crashing the last supper

Leftovers.

2011-10-02T06:50:00.000-07:00

No matter how many people you invite, when you make a whole turkey, there will be leftovers.

This is precisely what happened. I had a big tupperware container stuffed with turkey. Never being one for sandwiches, and with a roommate who had made the mistake of going vegan (insert eye roll here), I was forced to be creative.

Luckily, I only had to look to Gourmet (may got rest its soul) for the answers. This "pilaf" is an excellent, excellent lunch or one-dish dinner, but the flavors are totally unexpected. Taking a cue from North Africa and the Mideast, we've got Israeli couscous, cinnamon, allspice, and currants. The yogurt and the proteins (both turkey and chickpeas) balance out the sweet fairly well, but I remember adding lots of salt to this dish.

I'm currently wondering how this might go with chicken or without any meat at all--there seems to be something about the turkey here that just works, though. If I try it, I'll be sure to let you know.

Spiced Couscous and Turkey Pilaf

From Gourmet, November 2008

1/2 cup finely chopped onion
3 tablespoons olive oil
2 cups pearl (Israeli) couscous (10 ounces)
1 teaspoon ground allspice
1/2 teaspoon cinnamon
2 2/3 cups water
1 (19-ounce) can chickpeas, drained and rinsed
1/4 cup currants
1 1/2 cups (1-inch) pieces cooked turkey
1/3 cup packed mint leaves, chopped

Accompaniment: plain yogurt

Cook onion in oil in a 4-quart heavy pot over medium heat, stirring occasionally, until golden, about 10 minutes. Add couscous and spices and cook, stirring, until fragrant, about 1 minute. Add water, chickpeas, currants, and 1 teaspoon salt and simmer, covered, until couscous is just tender, 10 to 12 minutes. Remove from heat. Stir in turkey and let stand, covered, until heated through, about 5 minutes. Stir in mint.

The Rumble.

2011-09-13T18:21:00.000-07:00

I made a whole turkey.

When you've mastered roasting a chicken, and the only place to go is up, turkey is a natural next step. Granted, this is before Thanksgiving, so no one's thinking turkey...yet. Once you read this recipe, you'll be planning ahead.

This was also part of the West Side Story inspired meal I served up to my American Musical Theater class (see below). I can't say enough good things about this turkey. Even for a turkey virgin, it managed to stay moist and cook through in a decent amount of time. It was also super, super flavorful and that gravy was worth every last calorie. I don't know what my family is planning, but this is the only thing I want on our Thanksgiving table this year.

Adobo Turkey with Red-Chile Gravy

from Gourmet, November 2010

For adobo

4 dried guajillo chiles (2 ounces), wiped clean
3 dried ancho chiles (1 1/2 ounces), wiped clean
2 teaspoons cumin seeds
1 (1/2-inch) piece cinnamon stick, smashed
2 whole allspice
1 clove
4 garlic cloves, smashed
1 1/2 teaspoons dried oregano
1 1/2 teaspoons thyme leaves
1/3 cup cider vinegar
3 tablespoons water
2 tablespoons vegetable oil

For turkey and gravy:

1 (12-to 14-pound) turkey, neck and giblets (excluding liver) reserved for turkey stock
2 cups water, divided
1 tablespoon vegetable oil
About 4 cups classic turkey stock , divided
1/3 cup all-purpose flour
Melted unsalted butter if necessary

Equipment: kitchen string; a 17-by 14-inch flameproof roasting pan with a flat rack; a 2-quart measuring cup or a fat separator

Make adobo:
Slit chiles lengthwise, then stem and seed. Heat a large heavy skillet (not nonstick) over medium heat until hot, then toast chiles in batches, opening them flat, turning and pressing with tongs, until more pliable and slightly changed in color, about 30 seconds per batch.

Transfer to a bowl and cover chiles with boiling-hot water, then soak until softened, about 15 minutes.

Meanwhile, toast spices in a small heavy skillet over medium-low heat, stirring frequently, until fragrant, about 3 minutes.

Drain chiles, discarding liquid, and purée in a blender with spices, garlic, herbs, vinegar, water, oil, and 2 teaspoon salt until very smooth, about 1 minute. Set aside 1/2 cup adobo for gravy.

Marinate turkey:
Rinse turkey inside and out and pat dry. Sprinkle 2 teaspoons salt evenly in turkey cavities and all over skin, then rub remaining adobo (a scant 3/4 cup) all over turkey, including cavities. Fold neck skin under body, then tuck wing tips under breast and tie drumsticks together with string. Transfer to rack in roasting pan and marinate, covered with plastic wrap and chilled, at least 8 hours and up to 24.

Roast turkey:
Let turkey stand, covered, at room temperature 1 hour.

Preheat oven to 350°F with rack in lower third.

Add 1 cup water to pan and roast turkey 1 hour.

Brush turkey with oil and add remaining cup water, then tent loosely with foil and rotate pan. Roast (if bottom of pan becomes dry, add 1/2 cup more water) until an instant-read thermometer inserted into fleshy part of each thigh (test both; close to but not touching bone) registers 170°F, 1 3/4 to 2 3/4 hours more (total roasting time: 2 3/4 to 3 3/4 hours).

Carefully tilt turkey so juices from inside large cavity run into pan. Transfer turkey to a platter and let stand, uncovered, 30 minutes (temperature of thigh meat will rise to 175 to 180°F).

Make gravy while turkey stands:
Straddle roasting pan across 2 burners, then add 1 cup turkey stock and boil over high heat, stirring and scraping up brown bits, 2 minutes. Strain pan juices through a fine-mesh sieve into 2-quart measure and skim off fat (or use a fat separator), reserving fat. Add enough turkey stock to liquid to bring total to 5 cups.

Whisk together flour, 6 tablespoon reserved fat (if there is less, add melted butter), and reserved 1/2 cup adobo in a heavy medium saucepan, then cook over medium heat, whisking constantly, 3 minutes (mixture will be thick). Add pan juices and stock in a fast stream, whisking constantly to prevent lumps. Bring to a boil, whisking, then simmer, whisking occasionally, until thickened, 10 to 15 minutes. Season with salt.

Serve turkey with gravy.

When you're a jet.

2011-09-12T20:21:00.000-07:00

Continuing with the series of posts from musical theater listening quiz parties, we have the Poblano potatoes au gratin. This recipe was for "West Side Story", where I hosted a Puerto Rican inspired (or at the very least, Mexican) Thanksgiving. I couldn't imagine a more symbolic holiday for immigrants, and the fact that Gourmet (may it rest in peace) already planned it made that much easier to pull off.

We'll get to the rest of the menu eventually, but these potatoes were off the chain. I know that I put too many potatoes in and used some milk to make up for this, but they still managed to turn out. Friends who are "bad at cooking": Take note.

I had a gas stove in the apartment on Diamond street, so roasting the poblano peppers was easy. I know that there were pepper-ashes all over the stove for at least a week, but it was fun and fairly easy to do. When I discover a method to use with my electric oven, I'll be sure to pass it along.

This recipe was also another reason I love my mandoline slicer. Few things make me happier than a thinly-sliced vegetable. Invest in one as soon as humanly possible.

Finally, roasting the peppers, using the mandoline, and building the gratin are great technique builders. The recipe is fairly easy, but the dish looks and tastes impressive.

Poblano Potatoes Au Gratin

Serves 8

From Gourmet: In Mexican cuisine, rajas refers to thin strips of roasted chiles. Although they commonly spice up everything from stews to tamales, rajas are best when adding a kick to creamy dishes. Here, forest-green poblanos lend a mild, almost fruity heat to a potato gratin

1 1/2 pounds fresh poblano chiles (about 5)
1 pound onions, cut lengthwise into 1/4-inch strips
1 tablespoon vegetable oil
3 pounds large Yukon Gold potatoes
1 1/2 cups heavy cream
3/4 cup whole milk

Roast chiles and make rajas:
Roast chiles on their sides on racks of gas burners on high, turning with tongs, until skins are blackened all over, about 10 minutes. Immediately transfer to a bowl and let stand, covered tightly, 10 minutes.

When chiles are cool enough to handle, peel or rub off skin. Slit chiles lengthwise, then stem, seed, and devein. Cut lengthwise into thin strips.

Cook onions with 1 teaspoon salt in oil in a 12-inch heavy skillet over medium-low heat, stirring occasionally, until golden, about 8 minutes. Stir in chiles and remove rajas from heat. Reserve 1/2 cup rajas for topping.

Make gratin:
Preheat oven to 400°F with rack in middle. Generously butter a 3-quart shallow baking dish.

Peel potatoes, then cut crosswise into 1/16-inch-thick slices with slicer. Transfer to a small heavy pot. Add cream, milk, and 1 teaspoon salt and bring just to a boil over medium heat, stirring occasionally (liquid will thicken). Stir in rajas, then pour mixture evenly into baking dish. Sprinkle reserved 1/2 cup rajas on top.

Bake until potatoes are tender, 45 minutes to 1 hour. Let stand 15 minutes before serving.

A person can develop a cold.

2011-08-22T16:09:00.000-07:00

I'm back to blogging because the rest of my life is work. I need to remember that I used to have hobbies and things I liked to do for fun.

In my second-to-last semester of college I took a class called American Musical Theater. Those of you who know me know I love a good showtune. In order to study for listening quizzes and make friends, I decided to host listening quiz parties. The class would be invited over to listen to the soundtrack of the week and eat a themed meal. Oh yes, you read right: A themed meal.

So, "Oklahoma!": Tequila Sunrises (Oh, What A Beautiful Morning...), BBQ Popcorn (...corn is as high as an elephant's eye), Grilled Corn and Avocado Salad with a Chipotle Ceasar (the farmer), a hearty beef chili (the cowman), and a Pear-Butterscotch pie ("why did you take the trouble to bake my favorite pie?").

And then..."Guys and Dolls". Adelaide develops a cold due to not being married, so I made a chicken soup. She also is a Hot Box Chick, and loves him a "bushel and a peck"...Yeah, I got into it. The rest of the menu included spiked lemonade, cuban sandwiches, and a New York Cheesecake. Those of you who know "Guys and Dolls" will get the references.

But literally, this soup is the best Chicken Noodle I've ever made or had. I also totally made it up as I went along.

Adelaide's Lament Chicken Noodle

A Whole Chicken, 5 to 8 lbs

1 Lemon, cut into quarters

1/2 cup white wine

Parsley

1 Large Onion, diced

Carrots, about 6, diced

Celery, about 6 stalks, diced

2 cloves garlic, minced

1-2 bay leaves

1 t rosemary

1 t thyme

Salt and pepper, to taste

Chicken Stock, 10-16 cups

1 lb wide egg noodles

1. Roast the chicken. My preferred method is to lather the chicken with a few tablespoons of butter, salt, and pepper and place the lemon in the cavity of the bird. Add whatever herbs you have handy inside, too. A little dried rosemary and thyme go a long way here, too. I roast my chicken in a dutch oven I bought at a thrift store ages ago--I recommend the same. You'll make the soup in the same pot. Your chicken will probably roast for 2 or so hours.

2. Remove the chicken from the dutch oven and place the dutch oven, with all the drippings, on the stove top. I'll fully admit that this isn't a healthy recipe. Pour in the wine and let the "gravy" reduce. This sauce is the base of the soup that makes it so flavorful.

3. Add the vegetables and garlic. Let them cook down for a few minutes, until the onions are translucent and the carrots and celery start to soften. Meanwhile, chop the chicken into bite-size pieces.

4. Add herbs, salt and pepper. Start slow, you can add later.

5. Add the chicken stock. I'm pretty sure I used homemade for this one, and it's worth it. Needs more salt, but so delightfully delicious (and free!).

6. Bring the stock to a boil. Add the egg noodles and cook according to directions. Add the chicken when the noodles are about done--it only needs to re-heat.

Remember, soup is an art. You add what you want; taste and change as you go. This is a more classic chicken noodle, but I can imagine roasting the chicken with Five Spice powder or chili-garlic sauce, spiking the sauce with saki and adding lots of miso to the broth. I've been dying to find ways to use more rice noodles, too.

Birthday Cupcakes.

2011-03-26T10:30:00.000-07:00

Today's post, loosely related to birthdays, is dedicated to the fabulous Alexandra Whitney, who celebrated a birthday this week AND is the reason this blog exists. You should check out her blog for a photo of the cupcakes I talk about below.

I have always had the best jobs in the world. How often does one get assigned "make cupcakes"? The correct answer is twice--and I'm not even including the number of times I've been asked to make muffins.

On this occassion we were celebrating two birthdays. I find that when I make birthday anything for anyone I always appreciate specifics. Jordan, for example, requested peanut butter and chocolate. It was easy for me to go above and beyond with a chocolate drizzle and some crunchy peanuts (see top image). My friends, those were some bangin' cupcakes.

The other cupcakes were a lackluster vanilla with chocolate ganache. I hadn't yet discovered my favorite vanilla cupcake recipe, which I will now share with you.

I have been making these vanilla cupcakes all the ever-lovin' time. They are my go-to, my signature simple dessert. They tow the line between light and airy and rich and dense, living in some kind of perfect cupcake utopia. I often use this recipe for mini-cupcakes, and if I make the larger version, they almost always get some kind of filling (jam, pastry cream, etc). I suspect most of you have a favorite frosting, but the Magnolia Bakery Vanilla Buttercream is to die for (thank God for Martha Stewart).

I still haven't found the perfect chocolate cupcake recipe. Any suggestions?

Magnolia Bakery Vanilla Cupcakes

Makes about 2 dozen

1 1/2 cups self-rising flour
1 1/4 cups all-purpose flour
1 cup (2 sticks) unsalted butter, softened
2 cups sugar
4 large eggs, at room temperature
1 cup milk
1 teaspoon pure vanilla extract

Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Line two 12-cup muffin tins with paper liners; set aside. In a small bowl, combine flours; set aside. In the bowl of an electric mixer fitted with the paddle attachment, cream butter until smooth and creamy. Gradually add sugar, beating until fluffy, about 3 minutes. Add eggs, one at a time, beating well after each addition. Add dry ingredients in 3 parts, alternating with the milk and vanilla, and scraping down sides of bowl in between each addition; beat until ingredients are incorporated but do not overbeat.
Divide batter evenly among liners, filling about three-quarters full. Bake, rotating pan halfway through, until a cake tester inserted in the center comes out clean, 20 to 25 minutes.
Transfer to a wire rack to cool in tins for 15 minutes. Remove cupcakes from tins, and cool completely on rack. Once cupcakes have cooled, use a small offset spatula to frost tops of each cupcake. Serve at room temperature.

Cruelty.

2011-03-24T21:08:00.000-07:00

I know, I'm being cruel.

This is a summer salad. It's from the June 2009 issue of Gourmet. I probably made it for the first time sometime around June of this past year. It has, however, been a mainstay in my limited salad repertoire.

It made it's most notable appearance at a dinner party themed around the musical "Oklahoma". This dish, coupled with a bowl of hearty beef chili, made up the main course called "The Farmer and Cowman", named for the second act opener. More on that meal later.

Even though it snowed today, I don't hesitate posting this salad. Is it optimism? Is spring really coming? No. I just know avocados are available in supermarkets, this dressing is great, and one could easily replace the corn. Grilled pineapple, roasted red peppers and tomatoes would all be viable options.

Also, I don't have a grill. I have a grill pan. I use it all the time; it was a great investment (and only $16 or so, if I remember correctly!). You'll be shocked how grilling the avocado elevates their buttery texture and creaminess.

Romaine, Grilled Avocado and Smoky Corn Salad with Chipotle Caesar Dressing

Serves 4-6

Gourmet, June 2009

1/4 cup grated parmesan
1/2 cup extra-virgin olive oil
1/4 cup fresh lime juice
1 teaspoon minced garlic
1 tablespoon minced canned chipotle chiles in adobo
3 tablespoons vegetable oil
2 ears of corn, shucked
2 firm-ripe 6-to 8-ounces avocados, halved and pitted but not peeled
1 head romaine (1 pound), tough outer leaves discarded and head quartered lengthwise, then cut crosswise into 1-inch strips

Put parmesan in a medium bowl and add olive oil in a slow stream, whisking. Whisk in lime juice, garlic, chipotles, and 1/4 teaspoon each of salt and pepper.

Rub vegetable oil on corn and cut sides of avocados, then season with 1/8 teaspoon each of salt and pepper. Grill avocados, cut sides down, and corn, turning corn occasionally, until golden-brown, 3 to 4 minutes.

Peel avocados and thinly slice. Cut corn kernels from cobs.

Toss romaine with dressing and serve topped with avocado and corn.

Seriously, spring.

2011-03-22T07:44:00.000-07:00

I'm wearing a wool scarf today. It is not okay.

Granted, I'm almost done with a cotton version of the same over-sized, kerchief-style cowl I've been sporting all winter. I was anticipated warmer weather. I was anticipating a change in the grocery store's produce.

Alas, it is the same sad, wilted collection week and after week. Not to say I haven't been buying up citrus and all manner of root vegetables, but I need a little more green in my life. The unfortunate thing is that what green there is available at the ironically titled "Fresh Grocer" is not only desperate looking, it's also ridiculously overpriced.

I kid you not when I say $5 for a bunch of asparagus. It's probably imported from South America or something. My locavore heart breaks every time.

But since it's almost April, I have faith we'll see reasonably priced, locally grown asparagus soon (aside: can I grow asparagus in my apartment? Or outside it? Who wants to tackle this one?). And when we do, you'll be ready.

I love how the way the vegetable is cut colors the entire dish. If you've eaten dinner at our house in spring time, you're more than likely to be served asparagus that's simply been thrown under the broiler for ten or so minutes with a little olive oil, salt and pepper. But even that (delicious at is. And believe me, it is) gets old. This is asparagus, only MORE FUN! It's on pizza, for Christ's sake (and mean that)!

Shaved Asparagus Pizza

from Smitten Kitchen, of course

Makes 1 thin crust 12-inch pizza

Pizza dough: we always use this one from Mario Batali with white wine and honey
1/2 pound asparagus
1/4 cup grated Parmesan
1/2 pound mozzarella, shredded or cut into small cubes
2 teaspoons olive oil
1/2 teaspoon coarse salt
Several grinds black pepper
1 scallion, thinly sliced

Sprinkle of red pepper flakes, squeeze of lemon, optional

Preheat your oven to the hottest temperature it goes, or about 500 in most cases. If you use a pizza stone, have it in there.

Prepare asparagus: No need to snap off ends; they can be your “handles” as you peel the asparagus. Holding a single asparagus spear by its tough end, lay it flat on a cutting board and using a vegetable peeler (a Y shaped peeler works best here, ours is from Ikea), create long shavings of asparagus by drawing the peeler from the base to the top of the stalk. Repeat with remaining stalks and don’t fret some pieces are unevenly thick (such as the end of the stalk, which might be too thin to peel); the mixed textures give a great character to the pizza. Discard tough ends. Toss peelings with olive oil, salt, pepper and red pepper flakes (if using) in a bowl and be sure to try one — I bet you can hardly believe how good raw asparagus can taste.

Assemble and bake pizza: Roll or stretch out your pizza dough to a 12-inch round. Either transfer to a floured or cornmeal-dusted pizza peel (if using a pizza stone in the oven) or to a floured or cornmeal-dusted tray to bake it on. Sprinkle pizza dough with Parmesan, then mozzarella. Pile asparagus on top. Bake pizza for 10 to 15 minutes, or until edges are browned, the cheese is bubbly and the asparagus might be lightly charred. Remove from the oven and immediately sprinkle with scallions and squeeze with lemon juice, then slice and eat.

American As.

2011-03-20T13:42:00.000-07:00

So a long, long time ago, Laura went to Morocco. Upon her return we threw her an epic America-themed homecoming party (I believe the theme was, "Can we welcome Laura back to the States? Amer...I can!"). We had American flag tablecloths and a full menu of American desserts: mini apple pies, ice cream sandwiches (oatmeal cookies sandwiches with peach, Dulce de Leche and vanilla ice creams), chocolate chip cookies and s'mores brownies.

S'mores are distinctly American. I think about campfires and summertime, and despite these brownies being fairly rich fare, they were seasonally appropriate for a June party.

I loved the way the whole marshmallow melted and roasted itself in the oven--a sweet toping for a cakey brownie with spattered with graham cracker pieces (the texture they create is not as jarring as I thought it would be--it was rather delightful).

S'mores Brownies

makes a full 9x13 pan

1 1/2 cups all purpose flour

2 teaspoons baking powder
1 teaspoon salt
1 cup (2 sticks) unsalted butter
6 ounces unsweetened chocolate, chopped
5 large eggs
1 1/4 cups dark brown sugar
1 cup granulated sugar
2 teaspoons vanilla
1 cup graham cracker, roughly crushed with your hands

12 big marshmallows

Preheat oven to 350°F. Butter 9×13-inch baking pan with 2-inch-high sides. Combine first 3 ingredients in small bowl. Stir butter and chocolate in a medium sized bowl over a heavy saucepan of simmering water. Stir chocolate and butter in this double boiler until melted and smooth.

