Curried Broccoli-Cauliflower Soup with White Cheddar

I am heading out of town in a few days, and I wanted something to eat this week that would be readily available and somewhat detoxifying, as I know calorie-laden food will probably abound while I’m on vacation.  I settled on broccoli soup, akin to the one in this post, but as I contemplated my plan of attack, the recipe evolved throughout the day, into a new and blog-worthy form.  Initially, it was supposed to be the vision of simplicity: broccoli, onion, and potato, simmered in chicken broth, then pureed and finished with a little white cheddar, but this beast had a mind of its own.  First, I thought that cauliflower would be a welcome addition.  Then, while skimming through Google searches for recipes, the word “curry” seemed to leap off my computer screen, and land squarely in my mouth.  My dinner’s direction and suddenly become very clear.

The truth is: the smell of curry powder destroys me: mystifying, intoxicating, delightful.  This reaction may seem extreme, but perhaps you have never experienced the aroma that ensues when curry powder hits a hot pan.  Or maybe you weren’t paying attention.  It is one of those instances when the whole exceeds the sum of its parts.  I love foods that fall under this category, as it is truly the magic of cooking; a great pot of soup and other slow cooked dishes tend to spring to mind, as I ponder this notion.  What could be more fitting that a curried soup?  My most recent jar of curry powder (curry powder must be fresh) had a detailed list of ingredients, relative to the other available brands of curry, whose ingredient lists’ consisted vaguely of “turmeric and other spices.”  The jar I purchased included fenugreek, coriander, cumin, turmeric, ginger, cinnamon, and nutmeg, amongst other things.  I was pleased to have access to the list, and tried to engage in a little sniff test to see what I could identify; yet, all I could do was deeply inhale and smell the whole earthy combination.  I nearly chocked a couple of times, but it was worth it.

The recipe that resulted from all this excessive thought is a winner for more reasons than one.  First of all, I started the right way: with butter.  This soup is essentially a big bowl of pureed vegetables, and I felt that it needed the rich boost in its base that only butter can provide.  Well, that and bacon fat, but that’s sort of crossing a line when it comes to being considered “vegetarian.”  Regardless of semantics, butter provided a richness in both texture and flavor that was the right fit.  Onion and garlic were then sautéed in the frothy butter foam, until tender; curry powder, nutmeg, and a little cayenne were then lightly toasted in the buttery onions.  Next came the cauliflower and small-diced potato, with just enough broth to cover.  The potato is only there for body, so dice it fine, allowing it to disappear into the soup.  Additionally, it’s crucial to not use excess broth because that will make this pureed veggie soup seem unsatisfying.  After a few minutes, I threw in the broccoli and a touch more broth, and allowed everything to become soft and unctuous.  I whirred the veggie concoction together with my favorite toy, my immersion blender, until it was smooth, with a few stray pieces of curry-stained cauliflower.  A bay leaf would have been a nice touch, but I was too twitterpated by the aroma of the curry powder, and it just slipped my mind. 

I finished the soup with cheese: a sturdy, sharp white cheddar.  Cheese may seem a little off-putting in conjunction with curry; however, the soup needed some sort of salty, creamy, savory element to round out the flavors, soften the edges, and bring them together.  Cream certainly would have been the more obvious choice, and could easily by substituted with about a quarter to a half-cup, but cheese is a clear favorite in my book.  I also think the sharpness of the cheddar adds depth, and a little “je ne said quoi.”  On night two, I actually bedazzeled my soup bowl with a lightly fried egg with a runny yolk.  Delicious.

