I really didn't think this would coalesce into anything: a good balsamic from O & Co, yogurt cheese made from a grocery-brand yogurt, cracked black pepper and OK, big, red strawberries. I cut up the strawberries, tossed them with some sugar and let them sit, then I topped it with a dollop of yogurt that I had strained overnight so that it thickened, drizzled the vinegar over that and added some black pepper.

Now I'm not entirely sure the pepper added anything, but this was much better than the sum of its parts. The juice from those so-so berries, the sugar and that sweet, thick balsamic would be good on anything. Imagine if I had some good fruit. And the yogurt cheese, which was my contribution to a Bittman recipe, added its creamy, mellow tanginess and enough substance to make it a substantial snack or a light, light meal. Except for the sugar, this was pretty healthy, too.

Posted by Kim at 09:58 PM | Permalink

It didn't sound good to me. Jean-Georges Vongerichten and quick-fix food didn't seem like a realistic combination. But I was trying to get my mind off something else, so I clicked over to it.

I don't know if I'm on a hormone ride or what, but what I found made me kind of giddy. I think I actually giggled when I thought about making one of Vongerichten's Ovaltine or green tea popsicles or apple confit.

Posted by Kim at 12:32 PM | Permalink

My friend and I took a trip to Soho and the West Village this weekend, and we swung wide on our walk so we could visit Jacques Torres's chocolate shop on Hudson street. She was disappointed it wasn't more sophisticated; I was disappointed that I hadn't brought August along. This would be a perfect destination for a little kid with a sweet tooth. You can see a large chocolate-making operation going on around the perimeter of the retail shop; on Saturday bunnies, chickens and sheep were in the works, some the size of a mid-sized dog. There's a lot of floor space, a coffee-bar type counter, and even a kiddie table. Torres's offers some whimsical, kid-friendly chocolates, too, like chocolate-covered Cheerios, cornflakes and graham crackers, hot chocolate and chocolate lollipops. But I just think August would be tickled to see the works.

Posted by Kim at 02:30 PM | Permalink

Every once in a while I get on a meal-planning kick. I figure out what I'm going to make each day for lunch and dinner and then buy all the groceries at once. Often I fizzle out on my plans before I reach the end of the week and have a bunch of food left over that taunts me with its impending bad-ness. Or the grocery store (or delivery service) throws a wrench in the works by not having something in stock or sending me the wrong thing. Or I make too much of one thing and don't have a chance to eat leftovers because I have all these plans for other meals.

You just have to be really flexible and ready to adapt and eventually it just seems like too much effort. When the weather's nice I don't mind shopping every day and just making meals on the fly. But with slushy snow on the ground and a stroller that doesn't always fit into the six-inch-wide paths of cleared sidewalk, I'm trying again.

First I got messed up because Fresh Direct sent me parsnips instead of tomatillos for my chili. Can you imagine a turkey-parsnip chili? (Hmmm. Maybe I should've tried that one out.) I just used the canned tomatoes I was going to use for the fennel tomato soup. So now I have 4 parsnips and a whole bunch of fennel that I don't know what to do with.

I did make a pork tenderloin, broccoli and mashed potatoes. The pork went into tacos the next night, the broccoli will go into homemade calzones tomorrow, and I'm starting to think the potatoes would be good in a parsnip soup.

On top of all that, last night during the breaks in the Oscars I assembled a strata for some brunch guests I was expecting today. It sits in the refrigerator all night, bread soaking up custard, then bakes in the morning, until it's this beautiful, golden, puffy thing. But only one person would brave the weather, so now I have a big pan of the stuff and a son and husband unwilling to eat it. Maybe I'll post the recipe later. It was good.

Posted by Kim at 12:38 PM | Permalink

It's become high praise when Todd turns to me after trying what I've made for dinner and saying, "Are you going to write about this?" And finally, finally, one of Fresh Direct's one-click recipes has worked out for me. While browsing the FD web site, I decided I wanted to make a lamb stew, but didn't have a recipe. Yes! One-click had it.

I did cut down on the amount of stew I made, and I used antibiotic-free lamb. You start by dredging the cubed lamb in a mixture of flour, oregano, salt and pepper, then browning it in oil in a large dutch-oven. Removed it from the pot, then sauted 1 sliced onion, 4 carrots that I peeled and cut into 1-inch pieces and 4 crushed garlic cloves. The moisture from the veggies softens the browned bits on the bottom of the pot, then you add half a bottle of red wine, bring it to a simmer, add the stew meat, then bake in a 350 degree oven for 2 hours.

Posted by Kim at 08:49 PM | Permalink | Comments (2)

A couple of weeks ago I found this recipe on the Food Network recipe, and while the baby and Todd were at the playground I bought all the ingredients and prepared it. (It was so nice to be alone in the kitchen, making dinner, then have them come home, pink-cheeked and hungry.) I've discovered that both of my boys will eat fennel, especially with tomatoes, and that you can do everything wrong and still have it turn out all right.

I bought two pork chops, probably about an inch thick, then salted and peppered them and browned them on both sides. Then I took them out of the pan and added one sliced fennel bulb and a diced shallot. Once they started to soften, I added a 1/4 cup chicken stock and a 14-ounce can of diced tomatoes. Nestled the pok chops back in the pan and simmered them for about 12 minutes to cook them through. Then I added chopped fresh parsley, lemon zest and capers to the sauce and served the pork with the tomatoes and fennel spooned over the top.

The funny thing is, a couple days later I caught the episode of Everyday Italian when she was cooking this, and she really emphasized how you had to use 2-inch pork chops or they'd dry out and how important white wine (not chicken stock) was to the final flavor of the dish. So I did a whole bunch of things wrong (didn't use fennel fronds, either), and still ended up with something that we all really liked. Most cooking really is so forgiving.

Posted by Kim at 11:42 AM | Permalink

We just got back from the Penzey's at Grand Central and I have to confess a degree of disappointment. I had visions of spices stacked to the ceiling, and gorgeous fragrances emanating from big apothacary jars. Of course not, Kim. I didn't really expect THAT, but the rows of little glass jars was just too, uh?, sanitary?

It is fabulous to be able to buy Penzey's spices without having to pay those shipping charges. I picked up some oregano and almond extract, and now I can think of about three other things I wish I had gotten (pink peppercorns, candied ginger, dried chilis).

We also had a snack at the Little Pie Company downstairs. Couldn't turn down the sour cream-walnut apple pie, which is my favorite. And my coffee came with warmed, frothed milk.

