A mutt of a dish

Last week my friends Willy and Clemmy came over for an impromptu weeknight dinner. In deciding what to make, I established two things: one, that I hadn't cooked anything Mexican in a while, so that'd be the direction I'd take, and two, that I wanted to spend as little money as possible. A look in the fridge revealed a dire lack of produce, but in the freezer I found a stack of corn tortillas, as well as a small container of chipotles en adobo. Those items would help things along. As I've mentioned many a time on the blog, my eating habits have changed a bit over the past few years, as I've become more interested in local, organic food: notably, I've been eating a lot less meat, and when it comes to cooking at home, I almost always prepare vegetarian dishes. When you have access to beautiful, fresh produce, it's easy to make a meal that's so flavorful that it simply doesn't need meat. Cooking almost exclusively with vegetables also keeps those grocery bills down, something that—as a perpetual unpaid intern living in New York City—is always at the forefront of my mind. So once I settled on Mexican with tortillas and chipotles, I started to think of what kind of meatless dish I could make, and that's when it came to me: chilaquiles. I hadn't eaten them in a long, long time, so they sounded good, and though they wouldn't be super quick to prepare, it would be a relatively easy process.

I'm no expert on what comprises traditional chilaquiles, but the versions I've eaten in New York tend to be made with crisp-fried corn tortillas or tortilla chips, blanketed with green or red salsa, layered with shredded meat, and finished off with a generous amount of melted cheese. Sometimes the chips remain crisp; sometimes they're soggy. I like both ways. What I came up with was a riff on these dishes, by no means the same in preparation but pretty similar in terms of flavor. In the interest of cutting down on prep time as well as keeping the end result a lot healthier, I decided not to fry my tortillas, but rather to crisp them up in a warm oven, then crumble them into manageable pieces before layering them in a baking dish with some homemade red salsa, shredded Jack cheese, and a mix of vegetables: a sort of Mexican lasagna, if you will.

First things first: the salsa roja. I made a simple one by roasting together some tomatoes, jalapeños, and onions, then blending them up in the food processor, along with the liquid they lot off in cooking as well as some chipotles en adobo and red wine vinegar.

 

I settled on a combination of sweet potatoes, black beans and green onions as my filling. I roasted up the sweet potatoes in the oven as I cooked the tomato mixture; the beans were just rinsed canned beans (soaked and cooked dried beans would be even better, if you have those on hand). To build the "lasagna," I started with a layer of salsa in the bottom of a glass baking dish, then a layer of the broken-up tortillas, then a scattering of vegetables:

That got covered in some more salsa, then a generous amount of shredded cheese. Then I started over again: tortillas, salsa, veggies, and cheese, until I ran out of ingredients: I got 3 layers in there, with the top one being just tortillas and cheese. That all got baked in the oven, wrapped in a protective layer of foil, until things were nice and hot and bubbly, when I removed the foil to brown the cheese to a burnished finish:

After a brief rest to allow everything to settle, I cut that bad boy up into generous pieces. My friends and I ate them topped with sour cream, sliced avocados, chopped cilantro, and a squeeze of fresh lime:

Mexican Chilaquiles with Sweet Potatoes and Black Beans
Serves 6 - 8

2 large or 3 medium tomatoes, cut into large pieces

1 large onion, cut into quarters

2 jalapeños, stem removed, cut in half lengthwise

About 2 tbsp. vegetable oil, divided

Salt

Pepper

1 tbsp. chipotles en adobo (both peppers and sauce)

1 tbsp. red wine vinegar

1 package corn tortillas

1 large or two medium sweet potatoes, rinsed and cut into a small dice

2 15.5 oz cans black beans, rinsed and drained

3 - 4 green onions, white and green parts, thinly sliced

8 oz. Monterey Jack cheese, shredded (about 2 cups)

1 avocado, pitted and sliced

1 lime, cut into wedges

Sour cream, for serving

Chopped cilantro, for serving

Preparation:

1. Preheat the oven to 400°.

2. Combine tomato, onion, and jalapeño in a large bowl. Drizzle with 1 tbsp. vegetable oil and sprinkle with salt and pepper. Toss to coat, then turn into an oven-safe dish. Roast for about 30 minutes, or until tomatoes are soft and juicy and onions and peppers begin to brown.

3. Use the same large bowl to toss the sweet potatoes with 1 tbsp. oil and salt and pepper. Turn potatoes onto a baking sheet and roast for about 20 minutes, or until soft and well-browned. Remove all vegetables from oven and lower heat to 250°.

4. In the bowl of a blender or food processor, blend roasted vegetables and their liquid until smooth. Add chipotle, vinegar and salt and blend again. Check for seasoning, adding more vinegar or salt as needed. Set salsa aside.

5. Spread tortillas out in a single layer over several large baking sheets (you'll need about 15 small tortillas total). Bake in oven until crisp and slightly browned, about 20 minutes. Remove from oven and let cool. Increase oven temperature to 350°.

