woo wee, what a weekend

It wasn't particularly fabulous or interesting (or, at least, according to people whose lives aren't so mundane as mine), but it was full of good things: a dinner date and mall trip with Mom, my return to running after three days of nursing a very painfully strained/pulled glute, a hailstorm (!) last night, and watching "Vicky Christina Barcelona" with a friend last night. Best of all, I had enough time, energy and inspiration to cook at home on both Saturday and Sunday. Both were new recipes, so both get a shout-out here.

[saturday]
Fish is what I was craving, and so fish is what we had. Lately, I've had swordfish on the brain; when I was younger, it was a summertime supper staple, but it fell off our family's map for reasons not totally clear. (I think, and my dad agrees, that we made it too much and just got sick of it.) I hadn't had it in forever, but given that I enjoy so many kinds of seafood, I suspected that I would still enjoy it. With Mark as our guide, we marinated a 1 lb. swordfish steak (hello, huge hunka fish!) in 2 Tbsp. soy sauce and the juice of 1 lime for 30 minutes, then grilled it and served it with lemon slices. Our veg was asparagus--drizzled in olive oil, sprinkled with salt and pepper, grilled until charred and delicious looking--and we had some of that huge batch of couscous salad I made earlier in the week.

The verdict on swordfish: My, it is meaty! I was really surprised by the meatiness. I don't know how else to explain it, except that it was good.

[sunday]
After Saturday's dinner, my dad announced that he would like to eat something spicier for dinner on Sunday. At first I thought he meant literally something more spicy, and so did he, but after a bit of brainstorming together, he explained that he meant anything more interesting (metaphorically spicy, then) than Saturday night's relatively easy, tasty but unadventurous meal. Much cookbook browsing yielded the following pork recipe, paired with barley pilaf (barley, sauteed red onion, salt, pepper and dried thyme) and grilled radicchio (extra virgin olive oil, salt and pepper). We'd planned on baby bok choy, but when we couldn't find any at Whole Foods, Dad suggested we pick up some of the beautiful little heads of radicchio displayed before us. Grilling it added a lot of smokiness to the expected bitterness, which was awesome.

above: beautiful and tasty grilled radicchio
(pork not pictured because meat is ugly)

Note: This breaks the pork rule! I do like pork tenderloin, because it's so lean and, well, tastes like chicken if you ask me.

Grilled pork tenderloin with mustard curry
Adapted from Mark Bittman
Time: about 30 minutes, plus time to preheat grill
Serves 3-4

2 Tbsp. Dijon mustard
2 Tbsp. curry powder
Salt and freshly ground black pepper to taste
1 1/4 lb. pork tenderloin, in 1 piece
Fruit chutney (Mark suggests recipes for a stone fruit chutney and a corn and tomato relish contained elsewhere in the book, but because stone fruits, corn and tomatoes aren't yet in season, I used storebought Major Grey's chutney, which has mango and ginger and a nice kick of heat)

1. Preheat grill.

2. Combine mustard, curry powder, salt and pepper in a small bowl, and rub all over meat to coat. Grill, turning to brown all sides, abput 10-15 minutes, until meat is nearly cooked through but still pink in the very center. (The internal temperature of the center should not exceed 145 degrees Fahrenheit.)

3. Remove from heat and let rest 10 minutes before slicing into 1/2-inch thick pieces. Serve with chutney.

Warning: If you choose to grill the meat indoors, as we did, it might get smoky! We had to open the kitchen windows, then the back door . . .

. . . and then the front door, too.

The leftover radicchio and pork made their way into my lunchtime salad yesterday along with the rest of the asparagus from Saturday (blanched this time) and the dregs of the couscous salad, plus romaine, thawed frozen corn kernels and alfalfa sprouts. One of the best parts of cooking on the weekend is having lots of wonderful leftovers during the week!

an old friend

I'm in a lunch rut. A rut defined by the same old things, day in and day out, which are things I can and do frequently make for breakfast and/or dinner as well: peanut butter sandwiches (with or without banana, honey or raisins), cottage cheese on toasted English muffins, yogurt and granola, oatmeal. I need something exciting, healthful and lightly filling to mix up my lunch routine, because recycling my breakfast menu just hasn't been satisfying me. Enter my old friend, the curried couscous salad.