Posted by Kim at 01:47 PM | Permalink

Why does the-ubiquitous-coffee-shop-that-shall-not-be-named tease me with seasonal offerings and then snatch them away once I'm addicted? My drink of choice had become a steamed milk with peppermint syrup (which is not as cloyingly sweet as some of the others), but apparently that was a holiday flavor that they no longer offer. How now to get my peppermint fix?

Then I found these peppermint marshmallows by Tiny Trapeze at Whole Foods. Melting over the top of a mug of heated, sweetened milk, it satisfies my craving. I'm not a big marshmallow fan, but these are pillowy-soft with a nice bite of mint to cut the sweetness. Todd and I started fantasizing about peppermint s'mores or a nice chocolate fondue dipper.

But at $5.99 for a bag of about a dozen medium-sized marshmallows that my husband has been popping all day like potato chips, they're not long for this house and not likely to make another appearance soon. That would involve braving the forbidding land of the shops at Columbus Circle with a stroller. I'll have to decide if it's worth enduring the stern looks. It might be.

Posted by Kim at 09:39 AM | Permalink

So let's see if I can remember how I made this; I think it was more than a week ago. I chopped up onions, cubanelle peppers and tomatillos and cooked them in olive oil until they were starting to get soft. I had never made a chili with tomatillos before, so I just treated them like regular tomatoes. Then I mixed in a lot of cumin, a little bit of ancho chile powder (I wanted August to eat some so I didn't want it too hot; ancho's pretty mild), salt, pepper and oregano. Cooked that a little, then added the shredded dark meat from the rotisserie chicken, some white beans and some chicken stock that I made from the chicken carcass (I was always really skeptical about making stock but it really is as easy as you always hear; I just covered the carcass with water and added a bay leaf and chunks of carrot and onion, which was what I had, then seasoned it at the end).

It was a big hit with Todd and August. I don't know if it was the peppers or the tomatillos that gave the chili a fresher taste than my usual chili.

Posted by Kim at 05:18 PM | Permalink

I'm a terrible googler. I've just spent an hour looking for a good food blog by a parent of a toddler; I want some recipe ideas. Right now my main challenge with August is to keep him from choking even though he only has four teeth (so chewing's not entirely natural for him). I'm also suddenly obsessed with things I've never thought much about before: pesticides on produce, hormones and antibiotics in meat, poultry, milk. Strong flavors are not necessarily out, but I'm pretty sure spicy foods are. If I spend more than 6 minutes at a time on something in the kitchen August starts to grab onto my knees.

I love to find things he loves, though. I get this canned low-mercury tuna from FD, and he devours it (even though tuna's kind of a strong flavor). He likes medium-flavored cheese (I haven't tried stinky cheese, but the mild stuff isn't so interesting to him). He loved the pumpkin spice cookies I made and the marbled butter cookie from the local bakery, hated packaged zweiback. Doesn't like mashed potatoes, but likes sweet potatoes and the potato croquettes friends brought for Thanksgiving dinner. Full-fat yogurt.

I've had success with frittatas, finger-friendly pastas (the one with tuna, peas and a little grated hard cheese was popular), meatballs. Simple baked white fish. Faux pho from The New American Cooking.

Posted by Kim at 08:43 PM | Permalink | Comments (7)

I've had a fantasy about August's first birthday since maybe even before he was born. A giddy baby smashing into his birthday cake, crumbs flying everywhere. Well, it turns out my boy is too demure for that. He delicately picked up his cake and took a bite out of it, then picked pieces off of it and put them in his mouth. Fortunately he smeared chocolate frosting all over his face in the process, so my fantasy was somewhat fulfilled.

What he really dug into with gusto was the baked mac and cheese I made for lunch that day. A pretty simple recipe, made with a pound of rotini and a basic bechamel with Cheddar, Monterey Jack (I wanted to make it mild-flavored for August) and locatelli. I tore up the breadcrumbs by hand because I didn't want to get out the food processor.

The chocolate frosting was actually pretty good, just a recipe off the back of the Hershey's cocoa powder container. 1/2 cup melted butter mixed with 2/3 cup cocoa powder, then 1/3 cup of milk alternately with 3 cups powdered sugar. Add powdered sugar or milk to get desired consistency, then add 1 teaspoon vanilla.

Posted by Kim at 07:15 PM | Permalink

We spent last week in the Finger Lakes, and I made it into a gigantic shopping trip, so we came home with a huge load of food:

Red Jacket Orchard turned out to be a farmstand on an ugly stretch of commercial highway, but I did pick up some apples, maple syrup and a New Hope Mills whole wheat pancake mix. It was our first stop and these items were my priority.

Arbor Hill Grapery was pretty touristy and commercial, but we tasted some things we liked there, including their classic traminette, a wine grape developed, I think, at Cornell specifically for the region (which is temperate because of all the lakes) from the Gewurztraminer grape. To me this seems even more drinkable than the Alsatian wine (which I like), spicy and fruity and really easy going down. We also got some Gewurtz jelly and balsamic-style vinegar.

One of my favorite stops was at Bellwether (hard cider), where the proprieter apologized for not being dressed up because they were bottling on the day I visited and then told me about Johnny Appleseed, who was basically a bootlegger, planting apple seeds for hard cider (since apples from seeds are unreliable and rarely edible). We brought home a bottle of his Liberty Spy Hard Cider and some peach-tamarind chutney.

Maybe part of the reason I enjoyed Bellwether so much was because the day before we stopped at Belhurst castle and tried some of their wines. The woman doing the tasting rushed me to choose what I wanted to try, and when she left mid-tasting the man who took over gave me the same spiel, verbatim. Just employees, and it felt like it. I bought a bottle there anyway; meant to get a cabernet franc and picked up a merlot by mistake, which I hadn't even tried.

Todd took a tour of the Ommegang brewery (while I sat in the car with the sleeping baby) and bought a giant bottle of the Abby Ale, which he had tried in a restaurant the night before and loved. Really smooth (it didn't give me that bitter beer shiver I usually get).

The New Hope Mills factory shop isn't much to look at, and after hunting it down we felt like fools until I went inside. Dollar bags of oatmeal, ground almonds, steel-cut oats and other flours. I also got cornmeal and, because we needed a snack, s'mores snack mix, maltballs and dried fruit.

We missed the grape festival in Naples by just a few days, so I had to pick up some grape cookies (Todd says they're like fig newtons, but I thought they were more like soft sugar cookies folded in half over a grape filling), peaches and gourds at Joseph's Wayside Stand.

At the Cooperstown farmers' market I rounded out my shopping with a tomato, zucchini, eggplant, buttercup squash and an English tea cakes sampler, which included a Welsh cookie, which looked like a scone but crumbled like a cookie, and three tarts: lemon, pecan and almond-cake. Also got a sunshine squash (or something like that) at the farmers' market in Ithaca.