Beat eggs, sugar and vanilla in large bowl to blend. Stir in warm chocolate mixture, then dry ingredients. Fold in graham crackers. Pour batter into prepared pan. Dot with 12 large marshmallows. Bake until toothpick inserted into center comes out with moist crumbs attached, about 30- 40 minutes minutes.

Marshmallows will be browned and puffy but will deflate as the brownies cool. Cool for at least 20 minutes than slice with a sharp knife, cleaning the knife with hot water if it gets too messy and sticky. Serve or wrap individually in wax paper for storing.

Baked Mac and Cheese with Roasted Tomatoes

2010-10-25T12:58:00.000-07:00

Another confession: I love mac and cheese out of a box. Particularly if it's shaped like Scooby or Spiderman. I can, and often do, eat the whole box myself and in one sitting.

But this mac and cheese, that I present to you here, is different. This has complex flavor profiles from the smokiness of the cheese to the acidic zip of the tomato--sweet and sultry from slow-roasting.

I did this on-the-fly one evening, replacing the fontina and gruyere with a smoked gouda. I was shopping at the PathMark near where I work, which is cheaper, but not that well stocked in terms of cheese. This mac and cheese would be an incredible side to fried (or baked) chicken, though it does quite nicely alone. The tomatoes also are great alone, or in salads, sandwiches, and other pasta dishes.

Baked Mac and Cheese with Roasted Tomatoes

FOR TOMATOES

6 small tomatoes, sliced crosswise into 1/4-inch-thick rounds
2 tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil
Coarse salt and freshly ground pepper
1 teaspoon fresh thyme leaves
FOR PASTA
Coarse salt
8 ounces dried elbow macaroni
FOR BREAD CRUMBS
6 slices white sandwich bread, crusts removed
2 tablespoons unsalted butter, melted
FOR SAUCE AND CHEESE TOPPING
3 tablespoons unsalted butter, plus more for baking dishes
1/4 cup finely diced yellow onion
1/4 cup all-purpose flour
3 cups whole milk
5 ounces smoked Gouda cheese
6 ounces extra-sharp white-cheddar cheese, grated (2 cups), 1/3 cup reserved for topping
2 ounces Parmigiano-Reggiano cheese, grated (1 cup), 1/2 cup reserved for topping
Coarse salt and freshly ground black pepper
1/8 teaspoon cayenne pepper
1/8 teaspoon freshly grated nutmeg

1. Roast tomatoes: Preheat oven to 400 degrees. Place tomato slices on rimmed baking sheets in a single layer. Drizzle with olive oil; season with salt and pepper and sprinkle with thyme leaves. Transfer to oven and roast until softened and browned in spots, about 20 minutes.

2. Heat oven and boil pasta: Heat oven to 375 degrees. Bring a large pot of water to a boil, then add salt generously and cook pasta 2 to 3 minutes less than manufacturer's instructions (the outside should be cooked but the inside underdone. Transfer to a colander, rinse under cold running water, and drain well.

3. Meanwhile, make bread crumbs: Tear bread into large pieces and pulse a few times in a food processor to form very large crumbs. Transfer to a bowl, and add melted butter. Toss evenly to coat.

4. Prepare baking dishes: Butter eight 6-ounce shallow baking dishes or one 1 1/2-quart baking dish.

5. Make cheese sauce: Melt butter in a 4-quart pot over medium heat, add onion, and cook, stirring occasionally, until translucent, about 5 minutes. Whisk in flour and cook, stirring with a wooden spoon, until bubbling but not browning, about 45 seconds. Add milk and whisk to combine. Bring to a simmer, stirring with a wooden spoon (scrape across the bottom and around edge of pot to prevent scorching), until thickened, about 4 minutes. Add gouda, 1 2/3 cups grated cheddar, and 1/2 cup Parmigianno-Reggiano, stirring until completely melted and sauce is smooth. Season with salt and pepper, add cayenne and nutmeg, and stir to combine.

6. Assemble and add cheese topping: Add pasta to sauce and stir to thoroughly combine. Pour into prepared baking dishes and sprinkle evenly with the reserved cheeses, followed by the bread crumbs. If using, top with roasted tomato slices and thyme.

7. Bake: Place dishes on a parchment-lined baking sheet and bake until bubbling and cheese is golden brown, 25 to 30 minutes. Let cool 5 minutes before serving.

More Tomatoes: Simple Roasted Tomato Sauce

2010-10-16T09:16:00.000-07:00

I literally just sliced up the tomatoes, drizzled them with olive oil, salt, and pepper, and popped them in a 400 degree oven with a clove or two of garlic for a little while. Once they were good and melty (about 20 minutes), I took them out, mashed them up, and used them to top linguine.

Served with a side salad and balsamic, it was a quick weeknight dinner for us.

More Tomatoes: Pasta Bake

2010-10-13T14:38:00.000-07:00

Okay, so after I gave a big speech about my tomato conversion, I have another confession to make. I hate oregano.

This presents a problem when making the following dish, a recipe from Giada, with a quarter cup of oregano. As any good cook would do (I assume), I just left it out and relied on the fresh tomatoes from my dad's garden to shine through.

But as any great cook would do (I would know), I took it a step further. I added cheese.

This is a great baked pasta dish, with plenty of fresh tomato flavor. It's quick and easy, too. Julia and I enjoyed it immensely.

Pasta a la Formiana
Serves 4

Butter, for greasing dish
1 (28-ounce) can crushed tomatoes
2 cloves garlic, minced
1/2 pound (8 ounces) mezze penne or other small pasta
1/3 cup olive oil, plus extra for drizzling
1/4 cup grated parmesan
2 teaspoons kosher salt
1/2 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper
4 to 5 very ripe, extra-large or beefsteak tomatoes, cut into 1/2-inch thick slices

Put an oven rack in the center of the oven. Preheat the oven to 450 degrees F. Butter an 8 by 8-inch glass baking dish. Set aside.
Using a food processor (or your potato masher, as I did), combine the garlic and crushed tomatoes. Pour into a medium bowl and add the uncooked pasta, 1/3 cup olive oil, half the cheese, salt, and pepper. Toss until all the ingredients are coated.
Line the bottom and sides of the baking dish with tomato slices. Pour the pasta mixture into the pan and spread evenly. Arrange the remaining tomato slices in an overlapping layer on top of the pasta mixture, making sure the mixture is completely covered. Drizzle with olive oil and top with the rest of the cheese. Bake until the tomatoes are slightly crispy and the pasta is cooked, about 1 hour. Remove from the oven and cool for 5 minutes before serving.

Fresh Tomatoes.

2010-10-10T08:45:00.000-07:00

Growing up, I loathed tomatoes. You couldn't get me near one. Every raw tomato--sour, grassy and filled with with goop and seeds. I remember picking them off of sandwiches, eating around them if they'd show up in salad.

My dad, of course, grew them in our backyard. Back then I wondered why you'd waste half a garden on them, but now I'm glad that whenever I visit, I get to bring a few dozen home. Obviously, I've collected a few tomato recipes that might help you use up the last of the tomato crop.

At the beginning of the summer though, making these BLT's was all about the cheese--not the tomatoes. I read "smoked blue cheese" and nearly lept out of my chair running towards DiBruno Brothers.

"BLT" here does not mean "Bacon-Lettuce-Tomato". The bacon in this recipe has been replaced by Rogue River Smokey Blue Cheese, making it a "Blue-Lettuce-Tomato". I know that many of you may think that there is just no replacement for bacon, but the smokey qualities of this cheese makes it hearty enough to stand in, and perhaps even supersede bacon. The blue cheese, which can be a difficult sell due to its intense creaminess and pungency, is well balanced by the freshness of the tomato and the lettuce.

And have I mentioned the mayonnaise? It's rosemary--and good on slathered on everything. We used the leftovers in pasta salad, but I imagine it would be great in chicken salad, too.

This week I'm attempting to post all the tomato recipes I have on hand--and feature two summer desserts that, if you're lucky at the produce stand, you could make this weekend.

Smokey "BLT"

Makes 4 Sandwiches

4 tablespoons Rosemary Mayonnaise, (see below)
8 slices bread (we split good baguettes)
5 ounces Rogue River Smokey Blue cheese
1/4 head romaine lettuce
2 large beefsteak tomatoes, cut into 8 slices

1. Spread a tablespoon of the Rosemary Mayonnaise on 4 slices of bread. Slice the cheese into 1/3" chunks and stack with the lettuce and tomatoes. Top with another piece of bread and enjoy.

Rosemary Mayonnaise
Makes 1 cup

3 tablespoons olive oil
1 teaspoon finely chopped rosemary
1/2 teaspoon grated garlic
3/4 cups mayonnaise (we like the Olive Oil kind)
1/2 teaspoon salt
1/4 teaspoon pepper
1 teaspoon lemon juice

1. Combine the oil, rosemary, and garlic in a small pan over low heat, stirring occasionally and cook until garlic begins to sizzle--about 5 minutes. Remove from heat to cool completely.

2. Stir the mayonnaise, salt, and pepper together in a bowl. Whisk the lemon juice and the olive oil mixture into the mayonnaise until smooth. Stores refrigerated up to 5 days.

Things I have cooked this summer.

2010-09-09T15:46:00.000-07:00

A custard apple in Bangalore

Back in elementary school, I remember being asked what I had done over summer vacation. I can't remember what I said--Cape May, probably. I probably would have talked about theater camp. Maybe I would have mentioned that I did the summer reading program at the public library.

Clearly, I was really cool.

This summer, however, I was all over: Boston, Lancaster, Philadelphia, New York, India. When I was in elementary school, I would never have imagined traveling like I do. It never would have occurred to me that I could. I hadn't even been on a plane.

Now I have frequent-flyer miles to use.

But I don't intend do travel like that again. I neglected my blog, and when I did get time in the kitchen, it was for outrageous parties.

Of course, no photos were taken during any of these parties--I was too busy replenishing the buffet, or having one too many mimosas. But the menus are vividly remembered by all those in attendance.

My favorite our events this summer was a Sunday brunch. We did three tarts and three muffins along with mimosas. The crab and tarragon tarts, as well as the haricot vert, tomato and goat cheese tarts, came from this Gourmet article. The third tart was sweet--lemon curd and strawberries in a pate brisse crust. I made that one up as I went, and trust that y'all could probably figure it out yourselves. If you're curious as to where all these mini tart tins came from, I found an incredible restaurant supply store that specializes in disposable items like paper cocktail napkins, boxes for cookies, paper cups...Philadelphians, I'm talking about the unnamed place at 5th and Bainbridge.

The three muffins were actually three variations on muffins. The first was a corn muffin with a goat cheese frosting. Our second, and perhaps most popular muffin, was the cheddar and herb biscuit with cream cheese. The sweet muffin (or cupcake) was a blueberry cupcake with brown butter maple glaze. All three of these came from Ming Makes Cupcakes. Click on "Savouries" for the first two.

Pulling off a party like this--for twenty, I think--takes some help. And some tricks. So if you're planning on trying a brunch like this, which worked wonderfully for the types of a friends we have (that is, people who pop in and out, like to snack, like to "try things" but would be wary to commit to a whole slice of crab tarragon tart--oh, and who like to dance), here's some advice.

First, get help. Roommate Laura and her then-boyfriend helped me slice strawberries, roll pie tart dough, and ice cupcakes.

Secondly, choose menu items that can be done ahead of time. We baked all the muffins the night before, kept them in the fridge, and had the oven free to bake off the tarts the next morning. If possible, when throwing a party like this, keep the party utensil-free.

Lastly, come up with a solid clean up plan. We had people put their plates in one plastic tub and their glassware in another. That way, things are neatly separated already, and not hogging up your sink.

Other menus centered around lasagna, chicken enchiladas, ethic finger foods, summer fruit cupcakes, and our new grill pan. I plan on posting some of those recipes as I remember them, or rather, get to re-test them.

But in the near future, we need to talk about tomatoes and peaches. Before they're all gone.

2010-05-30T14:47:00.000-07:00

The Arabs used to say,
When a stranger appears at your door,
feed him for three days
before asking who he is,
where he’s come from,
where he’s headed.
That way, he’ll have strength
enough to answer.
Or, by then you’ll be
such good friends
you don’t care.

Let’s go back to that.
Rice? Pine Nuts?
Here, take the red brocade pillow.
My child will serve water
to your horse.

No, I was not busy when you came!
I was not preparing to be busy.
That’s the armor everyone put on
to pretend they had a purpose
in the world.

I refuse to be claimed.
Your plate is waiting.
We will snip fresh mint
into your tea.

"Red Brocade"
Naomi Shihab Nye

I am back, mostly with food for entertaining, some with and some without photos. I've been throwing a dinner party a week all semester, but rarely took photos.

Just bare with me, and we'll get back to sharing recipes, stories and yes, a little Jesus here and there.

Where did April go?

2010-05-05T11:12:00.000-07:00

Dear friends,

I haven't stopped cooking, I've just taken a temporary (and unannounced) hiatus from blogging while I finish finals and cut back on my 40 hours a week at work. Right now I'm reading primary source documents (suicide notes) from the Jonestown Massacre (Ever wonder where "Don't drink the Kool-Aid" came from?). I thought it might be wise to take a break.

I have some incredible treats in store for you, like banana cupcakes with peanut butter frosting.

You read that right.

See you next week!

Love,

Cody.

Snowday.

2010-03-21T11:37:00.000-07:00

Remember those epic snowdays we had last month? I know, it's hard to recall now, seeing as the weather has been absolutely gorgeous the last two weeks (aside from the past three days, that is).

On Wednesday, with no classes and no work, I decided to invite people over for dinner. I made this quiche-like dish for three friends and myself. It really hit the spot. It was homey, filling and filled with all kinds of delicious things--ham, cheese, potatoes, broccoli and heavy cream. There were only four of us, and for a recipe that supposedly feeds 10, we found ourselves with only one piece leftover.

It don't think I've done enough to extol the virtues of quiche. It's great warm, but still good at room temperature. This means if you have notoriously late friends, there's no need to wrestle with when to throw the quiche in. Quiche is also one of those meals that's great at all times of day. I love it at breakfast, brunch, lunch and dinner (sometimes even as a late-night snack). There are also an infinite number of flavor combinations. I've covered zucchini, bacon and gruyere with a hashbrown crust but I also love tomato and goat cheese and anything with onions.

But here, at the request of either Craig or Derrick (I can't remember who asked me), is the recipe for the Ham-and-Potato Bake:

Ham-and-Potato Bake
serves 4 hungry boys
from Everyday Food

Butter, for pan
6 large eggs
1 1/2 cups heavy cream
2 teaspoons coarse salt
1/2 teaspoon ground pepper
2 baking potatoes (about 1 1/4 pounds), peeled
10 ounces sugar-baked ham, thinly sliced (less than 1/4 inch thick)
1 package (10 ounces) frozen broccoli, thawed and squeezed dry with paper towels (I had broccoli in the fridge, so I steamed it briefly and used it)
1/2 cup grated cheddar cheese (2 ounces)

Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Butter a 9-inch-round cake pan (at least 2 inches deep). Line bottom of pan with a parchment-paper round. (My 9-inch-round cake pans aren't this deep, so I used my 8x8" pyrex. It worked perfectly, but its not as pretty.)

In a large bowl, whisk together eggs and cream; season with salt and pepper. Thinly slice potatoes (less than 1/4 inch thick); drop into egg mixture.

Lifting potatoes out of egg mixture, arrange half the potatoes in pan. Layer with ham, broccoli, cheese, and remaining potatoes. Pour egg mixture over top. Press down firmly so that potatoes are fully submerged in egg mixture.

Cover with foil; bake until potatoes are tender, about 1 hour. Uncover; continue baking until golden and set, 30 to 45 minutes more.

Cool 15 to 20 minutes in pan. Run a knife around edge, and carefully invert onto a plate. Peel off parchment. Reinvert, top side up. Slice with a serrated knife.

Salad.

2010-03-12T09:50:00.000-08:00

When I entertain, the choice of salad is usually a no-brainer for me: Pear, Gorgonzola and walnut salad with balsamic vinaigrette. Done.

That's pretty much the recipe. But this past time around, I was under the impression that my dressing had gone bad (actually, it was just too cold) and I needed to make my own balsamic. Luckily, I had a bottle of Balsamic vinegar stashed away that typically only makes an appearance when I need a quick way to dress up a side vegetable (try it! It's also a great way to deglaze a chicken pan). Now, it wasn't a bottle of the Cinnamon Pear Balsamic or the Honey Ginger White Balsamic I tried at Garces Trading Company the other night with Nina, but it was good.

You wouldn't be wrong to assume that dressing or vinaigrette is just oil and vinegar. In fact, you can even use just vinegar. But this recipe uses Dijon, which is one of my all-time favorite ingredients. Actually, one of best tricks for a vegetable side (write this down) is to make a vinaigrette from red wine vinegar, olive oil and Dijon, along with any herb you might have on hand, and toss it on green beans. It's also great on pasta, especially with basil.

Feel free to up the amount of balsamic, as I did.

Balsamic Vinaigrette
makes about 3/4 of a cup

3 tablespoons balsamic vinegar
1 tablespoon Dijon mustard
1 garlic clove, minced
1/2 cup olive oil
Salt and freshly ground pepper

In a small bowl, combine the vinegar, mustard, and garlic. Add the oil in a slow steady stream, whisking constantly. Season with salt and pepper to taste.

Must love brownies.

2010-03-08T14:04:00.000-08:00

At the beginning of the new year, Joy the Baker did a retrospective of her last two blogging years. She said this:

"I’ve been on the other side of love too. The break-up side. Yea…. not as awesome as love. The break-up side of love requires a lot of chocolate pudding. More than you might think actually. True.

Shut up. I made donuts."

It totally hit home for me. But instead of pudding, I'm talking about brownies.

I make it a point to never get too personal here--one of the many reasons Laura and I live together is that if I want to bitch and moan, I just call her into the room. It works for us. Being that Laura has been in Morocco, I have just been eating a lot of my feelings.

Break-ups suck, especially when the situation is complicated. Over the past few months, I have listened to the "Break-Up" episode of This American Life (you can listen here. It is so, so worth it. Phil Collins is interviewed) a million times. And then there were the baked goods.

Banana chocolate chip muffins? Yes. Homemade bread? Yes.

But when I read this recipe for brownies, I knew this was it for me. Simple and full of chocolate and butter.

These brownies don't require you to melt any chocolate. When you have melted chocolate in the batter, there's extra cocoa butter and refined sugar that surely the recipe accounts for, but wouldn't it feel better to know everything that goes into your brownies? Flour, sugar, cocoa powder, eggs, vanilla and butter--that's it for these guys.

I was musing the other day about qualities I'm attracted to. This was inspired by a commercial for Colonial Williamsburg, which sounded like a really great vacation. Aside from "wants to vacation in Colonial Williamsburg", I added "must like brownies". Maybe I'm looking for someone who is more like these brownies--uncomplicated, a little gooey, and rich (only joking. But the brownies are, in fact, rich).

Best Cocoa Brownies
from Smitten Kitchen
Makes 16 larger or 25 smaller brownies

10 tablespoons (1 1/4 sticks, 5 ounces or 141 grams) unsalted butter
1 1/4 cups (9 7/8 ounces, 280 grams) sugar
3/4 cup plus 2 tablespoons (2 7/8 ounces, 82 grams) unsweetened cocoa powder (natural or Dutch-process)
1/4 teaspoon salt (or a heaping 1/4 teaspoon flaky salt, as I used)
1/2 teaspoon pure vanilla extract
2 large eggs, cold
1/2 cup (66 grams, 2 3/8 ounces) all-purpose flour
2/3 cup walnut or pecan pieces (optional)

Position a rack in the lower third of the oven and preheat the oven to 325°F. Line the bottom and sides of an 8×8-inch square baking pan with parchment paper or foil, leaving an overhang on two opposite sides.

Combine the butter, sugar, cocoa, and salt in a medium heatproof bowl and set the bowl in a wide skillet of barely simmering water. Stir from time to time until the butter is melted and the mixture is smooth and hot enough that you want to remove your finger fairly quickly after dipping it in to test. Remove the bowl from the skillet and set aside briefly until the mixture is only warm, not hot. It looks fairly gritty at this point, but don’t fret — it smooths out once the eggs and flour are added. [Note, many people who have tried this recipe have found that this step works just fine in the microwave. Couldn't test this because we don't have one, but it sounds like it would work.]

Stir in the vanilla with a wooden spoon. Add the eggs one at a time, stirring vigorously after each one. When the batter looks thick, shiny, and well blended, add the flour and stir until you cannot see it any longer, then beat vigorously for 40 strokes with the wooden spoon or a rubber spatula. Stir in the nuts, if using. Spread evenly in the lined pan.

Bake until a toothpick plunged into the center emerges slightly moist with batter, 20 to 25 minutes is Medrich’s suggestion but it took me at least 10 minutes longer to get them set. Let cool completely on a rack. (I go further and throw mine in the fridge or freezer for a while; it’s the only way I can get them to cut with clean lines.)

Lift up the ends of the parchment or foil liner, and transfer the brownies to a cutting board. Cut into 16 or 25 squares.

Stock.

2010-02-26T08:27:00.000-08:00

The last incarnation of the chicken was, of course, stock.

