Springtime Socca

Socca, farinita, torta di ceci, cecina.  I've never been to Nice and I didn't run across this treat in the few days I was in Liguria this past summer, but let me tell you; my recent discovery of these savory chickpea crepes is the perfect base for whipping up a simple spring dinner. A quick search tells me there are a million different variations on socca - paper thin and lacy, pancake-like, chopped soft herbs mixed into the batter, baked or broiled - and there are probably strong opinions from all sides on the proper way to make socca, but I'll take them in any form.  With a slight nutty and bean-y flavor, the savory possibilities for enjoyment are practically endless. [Note: I tried them topped with a bit of nut butter and honey one morning and wasn't totally sold on them in their sweet iteration.]

I've been terrible these past few weeks in shopping the farmer's market with a clear dinner plan for the upcoming days.  Instead I've been scooping all the new spring produce into my arms and cobbling together meal plans on the fly.  Even though it's just San Francisco and the winter "season" isn't all that much to write about, months still pass where all you see are dark leafy greens, piles of citrus and the earth tones of root vegetables, it's hard not to get giddy about spring's new crop of offerings. Pea tendrils! Strawberries! Fava beans! Snap and shelling peas! Radishes! Baby carrots!

Armed with a fridge newly full of vegetables and a bag of Bob's Red Mill chickpea flour, I figured I'd give socca for dinner a go.  The pea shoots were roughly torn, the favas slipped out of their pods, quickly blanched and then popped out of their jackets, avocado was sliced and a handful of pine nuts was toasted.  I made a quick dressing of some very nice balsamic vinegar and walnut oil and the salad was done.  I went with a thicker, more pancake-like version of socca so I could slice it into triangles and put the salad over the top and not need to worry about the sog factor, but stuffing the salad into a thinner crepe would be just as nice.  The only advance planning needed here is to let the socca batter sit for about an hour to let the bean flour absorb the water and make it a nice pourable consistency.  Do this before you shell the favas, toast the pine nuts, and assemble the salad and the timing should work out to where there isn't too much waiting around.

Springtime Socca

There is so much you could do with this recipe - add in a handful of chopped herbs like basil, mint, tarragon or parsley to the socca batter, thinly sliced radishes would be a pretty addition to the salad portion, use shelling peas instead of favas, arugula instead of pea tendrils, and I think some fresh goat cheese dolloped over the top or crumbled feta would really take this to the next level.  Play around.  Try the socca as thicker, sliced pancakes or tuck the salad into a folded over thin crepe

4 servings (either 2 thick socca divided or 4 thinner crepes)

1 cup chickpea flour

1 cup water

1/2 teaspoon salt

1 1/2 tablespoons olive oil, plus more for cooking

8 oz pea tendrils, roughly torn

1 pound fava beans, shelled, blanched and slipped out of their skins

1 avocado, sliced

1/4 cup pinenuts, toasted

1 tablespoon balsamic vinegar

1 tablespoon walnut oil

salt & pepper

2 soft boiled eggs (optional)

In a bowl, mix the chickpea flour, water, salt and olive oil with a whisk until smooth. Set aside for about an hour. If you are adding a handful of chopped herbs, add that in too before whisking.

Wash, dry and gently tear the pea tendrils into manageable salad pieces and put into a bowl.  Remove the favas from their pod and set a small pot of salted water to boil on the stove. [To make the shelling easier, run a Y-shaped vegetable peeler down one of the seam sides of the pod, they should now open easily as you run your finger down and pop the beans out.] Once the water is boiling, blanch the favas for about 2 minutes, or until they all rise to the surface of the water and you can hear a slight hissing sound.  Drain and rinse under cold water to stop the cooking, then pop the beans out of their jackets and into your bowl of pea tendrils.  Toast your pine nuts in a small skillet over medium heat until  golden and slice your avocado.

Heat a small skillet (mine is 8" across) over medium high heat and coat the bottom of the pan with olive oil.  If making a thicker socca, pour half the batter into the pan and cook until the bottom begins to brown, about 3-4 minutes.  Carefully flip it over and cook the other side for another 2-3 minutes until the edges are crispy and both sides are a deep golden in spots.  Remove from pan onto a cutting board and repeat for second half of batter.  Use the same technique for the thinner crepes, using just 1/4 of the batter each time and reduce the cooking time by about a minute per side.  Cut thicker socca into 4 pieces each (2 triangles per plate) or place one of the thinner crepes flat on each plate.

Dress the pea tendrils and fava beans with the balsamic vinegar and walnut oil and season with salt and pepper.  Divide between the 4 plates and top each with some sliced avocado, toasted pine nuts and sliced soft boiled egg if using.  For the thinner crepes, place the salad on one half of socca and fold the other half over after topping the salad.

Mung Bean Dal

I am a compulsive cabinet opener and refrigerator rummager.  When I'm at home and think that I might be getting hungry, or even if I'm not hungry but instead just bored, I will open and close all the food storage places in my kitchen and promptly declare that there is "no food in this house". This is an activity I'll partake in countless times each day.  D does the same, though not quite as frequently. And, embarrassed as I may be to admit this, I'll poke around in pretty much anyone's kitchen if we know each other well enough, except I won't announce there is no food to be had.  I'll instead be delighted at all the new options before me.  It's a bad habit and a waste of energy, but that hasn't stopped me yet.

Now picture this: it's Monday and the weather outside is doing it's very best at being discouraging with rain and hail and thunderstorms. I had played the rummaging game at least five times, and five times convinced myself there was no food in the house, yet there was still dinner to be made.  I could run to the store and get dinner provisions, but that would mean braving the weather and possibly losing my parking spot right out front.  Not into it.  Take out?  Just couldn't get excited about that either. I can be so cheap sometimes. And then - I don't know the exact sequence of events that took place - I must have stumbled across an idea online while moping that made me remember the (huge) stash of Indian pantry items in the often overlooked corner of cabinets which then turned into a brainstorming session and voila!  A mung bean dal with homemade roti was slapped onto the evening's menu.

I won't try and vouch for authenticity here (I mean really, I put kale in the damn thing), and it's not much of a looker, but it makes up for all of that in tasty. Yes, I cut corners; used green onions instead of diced yellow onion, ground ginger and cayenne instead of their fresh counterparts.  Like I said, I really didn't want to leave the house.  I also wasn't following any kind of recipe here.  After a quick search confirmed that mung bean dal was indeed a thing, I just kind of improvised from there.  Except the roti, I used a recipe/tutorial for that.

The dal was earthy from the turmeric and sizzled cumin seeds, and I love the way the mung beans start breaking down after cooking just past the point of doneness and thicken it all up.  A few big handfuls of thinly sliced kale into the mix for virtue and you could hardly ask for more on a rainy evening.

Mung Bean Dal

I'm writing the recipe here not quite as I made it, but with fewer shortcuts than I took, though I don't imagine it'll make a huge difference in the final product.  I tried spooning a dollop of yogurt into the last half of my bowl, but I found it muted the flavors more than I'd like.  However, if you've got it around, a good sprinkle of cilantro right at the end would probably be nice.

4 (smallish) servings

1 cup dried mung beans
4 cups water
1 tablespoon butter
1 tablespoon olive oil
1 teaspoon cumin seeds
1/2 yellow onion, diced
4 cloves garlic, minced
1 teaspoon finely minced or pasted ginger root
1/2 teaspoon cayenne pepper
1 teaspoon turmeric
salt to taste (about 1/2 teaspoon)
2 cups finely sliced dino kale
juice of half a lemon

Sort through the beans to make sure there aren't any stones, then rinse under cold water and drain. In a medium sized pot, add the rinsed mung beans and cover with 4 cups of water.  Bring to a boil and then reduce heat to low and cover, cooking for about 30 minutes, or until they begin to soften and just fall apart.  You may have to check the water level a few times and give it all a stir to keep things from sticking to the bottom of the pan, but just add in enough water to get things moving again and you should be fine.