6. Assemble the chilaquiles: in the bottom of a large glass lasagna pan, spread a thin layer of salsa. Break 5 tortillas into large pieces and distribute over salsa. Sprinkle half the sweet potatoes, half the black beans and half the green onions over tortillas. Pour half of remaining salsa over vegetables, then sprinkle with one third of the Jack cheese. Repeat with 5 more tortillas, rest of vegetables, rest of salsa, and one more third of cheese. Finish with a top layer of 5 more tortillas and the rest of the shredded cheese.

7. Spray a large rectangular piece of aluminum foil with nonstick cooking spread and cover baking dish tightly. Place dish in oven and bake until chilaquiles are hot and the cheese has melted, about 25 minutes. Remove foil and bake until top layer of cheese is nicely browned, about 15 more minutes. Remove from oven and let rest about 15 minutes before cutting into 6 - 8 pieces. Serve with sour cream, avocado, cilantro and lime.

Embracing a trend, a little late

When it comes to food, I'm pretty much immune to trends. What I like to eat, and what I will always like to eat, is simple, straightforward, honestly delicious food, and that won't change, no matter how many types of goopy sugary cupcakes flood the market, or how many ways chefs find to make liquids, foams and gels out of what should be nice, fresh and unadulterated ingredients.

For the past few years, there's been one trendy ingredient on the American food scene, and its name is chipotle. No, I'm not talking about the restaurant, although that chain did indeed rise to prominence during the unstoppable reign of its eponymous ingredient. What I'm talking about are chipotle peppers, or jalapeño peppers that have been allowed to ripen past their usual green color to a deep red, then harvested and smoke-dried. In Mexico, chipotles find their way into many traditional dishes and accompaniments, most notably being incorporated into a variety of salsas, but here in the U.S., we usually see chipotles in one particular form: chipotles en adobo. Adobo, as that helpful Wikipedia link explains, can refer to a range of seasonings and marinades, but in this instance corresponds to a particular preparation of thick, rich and spicy tomato-based sauce. Chipotles en adobo are whole chipotles that are canned in adobo sauce; the chipotles absorb the liquid from the adobo and become soft and pliable, while the adobo, in turn, takes on the smoky quality of the chipotles.

Sounds pretty delicious, doesn't it? Well, lots of American restaurants and cafes would agree. Because over the past few years, many of them have snuck chipotles onto their menu, and you can usually find them in one place: on the sandwiches. Blended into the mayonnaise. Chipotle mayonnaise, or chipotle mayo, as it's more commonly (and lovingly) referred to, is everywhere. Do a Google search for the term and you'll get 559,000 results. To give you a small Brooklyn-based sampling, both the cafe I worked at as a cook for about a year and the restaurant where my roommate Anne waitresses feature the mayonnaise on their menus: at the former, we spread it thickly on a grilled vegetable-and-cheese sandwich, and at the latter, they serve it as a dipping sauce for their (highly addictive) homemade grilled flatbreads. And I have to admit that the stuff is pretty tasty. I'm not really a mayonnaise fan: for me, at least the commercial stuff just seems greasy and not very flavorful. But the heat and smokiness of the chipotles really does cut through that greasiness and adds a nice bite to plain ol' mayo.

Still, I wasn't really sold on the idea. From time to time I'd get a taste of chipotle mayonnaise and I'd think it was ok. But for the most part, I tended to avoid menu items that advertised the peppers: they just seemed gimmicky, overly ubiquitous, so I passed on them. Until, that is, I cooked with them. About a week ago, I went over to my friend Malcolm's house for dinner, and together we followed a recipe for chilaquiles that came from a Martha Stewart cookbook. The recipe was dead simple: basically, you saute garlic and oil in a pan and add crushed canned tomatoes and a little bit of chipotles en adobo. You then mix in shredded cooked chicken and simmer the sauce for about 5 minutes. That's it. When it's done, you serve it over crushed tortilla chips and top it with all the fixins, like cheese, avocado and sour cream. Yum. Am I right? Well, I tasted it and I am right. And I was amazed. The chipotles added so much flavor to the sauce: slight, pleasant heat; intense, smooth smokiness; and a little sweetness, too. I was sold. Several days later, when I set out to make a dish I often eat for dinner, Mexican-style beans, I made sure to buy a little can of chipotles en adobo and add them to my dish. Same effect: they added so much flavor, and made my beans taste that much more authentic.

So is there a moral to this story? I hope not, because if there was one, it would have to be something like this: don't be afraid to be a sheep. Don't resist. If something's trendy, it's damn well trendy for a reason, and you should just go along with it. And that's not my message at all, folks. But I will say this: sometimes, when an ingredient or food preparation really catches on, it truly is because it's tasty. Just think of McDonald's...wait, that wasn't what I meant to say. Listen, just try these Mexican beans. Maybe someday soon they, too, will be over 99 billion served.