Curried Cauliflower and Broccoli Soup with White Cheddar

2 tablespoons butter

1 large onion, diced

2 cloves garlic, thinly sliced

2-3 teaspoons curry powder

1/4 teaspoon cayenne pepper

1/4 teaspoons ground nutmeg

1 head cauliflower, cut into florets

1 large russet potato, peeled and diced

4 cups reduced sodium chicken stock

1 small head broccoli, cut into florets

2 teaspoons honey

2 tablespoons red wine vinegar, white wine vinegar, or lemon juice

1 1/2 cups shredded sharp white cheddar

Toasted pine nuts for garnish (optional)

-       In a large soup pot, preheat 2 tablespoons butter over medium heat

-       Once butter has melted, add onion, and season with salt and pepper.  Sauté, stirring occasionally, until onion has softened, about 8 minutes

-       Add garlic, curry, cayenne, and nutmeg.  Sauté for about 1 minute

-       Add cauliflower, potato, and enough chicken stock to just cover the vegetables.

-       Bring to a boil, and simmer, stirring occasionally for about 10 minutes. 

-       Then add broccoli, and simmer until all vegetables are very tender.

-       Puree with am immersion blender until smooth, with a few stray chunks of cauliflower.

-       In the soup bowl, serve soup with a couple of tablespoons shredded white cheddar, stirred in so that it melts.  Garnish with additional cheese, toasted pine nuts, and/or a poached or over easy egg.

Stuffed Peppers

Unlike the typical 9 to 5 job, I work 4-10 hour days.  The days are undeniably long, but a weekly 3-day weekend more than makes up for my intense workweek.  It’s like a weekly mini-vacation.  My favorite part of my three-day weekend is Sunday.  Not working on Mondays, Sunday has been transformed from a somber, stressful affair, focused on preparing for the workweek, into a relaxing and delightful day.  I spend most of my Sunday evenings hunkered down at a good friend’s house in Denver, sipping vodka, eating antipasto, and verbally dissecting the world at large.  Our Sunday meal is typically low maintenance; however, this Sunday, my friend expressed a hankering for stuffed peppers, which I have never made before, and I quickly accepted the challenge, and the change of pace.

When I went to the store, red bell peppers just happened to be on sale, and the whole scenario seemed meant to be.  I went with an Italian theme for the peppers.  I didn’t grow up eating them, so I wasn’t exactly sure what the traditional flavor profile would be, so I chose the direction I know and love best: Italian.  I used ground beef, sausage, rice, tomatoes, basil, onions, garlic, pesto, and, of course, cheese.  I chose a combination of ground beef and sausage because I felt that sausage exclusively would be too fatty and rich; a lot of pasta sauces have both in them, so why not my stuffed peppers?  It turned out lovely, but I will warn you to make sure your stuffing is well seasoned.  The stuffing seasons the actual pepper, in addition to the filling, so over-seasoning a tad is wise.   I used diced tomatoes and a can of sauce for tomato products, but a couple of tablespoons of tomato paste added to the beef and onions would work well; despite the double hit of tomato, a little more would have brought warmly welcomed depth of flavor.  Cheese, glorious cheese, was naturally a pivotal ingredient, and it renders the pepper filling a complete dish in and of itself (we gleefully ate spoonfuls from the pan).  The peppers are stuffed, put in a baking dish with a touch of chicken broth (white wine would also be nice), and sealed with foil before baking.  When they are just about done, they are blanketed in cheese, and broiled.  I chose a combination of mozzarella and asiago, but a sticking solely with a young asiago would be lip-smacking good.  Pick your poison.   

Stuffed Peppers

1/2 lb. ground sirloin

1/2 lb. mild Italian sausage

1 cup rice

2 1/2 cups chicken stock, divided

1 tablespoon olive oil

1 onion, diced

4 garlic cloves, minced

2 cups shredded cheese (such as mozzarella, asiago, parmesan, or a combination)

1 14-ounce can diced tomatoes

6-ounce can of tomato sauce

1/2 cup good quality pesto

1/4 cup basil chiffonade

4-6 bell peppers

Salt, pepper, red chile flakes, oregano

-       Preheat oven to 375 degrees

-       Prepare rice by adding it to 2 cups of simmering chicken stock.  Cover and simmer for 15-20, lifting lid as little as possible.  Set aside when finished.

-       Prepare peppers by cutting of the top, and removing seeds and large ribs.  Set aside in a 9x13 inch baking dish.

