I made a peach pie this weekend. I used Lora Brody's basic crust, a peach filling recipe from Epicurious and a crumble topping, also from Brody's book, that was part of a recipe for a strawberry-rhubarb pie.

The crumble topping gets Brody a thumbs-up: Nice and crunchy without being too brittle. The peaches I used were kind of tart, which was a good contrast for this sweet topping. It's made up of 1/2 cup brown sugar, 1/2 cup oatmeal, 1/2 cup walnuts (recipe called for almonds) with 6 tablespoons of butter cut in. I actually got in there with my hands and mushed the butter in with my fingers; I figured it was OK for topping since you're not going for flaky with it.

I did see Tyler Florence do the same thing to make a pie crust and I think I may try that technique for my next pie crust. (I tried the food processor once, but was too heavy on the pulse button and ended up melting the butter; now I cut in the butter with a pastry blender, which I'm not patient enough to do so I end up with big chunks of butter - that doesn't seem to affect the final product, though.)

Brody's crust recipe seemed fine: flour, sugar, salt, butter, shortening, egg, water, vinegar. Sift the dry ingredients together, cut in the butter and shortening, mix the egg, water and vinegar in a separate container and add, a little bit at a time, to the flour mixture, blending with a fork until it starts to come together. I always end up with too much liquid, so I don't use it all. Form into a ball and chill for an hour. Her technique involves rolling out the dough in a ziptop plastic bag, and I never have a plastic bag that big, so that is kind of annoying, but I just rolled it out the regular way.

I can never get the crust rolled out in a nice, even round that's big enough to fill the whole pie plate - one part will drape over the edge while another section won't quite cover the side of the pie plate - but I've discovered that it doesn't hurt the pie at all to pull off the excess and patch up the parts that come up short. Once that's done, I freeze it for 15 minutes, then fill it, top it and bake it.

For the filling I mixed 7 peeled, sliced peaches with 1/4 cup cornstarch, 2/3 cup sugar, 1 teaspoon lemon juice, 1/2 teaspoon ground ginger and 1/2 teaspoon cinnamon. You leave it set half an hour and all the juices come out of the peaches, which makes it dry enought to use in a pie without getting the crust soggy.

Posted by Kim at 09:14 AM | Permalink | Comments (2)

I think two of the cookbooks I'm informally testing are keepers. (Although did anyone who knows me really think I would be getting rid of anything?)

We had Oatmeal Pancakes from Elizabeth Alston's book yesterday, and I was very pleased with them (they'd be good for people who are trying to avoid refined carbohydrates, too, I think, except for the sugar - I wonder if you can leave it out?). You start by pulverizing 2 cups of uncooked oatmeal into a flour in the blender or food processor along with 1 tablespoon brown sugar, 1/4 teaspoon salt, 1 1/2 teaspoon baking powder and 1/2 teaspoon baking soda. Then you add 2 eggs, 1 cup plain yogurt and 2/3 cup milk and blend until smooth. The batter's really thin at this point, but you leave it set for 5 minutes and it thickens up nicely. The finished pancakes have a pretty brown color and a nice, hearty texture without being the kind of pancakes that sit at the bottom of your stomach all day. I went ahead and made the extra batter into pancakes and froze them. I just pop them in the toaster when I feel like having them for breakfast.

On Friday, I used Bittman's technique for pan-frying salmon fillets and then finishing them in the oven, and, although the apartment smelled like fish all weekend, we did like the crispy results. I'll try a different spice mix, though. I used 5-spice powder and really didn't like the flavor.

Posted by Kim at 09:54 AM | Permalink

It's been so hot here: Hello summer! We put our air-conditioner in last night, but not before I made dinner, so I made a no-cook meal, a Thai-inspired noodle salad with strips of thick-cut roast beef from the deli.

It starts with two packets of ramen noodles, which you soak in hot water for 10 minutes (it really works). While that was soaking, I cut up a red bell pepper, a cucumber, some lettuce and mint. I also chopped some unsalted nuts, cut the deli roast beef into strips and made a dressing from peanut butter, rice vinegar, soy sauce, a pinch of cayenne and some sesame oil. Drained and rinsed the noodles, tossed them with some of the dressing and arranged it all on plates with some lime wedges. Todd took a photo that I'll post tonight. It's pretty. Huge amounts of food, too, so we're having leftovers for lunch.

