After moving from Lancaster, Pennsylvania to Somerville, Massachusetts, having one baby girl, and consuming many meals not blog-worthy (and some that were), We Are Back. I didn't know what would get us rolling again until last Saturday night. Now it is clear that I was waiting for Russ Parsons' Lamb-Stuffed Cabbage Rolls. I'm not sure who this man is but he has a gift. I found the recipe on Wednesday Chef, which if I remember correctly is exactly where I first found inspiration a year and a half ago when this blog began. Now the Wednesday Chef is living in Berlin with a book contract and I'm sitting in my living room with my black-eyed peas soaking and a baby asleep in the next room.
But back to Saturday night when a craving for meat led us on a recipe hunt which then led us on a walk to Savenor's where the nicest butcher in the neighborhood ground us some fresh lamb. When he reemerged from the back and held out the meat, I knew it was going to be a good night. And it was. The dish turned out better than we could have hoped and I'm still thinking about it, and definitely still talking about it.
Tuesday, March 8, 2011
Wednesday, July 21, 2010
Lemon Soda
I had a lemon soda in New York City this past weekend. Had I watched the guy make it I could tell you more about it. But I didn't, so all I can do is tell you how perfectly delicious, fizzy, and tart it was, and then tell you where to find it.
156 Tenth Avenue at 20th Street. Cookshop restaurant and bar. Go there on a really hot day. On the sidewalk, there will be a wooden cart with a yellow umbrella and a chalkboard sign with "Lemon Soda" written on it.
In accordance with this citrus memory, I'm making Middle Eastern Lentil Soup tonight. The recipe calls for 2 tablespoons of lemon juice. I may end up adding more than that in a vain attempt to recreate my lemon soda experience by way of lentils. I think you might know how this will all turn out. But I'm rolling with it because a meal will be made, which is something.
156 Tenth Avenue at 20th Street. Cookshop restaurant and bar. Go there on a really hot day. On the sidewalk, there will be a wooden cart with a yellow umbrella and a chalkboard sign with "Lemon Soda" written on it.
In accordance with this citrus memory, I'm making Middle Eastern Lentil Soup tonight. The recipe calls for 2 tablespoons of lemon juice. I may end up adding more than that in a vain attempt to recreate my lemon soda experience by way of lentils. I think you might know how this will all turn out. But I'm rolling with it because a meal will be made, which is something.
Thursday, June 17, 2010
On Blogging and Sodium
I am starting to realize that in the world of blogging sometimes it is necessary to ignore the long-endured principle: "If you don't have anything nice to say then don't say anything at all." I know that the blogosphere is a world unto itself operating by a totally different set of rules than regular life, but it still takes some getting used to.
Because the blogging world will not wait for you to have a pretty thought or craft the perfect sentence or cook the perfect meal. Nope. The bus blows right on by, leaving you with arms waving to run with all your crap to catch it at the next stop. When you beat it there you are grateful, but you wonder if it was worth it. Well, it is always worth it, but the sprint in between isn't much fun.
That was a digression in its purest form.
There have been several things that I have cooked since I last wrote. Some of them noteworthy, some of them not. The Ramen Noodles (Oriental flavor) are worth a brief mention only because I enjoyed them so much and feel compelled to remind my audience that sodium is an electrolyte that plays a crucial role in maintaining blood pressure (insert footnote here).
The Fettuccine Alfredo that we made recently is definitely worth a mention because it was so good. I know that this dish is on the heart healthy watchdog list, but it is worth enjoying every so often, especially when every so often means every other year or so. Giada adds lemon juice which was my favorite element in this dish. And the Parmesan cheese:
1 1/2 cups heavy cream (I used half and half.)
1/4 fresh lemon juice (from about 1 lemon)
6 tablespoons of butter (check)
1 to 2 teaspoons grated lemon zest (from about 1 lemon)
Pinch of nutmeg
Salt
9 ounces fresh fettuccine (I used dried.)
