February Culinary Smackdown: Madras Cabbage with Peas

Friends, welcome to this month's Culinary Smackdown: Battle Cabbage.  I decided I needed to make something special to prove that humble cabbage can be the star of a fantastic meal.  And so I made a dish that Tim and I have both been daydreaming about since we ate it last fall.

You may think that cabbage is simply a cruciferous vegetable only to be paired with vinegar (or cream), but I am going to stomp all over those assumptions and invite you down memory lane with me.  Tim and I ate dinner, pre-dietary restrictions, at New Krishna, our favorite Indian restaurant in Sharonville.  Since we dined in, we opted for the buffet, and each got a little scoop of just about everything.  To my surprise, Tim's favorite item was the Cabbage Masala.  It was a little spicy and aromatic and so different from the creamy curried tomato sauces that drenched most of the other options.  I loved it so much I would have been willing to loosen the top button of my jeans to eat a little more.  When else have I ever considered stuffing myself on cabbage?

I picked up some Madras Curry Powder last weekend at Colonel De and opted to use that instead of my usual garam masala.  The main difference in the two spice blends is that the Madras Curry Powder doesn't have cloves in it while the garam masala does.  Oh, and Madras Curry can be spicy--which we like very much.  Overall, it lightened up the aromatics of this dish, but the few whole cloves I threw into the hot oil were just enough for a hint of that flavor.

And so Madras Cabbage with Peas was reinvented for this home cook.  A skeptical Tim, who prefers a big slice of meat with the majority of his meals, was completely satisfied with my make-at-home version.  The beauty of this recipe is that you could use just about any vegetables you wanted.  If you decide to make this with potatoes, you will need to either pre-boil the potatoes or add some water to the pan and allow it to reduce.  I've done that before and you end up with a lovely sauce.  I also suggest chickpeas, cauliflower, or carrots to compliment the curry powder.

And in case you can't find Madras Curry Powder, you could always substitute Garam Masala (just don't add the whole cloves).  I've been able to find the latter at my local Indian grocery store.  Or, if you're inclined to make your own spice blends, the label of my Madras Curry Powder says that it contains (in the order of the label): coriander, cumin, peppercorns, black mustard seeds, chili, fenugreek, turmeric.  I am unsure of the amounts of each.

Madras Cabbage with Peas
serves 4 as main course, 6 as a side dish

Ingredients
2 tbsp canola oil

1/2 tsp yellow mustard seeds
1/4 tsp whole cloves
2-3 small yellow onions, peeled and sliced about 1/8 inch thick

1 to 1.5 lbs green cabbage, cored and sliced into long thin strips about 1/4 inch thick
2 tsp Madras Curry Powder
1 tsp turmeric
1/2 tsp red pepper flakes
salt & pepper

In a large saute pan, heat oil over medium heat.  Add mustard seeds and cloves until fragrant and slightly brown, about 3 minutes.  Add onion and cook until almost translucent, about 4 minutes.  Add cabbage to the pan and stir occasionally for 6-7 minutes, until cabbage has begun to wilt and even slightly brown.  Sprinkle curry powder, turmeric, and red pepper flakes over cabbage and stir.  Cook for an additional 5 minutes, until cabbage is just barely still firm yet easy to bite.  Adjust seasoning with salt and pepper.

Serve over rice or with flatbread.  (Maybe even gluten free naan?)

Please check out Grumpy Granny's Host Post for a round up of the entries and the announcement of the winner in a few days on her blog!

You Get a Bonus Day

I wish there had been a better time than the night before Valentine's day for me to get around to posting this recipe.  I'm afraid it will get lost in a sea of pink and red recipes and you will never get around to trying this for yourself.

But I urge you to take a stand:  pink food is appropriate 364 other days a year.  And since this year is a leap year, you get a bonus day.  Take that bonus day to treat yourself to Roasted Beet Risotto.

The process of making the risotto was simple enough, especially since I made the beet puree a few days in advance, though it did require standing next to the stove for a half an hour; a sacrifice that I'm willing to make when the payoff is this big.  And when I served it along side some of our favorite roasted chicken and a green salad, Tim thought maybe he had forgotten a special occassion.

Roasted Beet Risotto
recipe adapted slightly from Gourmet, November 2004
serves 6 to 8

Ingredients
3/4 cup to 1 cup roasted beet puree
4 cups chicken broth
2 cups water
1 small onion, diced
2 tbsp olive oil
2 cups Arborio or Jasmine rice
1/2 cup dry white wine
1 tbsp fresh thyme, chopped
salt & pepper

In a medium pot, bring broth and water to a simmer.  Cover and keep on low heat.

Heat olive oil in a large sauce pan or dutch oven over medium heat.  Add onion and cook until softened, stirring occasionally, until soft, about 3 minutes.  Add rice and cook, stirring constantly for 1 minute.

Add the wine and simmer, stirring constantly, until wine is absorbed.  Stir in 1 ladle (about 1/2 to 3/4 cup broth/water mixture) liquid and stir until liquid is absorbed.  Continue simmering, stirring, and adding liquid, 1 ladle at a time, allowing liquid to be absorbed before adding more, about 20 minutes, until rice is creamy and  just tender.  When there is about 2 ladles of liquid left, stir in fresh thyme.  Add another ladle of liquid and beet puree.

Salt and pepper to taste (about 1 tbsp kosher salt and 1/2 tbsp freshly ground black pepper).  Thin if necessary with remaining liquid.  Risotto should spread in the bowl or plate.  Serve hot.

The Extent of My Experience

In elementary school, we had to participate in the science fair as an assignment for class.   Science has never really been my strong suit; I was always better equipped to proofread a friend's book report than be someone's lab partner.  I'm okay with it, mostly because I am an excellent proofreader, but I remember envying classmates science fair entries.