Posted by Kim at 08:19 AM | Permalink | Comments (2)

We have not put our air conditioners in the windows yet, so I've been trying to make dinner without turning anything on. Fortunately, it's an annual tradition at Woman's Day to have an article on no-cook meals. Lots of sandwiches and cold soups, but tonight I'm going to try this Thai-inspired beef noodle salad that you make with deli meat and by soaking ramen noodles in warm water for 10 minutes. We'll see.

Last night I made another no-cooker, a couscous salad, with all the leftovers in the fridge. I nuke the water to get it boiling (although supposedly that's a no-no; see why below), then dump in the couscous and cover it for 5 minutes. This time I added tomato, roasted red pepper, diced mozzarella, salt, pepper and kalamata olives.

Why you shouldn't boil water in the microwave (although I do it anyway): Apparently the hot water can unexpectedly spurt up when you take it out of the microwave because the air that's trying to bubble up has nothing to form bubbles around, then when you slosh it when you take it out, the bubbles all form along the sides of the container and burst out of it; since the water reached the boiling point without bubbling, it's hotter than the boiling point when it spills all over your hands. I've seen others recommend putting a string or wooden pick in the water, breaking the surface, to allow the bubbles to form along that. I just use a really big, really old pyrex container with lots of scratches for the bubbles to form on.

Posted by Kim at 10:24 AM | Permalink

This includes two things Todd won't eat, mushrooms and crepes (only because crepes "aren't real food"), so it was perfect for last night, and the leftovers tasted even better today.

I made half a crepe recipe, which was enough for last night and lunch today, with 1/2 cup milk, an egg, 6 tablespoons flour, 1 1/2 tablespoons olive oil and salt. I whisked it up and left it to sit while I made the ragout.

Sauteed half a small onion in a little butter, added about 10 medium quartered crimini mushrooms and cooked that for 5 minutes, until the mushrooms started to brown. Then I added a couple good squirts of tomato paste, poured in about 1/2 cup water and stirred to dissolve the paste. Boiled that down until the sauce was thick, then stirred in some dried rubbed sage. It all tasted good right then, but the flavor of the sage really fully developed by the time I ate this for lunch today.

I used a 1/4 cup measure to scoop out the crepe batter and only filled it about 3/4 full. Brushed the hot pan with oil, then poured the batter in and swirled. Ended up with something not really round. I need to work on my crepe technique. When the edges started to get dry and browned I flipped it and cooked it for a little bit, then made the next one.

I folded 4 crepes in quarters and overlapped them in a row on a plate, then topped them with the mushroom ragout. Good. I just wrapped the leftover crepes in a paper towel (they didn't even stick).

Posted by Kim at 12:22 PM | Permalink | Comments (1)

You know how Julia Child boils an egg? She doesn't. She puts the eggs in a pot, covers them with water, brings the water to a boil, turns the heat off, covers the pot and then lets the eggs sit in the water for somewhere around 10 minutes (I'd have to look up the exact amount of time). Perfectly hard-cooked eggs, no green ring around the yolk.

Mark Bittman uses the same technique for cod or other white fish fillets in the Cod Cake recipe I tried last night, and, while I didn't particularly like the cakes (I used too much potato), I did like that technique.

I had a whipped fish spread at Craftbar that I've wanted to reproduce, and I think this recipe may be a good start. If I used less potato, added more seasoning or maybe some really good olive oil, I may have something. It's basically just cooked potato and cod mashed with ginger and scallions, salt and pepper, and a pinch of cayenne. Kind of a delicate flavor, which is good, but it needed more. Maybe some rosemary instead of the ginger and scallions. We'll see.

Posted by Kim at 08:24 AM | Permalink | Comments (3)

I know, I'm baking with toxic-colored berries, but it wouldn't be the classic without the neon-red cherries on it. So I donned my frilly apron, my string of pearls and my high-heeled pumps and started baking.

This is called a Pineapple Upside-Down Cake in Laura Brody's book, but the testers in the kitchen at work said this type of cake used to be called a plate cake, and I like the assonance, so . . .

