Psycho Cooker, Qu'est-ce que c'est?

Pan-Fried Tilapia Remix

2012-02-12T15:52:00.000-07:00

Pan-fried tilapia is simply delicious, and if you need further justification of that statement, you can read about it in more detail in a one of my previous posts, singing its praises. I usually don’t blog about the same dish twice, unless I find a way to improve it. My recipe for tilapia recently received an upgrade, not by varying ingredients, but by varying the cooking vessel. I recently purchased my very first cast iron pan, and my only regret is that I waited so long to do so. This is not only an upgrade for tilapia, but also an improvement for my kitchen in general. This is particularly good news for anything sautéed/pan-fried, as those foods always tastes best when they achieve a golden, brown hue. Deeper color results in deeper flavor, and a crispier texture. Cast iron pans help to maximize this “golden (brown) rule,” and my most recent batch of pan-fried tilapia exemplified this. My new favorite pan yielded crispy, golden fish fillets that were perfectly moist on the inside. Cast iron gets hotter than non-stick pans, which allowed for the beautiful color to develop quickly, without overcooking the fish.

I also made a dill-mustard cole slaw to go alongside my fish. Cole slaw is a common side dish for fried fish for a reason: it is a perfect complement. It’s like serving your fish with a refreshing, crunchy tartar sauce. Creamy, crunchy, tart, and briny: pan-fried tilapia couldn’t ask for anything more. The dressing was both creamy and vinegary, with a nice bite from spicy mustard, and bright from the addition of fresh dill. Following the general trend of cole slaw, this one gets better as it sits, so I recommend making it at least 30 minutes to an hour before serving. It will continue to get better over the next day or so, as well.

Pan-Fried Tilapia: click here

Mustard-Dill Cole Slaw (loosely based on the Food Network’s recipe)

• 1/2 cup mayonnaise (I prefer olive-oil based)

• 2 tablespoons white wine vinegar

• 1 tablespoon whole-grain mustard, spicy brown mustard, or German mustard

• 3 tablespoons chopped fresh dill (plus extra for garnish)

• Kosher salt and freshly ground pepper

• 1/2 head light-green cabbage, thinly sliced (about 6 cups)

• 1 small carrot, shredded

• 1 bunch scallions, white and light green parts, thinly sliced

- Wisk together mayonnaise, vinegar, mustard, with about 20 grinds of fresh pepper and about ¼ teaspoon of kosher salt.

- In a large bowl add the cabbage, carrot, and scallions. Add about ¾ of the dressing and the dill. Add more dressing if needed. Garnish with dill when serving.

Turkey Burgers

2012-02-07T21:27:00.001-07:00

I made these turkey burgers after I saw Anne Burrell whip them up on the Food Network. She is truly a gifted lover and creator of food. Her recipes are so thoughtful. She has a reason for everything she does, and she doesn’t feel the need to dress up her show with phony stories about staged social events. Sometimes that can be entertaining, but Anne Burrell’s straightforward quality is refreshing.

Her recipe for turkey burgers has a couple unexpected and lovely touches, such sautéed onions and garlic (so nice to have them present, but without any raw acrid flavor). Also, the recipe included water chestnuts for crunch. Anne also added some water to the mix to keep the burgers moist, and I fully support this. The burgers are boldly flavored with soy sauce, fresh ginger, and cilantro. I also appreciated that she took a burger with a blatant Asian flair, and gave it the full American-burger-treatment with cheese, buns, a spicy mayo, etc. I recommend a thick slice of white cheddar melted on top. Below is my version of her recipe.

I made these burgers on a Sunday night and continued to enjoy them throughout the week. My mom follows an exacting formula for heating up leftover burgers, and it worked well with these turkey burgers. Start with a frozen bun/piece of bread; add the cold burger and a slice of cheese. Then wrap the sandwich in a paper towel and microwave for 60 seconds. I’m sure there’s other ways to do it as well; reheating burgers isn’t exactly a subtle art form. However, a nice paper-towel-wrapped turkey burger is certainly a nice way to end your day, especially after a good spin class (I love spin class at the moment).

Turkey Burgers (adapted from Anne Burrell)

½ lb. ground white meat turkey

¾ lb. ground turkey thigh

1 small onion, diced

2 cloves garlic, minced

2-4 teaspoons olive oil

1 8 oz can water chestnuts, chopped

¼ cup minced cilantro

2 inches fresh ginger, grated

2 tablespoons soy sauce

2 teaspoons Sriracha

Kosher salt

2-4 tablespoons water

Optional Garnishes:

Sliced cheddar cheese

Mayo mixed with Sriracha

Buns

Lettuce leaves

Onion

Tomatoes

- Sauté the diced onion in olive oil in a large skillet over medium heat for 5-10 minutes, until onion is very soft. Season with salt and add minced garlic. Sauté for an additional minute. Remove from pan and set aside. Wipe out the pan.

- Gently mix onions/garlic with remaining ingredients with your hands.

- With approximately a tablespoon of the turkey mixture, form a tiny burger patty. Cook in the skillet about 2 minutes per side, and eat it in order to test for seasoning. Adjust accordingly.

- Form turkey mixture into 4 equal patties. Cook over medium high heat with a drizzle of olive oil, cooking in batches as to not crowd the pan. Burgers with need approximately 8 minutes per side to cook through. When they are done, they will be firm to the touch.

- Add cheese to melt. Make burgers with desired toppings. (It’s nice to leave some burgers without cheese so leftovers may have freshly melted cheese)

Shakshuka

2012-01-08T16:18:00.000-07:00

This recipe is foolproof. The evening I made it, I was behaving like a fool, and it still came out great. That day, I picked up a new pair of glasses, which was an exciting event since they are my first new pair in nine years. When I retrieved them from the optometrist’s office, I relegated my contacts to a clean, white case in order to test out the glasses, and wore the glasses home. This was my first foolish decision as the new prescription left me initially disoriented, which probably did not bode well for my driving. I drove home nervously, hauled my things up to my apartment, and couldn’t find the contacts case. After a quick and unsuccessful peruse of my car, I became a little panicky. When the new prescription left me feeling nauseous, my heart rate picked up. After a more thorough but equally unsuccessful search of my car and a call to the optometrist’s office to see if I had abandoned them, I started to sweat. Just when I was in a complete state of panic, I found my contacts tucked neatly into my new glasses class, which left me feeling stupid, but relieved.

I then began to focus my nervous energy on dinner. I had some feta cheese I wanted to use, so I turned to Tastespotting for inspiration. While browsing the website, I was amazed to find every recipe had feta cheese in it. I thought the stars were aligning in my favor, but then I realized that I had actually searched for feta cheese, and forgotten that detail. Sigh. Luckily, amidst all of this, I remembered something called shakshuka, which I have been meaning to make for some time (I pronounce this as “shack-shooka,” but I probably wrong). It is an Israeli dish where eggs are poached in a spicy tomato sauce and topped with feta cheese. Eggs in tomato sauce may sound strange, but it is common in Italian cooking and, of course, in shakshuka. At an old restaurant job, one of the chefs used to make it for the staff. Also, a friend recently e-mailed me a shakshuka recipe and Bon Appétit published a version in the December issue. I’m not sure how all of this information was accessible in my brain when I was incapable of retaining other more recent and relevant details, but I went ahead and made shakshuka anyway.

The tomato sauce had a good, strong kick from fresh jalapenos (which I partially seeded), and bold smokiness from a healthy dose of cumin and paprika. I first sautéed onions and jalapenos in olive oil and added the spices to toast them before adding the tomatoes. The spices mixed the onions looked like sludge and smelled like heaven. Then that mass of concentrated flavor was simmered with tomatoes and some chickpeas. After bubbling and mingling together, eggs were gently poached in the sauce until the whites were cooked, but the yolks remained runny and luscious. Personally, I air on the side of a slightly overcooked yolk to prevent the dilemma of snotty egg whites. The bottoms of the yolk were cooked hard, but there was still plenty of velvety yolk (and none of that snot that I hate). I finished it with fresh parsley and lots of salty feta, and ate it with a spoon to effectively scrape the bottom of the bowl. It made for a spicy, satisfying, and inexpensive weeknight meal.

Shakshuka (adapted from Smitten Kitchen and Epicurious)

¼ cup olive oil 

2 jalapeños, stemmed, seeded, and finely chopped (I removed about ½ of the stems/seeds)

1 small yellow onion, chopped 

3 cloves garlic, minced 

1 teaspoon ground cumin 

1 tablespoon paprika 

1 28-ounce can whole peeled tomatoes, undrained

1 14-ounce can chickpeas, drained and rinsed (I used about a cup)

Kosher salt, to taste 

4 eggs 

1/2 cup feta cheese, crumbled 

2-3 tablespoons chopped flat-leaf parsley 

Warm pitas, for serving (optional)

Heat oil in a 12-inch skillet over medium-high heat. Add chiles and onions and cook, stirring occasionally, until soft and golden brown, about 10 minutes.

Add garlic, cumin, and paprika, and cook, stirring frequently, until garlic is soft, about 2 more minutes.

Put tomatoes and their liquid into a medium bowl and crush with your hands. Add crushed tomatoes and their liquid to skillet along with ½ cup water and chickpeas, reduce heat to medium, and simmer, stirring occasionally, until thickened slightly, about 15 minutes. Season sauce with kosher salt.

Crack eggs into a small bowl one at a time, and add them gently to the sauce so that eggs are evenly distributed across sauce’s surface. Cover skillet and cook until yolks are just set, about 7 minutes. Using a spoon, baste the whites of the eggs with tomato mixture, being careful not to disturb the yolk. Sprinkle shakshuka with feta and parsley and serve with pitas, for dipping.

Thai Chicken Soup

2011-12-19T14:46:00.000-07:00

I am on my first-ever paid winter break. If you are feeling blood rush to your face in a fit of jealousy, take comfort in the fact that I am being punished for my brazen bragging with a terrible head cold. Luckily, I have the time to take care of myself with good food, sleep, and daylong movie marathons. Where I come from, chicken noodle soup is commonly known as “Jewish penicillin.” The garlicky dish is said to have an anti-inflammatory effect. In my case, I may require a course of actual penicillin, but I figure some chicken soup couldn’t hurt me. The congestion has completely muted my sense of taste, so I decided to make it “Thai-style” to make it as flavorful as possible, and hoping that large quantities of ginger, chiles, and hot sauce would also provide some added health benefits.

Disclaimer: I doubt this soup can be considered authentic Thai food. For one thing, I added about a cup of dry Italian white wine to the broth; I don’t think that is a common practice in Thai cooking. I just happened to have it in the fridge, so it went in the pot. I also happen to think fortifying soup with wine adds great flavor, but it is most definitely unauthentic and optional. Nonetheless, I feel slightly justified in calling my soup “Thai” because I included the four tastes that give Thai food its distinctive flavor and balance: spicy (ginger and chiles), salty (fish sauce), sweet (sugar), and sour (fresh lime juice).

To make this soup, I steeped canned chicken broth with garlic cloves, ginger, jalapeno, and fish sauce, while gently poaching chicken breasts in the simmering liquid. You may want to eat around the garlic, etc. in the final product, or you may enjoy gnawing on a bit of ginger or garlic (maybe that’s just me). I was a little disappointed by the spiciness that resulted from this process (or lack thereof), but a healthy dose of Sriracha quickly amended that problem. I then removed the chicken to slice it up, and added carrots and scallions. When the carrots were cooked through, I ladled the broth over rice noodles and chicken, and finished the bowl with limejuice and fresh cilantro.

The soup was spicy enough to get through to my taste buds last night, but the flavor of it was so much more pronounced today. And by pronounced, I mean heat, garlic, and ginger, ginger, ginger, tingling your tongue and throat, and the scent swirling around you. As is usually the case, this soup vastly matured and improved overnight. Today, I ate a huge mug of it without the noodles, and I preferred it noodle-free. I want to make it again so I can taste the subtleties of the fish sauce and scallions, but overall this soup was a satisfying and restorative meal.

Thai Chicken Noodle Soup (very loosely adapted from Jamie Oliver)

6 cups reduced-sodium chicken stock

2 cups water

1 cup white wine (optional, or add an extra cup of water/stock)

5 garlic cloves, peeled

2-3 inch piece of fresh ginger, peeled and chopped into large chunks

1 jalapeno, sliced in half, some ribs and seeds removed

3 tablespoons fish sauce, divided

1 lb. boneless skinless chicken breast

2 carrots, peeled and sliced

4 scallions, chopped

1 teaspoon sugar

½ teaspoon Sriracha chili sauce (optional)

6 oz. rice stick noodles or to taste (this amount will give you generous portions for 4 bowls)

Fresh cilantro leaves

Lime wedges

Soy sauce or extra fish sauce to taste

- In a large soup pot, add the broth, water, and wine (if using). Turn the heat onto medium, and add the garlic cloves, ginger, jalapeno, and 2 tablespoons of fish sauce. Once the mixture is simmering, add the chicken breasts. Continue to simmer, stirring occasionally for 20-25 minutes, until chicken is cooked through.

- Remove the chicken from the pot, and add the carrots, scallions, a tablespoon of fish sauce, sugar, and ½ teaspoon of Sriracha.

- While carrots are cooking, thinly slice the chicken and soak rice noodles in hot water according to package directions.

- When the broth is ready, place a portion of noodles and chicken in a bowl and add broth. Top with a squeeze of lime and fresh cilantro leaves. You may need a spoon and a fork for the noodles. Add extra fish sauce or soy sauce, if desired.

Spinach-Artichoke Dip

2011-12-19T13:24:00.001-07:00

‘Tis the season of holiday parties, and the catch phrase of “bring a dish to share.” I think this is a great concept, as it allows people to get together more often, without putting the financial burden all on one person. Although, I will admit that sometimes it can be inconvenient, and store-bought contributions are sometimes necessary. Hummus seems to go over well. However, I went to a party on Saturday night, and I was determined to bring something a little more personal. In my experience, spinach-artichoke dip seems to be a universal crowd-pleaser. There is a reason that it graces so many American restaurant menus: people love it.

I had recently wolfed down some spinach-artichoke dip at my cousin’s house, and used the recipe she found as a base. Honestly, it was perfect as it was. She found the recipe on All Recipes, and there is a link for its unscathed version below. But for some inexplicable reason, I cannot make a recipe as it is written. I feel uncomfortable and jumpy unless I am altering measurements and adding unlisted ingredients. It’s bizarre and obnoxious, but I am what I am.

Below, you will find my altered recipe, beefed up with extra spinach (oxymoron!) and some additional cheese. My recipe has more bulk to it, while the original is creamier. It’s really simple to make. The most difficult thing is thawing and draining the spinach. I defrost it in the microwave, and than aggressively squeeze water out by the fistful (with clean hands). No one likes soggy dip, and it’s a good way to work out frustrations.

When the dip came out of the oven, it was so hot, that I couldn’t even taste it. There may be some partygoers that are still suffering because of this. Then I became distracted and didn’t eat much of it once it reached a suitable temperature. But, at about 10 pm, a friend took a big bite, looked at me with utter conviction and said, “This. Is. So. Good.” Enough said.

Spinach-Artichoke Dip (adapted from All Recipes)

1 (8 ounce) package cream cheese, softened

¼ cup mayonnaise

¼ cup grated Parmesan cheese

1 cup grated Sharp white cheddar cheese, divided

1 clove garlic, peeled and minced

½ teaspoon onion powder

½ teaspoon dried basil

¼ teaspoon garlic salt

Salt and pepper to taste (I used about ¼ teaspoon salt and 25ish grinds of pepper)

1 (14 ounce) can artichoke hearts, drained and chopped

¾ cup frozen chopped spinach, thawed and drained

- Preheat the oven to 350 (or tell your host to do so; I think anything around this temperature would do).

- Thoroughly mix together all ingredients except ½ cup cheddar, spinach, and artichokes.

- Gently mix in spinach and artichokes, and transfer to a small baking dish. Top with remaining cheese.

- Bake in the oven for about 25 minutes, or until the cheese is melted and the dip is hot and bubbling. (Unfortunately, I did not take a worthy picture of the finished product, but it was delicious!)