-       Preheat a large skillet over medium heat with oil.  Add ground beef and sausage, breaking up chunks with a wooden spoon or spatula.

-       When meat is broken up and beginning to brown, drain excess fat.  Then add onion and minced garlic.  Season with salt, pepper, oregano, and red chile flakes (about 1/2 teaspoon of each, maybe more salt, and little less hot pepper flakes).  Cook until onion and meat is cooked through, stirring occasionally.

-       Add rice, diced tomatoes, and tomato sauce (if you want it more tomato-y in flavor, add 2 tablespoons of tomato paste with the onions).  Stir to combine, taste, and re-season. 

-       Turn off heat and add basil, pesto, and 1/2 the cheese.

-       Fill each of the peppers until heaping with rice and tomato mixture.  This recipe makes enough for about 6 medium-sized peppers, and the rice mixture also is very tasty on its own.

-       Place filled peppers, standing up, in the baking dish, and add remaining chicken broth (or better yet, white wine).  Cover the dish with aluminum foil.

-       Bake for 30-35 minutes.  Remove peppers from the oven, and turn on the broiler.  Put remaining cheese on each pepper, then place under the broiler until browned and bubbling.

Chopped Salad

Sometimes, I steal recipes.  This can happen in a completely innocent way.  For example, I may be perusing a cookbook or cooking magazine in a bookstore, and I stumble upon an enticing photograph or recipe.  The idea may simply stick with me, and lead to my own version of the aforementioned image, visual or verbal.  My previous post is prime example of this borrowed creativity.  I saw an idea that I liked, and put my own spin on it.  Other times, it is a little more malicious.  I might, say, take a picture of a photograph, or quickly type up a note on my phone, documenting a simplified version of a printed recipe.  Admittedly, this is sort of awful of me. 

This past weekend, I engaged in the latter type of activity.  I saw a recipe for the loveliest chopped salad, with two types of cabbage, fennel, olives, chicken, and an oregano vinaigrette.  Hunkered down on the floor of Barnes and Noble, tucked in an unassuming aisle, I jotted down a list of ingredients on my phone, and a few notes on the vinaigrette, while occasionally taking a nervous glance over my shoulder.  “I will make it my own,” I told myself, trying to rationalize my inappropriate behavior.  I had spent over an hour looking at the cookbook from which I stole the recipe.  There were quite a few additional recipes that caught my eye, but I only stole one.  Later that evening, I found myself wishing my notes on the vinaigrette were more thorough, but I figured that served me right, and I was not even feeling the proper kind of remorse, given the crime. 

The next day, I went back to Barnes and Noble on an unrelated errand.  As I was getting ready to leave my apartment, I suddenly realized I would get another opportunity to take a look at the now fuzzy vinaigrette assembly; I found myself involuntarily picking up the pace in excitement over spending a little more time with the cookbook.  I took care of my first task; I immediately sidled up to the cookbook section, and then blew another hour sitting cross-legged on the floor, with the cookbook nestled in my lap.  I suddenly heard a voice in my head, saying “BUY THE COOKBOOK.”  It was as if I became Pluto in an old Disney cartoon, and a mini-me angel tapped me on the shoulder, guiding me towards the right thing.  And I am now engaging in a bold-faced confession, hoping that it will entitle me to blog about the recipe with a (sort of) clean conscience.

Seriously though, in spite of my questionable moral compass, this chopped salad is very tasty.  I am not a big salad eater; they tend to be too crunchy and not rich or savory enough.  With that being said, I’ve got to hand it to Jeanne Kelley, author of SaladFor Dinner because her book truly lives up to its title.  She takes a genre of food known for leaving diners wanting more, and renders it worthy of calling it a satisfying dinner.  Her recipes, categorized by their protein, are all well-rounded, full flavored, and filling meals.  Granted I have only made this Chopped Salad, but I can tell that there are quite a few other recipes that will live up to its prowess.