This recipe has kept Basic Baking in the running, although I'm not 100 percent behind this one. My main objection is to the two sticks of butter that are used; the first stick is melted and combined with 2/3 cup brown sugar and poured into the bottom of a 9-inch round cake pan to make the topping. Then you arrange the pineapple and cherries on top. Pretty sweet.

The cake part of this, though, could stand alone. The crumb was perfect, not too dense nor too light, with a hint of sweetness and perfectly moist on its own. It starts with three eggs, 3/4 cup sugar and 2 teaspoons vanilla, whipped together. Then the second stick of butter, melted, is added. Then you sift in 1 cup flour with 1 teaspoon baking powder and 1/2 teaspoon salt and fold until it's all combined. Spread over the pineapple, then 350 degree oven for 35 minutes and let it set in the pan for 10 minutes before you invert it on a plate. The butter-brown sugar mixture soaks into the top part and sides of the cake, a sweet, buttery richness that requires a glass of milk. Almost too rich for me, but Todd was very enthusiastic.

(I almost couldn't get him to stop eating and take another picture.)

The cake part is definitely a keeper, though. I might experiment with other toppings, or no toppings, for it.

Posted by Kim at 08:56 PM | Permalink

I enjoy 30-Minute Meals, the Food Network show with Rachael Ray, a lot (I rush home to watch the show when I can - it's on at 6). She's so easy and enthusiastic, and the recipes really are quick and practical. (I like Sara Moulton, too, but on one show, entitled One-Pot Meals, she dirtied a total of about 11 pots and pans making two dishes. That is not my idea of a one-pot meal.) So I was pretty excited when the food editor came over to invite me to a "Meet & Eat" with Rachael Ray at the Food Network studios.

She was exactly as she is on TV, giggly and friendly, but much smaller than I thought she'd be (a common experience for me; I once saw Rosie O'Donnell on the street and even she looked small to me). The food was Rachael's favorites from the show and was great: sausage-stuffed mushroom caps, skewers of ginger beef, chicken wrapped in pancetta with a balsamic reduction. It was a "Christmas in June" theme, to illustrate that you can entertain with quick recipes. I was a big geek and had her sign the cookbook they gave us. She gave us suggestions for where to eat on our upcoming trip to Orlando.

On the cookbook front, I tried Mark Bittman's Pork and Turnips and it was pretty good. Why have I never cooked with turnips? They have such an interesting flavor and are pretty hearty. I think Bittman's book may turn out to be a keeper.

Posted by Kim at 09:49 AM | Permalink | Comments (1)

I have too many cookbooks, and I've just had an infusion of more (the kitchen cleaned out their library), so I have to decide to get rid of some of the ones I have. There are three that I've put on probation, and I've been cooking from them for the last couple of days: Mark Bittman's The Minimalist Cooks at Home, Laura Brody's Basic Baking and Elizabeth Alston's (she used to be the food editor here at WD) Pancakes and Waffles. I chose five recipes to try from each book and then I'll assess whether they've earned a bit of my precious bookshelf space.

Brody's book is not doing so well. I made banana bread on Saturday and followed her instructions explicitly, yet when I tried to get the loaf out of the pan, it just came apart, leaving about 1/2 inch of the bottom of the loaf in the pan. I've never had a problem unmolding quick breads before, but I always just give it a quick spray. This time I followed Brody's instructions for buttering and flouring the loaf pan, but the cake was so soft and fluffy . . .well, you know the results. Also, there was not enough banana flavor; the 1/4 cup of lemon juice sort of overwhelmed everything.

I've made two things from Elizabeth Alston's book, and they were both pretty good with great textures: a puffy, crisp, eggy oven pancake that was so absolutely easy to make I could do it on a weekday; and sourdough waffles, which require advance preparation but then the batter lasts for 2 days in the fridge. The sourdough waffles had the slightest tang (not too much, which was good, because I normally don't like sourdough) and the texture was fantastic: light and wonderfully crisp. If you want the recipes, let me know in the comments and I'll post them below.

