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.

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.

Grilled Tofu and Vegetables... And Sandwiches

I actually really enjoy tofu.  Truly.  I like it so much that I will eat cubes of it cold, straight from the package when I am cooking.  You may not believe me, but after perusing my other recipes, I think it will become quickly obvious that I am not trying to impress anyone with my healthy eating habits.  Sometimes, it’s nice to marinate some tofu and vegetables (bell peppers, zucchini, and cremini mushrooms), and get them on the grill.  They don’t require much time to marinate or grill, and they make for a virtuous, complete dinner when paired with some brown rice.  I let all grilled items take a 10-minute dip in a flavorful Asian marinade with soy sauce, garlic, sesame oil, and fresh limejuice to avoid any boring vegetable qualities. 

The key is to use a medium low heat, and spray the grill liberally with non-stick cooking spray (this will also lead to a delightful flare-up, which I’m sure is dangerous).  The bell peppers and the mushrooms take the longest to grill, so start there.  However, the tofu poses the greatest danger of sticking.  Grill the stout planks of tofu for about 3 minutes on one side, flip, and repeat.  When flipping them or removing them from the grill, give them a very gentle side-to-side shimmy until they release.  If they stick a little, don’t panic.  Simply proceed as planned, but then remove any pieces that stick and be sure to eat them.  They have sort of a bacony quality.

The best part of this meal was the leftovers.  And, to be honest, I designed this meal with the leftovers in mind.  For anyone out there who claims they dislike leftovers, I say you’re simply not putting enough thought into the use your leftovers.  Not everyone enjoys forkfuls of cold, sauced pasta; I’ll acknowledge that.  However, with a little thought put into your cooking, your leftovers can be a delicious wonder in their own right.  Case in point: grilled tofu and vegetable sandwiches.  I spiked some mayonnaise with limejuice and sriracha.  I then layered the leftover zucchini, grilled peppers, and tofu on some rosemary sourdough bread with some of my spicy, tart sauce, and enjoyed a very flavorful and satisfying sandwich.

Grilled Tofu and Vegetables

Juice of 1 lime

2 teaspoons honey

1 garlic clove, grated

3 tablespoons soy sauce

2 tablepsoons fish sauce

2 teaspoons toasted sesame oil

1 teaspoon sriracha

2 tablespoons rice wine vinegar

3 tablespoons canola oil (or other light colored oil)

1-2 zucchini, sliced in long planks

2 red bell peppers, sliced into “cheeks”

8-10 cremini mushrooms, stems trimmed

1 block of extra firm tofu

-       Cut tofu into 6 pieces.  Line a shallow, wide dish with a clean cloth napkin.  Lay tofu pieces in napkin and wrap the napkin over the tofu.  Place a heavy bottomed pot over the napkin and allow tofu to drain for 15-20 minutes.

-       Whisk together the first 9 ingredients for marinade, and prepare vegetable. In one or two wide dishes, lay all ingredients down and pour 3/4 of marinade over them.  Gently flip tofu and vegetables in marinade.

-       Preheat grill to medium, and then reduce heat to medium low just before adding food to the grill.

-       Cook bell peppers and mushrooms for 8-10 minutes total, or until tender.

-       Cook tofu and zucchini for 4-5 minutes total.

-       Serve with brown rice and drizzle with remaining marinade.

Roasted Red Pepper Salad

I have spent the last month cooking hamburgers on my grill, striving towards the perfectly cooked, medium burger.  Grilling is a delicate dance between timing and heat.  It takes just the right balance to achieve a moderate char on the outside and a juicy, pink inside.  No one wants a blue burger, or a hockey puck, and no one wants a burger with a gray exterior, no matter how perfectly pink it may be in the middle.  Apparently, I have a few more burgers to screw up before I manage to avoid all of these undesirable traits. 