Posted by Kim at 01:14 PM | Permalink | Comments (2)

This is from Everyday Italian, and I like it because it's not loaded with a ton of different ingredients (most antipasto salads seem to have ingredients lists that are a page long!). In fact, with a few substitutions I had everything I needed in my kitchen. I made a vinaigrette out of red wine vinegar, mustard, salt, pepper and olive oil, and tossed that with bibb lettuce I had torn bite-sized. Then I added white beans, a cut-up tomato, strips of hot coppa and small cubes of a really sharp but still creamy aged provolone. Gave that a gentle toss (so all the heavy stuff would be incorporated but not end up on the bottom), then served. It was pretty, too.

Posted by Kim at 08:13 AM | Permalink

I know, I've got to stop complaining about all the great places Todd gets to go, but this time it was London and the free time he had was totally wasted on him. He still picks up my treats at the airport, which has worked out great for me so far, but I need to start researching things for him to bring me from London. (Any ideas?)

He always goes for the cool packaging. This time it was so-so chocolate-covered hazelnuts but really fantastic candied orange slices dipped in dark chocolate. Also a dark chocolate bar with orange and cardamom that I haven't tried yet, all from a Glasgow shop (with a London satellite) that specializes in Belgian chocolate, Kshocolat.

Posted by Kim at 12:17 PM | Permalink

Todd's been doing a lot of client-entertaining lately, which means he gets to go out to eat at all the places I'm missing out on. It was particularly depressing last Monday, when August first came down with an ailment that I'm only willing to talk to other new parents about. Todd took his clients to Stella, which is just a block away from where I used to work and one of those places that gives you a thousand little treats with your drinks. (Sob.)

But he brought home a little dessert just for me, a fruit tart with so-so strawberries but the best blackberries I've tasted. Sitting on the floor in the living room, watching my baby boy hold his unsteady balance over his activity table and enjoying my treat, I felt lucky again. But I think there should be a law that spouses who get to go out for great meals for business while their beloveds sit at home should get a little something for them. It could be a new restaraunt trend -- they could provide something that will make the trip home intact and be cozy as a midnight snack or maybe even taste better warmed up the next day. (I know a few restaurants were doing this, but it certainly needs to become more widespread.)

Posted by Kim at 03:06 PM | Permalink

I made this a couple of weeks ago and it has stayed good and served me well. I started out eating it on bruschetta, but since then I've put it on a sandwich and eaten it with chicken paillard. I think it'd also be good tossed with pasta, which may be lunch tomorrow. Or in an omelet or over eggs? It's a pretty green color, too.

I used picholine olives, already pitted. About 2 cups in the food processor with capers, parsley, lemon zest and juice. Processed until it was finely chopped, then drizzled in olive oil until it was holding together.

Posted by Kim at 11:25 AM | Permalink

We went to New Paltz for the weekend to see a photography exhibit at SUNY's new gallery. It's a gorgeous gallery, huge, and the photography exhibit, which is primarily from the school's collection and is around the theme of materiality, is worth the trip. Especially if strawberries are in season and you stop by Dressel Farms on 208 and buy some that were just picked, then sit in your hot car in front of the stand eating the warm, red-red berries. I bought extra to do some baking and some heavy cream to accompany them tonight, too.

We also stayed at a B&B, Country Meadows, and I had some great French toast on Sunday morning. The owner, Judy, crusted the toast with some cranberry-almond flake cereal that had taken a ride in a food processor. She grated a bit of whole orange (rind and all) into some heavy cream with an egg mixed in, soaked Italian bread slices briefly in it, then patted the slices in the cereal crumbs. Cooked it in butter like regular French toast. It didn't even need any adornment, and was really good, with the crunchy crust a nice contrast to the creamy center. Todd's scrambled eggs had chives and herbs cut that morning from pots out front.

It really was a great place to visit. With all the farms and wineries around the food available is so fresh and thoughful. We ate at The Village Tearoom, and I had an arugula salad with local cheddar cheese and mustard vinaigrette. We went there to have their afternoon tea but decided it was just too hot for that (so now we have to go back). We did take some cookies (checkerboard, pecan tassie and gingersnap) with us for a nighttime snack after August had gone to bed.

We also did a bit of wine tasting and bought some bottles. And Todd took some great photos. Whew! And it's only June, so the fantastic parade of flavors is just beginning.

Posted by Kim at 09:29 AM | Permalink | Comments (2)

We have been finding it very difficult to stick to our budget lately, and part of the problem is that I go on these "errands" every morning (an excuse to take August for a walk) and I always encounter something I must buy: a wonderful shortbread, caramel, chocolate and pecan confection from Bonelle bakery, cheap avocados at the fruit stand, some redolent grating cheese, banana ice cream at Eddie's.

Well, I've done it again. I had $7 in my pocket to last today and tomorrow and instead of buying the milk and butter we needed I sprang for some first peaches and fragrant strawberries. Now instead of the cornmeal cake I've been putting off (not enough butter), I think I'll make a peach-apricot crumble.

Posted by Kim at 10:10 AM | Permalink | Comments (1)

I ordered a 99 cent bunch of rosemary from Fresh Direct this weekend and this is what I got. So now I'm on the hunt for lots of rosemary recipes. Last night I marinated a pork tenderloin with balsamic and cider vinegar, olive oil, rosemary, garlic, mustard and maple syrup. Today I'm going to try to make crisp rosemary breadsticks. I also want to make a rosemary dessert: maybe a cornmeal cake with rosemary syrup or a custard-type dish like pot de creme. What I feel like I should do is slaughter a lamb and dig a roasting pit out in the middle of Yellowstone Blvd.

Posted by Kim at 09:34 AM | Permalink | Comments (2)

These chocolate figs were part of my Zingerman's order. Chocolate-coated figs with a boozy chocolate ganache center. Not as figgy as I had hoped, but still yum.

Posted by Kim at 05:03 PM | Permalink

I know I've been writing a lot about the foods I bought and less about what I've made lately, but Zingerman's web site has one of the best features I've seen on an e-commerce site. When you're placing your order and get to the shipping charges, the site tells you how much more you can spend while paying the same shipping charges (the shipping charges always feel shocking to me when I purchase food that way, so I'm glad to pile more goodies on, get more for my money). When you click on the hyperlinked text, you get a list of what you can afford to add to your order. I added some Spanish chorizo to my order of ganache-filled figs and pecan-raisin bread.

So far I've made scrambled eggs with chorizo and a chorizo, kale and potato soup. For the soup I sauteed a diced onion with some diced chorizo, then added two cut-up red potatoes and a huge pile of kale. Poured in some water and added chicken soup base from Penzey's, a bay leaf, a couple sprigs of thyme, salt, pepper and some red pepper flakes. Boiled until the potatoes were cooked then removed the bay leaf and thyme.

