Monday, April 27, 2009

A Personal Epiphany, Made in the Kitchen

I recently wrote about my (mis)adventures in the kitchen while cooking for my mom about a week ago. Perhaps I lack a certain kind of self-awareness, but it has continued to truly puzzle me why everything seemed just so-so when it had been so delicious the first (and second) time I made these recipes.

Last night, I hosted my dear friend and culinary mentor, Alison, for dinner. I very purposely kept the menu very simple and only made dishes I’d made multiple times. Should have been a piece of cake. AGAIN, everything was good but not great. I found it less upsetting overall because, well, she’s not my mom, and I guess I care (slightly) less about impressing her.

So, the menu: I served two phenomenal cheeses with sliced baguette. Frankly, I think we both would have been satisfied with just wine and these cheeses: Pierre Robert, an incredibly rich, flavorful triple-crème cow’s milk cheese from France and Truffle Tremor, a ripened goat’s milk cheese laced with bits of truffle and made by Cypress Grove in California. I chose well! Next, we had my favorite and easy roasted salmon with lemon relish from Great Food Fast. I’ve made this at least three other times for guests. Lastly, I whipped up some dark chocolate fondue and served it with pound cake cubes (from Whole Foods), pretzels, organic strawberries, bananas and graham crackers.

So, how could things possibly go awry? My salmon was overcooked and dry, I inexplicably didn’t have enough relish to go around and, hours later, found the toasted pine nuts for the salmon still sitting in the toaster oven. 

Now, I certainly wasn’t agonizing about these things. But I did go to bed wondering, “why?”—and, suddenly, an epiphany.

I cook to be quiet, to feel calm, to be alone. In the Myers-Briggs personality test, I am almost entirely “E,” as in extroverted. I love to chit chat, hate to be alone, and am, to be honest, wildly uncomfortable with an idle mind. In fact (and this is a little secret), I am incapable of just being still even for the five minutes it takes Ben to get ready for bed before we go to sleep. I have to read or do puzzles. I’m not sure quite why, but I am really, really uneasy with stillness and quiet. Not a Zen bone in my body. Or so I thought. 

What I realized last night is that, while I love to plan meals, choose special foods that I know will please my guests, set the table with fresh linens and flowers, I really don’t like to entertain. Actually, that’s not it at all. I love to have people over, love to sit and talk for hours over wine. It’s just that what I love about cooking, and, what I probably don’t find in other aspects of my life, is lost when I’m cooking for others.

Of course, every day I’m cooking for two (and soon three) others. But, when we met, Ben ate two things: spaghetti and turkey burgers. And, while she has a phenomenal palate, Sophia is still a four-year-old. And Joseph? Well, he still thinks that his fingers are the tastiest treat. While they are, technically, an audience, I feel no pressure cooking for my family. I figure they’ll be happy with whatever I make.

A lot of why I like to cook, and why I put so much time and energy into it, is that when I’m alone in the kitchen, my mind is still while my body is at work. I like to just follow the directions and groove on the process (I’m very process-oriented). I’m sure that, while I was making dinner for Alison last night, we were gabbing a mile a minute and I forgot to pay attention to timing, quantities, garnishes. 

Of course, I’m not going to stop entertaining the people I love, and I’m surely going to continue to feel distracted when I have a favorite guest sitting at the counter while I cook. I suppose, then, that I will have to make peace with the fact that, ironically, my best cooking will be my that which I do just for myself.

Wednesday, April 22, 2009

Most Amazing Macaroni & Cheese

I am not a mac and cheese kind of gal... kind of boring and usually too greasy. This new recipe caught my eye in my new Bon Appétit mostly a) because it looked like it would make dinner plus lunch leftovers (true), b) because it constitutes a one-dish dinner, which theoretically should make dinner easier (not necessarily true) and c) because it had veggies in the center, and veggies are always a hit in my house (definitely true). It is OMG so delicious and completely changed my thoughts about mac and cheese forever.

I made this for Earth Day and liked that it was vegetarian and green in the middle, and I made it with as many organic ingredients as I had on hand.