My best friend project was paper that had flecks of real flower petals in them.  She did a demonstration for the class on how she made it.  It was amazing.  The purpose of her project was to show that our paper waste could be made into something new and special by recycling it.  My project felt silly in comparison.  I dyed muslin using different ingredients found in nature:  tea leaves for yellow, coffee grounds for brown, red cabbage for purple, and beets for red.  I had to boil my ingredients to extract the color so I couldn't do a live demonstration of the process.  I missed my opportunity to relate it to current events, social issues, environmental concerns, or anything that would make the understanding of dyes important for my classmates to know about.  I think my grade for that project was a B and I didn't win any awards in the fair. 

Between the science fair project and finding them pickled on the salad bar at a local restaurant, that was the extent of my experience with beets until adulthood.  Then they seemed to be everywhere--either finally it became chic to eat beets or I had only just starting noticing them.  I had a beautifully composed beet salad at the Brown Dog Cafe with my friend Sharon, and I was reminded that I do like their flavor.  They remind me of a savory carrot, with a deeper, earthier flavor that fills the mouth with each bite. 

I wanted to make a few different dishes using the small bunch I picked up at the market.  Roasting and pureeing the beets seemed the easiest route to do this, and it was incredibly easy.  I trimmed the root and stem ends from the beets and gave them a good scrub.  I then placed them in a baking dish with about a 1/4 cup of water and covered the dish with foil.  I put them in a preheated 425 degree F oven for about an hour.  Then I took the baking dish out of the oven, discarded the foil, and let the beets cool for about 20 minutes.  With gloved hands--because I knew from my science fair days that beets will stain anything they touch--I peeled off their skins, roughly chopped the flesh, and placed them in a food processor.  I pulsed the food processor until the beets were broken down into very small pieces but not quite down as far as, say, a sauce.  I had about a cup and a half of puree from three medium sized beets. I let the mixture cool all the way down to room temperature and then stored in a sealed container in the refrigerator until I was ready to use it. 

If you make this in advance as I did, you can keep the beet puree for up to a week in the refrigerator in a sealed container or freeze it for later use.  I'll be back in a few days to show you what I did with it! 

Summer Standoff

Summer and I have been in a bit of a standoff.  Summer has been holding out on me--forcing me to wait until AUGUST for the good, fresh, local produce.  In fact, when I heard from a friend that local corn was making it's way to the supermarket, my first thought was, "finally!" (Insert childish foot stomping.)

Is it just my imagination or did that early summer rain really push everything back a few weeks?  I am trying to remember when it was that I bought fresh corn last year, but I didn't blog about it and you should really know by now that my memory cannot be trusted.  It's been so hot in southwest Ohio that it's felt like the peak of summer for a few weeks now, and my patience was wearing thin. 

Earlier this week I stopped by my parents' house to have lunch with my mom and borrow an air mattress for my upcoming trip to Chicago.  While I was there I mentioned the corn was ready at Fulton Farms, just outside of town, and she suggested we go pick some up.  The drive from their house to the farm took me past nearly all of the important landmarks of my youth; the high school football field, the now-closed Mayflower movie theater, and the intersection where I rear-ended my high school boyfriend's car.  There are some things I will never forget!

When we arrived, the corn was piled up on wagons at the back of the little market.  There were people crowded around it, shucking their corn on site and stuffing shopping bags full of cobs.  My mom and I squeezed into a spot along one side of a wagon and opted to keep the husks on in case we wanted to grill the corn.  I purchased more than I would need so I could blanch and freeze some extra.  The result of my imagined summer-standoff has been preserving summer vegetables in any way I can. 

For dinner, I decided to throw together a quick summer salad using the corn.  I simply blanched two of the corn cobs and then cut off the corn.  Then I tossed it with some halved cherry tomatoes, torn cilantro, olive oil, white wine vinegar, salt, and pepper.  Letting it sit for ten or fifteen minutes before eating it allowed the juice of the tomato and fresh corn to be drawn out by the salt and mix with the oil and vinegar.  We ate it as a side dish the first night and then on top of grilled fish the second.  I'm not offering an exact recipe here because it's all to taste and the substitutions are endless.  No cilantro?  Use parsley or basil. Instead of the vinegar, squeeze in some fresh lime juice.  Want it spicy?  Add a minced jalapeno. 

Eat up as much summer as you can while it lasts. 

Why I Love Roasting

Lazy* is the word I would use to describe my cooking habits of late.  That is, if I've cooked at all.  We've had Thai carryout, deli sandwiches, pizza delivery, and leftovers for at least a week.  It's been kind of nice, but I've missed the meal planning and thoughtful grocery shopping.  I miss the routine of it all.

I needed to make something that would be a triple threat--taste, texture, aroma--to really drag me back to the kitchen.  It had to be simple and relatively low maintenance which of course brings roasting to mind.  Just today, Adam Roberts had article on reasons everyone should learn to roast a chicken in the Huffington Post.  The best reason:  it's ridiculously easy. 

I had a few pounds of small Yukon gold potatoes I picked up at Whole Foods this weekend calling to me from the counter to be eaten so I wanted to give them a proper roasting.  After a little research on epicurious, I decided to par-cook them on the stove top and then finish them off in the oven.  The entire process required little attention from me except to drain them and transfer them to a roasting pan before forgetting about them for a half an hour.  And that's why I love roasting--I got to continue my laziness and still eat well.

*Oh, those lazy pups up there?  Those are my dogs, Mia and Murray.  What a pair, eh?

