Whole grain goodness, in shades of pink

In my last post I talked about the wonderful CSA—that's the Crown Heights CSA, to be exact—that I joined at the beginning of the summer. The produce I've been picking up weekly has been unfailingly fresh, great looking and even better tasting, and this Tuesday's haul was no exception. Among other items, I received a thick, verdant bunch of scallions, a large handful of palely golden wax beans, and three fat beets—one of my favorite vegetables of all time. With temperatures holding steady in the 90s the whole week, I knew that these veggies were destined to be eaten cold. The question was how to bring them together into harmony.

I thought about the different kinds of cold salads that we eat during the summer—beets with goat cheese, a pasta salad to chuck the beans into—and immediately dismissed them as been there, done that. I wanted to try something new. That's when I remembered the cold rice salads that my mom often made when I was growing up, usually with brown rice, vegetables, toasted nuts, etc. (my mother was really ahead of the curve when it came to eating and enjoying whole grains). I decided to take a cue from her, but also to go a step further into unknown territory by using a less common grain. My first thought was spelt, but the only version the Co-op carried was imported from Italy and a small bag cost a whopping six dollars. Right nearby, though, was a bag of equal size of wheatberries, priced to move at an incredible 55 cents. That's my kind of deal, people! I grabbed it up.

At home, I simmered the wheatberries in salted water for about 40 minutes (contrary to popular belief, wheat berries do not need to be soaked before cooking) until they were tender, then drained them and allowed them to cool. In the meantime, I boiled up my beets, peeled and diced them, and cut up and blanched my wax beans. I combined everything in a big bowl, adding liberal amounts of sliced scallions and chopped parsley, as well as a lemon-olive oil dressing. And then I took a picture:























But the story didn't end there, folks: oh no, it had just begun. You see, I wanted to take the photo a) while there was still natural light; and b) before the beets totally took over and dyed everything magenta (as opposed to the early, and still quite beautiful, subtle stage of blush that you see here). But there were more things to come for this salad: right before serving it, I dotted the top with fresh Spanish goat cheese—you could also use something like feta or ricotta salata—and sprinkled on some chopped toasted walnuts. With the snap of the beans, the sweetness of the beets, the nuttiness of the wheat berries and the creaminess of the cheese, I'd say this summer salad definitely achieved the harmony—nay, the symphony—that I was looking for.


Wheatberry Salad with Beets, Wax Beans and Fresh Cheese
Serves 6 - 8 as a side dish, 4 as a main

Ingredients:
1 cup wheatberries, picked through to remove any debris or hard grains
1/2 lb. wax beans, trimmed and cut into halves or thirds depending on length (or substitute green beans)
3 large beets, trimmed and cut into quarters, but not peeled
3 scallions, white and green parts, thinly sliced
1/2 bunch parsley, finely chopped
Juice of 2 lemons
Olive oil
Salt
Pepper
4 oz. fresh cheese, such as goat or sheep's milk, or use a mild feta or ricotta salata, cut into cubes or broken up into pieces
1/2 cup walnut pieces, toasted and chopped

Preparation:

1. Fill a medium pot with water and set it to boil. Add a generous amount of salt, then add the wheatberries. Drop to a simmer and cook, stirring occasionally, for about 40 - 50 minutes, or until wheatberries are tender. Drain and allow to cool.

2. In the meantime, fill a second medium pot with water. Set it to boil and salt generously. Drop in the beans and cook for exactly two minutes. Remove with a slotted spoon—do not drain, you'll need the water for the beets—and immediately rinse beans with very cold water to stop the cooking process.

3. Bring the bean water back to a boil and add the beets. Cook for about 20 minutes or until the beets are tender. Drain beets, then place them in a bowl while they are still hot. Cover bowl with a large plate (or with plastic wrap) and let the beets steam up as they cool down. This will make it a cinch to peel them. When cool enough to handle, peel beets and cut them into small pieces.

4. When wheat berries, beans and beets are cooked and cooled, combine in a large bowl. Add the scallions and parsley.

5. In a small bowl, combine the lemon juice with olive oil to taste, probably about the same quantity, or slightly more, as of the lemon juice. Season generously with salt and pepper. Pour over salad, and stir to combine. Chill in fridge until ready to eat.

6. Before serving, garnish the salad with the cheese and the walnuts.

It was supposed to be so simple

I had it all planned out: I would write a short, sweet little post about spring coming to Toulouse, the bounty of beautiful produce it's brought with it, and the delicate, yet unfussy, dish I would prepare with pristine white asparagus, a true harbinger of spring if ever there was one. Here, have a look at it, I invite you. Pretty stunning, no?

















There I was at the Marché Cristal, a lively, sprawling open-air market near my house, on a recent sunny morning, agape with wonder at all the new arrivals on display, and rendered nearly paralyzed with indecision at what to buy first: the slender green artichokes, leaves still attached, displayed like so many bouquets of flowers? The huge, curling pods of fava beans, or fèves, overflowing and nearly tumbling down from their slatted cases? How about a small container of perfect, sweet yet tart strawberries, real strawberries, the likes of which you hardly ever find in the United States these days?

















