Thank Heavens

One could feel a collective sigh of relief in the neighborhood this week as fall FINALLY wandered in a month late. I overheard someone on the bus say that it was incredible that a person could get both heat stroke (yikes! Can you say Chicago Marathon?!) and frostbite within a week in the same city.

I’ve been a frustrated cook for the past month or so – my CSA box keeps delivering squash and apples and gorgeous autumn veg and I can’t stand to turn on the stove or oven. The calendar says I should be making roasted vegetables and meat braises and yet every single air conditioner is on full blast. So you can imagine the minute I felt a chill in the air on Tuesday morning, my mind was racing ahead and plotting dinner.

There was going to be some roasted squash for sure. We’ve had a variety of squash sitting on the counter for several weeks, crying for attention and there’s nothing easier. Halve the squash, brush with olive oil and sprinkle with salt and pepper…thirty to forty minutes in a hot (400 degrees) oven and you have gorgeous, caramelized, meltingly tasty flavors of autumn.



And, there was going to be chicken. On the bone. Don’t ask me why, but I crave it every so often. You may think I am anti-chicken but that’s not completely true. I’ve always enjoyed gnawing on a piece of bone-in chicken, especially if it has been grilled and smothered in BBQ sauce. Yum.

The craving required a good sauce for the chicken, and I turned to my beloved Cooking Nerds for advice.

There it was. On page 322. Exactly what I felt like eating. Pan-Roasted Chicken Breasts with Sage-Vermouth Sauce. The basic recipe is stellar and is going to be part of my repertoire forever. You sear the chicken pieces in an ovenproof skillet on the stovetop, and then throw the whole thing in the oven to finish. Once the chicken is cooked, use the accumulated bits and drippings in the pan to create the most incredibly flavorful sauce. I changed things up a bit on the sauce ingredients, since I never have any fresh sage in the house (shocking, I know...) and thought white wine sounded nice in place of vermouth.

Steve arrived home moments after I had put the pan in the oven and noted that the house smelled wonderful. Outside our front door the enticingly hearty aroma of seared beef hovered in the hallway. Turns out, as I compared happy kitchen notes the next day, our neighbors downstairs were making fajitas. They were planning for chili next and we were all giddy at the prospect of cold weather cooking. Welcome fall!



Pan-Roasted Chicken Breasts with Shallot-White Wine Sauce
serves 4

Definitely go for the "quick-brine". It's only thirty minutes and the chicken ends up beautifully seasoned and perfectly moist.

CHICKEN
1/2 cup table (not kosher) salt, dissolved in 2 quarts of cold water
2 bone-in, skin-on chicken breasts, halved --poultry shears really help with this
2 bone-in, skin-on chicken thighs
Ground black pepper
1 teaspoon vegetable oil

SAUCE
1 large shallot, minced
3/4 cup low-sodium chicken broth
1/2 cup white wine
1 tablespoon dried herbs (I used a "parisian" mix a friend gave me...thyme, chives, dill and tarragon)
3 tablespoons unsalted butter, cut into 3 pieces
Salt & ground pepper

1. Immerse the chicken in the brine/saltwater and refrigerate for 30 minutes. Remove from brine, rinse under cold water and pat dry completely with paper towels. (Drying is key, so you can get a nice golden crisp crust.)

2. Adjust an oven rack to the lowest position and heat the oven to 450 degrees.

3. Heat the oil in a heavy-bottomed 12-inch ovenproof skillet over medium-high heat until beginning to smoke; swirl the skillet to coat with the oil. (It is REALLY important that the skillet is hot!!! Otherwise, chicken will stick. Let it preheat for a couple minutes.)
Brown the chicken, skin-side down, until deep golden, about 5 minutes; turn the chicken pieces and brown until golden on the second side, about 3 minutes longer.

4. Turn the chicken skin-side down again and place the skillet in the oven. Roast until the juices run clear when the chicken is cut with a paring knife or the thickest part of the breast registers 160 degrees on an instant-read thermometer, 15-18 minutes.

5. Using a potholder or oven mitt, remove the skillet from the oven and transfer the chicken to a platter, letting it rest while making the sauce. (If you skip making the sauce, although I don't know why you would, it's soooo good, let the chicken rest before serving anyway.)

DON'T FORGET -- HOT HOT HOT pan handle!! Use that mitt.

For the sauce:


6. Using your oven mitt, pour off most of the fat from the skillet; add the shallot, then set the skillet over medium-high heat and cook, stirring until the shallot is softened, just under 2 minutes. Add the chicken broth, white wine and herbs, increase the heat to high and simmer rapidly, scraping the skillet bottom with a wooden spoon to loosen the browned bits, until slightly thickened and reduced to about 3/4 cup -- about 5 minutes.

Pour the accumulated juices from the chicken platter into the skillet, reduce the heat to medium and whisk in the butter, once piece at a time, until incorporated.

Spoon the sauce around the chicken and serve immediately.

Deserted Kitchen

MY MY MY...it's been a nutty couple weeks. The pots and pans look neglected and the stove is silent...err, the HOOD is silent, actually. Those of you with commercial grade hoods know of what I speak.

First, there was a weekend on my own and the Indian food takeout place up the street was calling my name. Why can't I order just one thing from there? Maybe it's the beguiling trio of flavors that make up my favorite combo: dal, tandoori chicken tikka and raita. The cool, yogurty raita balancing the spice of the tandoori condiments all mixed with the zing of the dal. Delicious! I ate Indian food all weekend...two dinners and a lunch actually, and I was very happy.

Then a Cubs game on a warm and sunny picture-perfect afternoon. The Cubs won their final regular season home game and we walked home, our bellies full of Wrigley Field Jumble: hot dogs, pretzels, popcorn, nachos, beer, twistee-cone ice cream, oh...and some cotton candy.

A string of birthday dinners out followed after which I realized I had not cooked in days. A momentary breath of autumn blew through town. The air was crisp. I grabbed the opportunity to make a chicken soup. Um, the abundance of carrots accumulated over a couple week's worth of CSA boxes had something to do with it as well.



This soup is something of a miracle. In an hour-and-a-half, you get a rich golden stock that is unlike anything that comes from simmering chicken parts in a pot for hours.

I used to think that's what you did. You got a chicken. You cut it up and chucked it in a pot with cold water to cover. Then you simmered. And simmered. And simmered. The final result was a disappointingly watery, just-as-bland version of what comes in the familiar red & white Campbell's can. I've tried different recipes and the soup always turned out somewhat disappointing. For a while I made a version called New York Penicillin, from Molly O'Neill's New York Cookbook. Essentially, it was the above method, but included a turkey wing for some mysterious reason and no discernable difference in the results.

Then, The Cooking Nerds showed me a way to get gorgeous, intense stock in a relatively short amount of time. It is tremendous soup eaten in the moment -- with some sauteed carrot and celery -- and truly, it has healing properties. We make The Soup whenever either of us is feeling under the weather, and it has the amazing power to transform a sniffling, achy, feeling-sorry-for-themselves person into their original, cheerful, healthy self.