I also (of course) changed several things in the recipe, mostly out of frugality. First, the original calls for a blend of two cheeses: aged gouda and edam. Now, while I am a huge fan of these two wonderful Dutch cheeses, having been introduced to them as a kid by my dad, another cheese lover, I am not a fan of $12 macaroni and cheese. I also had a big loaf of Tillamook medium cheddar on hand. So, I instead used a blend of mostly cheddar with a bit of organic Parmigiano-Reggiano added in, and it was scrumptious.

Other changes: I used the full one-pound box of noodles instead of the 12 oz. the author called for (perfectly fine change), and I probably used closer to two pounds of chard instead of 1½. Chard bunches were only 99 cents, were fresh and beautiful and I knew my crowd would appreciate extra green. It certainly didn’t seem like too much, and I’d maintain all of these changes next time. I’ll probably continue to play with the cheese combination... the possibilities are endless and surely all tasty. How can you go wrong with cheese?

The only flaw, if you can call it that, is that it felt like this recipe dirtied every pot and utensil in the kitchen—Cuisinart to shred cheeses, bowls for mixing, Pyrex cups for measuring, several pans for cooking, strainers, spoons, whisks. What a mess!

As I put the dish in the oven to bake, I wasn’t sure it was worth all the trouble. One bite... DEFINITELY worth all the trouble! A huge hit all around!

Tuesday, April 21, 2009

Creamy Pasta with Cremini, Asparagus & Walnuts

Giada is the master of the no-sauce pasta, and this recipe is no exception. Not remarkable, but simple and full of veggies, this is a great weeknight dinner. I also like that it’s easy to switch out the green veggie based on what’s affordable and in season. Theoretically asparagus is in season right now, but it was $3 a pound and very thick yesterday, so I opted instead for frozen petite peas, which are sweet, bright green and absolutely delicious! If you have not discovered these yet, rush right out and buy a bag. They’re fabulous in pasta or risotto, very affordable, and one of those veggies that doesn’t need to be organic.

I also used whole wheat rotini instead of farfalle, because I think whole wheat pasta makes better leftovers... it just holds up nicely. The biggest problem with this recipe is that it lacks depth of flavor and it doesn’t reheat well. I don’t really like black pepper at all, except as a flavoring in soups, but even I sprinkled this with a little pepper to add some punch. And the mascarpone that you toss in to make the “sauce” gets lost in reheating. 

I’ve made this before and I’ll continue to make it, even thought it’s a three-star recipe. It only takes about 20 minutes to prep and cook, I love the combination of walnuts, green veggie and sautéed mushrooms and it makes a lot of food, providing an extra lunch or dinner for later in the week.

Blueberry Muffins

As you may have gathered from previous posts, I try to provide snack for Sophia’s preschool class once a month. In the Montessori world, snack is actually a “work”—students serve themselves that day’s snack on glass plates, pour themselves juice or water into little glasses, join their friends at a table to eat, then clean up their dishes. It’s adorable.

For whatever reason, and probably because of where we live and my own attitudes about food, I feel self-imposed pressure for snack to be creative, delicious and healthy. It’s a huge Earth Mama no-no to bring sweets... no cupcakes, chocolate, etc. In fact, when students have their birthday celebrations at school, those snacks are supposed to be healthy, too (read: not too sugary). 

Sophia is enamored with mini-muffins, so I finally broke down and bought two mini-muffin pans. The beauty of the mini-muffin, I’ve discovered, is that a single recipe for 12 regular muffins makes 48 minis, perfect for little hands. 

We girls have been experimenting with muffin recipes all year, and, for those of you who bake (I am a super-novice), you’ll relate to our dilemma. Every recipe to date is either too buttery and greasy, but moist, or not buttery enough and dry. Since we had such amazing luck with the Irish-American soda bread recipe from the King Arthur Flour recipe site, I thought I’d give their blueberry muffins a try.

The result: delicious but not too sweet muffins that are moist but not too buttery. Pretty perfect! The main reason they get a four-star rating is because mini-muffins are always a bit dry compared to regular-sized muffins, and because I forgot (as I always do) to sprinkle the tops with cinnamon sugar. Next time we’ll try a bit of turbinado and cinnamon on top, and I bet they’ll be perfect.

