COMFORT FOOD

Arroz aguado (watery or soft rice) is a dish I was none too happy to eat when I was little. Its mushy texture and bland flavors were well suited to the flu-ish and hungover, but not to people whose tastebuds were unimpaired and stomachs weren’t queasy. Arroz aguado is basically chicken soup to which rice has been added and cooked until its blown out and soft. The harsh winds and chilly temperatures of early spring have made me reconsider this recipe, however, and it is now a very welcome addition to the table.


ARROZ AGUADO

1 tablespoon vegetable oil
1 onion, chopped
3 celery stalks, thinly sliced
3 carrots, cut into ½”-thick slices
2 whole canned plum tomatoes, sliced into ½”-thick slices, plus 2 tablespoons juice
4 cloves garlic, smashed
Salt and pepper
2 bone-in, skin-on split chicken breasts, cut in half crosswise
4 bone-in, skin-on chicken thighs (or 4 drumsticks)
4 cups chicken broth
3 cups water
1 cup long-grain white rice
2 sprigs fresh mint
3 medium red potatoes, scrubbed and cut into 1” cubes
1 medium zucchini, quartered lengthwise and cut into ½”-thick slices

Bright garnishes like mint, cilantro, and lime juice will brighten the arroz aguado -- top each bowl or pass at the table.

¼ cup fresh mint, chopped
¼ cup fresh cilantro, chopped
2 limes, cut into wedges
1 ripe avocado, cut into ¼” cubes
Pickled jalapeño chiles


-Heat oil in large Dutch oven or soup pot over medium-high heat until shimmering. Add onion, celery, carrots, tomatoes and juice, garlic, and 1 teaspoon salt and cook, stirring, until onion is softened, 5 to 7 minutes.

-Season chicken with salt and pepper and add to pot. Add broth, water, rice, and sprigs of fresh mint; stir and bring to a boil. Reduce heat to medium-low and maintain a low simmer, skimming surface from time to time, and cook until chicken is cooked through, about 45 minutes.With tongs, remove chicken and place in bowl. Remove and discard mint sprigs.

-Stir potatoes and zucchini into soup and cook until tender, about 15 minutes.

-Meanwhile, using 2 forks, carefully remove and discard skin and bones. Shred chicken and return to pot. Adjust seasonings with salt and pepper.

-Serve in bowls and garnish with mint and cilantro. Serve with limes, avocado, and jalapeños.

Note: When reheating leftovers, add a bit more broth to the stew as the rice may become blown out as it rests.

SHOUT OUT!

This is s shout out to Lady L who made one of my recipes recently. Thanks for sending a picture!
xoxo HH&F

EGGCELLENT

I love eggs. To quote Dr. Seuss, “So I will eat them in a box. And I will eat them with a fox. And I will eat them in a house. And I will them with a mouse. And I will them here and there. Say! I will eat them ANYWHERE!” Scrambled, poached, fried, hard boiled…I will eat them – just not spoiled.

Many of my favorite meals (especially those I fashion from leftovers) are topped with an egg. Steak. Black bean soup. Grilled ham and cheese sandwich. Hamburger. Quesadilla. Breakfast, brunch, lunch, or dinner, eggs are incredibly versatile. It should come as no surprise then that pasta alla carbonara is one of my favorite dishes. It’s rich, creamy, and incorporates eggs very delicately and deliciously. Plus, it’s quick to make and can easily be pulled together with ingredients you (should) have on hand.

The following is my version of carbonara. I use cappellini instead of the usual spaghetti to cut down on cooking time and use bacon and pancetta interchangeably. Also, if you don’t have white wine on hand, I’ve found a nice lager or ale acceptable substitutions.
For vegetarians: in place of pancetta, sauté 8 ounces chopped mushrooms of your choice in 2 tablespoons olive oil until browned.

3 large eggs
1/3 cup grated Parmesan cheese
Salt and pepper
4 ounces pancetta, cut into ¼” cubes (or 6 slices bacon, chopped)
8 ounces cappellini pasta
3 garlic cloves, minced
¼ cup white wine

- Set 4 quarts water to boil in medium pot.

- Whisk eggs in large bowl. Whisk in ¼ teaspoon salt, ½ teaspoon pepper, and parmesan.

- Cook pancetta (or bacon) in a large skillet over medium heat until golden and some of the fat has rendered (if using bacon, transfer it to a paper towel-lined plate and reserve), 4 to 5 minutes.

-Meanwhile, add 1 tablespoon salt and cappellini to water and cook until al dente, about 3 minutes. Reserve ¼ cup pasta water and drain. Return to pot.

- Add garlic to skillet and cook, stirring, until lightly golden and fragrant, about 30 seconds. Stir in wine and remove from heat.

- Add cappellini to bowl with eggs and very quickly, using tongs or two large forks, toss to coat evenly. Stir in pancetta-wine mix (if using, stir in reserved bacon bits). If pasta looks a bit dry, add some of the reserved pasta water. Serve immediately.

FEED ME

There are days when, despite my best efforts, I eat like a voracious billy goat. I didn’t wake up this morning planning to eat complex carbs only, but that’s what I did. I gulped down an espresso for breakfast, got super busy, and all of a sudden I looked up at the clock and it was noon. I was ravenous.

I had a grilled cheese sandwich. And some manicotti. Then a Diet Coke (I suppose that doesn’t really count?). A while later I ate (ok, more like inhaled) an olive roll. And a few minutes after that I had a bit of pastry and three French fries. And one more olive roll. By 5:00pm I was bloated and full but unsatisfied. The poor nutritional choices I made left me feeling wobbly and tired so I skipped yoga (did I tell you I’ve been doing crazy Bikram yoga about 4 times a week since January?!). That means that instead of burning 800 calories this evening, I stayed home and carb loaded some more (beer, Triscuit, pastry).

At 8:00pm I decided I still wanted more to eat and finally decided to cook some real food. It was the one nice thing I did for myself today. Did you do anything nice for yourself today?

