FOOD ON THE FOOD

Pining for Green

Okay, it’s official. I think I speak for everyone in the Northeast when I say we’re done with winter. Done with snow shoveling. Done with ice dams. Done with the wind and the freezing temperatures. Done with driving thru too-narrow streets and ripping the side-view mirror off my car. Done with arguing with college kids about parking. (This isn’t college math. There are six of you next door who are half my age. Go grab a shovel and dig out your own goddamn spots.) And we haven’t even gotten this weekend’s exciting freezing rain, yet, which will soak into all that snow like a sponge and collapse roofs and flood basements. Yay for arguments over insurance claims!

God, I can’t wait for spring. I’ve already placed my seed order for the school garden in anticipation. I even mapped out the whole rotation plan. Usually there is no plan. None at all. That’s how desperate I am to see some green.

And speaking of healthy food, it’s hard to get back on track with sensible eating during the winter doldrums, but here’s some salad inspiration anyway. You can make the dressing with that big jar of tahini in the back of the fridge that you bought to make hummus that time. This dressing really brightens up a winter salad and seems to make it heartier, which is something you need on these frigid days. Try it with mixed greens, some sliced cucumber, shredded carrots, a little chopped grilled chicken or pile of chicken salad, and some torn-up mint leaves or cilantro. You could even add some cubed avocado or sliced Asian pear.

Then enjoy while you dream of warmer days ahead.

Creamy Tahini Dressing  

The original recipe also called for 1 Tbsp. Asian chile oil, which I didn’t have, but I thought the dressing was plenty flavorful (and already had a decent kick) without it. Add back if you see fit.

1/4 cup tahini
3 Tbsp. apple cider vinegar
2 Tbsp. tamari or soy sauce
1 garlic clove, crushed
2 tsp. chopped peeled fresh ginger
1 tsp. sambal oelek or Sriracha
1/2 cup vegetable oil
Salt and pepper to taste

Combine the tahini, vinegar, soy sauce, garlic, ginger, and sambal oelek in the bowl of a food processor. Puree until blended. With the machine on, slowly drizzle in the oil until incorporated. Transfer to a half-pint jar and season with salt and pepper.

Source: Adapted from Stuart Brioza of The Progress and State Bird Provisions (San Francisco), as featured in Food & Wine

The Dinner of Death

That's what the kids dubbed last Tuesday's meal: The Dinner of Death.

Talk about dramatic. I mean, it's just a bunch of Brussels sprouts, shiitake mushrooms, blue cheese, walnuts, herbs, and some kind of weirdo healthy looking whole grain also known as farro. What's not to like?

The kids have suggested that I just copy and paste all of the above ingredients into this next paragraph to save time. They don't like any of it. Or so they say.

But you have to give credit where credit is due—they did eat it. The mountain of Halloween candy is very compelling and easily visible from the kitchen table.

Last I checked, we're all still alive.

Autumn Farro Salad with Brussels Sprouts, Shiitake Mushrooms, and Blue Cheese  

This is the kind of dish you either love or hate. You know who you are.

1 cup farro
1 pound Brussels sprouts, trimmed and halved
1 cup sliced shiitake mushrooms
2 oz. walnut halves
1 Tbsp. chopped fresh parsley
1 tsp. chopped fresh thyme
1/2 cup crumbled blue cheese
1 Tbsp. minced shallot
1 Tbsp. red wine vinegar (or balsamic)
3 Tbsp. olive oil
Kosher salt and freshly ground black pepper

Preheat the oven to 375°F.

Boil the farro in salted water for 15 to 20 minutes until tender but still al dente (this may take longer for some varieties of farro). Drain and set aside in a large bowl.

Meanwhile, roast the Brussels sprouts and shiitakes in a little olive oil, salt, and pepper, stirring every ten minutes or so. I keep them on two different sides of the pan, taking the mushrooms out after about 20 minutes and letting the Brussels sprouts go a little longer until they're done, 10-25 minutes more depending on their size. Add the mushrooms and Brussels sprouts to the bowl of farro.

Stir in the walnuts, herbs, and blue cheese. Season with salt and pepper. Whisk the shallot, vinegar, and oil together and fold into the salad. Taste and add more salt as needed. Don't be stingy with the salt. Serve warm or at room temperature.

Local Ingredients:
Brussels sprouts: Wilson Farms, Lexington, MA
Herbs: School garden, Waltham, MA
Cheese: Great Hill Blue, Marion, MA
Shallot: Waltham Fields Community Farm, Waltham, MA

Salad and Some Beauty Rest

In case you're wondering what I've been up to lately instead of posting to my blog, let me explain. We just got a new mattress.

…

Maybe you didn't hear me correctly: WE GOT A NEW MATTRESS!!!!

Why is everyone shrugging and acting like this is no big deal when my entire life has changed??

First off, for any new readers who may have wandered in, I am a champion sleeper. If there were an Olympic event for sleep, I would have won every gold medal that was available since 1973. I can sleep anywhere, anytime, instantly and without reservation. I'm one small step away from narcolepsy. I'm a step-and-a-half away from actually being dead.

Several months ago, Husband started having back problems. This was probably due to sleeping in the rut that had developed on his side of the bed over the years. When it became clear that his complaining wasn't going to stop unless drastic measures were taken, I rotated the mattress like a dutiful wife for probably the first time ever. His back got a little better while mine took a turn for the worse. Now I was sleeping in the rut. I'm never one for springing out of bed in the morning, but even less so when it involves a steep uphill climb and a Hail Mary as I try to fling myself over the edge.