With the rest of it I think I'm going to simply made skewers of chorizo served with a chimichurri-type sauce.

Posted by Kim at 07:13 PM | Permalink

Todd's grandmother died recently, and while Todd's mom was going through some of her things she found this cookbook and thought of me. It's a relic of the early sixties, but it has a refreshing and honest (and sometimes amusingly dated) view of cooking and hostessing, with tons of make-ahead advice. I've only made one thing from it so far, but it isn't the recipes that I find appealing. Stories and tips (such as how to decide what to serve for a balanced and easy-to-eat buffet) are sprinkled throughout the book without feeling like essays or forced intros to the recipes. It's fun to curl up with and read.

The recipe I did make was au gratin potatoes, and the main thing I learned from it is it's not that hard and you don't need a mandoline. I would actually use a different recipe next time, because you sprinkle flour on each layer in this one to thicken the sauce but it actually just makes curdled-looking squiggles (it was tasty, though). I think Julia has some wonderful herb-infused milk potato recipes.

Posted by Kim at 11:19 AM | Permalink | Comments (1)

The little town I grew up in is not so little anymore, and it has two major chain supermarkets that sit across Main Street from each other, Safeway and King Soopers.

I found a great Mexican-food section in the King Soopers, though. Cans of dulche de leche, dried chilis, five pound bags of masa harina. I brought home some Mexican chocolate for hot cocoa and a chorizo spice packet. A comparative tasting of hot chocolates to come.

Posted by Kim at 06:29 PM | Permalink

Todd's been in the doghouse the last few weeks - until this weekend he hadn't had a day off for about a month. Then he took a trip to Finland for business, which is why I took a trip home to Colorado.

But while I was staring at a cupboard full of meal replacement bars and drinks at my parents', Todd was eating a Scandinavian meal at a nice place in Helsinki. Fortunately for our marriage, the Helsinki airport offers a good selection of food gifts. He brought me some caramels and birch syrup, which I guess is the equivalent of maple syrup, although I did notice it starts with a sugar syrup and then adds the birch stuff.

I have to admire the Finn's package designs, at least. I reserve judgement on the food itself.

Posted by Kim at 06:23 PM | Permalink

I spent the last few days in Colorado with my parents and for my last night there I decided to make the lamb in the previous post. They had really liked their first taste of lamb, the lamb pitas we had the last time they visited.

Then my brother and his wife said they'd like to come, but she doesn't like the idea of eating baby sheep, so I added a chickpea stew to the menu (identical to the chickpea soup without the stock, water and bouillon). To round out the meal I added some roasted zucchini and dates and mint tea for dessert. I piled the lamb on a bed of couscous.

My dad and I prepared it together: shopping for ingredients, preparing the spice mix and prepping the meat in advance, chopping, sauteeing, etc. Last Chistmas I lamented not having someone to cook with, and now I have someone! And it's so gratifying to cook for a group of folks, and introduce them to new flavors.

Todd was in Finland while I was in Colorado, and that's inspired me to try a Scandinavian menu next. I wonder if I stll have that Aquavit galley floating around?

Posted by Kim at 03:00 PM | Permalink

I had a weird confluence of reading material sent my way last week. One former coworker sent me the new Ruth Reichl book, Garlic and Sapphires, and another sent me an interview with William Grimes that was in Newsweek when Grimes resigned as restaurant critic (the coworker ran across it while doing some research). Then there was an article in the Times about the loathing restaurant workers feel toward diners. They just all drove home to me the weird interaction between diners and the restaurants they go to.

When Reichl was offered the job as the New York Times’ new restaurant critic, she said the Times should be writing reviews not for people who will go to the restaurants but for those who may never set foot in them. Yet throughout her new book is evidence that she does feel responsibility toward the more disenfranchised of the dining public to portray an honest picture, because they will act on her advice. No doubt her ability to write food porn would have been better if she had shown up to restaurants as herself and let them lavish her with their best efforts. Instead she became the kind of characters who often receive servers’ scorn.

It makes sense, but I never realized high-profile reviewers would go to such lengths to disguise their identities. One of the pleasures of the book is Reichl’s exploration of how her various disguises affected her. I ate it up.

But it strikes me as odd that restaurants are willing to create such an artificial experience for reviewers, and therefore artificially high expectations for their diners. In her book Reichl describes an instance when one of her guests paid the check for the couple sitting next to them, who obviously had saved their money to go to what reviews had called one of the most romantic restaurants in the city. It also served about the worst food and had treated the young couple very badly. That's a familiar scenario.

It's kind of terrible that eating at a great restaurant is for a lot of people an entirely uncomfortable experience that they're paying a huge amount of money to have.

Posted by Kim at 08:51 AM | Permalink

In addition to the cassoulet and cake, we had a simple salad on my birthday: just romaine, vinaigrette and some grated Parm from my Zingerman's box. And I'm eating the salad and thinking it's one of the best I've had, but I can't figure out why. The flavor was full and mellow, almost thick and buttery. Then I realized it was the cheese.

Maybe it was some special alchemy with the sweet, thick balsamic I used in the dressing. I even felt weird about the combo, but it stood up. All that richness worked beautifully with the hearty, crisp romaine.

As a followup to my previous post: the cassoulet was good, and the cake was dense and moist, better than their sometimes dry cupcakes. As for the frosting, a little goes a long way since it is almost pure butter, too rich. Every plate always ends up with a smeary gob left on it.

Posted by Kim at 01:06 PM | Permalink | Comments (1)

How excited would you be if this box arrived just days before your birthday? I persuaded Todd that it had to be opened immediately because of the perishables sticker on it. Of course, Todd knew what was in it, and that most of it wasn't perishable, but he let me open it anyway.

One of the few perishables in the box was a big loaf of Zingerman's paesano bread, with a thick, crusty crust and soft interior with huge holes. Zingerman's is a collection of foodie shops (bakery, creamery, deli, etc.) in Ann Arbor; I have the book Zingerman's Guide to Good Eating, which is broken into chapters on things like olive oil, honey, cheese, etc. and explains how they're made and what makes them great. It's the perfect book for someone who doesn't like to cook. It's good for cooks, too, but it teaches how to buy such great ingredients that you hardly have to do any cooking at all to make an impressive spread. Zingerman's also does a lot of mail-order from their web site.

Posted by Kim at 12:31 PM | Permalink | Comments (1)

I think I may have inspired my dad to spend more time in the kitchen. He came to stay with us when I had the baby, and part of the deal was that he had to help out: cooking, running errands, cleaning. I couldn't imagine he would hold up his end of the bargain. My dad didn't seem like the type.