While working in the retail world a few years ago, I came across the recipe while flipping through one of the Barefoot Contessa cookbooks during some down time, and immediately scribbled it down on a scrap of paper to try at home. It's been probably a year or more since I last made it, and while it doesn't exactly count as a new recipe (which are the only ones I originally intended to post here), I'd forgotten how good it is. It's so much more satisfying than I expect it to be and, in terms of preparation, really quite idiot-proof. And because this is my blog, I get to make up and break the rules whenever I want!

Some notes:

• I use fat-free strained Greek-style yogurt, because that's the kind I buy. I find the dish prepared this way quite richly flavored, and I cannot imagine that it suffers from not using some-fatted yogurt. Go with your gut on this one ... or with whatever's in your fridge. If using strained yogurt, take extra care to mix the dressing thoroughly into the couscous, as it will be thicker than if using regular yogurt.
  
• On my hand-written recipe I noted that you can use currants or dried cranberries rather than raisins; I'm not sure if this is an Ina note or a Me note. I happen to hate currants, and the cranberries seem too sweet to me with the other ingredients, but I thought I should mention it.
  
• The original recipe calls for red onion, which I find too severe in this dish, not to mention also a bit unkind to the breath and perhaps not desirable if you will be eating this at the office. But if you are a die-hard lover of red onion, or if you want to stick it to your boss, go right ahead and use it.
  

Curried couscous salad
Adapted from Ina Garten
Makes ~7 cups, so serves at least 7 as a side
Time: 10 minutes if you're really organized or 20-25 if you're scattered like I am

1 1/2 c. water
1 Tbsp. plus 1/4 c. extra-virgin olive oil
1 1/2 c. couscous
1/4 c. plain yogurt
1 tsp. white wine vinegar
1 tsp. curry powder
1/4 tsp. turmeric
1 1/2 tsp. kosher salt
1 tsp. black pepper
1/2 c. small-diced carrots
1/2 c. minced flat-leaf parsley
1/2 c. raisins
1/4 c. sliced almonds
2 scallions, thinly sliced (both green and white parts)
1/4 c. small-diced red onion, optional

1. Bring water and 1 Tbsp. oil to a boil. Meanwhile, place couscous in a large bowl or pot that has a lid (or which you can fully cover with a plate). When water and oil are boiling, pour over couscous. Cover tightly and allow to soak 5 minutes.

2. Meanwhile, whisk together remaining oil, yogurt, vinegar, curry powder, turmeric, salt and pepper. When couscous is finished soaking, fluff with a fork, then pour dressing over couscous and stir to mix.

3. Add carrots, parsley, raisins, almonds, scallions and onion (if using). Stir to combine, and adjust seasonings if necessary. Serve at room temperature.

holy crap these are good

For a few weeks now I have had the craziest craving for what I now know to be seven-layer bars, but until very recently I didn't know what they were called. Because I grew up in a non-baking household (read: my mother has made it her goal never to bake anything), I've never eaten these bars at home. I probably had them at a picnic or one of the countless potlucks organized by my high school lacrosse team, and it's been so many years since I've had them that I wouldn't know where to turn for a recipe. Since starting to cook, I have become more curious in what I'm eating and how it's been prepared, but because any seven-layer bars I've had were probably devoured in my pre-cooking years, my memory of them is hazy--beyond chocolate chips, coconut and sweetness, I couldn't tell you a thing about them. Without a doubt, my musings about chocolate and coconut from earlier in the week stemmed from having this on my brain.

All this changed on Friday, when the Spring/Summer 2009 issue of my alma mater landed in my mailbox. I was giving the issue a cursory skim while watching a riveting episode of (what else) Law & Order when I saw it: a recipe for that sweet, square-shaped delight that had been running through my brain! Rejoice! They're super easy to make--even my mom offered to help out!--and better than I remembered.

Seven-layer bars
Adapted from Philadelphia Home, Spring/Summer 2009
Time: 35-40 minutes
Yield: This depends on how small or large you cut them (I made them very small, as they are super sweet and super rich!)

1 1/2 c. crushed graham crackers (this was 9 full sheets, or a third of a box)
1/2 c. unsalted butter melted
3/4 c. grain-sweetened chocolate chips
3/4 c. peanut butter chips
1/2 c. sliced almonds
1 c. dried cranberries
1 c. sweetened condensed milk
3/4 c. flaked coconut

1. Preheat oven to 350 degrees Fahrenheit. Prepare an 8- or 9-inch square baking pan with a thin layer of vegetable oil or butter. (I used my Misto sprayer.)