We finally bit the bullet and lugged our stiff, sleepy selves down to Jordan's Furniture. We asked their expert "sleep technicians" to show us their finest mattresses in the $500 range. After a long period of laughter, they proceeded to show us what they had in triple that figure. But first they had us each lay down on some kind of sleep sensor that showed how our bodies interact with a flat surface. I was pretty sure I already understood the physics of sleeping based on my four decades of experience, but perhaps this new technology had some greater insights. I laid myself down on my back, front, and side. The areas that exerted the most pressure on the sensor, like my hips for example, showed up on the big screen in blobs of bright red and yellow. Conversely, the areas that didn't make contact with the sensor, like the arch of my back, didn't show up at all. I'm not sure what the point was supposed to be—concave areas need more support, convex areas need less? Unless you're fitting me for a molded full-body sleep orthotic, what's the difference? All the mattresses are flat. As far as I could see, all that sensor did was provide a large display of boob and ass prints for everyone in the whole showroom to see. A little T&A to help the salespeople get through the day. I hope they enjoyed the show!

Luckily, I have my own low-tech way of selecting a mattress. I sit down on it and if it sinks even a little, I move on to the next one. We like very firm mattresses around here. Very firm. I was almost fooled by a Tempur-Pedic, which seems really firm at first, but you have to wait a full ten seconds for the slow sink to finally come to completion. Nope! No sinking. We tried out a whole bunch of other options until we arrived at the most expensive rock slab they had available: solid granite topped with a thin layer of memory slate. We laid down and immediately fell asleep. Well, I did at least. Husband has a modicum of pride. I woke up two hours later all bright-eyed and bushy-tailed. I believe my exact words were: We'll take it, I don't care how much it costs.

Now that we have it home, I can honestly say that this mattress is a modern miracle. I would write poetry about it if I could write poetry. Lying in bed that first night, Husband and I were talking about the mattress the way we used to talk about each other. If anyone even thought about making a move, the other would say: Don't touch me, you'll ruin the moment!

The night before last, I slept for 12 hours. Twelve! I would have slept longer except Husband couldn't take it anymore and practically dragged me out of bed and set me down in front of the breakfast table. But the joke was on him because it was already time for lunch!

Radicchio Salad with Walnut Vinaigrette    

Toast the croutons and hard-boil the eggs ahead of time so you can whip this up in a flash.

1 head Chioggia radicchio, quartered through the core, sliced thinly crosswise
2 hard-boiled eggs, peeled, chopped
2 tablespoons chopped Italian parsley
Chopped walnuts
Homemade croutons
Sea salt and freshly ground black pepper

Walnut Vinaigrette
1 large shallot, finely diced
1 tablespoon red wine vinegar
1-1/2 teaspoons Dijon mustard
3 tablespoons walnut oil
Sea salt

Combine the shallot, vinegar, and salt in a small bowl and let stand for 10 minutes while preparing the other ingredients.  

To make croutons, cut a few slices of baguette into small cubes. Toast them in a sauté pan with a little olive oil and a sprinkling of salt, tossing frequently, until crisp and browned.

Finish the vinaigrette by whisking in the mustard and walnut oil until thick and emulsified. If the flavor is too sharp for your taste, whisk in a little more oil. Toss the radicchio, parsley, and vinaigrette together and arrange the salad on two plates. Top with the egg, walnuts, and croutons. Sprinkle with salt and pepper.

Source: Adapted from Deborah Madison's Vegetable Literacy

Local Ingredients
Eggs: Chestnut Farm, Hardwick, MA
Shallot: Waltham Fields Community Farm, Waltham, MA
Mustard: Raye's, Eastport, ME

What To Do With Leftover Panzanella

Last week, I made that Italian tomato and bread salad everyone's always talking about: panzanella. It was a riff on a recipe I saw in Homemade with Love by Jennifer Perillo and Penny de los Santos (good book, by the way). I grilled the bread, brushing it with olive oil beforehand and rubbing it with a garlic clove afterwards. Then I cubed the toasty bread and tossed it with fresh farm tomatoes, chopped basil, parsley, and marjoram from my neighbor's garden, a little vinaigrette, and some crumbled feta cheese I had in the fridge.

The kids thought it was "weird" until I explained that it's just like salad except all of the lettuce was traded in for extra croutons. Then they were pretty okay with it.  The adults thought it was really good, but someone made a whole giant bowl of the stuff and you can only eat so much. At least that was Husband's excuse. So I put plastic wrap over the top and saved it for the next day even though I knew what was going to happen. By tomorrow, it would be a spongy, disgusting mess. Who wants to eat a bunch of soggy croutons? No one, that's who.

Over one shoulder appeared a miniature version of Husband wearing a pair of plastic red horns on his head. You're never going to eat the rest of that, he said. Just throw it away. You can throw it away now, or you can throw it away later once an entire new micro-civilization has evolved. But, either way, it's going in the garbage.

Over the other shoulder appeared a miniature version of someone else who looked kind of familiar except she was wearing a flowy white dress over her jeans, which is very out of character. She was also holding a dinner plate over her head like some kind of a halo, which it clearly was not. Nevertheless, she implored me to keep it. Just keep it around for a day or two. It'll totally still be good. Think of all the starving people, blah, blah, blah.

So I saved the leftover panzanella and pulled it out for lunch the next day. It was even more horrible than expected. Why is cold, mushy bread so vile? But then I had an idea. An epiphany, really. Why not make soup? The Spaniards sometimes thicken gazpacho with bread. The Wednesday Chef has an amazing tomato soup recipe on her blog that is bread-based. What would happen if I just dumped the leftover panzanella into a pot with a can of tomatoes and cooked it for, oh, 10 to 15 minutes?

Awesomeness happens, that's what. Best. Lunch. Ever.

Tuna Macaroni Salad

Back in my college days, I could barely boil water. My senior-year off-campus roommates, on the other hand, turned out to be quite competent in the kitchen. Two were vegetarians and introduced me to the Moosewood Cookbook, cous cous, potatoes mashed with broccoli and melty globs of cheese, and the amazing concept of a rice cooker. I still have that rice cooker, in fact—a hand-me-down I use on a regular basis even though I may have finally mastered the art of boiling water (depending on the day).