Perhaps it was a little early to be jumping into the chicken soup season, but it was that autumnal nudge I tell you. The crunchy leaves under foot, and paw...and, I figured I'd freeze some for risotto. (People, you simply would not BELIEVE the risotto to be made with this stock!)

The main thing with this recipe -- and it comes as a slight shock initially -- is that you toss the bones and meat from the chicken, after you've strained the soup. I know. It seems wasteful. I know, I know. I almost couldn't do it, the first time I made The Soup. But what you realize as you're looking at the gray, sad hacked up bits of chicken--because that is the TRUE SECRET of this broth...you hack the bird up into two inch bits--and you realize, there is nothing left. All the richness is in the broth. The meat and bones are entirely used up.

The heat has returned--nearly ninety degrees for the past few days--and I'm relieved we were lazy and left the window units in for a few more weeks. Too hot to cook, again...so we've been eating salad. But there is some liquid gold in our freezer just waiting for that next cold snap.

Some Notes:
The flavor comes from really hacking up the chicken into small pieces. And I mean small. It doesn't have to be precise, but for example, a drumstick or thigh should be in three, or even four pieces. I dream of getting a Chinese cleaver for this express purpose some day, but have yet go ahead and buy one. They seem intimidating.

You can also give this soup different twists, once you have your broth made. The recipe below is for a traditional chicken noodle soup.
Asian--add some shrimp, chopped cilantro, bean sprouts and hot peppers, sliced into thin strips
Spring--sauteed asparagus, leeks, carrots and sugar snap peas with some orzo



(Amazing) 90-minute Chicken Soup
adapted from Cook's Illustrated
Makes about 3 quarts, serving 6 to 8

1 tablespoon vegetable oil
1 whole chicken (about 4 pounds), breast removed, split, and reserved;
remaining chicken cut into 2-inch pieces
2 medium onions, cut into medium dice
3 quarts boiling water
Salt
2 bay leaves
1 large carrot, peeled and sliced 1/4 inch thick
1 celery stalk, sliced 1/4 inch thick
1/2 teaspoon dried thyme leaves
2 cups hearty, wide egg noodles
1/4 cup minced fresh parsley leaves
Ground black pepper

Browning chicken and onions:
1. Heat oil in a large soup kettle. When oil shimmers and starts to smoke, add chicken breast halves; saute until brown on both sides, about 5 minutes. Remove and set aside.

Add half of chopped onions to kettle; saute until colored and softened slightly, 2 to 3 minutes. Transfer to medium bowl; set aside.

Add half of chicken pieces; saute until no longer pink, 4 to 5 minutes. Transfer to the bowl with cooked onions. Saute remaining chicken pieces. Return onions and chicken pieces (excluding breasts) to kettle.

Reduce heat to low, cover, and simmer until chicken releases its juices, about 20 minutes. (This makes the house smell REALLY good.) **Good time to put the water on to boil in a separate pot.**

Remove the lid and increase the heat to high; add boiling water along with both breast halves, 2 teaspoons salt, and bay leaves. Return to simmer, then cover and barely simmer until chicken breasts are cooked and broth is rich and flavorful, about 20 minutes.

2. Remove chicken breasts from kettle; set aside. (This will be the meat that does end up in the soup.)
When cool enough to handle, remove skin, then remove meat and shred into bite-size pieces, discarding skin and bone.

Strain broth and discard bones and meat (it's all gray and sad). Let broth cool a bit and then skim fat, reserving 2 tablespoons for sauteeing your veggies.

3. Return soup kettle to medium-high heat. Add reserved chicken fat. Add remaining onions, along with carrot and celery. Sautee until softened, about 5 minutes. Add thyme, along with the broth and breast meat and simmer until vegetables are tender and flavors meld, about 15 minutes. Add noodles and cook until just tender, about 5 minutes. Sprinkle with parsley, taste for seasoning and serve. (This is where you can adjust ingredients for the Asian style soup, or the spring vegetable soup, etc...

Perfectly Plum

As you may already know, I don’t have terribly fond childhood memories of the Eastern European-style desserts that are my heritage. As opposed to the heavy tortes laden with liquor and nuts, I've always liked Things Baked With Plums. Maybe baking with plums is a Euro thing? I don't know. It just seems like you see plums being used more frequently in desserts there. Anyway, there was a kind of Plum Cake (a Kuchen really…) baked always with those pretty, dusky purple Italian plums. And plum dumplings, best eaten straight out of the oven. Once cool, they would become extra dense and the cornflake crumb coating would lose its crunch. (This always mystified me…how did this recipe evolve to include cornflake crumbs?) They were by no means “light”. When eating one of these dumplings, I always wanted to somehow avoid the dough part and get right to the meltingly juicy, purple-y plum center and I loved how the vivid juice would stain the surrounding dough.

Last week’s CSA box included a bunch of beautiful Mount Royal Italian prune plums. I ate one right out of the box and it was quite juicy making it an excellent candidate for a galette. I usually make a fruit galette with berries, but this was a perfect opportunity to try my own version of a Thing Baked With Plums.


The results were exactly what I had hoped for… a perfect combination of pastry and fruit. I’m absolutely wild about this crunchy, yet tender, pastry that is oh-so-easily made in a food processor. In this case, I used some leftover crème fraiche I had in the refrigerator (same thing as sour cream really). Whether you use sour cream or buttermilk or yogurt (I've tried all these variations and I think sour cream is best) I believe that the tangy creamy element is the secret to this wonderful crust. Then, I actually rolled out, and used, both rounds (the recipe makes enough for two) and made them on the thicker side. When baked, the plums release some of their fuchsia liquid and the folded up corners of the galette contain them beautifully.

Finally, what I thought was the greatest triumph...it was delicious cold, the next day.

The Dough:

3 tablespoons sour cream (or yogurt or buttermilk)

1/3 cup ice water

1 cup all-purpose flour

1/4 cup yellow cornmeal

1 teaspoon sugar

1/2 teaspoon salt

7 tablespoons cold unsalted butter, cut into 6 to 8 pieces



To make the dough in a food processor, stir the sour cream and 1/3 cup ice water together in a small bowl; set aside. 
Put the flour, cornmeal, sugar, and salt in the processor work bowl, fitted with the metal blade; pulse to combine. Drop the butter pieces into the bowl and pulse 8 to 10 times, or until the mixture is speckled with pieces of butter that vary in size from bread crumbs to peas. With the machine running, add the sour cream mixture and process just until the dough forms soft, moist curds.


Chill the Dough:

Remove the dough from the processor, divide it in half, and press each half into a disk. Wrap in plastic and chill for at least 2 hours. 
(Storing: The dough can be kept in the refrigerator for a day or two, or it can be wrapped airtight and frozen for a month. Thaw, still wrapped, in the refrigerator. It is convenient to roll the dough into rounds, place parchment between each round, and freeze them wrapped in plastic; this way, you'll need only about 20 minutes to defrost a round of dough at room temperature before it can be filled, folded into a galette and baked.)