But he really rose to the occasion. He scrubbed the spot on the kitchen floor where my old stove used to sit until you could actually see the floor underneath. He made spaghetti, eggs, Thanksgiving dinner with pumpkin pie and mashed potatoes. I guess he went home to Colorado and made a roast for my mom, brother and sister-in-law, and a couple more pies.

Now he's back and he's still cooking and cleaning. We made jambalaya last night (I was his sous-chef).

He's semi-retired and I think he's found a new hobby. Maybe my interest in cooking is genetic?

Posted by Kim at 06:34 PM | Permalink | Comments (1)

One of the problems of shopping Fresh Direct is that sometimes you'll order some meat or produce and end up with a cut that weighs way more than you expect. We got a 3-pound cut of London broil in our order the other day, and I had to come up with multiple uses for it.

So yesterday I cut it into three portions: sliced one thinly against the grain for fajitas, cut one into cubes for beef stew and left one whole for shredded beef sandwiches from the slow cooker.

We made the fajitas right away. Seasoned the meat with salt, cumin and chipotle powder and seared them on both sides. Took those out of the pan then added a sliced onion and red bell pepper and cooked until softened. Assembled the fajitas on warmed flour tortillas with cheese and Mrs. Renfro's chile sauce, which is really hot but also has great flavor.

Yesterday I put the chunk of beef in the slow cooker with some seasonings, 1/2 cup water and a sliced-up onion until it was falling apart and the onion was completely soft. Ate that on halved seeded Italian bread with Swiss cheese on top (the bread soaks up a lot of the juices from the meat -- yum).

Tonight is beef stew night. Lucky Todd's a beef-and-potatoes kind of guy.

Posted by Kim at 10:32 PM | Permalink

Last night when I asked, "What should we have for dinner?" Todd realized that he doesn't think of the kitchen when I ask that question; he thinks of the phone and the pile of takeout menus on the desk. And I have discovered that I really hate most takeout.

So the other night I pulled together dinner from what we happened to have on hand: some broccoli, elbow macaroni and strips of chicken from the top of a salad we ordered for lunch. While the macaroni cooked I heated about 1/4 cup oil in a skillet and added some red pepper flakes, then some minced garlic. Then I added the broccoli florets and sauteed them, then the chicken just to heat through. Then I spooned in the macaroni along with some of the cooking water into the skillet, added salt and stirred and heated to meld the flavors. Served it with Parmesan grated on top.

Posted by Kim at 10:46 AM | Permalink | Comments (1)

So October 24 came and went and no terrine. I had bought all the ingredients, picked out a recipe for something that was at least layered (a ragu and polenta "terrine," layered then baked and served hot). But crises at work, the arrival of my parents for a visit then Todd's, and the exhaustion of late pregnancy foiled me.

My dad made "chili soup" out of the ingredients that would spoil. I guess to a lot of people "chili" is not really a type of soup, more of a stew (which I would also considered a type of soup). The chili soup I had growing up always had onions and peppers, ground beef, kidney beans, spices and a lot of tomato juice to make it soupy. Even now my dad had to improvise and add a couple serving-size cans of V8 to the whole tomatoes in juice I had him break into the chili.

Posted by Kim at 11:41 AM | Permalink

We have a column in the magazine called Quick Cook, and after dinner a couple of nights ago I realized that's what I've become. A 30-Minute-Meal-er. A Quick Cook. I think things are about to slow down in my life, but for the past couple of months meals have consisted of whatever I can throw together and eat in the 45-minute window I have before I need to rush off someplace.

Pork tenderloin is a great quick meal. The other night I got home about 15 minutes before I needed to leave for a doctor appointment (the doctor's right across the street), so I mixed a spice rub I had received as a gift (it had fennel, something spicy, cinnamon and lots of other things I can't remember) with a couple tablespoons of olive oil, then slathered that over the pork. Cubed up a sweet potato and tossed it with the spice mix and olive oil for me, then did the same thing with a white potato and just salt, pepper and olive oil for Todd. Arranged them all on a foil-lined rimmed baking sheet, covered it with more foil then popped it in the fridge. When I got home from my appointment, I got out the pan, preheated the oven to 450 degrees, then cooked the pork and potatoes for 20 minutes, plenty of time to reach that safe-food temperature I need.

And it was still tender, despite the lack of pink in the center. Hence the name, I guess.

Posted by Kim at 09:35 AM | Permalink

We have a car, so now we're free to shop anywhere! I have so many options that I'm kind of at a loss: Whole Foods in Manhasset, Costco, B.J.'s, Trader Joe's. Where do you like to shop? (Especially in the Queens area, but overall, too.)

Posted by Kim at 09:37 AM | Permalink | Comments (4)

I'm so glad I got the new NYC Gourmet Marketplace in the mail. I had no idea what a wealth of food shopping was available to me right around work. These are the places I've decided to try:

I'm going to send Todd to Good & Plenty to Go and the Little Pie Company for some prepared food and a 2-person pie next time I don't know what to make for dinner. Maybe for a special occasion I'll pick up some steak at Le Marais.

And there's a wealth of bakeries: in addition to Amy's Bread and Cupcake, which we already frequent, there's Poseidon (I think I may have been there for cannolis that are filled to order), Pazzo, Ruthy's and an outpost of Sullivan Street.

Posted by Kim at 08:22 PM | Permalink

Is anyone addicted to Serendipity 3's frrrozen hot chocolate? I've had it before, but it's actually hard for me to forgo the other delights they offer and have it when I'm there. But I went to a book launch there this week and they passed small servings (a relative term) of it around on trays, and it was suddenly the perfect thing for a summer day. Richly, deeply chocolatey, with this wonderful slushy coolness of ice. I kind of regretted the sundae I had just had (I don't care what the pregnancy police say; baby loves sugar - although I try to limit myself to one sweet a day).

They sent us home with the mix they sell, and we made it last night. It's just 1 cup of milk, the packet of mix and 3 cups of ice in a blender. It's so good. I can't even tell you that it's not quite as good as the restaurant's, because I couldn't tell much of a difference. The packet says serves two, but it's so rich you could easily get four servings out of it.

The packet just contains sugar, nonfat dried milk, dextrose and cocoa, so maybe it's reproducable at home. I wonder if the recipe's in the dessert cookbook for the restaurant that they just released?

Posted by Kim at 07:42 AM | Permalink | Comments (1)

I was going to skip writing about this because, although it was quite good, it's not really "cooking." Then I got an issue of Real Simple in the mail with the coverline "The Easiest Dinner Ever," a story all about sandwiches for dinner. I've been redeemed!