Ode to Grilled Cheese

2011-12-10T16:01:00.000-07:00

My mom always says that the egg is nature’s perfect food. I do love eggs, but I think grilled cheese is a close rival. And I dare to say that grilled ham and cheese ranks even higher in my cheese-obsessed brain. Perhaps you are scoffing at my suggestion. Perhaps you are wondering how I could make such a bold statement. Perhaps you are asking, “where is bacon in this ridiculous discussion?”

Theses are valid points and questions, but I will maintain that for a true cheese lover, grilled ham and cheese is better than a grilled cheese with bacon. The ham adds a desirable salty, porky flavor; however, it is not as rich as bacon so you taste the flavor of the cheese more, and the tender texture of ham gives way to the oozy, melty texture of cheese. If you are still appalled, you are probably more of a bacon lover than a cheese lover, in which case, the more power you.

Obviously, cheese wins with me over bacon. And to satisfy and honor my deep-seeded love, I made the most beautiful grilled ham and cheese sandwich earlier this week. It has been so cold here in Colorado, which is an excellent excuse for grilled cheese, not that I need one. (Oddly enough, I am now sitting outside writing this, drenched in so much sunshine that I don’t need a coat.) I used rosemary sourdough bread, which can be found at Whole Foods, and it may actually be the best bread IN THE WORLD. Seriously. It is truly unbelievable: crunchy crust, chewy interior, and loaded with fresh rosemary. It is a work of art, but I digress.

I then layered the bread with a symphony of three cheeses and ham. First, I put down two paper-thin slices of Muenster, followed by one thicker slice of Swiss cheese. I then added two thin (not shaved) slices of lightly smoked ham, folded and lightly bunched where necessary to fit the bread. Last, I added a thick layer of shredded smoked Gouda, which really took the sandwich to a higher level. I just happened to have these cheeses in my fridge. It was a winning combination, but any cheese that melts well is a winner on a grilled cheese sandwich. With a light, even layer of butter on the bread, I cooked the sandwich in a non-stick skillet, low and slow. My friend, Lindsay, from college makes masterful grilled cheese sandwiches and that's how she’s always told me to do it. I would spend half an hour patiently grilling a sandwich that ends with oozing cheese and golden bread, than burn my potentially perfect dinner. I also 'splurged' on a can of Amy's tomato soup. I will admit that it seems insane to spend nearly 4 dollars on a can of soup, but in this situation, you get what you pay for.

Pan-Fried Tilapia

2011-12-04T09:28:00.000-07:00

I’ll be honest: I overcooked my fish. I am advertising my own error because it didn’t matter. My pan-fried tilapia was light, flakey, with a crisp coating, despite spending a little too much time in the frying pan. It is a foolproof recipe, and this is coming from a fool who messed it up.

My mom tends to work really late, but one night last week she got home early enough to make this simple dinner, and I decided to do the same. I am now making a point to use and enjoy my time outside of work, which makes me happier both at work and at home. The key to enjoying your evenings is to actually do something you enjoy. Who knew? Thus, pan-fried tilapia made its way on to my after-work to do list.

Tilapia has many attractive features that make it perfect for a quick, yet luxurious weeknight meal. It cooks quickly; it’s versatile with its mild flavor and flaky texture; it’s inexpensive (I spend about four dollars on the fish and still had leftovers).

The process is not unfamiliar: dip the fish into egg wash, give it a dusting of flour and/or breadcrumbs, and cook it in a thin, even layer of hot oil. My mom was adamant about purchasing “Drake’s Crispy Fry” to dredge the fish in (it was always in our pantry growing up). I made a special trip to King Sooper’s for it in 15-degree weather, and they didn’t have it. In my dismay, exhaustion, and defeat, I bought a package of seasoned flour, although I was sure I would regret it (Kentucky Kernel Seasoned Flour, to be exact).

Why would I buy seasoned flour instead of simply seasoning my own flour? I was prepared to kick myself later, but I couldn’t have been more wrong. It turns out that there is a reason to buy seasoned flour: it is perfectly seasoned! I tasted a little pinch of the flour before cooking, so I could get my self-loathing under way, but instead I was celebrating my awesome decision making skills. It was delicious (courtesy of pepper, mysterious “herbs and spices,” salt, and a small amount of MSG, which everyone knows is the best).

So, with a sense of celebration, I dredged, I fried, I spritzed with lemon and I enjoyed. The fish had a crisp, yet light crust. I served the fish (to myself) with simple pan roasted brussel sprouts, and a baked potato. I felt so wholesome with all of my food groups. Make sure you run your kitchen fan and vent a window while you fry the fish. That way, when you tell your co-workers the next day about your delicious dinner, they will actually be surprised, instead of already being fully aware of what you had for dinner because of the fish odor emanating off you. I had this happen with curry once, and it was not much fun.

Pan-Fried Tilapia

Tilapia fillets, rinsed and patted dry (I made 3 fillets, almost 3/4 of a pound)

½ to 1 cup of seasoned flour (depending on how much fish you are making)

2 eggs

2 tablespoons milk

2-3 tablespoons olive oil (more as needed if you are working in multiple batches)

2-3 tablespoons canola oil (more as needed if you are working in multiple batches)

- Beat together eggs and milk in a wide shallow bowl, and add the seasoned breadcrumbs to another wide shallow bowl.

- Working with one tilapia fillet at a time, dip it first in egg wash, then into the seasoned flow. Coat it evenly with flow and shake of excess. Set aside and repeat with remaining fillets.

- Using a large heavy bottomed skillet, preheat both oils over medium-high to high heat for 2-3 minutes. You can test the heat of the oil by dropping a pinch of flour into the oil. It should sizzle immediately.

- Place the fish fillets in the hot oil (do not crowd them). Cook for 4-5 minutes per side on medium-high to high heat (depending on how hot your stove cooks; you want the fish to brown).

pre-flip

post-flip

- Drain cooked fish on paper towel. Spritz with lemon and enjoy.

Blackened Chicken Pasta

2011-11-22T16:39:00.001-07:00

On the off chance that you don’t have enough decadence planned for your Thanksgiving festivities, I recommend indulging in this delicious Cajun pasta. I actually made this a few weeks ago. Usually, my intrinsic motivation can tolerate about a one-week delay between cooking and writing. I rarely retrieve the necessary motivation to write outside of that timeline, but this pasta defied my usual patterns. I had to share it; it was that good.

Those clowns at the Food Network have come up with yet another enticing gimmick: a show called The Best Thing I Ever Made. A smattering of “Food Network Stars” use their licentious foodie language and provide recipes for delectable items like lamb kebabs, mushroom polenta and… blackened chicken pasta. It’s a Guy Fieri recipe: blacked chicken, tossed with fettuccine and a cream sauce, flavored with white wine, garlic, and sundried tomatoes. Guy Fieri is a goof, but charming in his own dorky way. His pasta is as lush and tasty as you might imagine creamy pasta to be. I added some tomato puree to the sauce for some acidity and color, and I would definitely recommend that addition (included in my version of the recipe below). I used canned tomato sauce (which is really just tomato puree with some spices). The quantities specified below are approximations, but do what looks and tastes right to you.

The best part of this recipe is the spice rub. Not only is it delicious, but it is so much fun to make. I don’t understand why I found its assembly so enjoyable, but I grinned like a fool throughout. The process is simple: measure and dump spices in a bowl, enjoying the aromas and colors along the way. Then chicken breasts are coated with the rub, and placed them in a very hot pan. The smell of the spice rub searing on the chicken is intoxicating. I think the primary culprits contributing to the smell are the cumin and the Italian herb blend, but I’m sure every ingredient plays its part. The spice rub did not render the dish particularly spicy. This may be exactly what you want to hear, or you may want to add an extra teaspoon of cayenne, if the news of the mildness is disappointing. Or, you can do what I did: season the whole pasta dish at the end with hot pepper flakes. Either way, finish it with plenty of Parmesan cheese and enjoy.

Blackening Spice

1 tablespoon granulated garlic

1 tablespoon freshly cracked black pepper

½ tablespoon salt

2 teaspoons ground cumin

2 teaspoons granulated onion

1 teaspoon cayenne pepper

1 teaspoon Italian seasoning

1 teaspoon paprika

½ teaspoon chili powder

Combine the garlic, black pepper, salt cumin, onion, cayenne pepper, Italian seasoning, paprika and chili powder in a small bowl. Store in an airtight container.

Blackened Chicken Pasta (recipe adapted from Guy Fieri)

2 skinless chicken breasts (½ to ¾ pounds)

Blackening Spice Rub

1 tablespoon vegetable or canola oil

1 tablespoon olive oil

1 clove minced garlic

½ cup dry white wine

1 cup heavy cream

1 ½ cups canned tomato sauce

½-¾ cup roughly chopped marinated sun-dried tomatoes

½ pound fettuccine

¾ cup grated Parmesan

Kosher salt and freshly ground black pepper

Hot pepper flakes (optional)

2 tablespoons minced flat leaf parsley

Preheat the oven to 350 degrees F. Bring a large pot of salted water to a boil. Heat a medium skillet and vegetable oil over high heat.

Dredge the chicken breasts in the Blackening Spice Rub. Place in the skillet. Blacken both sides of the chicken, 3-4 minutes per side.

Transfer the chicken to a baking dish and place in the oven until the internal temperature of the chicken reaches 165 degrees F on an instant-read thermometer, about 10-15 minutes.

Remove from the oven, allow to rest, then slice the chicken.

In a large skillet over medium heat, heat the olive oil. Add the garlic and lightly sauté it for 1-2 minutes. Stir in the wine. Allow it to reduce by half. Pour in the heavy cream and tomato sauce, bring to a simmer and cook until for about 5-10 minutes, simmering gently. Add the sun-dried tomatoes and chicken slices.

Meanwhile, cook the fettuccine al dente, according to the package directions. Drain.

When the cream sauce is at the desired consistency, stir in 1/2 cup of the Parmesan, pasta, and about ¾ of the parsley. Season to taste with salt and pepper (and hot pepper flakes, if using).

To serve, toss the pasta with the cream sauce. Garnish with the parsley and the remaining ¼ cup Parmesan.

Pasta With Chicken and Mushrooms, Risotto Style

2011-11-12T16:35:00.000-07:00

When I’m cooking and blogging, I try to maintain a semblance of balance in my choices. Ideally, I would avoid my recipe archives being so heavily laden with tales of cheese and carbohydrates. However, this notion of blog-balance is an art I am yet to master. There are certain ingredients that are undeniably “psycho,” and this post reeks of them. This pasta is flavored with onions, mushrooms, and chicken. It is prepared like risotto: by adding small increments of chicken stock to the simmering pot until the pasta is cooked through. Everything cooks together in chicken stock. Unlike traditional pasta cooking methods, the liquid is never strained. Instead, it is added gradually, so all the flavors in the ingredients are self-contained. If you are not a fan of mushrooms, I would recommend you stop reading here and go make yourself a nice grilled cheese sandwich. The mushrooms are the crux of this dish, and nothing else will do in their place.

The recipe below is courtesy of Mark Bittman and I made minimal changes. (He is smart, although allegedly obnoxious. I have never seen him do anything on TV, and I would like to keep it that way, so I can remain blissfully ignorant of any truth in the obnoxious allegations). To be honest, I was a little trepidatious about the method of cooking the chicken: raw chunks of chicken are added towards the end of the cooking process. I’m sure my mother is gasping in horror at the slightest notion of cross-contamination. However, I followed the method and I have lived to tell the tale with no gastrointestinal distress. Just keep stirring the pasta so that the chicken can cook evenly and thoroughly. Make sure the liquid continues to simmer, and add more stock if you need it. Also, wash your cooking utensil halfway through, and make sure to slice open a few chunks of chicken before eating to check for doneness. You will be just fine.

The recipe below includes the minor changes I made in italics. Next time, I would definitely add peas. This recipe was practically screaming for peas. The earthy flavor and texture of mushrooms would pair just beautifully with the sweet pop of peas. I would recommend taking about a half cup out of the freezer before cooking to thaw, and adding them at the end, stirring to heat through.

Pasta With Chicken and Mushrooms, Risotto Style (adapted from Mark Bittman)

2 tablespoons olive oil, more as needed

1 small onion, chopped

1 tablespoon minced garlic

2 cups crimini, shiitake or button mushrooms, cleaned, trimmed and sliced (I used half button mushrooms and half oyster)

1/2 pound cut pasta, such as gemelli or penne, or long pasta broken into bits (I used rotini, but would have gone for gemelli if I could find it)

Salt and freshly ground black pepper

1/2 cup dry white wine or water (I left this out)

3 to 4 cups chicken or vegetable stock (definitely use chicken stock)

½ to 1 tablespoon Dijon or whole grain mustard (optional. It was an impulsive, but delicious addition)

2 boneless chicken thighs, diced

Chopped fresh parsley

Freshly grated Parmesan

1. Put 2 tablespoons olive oil in a large, deep skillet over medium heat. When hot, add shallot, garlic and mushrooms. Cook, stirring occasionally, until mushrooms soften and begin to brown on edges, about 10 minutes. Add pasta and cook, stirring occasionally, until it is glossy and coated with oil, 2 to 3 minutes. Add a little salt and pepper, then wine. Stir and let liquid bubble away. (Or skip the wine and go right step two)

2. Ladle stock into skillet 1/2 cup or so at a time, stirring after each addition and every minute or so. (I poured stock directly out the box it came in into the pan). When liquid is just about evaporated, add more. Mixture should be neither soupy nor dry. Keep heat at medium and stir frequently.

uncooked chicken (gasp)

cooked chicken (yum)

3. Begin tasting pasta 10 minutes after you add it; you want it to be tender but with a tiny bit of crunch. When pasta is about 3 to 4 minutes away from being done, add chicken and stir to combine. (If you are going to use the mustard, add it before the chicken). Continue to cook until chicken is done — it will be white on inside when cut — and pasta is how you like it. (I cooked the chicken for about 5-7 minutes) Taste, adjust seasoning, garnish with parsley and Parmesan.

Yield: 4 servings.

Simple Mushroom Pasta

2011-11-07T19:49:00.001-07:00

If you read my last post, it may not be surprising that I am in the process of achieving a higher degree of balance in my life. Over the past few months, I have been wobbling. So much of my energy has been expelled outward, away from me, and I am now trying to redirect some of that energy back towards myself. Both my professional and personal life just went through a swift, yet dramatic restructuring, and I am interpreting this is a sign to get back to my roots, and the things that make me tick.

This weekend, I jumpstarted my personal resuscitation by cutting off all my hair and spending time with friends. I then slept for about 14 hours (I guess I needed it). When I emerged from my quasi-coma on Sunday morning, I jumped on my bike, went to a yoga class, read a book in the sunshine, and cleaned my apartment. I spent hours outside, and I hadn't done that in months. It turns out that riding bikes on a cool, fall day might even be more fun than on a summer day. You get to put on your awesome bike gloves, and a hat, and zip around in the breezy sunshine. I highly recommend it.

I also recommend this mushroom pasta. It's a quick and easy dinner that seems like so much more once it's on a plate. It's basically a makeover of jarred marinara sauce; a few fresh ingredients can truly transform store-bought tomato sauce. While it's easy enough to make tomato sauce from scratch, this can be done in less than a half an hour from start to finish. I used Barilla marinara sauce (I love all things Barilla. Their pasta is totally worth the extra money, and the sauce goes on sale a lot).

First, I put a pot of water onto boil, and added 6 (maybe 8?) sliced mushrooms to a tablespoon of olive oil in a really hot pan. I used button mushrooms, plain and simple. Let the mushrooms sit and sizzle for a couple of minutes before stirring. The mushrooms will sear, and they will start to smell like some sort of delicious meat, but earthy. Delicious, I promise. (the quantities in this recipe make 2 good sized bowls of pasta and can easily be adjusted).

Stir occasionally, until the mushrooms reduce in volume and begin to brown.

Push the mushrooms to the side. Add 2 chopped Roma tomatoes, a clove of minced garlic, a big pinch of dried rosemary, hot pepper flakes, ground pepper, and kosher salt (to taste). Also, add linguine (1/4 to a 1/3 of a box) to the boiling water. (If you are not sure on timing, remember it's always better for the sauce to wait for the pasta than the other way around. Sauce can simmer or be turned off, while pasta just gets mushy).