My other roommate/BFF was my partner in meat-loving crime. It was she who first united my love of beef with my love of sour cream, producing for me her mother's beef stroganoff recipe to my ultimate delight. Ah, those were the days…when I could eat ungodly amounts of beef and sour cream and not even feel the tiniest bit guilty about it.

But perhaps the best recipe acquisition from that time period is a well-worn index card titled Tuna Macaroni Salad. It's filled with mostly pantry items: pasta, tuna fish, black olives, and pickles—with some cubes of cheddar cheese and sliced scallions mixed in—all bound together with mustardy mayo spiked with pickle juice. We liked it back then because it was easy, cheap, and filling. We like it now for the same reasons. (I also have happy associations of our house cats weaving between our calves in an always-successful bid to lap up the drained tuna water.)

This "salad" makes great picnic food. These days, I'm especially grateful to have it on hand when my kids have their sports ever-so-conveniently scheduled during dinnertime. When you finally get back, just open the fridge and dinner is served. You've got your starch, your dairy, your "meat" (tuna), quasi-vegetables (pickles, scallions), quasi-fruit (olives), and the ever-important mayo group represented. Quasi-complete nutrition in one lop-sided hexagon! Take that, Nutrition Pyramid!

Thanks to my liberal arts education, I can justify pretty much anything.

Tuna Macaroni Salad     

This serves 4 to 6, but, by all means, double the recipe for a crowd.

Salad
2-1/2 cups dried elbow macaroni (about 2/3 of a 1-pound box)
2 5-oz. cans solid tuna, broken up with a fork
1 cup cubed sharp cheddar cheese
1 cup sliced black olives
1/2 cup chopped dill pickle
4 scallions, sliced

Dressing
1 cup mayonnaise
2 tablespoons Dijon-style mustard
1 tablespoon dill pickle juice
Salt and black pepper to taste

Boil the pasta in a large pot of salted water until done, about 7 to 8 minutes. Drain and rinse with cold water until the macaroni is room temperature. You should have about 5 cups of cooked macaroni. Toss the fully drained pasta in a large bowl with the tuna, cheddar, olives, pickles, and scallions.

In a small bowl, whisk together the mayo, mustard, and pickle juice until combined. Season with salt and pepper. Gently stir about 3/4 of the dressing into the salad until well mixed. Cover the salad and refrigerate it for several hours until cold. Reserve the remaining dressing covered in the refrigerator to remoisten the salad just before serving, as it tends to dry out over time.

Grapefruit Fennel Salad

To celebrate me losing all of my dessert cookbook weight, let's have a salad!

I've been enjoying this grapefruit fennel salad for months now. It was inspired by a recipe in Amanda Cohen's cookbook, Dirt Candy. If you're unfamiliar with the NYC veggie-focused restaurant by the same name or its comic-book-themed cookbook spin-off, I suggest you seek out the latter the next time you're at the library or your local bookstore. It's an entertaining read as it illustrates, quite literally, the reality of opening a new restaurant, Cohen's stint on Iron Chef America, as well as cooking techniques for vegetables. As the author and heroine of this graphic novel, Cohen dons her chefly superpowers with wit and humility. The book is great fun, as is her blog. Check out this hilarious post on how her celery salad went over at the NYC Wine & Food Fest. If you find yourself defecting to her blog, I'll totally understand!

But back to the salad. Cohen's version includes candied grapefruit lollipops and grilled cheese croutons, which are no doubt delicious, but my version is a little more pared down (read: lazy). I've settled on this basic arrangement: mixed greens with thinly sliced fennel and red onion, segmented grapefruit, and crumbled feta. The salad benefits from having something fatty and salty in the mix, so if you forgo the cheese, fill the void with crumbled bacon, chopped almonds or pistachios, or cubed avocado with a sprinkling of sea salt. The dressing, which I make with anise seeds instead of fennel seeds, is mildly fruity and refreshing. It's the perfect pre-summer salad.

(It also reminds me a little bit of dessert!)

 

Grapefruit Fennel Salad     

Below are my suggestions, but use what you like in the proportions of your choosing. Just be sure to slice the vegetables very thinly. A tangle of radish sprouts would be a nice addition. The amounts below serve two grownups. Scale up as you wish.

Salad
1 to 2 cups mixed lettuce, spinach, and baby kale
1/2 fennel bulb, thinly sliced
1/2 small red onion, thinly sliced (only cut what you'll use)
1 red grapefruit
Crumbled feta, goat cheese, or queso fresco
Chopped salted almonds or pistachios (optional)

Anise Dressing
1 tablespoon finely grated grapefruit zest (from 1 grapefruit)
2 tablespoons grapefruit juice
1 tablespoon lemon juice
1/2 teaspoon anise seeds
1/4 teaspoon Dijon mustard
1/3 cup extra-virgin olive oil
Salt and freshly ground black pepper to taste

For the salad, toss the lettuce, fennel, and onion in a bowl.

Finely grate the zest from the grapefruit and set it aside for the dressing. Cut the grapefruit in half and reserve one of the halves for the dressing. To segment the other half, place it cut-side-down and slice the peel off the grapefruit in swaths, following the contour of the fruit. Then turn it over and cut between the membranes to remove the juicy flesh in between. Set the grapefruit segments aside in a shallow bowl.

For the dressing, add the grapefruit zest, grapefruit juice from the reserved grapefruit half, lemon juice, anise seeds, and mustard to a blender. Blend on high, then reduce the speed to low and slowly stream in the oil until smooth and emulsified. Add salt and pepper to taste. (The dressing can be stored in a covered jar in the refrigerator for up to a week.)

Lightly dress the greens and veggies just before serving. Arrange the salad on plates with the grapefruit segments, cheese, and nuts if using. Serve additional dressing at the table.

