or do not have in your pantry, there's probably some combination you could use with this recipe and still have something yummy in almost no time.

ALSO. The original recipe contains butter and eggs, but it still comes out great with vegan substitutions. So no matter who shows up on your doorstep (or their dietary preferences), you're golden with this one!

Carrot date oat muffins
Adapted from
this recipe on the back of the King Arthur Flour package
Time: 15 min prep and 20-25 min baking

Yield: 12 muffins


1/2 c. mashed ripe banana (vegan) or butter (not)

1/2 c. brown sugar, light or dark

1 tsp. vanilla extract

3/4 tsp. baking soda

1/2 tsp. salt

1 1/2 c. shredded, grated or finely chopped carrot

1/4 c. maple syrup (vegan) or honey (not), or to taste (
the dates added their own sweetness to the mix, so in the future I will use less sweetener)
1 c. unsweetened applesauce (vegan) or 2 large eggs (not)

2 c. 100% whole wheat flour

1/3 c. rolled oats

3 dates, pitted and chopped


1. Preheat oven to 350 degrees F. Line a 12-cup muffin pan with cupcake liners, or grease pan with canola oil (vegan) or butter (not).


2. In a large bowl, beat together banana/butter, sugar, vanilla, baking soda, and salt. Add carrot, maple syrup/honey, and applesauce/eggs, beating until smooth. Add flour to wet mixture, stirring until smooth.


3. In a small bowl, combine oats and dates. Toss briefly to dust dates with oats, breaking up any clumps of dates. Add to batter, and stir well until incorporated.


4. Scoop batter into prepared pan (about 1/4 c. batter per muffin cup). Bake 20-25 minutes, until a toothpick inserted into the center of a muffin comes out clean.


Some possible interesting additions/substitutions (should total 1/4 to 3/4 cup):
-shredded or flaked coconut
-chopped walnuts, hazelnuts, almonds or other nuts
-sesame, sunflower or pumpkin seeds
-cooked rice, wheatberries, barley or other grains
-cinnamon, nutmeg or allspice
-chocolate chips (if making vegan, use dairy-free chocolate)
-wheat germ, wheat bran, oat bran, spelt flakes
-raisins, dried apricots, prunes, dried blueberries or other dried fruits
-orange or lemon zest

Wednesday, August 19, 2009

spicy, sweet, slurpy salad

In case you haven't noticed, it's hot as hell. On Sunday I heard the TV weatherman speak the phrase "heat wave" for the first time this summer, and boy, has Mother Nature delivered. This means that, no matter how much I am craving banana chocolate chip muffins (a lot) or how restorative a bowl of hot soup would feel (still fighting the vestiges of last week's cold), my sweat glands and I are firmly opposed to actual cooking.

So imagine my glee when I found a clutch of salad recipes from a back issue of Women's Health, all refreshing and packed with a variety of tasty things crying out to be eaten, in my collection of clipped recipes I want to try. ("Collection" is a fancy word for a tattered blue Trapper Keeper folder I used for English 163, "Distinguished Writers/New Voices" with Anne Greene. Go Wes!) This one, which my cooking buddy Julia and I decided on, is surprisingly filling and full of really interesting elements I wouldn't think to put together: white miso, orange juice, mint, sesame oil. To be fair, water was indeed boiled for the soba, but while it cooked I was able to stay far away from the stove. Not a violation of the No Cooking During a Heatwave rule that I invented at the beginning of this post.


Sesame soba noodle salad
Time: 20 mins prep, 6-8 mins cooking, 30 mins chilling
Adapted from Women's Health magazine (issue unknown!)

1 package soba noodles (appx. 8 oz.)
1 c. frozen shelled edamame
(we threw in some frozen corn, too, but didn't measure it!)
1 1/2 c. shredded carrots
1 1/2 c. sliced scallion
1/2 c. chopped fresh mint
1 c. diced red, orange or yellow bell pepper
1 large orange, for zest and juice
2 Tbsp. white miso
3 Tbsp. sesame oil
2 Tbsp. soy sauce
1/2 tsp. crushed red pepper flakes

1. Add to a large saucepan enough water to cook the entire package of soba. (The original recipe says to fill a 6-quart saucepan with agua; I ignored this and just guessed.) Bring to a boil, add soba, frozen edamame and frozen corn. Cook 6 minutes, test a noodle, and continue to cook if it still has a bite in the middle. You want the soba to be soft throughout.

