Not Derby Pie » easy-as-a-1-2-3

Taco Night Coleslaw

rivka — Wed, 21 Jul 2010 14:00:16 +0000

Taco night is a perennial favorite. It’s an easy meal to prepare, most components can be prepared well in advance, and if you make it for a dinner party, you’ll be feasting on leftovers for days. When I say “taco night,” of course, I’m referring to that generic category of weeknight suppers, including but not limited to tacos, fajitas, burritos, and anything else involving tortillas, fillings, and toppings of your choice.

In case you’re at a loss for where to start, here’s my go-to iteration of Tex-Mex dinner: I serve warm flour tortillas, refried beans, sauteed peppers and onions, cabbage slaw with lime and chile, and salsa, guacamole, and queso fresco to top it all off. It’s a regular feast.

And please, don’t let me cramp your style: the possibilities aren’t limited to beans and whatnot. If you’re not a fan of the legumes, pan-fry some chicken, fish, or beef slices over high heat until charred, squeeze a lime juice and sprinkle some salt and pepper, and you’ve got yourself a taco or fajita filling.

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Cheese Puffs

rivka — Sun, 20 Jun 2010 18:00:12 +0000

One of the first cookbooks I owned was Nigella Lawson’s Nigella Bites. I bought it at Anthropologie, back when Nigella was a Travel Channel sensation. The Food Network had already gone the way of the dodo, its cleavage-showing hostesses flashing smiles as they tasted “delicious” homemade tarts filled with the scooped-out innards of a store-bought pumpkin pie. No thanks. Nigella’s show was where the fun was at. You could catch the gorgeous broad sneaking downstairs at 1 am in adorable pink PJs, in search of a late-night snack. The camera would zoom really close as she opened the fridge, stuck a finger into a big bowl of chocolate mousse, and licked her finger clean. A dip into the chocolate mousse, pudding, anything, at 1 am is a classic Friedman move. When I saw Nigella do it, I was hooked. She seemed real.

Her cookbook conveyed that same honesty. There were pictures of her with curlers in, wearing a bathrobe. There were sweet ramblings about her favorite suppers, and a mouthwatering picture of homemade pasta and meatballs. And it didn’t stop there. Nigella devoted a chapter of the book to what she called “Legacy.” The section contained humble recipes that were the hallmark of her childhood, things like “Granny Lawson’s Lunch Dish” (a slab-pie of sorts, filled with hard boiled eggs, ground beef, and olives) and “Soft Boiled Eggs with Asparagus Soldiers.” I loved this section because even though I’m pretty sure I never made any of the recipes contained within, it provided the most sincere picture of where Nigella came from.

If I had a cookbook (to dream!), and it had a legacy section, this recipe for cheese puffs would certainly make the cut. It’s a humble recipe; if you saw cheese puffs at a party, you’d probably pass over them in favor of the the rhubarb curd. But to do so would be quite a mistake. A cross between pancakes and biscuits, cheese puffs are crispy and golden around the edges, soft and chewy within. They’re a bit sweet, but unexpectedly, refreshingly, tangy. My father likes them with just sour cream, but I prefer a bit of mascarpone cheese or greek yogurt, and fresh strawberries. But however you eat them — with sour cream, with greek yogurt, with berries, with nothing at all — once you start, you kinda can’t stop.

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Sour Cherry Liqueur

rivka — Sun, 13 Jun 2010 15:32:57 +0000

It’s officially sour cherry season! I got my first quart at the market today, and I simply can’t wait to turn them into this lovely aperitif. Originally posted last July, sour cherry liqueur is back!

Want to do something awesomely cool and really flippin’ easy along with me? Make sour cherry liqueur. It’s the height of sour cherry season, and markets are bursting with those tart little bubbles of juice. The season’s pretty short: I was thinking of hitting up a u-pick next week to get some sour cherries out in the countryside for cheap, but they said they’ll be gone by Sunday. So grab some now, like, now now, and put them to use in a way that’ll keep well into the fall.

My dear friend Dellie had D and me over for an early Thanksgiving dinner last November, and her mother served this liqueur as an aperitif. I was totally blown away: it was sweet, very sweet, but also tart and zingy. It tasted strongly and distinctly of sour cherries, and sipping it sent waves of summer nostalgia down my spine. I sauntered into the kitchen where I found the always-graceful Mrs. S pulling a whole turkey out of the oven to rest. What better time to bother someone for a recipe? She said to come knocking again when it was sour cherry season, and she’d give me the rundown. Unlike most other things, I didn’t forget this promise, and last week, I emailed Mrs. S begging her recipe. She graciously obliged, and her instructions were so thorough that I can easily share them with you. Granted, you won’t be tasting the fruits of your labor until the fall — but if you feel like preserving some of summer’s bounty in this unusual way, I can promise that your patience will be well-rewarded.

That's a knife jutting out of the pitcher -- I used it to stir the stuff, and I did fill it to the top after taking the pic.

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Cucumber-Avocado Soup

rivka — Fri, 04 Jun 2010 13:02:16 +0000

No food-friendly home is without its strange culinary rituals, and mine is no exception. Just ask a recent house guest, who during her 3-day stay caught me in the kitchen before 7 am in wet hair and a bathrobe on two separate occasions, cooking not eggs and toast as the normal people do, but strawberry-chili jam and walnut chocolate chip cookies. I like making elaborate things early in the morning; I’m a total weirdo.

Take another odd ritual in chez NDP: when summer rolls around, I start awkwardly hoarding empty yogurt tubs, filling them as quickly as possible with all sorts of cold summer soups: white gazpacho and chilled corn soup and more. Why I can’t use tupperware like the rest of earthlings, I don’t know. All I know is that cold soup ladled from recycled yogurt tubs on a hot and humid summer day makes me grin big.

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Peas with Leeks and Tarragon

rivka — Wed, 12 May 2010 14:35:11 +0000

This isn’t the recipe I planned to share with you today. There’s a recipe for a cookie that I absolutely adore, that I was sure I posted last July. Thing is, I’ve been searching and searching for it on this site, but it seems either to have gone missing or to have never been posted. I’m still totally confused about where it’s gone, but I’m getting to the bottom of this and will post the recipe later this week…so stay tuned.

In the meantime, peas, anyone?

Fresh peas a staple of springtime, on the menus of every restaurant in the city, and when they’re really fresh, they’re amazing. But I mean really fresh. Like, 1 day old or less. Sometimes, you get a lucky batch of pods, and the peas inside are small and young enough that they never take on that starchy texture or lose their sweet, clean flavor. But generally, fresh peas are hit-or-miss if you buy ‘em more than a couple days out. That’s why this recipe calls for frozen peas (*collective sigh of relief*).

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Simplest Asparagus with Fresh Peas

rivka — Tue, 06 Apr 2010 01:40:45 +0000

The markets are back open, the cherry blossoms are in full bloom, and I can almost forgive the swarms of tourists and the row of port-o-potties that totally block the view along the tidal basin, because spring has sprung! Thrills.

After a long winter of stews and soups, rice dishes and noodle bowls, I crave the fresh simplicity of spring produce. When a Sunday at the market sends me home with asparagus, fresh shelling peas, rhubarb, and (cross your fingers!) ramps, I try to prepare meals in a no-frills manner, letting the vegetables speak for themselves. Why kill fresh peas with a gloppy sauce? Why bury asparagus in soup or risotto? Leave those more involved, less spare recipes for another time. These first spring vegetables should be celebrated, I tell you.

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Bursting Hot Tomatoes with Cheesy Breadcrumbs

rivka — Mon, 01 Feb 2010 14:05:15 +0000

There’s a little game I play as fall wanes into winter. It’s about tomatoes. In summer, when tomatoes are at their peak, I want nothing but to eat them — lots of them, all the time — in preparations as simple as can be. Don’t make me pasta with tomato sauce when bursting, juicy, raw tomatoes can be had in abundance; slice up a couple, drizzle a little olive oil on top, share a pinch of salt, and I’ll be on my way, thank you.

The fall tomatoes in these parts aren’t half-bad, either. Some farmers — Toigo, notably — do a great job with the late-season fruit. But December and January (and beyond) are murky tomato territory, where the red ones are all found beneath the fluorescent lighting of your nearest grocery store, and the farmers market tomatoes tend to be green, for frying or pickling only.

Now before you let anyone tell you that supermarket tomatoes are good for nothing, I’ve got to chime in. I’ll agree wholeheartedly that January beefsteak tomatoes are about as mealy and flavorless as they come. However, the grocery store’s cherry tomatoes are passable when you really, really need them. Furthermore, there are ways to enhance supermarket tomatoes to the point that they’re not just edible, they’re actually kinda tasty. This is one of those ways.

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Down and Dirty Pasta e Cecci

rivka — Thu, 28 Jan 2010 14:00:01 +0000

Anything that has the words “down and dirty” in the title is something I will, sooner or later, make. “Down and dirty” suggests a rough-and-tumble version of the refined original, something you’re more likely to eat on your front stoop than in a dining room. When I hear down and dirty, I see myself in cutoff jean shorts and one of those ribbed white tank tops, sitting outside on a balmy summer day. There are mosquitos in the air, bangs in my face. I’m eating from a clay bowl I threw in the pottery studio down the street. When lunchtime rolls around, I notice some chickpeas in the cabinet, so I decide to throw them in with some chili, anchovies, and pasta, and call it lunch. Down and dirty lunch, that is.

Surely you can understand how, when I saw a recipe for “down and dirty pasta e cecci” on Food52′s website (via Jennifer Steinhauser of NYT, via her friend fisheri — that’s his username, not his real name — oh, the confusion!), I simply had to make it. Mind you, I didn’t even know what “cecci” were. I don’t speak Italian. But down and dirty pasta is something that best be coming out of my kitchen, like, pronto.

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Moroccan Salmon with Curried Yogurt

rivka — Mon, 25 Jan 2010 14:00:33 +0000

Though it doesn’t appear very often on this site, fish — salmon in particular — is a staple in the NDP kitchen. I like it because it’s a substantial cornerstone of a meal without being as heavy as meat often is. I frequently host lunch on Saturdays, and I almost always cook for these lunches in advance; salmon can be served cold with a dipping sauce, obviating the need to carefully par-bake it before reheating the next day to serve. Also, it’s delicious.

Last year, I frequently cooked fish “en papillote,” each filet wrapped with care in its own little parcel of parchment paper. It’s a very healthful way of cooking fish, in its own juices and little else. Sometimes I’d add slivers of thai bird chillies or slices of peach, but the method was always the same. This year, I’m planning to broil my fish more often. That little spot at the bottom of my oven doesn’t get enough airtime, and considering its ability to make sugar into caramel and turn anything that beautiful shade of brown, it really should.

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Syllabub

rivka — Sat, 16 Jan 2010 22:11:46 +0000

To Amanda Hesser’s list of foods whose names alone command that you make them, I add this quirky dessert. Syllabub! Every time in the past two weeks I’ve called it by name, it’s been met with total crack-up laughter. Don’t you want to make it too, just to be able to say you whipped something up and it’s called Syllabub? Ha.

Now that I’ve made it, I can tell you the name shouldn’t be your only motivation for giving Syllabub a whirl. I came across the recipe in an old issue of Saveur (1996, maybe?) that I was reading last weekend at a friend’s lake house in Wisconsin. The picture caught my eye: a big, heavy-bottomed glass was filled to the brim with what looked like vanilla custard, topped with a bit of lemon zest and a sprig of rosemary. Intrigued, I read the piece: turns out, syllabub is basically whipping cream combined with sherry and some flavorings. Something about the alcohol or the acid of the lemon juice (or maybe both) thicken the cream without much whipping — it’s very bizarre! — so very little, if any, work is necessary.