The Filling:
1 1/2 cups quartered, or halved, Italian plums
1 tablespoon plus 1 teaspoon sugar

1 tablespoon honey

1 tablespoon cold unsalted butter



Position a rack in the lower thrid of the oven and preheat the oven to 400 F. Line a baking sheet with parchment paper.
Put the dough on a lightly floured work surface and roll it into an 8- to 10-inch circle that's about 1/4 inch thick. Since the dough is soft, you'll need to lift it now and then and toss some more flour under it and over the top. Roll up the dough around your rolling pin and transfer it to the prepared baking sheet.

Spread the plums over the dough, leaving a 2-inch border. Sprinkle 1 tablespoon of sugar over the fruit and drizzle with honey. Cut the butter into slivers and scatter it on top of the fruit. Fold the uncovered border of dough up over the filling, allowing the dough to pleat as you lift it up and work your way around the galette. Because you're folding a wide edge of dough onto a smaller part of the circle, it will pleat naturally--just go with it.) Dip a pastry brush in water, give the edge of the crust a light coating, and then sprinkle the crust with the remaining teaspoon of sugar.

Baking the Galette

Bake the galette for 35-40 minutes, or until the pastry is golden and crisp. Transfer baking sheet to a cooling rack for 10 minutes. Remove galette to cooling rack and serve warm or at room temperature, cutting the tart with a pizza wheel or sharp knife.

  Best eaten the day it is made.

Tomato Glutton

Oh the annual paean to The Tomato! I wonder… does any other fruit, or vegetable for that matter, achieve this much attention and such worship? So much is written about the glory of a summer tomato that I will humbly keep this short and offer you a couple of my favorite ways to eat them. The season for garden-ripe tomatoes is something I look forward to every year, and when they first begin to appear at the market, I simply can’t bear to cook them. Instead, I come home throw all the bags on the counter, root around to find the one with the tomatoes and then slice, sprinkle with salt and eat… while standing at the counter. Only after a few weeks am I willing to start cooking with them.

So, here we are in early September and I’ve been getting tomatoes in the CSA box for several weeks now. Call me crazy, but I supplement this with a weekly visit to my farmer’s market for a second batch of tomatoes each week. Hey. It’s a very small window of opportunity for a tomato lover, and I’ve got to make the most of it!

If you’re still in the I-Can’t-Get-My-Fill-of-Tomato-Salads period…here’s a beauty that I’ve been making for years. It’s from The Union Square Café Cookbook and it is both gorgeous and tasty. Can’t ask for much more than that! I make this regularly every summer, and it's unbelievable to me that it comes from a restaurant cookbook. I mean, where are the 48 steps? the obscure ingredients? the list of wacky kitchen equipment necessary to complete the recipe? (just so you know... the sight of the word chinois gives me a headache.) This is simplicity one can love.

Summer Tomato and Goat Cheese Salad
adapted from The Union Square Cafe Cookbook

(Servings are variable. One tomato glutton could, in theory, eat this whole thing...
or it could feed four, well-behaved people. Tomato varieties are also up to you...I like to mix it up a little with what I find at the market.)

2 red tomatoes -- go for that Brandywine you were eyeing at the market!
1 Green Zebra, if you can find it
1 yellow tomato
10-12, or a couple handfuls of grape/cherry yellow and red tomatoes
kosher salt & freshly ground pepper
1 small red onion, sliced thinly and soaked in ice water for 20 minutes (this works wonders at taking out the bite and crisping them up!)
12 basil leaves, thinly sliced into ribbons
5 oz. fresh soft goat cheese, crumbled
a drizzle of your best extra-virgin olive oil
a drizzle of balsamic vinegar, or red wine vinegar, if you prefer

Arrange the tomatoes on a platter, slicing the large ones into thin circles, and halving the small, cherry/grape tomatoes.
Season with salt & pepper to taste.
Drain the onions well and blot with a paper towel. Arrange over the tomatoes.
Sprinkle evenly with basil and crumbled goat cheese.
Drizzle with vinegar and oil.

Beautiful!



If you've moved on to the next stage of Tomato Gluttony and are willing to use a little heat, here are two of my favorite summer pasta recipes.



When faced with the prospect of hosting a meal in our overheated apartment in mid-August, a 'no-cook' sauce is, well, err, a no-brainer for me. A zesty mixture of tomatoes, olive oil, and, wait for it....brie cheese chunks (!) sits on the counter for a few hours, patiently waiting for some cooked linguine before serving. It's that easy. Pair it with some good Italian sausage, broiled or grilled, and you've got yourself a heavenly meal -- and minimal paper towel brow mopping. This version is from my original copy of The Silver Palate Cookbook, and it really is fantastic. Kids like it too. My four-year old nephew, Michael, wanted to know if this was "mac-and-cheese". I thought about it, and said, well, actually, yes, it is. He proceeded to demolish an enormous serving.

Summer Linguine with Tomatoes and Basil
adapted slightly from The Silver Palate Cookbook, original edition

4 ripe large tomatoes, cut into 1/2 inch cubes
1 pound Brie cheese, rind removed, torn into irregular pieces (put the cheese in the freezer for 10-15 minutes to make rind removal easier)
1 cup large fresh basil leaves, sliced into ribbons
2 garlic cloves, peeled and finely minced
1/2 cup olive oil
2 t. salt
1/2 t. freshly ground pepper
1 lb. dried linguine
freshly grated Parmesan cheese, approx. 1/4 cup

Combine the tomatoes, Brie, basil, garlic, olive oil, salt and pepper in a large pasta serving bowl, at least 2 hours before serving and set aside, covered, at room temperature.

Cook the linguine until tender but still firm, drain and immediately toss with the tomato sauce. Adjust pepper to taste, and toss with Parmesan cheese, to taste.


And, finally, my hero, Nigel Slater, roasts small grape or cherry tomatoes under the broiler until they're charred and blistered and oozing carmelized tomato goodness, before combining with pasta, basil and a dash of creme fraiche. This is one that I make sometimes in the winter when the little grape tomatoes from Florida show up at the store and I crave a bit of tomato sunshine.


Orecchiette with Roast Tomato and Basil Sauce
adapted from The Kitchen Diaries
serves 2-4

I got this book while in the UK so we're talking metric measurements and fun British ingredients. My copy is covered with notes and adjustments. In this dish he called for "double cream", and I've used creme fraiche as a replacement. Sigh...all those glorious British dairy products...

3-4 cups of cherry or grape tomatoes
4 fat cloves of garlic, sliced thinly
a drizzle of olive oil
1 lb. dried orecchiette
30 large basil leaves
4 tablespoons of creme fraiche
grated Parmesan or pecorino, to serve

Put the tomatoes and the slivered garlic in a roasting pan, drizzle with a little oil and place under the broiler. Leave them in until their skins are golden brown and black here and there and they are juicy and ready to burst.
As Nigel says...don't pussyfoot around here -- really let the tomatoes develop a good char... it will intensify the flavor.