2. Meanwhile, in a small or medium bowl with high sides, zest and juice the orange. Whisk in miso, oil, soy sauce and red pepper flakes until smooth.

3. When done, remove soba, edamame and corn to a colander and rinse very well in cold water. Set aside to drain.

4. Combine carrots, scallion, mint and bell pepper in a large bowl, then add drained soba and toss gently. Pour dressing over salad and toss gently a second time.

5. Refrigerate for 30 minutes. Serve cold or at room temperature.

Thursday, August 13, 2009

black bean tacos and the world's most refreshing salad

Last night, Julia and I had what I think may have been our tastiest cooking adventure yet. After our Monday morning swim, we rooted through my recipe box and found two awesome-sounding recipes that I'd never made before. The first, for black bean tacos, was an adaptation from a Bon Appetit recipe published in one of the local papers, and though it sounded a little crazy to both of us (I was suspicious of the feta, and Julia seemed a little uncertain at first about the cabbage), we ran with it. I can't articulate how I feel about it any other way except to say that it was really flippin' good. We paired the tacos with a salad of watermelon, cucumber and jicama, using a recipe I found in an issue of Gourmet a few years ago. I had never bought or cooked with jicama before (a little tough to peel, but otherwise fine!), and it was Julia's first time eating it (she liked it!).

Everything was refreshing, full of flavor, well balanced, and very healthy. Plus, it was a snap to prepare the two dishes at once, since neither was very complex and they shared some ingredients. I was tempted to sip something tequila-y with all of it, especially after seeing Mark Bittman's agua fresca recipe earlier in the day, but I knew that doing so would make this morning's run extra challenging so I stayed booze-free.

Bonus: I had the good sense while I was in Philly to swing by Sue's, the amazing produce market on South 18th Street to see if they had any of the ingredients I needed. I bought the scallions and all the herbs for only $3.50! A steal! And I got smallish quantities of basil and mint, rather than the big bunches I find the supermarket that go bad before I can use them up.

Black bean tacos with feta and cabbage slaw
Adapted from Bon Appetit (February 2009)
Serves 5

15-oz. can black beans, rinsed and drained
1/2 tsp. cumin
1/2 tsp. salt
1 Tbsp. fresh lime juice
2 tsp. olive oil
2 c. coleslaw mix
2 scallions, chopped
1/3 c. chopped fresh cilantro
Freshly ground black pepper
Hot sauce
5 white corn, yellow corn, or flour tortillas (we used whole wheat flour tortillas)
1/3 c. crumbled feta

1. In a small saucepan or microwaveable bowl, combine beans, cumin and salt. Use a fork to partially mash beans. Set aside.

2. In medium bowl, combine lime juice and oil. Add cabbage, scallions and cilantro. Toss, season to taste with black pepper and hot sauce, and toss again. Set aside.

3. On stovetop over low heat (or in microwave) gently warm bean mixture. Warm tortillas in a dry pan, oven or microwave, just enough so that they are pliable. Divide bean mixture among the tortillas and spread in an even layer over each tortilla.

NOTE: The original recipe outlines how to make crispy tacos, and though we didn't go that route, it does sound quite good: Divide bean mixture evenly among tortillas, and spread beans evenly over top of each tortilla. Heat 3 tsp. olive oil in a large skillet over medium-high heat. Add tortillas (working in batches if necessary) bean-side up, and cook for 1 minute. Fold in half, then continue to heat about 1 minute per side, or until golden brown.

4. Fill each taco with some of the cabbage mixture and a sprinkling of feta.



great green goodies


Watermelon, cucumber and jicama salad
From Gourmet (July 2004)
Serves 6


4 c. cubed seeded watermelon (from a 3-lb. piece, rind discarded)
2 c. cubed peeled jicama (1 lb.)
2 c. cubed English cucumber (1 1/2 lb.)
1/2 c. fresh lime juice
1/4 c. chopped fresh mint
1/4 c. chopped fresh cilantro
1/4 c. chopped fresh basil
1 tsp. salt

Toss together all ingredients in a large bowl and serve immediately.