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Crispy Kale Chips

rivka — Fri, 08 Jan 2010 02:35:43 +0000

Hello there readers, and hello 2010! I’m back from Israel and hope you enjoyed the dispatches from abroad. In truth, there’s so much more to tell: a dear friend took D and me on a fabulous tour of the Old City’s Christian Quarter, where we ate amazingly fresh hummus, climbed down to secret underground cisterns, and visited a tucked-away Austrian hospice for excellent cappucinos and Jerusalem’s best apple streudel. And that was just one morning!

But now we’re back to the grind, and besides, you must be tired of my rants about my travels. You come here for recipes, and I aim to please. So let’s talk about kale chips, shall we?

I think I first read about crispy kale in the late Gourmet Mag. The recipe was as simple as they come — kale, olive oil, salt, pepper — and accompanying it were stunning photos of long, evergreen-colored leaves shooting out of a tall glass. Gourmet said the kale was the perfect cocktail party food, and looking at the pictures, I had to agree. I could envision these beautiful vases of kale chips placed on a long table, giving height to the usual array of flat cookie platters and cheese plates. Yum.

One evening, I had a bunch of kale to use up and decided to give the recipe a go. If it was a success, I figured, I’d make it at my next dinner party; the beautiful chips were certain to impress.

But then I ate one.

Can we discuss the fact that my entire mouth, like every single tooth, had green flecks all about? And flecks is an understatement. I might as well have colored my smile with green marker, it was that bad. Cocktail party food my #$@*^%!!! Kale chips are absolutely delicious — they’re crispy, and salty, and perfectly peppery, utterly addictive in short — but they’re something to be eaten at home alone, or with someone who really, really likes you. Either way, be prepared to laugh.

Don’t let me green teeth scare you away completely, though: these kale chips truly are delicious. If any of you have made New Year’s resolutions to eat more vegetables, consider this recipe a belated holiday gift. You can easily polish off an entire batch of kale this way.

Kale Chips
adapted from Gourmet

These chips are delicious just so, but they really pop with a last-minute squeeze of lemon, if you have it handy.

1 bunch kale, cleaned and dried, center stems removed
olive oil
salt
pepper
wedge of lemon, optional

Put the kale in a large plastic bag, drizzle about 1/8 cup olive oil inside, and shake and massage to combine. Add more oil to the bag as needed until all leaves are coated in the oil. Spread kale leaves in a single layer on as many baking sheets as you need, and sprinkle generously with salt and pepper. Bake at 300 for 20-25 minutes, until kale is crispy all over. Cooking time depends on age and dryness of kale, so watch carefully and remove when every piece is crispy. Serve immediately, and squeeze lemon overtop just before serving, if desired.

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Brussels Sprouts with Sriracha, Honey, and Lime

rivka — Mon, 21 Dec 2009 20:59:27 +0000

When the New Yorker lands in my mailbox each Tuesday, the first thing I read is the weekly restaurant write-up, Tables for Two. It’s short and sweet, and usually contains a brief description of one or two stand-out dishes. Every once in a while, I hear one of the descriptions and think, that sounds like something I should try to make. Even more rarely than that, I actually get off my derriere and try to make one of the recipes. This is one of those times.

The idea came from The Vanderbilt, a restaurant in Prospect Heights. According to the New Yorker, “the best dish might be the roasted Brussels sprouts, dressed with sriracha, lime, and honey, each bite a perfect combination of sweet, spicy, and tart.” They really did sound perfect, and given a) how simple the ingredient list sounded and b) the fact that I happened to have all four aformentioned ingredients in my house, I decided to give it a go. What better use of a snow day than turning dish descriptions into great food?

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Brussels Sprouts with “Bacon” and Pears

rivka — Mon, 07 Dec 2009 01:15:24 +0000

Yet another installment of my Weekday Lunch series, where I share recipes suited for home or the office.

Last Wednesday night, a colleague of mine had a pre-Thanksgiving Thanksgiving party. The idea is brilliant. Since most of us spend Tday with anyone from parents and siblings to in-laws and cousins twice removed, might as well take the night before to be with friends and surrogate family members, and to toast the holiday in style. And that’s just what we did. We ate butter chicken (spicy!) and Brussels sprouts with apples and the most trashy-chic tater tot casserole; we pigged out on pecan bars (from yours truly) and bread pudding and phenomenal ricotta cheesecake; and we washed it all down with lots and lots of bourbon. There truly is no better way to usher in Thanksgiving.

The next day, having landed in Detroit to spend the weekend with D’s family, those Brussels sprouts were still on my mind. They were perfectly caramelized, much softer in the middle than I usually make them, and speckled with little chunks of roasted apple, which provided the perfect sweet, tangy contrast to the smoky and just-barely-bitter sprouts.

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Cauliflower with Brown Butter

rivka — Thu, 03 Dec 2009 14:15:53 +0000

Part of the fun of food blogging is that my kitchen rarely sees the exact same dish twice. Driven by the need for new content, I’m always in search of the next great recipe. I abide some serious duds along the way, but they’re a necessary evil in this business, and well worth the pain when you consider that experimentation is the only way to unearth the new best recipe.

Folks, this is the new best recipe.

The minute I started to make it, I knew it’d be something special, and frankly, I’m a little shocked that in 26 years of eating mostly vegetarian food, 8 years of cooking for myself, 5 years of being really interested in food, and over 2 years of food blogging, I never came across this sublime combination. The minute the cauliflower hit the heat, I knew I’d struck the jackpot. Consider the nutty, sweet sides of cauliflower; you can imagine how brown butter might amplify that nuttiness. It plays the perfect foil to the sweetness as well, letting it come out without overwhelming you. A hit of lemon zest at the end of cooking brightens the flavors and cuts the richness, and a quick confetti of grated Parmigiano Reggiano adds that perfect amount of salt. Seriously, this is the best tasting thing I’ve had in so, so long. I made it twice in the two weeks before Thanksgiving, and I just bought more cauliflower to make it again. It’s perfect. If you don’t trust me, you can check out this NYT recipe and be just as weirded out as I am that Julia Moskin and I had the lightbulb moment at the same time. How bizarre.

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Broccoli with Capers and Olives, Two Ways

rivka — Sun, 08 Nov 2009 13:43:44 +0000

Finally, the next chapter of “Weekday Lunch,” where I offer recipes for food that fits in tupperware and warms in the office microwave.

This dish happened completely by accident. D had decided to order a pizza for dinner, and I decided to do something else, seeing as it would have been my fourth pizza meal of the week. (Ugh.) I did a quick scan of the fridge and saw a bag of nice-looking young broccoli that I’d picked up at the weekend farmers’ market. I also had the last of a tub of greek olives that I’d recently replaced with a new tub and wanted to use up, and the end of a jar of summer’s tomato sauce. There was about 1/4 of a box of macaroni left in the cupboard, so I figured I’d throw the last little bits of each of these to make a nice pasta dinner.

I started by finely chopping a shallot and heating a tab of butter in a large, shallow pan over medium-low heat. When the shallot was translucent and fragrant but not brown, I added about 1/2 teaspoon of red chili flakes and 2 cups of broccoli. I knew I planned to cook the broccoli just until al dente, but I wanted to use the stems as well as the florets, so I sliced the stems pretty finely — about 1/3-1/2-inch thick — so that they’d cook pretty quickly. I added a hefty pinch of salt and tossed the pan a couple times to combine.

Soon after adding the broccoli, I tossed in what was left of the olives, probably about 1/2 cup worth. I also added about a tablespoon of capers. At this point, the broccoli was heating up and had turned a vibrant shade of green. I wanted to preserve this color, so I added a very little bit of water from the pasta, which had already started to cook. Non-pasta water would have been fine as well, but it helps to have the water be hot, so that it doesn’t slow down the cooking.

After about five minutes, the broccoli was almost perfect; still that beautiful green shade, mostly cooked but still with a bite. I ended up adding several ladlefuls of my tomato sauce, and eventually some hot pasta, to make this dinner. But before tomatoes ever hit the pan, I looked down at the broccoli with its briny accompaniments and thought, gosh, this’d make a fantastic side. So there you have it; broccoli with capers and olives. I’d probably squeeze a bit of lemon if I were serving this alone; hitting it with some acidity would compliment the vegetal and salty flavors. I could see it served atop israeli couscous, or as an accompaniment to chicken. It was also pretty great mixed with tomato sauce and tossed with the end of the box of macaroni. Just sayin’.

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Soup of Fresh Shelling Beans and Sorrel

rivka — Mon, 19 Oct 2009 18:04:40 +0000

Is it Monday? I’m pretty sure it’s Monday. The last two weeks have been a blur of sniffles, tissues, and gallons (I mean it) of chai. I came down with a cold just around the start of the month. Chalk it up to a late recovery from August’s crunch time at work. I took a couple of days on the couch to recover, and when it started to fade, I headed back to the office. But the cold wasn’t finished yet, and by trying to rush it, I only invited it to extend its stay. Sure enough, it hung around, bringing a sinus infection to the party, and before I knew it, two weeks passed. Well now I’m better, but in anticipation of the many unwelcome colds sure to pay visits this summer, I’ll share a godsend of a recipe with you. It’s for a soup so simple, yet so restorative, that I probably wouldn’t have made it through the past half-month without it.

One morning when I was feeling unusually chipper, I shelled some fresh cranberry beans and threw them in a pot. I added a couple teaspoons of olive oil, half an onion chopped, 2 whole cloves of garlic, water, and, about 20 minutes in, a big bunch of sorrel leaves (NOT the stems, which, I learned the hard way, separate into sharp spindles that are incredibly NOT fun to eat, especially when glands are swollen. Ouch.) I let the whole thing boil away for 25 minutes total; by then, the beans were pretty soft but not mushy, the sorrel was fully cooked, and the broth was incredibly fragrant and a bit tart from the sorrel.

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Crostini of All Sorts

rivka — Mon, 05 Oct 2009 17:23:31 +0000

During a recent stop at the bookstore on my street, Idle Time Books (which, btw, had a cameo in A Few Good Men), I was thumbing through cookbook author Deborah Madison’s latest book, What We Eat When We Eat Alone, which she co-wrote with her artist-partner Patrick McFarlin. WWEWWEA (liberally abbreviating the long title here…) is a funny and shockingly intimate account of the ways in which, in the absence of others, food becomes our animated companion. It’s a book that draws you in, and before I knew it, I had plopped down on the floor to dig in, and was reading about pouring sardine juice onto cottage cheese and eating it on one foot at the open refrigerator. I laughed out loud as I thought about similar moments I’ve had, grabbing a bite standing up while I peer into the fridge for my next little nibble.

In the spirit of celebrating this wonderful little book, I’ll tell you about one thing I invariably eat lots of when it’s just me in the house: crostini.

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Carrot-Zucchini Bread

rivka — Fri, 02 Oct 2009 00:30:26 +0000

This is the kind of recipe I live for. It reminds me of those really good bran muffins you find at local coffee shops, with the nutty, wholesome flavors and tops that crust around the edges and never are perfectly round. It’s got a more well-defined crumb than carrot kugel, but it’s not as sweet as carrot cake, and grated zucchini lends it sophistication. Not that this is a snobby loaf — just the opposite. It takes about 5 minutes to mix together, and the 80-minute baking time lets you actually get something else done while you wait. I brought it to our pre-Yom Kippur meal on Sunday afternoon, but it’d make a phenomenal breakfast or afternoon snack.

special thanks to reader Catherine for pointing out that I failed to mention the eggs in the ingredient list. Sorry everyone! Three eggs.