Laura and I have a stock bucket on the bottom shelf of our freezer. We throw onion skins, about-to-go-bad celery and carrots, and leftover fresh herbs we know we'll never use right in, almost like a compost. When the chicken carcass comes, we're always ready.

I hope that making stock becomes almost routine in our house, as stock is expensive. If you're looking for further instruction on making stock, I've already posted about it here.

The question then, of course, became, "What to do with the stock?" Stock freezes great, so we managed to hold off about a week before breaking out the larger of the two containers. I went for an old favorite, the Orzo and Spinach Soup with Chicken Meatballs. I posted about it when it was still weather inappropriate. With all the snow we've been having, I think it might be just the right time. If you use the homemade stock, chances are your stock won't be as salty as one from a store. Be sure to season well.

And there you have it--four meals (Roast, Enchiladas, Salad and Soup) from one bird.

As a side note, I want to point out that this is my 100th post. What started out as a conversation between Alex and myself has grown to include seminarians, friends, family and (as revealed this morning) a former teacher. While it has never been my goal to have more than three or four people actually read this, I want to thank those of you who keep me cooking and baking, and on occasion, talking about Jesus.

Chicken Salad.

2010-02-18T17:36:00.000-08:00

Chicken salad isn't very photogenic.

I couldn't get one good shot--try as I might--that wasn't blurry. Maybe that's because chicken salad isn't meant to photographed. It is meant to be eaten.

I really like chicken salad, provided it doesn't have eggs. When you make it yourself, you can safe-guard against things like this. This recipe comes from SmittenKitchen, using some more of the leftover white meat from our "I made a whole chicken" series, but is certainly inspired by a Karen Hunter recipe.

Cherry Chicken Salad Tea Sandwiches. Just the name makes my tummy rumble. We get to eat the crusts we cut off--I have a hard time sharing and, if I'm not the one making them, taking advantage of whoever is offering.

This chicken salad recipe could very easily be swapped out with dried cherries, however, might be too chunky for tea sandwiches. I ate it between slices of toast, in a bowl over lettuce (as shown), and, in my most desperate moments, out of the bowl with a fork.

Cranberry Walnut Chicken Salad
from Smitten Kitchen

serves 4-6

4 cups cubed (1/2 inch) cooked chicken (about 1 3/4 lb) (I halved the recipe and used about 2 cups from the roast chicken)
1 cup walnuts, toasted and chopped
1 celery rib, diced into small bits (1 cup)
2 or more tablespoons finely chopped shallot (I skipped this)
1 cup dried cranberries
2/3 to 3/4 cup mayonnaise
3 tablespoons tarragon vinegar, if you have it, or champagne or white wine vinegar works well, too (you know, we have about 4 different kinds of vinegar, and none of these. I used red wine vinegar)
2 tablespoons finely chopped fresh tarragon or herb or your choice (I used parsley)
1/2 teaspoon salt
1/2 teaspoon black pepper

Really complicated directions: Toss together all ingredients in a large bowl until combined well.

Chicken Enchiladas with Pumpkin Sauce

2010-02-13T18:49:00.000-08:00

My dear friend Addie loves pumpkin everything. Pumpkin lattes, pumpkin scones, pumpkin colored hats--she is in heaven when fall arrives.

Just the other day, she was lamenting the disappearance of pumpkin both at Starbucks and everywhere else. I tried to find her a pumpkin muffin at Au Bon Pain the other morning and found she was right.

Thankfully, I keep a can of pumpkin puree in the cupboard at all times, as one never knows when a muffin craving will sneak up on me. When I saw this recipe in Everyday Food's new book, Great Food Fast, highlighting pumpkin as a savory flavor, I was curious to try it again. The best thing we ate in Lesotho, in my opinion, was roasted pumpkin. When combined with mashed potatoes, it was heavenly.

It is also true that I love enchiladas. Having the chicken already on hand, I decided to try it.

It was surprisingly good--with a little salt. I under seasoned the dish in all regards, as it lacked both salt and heat. I regretfully de-seeded the jalapeno chile and forgot to season the sauce before baking. The pumpkin sauce ended up tasting a little bland by my standards, but done right, I think this could be a real winner. And perhaps satisfy Addie's love of pumpkin past the fall.

Enchiladas with Pumpkin Sauce
from Great Food Fast
Serves 4

1/2 roast or rotisserie chicken, skin removed and meat shredded
6 scallions, thinly sliced
Coarse salt and fresh ground pepper
1 (15 oz) can pumpkin puree
4 garlic cloves
1 jalapeno chile, quartered
1 teaspoon chili powder (though I added more, and some cumin)
2 1/2 cups water
8 corn tortillas
1 1/2 cups (6 oz) grated sharp white cheddar cheese

1. Preheat the oven to 425. In a medium bowl, combine the chicken with the scallions. Season generously with salt and pepper; set aside.
2. In a blender, puree the pumpkin, garlic, jalapeno, chili powder, 2 1/2 cups water and 2 teaspoons salt and 1/2 teaspoon black pepper until smooth. Pour 1 cup of the sauce in the bottom of an 8" square baking dish.
3. Lay the tortillas on a work surface; mound the chicken mixture on half of each tortilla, dividing evenly. Roll up each tortilla into a tight log; place seam side down over the sauce in the baking dish.
4. Pour the remaining sauce on top; sprinkle with cheese. Place the dish on a baking sheet; bale until the cheese is golden and the sauce is bubbling, 25 to 30 minutes. Let cool for 5 minutes before serving.

Everyday Food mentions that you can assemble this dish up to 8 hours ahead of time, covered with plastic wrap, until ready to bake. Just add a few extra minutes to the cooking time.

A whole chicken.

2010-02-11T08:20:00.000-08:00

When I was in high school, I did musical theatre. Surprise, surprise.

During dress rehearsals, the week before the show, Mrs. Hunter (the caterer I work for) would generously come and feed us. I remember looking forward to dress rehearsals for that reason alone, and guessing all day what the menu would be.

Would it be her famous chicken dijon? Or the chicken and olive pasta salad I loved so much? And, as always, we prayed for her perfect chocolate chip cookies.

One infamous day, that is still referenced a great deal, I was standing backstage and hear someone yell, "A WHOLE CHICKEN!"

Yes, Mrs. Hunter had brought us individual roasted chickens with red potatoes and haricots verts. People thought this was the fanciest, most special and most delicious thing they'd ever eaten. And at that moment, it probably was. After spending so much time in a high school auditorium, singing and dancing for 8 hours after school, "grateful" doesn't seem to cut it. We probably should have dedicated every show to Karen Hunter Catering.

When our subletter Jeff moved in to Laura's room, I wanted to go all-out for our first meal. Because, in my mind, a whole roasted chicken is the most special thing, that is what I did.

Being that the chicken was so big, I turned a lot of the white meat into chicken enchiladas with a pumpkin sauce and cranberry walnut chicken salad.

There's no recipe for this chicken, other than to say I rubbed the outside with copious amounts of butter, seasoned heavily with salt and pepper, and baked according to the label. I'm excited to find other ways to season and flavor the bird, now that I know a little bit more about what I'm doing (when I read "remove the giblets", I almost panicked. Little did I know, they were already pre-packaged in a bag that I simply had to pull out).

This 6 lb. chicken fed us for an entire week--between the enchiladas and chicken salad, as well as the dark meat (which Jeff ate) and the stock from the carcass--for only $5.

The next few posts will be about this chicken's journey, from roast to stock.

More salmon to love.

2010-02-01T16:17:00.000-08:00

After Laura moved out, I spent a week or two alone in the apartment. This meant that I was cooking for one again--never an easy task.

But when you're only cooking for one, more expensive cuts of meat and fish are much more affordable (remember my obsession with mussels?). I decided to try out the new grocery store in my area's fish counter, and was handed this salmon. Not the prettiest cut, but it definetely cost less than $5.

I found a recipe for a hoisin glaze and decided that I would go all out with the Asian theme. To complete the meal, I made a salad with leftover greens, an orange and some carrots (shredded by the mandoline), topped with a homemade dressing. The dressing was a combination of sesame oil, soy sauce, ginger and garlic. I steamed some edamame and made some rice to accompany the salmon, though bok choy or broccoli would have been great here, too.

The salmon, of course, is what we're really here to talk about, though.

This hoisin glaze couldn't be easier to prepare and by baking it again, there's not a whole lot you have to worry about. The original recipe uses salmon steaks (8-10 oz and 1 inch thick), and broils them about 4 inches from the heat source for 10-13 minutes.

Salmon with Hoisin Glaze

Serves 1
from Everyday Food: Great Food Fast

1/2 Tb fresh orange juice
1 Tb Hoisin sauce
1 teaspoon honey
Salmon filet, about 8 oz.
Coarse salt and fresh ground pepper

1. Preheat the oven to 375. In a small bowl, whisk together the orange juice, hoisin sauce and honey to make a glaze.

2. Rinse the salmon filet and pat dry. Season with salt and pepper. Place the filet on a baking sheet or in a baking dish and brush generously with the glaze.
3. Bake for about 15 minutes, until opaque in the center.

A successful attempt to like fish.

2010-01-27T11:05:00.000-08:00

This fall, my dear friend Courtney moved to London--and acquired swine flu fairly fairly soon after. I read this article on Epicurious called "Six Foods That Fight the Flu" and decided to pass it along.

The other funny thing about Courtney is that, while a serious foodie, she does not like fish. Courtney and I went to Thailand together this past summer, and in preparation, she began ordering fish at restaurants, determined to convince herself that she liked it. I hadn't eaten fish since I was a child--I can't remember what did me in, but I'm sure it was one forgettable unpleasant experience that made me vow, "Never again!".

So, in preparation for Thailand, where we all assumed we'd be eating fish, I also began ordering it out. I started with Salmon, at my favorite Philadelphia restaurant, Fork. If anyone could make me like fish, it was Fork. After a very pleasant experience, I decided to start ordering it more often (and found salmon to be often more exciting than the chicken or beef entrees).

Then, I cooked it for Laura and myself. This recipe, from the article, allows you to preserve as much vitamin D as possible by roasting--and allows you to avoid handling the fish too much. I made some tweaks to the recipe as far as the red pepper goes. We served this over cous cous the first time, which was delightful, but here I paired it with a lentil ragout (a Karen Hunter recipe).

Baked Salmon with Bell Peppers and Capers
Serves 2

1 lb wild salmon fillets
1 red bell pepper
2 tablespoons extra virgin olive oil
2 tablespoons capers, drained
2 whole peeled garlic cloves
Kosher salt
Black pepper

1. Remove its core and seeds, and cut the red pepper into strips less than an inch wide and 1 1/2 -inch long.
2. Turn on the oven to 375°.
3. Wash the fish in cold water and pat it dry with paper towels.
4. Coat a baking dish with 1 tablespoons of olive oil. Lay the salmon down in the pan, skin side facing down if you have long fillets. Distribute all around the salmon the peppers, capers, and the whole peeled garlic cloves. Sprinkle with a liberal quantity of salt and freshly ground black pepper. Pour the remaining olive oil over the fish. Put the dish in the preheated oven and cook for 16 minutes. Let it settle for a few minutes before serving.

La Familia

2010-01-17T07:46:00.000-08:00

I'm sure you all remember my post about Christmas Lasagna. I love lasagna, especially in the winter time, but my luck with lasagna (as you may recall) has been less than favorable.

When I found this recipe in Gourmet last year, I earmarked it and waited for a time when I would have enough people (about 6, I figured) to eat it.

Finals week at Laura and my apartment was a little less than traditional. I spent most of Monday and Tuesday in the library, writing papers, and then had very little to do for the rest of the week. Our house ended up as the "study house", which really meant that Aaron, Laura's boyfriend, and a few of our other friends came over, listened to Mariah Carey and Whitney Houston, and celebrated the end of the semester. I've been lucky enough to live somewhere that feels like home to more than just me--a place where people know they're always welcome, and there will always be a dessert or two lingering. While part of the magic lies with Laura, I'm proud to say I think some has rubbed off on me, as people continue to come for dinner (actually, Aaron is here doing laundry right now--we just finished some apple pie. He reminded me that I should finish this blog post).

After unfolding our dining room table and searching for extra chairs, we sat down for a meal--a big, family dinner. It was lovely, and one of my fondest memories from college thus far. In not so many words, it became apparent that this was the family the lot of us had chosen. I remember praying over the meal (something I don't do often with friends who are otherwise religiously unaffiliated) because I really did want to thank God for these people--and for this lasagna.

Oh yes, this lasagna was indeed that good. I'm pretty critical of my own dishes, and while I thought the meat filling was a little on the dry side, I'm pretty sure a second try would find it close to perfection.

Lasagne Bolognese with Spinach
Serves 6-8
From Gourmet, January 2009: In the Emilia-Romagna region of Italy, lasagne bolognese is usually made with a besciamella sauce. Italian-American cooks often replace that time-consuming step with ricotta. In this wickedly good interpretation, food editor Melissa Roberts combines the two traditions by whisking milk into some of the ricotta, creating a billowy pseudo-besciamella (the remaining ricotta mixture is stirred together with spinach). We rarely call for specific brands, but we did find that widely available Barilla no-boil dried noodles produced an exemplary lasagne. An egg pasta, this one comes very close to the flavor and delicacy of homemade.

For bolognese sauce:
1/4 cup olive oil
3 ounces sliced pancetta, finely chopped
1 medium onion, finely chopped
1 large carrot, finely chopped
1 celery rib, finely chopped
2 garlic cloves, chopped
2 pounds ground beef chuck (not lean)
1 1/2 cups dry white wine
1 1/2 cups whole milk
1/4 cup tomato paste
1 1/2 teaspoon thyme leaves

For Ricotta filling:
2 (10-ounce) packages frozen chopped spinach,thawed
2 (15-ounce) containers whole-milk ricotta
4 large eggs, lightly beaten
1/2 cup grated Parmigiano-Reggiano
1/2 teaspoon grated nutmeg
3/4 cup whole milk, divided

For assembling lasagne:
12 Barilla no-boil dried lasagne noodles (from 1 box)
1/2 cup grated Parmigiano-Reggiano

Equipment: a 13- by 9-inch baking pan (3 inches deep)

Make Sauce: Heat oil in a 12-to 14-inch heavy skillet over medium heat until it shimmers. Cook pancetta, onion, carrot, celery, and garlic, stirring occasionally, until vegetables are golden and softened, 12 to 15 minutes. Add beef and cook, stirring occasionally and breaking up any lumps, until meat is no longer pink, 6 to 10 minutes. Stir in wine, milk, tomato paste, thyme, 1/4 teaspoon salt, and 3/4 teaspoon pepper. Simmer, uncovered, stirring occasionally, until most of liquid has evaporated but sauce is still moist, about 1 hour.

Make ricotta filling: Put spinach in a kitchen towel (not terry cloth) and twist to squeeze out as much moisture as possible. Whisk together ricotta, eggs, parmesan, nutmeg, 1 1/4 teaspoons salt, and 1 teaspoon pepper. Transfer 1 1/2 cups ricotta mixture to another bowl and whisk in 1/4 cup milk; set aside. Whisk spinach into remaining filling with remaining 1/2 cup milk.
Assemble and bake lasagne: Preheat oven to 375°F with rack in middle.

Soak noodles in a bowl of very warm water until pliable but not softened, 3 to 5 minutes. Place on a kitchen towel (it's not necessary to pat noodles dry).

Spread 1 1/2 cups bolognese sauce in baking pan and sprinkle with 1 tablespoon parmesan. Cover with 3 noodles, leaving space in between. Spread half of spinach filling on top, then 1 cup bolognese sauce, and top with 1 tablespoon parmesan and 3 noodles; repeat. Top with remaining bolognese sauce, 1 tablespoon parmesan, and remaining 3 noodles. Pour reserved ricotta mixture over top and sprinkle with remaining 1/4 cup parmesan.

Cover pan tightly with parchment paper and foil (or just buttered foil) and bake 50 minutes. Remove foil and bake until top is browned in spots, about 15 minutes more. Let stand 15 to 30 minutes before cutting.

Tomato Paste.

2010-01-08T14:01:00.000-08:00

At the beginning of the school year, I bought a small can of tomato paste. I used about a tablespoon for something-or-other, wrapped the remaining paste it in foil and plastic wrap, and stashed it in the freezer (a la Karen Hunter).

The tomato paste returned for these meatballs--an atypical dinner choice for me--but since we have so much angel hair pasta laying around, I wanted to try and use some of it up prior to Laura's departure (Laura has gone to Morocco for the semester, have I mentioned that?). Matt was also over for dinner, and as you may recall, Matt loves spaghetti.

But the way this recipe uses tomato paste sent me running out for more. It deepens the flavor, and adds a really hearty richness to sauces and other recipes, like this one. I've been adding it to everything lately. Just a little goes a long way.

The meatballs were great, too. We used turkey bacon instead of the pancetta, which may have made the meatballs greasier than intended. The best thing about these meatballs is the fact that they're baked--no messing with hot oil!

Baked Chicken Meatballs
Serves 4
From Smitten Kitchen

3 slices Italian bread, torn into small bits (1 cup)
1/3 cup milk
3 ounces sliced pancetta, finely chopped
1 small onion, finely chopped
1 small garlic clove, minced
2 tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil, divided
1 large egg1 pound ground chicken
2 tablespoons tomato paste, divided
3 tablespoons finely chopped flat-leaf parsley

Preheat oven to 400°F with a racks the upper thirds. Soak bread in milk in a small bowl until softened, about four minutes.

Cook pancetta, onion, and garlic in one tablespoon oil with 1/2 teaspoon each of salt and pepper in a large skillet over medium heat until onion is softened, about 6 minutes. Cool slightly.

Squeeze bread to remove excess milk, then discard milk. Lightly beat egg in a large bowl, then combine with chicken, 1 tablespoon tomato paste, pancetta mixture, bread, and parsley.

Form 12 meatballs and arrange in another 4-sided sheet pan (I used a 9×13 roasting dish). Stir together remaining tablespoons of tomato paste and oil and brush over meatballs (the paste/oil does not mix in any cohesive manner, but just smoosh it on and run with it) , then bake in upper third of oven until meatballs are just cooked through, 15 to 20 minutes (though mine took a good 5 minutes longer).

Serve over angel hair pasta with plenty of grated Parmesan.

Two for one special.

2009-12-23T13:53:00.000-08:00

When you cook for two (or more), you engage in a gradual process of discovering what the other person (or people) will or will not eat. I know some of you have children--this is probably not news to you. But when I moved in with Laura, I figured I would have to go through this process of feeling out different spices, vegetables and recipes to see what she would eat and what she wouldn't.

I have learned this: Laura will eat just about anything, except for (1) things that are hot/spicy and (2) sundried tomatoes.

I love sundried tomatoes. I didn't always. But now that they've outlived the trend, I can say that I could consume a whole bag-full in a sitting. I like the Whole Foods brand for snacking, and the ones packed in olive oil are really best for cooking (though we rarely buy them).

So when I went to make this goat cheese pasta sauce, I figured sundried tomatoes would be a natural accompaniment. This, however, probably would not stand with my roommate.

Laura, however, loves red peppers. So, in compromise, I made two separate dishes with the same sauce--one with sundried tomatoes and one with red peppers. The recipe couldn't be easier.

Goat Cheese Pasta (two ways)
Serves 2

1 1/2 oz. goat cheese
8 oz. bowtie pasta

1/4 c pasta water
Fresh ground black pepper and kosher salt
5 sundried tomatoes, sliced; 1/2 red bell pepper, julienned

Cook and drain pasta, reserving about 1/2 c pasta water. In large bowl, combine 1/4 c pasta water and goat cheese. Whisk cheese and water together, adding more water to create a sauce. Season with salt and pepper and toss with pasta.

For sundried tomatoes, simply place in the bottom of the strainer before draining the pasta. Saute the red bell peppers in olive oil until softened but still crisp. Add to pasta.

Pie party.

2009-12-22T11:11:00.000-08:00

Laura and I love to entertain. One Tuesday night we decided to have a Pie Party--pizzas and apple pie. Since the apple pie recipe is Mrs. Hunter's French Apple Pie recipe (and my favorite apple pie recipe of all time), I cannot share it. But I can share the incredible pizza dough recipe, which really knocked my socks off. It was sweet and flavorful, but not overpowering. It's a little on the thin-crust side, but not hard or overly crispy.

I don't know why I don't make pizza more often. It's so easy, and, we discovered, a great way to clean out the fridge. I tossed leftover olives and cheese from a previous dinner party on mine; Laura sliced up some leftover zucchini; and Julia topped her pizza with pepperoni. I thought about making my own tomato sauce, but instead settled on buying two jars (2 for $5!) from Viva Roma. I was pleasantly surprised with their Cabernet Marinara.

Here's the pizza dough recipe courtesy SmittenKitchen, and Mario Batali. I really love the conversational way Deb wrote this recipe, so I've left it as I found it. I'll leave the creative pizza toppings up to you.

Pizza Dough
Makes one small thin-crust pizza, serves two.