1 cup freshly grated Parmesan cheese
1/4 teaspoon freshly ground pepper
In a large, heavy skillet, stir 1 cup of the cream and the lemon juice to blend. Add the butter and cook over medium heat, stirring occasionally, just until the butter melts, about 3 minutes. Stir in the lemon zest and nutmeg. Remove from heat. (My liquid seemed to curdle. I thought about starting over, but forged ahead and everything turned out okay.)
Meanwhile, bring a large pot of salted water to a boil. Add the fettuccine and cook, stirring occasionally, until tender but still firm to the bite, about 4 minutes. Drain. Add the pasta, the remaining 1/2 cup of cream, the Parmesan, and 1/4 teaspoon each of salt and pepper to the cream sauce in the skillet. Toss over low heat until the sauce thickens slightly, about 1 minute. Season with more salt and pepper to taste. Transfer the pasta to wide, shallow serving bowls (if you want) and serve immediately.
Because the blogging world will not wait for you to have a pretty thought or craft the perfect sentence or cook the perfect meal. Nope. The bus blows right on by, leaving you with arms waving to run with all your crap to catch it at the next stop. When you beat it there you are grateful, but you wonder if it was worth it. Well, it is always worth it, but the sprint in between isn't much fun.
That was a digression in its purest form.
There have been several things that I have cooked since I last wrote. Some of them noteworthy, some of them not. The Ramen Noodles (Oriental flavor) are worth a brief mention only because I enjoyed them so much and feel compelled to remind my audience that sodium is an electrolyte that plays a crucial role in maintaining blood pressure (insert footnote here).
The Fettuccine Alfredo that we made recently is definitely worth a mention because it was so good. I know that this dish is on the heart healthy watchdog list, but it is worth enjoying every so often, especially when every so often means every other year or so. Giada adds lemon juice which was my favorite element in this dish. And the Parmesan cheese:
1 1/2 cups heavy cream (I used half and half.)
1/4 fresh lemon juice (from about 1 lemon)
6 tablespoons of butter (check)
1 to 2 teaspoons grated lemon zest (from about 1 lemon)
Pinch of nutmeg
Salt
9 ounces fresh fettuccine (I used dried.)
1 cup freshly grated Parmesan cheese
1/4 teaspoon freshly ground pepper
In a large, heavy skillet, stir 1 cup of the cream and the lemon juice to blend. Add the butter and cook over medium heat, stirring occasionally, just until the butter melts, about 3 minutes. Stir in the lemon zest and nutmeg. Remove from heat. (My liquid seemed to curdle. I thought about starting over, but forged ahead and everything turned out okay.)
Meanwhile, bring a large pot of salted water to a boil. Add the fettuccine and cook, stirring occasionally, until tender but still firm to the bite, about 4 minutes. Drain. Add the pasta, the remaining 1/2 cup of cream, the Parmesan, and 1/4 teaspoon each of salt and pepper to the cream sauce in the skillet. Toss over low heat until the sauce thickens slightly, about 1 minute. Season with more salt and pepper to taste. Transfer the pasta to wide, shallow serving bowls (if you want) and serve immediately.
Thursday, May 27, 2010
Pho Bo and Gazpacho
It is a well known fact that muscles atrophy without regular exercise. The rate of deterioration of one's ingenuity and inspiration in the kitchen after a lapse of regular practice is a much less featured subject.
It is a slippery slope that anyone can find themselves sliding down. It starts with a successful meal, continues with satisfying leftovers, and, oh wait, it stops there. You are lured out of the kitchen. When you come back you can't remember what you ever did there in the first place. That is, if you are like me. And I'm hopeful that you are.
Rest assured, there has been no cooking going on behind your back. I think I would feel a bit better if there had been. No, it has just been the craziness of life and the stark reality that I do not live on the frontier in the early 19th century. Instead I live really close to the most delicious bowl of Pho Bo -Vietnamese beef noodle soup.
Fortunately, Gazpacho doesn't cast judgment. It doesn't ask you where you have been or turn out poorly because you haven't cooked in a while. Its simple flavors speak for themselves and make your first meal back at home a happy one.
And that is where I pick back up. Oh, and you'll need a food processor.