OR: You can combine watermelon and vegetables 6 hours ahead and store, covered, in the refrigerator until ready to serve. Likewise, you can chop and combine the herbs 6 hours ahead and store, covered, in the fridge until serving time.

Monday, August 3, 2009

a second glimpse of veggie heaven

As promised in yesterday's post, we made good use of the offerings of my dad's co-worker's garden for last night's dinner. Though it wasn't a meatless meal, there were a lot of vegetables invited to the party. The main event was sausage and pepper sandwiches, which we made with sweet Italian turkey sausage (grilled) and a bevy of onions and Italian frying peppers (sliced and sauteed, and pictured). I was especially excited about the peppers, because I've had a years-long half-assed interest in trying them since I worked at a farm stand during high school and college. I love their fierce green color, and their scent gives me the impression that they'd be spicy to eat, but I've never cared enough to actually purchase and cook some. They weren't spicy at all, which was a bit of a disappointment. But they were good!


As a side to our sandwiches, I threw together this salad with the gorgeous red and yellow cherry tomatoes as the centerpiece. We didn't have enough tomatoes to make a salad large enough for everyone, so to stretch it out I added: quartered cucumber slices, torn fresh basil, some itty bitty balls of fresh mozzarella, a drizzle of olive oil, kosher salt and black pepper. Mmm! A big bowl of freshness.

And finally, here is a recipe I made over a week ago with my partner in culinary crime, Julia, that I failed to post (and photograph, as it happens). It is super simple, especially because we used canned beans, and lightly filling. In other words, exactly what you feel like making and eating on a hot and humid summer evening.

Four bean salad with vegetables
Adapted from Simply Recipes
Yield and time: A lot and a little. (Whoops, I didn't keep track of either!)

1 15-oz. can kidney beans, rinsed and drained
1 15-oz. can cannellini beans, rinsed and drained
1 15-oz. can chickpeas, rinsed and drained
1 15-oz. can butter beans, rinsed and drained
2 celery stalks, chopped fine
1/2 red onion, chopped fine
1 c. cooked corn kernels
1 c. chopped flat leaf parsley
1/3 c. apple cider vinegar
1/3 c. granulated sugar, or to taste (I really liked that the dressing was sweet, but next time I'd prefer it a little less so)
1/4 c. extra-virgin olive oil
1 1/2 tsp. salt
Freshly ground black pepper to taste

1. Combine beans, celery, onion, corn and parsley in a large bowl.

2. In a small bowl, whisk together vinegar, sugar, olive oil, salt and pepper. Add to salad, and toss to coat.

3. Serve immediately or, if you have time, let salad chill in the refrigerator for several hours so beans and veggies can absorb the flavors of the dressing. Serve cold or at room-temperature.

Julia and I cooked up a batch of wheat berries and ate them alongside the salad. But when I ate some of the leftovers later in the week, I threw the wheatberries right into the salad and much preferred it that way. I like the presence of their chewiness with the beans and crunchy veggies, and the grain gave the salad more visual interest by adding another color to the mix.

We also brainstormed some further variations on this: the addition and/or substitution of black beans; making a dressing of orange or lime juice, honey, olive oil and a little cumin, and possibly also replacing the parsley with cilantro; more and/or different vegetables, such as green or wax beans, grape tomatoes, chopped cucumber . . .

Sunday, August 2, 2009

produce galore

There's no mistaking the season in my kitchen this weekend. Check out the view:


Plenty of fresh produce! It must be summer! The frying peppers and itty bitty tomatoes came from the garden of my dad's co-worker and have been reserved for tonight's dinner: turkey-sausage sandwiches with peppers and onions (a ballpark-ified, sauceless version of one of my favorite recipes) and a tomato salad. The fruit is there just because we like it.