Somehow, I pulled myself together and made my purchases, starting, yes, with those lovely fraises, which I devoured in about three minutes upon reaching home, and finishing up with the bunch of asparagus pictured above. It was nearly lunchtime by the time I got home, and I was hungry, those berries not really having tided me over. I quickly trimmed up the asparagus, snapping the tough ends off, and threw them in a steamer to cook for, I wagered, about 12 minutes, until they were just tender. In the meantime, thought I, I'll put a little pot of water on the boil for a soft-cooked egg, which I envisioned as the perfect accompaniment to my asparagus, slumping gently over them, lubricating them with its rich yellow yolk. Sounds like a plan, no?

Well, sometimes even the most carefully thought out plans don't turn out the way we intend. You see, I had never actually cooked white asparagus before, and rather brashly assumed that its method of preparation was identical to that of its verdant cousin. And so when I tested a blond spear after about 10 minutes--lifting it from the steamer to see if it would bend ever-so-slightly--I could see that something was wrong. The tips of the asparagus seemed nice and tender, but the bottom part of the stem was still rather the same texture as it was when raw: woody and unyielding. "Well, OK," I thought to myself, "I'll just let them steam a little longer." Checked them again after ten minutes. No real discernible change. Abandoned my steaming mission and chucked the little devils right into the boiling water at the bottom. Ten more minutes, and it became clear that there was no salvaging this situation. I drained the little buggers, laid them out nicely on a plate as intended, draped them with lemony vinaigrette, and garnished them with some sliced tomatoes. I should add, at this point, that my frustration with the asparagus caused me to totally forgot about my lovingly cooked soft egg, and what I now had was a hard-cooked one. I saved it for later. I made another soft egg. And what I got, finally, was this:


















It doesn't look bad, does it? And see, it didn't taste bad, either. But the only edible part of the asparagus was the top half. The bottom half I had to sort of pull through my teeth, much as one eats a steamed artichoke leaf, to scrape out the interior softness and leave behind the tough, fibrous exterior. A lot of work for a lot of waste. It was a shame. And so as soon as I finished eating, I looked up the correct method of preparing white asparagus. Turns out that even the slenderest stems possess a hard outer peel that must be removed--with a knife--before cooking. It would have been nice to know that before, but I know it now. And so I've provided the emended recipe below. Here's hoping your maiden white asparagus voyage encounters smooth seas.


Steamed White Asparagus with a Soft-Cooked Egg
Serves 1

Ingredients:

- 1 small bunch fresh white asparagus (10 - 12 spears)
- 1 egg
- Vinaigrette made with mustard, lemon juice, salt and olive oil
- Sliced fresh tomatoes, for serving (optional)

Preparation:

1. Trim and peel the asparagus: as mentioned above, this step is indispensable and it's important to do it correctly. First, trim the bottom 1 inch from the asparagus spears. Then, using a small, sharp paring knife, peel the outer layer off, stripping the stem from the bottom up. Continue peeling nearly to the top of the spear.
2. Steam the asparagus: in a large, wide pot or pan, heat about 2 inches of water over high heat. When it boils, salt it, drop in the asparagus, cover and drop to a lively simmer. Steam, covered, until spears are tender, about 15 to 20 minutes.
3. Meanwhile, soft-boil the egg: place egg in a small saucepan and fill with cold water to cover. Place over medium-high heat; cover. When water boils, drop to a simmer and cook egg for exactly 8 minutes. Drain and immediately run egg under cold water to stop the cooking. When egg is cool, peel.
4. Drain asparagus and arrange warm spears on a plate, drizzling with about 3 teaspoons vinaigrette. Season with salt and pepper. Slice egg into halves or quarters and arrange over the asparagus. Serve with sliced tomato, if desired.

What I made with what I grew

Summer may be winding down, but my container garden is in full swing. This year I planted all hot-weather plants--tomatoes, bell pepper, zucchini and eggplant--and each one is loving this August heat. The tomatoes I've harvested have been the best-tasting I've eaten in a long time; the eggplant is tender and delicate in flavor and, best of all, extremely prolific; but the zucchini hold a special place in my esteem because they found their way into one of the freshest, easiest and most delicious summer side dishes I've made.

But first things first. To set the scene, let me show you a photo of what the zucchini looks like growing on the plant:


















When I harvested the first fruit, I didn't quite know what to do with it. The zucchini was small, so I didn't really want to cook it down; that would cause it to lose all its bulk. I decided, first of all, to leave it raw; I assumed that, owing to its diminutive size, it would be sweeter, in this state, than most market zucchini. When I spied a container of Greek-style yogurt in my refrigerator, I had it: a zucchini-yogurt salad. I make this dish all the time with cucumbers, adding lemon juice and salt and not much else, and I wagered that it would be even more delicious with my fresh, home-grown zucchini. But just to make sure, I took one extra step: I salted the zucchini judiciously ahead of time, then drained off the water that accumulated in the bowl. This process, traditionally used on eggplant to remove its bitter juices, accomplished the same feat with the zucchini and, moreover, rendered it a bit more pliable and "cooked"-seeming than it would have had I skipped that step. Slicked with cold, creamy yogurt and pepped up with a few slices of raw onion, plus a scant handful of chopped fresh oregano, this zucchini salad was the perfect antidote to the type of hot, sweaty summer day that (ordinarily) causes me to lose my appetite.



