Now about this Chopped Salad… it’s utterly divine.  Crunchy green and red cabbage, sweet fennel, and red onion are offset by the heartiness of plenty of shredded chicken breast, all kissed with a bright Oregano Vinaigrette.  This strong foundation is then highlighted by a wide array of salty, savory morsels, that elevate it from a glorified slaw into a balanced and thoughtful main dish.  Briny green olives and peppery parley leaves run throughout the salad.  And as if that weren’t enough, the salad is then garnished with feta and prosciutto (I know, it makes me swoon, too). 

When I initially read the recipe, I thought, “Why green olives?  Why not Kalamata?”  Shopping for the meal, I even paused at the olive bar, eyes darting between the bins of green Mt. Athos olives and Kalamata, questioning what I felt to be an otherwise brilliant recipe.  I made a last minute swerve to the left, and counted out my 10 green olives, upped from Kelley’s six.  I’m willing to defend my choice on this particular judgment call, but I have to say that the Kalamatas would have been a grave mistake.  The color and the firm texture alone make green olives worth their salt in this context, and I think the brinier, milder flavor is the perfect compliment.  As for the prosciutto and feta, I’m pretty sure those two ingredients speak for themselves, and  they truly yield a whole that is greater than the sum of its parts. 

Another strong selling point for the delectable Chopped Salad is that is one of the few in the history of salads that actually holds up as a decent leftover, and that is because it made with cabbage instead of lettuce or baby greens.  Tossed in dressing, it retained its immaculate crunch over a couple of days, only deepening in flavor.  I kept the prosciutto and feta separate (they were a garnish, after all).  Please note, I did not add any salt to this recipe, besides in the preparation of the dressing and the chicken.  The smorgasbord of salty flavors is adequate without actually salting the dish.  My favorite salty element?  The prosciutto, no question.  The sweet, meaty flavor and toothsome texture definitely add a certain “je ne sais quoi,” and the color is the icing on the cake.  The recipe written below is true to how I made it, including a few minor tweaks that veered slightly from the original text; however, I stuck to Kelley’s overall vision because she gave me no reason not to. 

Chopped Salad (slightly adapted from Jean Kelley’s Salad forDinner):

Serves 4

3-4 cups very thinly sliced green cabbage

2-3 cups very thinly sliced red cabbage

12 ounces shredded cooked chicken breast (cooked in the same way at the previous post)

1 fennel bulb, trimmed and very thinly sliced (about 1 cup)

1/4 cup red onion, very thinly sliced, tossed with a few tablespoons of fresh lemon juice

1/2 cup fresh Italian parsley leaves

10 good quality green olives, pitted and chopped

3 ounces thinly sliced prosciutto, torn into pieces

4 ounces feta, crumbled

Oregano Vinaigrette

3 tablespoons red wine vinegar

1 tablespoon fresh lemon juice

1 teaspoon dried oregano, crumbled

2 teaspoons Dijon mustard

1/4 teaspoon kosher salt

1/8 teaspoon crushed red pepper

1 garlic clove, lightly smashed

1/3 cup extra virgin olive oil

Whisk all ingredients for vinaigrette together except oil and garlic.  Gradually whisk in oil.  Add garlic clove, and allow dressing to sit for 30 minutes.  Allow garlic clove to continue sitting in dressing, but don't eat it.

In a large bowl, combine both cabbages, fennel, onion, parsley, olives, and chicken.  Add enough Oregano Vinaigrette to lightly coat, and toss well.  

Divide salad on dinner plates and garnish with prosciutto and feta, and an additional drizzle of vinaigrette and freshly ground black pepper.

Kale and Chicken Enchilada Lasagna

Hey, everyone, I wrote a blog post!  I cannot explain my absence any better than my sudden return, nor can I promise that I will start posting again regularly.  I will, however, say that I am interested again.  I was tired of it for a long time.  Perhaps, that was due to a stale creative process, or my own fabricated pressures to post regularly.  Lately, I am enjoying cooking, making some tasty food, and I would like document it more often, even if it is solely for my own reference when I cannot come up with something enticing to cook.  We all have to eat, right?  It’s true, and for some of us, it’s more than others (namely, my glutinous self). 