Roasted red peppers seemed like an appropriate antidote to alleviate my grilling frustrations.  Roasting peppers is fairly foolproof, although it is definitely a labor of love.  It takes time and patience, but yields something delectable.  Store-bought roasted red peppers are perfectly fine, especially when used as an augmentative ingredient in pasta or a green salad.  However, when the peppers are headlining the event, it makes a notable difference to roast them yourself.  They are smoky, meaty, and sweet, with a soft, buttery texture.  If you have the time, it is actually fun, and largely uninvolved.  You simply put whole peppers on the grill until they are charred.  Then they steam together for a bit, and last they must be lovingly peeled.  Then they are ready for you to chow down.  If you are going to do it, do it with at least 4 peppers so that it is worth your while.

The salad I made was comprised of the smoky peppers, cut into strips, as well as every herb I have growing on my patio, with capers, kalamata olives, and a kiss of garlic.  I am particularly proud of my thriving herb pot because I attempted this last year, and it was a disaster.  My herbs were infested with earwigs, and then I refused to water them, and eventually I had a pot of dead herbs camped out on my patio.  My full, green plants are a sight for sore eyes.

Essentially, this salad is all things good in the world mixed in a bowl.  And if you were concerned that a few were missing, you could follow my example and serve a caprese salad and some bread along side.  I love a dinner like this on a hot summer night: cold, and vegetable-laden, yet still rich and satisfying.  With the leftovers, I chopped the salad roughly, and tossed it with hot rigatoni, extra basil, and fresh mozzarella.  Delicious.

Roasted Red Pepper Salad (based on Giada de Laurentiis’s recipe)

2 red bell peppers

1 orange bell pepper

1 yellow bell pepper

1 teaspoon chopped fresh thyme

2 tablespoons chopped fresh parsley

12 basil leaves, torn

1/3 cup kalamata olives, pitted and quartered

2 tablespoons capers

1/2 garlic clove, grated on a microplane

2-3 tablespoons extra virgin olive oil

1 teaspoon red wine vinegar

Kosher salt and freshly ground black pepper to taste

-       Preheat a grill to medium high for about 10 minutes

-       Place the peppers on the grill, and cook for 20-25 minutes.  Rotate every 5 minutes so that the skin of the pepper becomes evenly charred, and the whole pepper softens.

-       When charred, remove peppers from the grill and place in a large bowl.  Cover with plastic wrap and let sit for 10-15 minutes.

-       Next place peppers on a plate or cutting board to cool for an additional 10 minutes, or however long it takes for you to be able to handle the peppers.

-       Tear peppers open, remove stem and seeds and peel off all the skin.  It should be easy to remove.  If it is difficult to remove seeds, rinse the peppers gently.  Only do this when necessary and use water sparingly as it will rinse off the smoky flavor of the grill.

-       Cut the peppers into strips, and add all of the remaining ingredients, seasoning to taste.  Eat the salad as is, or with chicken, a caprese salad, bread, or however you’d like.  It’s also great as a condiment on a sandwich.

Braised Kale and Linguine

Confession: up until I made this recipe, I have had a fear of cooking kale.  I like kale, although I have not had many opportunities to eat it.  Obviously, it is a super trendy super food at the moment, but I have been paralyzed by fear around actually cooking it.  I have spent some time trying to concoct a kale-based recipe that I would feel comfortable cooking.  My foresight and thought have thus far been unproductive.  Lucky for me, a specific incident catapulted me out of my trepidation around kale into a place of genuine curiosity.  It was the kale display at Whole Foods: tall piles of Dino kale, red curly kale, green curly kale, tucked amidst mustard greens, and various types of chard.  It was so fresh, and beautiful, and leafy.  Since I laid eyes on it, I’m still trying to figure out where my intimidation came from.  After seeing this magnificent display of vegetation, I meditated on how I would use one of those meticulously wrapped bundles. 

I spent some time digging around on Foodgawker, and lemony, garlicky kale paired with silky strands of pasta seemed to be a pretty pervasive preparation.  Obviously, these are some of my favorite flavors, so it seemed like an appropriate initiation between me and kale.  I returned to Whole Foods and picked out the perfect bunch of red kale, and constructed the pasta dish below.  Why red kale?  I have no idea.  It was pretty; perhaps it should be called purple kale.  Most recipes I saw used green kale, so if I unwittingly committed some sort of kale faux pas, please let me know.