PORK TENDERLOIN with APPLES & ONIONS

2 ounces pancetta, cut into ¼” cubes (or 3 slices bacon, chopped)
1 medium yellow onion, peeled and cut lengthwise into 6 wedges
1 teaspoon sugar
Salt and pepper
2 red apples (such as Gala or Fuji), peeled, cored, and cut into 6 wedges
1 tablespoon vegetable or olive oil
2 tablespoons butter
1 (1-lb.) pork tenderloin, cut in half crosswise
2 tablespoons orange marmalade (apricot jam, apple jelly, or maple syrup may act as substitutes)
1 tablespoon sherry vinegar

- Preheat oven to 450˚F.

- Cook pancetta (or bacon) in a large oven-safe skillet (a cast iron skillet is great for this recipe) over medium heat until golden and some of the fat has rendered (if using bacon, transfer it to a paper towel-lined plate and reserve), 4 to 6 minutes.

- Add oil and 1 tablespoon butter to the skillet and increase heat to medium-high. Sprinkle the onion wedges with the sugar, ½ teaspoon salt, and ¼ teaspoon pepper and cook until browned, about 5 minutes.

- Push the onions to the side of the skillet, add the apples, and cook until beginning to brown, about 3 minutes. Mix the apples and onions together and push to the side.

- Season pork with salt and pepper and place on empty side of skillet. Cook until browned on all sides, about 4 minutes. Distribute apple-onion mixture evenly around pork and top pork with marmalade. Transfer skillet to oven and cook until pork registers 160˚F on an instant read thermometer (145˚F if you like it pink), 8 to 10 minutes.

-Return skillet to stovetop. Transfer pork to cutting board and allow to rest 5 minutes. Meanwhile, stir remaining tablespoon butter and sherry vinegar into apple-onion mixture and adjust seasoning with salt and pepper (if using, add reserved bacon bits). Slice pork into ½” thick pieces and serve, topping with apple-onion sauce. Serve.

HOW TO FRY AN EGG

I was in New York last weekend and went to brunch at a restaurant where I’ve had consistently good food on every single one of my many visits. Sadly, this time around the stars were not in alignment. The meal got off to a bad start when I saw that the bread basket wasn’t on the menu. “Only on Sundays,” I was informed. What? Why can’t the public have baked goods on a Saturday? I was annoyed, but moved on. More room for the huge plate of beef, hash, and eggs I wanted. Not on the menu either. “Seasonal menu,” was the explanation. Apparently cows aren’t in season. Who knew.

Since this was my favorite brunch place when I lived in New York, I let both offenses slide and ordered the special: a breakfast sandwich with spicy merguez sausage, horseradish cream, and my favorite, fried eggs. I settled back into the booth and sipped my coffee. Things were going to be just fine.

And then my food arrived. The eggs – quel horreur! – were completely overcooked. The yolks were firm and the whites were crunchy. I don’t know how you like your eggs, but I like mine over-easy, i.e. firm but not crispy whites and yolks that run when pricked with a fork tine. I don’t usually send things back, but I was revolted and just had to get rid of them. I politely asked for a replacement (I even offered to keep the rest of the dish) and in good faith saw them off. But when the second batch of eggs showed up, I knew it was all over. This pair was raw. No question about it. The whites were not white, but unsettlingly mucous-y and clear, and the yolks bright marigold instead of delicately hidden under a thin, shell pink skin.

Step 3 of my previous post explains how to make eggs over easy, but after last weekend’s debacle it occurred to me that perhaps the frying of an egg – or at least my version of the method – deserved a post all of its own. If you hate this recipe, e-mail me and I’ll tell you where to go in New York for a well done egg.

1 egg
1 pat of butter
1 pinch salt
1 tablespoon water


Crack the egg into a teacup or cereal bowl.



Melt the butter in a small nonstick pan over medium-high heat. Swirl the pan around to evenly grease it.



Gently slide the egg into the skillet and sprinkle it with salt. The edges will start to bubble and turn white after about 15 seconds.



At that point, add the water and cover it with a lid.



Cook the egg for 1 to 2 minutes until the white is set and the yolk has a pale pink coating over it.



Transfer the egg to a plate and enjoy.

WHAT'S FOR DINNER?

I eat a lot of cereal. And usually I eat it at night, rather than in the morning (last week I had a bowl of Frosted Flakes every single evening). My cabinet is stocked with all sorts: Kashi Honey Puffs. Kashi Almond Crunch. Cracklin’ Oat Bran. Frosted Flakes. Honey Bunches of Oats. All Bran. Cocoa Pebbles. Cocoa Puffs. (Yes, I have TWO different chocolate cereals on hand. I can never decide whether I like the soggy pebbles or the crunchy puffs... Maybe I should mix them). While your enthusiasm for cereal may be a little less fanatical than mine, I’m sure you often arrive home after work, exhausted and ravenous, and the first thing you reach for is a bowl and a spoon.

Seriously, though, no one should have to eat cereal for dinner every night. Or takeout. You can cook. Honest. And you don’t need a culinary degree or a long list of ingredients to put together a decent meal. I’ve been delinquent with my blog; weeks will go by without any new posts, mainly because I want something that says “WOW!” to show you, but I think I’d be of better service if I posted some simple, weeknight recipes. So I’ll start today with this super-easy, super-tasty (vegetarian) sandwich for two.

ONION-JALAPENO GRILLED CHEESE SANDWICH with FRIED EGG

4 to 5 tablespoons butter, at room temperature
1 large onion, halved lengthwise and sliced into thin half-moons
2 pickled jalapeño peppers, sliced
Salt and pepper
¼ cup heavy cream
½ cup shredded cheese, or 4 slices cheese of your choice
2 8-inch pieces baguette or 4 slices crusty bread
2 large eggs

MAKE FILLING In a large skillet, melt 2 tablespoons butter and add onion and jalapeños. Sautée over medium-high heat, stirring, until onion softens and begins to caramelize, about 10 minutes. Stir in cream and cook until thickened, about 2 minutes. Season with salt and pepper.Transfer onion mix to bowl.
Wipe out skillet.