Meanwhile, cook the pasta in a deep pan with generously salted water.

Remove the tomatoes from the broiler, and crush with a fork, skins and all. Drop in the basil leaves whole and stir to wilt. Add the creme fraiche, stir and taste for seasoning.
Eat straight away with a spoon or two of grated Parmesan or pecorino.

Sublime.

Italian Genius

The smell of a handful of fresh basil brings joy to my heart. Even the two or three small sprigs I buy in the dead of winter…you know the ones…they come in those horrible little plastic containers. I chop them into a chiffonade and scatter them on a pizza or that old standby, vodka pasta… and presto! The entire dish comes alive. Behold the Power of Basil!

So, when summer comes, and I spy those gigantic bunches of basil at my local farmer’s market, it’s like something lets loose. As with tomatoes, I wait all year to indulge my more gluttonous tendencies with basil. No parsimonious sprinkles here and there. When there’s an abundance of basil, it means it’s time for pesto.

Because I can’t help myself, I turned to my cookbook shelves and, using two hands, hoisted The Silver Spoon, aka the Italian version of Joy of Cooking, from the shelf. It weighs a ton and if I were to cook from it every day it would take a decade to make it through all the recipes. (we’re talking some 1,200 + pages.) Yet, I’m extremely fond of this book. It is lovable in its odd translations and puzzling quantities (maybe the metric conversions?). And, it begins with the preface, in giant bold letters: EATING IS A SERIOUS MATTER. I think I will make this my personal motto.

In the Primi Piatti (First Course) section was a recipe for Linguine with Genoese Pesto, alongside a stunningly gorgeous photo of a verdant green tangle of pasta with string beans and small chunks of potato. There were some yellow string beans and funky Italian green beans (flatter and wider than a regular string bean) in the fridge from the CSA box, so I figured, I’m in!

The genius of the recipe is this: you throw the beans, the pasta and the potatoes, which you’ve cut into the right-sized pieces all into boiling water, and when the pasta is done, so is everything else. Sort of a one-pot meal. Toss it all with the pesto you’ve whipped up in the food processor and you’ve got a replica of that gorgeous photo. If there is such a thing as summer comfort food…this is it. sigh… I’m known to fall hard for any recipe that is this easy.

Just for kicks, thought it might be nice to gild the lily and toss a few sauteed shrimp on top.



I used the entire batch on one pound of pasta, but if you choose to exercise restraint, the pesto will keep in the fridge in a small jar, with a thin layer of olive oil poured on top.
I have heard of people putting pesto into ice cube trays for freezing, and then having a ready supply throughout the winter. Whatever…that’s just never going to happen here…not with a pesto glutton around.



Linguine Al Pesto Genoese
Adapted from The Silver Spoon

Serves 4

1 lb. linguine
2 yellow boiling potatoes, peeled and cut into two-inch chunks
2-3 big handfuls of yellow or green string beans, trimmed

For the pesto:
2 cloves of garlic
2 cups of fresh basil leaves
2 tablespoons pine nuts or walnuts
¼ cup freshly grated Parmesan cheese
¼ cup freshly grated romano cheese
Approx. 1/3 cup extra virgin olive oil

Bring a big pot of salted water to a boil and add the pasta, beans and potatoes. Cook for approx 10 minutes, but start checking the pasta around 9 minutes, if you're using linguine.

While the pasta cooks, get out the food processor, and In the work bowl process basil, garlic and pine nuts until well-chopped. Add cheese and pulse 3-4 times. Then, with motor running, add the olive oil through the feed tube in a thin stream. Watch as the pesto starts to form, you may need to stop the machine and scrape the sides down and check the consistency. If you like it thicker, don’t use all the oil…thinner, use more.

Dinner and a movie

The Netflix pile sits, ignored. Nothing has moved in our “queue” in months and Steve is making lukewarm threats of canceling, or switching to only one dvd (horrors!). I’m not sure why, but I lose interest in all things video or television in the summer. It just feels right somehow. Maybe it’s a kind of vacation. Summer evenings should be for lazily flipping through magazines, turning the pages of a detective story or just drinking cold wine and enjoying the dusk.

Yet, the other night I felt like watching a movie. I was looking forward to an evening to myself and had made a stop at Fox & Obel to stock up on some delectable charcuterie—a favorite dinner option during dog days of summer—and their excellent bread. Was thinking that some sort of salad might be nice with the jamon Serrano and cheese I was drooling over, and we had the most beautiful yellow string beans in this weeks box. Now, I don’t know much about three-bean salads, except that they remind me of college dorm food – not good. What I came up with is a Two-Bean Salad, if you will…and it made for the most perfectly crunchy sidekick to my cold plate.



The movie…Children of Men was ehh. Gloomy and grim, I stopped it at about the halfway point, refilled my glass of chilled Sancerre and reached for the August issue of Vogue.



Two-Bean Salad
(enough for 4, or 2 with excellent leftovers)

1 lb. yellow, or green, string beans
1 can chickpeas, well-rinsed
1 small red onion, sliced
2 ribs celery, sliced
½ large red bell pepper, sliced
1 handful Italian flat-leaf parsley, chopped

Vinaigrette:
combine in a small jar with a lid (or, whisk together in a bowl)

2 tablespoons champagne vinegar
a squirt of lemon juice
4-5 tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil
salt & pepper to taste

Steam the string beans until just barely tender (I like them with a bit of crunch) and then blanch in bowl with ice water.
Drain, and pat dry. Combine beans with remaining ingredients in a large salad bowl, and then toss with vinaigrette.

Success & Failure

Wow. Who would have predicted Cookie Triumph again – this time with Peanut Butter cookies —and so soon after last month’s achievement of baking nirvana?

And, who would have guessed that just a few short days later, I would find myself peering, prodding and poking at a dismal mess in a pan…an Italian vegetable pancake gone awry.

Here’s how it unfolded…

This weekend, to satisfy a weeklong craving for peanut butter cookies, I found myself back in the kitchen, sigh…yes…firing up the oven, again. So, as the mixer whirred away, I thought, "what is up with this infatuation I have with good, old American-style cookies.

Desserts in my house, growing up, were of two styles. There were the typical heavy, Eastern European ‘fancy desserts’ my mother made for guests. These always seemed to involve ground nuts. And booze. Not exactly the sort of tastes a kid yearns for…
Then there were the store-bought desserts that made my brother and I wild with joy. Twinkies. Ho-Hos. Ding Dongs. YUM. When my aunt , bless her, would visit, she’d bring a box or two, just for us. They were everything the leaden-nut-and-rum-soaked tortes were not…light and fluffy with that sugary, chemical-tang we adored. There was also that period of time when my father spent time on an engineering project at Sara Lee, so he would come home in the evenings with boxes of delicious, frozen desserts from the factory outlet store: cheesecakes topped with strawberries (which I enjoyed barely thawed – like ice cream cake), dark chocolate cakes with thick frosting and dense, buttery pound cakes.