Carrot Bread
adapted loosely from Bon Appetit

1 1/2 cups all-purpose flour
1/2 cup white whole wheat flour
1 tsp. cinnamon
1/2 tsp. salt
1 tsp. baking soda
1/4 tsp. baking powder
1/2 cup brown sugar
3/4 cup cane sugar
1/2 cup vegetable oil
1/4 cup applesauce
3 eggs
2 cups grated carrot
1 cup grated zucchini

Preheat oven to 350°F. Butter and flour 9x5x3-inch loaf pan. Sift first 6 ingredients into medium bowl. Beat sugar, oil, eggs, applesauce, and vanilla to blend in large bowl. Mix in zucchini and carrot. Add dry ingredients and stir well.

Transfer batter to prepared pan. Bake until tester inserted into center comes out clean, about 1 hour 20 minutes. Cool bread in pan on rack 15 minutes. Cut around bread to loosen. Turn out onto rack and cool completely. (Can be prepared 1 day ahead. Wrap in foil and let stand at room temperature.)

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Pickles!

rivka — Fri, 25 Sep 2009 22:30:48 +0000

Folks, I’m finding it hard to contain my excitement about NDP’s second-ever guest post. Guess who wrote it? MY MOM!

That’s right: in the post below, NDP Ima tells you all about easy-to-make, hard-to-stop-eating pickles. You’ll see from her intro paragraph where I got my taste buds. These pickles are salty, tangy, and really bright from the addition of fresh dill. So read up — then go make some pickles!

I am really not a salt lover. I don’t use much when I cook, and in restaurants great food that’s well-seasoned is often too salty for my taste. I don’t care for chips or french fries, and I prefer nuts spicy or au naturel. Nonetheless, I do love briny salty things – olives, capers, and sour pickles. So when I was leaving town for a long weekend and had a lot of small cucumbers that wouldn’t last until my return, I decided to try my hand at some pickles. I wanted spicy, garlicky, dill pickles that would make themselves in the refrigerator while I was gone. I remembered the ones a family friend used to make with cucumbers from his garden and my dad’s. He didn’t use shortcuts, though – he put his pickles in huge crocks of brine and alum in the basement for weeks.

I cut the cukes into thick, chunky slices and placed them in a quart jar with pickling spices and garlic. I didn’t have any fresh dill, so my first batch just had dill seed from the pickling spice, but it still tasted authentic. I prepared the vinegar brine and filled the jar, leaving it upside down on the counter overnight. The next morning, before rushing to the airport, I put the jar in the frig. When I returned four nights later, the pickles were done to perfection!
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Salmon with Herb Butter and Various Roasted Vegetables

rivka — Sun, 13 Sep 2009 20:01:05 +0000

D and I had people over Friday night. As of Thursday, I not only had done no cooking, I hadn’t even figured out my menu. Now, I’m not one to plan these things all too far in advance — but 24 hours is not much time to plan, shop, and make food for a dinner party. Not impossible, but not ideal.

When I’m cutting it close to the wire, I tend to keep it as simple as possible. I picked up a bunch of salmon fillets and all the good-looking vegetables that TJs had to offer. Without much time to contemplate interesting recipes and a lingering fear of making the whole house smell like fish, I wrapped each piece of salmon individually in parchment paper and tucked a bit of herb butter inside. The herb butter infuses the salmon while it steams, and the end result is both healthy, flavorful, and much less potent. No fish smell whatsoever in the house as of Saturday morning.

I made a vinaigrette with the herb butter, some capers, and lots of lemon and lime, and served it alongside the fish. In retrospect, I should have just made the vinaigrette first and skipped the herb butter step entirely; that’s the recipe I provide below. It’s a simple presentation that almost always pleases.

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Granola with Tahini

rivka — Wed, 09 Sep 2009 16:25:52 +0000

Ahh lovely readers, I’ve missed you! I’ve been posting sporadically at best for the past month, because work has been absolutely insane and I haven’t had time to even enter the kitchen, let alone write about it. That last post on zucchini soup was my lame attempt to give you reading material while I was at work, so as not to abandon you completely — but I unwittingly passed along a post from last year, just before my Alaska cruise, and let you all think I was headed on a fabulous vacation. Not so! I spent Labor Day…..well, laboring. At the office. Until very late. But now all that should be behind me because we signed off on our research yesterday, and all that’s left to do is write the accompanying speech. I’m hoping today is the beginning of my re-entry into my favorite room of the apartment. Cross your fingers for me, will you?

Busy times at the office need to end with something restorative. Sometimes it’s a big bowl of pho, with its etherial broth and slurp-tastic noodles. Other times it’s a piece of good toast with some homemade jam. This morning, the first in a month that I haven’t had to start a 15-hour day at 8:30 am, I made my own granola.

I once was in the habit of making granola every week. It’s a good thing to have around for breakfast in the morning, and it pairs great with that super-tart yogurt in the fridge. But lately there’s been no time for such simple pleasures, and breakfast has consisted mostly of whatever I grabbed the night before at Trader Joe’s. Needless to say, I was more than ready to put my own labor hours back into the food I eat.

My usual granola has almond butter, which I find creates clumps better than water or oil and whose flavor doubles down on the granola’s nutty flavor. This morning, though, I was out of almond butter, so I went with tahini (sesame butter), which has a similar texture, instead. To balance the flavor of tahini, which can be overwhelming if not used sparingly, I added a splash of walnut oil, as well as a bit of chopped crystallized ginger, which paired well with the sesame flavor and gave a little punch. A generous pinch of cinnamon and a whisper of cloves brought the granola squarely into fall’s territory, which I suppose is appropriate, given that the weather is dreary and it’s dark when I wake up these days.

I was still concerned that the tahini might overwhelm, but it totally doesn’t: because the granola cooks until golden, the other flavors in there — almonds, oats, ginger, cherries, raisins — get a chance to toast and intensify, bringing the sesame flavor into balance. I LOVE this batch and plan on making another one, some other not-super-early morning.

Hope you all had great weekends, and I look forward to seeing you around here more regularly!

Granola with Tahini

2 1/2 cups oats
1/3 cup maple syrup
1/4 cup tahini
1 Tbsp walnut oil, optional
2/3 cup pepitas (pumpkin seeds), either salted or unsalted, depending on preference
2/3 cup sliced almonds
2/3 cup chopped pecans
2/3 cup raisins, cranberries, or other dried berry (I like half raisins, half cherries)
2 Tbsp chopped crystallized ginger
1/2 tsp salt
1 teaspoon cinnamon
1/8 teaspoon cloves

Preheat oven to 325.

In a small bowl, mix syrup, tahini, oil if using, salt, and cinnamon until incorporated. In a large bowl, mix all remaining ingredients until well-distributed. Drizzle the syrup-tahini mixture overtop, stirring with a fork until all dry bits are at least slightly wet and clumps have started to form.

Spread granola on a large rimmed baking sheet in a thin layer and bake at 325 for 10-12 minutes. Remove from oven, stir with a fork to move pieces from edge to center and from top to bottom. Make sure pieces that have started to brown are in the center and well-surrounded. Return to oven and bake 10-12 more minutes, until golden brown throughout. Granola will not be crunchy when it leaves the oven; don’t worry — it’ll crisp up as it cools. Once cool, transfer to air-tight container; granola will keep this way for up to 1 month.

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Smoky Corn Salad

rivka — Mon, 31 Aug 2009 02:42:28 +0000

So sorry that posts have been so few and far between (and so short) lately. I’m doing my best to offer some great summer suggestions between work and work — bear with me; just two more weeks of this insanity, and I’ll be back on track.

Meanwhile, hopefully you’re taking advantage of the last of summer’s produce more than I am. If you find yourself swimming in corn, this smoky number is a great variation on the corn salad theme. It combines raw corn that’s charred in a smoking castiron pan, poblanos that are cooked over an open flame to remove the skins and intensify their flavor, a bit of red onion, and of course, some of those delightfully plump and round cherry tomatoes that are so good this time of year. The method is so simple it’s a joke: just char everything in the castiron pan all together, and add the tomatoes just before serving. It’s just the way to take advantage of summer’s abundance. Have a plate in my honor, and once I crawl out from under this rock, I’ll be back in the kitchen in no time.

Smoky Corn Salad

3 ears of corn, husks and fibers removed
1 cup cherry tomatoes, halved
1/4 of a red onion, diced
2 poblano peppers
1/2 a jalapeno, diced, optional
1/4 tsp. smoked spanish paprika
olive oil
salt
pepper
1 lime

Roast poblanos over an open flame, turning to blister skin on all sides. When fully blistered, turn off heat and transfer peppers to a paper bag or roll inside tinfoil. let steam for 5 minutes, then run under water to remove skins. Chop roughly and set aside.

Heat castiron or heavy stainless steel pan over high heat. Remove corn from cob, and combine with chopped onions and jalapeno, if using. Add 1 tablespoon olive oil to pan and immediately add corn mixture. Toss to coat, then let sit for a 30 seconds at a time just to develop a real char on the kernels. Add smoked paprika, and add salt to taste. Keep tossing and charring, tossing and charring, until there are enough brown spots to give some serious smoky flavor. Remove from heat, add tomatoes, and toss to combine. Transfer to a plate, and squeeze 1 fresh lime overtop. Serve warm or at room temperature.

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Marcella Hazan’s Pesto

rivka — Sat, 22 Aug 2009 22:04:52 +0000

Basil is aplenty at DC’s farmers’ markets. This week, my favorite farmer was selling massive bags of the stuff for just $3.99. I probably came home with a good 2 pounds of basil — hard to imagine considering how light it is. There was only one thing to do: make pesto.

The last time I blogged about pesto, I largely focused on the method. Heidi at 101 Cookbooks had written about making pesto like an Italian grandmother, and I was inspired enough by her post to give the old fashioned knife-on-board method a try. The result was wonderful — chunky and rustic, with plenty of the irregularity that’s the hallmark of handmade things. But given how busy I’ve been at work lately, standing in the kitchen slaving over chopped basil just wasn’t in the cards for today. Instead, I followed the sage advice of another Italian grandmother, Marcella Hazan. I pulled her Essentials of Classic Italian Cooking off the shelf and set about to make pesto using her (apparently sanctioned) food processor method.

Before you roll your eyes and call me a fraud, it’s in her book: Pesto, food processor method. Apparently the Italian goddess is fine with it. Plus, if that’s not enough evidence for you, I once heard Lynn Rosetto Casper, the formidable chef and host of APM’s radio show The Splendid Table, say that if you go to the Liguria region of Italy, to Genoa, where pesto originated, and follow the tips from the locals to the actual neighborhood in Genoa where pesto was actually invented, the Italian grandmothers there use food processors! That was the last time I had a second thought about whizzing the stuff together.

I think Hazan’s recipe is the best one I’ve ever made. The balance between basil, pine nuts, raw, pungent garlic, and Parmigiano Reggiano and Romano cheeses is just teetering in equilibrium. I also used a truly olive-y olive oil that I got on a twitter rec (Aria, available at Whole Foods), which may have made the difference. In any event, it’s a recipe I wouldn’t hesitate to make again. So hurry out to your market while basil’s still available, and try this pesto. It’d even make Marcella proud.