ASSEMBLE SANDWICH Butter exterior of baguette pieces or one side of each slice of bread. Spread onion mixture on un-buttered side of one piece of bread, top with cheese and other bread slice. Grill sandwiches, pressing down with spatula, on cleaned skillet, until browned and toasted, then flip and repeat with other side. Transfer to plates.

MAKE EGGS Melt a small pat of butter in skillet and crack eggs into it. When whites begin to bubble, add 3 tablespoons water, cover, and cook over medium heat about 3 minutes (for over easy eggs). Season with salt and pepper and serve alongside sandwich.

CROSS MY HEART

New Year’s resolutions: so easily – nay! so willingly – forgotten. “What’s one more day of not going to the gym?!” we exclaim. “Will one more tiny square of chocolate really add that much to those little fat bundles on my thighs?” we coax ourselves. These feeble excuses are exactly why this year I’ve decided to keep the resolution bar low. In 2009, I solemnly swear to:

1. Dutifully and meticulously apply hand lotion, and,
2. Eat my vegetables.

Although the first point seems by-the-by – as this is a cooking, rather than a beauty, blog – I must say that were my life less intertwined with food my hands would be smooth alabaster instead of the cracked, blotchy red horrors they are. Anyhow, the second point is very relevant.

See, despite my love of vegetables – really, I do love them! Even at the tender age of 6 I appreciated Brussels sprouts – I am very ignorant about them. I’m much more comfortable with things starchy and buttery. But, this year, I promise to learn more about vegetables – and eat them.

I spent the holidays in Southern California where my mother lives – Glorious! Blissful! – and returned to Boston on New Year’s Day, my holiday book-ended by frightful cold and snowy drifts. “Sand yesterday, today snow,” I mumbled sulkily as I burrowed my head deeper into my coat’s hood.

Days later, I am still hiding in my long, shapeless, puffy coat, clodding around in most unfashionable boots better suited to Frankenstein than to a worshiper of high heels. But, despite how bothersome winter is, there are some simple pleasures the season affords, such as soup.

The promise of a steamy bowl of soup can only be fully appreciated when the sky is slate gray and the wind lashes violently at the bare-limbed trees. And so, with these conditions readily available, I looked forward to making dinner. Plus, with my vegetable resolution in place, I felt I had a world of opportunities before me: Carrot! Broccoli! Zucchini! The produce aisle beckoned! “Maybe my 2009 goal is within reach!” I thought to myself – as I massaged gooey Neutrogena lotion into my broken knuckles.

Inspired by some kale chips in this month's issue of Bon Appétit, I decided on cannellini and kale soup with Spanish chorizo. Soups, in case you were wondering, are very easy to make. The holy trinity of vegetables – onions, carrots, celery – should live in your refrigerator’s crisper drawer since they are the foundation of many a hot bowl. Chicken broth is also a must – either homemade or the boxed stuff will do – and your vegetable of choice. A pork product is great, too, as foundation or garnish (bacon, pancetta, sausage, etc.).

Kale, dark green and luxuriously bumpy, like croc skin.

For this particular soup you’ll need:

3 tablespoons olive oil
1 cup finely chopped onion
1 celery rib, peeled and finely chopped
1 medium-sized carrot, peeled, halved lengthwise, and thinly sliced
Salt and pepper
1 teaspoon red pepper flakes
2 teaspoons dried thyme (or 1 teaspoon freshly minced thyme leaves)
4 (15-ounce) cans cannellini beans, one can pureed, the rest drained and rinsed
1 bunch kale (about 2 pounds), stems removed
3 to 4 cups chicken broth
4 ounces Spanish chorizo, thinly sliced
1 tablespoon lemon juice
Optional: Parmesan cheese for topping

-Preheat oven to 250˚F. Select 6 kale leaves from the bunch and cut in half lengthwise. Rub each leaf with olive oil and place on a baking sheet. Bake until crisp, about 30 minutes. Reserve.

-Coarsely chop remainder of kale and set aside.

-On medium heat, heat oil in a 4-quart-capacity pot. Add onion, celery, carrot, 3 teaspoons salt, and red pepper flakes and cook, stirring, until onions are translucent and celery and carrot are softened, 10 to 15 minutes.

-Add the three cans of drained and rinsed beans, increase heat to medium-high, and sauté, stirring, for about 5 minutes. Add pureed beans and 3 cups broth and bring to a boil.

-Meanwhile, in a large skillet, cook chorizo on medium-high heat until lightly toasted, about 3 minutes. With a slotted spoon, transfer chorizo to a paper towel-lined plate. Add chopped kale and 1 teaspoon salt to now empty skillet and sauté until kale is slightly wilted and deep green, 3 to 5 minutes. Add kale to soup and simmer about 15 minutes.

-Season soup with salt and pepper and add lemon juice. Serve, topping soup with chorizo chips, toasted kale, and fresh Parmesan crumbles.

Leftovers:
Reheat soup – adding more chicken broth if needed – and serve topped with a poached egg and chorizo.

BEST IN SHOW

Come November, people inevitably start talking turkey. Food magazines arrive with sumptuous roasted birds on their covers, and TV shows all dole out advice on brining, basting, and carving, while the Butterball folks do a thorough ear swabbing to make sure panicky callers’ questions regarding turkey troubles come through loud and clear. I however, boycotted the Turkey Talk-Line® once again, opting for a bird of a different feather this year: duck.

I guess despite my love for the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade and secret wish that one day I’ll win Megamillions and be able to afford an apartment on the Upper West Side from where I’ll be able to watch said parade while hosting lavish parties, I didn’t grow up with all-American Thanksgivings. I honestly can’t remember when or why we started observing Thanksgiving. Anyway, I now appreciate it mostly for its nondenominational quality; it’s a family holiday that people of all races and creeds can participate in and enjoy and be thankful (or not-so-thankful, as the case may be) for. That being said, I have no deep-rooted loyalty to Thanksgiving’s mascot, the turkey.