Typical, American cookies, were elusive. My school friends’ mothers would make the mysteriously named Toll-House Cookies. LOVED those. I was especially enamored with the notion of mothers stocking large ceramic jars, to be plundered at will when one came home from school. There was something lovely, warm-feeling and homey to me about the old-fashioned, classic cookies: oatmeal raisin, peanut butter, sugar and snickerdoodle.

So, that’s mainly what I find myself craving when I want something sweet. No whip-creamy or fancy-pants desserts here…I hunger for cookies, pies and cobblers instead.

My neighbor and I have been passing Dorie Greenspan’s book, Baking: From My Home to Yours—as well as the tasty results--back and forth between our two kitchens trying various recipes. Everything so far has been outstanding. So, given this penchant I seem to have for cookies, I figured I’d give the Peanut Butter Crisscrosses a try…

Oh my!!!!! Crunchy, almost-but-not-quite shortbread-like and delectably salty-and-sweet…they were amazing. It felt as if I had achieved some sort of baking pinnacle, and took every ounce of will power not to pull up a chair and eat half the batch in one sitting as they came out of the oven. The recipe called for rolling the dough in balls and tossing them in sugar before placing them on the baking sheet, giving the cookies an almost professional look. All I can say is wow.

So, okay, I was feeling plucky…
And, I’ve been yapping on about pancakes…
And, there was a pile of zucchini and summer squash from the CSA share sitting in the fridge.
And, I’ve been itching to try my hand at savory Italian Vegetable Pancakes, as suggested by Mark Bittman in the Times a few months ago.

Oooh, it seemed to be a good idea. I grated the squash and zucchini. (Is it me, or is summer squash kind of slimy?) Mixed them with eggs, parmesan and onion. (err, the batter seemed very wet…) Added bread crumbs. (hmm, still too wet…) Added flour. (A bad feeling about it…but, exasperated…I continued…) Dropped spoonfuls in hot oil. And then things went from bad, to worse. The gloppy, too-wet pancakes were burning on the exterior and remaining stubbornly soggy and uncooked in the center. Turning the pancakes was a wretched experience I won’t even go into, except to say it prompted a second attempt with a non-stick skillet. Disaster again. The Peanut Gallery (aka. Steve, between forkfuls of ragged, pancake scraps I kept dumping out of the pan) advised a thinner layer of batter. It just made thinner, scraps of ‘pancake’. Nothing worked. So, yesterday evening we ate the piles of tattered pancake with some cold grilled chicken and agreed they didn’t taste that bad, but there was something left to be desired with their appearance. It left me feeling glum.

Yet, today, writing this…I feel resolute. I will try to make vegetable pancakes again. You remember…I love pancakes and I feel there’s something good there.

Meanwhile, I think I'll comfort myself with another peanut butter cookie…



Note: It’s suggested not to use the freshly-ground, all-natural peanut butter here. Skippy Crunchy is what I used.

Peanut Butter Crisscrosses
adapted from Baking: From My Home to Yours by Dorie Greenspan
makes about 40 cookies

2 ½ cups all-purpose flour
1 teaspoon baking soda
½ teaspoon baking powder
¼ teaspoon salt
pinch of freshly grated nutmeg
2 sticks (8 ounces) unsalted butter, at room temperature
1 cup peanut butter—crunchy or smooth
1 cup (packed) light brown sugar
¾ cup sugar
2 large eggs
1 cup chopped salted peanuts (you can add an additional ½ cup if you want even more crunch – I was just out of peanuts)

About ½ cup sugar, for rolling

Position racks in oven to divide into thirds and preheat to 350 degrees. Line two baking sheets with parchment or silicone mats.

Whisk together the flour, baking soda, baking powder, salt and nutmeg.

Working with a stand mixer fitted with a paddle, or with a hand mixer in a large bowl, beat the butter on medium speed for a minute or two, until smooth and creamy. Add the peanut butter and beat for another minute. Add the sugars and beat for 3 minutes more. Add the eggs one at a time, beating for 1 minutes after each addition. Scrape down the sides and bottowm of the bowl and, on low speed, add the dry ingredients, mixing only until they just disappear. Mix in the chopped peanuts. You’ll have a soft, pliable (mushable, actually) dough.

Pour the ½ cup of sugar into a small bowl. Working with a level tablespoonful of dough for each cookie, roll the dough between your palms into balls and drop the balls, a couple at a time, into the sugar. Roll the balls around in the sugar to coat them, then place on the baking sheets, leaving 2 inches between them. Dip the tines of a fork in the sugar and press the tines against each ball first in one direction and then in a perpendicular direction—you should have a flattened round of dough with crisscross indentations.

Bake for about 12 minutes, rotating the sheets from top to bottom and front to back at the midway point. When done, the cookies will be lightly colored and still a little soft. Let the cookies sit on the sheets for a minute before transferring them to cooling racks with a wide metal spatula. Cool to room temperature

Repeat with remaining dough, making sure to cool the baking sheets between batches.

In Praise of Excellent Dinner Guests

So, after going on here about not using the oven very often in the summer…a couple of deliciously cool days swept into the city and inspired me to fire up my Hummer of a range for a small dinner with two dear friends, Michael and Didier.

Planning a dinner menu for these two is a delight and it got me to thinking about how there’s an extra joy in cooking for a certain type of dinner guest. It’s been said before, but bears repeating. Cooking for people is giving a gift. No doubt about it, to put together a multi-course meal is no small endeavor, but when the friends you’ve invited are charming, great conversationalists and exuberant gourmands all the preparation becomes worth it. The gift they bring us is a genuine sense of appreciation and joyfulness in getting together to share a meal.

Now, about the menu! First, there would be zucchini – a batch of handsome, compact summer squash had arrived as part of our weekly CSA box. Vichysoisse was also on my mind since I’m a fan of cold soups, and a perfect marriage of the two caught my eye as I leafed through a pile of cookbooks last week. Ina Garten’s Barefoot in Paris had a tempting recipe for Zucchini Vichysoisse. (I’m a sucker for a gorgeous photograph.)

At the fish market that morning, I’d boldly bypassed the halibut fillets, and the fancy King Salmon in favor of two gorgeous red snappers. Yes, everyone. Whole Fish. Yikes! Roasting whole fish has always been on my list of “things to do” yet, I find the idea intimidating for some reason. Yet the snapper was speaking to me, so I figured why not give it a try? (That’s the other beautiful thing about Excellent Dinner Guests. They are enthusiastic and supportive when presented with culinary experiments, which goes a long way in bolstering a cook’s confidence.)

For dessert on this, as it turned out, Bastille Day I decided on a tried-and-true favorite: a fruit galette. It’s one of many stellar recipes in Baking with Julia. This time of year you can’t go wrong with most fruit and I get giddy when contemplating the possibilities. The farmers market tables were laden with pints of ripe, fragrant raspberries and juicy blueberries. Perfect.