6 tablespoons warm water (may need up to 1 or 2 tablespoons more water)
2 tablespoons white wine (We use Goya White Cooking Wine, because you can't beat a $3 bottle you won't drink)
3/4 teaspoon active dry yeast
1/2 teaspoon honey
1 teaspoon salt
1 tablespoon olive oil
1 1/2 cups flour

Whisk wine, water and yeast in a medium bowl until yeast has dissolved. Add honey, salt and olive oil and stir. Add flour and no matter how dry it looks, work it with a spoon and your fingers until it comes together as a dough. Add more water one tablespoon at a time if you need, but in my experience, this is almost never necessary (I seem to always need it, though).

Sprinkle some flour on the counter and knead the dough for a minute or two.

If you’re like me and always trying to reduce the number of dirty dishes left at the end of the night, wash the bowl you made the dough in, dry it and coat the inside with olive oil. Put the dough in, cover it with plastic wrap, and let it rise for an hour or up to two, until it is doubled.

[Easiest way to tell if a dough has risen enough? Dip two fingers in flour, press them into the dough, and if the impression stays, it's good to go. If it pops back, let it go until it doesn't.]

Once the dough has doubled, turn it out onto a floured counter and gently deflate the dough with the palm of your hands. Form it into a ball and let it rest on a floured spot with either plastic wrap over it (sprinkle the top of the dough with flour so it doesn’t stick) or an upended bowl. In 15 minutes, it is ready to roll out.

Do so on the floured counter until pretty darn thin, then lift it onto a cornmeal-sprinkled baking sheet. Add the toppings and slide into a 400 degree oven for 10-15 minutes.

If you're adding vegetables to the top of your pizza, be sure to sprinkle some olive oil on top. Otherwise, the vegetables will simply dry out.

Me encanta el jicama.

2009-12-21T18:12:00.000-08:00

In elementary school, I was in a Spanish immersion program. I learned everything in Spanish through 5th grade, making me pretty much fluent (thanks, mom and dad!). A side effect of this program was the development of a really unique culture. The "English kids" loathed Spanish immersion due to our outshining them at every Field Day (and, well, everything else, too. We were smarter, faster, stronger and more likable). The separation caused us grow up a little differently than our peers. I own Chavo del Ocho (a Mexican children's television show from the late 70's, early 80's) on DVD, since we watched it in class. I learned to dance merengue in third grade. I have spent many an afternoon searching for this Ecuadorian potato pancake recipe (something I ate in fourth grade). I read the first Harry Potter in Spanish. And at some point I became addicted to jicama.

The jicama is a root vegetable that falls somewhere between the potato and the apple. It is massive and ugly, and as I've noticed, readily available in supermarkets. This salad is the result of an impulse jicama purchase.

Jicama is just delicious raw, so a salad seemed a good way to go. I don't normally get too excited about salads, but this can almost be considered a slaw (without the mayo), and would make a great accompaniment to a burger or tacos. It also is great atop a pile of romaine. I can imagine it just heaped on a bed of lettuce as the starter to an impressive dinner--the presentation is just effortless thanks to the colors of the ingredients.

Jicama Salad
Serves 4

This salad is made possible by a mandoline slicer. If you don't own one, Christmas is just around the corner! Do yourself a favor. You'll use it, I promise.

1 jicama, peeled
1 lime (may need 1 1/2 limes, depents on the size of your jicama)
2 carrots
3 radishes
1 navel orange (though would be phenomenal with blood oranges)
1/4-1/2 t Chili powder
Salt and cayenne pepper, to taste

Cut jicama into shoestring size pieces using mandoline slicer. Top with juice of one lime to prevent oxidation. Cut carrot in half through the middle and slice same as jicama. Chop radishes as carrots or jicamas, or (in retrospect, this would have been easier) in paper-thin slices. Peel and segment orange. Toss and sprinkle with chili powder, salt, and pepper.

The most important part.

2009-12-08T13:13:00.000-08:00

All this talk of squash, and I forgot the most important part: Seeds.

It was Alex who turned me on to roasting squash seeds. You can roast all kinds of squash seeds, not just pumpkin. The seeds pictured are from acorn squash, which I just eat whole.

While cleaning them is kind of tedious, the results are well worth the effort--a ridiculously good snack from something you would have otherwise thrown away!

Roasted Squash Seeds

Seeds from any squash (butternut, acorn, etc.)
Olive Oil
Seasonings of your choice*

Preheat oven to 400 degrees. After removing seeds from squash, transfer into a bowl filled with water. Using fingers, free seeds from pulp and transfer to a dry paper towel. Cover a cookie sheet with a sheet of parchment or foil. Distribute the seeds evenly on the pan, and coat with olive oil (I found a little bit less than a tablespoon, depending on the amount of seeds, to be about right) and seasonings. Roast for 10-15 minutes, until golden brown.

*We use all-seasons salt, but have experimented with kosher salt and black pepper and cumin, chili powder and cayenne. The batches are small enough to have fun with. If something doesn't work, it wasn't like you wasted a whole lot of effort, time, money, or materials on it.

On World AIDS Day:

2009-12-01T08:42:00.000-08:00

Dear Friends,

I wanted to post a reflection that's become very dear to me. Simple and honest, with a "duh" message for many of you--this is my offering for today. December 1st is World AIDS Day, and I invite you to remember those living with HIV/AIDS for at least a few moments today. Pray, meditate, do whatever you do to bring peace into the world, and then get tested. Getting tested makes it okay for other to get tested, and helps take away some of the stigma associated with the disease. You can read my reflection on my time in Africa here.

In His Peace,

Cody

Help Me Be Like You, from The Awake Project
Mary Graham
President, Women of Faith

AIDS is a global problem, and it affects us all whether we know it or not. What once seemed an isolated issue has become a challenge for the whole world. Especially the church.

There was a time when everything I knew about AIDS was in a textbook or a movie. Sometimes a headline in the newspaper was bold and caught my attention, but I don’t think I ever made it through the whole article. Ashamedly, I admit it didn’t seem essential information for me. It applied to a people in a sub-culture in my own world, or in another world far from my own. Through the years, my indifference has changed dramatically to both care and genuine grief.

Last year while traveling abroad with World Vision on behalf of Women of Faith, I visited an HIV/AIDS clinic. I was not prepared for what I saw. The rooms were filled with women, mostly very young. Some had small children who were also HIV positive. Others were in full blown, final stages of the dreaded disease. Some looked healthy but were walking around with a death sentence flowing through their veins.

As I met and talked with each of these women, I felt more and more compassion for their need and passion to scream at the top of my voice, Somebody do something! In a nutshell, the stories went something like this: Young girls, from the ages of eight or ten, had been sold into prostitution by families needing money for life’s basic essentials. The women were sold again and again by their “masters,” becoming sexual pawns, held hostage to the dirt-cheap desires of men. Ultimately, they became infected with the disease, and gave birth to fatherless children who were born with the infection. Then, as young adults, they were tossed aside as rubbish.

I thought about all the discussions and stimulating conversations I’d had through the years with friends regarding “a woman’s choice,” and I felt heartsick. Regardless of who we are or what we believe in America, our choices are myriad. I couldn’t get my heart and mind past these desperate women and their need. They had never had a choice of any kind, and they have non now. My heart was broken, which was God’s gift to me.

A recent headline in USA Today took my breath away, “AIDS to Orphan 25 Million.” Think of it. We cannot bear to think of one child losing her mother. Twenty five million motherless children? And of those, many carry the virus themselves. This is not an isolated issue—nothing remote about it, and it will not solve itself. As has been the case for twenty years, it will get worse and worse. Who will help? Who will do something?

It has to be the church. We must be on the leading edge of those who care. Jesus clearly called us to this kind of action. He burdens our hearts for the needs of others, gives us grace to care, hope that makes a difference, and the courage to step up to the plate, even when the need is overwhelming.

He is the one who ignored the prejudice of his culture and reached out to those who were rejected and forsaken. Religious leaders—right and left—in the time of Christ were make pronouncements about the lack or responsibility of the church and its people. “Wrong!” Jesus seemed to say. Out of his compassionate heart, he looked beyond what was easily perceived, to the deeper issues of the plight of people. He touched the outcasts, the lepers, and those unable to help themselves. He went about doing good. He helped and it changed lives.

And he’s the one we follow. Unfortunately, many of us have not just been oblivious to the problem of AIDS worldwide, including our own country, we’ve just been objectionable to it. We’ve felt offended, critical, judgmental, and averse to the issue. The problem is, it’s not just an “issue.” It is people we’re talking about. People are hurting and dying now by the millions.

I personally know many believers who have given their lives to this cause. They work every day somewhere in the world nurturing and caring for those whose lives are ravished by this plague. Their work is saving lives, protecting women and children, and they are being the tangible love of Christ to those who suffer. Millions have secured life eternally because someone care enough to do what Christ would do. May God give them grace in abundance.

Last year in that clinic there was a woman whose face glowed like the Shekinah Glory—it was as if the divine presence of Christ was in her countenance. Although only in her early twenties, Lydia will live just a few more years. As her story unfolded, we realized her entire life had been spent being tossed form one garbage heap to another…until now. With the love of Christ, someone brought her to this safe place. She found love, kindness and peace. In addition, there was provision for her physical needs. She sand with a little choir at the clinic and even when she was singing she never stopped smiling. She said to me, “I am so lucky.” I cried.

I remembered the words of Isaiah, “Whom shall I send who will go for me?” I silently prayed that the Lord would help me know what to do. Anyone in my place that day would have responded as I did. The love Christ ‘constrained me’, and it would you. I challenge you to get in touch with the reality of the AIDS crises. It is a global problem that cannot be dismissed. Ask God to give you his concern for those whose lives are broken by the disease. Pray boldly that he will give you some personal contribution to make. Frankly, one of the most important first steps is that our hearts will be tender about this emergency. That could be the most crucial turning point for the church. And then do something. Do something. As Christians, we know there are three things to consider: we can pray, or give, or go. Or all three. Nobody can do everything. But everybody can do something. If we won’t, who will?

Oh, God, give me your heart for these who suffer. Protect me from ignorance, indifference, and hostile, judgmental statements. Help me be a part of the solution. Help me be like you.

Butternut Squash Pasta Sauce

2009-11-30T20:38:00.000-08:00

After lamenting a little bit over what we don't have this season, it may be very appropriate to say what I am thankful for. Squash is at the top of my list this year.

We've covered the acorn squash, but everyone knows that butternut is the squash (for the last two seasons, at least). If you've tried (and loved) Smitten Kitchen's Butternut Squash and Caramelized Onion Gallette, you know exactly what I'm talking about. We made one a few weeks ago, but since the squash we got was so big, the second half, already peeled and seeded, sat in the fridge for at least a week.

Running low on dinner ideas, I decided to try a butternut squash pasta sauce based on a bottle I had seen at Williams-Sonoma. They, of course, were selling it for an outrageous price in a quantity that would been unreasonable for us to own. I decided to take a stab at making my own, after reading the ingredient list, to toss with some angel hair pasta.

I failed to write down the recipe I was cooking, so most of these instructions are just "guestimates". Just trust your own taste and feel for consistency. Add the half-and-half or cream in intervals.

Butternut Squash Pasta Sauce
I made this using what I had, but written this way, you just fill in whatever quantities you feel work.

1/2 of a medium butternut squash
Olive oil
1 handful Parmesan cheese
Half-and-Half to cover
1 dash cinnamon

1 dash nutmeg
Black pepper, to taste
Salt, to taste

Preheat the oven to 375. Dice the butternut squash into 1/2" pieces and coat with olive oil. Sprinkle with salt and pepper and toss into the oven until tender, about 30 minutes. Let cool. In a blender or food processor, combine the Parmesan, cinnamon, nutmeg, salt, and black pepper with the squash. Cover with half and half and blend until creamy but not too liquid-like (you're going for a pasta sauce here...I trust you'll make that call). Serve over angel hair pasta, sprinkle with black pepper and Parmesan.

Chicken Piccata with Capers and Sweet Corn

2009-11-29T19:35:00.000-08:00

I am finding it very difficult to remember summer.

Watermelon, blackberries, peaches...It all seems so far away now, as I sit in my unheated apartment wearing three layers. But there was a time when fresh sweet corn was readily available, and I would stand over the trashcan and husk it just as the sun was setting (around 7 or 8 o'clock).

Though sweet corn season is over, I feel as though I should record this recipe just so I remember it for next year. It was the perfect combination of flavors--the salty capers, the sweet corn, the acidic lemon juice and crisp white wine. We came up with this one ourselves, just trying to get rid of a few ears languishing in the fridge. Maybe you'll try this with frozen corn, or mark it on your calendar for next year.

Chicken Piccatta with Capers and Sweet Corn
Serves 2
Adapted from Gourmet, October 1991

3/4 lbs. whole skinless boneless chicken breast, halved lengthwise
2 Tb. unsalted butter
1 Tb olive oil
4 Tb dry white wine
2 Tb fresh lemon juice
2 Tb drained bottled capers, chopped
3 Tb minced fresh parsley leaves (use 'em if you got 'em, but it is optional)
1/2 lb. spaghetti or angel hair pasta

Halve the chicken pieces horizontally with a sharp knife and flatten them slightly between sheets of plastic wrap. In a large, heavy skillet heat half the butter and the oil over moderately high heat until the foam subsides. Saute the chicken pieces, seasoned with salt and pepper, 1-2 minutes on each side or until they are cooked through. Transfer the chicken to a platter and keep warm (Aaron's mom taught us this trick--just stick in the microwave. It'll keep your food warm without even being on!). Add the wine, lemon juice, capers, and corn, scraping the brown bits from the bottom of the pan. Bring the mixture to a boil. Add the chicken and simmer for a few minutes, bringing the ingredients together. Serve over spaghetti or angel hair pasta, garnished with parsley.

Roasted Corn Pudding in Acorn Squash

2009-11-24T13:06:00.000-08:00

As I know I've said before, my mom isn't much of cook. I love my mother, but I know she'd agree when I say that loathes grocery shopping, thinking about making dinner, and making dinner. I, on the other hand, revel in it.

So it should come as no surprise that my mother rarely prepared seasonal vegetables. I had never eaten butternut squash until I moved to Philadelphia. Now that it's become a staple in our apartment, we are branching out to other kinds of squash. As I type, there is a second beautiful acorn squash sitting on the window sill.

This recipe, from 101Cookbooks, takes awhile to make but isn't labor intensive. It just so happened that Alex and her friend Nick visited the night we planned on making it. One squash was plenty split between four people as a main dish.

Of course, this recipe was made (once again) on the tail end of corn season, but frozen corn works here as well.

Roasted Corn Pudding in Acorn Squash

serves 4

1 small (2 lb.) acorn squash, cut in half lengthwise and seeded
1 tablespoon olive oil
1 cup milk
1 egg plus 2 egg whites
1/2 cup fresh corn kernels (or more if you like)
1/2 cup chopped scallions
a tiny pinch of nutmeg
1/4 teaspoon salt
1/3 cup grated cheddar cheese

Rub the orange flesh of the squash with oil. Place cut side up on a baking sheet. You will want it to sit flat (and not tip), if you are having trouble just level out the bottom using a knife. If the squash is tilting on the pan, the filling will run out - bad news. Cover the squash with foil and bake for 40 minutes or until the squash starts to get tender.

In a bowl combine the milk, eggs, corn, half of the scallions, nutmeg, and salt. Fill each of the squash bowls (the original reads 3/4 full, but we just filled them. We baked the extra filling in ramekins). Carefully transfer the squash back to the oven without spilling (tricky!). Continue baking uncovered for another 30 - 50 minutes, or until the squash is fully cooked through, and the pudding has set.

The amount of time it takes can vary wildly depending on the squash and oven. At the last minute sprinkle with cheese and finish with a flash under the broiler to brown the cheese. Keep and eye on things, you can go from melted cheese to burnt and inedible in a flash. Serve hot sprinkled with the remaining scallions.

My apologies for not posting more lately--I've been super nerdy lately, writing papers and reading books. But I've still had time to cook a lot (though I don't necessarily remember to take photos) and have a few posts ready to go. Look out this week for the other two November posts.

Cook Chicken.

2009-11-12T07:55:00.000-08:00

I am not a vegetarian, but I rarely cook meat. There was honestly only two instances where I had in my last kitchen--steak, on Valentine's day, and Mrs. Hunter's chicken Dijon.

My anxiety over cooking meat has nothing to do with how gross it is, or ethical issues over where it comes from, but rather a fear that I will not cook it long enough and will give everyone food poisoning.

In an effort to face my fears, I've tried a few chicken recipes.

I'm really glad, too. This recipe was incredible--and so ridiculously perfect for a fall evening. I had it bookmarked for at least a year, and am really sad I didn't try it until now. I halved the cider cream sauce, made only two chicken breasts and served the whole thing over mashed sweet potatoes (to which I added nothing but butter, a little cream, and hot sauce--would have used adobo sauce if there had been any in the pantry).

Chicken Breasts with Apples and Cider Cream Sauce
From The Frog Commissary Cookbook, who served this dish to 800 people in 12 minutes at the Philadelphia Art Museum--this recipe only serves 6, though.

Cider Cream Sauce
2 cups apple cider
2 Tb Dijon mustard
2 1/2 cups heavy cream
1/8 t cayenne pepper
1/4 t salt
1/4 t pepper

Chicken
6 boneless, skinless chicken breast halves
3/4 cup flour, seasoned with 1 1/2 t each salt and pepper
1/2 c clarified butter (we used about 4 Tb of regular butter)
2 large tart apples, cored and cut into 1/4" slices (we used Winesap apples, my favorites)

Make the sauce. In a 2-quart saucepan, reduce the cider to 1/2 cup. Whisk in the mustard and cream and reduce to about 2 cups over medium high heat or until thickened like a sauce (it should coat a spoon). Add the seasonings and set aside.

Make the chicken. Dredge the chicken in the seasoned flour and shake off the excess. Heat 6 Tb of the butter in a large skillet. Add the chicken and saute for 5 minutes. Turn the chicken and saute for 3-5 minutes more or until done. Remove the chicken (we put it in the microwave to keep it warm, a great trick) and add 2 Tb of butter and the apples to the pan. Saute 3-5 minutes or just until tender. Pour any excess butter from the pan and add the cider cream sauce. Heat through while scraping up any little browned bits from the bottom of the pan. When hot, serve over the chicken breasts and serve with apples.

Laura eats all the eggs.

2009-10-22T07:34:00.000-07:00

Because Laura and I have so few issues living together (the complete list: Laura's hair, we're both bad at mental math, we stay up chatting until way too late in the evening), we've started inventing them.

Our pretend issue is that Laura eats all the eggs. The fact is that she does, but the falsehood lies in me caring. It all started when I came home one weekend to a near-empty box of 18 eggs we had gotten a few days before. I wasn't mad, I was amazed! I still don't know quite how she managed it.

Laura gets made fun of relentlessly. Here's what our mutual friends had to say about it after I tweeted:

Aside from being useful for baking, eggs are a hot commodity around here as a cheap and filling protein. I've been practically lusting over this recipe ever since I saw it in Gourmet (which is the second, much prettier image above) last January, but lacked the ramekins in which to make it. I used the $0.33 ceramic cups we bought at Ikea, and though they may not be as pretty as the Gourmet version, they certainly tasted delicious.

Eggs with Cream, Spinach and Country Ham
Serves 8
The description from Gourmet was too good not to post: You'll return again and again to this recipe since it can be assembled in advance and delivers serious flavor. The scent of ham gently permeates the eggs, whose yolks can be broken into the rest of the dish or dipped into with biscuits , while the mineral notes of the creamed spinach proclaim its freshness.

1/4 cup thinly sliced country ham, finely chopped
Scant 3/4 cup heavy cream
1 tablespoon finely chopped onion
2 tablespoons unsalted butter, divided
3/4 teaspoon finely chopped garlic
10 ounces spinach, coarse stems discarded and coarsely chopped
8 large eggs

Equipment: 8 (6-ounce) ramekins or ovenproof teacups

Preheat oven to 350°F with rack in middle.
Bring ham and cream to a simmer in a small saucepan over medium-low heat, then remove from heat. Let steep, uncovered, about 10 minutes.
Cook onion in 1 tablespoon butter in a 12-inch heavy skillet over medium-low heat, stirring, until softened, about 2 minutes. Add garlic and season lightly with salt and pepper, then cook, stirring, 1 minute. Add spinach, 1/4 teaspoon salt, and 1/8 teaspoon pepper and cook, until spinach is wilted.
Divide spinach, then ham, among ramekins, spooning 1 tablespoon cream into each serving. Crack eggs into ramekins and season lightly with salt and pepper. Spoon 1 teaspoon cream over each egg. Cut remaining tablespoon butter into 8 small pieces and dot each egg with butter.
Put ramekins in a shallow baking pan and bake, rotating pan halfway through baking, until whites are just set but yolks are still runny, 15 to 20 minutes, removing from oven as cooked.

Clam and Corn Chowder.

2009-10-12T22:03:00.000-07:00

Laura and I are really into saving money. Especially as our gas bills for the last two months have already been more than either of us expected.

(Internal monologue: Oh my gosh I'm talking about gas bills and sounding like my parents please make it stop.)

But we have ideas. Hand-knit wool socks, handmade quilts, heavy drapes, and, of course, lots of soup. Though it wasn't quite cold when we made this, I can tell you that I wish I had a bowl right now (I'm all bundled up and it's only October!).