Marcella Hazan’s Pesto
I doubled the recipe and got about a pint, so this makes about 1/2 a pint

2 cups tightly packed basil leaves
3 tablespoons pine nuts
1/2 cup olive oil
2 garlic cloves, chopped fine before being added to the processor
1/2 cup grated Parmigiano Reggiano cheese
2 tablespoons grated Romano cheese
3 tablespoons butter, softened

Blend all ingredients except cheese and butter until relatively smooth. Fold in cheese by hand to give that chunky, rustic texture. Fold in softened butter, incorporating it evenly into the pesto.

If freezing, do not add cheese and butter; add to thawed pesto just before serving. Top with a thin layer of olive oil, which will help keep pesto green.
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Not So Potato-y Salad

rivka — Sun, 09 Aug 2009 08:42:11 +0000

From a vege-mostly-tarian’s perspective, spring and summer are the seasons to beat. Fresh fruit and vegetables are available in abundance, and the variety, especially in summer, is simply unmatched. I make at least one salad a day; using anything from the usual lettuce and Israeli cucumbers to radishes to carrots to tomatoes and nectarines, mushrooms and garlic scapes and beets and even raw kale (my newest addition), I rarely repeat ingredients two days in a row.

It’s in this light that barbeque food confuses the hell out of me; why, when there are so many beautiful fruits and vegetables available, do we resort to coleslaws and potato salads that are literally choking on my gloppy, quivering, nemesis, the devil named Mayo? Those thick, white dressings are a “no, thanks” for me, but if we’re going to use them, why not when we’re on our 20th batch of kale and need to get creative about masking the taste of winter? I simply don’t get the desire to coat delicious summer vegetables in all that goop. …And the Mayo gripes resume.

While I almost always serve a leafy green salad with meals these days, I did buy some really beautiful tiny tomatoes at the Foggy Bottom market last week, which gave me an occasion to reconsider the merits of potato salad. I’m not a huge potato person, but I get the appeal of having a side dish that’s got some starch and substance but isn’t the same old rice or other grain. However, instead of putting the potatoes front and center, I decided to make room for other vegetables to share the limelight. Happily, the market provided many options. I settled on some pattypan, small summer squash that are shaped somewhat like a flying saucer, as well as some nice-looking green beans.

After boiling, shocking, and slicing the potatoes, I sliced and blanched the zucchini. I left the green beans raw, for crunch, and I’m glad I did — they provided a much-needed contrast to the softer vegetables. I coated the salad in a light, tangy, slightly spicy shallot-mustard vinaigrette, which complemented the slight bitterness of the zucchini and gave otherwise boring potatoes some real character. All in all, this is the type of potato salad I’d actually go for: it highlights summer produce instead of masking it, and its tangy flavors will make a great addition to any barbeque.

Not So Potato-y Salad

1 pound small (like, really small) red and yellow potatoes
2 long summer squash (yellow or green), sliced into 1/2-inch slices
1 pound green beans, halved
2 shallots, diced finely
2 teaspoons coarse dijon mustard
1 teaspoon honey
1/4 cup sherry or white wine vinegar
1/8 cup olive oil
1 teaspoon walnut oil, optional
salt and pepper

Boil potatoes in 4 cups water until soft but not mushy, about 10 minutes. Using a slotted spoon, remove potatoes and transfer to serving bowl. Let cool 15 minutes.

Meanwhile, blanch squash slices in potato water about 2 minutes, just until soft. Drain and run under cold water for a couple seconds to stop cooking. Transfer to serving bowl.

Slice potatoes into rounds, and transfer to serving bowl. Add green beans and toss to mix.

In a small bowl or dressing jar, combine all remaining ingredients except oil. Pour oil in a slow stream, whisking to combine. If using jar, shake vigorously to emulsify. Add dressing to salad and toss about 10 minutes before serving. Serve at room temperature.

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Summer Succotash

rivka — Tue, 28 Jul 2009 14:20:55 +0000

Round next of my weekday lunch series, where I post about dishes that’ll put PB&J to shame.

I love the flavor of buttery, salty, corn on the cob. I love it even more now that I’ve discovered the sweetest corn ever, from Toigo Orchards. Toigo sets up shop at the Dupont farmers’ market; their corn has apparently won “best at the market” several years in a row. The last time I bought it, I was told it was picked the day before; it doesn’t get much fresher than that. And having tried other ears, they really don’t compare. Some are too starchy, and others have a thick, almost leathery skin around the kernel, whereas Toigo’s ears are sweet, the thin-skinned kernels practically bursting with juice.

Having bought quite a few ears last week, I was searching for new things to do with them come week’s end. For dinner on Friday night, I served this succotash dish — a very simple play on that classic Southern staple. It’s got the flavor of sweet, salty cob corn but with just a drizzle of olive oil instead of the usual butter. I bulked up the succotash with some chopped green beans, which I left on the raw side, and panfried zucchini, which I essentially seared in a smoking but oil-less castiron pan, then allowed to soften in the serving bowl. The succotash gets a boost from freshly-squeezed lemon juice and a bit of the lemon’s zest, but other than that, olive oil, salt, and pepper are its only seasoning. When the produce is this good, you don’t want to doctor it up much more than that.

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Andalusian Gazpacho

rivka — Sun, 19 Jul 2009 12:34:54 +0000

Please welcome my friend Jeremy, who was bold enough to suggest guest-posting on my blog and kind enough to follow through. He brought over a jar of this gazpacho and when I dunked a spoon in for a taste, I ended up finishing half the jar. It’s the perfect summer soup, and I’m thrilled to be featuring it on NDP.

The height of summer means the height of tomato season, and in our house that means gazpacho season. Now, this means different things to different people. Some are partial to a soup that could easily be mistaken for salsa. Others are all about the cucumbers or the bell peppers. I’ve even heard people refer to a perfectly lovely watermelon soup as gazpacho, though I’d like to think any self-respecting Spaniard would scoff at this. For my money — and we’ll get to how it doesn’t need to be a lot of money in a minute — this easy-to-make gazpacho is the way to go. My spouse and I came upon the basis for this recipe (from Epicurious) some years ago, and over time we’ve adapted it and turned it into a staple of our summertime repertoire.

All in you’re talking about 15 minutes of work for a gazpacho that puts the tomatoes right where they belong: front and center. It’s substantial enough with a hunk of fresh baguette to make for a great mid-week meal just sitting at the coffee table. It’s refined enough, topped with fresh chives, to lead off a small dinner party. And it’s casual enough to serve spoonless in teacups or shot glasses for larger gatherings. It’s just about a perfect summer soup, which is why we perpetually have a big jar of it in the fridge until tomatoes go out of season. And did I mention it’ll keep for close to a week?
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Linguini with Artichokes and Sweet Peas

rivka — Sun, 28 Jun 2009 22:25:50 +0000

Here’s another round of my “weekday lunch” series, where I offer recipes that’ll make your colleagues green with envy.

Peas are one of those foods that have completely changed for me since I started shopping at the farmers’ market. In regular grocery stores (that aren’t Fairway, Whole Foods or Dean and Delucca), it’s pretty rare to find whole peas in the pod. If you want peas, you’re likely headed for the frozen section or even the canned section (though I really think that frozen peas are 100x better than canned). The first time I saw peas at the farmers’ market, I was mystified: peas come in a pod, with a couple of teeny leaves on one end — and unlike canned or frozen peas, they’re completely raw.

I’ve now made this recipe twice, and I can assure you that raw peas really make all the difference. These pictures are from the time I made it with frozen peas, and you can see that the peas are kind of shriveled in places; that’s because frozen peas are already cooked, so even a quick blanch or a toss in the pan makes them soften and shrivel. When using raw peas, you can do a super-quick blanch or saute and still keep the integrity of the peas shape. And that’s not to mention how much sweeter fresh peas are! They actually taste like….peas. It’s wonderful.
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Avocado Tomato Salad

rivka — Sat, 13 Jun 2009 23:12:02 +0000

It’d be a shame to spend too much of this day indoors, because it’s beautiful outside and I have an all-day pool pass — so I’m going to keep this short: It’s summer, people! That means I’m barely to be seen at the grocery store, stocking up on fruit and veggies almost exclusively at the three nearby farmers’ markets to supplement my CSA. I’m high on summer produce.

Avocados and tomatoes are especially excellent right now. Tomatoes haven’t quite hit their peak, but I picked up some beautiful heirlooms this morning and we enjoyed them in salad, with a bit of salt and not much else. Last week, I had some beautiful on-the-vine tomatoes in the house, as well as some perfectly ripe avocados and some baby lettuce from a friend’s garden, so I threw together a really simple salad that’s definitely going to be a staple on my plate this season. It’s just lettuce, avocados, tomatoes, a crumble or two of my usual Keswick Creamery feta, and some lemon, salt, and pepper. It doesn’t get much simpler or better than that.
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Wheatberry Salad with Cranberries, Feta, and Mint

rivka — Tue, 02 Jun 2009 01:32:34 +0000

Yet another installment of my weekday lunch series; you can never have enough recipes for midday workplace eats.

I don’t have anything to share about this recipe that’s particularly exciting. It’s just another rendition of my standard grain+bean+berry+herb salad formula. But I realized as I made this salad that it was my first time making wheatberries. At least, I’m pretty sure it was my first time — in any event, it definitely won’t be my last. Wheatberries are pretty underrated, so much so that when I served them last Friday night, most everyone around the table asked what they were. “Wheat,” I replied. No one got it; “What part of the wheat? Like, they’re really just wheat? Are they some sort of berries that grow off the wheat crop?” No, I replied, it’s really just wheat. Funny that we don’t know what the food we eat most often actually looks like, but that’s a story for another time.

Wheatberries are sweet and nutty, with a nice solid texture. They’re probably super versatile; I can envision them in a variety of salads, soups, and stews. Writing that line, I just remembered that I’ve actually used wheatberries before, when making the Sephardic version of cholent, the rib-sticking stew made on Friday and cooked at a low temperature through the night. Unlike the Eastern European recipe of barley, beans, potatoes, beef, and eggs, the Sephardic version, called “Hamin,” is made with wheatberries, chickpeas, and dates in addition to the beef, chicken, and other leftovers. The wheatberries are cooked inside cheesecloth wrapper within the dish, so they can be piled separately onto the plate as a bed for the rest of the goodies.
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Bulgur with Black Eyed Peas, Spinach and Dates

rivka — Thu, 14 May 2009 19:44:00 +0000

Yet another installment of my weekday lunch series. You can never have enough work-lunch-friendly dishes, now can you?

I work on the ninth floor of my firm’s office building. There are lots of conference rooms on our floor, and when a lunch meeting yields leftovers, they usually make their way into the ninth floor kitchen, which happens to be right across from my cubicle. When we hear the clomp-clomp of high heels in the kitchen and the rustling of plastic trays and wrap paper, we know it’s going to be good. Within seconds, my entire pod will have descended on the kitchen, scavenging for the best wrap, the freshest-looking corner of the spinach salad, the last piece of baklava. After poking around for ourselves, we’ll shoot out an email to our friends down the hall alerting them to the free food bonanza. We’re that nice.

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Rigatoni with Broccoli Rabe

rivka — Tue, 12 May 2009 11:09:15 +0000

If you’re a regular reader of this blog, you know by now that I’m a self proclaimed ingredient-adder. I’ve got issues leaving things simple: I find myself constantly tempted to tinker, to add just one more spice or sauce or vegetable or seed or something. I’ve been working on it, folks, really I have, but it ain’t easy.