Sigh. I love when a menu falls together and has a kind of harmony.

The results? The soup was as tasty as it was refined. Ladled into chilled white soup bowls garnished with snipped chives, it was stunning. A sophisticated, elegant light green color with flecks of vegetables, perfumed by leeks… this was exactly what I wanted to eat on a summer evening. And, did I say it was a snap to make? I kept asking myself, “why don’t I make cold soup more often?”

The fish was quite dramatic. That afternoon I frantically flipped through cookbooks, and surfed Epicurious and Food Network, trying to figure out how to cook the fish. Wish I had seen Bea’s post on whole fish! The snapper was so beautiful, I wanted to do it justice. Ended up pulling different elements from an Epicurious recipe and The Zuni Café Cookbook. I roasted it in a super-hot oven, on a bed of Vidalia onions with handfuls of yellow and red grape tomatoes, all tossed with olive oil and chopped parsley. It was moist and bursting with flavor, and the veg turned into a languid, meltingly flavorful confit. I’d say it definitely had a Provencal quality.

And the galette? Well, not a single crumb was left when the four of us were finished with it. The crust is a cinch in the food processor – and actually makes enough for two galettes. I’ve saved the second bit to use in a savory version…maybe topped with some tomatoes and cheese.

A lovely dinner, if I do say so myself. Toasts were made, conversation sparkled and everyone was effusive about the food. (My tail wagged.) Cheers to excellent dinner guests!

Zucchini Vichysoisse
adapted from Barefoot in Paris
Note: I tweaked the quantities a tiny bit because I wanted the soup a little less thick.



1 tablespoon unsalted butter
1 tablespoon olive oil
4 cups chopped leeks, white and light green parts (wash them well!!)
4 cups chopped red boiling potatoes
3 cups chopped zucchini
1 3/4 quarts chicken broth
1 teaspoon kosher salt
1/2 teaspoon ground pepper
1/4 cup heavy cream
snipped fresh chives for garnish

Heat butter and oil in a large stockpot, add the leeks, and saute over medium-low for 5 minutes. Add the potatoes, zucchini, chicken stock, salt and pepper; bring to a boil; lower heat and simmer for 30 minutes.

Cool the liquid for 15 minutes or more before processing in a blender. (A food mill can also be used, but I don't have one.)
Add cream and season to taste. (This is SO important with cold soups!) Refrigerate for at least two hours.
Garnish with chopped chives, or zested ribbons of zucchini.


Roasted Whole Snapper
inspired by The Zuni Cafe Cookbook
for 2 servings



2 cups sliced Vidalia (or other super sweet variety) onions
Salt
About 1/2 cup extra-virgin olive oil
A handful of fresh flat-leaf parsley, coarsely chopped
1 whole red snapper (or, sea bream or black sea bass, about 1 1/2 to 1 3/4 pounds
1 1/2 cups (or couple handfuls) of red and yellow grape or cherry tomatoes (if larger, sliced in half)
About 1 tablespoon red wine vinegar or sherry vinegar

1 lemon, sliced
1 clove of garlic, sliced thinly
several branches of fresh thyme

Several hours in advance, season the onions and the fish:

Combine the onions with a few pinches of salt, enough olive oil to coat, and most of the parsley. Knead and toss until the onions begin to soften. Set aside at room termperature to continue softening.
(Attention: this mixture will make your mouth water, it is SO zesty and fragrant!!)

Rinse the fish under cold running water and pat dry with paper towels. If your fish guy has not already done so, make several parallel slashes on the thickest section of each side of the fish -- about halfway down to the bone. Sprinkle some kosher salt in the cavity and all over the outside of the fish, making sure to rub some salt in the slashes. Stuff the cavity with some lemon slices, the garlic and bunches of fresh thyme. Cover loosely and refrigerate until needed.

Cooking the fish:

Preheat the oven to 500 degrees, or as close as your oven can get.

Spreak the onion mixture in the gratin dish or ovenproof skillet you will use to roast the fish. Scatter the tomatoes over the onion mixture, reserving some to put on the fish.

Rub the fish thoroughly with a few spoonfuls of the olive oil and nestle it in the onions. Arrange some of the tomatoes on top of the fish, pressing them so they stick and release some juice. Season lightly with salt, and drizzle with more olive oil.

Place in the center of the oven and roast until just cooked through. Should take about 20 minutes, but this all depends on your oven, and your roasting pan, so keep an eye on it. The edges of the tomatoes and tips of the onions should brown.

While the fish is cooking, stire together about 1/4 cup olive oil, with the vinegar and the rest of the parsley. Salt to taste.

I served the fish on a platter, surrounded by the lovely roasted onion-tomato mixture. It was a little messy trying to slide a knife down along the bone, but I just did what I've seen waiters do so many times and the top fillet lifted up. Then I removed the exposed central bone out and served the two fillets below.

Spoon some onion mixture with each serving and top with spoonful of remaining vinaigrette.

Berry Galette
from Baking with Julia
serves four



The Dough:
3 tablespoons sour cream (or yogurt or buttermilk)
1/3 cup ice water
1 cup all-purpose flour
1/4 cup yellow cornmeal
1 teaspoon sugar
1/2 teaspoon salt
7 tablespoons cold unsalted butter, cut into 6 to 8 pieces

To make the dough in a food processor, stire the sourc cream and 1/3 cup ice water together in a small bowl; set aside.
Put the flour, cornmeal, sugar, and salt in the processor work bowl, fitted with the metal blade; pulse to combine. Drop the butter pieces into the bowl and pulse 8 to 10 times, or until the mixture is speckled with pieces of butter that vary in size from bread crumbs to peas. With the machine running, add the sour cream mixture and process just until the dough forms soft, moist curds.

Chill the Dough:
Remove the dough from the processor, divide it in half, and press each hafl into a disk. Wrap in plastic and chill for at least 2 hours.
(Storing: The dough can be kept in the refrigerator for a day or two, or it can be wrapped airtight and forzen for a month. Thaw, still wrapped, in the refrigerator. It is convenient to roll the dough into rounds, place parchment between each round, and freeze them wrappped in plastic; this way, you'll need only about 20 minutes to defrost a round of dough at room temperature before it can be filled, folded into a galette and baked.)

The Filling:
1 1/2 cups mixed fresh berries
1 tablespoon plus 1 teaspoon sugar
1 tablespoon honey
1 tablespoon cold unsalted butter

Position a rack in the lower thrid of the oven and preheat the oven to 400 F. Line a baking sheet with parchment paper.
Put the dough on a lightly floured work surface and roll it into an 11-inch circle that's about 1/8 inch thick. Since the dough is soft, you'll need to lift it now and then and toss some more flour under it and over the top. Roll up the dough around your rolling pin and transfer it to the prepared baking sheet.