Mexican-Style Beans
Serves 4 - 6

1. Heat a wide, heavy-bottomed skillet over a medium flame. Add about 2 tbsp. of olive oil and about 3 minced garlic cloves. Cook, stirring, for about 1 minute.
2. As the garlic cooks, add dried spices to the pan: about 1 1/2 tsp. ground cumin; 1/2 tsp. ground coriander; 1/2 tsp. oregano; 1/4 tsp. red pepper flakes and 1/4 tsp. chili powder. Stir to combine.
3. Just as the garlic begins to turn golden brown, add about 1/2 cup canned tomatoes, either crushed or whole in liquid. If using whole tomatoes, crush them as you add them to the pan. Add 2 or 3 minced chipotles (from a small can of chipotles en adobo) and about 2 tbsp. of their liquid to the pan. Stir to combine and season with salt.
4. Drain and rinse 2 small (15.5 oz) cans of beans. You can use any beans you like; I always use black beans and sometimes, as in this instance, mix in pinto beans as well. Add the beans to the pan, along with about 1 cup of water and stir gently. Bring to a simmer and let cook for 12 - 15 minutes, or until the mixture has thickened and its flavors have come together.
5. Taste for seasoning and serve. I eat my beans over rice and top them with things like fresh salsa, lime juice, sliced avocados, a cheese like queso fresco, etc., and I usually heat up some corn tortillas to go with, too.

More adventures in vegetarianism with Patrick

A week or two (or three...I'm a little behind on my blogging) ago, Patrick joined me on my deck for another one of our dinner installments. Sadly our dear friend Willy couldn't join us this time, but not to worry, Willy, it's not like we mocked you in your absence or anything, not even a little, I swear it. Ahem.

It's grilling season, or at least it was a couple of weeks ago, before the heavy clouds settled on top of New York and decided to stay put for a while. And yet again, I wanted to think of something creatively vegetarian to make for Patrick and myself. First I envisioned a big platter of grilled vegetables like eggplant, zucchini and bell peppers, drizzled with tahini, sprinkled with pine nuts and some chopped fresh herbs. That would have been delicious, I'm sure, but I decided I wasn't really in the mood for tahini. The idea of grilled vegetables resonated, though, and my thoughts turned to grilled portobello mushroom caps. Kind of a cliched choice for a vegetarian dish, though, right? I felt the same way. So I tried to mix things up a little. My solution? Serve the portabello caps on toasted wheat buns, spread thickly with a creamy, herby white bean spread flavored with lemon and olive oil, and top that off with crisp, peppery arugula:

















In order to take further advantage of the hot grill and of my new herb garden, I also served up a tomato salad topped with grilled corn and fresh basil:

















As far as I could tell, Patrick approved:



















Portobello Mushroom Burgers with Herbed White Bean Spread and Arugula
Serves 4

1. Light a gas or charcoal grill, or heat a cast iron grill pan over medium heat.
2. Wipe 4 portobello caps clean. Place them in a shallow baking dish or rimmed plate and drizzle them with about 3 tbsp. olive oil and 2 tbsp. balsamic vinegar, turning the mushrooms to coat them evenly. Sprinkle both sides of the mushrooms with salt and black pepper.
3. Grill the mushroom caps until they are tender and have lost a fair amount of their moisture, about 4 minutes per side. Set them aside.
4. Toast 4 whole wheat hamburger buns on the grill or grill pan. Place one mushroom cap on each bun, then top each with a generous spoonful of Herbed White Bean Spread (recipe follows). Spread to distribute.
5. Finally, top each burger with a handful of cleaned arugula or other bitter greens.


Herbed White Bean Spread
Makes about 1 1/2 cups

1. Place one small (15.5 oz) can of white (cannellini) beans, rinsed and drained, in the bowl of a food processor or small electric chopper. Add 1 - 2 peeled garlic cloves, about 2 tbsp. fresh oregano leaves, 2 tbsp. fresh thyme leaves, the juice of 1 lemon, and plenty of salt and pepper. Pulse to combine.
2. Add about 2 tbsp. of extra virgin olive oil to the mixture. Pulse to combine. The spread is done when it is nearly smooth but still has a bit of texture to it.


Summer Tomato Salad with Grilled Corn and Fresh Basil
Serves 4

1. Using the reddest, ripest tomatoes you can find, slice about 4 large or 6 medium-sized tomatoes about 1/2" thick. Lay the slices on a large plate or platter.
2. Prepare the corn: lay two ears of corn, still in their husks, on a medium-low grill. Cook, covered, until tender and slightly charred, turning if necessary, about 14 - 16 minutes. Remove corn from the grill, strip off the husks, and, using a sharp knife, shave the kernels off the cobs.
3. Sprinkle the grilled corn kernels evenly over the tomatoes. Dress the salad with about 4 tbsp. extra virgin olive oil, 3 tbsp. balsamic vinegar, and plenty of salt and pepper.
4. Finally, shred or tear a good large handful of fresh basil and sprinkle it over the salad before serving.

Sometimes simple is best

I've been doing a lot of cooking lately, but not a lot of blog posting, and it's because my style of cooking is often not very photogenic. I'm a big fan of straightforward, uncomplicated recipes that heighten the flavors of their ingredients, allowing them to shine through and not obfuscating them under layers of butter, oil or heavy seasoning. So many times when I throw together these modest, unembellished but nevertheless delicious meals, I look at them and decide not to take a photo or write about them--rather, I just enjoy them. But I thought I'd make an exception tonight and share what I ate for dinner: a plateful of lentils. Pure and simple lentils, sauteed with aromatics and cooked in chicken broth, drizzled with olive oil and balsamic vinegar, sprinkled with salt and much freshly ground black pepper. Okay, okay, so I did have a green salad on the side, but that was just the icing on the cake--so to speak.

