Source: Adapted from Dirt Candy by Amanda Cohen, Ryan Dunlavey, and Grady Hendrix

Bulgur Salad with Chard and Olives

I cannot get enough of this salad! Basically, it's tabbouli, the Middle Eastern grain salad with fresh herbs and tomatoes, but with other stuff subbed in for the tomatoes, like Swiss chard and olives. Lots of parsley and cilantro combined with a generous shot of lemon keep the flavors bright. It's good for picnics, barbecues, or hasty lunches out of a Tupperware container at work. Next week, consider switching out the chard and olives for grilled zucchini, pattypan squash, and dare I hope for eggplant? Too soon? Only the hot July sun knows for sure. Then, in August and September, it's tomato time. Wait your turn, tomatoes. You're not the only game in town!


Bulgur Salad with Chard and Olives (print-friendly version)

This recipe makes a lot, at least 8 servings, so I hope you're hungry!

1 1/2 cups medium bulgur wheat
Kosher salt
1 bunch Swiss chard, stems removed, sliced into thick strips
1/4 cup fresh lemon juice (from 1 to 2 lemons)
2 medium cloves garlic, minced and mashed to a paste with a pinch of salt
1 large shallot or small onion, finely diced
1/2 cup mixed country olives, pitted, coarsely chopped
1/2 cup coarsely chopped fresh cilantro
1/2 cup coarsely chopped fresh flat-leaf parsley
1/2 cup extra-virgin olive oil
Freshly ground black pepper

Combine the bulgur wheat and 1 teaspoon of salt in a large bowl. Bring 2 1/4 cups of water to a boil and then pour over the wheat. Cover the bowl with a large plate and let set until the water has been absorbed and the bulgur is tender, about 1 hour.

Wash the chard and place it wet into the pot. Cover and steam over medium heat until wilted and tender, 3 to 4 minutes. Drain the chard, run it under cold water, and squeeze it dry.

Combine the lemon juice, garlic, and shallot, and let sit for at least 15 minutes.

Gently fold the olives, cilantro, parsley, oil, Swiss chard, and lemon mixture into the bulgur. Season to taste with salt and pepper. Refrigerate until cold.

Source: Adapted from Fine Cooking and Tasha DeSerio.

Local Ingredients:
Bulgur Wheat: Baer's Best, Lover's Brook Farm, South Berwick, ME via Russo's, Watertown, MA
Swiss chard, cilantro, parsley: Waltham Fields Community Farm, Waltham, MA

Lazy, Hazy, Crazy Salad Nicoise

Julia Child's 100th birthday is coming up in August, and people are planning all kinds of celebrations and commemorations in the weeks leading up to it. I have very good intentions when it comes to these things, let it be known, but I usually find myself missing the boat. I'm great with professional deadlines, but terrible with bloggy deadlines. The internet is too free to be burdened by the constraints of time! (Of course, I'm pretty sure that's what the guy who played World of Warcraft for 362 hours straight said right before he died of a heart attack. Ditto for the guy who keeled over after his marathon porn binge. But for me it's different. Verrrrrry different. Because I was making salad!)

The above Salad Nicoise was what I was supposed to blog about for the JC100 a month ago. It's a composed French salad inspired by the Mediterranean city of Nice, and Julia taught us how to make it back before salad was even remotely cool. Or so I hear. I was only an infant at the time and capers were just a glimmer in my eye (it's hard to see the TV with tiny, non-dilating caper-pupils).

Besides lettuce, Salad Nicoise contains sliced potatoes, green beans, tomatoes, hard-boiled eggs, tuna, olives, capers, and anchovies all dressed in a lemony-mustard vinaigrette. It's a delicious mix of fresh vegetables and briny, pickled things. Husband and I devoured this salad—ate the whole thing in one sitting. Just as quickly, I missed whatever the deadline was for posting about it. Then this week, with temps nearing 100°F and several heads of CSA lettuce in the fridge, I found myself craving those flavors again. That's when I threw together a scaled-back version of this salad that was quicker and just as delicious.

First, I dispensed with anything that involved hot, boiling water because my house was steamy enough as it was. That meant the cooked potatoes and green beans were out. I had a few hard-boiled eggs already made, so I kept those, otherwise I would have left them out, too. I prepared my lovely seasonal veggies: lettuce, spinach, and radishes. I added a can of drained, oil-packed tuna (always keep a can of the good stuff in the pantry). Then came the olives and capers (again, always keep some in the fridge). And a few anchovies (optional). Then make a vinaigrette with herbs of your choice (remember my salad dressing primer?)

Voila! An easy dinner on a hot summer's day. Nice!

Sesame Soba Salad with Shiitakes

Husband was out of town last week, so I took that opportunity to make all the food he hates. (Or all the food he thinks he hates.) Enter this sesame soba salad with mushrooms and tofu. He's never had this particular dish before, but it just seems like exactly the kind of thing he wouldn't want to see on the dinner table after a long day at work. You get a sense for these things after spending 20 years with someone. But like I said, he was gone, and it was the perfect repository for my recent flush of homegrown shiitakes.

The recipe is from Melissa Clark's latest book, Cook This Now, which you should seriously consider buying, not because of the bullying title but because your favorite blogger bullied you into it. (That's me, by the way. Your favorite blogger. In case somebody else jumped to mind.) The chapters are arranged by month so it's perfect for cooking with the seasons, especially if you belong to a particularly fertile CSA. It's one of those cookbooks where every single recipe sounds good.

Soba are thin Japanese buckwheat noodles, and here they're tossed with roasted mushrooms, fresh cucumbers and scallions, and a sesame and soy sauce dressing brightened with ginger and a bit of orange juice. There's also a recipe for tofu "croutons," which I was skeptical about, not being much for tofu myself, but then I ate half of the fried cubes before dinner was even served. Frying makes everything better, even tofu. 