2. In a medium bowl, thoroughly combine graham cracker crumbs and butter. Pour crumb mixture into the prepared pan and with a flat-bottomed drinking glass or measuring cup, pack crumbs into a firm layer.

3. Combine chocolate and peanut butter chips, and spread over crumbs, pressing firmly into crumb layer with your hands.

4. Sprinkle a layer of almonds over chips, and then sprinkle a layer of dried cranberries over almonds. Pour sweetened condensed milk over everything, and top with a layer of coconut.

5. Bake 25 minutes, then place on a rack to cool completely before cutting into bars. (This means completely. Like, more than an hour. I cut into it after an hour of cooling, and it was still melty and gooey, which was very nice and delicious but not at all bar-like.)

The recipe concludes with, "Do not refrigerate. Can be kept overnight." Which makes me think the author means that they can't survive longer than that. But based on the sampling I did this morning (in the name of kitchen research and blogging accuracy, I swear!), they're still doing fine after a day and a half. I've stored them in a cookie tin.

My room for improvement: The bottom layer was a little mushy and fell apart easily; next time, I might bake the graham cracker crumbs for a bit before layering on the other ingredients (or either up the amount of graham crackers or reduce the amount of butter). Also, while I appreciate the nutritional benefits of the dried cranberries, I'll probably reduce the quantity (or substitute with another dried fruit) next time. Finally, I mistakenly bought shredded, not flaked, coconut, and I imagine I would prefer the texture of more substantial pieces of coconut.

potatoes poupon

While looking through the recipe box this morning to find inspiration for this weekend's meals, I came across the potatoes Poupon recipe I promised to post a few weeks ago and realized I'd failed to do so! I ran upstairs to the computer immediately to remedy this. This dish is so simple and so quick, the results are so delicious, and it feels somehow fancy, so it's perfect when having guests over (but not stressing out about making a full-blown meal for them). Because the recipe serves four, we usually have leftovers, which I like to add, either cold or reheated, into salads. Mmm!

Potatoes Poupon
[I don't have a clue where this recipe comes from. I imagine we got it off the back of some package, but when I transferred the recipe to an index card 100 years ago, I didn't write down the source.]
Time: 45-50 minutes
Serves 4

1/3 c. Grey Poupon dijon mustard (or any kind of dijon, really)
2 Tbsp. olive oil
1 clove garlic, chopped
1/2 tsp. Italian seasoning (see note)
6 medium (about 2 lb.) red skin potatoes, cut into chunks

1. Preheat oven to 425 degrees Fahrenheit. Prepare a shallow baking sheet or a 13-by-9-inch baking pan with a light coating of oil, or use a nonstick pan. Set aside.
2. Combine all ingredients except potatoes in a small bowl.
3. Place potatoes in a large bowl or Ziplock bag, add mustard mixture and toss to coat potatoes.
4. Place potatoes in pan. Bake, stirring occasionally, 35-40 minutes or until potatoes are fork-tender.

Note about Italian seasoning: I don't have Italian seasoning. If you are like me, you can make a mixture of basil, oregano, marjoram, rosemary, thyme, sage and savory (if you have it--I didn't). This list came from some emergency Googling, when I was partway through the marinade and realized I didn't have the stupid spice blend. Googling yields a bunch of opinions about what's really in Italian seasoning, so I don't know that there's a single, official definition of it. Use some or all of these, and you'll be fine.

love/hate

I was wasting time yesterday afternoon watching a show on the Food Network whose name I shall not utter because I really don't like the host, the food the host makes, and the host's ridiculous hairdos. However, toward the end of the episode she made a cocktail, a quasi-mojito made with coconut milk and coconut rum, that inexplicably appealed to me. Inexplicably, because I avoid coconut like the plague. The flavor doesn't appeal to me, and the texture of it makes me feel like I'm chewing dental floss and/or paper. Don't encrust my fish in it, don't top my brownies with it, and don't you dare give me a pina colada, under any circumstances.

However! I like chocolate-dipped macaroons. Riddle me that! I don't like coconut's flavor in most foods and beverages, but slap a whole ton of the stuff together, dunk it in some chocolate, and I could eat it all day long. Later yesterday, I was picking up some food for dinner at Whole Foods and, lo, I discovered this Larabar flavor:

That befuddling coconut found its way into my life for a second time in less than a day, and something about it sounded good. I bought the bar and ate it for breakfast this morning, and it was awesome. What gives, coconut? Why do I hate you so much, except for when I adore you? My theory right now is that the chocolate/coconut combo is what makes it great, but I also think that sounds ridiculous, even when I consider the magical properties I know chocolate to possess. If chocolate can make me like coconut, could it also make me like bacon? Wow, that sounds nasty. (Also, the chocolate theory doesn't explain my interest in the coconut mojito I saw on TV.)