Although the recipes they include are for substantial sandwiches, and mine was of the lunchbox variety: almond butter and apple slices on whole-wheat bread. It was just so good, though, you don't understand. I love the crunch of the apples in the sandwich (although I'm a fan of nut butter and banana sandwiches, too). Very schooldays.

Posted by Kim at 04:00 PM | Permalink

I cannot get this right! The focaccia I made this weekend was bland, flat, chewy, gross. I can't bring myself to throw it out, but I'm going to have Todd do it.

I think the flavor is easy to remedy: add more salt. And I was pretty optimistic about the texture, too. The dough was really sticky, but it had this nice, bubbly look to it. I think the problem might have been that the recipe called for a lot of sauteed vegetables scattered over the top, which didn't let the bread rise in the oven at all (and may have flattened it a bit). The edges were nice, though kind of hard (I think I cooked it too long to try to get the top that was under vegetables to be more brown and less pasty-white).

Should I try this recipe again? Or give a different one a try? Does sticky dough sound right?

Posted by Kim at 04:00 PM | Permalink | Comments (4)

It's hard to imagine being nauseated for seven weeks, isn't it? It was for me 10 weeks ago, when, just a few days after finding out that I was pregnant, the nausea started. I'm excited about being pregnant (we had wanted this for a while), but I never imagined how it would rob me of one of my favorite hobbies, this blog. I've been eating to keep my stomach settled, my weight up, and not with the pleasure or curiosity I used to have. At points I couldn't imagine ever being interested in food again, and the only "cooking" I could handle was putting my breakfast in the toaster.

The worst of the nausea has passed, but I'm still not 100 percent back in the kitchen, as I'm sure anyone who has read this for a while can tell. And even eating out can be a minefield. Never excitedly say to a pregnant woman, "Now you can eat whatever you want!" It simply isn't true. Meat has to be cooked to the point of inedibility (to my mind anything past medium-rare qualifies), there are fish with too much mercury, soft cheeses and deli meats could give the baby listeria, no raw fish (I've been eating California rolls). Peanuts could cause a severe allergy if there's a history of allergy in your family. My favorite diner breakfast, eggs over easy, is off limits. (By the way, I'm not a scientist, so don't take what's written here as the last word. I'm feeling neurotic and super-cautious about this whole thing, and the Internet is a blessing and a curse of too much information.)

It's been one of the most frustrating things about being pregnant, suddenly being in a high-risk group with young children and the elderly. Just as frustrating as discovering nothing in my closet fits. So, whoohoo, I'm gaining weight at an alarming rate, but I don't get to enjoy it as much as I should be. Poor me.

Posted by Kim at 08:06 AM | Permalink | Comments (5)

I had the strangest dream this morning, but I know where it came from. Todd and I had just settled into a booth at some restaurant I don't recognize with the newspaper, planning to order breakfast. Some woman, a manager or something approached us and asked us if we'd be more comfortable at one of the tables at the center of the room. Todd said no, he'd like to read the paper and the booths had the best lighting. She insisted, so we gathered our water and coffee cups and followed her. I was kind of annoyed, and so she asked if anything was wrong. I explained, saying the place wasn't busy and I didn't understand why she was arbitrarily moving us. She turned to me and said, "You knew exactly what you were doing when the hostess seated you," suggesting that we had lied to sit at a booth. It was bizarre, because we hadn't. But it was pretty realistic. What is with the whole seating game at restaurants? Is it just snotty hosts and hostesses, or is there some secret math that only people who have worked at restaurants know? At most places we eat regularly, if the place is empty they seat us at one of the comfortable tables. But at Market Cafe, near Todd's office, the place'll be completely empty and they'll try to give us a table in the middle row, where you're constantly bumped by people walking by, instead of a table along the wall. They always let us sit along the wall when we ask, but why do they always try to stick us in the worst seat? (By the way, the waitstaff there is pretty nice otherwise. Maybe there is some "rule"?)

The reason I had the dream is that a coworker had a weird experience at the new Outback in Chelsea. He went in a little more than an hour before closing and requested a booth in the bar, but the hostess said she could only give him a table, so he accepted. But he got increasingly annoyed when he realized, while some booths were occupied, there were a handful empty. He had wanted a booth, with better lighting, so he could read. So close to closing, why couldn't the hostess accommodate his request? She even stared blankly at him, offering no help at all, when he complained.

Posted by Kim at 05:56 AM | Permalink | Comments (4)

Yes I did. Todd was at class last night, so I had a bowl of oatmeal for dinner. I always used to prefer very dry oatmeal, with a rougher texture. I usually use about half the liquid the box calls for (a 1 to 1 liquid/oats ratio instead of 2 to 1). But it seems as though a lot of my food preferences are changing lately, and I even like my oatmeal a little more liquidy these days. The bowl I had last night was so creamy and satisfying.

I started to bring 1 cup of milk to a boil in a small saucepan, but then I got worried the milk would scald so I added the 1/2 cup oats. Brought that to a boil and let it bubble 5 minutes, stirring the whole time. Then I added some brown sugar, cinnamon and blueberries. Let the heat of the oatmeal kind of cook the berries until they were warm and some of them burst, then ate.

Posted by Kim at 04:43 PM | Permalink

I bought a quarter of a watermelon the other day, and have thoroughly enjoyed having it all to myself because Todd does not like watermelon (which is so improbable to me that I actually bothered to ask him why - futile). It reminded me, though, of a salad someone made for supper club. I remember being quite skeptical as she started pulling together the two main ingredients: watermelon and feta. But it was really wonderful, the salty feta contrasting beautifully with the sweet, wet watermelon. I have a theory that in one bite it creates and quenches a thirst in you. Nigella Lawson has a recipe in Forever Summer that has a bunch of other stuff: olives, parsley, red onion, lime, mint, pepper. I can't remember what Sam's had, but I do think tossing together a little lime juice, some cubed or crumbled feta and some chunks of watermelon would be yummy. Maybe I'd add a little ground cayenne or chipotle for heat, although that may be going too far.

Posted by Kim at 02:24 PM | Permalink | Comments (1)

This may strike everyone reading this blog as remarkably obvious, but every now and again, I'm struck by how easy cooking can be. I'm not talking fancy cooking here, I'm talking about one step up from takeout. And that's an important step.