As much as I’m inclined to clean out my pantry into a recipe, there are certain recipes that are not to be futzed with. One of those recipes is Marcella Hazan’s pasta with broccoli rabe. Hazan is a legendary Italian cook and cookbook author. Her directions are so very precise, her knowledge and expertise so colossal, I’d be crazy to fiddle with her ingredients or proportions.
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Quinoa Salad with Tofu, Beets, and Avocado

rivka — Wed, 06 May 2009 18:35:58 +0000

This is another installment of my “weekday lunch” series, where I offer suggestions for dishes that can hang out in your tupperware til 12:30 rolls around. For other weekday lunch options, see my weekday lunch archive page.

Here’s a super-easy salad that holds up very well in the tupperware container. It came together late one night when the contents of my fridge were scarce and I needed lunch for the next day. Red quinoa — available at Whole Foods and other similar stores, both in packages and in the bulk section — is a wholesome and nutritious grain, actually a berry, that takes about 15 minutes to steam. I cooked some quinoa (about 1 cup raw), chopped up two small beets I’d roasted earlier in the week, sliced up one avocado and one small block of teriyaki-marinated baked tofu, tossed them all together, and drizzled some rice vinaigrette over the salad (recipe below). It doesn’t get much easier than that. The bonus upside to bringing quinoa for lunch is that, unlike other grains, quinoa holds its shape and crunch very well even in the fridge overnight and in tupperware, and doesn’t tend to clump together or get sticky.

If you’re in a rush, this is really a perfect salad to throw together. And as always, feel free to improvise my recipe, adjusting for the contents of your fridge. I could imagine adding greens, red bell peppers, edamame, perhaps some raisins, even almonds or other sliced nuts for crunch. Get to it!

Rice Wine Vinaigrette

1 tsp. finely grated ginger or 1/2 tsp. powdered ginger
4 Tbsp. rice wine vinegar
1 tsp. sugar
1 tsp. soy sauce
1/2 Tbsp. lemon juice
3 Tbsp. olive oil
1 Tbsp. sesame oil

Combine all ingredients except for oil, and whisk vigorously. Add oil in a steady stream, whisking all the while, until well combined. Drizzle several Tbsp. of the dressing over the salad and toss to coat. Serve cool or at room temperature.
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Oven-Roasted Olives

rivka — Thu, 23 Apr 2009 11:50:59 +0000

In recent years, a slew of upscale pizza places have sprouted up to sate the ever-growing yuppie appetite for $13 (or $15, or $20) pies. Just look at Manhattan and Brooklyn: they’re bursting with fancy pizza points, from the old-school Lombardi’s and my favorite Grimaldi’s to the newer Roberta’s and Co., dreamt up by the breadmaster Jim Lahey. Washington is following suit, in its own more muted way, and by now we’ve actually got a few great spots for the ultimate Neapolitan treat.

One such spot, Two Amys, is a standby in this house. We pop over there at least once a month, and by now we’re buddy-buddy with a waitress, we know our favorite wine on the menu, and we’ve even found a bus that takes us, literally, from door to door.

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Spaghetti with Ramps

rivka — Sun, 19 Apr 2009 16:58:39 +0000

Hello out there! Sorry to have abandoned ship for the past week — due to Passover, I’ve been subsisting on a strange diet of matzah, farmers cheese, avocado, and salad. Not exactly the stuff worthy of a blog post. Most people would rather clean their bathroom than volunteer to host a dinner party the day after Passover ends, but moi? I’ve been itching to get back in the kitchen something serious. So yesterday, I did just that. I cooked up dinner for some of D’s law school friends and relished every minute of my time with my dishes, my kitchenaid, and best of all — FLOUR.

As if eating carbs again weren’t cause enough for celebration, have you looked outside? It’s Spring! The cherry blossoms here in DC are in full bloom (many are already past their bloom, which means the grass is blanketed in pink) and the weather this weekend has been just gorgeous — a perfect 76 and sunny today, in fact. I couldn’t be happier about the weather; so you better believe last night’s menu took full advantage not only of the end of the holiday, but of the start of my favorite season.

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Strawberry Avocado Salad

rivka — Mon, 06 Apr 2009 15:13:50 +0000

Not exactly a recipe, but this was a part of my Sunday morning breakfast last week and I couldn’t resist sharing it. It’s a sign of the warmer days that are (I hope!) just around the corner, and it’s a healthy and filling alternative to my usual morning grind. It’s also dead simple to make. So what are you waiting for?

Strawberry Avocado Salad

1 lb. pea shoots, arugula, or other nice-looking salad greens
1 pint strawberries, washed and sliced
2 avocados, sliced
champagne vinaigrette or other mild vinaigrette

Transfer the greens to a big salad bowl, and salt and pepper them. Distribute strawberry and avocado slices overtop. Drizzle the vinaigrette around the sides of the salad bowl, (in other words, dress the bowl, not the salad) and toss the salad around to coat very thinly with the dressing.

Serve with some crusty baguette, some good cheese, or even a bowl of good organic yogurt.

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Meringues (Finally)

rivka — Tue, 17 Mar 2009 00:54:32 +0000

For all those anticipating Passover, these meringues are the perfect Passover dessert. They require no flour or leavening, but actually taste good. I simply can’t go the week without them.

I was looking through my archived photos today and discovered something utterly shocking: I’ve had a website for…how long now? a year and a half?…and somehow escaped until today without posting a recipe for one of my most reliable, fool-proof, standby, can’t-live-without desserts. I make them all all all the time, especially when I have leftover egg whites. On top of being nearly effortless to make, they achieve one of the rare feat of being both non-dairy and delicious. Like I said, rare.

Meringues, my friends, meringues. They are a fundamental part of my dessert repertoire, and the basis for many other desserts (including, among others, this crazy buche de noel, and the ultimate meringue-based dessert, Macarons.

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The Makings of a Middle Eastern Lunch

rivka — Thu, 12 Mar 2009 02:51:27 +0000

Hard to believe it’s already Thursday and another Saturday is nearly upon us. I’m still thinking about last weekend’s 75-degree weather and super-chill Mediterranean style lunch. A trip to NYC will prevent me from repeating that meal this Saturday, but if I could, I would, in half a heartbeat. It’s the obvious way straight to my heart: breads, spreads, salad, and a glass of wine. Easy to please, no?

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Edamame Cabbage Slaw with Sweet Potatoes

rivka — Sat, 14 Feb 2009 16:30:00 +0000

Hello from vacationland! We’re in Israel for the next few days and beyond thrilled to be back. It’s been way, way too long — almost two years since I lived here. I’ve missed every bit of it. Yesterday, I spent the most lovely afternoon at the shuk (market) with my dear dear friend S. We met up in my favorite corner of the shuk… A little cafe tucked in the back portion that’s locals only and serves up a mean cup of coffee. After lots of hugs, kisses and catch up, we ran around to the different vendors so that I could grab my favorite spices (more on those in a future post…) And met up with her mom, where I freshened up on my slightly-rough but actually not-too-bad Hebrew. We spent the past 24 hours hanging out with family and friends, relaxing and eating copious amounts of food. Tonight we’re planning on hitting up another of my favorite restaurants, Tmol Shilshom. There’s something at once familiar and refreshing about being in a place I used to call home; it’s wonderful to be back.

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Braised Pearl Onions

rivka — Wed, 11 Feb 2009 21:20:43 +0000

Readers Dearest,
In a few short hours, I will be heading off for an all-too-short but nonetheless-exciting week-long vacation. While this means awesomeness for me, you’re probably not as excited. Here’s something to perk up your day: the post below is about a recipe that’s delicious and easy to make, best combo ever. Also, I’ve done my best to stick a couple posts in the wings, so as to keep you entertained and sated in my absence. Keep reading — more importantly, keep cooking — and I’ll be back in no time.

You can stop reading now if you’re an onion hater. Clearly, this isn’t for you. Where were we? Ah yes, pearl onions. They’re baby onions, basically. They’re a bit larger than pearls — at least, any pearls I can afford — but they’re certainly elegant. They come in red, yellow, and white — just like large onions — and you can get all three colors mixed together at Trader Joe’s.
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Zucchini Ricotta Tart

rivka — Mon, 09 Feb 2009 03:45:10 +0000

D and I host Friday night dinner pretty regularly. Being the slight lunatic that I am, prep usually starts on Tuesday, if not earlier. I start thinking about themes, poking around online and in my cookbooks for possible main courses, and trying to decide what vibe I want to create. Is this an apps and wine crowd, or more of a straight-to-the-table kind of meal? Are we going meat or dairy? (Usually we do dairy; I simply can’t part with butter for dessert.) Is it cold enough for soup or even a one-pot-meal? Etc.

This past weekend, D and I were so pooped from the long week that we decided to do just the two of us for dinner. Our friends Kira and Dina also wanted something low key, so we decided to combine forces. K and D would bring salad and a vegetable side, I’d make soup, some sort of tart, and dessert. We had challah in the freezer and plenty of wine on the rack.
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Best Cauliflower EVER

rivka — Wed, 28 Jan 2009 14:43:48 +0000

Before you get annoyed that the title of this post is dramatic without being descriptive, consider the following: this recipe has 6 ingredients, including salt. It takes 25 minutes start to finish and is easily the most delicious cauliflower dish I I’ve ever had ever ever. Ever. Better to tell the world how wonderful it is than to try to name what can only be described as good, yes?

Now then, let me tell you about cauliflower with capers and sherry vinegar. That’s all that’s in this — save for a drizzle or two of olive oil and a sprinkle of salt — but it’s good, lip-smackingly good. No surprise that it comes from the king of simple, Mark Bittman, and his wonderful bible “How to Cook Everything Vegetarian.” Having cooked from it and read many chapters straight through, I think I can safely say that it’s the best $23.10 you can spend in the cookbook section. Check it out here.

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Dutch Babies and New Years Day Brunch Ideas

rivka — Wed, 31 Dec 2008 22:03:02 +0000

December 31 is upon us! I’m expecting thousands of drunken belligerent psychos to descend on my neighborhood tonight, and if you think I’m excited, I’m actually going elsewhere. Nothing I hate more than Adams Morgan on New Years Eve. Tomorrow morning, however, is another story entirely. The streets will be dead, most def. I love waking up on New Years Day to total silence, enjoying yummy but easy breakfast and hot tea in my bathrobe, and being altogether lazy.

Even if you’re like me and breakfast/brunch is your thing, I’m sure you feel me that cooking on New Years morning isn’t exactly an appealing thought. Especially if you’re hosting tomorrow morning, surely you want something easy to make, but with big wow-factor. A Dutch Baby is just the thing. It’s a big, floppy, eggy pancake that puffs up beautifully in the oven; pull it out, top with some stewed fruit and a dusting of powdered sugar, and ta-da! Perfect breakfast entree. It takes 20 minutes to bake and about 15 seconds to mix up. Can’t complain about that prep time, now can you?

Just in case a hot, fluffy, fruit-topped pancake isn’t your thing (but really, who are we kidding?) I’ve included links to some other good New Years brunch recipes below. Have yourselves a safe and rockin’ evening, and a very Happy New Year!

New Years Day Brunch Ideas:

Rich and creamy apricot-stuffed french toast
Lazy, boozy french toast casserole
Easy vintage breakfast biscuits
Ever-popular and dead easy shakshuka
Any kind of frittata, any kind at all
Blackberry and pear clafoutis — perfect for winter

There are plenty more where those came from — just run a quick search through my breakfast-and-brunch category and see what pops up. Enjoy!

Dutch Babies
basic recipe courtesy of Lara at Cook and Eat

This recipe makes enough for one large pancake, which will feed two hungry people. For a larger pancake, double the recipe and use a large stainless steel or castiron pan.

2 eggs
pinch of salt
1/4 cup flour
1/4 cup milk
1 T unsalted butter

Preheat the oven to 425F.