This recipe comes from Bon Appetit's recession-friendly January 2009 issue. According to the authors, you could spend $14.11 shopping for this meal. Because there are only two of us, we halved the recipe (saving on clams), and added more potatoes, carrots and onion. The rosemary and thyme make a huge difference, making this recipe taste expensive. We splurged on the bacon, though it was very hard to eat as pictured. Do yourself a favor and chop it a little.

New England Clam and Corn Chowder with herbs
From Bon Appetit, January 2009

Serves 4

6 thick bacon slices, cut crosswise into 1/2" pieces
1 large onion, chopped
2 large carrots, peeled and chopped
1 1/4 teaspoons dried thyme
3/4 teaspoon crushed dried rosemary
3 Tablespoons flour
4 cups whole milk
1 8 0z. white-skinned potato, cut into 1/2" cubes
3 6 1/2 oz. cans chopped clams in juice
1 8 3/4 oz. can corn kernels, drained (or, fresh corn off the cob--about 2 ears)
Chopped fresh parsley

1. Cook bacon in a large saucepan (or your favorite soup pot) over medium heat until crisp. Transfer bacon to a paper towel to drain.
2. Add onion, carrots, thyme, rosemary, and potatoes to pan and sprinkle with salt and pepper. Saute until vegetables are crisp-tender, about 5 minutes. Sprinkle flour over, stir 1-2 minutes.
3. Gradually add milk to pan, stirring constantly. Bring to a boil. Reduce heat to medium and cook until slightly thickened, stirring often, about 5 minutes.
4. Add clams with juice and corn. Simmer until potatoes are tender, about 10 minutes more.
5. Divide soup amongst bowls, sprinkle with bacon and parsley.

Corn and Tomato Pie.

2009-10-06T19:24:00.000-07:00

We are now rapidly approaching the end of the summer season. Tomatoes and sweet corn are becoming far too rare at our farmer's market. Even though I bought a few (delicious) ears today, I know corn is definitely past its peak.

But you must find time to try this pie. It was quite the buzz worthy blog post at the end of the summer--after missing out on the shrimp and broccoli for so long, I decided not to wait. I'm glad I didn't. This dish really showcases the freshness of the tomatoes and corn, thanks to the lemon and chives. I forgot there was cheese and mayonnaise in this dish. Just be sure to season liberally--the salt and pepper really make the flavors pop.

Two notes on tomatoes: First, don't skip peeling them. Deb didn't think it was necessary, and later wished she had. I had a good time doing it--it's almost magical! Secondly, you can de-seed and juice them a little if you want, as the tomatoes do cause some puddles, as is apparent in the second photo, but I didn't have a problem with the crust being soggy. I feel like it would have helped to make bigger/better steam vents.

This kept pretty well in the fridge for the two days it took us to finish it. I'd be willing to place bets that it won't last that long in your house, though.

Corn and Tomato Pie

adapted from SmittenKitchen, who adapted it from Gourmet

2 cups all-purpose flour
1 tablespoon baking powder
1 3/4 teaspoons salt, divided
3/4 stick (6 tablespoons or 3 ounces) cold unsalted butter, cut into 1/2-inch cubes, plus 2 teaspoons melted
3/4 cup whole milk
1/3 cup mayonnaise
2 tablespoons fresh lemon juice
1 3/4 pounds beefsteak tomatoes
1 1/2 cups corn (from about 3 ears), coarsely chopped by hand, divided
1 tablespoon finely chopped chives, divided
1/4 teaspoon black pepper, divided
7 ounces coarsely grated sharp Cheddar (1 3/4 cups), divided

Whisk together flour, baking powder, and 3/4 tsp salt in a bowl, then blend in cold butter (3/4 stick) with your fingertips or a pastry blender until it resembles coarse meal. Add milk, stirring until mixture just forms a dough, then gather into a ball.

Divide dough in half and roll out one piece on a well-floured counter into a 12-inch round (1/8 inch thick). Either fold the round gently in quarters, lift it into a 9-inch pie plate and gently unfold and center it. Pat the dough in with your fingers trim any overhang.

Preheat oven to 400°F with rack in middle. If your kitchen is excessively warm, as ours is, go ahead and put the second half of the dough in the fridge until you’re ready to use it. Whisk together mayonnaise and lemon juice.

Cut an X in bottom of each tomato and blanch in a large pot of boiling water 10 seconds. Immediately transfer with a slotted spoon to an ice bath to cool. Peel tomatoes, then slice crosswise 1/4 inch thick and, if desired, gently remove seeds and extra juices. Arrange half of tomatoes in crust, overlapping, and sprinkle with half of corn, one tablespoon basil, 1/2 tablespoon chives, 1/2 teaspoon salt, 1/8 teaspoon pepper and one cup of grated cheese. Repeat layering with remaining tomatoes, corn, chives, salt, and pepper. Pour lemon mayonnaise over filling and sprinkle with remaining cheese.

Roll out remaining piece of dough into a 12-inch round in same manner, then fit over filling, folding overhang under edge of bottom crust and pinching edge to seal. Cut 4 steam vents in top crust and brush crust with melted butter (2 teaspoons). Bake pie until crust is golden and filling is bubbling, 30 to 35 minutes, then cool on a rack. Serve warm or at room temperature.

Flying Monkey Cupcakes.

2009-10-05T07:42:00.000-07:00

The last two weeks have been jam-packed full of papers, visitors and running back and forth to my parent's house to pick up some catering shifts.

I've been trying to reclaim some joy with Flying Monkey cupcakes (Reading Terminal, 13th & Arch). On the left is my personal favorite, the Flying Monkey Signature Cupcake, which is chocolate-chocolate with banana butter cream in the middle. The cupcake on the right is chocolate with lavender icing and raspberry filling. Both were absolutely worth every penny.

I'll be back on schedule soon with some corn and tomato pie (just in time to finish the season), and since I've busted out a wool sweater today, I think it might be time for some soup, too.

Omelets and Barbara Brown Taylor.

2009-09-20T10:29:00.000-07:00

This is not an entry about omelets, really.

Sure, that omelet was delicious--I used the leftover Cazio de Lazio and spinach from the Prosciutto cups and sundried tomatoes to make myself a really phenomenal lunch.

Try as I might, I have a really hard time reading and eating. But when I started Barbara Brown Taylor's Leaving Church, I couldn't put it down. My copy is now filled with underlines, notes and crumbs.

This is exactly what I needed to hear this week, I thought I'd share it:

"Salvation is so much more than many of its proponents would have us believe. In the Bible, human beings experience God's salvation when peace ends war, when food follows famine, when health supplants sickness and freedom trumps oppression. Salvation is a word for the divine spaciousness that comes to human beings in all the tight places where their lives are at risk, regardless of how they got there or whether they know God's name. Sometimes it comes as an extended human hand and sometimes as a bolt from the blue, but either way it opens a door in what looked for all the world like a wall. This is the way of life, and God alone knows how it works."

There is so much more in this book--particularly about the way church works (and doesn't). I highly, highly recommend it.

Resurrecting Corn.

2009-09-11T15:12:00.000-07:00

I have always loved corn on the cob. When I was 10 or 11, I won a family corn-eating contest with 6 ears. I remember shucking corn sitting at picnic tables with brown grocery bags beneath us, and my grandmother boiling them on the stove afterwards (and, oddly enough, the tongs she used to remove them from the boiling water). My favorite midnight snack the first few weeks of freshman year was corn on the cob, cold out of the fridge covered in salt.

Corn in Philadelphia delicious, most likely because it's fairly local. Lucky for us, we live between Jersey Sweet Corn and Lancaster Sweet Corn.

Laura and I bought some at Reading Terminal during our first shopping trip but didn’t get around to eating it until a little over a week later. It was looking a little sad. So I decided to mix up some fancy butter to liven it up.

These are only two variations and do not require measurements. The only “recipe” here involves softening the butter enough and gradually mixing in layers of flavor (thus, lots of taste testing). I used the back of a tiny spoon to mix the seasonings into the butter.

The butter on the left is a Chili Butter. It contains Chili Powder, Paprika, Cumin, Cayenne Pepper and All Seasons Salt.

The butter on the right is Parsley Parmesan Butter. We chopped fresh parsley and added a hefty amount of Parmesan. Lemon zest would have been wonderful in this!

After corn, this butter is delicious on rolls (especially multigrain ones) and melted in pasta. I’m also considering using the Chili Butter to do some sautéed vegetables later this week.

Prosciutto

2009-09-06T16:11:00.000-07:00

As I am a college student, I am really, really poor.

As I am Pennsylvania Dutch, I am also really, really frugal. I believe the expression is “tighter than a fish’s ass.” (Thanks, Mrs. Church.)

But I am also a serious foodie. You all know this. I love expensive meals at restaurants, good cheese, and can be very particular about the quality of ingredients. It creates somewhat of a problem. Laura (my roommate) and I have been very careful about how much we spend for groceries—between the two of us, the first week we spent about $20, the second about $25.

And do you know where we spent that extra $5 the second week, and on what? That’s right. At DiBruno Brothers, on prosciutto.

Prosciutto, for those of you who don’t know, is an Italian cured ham that is sliced ultra thin. It practically melts in your mouth and is one of the greatest things ever to happen to food. This having been said, they charge about $20 a pound for it.

It was so worth it.

This recipe gives prosciutto a form and function as a cup or crust for a baked egg. It’s great for breakfast, but two of these at dinner with a side of homefries can be a really filling meal. Baking the cherry tomatoes gives them a really delicious roasted flavor, too.

This recipe also calls for cheddar. I found that kind of boring. While I was at DiBruno Brothers, I asked the fromagier for a suggestion. First he said Pecorino Romano (a fine choice), but I was hoping for something that would melt better. He gave me a Cacio (de Lazio), which is just a young Pecorino. It’s a semi firm sheep’s milk cheese and, aside from being absolutely delightful melted, it’s a great table cheese.

Individual prosciutto, spinach and egg “pies”

From Sara Foster's Casual Cooking

Olive oil for greasing muffin tins
6 thin slices prosciutto
6 large eggs
1 c spinach, roughly chopped
1 oz cheddar (or Pecorino Romano, or Cacio), shredded (1/4 c)
12 grape tomatoes, halfed

Preheat the oven to 350. Using a paper towel, grease six cups of the muffin tin with olive oil.
Line the cups with the prosciutto slices. Crack 1 egg into each cup. Sprinkle spinach and cheese. Top with tomatoes, salt and pepper. Bake for 15 to 18 minutes, until egg whites are firm and yolks are starting to set but still soft in the center. Set them aside to cool for 5 minutes. Run a knife around the edge of the prosciutto cups to loosen.

Back to reality.

2009-09-03T13:45:00.000-07:00

Since we last spoke, I have survived two weeks in Thailand, two and a half weeks in the wilderness (with children), moving into an apartment (twice), leading worship, and starting class.
Being in Thailand—and at camp—was like living in an alternate universe. How is there no cheese in Thailand? Since when did I like oatmeal so much?

Just thinking about unpacking for good today made me realize: I have come back to reality. Reality, in the sense that I’m using it, has a wonderful connotation. Grocery shopping, making dinner every night, and having friends over for dessert is a really wonderful reality, a reality I missed and for which I am grateful.

Part of this new reality is my new roommate—Laura—who gives me full reign of the kitchen and likes just about everything I make. She invited our friends, Jess and Brian (who are recently married—gah! I have friends who are married), over for dinner. We had only been living in the apartment a few days, so there wasn’t much in our fridge just yet. Expected to deliver a meal worthy of my reputation in the kitchen, I began to scramble.

Then I remembered this story from bread&honey. When Italians wives had affairs, and therefore did not have enough time to slave over a hot stove making the perfect red sauce, they would make a sauce called "putan"(which literally means “whore”). Of course, I would have looked up the recipe, but we don't have internet yet, so I was forced to It’s dependent on fresh ingredients and requires very little stove time, thus it’s absolutely perfect for the end of summer (and if you're interested in tricking your husband into believing you slaved over a red sauce all day, when really you just tossed this together).

I grabbed some tomatoes and basil from my dad’s garden, and because we always have onions and garlic on hand, this sauce came together in a flash. We added a poached egg on top for a little protein, and because, well, a poached egg always brings a little class to a dish. The dish was well received, however, I forgot to snap a photo until midway through eating.

Pasta alla Puttanesca
Serves 4

4-5 big, ripe tomatoes, cubed
4 Tb. olive oil, divided
1 medium white onion or half a large onion, diced
3-4 cloves garlic
1/2 tsp dried thyme
1 lb. pasta (we used rigatoni)
4 eggs
Basil

Optional: olives, anchovies, torn prosciutto

1. Dice the onion and saute in 2 Tb olive oil until softened.
2. Add the rest of the oil, garlic and tomatoes and simmer over medium-low heat until warmed through (the tomatoes should only break down a little). Add the thyme (and other herbs, if you like, oregano or an "Italian seasoning" would work here) and season to taste with salt and pepper.
3. Meanwhile, boil water and cook the pasta.
4. About 5 minutes into cooking the pasta, bring a sauce pan, about half-way full with water, to a boil. Crack eggs into small cups first, and when the water reaches a boil, gently drop the eggs into the water. They will feather out a little, but do not be concerned. Take the water off the heat, cover, and wait 4-5 minutes (depending on how done you like the yoke). After 4-5 minutes, use a slotted spoon to fish out the eggs and place on a paper towel to absorb some of the water.
5. Combine the sauce and pasta in a large bowl. Plate the pasta on the bottom and the poached egg on top. Sprinkle with black pepper and Parmesan cheese.

I forgot to mention:

2009-07-29T16:01:00.000-07:00

I've been in Thailand the last few weeks (eating all kinds of really incredible Thai food). In a few days, I'll move into a new apartment in Philadelphia and then start a job at Mountain Meadow Summer Camp through most of August.

I'll be posting some photos and short thoughts periodically, as well as some pieces from before I left (oh man, strawberry rhubarb cobbler).

Crashing The Last Supper is, therefore, on temporary hiatus. Just think of it like Jesus' lost years.

French Onion Soup.

2009-07-06T14:14:00.003-07:00

Remember a few weeks ago when I was saying it was too warm for soup? Considering the rainy weather a few weeks ago, I don't feel like posting this recipe now is too out-of-line.

I do have to admit, however, that I made this soup on a perfectly warm, sunny day--Father's Day, actually. My dad requested French Onion Soup (not expecting me to actually make it, I'm pretty sure), but since I'd missed cooking for more than one person, I accepted his challenge.

I've never made French Onion Soup, or ordered it off a menu, and really have only tasted a spoonful once. We also lacked oven-proof bowls, so finishing off the soup in the broiler was also not an option.

But with a little creativity, I think I managed to pull off French Onion Soup without a broiler. Be sure to bookmark this recipe for cold winter nights.

French Onion Soup
Adapted from Bon Appetit, May 1991, with elements from Smitten Kitchen's recipe

1/4 cup (1/2 stick) butter (I used a little more than this, actually)
6 onions (about 3-4 pounds), thinly sliced (use a variety of onions you like, each will yield a slightly different taste)
A few pinches of sugar
6 garlic cloves, sliced
1/2 cup dry white wine
6 cups canned beef broth (one of the big cans)
1 teaspoon Dijon mustard
1 sourdough baguette with a good crust
2-3 tablespoons olive oil
1 cup grated Swiss cheese (I bought Jarlsberg...you should treat yourself to this, it'll totally change the way you think about Swiss. Gruyere would also be fantastic)

1. Thinly slice the onions with a mandoline slicer. In a heavy-bottomed soup pot, melt the butter. Over medium high heat, add onions and a few pinches of sugar. Season with salt and pepper. Once starting to color, turn down to low heat and add the garlic. Saute uncovered until the onions are very tender and brown (about 45 minutes). Remember to stir frequently, add more butter if necessary, and not let the onions burn.

2. Add wine and reduce to glaze (about 3 minute). In a small bowl, whisk the mustard with a splash of beef broth and add to the onions. Add the rest of the beef broth and simmer for 20 minutes. Season with salt and pepper.

3. Meanwhile, slice the baguette diagonally into 1/2" slices. Brush each side with olive oil. In a 400 degree oven, toast for 4 minutes. Flip and pile with grated Swiss cheese. Return to oven until the cheese has melted.

4. To serve, ladle soup into bowls. Top with 3 baguette slices.

I think my dad was impressed.

Please follow instructions.

2009-06-21T20:06:00.000-07:00

Sometimes I'm pretty sure I'll never learn.

I love scallops. If I see them on a menu, I usually order them. For example, at both of my most recent visits to Fork, I ordered the scallops (over a vanilla risotto with butternut squash and apples and, on Eddie's birthday, with fresh ravioli in a light basil sauce).

I decided that, as a treat, I should try making them myself.

I bought this cilantro lime pasta at Ohio City Pasta with the intention of doing a play on ceviche--a Latin dish typically made with seafood, lime, cilantro, and chilies. I figured the pasta with a little bit of olive oil and red pepper flakes would allow the flavors of the pasta and scallops to really shine.

Of course, I've never made scallops before. In my research, every recipe read, "Using a non-stick pan..." You'd think I would have made note of that. But of course, Ol' Stubborn Cody had to try and use the fancy pans in his apartment, which are metal and not non-stick.

Despite the pan being well-oiled, those scallops stuck like you wouldn't believe, which was really sad considering how expensive the scallops were.

I don't have a recipe for you (again) because this recipe was, aside from being a "fail" in procedure also not that great ingredient-wise. The dish needed another level of acidity and real chilies probably would have helped.

I tell you all this because, primarily, I want you to always use a non-stick pan for scallops, and because the french onion soup I made yesterday will make up for this. I am finally back home in Coopersburg for a few days and cooking up a storm, with much success. I'm throwing a Just Desserts party on Wednesday, so you can expect plenty of coverage later in the week.

Carb overload.

2009-06-13T13:49:00.000-07:00

When I saw this recipe that included both pasta and potatoes, I found it hard to believe. Could I really have pasta and potatoes in the same dish? Wouldn't that be carb overload?

A few months went by, and I found myself at West Side Market with a handful of fingerling potatoes, fresh wild mushroom pasta, and some Italian chicken sausage in my bag (all for under $5). My first thought for the fingerling potatoes was homefries--but then, thinking about the pasta and potatoes recipe I couldn't quite remember the details of--I thought, "Wild mushroom pasta with potatoes. And sausage. And spinach to balance it out."

I went home and got to work. I boiled the potatoes and the pasta, took the sausage out of the casing and sauteed it with the spinach. The result?

Carb overload.

Marc Bittman's recipe for pasta with potatoes is considerably different than this one. Stewed tomatoes may have saved the dish, but it also may have hidden the wild mushroom flavor.

The winner, however, and reason I am blogging about this dish, is the sausage and spinach. Chicken sausage is pretty readily available--there's always plenty at Whole Foods. Simply remove the casing (I know, it's kind of gross) and cook like you would ground beef. Throw the spinach in once the sausage is all the way cooked, only until it wilts.

This sausage and spinach topping would work great for pasta or potatoes, especially if you're in a rush. The flavor of the sausage eliminates the need for any other seasonings or fussing--add a little olive oil and you're done. Also, consider the potatoes, sausage and spinach with eggs, or in a frittata.

Snacktime.

2009-06-09T19:19:00.000-07:00

Things I can't get enough of lately:

Morbier is a pretty mild cow's milk cheese with a line of vegetable ash running through the middle (the fromagier at Dibruno Bros told me it separated the morning from the evening milking). The aroma is strong, but like I said, the taste is pretty mild.

Blood Oranges are like less acidic oranges, and chances are you've already had them. I had never bought them before, but now I'm entranced by that deep purple-red.

But nothing says summer like watermelon. You know I ate that entire third of a watermelon by myself in one sitting. Take a look at that cutting technique. Thanks to Karen Hunter Catering I could probably cut an entire watermelon down to bite size pieces in 5 minutes or less.

More mussels to love.

2009-06-06T19:35:00.000-07:00

At 5:30, after buying cilantro lime pasta this morning, I went to West Side Market with the intention of buying scallops. I thought the scallops would go well with the pasta--like a ceviche, with a little olive oil and perhaps some red pepper flakes.

But of course, it was the end of the day, and there were mussels. I took about a pound, for $2.50.
Browsing SmittenKitchen for a scallop recipe, I stumbled upon this pairing of mussels and fries, which I guess is a Belgian thing. I don't know much about Belgium apart from watching Giada eat her way through Brussels a few years ago. I had a few fingerlings left over from another adventure this week (that I'll share eventually, as the experiment kind of failed), so I decided to go all the way and make the whole meal.

The only issue was the white wine.

Sadly, I am not yet 21 (soon!). But how about white cooking wine? Do they card you for that?

Apparently not. Even though I probably could have gotten away with buying a real bottle of white wine in the grocery store (in Ohio, they have wine in the grocery store. Amazing) with the stubble I've accumulated over the past 4 days of not shaving, I went for Goya's white cooking wine for $2.32.

Now, it could be that I don't know much about wine, but the cooking wine wasn't bad. I know you should never cook with wine you wouldn't drink, but here it seems okay to bend the rules.