I was talking to my cousin on the phone last Monday afternoon, while perusing cookbooks in local cooking store, and I found a ridiculously trendy kale cookbook.  Kale is so outrageously trendy; being the contrarian that I am, I would love to declare that I despise it, but I can make no so such statement.  It is such a fantastic vegetable.  It can pleasantly beef up the vegetable quotient of nearly any dish.  Unlike spinach, for example, it is difficult to overcook, and it doesn’t have that vicious, gum-gripping, tannic quality.  It can be braised, roasted, sautéed, or it can stud your favorite soup, and it simply tastes delicious.  My taste buds tend to veer more towards heavy cream rather than vegetables, so you know if I’m singing the praises of its favor profile, it must be good. 

Anyway, while idly thumbing cookbook pages, I found a recipe for kale and chicken enchiladas.  To be clear, I am using the term “enchiladas” loosely; these are by no means authentic.  In fact, they are not even authentic to the original recipe; not only did I veer wildly off course when I made them initially, but I have now reworked several renditions of my initial swerve from the published recipe.  It now resembles a sort of pseudo-Mexican lasagna, with corn tortillas acting as pasta, and store-bought green chile instead of red sauce.  It is delicious and satisfying, and possibly even healthy.  

There is, of course, cheese within the depths of this dish.  (Sidenote: I recently went on a random and ill-advised bout of cheeseless-ness. In other words, I was completely dairy-free for about 3 weeks.  I am relieved to say that I felt terrible, and I was able to bring cheese back into my diet, with a feeling of belonging and destiny. Needless to say, my love affair with cheese is back on track, if in a slightly more moderate format.)  The cheese in this meal is pivotal, but overall I think it is fairly healthy.  I used a combination of smoked Gouda, and a cheddar-gruyere conglomerate I found at Trader Joe’s.  Smoked Gouda doesn’t melt well, but I think the flavor is worth it.  High-quality white cheddar would be more than adequate as a substitute for both cheeses (this is what I used in my first version). 

In its evolved stated (compared to the original recipe), this layered enchilada masterpiece revolves around a mixture of kale, onion, tomatoes, and chicken breast.  This is layered with tortillas and cheese.  Instead of enchilada sauce, I decided to make it a little more interesting (but just as easy) by employing some medium heat 505 Green Chile in its place.  In case you aren’t familiar with this product, it is fabulous.  It is spicy, hearty, vegetarian, and nowhere near the calorie-laden, artery-clogging mess that you might think.  In fact, the entire 16 oz. jar has less than 100 calories.  Initially, I made this as rolled enchiladas, but corn tortillas crack so easily that I reformatted it to something layered.  Why do my corn tortillas crack?  Are they simply not fresh? Am I doing something wrong?  Is it karmic retribution?  I’m not sure, but I do know they are so flavorful that changing the presentation of the dish seemed the best solution, as opposed to subbing them out for their mild-mannered cousin, the flour tortilla.  Every time I open a bag of corn tortillas, the aroma overwhelms me.  When I think of super flavorful foods, fresh corn does not immediately spring to mind; however, this bland starch transforms into a different species when plied into a tortilla.  This dinner was delightful, and as all dishes must be in the psycho kitchen, it yielded abundant and delicious leftovers. 

Kale and Chicken Enchilada Bake

2 boneless skinless chicken breasts

Olive oil

Garlic salt

Seasoning salt

Kosher salt

Freshly ground black pepper

1 teaspoon oregano

1 onion, diced

4 garlic cloves, minced

1 serrano pepper, ribs and seeds removed, minced

1-14 oz. can diced tomatoes

1 bunch of kale, ribs removed and chopped

1/2 cup chicken stock

1 jar medium heat 505 Green Chile

3/4 cup smoked Gouda

3/4 cup white cheddar or cheddar-gruyere mix

9 small corn tortillas

Preheat oven to 400 degrees.  Lightly coat chicken breasts in olive oil and season with seasoning salt, garlic salt, and pepper.  Bake for 20-25 minutes, then set aside.  Thinly slice when cooled.  Reduce heat to 350.

