Cookies (again).

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

Some things never change.

I used to love Giada DeLaurentis. Then, much like Rachel Ray, she overstayed her welcome. She accumulated several ridiculous television shows no one could bare to watch. We met her husband. She stopped cooking Italian and started cooking "Italian inspired". It was disappointing. So I started watching Ina, the Barefoot Contessa.

Giada still holds a special place in my heart (and stomach) though, simply because of the following recipe (and the lentil soup that Fiddler cast members like so much). I made it for the first time a few summers ago, and two of us barely made a dent. The plan for this batch of Giada's Mac and Cheese was to have a bunch of people eat it. Unfortunately, it took four of us two days to destroy this pan (I think I actually ate it three nights in a row). This Mac and Cheese is rich, heavy, and everything you'd want in a recipe calling for a half pound of Fontina.

Tealye, my sister, just happen to be passing through the weekend I made this. It was perfect

considering Mac and Cheese is her favorite food (surprisingly, she is no longer 10--she just turned 16). I was delighted to present her with this upscale version of her beloved blue box variety, which she really seemed to enjoy.

Some things never change.

Giada's Mac and Cheese

Honestly serves around eight, six if they're hungry.

Butter, for greasing dish
12 ounces wide egg noodles

2 cups heavy cream
2 1/2 cups whole milk
2 teaspoons all-purpose flour
1/2 teaspoon salt, plus more for pasta water
1/4 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper
2 cups (packed) grated Fontina
3/4 cup (packed) finely grated Parmesan
3/4 cup (packed) grated mozzarella

Preheat the oven to 450 degrees F.

Butter a 13 by 9-inch glass baking dish and set aside. Cook the noodles in a large pot of boiling salted water until tender but still firm to bite, stirring frequently, about 5 minutes. Drain well, but do not rinse.

Whisk the cream, milk, flour, 1/2 teaspoon salt, and pepper in large bowl to blend (season this dish well!). Stir in 1 cup Fontina, 1/2 cup Parmesan, and 1/2 cup mozzarella. Add the noodles and toss to coat (you can also do as I did and pour the mixture over the noodles and stir it around). Transfer the noodle mixture to the prepared baking dish. Toss the remaining 1 cup Fontina, 1/4 cup Parmesan, and 1/4 cup mozzarella in a small bowl to blend. Sprinkle the cheese mixture over the noodle mixture (I uh...forgot that part, which is probably why mine isn't that pretty).

Bake until the sauce bubbles and the cheese melts and begins to brown on top, about 20 minutes. Let stand for 10 minutes before serving (the standing is really important here, and if not for the melted cheese's sake, then for your tongue's).

And because I now have the seminary reading my blog:

BEAUTY HONES

So many tears behind these words.

Love hones like that--

perfects and

purifies

the

gift.

St. Thomas Aquinas

(1225-1274)

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)