Moules a la mariniere/Fresh Mussels Steamed in Wine and Flavorings
Adapted from SmittenKitchen, but actually from Julia Child's "Mastering the Art of French Cooking" (!)
Serves one.

1 c white wine
3 Tb butter
1/2 c chopped green onion
1 clove diced garlic
A few cranks black pepper
3/4 lb. mussels

1. Scrub your mussels (I incurred a minor blister on my thumb--get a scrub brush, using a dishcloth is hard work).
2. In a pot large enough to spread all the mussels in one layer, pour the white wine and the butter. Over medium heat, allow the butter to melt. Add the green onion, garlic, and black pepper.
3. Add the mussels, put a lid on the pot, and crank up the heat to high. In about 5 or 6 minutes, your mussels will have steamed open. Discard those that do not.

The sauce this makes is delicious. Suitable for dipping french fries in, but you might want to have some good, crusty bread on hand. You can also add and swap out various herbs--the original recipe included thyme, parsley and a bay leaf.

Baked Pommes Frites
Adaptable--I wasn't measuring or watching times, but this is one you can probably figure out yourself.

Potatoes (I used fingerling, but the original recipe is written for russet potatoes)
Olive Oil (the ratio from SmittenKitchen is 6 Russets:1/4 c oil)

Salt and Pepper

1. Preheat your oven to 400.
2. Cut your potatoes so they measure about 1/2" x 1/2".
3. Boil the potatoes until a knife goes through easily.
4. Drain the potatoes, toss with plenty of olive oil, salt and pepper.
5. Spread evenly on a baking sheet and pop in the oven until golden brown, turning them once after ten or so minutes (it takes awhile--I wasn't as patient as I should have been, but the fries still got nice and crispy on the outside).

Parsley and Garlic Mussels with Squid Ink Pasta

2009-05-31T10:50:00.000-07:00

I apologize for the poor lighting in my kitchen. But I think the real reason you can't really see my plate is because the dish was essentially black-on-black.

Walking around West Side Market on Friday afternoon, I discovered a stand called Ohio City Pasta. They, as one would imagine, specialize in fresh pasta. Ashamed as I am, I have actually never bought fresh pasta, despite its availability at Reading Terminal (you know the Italian place in the back? Go to the side counter). The appeal of Ohio City Pasta is that it sells interestingly flavored pasta in individual portions.

I've been cooking for one for a little over two weeks now, and let me tell you: It is easier to buy groceries for a party of ten then for one. A box of pasta is about 4 meals. Economically, this is fantastic, but do I really want to be eating that much pasta? Not really.

I chose the squid ink pasta because not only did it sound a little badass, but it looked a little badass. I mean, how cool is black pasta? And for $1.25, I figured it was worth it.

The issue then became what to pair the pasta with. I received a good suggestion from my friend Courtney--something with garlic (olive oil, chile flakes, lemon, parsley and few tomatoes, she added). I read up on squid ink and decided seafood might be the best pairing to the pasta. With Prince Edward Island Mussels costing only $2 a pound (compared to $5 for the freshest clams), I decided mussels would be a great acommpainment.

The following recipe is really easy and, again, pretty cheap to reproduce. It is also simply delicious--parsley, butter, garlic and the mussel juices combine to create a light sauce that highlights the seafood undertones of the pasta--and it all combines for you in the oven.

I tried using a really good applewood smoked bacon with the clams, but they didn't cook the whole way through. Despite adding a deeper flavor element, I think you can go without. I'd be anxious to try a cured meet, like prosciutto.

Parsley and Garlic Mussels with Squid Ink Pasta
Based on a recipe from Gourmet, 2000
Serves 1 very hungry boy

1 lb mussels, cleaned
2-3 garlic cloves, coarsely chopped
1/2 cup fresh flat-leaf parsley. chopped
1/4 stick unsalted butter, cut into pieces
1/4 teaspoon salt
1/4 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper
4 oz. fresh squid ink pasta

1. Set the butter out to soften. Clean the mussels using a potato scrubber--discard any that are cracked or open. Preheat oven to 450°F.
2. Spread mussels in a 13- by 9-inch baking dish. Blend all remaining ingredients to a paste with a whisk. Spoon mixture over mussels (see first photo). Cover tightly with foil and bake in middle of oven until all mussels are open, 12 to 15 minutes (discard any unopened mussels). Meanwhile, boil a small pot of water.
3. Boil pasta for 1.5-2 minutes. Plate pasta, spoon broth from the mussels over the pasta. Plate mussels on top, and spoon on more broth.

The broth is also delicious mopped up with bread.

Cauliflower.

2009-05-29T17:46:00.000-07:00

This is a post dedicated to cauliflower. Note there is no cheese sauce or steaming in this entry.

I took the photo above back on February 10th. It was a roasted cauliflower recipe (though this was before the broccoli recipe, it was the same idea) that went horribly, horribly wrong. The cauliflower was dry and required a great deal of salt just to make it edible. To top it off, I had burnt the rice I made to go with it.

That experience was enough for me to want to take a break from cauliflower forever. But Heidi at 101Cookbooks convinced me to give it another try.

She posted a "Simple Cauliflower Recipe", and I have to say, I am a cauliflower convert. It was flavorful and delicious--oh, and cheap! I've even broken down the prices in the ingredient list (though I did not include prices for staples like olive oil and salt). I may have made out better than most being that I was able to go the West Side Market before closing time today, but I'd guess prices would be similar at other farmer's markers. Also, keep in mind there was plenty of garlic, green onions, and Parmesan cheese left over.

It would make a great side to some roast or grilled chicken breast, despite it being great on its own. I would be curious to toss it with some pasta, too.

Pan-Toasted Cauliflower

Serves 2 to 3 as a side, 1 if you're me

1 medium head of cauliflower ($0.75)
2 Tb olive oil
1-2 cloves garlic ($0.99)
1-2 inches from a bunch of green onions ($0.49)
Zest of one lemon ($0.25)
Grated Parmesan ($0.89)

Salt

1. To prep the cauliflower, remove any leaves at the base and trim the stem. Now cut it into tiny trees - and by tiny, I mean most florets aren't much larger than a table grape (listen, I didn't think she was serious either. But the smaller the pieces the better. Use your hands, not your knife, to break apart the florets). Make sure the pieces are relatively equal in size, so they cook in the same amount of time. Rinse under running water, and set aside.

2. Heat the olive oil and a heavy pinch of salt in a large skillet over medium-high heat. When hot (throw a piece of cauliflower in there at the beginning. When it begins to bubble around it, it's hot enough), add the cauliflower and stir until the florets are coated.

3. Wait until it gets a bit brown on the bottom, then toss the cauliflower with a spatula (No, really, wait! It's hard and you're worried they're burning, but try not to turn them too much). Brown a bit more and continue to saute until the pieces are deeply golden - all told about six minutes. In the last 30 seconds stir in the garlic.

4. Remove from heat and stir in the green onions, lemon zest, and dust with a bit of freshly grated Parmesan cheese and a pinch of salt. Serve immediately.

Heidi has some great variations on this recipe here, so be sure to check them out. Also, the total cost for this recipe, with ingredients to spare, was $3.37. Let's also not forget that cauliflower is a pretty healthy option, too.

I've been having a great time exploring West Side Market, and you'll be hearing all about the fresh pasta from Ohio City Pasta soon!

Never too warm for soup...right?

2009-05-25T14:45:00.000-07:00

Here's another Smitten Kitchen recipe that has been a hit at least twice. If looks as though the meat balls are floating above the cutting board--they're in a glass pyrex. I'm a meatball making pro after making (literally) thousands for Karen Hunter--all in uniform size and shape.

I also admit that it is too warm for soup. I made this soup forever ago, when snow was still a possibility, and kept forgetting to post it. But this soup is delicious and filling--I can barely handle one bowl. And who knows: I have a sweater and a flannel on today. It is kind of cold in Cleveland.

I used Rapunzel vegan bullion cubes instead of the chicken broth, mostly because it's cheaper and still tastes fantastic, however, it's probably also more healthful. I can also never find escarole, and instead decided on spinach, which is just delicious wilted in soup.

Spinach and Orzo Soup with Meatballs
from Smitten Kitchen

1 large egg
2 tablespoons water
1/4 cup plain dried breadcrumbs
12 ounces lean ground turkey
1/4 cup freshly grated Parmesan cheese
2 tablespoons chopped fresh Italian parsley
2 garlic cloves, minced
3/4 teaspoon salt
1/4 teaspoon ground black pepper
8 cups (or more) low-salt chicken broth, or 3-4 Rapunzel Vegan Bullion Cubes (Herb with Sea salt)
1 cup chopped peeled carrots
3/4 cup orzo (rice-shaped pasta)
4 cups baby or chopped spinach (1 bag)

1. Whisk egg and 2 tablespoons water in medium bowl to blend. Mix in breadcrumbs; let stand 5 minutes.
2. Add turkey, Parmesan cheese, parsley, garlic, salt, and pepper; gently stir to blend. Using wet hands, shape turkey mixture into 1 1/4-inch-diameter meatballs. Place on baking sheet; cover and chill 30 minutes. While you wait, chop the carrots.
3. Bring 8 cups chicken broth/water with bullion cubes to boil in large pot. Add carrots and orzo; reduce heat to medium and simmer uncovered 8 minutes.
4. Add turkey meatballs and simmer 10 minutes.
5. Stir in spinach and simmer until turkey meatballs, orzo, and spinach are tender, about 5 minutes longer.
6. Season soup to taste with salt and pepper. (Can be made 2 hours ahead. Rewarm over medium heat, thinning with more broth if desired.) Ladle soup into bowls and serve.

I miss fruit picking.

2009-05-22T18:13:00.000-07:00

Over the summer, the days I am home are usually built around two questions:

1) Am I working for Karen Hunter?
2) What is Alex doing?

Imagine my bewilderment without either, but especially without Alex, who goes fruit picking with me, helps plans cobbler night, and appreciates a good sock pattern.

So we've started a blog together, here, to catalogue our adventures while we're apart. Both of us will post one to a few photos everyday. Today was day two.

I'm coming back this weekend to deliver a very belated soup recipe, with accompanying matzoh.

Make me a bug.

2009-05-18T08:20:00.000-07:00

Today is my first day working at the UCC's national office in Cleveland. I'm really excited about being able to work here--I got on the elevator at one point today and had a moment of "Oh my goodness, this is my life."

I'll be working primarily on myucc, which is the UCC's answer to social networking. We're on myspace, facebook, and twitter, of course, but having our own system will give us the opportunity to start really specialized groups, with their own blogs, and make communication that much more effective and cohesive across the denomination.

But if you've visited the website in the past month or so, you've noticed these bugs all over the website. Of course, the bugs are "theological" in the sense of "All things bright and beautiful/All creatures great and small/All things wise and wonderful/The Lord God made us all". But David Runnion-Bareford, of Biblical Witness Fellowship, had a different take on things:

"Non-UCC friends of ours who believe with some reason that the UCC has long been a bacterial infection in the blood stream of the American church have chimed in with the prophecy in Joel about God’s judgment on an unfaithful people, Joel 1:4, “that which the palmerworm hath left hath the locust eaten; and that which the locust hath left hath the cankerworm eaten; and that which the cankerworm hath left hath the caterpillar eaten.” Self-revelation is always an amazing phenomenon, and perhaps the UCC website’s infatuation with the bugs as a self-image is more profound than anyone anticipated?"

Immediately after reading that, I had a different thought:

Dear God, make me a bug. Let me chew like a termite at the structures of oppression and injustice. Help me be like a spider and spin a web that catches joy, hope, and love. Make me like an ant, strong and hardworking in Your name. Amen.

Also, I saw a new poster today that plays with the "UCC" acronym (you know how we love our acronyms...OGM, JWM, PAM, COREM, MRSEJ, CYYAM, PFKAPOC, just to name a few). The one I saw was "Unapologetic Church of Crossdressers". After writing a 15 page paper on drag queens, it warmed my heart to see that.

If you are UCC, you should make my life easier and get on over to the website, sign up for myucc, and explore. Also, check out Schatzi's blog. Sure, Schatzi is a cat, but the blog is hilarious.

Poached Eggs and Asparagus.

2009-05-16T06:59:00.000-07:00

I can't even remember where I saw asparagus and a poached egg for the first time. Whether it was on someone's food blog or in Gourmet, I don't know, but something intrigued me. Never mind that I had never eaten a poached egg (or made one, for that matter), I thought that I might like it.

Eggs are everywhere these days. Yes, I know you've always been able to get them in grocery stores--I mean people seeing eggs as a versatile and inexpensive protein source. I'm fairly certain there was a spread in Gourmet not too long ago about them.

For the poached egg over asparagus, I simply blanched the asparagus for about a minute, poached the egg (to the best of my ability--I can't tell you how to do this just yet, I'm still trying to figure it out myself), and sprinkled it with Parmesan cheese and black pepper. It was delicious, even if the egg wasn't poached right.

I tried it again a few times (both immediately afterwards and over the next few days) and have had varying levels of success. So I'll throw this question out there--how do you poach an egg?

Ramen.

2009-05-07T21:28:00.000-07:00

I love good Asian food, be it Thai, Chinese, Japanese, Indian or Malaysian. But more often then not I'm afraid to cook it myself. I had one bad experience after another concocting sauces for cellophane and soba noodles--sauces involving peanut butter, brown sugar, lemon juice and soy sauce in various combinations that were some of few things I've ever made and deemed "inedible".

I had never bought ramen until a few weeks ago. My dad is always eating it at home--I think it's one of very few things he knows how to make. I was thinking of something else to toss broccoli with and it hit me--ramen without the broth packet! I could eliminate the sodium (though the amount of soy sauce I use could negate that...) and turn that $.30 wonder into a well-balanced meal!

But what sauce would I use? I decided to keep it simple and toss the noodles, pan-steamed broccoli and some sauteed tofu (to warm it through) with soy sauce and just a touch of chili garlic sauce. I've also used bottled teriaki sauce. I just invested in some toasted sesame oil--I'll let you know how that goes.

This meal has been a real life saver this week. I'm in the midst of starting the second of three papers due Monday. To get a carb, a veggie, and some protein all in one bowl in under ten minutes (for $1.50, more or less) is pretty incredible.

Sweet Tea.

2009-04-25T06:06:00.000-07:00

If you know me well at all, you know how much I love iced tea.

In 2005, I was in Atlanta, Georgia for the United Church of Christ's General Synod. I had my first taste of real sweet tea and thought it was the greatest thing I'd ever tasted. Fast forward to the summer of 2006, where a certain North Carolina native at Lancaster Theological Seminary's Leadership Academy made a pitcher of homemade sweet tea.

Shortly thereafter, I started making my own. It's one of few recipes I can make without a second thought, probably because I make it so often.

In honor of the near-90 degree weather this weekend (which was my birthday, and was excellent):

Sweet Tea
8-10 tea bags (Luzienne is arguably the most "authentic" brand)
1 cup sugar
4 cups water

1. Boil 4 cups water in a medium saucepan.
2. Remove from heat, stir in sugar and add tea bags. Allow to steep for 20-30 minutes.
3. Add ice to a half gallon pitcher. Pour "sweet tea syrup" over ice, and add water to sufficiently fill the half gallon pitcher.

Butterscotch Puddin'.

2009-04-22T19:55:00.000-07:00

After getting my wisdom teeth out, I never thought I'd want to eat pudding again.

And then, on the "Contents" page of Gourmet's February 2009 issue was this recipe for butterscotch pudding.

It sounded so easy. It looked so sinfully smooth and velvety. I decided about ten minutes after picking up the magazine that I would make it--that very night.

And it was easy, and it was sinfully smooth and velvety. And it was sweet. I mean, I like sweet, but this stuff is sweet. It's not too sweet though, if you eat it with the whipped cream, or some bananas like I did.

My only complaint is that this recipe serves four and I am only one. It was hard finding other pudding lovers that week, so I ended up eating the whole batch myself. I know, I know--how terrible.

Butterscotch Pudding
from Gourmet, Feb. 2009

1/2 c packed dark brown sugar
2 Tbsp plus 2 tsp cornstarch
1/4 tsp salt
1 1/2 c heavy cream
2 Tbsp unsalted butter, cut into bits
1 tsp pure vanilla extract

1. Butter a sheet of wax paper the size of your serving bowl (you'll need it in the last step). Whisk together brown sugar, cornstarch and salt in a heavy medium saucepan, then whisk in milk and cream.
2. Bring to a boil over medium heat, whisking frequently, then boil, whisking, 1 minute.
3. Remove from heat and whisk in butter and vanilla.
4. Pour into a bowl, then cover surface with buttered wax paper and chill until cold, at least 1 1/2 hours.
5. Before serving, whisk remaining heavy cream until light and fluffy for whipped cream.

The buttered wax paper prevents the pudding from developing an icky skin on top. I kept it on throughout the pudding's stay in the fridge, but I also covered it with a lid which, I think, damaged the consistency.

On Rachel Maddow:

2009-04-12T19:41:00.000-07:00

I have really enjoyed reading about the prophets this semester. I think most people think of prophets like fortune tellers. True, there are some oracles in Isaiah, Jeremiah, Micah, etc. But the prophets are more political and social commentary than fortune telling.

My Old Testament professor likened prophets, like Jeramiah, to modern comedians--speaking Truth in a very particular style that is almost subversive and garners them lots of attention. I think a better metaphor would be "political comedians" like Jon Stewart and Stephen Colbert. The prophets of the Bible are absolutely political--and while not that funny--they seem to be inspired by God to fight important issues and spread "truthiness".

I think Rachel Maddow is a modern day prophet (or an angel). Or at least like a prophet.

I saw the "Storm is Coming" commercial sometime last week and panicked a little. These people were convincing, and racially/age diversified, so much so that without sound, you could assume it was pro-gay marriage. Then I stumbled upon these Rachel Maddow clips.

Not only is Rachel Maddow right, but she's funny (and sassy!). She has a similar sense of humor I imagine God has. The kind of sense of humor that asks, "Really. Really?" The kind of sense of humor that sees stupidity, chuckles, and mercifully remembers to love the least (smart) of these.

I also call Rachel Maddow a prophet for reporting on something that just must be divinely inspired. The audition tapes being leaked? A rainbow coalition? 2M4M? I think something bigger than us is trying to say something. Rachel Maddow appears to be listening and spreading a good word. Take a look for yourself:

Broccoli, two ways.

2009-04-09T09:50:00.000-07:00

I was never one of those kids that didn't like broccoli. You've already heard my rant about how much I love brussel sprouts, so I'll spare you that.

Last week I bought two heads of broccoli. It's now almost in season and pretty cheap (if you're buying it off the back of a truck on 13th and Oxford). I ate them two different ways, each easy, cheap and delicious.

The first way you see broccoli is roasted, with shrimp. I don't ordinarily buy real protein--I eat more beans and tofu than I do chicken and fish. But this recipe is a darling of the food blog community (much like no-knead bread)--everyone was making and obsessing over it.

I can understand why. The broccoli gets tender, sweet and deeply flavorful, and the shrimp get cooked perfectly and stay juicy. Oh, and the hardest part is waiting for dinner to be ready.

I halved the recipe, as I was cooking for one, and had plenty for lunch the next day. I also edited the spices a little bit, because I loathe coriander. Watch the quantities in the recipe, not in the ingredient list--most of them get divided. The broccoli also goes in before the shrimp--a point I missed--so I just roasted them for an extra 5 minutes. Everything was fine.

Roasted Broccoli with Shrimp

From The Wednesday Chef

2 pounds broccoli, cut into bite-size florets
4 tablespoons (1/4 cup) extra virgin olive oil
1/2 teaspoon ground cumin
1 1/2 teaspoons kosher salt
1 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper
1/8 teaspoon hot chili powder
1 pound large shrimp, shelled and deveined (you can buy them this way at Whole Foods)
1 1/4 teaspoons lemon zest (from 1 large lemon)
Lemon wedges, for serving

1. Preheat oven to 425 degrees. In a large bowl, toss broccoli with 2 tablespoons oil, cumin, 1 teaspoon salt, 1/2 teaspoon pepper and chili powder. In a separate bowl, combine shrimp, remaining 2 tablespoons oil, lemon zest, remaining 1/2 teaspoon salt and remaining 1/2 teaspoon pepper.

2. Spread broccoli in a single layer on a baking sheet. Roast for 10 minutes. Add shrimp to baking sheet and toss with broccoli. Roast, tossing once halfway through, until shrimp are just opaque and broccoli is tender and golden around edges, about 10 minutes more. Serve over rice with lemon wedges, or squeeze lemon juice all over shrimp and broccoli just before serving.

The second offering I have is one that I've made before. I can't find the post, but instead of orecchiette, I used tennis racket shaped pasta and so much cayenne pepper it was barely edible.

I've toned down the recipe since then, but still used cayenne because I lack red pepper flakes.

Spicy Orecchiette with Broccoli
From Martha Stewart's Everyday Food

12 oz. Orecchiette or other short pasta
2 cloves garlic
2 Tb olive oil
1/4 t or less cayenne pepper, or 1/4 to 1/2 t red pepper flakes
1 head broccoli, cut into bite-size florets
1/2 cup good parmesan

1. In a large pot of boiling salted water, cook pasta until al dente. Reserve 1/2 cup pasta water; drain pasta and return to pot.