Whisk the eggs with the pinch of salt until they just begin to get a little fluffy. Gradually whisk in the milk and flour and continue to whisk until smooth.

Melt the butter in a 5-inch cast iron pan. Then, pour the egg mixture over the butter. Move the pan immediately to the hot oven. Bake for 20 to 25 minutes, or until it puffs up over the edges of the pan and is a rich golden brown on the edges.

Top with any kind of stewed fruit, or even good-quality preserves, and finish with a dusting of powdered sugar. I used poached quince that I had leftover — delicious.

“Too rich and dark” chocolate pudding

rivka — Wed, 24 Dec 2008 14:56:23 +0000

A while back, I made some chipotle chocolate pudding parfaits. Humbly speaking, they were pretty darn awesome. At least, I thought so. D? Not so much. She prefers snack packs, I guess. But I don’t give up so easily. There’s no way those gelatinous, tasteless pudding packs can beat homemade chocolate pudding. Armed with my best chocolate (callebaut 70%), organic whole milk, and a little bit of love, I set out to make chocolate pudding that D might like.

“It’s too dark and rich,” she said. Really, I can’t win around here.

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Polenta with Tomatoes, Shallots, and Goat Cheese

rivka — Mon, 22 Dec 2008 03:48:39 +0000

Forget Rachael Ray, with her hoarse voice and her annoying little mannerisms. I’ll show you a 30 minute meal — better yet, a 15-minute meal — that’ll have you at the table before you can say “EVOO“. It’s called polenta, and it’s really flippin’ easy. You can actually make it more quickly than I can write this post. And while I’ve included the recipe for polenta with tomatoes, shallots, and goat cheese, you can easily make it with something else. As always, I’ve listed several variations.

Polenta is basically poor man’s food: it’s simple, it’s cheap, it’s sustaining, and it’s dead-easy to make. All you need is cornmeal, salt, and water — ohh, and a fair amount of muscle for all the stirring you’ll be doing.
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Winter Salad with Pears and Manchego, My Catering Debut

rivka — Mon, 08 Dec 2008 02:56:59 +0000

Catering? Moi? Uh, NO. Not exactly. I’m flighty, forgetful, and a host of other wonderful things that don’t mix with catering. And yet, today, my mom and I cooked and served brunch to a party of 8 at their home. The brunch was an item that my mom had offered in a silent auction at work; I’m a sucker for all things food-related, so when mom enlisted my help, I happily agreed.

Can I tell you how utterly shocked I am that brunch today went PERFECTLY? I mean, without a hitch. Not a single issue. Nothing forgotten, undercooked, overcooked, gross-tasting; everything plated on time, ready to go, delicious. I’m in awe of my beginner’s luck. In awe, I tell you.

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What I did with my very last tomato

rivka — Sat, 22 Nov 2008 05:07:27 +0000

Yes, folks, it’s true: tomato season has come to a close. Back when I made this, in October, I wasn’t walking, it seemed pretty unlikely that I’d make it back to the farmers market to catch one last round of tomato madness, so I figured it was safe to assume that the tomato I ate that night was my last for the season. I’m a card-carrying member of the tomato lovers’ cult, so that’s not an easy thing to admit — but, like an old fling whose time has come to an end, I think I can walk away from this one with no regrets.

Running with that analogy for a minute: you’d like to think your last time with the fling would be the best there was to have, the best there ever would have been. But that’s never the case, is it? Usually the last time is just….fine. Such was the case with my last tomato. It wasn’t one of those specimens that could have been framed. No shiny, taut, glossy skin and jewel-like innards. Had it been perfect, I’d have eaten it raw, simply sliced with olive oil and fleur de sel. But I was already smack-dab in the middle of fall, and my tomato wasn’t so perfect. However, it was jam-packed with flavor, that I can assure you. So I prepared that last tomato in a dish that quickly became a standby this summer — a dish that’s perfect for celebrating tomatoes’ flavor even when their texture is somewhat imperfect. What’s that, you ask?

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Braised Sweet and Sour Red Cabbage

rivka — Fri, 14 Nov 2008 16:22:02 +0000

Not too long ago, I walked into my parents’ house and immediately caught wafts of the most fantastic aroma coming from (as always) the kitchen. I started sticking my fingers into each of the dishes sitting on the dining room table, eager to find the source. After trying most everything else on the table, I nonchalantly scooped up a pinch of cooked red cabbage, thinking not even a little that it might actually be the culprit. Boy, was I surprised. Divine, I tell you! And I don’t use that word all too often…but this truly is a recipe for the ages.

Turns out, it’s also dead simple; go figure. At my persistent begging, my mom passed along the recipe she’d used to make it. I tweaked it, as I am often wont to do, because when I see an ingredient in the fridge and think it might add something, I’ve no self control, not even an ounce. And while sometimes that habit ruins otherwise tasty cooking (insert gross story here), other times, I’m rewarded for my impulses. This cabbage most definitely benefited from my hyperactive ingredient-adding tendency.

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Steelcut Oatmeal with Peach Compote

rivka — Sat, 25 Oct 2008 20:30:29 +0000

Is it obvious I love breakfast? Between french toast casserole, cinnamon buns, vintage breakfast biscuits, shakshuka, and even simple bites like this one, I seem to have found my obsession. In keeping with my breakfast trend, here’s another maddeningly simple morning meal option: steelcut oats.

What are steelcut oats? They’re oats, really — but unlike quick oats, which are essentially slices of oats, steelcut oats are like large crumbs. They look more like Grape Nuts than Quaker. They’re also quite firm; they don’t crumble in your hand the way quick oats can. They take about 25 minutes to cook fully, which means you need to have a bit of time to cook’em up. But if you’ve got the time, you’ll be handsomely rewarded: cooked steelcut oats are like a thicker, homier version of grits or polenta, with a distinctly nutty flavor and lovely pot liquor. I also add a pinch of salt to the water for contrast, and a daub of butter at the end, a la Mandy, because it makes breakfast more luxurious. In my humble opinion, oatmeal is best topped with a splash of milk or half and half, and either a dollop of jam or a spoonful of fresh fruit compote. In this case, I used my very last summer peach to make a lovely quick compote that went perfectly with the oatmeal.
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lazy boozy french toast casserole

rivka — Sun, 12 Oct 2008 18:36:21 +0000

Since having surgery on my foot, my time in the kitchen has been severely limited. It pretty much hurts to stand still for more than a few minutes, and I can’t put much pressure on the foot yet. My left foot is taking a serious hit, what with all the hopping and limping, so standing on one foot to cook complex, multi-step dishes is also not an option. With this in mind, I’ve had to curtail my everyday zeal about being in the kitchen, and limit my cooking to practical dishes requiring little to no prep.

When at last Saturday’s lunch we found ourselves with a whole extra challah, I somehow got tapped to take it home. And people, I think we all know that there are few things better than day-old challah french toast on a lazy Sunday. With that said, soon as I woke up on Sunday morning, I realized that the absolute last thing I wanted to do was hover at the stove, waiting for all those slices to soak and fry up. It just wasn’t going to happen.

Enter awesome Deb of Smitten Kitchen, and her recipe for Boozy Baked French Toast. The perfect antidote to both hunger and laziness, baked french toast allows you to enjoy this fantastic weekend breakfast without all the prep work. The result? A cross between french toast and bread pudding; not your usual crunchy-all-around slices of fried french toast, but a lovely casserole with soft, custardy innards and a crisp crust, thanks to cinnamon sugar topping.

Of course, some of us procrastinate more than others; Deb had the foresight to make her casserole overnight, giving the bread time to soak up the milk-egg mixture. I’m simply not that awesome. I woke up Sunday morning wanting French toast casserole, having done absolutely nothing the night before. But hey — I made it work. I cut the milk by a third, so there would be less liquid floating around. I also dotted the top layer with butter, to ensure that the cinnamon sugar would get crispity-crisp. My last-minute game plan totally payed off. About 40 minutes after french toast casserole entered my head, it entered my mouth. Oh-so-tasty. Maybe I’m awesome after all.

Lazy Boozy French Toast Casserole
adapted from Smitten Kitchen

1 loaf Challah bread in 1-inch slices, any kind will do
2 cups whole milk (3 if letting sit overnight)
3 eggs
3 tablespoons sugar
1/2 teaspoon salt

Your choice of flavorings: I used Deb’s recommendation of 3 tablespoons Bailey’s and 3 tablespoons Cointreau, but she also suggests Frangelico (hazelnut), Chambord (raspberry), Creme de Cassis (black currant) Grand Marnier or just a teaspoon or two of vanilla or almond extract. You can add a teaspoon of zest for a citrusy kick, add a half-cup of chopped nuts such as almond slivers or pecans between layers or on top or a similar amount of raisins or other dried fruits. And of course, let’s not forget chocolate chips for over-the-top indulgence.

1. Generously grease a 9×13-inch baking dish with salted (Deb’s fave) or unsalted butter.
2. Arrange bread in two tightly-packed layers in the pan. Cut one slice into smaller pieces to fill in gaps, especially when using braided Challah. If using a thinner-sliced bread, you might wish for more layers, though Deb finds that over three, baking can be uneven. If you are using any fillings of fruit or nuts, this is the time to get them between the layers or sprinkled atop.
3. Whisk milk, eggs, sugar, salt and booze or flavorings of your choice and pour over the bread. Sprinkle with cinnamon and sugar and dot with butter.
4. If making at night, wrap tightly with plastic wrap and refrigerate. The bread will absorb all of the milk custard while you sleep.
5. Bake at 425 for 30 minutes, or until puffed and golden. This will take longer if you have additional layers.
6. Cut into generous squares and serve with maple syrup, fresh fruit, powdered sugar or all of the above.

Serves 6 as main course.

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The Simplest Breakfast

rivka — Sun, 21 Sep 2008 18:12:51 +0000

Lazy Sunday morning here in localsville. Since localseasonal September started, a Sunday morning routine has developed. I wake up, make myself a cup of coffee, drink the littlest bit of it and make D mad by letting it cool to room temp, assure her that I meant to let it sit as I stick it in the fridge for ice coffee later, and then trot over to the farmers market, lots-o-canvas-bags in tow. By the time I’m back from the market, I’m warm (it’s a bit of a hike from Dupont with all those groceries in hand) and I’m hungry. So I take out those beautiful yellow cherry tomatoes, that Keswick creamery spreadable herb cheese, those farm-fresh eggs, and that lovely, tart cows milk yogurt, and I whip us up a little breakfast. Nothing fancy — wonderful, in fact, in its sheer simplicity. These pics are from our breakfast 2 weeks ago.

Happy lazy local Sunday, everyone!

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Plum Ice Cream

rivka — Wed, 17 Sep 2008 00:38:04 +0000

This past December, D got me an ice cream maker for Hanukkah. “So that you’ll have a way to make us ice cream when summer rolls around.” That D’s pretty smart: ice cream makers are much cheaper in the dead of winter, but summer inevitably returned, and now tubs of ice cream line our freezer. What flavors, you ask? Well, currently we have wild honey, raspberry sorbet, apricot sorbet, and this here plum that I’m getting ready to tell you about. I’ve had some lovely organic plums in my fridge for a couple weeks. Most of them I took for lunch, but something had to be done with the rest. I’d gone back and forth between stone fruit crisp and plum tart tatin, until I remembered that The Perfect Scoop was sitting on my bookshelf, gathering dust. Sure enough, David Lebovitz had included in it a recipe for plum ice cream; the fate of my plumlings was decided.