I think you can pretty well imagine the kids' reaction to this meal. My eldest looked stricken when confronted with his plate. He's a great eater these days, but even he has his limits. Brown pasta? Tofu? Mushrooms that look like sea monster tentacles? Not a recipe for success. (Well, maybe the sea monster tentacles.) Both kids ate their mandatory quota of bites and then slunk off. But, boy, I thought it was delicious. I will definitely be making this again, though maybe just for my solo weekday lunches.

Sesame Soba Salad with Roasted Shiitakes and Tofu Croutons

When outdoor potluck season begins, consider this instead of your usual pasta salad.

8 oz. shiitake mushrooms, stems removed, caps sliced into thin strips
2 1/2 Tbsp. toasted sesame oil, divided
5 1/2 Tbsp. soy sauce, divided
1/2 lb. extra-firm tofu, drained, cut into 3/4-inch cubes
1 Tbsp. peanut oil or olive oil
1 1/2 Tbsp. freshly squeezed orange juice
1 Tbsp. rice wine vinegar
1 Tbsp. grated gingerroot
1 medium cucumber, peeled
6 oz. soba noodles
2 scallions, thinly sliced
2 Tbsp. chopped fresh cilantro
1 Tbsp. sesame seeds
Salt to taste

Preheat the oven to 400°F. Set a pot of water to boil.

Toss the mushroom slices with 1 Tbsp. sesame oil, 1/2 Tbsp. soy sauce, and a pinch of salt. Spread them out on a baking sheet in a single layer. Roast, tossing occasionally, until mushrooms are tender and slightly golden, 8-10 minutes.

Pat tofu cubes dry with paper towels and heat oil in a large nonstick pan over medium heat. When it shimmers, add the tofu in a single layer and let it cook undisturbed for 3-4 minutes until golden brown on the bottom. Flip the pieces over and cook 2-3 minutes more until the other side is golden. In a small bowl, whisk together 2 Tbsp. soy sauce and 1/2 Tbsp. sesame oil. Pour it into the pan with the tofu and toss for 1 minute longer. Drain tofu on a paper towel-lined plate.

In a small bowl, whisk together the remaining 3 Tbsp. soy sauce, 1 Tbsp. sesame oil, orange juice, rice wine vinegar, and ginger. Let sit so flavors meld.

Cook the soba noodles according to the package instructions. My instructions were in Japanese, so I kept tasting them until they seemed done, about 6 minutes. Drain and run under cold water, draining again.

Cut the peeled cucumbers lengthwise into quarters and scoop out the seeds. Cut each quarter into slices. In a large bowl, toss the noodles with the cucumber, mushrooms, scallions, and cilantro. Lightly toast sesame seeds in a dry pan, tossing frequently, 1-2 minutes. Add sesame seeds to salad. Toss with dressing, top with tofu, and serve.

Holy Mackerel!

Look at the salad Husband made for me! It's got lettuce, spinach, cucumber, red pepper, celery, chopped almonds, cheddar shavings, and smoked mackerel. Yes, smoked mackerel from Ducktrap River in Maine. Very tasty, cheaper than smoked salmon, and lots of omega-3s. Whole Foods carries it. We also like the Memphis-style smoked bluefish from Dave's Cape Cod Smokehouse, which you can find at the Wayland Winter Farmer's Market (starting January 7, 2012). Perfect for when you don't feel like cooking.

Roasted Delicata Squash with Quinoa Salad

Now comes the time of year when the squash situation starts to get out of hand. Maybe you get one or two squashes from your CSA pickup, but then maybe you don't cook them right away, and soon you're getting two or three more the following week, and before you know it your Husband is threatening to drop-kick them all out the back door. And he'll do it, too.

Here's a surprisingly good way to segue from summer into fall and make a dent in your squash pile: baked delicata squash stuffed with a cool, vinaigrette-spiked salad of quinoa, apples, arugula, and herbs. Delicata may be my favorite type of squash for its sweet, delicate flavor and pretty, edible skin. The hollowed-out halves make a great serving vessel, and its sweetness pairs well with the nuttiness of the quinoa as well as the peppery arugula and tart apples. Refreshing yet comforting as summer turns to fall.

Delicata Squash with Quinoa Salad

Don't cut off the ends of the squash like I did in my picture. It's much prettier to keep them intact, plus the salad will be better contained.

2 delicata squash, halved lengthwise, seeded
2 Tbsp. extra-virgin olive oil
1 cup quinoa
2 Tbsp. golden raisins
1 Tbsp. sherry vinegar
1 tsp. honey
1 tart green apple (like Granny Smith, Rhode Island Greening, Roxbury Russet, or Northern Spy), finely diced
1 large shallot, minced
1 garlic clove, minced
2 Tbsp. chopped mint
2 Tbsp. chopped parsley
1 cup arugula (about 1 oz.)

Preheat the oven to 350°F. Brush cut sides of squash with a little olive oil (reserve the rest), and season with salt and pepper. Place squash cut side down on a baking sheet and roast until tender, about 45 minutes.

Meanwhile, in a smallish saucepan, bring 2 cups of lightly salted water to a boil. Add quinoa, cover, and simmer 10 minutes (or use a rice cooker). Stir in the raisins and simmer, covered, until the water is absorbed, about 5 minutes. Transfer quinoa to bowl and let cool.

In a small bowl, whisk the vinegar and honey with the remaining olive oil and season with salt and pepper. Add the dressing to the quinoa along with the apple, shallot, garlic, mint, and parsley. Toss well. Add the arugula right before serving and toss gently. Generously fill squash halves with quinoa salad and serve.