Heat a tablespoon of olive oil in large skillet over medium heat.  Saute onion, chile pepper, and garlic, seasoned with salt and pepper, for 10-15 minutes until translucent and soft.

Add chopped kale, 1/2 cup chicken stock, and tomatoes with juice.  Season with salt, pepper, and oregano.  Stir until kale is wilted slightly, then add chicken.  Turn off heat and stir to combine.

In a greased 9x13 pan, spread out 1/2-3/4 cup green chile.  Then top with 3 small corn tortillas, tearing into smaller pieces to create one layer.  Then top with half of the kale mixture, and half of the cheese.  Top with 3 more tortillas, and more green chile.  Add remaining kale mixture, and 3 more tortillas.  Top with additional green chile and cheese. 

Bake for 25-30 minutes at 350, or until hot and bubbly.  Let rest for 15 minutes before serving.

Spinach and Artichoke Mac and Cheese with Bacon

 

I do not find mac and cheese boring.  Not at all.  I love cheese, and I love pasta, and I love the comforting, creamy, and ultimately benign flavor and texture profile of mac and cheese.  But some people might find it boring, bite after creamy bite.  If you happen to be one of these people, but you still enjoy cheese and pasta, this is the recipe for you.  I think the title essentially speaks for itself: Spinach and Artichoke Mac and Cheese with Bacon.  Despite the fact that it is loaded with spinach, I am not going to try to sell you on it being healthy.  It is most certainly not.  It is loaded with cheese, and peppered with bacon.  However, I will say that I think this recipe would be a great candidate for whole wheat pasta; however that still won’t make it healthy.  So, if you are counting calories, either stop that nonsense, or close your web browser.

This is a pretty basic mac and cheese recipe (roux-based béchamel sauce, melted cheese, pasta), but the flavor gets elevated by shallots and a little garlic, as well as some nutmeg, the meatiness of bacon, and the heft of the spinach and artichokes.  This recipe is very user friendly: it calls for frozen spinach and canned artichokes.  No blanching, chopping, and scrapping out furry chokes required.  I will say that you should not under any circumstances rush while you are draining the spinach.  Squeeze it, squeeze it, then squeeze it some more.  Nothing is worse than watery frozen spinach (is anyone else gagging, or is that just me?).  The cheese selection in this recipe is a perfectly balanced combination of Monterey jack and parmesan.  Jack is creamy and mild, and melts languidly into the sauce; the parmesan adds a lip-smacking savory quality.  And the best part is that they are used in equal amounts.  Parmesan cheese is a common addition to mac and cheese, but not usually in this quantity, which allows it to really assert its presence.  The other great thing about this recipe is that is it broiled, rather than baked.  Personally, I think baking macaroni and cheese is playing with fire.  First you slave over your cheese sauce, coming up with the perfect consistency, and then you let it mingle in a hot oven for 45 minutes, which completely changes the texture, often to a more grainy consistency, rather than its original unctuous luxuriousness.  So, my suggestion, is to generously top that sucker with shredded cheese, and throw it under the broil (observing with a hawk’s watchfulness so it doesn’t burn, and possibly rotating it every minute or so), which will allow for a golden, melted top, while maintaining the creamy, saucy interior.      

Spinach and Artichoke Mac and Cheese with Bacon (adapted from Taste and Tell):

Yields 6-8 servings

1 pound penne pasta

4-5 slices bacon, chopped
1 tablespoon olive oil
4 shallots, diced
3 cloves garlic, minced
2 tablespoons all-purpose flour
3/4 cup chicken broth
3 cups milk
1 (10-ounce) package frozen chopped spinach, defrosted and drained thoroughly
1 (14-ounce) can artichoke hearts, chopped
¼ teaspoon ground nutmeg
¼ teaspoon hot chile flakes
Kosher salt and freshly ground black pepper, to taste
1 1/2 cups shredded Monterey jack, divided
1 1/2 cups grated Parmesan, divided

 

-          Preheat the broiler. Coat 9x13 baking dish with nonstick spray.