Simple Stewed Lentils
Serves 4

1. Place 2 tbsp. of olive oil in a deep, heavy-bottomed pan set over medium heat. Add one small carrot, peeled and finely diced; one rib of celery, finely diced; and 1/2 a large onion, finely chopped. Season with salt and pepper and sweat the vegetables for about 5 minutes.
2. Add some dried thyme and red pepper flakes, to taste, to the vegetables in the pan. Add 1 cup of small brown, yellow or green lentils, rinsed, and cook them briefly before adding 2 cups of chicken broth. Cover the pan and raise the heat. When the broth begins to boil, drop the heat down to low and simmer, covered, for about 20 minutes, until lentils have absorbed almost all of the liquid and are cooked through but still firm. Serve, as is or over rice, garnished with olive oil, a drizzle of balsamic vinegar, salt, freshly ground black papper and chopped fresh parsley.

Soup's on (again)

One of the best parts about cooking a big roast like the one below is the leftovers. And not just the leftover meat, either, but also the bone. After making my big pork roast I was left with a huge shoulder bone and, after I had picked it clean of juicy, succulent tidbits, I put it in a ziploc bag and into the freezer, where it awaited the day I would decide to make soup. As I noted in this post, soup is one of my favorite things to prepare, mostly because it's so easy to make, so filling, and so cost-effective, too. On Friday, my day off, I awoke to a bitterly cold, gray day--sounds like a soup day to me.

The shoulder bone came out the freezer and went straight into a large, tall pot that I filled to the top with cold water. I dropped in half an onion and a few peppercorns, ignited the burner, and was on my way to creating a rich, intensely porky broth. That's how easy stock is. If I had had some other aromatics in the house, say, a carrot, a bunch of fresh herbs, or a bay leaf, I would have tossed those all in, too. But I didn't, so half an onion and some peppercorns it was--the bone has so much flavor inside that it hardly needs any help at all. I let the pot simmer away for about four hours, while I, braving the cold with both of my winter coats on, ran errands and gathered the rest of the ingredients for the soup.

When deciding what kind of soup to make, I tried to think about what ingredients would be best complemented by the flavor of the pork broth. Also, I wanted those ingredients to be fairly inexpensive. That's when the idea came to me: pork and beans. A classic combination, I figured that any type of dried bean would taste delicious cooked in pork stock. White beans, chickpeas, kidney beans or any combination thereof would have been perfect choices, but I decided I wanted something a little bit lighter and more delicate: lentils. So at the store I picked up a bag of dried lentils, along with some carrots, onions, celery and spinach, as well as a can of diced tomatoes. All the ingredients I would need for my soup (save for some garlic and potatoes that were already at home), together they cost about $7. I ended up with 10 or 12 servings of soup, meaning that each bowl cost me about $0.70. Not bad. Rewarded monetarily, I was also rewarded sensorily, by a big pot of warm, rich-tasting, aromatic comfort food.


















Lentil Soup with Spinach and Potatoes
Adapted from epicurious.com
Makes 10-12 servings

Ingredients:

3 tablespoons extra–virgin olive oil
2 cups chopped onions
1 cup chopped celery stalks
1 cup chopped carrots
2 garlic cloves, chopped
1 teaspoon dried thyme
5 cups (or more) pork, chicken or vegetable broth
1 1/2 cups lentils, rinsed, drained
1 14 1/2–ounce can diced tomatoes in juice
4 cups spinach, stems removed, chopped
4 - 5 new potatoes, quartered
Balsamic vinegar

Preparation:

Heat oil in a large, tall pot over medium–high heat. Add onions, celery, carrots, garlic and thyme; sauté until vegetables begin to brown, about 15 minutes. Add 5 cups broth, lentils, potatoes, and tomatoes with juice and bring to boil. Reduce heat to medium–low, cover, and simmer until lentils are tender, about 35 minutes. Uncover and add spinach, stirring until spinach wilts. If soup is too thick, thin with more broth by 1/4 cupfuls. Season to taste with salt and pepper. Ladle soup into bowls, garnishing with a splash each of balsamic vinegar and olive oil.

Happy birthday to me

It was my birthday on Friday and to celebrate I did what most any foodie would do: cooked a meal for about 15 people. Sounds stressful, right? Well, it wasn't. When planning my party I tried to come up with some food options that would be cheap, easy and plentiful enough to feed a crowd. Suddenly I hit upon a winning idea: slow-roasted pork shoulder, also known as pork butt (how appealing). Since I've moved to my neighborhood of south Park Slope, I've been intending to take better advantage of the many Latin American ingredients available in the supermarkets around here: things like fresh cactus, a variety of fresh and dried chiles, and, most prominently, pork--in all its shapes, sizes and cuts. I'm talking trotters, pork kidneys, pork ribs, and, yes, pork shoulder. Because I don't tend to follow recipes, though, I also tend not to purchase ingredients that are unfamiliar to me, because I don't have an instinct for how to cook them. But I decided that my birthday would be the perfect occasion to break this bad habit, so I went whole-hog (ha, ha), buying a 10-pound pork shoulder and preparing it in the Puerto Rican style called pernil.