Mark Bittman's doing fairly well, too. I had tried a chicken and rice dish from the book before and found it bland, but I made a soup this weeked that uses 1/4 pound of prosciutto, plus an onion, 4 cloves garlic and 6 cups boiling water, to make a quick (20 minute) stock, and it was really good. You also add greens and pasta. Brown the prosciutto to render the fat, add the onion and garlic, cook until onions are soft, add the greens and boiling water, then add the pasta and cook until the pasta is done. If you want to save some for later, put it aside before you add the pasta so the pasta doesn't get soggy and soak up all the liquid in the fridge. The stock really was very rich tasting, especially since I chopped up some Parmesan rind and added it to the soup. Next from him is braised pork and turnips.

Posted by Kim at 09:19 AM | Permalink

I'll just tell you. Jacques Pepin. Who is so kind, even when he must be exhausted. Who always seems to be teaching. Whose show with his daughter, Claudine, was the first cooking show that my husband would sit down next to me to watch.

I was at a dinner at the French Culinary Institute hosted by the Seafood Choices Alliance, an organization that's trying to inform the public and restaurateurs about how to make good seafood choices. Their main concern is the impact overfishing and aquaculture is having on the environment and on natural fish populations. It's a difficult and complex issue, because the status of various fish populations and aquaculture practices are as slippery as the fish themselves, and it's difficult for the average consumer, even if so inclined, to keep up. They're at www.seafoodchoices.com.

Jacques Pepin was not there for the entire event; he teaches at the school and stopped by for dinner after a long cooking demonstration for about 100 people. I was silenced and awed as soon as the group sat down to dinner, though, by the man sitting next to me, the executive VP of the FCI, Alain Sailhac, who promptly offered me and another woman a tour of the school.

After about two courses had been served, Jacques Pepin arrived and went to chat with another table. But to eat, he joined Mr. Sailhac at ours. When he sat down next to me he turned to me and said hi. All I answered in return was hi. Ugh. At first he said he only wanted bread and butter, but when the final dinner course arrived, from Michelle Bernstein, chef of Azul in Miami, he dug right in, clearing his plate and wiping up the sauce with bread. The Miami chef told us of a last-minute reservation by Jacques Pepin to her restaurant a while ago; she spent the entire afternoon planning and shopping for a special menu, ensuring the table was ready, etc. Then who should walk in and claim the reservation but a large Cuban man who said he was Jacques Pepin. She made him wait at the bar for two hours for a table. Mr. Pepin explained that this man has been impersonating him for five years, and not just to get the celebrity chef treatment at restaurants. He teaches cooking classes under the name and is now trying to copyright the name "Chef Pepin" for a line of spices or sauces or something. His name isn't even Pepin; it's something entirely different. The real Pepin is fighting this copyright; he wants to feel free to use his own name in the future.

The food was good, too. The first hors d'oeuvre I had was a dungeness crab cake with a sweet corn sauce. They provided the recipes in a booklet but were kind of sneaky; they left out all the best finishing touches, like the corn sauce, the soft pillow of polenta that supported an hors d'oeuvre of sardines with pine nuts and raisins, the homemade pasta under the oxtails and halibut.

But instead of waking this morning with the exquisite memory of last night, I often find in these situations that I am mortified by my lack of social grace the night before. One chef last night said that every once in a while she looks around her restaurant kitchen and wonders if she's going to be found out, if someone is going to rush into the kitchen, pointing a finger and calling her an imposter. I felt such a jolt of recognition when she said that. The difference is that she obviously is a chef, and a very good one (her dish last night, which included my first bite of braised oxtails, a revelation, was by far my favorite - I experienced one bite that made the next sip of wine burst with such fruity brightness that I begin to understand why people can become obsessed with the liquid stuff), while I had no business being at that dinner last night. I have never been to France, have not dined in French restaurants, had nothing to offer these larger-than-life French chefs who found themselves in my dull company. I don't even have business cards to offer when they're kind enough to ask. I must make myself more interesting; I feel dwarfed. How have I wasted nearly 30 years? What do I have to show? Why can't I just chalk this up as one of those new experiences that will make me a whole person, instead of agonizing over my inadequacies?