Roasted Potatoes with Dill
recipe liberally adapted from Gourmet December 2001
serves 4-5 as a side dish

The dill took on an unexpected sweetness when tossed with the warm potatoes that Tim and I both really liked.  If you are not a dill person, or you have an abundance of a different herb like basil or parsley, feel free to swap for a similarly leafy herb.  Herbs like thyme and rosemary retain their flavor well in hot temperatures and would be fine to add during the roasting. 

Ingredients
2-3 lbs of small Yukon Gold potatoes, peeled or unpeeled
3 tbsp olive oil, divided
2 tbsp fresh dill, chopped
coarse salt & black pepper

Preheat oven to 450 degrees F.  Halve or quarter potatoes to desired size (around 2 inch pieces).  Place potatoes in a pot and add cold, salted water until just submerged.  Bring to a simmer and cook for 12 minutes or until potatoes are slightly tender but still firm when pierced with a knife.  Drain in a colander and pat dry.

Transfer potatoes to a foil-lined roasting pan.  Toss with 2 tbsp olive oil and 1 tsp salt and 1/2 tsp pepper.  Roast in the middle of the oven, stirring potatoes once during cooking, for about 30 minutes.

Remove from oven and toss with remaining olive oil, if needed, and fresh chopped dill.  Adjust salt & pepper to taste.  Serve warm.

It Comes Together Organically

Did I imagine that it was 70 degrees and partly sunny a few days ago?  The chilly gray skies have returned and I'm starting to think I dreamed the whole thing.  I'm feeling a bit deceived by the weather patterns.  Spring and I are on a cycle of spending some time together and then suddenly we are estranged.  I'd like it if Mother Nature could make up her mind about letting the warm weather stick around for good.  My green thumb would appreciate it, too. 

I can't help but feel a little bit like I am backsliding into a winter coma every time the temperatures slip.  I instantly start to refer to my mental winter-survival-guide, "Make a pot of soup!  Build a fire in the woodburning stove!"  Tim and I divide and conquer, sticking with our strengths; he loves to make a fire and I love to cook soup.

We are running a little light on homemade chicken stock so I opted to use the vegetable stock we made earlier this year.  I figure if we are starting there I should just make a vegetable soup.  As I gathered vegetables from counter-top baskets and the bottom drawer of our refrigerator, I really didn't have a starch like a potato to give some bulk to the soup.  After a quick peek in our cabinets, we had less than a quarter box of elbow macaroni so I decided to use pasta as my starch.  That's the thing about soup--it comes together organically that way.   

So I chopped the vegetables somewhat uniformly and into the pot went a tablespoon or two of olive oil, a yellow onion, a few medium carrots, two stalks of celery, several small parsnips, and some garlic.  I stirred occasionally, allowing the vegetables to sizzle over medium heat until they developed some color.  Then I added a heaping spoonful of tomato paste to add that essential umami flavor, balancing the sweet of the carrots and parsnips with its savory richness. (If you don't have tomato paste, a bit of full-bodied red wine will add the same depth.)

Then I added 3 containers of vegetable stock (about 6 cups) and a cup of water to the pot, stirring to combine and lift any bits off the bottom.  Two bay leaves, a few sprigs of fresh thyme and some salt & pepper were all the soup needed for that last bit of flavor development.  I turned up the heat to medium-high to bring it to a boil, and then reduced it to medium-low to simmer. 

After ten or so minutes, I remembered that I wanted to add macaroni, so I tossed in two handfuls and set the timer to check it again in ten more minutes.  When the timer went off, the macaroni was just al-dente and the vegetables were all cooked through without being mushy.

 

After I served myself a bowl, I decided the soup needed some color.  I suggested Tim add a handful of frozen peas to the pot and before he ate any.  The addition of the peas (not pictured here) gave the mostly reddish colored soup a pop of color and a nice snap in texture when eaten.  It turns out between the parsnips and the macaroni noodles, I didn't miss the potatoes at all.  

There's really not much of a recipe to this so I won't pretend to give you one, but if you hesitate in trusting yourself to make soup without a recipe I suggest throwing caution to the wind.  Simple soup like this tends to pull itself together without much help from the cook. 

On a completely unrelated note, I've been compiling a list of food-related podcasts that I have been listening to while I travel for work so keep an eye out for those soon!

The Perfect Steam-Fried Egg

There is an art to making the perfect runny egg.  The white needs to be fully cooked but the yolk must be carefully preserved in its runny, warm state.  The problem with flipping a fried egg is that it's very easy to break the yolk, so the steam-fried egg is the perfect solution. 

My mom used to make everyone in the family runny eggs on weekends.  I, like my father and his father, have never been a compartmental eater; when my siblings were eating their pancakes and eggs on separate plates, I poked my yolks so that they would mix with the syrup and be sopped up by the spongy pancakes.  I am firmly on the side that there is no point in having a runny egg if you don't have something to soak up the yolk.  

I like my eggs on top of crusty bread, waffles, pot roast, or like today, over roasted vegetables. 

I want to share my technique for a steam-fried egg.  It may not be earth-shattering, but it can definitely save you from the time-consuming, pot-stirring involved in poaching an egg.  

The Perfect Steam-Fried Egg

Step 1:  Butter the Pan. 

A small,non-stick saute pan over medium heat works best.  Allow the butter to melt completely before step 2.  

Step 2:  Crack in 2 eggs. 

If your eggs are especially fresh, the yolks will be firmer and less likely to break. 

Step 3:  Allow the whites to cook.  

This may take a minute or two.  You will know you are ready to move to step 4 when the whites begin to slightly bubble under neath. 

Step 4:  Add 2 tablespoons of room-temp tap water and cover.  

This is where the steaming comes into play.  If the pan doesn't sizzle immediately when you add the water, it's not hot enough.  It will take between 1 and 2 minutes for the whites to complete cooking and the top of the yokes to barely firm up.  When you remove the lid, there should be very little water remaining. 