Overall, this recipe is pretty simple.  First, I gave it a rinse and tore leafy chunks off the stalk.  I never actually used a knife on the kale.  Then I sautéed some thinly sliced garlic in olive oil with a bit of red pepper flakes, until the garlic was fragrant.  Then I added the kale.  I needed a huge sauté pan, and the kale still barely fit before it wilted (the bunch was just under a pound).  I tossed the kale around in the oil to allow it to begin wilting, and then I added about a quarter cup of white wine and about a half cup of chicken stock. 

At this point, I added a sprinkle of salt and pepper, and a tiny bit of nutmeg.  Nutmeg is a new addition in my spice repertoire, and I love it.  Rachael Ray is always raving about nutmeg on dark greens, and although I don’t exactly revere her as a culinary god, she’s not wrong about everything.  The nutmeg added another peppery dimension that echoes, but does not mimic, black pepper.  It’s very fragrant and fills your nose with a warm, spicy smell, registering somewhere between savory and sweet.  Then I simply let the kale cook down for about 10 minutes.  I tossed it with fresh lemon juice, hot linguine, and some reserved pasta cooking water.  And topped the whole thing off with some Parmesan.  It was delicious and felt like I was doing something good for my body, which was necessary after a long series of immune-system-compromising events (e.g. concerts, spring break celebrations).  Kale will cure what ails you, even if the ailment is actually too much fun.

I made this pasta last Sunday, when my spring break was just starting, and now as I write, it is coming to a close.  (Sigh.)  As much as I would love for it to continue, I couldn’t be happier with how I’ve spent this last week: soaking up sunshine; taking a slew of new yoga classes; going a for beautiful road ride to Eldorado Springs; cooking; reading; writing; connecting with old friends and new.  It has been what spring break should be: rest, relaxation, rejuvenation, and fun.  I will have to figure out the perfect Sunday night dinner to bookend such a lovely week.  More on that later.

Braised Kale and Linguine (makes 2 generous servings)

1 bunch curly red kale, washed, stalk removed, torn into chunks

1/3 lb. linguine (approximately)

3 cloves garlic, thinly sliced

3 tablespoons olive oil

¼ teaspoon crushed red pepper flakes

¼ cup white wine

½ cup chicken stock

Kosher salt and pepper to taste

1/8 teaspoon ground nutmeg (4 tiny shakes from the container)

Juice from ½ lemon

Freshly grated Parmesan cheese

-       Put a large pot of water on the stove to boil for the pasta.  Meanwhile, prepare your kale: give it a good rinse and tear the leaves in chunks off the stalk and set aside.

-       In a large sauté pan, preheat olive oil over medium heat.  Add sliced garlic and hot pepper flakes to the oil.  Allow to sauté for 1 minute and add pasta to the boiling water with some salt.

-       Add the kale to the sauté pan (just shove it in there until it starts to wilt).  Gently stir it to begin distributing the olive oil on the kale.

-       Add the white wine, chicken stock, salt, pepper, and nutmeg.  Stir to combine and increase heat so that liquid begins to simmer.  Allow the kale to braise for about 10 minutes at medium heat.  If it’s done before the pasta, just turn off the heat and add the lemon juice.  Taste it for seasoning and add a generous amount of Parmesan.  Stir so the cheese begins to melt.

-       When the pasta is done, add it to the pan (I like to add it directly out of the pasta pot to the pan with tongs; otherwise reserve some pasta water, then drain it and add it to the pan).

-       Stir to combine adding additional seasoning, lemon juice, and cheese to taste.  If the mixture seems dry, add pasta water, a tablespoon or two at a time.  Garnish with a little more cheese and enjoy!

Spring Minestrone with Mini Chicken Meatballs

I saw this recipe in the April issue of Bon Appétit and immediately had to make it. Who can resist a teeny tiny meatball?  This soup is loaded with lovely spring flavors and vegetables.  It’s truly a perfect springtime recipe as it allows you to keep your foot in the door of two seasons simultaneously.  The carrots, leeks, and basil make the soup feel sunny and light; they are reminiscent of increasing day light and warmth; however, the steamy, brothy soup and the heartiness of the meatballs make good use of the lingering coolness.  Soon the mere idea of soup will be abhorrent to us as temperatures and humidity rises, so it’s best to take advantage of good soup-making conditions. 