Kiddos are having this snack for Earth Day, and I look forward to a report on their reception. Honestly, though, what kid doesn’t like blueberry muffins? Sophia’s also sharing organic carrot sticks, because you have to have something “healthy” with every snack. Seriously, I’m not sure how I did it, but even if she’s having a cookie or a bit of dark chocolate for bedtime snack, she’ll insist on something healthy to accompany it. Not that I mind, but is anyone else’s kid like this? Love it!

Monday, April 20, 2009

Misadventures, or, Cooking for Mom

Why, when you have an eager guest at the table, do things not turn out as you’d hoped? My mom just left today after a weekend visit, and I was so excited for the opportunity to make some of my new favorites for her. Yet, somehow, nothing I made was as I’d hoped, and I ended the weekend elated by my Mom time, but bummed about my culinary (mis)adventures.

First, let me say that my mom is an eager, supportive audience. At no level did I fear criticism or even pickiness. In fact, Mom lived with us last year for six months while she recuperated from a nasty compound ankle fracture. Not once during those six months did I feel paralyzed by her presence at my table. In fact, I found the challenge of cooking for someone on the path to recovery energizing, and successfully experimented much more than I normally would. I think it’s safe to say that my Mom was always appreciative, and left feeling well-nourished and healed.

So, what went wrong? Technically, nothing. However, everything I prepared was the weakest version I’d ever made, and these were all my new favorites: cheese-gilded linguine with smoky tomatoes, homemade pizza, even rustic jam shortbread tart. I need to state, emphatically, that at no point did my mom express anything but pleasure—lots of yums and “love it!” However, I felt that everything fell flat... the pasta was just a bit too salty, the pizza was too saucy and, subsequently, not crispy enough in the center, the tart crust didn’t quite hold together, and I found myself wishing I’d used a different flavor of jam. 

Jam flavors? Why was I worrying about jam flavors? Aside from our six months of cohabitation, which went swimmingly and forever cemented the real love between my husband, Ben, and my Mom, as well as my daughter’s unswerving devotion to her Grandma, I generally see my mom four times a year. Three months is about as long as I can go between visits. Why worry about the food when there was all that good gabbing to do?

I’ve thought about it a lot over the weekend, and what I’ve come to is that this project of recording my experiences in the kitchen has changed my sense of self, at least in part. I see myself differently because of this self-selected focus on cooking, and I wanted things to be just perfect for Mom, probably because she’s the one who taught me to love time spent in the kitchen, to read cookbooks like novels and to focus on fresh, seasonal food.

I don’t think I’ll ever completely understand why things consistently went awry. However, I do know that my culinary confidence is just a tiny bit shaken. This means, I believe, that it’s time to crack open new books, discover new chefs and rebuild my kitchen ego one new adventure at a time.  

Oh, and I’m having my friend Alison for dinner Sunday night. This gives me five days to plan a terrific dinner and another chance to entertain a dear guest. And eat chocolate. And drink wine. And plan the next great meal together.

Friday, April 10, 2009

Black Bean Enchiladas à la The New York Times

Again, big debate on star rating. Ben, Eryc, Sophia and I landed on four stars, but it’s soon to be a five with a few modifications. I got this recipe from the “Recipes for Health” series on The New York Times. It caught my eye because you make your own black beans, which I’ve always wanted to learn to do, then make the enchiladas the next day. While there are several steps to putting this dish together, requiring at least 24 hours of advance planning, no step is very time-consuming and the end result was delicious. In fact, the only reason this wasn’t a five-star recipe right away is because we would all tweak it slightly.

After soaking the beans overnight, I cooked them with onion, garlic, cilantro and salt for a few hours to make a flavorful, thick bean sauce. I finished the simmered black beans in the morning, then put together the enchiladas around 3:30 for 5:00 dinner after dying Easter eggs.

To make the enchiladas, I puréed the beans a bit, them simmered them with some whole cumin seeds and chili powder (used my immersion blender, so puréeing was a breeze). While the beans thickened, I was supposed to soften my corn tortillas in a delicious homemade enchilada sauce of tomato sauce, olive oil, more cumin and more chili powder. Well, my corn tortillas were extremely fresh, probably 30 minutes old and still warm from the neighborhood tortilleria. The first one I put in the simmering sauce disintegrated in about 10 seconds. So, I simply dipped the tortillas in warm sauce on a plate to coat lightly, filled them with black beans and white cheddar and rolled them up.