Once the mung beans are done cooking, in another medium sauté pan (I just transferred the beans to bowl, washed the pot and reused it), melt the butter and olive oil over medium heat.  Add in the cumin seeds and as soon as they start to sizzle add the diced onion and give it a good stir.  Cook until the onion is translucent then add in the garlic and ginger and cook for 1 minute more.  Add turmeric and cayenne and give the whole thing a few good stirs until everything becomes real fragrant then add the mung beans, scraping the bottom of the pan to get all the good bits off.  Add about a 1/2 teaspoon salt and taste to see if it needs more.  At this point, you may want to evaluate the thickness of your dal.  If you want it looser, add a bit more water 1/4 cup at a time, if you want it thicker, simmer it for a few minutes more.  Once you've reached a consistency you like, toss in your kale and squeeze half a lemon's worth of juice into the whole thing and stir to combine.

Serve with roti or naan and maybe a sprinkle of chopped cilantro too.

Over and Over

I am a creature of habit through and through; spontaneity is not my strong suit. I like knowing what my day will be like tomorrow before I go to bed, I make lists, plan and make alternate plans just in case. And when I find a recipe I like, it takes over all the other food ideas I had in my head and I start obsessing about making it over and over and over. It wasn't always this way - it seems to be getting worse as I get older.  Sigh.

My kitchen routine has been a steady repertoire of Ottolenghi and Heidi Swanson recipes as of late and I refuse to apologize for that. Except maybe to the other cookbooks that sit neglected on my shelf and the countless recipe ideas I've pinned with the best of intentions. I'll be back for you.

In the mean time, let's all contemplate this dish from Ottolenghi and Tamimi's Jerusalem. This pasta is absolutely the stuff dreams are made of. I can't decide what I'm more enamored with - using greek yogurt as a base for the sauce or the deeply toasted pine nuts in chile oil or just the name of the pasta shape. Conchiglie. Kohn-KEE-lyeh. I know you just said that out loud a few times. Isn't it a fun word to say?

The seashells are the perfect shape for grabbing onto and enveloping the sweet peas, small chunks of feta and a spicy pine nut or two. A last minute and slow folding in of the yogurt sauce ensures that it doesn't break or curdle and the torn basil adds a perfect and herbaceous aromatic element. By the time this pasta is on your plate it's just this side of warm, which is perfect for a spring evening or an al fresco dinner.  Now I forget what it was that I had decided to make for dinner tonight.

Pasta with Yogurt, Peas, and Chile
Adapted slightly from Jerusalem, by Yotam Ottolenghi and Sami Tamimi

4 servings

I've scaled down this recipe by half and made a few tinkering adjustments here and there and still found that it was plenty for 4 people. You could use another pasta shape like orecchiette or rigatoni, but really, the seashells are more fun.

6 ounces Greek yogurt
1/4 cup olive oil
1 medium clove of garlic, crushed or pressed
1/2 pound frozen peas
Kosher salt
1/2 pound conchiglie
Scant 1/4 cup pine nuts
1 teaspoons Aleppo chile, or red pepper flakes
3/4 cup basil leaves, coarsely torn
4 ounces feta cheese, coarsely crumbled

In the bowl of a food processor, combine the yogurt, 2 tablespoons of the olive oil, the garlic, and 1/3 cup of the peas. Process to a uniform pale green sauce, and transfer to a large mixing bowl.

Bring a large pot of water to a boil, and salt it. Add the pasta, and cook until it is al dente. While the pasta cooks, warm the remaining olive oil in a small frying pan over medium-low heat. Add the pine nuts and chile, and cook for 4 minutes, or until the pine nuts are golden and the oil is deep red.

Put the frozen peas into a colander and pour the hot pasta and water over to drain Shake it well to get rid of excess water that may have settled into the pasta’s crevices. Add the pasta and peas gradually to the yogurt sauce; adding it all at once may cause the yogurt to separate. Add the the basil, feta, and a pinch of kosher salt. Toss gently. Serve immediately, with pine nuts and chile oil spooned over each serving.

It's Been a Journey

It's daunting to sit down again and type.  To think of everything that has happened since my last post, all the excuses I have for abandoning this space, all the food that's been cooked, everything that has changed and all that hasn't.  I think about that, and then I try to figure out how best to re-enter this little world.  I'm drawing a blank.  A big fat blank.

But I check the stats every so often and it seems, however incomprehensibly, there are still those of you who still stumble upon these pages of my past.  I get the occasional nudges from friends or family who'd like to see this blog resurrected - how is it that you haven't given up entirely?  I didn't mean to leave you hanging.

So, let's give this one more go, yeah?

I thought about dredging up some older recipes and just playing a bit of catch up, but that idea poses a few problems.  1) I pretty much stopped taking pictures of what I was making except for a few random Instagram snaps.  I'm not trying to recreate past social media feeds in this space.  2) There's a very high chance that the recipes I really want to tell you about would be seasonally inappropriate at this juncture.  Zucchini noodles in the dead of February?   I wish.  You'll just have to wait.  In the meantime I offer you a compromise.  A new-to-me recipe with an iPhone photo!  (Baby steps, okay.)

Radicchio, and chicories in general, are fast becoming one of my favorite winter ingredients.  They bring a refreshing pop of color when we're buried in a sea of earth tones and deep green at the market.  Their bitterness balances out the hearty, fatty dishes we crave as the temperatures drop.  And if you've never grilled radicchio or escarole before you're truly missing out.  Their sharp bite of bitter softens and new flavors of smoke and caramelized sweetness come out to play.

Here, however, there is just raw and vibrant radicchio.  We want it's natural bite, it's bitterness tamed by creamy cannellini beans, rotisserie chicken and the bright snap of a parsley-lemon vinaigrette.  A few stalks of thinly sliced celery and some scallions for good measure and dinner is served.  It's preparation is simple, but the flavors are not.  It's earthy, but lively.  This is the kind of salad you keep diving your fork into, bite after bite, until there's nothing left on the plate.  This will get you out of your winter rut.

White Bean and Radicchio Salad with Parsley Vinaigrette
adapted from Bon Apetit, April 2012

I used rotisserie chicken because I had some that needed using up but the original recipe calls for a high quality tuna packed in olive oil, either would be great, really.  Whatever you do, don't leave one or the other out, it'll mess up the perfect balance this salad has going on.  Also switched up the vinaigrette to make it a little more acidic and less heavy on the olive oil.

serves 4

1 cup (packed) flat-leaf parsley
3 tablespoons extra virgin olive oil
3 tablespoons fresh lemon juice
1 tablespoon champagne vinegar
1 garlic clove, crushed
salt & pepper


1 medium head of radicchio, cored, leaves coarsely torn
1 15-ounce can cannellini beans, rinsed, drained
2 celery stalks, sliced thinly on an extreme diagonal
1 cup shredded rotisserie chicken
2 scallions, thinly sliced

Vinaigrette:
Pulse parsley, oil, lemon juice, vinegar, and garlic in a blender until well blended. Season to taste with salt and pepper.