Spread the berries over the dough, leavin a 2- to 3-inch border. Sprinkle 1 tablespoon of sugar over the fruit and drizzle with honey. Cut the butter into slivers and scatter it on top of th fruit. Fold the uncovered border of dough up over the filling, allowing the dough to pleat as you lift it up and work your way around the galette. Becasue you're folding a wide edge of dough onto a smaller part of the circle, it will pleat naturally--just go with it.) Dip a pastry brush in water, give the edge of the crust a liht coating, and then sprinkle the crust with the remaining teaspoon of sugar.


Baking the Galette
Bake the galette for 35-40 minutes, or until the pastry is golden and crisp. Transfer baking sheet to a cooling rack for 10 minutes. Remove galette to cooling rack and serve warm or at room temperature, cuttin gthe tart with a pizza wheel or sharp knife.

Best eaten the day it is made.

My Big Fat Breakfast

Oh the wonderful laziness of a holiday morning. Yes, the 4th fell right smack in the middle of the week this year… but a day off, is a Day Off! That means having time to linger in pajamas, savor a cup of coffee and then make a big breakfast. Marcia’s Law says that a “big breakfast” should somehow include pancakes.

I’m not really sure why I love pancakes so much. All I can tell you is that my affection for them has no bounds – potato pancakes, box-mix pancakes, Denny’s pancakes, Korean pancakes, any-kind-of-vegetable pancakes, puffy oven pancakes, Swedish pancakes, crepes, dhosas, Italian crespelle, palacinke, moo shu, ohmy I could go on and on, and I love them all!

But let’s talk here about the typical American breakfast pancake. Remember Aunt Jemima and Bisquick mix pancakes? These were a few of the very American foods my mother would make when I was a child and they formed a sort of ‘taste imprint’, resulting in a strong preference for boxed mixes, lasting well into my 20s. I’m a little embarrassed to say that I really did think that there was no other way to make pancakes. A friend once pointed out that he made them from scratch, which made me stare at him as if he had two heads. Like, with a bunch of separate ingredients? I mean, why? I continued to believe in the infinite superiority of Bisquick.

The pancake that converted me was an ethereal, melt-in-your-mouth delight I found years ago in The Breakfast Book, by Marion Cunningham. Oooooh here, in one charming small volume, were lovely recipes for things like Sticky Buns and Shirred Eggs, and yes, folks…an entire chapter on…pancakes!! I decided to give the Buttermilk Pancakes a try. Wow. They were a dream… light and perfectly fluffy. Fellow pancake lovers at my table clamored for me to ‘keep ‘em coming’! They even passed the ultimate minimalist pancake test: a sprinkle of powdered sugar and the squeeze of an orange made you want to gobble them by the pile. Forget maple syrup.

Yet, in the back of my mind, the memory of a sturdy, fat Bisquick pancake lingered. Just for kicks not long ago, I thought I’d try my favorite cooking nerds’ version from The New Best Recipe. This was the pancake of my youth! A cake-y, yet fluffy, pancake with a nice, tangy buttermilk flavor. The Best Recipe cakes stands up to syrup or preserves, and are truly stellar when strewn with my new favorite pancake topping: fresh berries and vanilla yogurt.

So, this past 4th of July morning, after I had perused the paper and had my coffee at a leisurely pace, I spied the pint of black raspberries from this week’s CSA share sitting on the counter, and thought… mmm, pancakes. Then, perhaps a second later, this next thought crept into my mind: maybe later this week I could convince Steve to go for moo shu…


NOTE: Both recipes stress the importance of not overmixing the batter – stir just enough to combine, and leave the lumps!

When you want a light, elegant pancake…these go beautifully with a drizzle of maple syrup, my powdered-sugar-squeeze-of-orange treatment, or any warmed jam or preserves.

Buttermilk Pancakes
from The Breakfast Book by Marion Cunningham
(makes about 14 3-inch pancakes)

1 cup buttermilk
1 egg, room temperature (this is key!)
3 tablespoons butter, melted
¾ cup all-purpose flour
½ teaspoon salt
1 teaspoon baking soda

(Heat oven to 200 F. to keep finished pancakes warm as you are working through the batch.)

Stir buttermilk, egg and melted butter in a mixing bowl until smooth and blended.

Stir flour, salt and baking soda together in a small bowl and then add to the buttermilk mixture, stirring only until the dry ingredients are moistened – leave the lumps!

Pre-heat a skillet or griddle to medium hot. (This is important too…you want a hot surface.) Grease lightly and spoon out about 3 tablespoons of batter per pancake. Spread the batter with the back of the spoon so it is thinned out a little. Cook until a few bubbles break on top. Turn the pancakes over and cook briefly.

For a fluffy-yet-sturdy, tangy pancake…these use buttermilk, or milk mixed with lemon juice as an alternative).

Light and Fluffy Pancakes
from The New Best Recipe by The Editors of Cook’s Illustrated

(makes about sixteen 4-inch pancakes)

2 cups buttermilk, (or 2 cups milk, whisked with 1 tablespoon lemon juice)
2 cups unbleached all-purpose flour
2 tablespoons sugar
2 teaspoons sugar
2 teaspoons baking powder
½ teaspoon baking soda
½ teaspoon salt
1 large egg
3 tablespoons unsalted butter, melted and cooled slightly
1-2 teaspoons vegetable oil


1. Whisk the flour, sugar, baking powder, baking soda, and salt in a medium bolw to combine.

2. Whisk the egg and melted butter into the milk until combined. Make a well in the center of the dry ingredients in the bowl; pour in the milk mixture and whisk very gently until just combined ( a few lumps should remain). Do not overmix.

3. Heat a non-stick skillet (or griddle) over medium heat for 3 to 5 minutes (they’re not kidding!); add 1 teaspoon of oil and brush to coat evenly. Pour ¼ cup batter leaving an inch or two between pancakes, and cook until large bubbles begin to appear, 11/2 to 2 minutes. Flip with a wide spatula and cook until golden brown on the second side.

La Famille d'Oignon

So as I was unloading this week's produce/CSA box on my counter I detected a theme...

the humble onion was enjoying the spotlight. There were lovely young red onions...more spring onions...(eek, more spring onions...I still have most of the bunch from last week!) and there were some space-age looking garlic scapes. umm, I only know the wacky, corkscrew thing-ys were scapes because the weekly CSA newsletter said so!!

The newsletter suggested using them just as you would use garlic, so I tried two approaches.

Chopped fresh, as garnish on some tortellini in gorgonzola cream sauce. Hmm...it was like eating raw garlic...perhaps a bit too pungent and sharp for my taste.

Round Two of Adventures with Scapes was very simple. I sauteed them with red pepper flakes and a little salt in some olive oil and then added washed and chopped kale. (sigh...yes, to finish off the remaining kale from two weeks ago...) This was terrific. It's a treatment I give broccoli rabe as well as ordinary broccoli. I think in Italian it is called "jumped" and it's a classic approach...you take a sturdy green and then "jump" it in a hot pan with olive oil, garlic and red pepper flakes. Sometimes you blanch the green vegetable, then squeeze it dry before adding to the hot pan. It's a tasty way to cook greens and it worked like a charm with the gorgeous, artsy scapes...and, the lingering kale.