Source: Chef Michael Symon of Lola Bistro in Cleveland, via the cookbook Reinventing the Classics by the editors of Food & Wine

Local Ingredients:
Squash, arugula, shallots: Waltham Fields Community Farm, Waltham, MA
Apple: Autumn Hills Orchard, Groton, MA
Quinoa: Baer's Best, Hamilton, MA (via Russo's)
Honey: Reseska Apiaries, Holliston, MA
Mint: My backyard

Folded Tortilla Salad

Speaking of cheap meals, here's a nice lunch for $1 a serving. Basically, you make a big batch of the roasted tomatillo salsa you see right over there in the sidebar and purée it in a blender with a little water. Do that ahead of time. Then fry 3 corn tortillas (not flour) one by one in some oil about 20 seconds per side until crisping but not crispy. Dip both sides of the fried tortillas in the tomatillo purée and fold on plate. Top with more purée, shredded cabbage, sliced radishes, and crumbled queso fresco. Season with salt and pepper. It sounds a little weird, I'll admit, but talk about great Mexican flavor with lots of fresh veggies. Don't knock it 'til you try it.

Ingredient Sources:
Tomatillos, onion, serrano chile, cabbage, radishes: Waltham Fields Community Farm, Waltham, MA
Corn tortillas: Cinco de Mayo, Lynn, MA

Autumn Harvest Salad

We spent the long weekend in New Hampshire and, yup, it’s definitely fall.  As if you couldn’t tell by: a) the calendar; b) the leaves; and c) the mounting winter squash situation.  Gourd after gourd after gourd after gourd…

I know you’re sick of hearing me complain about squash every fall, but, the truth is, I’ve developed a bit of a soft spot for squash.  Call me sentimental.  The secret, of course, is to find some recipes you really like.  I’m partial to my super-simple butternut squash bisque I contributed to Yankee Magazine some years back.  But in case you’re not willing to give in to soup season quite so soon, here’s a nice salad that eases the transition between summer and winter.  Not only does it use the last of your local lettuce and the beginnings of your winter squash, but it also features nuts, cranberries, blue cheese, bacon, and a tangy honey-sweetened dressing, making it possible to source most of the ingredients locally around here.

More about the fabulous cookbook from whence this recipe came in my next post.  But I’ll give you a hint: the local author writes a great food blog called Poor Girl Gourmet!

Harvest Salad with Honey-Balsamic Dressing

I substituted local blue cheese for the Gorgonzola and locally foraged black walnuts for the hazelnuts (more on the black walnuts later).

Squash
2-lb. acorn squash
¼ cup extra-virgin olive oil
3 Tbsp. packed brown sugar
Kosher salt
Black pepper

Dressing
¼ cup honey
2 Tbsp. Dijon mustard
2 Tbsp. balsamic vinegar
¼ cup plus 2 Tbsp. extra-virgin olive oil
Kosher salt
Black pepper

Salad
3 cups (5 oz.) mixed baby greens, lettuce, or arugula
½ cup hazelnuts
¼ cup dried cranberries
4 slices of bacon
¼ cup Gorgonzola, crumbled

Preheat the oven to 375°F.  Cut the acorn squash in half lengthwise, pole to pole.  Remove and discard the seeds, and then cut each half crosswise into ½-inch-wide slices such that you have a lovely ripple effect from the ridges of the squash.  In a large bowl, mix together ¼ cup olive oil and brown sugar.  Add the squash and toss to coat, seasoning with salt and pepper. Transfer squash to 9 by 13-inch rimmed baking sheet, and bake, turning halfway through cooking time, about 30 minutes or until easily pierced with a fork.  Let cool 5-10 minutes.

Meanwhile, in a small bowl, whisk together honey, mustard, and balsamic vinegar.  Whisk in ¼ cup plus 2 tablespoons olive oil until well blended.  Season with salt and pepper and set aside.  Fry bacon until crispy, let cool on paper towels, and crumble.  Toast hazelnuts in dry frying pan 5-10 minutes, tossing frequently to prevent scorching, until lightly golden and fragrant.  Remove to plate to cool.

To arrange salad, place one quarter of the mixed greens on each of four plates.  Divide up the squash, nuts, cranberries, bacon, and cheese among the four salads, and drizzle a tablespoon or two of the dressing on top.  Serves 4.

Source: Adapted from Poor Girl Gourmet by Amy McCoy

Local Businesses Supported:
Squash, lettuce, arugula: Waltham Fields Community Farm, Waltham, MA
Honey: Reseska Apiaries, Holliston, MA
Dijon mustard: Raye’s Mustard, Eastport, ME
Bacon, black walnuts: Codman Farm, Lincoln, MA
Cheese: Jasper Hill Farm, Greensboro, VT

Are Those Mulberries on My Salad?

Why, yes.  Yes, they are.  I found some new mulberry trees in a secret location where the branches are low and the competing wildlife less voracious.  (Also, I noticed that the black raspberries are starting to come into their own, so keep your eye out for those, too.)

I love turning salad into dessert.  Because do you know how much salad I eat when it tastes like dessert?  Four times as much.  So much that having “a little salad” before my evening jog turns into “a lot of salad” before my evening jog such that I practically throw up halfway through my evening jog.  Add this to the list of totally preventable circumstances if only I could have helped myself.

The responsible salad was farmshare greens (lettuce, spinach, arugula, endive) with foraged mulberries, sliced red onion, goat cheese, and walnuts with a balsamic vinaigrette.  It was delicious next to rosemary and fennel-crusted pork chops.  (I might have eaten a little of those, too.)  (And a hunk of defrosted baguette.)

Anyway, I don’t need any lectures, Husband.  I’ve already learned my lesson about stuffing myself a half-hour before physical exertion.  And the lesson is that jogging is dumb!

Local Ingredient Sources:
Lettuce, spinach, arugula, endive: Waltham Fields, Waltham, MA
Mulberries: Waltham, MA
Goat cheese: Westfield Farm, Hubbardston, MA
Pork chops: Chestnut Farms, Hardwick, MA

Salad Dressing Refresher

We haven't had a bottle of salad dressing in our refrigerator for more than 10 years.  True story.  Now, some of that time had to do with me not eating very much salad, I will confess.  I’ve always been more of a meat and potatoes and dessert kind of girl.  But, most of that time had to do with me not liking bottled salad dressing, and finding that I eat a lot more salad when I actually like the dressing. 