Zucchini Yogurt Salad
Serves 2

Ingredients:

2 small green zucchini
Half a small white or yellow onion
1/2 cup plain Greek-style yogurt
Juice of 1 lemon
1 tbsp. chopped fresh oregano
Salt and freshly ground black pepper

Method:

1. Slice the zucchini into ribbons that are about 1/8" thick. Use whatever method is easiest for you: I sliced the zucchini lengthwise, creating a flat surface, then lay the halves down and sliced each portion crosswise into thin strips.
2. Place the ribbons in a bowl and then salt them generously, with about 1 tsp. kosher salt. Chill the bowl in the refrigerator until the zucchini has given off a fair amount of liquid, about 15 - 20 minutes. Remove the bowl from the fridge and drain the zucchini well. (Drain--not rinse. You'll want the remaining salt as seasoning.)
3. Slice the onion into thin half moons. Break up the strips of onion and add them to the bowl.
4. Add the yogurt to the bowl, then squeeze the lemon over. Season with pepper and, if needed, salt, add the chopped oregano, and mix well. Taste for seasoning. The salad is best served very cold; if necessary, place the bowl in the fridge for a few minutes to chill everything down.

Food & Wine, Patrick & Willy

About a month ago (this post, like most of my posts recently, is long overdue--hey, it's summer!), Patrick and Willy came over for yet another one of our dinners. It so happened that at work at Food & Wine that day I picked up the July issue of the magazine, thumbed through it, and found about a million recipes I wanted to try. I settled, though, on one that sounded perfect for a hot, humid day: Za'atar Flatbreads with Cucumber-Yogurt Salad. Za'atar (or zatar), a Middle Eastern spice blend that usually contains crushed sumac, dried thyme, and sesame seeds, is one of my very favorite ingredients, but I had only ever eaten it in restaurants and had never before cooked with it. But, like they say, there's no time like the present--or, at this point, the recent past. I promptly dog-eared the recipe, and, on my lunch break, strode the few blocks over to the market in Grand Central and, more specifically, to the Penzey's Spices stall therein. I grabbed a bottle of zatar and was halfway to having dinner on the table.

Well, maybe not quite halfway. But the rest of the recipe was remarkably simple. When I got home from work, I stopped into Peppe's, one of the many respectable pizzerias in my neighborhood, and picked up a round of pizza dough for $3. At home, I pounded it out, oiled it, and slapped it on a very hot charcoal grill, spooning a mixture of zatar and olive oil on the side facing up. About 6 minutes later, we had hot, yeasty bread that was perfect for scooping up the verdant, cooling accompanying salad of cucumber, spinach and peas bound together with Greek-style yogurt:

































To round out the vegetarian menu, I prepared another dish courtesy of Food & Wine: a green bean, roasted red pepper and cherry tomato salad that I had sampled in the test kitchen earlier that week. Brightened up with fresh thyme and basil from my garden and topped with crunchy, nutty toasted almonds, the salad perfectly rounded out the evening's menu:

















I'd say everyone was pleased, particularly Willy:



















Za'atar Flatbreads with Cucumber-Yogurt Salad
Adapted from foodandwine.com
Serves 6

Ingredients:

All-purpose flour, for dusting
12 oz. prepared pizza dough, divided into 2 pieces
5 oz. baby spinach
1/2 cup frozen baby peas, thawed
1 cup peeled and finely diced cucumber
2 tbsp. chopped parsley
2 tbsp. chopped mint
2 tbsp. chopped dill
2 tsp. minced garlic
One 17-oz. container Greek-style plain whole-milk yogurt
1 tbsp. fresh lemon juice
1/2 cup extra-virgin olive oil
2 cups shredded romaine lettuce
Kosher salt
1/2 cup za’atar spice mix

Preparation:

1. Preheat the oven to 450° and place a pizza stone on the bottom rack to heat for 30 minutes. Alternatively, light a charcoal grill or heat a gas grill on high.
2. On a lightly floured work surface, flatten the pizza dough into two 9-inch rounds, about 1/4 inch thick; transfer to 2 well-floured pizza peels or inverted baking sheets. Let stand until slightly risen, 20 minutes.
3. Meanwhile, in a large saucepan, wilt the spinach with 1 tablespoon of water over high heat. Transfer to a colander and rinse with cold water. Squeeze out the liquid and chop the spinach; transfer to a bowl. Add the peas and mash lightly with a fork. Stir in the cucumber, parsley, mint, dill and garlic. Add the yogurt, lemon juice and 2 tbsp. olive oil and stir to combine. Fold in the romaine and season with salt.
4. In a bowl, combine the za’atar with the remaining oil and a generous pinch of salt.
5. Shake the pizza peel a few times to loosen the dough. Dust flour under any areas that stick. Spread the za’atar oil over the dough. Slide the rounds onto the hot stone and bake for 10 minutes, until golden and crisp. To grill the flatbreads, oil one side lightly and flip that side onto the hot grill. Spread the za'atar oil over the side facing up. Grill for about 6 to 8 minutes.
6. Transfer the breads to a work surface and cut into wedges. Serve with the cucumber yogurt.