Pork shoulder is a tough cut of meat that becomes tender and succulent after many hours of low-temperature cooking, like braising on the stovetop or roasting in the oven. Because it's not a very "desirable" piece of meat, it's also very inexpensive--I got it at my local Met supermarket for $1/lb. A dollar a pound! Do the math and you'll see that that means that I fed more than 15 people for about $10. Not bad.

To learn how to prepare the pernil I looked at a number of recipes online and eventually settled on Mark Bittman's version. A New York Jew is perhaps not the most authentic source for a Puerto Rican recipe, but his method was the most simple and, after all, I didn't want to be stressed on my own birthday. The basic preparation is as follows. A day before you intend to cook the pernil, score its layer of fat and rub the whole thing with a strongly-flavored marinade made of chopped onions, garlic, cumin and chile powder. Wrap the meat in plastic wrap and set it in the fridge. When you wake up the next morning, turn your oven to 300° and put the pork in. Then you can basically forget all about it. Other than turning the pan every hour or so and making sure that the fat isn't burning--and covering the roast with tin foil if it is--you don't have to do anything but sit back and enjoy the intoxicatingly porky aromas that will fill your apartment, and, odds are, your entire apartment building. Around dinner time, remove the pork from the oven and let it rest for about 15 minutes. Then you can simply shred the meat into long, tender strands with a fork--it falls apart completely.

Pernil would be excellent served alongside rice and beans and a salad (to cut the richness of the fatty meat), but to keep things simple I chose to serve mine with two easy salsas: a basic tomato pico de gallo and a corn and black bean salsa (special thanks to Willy for his cilantro-chopping skills). With some warm corn tortillas on the side, it was a filling, satisfying meal that was perfect for the occasion.















































































Pernil
Adapted from nytimes.com
Makes at least 6 servings

Ingredients:

1 pork shoulder, 4 to 7 pounds (or use fresh ham)
4 or more cloves garlic, peeled
1 large onion, quartered 2 tablespoons fresh oregano leaves or 1 tablespoon dried oregano
1 tablespoon ground cumin
1 teaspoon ancho or other mild chili powder
1 tablespoon salt
2 teaspoons freshly ground black pepper
Olive oil as needed
1 tablespoon wine or cider vinegar Lime wedges for serving

Preparation:

1. Score meat’s skin with a sharp knife, making a cross-hatch pattern. Pulse garlic, onion, oregano, cumin, chili, salt and pepper together in a food processor, adding oil in a drizzle and scraping down sides as necessary, until mixture is pasty. (Alternatively, mash ingredients in a mortar and pestle.) Blend in the vinegar.

2. Rub this mixture well into pork, getting it into every nook and cranny. Cover with plastic wrap and place in fridge. Let marinate for 12-24 hours.

3. Heat oven to 300 degrees. Remove plastic wrap from pork and place in a roasting pan, filling the bottom with about a half inch of water. Roast pork for several hours (a 4-pound shoulder may be done in 3 hours), turning every hour or so and adding more water as necessary, until meat is very tender. Finish roasting with the skin side up until crisp, raising heat at end of cooking if necessary.

4. Let meat rest for 10 to 15 minutes before cutting it up; meat should be so tender that cutting it into uniform slices is almost impossible; rather, whack it up into chunks. Serve with lime.

Pico de Gallo
Makes about 3 cups

Finely dice 6 ripe plum tomatoes and place in a large bowl. Add one large white onion, finely diced, 3 cloves of garlic, minced, one bunch of finely chopped cilantro, 1-2 jalapeños, minced, the juice of 2-3 limes, and plenty of salt. Mix well and taste to adjust seasoning.

Corn and Black Bean Salsa
Makes about 4 cups

Open a 15.5 oz. can of black beans; rinse them of their liquid and drain well. Place in a large bowl. Add half a 10 oz. bag of thawed frozen corn, half a large white onion, finely diced, one bunch of finely chopped cilantro, the juice of 2-3 limes, and plenty of salt. Mix well and taste to adjust seasoning.