Posted by Kim at 06:30 AM | Permalink | Comments (2)

Every time I walk by the Olive Garden that has gone into the new building on 6th Ave in Chelsea, I've struggled with the two animals living inside of me: the snob and the violent hater of snobs (which leads to a healthy dose of self-loathing from both sides). It makes me so sad to see the same old chain stores in Chelsea that you find in depressing strip malls in the rest of the country.

The article in this week's Dining In section of The New York Times brought up all those feelings again. Going into the Outback in Queens Center gives me a sense of nostalgia and makes me feel like I'm going home again, back to Colorado where my family is. But I just went home, literally, a couple of weeks ago: I hopped on a plane and ended up in Denver. I don't think I want one of the ugliest parts of where I'm from transplanted here. I've grown to love the portions of New York I frequent for what they are now. I never understood those who long for the days Times Square was unsafe, but now I'm beginning to get a tiny inkling.

Comments like Tim Zagat's in the article, though, make me really want him to be wrong, wrong, wrong, simply to put that snotty foodie attitude in its place. In some ways, though, I share that snotty foodie attitude. I am all ambivalence. It seems to be my natural state these days.

I think we should be subversive: Hold up the Olive Garden as the hip new place to score a table, order expansively, eat none of it, then stop by the falafel stand on the way home.

Posted by Kim at 08:32 AM | Permalink

This isn't really a single-serving recipe (they rarely are), but the leftover pancakes are pretty good warmed up, so consider this lunch the next day, too. The recipe is from Mollie Katzen's Sunlight Cafe, her newest cookbook, which is all "breakfast" foods (although these don't seem like breakfast to me). They have wild rice, scallions, mushrooms and goat cheese, so were the perfect candidate for a night when Todd was at class.

I cooked the wild rice in the microwave following directions on the box, except that I had to keep adding water because it kept boiling away mid-cooking: 1/4 cup wild rice and probably about a cup of water in the microwave on high for about 20 minutes, stirring it every 5 minutes and adding more water if it needs it. The times probably vary depending on the microwave, too, but since this isn't really rice, and doesn't get sticky and gross if you mess with it, it's easier to play it by ear (or by taste and touch).

While that was going on, I salted and sauteed the mushrooms for about 10 minutes, then added a minced garlic clove and a squeeze of juice from half a lemon. Then I beat 2 eggs until mixed and added 2 generous tablespoons flour and some salt. Mixed that until uniform, then added the cooked wild rice, a large sliced scallion, goat cheese crumbles, pepper and the mushroom mixture. Heated oil in the same skillet I cooked the mushrooms and used 1/4 cup of batter per pancake. Flipped 'em after 2 or 3 minutes and finished cooking on the other side.

Posted by Kim at 06:47 AM | Permalink

It was overcast and rainy, but the lines were still long at the Big Apple Barbecue Block Party that Todd and I went to yesterday. It was out in front of Blue Smoke, and 27th street was blocked off between Park Avenue and Lexington. Live jazz, crowds, smoke and some good barbecue.

The organizers had invited award-winning barbecuers from North Carolina, Illinois, even Nevada. We bought 15 tickets ($1 per ticket with each plate costing $6; the food booths wouldn't take cash) and started at the shortest line, sharing an order of Chipotle Chicken Wings and Potato Salad from Blue Smoke. The sauce was good, smokey and spicy, but the wings were kind of anemic. While we ate that, we stood in a long line in the rain for pork shoulder and baked beans made by Big Bob Gibson Bar-B-Que from Alabama. The shredded pork, served on seeded buns, was the softest meat I've ever had, but it needed the sauce for flavor (which it definitely had).

Then I had to run back to the booth for more tickets while Todd stood in another long line so we could try the food from Kreuz Market from Lockhart, Texas. (These lines were such a tease, because they all snaked right up next to the smoke pits where the booth cooked the food you were standing in line to try.) I'm glad we did because the sausage with onions and sliced sweet n sour pickles on Sunshine white bread (I love it when what seems like a basic national packaged food becomes fundamental to a recipe for something fantastic) was the highlight of our day. The rain had stopped, so we squatted on the sidewalk to eat. Biting through the soft bread and then the crunchy skin of the spicy sausage, we listened to jazz with fellow urban dwellers willing to brave the rain for a bit of smoke on a city street.

Posted by Kim at 05:55 PM | Permalink