But wait, there's more! I have been on a salad tear lately--with the weather hot and lots of yummy things in season, I've been craving fresh, crisp, cool vegetables and not much else. Which is why, when I discovered that I would be eating alone on Saturday night, I decided on a big dinner salad. If I were cooking with my family, surely someone would cry out for protein or a starch, or otherwise insist on making this a square meal. And don't get me wrong, I'm all for balanced nutrition . . . in general, most of the time. But when my tummy is growling and the growls all sound like "Veggies, please!" I know that the best thing is to simply heed the call.


Arugula, potato, green bean and walnut salad

Adapted from Smitten Kitchen's adaptation of the original from Maratha Stewart Living (August 2007)
Makes 4 small or 2 large servings

1 Tbsp. walnuts
3/4 lb. fingerling potatoes (or red skinned, if like me you can't find fingerlings), cut crosswise into 1/2-inch-thick rounds
3 oz. haricots verts, green beans or wax beans, trimmed and cut into two-inch segments
1 Tbsp. white wine or other mild vinegar
1 Tbsp. plain yogurt
1/2 tsp. Dijon mustard
1/2 tsp. kosher salt
Fresh ground black pepper to taste
1 Tbsp. walnut oil
1 1/2 oz. baby arugula (or more, if you're as hungry as I was. I used about 3 oz. for two portions.)

1. Preheat toaster oven or oven to 375 degrees Fahrenheit. Toast walnuts on a baking sheet in oven until fragrant, just a few minutes. Let cool slightly, then chop coarsely and set aside.

2. Bring a medium saucepan of water to a boil. Add potatoes and cook until tender, about 10 minutes. Using a slotted spoon, transfer potatoes to a colander to drain and cool. Set aside.

3. Prepare an ice-water bath; set aside. Return water to a boil. Add green beans and cook until tender and bright green. [The recipe says this should take 3-4 minutes, and I laughed at this. I cooked the beans about 45-60 seconds, and they were perfect. Do what you like, my friend.] Using a slotted spoon, transfer beans to the ice-water bath to stop cooking. Drain.

4. Whisk together yogurt, mustard, salt and pepper. Add oil in a slow, steady stream while whisking, until emulsified.

5. Combine arugula, potatoes and green beans in a large bowl, add dressing and toss to coat. Sprinkle walnuts on top, and serve.

Sunday, July 12, 2009

birthday week eats

To truly celebrate my birthday, it's not enough for me to have a single 24-hour period of giddiness and gifts and nutritionally unsound sugar consumption. I like to stretch out the occasion over as many days as possible, making frequent proclamations of this intention with statements such as "Today is July 1st, the first day of my birth month!" or "I'm having a dance party in my bathroom this morning, to help get me ready for my birthday." To make the week extra-special, I gave myself the chance to try a few recipes I've had in my possession for a while and been dying to try.

First up was a night of midweek cooking with my pal Julia. We started with a summer-perfect chilled fruit soup--supposed to be canteloupe-peach, but we threw in a nectarine because we didn't buy enough peaches--from Mollie Katzen's Enchanted Broccoli Forest. Some bites were a little bit acidic, so we might have been able to add a little more honey, but I was thoroughly pleased.


big bowl of bright, fruity soup

While the soup chilled, we put together this a-maze-ing pesto potato salad with green beans. Super simple, especially because we used lovely storebought pesto from my favorite little Italian market. I think the salad could also stand some halved cherry or grape tomatoes, and Julia noted quite rightly that asparagus, rather than green beans, would also be lovely. Big ups to Julia's iPhone for both photos.


carbs + garlic + veggies = my idea of heaven

And yesterday, I finally (finally!) made panzanella. For at least a couple years, I have had a love affair with the idea of throwing bread in a salad with ripe, juicy tomatoes and glugs of luscious olive oil, and the half loaf of week-old seven grain bread dwelling on the kitchen counter had been begging me to finally give it a shot. In looking for a recipe to try, I found competing theories of how panzanella should be made; some insist that the bread must be toasted or fried briefly with olive oil, and others believe that the bread must still have some softness and give. My gut said not to toast, and going that route meant one less step of work, so I ran with it.