-          In a large pot of boiling salted water, cook pasta about 2 minutes less than the package directions call for; drain well.

-          Heat a large skillet over medium high heat. Add the bacon and cook until brown and crispy, about 6-8 minutes. Reserve 1 tablespoon of bacon drippings.  Transfer to a paper towel-lined plate; set aside.

-          Heat olive oil and bacon drippings in a medium pot over medium low heat. Add the shallot; season with a pinch of salt, freshly ground pepper, and chile flakes.  Cook until it has softened and is translucent (about 4-5 minutes).  Add garlic and cook for one minute.

-          Whisk in the flour until lightly browned, about 1-2 minutes. Gradually whisk in the chicken broth and cook, whisking constantly, until incorporated, about 1-2 minutes. Stir in the milk and nutmeg and, while whisking, bring to a simmer. Add the spinach and artichokes, and stir until the sauce has thickened and the vegetables are heated through, about 2-3 minutes; season with salt and pepper, to taste. Stir in 1 cup Monterey jack and 1 cup Parmesan until smooth, about 1-2 minutes.

-          Stir in the penne and bacon.  Turn on a low flame if necessary to get all of the ingredients heated through.

-          Spread the penne mixture into the prepared baking dish. Sprinkle with remaining pepper jack and Parmesan.

-          Place into oven and broil for 3-4 minutes, or until golden brown.  Serve immediately.

 

3-Cheese Grilled Cheese with Basil

I am currently in Detroit at my parents’ home, whose well-stocked refrigerator and pantry allows me to dabble to my heart’s content.  Today’s experiment: a truffle scented grilled cheese sandwich with fresh basil on olive bread.  The truffle aspect probably makes my parents sound a little snootier than they are in reality; however, they are very passionate about food (they prefer both quantity and quality).  My mom and I were in the grocery store the other day, and she pointed out a small package of truffle butter as we were walking through the dairy isle.  She said “we have some of that at home; dad and I like to put it on popcorn sometimes, like Ina Garten.”  My mom likes to buy different varietals of popcorn at the Detroit farmer’s market, and she pops it on the stove.  My dad hovers near by, watching her in awe, and then scoops popcorn into his mouth by the handful, eating happily and peppering the floor with the evidence.  In a nutshell, they love food, and obviously the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.

So I took advantage of their beautiful kitchen and food supply one lazy afternoon during my trip home.  I started by splicing shards of cheese off a large block of Jarlberg that was loitering in the fridge.  I crumbled some feta, and gathered a small pile of shredded Parmesan on a plate.  I set all the cheese aside to allow it to come to room temperature for a deluxe grilled cheese sandwich.  I then removed a clump of basil from the bushy plant on my parents’ front porch, and buttered both sides of two pieces of bread studded with Greek olives.  Why butter both sides? Because the outside required butter for browning, and the inside received a delicate layer of truffle butter for flavor.  I let all of my ingredients come to room temperature before layering them together to compose my beautiful sandwich.  While I waited for my ingredients to lose their chill, I had the perfect pocket of time to cut up this beautiful watermelon.

I finally cooked my sandwich in a small sauté pan over a very low heat.  When it reached the ideal state of golden brown, with cheese beginning to bulge from the sides, I let it rest on the rack of the toaster over (no heat).  This allowed the molten cheese to settle (and to protect your mouth from burns), without the bread getting soggy on one side.  In a few minutes it was ready for a swift diagonal cut in half, which was the final step before my mom and I devoured it.  It was delicious and ridiculously decadent.  The flavor of the truffle butter may have gotten lost in the richness; however, the basil makes a huge difference, waking up the whole sandwich and cutting through any excess richness and saltiness. 

Simple Mushroom Pasta

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!

Zucchini Pasta

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.