Stir to combine and cook for a few minutes until the tomatoes begin to break down. If the pan is looking very dry, add a tablespoon or so of water from the pasta pot. Not only will it save your mushrooms from burning, but it will make a delightful sizzling sound.

Add about a cup and a half of marinara. Stir to combine.

Allow sauce to simmer while pasta cooks. Enjoy the delicious the garlicky, mushroomy smells.

When the pasta is ready, add it directly to the sauce with tongs. Let some of the pasta cooking water meander into the pan of sauce. Stir to combine, check for seasoning, and put a big portion on a plate.

Add some olive oil, black pepper, and parmesan. (Coloradans, Sunflower has amazing shaved parm at a great price). Enjoy!

Roasted Broccoli

2011-10-30T19:57:00.001-06:00

Oh, hello there, blog. Remember me? I’ve been a little swamped lately with my new job. It’s a lame excuse, but it is sadly a presiding truth in my life. I work in the public schools, and the rumors are true: education is in trouble. I truly love working with my kids, but the politics, the paperwork, and the special ed laws are weighing me down. Sigh.

Now that I’ve had my pity party, I will share you with a little ray of light I discovered today. This morning I realized that maybe I’m feeling weighed down because I have stopped doing a lot of the things that make me happy. Riding my bike, reading, cooking, being outside, blogging, yoga. I haven’t done any of those things in a long time. So today, I pumped some air my tires both literally and figuratively, and got on my bike. It felt amazing, even better than I remembered. And tonight, I roasted some broccoli, and enjoyed every part of the process. And now I am whipping out a blog post, which is perhaps not my most eloquent, but at this point, a shoddy post is better than no post at all.

Now about that broccoli… my aunt told my about roasting broccoli years ago, and it didn’t sound particularly good. Things get brown and crispy in the oven, and “browned” broccoli didn’t appeal to me. It made me think of that withered head of broccoli you see, when there are only a couple crowns left at 7:30 at night. Also broccoli can have such a strong flavor, and I didn’t want to intensify that flavor in the oven. It turns out I couldn’t have been more wrong. The roasted broccoli actually mellowed out in the oven, and was perfectly complimented by my favorite flavors, lemon and garlic. The stalks developed the most delightful texture: tender, but not the least bit mushy. I cut the broccoli into long, thing spears so there was extra stalk. Some of the little green buds became crispy, and it was so flavorful. This recipe was quick, simple, and made my apartment smell like pungent, sweet garlic. Yum. The recipe below doesn’t call for much garlic, but fear not, it still packs plenty of garlic punch.

Roasted Broccoli (based on Ina Garten’s recipe)

Preheat the oven to 425

Chop 1 large crown (or as much as you like) of broccoli in long, thin spears.

Transfer to a large foil lined baking dish. Top with the zest of half a lemon, half a clove of grated garlic, a drizzle of olive oil, a large pinch of salt, and lots of freshly ground pepper.

Toss the mixture together with your hands. Spread out broccoli in an even layer.

Roast in the oven for about 25 minutes.

When the broccoli comes out of the oven, give it a spritz of fresh lemon, and grate some asiago cheese over the top (parmesan would also be good, but asiago is the new parm).

Zucchini Pasta

2011-08-02T14:28:00.002-06:00

This summer, I attempted a little gardening, and I learned that I do not have a green thumb. The truth is… I killed a cactus. I bought the most darling hen and chicks cactus to live on my patio. There were two plants, nestled together in a pitcher. I named the big one Melanie, and the little one Melvin (Mellie and Mel for short). Last week, I discovered that Melanie was all shriveled up and brown. I made a fruitless attempt to save her by removing some of the brown leaves, and she became dislodged from the soil. Below, you can see lonely little Melvin and the sad spot where Melanie used to reside. I also have two leggy basil plants, named Rufus and Alberta, who have had multiple near death experiences due to highly inconsistent (and irresponsible) watering practices.

Luckily, people exist in the world that are able to maintain an actual garden, unlike me, the cactus killer. I am grateful to these people because they give me hope that my gardening skills may turn around one day, and I am especially grateful when capable gardeners share their loot with me. Some garden-fresh zucchini were recently placed in my custody, and they were so delicious. I love zucchini, and to have some home grown ones bestowed upon me was such a treat. They were small and tender, unlike some of those big, seedy ones you sometimes find in the market.

Such perfect specimens deserved a simple preparation that would highlight the zucchini itself. I chose to sauté the zucchini with garlic and olive oil, and toss this concoction with pasta, fresh herbs, and cheese. It was delicious, and it can be prepared in the amount of time it takes to cook the pasta.

While the water came to a boil, I chopped up the zucchini, garlic, and herbs, and once the pasta was in the water, I began sautéing. For one generous portion, I used one zucchini, one clove of garlic, about ¼ of a box of pasta, and a few tablespoons of herbs. I sautéed the zucchini for about 5-7 minutes, so it softened, but it was still crisp in the middle. I also added a few tablespoons of white wine at the end to stop the garlic from getting too brown (and because I happened to have it in the fridge).

When the pasta was done, I put it directly in the pan with the zucchini, and added the chopped herbs. I had the perfect storm of leftover herbs for this dish: basil, parsley, and dill. It was a fresh and delightful combination, but any one of those herbs would have done the trick. And then of course, I added (a lot) of Parmesan cheese, and a little Asiago. These ideas are merely guidelines (I intend to make it again tonight with thyme and basil from my dilapidated herb garden). The method is less important than the fact that the fresh zucchini was such a treat. I could have eaten the zucchini straight from the pan and called it dinner.

Mayonnaise: The Real Deal

2011-07-26T11:23:00.001-06:00

Mayonnaise is a strange food. It is the crux of many delicious recipes, but very few people yearn to crack open a jar of Hellman’s a dig in with a spoon. Traditional mayonnaise is simply an emulsion of egg yolks, oil, and lemon juice, but commercial production sometimes renders into something seemingly more offensive. Few have been spared the visual trauma of a vessel of mayonnaise that has been exposed to open air, out of refrigeration, translucent and gelatinous at the edges. Despite this burdensome image, I truly enjoy mayonnaise on sandwiches, as a base for sauces and dips, and as a binder for various recipes. Some of the most delicious (and unhealthy) foods hinge on mayo: spinach-artichoke dip, blue cheese dressing, the creamy sauce on a spicy tuna roll. I can nearly guarantee that even the most vehement mayonnaise haters have unwittingly enjoyed it on a few occasions.

I actually had to be tricked into it myself. When I was in elementary school, my brother became devoted to making turkey sandwiches one summer. As part of this project, he made it a personal mission to convince me of the merits of mayo in such a context. He handled this issue with exceptional finesse. Catapulting off my deep-rooted love of butter, my brother told me that mayonnaise was “sandwich butter,” like butter but designed especially for sandwiches. As he crafted my lunch, he would spread mayo on challah bread, and present it to me for approval, creating a thin, without the slightest hint of oozing or glopping. Soon, I was regularly devouring his carefully constructed turkey sandwiches adorned with “sandwich butter.”

I never really understood why my brother was so devoted to his cause, until I began sharing meals with someone who expresses a deep disdain for mayonnaise. This person, also known as my co-chef (see “Fish Tacos”) will eat foods with mayonnaise in them, but only when thoroughly disguised. This leaves me irrationally distressed, not only because it limits the food we can share, but also because I want him to experience the joy of a turkey sandwich or a BLT with mayonnaise, or other mayonnaise-enhanced foods (such as a corned beef sandwich with swiss, Russian dressing, and cole slaw).

I have embarked upon my own mission, championing the merits of mayonnaise. Similar to the “sandwich butter method,” I am trying to be gentle and non-threatening. My subject is a willing participant, but the idea of mayonnaise makes his stomach turn. As a first step, I chose to make him something simple with high quality ingredients, and a flavorful homemade mayonnaise. And because I wanted him to truly enjoy what he ate, bacon seemed like an appropriate avenue. Only one food could fulfill such exacting specifications: a BLT sandwich with basil mayonnaise. I even added a little avocado to make it as palatable as possible, with sourdough bread, summer tomatoes, red leaf lettuce, and plenty of bacon (see two examples directly below).

For the mayonnaise, I used extra virgin olive oil and lots of fresh basil to make it minimally offensive and maximally flavorful. I actually think that I overly-softened the blow by making it so flavorful. It was rich and delicious, and it made for great sandwiches. However, it was not a true introduction to mayo. I was trying to be gentle, but I think I played it a little too safe, and my co-chef agreed. In particular, the extra virgin olive oil resulted in quite a strong flavor. For the next installment of our experiment, I intend to omit the basil and use half extra virgin olive oil and half canola or vegetable oil to impart a more bonafide mayo effect. However, if you are looking for something delectable to put on a sandwich, I would include the basil, or any combination of fresh herbs.

(photography courtesy of my co-chef)

Basil Mayonnaise (based on Marc Bittman’s basic mayonnaise recipe)

1 large egg yolk (this would be a good time for really high quality eggs)

1 tsp. Dijon mustard

2 tablespoons freshly squeezed lemon juice

Dash of cayenne pepper

½ teaspoon each of freshly ground pepper and kosher salt

¼ cup of fresh basil, torn (I used a combination of opal basil and regular basil because it was what I had)

½ cup extra virgin olive oil, divided

- Mix together all ingredients besides the oil in the canister that accompanies an immersion blender or a regular blender.

- Add a couple of tablespoons of oil, and then run the motor.

- While the motor is running slowly drizzle in the remaining oil until a creamy, uniform emulsion results.

Fish Tacos

2011-06-29T15:57:00.004-06:00

This post is long over-due, but the timing is perfect for this steamy weather. I cannot take complete credit for this mini-series of recipes that resulted in some very tasty fish tacos, as a co-chef assisted me in their creation. I can, however, take complete credit for my awkward, cheeky prose. This was quite the journey for a couple of co-chefs. And while we both worked hard to soften our culinary opinions in order to collaborate, the composition of the final product was quite simple. In other words, the food was both good and easy.

Deciding to make fish tacos was easy; deciding what to put on them was not. There are so many viable options, and combinations (go to foodgawker and search “fish tacos;” the search results will make your head spin). I will not go into the details of how we made our decision, but do know that this matter was not taken lightly. We settled on the following combination: soft corn tortillas with sautéed white fish fillets, topped with guacamole, red cabbage slaw, and jack cheese. The result was a fresh, light, and satisfying meal, which only required 10-15 minutes of heat from a single burner on the stove. At the time it was thunder storming and 70 degrees, but it is currently 95 degrees outside, and the minimal heat requirements are becoming an increasingly important selling point.

First, my co-chef made guacamole. It was a standard, but well executed guac, with the primary focus on the perfectly ripe avocados. I think the key to this recipe is allowing the onions to sit in a bit of lime juice, which mitigated their raw, acrid flavor. I tried to stay out of his way during its construction because, not surprisingly, I can be a little bossy in the kitchen. However, I have gleaned the following information:

Guacamole

1 Roma tomato, diced

2 tablespoons minced red onion

Juice from ½ lime

2 ripe avocados, seed removed and flesh scooped out into a large bowl

1 teaspoon of mayonnaise

Kosher salt and freshly ground pepper, to taste

- Squeeze the lime juice over the minced onion while preparing your remaining ingredients.

- Add all ingredients in a large bowl and gently mix together. Taste for seasoning.

- Cover the guacamole with plastic wrap directly on the surface to prevent browning, and chill until you are ready to serve.

Next, I made the red cabbage slaw. I have never worked with a whole head of cabbage before, and it was surprisingly easy. First I removed a few of the outer leaves. Then, while my co-chef watched nervously, I used a big knife to cut it in half, then quarters. I removed the core by cutting into the cabbage on an angle, and then (carefully) made thin slices with a knife. This was not a complex process, and so much more delicious than the pre-shredded bags (although those are not terrible if you’re in a time crunch). The cabbage and some shredded carrots were dressed in a simple lime-based vinaigrette, formulated from the following recipe: http://une-deuxsenses.blogspot.com/2011/02/crispy-black-bean-tacos-with-feta.html. Over all, this slaw was a little smoky and a little spicy, and had a refreshing and satisfying crunch. As a testament to how good it was, I ate the leftovers the next day directly out of the bowl they had been stored in, and then proceeded to make another batch with the lingering cabbage.

Red Cabbage Slaw

½ red cabbage, sliced

1 carrot, grated

2 scallions, finely chopped

¼ jalapeno, seeds and ribs removed, and minced (this can be replaced with a good squirt of sriracha in the dressing)

2 tbs. lime juice

2 tbs. olive oil

1 heaping tsp. mayonnaise

¼-½ teaspoon cumin (I used the latter amount the second time I made it, and it was great)

½ teaspoon honey

Salt and pepper, to taste (about ¼ teaspoon each)

- In a bowl, combine lime juice, salt, pepper, cumin, honey, and mayonnaise. Whisk together until thoroughly combined.

- Slowly whisk in olive oil. Taste dressing and adjust seasonings.

- In a large bowl, toss the dressing with remaining ingredients.

I then prepared a plate of condiments (shredded jack cheese, cilantro leaves, and adorable little lime wedges), and my co-chef cooked the fish. For this, I have to adorn him with enormous culinary praise. It was perfectly cooked, and perfectly seasoned. We used basa, which is a firm white fish, similar to tilapia. I cannot go into too much detail because he deliberately shielded me from the kitchen during his cooking process (a difficult task in a studio apartment). This was not out of secrecy, but because I am a terrible “backseat cook.” He claims to have done the following (but he is a lawyer, and probably can’t be trusted):

Sautéed Basa Fillets

- Preheat a large non-stick skillet over medium high heat with a thin, even coating of olive oil.

- Season 1 lb. of basa fillets with a spritz of lime juice and a light sprinkling of cayenne, Lawry’s seasoned salt, chili powder, cumin, and salt/pepper. (Skip the cayenne if you’re not into spicy; go very light with it even if you are into spicy.)

- Sprinkle lightly with a couple of teaspoons of flour. (Mr. Co-Chef says he wouldn’t do this again, but I liked it.)

- Cut the fillets in half and sauté until the fish is opaque and firm (a couple of minutes on each side).

- Assemble tacos and enjoy!

We used small white corn tortillas, heated briefly in the microwave. If the word “microwave” makes you cringe, you could use the oven or the stove. This meal was so delicious: crunchy, creamy, spicy, tart, and fresh. You will find ample visual evidence that supports these claims. You are even allowed the pleasure of seeing my overly-freckled face take a perfect bite of “mini-taco” (i.e. a bite of all the ingredients besides a tortilla for those who are too full to eat another taco, but can’t stop eating).

Minestone

2011-05-25T21:14:00.001-06:00

I handle periods of transition with the finesse of a baby tolerating a dirty diaper. Under the best circumstances, I squirm and make faces to reflect my discomfort. I may whine a little bit. Depending on the severity of the situation, I feel compelled to burst into tears. One would hope that my tolerance for change would increase with experience; this does not seem to be the case. Under my critical observation, my improvements seem to be occurring at a rate that does not allow for functional changes.

Currently, I am transitioning from the role of “life-long-student,” into the vastly unstructured environment of unemployment. There are some advantages to this situation: free time, free time, free time. There is also the dingy hope of an interview or better yet (gasp!) an actual job offer. There are also some co-occurring problems: the highly pronounced anxiety that barges in when you don’t get the interview/job offer. My coping strategy with these issues tends to involve falling back on comfortable, old routines, like cooking. Alas, yet another soup recipe was born.

Minestrone is a time-honored tradition in my family, although I sort of took it in my own direction. When I was little, I sort of dreaded it because of the presence of zucchini. I would avoid the zucchini, and eat everything else I could, until my mom inevitably required that I finish it. With a trembling hand, I would lift each spoonful of cold, neglected zucchini, and chew as quickly as possible to prevent gagging.