Salad:
Place radicchio and celery in a large bowl; drizzle with a few tablespoons parsley vinaigrette and toss to coat. Season radicchio to taste with salt and pepper. Transfer to a serving platter, spreading out in an even layer. Arrange cannellini beans and shredded chicken and sliced scallions on top of the radicchio. Drizzle with a little more vinaigrette if desired.

Devine Eats

I cannot believe that in over two years of posting on this blog I have never posted about this chicken club salad. I'm embarrassed.  Even more so because it's now showing  up in this hastily photographed state.  I had to snap this with my phone before I even finished mixing it all together because I knew the second that it was ready, it would disappear in the blink of an eye.  My apologies for a messy bowl and unevenly distributed dressing.

Chicken club salad is the food of gods. This is not an exaggeration. Right up there with the perfection of a summertime BLT or this lovely dish of Vietnamese noodles, stir fried beef and veggies, this salad has been a favorite from first bite. I've made it for friends and roommates who have in turn made it for their friends or special someones and every last one of those people has proclaimed this "salad" as devine perfection. I can give you references if you don't believe me, or you can just go and make it yourself. Like, right now.

You might think, after taking a quick glance at the ingredient list, that this is merely a salad or panzanella form of a BLT, but in fact it's a whole different beast.  Sure, it has brightly acidic tomatoes, and bacon, and mayonaise and toasted bread but then that mayonaise gets transformed when it's blended with basil and yogurt and lemon juice.  And there are cubes of gently poached chicken and thin rings or green onion dotted throughout.  This is nothing like that classic sandwich.  I'll repeat: this is the food of the gods.

A recent search for the original recipe lead me to a Food Network page saying the contents I was searching for could no longer be found.  Which would really be a shame, except I have here my version, one I've tweaked over the years and I think is even better.  There are more croutons for more crunch!  I use half mayonaise (Best Foods only, please!) and half plain yogurt for the basil dressing and then slather the whole thing over the salad instead of a measly 1/2 cup.  And the bread, use whatever your heart desires as long as it has some structure to it.  One time I used an Italian loaf with lemon zest in it and it was heavenly.

You're welcome.  I single handedly just saved the internet.

Chicken Club Salad
adapted from Sara Moulton

There are several elements to assemble here: poach the chicken, make the croutons, blend up the dressing, fry the bacon and cut up the veggies, but all of this can be done in advance if need be. Store the croutons in an air tight container, the veggies, dressing and chicken separately in the fridge but the bacon is probably best freshly crisped up. About 10 minutes before serving toss everything together in a big bowl and you're good to go.

6 to 8 servings

6 cups of 3/4-inch cubes day old country loaf
3 tablespoons olive oil
6 slices bacon, chopped
3 pounds whole chicken breasts OR 1½ pounds boneless/skinless breast, poached and the meat cut into bite-size pieces
1 pint cherry tomatoes, quartered
4 scallions including the green part, sliced thinly
Quick Basil Mayonnaise, recipe follows
Salt and pepper

Quick Basil Mayonnaise:
2 cups loosely packed fresh basil leaves
½ cup mayonnaise

½ cup plain yogurt 

4 teaspoons fresh lemon juice
salt and pepper

In a food processor or blender blend together the basil, mayonnaise, yogurt and lemon juice. Season with salt and pepper.  Refrigerate until ready to use.

Preheat oven to 350 degrees F.

In a bowl drizzle the bread cubes with the olive oil, tossing them to coat evenly, and season generously with salt and pepper. Spread the bread cubes in a jelly-roll pan (or cookie sheet) and toast them in the middle of the preheated oven for 10 to 15 minutes, until they are golden.  Let them cool. 

In a skillet cook the bacon over moderate heat, stirring, until it is crisp and transfer it with a slotted spoon to paper towels to drain. 

In a large bowl combine the chicken, tomatoes, scallions, bacon, quick basil mayonnaise, and salt and pepper to taste. Just before serving, mix in croutons and let sit 5-10 minutes.

Of Summertime Spritzers

This past week has been a "please, get this girl a cocktail" kind of a week.  

A Sunday afternoon, people watching in the park and soaking in the warm sunshine totally calls for a cocktail.  Or at least a beer or some wine.

Stressing myself out planning my Fall semester and realizing that my free time, my precious commitment-free, care-free, free time is about to come to a screeching halt?  Please, get this girl a cocktail, hopefully it will take the edge off.

A gathering of good friends, reunited after what feels like way too long?  Let's celebrate and drink a cocktail!

Realizing that I only have about 10 more days of summer break left?  You know the drill.  Fetch that cocktail.

This particular cocktail was dreamed up on a whim as I stood in my kitchen, refrigerator door open, trying to figure out the fate of the latest batch of foraged blackberries.  (They're still going strong, those urban blackberry bushes, and I still cannot resist the little hike and filling another tupperware full of sun warmed fruit.)  In the crisper draw just below them was a big bunch of basil and on the counter were a few lemons.  You know, when life gives you lemons and all that...

It's tart and fruity but neither overwhelmingly so.  The herbaceous licorice notes from the basil make it a bit more sophisticated, a grown up lemonade.  Fizzed up with a bit of club soda and poured over some ice and sparkling wine, this spritzer is just what my week, and weekend needs.

Blackberry-Basil Lemonade

This is just the lemonade portion of the aforementioned cocktail. I trust you guys can mix it up to your liking.  I've really been digging the spritzers lately so I mixed mine up with 2 parts sparkling wine to 1 1/2 parts lemonade and topped it off with a splash of club soda.  Refreshing, low alcohol, and perfect for afternoon sipping.  It's also totally delicious just on it's own.

yields 4 1/2 cups

juice of 3 lemons

1/4 cup sugar

10-12 basil leaves

1/2 cup fresh blackberries

4 cups water (or 3 cups water and 1 cup club soda)

In a blender add lemon juice, sugar, basil leaves, blackberries and 1 cup of water.  Blend for 1 minute, or until the sugar has dissolved.  Strain through a fine mesh sieve to remove the seeds and pieces of basil leaves.  Add remaining water to strained mixture and refrigerate until chilled.  If you're going the sparkling route, add the rest of the water, chill, then add the club soda just before serving.

...Take Me Away

I've never had much of the traveling itch.  I rarely feel the need to get away, somewhere far away, and  discover something new.  Experience life differently.  In the past I've been quite content with mini domestic explorations and weekend road trips.  I felt grounded and rooted and wholly connected to my time and place.  But then something changed.  Maybe it's all the fog and cool summer days or the realization that after a year of living in this city, it'll never be my city.  Maybe my jam packed busy schedule for the upcoming fall semester is factoring in too.  Either way, a little late to the game, I'm ready to pack a bag or two and fly off to far away lands.

But summer comes to a close in 2 weeks and my student loans for the year have yet to come through so here in the city I'll remain, traveling by way of cooking and daydreaming; planning for a next big adventure.  And all that is okay really, because that just means something exciting will be waiting just over the horizon.

There are bowls like this Vietnamese rice noodle and stir fried beef salad to transport me and tide me over.  A salad so perfectly summer, so perfectly balanced that I can hardly find fault with it.  A tangled   base of translucent noodles mounded so high with tender beef and colorful crisp vegetables that I didn't leave us enough room to mix in the nuoc cham dressing.  Bowls filled all the way to the tippy top with eyes much larger than our stomachs.

I love all the elements and flavors that Vietnamese cuisine is based on.  Fresh vegetables garnishing so many dishes, a medley of herbs that not only work in taste but make for wonderful aromatics as well.  Salty fish sauce and acidic lime juice, balanced with a little raw sugar and a spicy heat, perfection.  A little marinated and (in this case) tender beef boost the savory quotient and I'm one happy eater.