To finish, I topped them with extra black bean sauce, extra cheese and, strangely, chopped walnuts. These seemed odd, but they were actually delicious and added nice crunch. After baking, I added a bit of chopped cilantro for color and served with slices of fresh avocado, Aunt Jennifer’s homemade salsa (which we’d made the night before... so garlicky good) and Pacificos (thank you, Eryc!).

The enchiladas were delicious, to be sure, but could have been a bit more dynamic. After dinner, as we ate the pieces of the first saucy, disintegrated tortilla, we decided that next time we’d quadruple the sauce recipe and, instead of topping the rolled enchiladas with more beans, we’d pour the extra sauce over the top and then sprinkle with cheese and walnuts. I’m eager to try these changes, because I think the result will be scrumptious. Look for another enchilada post soon.

Thursday, April 9, 2009

Roasted Salmon with Lemon Relish

In a wonderful twist of irony, I’ve been too busy cooking to blog about my cooking! Love it! So, sorry to my few faithful readers who wonder what’s been going on in our kitchen. Now on to the salmon... this is the most delicious, speedy dinner I believe I’ve ever made. Martha estimates 25 minutes to put this dish together, but I would say it only takes about 15. I serve it with couscous, which takes eight minutes tops, making it the perfect healthy and quick dinner. I started this as groceries were being put away after a late-afternoon grocery run and had it on the table within 20 minutes.

While salmon filets are roasting (10 minutes), you zest a lemon and combine it with raisins to soak in boiling water for a few minutes. Drain the zest and raisins and add olive oil, chopped fresh parsley and toasted pine nuts. To serve, simply lay each roasted salmon filet on a bed of organic baby spinach (washed, bagged and ready to use) and top with the relish with couscous on the side. It’s so incredibly flavorful, bright and tart, a perfect accompaniment to the salmon, and the couscous soaks up the extra lemon-y sauce. Delicious, fast and healthy... what more could you ask for? I can’t recommend this enough.

Oh, and this recipe is great for entertaining, because it looks beautiful, comes together in a snap and leaves caloric room for an indulgent dessert. We had angel food cake with organic strawberries and whipped cream! Perfect!

Tuesday, April 7, 2009

Bacon, Broccoli, Roasted Red Bell Pepper & Emmenthaler Crustless Quiche

My first repeat, which I first made on February 24. This evening’s version had leftover bacon (of course) and steamed broccoli, with the new addition of roasted red bell pepper (yum) and Emmenthaler (honestly, because it’s cheaper than Gruyère... note to self: not as flavorful). I made this at 2:00 because everyone was happily sleeping, or at least quiet in his or her room, and it seemed like my best window. Does anyone else make dinner that early? Important survival tactic, I think, if you want homemade dinner every night and are surrounded by needy small people. Made early or on time, still tasty and very satisfying. 

Monday, April 6, 2009

Fettuccine with Smashed Peas, Sausage & Ricotta Cheese

This is our first “tag team” blog entry. I had a massage at 5:00 Monday evening (ahhh!), so I prepped all of the ingredients for Ben to put this dish together, which he managed to do while wrangling a four year old and a three month old... no small feat!

To me, this is a perfect example of a recipe that looks amazing on paper and is ho-hum in reality. Nothing wrong with it, necessarily, except perhaps a lack of cohesion. Ben and I both had problems articulating what was wrong aside from the fact that the flavors never meshed.

We had to laugh, because before this blog project, we would have given this recipe a four or five. Now, our standards seem permanently elevated and a perfectly fine dinner gets an average rating. Kind of puts the pressure on for years to come, no? We’ve decided, also, that we need to standardize the rating system a bit, so look for that in a future post. Can’t live without a rubric! I guess once a teacher, always a teacher.

For the sauce, you sauté garlic and Italian sausage, then add peas and smash them with the back of your spoon or with a potato masher. One note: the recipe calls for hot Italian sausage, but I used Boulder Sausage’s mild Italian sausage in lieu of hot in the interest of Sophia’s and my palates. I’m not convinced that the added heat would have added much to improve the dish.