Here’s the thing about fruit ice creams: they’re not chocolate. Now don’t you vanilla fans jump on me all at once — I appreciate a good bowl of white. (Scratch that: off-white. If it’s vanilla, it has to be custard-based, in my humble-o.) But people, chocolate and I are exclusive. We’re in love. And that’s just how it is. So you can understand why fruit ice cream has always seemed a little, well, not-quite-right to me — that is, until I made some myself. Plum ice cream is stupendous! Wonderfully creamy, sweet and tart, with all the assets of stone fruit and of ice cream in one. I’m a little obsessed.

With plums at every farmers’ market in town, now’s the time to try this one out.
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Portobello Burgers

rivka — Fri, 05 Sep 2008 22:09:59 +0000

Until two nights ago, I’d never made a portobello burger. Hard to believe, I know. It’s, like, the simplest thing to make. Like, ever. And yet I somehow managed to make chocolate pretzels, potato foccacia, even Buche De Noel before getting around to this dead-simple dinner. Well, we’ve remedied that, folks, yes we have — and it certainly won’t be the last time I do it. Some facts about portobello burgers: they’re freakin’ easy. And tasty. Did I mention easy? Oh, and they’re uber-versatile. Like last night, for example, D ate hers as she would a normal burger: pickles, honey mustard, tomato, bbq sauce. I had mine like a true snob: taleggio cheese, avocado, heirloom tomato, pesto, on ciabatta bread. Delicious either way, we’ll both assure you. And really, took approximately 8 minutes to cook. I don’t have a grill or grill pan, but I used a very hot castiron pan and it did the trick.

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Easiest Broccoli Slaw (ever!)

rivka — Sat, 09 Aug 2008 03:26:51 +0000

Yes, yes, summer’s almost over (eek! I won’t say it again, I promise) — but there’s still plenty of time for you country folk to fire up your grill while we city folk peer jealously out our windows and inhale the aromas. Meanwhile, if you’re an urbanite lucky enough to get invited over to said grill-equipped home, here’s a great slaw to bring along with. I guarantee it’ll win you some fans — maybe even get you invited back. (You’ll notice that I actually just brought it for lunch one day. I promise it tastes good both outdoors and in A/C.)

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Onion Tart

rivka — Tue, 29 Jul 2008 23:42:07 +0000

I have less than no time to write this post: work is suuuper crazy right now and I’ve hardly had time to cook, let alone write. But how’s this for a teaser: it’s taking me longer to write this post than it did to make the onion tart I’m sharing with you. Really.

As long as you don’t make your own puff pastry, this tart can be put together in no time with just a bit of advance prep work (read: caramelize onions). I had a bit of time one night last week so I caramelized down two whole white onions into a big sweet mush. They served as the main ingredient of this here tart, topped off with some goat cheese, quick-sauteed mushrooms, and a few snippings of chives. That’s it. And with such little effort, the whole thing still got polished off at Friday night dinner.
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Mediterranean Orzo Salad

rivka — Sun, 13 Jul 2008 00:17:52 +0000

Well hello dear readers! Nice of you to join me here, at this oft-neglected blog of mine. Work has taken a turn for the busier, and I’ve not been posting as much as I’d like. The craziness will likely continue through the end of the month, but then I’m home free and will post much more! Meanwhile, thanks for hangin’ in there. And you’ll be handsomely rewarded for your patience — I have a couple of smashingly delicious recipes in the queue.

As you may have noticed, it’s pretty smokin’ hot these days. For those of us city folks without a porch, grilling isn’t much of an option, but nonetheless, I try to minimize indoor cooking as much as possible during summer months. This orzo salad requires no oven time, and just around 20 minutes of stovetop cooking. It can also be tweaked in any number of ways; as usual, the recipe I provide here is entirely a function of what was in my fridge when I made it, and you should listen to your fridge’s innards just as carefully.
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Tzatziki

rivka — Sat, 28 Jun 2008 21:08:46 +0000

My wonderful mom reminded me that when we first made this, we also grated in 2 pickling cucumbers. I completely forgot to put them in the recipe here! Correction appended.
Have you ever seen a recipe here at NDP that called for mayonnaise? No, I don’t think so. Definitely not. That’s because I hate hate hate mayo with, well, a passion. It makes my stomach turn just to think about it! Yuck. The grossness of mayo notwithstanding, at least 95.5% of all dip recipes list mayo as an ingredient — incomprehensible, if you ask me. Why not pass up the mayo for some yogurt? Or sour cream, if that’s your thing? Why ruin a perfectly good dip with mayo? Disagree if you must — I get that mayonnaise is one of America’s favorite condiments. Just not one of mine.

(end rant.)
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Chilled Leek and Pea Soup with Mint

rivka — Sat, 07 Jun 2008 02:01:02 +0000

Summer doesn’t take its time in DC. Blink, and before you know it, it’s dripping down your back, glowing on your face, sticking the jeans you shouldn’t have worn today to the back of your legs. Yep, awesome. In prepping for Washington’s summer-o-sweat, I’ve been reminding myself to breathe deeply and contemplating ways to limit stove and oven use. But you can only eat so many salads before the sheer sight of baby greens makes you scream. The solution? Make now, eat later, chill in-between.

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Greens? mouthwatering. Pictures? Not so much.

rivka — Sat, 24 May 2008 14:16:26 +0000

(After a long, long hiatus — nearly 2 weeks! — I’ve finally got a recipe for you. I recently started a new job, which, in contrast to the old one, actually necessitates my doing work. It’s been tough to adjust to a full — often overflowing — workday and still make time to blog, but I’m coming around. Thanks for continuing to read, and I promise, more great recipes are in the wings!)

Honestly, I don’t think I’ve ever posted such ugly pictures (save some of my early shots, which are pretty embarrassing). My apologies if looking at them makes you lose your appetite. I didn’t even bother to put the watermark on that second one — let’s face it; no one’s going to claim to have taken that ugly pic.

But the spinach, people, the spinach. It’s absolutely delicious, and I insist that after staring for way too long at these ugly pictures, you go bother to make the spinach that’s in them. I happened to have spinach in the fridge, and stumbled upon this recipe in The New Best Recipe (aka my New Best Cookbook). It’s not my usual tune to make creamed spinach. I’m more drawn to raw salads and quick-sautees with Asian flavors than I am to heavy, Southern-style greens. However, I will certainly be making frequent exception to that rule from now on. TNBR’s creamed spinach recipe yielded a perfectly delicate green, sweet from the cream and a pinch of sugar, slightly salty, a bit spicy from the freshly-grated nutmeg, and buttery from a sauteed shallot and, well, butter. I guess it’s not hard to see how anything can be made tasty if you add sugar, salt, cream, butter, and shallots. But anyway, this spinach was pretty much a home run. I actually cut the cream in half, and it was still delicious, so if you’d be inclined, do the same.

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Ramps in shallot butter

rivka — Sun, 11 May 2008 21:55:04 +0000

Nothing announces the end of gloomy winter and the coming of bright, bloomy Spring like ramps. Ramps resemble baby leeks, and taste like a cross between garlic and onion, only less pungent, more delicate green. Unlike leeks, ramps’ green stalks are soft and ~~can~~ should be eaten. They’re certainly Spring’s hot item among chefs and gourmandes, and the most ramp-obsessed folks have been known to shell out as much as 20 bucks a pound for ‘em. Now, you won’t find me telling you they’re worth that much — after all, they were once mistaken as weeds and people spent time trying to rid their gardens of them — but they are mighty tasty, and quite versatile. However, as they’re expensive, I’d use them wisely.

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Endive, Orange, and Avocado Salad

rivka — Sat, 03 May 2008 22:47:56 +0000

Now that farmers’ markets are fully stocked and hot weather is creeping up on us, I’ll be kissing my oven goodbye and putting it to sleep for a few months. I don’t know about you, but it costs us an arm and a leg to pump the A/C into our apartment enough that I don’t faint from oversweating; the last thing I want to do is make it harder for our little cooling engine that couldn’t. So long as I can hack it, I’ll be making salads regularly. Summer’s produce is fresh, juicy, flavorful, and tasty without any heat applied. Why make stew when tomatoes are perfect, yes perfect, with just some olive oil and salt? And when I’m making salads, I’m using avocados in almost every one of them.

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Broccoli with Pine Nuts and Raisins

rivka — Sun, 06 Apr 2008 20:44:06 +0000

Ever have a total jonesin’ to make something that you had not intention of eating for a couple days? No, of course not. You’re not crazy. Maybe it was the urge to blog that got me cooking this weekend, backwards as that sounds…but for whatever reason, I found myself chopping garlic, toasting pine nuts, and steaming broccoli and raisins, knowing full well that I was going out to dinner last night, out to a brunch baby-naming this morning, and … well, out to dinner again tonight. The broccoli is still sitting in my fridge, save for the little bits I’ve been sneaking here and there. And now you all know what I’ll be taking for lunch tomorrow.
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No-knead Raisin Pecan Bread

rivka — Thu, 27 Mar 2008 02:00:32 +0000

*correction appended

When it comes to bread, I’m a firm believer in the homemade variety. There’s something so therapeutic about the process: in making bread, you create a dough from the humblest of ingredients. Using nothing more than your hands, you establish a complex web of gluten that gives the dough structure and texture; and with some patience, perhaps also a book to pass the hours, you give that dough the time it needs to grow in size and flavor. I’m no stranger to intense kneading and endless rises — I think I’ve proven my willingness to hold out for a good loaf.

Good bread has always required a good knead and a good rise; not anymore. Jim Lahey, the genius baker behind Sullivan Street Bakery, developed a recipe for a crusty, flavorful loaf that requires no kneading whatsoever. The secret? Time, and lots of it. Oh yea, and almost no yeast.
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Edamame with some Latin flair

rivka — Thu, 06 Mar 2008 17:55:17 +0000

Edamame rarely find their way into my kitchen, and I really don’t know why. They’re a perfect addition to salads, an easy and elegant appetizer, and a perfect snack, but I can’t think of the last time I bought them. No, really, I don’t think I’ve every bought them. The ones in these pictures were leftover from my birthday party. Dina, another one of the birthday girls, made this easy recipe and I’ve been trying to figure out how to recreate it ever since.
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Shakshuka

rivka — Wed, 05 Mar 2008 01:50:35 +0000

To say I love shakshuka is both a huge understatement and slightly misleading. How’s that? Well, I more than love shakshuka; it’s one of my absolute favorite breakfasts, lunches, and dinners, and hell, snacks. When D and I can’t agree on what to put in the omelet or pancakes, I just say “shakshuka?” and everyone shuts up. (Usually.)

However, I like shakshuka my way. And my way is… well, my way is delicious, but it’s not really shakshuka. Traditional shakshuka is an Israeli dish comprising sunny-side-up eggs in a spicy, onion-y tomato sauce. That’s how I make it for D, but not for me. Please don’t yell or scream or call me a fake foodie, but I don’t like runny eggs. I know they’re delicious and wonderful and life-changing for many-a-gourmet, but I’ll have my eggs rubbery as leather and burnt on the outside, thank you very much. Scoff if you must.