And someday, instead of just eating, I'll be the one sitting on the beaches of Southeast Asia, satisfying that itch.

Bun Bo Xao

adapted from Use Real Butter

This recipe is mostly prep work, but once that's all done, the actual noodle salads are a cinch to assemble.  Just pile the ingredients on top of the noodles, splash a little of the nuoc cham dressing and give it all a good toss.  Every ingredient plays a key roll in the overall flavor, so really, the prep work all becomes worth it.  You'll totally understand once you take your first bite.

4-6 servings

1 stem lemongrass (the tender white part), minced
1 lb. steak (I used ribeye), sliced thin against the grain and at an angle
2 cloves fresh garlic, minced
2 tablespoons + 1 teaspoon fish sauce

1 small white onion, sliced
2 tablespoons vegetable oil

1 package vermicelli noodles/rice sticks, cooked
2 cups bean sprouts
2 Persian cucumbers, halved and sliced
a handful of mint leaves

a handful of cilantro leaves
pickled daikon and carrots
chopped salted & roasted peanuts

nuoc cham (dressing):
juice from 2 limes
2 tablespoons brown sugar
3 tablespoons fish sauce

1/4 cup water
4 cloves garlic, minced
sambal olek paste to taste

Whisk together all the nuoc cham ingredients until sugar is dissolved. Set aside.

Follow the instructions on the rice noodle package. If there aren’t any, place the noodles in a large pot of boiling water and let boil for 5 minutes. Turn off the heat and cover the pot for 3 minutes. Drain the noodles and rinse in cold water.

To make the bun bo xao: Mix 2 teaspoons of the lemongrass (reserve the rest for later) with the beef, the garlic, and 2 tablespoons of fish sauce. Set it aside and let it marinade for 20 minutes. 

Gather your serving bowls and place a large handful of rice noodles in each bowl. Sprinkle a handful of bean sprouts and some cucumber slices over the noodles. Roll the herbs together and give them a good chopping. Sprinkle some over each bowl. Set aside. 

Heat a wok or frying pan on your highest heat setting. Add the vegetable oil, the rest of the lemongrass and the sliced onion. Stir the contents around the pan and toss the beef in, from here it should only take 2 or 3 minutes for the meat to cook through.  Add the remaining teaspoon of fish sauce and give everything in the pan a good stir. Place a scoop of the beef on each noodle salad. Dress with more herbs, Vietnamese pickled carrots and daikon, chopped peanuts and nuoc cham.

Grown-up Tastes

I'm sorry.  I've been holding out on you.  I should have given you this pizza recipe more than a week ago, but I've been selfishly clinging onto it and not sharing.  Let me assure you though, this is totally worth waiting for.

Like the chicken satay and the corn, zucchini and feta pizza before it, I have a thing for interesting and homemade pizzas.  I'm not much of a delivery girl (I don't think I've ever ordered and had a pizza delivered, come to think of it), or snag a cheap slice in the afternoon or after the bar kind of girl either.  Back in elementary school I did join Pizza Hut's Book It! reading club allowing me to pester my parents to take me to get my free personal pan pizza once I fulfilled the quota.  A program that I was quite enthusiastic about owing mostly to the fact that I already read books like crazy and getting Pizza Hut was a novelty.  We were a strictly Boboli household - with the occasional BBQ chicken thrown in from Pizza Nova.

These days I prefer to get my hands in there and make the whole thing myself.  Stretching and pulling the crust out thin, heating my oven to its absolute maximum temperature, arranging the toppings and not too much cheese - and please! hold the pizza sauce - to make my own perfect pies.  I will gladly trade the convenience of delivery for the extra time in my kitchen, no problem.

This roasted cauliflower pizza, topped with colorful chilies and green olive tapenade was heavenly.  The nutty cauliflower bits melted together with the mild fresh mozzarella, the Fresno and Anaheim chilies punching up the spice factor, the colors here alone are almost enough.  But then you dollop little spoonfuls of green olive tapenade all over just as you take it out of the oven, making briny little pools as it softens in the heat, and that's when you've truly reached perfection and balance.

Pizza with Roasted Cauliflower, Chiles & Green Olive Tapenade
Adapted from TasteFood

There are many shortcuts you can take with this pizza, and as long as you're buying good quality stuff, the final product will not suffer. I used Whole Foods multigrain pizza dough and really enjoyed it's flavor, although I couldn't get it as thin as I would have liked. You can also use a jarred green olive tapenade, or whip one up yourself with olives, olive oil, garlic, lemon zest, anchovies and a pinch of red pepper flakes.

4-6 servings

1 pound ball of pizza dough
olive oil
8 oz fresh mozzarella, shredded or torn into small chunks
2 cups chopped cauliflower florets from 1 small head
2 Fresno chiles, sliced into rings
1 Anaheim/California chile, sliced into rings
1/2 cup green olive tapenade

Preheat oven to 450F.  If you have a pizza stone, put it in while the oven is cold.

On a piece of parchment paper, roll out dough to desired thickness.  Sometimes it comes out a circle, sometime a rectangle.  Sometimes it's just a wonky shape, dosen't matter.  Just roll, toss, stretch that dough until it's the thickness you like (I personally prefer a thinner crust).

Brush dough with a bit of olive oil.  Scatter the shredded/torn mozzarella over the whole thing, leaving a 1/2 inch border along the edges.  In a bowl toss the chopped cauliflower and chile rings with about 1 tablespoon of olive oil and then scatter the whole mixture over the cheese.

Transfer the pizza on the parchment paper to the pizza stone (or just onto a cookie sheet and then into the oven), and bake for 15-20 minutes, until the cheese bubbles and the crust turns a nice golden brown.  As soon as you take it out of the oven, spoon little dollops of the green olive tapenade all over and let it sit for 5 minutes.  Slice and serve.

Summer Romance

It's funny how you fall in love with a season all over again, year after year.  Never has it been the case that I didn't love summer, (I'm a Leo after all, ruled by the sun) but somehow in the interceding months of the year, that little bit slips to the back of my brain and becomes more a faded memory than a sensory feeling.  But oh!  When the sun does come out, and the earth heats up and the air changes just so, it all comes rushing back.

We've been going to the farmer's market every Saturday morning for the past month, and you can see the signs of summer creeping in at every stall.  The bushes of little green berries in the park just up the hill from us have finally exploded into a mess of juicy, deep purple blackberries.  And if hope helps at all, these foggy mornings will more quickly turn into warm sunny days.

It's a new version of summer I'm adjusting to here in San Francisco, but it's still my favorite season.

This pan-seared salmon is part of that redefining.  Previously, it might have been a grilled version, with black markings from the grates and a subtle smokey flavor, but we no longer have a grill and most evenings are so thick with fog I'd hardly want to stand outside long enough for the fish to cook.  A nice and hot cast iron skillet followed by a brief trip into the oven is the new grill.  I love the textures this recipe results in.  The crisp bottom of the fish from a heavy skillet and high heat, the interior kept moist and tender from a slathering of mustard and finally the crumbly, herby topping.

I've been using an herbs de Provence spice blend in just about everything lately (so good on grilled vegetables with a little olive oil and balsamic!), so that's what I used here and I thought it went perfectly with the dijon mustard and salty kick of freshly grated parmesan.  Paired with lightly steamed tender green beans and the first of the season's tiny yellow tomatoes, it all felt very French countryside.