Step 5:  Uncover and check for doneness.  

You should be able to touch the yolk lightly with your finger without it breaking, but there should be considerable give and "jiggle" to the yolk.  If you over-cook, give these to your spouse/friend/roommate and make yourself a new pair.  Tim, being a compartmental eater, has endured his fair share of over-medium eggs and thankfully loves me regardless.  He knows how I feel about eggs.

Step 6:  Prepare your plate.

I roasted some red peppers, onions, potatoes, and cauliflower tossed in olive oil, salt, and pepper at 400 degrees F for 40 minutes. 

Step 8:  Eat.

Step 9:  You're welcome. 

Fennel, My New Friend

I would like to withdraw my declaration of dislike for fennel.

In fact, while I will likely continue to spit out black licorice jelly beans every single time I mistake one for a chocolate pudding flavor, I think that fennel might become one of my new favorite winter vegetables.  This is shocking for me, but I admit that what I presumed fennel would taste like, and what it actually tasted like when cooked with lemon zest, onions, parsley, and other flavors was not what I expected.

I'm still on a mission to create a middle menu for Thanksgiving.  When I found a recipe for Fennel Gratin, I considered the possibilities:  I could hate the mere smell of it baking and dump the whole thing out before we ate it or I could go ahead and try it out, even serve it to Tim, and if we both liked it then it might be a contender.

As I was slicing the fennel bulbs, I tried to decide how I liked the smell.  I didn't hate it and the sheer excitement of finding out that I might actually like it made me a little giddy.  While I was sauteing the slices of fennel with onion and garlic, Tim wandered into the kitchen with his nose tipped up in the air.

"What smells so good?"

And when I popped the finished product out of the oven, I completely forgot to snap a picture because we couldn't wait to taste it.  Honestly--we loved it.  I feel a little silly now about years of insulting and ignoring fennel when the plant hardly deserved it. 

I called my mom a few days later and my Fennel Gratin came up in conversation.  "We loved it," I told her, "but I thought that I hated that fennel flavor."  And my mother, in all of her motherly wisdom, said, "I thought you did, too, but our tastes change as we get older."

I don't think this will be going on my Thanksgiving menu, because I suspect that the young kids (and perhaps some of the older ones) might still have an aversion to fennel.  I think this dish will be my little (not-so) secret recipe, saved for a more adventurous dinner crowd.  

Fennel, my new friend, I hope we meet again soon.


Fennel Gratin with Parmesan and Lemon
adapted from Bon Appetit, November 2010
serves 4-6

Two notes:  1.  To me fennel was more of a sweet, fruity vegetable flavor than the black licorice flavor I expected.  In fact, I wouldn't put fennel in the same category of black licorice flavoring whatsoever.  If you are unsure, pick up a fennel bulb at the store and smell it.  I think you will be (pleasantly) surprised.  1.  Trust the recipe.  You really do need 15 minutes to saute the fennel to get it to soften!  ,

Ingredients for the Gratin
2 tbsp olive oil
1 medium onion, halved and cut into 1/4 inch slices
1 garlic clove, minced
2-3 large fennel bulbs, trimmed, cored, and cut into 1/4 inch slices
1/4 cup chicken stock
1 tbsp Italian parsley, chopped
1 tsp fresh thyme, chopped
1/2 tsp red pepper flakes
salt & pepper

Preheat oven to 425 degrees F.  In a large, wide pot, heat olive oil over medium heat.  Add onion and garlic, saute until soft but not brown, about 5 minutes.  Increase heat to medium-high and add fennel.   Saute until fennel is slightly softened and starting to brown, stirring often, about 15 minutes.  Stir in broth, parsley, thyme, and red pepper flakes.  Season to your taste (recommended is 1/2 tsp kosher salt and 1/4 tsp black pepper).  Reduce heat to medium-low and simmer about 5 minutes until broth is mostly absorbed.  Transfer to an oiled baking dish. 

Ingredients for the topping
2 tbsp unsalted butter
1/3 cup bread crumbs (panko preferred)
1/2 cup grated Parmesan cheese
2 tsp Italian parsley, chopped
3/4 tsp lemon zest

Melt butter in a medium skillet over medium heat.  Add breadcrumbs and saute until golden brown, about 3 minutes.  Remove from heat and cool to room temperature.  In a small bowl, mix breadcrumbs, parsley, Parmesan cheese, and lemon zest.

Sprinkle crumb topping over fennel.  Bake until heated through and topping is slightly browned, about 20 minutes.  Serve warm.

Cold Weather Coping Mechanism

Ohio sunshine in November is deceiving.  You expect to walk out into it and be blanketed in its warmth and have your face flushed with its toasty rays.  But you are always surprised when it's not warm, and even the splashes of sun can't cut through the windy chill.  A light sweater doesn't provide enough barrier to block the chill from hitting your skin, and you realize that you must wear a jacket or more layers to keep yourself warm. 

For me, it's always hard adjusting to the falling temperatures.  We experience such distinct seasons in Ohio that I am just getting used to summer when fall starts pushing the warm weather out.  There is never enough time to truly get comfortable with one season before you have to swap out your dresser drawers for a more weather-appropriate wardrobe. 

I try to ignore the changing weather for a while.  This morning I decided to leave my warmer sweater in the car and walk the half block to my office without it.  It wasn't so bad the first 30 feet or so, and then I found myself in a self-hug position, trying to shield my self from the cold air with my arms.  Tomorrow, if the cold temperature remains, the sweater is coming with me!

Heating myself up from the inside out is really the only solution I can reasonably come up with for coping with the cold.  Hot tea becomes my new best friend, replacing her iced cousin.  The amount of hot tea that I've imbibed during just the few short weeks of cold temperatures is enough for most people to be worried about staining their teeth.  However, I have been blessed with perpetual white teeth (thankfully) and drink my tea with reckless abandon.