2. While pasta is cooking, heat oil in a large skillet over medium. Add garlic and cayenne/red-pepper flakes; cook, stirring occasionally, until garlic is golden, 1 to 2 minutes. Add broccoli and 1/2 cup water; season with salt and pepper. Cover and cook until broccoli begins to soften, about 8 minutes. Uncover and continue to cook until water has evaporated and broccoli is crisp-tender, 1 to 2 minutes more.

3. To pasta in pot, add broccoli mixture, Parmesan (reserving some for later), and enough pasta water to create a thin sauce that coats pasta. Serve sprinkled with remaining Parmesan.

This technique is called "pan steaming" which allows you to steam, then caramelize the vegetable afterwards. I use it for brussel sprouts all the time.

Things to look forward to: finished knitting projects, "the quilt", more dessert, meatballs, sweet tea, matzoh, and a love letter to a brownie.

On being American:

2009-04-06T20:33:00.000-07:00

This is barely theological, but I think Ben Folds and Nanci Griffith gave me some food for thought this week, especially in light of the new legislation in Iowa (!).

Hey son, look at the people lining up for plastic
like to see them in the National Geographic
squatting bare-assed in the dirt eating rice from a bowl
wearing a towel on their head or maybe a bone in their nose
...
God made us number one because he loves us the best
maybe he should go bless someone else and give us a rest

I am a backseat driver in America
I am not at the wheel of control
I am guilty, I am war, I am the root of all evil
Lord, and I can't drive on the left side of the road

And on Iowa, and why I am so glad (and not surprised) Iowa has passed legislation on gay marriage:

Just watch the first 2 minutes 30 seconds.

Chocolate Cake.

2009-03-24T10:48:00.000-07:00

Clearly, I was in a rush when I took these photos. That's because there was two tablespoons of flour in this cake (it was also Valentines Day). A flourless chocolate cake is not a new concept--it's called fudge. And I certainly don't mean that in any kind of disparaging or condescending way--I love this cake.

I also have to say, that while the cake was clearly the star of the evening, the ice cream was pretty excellent, too. This is Bassett's (yes, the one in Reading Terminal), who have very reasonably priced pints at Whole Foods.

But seriously, if you like chocolate, you should probably preheat the oven now.

Baked Fudge Cake
From Short and Sweet by Melanie Barnard

1 lb. (2 2/3 cups) semisweet chocolate chips
10 Tb unsalted butter
4 large eggs, at room temperature
2 Tb flour
1 t instant espresso or coffee powder

1. Preheat the oven. Butter a 9-inch cake pan and line the bottom with a round of wax or parchment paper.
2. In a medium saucepan, melt the butter and chocolate together, stirring until the chocolate is about half melted. Remove pan from heat and continue stirring until the mixture is melted and smooth. Set aside to cool for a few minutes.
3. Beat the eggs with an electric mixer on medium low in a large mixing bowl until frothy. Raise the speed to high and beat until the eggs are light in color, thick, fluffy, and almost triple in volume (about 5 minutes). Beat in the flour and espresso or coffee powder.
4. Stir about one fourth of the egg mixture into the chocolate to lighten it, then fold the chocolate mixture into the eggs.
5. Pour the batter in to the pan. Bake for 17 minutes. Cool for 10, then refrigerate for 30.
6. Add ice cream. Prepare yourself.

Polenta Cake.

2009-03-24T10:27:00.000-07:00

I use cornmeal to dust the bottom of my bread loaves. I don't have much use for it otherwise--I'm not a huge polenta fan. It's a pity, too, because cornmeal is so darn cheap.

So imagine my excitement when I read about this cake, which promised a buttery denseness with just enough texture to keep me entertained. I was in. I made it one Wednesday night while everyone was fully engrossed in "LOST".

The cake calls for some kind of sauce to be poured over top, and not fresh fruit, which makes it a great winter alternative to a pie or chocolate-based dessert. I thought the jam Alex made this summer would be a perfect compliment. I can't remember what combination of fruit the jam is--raspberry plum, maybe? I heated up the glass jar (with the metal lid removed) in the microwave for just a few seconds to make it pourable.

The cake was also great the next morning for breakfast. Then again, my favorite thing to eat at breakfast-time is a brownie. Feel free to test that theory though.

I didn't have a tart pan with a removable bottom, so I just used a trusty cake pan covered in parchment I cut in a circle (and that trick, my friends, is for another day).

Polenta Cake
Serves 8
1/2 cup (1 stick) butter, room temperature (save the wrapper!)
1/4 cup plus 2 tablespoons fine to medium grind cornmeal plus 2 teaspoons for dusting pan
1/2 cup brown sugar, not packed
2 eggs, room temperature
3 egg yolks, room temperature
1/8 teaspoon vanilla extract
1/2 cup plus 2 tablespoons flour
1 1/4 teaspoons baking powder
1/4 teaspoon salt
2 teaspoons granulated sugar for dusting

1. Heat the oven to 375 degrees. Use the wrapper to grease a 9-inch removable bottom tart pan; dust with 2 teaspoons cornmeal.
2. Using an electric mixer, cream the butter and brown sugar until light in color and fluffy, 1 1/2 to 2 minutes. Scrape the bowl and add the eggs and egg yolks, one at a time, beating thoroughly after each addition. Stir in the vanilla extract.
3. Sift the flour, remaining corn meal, baking powder and salt together and fold into the mixture.
4. Spread the batter evenly into the prepared pan (it might be hard to spread--don't worry about getting it all the way to the edges). Sprinkle the sugar evenly on top. Bake for 20 to 24 minutes. Remove from the oven and set aside to cool. Serve with jam.

On trusting God:

2009-03-20T19:58:00.000-07:00

Sojourner Truth was in the audience at Faneuil Hall in Boston in 1847 when Frederick Douglass , despairing that slavery could be abolished peaceably, began to advocate insurrection. Indicting his lack of faith in God's goodness, Truth stood up and asked, “Frederick, is God dead?”

I think the answer is in the question.

I'm not Italian.

2009-03-18T07:02:00.000-07:00

Considering how difficult it was for Matt to pick a birthday dessert, I'm sure you can imagine the difficulty of picking a main dish. He didn't say much, but I remember spaghetti being part of our conversation one day. I don't ever make spaghetti, and certainly not with my own homemade red sauce.

This is because I live with the ultimate critic: Marc Piscitello is Italian. I call his dad "Don Vito". He fries Italian breadcrumbs like his grandma to put on top of pasta.

But here I was, about to feed ten people. As countless church suppers have proven, if you're trying to feed a lot of people easily, make spaghetti. I decided to risk Marc's judgement.

A bottled sauce, of course, would not do. Molly over at Orangette (who just released a book) posted this recipe, which sounded easy enough, ages ago. And how could I not love something with "onions" and "butter" in the title?

And honestly, the sauce was great. But the real winner here are the onions that Molly "discards" at the end of the recipe (I edited that part out...no one should make that mistake). These onions have been simmering in tomatoes for about an hour, getting sweet and melty. They were great with a sprinkling of salt and some Parmesan.

I suppose I should have asked Marc what he thought before I wrote this entry. I know he didn't have anything negative to say that night, so one can infer that didn't not like it. Oh, and Matt did, which I suppose was the important part. It was his birthday after all.

Tomato sauce with Onions and Butter
from Orangette
2 cups whole, peeled, canned plum tomatoes, chopped, with their juices (about one 28-oz. can)
5 Tbsp. unsalted butter
1 medium yellow onion, peeled and cut in quarters
Salt, to taste

Combine the tomatoes, their juices, the butter, and the onion quarters in a medium saucepan. Add a pinch or two of salt. Place over medium heat and bring to a simmer. Cook, uncovered, at a very slow but steady simmer, adjusting the heat as necessary, for about 45 minutes, or until droplets of fat float free from the tomato. Stir occasionally, mashing any large pieces of tomato with the back of a wooden spoon. Taste and salt as needed.

St. Patrick's Day.

2009-03-18T06:38:00.000-07:00

This is probably one of the least Irish meals I could make, but yesterday I committed myself to Karen Hunter's Chicken Dijon. And I am so glad I did. I wish I could share the recipe with you, but I can't, because I am bound to secrecy. I was told that (1) I cannot share the recipe and (2) cannot start my own catering business. As long as I get to enjoy Karen Hunter's Chicken Dijon at home, that is fine with me.

I served it alongside some leftover spinach noodle nests and sauteed carrots. I hadn't intended to plate the meal like the Irish flag, but considering the holiday, I thought it would be appropriate.

Just...puffs.

2009-03-09T18:47:00.000-07:00

When I asked Matt what kind of dessert he wanted for his birthday, I think he just said, "Creampuffs!" so I would get off his back about it. He probably didn't expect me to actually make them.

Technically, I didn't, because heavy cream totally slipped my mind while at the store. I also didn't think about putting the chocolate ganache inside the puffs--I was cooking for 10 and had a lot on my mind. So I served pastry puffs drizzled with chocolate.

I have to say, I really surprised myself (not to mention Matt). Making choux pastry is so, so easy. I used Julia Child's recipe from Mastering the Art of French Cooking-- which is an absolutely fabulous, easy to read and follow cookbook. It is simply a cooked pastry with eggs whisked in at the end. The puffs were then piped directly onto parchment. I don't have a pastry bag and tip (even though they're relatively cheap), so I just cut the tip off a plastic baggie.

I was almost glad I didn't fill them--someone brought M&Ms and stuffed them inside.

Moroccan Stew

2009-02-28T06:52:00.000-08:00

I saw Aida make this dish on FoodNetwork over winter break. The fact that I remember this is all too impressive--I had my wisdom teeth removed and remember very little from those few pudding-filled days of my life. It reappeared on SmittenKitchen when I returned to school, and I couldn't help but whip up a batch.

This recipe would have served a lot of people. I'm fairly certain just Matt and I ate it that night, and then I had leftovers for the rest of the week. Every morning I'd make some Minute-Rice to pack along with some of this stew.

And what a stew it was! I loved the combination of chickpeas and butternut squash, and the heartiness of the potatoes. If I would have added the olives, I'm sure I would have loved it even more. If you've never tried cinnamon in savory food, this is a good first step. This stew isn't hot like you'd expect either, but extremely fragrant from the cinnamon and a little spicy from the cumin.

I omitted some ingredients and changed the recipe to be a more "on the fly" (read: realistic) version, so I can't speak to its authenticity (see Smitten Kitchen's version here, which includes saffron, preserved lemon, cilantro and almonds). It is, however, delicious.

With this recipe, I found it very wise to chop everything ahead of time, as if you were doing a demo on television.

Moroccan Stew
Serves 6-8
1 tablespoon unsalted butter
1 tablespoon olive oil
1 medium yellow onion, small dice
4 medium cloves garlic, diced
2 teaspoons ground cumin
1/4 teaspoon cinnamon or 1 (3-inch) cinnamon stick (if you've got that on hand)
Salt and freshly ground black pepper
1 pound butternut squash, large dice
3/4 pound potatoes, large dice (the recipe suggests red, I used Idaho because they were on sale)
2 cups low-sodium chicken or vegetable broth (I used Rapunzel Vegan Herb Bullion cubes)
1 (14-ounce) can chickpeas, drained (roughly two cups)
1 (14-ounce) can diced tomatoes, with juices
1 cup brined green olives (optional)

1. Heat butter and olive oil in a good, solid soup pot or dutch oven (with a lid) over medium heat. Add onion, garlic, cumin, and cinnamon, and season with salt and freshly ground black pepper. Cook, stirring occasionally, until spices are aromatic and onions are soft and translucent, about 5 minutes.

2. Add squash and potatoes, season with salt and freshly ground black pepper, stir to coat, and cook until just tender, about 3 minutes (Idaho potatoes will take longer).

3. Add broth (I used Rapunzel Vegan Herb Bullion cubes), chickpeas, tomatoes and their juices, and saffron, if using. Bring mixture to a boil then reduce heat to low. Cover and simmer until squash is fork tender, about 10 minutes.

4. Serve with rice or couscous.

Hummus, deconstructed.

2009-02-27T14:33:00.000-08:00

&
=

So now you have bread. Undoubtedly you have your favorite way to enjoy it--with wine, dipped in olive oil and cayenne pepper, spread with peanut butter, toasted with jam, smeared with nutella and topped with bananas...the list goes on.

But here's another way to do things. This sandwich recipe is almost like a deconstructed hummus. I was intrigued primarily because I love chickpeas, but also because there's a potato masher involved. Lord knows I love my potato masher, and have found enough uses for it to justify the dollar I spent on it.

This sandwich is also vegan (shhh!) and probably somewhat healthy, but please, don't let that stop you. It keeps well wrapped up in a sandwich or in the fridge and, depending on how much olive oil you 'glug' in, will not make your bread mushy.

Deconstructed Hummus Sandwich

Courtesy SmittenKitchen

Makes about 4 sandwiches

1 loaf no-knead bread

1 15-ounce can chickpeas, drained and rinsed

2 tablespoons pitted, halved and very thinly sliced black olives

1 tablespoon finely chopped red onion

1 tablespoon chopped fresh parsley

Zest and juice from half a lemon

Couple good pinches of salt

A few grinds of black pepper

A few glugs of olive oil

1. Combine ingredients in a medium bowl.

2. Using the back of a fork or a potato masher, lightly smash the chickpea mixture until you're somewhere between a coarse chop and a puree. This is a wide margin of texture, I know, but you want there to still be visible pieces of chickpea but enough puree to hold the mixture together.

3. Spoon the mixture on to the bread. Use the back of the spoon to spread and condense it.

It really is that easy. The olives lend the saltiness, the lemon the acidity, the parsley a fresh taste, and the red onions a spicy note. The chickpeas are an excellent vehicle for all these strong flavors. I'd call it a well constructed deconstruction.

Here's one for a bad week, as it seems many of us had:

Love Does That
Meister Eckhart

All day long a little burro labors, sometimes
with heavy loads on her back and sometimes just with worries
about things that bother only
burros.

And worries, as we know, can be more exhausting
than physical labor.

Once in a while a kind monk comes
to her stable and brings
a pear, but more
than that,

he looks into the burro's eyes and touches her ears

and for a few seconds the burro is free
and even seems to laugh,

because love does
that.

Love frees.

Sacrament.

2009-02-18T19:10:00.001-08:00

I have a petty complaint to share. Pastors and future pastors take note.

Nothing bothers me more than awful communion bread. Let's be honest--when we're talking about Christ's body, I do not imagine perfectly cut, crustless cubes that taste pasty and bland. How do you expect that to transubstantiate? Christ's body has heft, heartiness, and rough edges. It has a good crust, but is soft and chewy on the inside.

I have found such a bread. I have made such a bread.

To you foodies out there, you've read this all before. This is the NY Times bread, which exploded on the internet a long time ago. I, however, did not have the proper pot for it. Now that I say it, I still don't have the proper pot, but it will be a long time before I can afford a Le Creseut. I found this beauty (pictured) at the Philly AIDS Thrift for $9 and because it is heavy construction and lid, does the job.

So how do you make this miraculous (pun intended) bread?

I'll tell you one thing--there's no kneading involved. So all you faint-of-heart who shy away from breadmaking for fear you will become fatigued (or grotesquely muscular), do not fear. Simply mix the ingredients, and let rise for 18 hours. Fold it over itself twice and let it rise for two more. Pop it in the oven for half an hour or so. Breadmaking sans bread machine does not get easier or more delicious.

I'm going to pass along Smitten Kitchen's version of the recipe, because it is artfully written and takes great care to explain the difference in yeasts to novice cooks like myself.

In exchange, I'll offer you one of my favorite poems (introduced to me by a dear friend), perhaps of all time.

Sacrament II

Kathy Galloway

I have sat here many times

watching the breaking of the bread

and the raising of the cup,

and felt many things.

Anger at exclusion,

shame at division,

incomprehension at abstraction,

sadness at separation,

frustration at a beautiful simplicity

tangled into twists of dogma.

But this is a gift.

It is a sacramental moment.

This is, after all,

the sacrament of brokenness.

Bread is not broken to be stuck back together.

Life is not broken to be stuck back together.

Wine is not poured out to be put back in the bottle.

Life is not poured out to be put back in the bottle.

We incorporate brokenness into ourselves

and are made whole.

This absence is an appropriate remembering.

I am nourished by my empty-handedness,

refreshed by my dry throat.

These, more than the other, will ensure

that I will sit at dinner with my children,

in a cafe with a friend,

in a bar with strangers

and it will all be remembering

and it will all be sacrament.

May it be so.

Heart and Soul.

2009-02-15T06:59:00.000-08:00

These two photos are probably confusing you right now.

For starters, the first photo certainly doesn't look like the second. The second photo has (!) meat in it, too. What is going on here?

Making stock should be a basic part of any cook's repertoire. It is also extremely expensive to buy. I read somewhere about making stock from a rotisserie chicken--which I knew were sold at Bobby Chez (South, between Broad and 13th) on Sundays for $5. So for $5, I could have both the stock and the meat for a hearty chicken noodle soup.

The rest of the ingredients for stock I already had on hand, mostly because the ingredients for stock are things we would ordinarily throw away. The chicken carcass, onion skins, cheese rinds, unused portions of carrots and celery are really all you need.

I've started collecting stock items in the freezer. I cut the top off a 2 liter soda bottle and started saving onion skins, cheese rinds, root vegetables that were about to go bad...I'll be ready for stock any time.

Chicken Stock

Makes enough for one pot of soup.

Remember, this ingredient list is not absolute. This is just what I used.

1 rotisserie chicken carcass, with some meat/skin left on

2-3 quartered onions, with skins, bottoms and tops lobbed off

3-4 carrots, unpeeled, broken into 4-5 pieces

3-4 celery stalks, with leaves, broken into 4-5 pieces

3-4 cloves of garlic, cut in half

Bay leaf

1 tsp. rosemary

1 tsp. thyme

1/4 tsp. black pepper

1. Add all items to a 4 qt. pot. Cover with cool water. Bring to boil.
2. Reduce the heat to a slow simmer. Let the stock simmer from an 1.5-2 hours. It should reduce to 1 qt. of liquid.
3. Let the liquid cool a bit and then strain using a fine sieve into a container.
4. Refrigerate until ready for use. You can skim the fat once the broth is cool, too.

I'm very particular about my chicken noodle soup. I find the chicken in just about any canned soup too mushy and, dare I say, sketchy looking. That's why I was so excited to get roasted white-meat chicken in this soup, that I myself could pick over and control.

This soup, like stock, is also open to interpretation. I like a lot of vegetables in mine, so my soup probably had even more than listed.

Chicken Noodle Soup
Serves a lot of people.

Stock (recipe above) or 6 cups of your favorite
1 carrot, diced
1 onion, diced
1-2 celery stalks, diced
1-2 garlic cloves, finely chopped
1 Tb olive oil
Salt and pepper
3/4 box Alphabet noodles (I'm not sure what the proportions would be for another type of noodle...but these are really fun. Hard to drain, but really fun.)
Half the meat from a rotisserie chicken, or one breast, chopped into bite-size pieces

1. In your soup pot, saute the onion, garlic, carrot and celery in olive oil until softened. Season with salt and pepper.
2. Add the stock. Cook at a medium simmer until vegetables have softened, about 20-25 minutes.
3. Meanwhile, cook your pasta to 'al dente' according to package directions. To drain the alphabet noodles, use a fine sieve or a colander lined with a clean, cloth dishtowel.
4. Add the pasta and the chicken. Let simmer for 10 or so minutes, until the chicken is warmed through.

I added more thyme, rosemary, black pepper, and plenty of salt to this, too.

This soup goes great with the pretzel rolls and with the NY Times Bread I'll be showing you next.

X marks the spot.

2009-02-10T17:47:00.000-08:00

They're opening an Auntie Anne's Pretzels on campus. My M-W-F lunch friends have been sitting across from it for weeks, (im)patiently waiting for it to open. The smoothie place went out. The blue and white tile went up. We watched training happen. Today I left work ten minutes early to stand in line before lunch, and got two pretzels.

I love a good soft pretzel. Unfortunately, when I tried my hand at them, I was less than successful.

These pretzel rolls, however, made me feel much better about my pretzel making ability. I think they count as bread, since there is yeast involved, and I used them to create mini-sandwiches with some herb roasted turkey from Whole Foods and Dijon for lunch a few weeks ago.