Mustard and Panko-Crusted Salmon


This dish is simple and perfect for just two. I used skin-on salmon fillets, which helped keep the salmon itself from sticking to the pan, but next time I think I'd prefer it without. The parts that did come into direct contact with the super hot pan and crisped up were my favorite bits. And in the spirit of summer, you could easily sub out the dried herb blend for a teaspoon of fresh thyme or tarragon, whatever sounds best to you.

2 servings

2 salmon fillets, about 6 oz. each
1 tablespoon dijon mustard
salt and pepper
1/3 cup panko crumbs
1/2 teaspoon herbs de provence
1 tablespoon freshly grated parmesan
1 tablespoon olive oil, plus more for pan

Preheat oven to 425F.

Pat salmon fillets dry, season with salt and pepper and set aside.

In a shallow bowl, or small plate, mix the panko crumbs, herbs de provence and parmesan cheese and season with a little more salt and pepper.  Drizzle 1 tablespoon olive oil over the whole thing and mix to distribute.  The panko crumbs should stick together slightly.

Heat enough olive oil to coat the bottom of a heavy, oven-proof skillet over medium high heat for 2 minutes, being careful not to let it smoke.

Divide the mustard between the 2 fillets and spread around to cover top.  Press the panko mixture into the mustard and on top of the salmon and then carefully transfer to preheated skillet.  Cook for 4 minutes to get the bottom crispy and then immediately transfer to the oven to finish cooking for 10-13 minutes more, depending on the thickness of your fillets.

Neighborhood Foraging

There are these trees that line the street around my apartment; in people's yards, in sidewalk planters and even across the way in the rec center's space.  The leaves on these trees are a gorgeous deep shade of burgundy until early winter when they all drop to the ground, leaving behind these dainty skeleton branches to stand bare for a few months.  But come February and March, the branches explode in soft pink blossoms, fluffy clouds of flowers, until finally the foliage comes backs to start the cycle all over again.  They really are beautiful trees.  And up until last week, I had no idea that they were cherry plum trees.

I had never even heard of a cherry plum until earlier this month when a co-worker showed me a bag full of them, having just spent the afternoon picking them off the two tress in his yard.  Then on a little neighborhood walk last weekend, as D and I passed the trees right out in front of our building, I noticed what looked like a bunch of smashed cherries on the ground.  And it was the same scene under the next two tress.  Either someone has been routinely dropping bags of cherries onto the sidewalk, or else these were cherry plum trees.

The fruits are just how you would imagine a cherry plum to be.  They're about the same size as a cherry, but more round like a plum and have a sweet flesh with tart skin and a pit in the center.  You can find me out front now, scouting for the fruit and pulling them from the reachable branches.  I like to call it urban foraging.  And just up the hill from us is a little park just covered in blackberry bushes.  You can bet I'll be foraging there as soon as the little green berries turn a deep purple and finally turn sweet.

Until then, the markets are abundant with summer berries (spotted this Saturday: olallieberries), just begging me to take them home.  I love a good berry-based dessert when the weather is warming up, and I really love a berry cobbler.  The way the berries soften and release their juice, the crisp top and edges right after you take it out of the oven, the ice cream just beginning to melt into the whole mess because it's best served still warm that very same day.  This recipe isn't a cobbler in a traditional sense, it's not a biscuity topping dolloped over a mess of fruit and sugar, but more of a cake/cobbler hybrid.  The fruit gets scattered across the batter and topped with sugar to create a delicate thin crust when it's done baking.  And did I mention the cardamom in the batter?  It adds this exotic, perfume-like quality that I find totally irresistible, and just a hint unexpected.

Blackberry and Cardamom Cobbler
Adapted from The Pioneer Woman

This is probably not what you'd typically classify as a cobbler, but it's delicious all the same. A little bit cake, a little bit cobbler and a perfect vehicle for those summertime berries that are becoming so abundant. I especially like the way the cardamom played with the mostly sweet, barely tart berries, adding an exotic and perfume-like quality, but if cardamom isn't your thing, you can certainly leave it out. You can also double this recipe and bake it in a pie dish if you're feeding more than just a few people.

4-6 servings


3 tablespoons butter, melted
1/2 cup all purpose flour
3/4 teaspoon baking soda
1/4 teaspoon salt
1/4 teaspoon freshly ground cardamom
scant 1/2 cup sugar, plus 1 heaping tablespoon
1/2 cup milk
6 oz. fresh blackberries
vanilla ice cream, for serving

Preheat oven to 350F.  Butter a small baking dish.

Melt butter in a small dish in the microwave, set aside to cool a bit.

In a bowl, whisk together flour, baking soda, salt, cardamom and scant 1/2 cup sugar.  Slowly pour in milk and whisk until just combined.  Add melted butter and whisk again just until butter disappears into batter.  Pour into prepared baking dish and evenly distribute the blackberries over the entire surface.  Sprinkle the remaining heaping tablespoon sugar over the top.

Bake for 50 minutes or until the top is golden and the edges crisp.  Serve warm or room temperature with a scoop of vanilla ice cream.

By Way of the Tropics

Ever since I started working at the restaurant, an increasing number of the meals I make at home have been vegan.  Not intentionally, I never really sat down and made that conscious decision, but it's the truth.  First there was the sautee of corn, greens, red onion and zucchini doused in lime juice and Louisiana hot sauce that was so good/easy that I made it at least four times in about twice as many days.  Then there was a lentil and vegetable curry that only reminded me how lacking my curry skills are, but was tasty none the less.  And now?  Now there is this Caribbean delight of coconut scented rice, black beans and fried plantains, accented with a bit mango salsa.

I could eat this. Every. Single. Day.  The slightly crisp skin the ripe plantains get from a light pan fry, their sweet creamy interiors balanced so perfectly with a sprinkle of salt.  The coconut scented rice and spicy mango salsa sending your thoughts immediately to tropical beaches and vacations and fancy drinks that come garnished with umbrellas.  And if you ask me, you can never go wrong with a fresh pot of black beans along with some avocado.  What's even better?  You can probably whip this whole thing up for under $5.

Not only am I all about tasty food, I'm also all about being thrifty.

As perfect as I found this to be - I mean it.  Totally swoon-worthy.  New summertime staple. - there is so much you can play around with here.  You can use any type of long-grain rice, even consider tossing in a handful of shaved coconut while the rice cooks.  Use peaches or nectarines or pineapple in place of the mango.  If you're feeling brave, use a bit of habanero instead of the serrano chili.  Just be sure to cook up your own pot of beans, canned just doesn't begin to compare, and use the ripest plantains you can find.

Coconut Rice, Black Beans and Plantains
Adapted from Herbivoracious

Take the extra time and cook up a pot of black beans instead of buying the canned ones. And don't forget the epazote, they make the beans just that much more magical. Every element of this dish is fantastic on its own, but together they're out of this world. You can substitute any long grain rice here; plain, jasmine, basmati and light coconut milk works too. The Manila mango is great for its creamy firm texture without any of those nasty fibers, but if mango fibers aren't an issue for you, go ahead and use whatever variety smells fragrant and sweet. Also, be sure to select plantains that have a significant amount of black spots, these ones are sweeter and better for a quick pan fry.