In conclusion, this post is in lieu of one about actual cooking, because I've not done much of it this week, other than a batch of wheatberries on Monday (some of which I added to my oatmeal with chewily delicious results) and roasted beets and my very first omelette on Tuesday (I sauteed the beet greens and threw them in the omelette with shredded pecorino romano and a little bit of storebought olive tapenade). A bunch of leftovers in the fridge means I probably won't do much cooking again until the weekend ... but that doesn't mean I can't start thinking about what to make.

recent food adventures

In addition to recording the recipes I try this year, I'm also interested in keeping track of the new foods I've tried and restaurants where I've dined. In no particular order (other than alphabetical) ...

In January and February I tried:

• arctic char
• beef short rib
• black truffle
  
• mustard greens
• raw oysters
• semifreddo (reminded me of freezer-burned ice cream)
• skate
  
• souffle
• sunchoke
• violet jicama
• white anchovies
• white shrimp

And I ate at:

• The Frog and the Peach in New Brunswick, NJ
• LoBianco in Collingswood, NJ
• MiLah Vegetarian in Center City Philadelphia
• Savona in Gulph Mills, PA
  

bad blogger!

I have been delinquent in my blogging duties! Doing my taxes, trying to find a new pair of running shoes, and searching for a job were my priorities this week, so writing here took a backseat. Still, I've been in the kitchen a bit. Last weekend I made a foray into baking yeast bread, and while it feels like a step up from the quickbreads I've done in the past (banana, pumpkin, honey whole wheat) in terms of Kitchen Seriousness--and this is only because it required yeast, which I've never used before--it still doesn't feel like bona fide bread-baking because there was no kneading, punching, folding or proofing.

However, it did yield some amazing, carby deliciousness. Which is really all I needed. The original recipe called for all whole wheat flour; as this was my first time using whole wheat flour (rather than whole-wheat pastry flour, which I use in almost all my baked goods), I didn't know if it would be too intense, or bitter, or something. And because I love the textural variety that cornmeal adds, I thought I'd throw in some of that as well.

Whole wheat bread
Adapted from ZestyCook
Yield: one gargantuan loaf
Time: About 1 hour

1 tsp. honey
2 2/3 c. lukewarm water, divided
4 tsp. dry active yeast
3 Tbsp. molasses
3 c. whole wheat flour
1 1/2 c. whole wheat pastry flour
1/2 c. medium-grind cornmeal
1/2 tsp. salt
1/4 c. wheat germ
1 T. rolled oats

1. Preheat oven to 400 degrees Fahrenheit. Lightly oil a not-too-small loaf pan. (I have two sizes, and I opted for the larger one, whose dimensions I don't know. This is probably the world's least helpful note.)
2. Stir honey into 2/3 c. water. Sprinkle yeast over mixture, and set aside for 10 minutes. All yeast should be dissolved into the liquid. Meanwhile, in a large bowl, sift together flours and cornmeal.
3. Stir molasses into 2/3 c. water, and combine with yeast mixture.
4. Stir yeast mixture into dry ingredients. Add salt, wheat germ and remaining 1 1/3 c. water, and stir until incorporated. Dough will be sticky.
5. Pour dough into prepared pan, smooth top with a spoon or spatula, and sprinkle rolled oats over dough. Allow dough to rise to top of pan.

(dough before rising)



(after about 15 minutes)

6. Bake 30-40 minutes.
7. Cool loaf while still in the pan on a rack for 10 minutes. Then turn loaf out of pan and allow to cool completely on the rack.

The large size of the loaf combined with my utter lack of knife skills meant that I could only hack off thick pieces from the loaf. So I used this to dunk into soups and to make open-faced peanut butter and banana sandwiches. And I loved it!

This was how I spent last Friday morning, and there was minimal cooking for the rest of the day. Saturday, I had dinner out with my parents and favorite aunt and uncle, and Sunday we cooked simple grilled chicken and broiled eggplant with a Middle Eastern recipe from How to Cook Everything for lentils with rice and caramelized onions. I'm not sure whether I made it properly--I was expecting discrete, defined lentils but instead got a mass of mush--so until I know I won't be posting it here.