My “adult” palette has revised its opinion of zucchini, and I stand behind a firm recommendation of this soup. This is a fairly traditional recipe, except that I included a good portion of tomato paste to give the broth a deep color and flavor. I also cooked the pasta separately to prevent it from turning to mush, but this is matter of personal preference. Overall, the soup was warm and comforting. It had a round well-developed flavor from the garlic, herbs, and tomato paste. Plus, it goes nicely with my favorite condiment: freshly grated Parmesan cheese. I recommend the following progression: cook the soup; drink a beer, eat a of soup bowl; drink another beer while eating another bowl; be happy. But it’s just a suggestion (and please excuse the blurry photos).

Minestrone

2 tablespoons olive oil

2 tablespoons butter

4 cloves garlic, minced

1 medium onion, diced

¼ teaspoon hot pepper flakes

Kosher salt and freshly ground pepper

3 celery stalks, diced

3 carrots, diced

3 tablespoons tomato paste

1 teaspoon dried basil

½ teaspoon dried oregano

1 tablespoon dried parsley

1 medium red skin potato, diced

6 cups reduced sodium chicken stock

28 oz can diced tomatoes

1 can chick peas, drained and rinsed

2 small zucchinis, diced

Small cut pasta (cook separately)

Parmesan cheese for garnish

- Preheat a soup pot over medium heat. Add the olive oil and butter.

- Once the butter melts, add onion, celery, carrot, and garlic. Season with hot pepper flakes, salt, and pepper. Sauté for 10 minutes, stirring frequently, until vegetables become soft and translucent.

- Add the tomato paste, stirring frequently for two minutes, until very fragrant.

- Add canned tomatoes, broth, chickpeas, potatoes, and remaining seasonings.

- Bring to a boil. Reduce to a simmer, and cook for 30 minutes.

- Taste and adjust seasonings. Add zucchini and cook for ten more minutes.

- Place cooked pasta in soup bowls and add soup. Garnish with parmesan.

Pot Roast

2011-03-30T21:13:00.001-06:00

I have never made or eaten a pot roast in my life. Until Sunday. Most cultures have some sort of dish that involves a cheap, tough cut of meat cooked over a low heat for a long period of time. For example, Jews have brisket. This may be done differently in every Jewish family and deli, but over all, we do brisket. Pot roast was a slightly foreign subject to me, although it turns out, it’s similar in preparation: Brown it, cook it in liquid with aromatic vegetables, and cook it for a long period of time.

Last weekend, my friend Jacky told me she had recently made a pot roast, and I had to make it. I was immediately enchanted. I was also enchanted by what she reported for her chosen side dish: mashed potatoes. I will take any excuse to make mashed potatoes, including pot roast. The truth is that soon it will be warm, and soon my apartment will be very warm. I am desperately clinging to my waning opportunities to make comfort foods, and pot roast/mashed potatoes fits perfectly into that category.

It turns out that pot roast is truly delightful. I think that searing the meat is key. (For the record, I used a chuck roast based on the recommendation of a charming butcher at Whole Foods.) I digress: make sure to give that roast a deep, dark, brown crust. It’s worth the time, and it’s worth the discipline to leave that roast untouched as each side sizzles in the pan. As for the pan, I used my soup pot, and braised my pot “roast” on the stove. Many recipes call for a low oven, but my oven is the bane of my existence. The only other advice you need is to season that brick of meat liberally, slice your vegetables thick, and don’t skimp on the butter in your mashed potatoes. This is a perfect Sunday night dinner: tender meat and vegetables, savory broth, an apartment that smells intoxicating, and unavoidably jealous neighbors.

Pot Roast

2 tablespoons olive oil

3-4 lb. chuck roast

5 carrots, sliced

5 celery stalks sliced

¼ pound button mushrooms, quartered

1 onion, quartered

4 cloves garlic, sliced

2 sprigs fresh rosemary

6 springs fresh thyme

2 bay leaves

3 cups liquid (I used a combination of 1 cup red wine, 1 ½ cups chicken stock, ½ cup water – all in all, pretty flexible)

Kosher salt, pepper, Lawry’s seasoned salt, garlic salt

- Season roast liberally

- In a large stock pot with tight fitting lid, preheat olive oil over medium high heat

- Sear roast on all sides until browned (this should take about 5 minutes per side. Leave it alone and let it brown. Set a timer if necessary to keep your hands off of it)

- Add liquid and scatter vegetables and herbs around the roast (some vegetables will not be submerged)

- Cover and reduce heat to low so liquid simmers

- Braise for 3 hours, basting every 30 minutes, until meat begins to fall apart (the braising liquid should be bubbling, but not boiling)

- Serve meat and vegetables over mashed potatoes (watch out for bay leaves and the stems of rosemary and thyme)

Stracciatella

2011-03-16T21:18:00.002-06:00

I actually do cook food other than soups, but somehow soup seems to be the only thing I am motivated to write about. Soon, it will be too swelteringly hot in my apartment to make soup, so please bear with me. Alas, I present you with one more soup recipe: straciatella. The recipe is the result of highly impromptu cooking. Straciatella is a combination of chicken noodle and egg drop soup with an Italian flair. I have been thinking about making it for a bit. When it crossed my mind again this morning, I realized I had almost all of the ingredients already, including these darling, teeny, tiny star shaped noodles. I bought them over two months ago, and I have been stewing over the perfect recipe to utilize them in. Every time I open my kitchen cabinet and lay eyes on them, I find myself sighing dreamily. They are just that cute. Straciatella was the perfect excuse to eat them by the heaping spoonful.

In brief, my straciatella is a broth-based soup with the aforementioned noodles. Before serving, an egg beaten with parmesan cheese is streamed into the soup, creating tender cheesy, eggy strands thoughout the hot broth. I added carrots to the soup to flavor to the canned broth, and to prevent monotonous texture. I seasoned it with cayenne, dried parsley, and black pepper. Yum.

Stracciatella:

- Bring 5 cups reduced sodium chicken broth to a simmer, and add 2 diced carrots and 2 whole cloves of garlic. Season broth with a healthy dash of cayenne pepper, freshly ground pepper, and a tablespoon of dried parsley.
- Allow carrots to simmer for 10 minutes, or until they start to become tender. Add a half cup stelline (star-shaped) pasta. Allow soup to simmer until the pasta is tender.
- In the meantime, beat together one egg and 1/4 cup grated parmesan cheese. Season with black pepper.
- When pasta and carrots are tender, reduce the heat until the soup is at a bare simmer. Stir in egg mixture slowly so that strands of egg form. Remove garlic cloves. Garnish soup with extra parmesan and pepper, and enjoy.

Chicken Chili

2011-02-20T12:56:00.002-07:00

Sometimes I can’t quite get this blog together. I do the cooking, I take the pictures, I write up the recipe, but then sometimes the words simply don’t flow. Or the words do flow, but rather than flowing like a delicate creek, they flow like muddy water, bursting out of a sewer drain.

I’m not sure where this blog post falls in that spectrum; however, I can tell you that the recipe was rather tasty. This chili is definitely not the most beautiful food to come out of my tiny kitchen, but it certainly went down easy. I have been pondering the concept of chicken chili for a while. There are so many options: white chicken chili, green chicken chili, chicken chili with beans, tomatoes, etc. It was a tough decision. I knew I wanted a chili with some body to it; I personally don’t like chili that has lots heft in terms of the ingredients, but it all swims around in a thin, non-descript liquid. I also knew that I wanted chunks of identifiable chicken breast, rather than mysterious ground poultry.

Additionally, I decided against white chicken chili in favor of something with more vegetables so that the chili could more or less be a complete meal. Green chili was tempting, but I ultimately could not deal with shucking all the necessary tomatillos, nor did I want the responsibility of finding respectable tomatillos. Nothing is more disappointing than having your heart set on a particular ingredient and all you can find at the market turns browned, bruised and undesirable. I felt this was a realistic concern with tomatillos, and therefore eliminated them from my list of potential ingredients.

Essentially, I organized chili attributes according to what I did and did not want, and my hearty chicken chili grew from there. It turned out to be loaded with green peppers, spiced with jalapeno, sweetened with tomatoes and corn, thickened with a touch of flour, and made hearty with chunks of chicken and white beans.

Sounds good, doesn’t it? Well, it was. To avoid the wateriness I was previously griping about, I lightly dusted chopped chicken breasts with flour before sautéing it in olive oil. At this point, don’t worry about the chicken sticking a bit to the pan or being completely cooked through. Plenty of liquid will be added later that will pick up those browned bits. It’s more important to let the chicken brown and form a bit of a crust. Once the chicken has browned, aromatic vegetables were added along with a jalapeno and dried spices. The medley was then simmered with some chicken stock, canned tomatoes, beans, and sweet corn kernels. After bubbling for a bit, it was topped off with some shredded cheese. What could be bad? I think the key to this dish was that little bit of flour. You would never know it was there, but this chili had very pleasing texture. A generous amount of shredded Monterey jack doesn’t hurt the chili, either.

A note on chopping jalapenos: be careful and wash your hands. Once, I put in my contacts after chopping a jalapeno. My family can confirm I actually shrieked from the pain. So, be sure the wash your hands carefully and/or wear gloves. The heat from fresh peppers is a little uneven, and I found that it mellowed out in this recipe after the chili sat for a day or two. If you are concerned about the chili being too spicy, you can remove all or part of the seeds and ribs to reduce the heat.

Chicken Chili

1 ½ pounds boneless, skinless chicken breast

2-3 tablespoons of flour

2 tablespoons olive oil

Salt, pepper

1 onion, chopped

2 green peppers, chopped

4 cloves garlic, minced

1 jalapeno, minced (remove all or part of seeds/ribs to reduce heat)

1 tablespoon chili powder

1 tablespoon ground cumin

½ teaspoon dried oregano

½ teaspoon dried basil

Garlic salt, Lawry's seasoned salt to taste

1-14 oz. can petite diced tomatoes

1-14 oz. can small white beans, drained and rinsed

1 cup frozen corn kernels (no need to thaw)

2-3 cups chicken stock

Accompaniments: Shredded jack cheese, hot sauce

- Chop chicken breast and toss with 2 tablespoons of flour.

- Add to soup pot, preheated over medium heat with 2 tablespoons of olive oil.

- Season the chicken generously with salt and pepper.

- Brown for 5-10 minutes

- Add chopped onion, bell peppers, garlic, and jalapeno.

- Add cumin, chili powder, oregano, salt, pepper, and other seasonings (like Lawry’s seasoning salt, my favorite) if desired.

- Stir occasionally, and cook for 5-10 minutes.

- Add diced tomatoes, beans, frozen corn, chicken stock*. Simmer for 30 minutes, stirring occasionally

- Top with desired garnishes.

*Start with 2 cups of stock, adding more if your chili looks too thick. You can always add more when reheating, as well.

Snow Day Part 2

2011-02-05T02:43:00.002-07:00

Sometimes, Wednesday morning can feel like Sunday morning. I’m sure you’re scratching your head, wondering: how is this impossible feat accomplished? I will tell you. It’s due to a rare and wonderful circumstance: the second of two snow days consecutive snow days due to sub zero wind chills! Doesn’t it sound wonderful? Let me tell you, it is. I had a weekend in the middle of my week, and I enjoyed every minute of it.

When I woke up on this “Sunday” morning, I felt that I needed to prepare some sort of luxurious breakfast, as opposed to my usual English muffin and hard-boiled egg in a hurry. The day before, I had purchased some mushrooms. I was shopping for my roasted chicken dinner (see previous post), but I added the mushrooms to my cart so I could make a mushroom omelet the following morning, based on the unlikely chance that school would be cancelled again. I was concerned that my presumptuousness about a second snow day would certainly jinx this possibility, but I was wrong. And in this type of circumstance, I love being wrong.

When I woke up that morning, I decided against an omelet for my leisurely breakfast, and started toying with the idea of a breakfast sandwich. Vegetarians frequently praise mushrooms as a meat substitute because of their hearty texture and flavor. I would say there is a distinct possibility that the first veggie burger was actually a grilled portobello mushroom cap on buns. In light of this, I thought it might work out well to add sautéed mushrooms to a breakfast sandwich with some cheese and an egg. This is exactly what I did, and I was pleased by the results: meaty, savory, and satisfying.

First, I sliced up about 5 button mushrooms, and added them to a hot pan with some olive oil. I know the pictured pan looks a little big for that amount of mushrooms, but they brown much better if they have a little breathing room. Plus, the bigger pan will allow you to cook your egg in the same pan, and cut back on dirty dishes. Also, refrain from salting mushrooms until they have browned. Salt draws out water, so if mushrooms are salted in the beginning, it will bring out extra water, and it will take the mushrooms longer to brown. (Conversely, it always good to salt onions immediately when you just want to cook them, but not brown them, for the same reason. When you’re making a soup or sauce, you just want them softened, and salting them immediately will bring out their liquid and prevent them from browning). When the mushrooms were done, I added a little fresh dill along with the salt and pepper. The dill is completely optional; I just happened to have it in the fridge, but it could be left out of substituted with another herb.

Then, I pushed the mushrooms to one side of the pan, added a touch more olive oil and one egg to the pan. I made my egg over medium (maybe even over medium-well). For breakfast sandwiches, I don’t like the yoke to be too runny because I want to be able to pick it up and not mess about with a fork and knife. However, of course cook your egg in whatever way you see fit.

While the egg was cooking, I toasted one big piece of sour dough, and put a slice of cheese on it while it was still hot. I used Swiss cheese, but any cheese would do. I then topped the cheese with the shrooms, then the egg, and last one more slice of cheese, and sprinkled the whole concoction with a little more dill and pepper. Maybe it sounds like sort of an odd combination, but I thought it was one great big yum, and would encourage anyone with time and mushrooms on their hands to pursue this as a delicious breakfast option.

Snow Day

2011-02-02T11:58:00.001-07:00

Although my student status technically remains, as I am not yet gainfully employed or anything normal like that, I no longer function as a student in the classic sense of going to class, writing papers, and taking tests. No, no, I am now done with that. Now I am essentially “playing house” as a speech pathologist, tagging along with a real speech path in a public school, working with students, dabbling in the paper work, and trying to soak up every last bit of knowledge I can before I am expected to fend for myself (and get a pay check). Unfortunately, I am essentially paying tuition to work 40 hours a week, but there are some bonuses that come with it. Like free time at night and on the weekends. That is huge. And even better: snow days!

On Monday afternoon, I received the information that school was cancelled for Tuesday. Imagine my elation of having a surprise mid-week mini break, when the bona fide weekend had ended not even 24 hours earlier. School was cancelled due to extreme cold temperatures, basically because children can’t be expected to wait for the bus with a wind chill of 35 below zero. Some criticize this decision, but I have no complaints. I prefer children to be safe (and time off).

That evening, I went out for a drink to celebrate, but I immediately started plotting and scheming the perfect menu for frigid temperatures. It had to involve the oven blaring at high temperatures for a few hours. My apartment is poorly insulated, and thus quite cold (I am currently wearing wool socks, two pairs of pants, 2 shirts, and a scarf). Not surprisingly, my ancient oven is also poorly insulated, and it not only cooks food, but it belches heat out into the apartment. It’s great for winter, not so great for summer, but summer is not of great concern right now.

Alas, I decided to make lemon-dill roasted drumsticks, which I find so comforting. My love of chicken on the bone runs so deep that it is slightly disturbing. In hindsight, brisket would have been a good choice since it takes at least 4 hours in the oven, not including preheating time, but I spent too much time out of the house to pull it off. So, after fighting through the wind and cold to Whole Foods to get my chicken (8 drumsticks), I whipped up a marinade, consisting of loads of fresh lemon zest and juice (2 lemons to be exact), about 3 tablespoons of finely chopped fresh dill, 2 tablespoons Dijon mustard, a heaping teaspoon of honey, about 3 tablespoons of olive oil, a generous shake of Lawry’s seasoned salt, and freshly ground fresh pepper. I whisked the ingredients together, and put the mixture and the chicken into a large Ziploc bag to marinate for an hour or so. (See picture below, and try not to be too grossed out by the raw chicken).