Having never cooked duck at home before I was a little nervous, but it seemed fated to succeed. A few days ago I watched a mouth-watering Jamie Oliver episode where he slow-roasted a duck, then someone at work mentioned he was making slow-roasted duck for Thanksgiving and promised to send me the recipe, and wouldn’t you know it? It was Mr. Oliver’s! I took only the essence of the recipe, which was to generously salt the duck inside and out, cook in a 350˚F oven for 1 hour, then for an additional 1 ½ hours at 300˚F, twice or thrice ladling out (and reserving!!!) the duck fat. It was perfection – and a monkey could make it.

Last year there were about 10 of us at dinner, and I transported food across state lines – food I’d started preparing about two weeks in advance – but this year there were only three of us, and I decided I’d take it easy… No running around with half a pat of butter in my frizzy, frazzled hair, no cursing (OK, that’s a stretch – there’s always a little cursing in the kitchen), no sweating, no too-tired-of-looking-at-the-food-to-eat. No, this year, I watched the Macy’s parade and then the dog show (the Pointer won, but I was rooting for the Frenchie) and finally started roasting the duck at 4:00pm, beer in hand (I like to keep it classy). The sides - cornbread stuffing with duck sausage, toasted hazelnuts, sage, and pomegranate seeds; spiced roasted butternut squash with toasted squash seeds; and duck-fat roasted Brussels sprouts - came together once the duck was almost ready. It was the way to go – the secret was the no-nonsense, foolproof centerpiece. If we had a National Bird Show on Thanksgiving, I’m sure turkey would be Best in Show, but I’d still be rooting for the underdog – or duck.

TOPSY TURVY

Once upon a time, in the faraway land called Matagalpa, my great-grandmother made an upside-down pineapple cake – or pineapple turnover, as she called it. This turnover was subsequently made by my grandmother, then my mother, and a few weeks ago, me. Everyone knows pineapple upside-down cake, but it’s not quite as chic as say, flourless chocolate cake. I suppose its out-of-a-can-pineapple topping and occasional studding with maraschino cherries is a little kitschy and June Cleaver-ish, but why not? Sometimes a piece of cake from memory lane is just the thing.

PINEAPPLE TURNOVER

This recipe calls for a cast iron skillet, but as my skillet is seasoned with bacon and beans, I used my tarte tatin pan, which is about 10 inches in diameter. If memory serves me, my mom has made this in a 9 x 13-inch pan.

1 stick (4 ounces) butter
1 cup milk
1 ½ cups white sugar
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
2 eggs, separated
1 ½ cups brown sugar
2 teaspoons baking powder
2 cups flour
5 slices of pineapple
5 cherries (optional)

-To make batter, cream ½ stick of butter with white sugar. Mix in well with egg yolks. Sift together flour and baking powder, and add alternately with milk. Add vanilla.
-Beat egg whites and fold in batter. Set aside.
-In cast iron skillet, place ½ stick of butter in small dabs, and add brown sugar, pouring evenly over butter. Place 1 slice of pineapple in center of pan and other slices around, centering each with a cherry. Pour batter over this and bake in a slow oven, 300 degrees F. for 1 hour or until done.
-Test by inserting toothpick in center of cake and when toothpick comes out clean it is done!
-Enjoy! 


I had leftover pineapple chunks and used them instead of rounds.

This is my tarte tatin pan -- don't make it in anything smaller than a 10" round pan as batter will surely overflow.

CANDY IS DANDY

...but liquor is quicker.

I’ve been deathly ill since Friday and don’t seem to be getting any better, despite having marinated in VapoRub all weekend long. I thought I had the croup, but am now convinced that it’s galloping consumption. In addition, I’ve lost my voice. Am seriously considering hanging a small slate around my neck and communicating via chalk missives. I tried sign language at work today, but don’t think the single crude finger signal I know counts as proper signing.

I’ve been self-medicating with OTC meds and bagfuls of Ricola, but those little suckers aren’t very effective. My mother suggested a home-brewed concoction, and though it may sound a bit iffy at first, you’ll warm to it as soon as you see there’s a little sneaky peek in the mix. It’s not a cure-all, maybe not even a cure-anything, but it’s a wonderfully soothing nightcap. ¡Salud!

MILK & MIEL

1 cup milk
1 cinnamon stick
2 tablespoons honey (more to taste)
¼ cup dark rum

-Bring all ingredients to a slow simmer over medium heat.
-Pour into mug and serve.

P.S.This is not a Bacardí endorsement. I just couldn't get Flor de Caña.

CHOPPING BROCCOLI

I was out of town the week before last and came home to a near-empty fridge and a series of dinners that I can’t even recall right now, they were so unmemorable. I think there was a lot of cereal. And plain spaghetti.

This dinner lethargy spilled over into the weekend and again, I stared into a vacant ice box. There were some flour tortillas, a tiny tub of mango and red onion salsa (which I have yet to throw away), a container with leftover red bell pepper tops and bottoms, a depleted box of Maison du Chocolat assorted chocolates, vermouth, and a bag of carrots which are starting to sprout monster roots. Not my finest moment. I did, however, have a drawerful of beautiful broccoli rabe which I was determined to eat my way through this weekend. And I did. All 3.5 pounds of it. If you’re wondering how I didn’t get sick of it, see below for the various interpretations of that brash, biting green (which is a relative of the turnip, and not broccoli, if you were wondering):

SATURDAY: Broccoli rabe “fritto” – inspired by the Zuni Café Cookbook

1 bunch broccoli rabe
2 cups flour (unbleached all-purpose or whole wheat)
1 cup cornmeal
2 cups plain yogurt
vegetable oil
salt & pepper


-In one shallow dish, spread out the flour and cornmeal and combine well. Pour the yogurt into another shallow dish and season generously with salt and pepper.
-Heat about two inches of vegetable oil in a frying pan over medium-high heat.
-Meanwhile, one at a time, dunk each stalk of broccoli rabe into the yogurt then coat with the flour mix. Lay the coated broccoli on a baking rack.