4 servings

Beans:
1 cup dried black beans
1 large sprig epazote
1/2 small onion, finely diced
salt

Mango Salsa:
1 Manila mango, cut into small cubes
1/2 - 1 serrano chili, minced (depending on how much heat you'd like)
1/3 cup red onion, finely diced
a handful cilantro, chopped
1 clove garlic, minced
salt
1/2 lime, juiced

Coconut Rice:
1 cup basmati rice
1 cup coconut milk
1 cup water

2 plantains (about 1 pound), peeled and cut into 1/4" thick coins
2 tablespoons vegetable oil
avocado, sliced, for topping

For the beans:  Cover beans by about 3 inches with cool water and let soak overnight.  The next day, drain liquid and place beans in a medium pot.  Add the sprig of epazote and diced onion and cover with about 2 1/2 cups water.  Bring to a boil over medium heat then reduce to a simmer and cook, partially covered for 1 hour, adding water as necessary to keep the beans submerged.  After an hour, beans should be soft and creamy, but still hold their shape and there should still be some pot liquer.  Remove epazote and season with about a 1/2 teaspoon of salt.

For the rice:  In a fine mesh strainer, rinse the basmati rice 2 or 3 times in cool water, then drain well.  Put in a pot and cover with 1 cup of coconut milk and 1 cup of water.  Bring to a boil, then reduce heat to the lowest setting, cover and cook for 20 minutes.  Remove from heat and let stand, still covered, for another 10 minutes.

For the salsa: add all the chopped ingredients to a bowl, season with salt and lime juice.  Puree half of the salsa in a blender or food processor until you reach a thick but slightly chunky texture.  Mix back into the remaining salsa and set aside.

Just before serving, peel and slice plantains.  In a large skillet (I used nonstick) over medium heat, add 2 tablespoons of vegetable oil.  Lay plantain slices in a single layer and cook until golden brown, about 4 minutes, then flip and cook the other side for 3 minutes more, sprinkle with kosher salt.  Serve with the coconut rice, black beans, a big spoonful of the mango salsa and sliced avocado.

Wrap It Up

It's not all salads and health food around here.  Sometimes it's the weekend, and the weather is perfect and this picture you saw of soft pretzel wrapped hot dogs just won't get out of your head.  They're the summertime version of pigs-in-a-blanket., practically begging you to make them and re-live some childhood memories.  Everything I needed, I already had.  No excuses.

This is the second time I've worked with pretzel dough, and I must say that it's a breeze to handle.  It dosen't stick to every surface, you can shape it with ease and would you look at that beautiful shiny, golden crust?  Sure, the dough itself is on the stiff side and not the easiest to knead by hand (no Kitchen-Aid here), but that's hardly worth complaining about.  It's only 5 minutes of manhandling, pushing, folding and rotating, which you can just pass off as a mini arm workout, how convenient!

What follows seems like a tedious series of steps for something you're only going to wrap around a hot dog - shape dough into ropes, wrap, boil, brush with egg wash and top with coarse salt - but in total only takes about 15 minutes to execute and so worth it.  I mean, I'm not really even into hot dogs, but I loved these pretzel dogs.  Soft, chewy pretzel outside, steamed from the inside by that salty, savory dog and then slathered in a spicy mustard.  Yes, I could have eaten two.  The brown mustard mixed with a bit of Sriracha was an extra nice touch.  I see these becoming my summer BBQ staple.

Joy's post suggests making these and serving them with cold beer and enjoying them with friends and I heartily agree.  It was a lovely, warm, Sunday evening indeed.

Mini Pretzel Dogs
Adapted from Joy the Baker

Had I not used Nathan's dinner franks (which are larger than your average dog) for this recipe, I could have fully wrapped these in soft pretzel goodness, mummy-style. But Nathan's is what I had in the freezer, so it's what I used. Be classy, get a good brand of hot dogs or veggie dogs, you can't really bury these in toppings.

makes 8 mini dogs

3/4 cups warm water (between 110F and 115F)
1 1/2 teaspoons granulated sugar
1 teaspoon active dry yeast
11 ounces all-purpose flour (about 2 1/4 cups)
1 teaspoon salt
1 tablespoon butter, melted and cooled
2 quarts of water
1/3 cup baking soda
1 large egg, beaten, with a splash of water
sea salt, for topping

4 Nathan's Dinner Franks, cut in half

mustard for dipping


In a bowl, combine warm water and sugar. Sprinkle the yeast on top of the water and set aside for 5 minutes. The mixture will begin to foam and froth. If it doesn’t, throw the mixture away and start again with new yeast.

Once the yeast and water is frothy, add the flour, salt, and melted butter. Using a wooden spoon, stir until well combined and the dough pulls away from the side of the bowl. Turn out onto a lightly floured surface and knead for 5 minutes, or until the dough is smooth and elastic. It should be soft, pliable, and just a bit sticky.

Coat a bowl with a bit of vegetable oil. Place the dough in the bowl, sprinkle with flour, cover with plastic wrap, and store in a warm place to rise. Allow dough to rise, until doubled in size, about 90 minutes.

Place a baking rack in the center of the oven. Preheat oven to 425F.  Lightly brush a baking sheet with oil and set aside.

Combine water and baking soda in a large pan (5 quart is fine) and bring to a boil.

While the water comes to a boil, turn the dough out onto a clean, dry surface. Divide dough into 8 pieces. Working with one piece at a time and leaving the remaining covered in the bowl, start with the fingers of both hands in the center of the dough, and roll, moving your hands outward as you roll. Roll the dough along the surface until you have about a 12 to 15-inch piece of rope. Wrap pretzel around a hot dog, making sure to pinch and seal the ends.  Set on a plate and cover with a damp paper towel.

When water has come to a boil, gently lower a few pretzel dogs into the boiling water. Boil for 30 seconds. Remove carefully, using a flat, slotted spatula. Place on prepared baking sheet. Brush boiled pretzels with beaten egg, and top with coarse sea salt (or sesame or poppy seeds).

Bake until deeply golden brown, about 12 to 14 minutes. Transfer to a cooling rack for a few minutes before serving warm.  They'll be best the day they are made.

Lebanese Dreams

I'll be honest.  I really just made these falafels as an excuse to showcase and devour more of a big batch of pickled turnips I made.  Bright magenta and oh-so-snappy, I love Lebanese pickled turnips.

Dont even turn your nose up at the idea of pickled turnips, they are crazy good and resemble their cooked and/or raw counterparts in almost no way.  I know, because after this past winter, me and turnips are no longer on speaking terms.  It started out nice, I would roast them with our dinner and D and I would happily munch away, proclaiming not to understand people's strong distaste for the vegetable.  But week after week, a giant bag of them tucked into every single veggie box, I've come to understand.  Turnips, I am so over you.

Still, I am not one to just waste food and there was one last bag of snowy white orbs lingering in my crisper drawer.  And then I saw the big bunch of beets next to them.  Inspiration struck; I would make pickles.  Their zippy crunch is the perfect counterpart to a falafel sandwich slathered in a garlicy yogurt-tahini sauce and tucked into plenty of lettuce, tomatoes and cucumber.

Did you know that falafels are made from chickpeas that have only been soaked and not cooked? Me neither. I was even a bit skeptical of the whole idea, but decided to push forward after recipe upon recipe yielded the same instructions - to soak the beans for 24 hours and not cook them before frying. After their day long soak, the beans are just soft enough to process into a crumbly puree along with an onion, a big handful of fresh parsley leaves and some other spices, without becoming a soggy mush. A little hot oil in a heavy skillet and a few minutes to cook on each side and you've got some mighty fine falafels.