Tim has found his own way of staying warm.  Spicy foods--and the spicier the better.  A few days ago we ordered some Dewey's pizza, and before I even handed Tim his plate I went ahead and sprinkled his slices generously with red pepper flakes.  I knew if I didn't he would do it himself.  And it isn't uncommon for Tim to put red pepper flakes AND sriracha on his pizza simultaneously.  I often wonder how his taste buds have fared with all of this intense spiciness but he assures me that they are all in good working order. 

This cold weather coping mechanism is not unfamiliar to me as my dad was known to eat hot wings so hot (how hot were they?) that he would wipe sweat from his brow between bites.  So maybe it's a man-thing, or maybe it's just a men-in-my-life thing, or maybe a men-in-my-life-during-cold-weather thing, but no matter why, it has increased the spicy factor in our food as of late. 

If you are also a lover of warm, spicy, comforting foods, you should definitely try upping the spiciness of vegetarian chili, home-made stir-fry, and this incredibly easy Coconut Thai Curry (all of which I thought were plenty spicy as I've adapted, but Tim added extra sriracha to his for added heat).

Coconut Thai Curry
adapted from Everyday Food Magazine
serves 4

I was able to find coconut milk very easily in the international aisle or the "mixed drink" aisle of the grocery store.  You can buy it in a 13.5 ounce can.  Also, consider adding broccoli or carrots when you add the cauliflower and potato.  Or toss in some peas or cashews when you add the chickpeas.  The possibilities are endless with this curry. 

Ingredients for the rice
1 tbsp vegetable oil
1 tsp ground mustard
1/2 medium yellow onion, diced
1 cup jasmine rice
salt & pepper

In a medium saucepan, heat oil over medium-high heat.  Add onion and ground mustard and cook for about 3 minutes, stirring until onion is soft.  Stir in rice.  Add 1.5 cups water, season with salt & pepper, and bring to a boil.  Cover and reduce to a simmer; cook until water is absorbed and rice is tender, about 15 minutes.  Remove from heat and let stand 5 minutes.  Fluff with fork before serving.

Ingredients for the curry
1 tbsp vegetable oil
1/2 medium yellow onion, diced
1 tbsp red curry paste
1 cup unsweetened coconut milk
1 tbsp spicy chili garlic sauce (or more for extra spiciness)
1 large sweet potato, peeled and cut into 1 inch pieces
1 small cauliflower, cut into florets (about 2.5 cups)
salt & pepper
1 can chickpeas (15.5 ounces), rinsed and drained
optional--fresh cilantro for serving

At the same time as making the rice, in a Dutch oven or heavy pot, heat vegetable oil over medium-high heat.  Add onion and cook, stirring until soft about 3 minutes.  Add curry paste and stir until fragrant, about 1 minute.  Stir in coconut milk, spicy chili garlic sauce, and 1 cup water and bring to a boil.  Add sweet potato and cauliflower, season with salt & pepper, and reduce heat to medium.  Cover and simmer until vegetables are tender, between 10 and 15 minutes. 

Stir chickpeas into curry and increase heat to high.  Simmer rapidly until liquid reduces slightly, about 2 minutes. 

Serve curry over rice with cilantro.

A Labor of Food-Love

It took me a few days, but I was finally about to resolve the squash puree situation.  The situation being, of course, that I made this beautiful squash puree and hadn't had any time to use it!  Something always comes up and my good intentions to actually cook what I buy at the store goes to the wayside.  Tim has even suggested planning on only 4 dinners during the weekdays rather than 5, because the truth is one dinner menu is almost always scrapped in favor of leftovers, pizza, or Thai take-out. 

But last night, I was really motivated. We had everything we needed for dinner, and I had even remembered a few days prior to pull some steaks out of the deep freeze to thaw.  It was nothing short of a miracle that I even had some leftover white wine (when does that ever happen?) and had a glass to drink and some to spare for cooking. 

I've made risotto a handful of times, but the first time I ever had it was when our friend Luke came over for dinner.  Now Luke is one of Tim's oldest friends and was the best man at our wedding.  He got away with saying the word fornication during his speech at the reception--that should tell you something.  The time he came over to make it for us was when Tim and I lived at our first apartment together, long before our wedding.  It was a one bedroom in a historic multi-unit building and our overnight guests had to sleep on the couch or a blow-up mattress in the living room.  Luke brought his own secret ingredient--saffron--and took over our tiny kitchen. 

He used our only two pots, one for stock and the other for the rice.  He stirred so gingerly while he added the stock.  I couldn't possibly understand why he didn't dump all the liquid in, put a lid on it, and get out of that hot, cramped kitchen.  But Luke knew what I didn't--that risotto is like a puppy; it demands constant attention and if you give it what it needs, then it will repay you at the end by wowing you with a special trick.  The risotto's trick, of course, is that it's sauce becomes so rich and thick that it's hard to believe there is no heavy cream or flour in it. 

It did occur to me that someone might have come up with an easier way to make risotto that didn't require standing in the kitchen for half of my evening, so I did a quick Google search and found someone who did a comparison of stirred and unstirred risotto.  Mark's findings were that it probably wasn't entirely necessary since you add cheese as a binder towards the end.  I contest that cheese is not necessary in all risotto (in my opinion).  And also sometimes I think when you labor for something that it makes it all the more enjoyable in the end. 

Thus, it was back to stirring.  

I felt a bit like Betty Draper there for a while, sipping my glass of wine, stirring my pot, and absentmindedly staring at the oven clock.  Of course, I was stirring what was going to be the star of an amazing homemade meal and Betty would likely have been stirring boiled hot dogs or a jar of spaghetti sauce. Sorry Betty, I've got you figured out. 