Green Bean, Roasted Red Pepper and Cherry Tomato Salad with Toasted Almonds
Serves 4
My improvised version of a Food & Wine test kitchen recipe

1. Preheat the oven to 425°. Lightly coat 2 red bell peppers in oil and place in the oven on a baking pan to roast until they are soft and their skins are blackened, turning occasionally, about 14 - 16 minutes. During the last few minutes of cooking, place a large handful of whole, preferably blanched almonds on a small baking pan and toast in the oven. Remove peppers from oven and place in a bowl. Cover the bowl with a tight layer of plastic wrap and set aside to cool. Remove almonds from oven and set aside to cool.
2. Blanch one pound of trimmed green beans in a shallow pan of salted water until bright green and still crisp, about 4 - 6 minutes. Drain and run under cold water to stop the cooking. Place green beans in a large bowl.
3. When peppers are cool enough to handle, peel skin from them, open them up and remove their seeds. Slice peppers into strips and add them to the bowl with the green beans.
4. Cut one pint of cherry tomatoes into quarters or halve one pint of grape tomatoes. Add tomatoes to bowl.
5. Dress salad with a mixture of lemon juice, red wine vinegar, olive oil, salt and pepper, to taste. Add generous handfuls of chopped fresh herbs, such as thyme and basil, and mix well.
6. Coarsely chop the almonds and sprinkle them over the salad. Divide between four plates and serve.

Why I love leftovers

I've never understood people who don't like leftovers. Whatever their reasons may be--that the food they prepare will never taste as good as it did when it was made fresh, that they get sick of eating the same thing (no matter how delicious it is) two or three times in a row, that they simply don't have the refrigerator space--I don't get it. I love leftovers. Leftovers, actually, sort of define my cooking style. I don't often follow recipes, preferring to rifle through my fridge (and freezer), taking stock of what needs to be used up and how it would best be transformed into something else. Leftovers don't bore me; they inspire me.

I even like leftover food that I didn't make in the first place. Working at a food magazine and also in catering, I'm often sent home with extra food that might otherwise get thrown out. Such was the case last weekend when I worked a fancy, exclusive party on Fire Island. A ton of perfectly cooked, expertly seasoned filet mignon remained unserved at the end of the night, and I packed away two particularly succulent-looking steaks to bring on the bus ride home. They made their way onto my dinner plate a few nights later when Gideon (of Snackin' with Steinberg fame) came over to eat. While he made his excellent rendition of guacamole, I sliced the steaks thinly and laid them over a salad of soft romaine and slivers of red onion, heaped them with fresh cilantro and chopped salty peanuts, then dressed the whole with a mixture of lime juice, fish sauce, sugar and vegetable oil. And so out of distant French origins, a delicious Thai beef salad was born. You still don't want your leftovers? Pass 'em over to me.


















Thai Beef Salad with Lime Dressing
Serves 2

1. Wash and dry two generous servings of romaine or red leaf lettuce, about half a large head. Tear them into large pieces and divide between two plates.
2. Thinly slice 1/2 of a large red onion and divide it between the two plates, distributing it evenly over the lettuce.
3. Thinly slice one medium to large portion of rare, seasoned steak--the cut is not that important as this is a dish to make with leftover meat--and fan the slices out over the salads.
4. Take a good handful of fresh cilantro--stems and all--and tear it up, sprinkling it over the salads.
5. Coarsely chop a large handful of roasted salted peanuts and sprinkle them over the two salads.
6. Make the dressing: in a small bowl, combine the juice of two limes with about 1 tsp. soy sauce, 1 tsp. fish sauce, 1 1/2 tsp. sugar, a pinch of salt and about 3 tbsp. vegetable oil. Whisk mixture and taste; you might need to adjust the ingredients if the dressing is too sour, too sweet or otherwise unbalanced.
7. Dress the salads, drizzling the dressing evenly to ensure that all the ingredients are well coated.

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.

A birthday dinner

On April 15th, my mom turned 60. She threw a big party, and old friends from all over the country flew in to see her. She was heaped with presents, receiving everything from jewelry to decorative plates and vases to cookware--all lovely gifts, to be sure, but for my present I wanted to offer her something homemade. Remember when you were a little kid and you would painstakingly create birthday cards for your parents out of construction paper, glue, and obscene amounts of glitter? They took hours of fierce dedication to complete, and were true measures of your devotion. In a slightly more mature variation on this tried-and-true gift-giving tradition, this year my present to my mother was a three course meal cooked from scratch.