Last night I was faced with a mixed bag of ingredients in the fridge and neither Kim or I had much inclination to cook. But Kim had thought ahead and planned quick fajitas using some leftover chicken from Boston Market (yes, we've been eating more takeout of late.) Within a few minutes she'd chopped green peppers and onions and I sautéed them with some chipotle powder, chili powder and cumin plus a little salt and black pepper. A couple of minutes on low heat and the chicken Kim shredded was ready to go in. Flour tortillas wrapped in aluminum foil go in the oven on low heat. A few more minutes and we're chowing down on chicken/onion/peppers wrapped in a soft, warm tortilla.

It all seems so easy since at I write this I realize all I did was shake the skillet a few times. Now, coming up with the menu - that's hard. I leave that to Kim.

Posted by Todd W. at 08:37 AM | Permalink

Todd has some opinions on America's celebrity chefs competing on Iron Chef:

Shame on me for thinking they'd make it a bout for the ages. Walking through the subway the other day, I noticed a series of large ads for Iron Chef America with Bobby Flay, Wolfgang Puck and Mario Batali prominantly featured. As you can see, each is armed with the blunt intrument of his choice (Flay's monster-sized meat tenderizer is hidden behind the logo).

Where I made my mistake was thinking that it'd be entirely American chefs competing against one another. I was already rubbing my hands in glee envisioning Emeril Lagasse hitting the mat from a body blow delivered by Batali or Tony Bourdain. Alas, it's not to be as Flay, Puck, and Batali will be pitted against the same old Iron Chefs that always do battle in Kitchen Stadium. After a preview I saw late on Friday night, the whole thing looks pretty tired and Bobby Flay looked impatient to pick up his paycheck as he took down Iron Chef French with some oversized lobster.

Oddly, the Web site lists Alton Brown under the "Bio" section. Could there be a surprise appearance by the Good Eats host? I'm skeptical how well he'd do. By the time Iron Chef Japanese was finishing off his menu, Alton would just be getting back from the hardware store with a collection of MacGuyver-ized cooking implements.

Posted by Todd W. at 08:45 AM | Permalink | Comments (2)

The phone rings at 11:30 last night, and again at 9:30 this morning. It's an automated call from Fresh Direct, letting us know our very first order will not be delivered today because of a power outage and that we need to re-place the order. The timing of the calls makes me think they wanted to make sure to get us out of bed, whether we're early to bed or late sleepers.

It was pretty easy to re-place the order, though. We'll see if the delivery goes smoothly. I've been waiting so long for them to get to my neighborhood that I won't believe it worked until they arrive on my doorstep. (When the service started, they said six months. Needless to say it's been longer. I'm still excited about it, though.)

Posted by Kim at 09:07 PM | Permalink

My parents were in town last weekend, and we went to the Natural History Museum to check out the new ocean life room. In the gift shop they had some chocolate left over from their big chocolate exhibit, so I bought some Vosges Haut-Chocolat: Red Fire, with ancho and chipotle chiles and cinnamon. I was kind of disappointed, though; it tasted like a red hot to me.

It also kind of reminded me of my uncle Larry's cinnamon schnapps. He probably uses red hots to make it. It's fabulous, if I remember correctly: the heat from the cinnamon flavor and the bite of the alcohol. I added a little chipotle powder to my last mug of hot chocolate, and I liked that better than the Vosges chocolate, too. The temperature heat and the flavor heat combine for an intense experience.

Anyway, there were two other Vosges flavors I want to try: curry and coconut with milk chocolate (Naga), and ginger, wasabi and black sesame seeds with dark chocolate (Black Pearl).

Posted by Kim at 09:38 AM | Permalink | Comments (1)

was a cream puff from Beard Papa's. But with my parents and an impatient Todd in tow, it was impossible to justify standing in a line that stretched all the way to the end of the block. (Had I been alone, and not in a big hurry, I would have waited, because I wanted to see if it was worth it.)

So I made some of my own when I got home. I remember making cream puffs for a progressive dinner in college, then filling them with pudding or ice cream. You start by bringing 1 cup water, 1/2 cup butter and a pinch of salt to a boil. Add 1 cup flour all at once, then stir until it forms a ball. Let sit 10 minutes, then add 4 eggs, one at a time, stirring each egg into the dough completely before adding the next. Place heaping teaspoons on a greased or silpat-lined baking sheet 3 inches apart and bake at 400 degrees for 30 minutes. Easy.

It was an OK dessert for my diabetic father, too, because I filled his with sugar-free pudding (the rest of us had regular pudding). For something fancier, I'd make a pastry cream (which is what I bet Beard Papa does).

Posted by Kim at 11:29 AM | Permalink | Comments (1)

This seems to be a theme for me lately: produce that presents itself as a puzzle, a difficult safe that one must figure out how to crack. The second artichoke I had, the one I steamed one day then ate cold from the refrigerator the next, made me relent and decide that, dipped in a good vinaigrette, it was worth it. The bowl of plain yogurt and diced fresh pineapple I just had has made me change my mind about what I had believed was a waste of time.

First, the pineapple Todd picked out was pretty green, but I found online that as long as it has some yellow or red at the bottom (which ours did) you can ripen it on your counter, upside down (I think it was NBC's Produce Pete who gave me that tip). It's almost as though the ripeness gradually runs down the pineapple, and over the course of a few days the pineapple turned yellow, from the bottom (which was on top) to the top (I had perched the pineapple on of that tuft of stiff leaves that come out the top).

Once it's ripe, you slice off the top and bottom, then the tough exterior. Then there are all those eyes; I had seen people on TV find the rows of eyes and cut out a row at a time, which I did, then picked out the rest. It's not a quick job, though, whatever TV chefs may say. Mine also had all these little seeds embedded in it, and so I took out as many of those as I could. Then I quartered it lengthwise, cut out the fibrous core and chopped it into chunks.

I diced a bit up and mixed it with plain yogurt: sweet with the tang from the yogurt, smooth creaminess with the juicy, slighty fibrous pieces.

Posted by Kim at 12:46 PM | Permalink | Comments (2)

My parents are coming for a visit this weekend, and I've invited some friends over for dessert one night to meet them. The problem I'm facing is that my dad is diabetic, and I want to make something he can enjoy with the rest of us. I've read some positive information on Splenda, the sweetener made from a modified sugar molecule that can be substituted at a 1:1 ratio for sugar in recipes where the sugar isn't the basis of texture or browning.

But I've also read a few negative things about Splenda, a few side effects and complaints that there haven't been enough studies. But on one of these sites, the person claims suclarose (Splenda) is about 600 times as sweet as sugar (which is not what the Splenda web site says). There are other seeming discrepancies between the negative Splenda sites and the official Splenda site.

Am I being too careful? I wouldn't consider using something like Splenda if it weren't for my father's diabetes (I'm a firm believer in real butter, full-fat cream, real maple syrup, in moderation). If it were summer I'd serve fresh berries topped with whipped cream or balsamic vinegar. Are there any options like that for very early spring?