As we sat down to eat, I was feeling pretty proud of myself.  From roasting the squash to adding some torn sage at the very end, this butternut squash risotto was my masterpiece and a labor of food-love. 

Come to think of it, I suppose most of this blog is a labor of food-love.  Love being the important word here. 


Butternut Squash Risotto
adapted from Cooking After Five
serves 6-8 as a side dish or 4-6 as a main course

Traditionally risotto is made with arborio rice, but I've had no problem using jasmine rice.  It's possible that jasmine rice takes a little longer, as it seems to be larger grain, but I think the result is similar.  As an added bonus, we use jasmine rice as our everyday rice so I don't have to buy arborio rice just for this dish.  


Ingredients
6 cups chicken stock
1 cup butternut squash puree
2 tbsp olive oil
1 small onion, diced
1 garlic clove, minced
2 cups arborio rice or jasmine rice
1/2 cup dry white wine
salt & pepper
2 tbsp cold butter
3-4 sage leaves torn into small pieces (about 1 tbsp)
1/2 cup grated Parmesan cheese

In a large stock pot, bring the chicken stock and butternut squash puree to a boil.  Stir until well combined and reduce to a simmer. 

In a heavy bottomed dutch oven or pot, heat olive oil over medium heat. Add onion and garlic and cook for 2-3 minutes.  Add rice and stir, cooking an additional 2 minutes.  Pour in wine and allow wine to simmer until most of the liquid has reduced.  Then begin to add 1 or 2 ladles of the stock mixture to the rice, stirring continuously, until the stock is reduced. Add 1 or 2 more ladles and repeat the process for the next 20 to 25 minutes, or until the rice is done.

Rice should be cooked through but slightly firm and the sauce will be thick and creamy.  The amount of stock used will vary.  I used about 5 cups of the stock mixture. 

Season with salt & pepper and remove from heat.  Add the cold butter and torn sage, stir, and then cover.  After 2 minutes, remove lid, and stir in the cheese.   Serve hot. 

The photo I took above was after the risotto had cooled down a bit, so it was not as creamy in appearance.  It will begin to come together more as it cools, which does make it less messy as a side dish on your plate. 

Store extras in airtight containers and refrigerate.  To reheat, add a few teaspoons of water or stock and then microwave on high for a minute or two.  Stir and eat!

Worth the Effort

As I sit here typing, I am still stuffed to the gills.  I feel like I could lay on my side and roll down the hall to bed, giving in to the food coma that is lingering in my near future.  I told you that there were big fall food plans in my menu this week and tonight I definitely have a recipe you should try.

I was tentatively planning to use that butternut squash puree tonight for a risotto, but my protein wasn't thawed yet so I had to rearrange my menu plans for the week.  I decided to go ahead and prep tomorrow night's dinner, put it in the refrigerator, and then make something else for tonight's meal.  I figured since I have to work a little late tomorrow night that making tomorrow's dinner ahead of time would make it easiest on Tim.  Well, that and I could ensure that all of the food I picked up at the store this weekend wouldn't go to waste.

In fact, I was so excited about tomorrow night's dinner that I emailed my friend K.C., fellow step-mom and avid food blog reader, and told her, I'm going to make Smitten Kitchen's mushroom lasagna this week.  To which she replied, I JUST finished reading that post--let me know how it goes.  Great minds think alike.

But, when I got home from work, I realized that Dirty Dish Mountain (or Mount Dishmore?  which do you like better?) had completely obstructed my ability to use the counter-tops. 

Let's just say that between Dirty Dish Mountain and Tim's rumbling stomach I didn't get both dinners prepared.  Tomorrow's dinner became tonight's dinner, and mushroom lasagna was an excellent choice.

First there was a pound and a half of cremini mushrooms to deal with.  There was the rinsing them, the wiping any remaining dirt from them with a paper towel, then cutting off the stems and slicing them.  While I worked on these I started a pot of water boiling for the lasagna noodles.

This recipe, as Deb mentioned in her write up of it, is not for someone short on pots and pans.  While noodles bathed in the pot of boiling water and the cremini mushrooms sautéed in some butter and olive oil in a large skillet, I still needed a saucepan to heat up the milk and garlic and then add that to another saucepan to make the white sauce.  I was starting to mentally thank our wedding guests again as I pulled out some pots we don't use very often.  They really came in handy tonight!  Deb did say you could heat up the milk and garlic in your microwave, but what if you don't have one?

Mount Dishmore was slowly growing in the sink again.  Thankfully Tim and I have the ongoing deal that if whoever makes dinner doesn't have to do the dishes.  I think I've done my fair share tonight already!

My sauce turned out excellent and came together very easily, though if you make this I'd recommend being liberal with the salt.  Unless you are using a very salty cheese (like Pecorino), this is your best chance to flavor the lasagna. 

Just as the early fall sun abandoned me completely, my mushroom lasagna was assembled and ready to bake.  We watched last night's episode of Mad Men (a really, really good one, eh?) and tried to be patient.  Thankfully, the lasagna was worth the effort.

 

Forgive me for the terrible photo, but it was well after 8pm by the time I got to snap this.  There was no light left outside, and we are lacking on the bright indoor lights here.  You can see, though, the incredible layers of sauce, mushrooms, and noodles and the amazing crispy Parmesan cheese top.  It was earthy, salty, crunchy, cheesy, and rich. 

I ate one slice, and then had to have a little more.  I definitely could have stopped at the first, but this was the type of dinner you are afraid if you don't have just one more bite, you might not get another chance at it.  Which is completely silly, especially when we're talking about lasagna in a two-person household.  There are leftovers for days, which I sliced up and packaged individually so I can take it for lunches this week and we can freeze a few for another day. 