My younger, restaurant-going years were spent in part devouring wonderful tangles of micro-greens, tender lettuces, and pea tendrils and wondering how these little bistro salads could attain such a level of deliciousness while my own homemade lettuce piles remained so uninspired.  The thing to know about salads if you want to like them is that you need to use fresh vegetables.  Like really fresh.  Straight from the farm if you can get them.  They should talk back.

The second thing is to wash your greens and spin them dry, dry, dry if you want your dressing to cling to the leaves instead of sliding off into a puddle at the bottom of the salad bowl.  If you don’t have a salad spinner, toss them into an old pillowcase, then walk outside and whip your arm around real fast as if it were the sole windmill powering the entire Internet.  The people on the sidewalk might look at you funny.  Just aim the centrifugal stream of water at their faces and they’ll keep right on walking.  

Thirdly, you should make your own dressing.  Supermarket dressing sucks.  Most of it, anyway (if you have a favorite, you can put it in the comments).  I don’t even know what they put in those bottles half the time, but you don’t need more than five ingredients, which you probably already have.  Two, if you’re really short on time and patience.  It will only take 30 seconds to make your own and it makes everything go down so much better.

The final thing to remember about green salads is that you should never dress them ahead of time.  Do it approximately one second before you’re going to eat.  Everyone should already be sitting down and complaining about the fact that there's salad tonight.  Don't worry.  They'll shut up once they taste the dressing. 

30-Second Vinaigrette

Here’s my everyday vinaigrette technique.  There’s no recipe—just a basic ratio that you can scale up or down depending on how many people you’re feeding.  Store any extra in a jelly jar in the fridge.  The olive oil might congeal, but some time warming at room temperature and a brisk whisking will revive it.

1 part red wine vinegar, white wine vinegar, or apple cider vinegar
Touch of Dijon mustard (optional)
2-3 parts extra-virgin olive oil (I like my dressings tangy, so I use closer to 2)
Salt and pepper

Whisk together vinegar and mustard.  Add oil in a slow, steady stream until the mixture thickens and emulsifies.  Season with salt and pepper. 

To upgrade this to a 3-minute vinaigrette, juice a lemon instead of using vinegar, add the mustard along with some minced garlic or shallots and chopped herbs.  Then whisk in the oil, salt, and pepper.


Buttermilk Herb Dressing

When I get sick of vinaigrettes, here’s what I make instead.

2 parts buttermilk
2 parts mayonnaise
1 part minced shallots or onions
1 part chopped herbs like tarragon, parsley, and chives (but the seasonal variations are endless)
Salt and pepper

Whisk or shake together in a jar, adding more buttermilk if too thick, or more mayo if too thin.  Season with salt and pepper.  Store in the fridge.  Always shake before using.  This is also great for crudité platters.  Use extra mayo for a thicker consistency.

A Very Nice Potato Salad

Spring has been a little slow to warm up for my taste.  It always is, though, and who am I to judge, she who makes cold starts a way of life. 

Here’s a nice potato salad that’s lighter than my summertime standby, with a mustardy vinaigrette and some teasing greens.  It’s the seasonal equivalent of showing a little leg.  A pale, goosebumpy leg that could benefit from a bit more sun and little less of the raw, chafing winds.  Is all I’m saying.

Anticipatory Potato Salad

Like April, this is best served lukewarm.

8-10 small Yukon gold or fingerling potatoes
1 small yellow onion, halved and sliced thinly
1 small bunch watercress, leaves only
¼ tsp. Dijon mustard
¼ tsp. whole-grain mustard
1 Tbsp. white wine vinegar
1 tsp. chopped fresh thyme leaves
3 Tbsp. extra-virgin olive oil
Salt and pepper

In a large pot, cover potatoes with water and bring to a boil.  Add some salt to the pot.  Simmer until tender, 15-20 minutes.  Drain and let cool a bit.  Peel and cut into ½-inch cubes.

In a small bowl, whisk the mustard, vinegar, thyme, salt, and pepper.  Whisk in the oil in a slow, steady stream.  Toss the warm potatoes with the onions and watercress.  Add dressing, toss, and taste for seasoning.  Serve slightly warm or at room temperature.

Source: Inspired by Amanda Hesser’s The Cook and the Gardener.

The Boycott is Over

It’s been 30 years at a minimum since I’ve willingly allowed a cherry tomato to pass my lips, so disgusted am I by their seedy interiors.  But these?  These little sungolds are like candy.  I can’t get enough.  Here I tossed them with crumbled queso fresco, fleur de sel, and fresh marjoram from out back.  No dressing required.  Perfection.

(Forgot to mention: This is my submission to Kalyn's Weekend Herb Blogging hosted by the lovely Marija at Palachinka.)

Potato Salad for the People

So, I hear that Chris Kimball, who presides over the Cook’s Illustrated/America’s Test Kitchen/Cook’s Country media empire, doesn’t like his recipes to be tampered with.  (Now, that’s a newsflash!  It’s like Nazi Germany in that test kitchen.)

The blogosphere is in a tizzy over the spanking Kimball’s PR rep gave Melissa at Alosha's Kitchen for posting an adaptation of a Cook’s Country potato salad recipe on her blog.  Which she had courteously credited.  You can get the short version of the story here, or the longer version here. 

I don’t want to take sides, but this is what I’ve gleaned from my blessedly brief foray into copyright law as it seems to be interpreted by our favorite bow-tied cook/publisher:

CI/ATK/CC Fair Use Policy

You can cook our recipes, but only if you’re going to do it right.  You can discuss the recipes, but not on the Internet.  Unless you have permission, which we probably won’t give you.  No modifications or improvisations of any kind are allowed.  We didn’t do all that work for nothing.  (Get your hand away from the spice cabinet—that’s not what the recipe says!)  Also, we did not approve the use of flash photography.  You may, however, draw a picture of your meal, as long as you’re one of our certified artists.  But not if you stink at drawing.  As for the finished dish, let us taste it first and then maybe you can eat it.  Maybe.

