Seriously, spring.

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.

Two for one special.

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.

Butternut Squash Pasta Sauce

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.

Roasted Corn Pudding in Acorn Squash

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.

Corn and Tomato Pie.

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.

Cauliflower.

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!

Poached Eggs and Asparagus.

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?

Noodle Nests.

So tonight I ventured into unknown territory.

Let me preface this by saying I love Indian and Thai food--more than I can say, really. One of my favorite things to do on a Saturday is go to Reading Terminal Market, buy myself a plate of Chika Masala and a back issue of Gourmet, and have some "me time" ("me time" also usually includes a stop at Rosie's and H&M, just to be clear). Also, one of my fondest memories of this summer was when we deposited the large Indian food warmer in my apartment living room (empty, of course) and I came back and the entire apartment smelled like Indian food. I was overjoyed. I have never slept better. India keeps creeping into my life, too. Last semester I read "The Namesake" (which I'd recommend--its a quick read) and this semester my Development and Globalization class is focused on Indian development.

I had a block of tofu in my fridge for about a week and after seeing Heidi's Slurp-tastic Noodles, I knew what had to be done. I bought a can of red curry paste just out of curiosity and thought it might be fun to search for the spinach noodles. The above was what I came up with, after improperly mixing the coconut milk and deciding green onions were enough herb for me. I have to say-- I was not disappointed.

The best thing about this dish had to be the color. Here was this creamy orange broth with flecks of herb, almost sweet with a serious kick, and bright green noodles.

The noodles also came in a flat box in little nests--little noodle nests. How adorable.

Top Chef has returned and I felt inspired to experiment later this evening, with some peanut butter apple frozen yogurt. I made a brown sugar simple syrup, which may have been a wrong move, as the syrup is likely to turn icy. I'm also not a huge fan of frozen yogurt to begin with, I think its too tangy unless you pair it with an acidic fruit, so this was a leap of faith.

Speaking of faith, it has been awhile since we heard a witticism from an early Christian mystic:

(This is one of my favorites and, especially as I continue to study eschatology, a great comfort)

I WILL JUST SAY THIS

We

bloomed in Spring.

Our bodies

are the leaves of God.

The apparent seasons of life and death

our eyes can suffer;

but our souls, dear, I will just say this forthright:

they are God

Himself,

we will never perish

unless He

does.

St. Teresa of Avila

(1515-1582)

Jumping the gun.

End of Summer Vegetable Soup. Not the best photo ever, but just about as the leftovers were about to go in the fridge.

Sometimes I do things backwards. I couldn't wait for fall to get here, jumping on the apple pie as soon as the Fair Trade Farmstand had apples. Keep in mind, there was still 80 degree heat, and I slaved away in the kitchen wishing for the leaves to change and cider to be widely available. So about a week later, this past Wednesday, I made a soup with some leftover cabbage, potatoes and white beans. 101Cookbooks led me to the recipe, and while a bit bland (Parmesan cheese helped immensely), it seemed the perfect soup to curl up with during an early February snowfall. Rustic Cabbage Soup was all about the staples, though. Onions, white beans, potatoes, and cabbage and vegetable stock cubes (which I was so impressed with--I had never used one before) are all things you can find all year round. I'll have to bookmark this one for later.

For this season, however, I have found a perfect solution. I treated myself to "Everyday Food" (a Martha publication, naturally) yesterday and included was this recipe for End of Summer Vegetable Soup. It elicited two helpings from my RA who stopped by to drop off a bowl from the cookies I made our floor last week, so I suppose it was pretty good.

End of Summer Vegetable Soup

Serves about six, or 4 hungry boys with one helping of leftovers. Would serve more with a crusty bread on the side.

2 Tbs. EVOO
1 medium onion, chopped

2-3 celery stalks

1 clove garlic

2 cans vegetable or chicken broth (I used chicken, but added a vegetable stock cube in with the water)

2 cups water

8 ounces green beans
1 can diced tomatoes

2 zucchini, halved lengthwise and thinly sliced (I used my mandoline slicer...of course)

1 cup and a handful rotelle, or whatever pasta you have on hand

1. Sautee the onion in the bottom of the pan over medium heat, using the EVOO. Season well.

2. Add the garlic, minced, and the celery, chopped well. Let 'em sweat it out for about five minutes.

3. Remove the stem ends from the green beans and cut them into thirds. Slice the zukes.

4. Add the broth, two cups of water, and (though this is not what I did, probably a good idea) the canned tomatoes (I think the extra heat will help break them down). Bring to a boil.

5. Add zukes, green beans, and pasta. Simmer until the pasta is cooked and the vegetables have softened up a little bit.

I hit the mark yesterday too, with a grilled ham and swiss on homemade wheat with mustard and caramelized onions. I'm not going to include a recipe with this because I think y'all are smart enough to figure this out--make bread, slice, caramelize onions with EVOO, pile with ham, swiss, and onions, slather one side of bread with dijon mustard, slather outsides of the bread with margarine, grill over medium heat until golden brown.

I did, in fact, break out the bread machine for this. But I know for a fact WholeFoods has a lot of good options.

I just finished baking up my first batch of banana muffins this year. I am oddly disappointed--they seem a little flat and I think I may have short-changed the flour by half a cup. I've only messed up muffins one other time in my life, but I can't complain.

Fresh out of the oven, these are awful good with vanilla ice cream.

Matt reminded me of this one today, which is ironic and funny (as is the poem):

MAYBE IT WILL BECOME CHIC

I was invited

to an important conference

where many learned men from different countries

were all going to address the topic:

Where is God?

I was wearing my best clothes and had even fasted for a week,

hoping to help sharpen my mind. Just before I was to leave though,

I felt powerfully drawn to a little shrine in my bedroom,

and I went there and knelt to pray.

I could not believe what happened:

Kali threw her arms around me and started tearing at my clothes,

and she started throwing delicious food into my mouth,

purposely missing several times it seems,

thus soiling my pundit attire;

and then she made me perform many times as if I were her

husband; then she said, "Now Kabir, don't be late for that big talk,

and don't change your clothes--I love that love-stained look;

maybe it will become chic?"

I arrived just as it was my turn to stand before this august crowd,

and apologized for my appearance.

"Where is God?" the head of the conference says to me.

"Well (well, I stammered) if you really want to know the truth--if

you hurry--you might catch Her legs still spread

back at my

pad."

Kabir (1440-1518)