The thing I stumbled upon once we sat down to eat was that I could push the "jumped kale" over into the White Bean Salad on my plate, and ta daaah...an idea is born...the most delicious tuscan-like bean salad. A sort of quirky variation on Tuscan Bean Soup! Recipe is below. (The thing I love about bean salads is I always have a can of some sort of bean in the pantry and they are open to endless interpretation!)

The baby red onions were absolutely perfect for roasting in the pan with a chicken, which is what I did. The beauty of a meltingly sweet and tender roasted onion reminded me of Orangette's lovely treatment of some shallots recently. The onion family is finally getting some proper attention! Not nearly as poetic, my onions were bathed in some of the drippings from the chicken roasting overhead, as well as a bit of white wine I'd added to the roasting pan.

Some of the spring onions also made their way into the bean salad.





Hooray...vive la famille d'Oignon!

Tuscan Bean and Kale Salad

1 can white cannellini beans, rinsed
1/2 red bell pepper, diced
1-2 green spring onions, chopped
2 T. fresh green parsley, chopped

Toss beans and vegetables with a Simple Mustard Vinaigrette.
I use this variation adapted from Michael Roberts' Parisian Home Cooking:

In a small glass jar with a lid:
1 small, minced shallot bulb
1 T. dijon mustard
3 T. red wine vinegar (I love O brand...Zinfandel Vinegar. It has great wine flavor.)
tiniest micro-pinch of salt (since mustard is salty, you can also omit adding salt)
Shake everything together, then
add 5 T. of extra virgin olive oil, or if you prefer a lighter taste, use grapeseed, peanut or canola oil.
Put lid back on and shake again, finishing off with a grind or two of pepper.

Add fresh herbs, chopped...a teaspoon or so, to really highlight whatever you're dressing...chervil is nice. I sometimes skip the shallot and use chopped chive instead.

Jumped Italian Kale

4-5 large leaves of kale, washed, the center tough rib removed and cut into 1/2 inch strips (kitchen shears are excellent with this!)
2-3 garlic scapes, or cloves of ordinary garlic, chopped
pinch of red pepper flakes
1/2 t. salt
2 T. olive oil
1/4 cup chicken stock
Optional: squeeze of lemon

Heat the garlic scapes, red pepper flakes and salt in the olive oil over medium-high heat, about one minute, keeping an eye on the garlic...it should just be coloring a bit. Slowly add handfuls of chopped kale and stir to wilt everything.
When all the kale is in, and has started to wilt, pour chicken stock over and cover. Cook for about five minutes until kale has softened, and then uncover. Cook another minute or two to evaporate whatever liquid is left. Off heat, add freshly ground pepper to taste, and then toss with the bean salad.
Add an optional squeeze of lemon juice after tossing everything together.

Frittata: Where Have You Been All My Life?

There was a whole bunch of excitement here yesterday...over a box of produce! (Ok, that's overstating it a bit. There was eager anticipation on my part, and puzzled amusement on Steve's...) The arrival of our first delivery from Home Grown Wisconsin , our weekly "share" of organic vegetables and fruit, which will continue through the end of October. The e-mailed newsletter arrived that morning, telling us what was in that week's box: spinach, arugula, scallions, kale (yikes!), lettuce, chives, strawberries, rhubarb and sunflower sprouts (?!). I thought it was a great selection, and immediately started plotting our dinner.

First stop had to be one of my favorite specialty markets anywhere...Paulina Meat Market. Paulina is a Chicago institution. I can't begin to describe the wonderful feeling of well-being that comes over me the moment I walk in the door there (could it be the delectable aroma of in-house smoked pork butts...?). The butchers have all been there forever and will offer sage advice on any recipe you may be planning to prepare. My friend, Susan, once described the comical professional frenzy she created at Paulina by bringing in a cookbook with diagrams of the roast she wanted to serve. These guys are pros and they take meat seriously. They also take sausage seriously, which brings me back to why I made plans to go...the Italian sausage levels in our freezer had dropped precipitously and had to be replenished...and I will state here, for the record, that Paulina makes the finest Italian sausage anywhere. I buy both types, 'mild/sweet' as well as 'hot', and keep them in the freezer. As one of the wonderful, classic-Chicago-guy butchers there told me..."It freezes beautifully!"
My belief is that there are not many recipes that are not elevated by the presence of great Italian sausage!

So, originally, I was thinking some sort of orcchiette with the sausage and maybe the spinach...but then I brought everything home and laid it out on the counter...


...so, yes, of course, the strawberries and the rhubarb. I'd make cobbler. That was easy.

But, folks...it was the kale that spoke to me. The silvery-green leaves beckoned...challenging me. I have never cooked with kale before so there was no time like the present.

I had great success with a potato-frittata-like tortilla a few months ago for a Spanish-themed dinner party. So I thought, why not combine the kale with the sausage (practically guaranteed winner!) and some sauteed onions, folded into a cheese/egg mixture in a kind of heartier version of the spanish tortilla? You basically sautee the elements you'll be folding into the eggs then cook, undisturbed on the stove until the bottom sets, and then finish in the oven. I crumbled and browned the sausage first, then added sliced onions to soften and turn golden and afer that the kale, since I figured I still wanted the leaves to be vibrant and green. The results were, in all modesty, superb! I've read everywhere that frittatas are genius for entertaining since you can serve them hot, room-temperature, or cold, and I'm pleased to report success with all options. (Breakfast this morning was a tasty wedge of cold frittata.)

My next plan is to try this as a batch of hors d'oeuvres. Why not pour tiny amounts of the frittata mixture into a mini-muffin pan for a perfect golden, eggy bite to go with a glass of wine before dinner?!

Next question was "why did it take me so long to discover the frittata?!" I have no answer really...but, regardless! I am ready to embrace this lovely new addition to my repertoire and promise to continue experimenting with whatever the week's veg box brings. Here's to kale...to frittatas...and to finding something new.



Kale Sausage Onion Frittata

2-3 large leaves of kale
1 medium sweet onion, sliced
1/2 lb. sweet italian sausage, removed from casing
1 T. olive oil
1 T. butter
5-6 eggs, beaten
1/2 cup grated Parmesan
salt/pepper to taste

Pre-heat oven to 350 degrees. In a non-stick omelette pan, brown the sausage over medium-high heat, crumbling with a fork. When sausage is beginning to brown, add sliced onion and olive oil. Lower the heat to medium-low and cook until onion is soft and golden. Add kale and sautee until wilted, but still green.

Meanwhile beat the eggs with the cheese and salt and pepper to taste.

Remove the kale-onion-sausage mixture and spread on a plate or pan to cool slightly.

Fold into the egg mixture. Melt butter in now-empty pan over medium heat. Add frittata mixture and turn down to medium-low. Cook for about 8-10 minutes, until the bottom is set. Move pan to oven to finish cooking, another 10 minutes or so, until top is set.

Serves 4, or two...with leftovers.