Another weeknight meal

Last night my roommate Anne and I enjoyed this quick pasta with cherry tomatoes, white beans and chicken for dinner. Anne supplied the ingredients and did the dishes; in exchange, I helmed the cooking process. The result of about 12 minutes' prep work in the kitchen was a warming, filling meal, perfect for the first (already brisk) night of fall:


















Penne with Cherry Tomatoes, White Beans and Chicken
Serves 4

1. Cut 2 boneless, skinless chicken breasts into bite-size pieces. Season generously with salt and freshly ground black pepper and set aside. Set a large pot of water on the stove to boil.
2. Heat 2 tbsp. of olive oil in large, heavy skillet over medium-high heat. Add the chicken and cook until browned on all sides and nearly cooked through, about 6 minutes. Remove the cooked chicken and set aside.
3. Lower the heat to medium and add 1 tbsp. more oil, if necessary. Add 2 chopped garlic cloves and cook, stirring, for about 1 minute. Do not let the garlic brown.
4. Over high heat, deglaze the pan with 1/2 cup chicken broth or dry white wine. Allow liquid to reduce for about 3 minutes, then add 1 pint of halved cherry tomatoes, a good amount of salt, and some crushed red pepper flakes. Cook over medium heat until tomatoes have wilted and released most of their liquid, about 4-6 minutes.
5. Add 1 small can (15.5 oz) of drained and rinsed white beans (cannellini beans) and the reserved chicken pieces to the skillet and stir gently. Lower heat and allow mixture to simmer. Meanwhile, salt the pasta water heavily and add about half a 1-lb. box of penne or other short pasta and cook until al dente, about 10-12 minutes.
6. Drain pasta and add to the simmering sauce, mixing well. Add about 1/2 cup chopped fresh parsley, reserving some for garnish, as well as a few tbsp. of olive oil and more salt and pepper to taste. Serve in bowls, topping each portion with more parsley and some grated parmesan, if desired.

We now return to our regularly scheduled programming

Well here I am, back as promised. Last night I cooked a quick, delicious and fabulously inexpensive dinner--and a somewhat unusual one, too. I'd like to share it with you.

I've written on the blog about the necessity, for me, that the meals I eat out--and the ones that I cook, too--are cheap (thus the Cheap Eats section on this site). Well, now that I'm living on my own and paying rent for the first time in my life, that's more important than ever. It's also of supreme importance, nowadays, that whatever I make for dinner be fast-cooking and relatively simple to make. I'm currently working 7 days a week (yes, you read that right), and while I still want to cook for myself it can be a bit of a challenge to get in front of a hot stove after a long day. Luckily, the meal I made last night fit the bill on both those counts.

What I made was a squid, white bean and tomato stew. Also known as calamari, squid is quite cheap and is a nice protein option when you're sick of the usual suspects like chicken, beef, fish, tofu or beans. I got my squid from the specialty foods store I work at, which is highly overpriced, for $8.99/lb (with my employee discount applied it cost $6.75/lb). That's not a bad price, but you can definitely find it cheaper, usually around $6.50/lb and even less in Chinatowns and Asian supermarkets. Anyway, I digress. The point is, squid is inexpensive and tasty and we should cook with it more often. When you buy it, just make sure it looks very white and non-slimey and that it has no fishy odor whatsoever.

For this simple and very last-minute stew all I did was sweat some onions and garlic, added some chicken broth, canned crushed tomatoes, canned white beans (aka cannellini), crushed red pepper flakes and dried oregano, brought it to a simmer and then slipped in some cleaned and rinsed calamari--both the tentacles (my favorite part: mmm, tentacles) and the bodies, sliced into rings. Now at this point you can go two ways: you can cook the stew just 4-5 minutes more, taking it off the heat as soon as the squid is cooked through, or you can let it simmer on the stove for about 25 minutes more. There is a culinary saying about squid that goes something like "cook it for 1 minute or 1 hour" which isn't entirely correct but which is good to keep in mind. That is, in order to ensure a tender final product, squid must be cooked very very quickly (think fried calamari) or low and slow. I opted for the latter because once all the chopping and stirring was done all I had to do was sit and play with my cat as my apartment filled with the enticing aromas of the bubbling pot on the stove. Also, cooking the stew longer will meld all the flavors better and produce a thicker, more luxurious broth. And who doesn't like a luxurious broth? The whole endeavor was still over and done with in 35 minutes, and the resulting dish was nourishing, satisfying and even a little bit out of the ordinary. Beat that, Rachel Ray.


















Squid, White Bean and Tomato Stew
Serves 4

1. Over medium-low heat, sweat half of a large white or yellow onion, finely chopped, in some olive oil. Add some kosher salt, two minced garlic cloves, some crushed red pepper flakes and some dried oregano, to taste.
2. Add one small can (14 oz.) of low-sodium chicken broth, 1 small can (14.5 0z.) of crushed tomatoes, and one small can (15.5 oz.) of rinsed and drained white beans (cannellini beans) and stir gently to combine, taking care not to crush the delicate beans. Add salt and freshly ground black pepper to taste.
3. Once the stew is simmering, add 1 pound of cleaned and rinsed squid, both the tentacles and the bodies, sliced into rings. Continue to simmer until stew is thickened and squid is tender, about 20 - 25 minutes. Serve in bowls, garnishing each portion with a spoonful of extra-virgin olive oil and some chopped fresh parsley.

The old standby

Every artist has something in his repertoire that he executes particularly well, even with a minimum of thought: maybe, for a painter, it's a particular type of landscape; for a musician, a certain movement of a composition; for a dancer, a specific progression of steps: something that has been practiced so many times that doing it is natural, even inherent. And for us chefs (or cooks) out there, there's the old standby: a dish that we've been making for as long as we have been cooking, and that has been so finely tuned over time that we could make it in our sleep.