Since the only cooking time the beans ever see in a quick fry in oil, you can expect a whole different flavor and texture experience.  The insides are moist but crumble just enough and you get a more pronounced starchy bean flavor rather than fully cooked chickpea's typical sweet and creamy taste.  There's a great supporting cast of spices and a bit of heat from cayenne pepper that recall memories of the falafels served at a Lebanese deli just down the street from where I grew up.  Mark Bittman, who this recipe is from, cautions that you'll need a food processor or a heavy duty blender to get the job done, but my wimpy blender prevailed once again and turned out excellent falafel mix in two batches.

I'm only sorry I didn't double the recipe so I could freeze them and have more on hand for when my next pickled turnip craving hits.

Falafel Sandwiches
Adapted from Mark Bittman

As comfortable as I am in the kitchen, I'm still not comfortable with the idea of deep frying, so I more or less pan fried these falafels after shaping them into little patties.  They still got a nice crispy crust on them and held their shape well, so I'd call it successful tweak to the original recipe.  I didn't change much else, but might suggest one more clove of garlic and a bit more salt.

6 to 8 servings

falafels:
1 3/4 cup dried chickpeas
2 large cloves garlic, lightly crushed
1 small onion, quartered
1 teaspoon ground coriander
1 tablespoon ground cumin
1 scant teaspoon cayenne
1 cup chopped parsley or cilantro leaves
1 teaspoon salt
1/2 teaspoon black pepper
1/2 teaspoon baking soda
1 tablespoon lemon juice
Neutral oil, like grapeseed or corn, for frying

sandwich:
whole wheat pita or flatbread

cucumber

tomato

lettuce

pickled turnips

tahini sauce (equal parts plain yogurt and tahini, seasoned with pressed/grated/minced garlic, salt, and lemon juice, thin with water to reach desired consistency.)


Put beans in a large bowl and cover with water by 3 or 4 inches; they will triple in volume. Soak for 24 hours, adding water if needed to keep beans submerged.

Drain beans well (reserving a bit of the soaking water) and transfer to a food processor. Add remaining ingredients except oil; pulse until finely minced, just shy of puréed, scraping sides of bowl down; add soaking water if necessary to allow machine to do its work, but no more than 1 or 2 tablespoons. Keep pulsing until mixture comes together. Taste, adding salt, pepper, cayenne or lemon juice to taste.

Put oil in a heavy skillet, like cast iron, to a depth of about 1/4 inch.  The narrower the saucepan the less oil you need, but the more oil you use the more patties you can cook at a time. Turn heat to medium-high and heat oil to about 350 degrees (a pinch of batter will sizzle immediately). Scoop a heaping tablespoon of batter into your hands and shape into a small patty about 2-3 inches in diameter. Fry in batches, without crowding, until nicely browned, about 4 minutes per side.

Assemble each sandwich with two patties and your choice of toppings.

Salad Days

Dear reader, it's been a while, I know.  

You see there were big projects due (business proposals for school! student elections to run in! peer educator positions to apply for!), and then finals to take and the semester to finish promptly followed by a few days where I just sat my butt down on the couch and watched TV for hours.  I really needed to relax and recharge.  Then it was family time with my brother and sister road tripping up here from San Diego and playing tourist with me for a week in the city. In the meantime I also sent out some resumes, applied to a few jobs, interviewed for one job and TOTALLY NAILED IT.  Yup, this girl now has a job.  A job at a pretty fantastic restaurant in the neighborhood (hello, walking to work) that I'm really stoked on.

May was busy, busy indeed.

And I don't imagine this summer is going to be lazy, either.  Luckily, summertime is salad time and salads like this one will probably make frequent appearances in our fridge.  It's great because all the elements can be assembled ahead of time and then just tossed into a bowl when hunger strikes.  I'll be working 3 nights a week and D will most likely be putting in long hours at the lab, so dinners with a minimal fuss-factor are ideal.

My mom's been making a version of sesame peanut noodles from Martha Stewart for years now - which I love - but the added cabbage slaw and poached chicken in this version make it feel more like a meal.  I love the crunch from the lime-y cabbage and radish slaw (no really, go wild with the lime juice) against the creamy noodles and the super succulent poached chicken helps stretch the dish a bit further.  It packs well for lunches, can feed several people if you're bringing it to a potluck and makes a great make ahead meal to be kept in the fridge for a few days.  Topped with squeeze of extra lime and Sriracha, I'd say you've got a winner on your hands.

Peanut Noodle Salad with Chicken and Cabbage Slaw

Adapted from Serious Eats

I tinkered with this one to really maximize some flavors and tailor the serving sizes a bit.  I used whole wheat spaghetti simply because I didn't feel like making a special trip for soba noodles, but by all means, if you've got, use it.  I also added some aromatics to the poaching liquid for the chicken to infuse a bit of flavor there.  Otherwise, get that cabbage slaw dressed with plenty of lime and salt and pepper and you'll be on your way to greatness.  If you're vegetarian, or vegan or just feel like going meatless, I think this dish would still be wonderful without the chicken.

4 servings

1 pound boneless, skinless chicken breasts
2 large cloves garlic, divided

2 inch piece of fresh ginger, divided in 2

1/4 cup creamy peanut butter
3 tablespoons soy sauce
1 tablespoon rice vinegar
1 teaspoon (or more to taste) Sriracha
2 teaspoons toasted sesame oil
1 pound Savoy cabbage, shredded
3/4 cup radishes, thinly sliced
3/4 cup coarsely chopped fresh cilantro leaves
2 1/2 tablespoons olive oil
2 tablespoons lime juice
1/2 pound whole wheat spaghetti (or soba noodles)
3 large scallions, julienned

Thinly slice a 1-inch segment of the ginger and 1 large clove of garlic into a saucepan of well salted water.  Bring to boil. Add the chicken breasts to the pot, bring to a simmer, and cook for 6 minutes. Cover, turn off the heat, and allow to slowly poach until the chicken is cooked through, about 15 minutes more. Remove chicken, allow to cool, and thinly slice or shred into pieces.

In the meantime, grate the remaining ginger piece and clove of garlic over a microplane.  Combine with the peanut butter, soy sauce, rice vinegar, chile sauce and half the sesame oil in a bowl and whisk until smooth. Add a 1/4 cup water to achieve a looser texture for coating noodles.  If more is needed add 1 tablespoon at a time.  The final sauce should coat the back of a spoon, but not be thick and sticky.

In a large bowl, toss together the cabbage, radishes, most of the cilantro, the olive oil, lime juice and the remaining sesame oil. Season to taste with salt and pepper.

Cook the noodles in abundant water until just al dente, then drain and rinse to remove excess starch. Dress with the peanut sauce.  Top the noodles with the cabbage salad, the remaining cilantro, the scallions, and the sliced chicken. Serve with more lime wedges if desired.

Tart and Sweet

There was no way that these lime bars weren't going to be perfection.  A graham cracker crust studded with bright green pistachios and lime zest?  A simple custard-like filling made with just sweetened condensed milk, lime juice and 2 egg yolks?  I mean have you ever just dipped a spoon into a can of sweetened condensed milk?  It's so dreamy.  These bars are so dreamy.

I have this vision that these would make a nice dainty dessert to serve after a weekend brunch or a leisurely afternoon tea.  Instead of  baking in a 8-inch square pan, use an 8-inch spring form.  Press the crust just onto the bottom and bake as instructed.  Once the crust has cooled, smear a thin layer of raspberry jam (the kind with seeds!) over the whole thing and then carefully top with the custard.  Bake again until set.  Cut into slivers and admire the pretty colorful layers.

Either way, in slivers or squares these zippy lime bars are the bee's knees.  The cat's pajamas.  They're like the love child of lemon bars and key lime pie, with a little pistachio thrown into the mix.  It might be the sugar talking here, but limes just may be my new favorite citrus.