That seems like an awful lot of trouble for some potatoes in a little mayonnaise, but I guess running a perfection-based business is no small feat.  Which brings me to my reason for posting.  It must really suck when somebody beats you to perfection.  Especially someone of my questionable talent.  But I seem to have stumbled onto a potato salad that people just will not stop eating.  God, why won’t they stop?  Save some for me.

Really, it couldn’t be any simpler.  My dumb cat can make it.  It was tested maybe three times, without measuring spoons, by a panel of one (1.5, if you count Mr. Nathan).  Still, I’d be willing to submit it to the Cook’s Illustrated taste testers for critique.  They’re uncanny.  If you spit into one of their pies, they can totally tell which one.

Potato Salad for the People

Oh, come on, lighten up.  It’s potato salad, for crying out loud.

12 medium red-skinned potatoes from your farmer, scrubbed (maybe 2 lbs.?)
1 small red onion, large dice
2 Tbsp. chopped fresh dill
1 Tbsp. Dijon mustard (or more; sometimes I use prepared horseradish)
1 cup or so of mayo (sometimes I sub in lowfat yogurt for part of this)
1 tsp. salt (heaping is best)
Lotsa black pepper (yes, lotsa is a standard unit of measurement in my kitchen)

Boil potatoes in their jackets in a pot of salted water, 20-25 minutes until easily pierced with knife but before they explode.  Drain and let cool.  Do not peel.

Take about half of the potatoes and mash them in a large bowl or pot.  Yes, mash them good, as if you’re Chris Kimball and the potatoes represent the very soul of cooking.  With the remaining potatoes, mash them ever so gently so that you end up with large chunks of potato that break along their own natural fault lines.  Add the onion, dill, mustard, and half of the mayo, and start mixing.  Add more mayo until you get the consistency that you, the people, are looking for.  I like it thick, so you can scoop it with an ice cream scoop and put it on a cone if you feel like it.  Just kidding, Chris Kimball (blowing kisses).  I’m never going to work in this town again, am I?  Add salt and pepper to taste.  Chill for several hours.  Share it with your friends.

(Don’t try to steal this, Chris Kimball.  It’s copyrighted.)

(I’m serious, I have my eye on you.)

Paper Chef: Fava Bean Bruschetta

I realized the other day that it’s been over a year since I participated in a food blogging event.  The last one was the Great Mac-N-Cheese-Off of January ’07.  What have I been doing with myself all this time?  Being a giant party pooper, I guess.

So, I’m easing back into the party with Ilva’s Paper Chef event being hosted this month by Hank of Hunter Angler Gardener Cook.  If you’re not familiar, Paper Chef is sort of like Iron Chef for us non-celebrity Internet folk, in which you come up with a dish using the four featured ingredients.  But unlike Iron Chef, there aren’t any cameras in your face and, since Google is only a click away, it’s really easy to cheat.  Sounds good to me.

I was glad to see this month’s ingredients were fennel, prosciutto, honey, and fava beans.  Not too crazy, right?  Past combinations have struck me as a bit challenging for someone of my particular talents.  Anyway, here’s the simple lunch I came up with.  It was good.

 

Fava Bean Bruschetta with Prosciutto and Honey with Shaved Fennel Salad

2 lbs. fava beans, shelled to yield about 2 cups of beans
3-4 Tbsp. extra-virgin olive oil, plus 2-3 Tbsp. more for dressing
1 fennel bulb, white part only, trimmed
1 shallot lobe, minced (meaning ½ shallot)
1 Tbsp. lemon juice, plus more for purée
½ baguette, sliced
1 garlic clove
2 Tbsp. honey
3 slices prosciutto (di Parma or San Daniele)
Salt and pepper to taste

In a pot of boiling, salted water, cook the fava beans until tender, about 10 minutes.  Drain and submerge in ice water until cool.  Drain again.  Pop the beans out of their skins (I do this by tearing a hole in the side and squeezing them out with my fingers).  Place beans in bowl of food processor and purée, adding olive oil until it reaches your preferred consistency (I would have liked mine to have been a little chunkier).  Season to taste with salt, pepper, and lemon juice.

Cut the fennel bulb down the middle, and lay cut side down.  Cut slices as thinly as possible.  Set aside in a medium bowl.  In a small bowl, combine minced shallot and lemon juice.  Slowly whisk in 2-3 Tbsp. olive oil until well combined.  Season with salt and pepper.

Toast baguette slices until golden.  Cut garlic clove in half and rub on one side of each of the toasts.  Drizzle very lightly with honey.  Top with a spoonful of fava bean purée, prosciutto, and another light drizzle of honey, if desired.  Pour dressing over fennel and serve.  Makes 4 appetizer servings.

My Kind of Salad

This is just me trying to make my salad look as much like dessert as possible.  And, you know, it worked.  I ate almost the entire head of lettuce myself. 

Only one more head to go.

 

Salad with Cherries and Queso Fresco

1 head Boston lettuce, washed, dried, leaves torn
10 cherries, pitted, halved
2 Tbsp. sliced almonds
4 oz. Salvadoran fresh cheese (or whatever), crumbled
1½ tsp. balsamic vinegar
1 Tbsp. extra-virgin olive oil
Salt and pepper to taste

Toast almonds in a dry frying pan over medium heat for a few minutes until fragrant, but not burnt fragrant.  Toss lettuce, cherries, almonds, and cheese in salad bowl.  Pour balsamic vinegar into a small bowl and whisk in olive oil until emulsified (meaning mixed up real good).  Add dressing to salad and toss with salt and a healthy grind of black pepper.