In the meantime, the oven was preheating, and heating my apartment, set to about 400 degrees (375 would probably do on a functional oven). After they marinated, the drumsticks went into a foil-lined pan with an extra dusting of Lawry’s and pepper, and into the oven for about 45-50 minutes. I like to rotate the pan occasional for even cooking.

While the chicken became browned and blistered in the oven, I proceeded to make one of the coziest side dishes known to man: risotto-style orzo pasta. It consists of orzo, delicate, rice-shaped pasta, cooked slowly in chicken stock so that it releases its starches to make the end product creamy and luxurious. The chicken stock makes it so flavorful, and onions sautéed in butter at the start of the dish don’t hurt the flavor factor either.

First, sauté a half of an onion, diced, in 2 tablespoons of butter over medium heat for about 10 minutes, until the onion is soft, but not browned. Season the onions liberally with salt and pepper at the start of cooking, and stir frequently.

Then add 1 cup uncooked orzo pasta, stirring for about one minute until it is evenly coated with the butter, and starting to toast a bit.

Then add two cups of chicken stock (I buy one 14 oz. can of stock and make up the difference with water). Bring the mixture to a low simmer, then cover, and allow it to cook for 20-25 minutes, stirring occasionally. You can always add more water if it starts to look dry or too thick (just a tablespoon or two at a time). When it’s done, douse it with freshly grated Parmesan (about ½ cup) and ¼ cup of chopped flat leaf parsley. Frozen peas are also a nice touch, especially if you don’t have parsley on hand, but it definitely needs something green at the end.

I served my chicken and orzo with a simple baby arugula salad, drizzled with extra virgin olive oil, a spritz of fresh lemon juice, parmesan cheese, and just because I had it on hand, some fresh dill. And as if this meal wasn’t delicious enough, I received some news as I was about to start cooking that made it taste even better: I had another snow day the following day! Please curb your jealousy. You can simply make this delicious meal, and live vicariously through me.

Tortilla Soup

2011-01-17T15:12:00.001-07:00

My friend, Molly, inspired this simple, lovely recipe. She is a great cook, and I was lucky enough to eat her tortilla soup recently. I know I just posted a soup recipe, but January is National Soup Month, and I’ve wanted to make this recipe for a while. I’m not sure who exactly the qualified authority figure is that delegates these food holidays, but I think it’s a good excuse to inundate my blog with soup recipes. Plus, avocados make a perfect garnish for tortilla soup, and they just happened to be on an irresistible sale.

My tortilla soup is very similar to Molly’s soup, the source of its inspiration. It is made with canned chicken stock, flavored with cumin, onion, bell pepper, and tomatoes. The soup does not have any meat in it. Instead, heartiness is added by the creamy texture of black beans and the sweet pop of corn kernels. Unlike Molly’s recipe, my soup is thickened with white corn tortillas during the cooking process, while she served it with tortilla chips. Although my method isn’t seen in most recipes, it’s fairly traditional. The tortillas practically dissolve into the soup, adding body and flavor to the soup. Once the tortillas hit the hot soup, you can immediately smell the difference, as the corn tortillas heat through and distribute through the pot. After cooking, some small pieces of tortilla remain, but most disappear into the soup and simply thicken and flavor the soup.

Not only is the soup delicious, but its preparation is very easy. It only requires some sautéing of vegetables followed by dumping of various ingredients to the pot. It was a stress-free and relaxing meal to make. The flavor base is onion, bell pepper, and garlic (I wanted to add a jalapeno, but forgot it in my grocery basket). After sautéing the vegetables, the majority of the remaining ingredients are essentially dropped into the pot, and the whole thing simmers for a half hour. This gives you plenty of time to clean up, and prepare the toppings.

The best part of the soup may actually be the toppings. Molly served it with a bevy of toppings: tortilla chips, fresh cilantro, cheese, avocado, and onion. She even had chopped tomatillos, fresh from her father’s garden. My toppings were not quite as plentiful, but I followed the same basic idea. I used fresh cilantro, diced avocado, and cubes of salty feta cheese. Queso fresco is traditional, but Molly used feta, so I followed her example. Plus, I love any excuse to eat feta cheese. This was such an easy and delicious recipe, where the whole somehow exceeds the sum of its parts. Sometimes, I enjoy cooking dishes that require lots of chopping and preparation, but this making this soup was a relaxing process that made for a hearty and delicious meal on a snowy Sunday night (during National Soup Month, no less).

Tortilla Soup (serves 4-6)

2 tablespoons olive oil

1 onion, chopped

4 cloves garlic, minced

1 green pepper, chopped

Salt, pepper, garlic salt, seasoning salt, to taste

3-14 oz. cans reduced sodium chicken stock

1-14 oz. can diced tomatoes

2 teaspoons cumin

1 teaspoon hot pepper flakes (or to taste)

1 teaspoon chili powder

1 cup frozen corn kernels (no need to thaw)

1 can black beans, drained and rinsed

4 corn tortillas, cut in strips

2-3 tablespoons chopped cilantro.

Possible garnishes: avocado, cheese, sour cream, fresh cilantro, lime wedges

- In a large soup pot, preheat the olive oil over medium heat. Add onion, bell pepper, and garlic to pan. Season to taste with salt and pepper (I used about a half teaspoon of each), and sauté for 10 minutes, or until vegetables are soft.

- Add chicken stock, tomatoes, corn, cilantro, cumin, hot pepper flakes, and chili powder. Increase heat and bring liquid to a boil. When boiling, reduce heat so that the soup simmers.

- Add tortillas and black beans. Cook for 20-25 minutes, stirring occasionally, until soup starts to thicken and tortillas break down.

- Taste for seasonings and adjust as needed.

- Serve soup and garnish as desired.

Matzo Ball Soup

2011-01-06T22:00:00.004-07:00

New Year’s Eve, 2010: the close of a remarkable year. When I say “remarkable,” I mean it in the truest sense of the word, meaning striking, noteworthy, and worthy of attention. I have been blissfully happy, stressed, inspired, disenchanted, and utterly devastated. I have been to a wedding, and a funeral. And it has now come to a close. I have been accused of being a contrarian before, and while I am not certain that this shoe fits me in general, it definitely fits when it comes to New Year’s Eve. To me, New Year's Eve is a recipe for disappointment: over-crowded bars with over-priced drinks. Because it marks the passing of years, it necessitates some sort of self-reflection, for which crowds of strangers are not conducive. So, what do these negative opinions make me? A party pooper. And no better way to embrace my true party pooper self than to stay in on New Year’s Eve, and do some cooking to tend my wounds.

New Year’s Eve cooking provides the opportunity for leisurely, slow-simmering recipes. I chose soul-soothing matzo ball soup, and indulged in all possible steps to make it as flavorful as possible, drawing out the process simply because I had the time to. Honestly, what else is a party pooper going to do on New Year’s Eve when it is 10 degrees outside?

The first thing I did was prepare the tender little matzo balls. If you’ve never had a matzo ball, it is sort of like a bland meatball made entirely with cracker meal. I suppose it may be called a Jewish dumpling, comprised of matzo meal and a little oil, bound together with eggs. They are tender, bland, and comforting. Matzo balls are simmered in salted water, which results in random salty bites. The whole process takes about 45 minutes, and it is largely unattended. The easiest thing you can do is to go the kosher isle of the grocery store and pick up a box of matzo ball mix, then follow the instructions exactly. It’s pretty simple. Most importantly, do not, under any circumstances, lift the lid off the matzo balls as they simmer. This will make them tough. This advice has been passed down from my late grandmother, and must be heeded. My grandma was not exactly known for her culinary prowess; she had a habit of mixing any and all lingering beverages in the fridge into one cesspool of leftover liquids (juices, soda, anything). However, the woman knew her matzo balls.

Essentially, you mix one packet of matzo meal with 2 lightly beaten eggs and 2 tablespoons of vegetable oil. Let this sit in the refrigerator for 15 minutes, and then roll the mixture into 1 inch diameter spheres. Next, drop the them into boiling, salted water, and put a lid on the pot. Reduce the heat to a simmer, and leave the pot alone for 20 minutes. Anyway, if you follow these instructions or the one on the box, you should have matzo balls that look something like the picture above. They will be tender and fluffy, yet substantial. They are sort of like lumps of bread that can stand up to soup. Furthermore, matzo balls can be made in advance and await your spoon in the fridge. I made mine in the morning, but I don’t see why they couldn’t be made a day in advance.

Next, I proceeded in making a delicious broth. I did not make it from scratch, and instead fortified canned chicken stock with aromatic vegetables and herbs. I used carrots (3 cut in thirds), celery (3 stalks cut in thirds), 1 onion (peeled and halved), 6 whole garlic cloves (peeled), fresh dill sprigs, and lots of black pepper. All of these lovely vegetables took a leisurely bath in 4 cans worth of simmering chicken stock (with one cup water added). This step of simmering vegetables is not necessary, but it adds richness to the stock, makes your apartment smell amazing, and it’s fun (at least that is my personal belief). Simply add the aforementioned vegetables in large chunks and let the broth simmer away for an hour or so. Cover the soup during this process, but vent the lid, and stir the broth occasionally. When the vegetables are very tender, and they have relinquished their fresh flavor, remove them with a slotted spoon. You can discard them, or enjoy them as a snack. I always leave the garlic cloves in soup because I love them. If you've never had slow-cooked garlic cloves, they may surprise you. After all of that cooking, they become incredibly soft and lose their pungency.

If you skip the previously discussed stock fortifying step, do not fear. You will still have delicious soup. Use the same amount of broth and add 4-5 thinly sliced carrots and 3 thinly sliced stalks of celery. Pepper, dill (fresh or dried), or dried parsley are all nice additions. In fact, treat your soup in this manner whether you have skipped the step above or not. According to Marc Bittman, traditional matzo ball soup is served only with carrots, but celery was always in the mix at my family dinner. Once you add the sliced carrots and celery, simmer for about thirty minutes to an hour so that the fresh vegetables may cook to your texture specifications. Allow the soup to cook uncovered at this point so that the broth will reduce, and deepen in flavor.

When you are ready to eat, add the matzo balls to the soup (they warm quickly, and I do it per each bowl). Perhaps sprinkle some fresh dill on top. With this soup, you now are ready to soothe your soul, even if it’s only a temporary measure. That is, until you go back for seconds.

Cream of Mushroom Soup

2010-10-14T20:52:00.002-06:00

I suppose there will be an ebb and flow of emotions with anything you love, and I have been experiencing low tide regarding both my creativity and enthusiasm for cooking. Unfortunately, my stove has been as barren as my blog; however, I am hoping that dropping temperatures and decreasing daylight will reignite my interest, as my favorite comfort foods become increasingly appropriate (there should be something positive to glean out from these first glimpses of winter).

Soup is a universally loved cold-weather comfort food, and this soup is a mushroomy masterpiece. If this mushroom soup had a motto, it would be “go big or go home.” It has two pounds of fresh mushrooms, plus dried porcinis, which are added to sautéed onions and garlic. This may sound a bit excessive, and when you first add them to the pot, you may think you have done something seriously wrong, as your aromatics become overwrought by sliced shrooms. Do not fear: mushrooms contain a lot of liquid, and they will shrink significantly as they sauté. They will also lead to unparalleled mushroom flavor, accented by fresh rosemary. The original recipe called for both fresh sage and fresh rosemary. In an effort to streamline and save myself a couple of bucks, I chose to add rosemary alone. After all, mushrooms and rosemary play so nicely together that I figured the single herb should suffice. The meaty savoriness of mushrooms stands up assertively to rosemary’s piney, earthy warmth. Essentially, the onion, garlic, rosemary, and mushrooms are simmered together with some stock, and finished with heavy cream. It’s just half a cup, so don’t do something lame, like replace it with skim milk. Before I added the cream, I snuck a little sample of soup, and it was so meaty and savory that I questioned adding it for about a millisecond. But I forged on, heavy cream in hand, and the difference it made was completely invaluable. There is something about saturated fat that simply brings out the best in things. As with most cream of mushroom soups, this one is inevitably blended, but please do so with caution, and leave some chunks of mushrooms. After all of that time cleaning and slicing, it would be a crime to pulverize them.

Cream of Mushroom Soup (adapted from Smitten Kitchen)

3 tablespoons olive oil

1 large onion, chopped

3 garlic cloves, minced

2 sprigs fresh rosemary

Kosher salt

Fresh ground pepper

½ oz. dried porcini mushrooms

1 cup very warm water

1 lb. white button mushrooms, sliced

1 lb. cremini mushrooms, sliced

2-14 oz. cans reduced sodium chicken broth

1-14 oz. can beef broth

½ cup heavy cream

- Steep dried mushrooms in 8 ounces of very warm water for 20-30 minutes. When mushrooms are plump, lift them from the water (leaving as much grit behind as possible), and coarsely chop them. Strain soaking liquid through a coffee filter to remove grit (I actually lined a fine mesh sieve with a paper towel, and that worked fine, and so far I’m still alive). Set aside mushrooms and soaking liquid.

- In a large soup pot, head olive oil over medium heat. Add chopped onions, garlic, rosemary sprigs, 1 teaspoon of salt, and lots of pepper.

- Sauté for 10 minutes, or until soft and translucent, stirring frequently.

- Increase heat to high and add all of the sliced mushrooms. Stirring frequently, sauté for 10 minutes, until mushrooms give off liquid and reduce significantly in volume. Stir frequently, especially when you first add them to prevent burning. (You may want to lower the heat initially until the mushrooms begin to release liquid).

- Add chicken stock, beef stock, reserved mushroom soaking liquid, and porcinis.

- Allow the soup to simmer (over about medium heat) for 30 minutes. Remove rosemary sprigs, add cream, and blend with immersion blender until it is the desired consistency. This could also be done in a blender, but be sure to do it in batches, with the blender about half full and vented.

- Keep soup at a bare simmer (to prevent cream from curdling), and serve soup with good bread and extra virgin olive oil.

Marinara Sauce with Fresh Tomatoes

2010-09-05T21:51:00.001-06:00

It’s no secret that psycho cooker is psycho for pasta. It is just so tasty and versatile, not to mention affordable. Of all the ways to cook pasta, there are few that are as pure and classic as marinara. I have no qualms about using canned tomatoes, or even cracking open a good jarred brand. However, making it from scratch with fresh tomatoes elevates this simple pleasure to a new elegance, and there is no better time to tackle such an endeavor than late summer, when tomatoes achieve their deepest color and flavor.

Fresh marinara is not a quick feat, and while it is not difficult, there are a lot of steps, and it requires some organization. The recipe requires that Roma tomatoes be blanched, peeled, and seeded, which is less difficult than it sounds, but takes a good half hour to forty-five minutes. What does this mean exactly? Score all the tomatoes, by using a paring knife and making an X in the bottom of each one. Then drop them into boiling water for about 20 seconds. The tomatoes go promptly from the boiling water to a bowl of ice water for about a minute to cool down (this is called “shocking” the tomatoes, and I imagine that, as a Roma tomato, it would indeed by quite shocking). After removing them from the ice water, the skins of the tomatoes will easily slip off with a gentle tug. You can then remove the majority of the seeds by slicing each tomato in half and gently squeezing the halves in the palm of your hand. This process may sound like nuisance; I personally find it incredibly comforting. To each him own, but if you find yourself siding with the prior statement, the recipe could also be made with a large can of whole peeled plum tomatoes, and a significantly decreased cooking time.

Marinara requires diced aromatic vegetables as its flavor base. I recommend chopping the aromatics (onion, carrot, celery, and garlic) first, while a BIG pot of water comes to a boil for blanching the tomatoes (the water can be used again later to boil the pasta). Chopping these vegetables in advance and setting them aside will make the whole process smoother, and it will only require a few extra minutes (we can all come up with 10 extra minutes, right?) You could skip the carrot and celery, but I think they add a nice dimension, and balance the tomatoes’ acidity.