Lime Squares with Pistachios and Graham
Adapted from Martha Stewart

There was some emphasis in the original recipe to use unsalted butter and raw unsalted pistachios so that the bars don't come out too salty. But I'm here to say that I only had salted butter and salted pistachios in their shell, and everything came out a-okay. Not salty at all. Just maybe avoid the shelled pistachio nutmeats that are salted. And though it should go without saying, none of that bottled lime juice either (yick!), you only have to squeeze about 4 limes here.

16 squares

Crust:
4 tablespoons (1/2 stick) butter, melted and cooled
1/2 cup shelled pistachios
4 ounces graham crackers
1/4 cup sugar
1 tablespoon grated lime zest

Filling:
2 large egg yolks
1 can (14 ounces) sweetened condensed milk
1/2 cup fresh lime juice


Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Line an entire 8x8 baking dish with foil. Spray with non-stick spray.

In a food processor, finely grind pistachios with graham crackers, sugar, and zest. Blend in butter. Press mixture into bottom and 1 inch up sides of prepared pan. Bake until lightly browned, 8 to 12 minutes. Cool crust, 30 minutes.

In a large bowl, whisk together egg yolks and sweetened condensed milk. Add lime juice; whisk until smooth. Pour filling into cooled crust; carefully spread to edges. Bake until set, about 15 minutes. Cool in pan on rack; then chill at least 1 hour before serving. Using the foil overhang, lift out of pan, and transfer to a cutting board. With a serrated knife, cut into 16 squares, wiping knife between each cut.

The Prickly Bits

Have you had cactus paddles - aka nopales - before?  They have a mild flavor not unlike green beans and kind of squeak between your teeth when you bite into them too.  Nopales are a bit notorious for having some of that slime factor the way okra does, but there are ways to get around that.  Namely, grilling.  I couldn't tell you why or how (the high heat might have something to do with it), but I can highly recommend you try them.  Other excellent ways to avoid the slime factor include staying away from canned or bottled versions of this vegetable, it's best fresh.

I've been seeing a lot more of these nopales pop up in the mexican produce market I frequent, so I assume spring must be their peak season.  The paddles are roughly the size of a large hand and usually still have their nasty spines intact.  You can also find them prepped and chopped in bags too, but those ones are hard to grill (obviously).  A simple swipe of a paring knife down the face and along the edges is all it takes to clean them up, and if you're careful, you'll only get poked maybe once or twice.  No big deal.

Now back to the grilling.  It's what brings this salad together.  The whole dish is kind of like a lighter version of mexican grilled corn, without the mayonnaise and the corn getting stuck in between your teeth. The nopales and corn get tossed with a zippy lime, cumin and olive oil dressing and then it's topped with chopped cilantro and mild queso fresco.  A little sliced avocado for good measure and you're good to go.

We enjoyed this as a salad, but you could absolutely go the taco route too if you're looking for more of a meal.  Either use this as the filling on its own and top with a good smoky-spicy hot sauce, or add in some cubed sautéed sweet potatoes and black beans.

As for me this weekend?  I'll just have to find room for more of this salad in between all the chips and salsa and grapefruit margaritas.  Oh yes, it's Cinco de Mayo!

Grilled Nopales and Corn Salad
Adapted from TheKitchn

If it's still a bit early for corn on the cob where you are, you can use frozen corn kernels and cook them in a hot skillet with a bit of olive oil to get a bit of that char going on. As for the nopales, I suppose you could use a stovetop grill pan but it's much more magical when cooked on an actual grill.  A little chile powder sprinkled over the top would be excellent as well.

4 servings

8 nopales, or cactus paddles

2 ears of sweet white corn
Olive oil
Salt & pepper
1 lime for juicing
a pinch of ground cumin
a handful of cilantro, chopped
1 avocado
1/2 cup queso fresco

Clean and prepare the nopales. Cut each paddle into 1/3-inch strips, cutting to almost, but stoping just short (about 1-inch) of the stem end. It should resemble a fan or a hand. Brush both sides with olive oil and season with salt and pepper.

Shuck corn and brush with olive oil.

Grill the nopales and corn until soft and slightly charred. The nopales should take about 5 minutes on each side; similar for the corn. Let cool, then cut nopales into 1-inch slices and cut corn kernels off the cob.

In a large bowl, combine nopales, corn, lime juice, cumin, cilantro, and a light drizzle of olive oil. Season to taste with salt and pepper. Just before serving, garnish with sliced avocado and queso fresco.

Spring, Sandwiched

I've had this sandwich bookmarked for a few weeks now.  But a few weeks ago the only asparagus I could find was pencil thin, limp and priced way too high.  These are not the qualities I look for when shopping.  Instead I just stared longingly at it on my computer screen, imagining its fresh flavor, its perfect representation of spring.   I needed this sandwich in my life.

Something familiar was speaking to me, but it took me a while to connect the dots.  You see, this is practically the spring vegetable version of the tuna nicoise sandwich I made way back when.  Almost.  This one is more elemental, simple.  You char some asparagus in a skillet, just enough to get a bit of color and caramelization on the outside, but keep some of that lovely crunch.  In the pan with that asparagus goes some crushed garlic cloves that first flavor the oil, then once they soften and sweeten a bit, get smeared on the bread.  The eggs, with their deep golden yolks (straight from some happy chickens on a friend's farm), lend some creaminess to the otherwise bright flavors.  Some mustard, my favorite pickled red onions, a squeeze of lemon and a good helping of dill round out the ingredients.  It sounds like more work than it actually is.

Asparagus is now flooding the markets and I've already begun to think of new ways to redo this sandwich.  Keep the asparagus as is, top it with a bit of sauce gribiche a handful of baby lettuces, thinly sliced cucumber and a few chopped kalamata olives.  Or toss lightly steamed asparagus in a mustard and caper vinaigrette and lay it over wild arugula.  Then pile on the hard boiled eggs, pickled red onion and fresh tarragon.  Each a new springtime collaboration.

Pair any of these with a colorful fruit salad and a chilled bottle of rosé and have yourself a perfect picnic.

Spring Asparagus Sandwiches
Adapted from TheKitchn

Measurements are hardly important here, but be sure to use the best quality and freshest ingredients. They're fantastic still slightly warm right after assembling, but if you don't mind sacrificing some crunch from the bread, wrap it all up and let it sit together in the fridge for a while before serving.  Perfect for a spring picnic.

Serves 2

about 12 medium spears of asparagus
2 pieces of baguettes, about 6"-7" inches long
2 hard boiled eggs
2 tablespoons olive oil

2 cloves of garlic, smashed
1/4 cup pickled red onions
2 tablespoons French mustard
lemon juice to taste
fresh dill
salt and pepper


Trim the asparagus by cutting or breaking off the woody ends, then cut the spears in half length–wise as best you can.  Slice your hard boiled eggs.

In a large skillet over high heat, add 1 tablespoon olive oil and the 2 cloves of smashed garlic. Sear the asparagus spears, about 3 minutes on each side, then remove from pan. You want a little bit of char, so don't move the asparagus very often. Split the baguette pieces in half.  Add remaining tablespoon of olive oil and toast the baguettes, cut side down in the same skillet just until it turns a bit golden.  Scrape/smear the garlic cloves that were cooked with the asparagus on one side of the toasted baguette, on the other side smear the mustard. 

Place half the asparagus on each sandwich, topped with sliced egg, dill, pickled onion and squeeze a little lemon over everything. Season with salt and pepper.