Barefoot Contessa's Gazpacho
2 cucumbers, halved and seeded, but not peeled
3 red bell peppers, cored and seeded
8 plum tomatoes
2 red onions
6 garlic cloves, minced
46 oz. tomato juice (6 cups)
1/2 cup white wine vinegar
1/2 cup olive oil
1 tablespoon kosher salt
1 1/2 freshly ground black pepper
Roughly chop the cucumbers, bell peppers, tomatoes, and red onions into 1-inch cubes. Put each vegetable separately into a food processor fitted with a steel blade and pulse until it is coarsely chopped. Don't overprocess.
After each vegetable is processed, combine them in a large bowl.
Then, add the garlic, tomato juice, vinegar, olive oil, salt, and pepper. Mix well and chill before serving. The longer gazpacho sits, the more the flavors develop.
Fortunately I had guests to feed, so I made a loaf of french bread to go with it. For dessert: lemon sorbet and gingersnaps!
It is a slippery slope that anyone can find themselves sliding down. It starts with a successful meal, continues with satisfying leftovers, and, oh wait, it stops there. You are lured out of the kitchen. When you come back you can't remember what you ever did there in the first place. That is, if you are like me. And I'm hopeful that you are.
Rest assured, there has been no cooking going on behind your back. I think I would feel a bit better if there had been. No, it has just been the craziness of life and the stark reality that I do not live on the frontier in the early 19th century. Instead I live really close to the most delicious bowl of Pho Bo -Vietnamese beef noodle soup.
Fortunately, Gazpacho doesn't cast judgment. It doesn't ask you where you have been or turn out poorly because you haven't cooked in a while. Its simple flavors speak for themselves and make your first meal back at home a happy one.
And that is where I pick back up. Oh, and you'll need a food processor.
Barefoot Contessa's Gazpacho
2 cucumbers, halved and seeded, but not peeled
3 red bell peppers, cored and seeded
8 plum tomatoes
2 red onions
6 garlic cloves, minced
46 oz. tomato juice (6 cups)
1/2 cup white wine vinegar
1/2 cup olive oil
1 tablespoon kosher salt
1 1/2 freshly ground black pepper
Roughly chop the cucumbers, bell peppers, tomatoes, and red onions into 1-inch cubes. Put each vegetable separately into a food processor fitted with a steel blade and pulse until it is coarsely chopped. Don't overprocess.
After each vegetable is processed, combine them in a large bowl.
Then, add the garlic, tomato juice, vinegar, olive oil, salt, and pepper. Mix well and chill before serving. The longer gazpacho sits, the more the flavors develop.
Fortunately I had guests to feed, so I made a loaf of french bread to go with it. For dessert: lemon sorbet and gingersnaps!
Friday, May 7, 2010
Anchovies Not Optional
So I'm back from a brief travel hiatus, where I cooked nothing and ate quite a bit.
The object of our first meal back at home was to open the jar of pitted Kalamata olives I picked up a Trader Joe's. The commitment to making this happen was strong enough that I turned to the index in Everday Food's new compilation cookbook, Fresh Flavor Fast, and searched under the letter "O" for olive . Bingo. Spaghetti Puttanesca.
If you are short on time and motivation this is a fast, flavorful dish, as advertised. Read that and then read this: The anchovies are not optional. The recipe says they are, and I guess if you are really really opposed to using them, do what you have to do. But, I don't think the sauce would have been nearly as good without them in it. Plus, the stigma on anchovies has been waning over the past few years anyway.
Spaghetti Puttanesca
Coarse salt and freshly ground pepper
1 pound spaghetti
1 tablespoon olive oil (I used a tad more)
3 garlic cloves, minced
1/2 teaspoon, crushed red pepper flakes
6 anchovy fillets (Ours were packed in olive oil and we simply drained them.)
1 can (28 oz.) of whole peeled tomatoes in juice, or crushed tomatoes
2 tablespoons capers, drained and rinsed
1/2 cup kalamata olives, pitted and chopped
1. Bring a pot of water to a boil; add a generous amount of salt. Cook pasta until al dente according to packaged instructions. Drain pasta; return to pot.