Once all the broccoli rabe is coated, fry until golden in the hot oil. Make sure the broccoli bubbles somewhat violently when you place it in the oil: if you try in cool oil you’ll have a wilted, soggy mess. Also, don’t overcrowd the pan.
Transfer the fried broccoli rabe to a paper towel-lined plate and sprinkle with salt.
Serve.



SUNDAY: Broccoli rabe with toasted bulgur wheat and dates

1 cup bulgur wheat
2 cups water
olive oil
1/3 cup dried dates, chopped
1 bunch broccoli rabe
2 garlic cloves
½ teaspoon red pepper flakes
salt & pepper
anchovy fillets (optional)

-Set water to boil in a large pot.
-Separately, in a small saucepan, start the wheat. Heat about 1 tablespoon olive oil over medium-high heat. Add the bulgur wheat and cook, stirring, until deep golden and toasty. Add dates, 1 teaspoon salt, a few generous grindings of pepper, and water. Boil until the wheat’s surface is visible, reduce the heat to low, cover, and cook until all water is absorbed, about 15 minutes. Set aside.
-Cook broccoli rabe in boiling water with 1 tablespoon salt until tender, 2 to 3 minutes. Drain, run under cold water until cool enough to handle, drain again, and transfer to a cutting board. Coarsely chop broccoli rabe.
-Heat 2 tablespoons oil in a large skillet over high heat. Add garlic and red pepper flakes and cook, stirring, 1 to 2 minutes. Add broccoli rabe and sauté until heated through, about 3 minutes. Season with salt and pepper.
-Serve broccoli rabe atop bulgur wheat. Top wih anchovy fillet.




MONDAY: Broccoli rabe, bacon, and cannellini bean pasta


2 strips good bacon
½ teaspoon red pepper flakes
olive oil
2 garlic cloves, finely sliced
1 15-oz. can cannellini beans, drained
1 bunch about 12 oz. broccoli rabe
8 oz. angel hair / cappellini pasta


-Set water plus 1 tablespoon salt to boil in a large pot.
-Heat 1 tablespoon oil in large skillet over medium heat. Add bacon, garlic, and red pepper flakes and cook, stirring, until bacon is cooked through. If bacon begins to burn, lower the heat.
-Cook broccoli rabe in boiling water until tender, 2 to 3 minutes. Do not drain water: transfer broccoli rabe with tongs to colander set over large bowl. Run broccoli rabe under cold water until cool enough to handle, drain again, and transfer to a cutting board. Coarsely chop broccoli rabe.
-Add cannellini beans to bacon skillet and cook 2 to 3 minutes. Add the broccoli rabe and cook until heated through, about 3 minutes. Season with salt and pepper.
-Add pasta to boiling water and cook until al dente. Reserve ¼ cup of cooking water, then drain pasta and return to pot. Add 2 tablespoons olive oil, reserved water, and broccoli rabe mixture. Toss to coat and serve with grated parmesan.

BACK IN THE SADDLE AGAIN

I wish I could say I’d been off summering somewhere fabulous and glitzy, but the reason behind my long absence is much more plebeian and pedestrian: I started working and have been acclimating to my new situation. That being done, I am now back and ready to start feeding the blog – it’s looking a bit gaunt at the moment.

To ease into things, a simple recipe of French toast – quick and comforting for those Sunday mornings when the promise of Monday starts looming ominously in the distance:

For 4 (or 2 with roomy stomachs)

1 C. milk
3 whole eggs
½ C. plus 1 TBSP. granulated sugar
¼ tsp. salt
1 tsp. vanilla extract
3 TBSP. butter
8 tsp. cinnamon
8 slices hearty bread
¼ C. toasted pecans or walnuts, toasted
2 bananas, sliced into ¼”-thick rounds

-In a pie plate or shallow bowl, whisk together milk, eggs, 1 TBSP. sugar, salt, and vanilla.

-Heat a large nonstick skillet over medium-high heat and add 1 ½ TBSP. butter. When the butter begins to foam, sprinkle the skillet with 2 TBSP. sugar and 1 tsp. cinnamon.


-One at a time (or two, if they fit) dip 4 bread slices in the egg mixture, turning to coat (don’t let the bread just sit there unless you want mush for breakfast). Arrange the dipped slices on the sugared’n’cinnamoned skillet and cook till nicely browned, 2 to 3 minutes.


-While that first side is cooking, sprinkle the soggy side facing you with 2 TBSP. sugar and 2 tsp. cinnamon. Flip bread and cook opposite side. You should have a lovely crunchy crust on your toast.
Repeat dipping, buttering, sugaring’n’cinnamoning, and cooking with remaining bread slices.

-Arrange French toast on plates and top with pecans and sliced banana. Sprinkle with powdered sugar and serve with maple syrup, if desired.


NOTES: Under no circumstances should you use flimsy sliced white bread for French toast. It’ll soak up all the liquid and be a hopeless wet mop of a thing. Stick to heartier stuff like challah or those so-called Italian loaves… I like a croissant now and then (but then I top it with whipped cream and berries), but only if it’s a sub-par one – no sense in using a perfect specimen for this.

ADIOS, COLONEL

Kentucky Fried Chicken is a thing of the past to me. I don’t have beef with that fast food chain in particular – although that rat infestation at a downtown New York City branch a summer or two ago was pretty bad – but for one reason or other, that red-and-white bucket hasn’t graced my dinner table in many a moon. However, the memory of the Colonel’s secret 11-herbs-and-spices recipe is forever embedded in my brain and taste buds.