In my humble opinion, a home-cooked meal is one of the finest gifts you can receive. The giver has to plan out the menu in accordance with the recipient's likes and dislikes; they have to shop for the ingredients; and, finally, they must cook and serve the meal. A lot of thought goes into this process, and who in this world doesn't appreciate it when someone else thinks of them? And don't think that the gift-giver doesn't get something out of the deal, too. For someone, like me, who loves to cook, preparing a meal for someone else is great fun. I can't just shoot from the hip, as it were, riffing on the contents of my refrigerator and throwing together something that satisfies my tastes alone. I have to put myself in someone else's shoes, I must imagine what kind of meal someone else likes to sit down to, and that often means using a recipe or technique that I don't often employ on my own. It's good practice, and it's a good time.

There were a number of factors to take into account when planning the menu for my mom's birthday dinner. First and foremost, she is a very healthy eater; she likes to eat whole grains and hearty, nutritious items such as beans, squash, and sweet potatoes. She eats and enjoys red meat, but only infrequently; usually, she prefers lighter proteins such as fish and poultry. Finally--and most importantly--my mother is a chocoholic in the truest sense of the word. It's she who taught me to appreciate the virtues of a dark, bitter piece of chocolate--an item she eats on a daily basis. There was no question that, whatever the meal, the grand finale would have to exalt chocolate.

And so, without further ado, here is what I made. To start, we ate Warm Squash Salad with Candied Pepitas, a recipe I adapted from one I found on epicurious.com. In this salad, still-warm pieces of roasted butternut squash are piled on top of bitter arugula and topped with shaved parmesan and sweet spiced pumpkin seeds:

















For the main dish, I made Stuffed Squid Braised in Aromatic Tomato Sauce. Again, I adapted this recipe from epicurious. This dish is somewhat laborious but really fun to make. First, you finely chop the squid tentacles and saute them in olive oil. Once cooled, they provide the base for the stuffing, which also includes fresh bread crumbs, chopped herbs, grated parmesan and lemon zest. The filling gets spooned into the hollow squid bodies, which are the perfect vessels for stuffing. They're then browned in olive oil and finally allowed to braise in a bright, simple tomato sauce until the filling has expanded and they're perfectly tender. I served them over orzo:

















The insides of these guys looked really cool flecked with green from the herbs and purple from the tentacles. Here's a cross-section:

















I might be calling the squid the main course, but for my mother the main event was dessert. I made her a deep, rich, crisp-on-the-outside-gooey-on-the-inside chocolate torte--regally named the Queen of Sheba--from a wonderful cookbook called Bittersweet written by a wonderful author named Alice Medrich. The torte consists, basically, of chocolate, butter, eggs and sugar; a scant two tablespoons of flour provide some solidity to this souffle-like confection:

















I served the slices with a little bit of barely-sweetened whipped cream:


















Happy birthday, Mom!


Warm Squash Salad with Candied Pepitas
Adapted from epicurious.com
Serves 4

Ingredients:

1 tbsp. unsalted butter
1 tbsp. sugar
1/2 tsp. ground cumin
1/4 tsp. cinnamon
1/4 tsp. paprika
1/4 tsp. cayenne
1 tsp. salt
1/2 cup raw green (hulled) pumpkin seeds (pepitas)
1 tbsp. cranberry juice cocktail
2 tsp. Sherry vinegar
1 tbsp. minced shallot
4 tbsp. extra-virgin olive oil
1 1/2 lbs. butternut squash, peeled, seeded, and cut into 1/2" thick slices
1 small piece Parmesan cheese
1 bunch arugula, trimmed, washed, and dried

Preparation:

1. Roast the squash: preheat the oven to 450°. Toss squash with 1 tablespoon olive oil and salt and pepper to taste in a shallow baking pan and arrange slices in 1 layer. Roast in the middle of the oven until just tender, about 20 minutes. Remove from oven, then cover with tin foil to keep warm.
2. Make the candied pepitas: melt butter in a heavy saucepan over moderate heat. Stir in the sugar, cumin, cinnamon, paprika, cayenne, and 1/2 teaspoon salt, then cook, without stirring, until caramelized. Add the pumpkin seeds and cook, stirring occasionally, until seeds are puffed and golden. Transfer to a plate to cool. When seeds have hardened, break up any clumps with your fingers.
3. Make the dressing: whisk together the cranberry juice, vinegar, and shallot and let stand 5 minutes. Whisk in 3 tablespoons oil, remaining 1/2 teaspoon salt, and pepper to taste.
4. Assemble the salad: shave 12 strips from the cheese with a vegetable peeler. Place a large handful of arugula on each of 4 salad plates, then top with a few pieces of squash. Divide dressing evenly among 4 plates. Top each salad with 3 cheese shavings and a generous sprinkling of pumpkin seeds.