This straightforward recipe was the most appealing one I found. (No pictures, because I didn't take one before we ate, and after dinner there was just a sad amount of leftovers that it didn't do the salad's greatness any justice. Trust me that it was colorful, gorgeous, fragrant and extremely delicious.)

Panzanella
Adapted from Gourmet, August 1993 (found at epicurious.com)
Time: 45 minutes or less

3/4 lb. stale bread, cut into 1-inch cubes (you want 6 c. total)
2 large, ripe tomatoes (about 1 lb.), stem end removed and cut into chunks roughly equal in size to bread pieces
3/4 c. English cucumber, sliced and then cut into quarter slices
1/2 c. thinly sliced red onion
1/2 c. extra-virgin olive oil
2 Tbsp. balsalmic vinegar, or to taste (I thought it could've used more, though 2 Tbsp. seems like a good starting point)
Kosher salt and black pepper to taste
10 basil leaves, shredded or torn or cut into ribbons

Throw everything into a big serving bowl and mix until well combined.


A caveat: I sprinkled the balsalmic over the top of the bread, so some pieces soaked up more than their fair share of vinegar. In the future I'll probably combine the oil and vinegar (and possibly the veggies, too) before combining them with the bread.

Also, my gut told me to mix things up about 30 minutes before we ate, so the bread had a chance to get to know everything else and soften up a bit. This seemed to be a smart move. I took it easy with the salt, then sprinkled some shredded pecorino romano over the top before serving--this was awesome. I also think some cubed sharp provolone would be incredible here.

And the fun don't stop there! Today brings more birthday goodness, in the form of a sweet, slow long run (I'm gunning for 8-9 miles) and a loverly dinner celebration con la familia at Distrito. Happy birthday to ME.

Saturday, June 6, 2009

candies, cake and catchup

Hello, my little bloglets! After a shamefully long hiatus since my last post--a combination of getting a job(!) and really, truly not doing much interesting cooking while spending weekends at friends' apartments, down the shore, etc.--I am back in the saddle.

First things first: Waaaay back in early May, I spent the night before a big race at the apartment of two very dear friends, and I wanted to bring some comestible to thank them for their hospitality. My usual go-to, the cheapest bottle of respectable-looking wine I can find, didn't seem to jive with our plans (carb-load, sleep well, rise early); nor did any baked good I could think of and had time to make. Something delicious, light, perhaps small-portioned was what I needed. I decided on two things: almond-stuffed dates rolled in shredded coconut, and chocolate-dipped dried apricots. (Fruit, no matter how adulterated and dessert-ified, always seems relatively virtuous.) Recipes don't seem to make sense for these guys, but here goes:
  • Almond-stuffed dates rolled in shredded coconut: Use the best dates you can find. (I adore Woodstock Farms's medjools that come in the resealable clear plastic bag.) Remove stem end if necessary, then make a small slit lengthwise along the date with a paring knife (running in the same direction as the pit) and, using the point of the knife to help you, gently pop out the pit without otherwise cutting the flesh of the fruit. Slip one whole almond into the cavity left by the pit, and gently squeeze the two cut sides of the date back together. Roll date in a bowl with some shredded coconut in the bottom to coat. (Not a ton of coconut stuck to my dates, but they were still amazing!)
  • Chocolate-dipped dried apricots: The name pretty much says it all, but here's what I did: I melted most of a bar of Scharffen Berger 70% cacao bittersweet chocolate in my DIY double boiler, then dunked apricots about halfway into the chocolate and laid them on a parchment-lined baking sheet. I ran out of apricots before I ran out of chocolate, at which point I began rooting through the cabinets searching for anything that would (could) be made better by its introduction into melted chocolate. I found quite a few: pretzel nuggets, dried blueberries, coffee beans. All these were dunked, then laid out on the parchment and popped into the fridge to let the chocolate set. The coffee beans actually imparted their flavor into the chocolate, which mean that the pretzels I dunked afterward had a hint of coffee--which wasn't awful, but also wasn't so good as the pretzels I dunked before the chocolate.
So that was the bulk of my kitchen activity for the month of May. I have kicked things off for June with a bold, daring move: a dessert that most people of my generation have never heard of, to surprise my dad for his birthday yesterday. That dessert is icebox cake, and it both appeals to me for its distinctive, almost science-experimenty preparation (put cookies and whipped cream into the fridge, and out comes a cake!) and horrifies my natural-whenever-possible approach to cooking. This is because the key ingredient is Nabisco Famous Chocolate Wafers, a near-paper-thin chocolate cookie that I keep likening to the outside of an Oreo that, because it was made back when my dad was a tot, undoubtedly contains scary, possibly man-made or -bastardized ingredients. I refused to look closely at the ingredients list which, from a glance, looked alarmingly long. There will probably come a day when my curiosity and healthful-mindedness will drive me to make these cookies from scratch, thanks to the help of my favorite food blogger, but for now, in the name of authenticity and making something for my dad that I know he'd like, I went for the storebought cookies.