I’ve eaten fried chicken several times at my paternal grandmother’s house - pollo a la canasta (basket-style chicken – perhaps alluding to a picnic basket?) in local parlance - and it appeared every now and then at home. Also, there’s a chicken chain in Nicaragua called Tip-Top that built its fame on fried chicken, and once in a while on Sundays we’d have lunch there on our way to my grandparents’ house in Granada. All were good and had that homemade touch, but that was just the problem, they were very obviously homemade and lacking that extra-crispy skin. I wanted the Colonel’s secret.

None of my kitchens have ever witnessed fried chicken. I was always afraid of the stink all the frying would produce, I had concerns about flabby skin and undercooked chicken, I didn’t have a recipe I trusted, etc. etc. Fried chicken was just not an option. The closest I ever got was buying Tyson’s breaded chicken fingers. And I baked those.

Last week, though, as people at work geared up for the long 4th of July weekend, I got a hankering for fried chicken. I don’t have a grill, so barbecue was out, and fried chicken seemed to be a very all-American, very apropos thing to make. I was so caught up in the idea that I didn’t even consider my previous fears and hesitations. And, as luck and fate would have it, I came across a special issue of Cook’s Illustrated titled “American Classics.” There on the cover, was the most beautiful, textured, mahogany-colored plate of fried chicken I’ve ever seen. There was no stopping me now; I would become the Colonel.

Preparation is a bit intense, but, so worth it. I made one bird and ate most of it – with the help of the husband – in two sittings. We miraculously had a leftover breast which we ate out of the fridge the next day and though not warm and as crunchy, it remained incredibly finger lickin’ good. Make it for a crowd – spread the love.

FRIED CHICKEN
Adapted from Cook’s Illustrated

As I mentioned above, the prep time is a bit lengthy, but cooking goes by in a flash – and it’s not smelly, believe it or not. Make sure you have at least one grid rack, and instant read thermometer.

½ cup plus 2 tablespoons table salt
¼ cup sugar
2 tablespoons paprika
3 medium garlic heads, cloves separated
3 bay leaves
2 quarts low-fat buttermilk
1 whole chicken (about 3 ½ pounds), giblets discarded, cut into 12 pieces (each breast cut in half crosswise, thighs and drumsticks separated, wings cut into two pieces)
4 cups unbleached all-purpose flour
1 large egg
1 teaspoon baking powder
½ teaspoon baking soda
3 – 4 cups refined peanut oil or vegetable shortening


-In large zipper-lock bag, combine salt, sugar, paprika, garlic cloves, and bay leaves. With rubber mallet or flat meat pounder, smash garlic into salt and spice mixture thoroughly. Pour mixture into large plastic container or nonreactive stockpot. Add 7 cups buttermilk and stir until salt and sugar are completely dissolved. Immerse chicken and refrigerate 2 to 3 hours.

-Remove chicken from buttermilk brine and shake off excess, discarding any garlic and bay leaf bits. Place chicken pieces in single layer on a large wire rack set over a rimmed baking sheet. Refrigerate, uncovered, for 2 hours. (You can refrigerate in for an additional 6 hours – just make sure you cover chicken with plastic wrap).

-Measure flour into large shallow dish. Beat egg, baking powder, and baking soda in medium bowl; stir in remaining 1 cup buttermilk (mixture will bubble and foam). Working in batches of 3, drop chicken pieces in flour and shake dish to evenly coat. Shake excess flour from each piece, then, using tongs, dip chicken pieces into egg mixture, turning to coat well and allowing excess to drip off. Coat chicken pieces with flour again, shake off excess, and return to wire rack.

-Line large plate with double layer paper towels. Heat oil (oil should be 2 ½ inches deep in pan) to 375˚F over medium-high heat in large 8-quart cast-iron Dutch oven with a diameter of about 12 inches. (I made mine in a 4-quart capacity and had no trouble – just make sure you can safely add the oil and chicken without causing an overflow).
Place half the chicken pieces skin-side down in oil, cover, reduce heat to medium, and fry until deep golden brown, 6 to 8 minutes. After about 3 minutes, uncover the pan, lift the chicken pieces with tongs to check for even browning; rearrange the pieces if some are cooking faster than others. Check the oil’s temperature – at this point it should be at about 325˚F.

-Once the first side is deep golden brown, turn the pieces and cook the opposite side 6 to 8 minutes, uncovered. Transfer to paper towel-lined plate, allow to drain, then transfer to wire rack.

-Meanwhile, bring the oil back up to 375˚F and cook the remaining chicken in the same manner.

-Devour.

OPEN WIDE & SAY AAAHHHHH

A Counter burger.

In anticipation of our May trip to Los Angeles, the husband and I spent countless hours researching the food scene of that city. As it was a family trip, we knew we’d have a jam-packed schedule, and thus much time was spent by Señor O in mapping out eateries and reviewing menus and online comments. At last, our selections were meticulously organized into an Excel spreadsheet and off we went. Don’t laugh – this document was as precious to us as maps of the stars’ homes are to Hollywood tourists.

Among the places we chose to visit was The Counter, a burger joint that claims to offer 312,120+ different, DIY, burger combinations said to be “as unique as each customer.” I don’t know who crunched the numbers necessary to come up with that figure nor how exact it is, but I can confirm that the number of choices offered on their check-this-box-if-you-want-this-on-your-burger menu is dizzying: Beefturkeyveggiegrilledchickenorinabowlbuildyourownburgerwithoutthebunchoicesareagainbeefturkeyveggieandgrilledchickennowinstep#2youcanpickacheeseanycheesesteprightupandpickoneortwooreventhreefromgruyèretoyellowamericantoHORSERADISHCHEDDARifyouarenotoverwhelmedyetmoveontostep#3andchooseuptoFOURtoppingsbutnoyoudonothavetostopatfourpayalittlemorenadupittosixseveneightifyourstomachandbunscantakeitgoaheadmakeitblackolivesdillpicklechipsHARDBOILEDorfriedEGGSandorSPICYPEPPERONCINISandthenSTEP#3.5!!!!!foronemorebuckonlyCHILIoravocadoorFRIEDONIONSTRINGS…

OK, I think you get the gist of it. The only things really missing from this vast menu are whipped cream and maraschino cherries – I think those are reserved for their equally exorbitant shakes.