Stuffed Squid Braised in Aromatic Tomato Sauce
Adapted from epicurious.com
Serves 4

Ingredients:

2 lbs. cleaned squid with tentacles, rinsed
6 tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil
2 (14- to 15-oz) cans diced tomatoes, puréed in a blender or food processor until smooth
5 fresh basil leaves
1/2 tsp. salt
1/2 tsp. black pepper
1 cup finely grated aged Pecorino or Parmesan cheese
1 cup finely ground fresh bread crumbs (from an Italian loaf)
1/2 cup chopped fresh flat-leaf parsley
4 garlic cloves, minced
Zest of one lemon
2 large eggs, lightly beaten

Preparation:

1. In a food processor, finely chop tentacles. Heat 3 tbsp. oil in a wide 5- to 6-quart heavy pot over moderately high heat and sauté tentacles, stirring, until just cooked through, about 1 minute. Transfer with a slotted spoon to a bowl and cool.
2. Stir tomatoes into oil in pot along with basil, salt, and 1/4 tsp. pepper and simmer, uncovered, stirring occasionally, 10 minutes. While sauce simmers, stir together Pecorino, bread crumbs, parsley, garlic, lemon zest, eggs, sautéed tentacles, and remaining 1/4 teaspoon pepper. Gently stuff each squid body with a slightly rounded tablespoon of filling and pat squid to distribute filling evenly. Weave a wooden pick horizontally across wide opening of each squid to seal. (During cooking, stuffing will expand and squid will shrink, forming a rounded, well-stuffed squid. Do not overstuff!)
3. Heat remaining 3 tbsp. oil in a 12-inch heavy skillet over moderately high heat and sauté squid, turning over once, until browned and any liquid given off is evaporated, about 6 minutes total. Add squid to tomato sauce and simmer, covered, until squid is tender, 25 to 30 minutes. Discard picks and serve squid, about 4 per person, with sauce over cooked orzo. Garnish with chopped parsley.

"Queen of Sheba" Chocolate Torte
Adapted from Bittersweet by Alice Medrich
Makes one 9" cake

Ingredients:

6 oz. bittersweet chocolate, coarsely chopped
10 tbsp. (1 1/4 sticks) unsalted butter, cut into pieces
3 tbsp. brandy or whiskey
1/2 tsp. vanilla extract
1/4 tsp. salt
1/2 cup unblanched (skin on) whole almonds
2 tbsp. all-purpose flour
4 large eggs, at room temperature, separated
3/4 cup sugar
1/4 tsp. cream of tartar
Very lightly sweetened whipped cream

Preparation:

1. Position rack in the lower third of the oven. Preheat to 375°. Prepare a 9" round springform pan by placing a round of wax paper on the bottom.
2. Place the chocolate and butter in a medium heatproof bowl set over a pan of simmering water. Stir occasionally until melted and smooth. Remove from heat and stir in brandy, vanilla and salt. Set aside.
3. Meanwhile, pulse the flour and the almonds in a food processor until finely ground. Set aside.
4. In a large bowl, whisk the egg yolks with 1/2 cup sugar until thick and well blended. Stir in the chocolate mixture a little at a time.
5. In a clean dry bowl, with an electric mixer, beat the egg whites and cream of tartar at medium speed until soft peaks form when the beaters are lifted. Add the remaining 1/4 cup of sugar and beat at high speed until the peaks are stiff and glossy but not dry. Scoop one quarter of the egg whites and all of the nut mixture on top of the chocolate batter and carefully fold them in using a large rubber spatula. Fold in the remaining egg whites. Pour the batter into the prepared pan, spreading it level if necessary.
6. Bake for 25 to 30 minutes, or until a toothpick inserted in the edge comes out dry but a toothpick inserted in the center comes out moist and gooey. Set the pan on a rack to cool.
7. To serve, slide a slim knife around the inside of the pan to loosen cake. Remove the pan sides and invert the cake onto a plate, remove the wax paper, and invert again onto a platter or cake stand. Cut cake into wedges and serve each slice with a little whipped cream on top.

A discussion of fashion, fueled by frittata

Last week marked the third installment of my semi-regular dinners with my friends Willy and Patrick, whereby, in exchange for my home cooking, the two provide some type of refreshing alcoholic beverage and a dessert of some kind (preferably a selection of 35¢ Big Boy ice cream sandwiches). Being that Patrick is a vegetarian, these dinners challenge my creativity in the kitchen (which, for me, is great fun). Although I often cook and enjoy meat-free meals for myself, I feel that the ante is upped when I prepare them for a bona fide vegetarian: it's on me to make a filling and well-rounded plate that will satisfy someone who has eaten all manner of vegetarian creations, and knows what's good and what's not.