Icebox cake and cupcakes
Adapted from: the back of the box of Nabisco Famous Chocolate Wafers, Smitten Kitchen and anectdotal accounts from my dad and Dorothy Noble, my godmother and aunt
Yield: at least one cake, maybe two, depending on how long you make them, or quite a few cupcakes if you go that route

3 c. heavy cream
3 Tbsp. sugar

1 Tbsp. vanilla extract
1 box Nabisco Famous Chocolate Wafers
Unsweetened cocoa powder, for dusting

1. Combine heavy cream, sugar and vanilla, and using an electric mixer, whip on high speed until cream forms soft peaks. (I think this took me only about 2 minutes.)

2. If making icebox cake: Spread about 1/2 Tbsp. whipped cream on the top of one cookie, top with another cookie, spread that cookie's top with 1/2 Tbsp. whipped cream, and continue the process, building a stack on a serving plate or baking pan. (The stack needs to be tall enough that it can support itself when you stand it on its side, but not so tall that inverting it onto its side is difficult and unwieldy.) When you have a nice little stack going, gently pick it up and set it, horizontally, on its side. Then top another cookie with whipped cream, and affix it to the end of the sideways stack, continuing until you have a long roll. Cover roll with remaining whipped cream. Note: I didn't actually do it this way. This is how you're supposed to do it, but in a fit of thriftyness (I don't want to waste any of these cookies!) and curiosity (I stupidly decided to use this wide loaf pan... I wonder how I can best take advantage of its space?), I made two rows of slightly overlapping cookies with whipped cream in between, to make a kind of double-wide roll.

3. If making icebox cupcakes: It's a good idea to start with big cupcake papers. Sort of open/flatten the papers a bit (the diameter of the cookies will probably exceed the diameter of the bottom of the papers), and set out several on a cookie sheet. Spread about 1/2 Tbsp. whipped cream on the top of one cookie, top with another cookie, spread that cookie's top with 1/2 Tbsp. whipped cream, and continue the process, building a stack of about 3-5 cookies, depending on how big you want them. Plop each little stack into a cupcake paper, then move on to the next. The photo above shows the three junior cupcakes I made with the whipped cream and cookies remaining after I'd filled my big loaf pan.

4. Dust (cup)cake(s) with cocoa powder, cover with plastic wrap and refrigerate overnight. Or, as my aunt says, "as long as it takes for the cookies to soften," which is the whole point--the crisp cookies gain moisture from the whipped cream (and probably their overnight stay in the chill chest) and achieve a cakelike consistency. It tastes like ice cream sandwiches. It is AWESOME. Even if, like me, you really don't know what you're doing, it ends up being really tasty and retro-feeling.


Of course, when my pops ate his slice, he said, "It's good." Momentary pause for consideration, then: "But it's not exactly how my mother made it. I think she actually put it in the freezer for a while." None of my recipes had told me to do so, but I'll give you one guess of where the leftovers are going to hang out.

Oh, PS: At some point in the last month, I made a strawberry smoothie. I don't know how I made it, and I hadn't even remember that I made it, until I found the photo on my camera. I have a feeling that yogurt, maybe some milk and a little wheat germ were also invited to the party, but as for quantities or specifics, your guess is as good as mine.