If you'd like the recipe, visit Smitten Kitchen.  Check out her recipe archive while you are there--you will be inspired.

As for what I was intending to make for dinner tonight--I guess you'll have to come back later this week to see for yourself.   

A Fall State of Mind

One morning last week, as I was leaving the house to go to work, I realized that the morning sun was reflecting off the frosted grass as if it were glass. As I stood there wondering where the warm weather had gone I decided I should go back inside and grab a sweater and my sunglasses.

The first frost came upon me so unexpectedly that my internal food compass (the one I told you about last month) pointed me towards winter squash and root vegetables.  I started mentally preparing this week's menu while I sat in my office chilled to the bone.  I wanted to make anything that would warm me up from the inside out.

But then today, in contrast to the last week, I walked outside to a warm, bright afternoon with temperatures nearing 90 degrees.  Ninety.  In mid-October.

That's Ohio for you.  

I decided to keep my menu for this week as I planned it.  I'm in a fall state of mind, and there is no turning back. 

I spent much of my Sunday afternoon multi-tasking between organizing the mountains of clean (and dirty) laundry we've accumulated, catching up on some episodes of Cook's Country, and starting to prep some time consuming ingredients for dinners this week.  

I got the inspiration for risotto from Cooking After Five.  Nicole took pumpkin puree and mixed it in with her stock, infusing the stock with the flavor of the pumpkin.  Then when she added the stock to the rice, the pumpkin flavor, but not the bulk of the puree, was transferred to the rice.  

I opted to swap the pumpkin for butternut squash.  And in order to have some pureed butternut squash, I was going to need to make it myself.  Using the method that I saw on Annie's Eats, I sliced a 3.5 lb squash lengthwise, cleaned out the seeds, and put both halves cut side down on a cookie sheet.  I added a cup of water and roasted them for 75 minutes in a 350 degree F oven.  

When I took them out, the flesh of the squash was soft.  I let them cool for about 25 minutes while I folded a few loads of laundry (it won't go away unless I take care of it).  Then I scooped out the soft squash and added it to the food processor, discarding the skins.  I pulsed the food processor until the squash was pureed and there were no more chunks.  Then, in the manner that Annie did, I lined a mesh strainer with a paper towel and attempted to strain out some water from the puree.  

But truthfully, after an hour sitting in the strainer, no excess water had been strained out.  When I went back to consult Annie's photos, my squash puree was much thicker than her pumpkin, and I guess the flesh of squash is just not as watery.  

So, I measured the squash out in 2 cup increments and labeled the plastic containers.  For me, a 3.5lb butternut squash made about 4 cups of squash puree.  I'm going to keep one container in the fridge to be used  in my risotto, but that only calls for 1 cup.  I might have to get creative to find a way to use the other cup.  Any ideas?  


I will toss the other container in my freezer, stacked on top of our homemade tomato sauce and a few batches of frozen pot-stickers.  If I keep making big batches of things, I'm going to end up needing a second deep freeze.  


I have a few other thing to prep this evening so that Tim won't be waiting for hours after work to eat (he likes to eat on a schedule!) but I think I will surprise you with those.  

Just think fall food and check back here later this week to see how my week of warm dinners went.  

No Ordinary Spaghetti Dinner

Most of my life consists of ordinary days.  The type of day where I get up, go to work, come home, have dinner with my husband, play with our dogs, and then go to sleep.  Of course, there are certain days that are consumed with attending marching band competitions to watch Melissa perform, entire afternoons filled with anticipation of a new Mad Men episode, or planning trivia nights with new friends.  But these can be few and far between so Tim and I have settled into somewhat of a quiet routine with one another.  I can't complain--I'm lucky. 

I suppose some of my initial interest in blogging was to throw myself out there a little bit more, mix things up, have some new experiences.  And this little blog hasn't let me down.  I was able to attend an awesome luncheon on canning at Local 127; I have challenged myself to cook and bake things I've never made before; and I have started some new food traditions in my family that I look forward to continuing. 

But even with all of these new and interesting opportunities and foods, often the weeknight dinners are the meals that I love the best.  I like just being home with Tim and that makes an ordinary night special just because we are together.  Cheesey--I know--but it makes workdays pass a little more quickly and it makes me want to turn an ordinary spaghetti dinner into something with a little more "za za zu."

Because really, my life with Tim is no ordinary life.  It's a good life, and it deserves some good food to go with it. 

Baked Spaghetti and Mozzarella
adapted from Everday Food Magazine
serves 4

Ingredients
3/4 pound spaghetti
2 tbsp olive oil
2 garlic cloves, smashed and peeled
2  28oz cans of whole peeled tomatoes
2 cups basil leaves, torn or coarsley chopped
salt & pepper
3/4 pound fresh mozzarella, cut into 1/2 inch pieces

Preheat oven to 400 degrees F.  In a large skillet, heat oil over medium heat.  Add garlic and cook until fragrant, about 1 minute.  Add tomatoes and bring to a boil.  Cook at a simmer until tomatoes break down, using a wooden spoon or potato masher to break up pieces of tomatoes, about 12-15 minutes or until the sauce thickens.  Salt & pepper to taste. 

Meanwhile, bring a large pot of salted water to a boil.  Cook pasta about 5 minutes.  It should still be slightly crunchy.  Drain pasta and return to pot.  Add tomato sauce, basil, and half of the mozzarella and toss to combine.  Transfer mixture to a 3 quart baking dish and top with remaining mozzarella.

Bake until cheese is golden and edges are bubbling, about 25 minutes. 