2. Meanwhile, heat oil in a large skillet over medium. Add garlic, red-pepper flakes and anchovies, mashing them with a wooden spoon. Cook stirring until fragrant but not turning brown, about 2 minutes. Break up tomatoes and add them to the pan along with their juice. Stirn in capers and olives. Bring to a boil; reduce heat to a simmer. Cook until tomatoes are softened and sauce is thickened; stirring occasionally, 5-10 minutes.
3. Add sauce to pot, and toss with pasta to combine; season with salt and pepper. Reheat over medium-low if necessary before serving.
The object of our first meal back at home was to open the jar of pitted Kalamata olives I picked up a Trader Joe's. The commitment to making this happen was strong enough that I turned to the index in Everday Food's new compilation cookbook, Fresh Flavor Fast, and searched under the letter "O" for olive . Bingo. Spaghetti Puttanesca.
If you are short on time and motivation this is a fast, flavorful dish, as advertised. Read that and then read this: The anchovies are not optional. The recipe says they are, and I guess if you are really really opposed to using them, do what you have to do. But, I don't think the sauce would have been nearly as good without them in it. Plus, the stigma on anchovies has been waning over the past few years anyway.
Spaghetti Puttanesca
Coarse salt and freshly ground pepper
1 pound spaghetti
1 tablespoon olive oil (I used a tad more)
3 garlic cloves, minced
1/2 teaspoon, crushed red pepper flakes
6 anchovy fillets (Ours were packed in olive oil and we simply drained them.)
1 can (28 oz.) of whole peeled tomatoes in juice, or crushed tomatoes
2 tablespoons capers, drained and rinsed
1/2 cup kalamata olives, pitted and chopped
1. Bring a pot of water to a boil; add a generous amount of salt. Cook pasta until al dente according to packaged instructions. Drain pasta; return to pot.
2. Meanwhile, heat oil in a large skillet over medium. Add garlic, red-pepper flakes and anchovies, mashing them with a wooden spoon. Cook stirring until fragrant but not turning brown, about 2 minutes. Break up tomatoes and add them to the pan along with their juice. Stirn in capers and olives. Bring to a boil; reduce heat to a simmer. Cook until tomatoes are softened and sauce is thickened; stirring occasionally, 5-10 minutes.
3. Add sauce to pot, and toss with pasta to combine; season with salt and pepper. Reheat over medium-low if necessary before serving.
Tuesday, April 27, 2010
Tuesdays
Market day is to Tuesdays like chocolate is to milk. However in this case I get to combine all four ingredients.
Every Tuesday I go to the market. And every Tuesday at the market after my bag is heavy with groceries, I spend my last 75 cents on a styrofoam cup of chocolate milk to sip on my walk home. The cup of milk (I'm sure they use whole), a lid and a straw all for under a dollar. I imagine they came up with this size and container for little children who are likely to spill its contents, but it is also perfect for take away. It is beyond goodness.
Simplicity and Decadence join hands.
I walk home with a bag on each shoulder, my dog's leash in one hand and my chocolate milk in the other. I'm like a yoked cow or a person carrying one of those boards over her neck with a sap bucket hooked to each end. And, I'm happy.
The dog at the end of the leash:
Every Tuesday I go to the market. And every Tuesday at the market after my bag is heavy with groceries, I spend my last 75 cents on a styrofoam cup of chocolate milk to sip on my walk home. The cup of milk (I'm sure they use whole), a lid and a straw all for under a dollar. I imagine they came up with this size and container for little children who are likely to spill its contents, but it is also perfect for take away. It is beyond goodness.
Simplicity and Decadence join hands.
I walk home with a bag on each shoulder, my dog's leash in one hand and my chocolate milk in the other. I'm like a yoked cow or a person carrying one of those boards over her neck with a sap bucket hooked to each end. And, I'm happy.
The dog at the end of the leash:
Sunday, April 25, 2010
Take Out Fake Out
Pretend this is a twitter update: Aunt Debra's Pickled Eggs Are So Good.