Did I mention how delicious this sauce is? I let it cook for about 50 minutes, of course tasting it along the way. It retained the flavor of raw tomatoes for so long that I was getting a little concerned, but something magical happened in the last 10 or minutes of cooking; all the flavors came together to yield a rich, deep, slow-simmered tomatoey flavor. I gave mine a blitz with my immersion blender to make it smooth and silky. This is not necessary, especially if you like a chunky sauce, but it also helps create the creamy color. Despite the color, there is actually no cream in this recipe. That is just the natural pigment of the fresh tomatoes, and I can practically guarantee that your sauce will have the same lush color. In a world with so much chaos, it is certainly a comfort to know that simple, raw ingredients can be transformed into something so much greater than the sum of their parts with a little thought and organization, and of course, heat. You can always rely on good, old chemical reactions.

This recipe yields about 5 cups of sauce. What to do with the leftovers? Freezing it is a good option, but I have a more delicious idea. Stay tuned (hint: it involves crispy, breaded chicken and melted cheese).

Fresh Tomato Marinara (yields about 5 cups)

¼ cup extra virgin olive oil

3 lbs. ripe Roma tomatoes

1 medium onion, diced

1 carrot, peeled and diced

1 stalk celery, diced

4 cloves garlic, minced

2 tablespoons tomato paste

1 teaspoons dried oregano

Hot pepper flakes, to taste (optional)

1 teaspoon sugar

Kosher salt and freshly ground black pepper

½ -1 cup chicken stock, vegetable stock, water, white wine (optional)

Serving suggestion:

Freshly cooked pasta, Parmesan cheese, chopped parsley or basil

- Dice the onion, carrot, celery, and garlic set aside.

- Put a large pot of water over high heat to come to a boil. You want it to be large enough to boil your pasta.

- While the water heats up, rinse the tomatoes, and score them on the bottom, making an X. Use a paring knife to do this and try not to cut too deep into the tomato. Also, set up a large bowl of ice water.

- When the water is boiling, add about 3 tomatoes at a time with a slotted spoon, and let them boil for 20 seconds. Remove from the boiling water, and add to the ice water. Allow the tomatoes to sit in the ice water for one minute, and then set aside. Repeat until all tomatoes have been blanched and chilled.

- In a three-quart sauté pan (or larger – definitely not smaller), heat the olive oil over medium heat. Add chopped vegetables and garlic. Season with a big pinch of salt (about a teaspoon), pepper, and add the oregano and hot pepper flakes (if using). Sauté until soft, stirring frequently, about 12-15 minutes total.

- While the vegetables cook, pull the skins off the blanched tomatoes, and cut each one in half. Place a tomato half in the palm of your hand, cut side up. Gently the tomato gently into a fine strainer, lining a large bowl. Squeeze each tomato half until the majority of the seeds come out, and set the tomatoes aside. When you are done with all the tomatoes, push the pulp through the strainer with the back of a large spoon.

- Coarsely chop the peeled and seeded tomatoes, removing any large white cores.

- When the vegetables have softened, add the tomato paste, and stir to combine (some chunks of tomato paste are okay), and then add all of the tomatoes and any strained juice from the seeding process.

- Add more salt and pepper, a teaspoon of sugar, and stir to combine. Increase heat so the sauce is gently bubbling. Put a lid on the pot, but keep it vented. Stir occasionally, and allow the sauce to simmer for 45 minutes to an hour.

- If you’re sauce looks like it has reduced a lot, but it still has a raw tomato flavor (e.g it’s not done), and requires more cooking, add some liquid (½ to 1 cup). I used chicken stock, but water, wine, or vegetable stock would work too.

- When your sauce tastes and smells delicious (taste it for seasoning), you may want to give it a blitz with an immersion blender, but don’t obliterate it. You could also do this with a standing blender. I would recommend only blending about half the sauce so you maintain some texture, and make sure you don’t fill your blender more than half way, and vent it, to prevent explosions.

- Toss your sauce with freshly cooked pasta and lots of delicious Parmesan, and maybe a little parsley. Be sure to set aside some pasta cooking liquid before draining your pasta to help bind everything together. A little extra virgin olive oil at the end is also delicious. (By the way, unless you're cooking for a really big crowd, be sure to set a couple of cups of sauce aside for other applications. Always better to set aside too much than too little. It goes back into the pasta a lot easier than it comes out.)

Bacon and Vegetable Fried Rice

2010-08-06T12:41:00.009-06:00

Fried rice is a delectable treat, usually reserved for otherwise-boring leftover rice. However, seeing that rice takes a mere 15-20 minutes on the stove, I have no problem whipping some up when the mood for its fried variation attacks. Besides, there is plenty of chopping and sautéing to do in the meantime.

Fried rice is a vehicle for practically any lingering vegetable you may have in your refrigerator. The recipe below is merely a guideline. Carrots, celery, scallions, spinach, watercress, corn (fresh or frozen), cauliflower, and zucchini would all be welcome additions. The version below may also be grossly simplified with satisfying results: I’ve made fried rice with just garlic, soy sauce, egg, and frozen peas as add-ins. Despite my excessive detail, my point is that fried rice is versatile, and may be easily adjusted to both your tastes and the contents of your refrigerator. However, I do feel the following ingredients are mandatory in addition to rice: garlic, soy sauce, egg, and some sort of vegetable. This combination provides crucial elements in the domains of both flavor and texture. The tender egg is particularly delightful, and it provides substance.

Protein in addition to the egg is purely optional, but fried rice can breathe new life into less-than-thrilling leftover chicken, beef, etc. The sky’s the limit in this regard. I usually use leftover chicken, but last night, I had a hankering for bacon. While bacon is by no means obligatory, I feel the need to sing its praises as key player in this dish. The chewy, salty, smoky pieces dispersed throughout the rice were a pure joy. But then again, when is bacon not a joy? If you want to make the recipe below, and you happen to suffer from pork aversion or vegetarianism, skip the first step, and sauté your vegetables in light colored oil, instead of bacon grease. Also, if you feel so inclined, a tablespoon of grated fresh ginger would be lovely added with the garlic. A drizzle of toasted sesame oil wouldn’t hurt at the end. About a half teaspoon would be a nice touch, without overpowering the other delicious flavors (like bacon!) I may be providing far too many options and modifications, but this is the reality of fried rice. My advice to you: be decisive, go forth and fry some up.

Bacon (and Vegetable) Fried Rice

3 slices of bacon (about ¼ lb.)

½ onion, diced

½ red bell pepper, diced

6 mushrooms, sliced

2 cloves garlic, minced

Medium head of broccoli, chopped into small florets

½ cup frozen peas (no need to thaw)

3 cups cooked rice (white or brown)

2 large eggs, scrambled

Soy sauce (probably about 2 tablespoons)

Oyster sauce (probably about 2 teaspoons)

Black pepper

Sriracha hot sauce, to taste (optional)

- Preheat a large non-stick pan over medium heat. Add bacon to the hot pan, and sauté until crisp. Remove from the pan to a plate lined with paper towel. When cool, coarsely chop the bacon.

- Carefully remove all but 2-3 tablespoons of the remaining bacon grease (when in doubt, go with less; you can always add some oil later if need be). Add the onion and bell pepper. Season with about 2 teaspoons of soy sauce and black pepper. Sauté until the vegetables begin to soften, about 5 minutes.

- Add mushrooms. Allow to cook until they start to give off liquid and begin to brown (about 5 minutes). Add garlic.

- Meanwhile, par-cook the broccoli: place the chopped broccoli in a microwave safe bowl. Cover with plastic wrap, leaving one side vented. Microwave on high for a minute and a half.

- Add the broccoli to the pan. Stir to combine and season with about 2 teaspoons of soy sauce and more black pepper. Allow to cook for about 2 minutes.

- Add rice, peas, and bacon to the pan. Season with more soy sauce, oyster sauce, and Sriracha (if using). Stir fry everything together for 3-5 minutes, or until everything is heated through.

- Move rice mixture to one side of the pan, and add the eggs. Allow to set for a minute, then scramble them until cooked through. (See pictures above). Mix the eggs into the fried rice.

- Taste for seasoning and add more soy sauce and Sriracha if needed.

White Wine Braised Chicken

2010-07-26T22:08:00.003-06:00

I’ve been craving roast chicken. Bone-in, skin-on, luscious chicken. It is far too hot to turn on my ancient oven in my tiny, non-air-conditioned apartment; however, I thought I might be able to get away with braising, without suffering the consequences of a sleepless night, as heat seeps from the oven for hours. Plus, braising has some added benefits that roasting lacks. A braise, by definition, requires a notable amount of liquid. Wine just happens to be a liquid, and cooking something in wine always makes food better. And thus, white wine braised chicken was born.

It was a fairly simple process, which yielded very delicious results. First, I seasoned some chicken legs with salt and pepper, and sprinkled them with flour (you could embark in a full-on dredging process if you wanted thicker sauce, but I enjoyed the gently viscous sauce that this process produced). Then I seared the chicken until it was deeply browned, but not cooked through, and set it aside.

I sautéed sliced onions and cremini mushrooms in the remaining chicken-y goodness, followed by some minced garlic and dried thyme. Next I added a healthy squirt of tomato paste for richness and color, as well as some diced Roma tomatoes (in the middle of July, it would be a sin to use canned tomatoes). Then I dumped in half a mere half bottle of white wine, and nestled the seared chicken into this lovely concoction. The whole mixture bubbled away for about a half hour, and the result was tender, moist chicken bathed in a lush sauce. I served it on a bed of lemon-herb orzo, and I had no complaints.

What’s lemon-herb orzo, you ask? Simply toss some freshly cooked orzo pasta with fresh lemon juice/zest, extra virgin olive oil, chopped parsley, salt and pepper, and you can see for yourself.

White Wine Braised Chicken

4 chicken legs, split (bone in, skin on!)

1-2 tablespoons flour

1 teaspoon olive oil

½ onion, thinly sliced

6-8 oz. of cremini mushrooms, sliced

2 fat cloves garlic, minced

3 Roma tomatoes, chopped

½ teaspoon dried thyme

1 tablespoon tomato paste

1 dried bay leaf

½ bottle of dry white wine

kosher salt and freshly ground black pepper

¼ cup chopped fresh parsley

- Preheat a large, heavy non-stick skillet over high heat* with about teaspoon of olive oil (you want it hot!) In the meantime, liberally season chicken with kosher salt and pepper, and sprinkle with the flour. When the olive oil is rippling and starting to smoke, add the chicken, skin side down, in a single layer. Leave undisturbed for at least 5 minutes (it will splatter, be careful). Flip and allow to brown on the other side, and then set aside on a plate.

- Reduce heat to medium. Carefully remove all but about 2 tablespoons of grease from the pan (I use wadded up paper towels). Add sliced onions, season lightly with S &P, and sauté until they start to soften, about 5 minutes.

- Add mushrooms, with a little more S & P, and cook until they start to brown and release their liquid, about 5 minutes.

- Add garlic and thyme. Cook for about a minute, and add tomato paste. Stir, and cook for about 1 minute.

- Add tomatoes, and little more S & P. Cook for 2-3 minutes, until they start to soften.

- Dump in half a bottle of dry white wine and a bay leaf; stir to combine.

- Add the chicken back to pan. Cover the pot with a lid, slightly vented. Cook for 20-30 minutes (depending on how big the pieces are, and your fear of salmonella), turning chicken occasionally.

- Add parsley and enjoy.

*I actually switched between high and medium-high heat during this process, but my stove is awful. Medium high would probably suffice for a decent stove.

The Easiest Mac and Cheese Made Easier

2010-06-15T14:19:00.001-06:00

Last weekend was the first I spent without Warren since my return to Boulder. We spent the majority of our time together on the weekends, and I knew the first one here without him would be particularly difficult. Thus, I preemptively made plans to surround myself with good people and to do some cooking, as cooking is one of the few things that provide me unconditional solace right now. Good friends help, too. It happened to be a cold weekend, and between the weather and the circumstances, it was a perfect opportunity to delve into my favorite culinary realm: comfort food. Between me and a friend, we plotted to prepare a veritable feast: baked mac and cheese, roasted meatballs with a bell pepper and caper relish, oatmeal chocolate chip cookies, and a tender mixed green salad with a lemon-caper vinaigrette, julienned carrots and zucchini, chopped egg, and parmesan.

Unfortunately, this meal never came to fruition. I began cooking by attempting to julienne my vegetables for the salad, and this first step became my downfall. I had just purchased a new (and evil) mandoline slicer earlier that day, and what the slicer called “julienne” was closer to the thickness of a French fry. While I was busy hating my new mandoline, the zucchini slipped, and I sliced my thumb instead, in three places, perfectly spaced apart. With a single look at my wound, I knew stitches were probably the best solution. Luckily, after my burned-hand-incident, I already knew the emergency room drill. Two hours and seven stitches later, I emerged from the ER, having survived yet another kitchen casualty. I spent the first half of my ER visit cursing my existence (because I had no one else to blame but myself), and the second half laughing, and I’ve been trying to laugh about it ever since. How could I make two culinary-related trips to the ER in such a short period of time? There is only one answer: I am ridiculous. It just made me miss Warren so much. He would have been sweet about it, and helped with tasks that require 2 hands (i.e. dishes), but mostly, we would have laughed about it together.

The delicious dinner was thwarted by the trip to the ER, and instead we dined on Wendy’s. After being flooded with adrenaline and having my thumb sewn together, nothing could have been tastier. Although, I must admit, I will sing the praises of a Wendy’s baked potato any day. Nonetheless, the following evening, I felt the need to cook, despite my physical limitations. I made a modified version of my mac and cheese with tomatoes, which eliminated the need for chopping. It was the most delicious, and easiest thing I could fathom at that point in time. It’s sort of like pizza mac. Plus, Warren loved this version of mac and cheese; he literally groaned with his first bite when I made it for him. Wherever he is, maybe he can still smell it. More importantly, if he has any inkling of what’s going on in my life, I hope he had a good laugh at me and my bum thumb.

Mac & Cheese with Tomatoes for Idiots:

Cook one pound of penne a few minutes shy of al dente. Drain quickly (a little pasta water is good). Return to pot.

Add one 28 oz. can of diced tomatoes (I used petite diced).

Add one pound shredded cheese (I used a combination of sharp cheddar and a mild cheddar/jack blend).

Stir to combine; season with salt and pepper to taste; transfer to a greased 9x13 baking dish; cover allow to sit for at least 2 hours or up to overnight in the refrigerator.

Bake at 350 degrees for 40-50 minutes (perhaps with a little extra cheese on top), or until bubbling and browned. Carefully (I don’t need a burn on top of stitches) remove from the oven. Allow to sit for 10 minutes or so and enjoy.

A Tribute

2010-05-26T20:31:00.001-06:00

My blog focuses on food, but it is a reflection of my life. It represents my life, through the lens of food, and right now, my life and my heart are broken. Someone passed away recently who was near and dear to many hearts, but mine especially. I thought there was a chance we might choose to walk through this life together, but instead he left this world and my life far too early. Now, I remain in his absence, trying to make sense of the impossible.

I did a lot of cooking for him over the last few months. If you look closely, he is peppered throughout my blogs posts. I would have written about him more explicitly, but I figured there was plenty of time for that, and I didn’t want to jinx our “blossoming romance” (as he referred it to). Warren loved my love of cooking. He certainly seemed to love the steaming plates of food I put in front of him. However, I think he also loved to watch me happily smash garlic cloves or see me grin over the whirring of my immersion blender. Being the thoughtful person that he was, Warren bought me a subscription to Cooks’ Illustrated, as part of my birthday present. As painful as it will be to receive that in the mail for the next year, I owe it to both him and myself to cook from it, and cook from it with gusto.

Below is a recipe for vegetable lasagna, adapted from the spring issue of my birthday present. I made it for Warren just a few weeks ago, and it was excellent, prepared just as the recipe was written. But I thought I could make it a little bit better, with some extra vegetables and a few other minor adjustments. I planned on making it again for him, but instead I made it in honor of him. Forgive me for not going into detail about it. It’s currently beyond my capacity, but I will say the Barilla brand no-boil lasagna noodles are imperative. I used them the first time as well, and while discussing the meal with Warren, I described them as “thin and tender, but not mushy.” Warren responded, “that’s how I describe you to other people.” I miss you dearly, Warren.