Here I am, September

There is no denying it--it's September.  I don't even have to look at the calendar to know it.  September in southwest Ohio is always the same:  a crisp chill in the morning that makes me want to snuggle down deeper into my bed and then warm sunshine all afternoon that burns away the chill. 

The trees tell me, too, in their own sly way; turning orange so slowly that I hardly notice and then one afternoon I take a longer look and wonder "when did that happen?"

Without even realizing it my grocery list starts transitioning from greens, fresh fruits, and soft cheeses to sweet potatoes, grains, and hearty proteins.  I think it's because September gives me an anticipation of pumpkin patches, corn mazes, and fuzzy sweaters.  Here I am, September--my arms (and appetite) are wide open for you. 

And for you, my darling reader, is a recipe for a three-bean chili.  It was warm, spicy, and filling, and I didn't miss the meat at all.  You won't either.

Three Bean Chili
recipe adapted from Bon Appetit
serves 6

Ingredients
1 tbsp olive oil
1 medium yellow onion, chopped
8 garlic cloves, chopped
1 28oz can stewed tomatoes
2 15oz cans of black beans, well drained
1 15oz can red kidney beans, well drained
1 15oz can garbanzo beans, well drained
3 tbsp chili powder
1 tbsp ground cumin
1 tbsp spicy chili garlic sauce (or 1 tbsp sriricha for extra spicy chili)
salt & pepper
optional:  cheddar cheese, cilantro, and sour cream for garnish

Heat oil in a heavy saucepan or dutch oven over medium heat.  Add garlic and onion and saute until fragrant, about 1 minute.  Add tomatoes, beans, chili powder, cumin, and spicy chili garlic sauce and bring to a simmer.  Reduce heat to low and simmer until flavors are blended, at minimum 30 minutes and up to 2 hours.  Add water in 1/2 cup increments to thin the chili if needed.  Salt & pepper to taste. 

Serve hot and garnish with cheese, cilantro, and/or sour cream.

Do Your Eggplant Justice

I will never say no to Eggplant Parmesan.  My sister and I are both addicted to P.F. Changs Stir-Fried Eggplant.  And in the spirit of adventure, I am willing to give Stuffed Eggplant a try.  I would be willing to go out on a limb and proclaim that there are few ways that I would not devour eggplant.

This past weekend we bought the most beautiful light purple eggplant.  Its skin was so light in the bright morning sun it appeared almost white.  I wasn't even certain it was an eggplant at first but the farmer assured me that except for the difference in outer color it would taste like any other eggplant.  When I sliced it open it revealed the pearl colored inner flesh of the eggplant dotted with almond colored seeds. 

I wanted to do this eggplant justice and honor its inherent flavor and texture.  I think my end result would give any eggplant-lover like myself a very satisfied side dish or main course.  

Grilled Eggplant
serves 2-3

Ingredients
1 medium eggplant
3 tbsp olive oil, divided
salt & pepper

Peel the eggplant if you desire, but it's not necessary.  Slice the eggplant across into 1/2 inch thick rounds.  Place eggplant in a gallon-sized zip lock bag.  Add 2 tbsp olive oil, salt & pepper to the bag.  Toss eggplant to coat and set aside for 30 minutes.

Heat a grill pan over medium heat (or outdoor grill).  Add 1 tbsp olive oil to pan and arrange eggplant rounds in single layer.  Cook for 3-4 minutes on first side until eggplant begins to release liquid and browns.  Flip and cook for an additional 3-4 minutes, removing eggplant to a plate.  Repeat if necessary with remaining eggplant.  Season with additional salt & pepper to taste, if needed. 

Serve warm as a light entrée over rice or couscous or as a side dish. 

Eggs on Sunday

Tim and I are big breakfast people.  When we first started dating, we would go to breakfast at a diner called The Echo in Hyde Park.  I loved that place because we would always order the same things:  eggs, potato cakes, bacon, and a Diet Coke for me and either the same for Tim or an omelette with coffee.  Sometimes my old roommates would also join us and one of them always ordered her version of the Hyde Parker omelette:  egg whites, spinach, tomatoes, and feta cheese.  Everything was always perfect.

We are both creatures of habit when it comes to breakfast, but there are times when we try something new.  For example, right after we watched Julie & Julia, Tim went out and bought me Mastering the Art of French Cooking.  I promptly baked my family a cheese soufflé.  It was tasty, but I quickly realized that there wasn't much substance to a plain cheese soufflé and it wasn't a very filling brunch.

 

My friend, Meg, wrote about eggs baked in ramekins and I really haven't been able to get that concept out of my mind.  The nice thing about making eggs in this manner is that you can make individual portions and don't have to spend time tending to a pot of boiling water for poaching or a sauté pan for frying.  And the way we made them was a good use of the endless tomatoes available at the farmer's market. 

Baked Eggs in Tomatoes
adapted from Everday Food magazine
serves 2

This recipe can easily be increased to serve more than two or paired down for one.  You can also adjust the seasoning amounts to your taste or add any diced vegetables like corn or zucchini to the egg mixture for more texture.  

Ingredients
2 large, firm tomatoes
2 large eggs
2 tsp fresh chives
2 tbsp grated Parmesan, Gruyère, or other hard cheese
salt & pepper

Preheat the oven to 375 degrees F.  With a paring knife, cut around the top of the tomato, taking care not to pierce all the way through to the bottom.  Using a spoon, scoop out the insides of the tomatoes, without poking through the skin.  Arrange tomatoes in a baking dish lined with foil or parchment paper.  Salt & pepper tomatoes.

In a small bowl, mix eggs, chives, salt & pepper.  Pour egg mixture into tomatoes.  Top with cheese.  Bake for 35-40 minutes or until egg mixture is cooked through and cheese is slightly browned.  

Serve immediately.