Here's the recipe:

Pretzel Rolls
2 3/4 cups bread flour
1 envelope quick-rising yeast, or regular
1 teaspoon salt
1 teaspoon sugar
1 cup plus 2 tablespoons (about) hot water (125°F to 130°F)
Cornmeal
8 cups water
1/4 cup baking soda
2 tablespoons sugar
1 egg white, beaten
Coarse salt

1. Combine bread flour, 1 envelope yeast, 1 teaspoon salt and 1 teaspoon sugar in a large bowl with a whisk.
2. Using a wooden spoon, gradually pour hot water while mixing, adding enough water to form smooth elastic dough. Bop it around for about a minute to "knead" it.
3. Grease medium bowl (Use a butter wrapper--I save them in the freezer for the next time I need one). Add dough to bowl, turning to coat. Cover bowl with plastic wrap, then towel; let dough rise in warm draft-free area until doubled in volume, about 35 minutes (or longer if you didn't use quick-rising yeast).
4. Flour baking sheet, or clear area of counter. Punch dough down and knead on lightly floured surface until smooth. Divide into 8 pieces (So that's in half, in half again, and then one more time in half for you mathphobic among you, or me, who that helped). Form each dough piece into ball. Place dough balls on a floured baking sheet. Cover with towel and let dough balls rise until almost doubled in volume, about 20 minutes.
5. Preheat oven to 375 degrees F. Grease (or use parchment, like I did) another baking sheet and sprinkle with cornmeal. Bring 8 cups water to boil in large saucepan. Add baking soda and 2 tablespoons sugar (water will foam up). Add 4 rolls and cook 30 seconds per side. Using slotted spoon, transfer rolls to prepared sheet. Repeat with remaining rolls.
6. Using a serrated knife, cut an "X" on the top of each roll. Brush rolls with egg white glaze. Sprinkle rolls generously with coarse salt. Bake rolls until brown, about 25 minutes. Transfer to racks and cool 10 minutes. Serve rolls warm or room temperature.

They don't taste like Auntie Anne's, but they're good. Maybe one day I'll hunt down that recipe. Or work there long enough to steal it.

An affirmation.

2009-02-06T12:00:00.000-08:00

I was recently talking to a good friend about affirmation. We all have those moments when we're suffocated by uncertainty about what we're doing, even if we're normally very secure in ourselves and vocation.

My friend Courtney made these muffins a few weeks ago and referred to them as "Cody's Muffins". If that isn't an affirmation--that what I love to do, I also do well--I don't know what is.

These are the infamous banana chocolate chip muffins, arguably my most popular variety, which are sometimes topped with walnuts (that get all nice and toasty on top). The batch pictured I made for Matt one morning, and he brought them to his friend Joel, Joel's grandparents, Joel's girlfriend and his roommate. He also had about three himself. They got a little bit more brown than I like, but no one seemed to notice but me.

I also used dark chocolate in this batch, but everything from milk to peanut butter to semi-sweet to white will work.

Cody's Banana Chocolate Chip Muffins

Makes between a dozen and fifteen, depending on the size of your muffin tins and your generosity among the cups.

1 3/4 cups flour

1/2 cup sugar

1/4 cup light brown sugar
1 teaspoon baking powder
1/2 teaspoon baking soda
1/4 teaspoon salt
2 ounces (2 handfuls, about 3/4 cup I'd guess) chocolate chips

2 large eggs

8 tablespoons unsalted butter, melted and cooled
3 very ripe large bananas (approximately 1 pound) mashed well (about 1-1/2 cups)
1 teaspoon pure vanilla extract

An extra banana

1. Preheat the oven to 350. Microwave the butter until melted. Let cool in microwave.

2. Whisk the flour, white sugar, baking powder, baking soda and salt together in a medium bowl. Set aside.

3. Mash the bananas with a fork or potato masher (you need to get your hands on one, pronto) in a large bowl. Add the eggs, brown sugar, vanilla, and butter. Whisk together well.

4. Using a wooden spoon, mix the dry ingredients and chocolate chips with the wet just until combined. Batter should be a little lumpy.

5. Using two teaspoons or a 1" cookie scoop, spoon batter into muffin tins with cupcake liners (I've also just greased the pan well--if you like a little bit of a crispy muffin bottom, this is for you) until 3/4 full.

6. Slice the banana into 1/2" slices. Place on top of each muffin (Only do this if you'll be eating them the same day! The taste doesn't change but the look still does. They're also delicious with a little brown sugar, or a lone chocolate chip, on top of the banana. These muffins don't need much decorating, though.)

7. Bake for 20-25 minutes or until a toothpick, inserted in the middle of the muffin, comes out clean (aside from any melted chocolate, of course).

8. Let cool on wire racks, then wrap in a dishtowel and store at room temperature.

These'll last a few days on the counter, but I highly doubt they'll last even one.

I celebrated the inauguration by:

2009-01-25T14:19:00.000-08:00

Making cookies. However, when I made them this time, it was not because I was feeling sad. I was feeling more excited and hopeful than I have in awhile. I was rejoicing.

Then, on my Starbucks cup this past Friday (I count this as divine intervention):

"I have faith. Faith in our wondrous capacity for hope and good, love and trust, healing and forgiveness. Faith in the blessing of our infinite ability to wonder, question, pray, feel, think and learn. I have faith. Faith in the infinite possibilities of the human spirit." (James Brown)

Amen.

For some more in depth thoughts on Jesus and the inauguration, see Ben's blog post, here.

Coming soon: Banana chocolate chip muffins, NY Times bread, chicken stock, chick peas.

Featherlight Yeast Rolls.

2009-01-19T16:23:00.000-08:00

If Paula Deen is the queen of Southern cooking, then Edna Lewis is God. Edna Lewis ran Cafe Nicholson in New York--where greats such as Truman Capote, Harper Lee, William Faulkner and Tennessee Williams were frequent guests.

Her essay, "What is Southern?", the cornerstone of Gourmet's January 2008 issue profiling Southern cuisine, is only the beginning of our love affair. She says in the essay, "Southern is a great yeast roll, the dough put down overnight to rise and the next morning shaped into rolls and baked. Served hot form the oven, they are light as a dandelion in a high wind." Need I say more? The recipe--which calls for mashed potatoes--was intriguing enough to be my first foray into the kitchen this semester.

The dough (in the top photo), rose overnight in the fridge, completely filling the bowl which you see pictured there. Like the soft pretzel experience, I found myself completely inept at shaping the dough. The middle photo should show neat, even rows of six, four across. The good news is they still taste good, though they may not be aesthetically pleasing. It was the perfect recipe for the snowy day we had today, and a good excuse to blast the heat--the dough rises better when its warm.

Featherlight Yeast Rolls

Makes 24 rolls.

1 russet or baking potato (.5 lbs, or so), peeled and cut into 1-inch pieces

1/2 stick of unsalted butter, divided

1/2 cup whole milk

1 teaspoon salt

2 tablespoons sugar

1 (1/4 oz) package active dry yeast

2 2/3 cups all-purpose flour

1. Cover the potato with cold water in a medium saucepan (more than 2 cups for sure). Bring to a boil, then simmer, covered, until very tender (about 10 minutes). Reserve 1 cup cooking liquid (I used a ladle), then drain the potato well.

2. Melt 2.5 tablespoons butter. Mash 2 tablespoons of the butter with the potato. Stir in milk, salt, and sugar.

3. Cool 1/2 cup of the cooking liquid (I put mine in the freezer just after gathering it) and add yeast. Let stand for five minutes until foamy (you'll know). Stir into potato mixture.

4. Stir flour into the potato mixture with a wooden spoon until a soft dough forms.

5. Turn out dough onto a floured surface and knead, dusting surface and hands with just enough flour to keep dough from sticking, until smooth and elastic, about 10 minutes (This is a sticky dough, so keep the flour handy).

6. Brush a large bowl with the remaining .5 tablespoon of melted butter, then turn the dough in the bowl to coat. Cover tightly with plastic wrap and let rise in the refrigerator for 8 to 12 hours.

7. Punch down dough (No--really--punch it down, it is so fun. Do not knead, punch) and halve. Roll each half into a 12 inch long log on a very lightly floured surface with lightly floured hands. Cut each log into 12 equal pieces and roll each into a ball. Arrange into rows of 6 by 4 in a buttered (I under-did the butter--really grease that pan. I'm thinking about trying parchment next time) 13x9x2 baking pan. Cover pan with a kitchen towel (not terry cloth, though).

8. Let rolls rise in a warm room until doubled (they will fill the pan), about 1 to 1.5 hours.

9. Preheat the oven to 375 with the rack in the middle.

10. Brush the tops of the rolls with the remaining 1.5 tablespoons of melted butter. Bake until golden brown, 25 to 30 minutes. Loosen edges with a sharp knife, then transfer rolls to a rack to cool slightly.

Bread.

2009-01-16T13:47:00.000-08:00

The title of this blog is "Crashing the Last Supper". Aside from the witty play on religion and food, I also really like bread and wine.

I am the proud owner of a bread machine, but there's something more involved, maybe even sacred about kneading your own dough. This semester, I'm going to try baking bread, partly for the bread, and partly for the spiritual practice. I'll be testing a few different versions in the next few weeks--ones that don't require a machine, either. On the list are matzo, Algerian flat bread, Smitten Kitchen's wheat bread, brioche, and a version from Gourmet I picked up today at Reading Terminal (the Cookbook stall has back issues for 80 cents).

This past week, in terms of cooking, I have been a slacker. I cooked two favorites this week for Nina, Courtney, Gab, and friends--both of which have been posted before--a vegan version of the lentil soup (well, I added Parmesan to mine) and macaroni and cheese (with bacon!). I think its safe to say they were crowd-pleasers.

I'll be back in my kitchen on Sunday, with a new spice rack and a soup recipe, because it is too damn cold in Philadelphia.

Lima beans?!

2009-01-08T09:26:00.000-08:00

During finals week, I had two very good reasons not to cook. They were "Death and Dying" and "Christian History".

But, as I'm sure I've mentioned before, cooking helps me relax. I had all the ingredients for this dish already in the pantry (actually, in the pantry for weeks), and what could be more comforting on a snowy day than a bowl of soup?

There are only five ingredients in this soup. This is absolutely amazing to me, considering how ridiculously rich, filling and flavorful this soup is. Most of the flavor comes from the chipotle peppers in adobo sauce (this is a small, canned good found by the tortilla chips and salsa in Whole Foods). Add in the aromatics--the garlic and the onions--and it is impossible to find these lima beans bland.

Oh, did I fail to mention this was a lima bean soup? I know what you're thinking. "Lima beans, Cody? Really?" Well, I'm a convert. I was a little cautious scooping out of the bulk bin at Whole Foods, but found them a perfect canvas for the adobo, garlic, and onion. The beans soak up the flavors and become rich and hearty.

You might notice the whole head of garlic bobbing in the pot. It seems weird, but trust me--lob off the top and bottom, remove as much of the papery outside as you can, and toss it in the pot. The water in which the beans boil gets infused with all that garlic flavor.

Lima Beans in Chipotle Broth

from 101Cookbooks

1 pound dried baby lima beans, picked over and rinsed
10 cups water
1 head garlic, top lobbed off to expose the cloves and loose skins removed
2 tablespoons olive oil
1 onion, halved top to bottom and sliced into thin crescents
1 to 2 chipotles in adobo sauce
2 teaspoons salt

1. Rinse the beans in a collander. Throw them in the pot with the water and the garlic head. Let the beans simmer for 30-40 minutes. They should be "al-dente", not mushy. Taste them to check their doneness.

2. Saute the sliced onions (I used my mandoline slicer) with the chipotle peppers and two teaspoons of adobo sauce in the olive oil. I know it is tempting to put more in, because it doesn't look like much. But hold back. Try your best. Saute them just until soft, about 5 minutes.

3. Add the salt and onion mixture to the lima bean mix. Simmer for about five minutes.

4. Remove the garlic head just before serving.

I couldn't eat the whole batch myself, so I put some in the freezer to come back to next week. I am awful glad I did.

And sorry I didn't get a shot of the finished product. It is a beautifully colored broth. Check out Heather's shot (and original recipe) here.

Cookies (again).

2008-12-31T12:49:00.000-08:00

Even though all my cooking has been in Karen Hunter's kitchen lately, I wanted to share with you the latest incarnation of the Frog Commissary's Oatmeal Chocolate Chip cookies. Due to a lack of chocolate chips anywhere in walking distance of Temple's campus, I used Cadbury semi-sweet chocolate bars, chopped up. The "debris" created by chopping the chocolate laced the cookie with chocolate, a side effect I very much appreciated.

2009 is now upon us. I am already promising more recipes and stories about cheese (thanks to "A Passion for Cheese") and a trip through Julia Child's "Mastering the Art of French Cooking", stopping to pay homage to all five mother sauces.

I've wanted to share this poem for weeks now (based on my one of my favorite Psalms), but I think in the spirit of a new year, it is particularly appropriate:

O Taste and See

Denise Levertov

The world is

not with us enough.

O taste and see

the subway Bible poster said,

meaning The Lord, meaning

if anything all that lives

to the imagination's tongue

grief, mercy, language,

tangerine, weather, to

breathe them, bite,

savor, chew, swallow, transform

into our flesh, our

deaths, crossing the street, plum, quince,

living in the orchard and being

hungry, and plucking

the fruit.

Christmas Lasagna.

2008-12-19T15:29:00.000-08:00

When people ask me how I learned to cook, I never answer my mother. But in the process of making dinner for a few friends, I found that I wasn't quite sure how to order the layers in a lasagna. So I called her to ask a cooking question, probably for the first time ever.

You see, my mother makes a killer lasagna--without a recipe. She doesn't make it often, but when she does, it seems that I eat it for three meals at least without complaint. A few years ago my family decided that it would be fun to just have lasagna for Christmas. We had three different types: my mother's (obviously; a meat lasagna), a vegetable lasagna, and a seafood lasagna. It was arguably one of my favorite Christmases ever. My father was less than pleased ("Where was the ham?") and it never happened again.

I still can't help but think, as the holidays approach, of the now infamous "Lasagna Christmas". I had been craving both lasagna and comfort food in my last two weeks at school, so I decided for our Tuesday get-together to try a lasagna (spinach prosciutto lasagna, to be exact). My experience was less than satisfactory. No one complained except me, of course. I thought there was an imbalance of flavor--too much spinach, not enough ricotta, not enough sauce, not enough prosciutto (is there ever?). It probably didn't help that I half-assedly doubled the recipe. That's why the photo shows a double-stacked plate of leftover lasagna, with plenty of extra mozzarella and vodka sauce. I was eating leftover lasagna for days, mostly without complaint.

I came home, to sweet Coopersburg, early this evening. I was told Christmas dinner is at our house this year, and the menu is yet to be decided. I'm voting for lasagna, but only if my mother makes it.

Pancakes.

2008-12-15T16:10:00.000-08:00

My Uncle Dave is an architect. I think he missed his life's calling as a short-order cook. Every summer, for the week my family is at the shore, he cooks breakfast. When we were younger, he'd shape pancakes into daschunds and Mickey Mouse ears (actually, he stills does that). He's also brave in his flavor choices. Chocolate chips, obviously, are a favorite. This year he treated us to apple-cheddar and pecan pancakes. He also makes a killer omelet.

Last fall I decided that pancakes would be a good idea. I grabbed this recipe from who-knows-where, wrote it down in my sketchbook, and it worked like magic. The pancakes contained no water or oil, but rather vanilla, butter and whole milk. If you're already familiar with "mix just until combined", you can make a fantastic pancake. Pancake batter, like muffin batter, is supposed to be a little lumpy.

I make a fantastic homemade pancake mix, but I cannot, for the life of me, shape and flip a pancake. These, again, are one of my creations that tastes better than it looks. Uncle Dave certainly has me beat. I can't offer you any tips besides use a thin, metal spatula and try not to flip the pancake onto the floor, or worse, your shoe (it happens).

(Magic) Pancakes.

Makes a stack.
1.5 c flour

3 Tb sugar

1 Tb baking powder

1/4 t salt

2 eggs

1 1/4 c milk

1/2 t vanilla (eyeball it. I like a lot of vanilla, you should know this by now)

3 Tb butter

Half a bag of chocolate chips (optional)

1. Mix the flour, sugar, baking powder, and salt together in one bowl.

2. In another bowl, melt the butter (let it cool a little bit as to not curdle the eggs!) and add the eggs, vanilla, and milk. Whisk it good.

3. Make a well in the flour mixture. Pour the wet ingredients in and mix just until combined with a wooden spoon.

4. Here's where things get messy. Drop about 1/4 c of batter at a time onto a greased skillet on medium heat (already hot). Add the toppings (like chocolate chips) as the first side cooks. When it feels loose, flip it (it should only take a minute and a half to two minutes). Flip it. It should only take thirty seconds to a minute to cook the second side.

I just want to remind everyone that pancakes are especially good at night. In fact, that's when most people I know request them.

I am, admittedly, a few posts behind. It is finals week. But that also means there is more comfort food coming out of my kitchen than I know what to do with.

Looks can be deceiving.

2008-12-08T20:44:00.000-08:00

I have finally decided to post the lentil soup recipe. A good photograph is impossible to take--this Lentil Soup is ugly. Looks can be deceiving. It arguably one of the best soups I've ever eaten and a favorite recipe.

As with most recipes I make time and time again, I tend to remember that first encounter. It is customary to skip the Monday after "musical season" ends, and the Monday after "Fiddler on the Roof" was no exception. I was not in "Fiddler", I was lucky enough to enjoy it (and I truly mean this, one of the best shows I've ever seen). As a thank you and an excuse to get together, I invited a good portion of the cast over for lunch on their Monday off. I made this soup and a Karen Hunter Catering signature salad with pears, walnuts, and Gorgonzola cheese. The meal was hearty and wintry. Like Anatevka.

I made the soup again for a welcome back dinner this fall. I know, I know--it was blazing hot (I was in the kitchen--you don't think I know?). Nothing seems to get the sweat out like a bowl of soup though, besides maybe a curry.

Here, at last, is its latest incarnation. I made a few changes to the recipe, particularly to the broth. Feel free to substitute chicken broth, add different vegetables, and invite a few friends over. It feeds an incredible amount of people.

Lentil Soup

2 tablespoons olive oil, plus extra for drizzling
1 medium onion, chopped
3 carrots, peeled and chopped
3 celery stalks, chopped
2 garlic cloves, chopped
Salt and freshly ground black pepper
1 (14 1/2-ounce) can diced tomatoes
1 pound lentils (approximately 1 1/4 cups)
4-5 Vegetable Stock Cubes (I like Rapunzel Brand's Sea Salt and Herb)

8 cups water
4 to 6 fresh thyme sprigs (optional)
1/2 box pasta

1 cup shredded Parmesan

Heat the oil in a heavy large pot over medium heat. Add the onion, carrots, and celery. Add the garlic, salt, and pepper and saute until all the vegetables are tender, about 5 to 8 minutes. Add the tomatoes with their juices. Simmer until the juices evaporate a little and the tomatoes break down, stirring occasionally, about 8 minutes. Add the lentils and mix to coat. Add the water, vegetable stock cubes and stir, being sure to break up the cubes.. Add the thyme sprigs if using. Bring to a boil over high heat. Cover and simmer over low heat until the lentils are almost tender, about 30 minutes.
Stir in the pasta. Simmer until the pasta is tender but still firm to the bite, about 8 minutes. Season with salt and pepper, to taste.
Ladle the soup into bowls. Sprinkle with the Parmesan, drizzle with olive oil, and serve with a crusty bread.

The result is more of a stew than a soup, I realize. When reheating, be sure to add a little water. Also, when you stir in the pasta, you may notice there isn't enough water. In this case, add just enough to cover. Try to keep the recommended ratio of cubes to cups of water--you don't want the soup to be too watery.

And don't skimp on that Parmesan, especially if you have the good stuff. It adds a depth of flavor that is in perfect harmony with the heartiness (but not heaviness) of this soup. That Giada may be on to something.

Parmesan and Pretzels.

2008-12-03T21:30:00.000-08:00

On Sunday night, I was in need of comfort food (see entry below). I made a pot of Giada's Lentil Soup and have been eating it for every meal ever since. There's still a bowl in there, waiting to be photographed for you, dear reader, but I just couldn't fathom eating it again. I'm a foodie. I get bored. So that recipe will have to wait.

This evening, I was inspired by Marc's pasta creation (and by pasta creation I mean frozen and vegetables and penne). Don't tell Marc/Sandra Lee I said this, but I gather my dish was a little more interesting. I sauteed some garlic in some olive oil while the pasta boiled and whisked it with the zest and juice from half a lemon and plenty of salt and pepper. I blanched some green beans and dinner for one was on the table. I also added some Parmesan cheese, because (dare I ask), how can you not?

Speaking of Parmesan, I can't even tell you what a difference there is between "shaker" Parmesan and real Parmesan. The flavor in the latter is so much stronger, nuttier, creamier, and more apt to melting than its cousin (if we even go so far to say cousin...distant, distant relative is more like it) in the plastic canister.

Later, God knows why, I was inspired to try soft pretzels.

I just tasted one, and while they're okay, I'm not entirely impressed. I did have an awful good time kneading the dough, so I'm likely to give it another try. For someone with a background in ceramics, I am awful at shaping the dough. Two of eight pretzels look decent (and are the ones that show up in the photos) but have already been promised to two lovely girls in my Spanish class.

I sent the following to my mother today and even posted it on my facebook. This is exactly what the progressive church has been saying for years, summed up in less than a minute by Jack Black:

See more Jack Black videos at Funny or Die

If the video isn't showing up, check it out here.

"Obamanation" and Kathy Najimy's "I love you, Jesus" sent me over the edge. And after all my years in catering, I know for a fact that is exactly how rich white people feel about shrimp cocktails, too.