The beauty of a dish like this is that it encourages improvisation. Sure, I may think that the cinnamon-raisin bread I make is perfect the way it is, but when preparing it for the umpteenth time I'll probably get sick of the raisins and decide to throw in some chopped dates instead; I might feel uninspired by cinnamon and decide that allspice will do the trick. Knowing a recipe like the back of your hand frees you up to riff a little bit: keeping (and accentuating) what you know by experience are the best elements of the dish, and modifying (or doing away with) the parts of it that could benefit from some changes.

One of my go-to recipes is this very simple salad of black beans, corn, red bell pepper and onions. Spiced with cumin and brightened with lime juice, it's light, crunchy, creamy, colorful and satisfying, all at once. Most everyone likes it, and it makes perfect barbecue or picnic fare because it doesn't need to be refrigerated--in fact, the longer it sits at room temperature the better the flavors meld together and complement each other. Where did I get the recipe? Who knows. I think I first made it back in high school, and I've been making it at least 3 or 4 times a year since then.

The basic elements of this recipe are quite interchangeable. Don't have access to any good, fresh corn? Use frozen instead. Forgot to pick up red onions or scallions (like I did earlier tonight)? Use a white or yellow onion. Your friends don't like cilantro? Use some chopped fresh parsley. You could have sworn that you had some limes at home, but they're nowhere to be found? Squeeze in a mix of orange and lemon juices instead--or some rice wine vinegar--or some apple cider vinegar. You get the point. I've made every single one of the above substitutions before, and I always like the way the salad comes out--even if it tastes different each time I prepare it. I guess that's why I never tire of the recipe, and probably never will--I'll always be able to tweak it a bit to suit the occasion (or my whims).

















Corn, Black Bean and Red Pepper Salad
Serves 6-8

1. Rinse and drain two 15.5-oz. cans of black beans and place them in a large bowl. Add a thawed 10-oz. package of frozen corn kernels and one large red bell pepper, finely diced. Add a small red onion, finely diced, or a large bunch of scallions (including the green tops), chopped.
2. Season the salad heavily with salt and freshly ground black pepper. Add 1 1/2 tsp. ground cumin, the juice of 1-2 limes, and 1/4 cup of olive oil.
3. Add 1/2 cup finely chopped cilantro to the salad and toss, taking care not to crush the beans. Taste and adjust seasonings. Serve at room temperature.

A feast from the Middle East

It was a pretty cooking-heavy weekend, so get ready for a lot of photos. On Saturday night my friends Anne, Sam and Dave came over for dinner, and during the day as I thought about what to cook I was struck with the desire to make hummus and baba ghanoush from scratch, which I had never done before. To complement those dishes, I decided to make some simple grilled chicken kebabs and tabbouleh.

Making the hummus and baba ghanoush was dead simple and fun, too--I liked the process of adding small amounts of seasoning, blending, tasting, and doing it all over again to get a precise balance of flavors. I must add that having a food processor is really what makes these recipes so easy, but you could definitely chop the eggplant by hand, and, with some dedication, mash the chickpeas up in a bowl. Both the hummus and baba ghanoush rely on the same flavorings--tahini (sesame seed paste), lemon juice, garlic and olive oil--for their distinctive taste. It's just a matter of fine-tuning things and tasting over and over again to achieve that savory, nuanced flavor. I used canned chickpeas (drained and rinsed) for the hummus, and two large eggplants for the baba ghanoush. They got roasted until they looked like this:

After the eggplants cooled, I peeled them, drained the flesh in a colander for a while (it's very, very watery), then pureed it up. The finished baba ghanoush, drizzled with extra olive oil and sprinkled with fresh parsley:

The chickpeas, too, got pureed in the food processor. Here's the hummus, garnished with olive oil, toasted pine nuts and parsley:

I improvised the marinade for the chicken, and it turned out very tasty--and bright green. Very, very bright green. All I did was toss a big handful of fresh herbs (we grow a variety on my deck) into the blender, added some plain yogurt, olive oil, smashed garlic,

salt and pepper, and blended it up:

What a lovely color, huh? Well, you'd think that the green would fade somewhat after the chicken was grilled, but sadly that was not the case. No matter, really; after marinating for 5 hours, the chicken was meltingly tender and full of flavor, if not very attractive:

And finally a light and refreshing tabbouleh, which is made from bulgur, tomatoes, cucumbers, lemon juice, olive oil, and lots of fresh chopped parsley and mint. A perfect dish for the summer heat:

The only thing missing from this meal was baklava, which I neglected to buy (or, of course, make). Oh well--our improvised dessert of chocolate ice cream with salty, crunchy peanut butter spooned on top wrapped up the evening nicely.

Fresh Herb Marinade for Grilled Chicken

Combine a handful each of fresh parsley, fresh thyme, and fresh chives in a blender, along with slightly less fresh rosemary. Add 3/4 cup plain yogurt, 1/2 cup olive oil, 2 smashed garlic cloves, salt and pepper and blend until smooth. Pour over chicken and marinate for as long as possible, preferably overnight. Drain the chicken of excess marinade before cooking.