You then stir in ricotta cheese and chopped fresh basil and some Pecorino Romano and toss with the pasta and some pasta water. Easy enough, and certainly very flavorful. The smashed peas and basil give the pasta a rather lovely springy green color and flavor, and the sausage is yummy in its own right. But, somehow, none of it goes together. Our feeling is that it’s a good basic recipe, but that we might play around a bit with the meat and might add a bit of grated lemon zest to complement the peas and basil. 

Fine, but not too exciting. Of course, it had peas, sausage and basil, three of Sophia’s favorites, so she gave it five stars. We’re saying three. I think we’ll move on to some of Giada’s other offerings another time, but likely won’t return to this, at least as written.

Saturday, April 4, 2009

TKO! Homemade Pizza

No KitchenAid... no Cuisinart... nothing but elbow grease, and we made outstanding homemade pizza! This experience doesn’t push me either direction in terms of whether or not I want a stand mixer, but it certainly makes me feel foolish for eating pizza out or having it delivered for years. Seriously, what was I waiting for?

The recipe for the pizza crust, from the Patricia Wells’ Trattoria cookbook, was recommended to me by my culinary mentor and inspiration, Alison. Not only is she the most accomplished home cook you’ll ever meet, but she’s also been a personal chef and caterer. Dinner and a bottle of wine in her gorgeous kitchen (which they renovated themselves, down to custom-designed, home-built cabinetry) is truly one of life’s greatest pleasures. No restaurant experience can compare.

Until I started this blog, I always thought I was a somewhat lazy, mediocre cook because the benchmark against which I measured myself was Alison. Now I realize that I’m pretty good and log a decent amount of hours in the kitchen, and that she’s amazing and cooks constantly!

This is an overnight dough, which gives the yeast a chance to ferment and the crust more flavor. It was very easy, if not a little dry, and only required five minutes of kneading. Ben and I took turns and made a double batch (which netted enough dough for six 12-inch pizzas), and it was not too tricky. It rises overnight in the fridge, then rolls and stretches out easily. Sophia and I put the pizzas together, so we didn’t try too hard to achieve any kind of symmetry, but they were beautiful in a rustic, amoeba-shaped sort of way. They slid beautifully off the cornmeal-covered pizza peel onto the preheated pizza stone and were perfectly crisp in 10 minutes.

For sauce, I found a recipe from Gourmet magazine on epicurious—you just simmer crushed tomatoes and olive oil for about 20 minutes. Easy as can be and remarkably flavorful. As for toppings, we chose pitted Kalamata olives, fresh mozzarella, fresh basil and a spicy Italian salami, called calabrese, made by Volpi on The Hill in St. Louis. The result was perfect, perfect, perfect! In fact, after just one bite, Sophia turned to me and yelled: “Five stars! Five stars? Definitely five stars!”

We often go to a fabulous local restaurant, Proto’s Pizza, on Friday nights for their happy hour specials on Neapolitan-style pizza. This is no cheesy pizzeria, but high-end thin-crust pizza made with the highest-quality ingredients. There are countless reasons to continue to go there—the affordable happy hour wine, the delicious salads, the big glass window where the kids can stand and watch the pizza guys at work. Not to be too arrogant on my first attempt, but our pizza was just as memorable and satisfying as the pizza at Proto’s, at about an 80% discount! In fact, our most expensive ingredient was the fresh basil, and that problem will be rectified once we’re past our last hard frost and can get some organic basil growing on the back deck.

I froze all of our leftover dough and am going to try thawing some on the counter tomorrow to make another batch tomorrow night. Alison swears by making a quadruple batch (in her KitchenAid Professional 600 stand mixer, of course) and freezing the bulk of it for future dinners. While it takes a bit more advance planning than picking up the phone and ordering in 40 minutes before you want to eat, the result was so superior to any delivery available here, and so affordable, that I think the local pizzerias have lost our business for good!

As a testament to our commitment, the pizza peel, previously relegated to a hook in the storage room, was rehung this morning in a place of prominence on the dining room wall. A sign of more good things to come!  

Thursday, April 2, 2009

Michelle vs. the Stand Mixer, Round One

I would describe myself as frugal. Some in my life would call me downright cheap. I hate to spend money on “stuff” and am sort of anti-technology, but only in weird ways. For example, I love love love this MacBook, but had to be dragged kicking and screaming from my crummy old Dell. Now, I would never go back. I also love my Cuisinart, which was a gift from my mom over ten years ago, and I now consider it an indispensable tool. I expect to put it to daily use soon enough when Joseph’s ready for baby food.