Blog:
So victory came in two forms this weekend. On Friday night we overcame the urge to get take-out and on Saturday night we overcame the urge to get take-out. I don't think that one's goal should always be to fight these cravings, but the meals that resulted from the decision to hold back and head back to the kitchen proved to be worthwhile.
Friday night we took our leftover turkey chili, added some chopped broccoli, ricotta and mozzarella cheese and made calzones. I worried that they would taste like chili wrapped in pizza dough, which is exactly what it was, but the transformation was successful. Amidst the dough and cheeses the chili lost its distinctive flavor -in the best way possible. And the broccoli was saved from a life ending in the refrigerator.
Saturday night instead of making a sudden, sharp right-hand turn into a strip mall with an ambiguous Chinese restaurant in it, we made shrimp and grits. The recipe came from the Month Of May Everyday Food magazine, although there are lots of ways to make it, of course. This is an easy and tasty version with broiled tomatoes on the side.
Hope you all had a lovely weekend.
Here is our edited version of the recipe for the Shrimp with Grits:
1 cup quick-cooking or old-fashioned grits
2 teaspoons vegetable oil
2 garlic cloves, minced
2 scallions, white and green parts separated and thinly sliced
4 teaspoons of flour
1 1/4 cups chicken broth
1/4 cup light cream
1 pound shrimp, peeled and deveined
Broiled Tomatoes
1. Cook the grits according to the package instructions
2. Meanwhile, in a large skillet, heat oil over medium heat. Add garlic and scallion whites and cook until fragrant, about 30 seconds. Stir in flour. Whisk in broth and cream, dissolving lumps from flour and scraping up browned bits from skillet, until thickened, about 3 minutes. Add shrimp and cook, stirring constantly, about 5 minutes. To serve, top grits with shrimp mixture and sprinkle with scallion greens. Serve with tomatoes, if desired. We desired.
Broiled Tomatoes
Place 4 halved tomatoes, cut side up on a rimmed baking sheet. Drizzle with olive oil; season with salt and pepper. Broil until lightly charred.
Blog:
So victory came in two forms this weekend. On Friday night we overcame the urge to get take-out and on Saturday night we overcame the urge to get take-out. I don't think that one's goal should always be to fight these cravings, but the meals that resulted from the decision to hold back and head back to the kitchen proved to be worthwhile.
Friday night we took our leftover turkey chili, added some chopped broccoli, ricotta and mozzarella cheese and made calzones. I worried that they would taste like chili wrapped in pizza dough, which is exactly what it was, but the transformation was successful. Amidst the dough and cheeses the chili lost its distinctive flavor -in the best way possible. And the broccoli was saved from a life ending in the refrigerator.
Saturday night instead of making a sudden, sharp right-hand turn into a strip mall with an ambiguous Chinese restaurant in it, we made shrimp and grits. The recipe came from the Month Of May Everyday Food magazine, although there are lots of ways to make it, of course. This is an easy and tasty version with broiled tomatoes on the side.
Hope you all had a lovely weekend.
Here is our edited version of the recipe for the Shrimp with Grits:
1 cup quick-cooking or old-fashioned grits
2 teaspoons vegetable oil
2 garlic cloves, minced
2 scallions, white and green parts separated and thinly sliced
4 teaspoons of flour
1 1/4 cups chicken broth
1/4 cup light cream
1 pound shrimp, peeled and deveined
Broiled Tomatoes
1. Cook the grits according to the package instructions
2. Meanwhile, in a large skillet, heat oil over medium heat. Add garlic and scallion whites and cook until fragrant, about 30 seconds. Stir in flour. Whisk in broth and cream, dissolving lumps from flour and scraping up browned bits from skillet, until thickened, about 3 minutes. Add shrimp and cook, stirring constantly, about 5 minutes. To serve, top grits with shrimp mixture and sprinkle with scallion greens. Serve with tomatoes, if desired. We desired.
Broiled Tomatoes
Place 4 halved tomatoes, cut side up on a rimmed baking sheet. Drizzle with olive oil; season with salt and pepper. Broil until lightly charred.
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