I can't speak for vegetarians, but as someone who cooks, I truly feel that eggs are the saving grace when it comes to meat-free meals. As I mentally ran through a variety of menu options for my dinner with the guys, I kept settling on things like pasta (which I had made for both of the other dinners: first with roasted vegetables and then with potatoes and pesto), some sort of Asian rice or noodle dish, or dishes founded on potatoes (something like, for example, colcannon ). I was thinking about starch, not about protein. And then suddenly I remembered that I had a nearly-full carton of eggs in my fridge that needed to be used up. I felt immensely relieved: yes, that will be tasty! Yes, that will be filling!

Once I had settled on making an egg dish, the rest of my plans fell into place quite naturally. Minimally intensive and maximally satisfying, a frittata fit the bill. Almost anything goes in a frittata--that's what makes it such a perfect food--but I decided to pack mine, this time, with potatoes, red peppers and spinach, three ingredients that I view as natural matches for each other. On the side, I prepared a quick garlic bread (simply a baguette, halved lengthwise, brushed with garlic-infused olive oil, sprinkled with salt, and toasted in the oven) as well as a salad of fresh baby spinach (left over from the frittata-making), peppery arugula, thinly sliced apples and toasted walnuts. Dinner conversation covered a range of topics, from opinions on men wearing V-necks (unanimously opposed), to anyone, man or woman, wearing shorts (Patrick and Willy approved; I demurred), to the greatness of the band the Vaselines and of trips outside of New York City. We didn't really talk about the food, but I think that the empty bread plate, the empty salad bowl, the nearly empty frittata pan (save for two slices) and the three empty ice cream sandwich wrappers spoke to our enjoyment of the dinner.

































Potato, Red Pepper and Spinach Fritatta
Makes 8 wedges

1. Wash 3 large or 4 small waxy (new) potatoes. Cut them into bite-size pieces and place them in a small pot. Fill pot with enough cold water to just cover potatoes. Cover the pot and set it over high heat to bring water to a boil, then drop heat to medium and allow potatoes to cook at a low boil until tender, about 6 minutes more. Drain the potatoes.
2. Meanwhile, rinse one large red bell pepper and cut it open to remove seeds and ribs. Slice the pepper into long, thin strips and cook them slowly in about 2 tbsp. of olive oil in a deep, wide pan (preferably a 10" cast-iron skillet) set over medium heat. Season strips with salt and pepper and stir occasionally. The strips are done when they are tender and well-browned, about 15 - 18 minutes.
3. Increase the heat under the skillet of peppers to medium and begin to add handfuls of well-washed baby spinach or regular spinach, torn, to the pan. Season with salt and stir, allowing the spinach to wilt. Add about 5 cups of raw spinach; it will cook down to about 1 1/2 cups.
4. Add diced potatoes to the pan and stir to combine.
5. Meanwhile, beat 8 large eggs in a bowl, seasoning them with salt and pepper. Additionally, grate 1 cup of semifirm mild cheese, like Idiziabal, Manchego or Gruyere, and set aside.
6. Add about 1 tbsp. more olive oil to the pan and tilt to coat the bottom. Set flat and arrange vegetables in an even layer over the bottom of the pan. With the pan over medium heat, pour in the beaten eggs. Stir them only occasionally, so that they begin to set. Using a rubber spatula or wooden spoon, pull the outer, set layer of eggs into the middle of the pan, and repeat.
7. When eggs begin to set more firmly, add the cheese, sprinkling it evenly over the eggs and stirring to combine. Preheat your oven's broiler. When it is hot, slide the skillet underneath and cook until the top of the fritatta is set and browned. Watch it closely! This should take about 4 - 6 minutes but may happen more quickly if your broiler is especially hot.
8. Remove the skillet from the oven and slice it into 8 wedges. Serve hot, warm or cold. We enjoyed the fritatta hot when I first made it and it was delicious, but when I ate it cold from the refrigerator the next day it was also great because I could taste the cheese more distinctly.


















Spinach and Arugula Salad with Apples and Toasted Walnuts
Serves 4

1. Thoroughly wash and dry 1 large bunch of baby spinach. Pick off large or tough stems and place the spinach in a large bowl.
2. Thoroughly wash and dry 1 large bunch of arugula. Pick off large or tough stems and either tear or slice the arugula into wide ribbons. Place in the bowl.
3. Core 1 tart green apple and cut it into wedges. Slice each wedge into about 8 or 10 very thin slices and add them to the bowl.
4. Toast about 3/4 cup walnuts, either in a small pan over medium heat or in a 300° oven, for about 6 minutes. Let cool completely. Add to bowl.
5. Prepare a simple vinaigrette for the salad. Stir together a mix of red wine vinegar and balsamic vinegar (about 1/3 cup total) with salt and pepper. Whisk in about 1/2 cup extra virgin olive oil. Pour mixture over salad and toss until evenly coated. Serve at once.