Today, I am grappling with my desire for a high-powered stand mixer versus my disgust at the $350 price tag. How many loaves of bread and pizzas do you have to make before you start to break even? I spent the day researching on the Cook’s Illustrated web site (the Cuisinart 5.5 quart barely beat the KitchenAid Professional 600), reading customer reviews on Amazon and fondling them at Williams-Sonoma. 

End of round one: frugality has won out over my desire for a shiny new kitchen toy. The result? I just spent an hour making homemade pizza dough by hand and am pooped from all of the kneading! And covered in flour. Stay tuned for round two, when I attempt to make homemade artisan bread by hand. If you have a Cuisinart or KitchenAid stand mixer that you love or hate, let me know! Oh, and if the pizza is a disaster, there may be no round two.

Wednesday, April 1, 2009

Chicken Curry with Gentle Spices, Moghlai Spinach with Browned Shallots & Cucumber Mint Raita

Picture me, gently punching myself in the arm with pride à la Anthony Michael Hall in The Breakfast Club. I rarely wow myself in the kitchen, and do it even more rarely after several nights of poor sleep, but tonight’s dinner was impressive, delicious and remarkably easy, considering how many dishes I made. Actually, I should say considering how many dishes we made, because Sophia actually helped to prepare almost all of this meal.

After quickly re-shelving Alice Waters, I went back to The Splendid Table’s How to Eat Supper. I’ve wanted to try their chicken curry since I got the book last year, but was intimidated for no reason other than the fact that it’s curry. The ingredient list isn’t unreasonably long and the recipe doesn’t involve a lot of steps. This week our family is on spring break, so Ben’s been doing most of the hands-on baby stuff while Sophia and I have adventures. This leaves extra time for tackling new recipes, so tackle we did.

For this recipe, you make your own curry paste in the Cuisinart, then sauté it for about 10 minutes before adding whole milk yogurt and reducing it further. I’ve never made curry paste before, and the process was incredibly simple. Just throw in big chunks of onion, garlic, fresh ginger, spices, tomatoes and jalapeño, puree, and you’ve got curry paste!

I was a little worried about how hot it would be as the curry paste sautéed, because the steam wafting above my Le Creuset smelled spicy, mostly of jalapeño. However, the process of really reducing the paste down with yogurt resulted in a curry sauce that was thick and rich with a warm, well-rounded flavor without being hot. Once the sauce had been reduced, I added more yogurt and organic boneless, skinless chicken thighs. The only change I made to the recipe was to add a few cubed, cooked Yukon gold potatoes right at the end. I used slightly less chicken than the recipe called for, and the potatoes stretched the dish quite a bit and were a wonderful vehicle for the curry sauce.

Because the curry doesn’t really have any vegetables in it, I also made Moghlai spinach with browned shallots, from Madhur Jaffrey’s Simple Indian Cookery. Indian is absolutely one of my favorite types of cuisine, particularly in restaurants, but always seems expensive for essentially comfort food. (I have fond memories of watching Sophia devour saag paneer before she was one).

In making this recipe, I omitted the hot dried red chilies and used prewashed baby spinach, significantly cutting down on the labor. The browned shallots and garam masala add so much flavor to the wilted spinach, and four tablespoons of cream at the end make the dish rich without being heavy. A perfect accompaniment.

Lastly, we made cucumber mint raita, also from Simple Indian Cookery. Oddly, I abhor yogurt but love raita. Jaffrey’s raita comes together in less than 10 minutes and provides a nice balance to the medium spice of the curry. All of this was served over fragrant jasmine rice (because I didn’t have basmati on hand).

A last-minute call to Eryc, who was joining us for dinner, and we also got to enjoy an Indian lager called Kingfisher with our meal. I didn’t realize there was such a thing, and certainly not available in Longmont! We must really be coming into our own here.

Everyone (Sophia included) had seconds, and this definitely goes down as my most successful attempt at homemade Indian food. Next time, if I’m feeling extremely brave, we may try to add parathas, a cumin-flavored Indian flatbread.