I may be taking this analysis a bit far, but seriously, the soup is worth your while. This simple soup consists of tiny chicken meatballs floating in a broth amidst carrots, leeks, spinach, pasta, and garnished with Parmesan cheese and fresh basil.  The garnishes here are mandatory.  Making meatballs is so much fun, and these have a twist in that they are made with chicken breast and loaded with chives (and parmesan cheese, of course).  Usually, when meatballs are in soup, they are poached in the broth.  Here, they are first browned, and then finished in the broth.  This gives the meatballs more flavor because the meat is caramelized; this gives the soup more flavor because you make the soup in the same pot the meatballs are browned in, making good use of any lingering browned up meatball bits (it truly makes a big difference in the flavor, and allows for fewer dishes).  The browning of the meatballs will impact the pure spherical shape of the meatballs, but the increased flavor is worth this small aesthetic sacrifice.    

As this soup is called “minestrone,” it has pasta in it.  You could add an extra cup or two of water and cook the pasta directly in the soup.  Rather, I recommend cooking it in a small, separate pot and adding it to each bowl.  Pasta can absorb unpredictable amounts of liquid, and cooking the pasta in the soup may leave you without limited broth and mushy pasta in its absence.  This soup is a little labor intensive and is best for leisurely Sunday afternoon cooking.  Meatballs construction is time-consuming, but worthwhile process.

Spring Minestrone with Mini Chicken Meatballs (adapted from Bon Appétit Magazine, April 2012)

8 ounces ground chicken breast

½ cup breadcrumbs (I used panko)

6 tablespoons finely grated Parmesan, divided, plus more for garnish

3 garlic cloves, 1 grated, 2 thinly sliced

2 tablespoons chopped fresh chives

1 large egg, whisked to blend

Kosher salt, freshly ground pepper

2 tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil

2 leeks, white and pale-green parts only, sliced into 1/4" rounds

6 cups low-sodium chicken broth

½ cup stelline pasta, or other small pasta (elbow macaroni, ditalini)

1 ½ cups ½" rounds peeled carrots (4-5 small carrots)

1 cup (packed) baby spinach

Chopped fresh basil

-      Mix breadcrumbs, 3 tablespoons Parmesan, 1 grated garlic clove, chives, egg, ¾ teaspoon salt, and ¼ teaspoon pepper in a medium bowl.  Then add ground chicken and mix until combined.  Form into ½ inch diameter meatballs (makes about 28). (It may help to have a small bowl of water nearby to keep your fingers moist while forming the meatballs.  This reduces the sticky factor of the raw chicken)

-      Heat oil in a soup pot over medium heat. Cook meatballs until golden all over, about 3 minutes (they will finish cooking in soup). Transfer to a plate; set aside.  Make sure to do this in 2 batches so you don't crowd the pan.  (Also, resist the urge to eat those meatballs once they come out of the pot.  As delicious as they look, they're still raw in the middle.  I had to remind myself of this repeatedly.)

-      Meanwhile, bring a separate pot of water to boil and cook the pasta until al dente.  Drain and set aside.

-      Add leeks to pot and cook, stirring often, until beginning to soften, about 3 minutes. Add 2 thinly sliced garlic cloves; cook for 1 minute. Add broth and 1 cup water; bring to a boil. Stir in carrots; simmer until carrots begin to soften, about 5 minutes. Add meatballs; simmer until carrots are tender, and meatballs are cooked through, about 5-8 minutes. Add spinach and remaining 3 tablespoons Parmesan; stir until spinach is wilted and Parmesan is melted. Season with salt and pepper.

-      Ladle soup into bowls.  Add a couple of spoonfuls of pasta per bowl.  Garnish with chopped basil and Parmesan.

Roasted Broccoli

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).