It took me a while to settle on a 1/3-pounder beef burger with Gruyère, grilled pineapple, bacon, and I forget what else. I really wanted a fried egg but thought that with the grilled pineapple and other etc.’s would be a bit much. Imagine then my surprise when I opened up Gourmet’s July issue to discover the Aussie Burger, a Down Under burger that could hardly be contained between two buns. The ingredients in this Oz-worthy sandwich: beef patty, fried eggs, grilled pineapple, pickled beets, grilled onions (optional), and chile mayo. One glance at this whopper’s gorgeous photo was all I needed to declare it Burger Night – plus, I’d baked rolls the day before and the leftovers would be put to very good use.

Behold, my Open-Wide-and-Say-Ahhh-Burgers:

CORN OFF THE COB

Sinking your teeth into the sweet, tender crunchiness of a fresh ear of corn is one of summer’s indubitable pleasures, the butter-slathered kernels yielding to your eager bite, the salt crusting your upper lip. For many of us, that first bite acts as a time machine, transporting us to the county fair or the Sunday afternoon backyard barbecue of our youth. My corny time machine takes me to Reino Aventura, a Six Flags-like amusement park in Mexico City where I had a Corn on the Cob, The Extreme Version: grilled corn generously schmeared with mayonnaise, sprinkled with grated cheese and chile piquín, and finished off with a squirt of lime.

But, regardless of whether it’s consumed in English or en español, nibblers will agree that eating corn on the cob has some unattractive side effects; bits and pieces of kernel stubbornly fix themselves in our gums, between our canines, incisors, and molars, making our faces contort and twitch as we not-so-discreetly attempt to dislodge them with the tips of our tongues. Even in the comfort and privacy of my own home, I can’t stand the struggle.

So, the other day when I was craving Mexican street corn, I decided I’d deconstruct the local treat and serve it forth in a bowl. It would be a much more Emily Post-ish eating experience, besides which I would be able to get larger mouthfuls (not so Emily Post, in the end).

Though versions abound, this is my recipe for Mexican Corn Off the Cob. Serve it as a side dish to grilled steak, fajitas, or as a topping for quesadillas.

MEXICAN CORN OFF THE COB
Serves 2 to 3

6 ears of corn, husks and silk removed (yields approx. 3 cups of kernels)
2 tsps. corn oil
2 to 3 TBSP. mayonnaise
Juice of one lime
chile piquín or chile de árbol flakes, to taste
1/3 C. grated cotija cheese

-With a small, sharp paring knife, scrape the kernels off the cob. Work in a large shallow bowl so you can catch the kernels as well as any milk that may leak out.

-Heat oil in a large skillet over high heat until shimmering. Add kernels and toss to coat in oil. Either stir or shake kernels constantly until they are nicely toasted – I prefer mine a bit charred.

-Pour corn into a serving bowl and season with salt and pepper. Stir in mayonnaise, then sprinkle with chile and cheese. Drizzle with lemon juice and serve.

"De-cobbing."

BRAN-Y AND BEAUTIFUL

If you played a word association game and the term “bran” was thrown at you, chances are you’d blurt out responses like, “constipation!” “old people!” “laxatives!” Whenever I’m in the cereal aisle and I see that box with the big, bold All-Bran logo, cheap and very literal toilet humor comes to mind. Note to Kellogg’s: making John McEnroe the star of your 10-Day Challenge commercials isn’t going to increase cereal sales. If you were to wake up to find John McEnroe perched at your bedside, wouldn’t you just go right then and there, thereby negating the need to have a bowl of Kellogg’s All-Bran?

Let’s turn our attention now to bran in its baked incarnation: the bran muffin. It’s the ugly duckling of the breakfast breads with its dung brown color and lack of accessories in the form of streusel topping and/or chocolate chips. If you’re a late morning arrival at the office cafeteria, it’s usually only crumbs and bran muffins that remain.

But despite the fault-finding I’ve been doing, I do like bran cereal and muffins. I do! Sliced bananas and a handful of blueberries make those dry doodles agreeable, and a great bran muffin is nutty, tasty, and won’t sit like an undigested rock in your stomach. I hadn’t baked any in years, and was happily surprised with the results I got from this recipe. These muffins are moist and light and can be eaten plain, spread with butter and good preserves, or my favorite, split in half and grilled a day later. P.S. to Kellogg’s: These are a far better advertisement than Mr. McEnroe.

EVERYDAY MAPLE-BRAN MUFFINS WITH BLUEBERRIES
Adapted from “The Art of Quick Breads” by Beth Hensperger
Yields about 1 dozen standard muffins.


1 ½ C. cultured buttermilk or plain low-fat yogurt
2 eggs
¼ C. (½ stick) unsalted butter, melted
¼ C. vegetable oil
¼ C. pure maple syrup
1 ½ C. All-Bran cereal
1 ½ C. fresh or unthawed blueberries
1 C. unbleached all-purpose flour
½ C. wheat or oat bran flakes
¼ C. light brown sugar
1 tsp. baking powder
1 tsp. baking soda
¼ tsp. salt

-Preheat the oven to 400˚F with rack in the center.

-Grease a standard 12-cup muffin tin.

-In a large bowl, whisk together: yogurt or buttermilk + eggs + melted butter + oil + maple syrup + All Bran.
Stir in the blueberries and allow to stand at room temperature 5 – 10 minutes.

-In a different bowl, combine the remaining (dry) ingredients.

-Once the All Bran mix has rested, add the dry ingredients mix and stir briskly with a large spatula or spoon till evenly moistened, using no more than 15 strokes.