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Dulce de Leche

rivka — Mon, 25 Feb 2008 19:31:39 +0000

Imagine a creamy, rich, brown caramel made from the simplest of ingredients — milk and sugar — and involving little more than a pot of boiling water and a couple hours. Hard to believe, but the best way to make dulce de leche is also the easiest way. And tell me you’re not salivating as you eye the caramel I’ve got sitting in a jar in my fridge. This stuff is to die for, people.
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Teriyaki Tofu with Brussels Sprouts and Soba

rivka — Wed, 20 Feb 2008 16:43:34 +0000

I’ve been on a tofu hiatus lately. Its estrogen-mimicking qualities had me a little nervous, and I hadn’t been craving it much anyway, so I took a tofu timeout. Then I was at the whole foods near work and some baked pressed tofu caught my eye. I can’t remember the brand, but it’s the kind that comes in thai, teriyaki, and lemon-pepper flavors. I usually buy regular organic extra firm tofu, and do the pressing and marinating myself. But don’t kid yourself — that process takes time. Ideally, you’d put the tofu in a bowl, cover it with a paper towel, rest a heavy can on top, and let the liquid drain out over at least half an hour. Then you’d marinate the tofu for half an hour more, replacing the plain liquid with flavor. But whole foods, the blessing that it is, carries ready-made-and-marinated tofu for only eighty times the price! Actually, this stuff was under 2 bucks — not bad at all.

With the tofu flavored and ready to go, I was able to make this entire meal, start to finish, in 23 minutes. People, that’s faster than our not-so-favorite thirty-minute-meal star. And it was delicious to boot! Even D thought so.
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It’s Frittata Time

rivka — Thu, 14 Feb 2008 15:57:48 +0000

D and I were in New York over New Years, and our hostess, Meryl, made a lovely pajama brunch. (Let’s face it; what else do you really want to do on New Years day besides lounge around in your pjs eating great food with friends? Yea — it was pretty fabulous.) Meryl picked out the recipes in advance, and she and I did most of the cooking that morning. Now, if it’s not clear from reading this blog, I’m a darn lazy cook. I mess up recipes all the time, burn things almost chronically, and rarely even read through a recipe before reaching into the flour jar. Meryl=exactly the opposite; she couldn’t have read through the recipe more, or have been more exacting in her measurements. It was slightly hysterical. But dare I say our different approaches yielded some pretty excellent food? All morning long, people swooned over the frittata, which really couldn’t have been easier to make. The recipe originally came from Real Simple magazine, and basically had you mix a whole boatload of eggs with spinach, tomatoes, onions and feta cheese, pour it into an oiled pyrex pan, and bake for 40 minutes until firm. Real simple, indeed — and real delicious.
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Baked Stuffed Eggplant

rivka — Fri, 08 Feb 2008 03:45:21 +0000

This week, I was in North Carolina for work. I stayed in the coastal plains of NC, in an all-American town. By all-American, I mean the only things to eat were carbs and packaged food, and the most popular restaurants were Wendy’s, Popeye’s, Arby’s, and other restaurants whose names are people. Get the drift? Needless to say, I was thrilled to touch down on the runway in the nation’s capital, my mouth watering at the thought of cooking up some freakin’ vegetables for dinner.

I was going to blog about cookies tonight, but the sheer thought of butter and sugar makes me shudder with memories of my daily intake earlier this week. (Though, to NC’s credit, it’s not every day that a waffle costs $2.65, a side of grits sets you back 35 cents (!), and breakfast for two with tip comes to 8 bucks.) In short, I can’t think about sweet stuff right now, so I’ll tell you instead about the stuffed eggplants I made this past Sunday.
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Brussels Sprouts (Yes, Brussels Sprouts!)

rivka — Wed, 30 Jan 2008 19:33:27 +0000

Here’s a lesson in spousal communication. If you suspect that your significant other doesn’t like a particular food, do yourself a huge favor: just ask. If you don’t, you mind wind up like me. In the almost three years that D and I have been together, I never once have made brussels sprouts. I just assumed that D would hate those mini green balls of healthful deliciousness. People, how wrong I was.

A couple weeks back, D and I went to an absolutely fantastic dinner at Bryce and Matt’s. Bryce is a vegetarian, and a great cook, so dinner was an all-out vegetable and fake meat fest. Having grown up in a vegetarian house, I was in a form of heaven much reminiscent of my childhood. I was, however, slightly concerned about D, who favors meat. But to my surprise, D asked me to get Bryce’s fake meat pie recipe. I asked if I should make it with real meat, and D said, “Just make it exactly the way Bryce makes it. Don’t do any of your little alterations or substitutions or anything.” Ok then.

But that’s neither here nor there…the point is, after that dinner, D asked for brussels sprouts. Yep! That’s right. I mean, twist my arm why don’t you. I guess I’ll make ‘em.
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Make-your-own Mexican Dinner

rivka — Mon, 21 Jan 2008 01:49:56 +0000

D and I were both very excited at the thought of turkey burgers, but you can’t make turkey burgers when the grocery store is out of turkey. hmm.

After a few moments’ hesitation about what to make my very hungry and over-studied cohabiter, I settled on mexican. Now, before you get too excited, this isn’t Diana Kennedy, from-under-the-adobe-flap Mexican (though I love Kennedy’s cookbooks, especially this one, and need to make some of her recipes soon!). This is Americanized Mexican food with just a few twists to make it more authentic. And you know what? It’s pretty damn good. Because we’re kosher, we do either the meat inside or the cheese on top. But please, don’t hold back. A little cotija cheese and sour cream never hurt anyone.

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Baked Oatmeal

rivka — Sun, 20 Jan 2008 16:58:27 +0000

By now you all know that Sunday morning breakfast is practically an institution in this house of mine. Usually, it involves some form of yeasty, delicious bread, from apricot couronne to challah french toast to the fall-favorite, spiced pumpkin bread. This morning, D and I and our house guest Eric somehow managed to sleep past the crack of dawn, and when we rolled out of bed at 10, making bread for breakfast was totally, like totally, out of the question.

Sprawled horizontally on the couch, I started thinking about recipes that take little-to-no effort. Baked rice pudding instantly came to mind: I remember marvelling at how fantastically easy it was to make such a flavorful and luscious (and not all too unhealthy!) dessert. Inspired by the laziness of my rice pudding adventure, I decided to try the same technique with oatmeal. Granted, oatmeal doesn’t require the stirring and monitoring that rice pudding does — just zap it in the microwave and voila! you’re good to go. But nuked oatmeal lacks the crust that I was so craving this morning (being without my bread and all.) Baking oatmeal would likely create a crisp exterior, which, when cracked, would yield soft, plump oats. And all it would involve was mixing everything together, transfering to a pan, and tossing in the oven. The whole thing sounded really promising.
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Easy, Healthy Butter Bean Stew

rivka — Tue, 08 Jan 2008 21:47:35 +0000

Bet you never thought you’d see “healthy” and “butter” next to each other in the same sentence!

Last night, after heating up some broth for a very sick D., I moseyed back to the kitchen to figure out dinner for myself. The fridge was pretty cleaned out, save some pretty blood oranges, 6 grape tomatoes, and a bit of leftover fennel. But fear not, dear readers! A few ingredients really do go a long way. I feel a little bit like Rachael Ray when I say this, but a delicious and healthy meal really is only 30 minutes away.(...)
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Simple antipasti

rivka — Thu, 27 Dec 2007 03:36:00 +0000

In Italy, antipasti are meant to whet your appetite. (Granted, when I ate out in Italy, my appetite needs little whetting — what with all the whiffs of freshly-made pasta and roasted tomato sauce drifting from the kitchen to my table.) Nonetheless, in Italy, antipasti are simply appetizers, mere preludes to the main dish. In my house, they’re just part of the meal. After all, roasted vegetables with a splash of quality balsamic vinegar and just the right amount of good olive oil make a perfect accompaniment to whatever’s being served. In my humble opinion, they need not precede the main course — in fact, they do just fine right alongside it.(...)
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Carrot Soup

rivka — Wed, 19 Dec 2007 16:13:00 +0000

It’s already December and I still haven’t posted a freezable soup recipe? Can’t be.

My nose is red and my paws are frosty these days. If only it were possible to have the kettle whistling by the time I walked in the door, so that I could instantly hold a piping hot mug of chai after weathering the cold. Until someone invents that kettle, there’s frozen soup. There’re few things easier than popping a soup-filled ziploc out of the freezer and nuking your dinner on a cold winter night. Start to finish, it only takes 4 minutes, and the results are just as good, if not better, than freshly made soup. The ingredients have had time to mingle with each other a bit more, so frozen soups often taste flavor-saturated than their fresh siblings. Top the soup with some homemade croutons and you’re good to go!(...)
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Saffron-Nutmeg Rice Pudding: Sugar High Friday!

rivka — Sun, 09 Dec 2007 01:24:00 +0000

Something has happened. There used to be no stopping me from gravitating straight toward the chocolate. In Baskin Robbins, I had no control over my constant need for chocolate raspberry truffle, and therefore tasted almost no other flavors for about six years. My mom could hide all the candy in the house and I wouldn’t notice, but if chocolate had a hiding place, I could find it in a flash. Lately, my long-standing chocolate obsession has taken a backseat to simpler things. Exhibit A: this little rice pudding number, featured in the latest issue of gourmet. I turned the page to the letters section, noticed the recipe for rice pudding with (gulp) nutmeg as the only flavoring (not even vanilla!) and thought, I. must. make. this. now.

So I did.

Where has all the chocolate gone? No matter. If you make this rice pudding, I guarantee you won’t miss chocolate, no, not one little bit. Nutmeg may sound “simple” when you shake it from the jar into your carrot soup (the subject of a later post…stay tuned!) But when it’s freshly grated, when it stands alone on arborio rice — with just some milk, cream and sugar to pull the pudding together — why, nothing could be more complex.

Nutmeg is a “warm” spice, at once spicy and sweet, with a real bite and a pleasant bitterness that make it irresistible. In the jar, its flavor gets somewhat muted, so grate some from a whole nutmeg whenever possible. I bought 20 whole nutmeg pieces for a buck fifty, so it shouldn’t set you back much, and it’s truly worth it.

Now, I’ll be honest: I didn’t stop at the nutmeg. After all, something as simple as rice pudding provides a golden opportunity to play around. I happened to buy a (relatively) big box of saffron a couple weeks ago, and I’ve been waiting for a chance to use it. What better than a bright yellow, saffron-nutmeg flavored rice pudding? So it was settled.

Aside from the nutmeg, what drew me to this recipe was the stirring — or lack thereof. Typically, rice pudding means hovering over the stove until your back aches, stirring the thing around and around so it doesn’t clump or stick or overcook. Needless to say, it’s a pain. But this recipe was for baked pudding: simply mix the ingredients in the ramekins themselves, stick’em on a baking sheet, and bake’em in the oven for an hour. Let’s face it — not much could be easier. And I’d be surprised if you don’t scrape your bowl clean, as I did. Saffron-Nutmeg Rice Pudding: my entry for this month’s Sugar High Friday.

Saffron-Nutmeg Rice Pudding adapted from this month’s Gourmet
serves 4.

2 cups whole milk
1/3 cup Arborio rice
8 tsp. sugar
salt
whole nutmeg
12 threads saffron
4 Tbsp. heavy cream

Preheat oven to 325 degrees, and put rack in the middle. Butter the ramekins.
Add 1/2 cup milk, 4 tsp. rice, 2 tsp. sugar, and a pinch of salt to each ramekin. Grate a bit of nutmeg over each, and put 3 threads of saffron in each. Stir well to combine, and ensure that the spices don’t float, if possible.
Put ramekins in a shallow baking pan and bake until most of the milk is absorbed and the tops are golden-brown, about 1 hour.
A skin will form on each ramekin; remove the skin.
Stir 1 Tbsp. cream into each pudding until creamy. Allow to cool, and if desired, refrigerate 30 minutes until chilled.
Enjoy — don’t forget to scrape your ramekin to the last drop.

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