Vegetable Lasagna for Warren (adapted from Cooks’ Illustrated)

5 tablespoons olive oil, divided

10 oz. baby spinach

1 medium onion, diced

1 pound white button mushrooms, sliced thin

1 small carrot, julienned

1 large or 2 small zucchini, julienned

2 cloves garlic, minced

½ teaspoon red pepper flakes

1-28 oz. can crushed tomatoes

¼ cup chopped fresh basil

12 no-boil Barilla lasagna noodles

½ pound mozzarella cheese, shredded

½ pound Italian fontina cheese, shredded

3 ounces Parmesan cheese, grated

Salt and freshly ground pepper

· I would recommend prepping all ingredients before starting. Mix together mozzarella and fontina cheeses. Use a mandoline slicer for the carrot and zucchini (these vegetables are additions to the original recipe. Feel free to leave them out).

· Preheat the oven to 375 degrees.

· In a large skillet, heat 2 tablespoons olive oil over medium-high heat. Add all of the spinach, and sauté until it is just wilted (about 4 minutes), and season with salt and pepper. Set spinach aside in a colander to drain. When cooled, squeeze out liquid gently.

· In the same skillet, over medium high-heat, add 2 more tablespoons of olive oil. When hot, diced onion and sauté for 10 minutes, until softened. Add mushrooms and cook for about 8-10 minutes. Allow all liquid to cook out of mushrooms, and let them brown. When nicely browned, season with salt and lots of pepper. Add to a large bowl, and add drained spinach. Mix vegetables together.

· In the same skillet, add last tablespoon of olive oil. Add minced garlic and red pepper flakes. Sauté until fragrant (about a minute). Add crushed tomatoes. Season with salt and pepper. Over medium heat, stir frequently and cook for about 15 minutes. Stir in basil.

· Pour sauce into a large measuring cup, and add enough water to have 3 ½ cups of sauce.

· In a greased 9x13 pan, pour ½ cup of sauce and top with 3 lasagna noodles, making sure they are not touching each other or the sides of the pan.

· Add one cup of mushroom-spinach mixture, topped with 1/3 of carrots and 1/3 of zucchini. Then top with 2/3 cup of tomato sauce, 1 cup mozz/fontina, followed by 1/3 cup of parmesan. It’s a lot measuring, but it makes for a beautiful lasagna.

· Follow with 2 more layers, starting with noodles.

· Finish with a fourth layer of noodles, the rest of the sauce (about 1 cup), last cup of mozz/fontina, and ½ cup of Parmesan.

· Seal the pan with aluminum foil. Cook in the oven for 20 minutes. Remove foil, and cook for 15 more minutes. Remove when cheese is spotty-brown. Allow to stand for 10 minutes, and serve.

Linguine with Cauliflower and Bacon

2010-05-10T16:43:00.002-06:00

This is a new twist on an old favorite: linguine with cauliflower and bacon. In the fall, I wrote a post about pasta with cauliflower, green olives, and almonds. It was a lovely dish, with a perfect balance of savory flavors and textures. This recipe is similar: pasta with beautifully caramelized cauliflower, swathed in garlic and hot pepper flakes. However, instead of saltiness from green olives, and crunch from toasted almonds, bacon takes over, boasting both salt and crunch.

I will not try to be coy about it: this is not a low fat dish. I started this by rendering chopped bacon in a pan. When it was crisp, I set it aside, and proceeded to cook the cauliflower in some of the remaining bacon grease. However, the cauliflower wasn’t caramelizing to my specifications, so I proceeded to add some butter to the pan. Later, while tossing the pasta with the cauliflower, it seemed dry, and I added a drizzle of olive oil. And, of course, the pasta is finished with the crispy bacon and feathery ribbons of parmesan. I’m sure you won’t be surprised to hear that this was absolutely delicious. When I concocted this idea in my food-obsessed brain, I was most excited about the flavor the bacon grease would impart upon the cauliflower. However, this did not fully live up to my expectations. I made it a second time a week later, and cooked the cauliflower in olive oil, thus saving my arteries from unnecessary saturated fats, and difference was minimal. Nonetheless, there is no substitute for the crispy bacon garnish. Despite all the olive oil, and butter, (and potentially, bacon grease), if you follow the measurements below, this dish is loaded with cauliflower. Cauliflower, in turn, is loaded with vitamin C and fiber, thus negating some concerns you may have regarding the bacon. Personally, I think those crispy, salty, meaty morsels are worth their weight in gold.

Linguine with Cauliflower and Bacon (makes 2 large servings)

1/3 pound bacon, chopped

1 ½ pounds cauliflower, chopped

1/3-1/2 pound pasta

2 cloves garlic, minced

½ hot pepper flakes

pepper

salt

¼ cup parsley, chopped

½ tablespoon butter (optional)

olive oil

2 tablespoons of water

· Preheat a large non-stick skillet over medium heat, cook the bacon for about 8-10 minutes, stirring often, and until browned and crisp.

· Remove crisped bacon from the pan and drain on a plate lined with paper towel. Set aside (and try not to eat too much of it).

· For the high fate version: using paper towels, carefully mop up all but 2-3 tablespoons of bacon grease. For the lower fate version, wipe up all of the bacon grease and add 2-3 tablespoons of olive oil to the pan.

· Increase the heat to medium high, and add the cauliflower. Stir to even goat with the olive oil or bacon grease. Allow to cook, for about 20 minutes total. Stir every 5-7 minutes, leaving it undisturbed when possible so it will caramelize. If it isn’t browning well, add about ½ tablespoon of butter (it has a lower smoke point than olive oil/bacon grease, thus it assists with browning).

· In the last 5 or so minutes of cooking, add minced garlic, hot pepper flakes, salt and pepper.

· Meanwhile, cook linguine in a pot of boiling water according to package directions. Drain linguine when it’s ready, reserving some of the pasta cooking water. Or you can use tongs and pull the linguine directly from the pot and add to the pan of cauliflower.

· Toss the linguine with the cauliflower and parsley. Add a few tablespoons of pasta cooking water and/or a drizzle of olive oil if the pasta is dry.

· Plate pasta and garnish with reserved bacon and parmesan cheese.

Mujadra

2010-04-28T11:13:00.002-06:00

April is not exactly a joyous time of year for graduate students. The weather is getting nicer, yet the time you spend studying only increases. At this juncture, I feel like I worry so excessively about school that I absolutely refuse to worry about how I’m going to be fed. During times like these, I want to have a big pot of food in my refrigerator, on call for the demands of my stomach. Mujadra is perfect for such desperate circumstances. In a nutshell, it is vegetarian, Middle Eastern, comfort food. It also happens to be nutritious and dirt-cheap. It consists of just a handful of ingredients: lentils and rice, seasoned with sautéed onions and cumin, all cooked together in stock. I prefer chicken stock, but of course vegetable stock is would work, as well. According to the recipe, you can also use water, but I cannot vouch for that.

I understand if you think it sounds boring. In fact, I’ll admit it: it sounds boring. However, it happens to be so delicious and satisfying. I’m not sure what happens in that pot while it cooks, but there must be little magicians housed in those lentils because somehow that boring ingredient list creates a sum that is much greater than its parts. Give your mujadra a generous spritz of fresh lemon (or top with caramelized onions if you have the time), and enjoy this simple pleasure, that’s both easy on your stomach and your pocket. The leftovers will provide abundant repeat performances.

Mujadra (recipe courtesy of my mom)

1 cup dried lentils (I prefer green French lentils, but my mom always uses brown lentils)

1 cup white rice

1 medium onion, chopped

2 tablespoons olive oil

1½ teaspoons ground cumin

4 cups stock or water (I use two 14 oz. cans of chicken stock and make up the difference with water)

Kosher salt and freshly ground pepper

Lemon wedges or carmelized onions, for garnish

· In a large pot over medium heat, lightly sauté onion in olive oil until tender, but not brown (about 10 minutes).

· Add lentils and sauté for 1 minute, so that lentils are evenly coated with the olive oil. Add 4 cups liquid of choice and bring to a boil.

· Reduce heat, cover and simmer for 20 minutes (25-30 minutes in the mountains).

· Add rice, cumin, a big pinch of salt, and lots of pepper.

· Simmer, covered, for 25 - 40 minutes until tender.

· Serve with lemon wedges or caramelized onions.

Chicken Fajitas

2010-04-26T10:21:00.003-06:00

I apologize if you’re tired of hearing me gush about Tastespotting, but it truly is the best website ever. I don’t necessarily use or even look at the recipes; the pictures are enough inspiration on their own. As a cook, it’s easy to get boxed in by your own inherent tastes. You develop a moderate sized repertoire of dishes that you like and you do well, and that’s about all you cook. Tastespotting can free you of this cycle. You browse the pictures; you drool a little; you roll your eyes at stupid captions; eventually, you see something that is outside of your repertoire, but you unconsciously always wanted to make. Recently, it was fajitas. I saw a picture of some lovely chicken fajitas, and I could not figure out why I never make them. I saw the picture on Monday, with a plan to make fajitas on Friday night. They were the light at the end of my weeklong tunnel. I did look at the recipe accompanying the inspiring photo, but I wasn’t thrilled. So I made one up. Fajitas are pretty straight forward, and mine came out quite well. If you made up a recipe for fajitas, I’m sure they would be tasty, too. But I owe Tastespotting for planting the idea in my brain.

My fajitas were made with thinly sliced chicken, onion, and poblano peppers. The mixture was marinated in a kitchen-sink-type of situation: lime juice, lemon juice, chili powder, cumin, hot pepper flakes, garlic, oregano, thyme, Frank’s red hot, and oil. The only thing I would do differently is reduce the oil, and add some fresh jalapeno. They were certainly tasty after bathing in all of that olive oil, but I don’t think I would have missed it. I decided to pull out the big guns, and make my own condiments: grape tomato pico de gallo, and guacamole. Both were simple and tasty, and basically comprised of the same ingredients, swapping tomatoes and avocados. Next time you’re looking to have a raging Friday night, you may hear chicken fajitas calling your name.

Chicken Fajitas

Marinade:

Juice of 2 limes

Juice of ½ lemon

3 tablespoons Frank’s Red Hot sauce

2 cloves garlic, grated

1 teaspoon hot pepper flakes

1 teaspoon chili powder

1 teaspoon cumin

½ teaspoon dried thyme

½ teaspoon dried oregano

½ teaspoon salt

½ cup oil (I used a mix of olive oil and canola. Next time I’d try just using a ¼ cup)

1-1¼ chicken breast, sliced thin

1 poblano pepper, sliced thin

1 onion, sliced thin

Pico de Gallo:

1 pint of grape tomatoes, halved

1½ tablespoons finely diced red onion

½ large jalapeno, seeded and finely diced

1 tablespoon chopped fresh cilantro

Juice of one lime

Salt and pepper

Guacamole:

2 ripe avocados, diced

1½ tablespoons finely diced red onion

½ large jalapeno, seeded and finely diced

1 tablespoon chopped fresh cilantro

Juice of one lemon

A few splashes of Frank’s red hot sauce

Salt

Accompaniments:

Flour tortillas

Shredded cheese

· Prep your chicken, poblano, and onion. Add to a gallon sized Ziploc bag.

· Make the marinade by whisking together all of the ingredients besides the oil. When everything is well incorporated, slowly whisk in the oil. Pour the marinade over the chicken mixture.

· Seal the bag, and allow the marinade to evenly distribute throughout the bag. Marinate the mixture in the refrigerator, turning the bag every 15 minutes or so. Marinate for at least an hour. [I recommend stowing the bag in a baking dish, rather than directly on your refrigerator shelf in case there is a leak.]

· In the meantime, prepare the pico de gallo by combining all listed ingredients. Do this about ½ hour before you are ready to start cooking the chicken to let the flavors combine.

· Just before you are ready to cook, prepare the guacamole by mixing all of the ingredients. The easiest way to prepare the avocado:

o Carefully cut the avocado in half by moving your knife slowly around the seed.

o Once halved, hold the avocado in your palm and give the seed a careful whack with your knife. The knife should go into the avocado about a ¼ inch so you are able to pull out the seed from the flesh.

o Then carefully remove the seed from the blade (if this scares you, you can scoop it out with a big spoon, but you’ll lose some of your avocado).

o While still in the skin, cross hatch the avocado flesh with your knife, and then scoop out the cubes with a large spoon.

· Then add everything else to the avocado, and stir to combine, mashing the avocado slightly, until you’ve reached your desired consistency.

· When you’re ready to cook the chicken, preheat a large skillet (preferably non-stick), dry, over high heat.

· When it is HOT (after about 3-5 minutes), add the chicken, peppers, and onions in an even layer (use tongs, instead of dumping the contents of the bag into the pan, so you leave the excess oil in the bag).

· Cook, stirring frequently until the chicken is cooked through and the peppers and onions have softened.

· When the chicken is ready, heat tortillas by wrapping them in paper towel, lightly sprinkled with water, and heat in the microwave for 20-30 seconds.

· Serve chicken with tortillas, shredded cheese, pico de gallo, and guacamole.

Tomato Soup with Grilled Ham and Cheese Sandwiches

2010-04-17T21:19:00.002-06:00

April is National Grilled Cheese Month! I have no idea who declares these silly food holidays, or why, but I will embrace any excuse to eat a grilled cheese sandwich. This very special month-long holiday was revealed to me via Tastespotting, and it was later confirmed by another reputable source. Such a momentous occasion inspired me to make a grilled cheese sandwich’s perfect companion: tomato soup. I suppose there’s nothing wrong with a little old school canned tomato soup. Amy’s Kitchen makes a lovely chunky tomato bisque. However, it’s entirely feasible to whip up a whole pot of your own (significantly better) tomato soup for the same cost as a dinky can of Amy’s.

You will find that the ingredients for this soup are similar to marinara sauce. In truth, the final product sort of resembles marinara soup. Personally, I don’t think that this is a bad thing. It’s lovely as soup, and when you get sick of soup, you can add it to your favorite pasta. May I suggest sautéed zucchini and grape tomatoes with spaghetti? Perhaps a soup that tastes like pasta sauce doesn’t appeal to you. That’s fine; you’re can opener awaits. I, however, thought it was delicious, and ate it with grilled ham and cheese sandwiches. Yes, I veered off my original grilled cheese course, but my sandwich could be considered a first cousin of grilled cheese: crusty Italian bread, sharp provolone, Black Forest ham, and baby spinach. In my defense, it was heavy on the cheese, and light on the ham. I don’t think this combination should trigger too many complaints.

Tomato Soup (adapted from Mark Bittman’s recipe)

2 tablespoons olive oil

1 carrot, diced

1 stalk celery, diced

½ onion, diced

1 clove garlic, minced

Salt and pepper

28 oz. can whole peeled tomatoes, with juice

½ teaspoon dried thyme, crushed

1 cup reduced-sodium chicken stock

¼ to ½ cup half and half

· In a medium sized saucepan, heat the olive oil over medium heat. Once hot, add the carrot, celery, onion, and garlic. Season with salt and pepper, and sauté, stirring frequently, until the vegetables are tender (at least 10 minutes).

· Add the can of tomatoes, dried thyme, and little more salt and pepper. Increase heat so the mixture starts to boil gently, and then reduce the heat to a simmer. Cook for about 10 minutes, stirring with a wooden spoon, and breaking up some of the tomatoes.

· Add the chicken stock, and simmer for another 10 minutes. Taste for seasoning, and re-season if necessary.

· Using an immersion blender, blend the soup until it is smooth, but leave some chunks if desired. Then add the half and half. Heat the soup through and serve with grilled sandwich of choice.

Al Fresco Dining

2010-04-12T21:21:00.001-06:00

What’s the perfect ending to a perfect spring day? The perfect dinner, outside, of course. What’s the perfect outside dinner? Parmesan chicken topped with a simple salad dressed in lemon vinaigrette. There’s really no witty story or commentary behind this recipe. Last Sunday, I just happened to spend a lovely homework-free day in good company. I literally forgot I was in grad school for they day, and as I rode this wave of contented delirium, this recipe popped in my head. I saw Ina Garten make it for Mel Brooks on Barefoot Contessa a while back. If it is good enough for Mel Brooks, it is good enough to complete my perfect spring day.