Hummus

Makes 2 1/2 cups

Place 2 cans of rinsed drained chickpeas in a food processor and add 2 tbsp. tahini, the juice of 2 lemons, and 2 cloves of minced garlic. Pulse to combine. Add 1/3 - 1/2 cup of olive oil and blend hummus to desired consistency, tasting frequently to adjust seasonings. Add salt to taste. Serve drizzled with olive oil and sprinkled with fresh parsley and toasted pine nuts, if desired.

Baba Ghanoush

Makes 2 1/2 cups

1. Preheat the oven to 400°.

2. Place 2 large eggplants on an oiled baking sheet and roast them until skin is charred and flesh is very soft, about 20-25 minutes. Let cool.

3. When eggplants are cool, peel them--the skin will slip right off. Drain flesh in a colander for 10-15 minutes.

4. Place the eggplant in a food processor and add 2 tbsp. tahini, the juice of 2 lemons, and 2 cloves of minced garlic. Pulse to combine. Add 1/3 - 1/2 cup of olive oil and blend baba ghanoush to desired consistency, tasting frequently to adjust seasonings. Add salt to taste. Serve drizzled with olive oil and sprinkled with fresh parsley.

Tabbouleh

Makes 6 - 8 servings

1. Place 1 1/2 cups of finely-cracked bulgur in a bowl, drizzle with olive oil, and sprinkle with salt. Add 3 cups of near-boiling hot water; cover tightly with plastic wrap and let sit for 20 minutes or until water is absorbed.

2. Remove plastic wrap and fluff bulgur with a fork. Add 3 finely diced plum tomatoes; 1 large cucumber, peeled, seeded and finely diced; the juice of 1 1/2 lemons, 1/2 cup olive oil, 1 cup chopped parsley and 1/2 cup chopped mint. Season to taste with salt and pepper.

The last soup of the season

It's springtime here in Connecticut, and the time for soup has almost passed. But when I was considering what to make with the kale I got from the co-op, kale and white bean soup immediately came to mind. Deeply flavored with browned sausage, tons of garlic and a touch of red pepper flakes, it's the perfect dish for these last few cool spring nights:

















It's a dead-simple recipe, if you can even call it that. In a large pot, brown six ounces of fully-cooked sausage of any kind in olive oil (I used andouille, but chorizo is my personal favorite). Remove the sausage with a slotted spoon and sweat one large, finely chopped yellow onion in the remaining oil. Add 3-4 cloves of chopped garlic and cook a minute more. Then, add one bunch of kale that you've washed, destemmed, and torn into bite-size pieces. Cover the pot and let the kale cook out most of its moisture. Add back the sausage, along with one small can of drained white beans, one small can of chicken broth, and a can-ful of water. Cook, covered, for about 15-20 minutes more, until kale is dark green and tender. Season to taste with salt, black pepper, and red pepper flakes, and enjoy.

Instant Caribbean

I had some tender, delicious jerk chicken left over from lunch yesterday, so I decided to throw together two quick, complementary side dishes. A salad featuring the mango from the co-op, along with tomatoes, red onions, lime juice and zest, olive oil and cumin; and brown rice cooked with black beans, cumin, and coriander, and garnished with green onions.

Dinner party

A bunch of us gathered at Allan's house last night to make a festive dinner in celebration of our first weekend back on campus together (and, come to think of it, one of our last, as our graduation date looms ever closer...eek!). On the menu: cornbread with whole corn kernels and scallions, black bean cakes with pineapple salsa, roasted asparagus, an outrageous chocolate trifle, and a gorgeous pear-ginger upside-down cake.

Cornbread muffins. This was just a basic cornbread recipe to which we added thawed frozen corn kernels and chopped scallions:





















The asparagus from the co-op, roasted with olive oil, salt and pepper (6-8 minutes in a 425° oven):
















Black bean cakes. To serve 4 people, drain and rinse 2 cans of black beans. Transfer them to a large mixing bowl and mash them, leaving some whole beans. In a small skillet, briefly saute 1/2 a chopped red bell pepper in olive oil. Add it to the beans, along with 3 tbsp. mayonnaise, a handful of finely chopped scallions, a handful of chopped cilantro, a handful of breadcrumbs, and salt, pepper and cumin to taste. Mix well, and shape into 8 cakes. Refrigerate for 10-15 minutes to allow them to set, then pan-fry them in a shallow layer of vegetable oil until browned, about 4 minutes per side:





















Fresh salsa, utilizing the fantastically sweet and juicy pineapple from the co-op, along with red bell pepper, scallions, cilantro, lime juice, garlic, cumin, salt and red pepper flakes:
















My plate:
















And as if that weren't enough delicious food, two lovely desserts, courtesy of Allan and Malcolm and Zander and Andrea, respectively.

Trifle, featuring layers of coffee-soaked chocolate cake, chocolate pudding, whipped cream and crumbled Heath bars (use real whipped cream, not the frozen stuff the recipe calls for):





















Moist, buttery and rich pear-ginger upside-down cake, still warm from the oven:





















You know you wish you had been there.