-Spoon the batter into each muffin cup, filling till nearly level with the top of the pan.

-Bake 20 – 25 minutes until browned and a cake tester comes out clean.

-Allow muffins to rest in tin about 5 minutes before turning out on rack to cool. Serve warm.

-To freeze leftovers: Cool completely and wrap muffins individually in wax paper and store in plastic baggies.

-To serve frozen muffins: Warm in a 350˚F oven, microwave 20 – 30 seconds, or split in half horizontally, butter both sides of each half and grill over medium heat till golden and hot.

Grilled muffins served with fruit salad and honey-laced yogurt.

I'VE GOT THE BLUES

Summer in all its fury has arrived and though I hail from tropical climes I have no tolerance for high temperatures. Try as I might to ignore it, I feel the moist heat insidiously making its way into my skin through every tiny pore, till I am overcome by it, enshrouded as if by giant moth wings. Usually, when people are gadding about frolicking in the sun, I prefer to draw the blinds and hide in the cool comfort of air-conditioning.

Summer does have its positive points of course, one of them being ice cream. Though perfectly acceptable during cooler seasons, ice cream is a treat best enjoyed when the mercury rises tall. This past weekend O and I walked down the street to J.P. Licks for a scoop and were met with a long line of eager customers. A mound of cappuccino crunch was just what we needed to bring the temperature down.

This horrid 95˚F-plus weather has been here for a few days now, and just as foodstuffs are dried, salted, pickled, and canned for the barren winter months, so must the fridge be stocked with cold, refreshing foods like crisp greens, bright fruit punches, and obviously, ice cream in anticipation of days hot and humid.

Rather than setting out daily under the unrelenting blaze of the sun for a cup or a cone, it is better to have a pint – or a quart – of something iced and creamy in the freezer. I’d come across this recipe for Blueberry Sour Cream Ice Cream in Dorie Greenspan’s “Baking” tome a few months ago, but was waiting for the appropriate weather forecast and ripe berries to come along, and finally, they did – hand-in-hand, too.

BLUEBERRY SOUR CREAM ICE CREAM
Adapted from “Baking: From My Home to Yours” Dorie Greenspan
Yields approx. 1 pint

Special equipment: ice cream maker & container in which to store the finished product – unless you plan on eating it all in one sitting, straight out of the bowl.

1 C. blueberries (you are free to use thawed and drained frozen berries)
1/3 C. sugar
Pinch of salt
Grated zest and juice of ¼ lemon
¾ C. heavy cream
¾ C. sour cream

-Put blueberries + sugar + salt + zest + juice in a medium, non-reactive saucepan and cook over medium heat, stirring, till mix boils and berries pop, about 3 minutes.

-Purée the mix in a blender till fairy homogenous, about 1 minute.

-Add heavy and sour creams and pulse just to blend.

-Taste and adjust flavor by squirting in a bit more juice, adding a pinch more salt, and/or a teaspoon of sugar.

-Refrigerate mix till completely cooled and process according to your ice cream maker’s instructions.

SWINED AND DINED

Ever since my return from LA I’ve been thinking on the bacon-wrapped hot dog. As that ultimate of downtown delicacies doesn’t exist in my current place of residence, I would have no choice but to recreate it in the confines of my kitchen. Last week, as the object of my consideration became an obsession, it became a tentative item on the week’s dinner menu. Though I was eager to undertake Mission Bacon Dog, there were details that needed to be sorted out, for instance: What variety of frank would be the best? How thick did the bacon it would be draped in be? Also, what garnishes should top it? In LA it was a veritable Mexican parranda, with guacamole, grilled jalapeños, and sautéed onions and peppers, but did I want a different, more personalized theme?

I started researching garnishes and was in the midst of studying homemade pickling, when suddenly, at 6:00pm on Wednesday last week, my ruminations came to a jaw-grinding halt: I discovered there was no Spanish chorizo to be had at Whole Foods. Spanish chorizo was the key ingredient in the recipe I’d intended for dinner, and without it, I had nothing.

Plan B-less, I looked around in a panic. It was getting late, the after-work crowd had descended, Señor O was growing irritable, and though I kept pressing myself into the corner of a cereal display, shoppers trying to squeeze past were giving me the stink eye. I kept staring at the bins of salami, willing them to transform into the chorizo I needed, but salami they obstinately remained.

I’d had ample opportunity to view the stacks of hot dog packs while on my desperate search for chorizo, and knew all I had to do was reach out and grab one, but truth to tell, I didn’t want that particular Wednesday to be Mission Bacon Dog night because all the variables weren’t in place, but I was between a rock and a hard place – i.e. Señor O’s glare – so I caved in and bought a package of all-natural Wellshire Frank beef hot dogs, a few slices of Whole Foods bacon, and a bag of buns.

Now, another of the questions I’d been pondering was how to keep the bacon in place while the wiener cooked. There were no sticks or strings on the LA one, and I was determined not to cheat. I was concerned, however, because the bacon was a little too thick and a bit raggedy to boot. Also, I’d had to use one-and-a-half slices per sausage because one wasn’t enough to spiral around the whole thing.

I assumed/hoped that the tacky quality of the meats would be enough to adhere them to each other, and to my surprise, the bacon held even after I gently laid two blanketed dogs in the skillet. A mound of onions that I’d set to cook earlier was melting into a caramelized pile while the bacon dogs sizzled and released a deliciously porky aroma.

Everything in its place.

The Mission was going smoothly until I tried to turn the hot dogs; the bacon started to peel off. With the help of tongs and a spatula, I did the best I could to keep the hot dogs clothed, but it they were beyond help. We were starving by this time and the smell of frying bacon and onions was overpowering.

Take it off!

I finished stripping the hot dogs and waited for the whole mess to brown, then I stuffed a hefty helping of the dripping mess into a warm bun and settled down to a dinner that would make those LA vendors proud.

Mission accomplished.