A brief sojourn to the country

Last weekend I finally escaped New York City and headed upstate to my friend Gideon's country house. As I detailed in this post, Gideon and I like to cook together and we tend to create some really delicious things. The past weekend was no exception. We arrived late at night and got right to work the next morning, making oatmeal griddle cakes for breakfast. The recipe, which we found in the classic Joy of Cooking, is dead simple; you basically just add the usual pancake ingredients (flour, leavening, eggs) to cooked oatmeal, mix, and fry. A great use for leftover oatmeal, they made a filling, hearty breakfast that fortified us for our hike in the frigid woods:

















For dinner that night we roasted a chicken and some potatoes in exactly the same manner as I demonstrated in my recent post on roasted chicken. This one came out just as nicely:

































On the side we enjoyed a refreshing salad of green leaf lettuce, sectioned grapefruits, sliced red onions and avocados dressed with olive oil and rice wine vinegar. The lightness of the salad was a perfect counterpoint the warm, rich and salty chicken and potatoes:

















As good as that whole plate of food was, I think my favorite part of our meal was the little cooks' treat that we made at the beginning as we cleaned the chicken: chopped liver. Gideon happened to have some homemade chicken and matzoh ball soup that he had made with his grandmother, so as any good Jews would do we skimmed the top of its schmaltz (that's chicken fat, used for cooking, for you Goyim out there) and slow-cooked the one liver that came with the chicken, along with some chopped onions, in a small pan. We then seasoned it well with salt and pepper and whirred it up with some fresh parsley in a little electric chopper. Here it is spread on some olive bread and garnished with raw red onion:

















The chicken was a large one and took a while to roast in the oven. As it did, Gideon and I decided that we wanted to bake something, so we made challah bread. For a yeast bread, it's very simple to make and doesn't take too much time. Here's what it looked like after we braided it and let it rise for a second time:

















And here it is after being coated with an egg wash and baked:

















And here it is after being converted to French toast the next morning:

















Think we were done eating by that point? Well, not quite. Late on Sunday afternoon we threw together this chicken salad with parsley, tomatoes, red onion, olives, olive oil and vinegar and made to-go sandwiches to bring in the car:

















Needless to say, after polishing those off I was quite full.

Oatmeal Griddle Cakes
Serves 2-3
Adapted from Joy of Cooking

1. Sift 1 cup of all-purpose flour. Re-sift with 1 1/2 tsp. baking powder and 1/2 tsp. salt.
2. Stir together 1 1/2 c. cooked oatmeal, 1/2 c. milk, and 2 tbsp. melted butter. Add one egg, beaten, and stir to combine.
3. Stir in the dry ingredients until just combined. Fry the cakes on a heated buttered griddle or cast-iron pan, about 3-4 minutes per side. Serve with butter and maple syrup.

Challah Bread
Makes 1 loaf
Adapted from Joy of Cooking

1. In a small bowl, mix 1 packet of active dry yeast with 1/4 c. warm water and 1 1/2 tbsp. sugar. It should froth up; if it does not, discard and try again with different yeast.
2. Measure out 3/4 c. warm water and add a pinch of saffron to it.
3. Sift 3 c. flour with 1 1/2 tsp. salt into a large bowl. Create a well in the center and add 2 eggs, lightly beaten, 2 tbsp. vegetable oil, the saffron water, and the yeast mixture. Using a wooden spoon, stir until combined. The dough will be very sticky.
4. Turn the dough out onto a floured surface and knead, with floured hands, until it becomes smooth and elastic, about 10 minutes. Place the dough in a large bowl that has been oiled and turn it over so that both sides are coated. Cover and let rise in a warm place until doubled in volume, about 1 hour.
5. Punch the dough down and knead it again, briefly, on the floured surface. Create three long, ropey strands of dough and place them on a greased and floured baking sheet. Braid the strands together and tuck the ends underneath. Allow the loaf to rise again, about 1/2 to 1 hour.
6. Preheat the oven to 400°. Make an egg wash of one egg yolk beaten with a little water. Brush it all over the loaf and bake it in the 400° oven for 15 minutes, then turn the heat down to 350° and bake for another 15 minutes. The loaf is done when it is well browned and sounds hollow when tapped on the bottom. Allow it to cool before you slice it.

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.

Friday night dinner

Sarah and Becca came over on Friday night for an easy roast chicken dinner. Sarah contributed the chicken (thanks Sarah!), which was free-range and organic, and very moist and tasty, too:

















This was a very small chicken, only about 2.5 - 3 lbs. What I did was pat the skin dry and season the outside with an extremely liberal amount of salt and pepper. I seasoned the inside of the chicken, too, and also placed a quarter of a lemon and a bunch of fresh oregano in the cavity. I placed the chicken on a bed of quartered artichokes, which soaked up all the chicken-y juices, and roasted it in a 425° oven for about 40-50 minutes, or until the juices ran clear when I made a small cut in the leg (the dark meat takes the longest). We let the chicken rest for about 10 minutes so it would stay moist. While that was happening, we made a salad with the lettuce and cucumbers from the co-op, along with some tomatoes I had lying around. The mise:

















Sarah made a tangy dressing using olive oil, lemon juice, red wine vinegar, dijon mustard, fresh oregano, and salt and pepper. The finished product:

















The salad was crisp, light and refreshing--the perfect counterpoint to the warm, salty and rich chicken.