The gist: pounded out chicken breasts, coated in Parmesan and panko breadcrumbs, and sautéed. Then you top it with a simple salad, and eat perfect morsels of lemony greens with crispy chicken. It doesn’t take too long to make, and it’s perfect for warm weather because you only need to have the stove on for about 10-15 minutes. Eating this dinner outside definitely makes it taste better, and I do have a witness.

Parmesan Chicken (adapted from Ina Garten's recipe)

2 boneless skinless chicken breast halves

1 cup panko breadcrumbs

½ cup grated Parmesan cheese (the crumbly kind you find at the grocery store)

1 teaspoon kosher salt

Lots of freshly ground pepper

2 large eggs

Olive oil

For the salad:

Salad greens for two (I used about 2/3 of a bag of spring mix)

Juice of one lemon

1½ teaspoons Dijon mustard

Kosher salt and freshly ground pepper

About ¼ cup extra virgin olive oil

Extra parm for garnish

· First order of business: make the chicken breasts thin (about ¼ inch thick) to make them more tender and quick cooking.

· You can do this by pounding them out with the flat side of a meat mallet, the bottom of a skillet, or a rolling pin. Put the chicken between 2 pieces of plastic wrap to contain the mess.

· Or you can butterfly them first, and then pound them out (my preferred method), but if you’re not very comfortable with a knife go with the other method. To butterfly, I place the palm of my hand on the chicken breast, and press down to stabilize it. Then with my Santoku knife sideways, I slowly work it through the middle of the chicken. The result is two thin pieces. Then I pound.

· Mix together panko, Parmesan, salt and pepper in a large shallow bowl. Taste for seasoning.

· In another large shallow bowl, beat the two eggs with a splash of water (about a couple of teaspoons).

· First dip the chicken in the beaten egg, then the panko mixture. Press the chicken into the panko for an even coating. Proceed with the rest of the chicken. [This can be done a couple of hours in advance. Separate layers of chicken with wax paper and refrigerate.]

· In a large skillet, preheat a shallow layer of olive oil (about 3 tablespoons) over medium-high heat. When it’s good and hot, add the chicken in a single layer. Cook in batches if necessary. The chicken should sizzle. Cook for about four minutes, and then flip. Continue cooking until the chicken is firm to the touch and cooked through (nicely browned, too). If you are cooking the chicken in batches, be sure to add more olive oil to the pan.

· While the chicken cooks, make the dressing. Whisk together the lemon juice, Dijon, salt, and pepper. Then slowly drizzle in the extra virgin olive oil while whisking.

· When the chicken is reading, lightly dress the greens with the vinaigrette. Mound salad on top of chicken breasts, and top with more Parmesan.

Albondigas Soup

2010-04-10T15:30:00.004-06:00

I was working at the Palm Steakhouse, in Philadelphia, when I first ate albondigas soup. When I was really unlucky, I had to write the specials on a chalkboard for everyone to see. I have horrible handwriting, so my being delegated this task was not just a punishment for me, but for everyone else that had to look at it. One day, the chef hands me a piece of paper with the specials on it. I proceeded with my usual grumbling about the task at hand, until the soup of the day distracted me. It was something magical called “Albondigas.” As soon as I had finished scribbling on that blasted chalkboard, I bolted into the kitchen and ate a bowl. Albondigas is a hearty soup Mexican soup. It consists of a rich broth, flavored with cumin and cilantro, mingling with vegetables and tender little meatballs.

This soup is essentially a meal in bowl. At the Palm, albondigas is garnished with fried tortilla strips. In general, I think fried tortilla strips are over-rated. But they have their place on albondigas. I recently found a recipe for this soup in Bon Appétit. I used this, combined with what I could remember from the Palm, to form my own conglomerate. The resulting soup was comforting and hearty, but not too rich. I skipped the tortilla strips because I am afraid to deep-fry in the tight quarters of my apartment. This may be a little irrational, but it is what it is. I’m sure crushed up tortilla chips would have been a fine substitute, but I don’t think anyone missed them. I apologize for the lack of pictures. I was cooking for actual people (instead of my own lone belly), and I apparently found it too challenging to chat, cook, and photograph simultaneously. I’ll try to do better next time.

Albondigas Soup (loosely adapted from Bon Appetit)

Meatballs:

1 lb. ground chicken

1/3 cup panko bread crumbs

1 large egg

1-2 tablespoons chopped fresh cilantro

¼ onion, grated on the large holes of a box grater

1 garlic clove, grated (a microplane works best here)

About a tablespoon of tomato paste (or ketchup)

1-2 teaspoons cumin

½ teaspoon dried oregano

½ teaspoon kosher salt

lots of freshly ground pepper

Soup:

2 tablespoons olive oil

1 medium onion, chopped

Kosher salt and ground black pepper

2 ribs celery, chopped

1 red bell pepper, chopped

1 poblano pepper, chopped

2 cloves garlic, minced

Salt and pepper

8 cups reduced-sodium chicken stock

1-28 oz. can diced tomatoes, with juices

2 teaspoons cumin

2 teaspoons chile powder

1 teaspoon dried oregano

1 teaspoon hot pepper flakes (optional)

½ cup white rice

1 zucchini, chopped

½ to 1 cup frozen corn

Garnish:

Cilantro

Shredded cheese

· First make the meatballs. In a small mixing bowl, add all of the ingredients for the meatballs, besides the chicken, and mix together with clean hands. Then gently fold in the chicken with your hands until it is just mixed through.

· Set up a sheet pan or large baking dish and line with waxed paper. Then about a tablespoon and a half of the mixture into a meatball and set on the waxed paper. It’s helpful to a have a bowl of water near by to dip your fingers in to prevent the meat from sticking. The meatballs can be whatever size you like. Mine were about an inch and half in diameter.

· Cover the meatballs and store in the refrigerator until you’re ready for them.

· In a large soup pot, heat olive oil over medium to medium-high heat. Add chopped onion, celery, bell pepper, poblano, and minced garlic. Season with salt and pepper, and sauté for 10 minutes.

· Then add the stock, tomatoes, cumin, chile powder, oregano, and hot pepper flakes. Stir to combine. Increase heat to high, and bring to a gentle boil, and reduce heat to a simmer.

· Add rice and meatballs to the soup. Cook for 10 minutes, stirring occasionally, making sure the broth is simmering at all times.

· Add zucchini and corn, and cook for 10-15 minutes, or until meatballs are cooked through.

· Serve soup and garnish with shredded cheese and fresh cilantro.

Buffalo Chicken Mac and Cheese

2010-04-05T22:26:00.001-06:00

I think I have a gift for finding fabulous recipes. I suppose “gift” might not be the right word, since it implies an innate talent, without practice or effort. Given the amount of time I spend sifting through recipes, I suppose I can’t exactly classify my recipe-finding talent as naturally occurring. Regardless of this silly semantic argument, I knew I had found a crowd-pleaser when I came across a recipe entitled “buffalo chicken mac and cheese.” If this doesn’t make your stomach grumble, you must be my oldest brother, who won’t eat cheese, or someone who shouldn’t be reading this comfort-food-laden blog.

Honestly, this concept may just qualify as the Holy Grail of comfort food. The idea is ingenious, and the preparation does not waste any of the abundant conceptual potential. The recipe has quite a few steps, but it is entirely manageable, even for a novice cook, with a little motivation and organization.

First, chicken breasts are marinated in pool of Frank’s Red Hot, then roasted, shredded, and mixed with even more Frank’s. Second, carrots, celery, onion, and garlic are sautéed, which provide the dish with flavor and texture, and another philosophical nod to buffalo wings. Third, a simple cheese sauce is made with a roux, milk, a few dried herbs, and buckets of cheese. Then all of the previously mentioned components are mixed together with some elbow macaroni, piled into baking dishes, topped with extra cheese/bread crumbs, and baked. I know; there are a lot of steps, but it’s worth it. And note that I said this masterpiece is piled into baking dishes, as in more than one, because it makes an obscene amount of food. I supposed you could cut the recipe in half, but you might regret it. Or, you could prepare the whole recipe, which would make some hungry friends really happy, and you would still manage to have leftovers for some significantly above average lunches.

Based on the reactions of two very tall boys, my cousin, and myself, I can say that this dish is indeed a crowd-pleaser. This mac surpassed expectations regarding the cheesiness factor, and general flavor. In hindsight, I was hoping it would be a little saucier, and spicier. The texture wasn’t exactly a bad thing; it was just different than my expectations. For ultimate buffalo satisfaction, be sure to bring the Frank’s (or hot sauce of choice) to the table.

Buffalo Chicken Mac and Cheese (from Choosy Beggars)

1-1½ lbs. boneless, skinless chicken breasts

¼ cup Frank’s Red Hot sauce, plus 3 tablespoons, plus more for garnish

1 lb. elbow macaroni, or other small, cut pasta

1 tablespoon olive oil

Kosher salt and black pepper (Be easy with the salt. Frank’s is very salty)

3 ribs celery, small diced

3 small carrots, small diced

½ onion, small diced

2 garlic cloves, minced

3 tablespoons flour

4 tablespoons butter

2 tablespoons Dijon mustard

3 cups milk (I used 1% lowfat)

½ teaspoon dried oregano

1 teaspoon dried basil

½ teaspoon hot pepper flakes

1 pound cheddar, shredded (I used a combination of extra sharp and sharp)

½ pound Parmesan or Pecorino, shredded (it will make a huge difference if you buy a chunk, and shred it yourself)

¼ cup chopped flat leaf parsley

1 cup panko bread crumbs

· Season the chicken breasts with salt and pepper, and marinate chicken in ¼ cup Frank’s hot sauce for at least an hour (or all day), flipping them occasionally.

· In an oven preheated to 400 degrees, roast chicken breasts for about 25 minutes, or until cooked through. Set aside to cool, then shred or chop meat, and toss with remaining 3 tablespoons of Frank’s. Reduce the oven to 375 degrees.

· Put a large pot of water on the stove to boil, on high heat. When boiling, add macaroni, and cook a few minutes less than the instructions indicate. Drain and rinse (yes, I said rinse the pasta, and no, you’ll probably never hear me say it again). Set aside.

· In the meantime, add the olive oil to a medium saucepan over medium to medium-high heat. Add celery, carrot, onion, and garlic. Season with salt and pepper, and sauté for 8-10 minutes, or until softened, but not mushy. Set vegetables aside.

· Add the butter to the same pan, and heat until foamy. Stirring with a whisk, add the flour, and whisk until well incorporated. Cook the flour and butter, whisking frequently, for about two minutes (this is a roux). Then whisk in the Dijon mustard.

· Add the milk, about ½ to ¾ cup at time, whisking constantly. Proceed until all milk is incorporated, then add basil, oregano, hot pepper flakes, and black pepper.

· Cook the sauce over medium-low heat, whisking frequently, for 5-8 minutes, or until it thickens to the point of coating a spoon (see photo). Add all of the cheese except 1 to 1¼ cups. Stir to combine.

· In a large pot or bowl, combine pasta, chicken, vegetables, cheese sauce, and parsley. Stir to combine and then distribute between two casserole dishes, coated with cooking spray (I used one 9x13 and one 8x8 casserole dish. It may have fit in the 9x13, but I was scared).

· Top with extra cheese, then panko breadcrumbs. Bake in the oven for 30 minutes, or until hot and bubbly.

Tuna Noodle Casserole

2010-03-29T21:09:00.001-06:00

The notion of “tuna noodle casserole” keeps finding its way to me. First, it was a friend’s nostalgia about a roommate’s version of the recipe in college (Annie’s “Alfredo Style” mac and cheese, mixed with tuna, and topped with potato chips). Then it was a feature recipe in March’s Bon Appétit (all gussied up with leeks, fresh dill, and béchamel sauce). Additionally, I’ve been eating more tuna salad lately because I’m bored to death with my standby lunch of turkey sandwiches. I know: tuna lacks glamour, and it tends to conjure up images of elderly couples splitting sandwiches on pumpernickel, but it has potential with the right preparation. Ironically, there were many years when I wouldn’t even eat tuna, and I am still hesitant to eat tuna salad prepared by anyone other than myself and a few relatives. However, between my turkey sandwich rut and my tight financial situation, tuna’s stock is currently up.

Last weekend, during one of my maze-like Internet binges of all things food-related, I found the perfect recipe for tuna noodle casserole. I believe Tastespotting led me to it, but I can’t be certain. The recipe’s creator is the blogger/author of “The Comfort is Always Here,” and I am currently quite grateful to this nameless, faceless, culinarily-gifted stranger. The recipe includes the necessary components to earn the title of “tuna noodle casserole”: canned tuna, egg noodles, and canned cream of mushroom soup. The original recipe also includes some lump crabmeat, which puzzled me. If I had the money for lump crabmeat, I’m pretty sure I would find a recipe to let that gorgeous crabmeat take center stage. If I’m not mistaken, the whole point of tuna noodle casserole is to mask the potential funk of canned fish. Lush lump crab requires no such masking. Needless to say, I omitted the crab. Anyway, I relished the fact that the resulting product would be an authentic tuna noodle casserole; however, due to some quality ingredients and flavors, it would be augmented to an undeniably delicious meal with humble (i.e. inexpensive) origins.

How was this feat accomplished? I added a little lemon zest to the tuna; I sautéed lovely little mushrooms, onions, celery, and garlic for flavor and texture; I topped the whole the thing off with extra-sharp cheddar (flavor!) and panko breadcrumbs (crunch!). Everything brought a little something extra to the party, but I must say the celery and the panko were the big winners. I am developing a new appreciation for celery. It really adds a lot to the background of a dish, but it is so modest and unassuming, that it doesn’t call attention to itself. Rather, it lets the whole dish shine. It is truly a vegetable of integrity. And the panko breadcrumbs add such a divine crunch. Need I say more? The crunch loses some of its tenacity with re-heating, but it will make you weak in the knees when this lovely casserole is fresh from the oven.

This dish is comprised of solid, non-controversial flavors, but another selling point is: it is not a greasy mess. It is a rich and satisfying comfort food, but even when you reheat it on high in the microwave, the sauce doesn’t separate or congeal. Tuna noodle casserole: make it and enjoy.

Tuna Noodle Casserole (adapted from “The Comfort is Always Here”)

2-5 oz. cans solid white Albacore tuna, drained well and broken up with a fork

Zest from half a lemon

1-12 oz. package wide egg noodles

1 can Campbell’s Healthy Request cream of mushroom soup

2 cups milk (I used 1% lowfat milk)

8 oz. white button mushrooms, quartered

1 tablespoon plus 1 teaspoon olive oil divided

2 teaspoons soy sauce

1 onion, small diced

4 stalks celery, small diced

2 cloves garlic, minced

1 cup frozen peas (no need to thaw)

¼ cup chopped flat leaf parsley

Loads of freshly ground black pepper

Kosher salt, garlic salt, and/or Lawry’s seasoning salt, to taste

1 ½ cups shredded extra sharp cheddar cheese

1 ½ cups panko breadcrumbs

· Preheat the oven to 375 degrees; put on a large pot of water to boil for the noodles; spray a 9x13 inch-baking dish with non-stick spray, or use butter.

· Mix drained, flaked tuna with lemon zest and season liberally with black pepper. Set aside.

· Whisk together the canned soup and two cups of milk. Set aside.

· Once water is boiling, add egg noodles. Drain them when they are still a little underdone, and rinse with cold water.

· Preheat one teaspoon of olive oil in large skillet over medium-high heat. Once hot, add the quartered mushrooms. Allow liquid to cook off so mushrooms can brown. Remove from pan and season with soy sauce. Set aside.

· In the same pan, add the tablespoon of olive oil. Add celery, onion, and garlic. Season with salt and lots of pepper. Sauté for 8-10 minutes, or until vegetables are tender.

· In a large bowl or pot, mix together noodles*, tuna, soup mixture, mushrooms, sautéed vegetables, peas, and parsley. Season as desired (I added more pepper and a dash of garlic salt and Lawry’s seasoning).

· Transfer to the prepared baking dish. Top with cheese and breadcrumbs. Bake for 30 minutes or until hot and bubbly.

*Note: I didn’t quite use all of the noodles. I maybe held back a cup or so. Use your discretion.