I'm considering making a rustic apple tart by tossing the apples with a little Splenda (that's probably what I'll do).

Posted by Kim at 09:00 AM | Permalink | Comments (7)

We had lots of leftovers after a weekend of company, so we've been eating sandwiches for practically every meal. I don't object, though, because a sandwich can be catered to the individual diner, and that means I get to have whatever weird ingredients on it I want.

Monday night we had smoked turkey sandwiches on 7-grain sandwich bread, and I always add a lot of chutney because I think it goes so well with the smokiness.

Yesterday for lunch I spread salt-cod puree (brandade) on a baguette that I had sliced lengthwise and toasted, then topped it with roasted peppers.

Last night we toasted onion rolls, then topped them with heated, sliced roast beef in the sauce and Swiss cheese, then put them back under the broiler to melt the cheese. I ate mine open-face with more sauce; Todd put the top on and ate it as a sandwich.

I think we're both sandwiched out now, though. Maybe pasta, a quesadilla or a fritatta to keep working on those leftovers.

Posted by Kim at 12:11 PM | Permalink | Comments (2)

We would've thrown the poor thing out if we didn't have one of those digital thermometers to tell us that the inside was perfectly cooked, medium rare. The outside was charred in places and red in others, like it was raw (I still don't know what that was, but it wasn't raw). I instructed Todd to slice it up and put it on the serving platter, so our guests wouldn't see the horrible looking chunk of meat - and then what does he do but take it out to the table and slice it up in front of everyone! But the slices looked so nice and pink inside that everyone forgave the roast its disgusting exterior.

The sauce was awesome, too. I was skeptical about the burned fond at the bottom of the roasting pan making anything but a charcoal-tasting sauce, but when I smelled the pan it actually smelled rich and meaty, so I went ahead, with great results. Added butter, then 1/4 a finely diced onion, sauteed it until the onion started to brown, then added 1 cup of the red wine we were drinking, let that cook a bit, then added 1 cup chicken broth. Reduced that a bit, then whisked in 1/2-tablespoon-size chunks of butter (6 of them), one at a time, until it was a smooth sauce.

Posted by Kim at 04:33 PM | Permalink

Chocolate cream pie with a meringue topping is a two person job (especially if you don't have a standing mixer, although women for years made it without one). One of the key elements of putting the whole thing together is to spread the freshly whipped meringue over a piping-hot filling, so the meringue sort of cooks on contact and doesn't break down and weep. So I have my arms stretched across our small kitchen, stirring the bubbling chocolate custard with one hand while I hold the running mixer in the meringue with the other. The other key is to prevent shrinking by spreading the meringue to cover all the edges of the pie.

I did have a problem, though. As the pie sat, sweet little amber-colored beads formed on top of the meringue. It wasn't exactly weeping in the traditional sense, where there's a watery layer between the meringue and the filling. I was thinking maybe it was because the meringue was overcooked, because the recipe I used cooked it at 425 degrees for 20 to 25 minutes. But the texture of the meringue was just what I like, foamy but solid, so I'm not sure that's it. Any ideas?

Posted by Kim at 11:44 AM | Permalink | Comments (2)

My coworker brought risotto with shrimp, tarragon and lemon for lunch the other day, and she mentioned what a relaxing experience making risotto could be, standing over the pot, stirring with one hand, a glass of wine in the other. I applied the same principle to polenta last night, and topped it with a mixture of roasted mushrooms seasoned with thyme and drizzled with balsamic vinegar.

I'm afraid I found it difficult to just stand and stir - and that bothers me. I want to be the kind of person who can just stand and be, and not get bored. I had to turn on some music, find other things to do in the kitchen, etc. I think I need to practice my relaxation techniques. More polenta, risotto for me. Jam. Other long-cooking things that need regular stirring. I like the idea of foods that will force me to slow down.

Posted by Kim at 08:09 AM | Permalink

It looks like that's the way I'm going. I'm a once-a-week shopper generally, at one or more of the groceries in my neighborhood, but I've been to the new Whole Foods five times since it opened, to supplement my regular grocery shopping with things I can't find in my neighborhood or want to buy mid-week for freshness reasons. Yesterday at lunchtime I bought scallops (because the fish store in my neighborhood was closed Sunday when we were doing our shopping), a variety of mushrooms for tonight and a loaf of bread that was crusty and yeasty, with a even, firm middle that'll be good for sandwiches.

The prepared foods area is a zoo at lunchtime, but the grocery area is easy to shop at that time of day and the line, though sometimes very long, moves really fast. And everyone who works there has been so friendly; how long can that possibly last?

Posted by Kim at 09:50 AM | Permalink

So I'm always feeling a little bereft when I read about some famous chef, like Jacques Pepin or Anthony Bourdain, who grew up around great food, soaking up all this information when their brains and taste buds were like little sponges, learning from toddlerhood from moms and dads who could cook. I grew up on frozen fish sticks, chicken nuggets and pizza, tuna salad, spaghetti from a box with sauce from a jar, rice and pancake mixes, condensed-soup casseroles, canned peaches over cottage cheese. Mmmm, it makes me nostalgic just thinking about it - but it also makes me a novice about what makes for really good food.

So you can maybe understand how excited I was when the intros to two of my new books both revealed that the authors kind of fell into an interest in food relatively late in life, and both lament for a moment their non-food beginnings before going on to either 1) impart a huge amount of information on how to identify fantastic ingredients or 2) share recipes for homey, delicious, beautiful bistro-type dishes. There's hope for me yet.

Posted by Kim at 09:07 AM | Permalink | Comments (4)

Don't do this to yourself! I ordered three food-related books from Amazon.com (thanks Mom and Dad for the gift card) and I spent all last night jumping from one book to the other, just soaking them in.

It made me realize that I almost never pick out cookbooks for myself. I find things on the giveaway table at work or coworkers bring cookbooks to me, or friends and family buy them for me as gifts. I could only name one cookbook on my bookshelf, the Betty Crocker cookbook, that I specifically asked for. With all these cookbooks pouring in, it feels wasteful to buy one for myself. But this time I couldn't resist.

The first one I picked was Solo Suppers, which I read an article about in the food section of an Atlanta paper Todd brought home from a business trip. I have at least two nights a week when I cook just for me, so this book will get a workout. She seems to understand small-scale purchasing and prep.

I browsed on Amazon a bit and settled on two other books: Bistro Cooking at Home and Zingerman's Guide to Good Eating, which was much bigger than I thought it would be (hooray!). After I placed my order I saw Bistro Cooking in a bookstore and got really excited about getting my order. There are at least three recipes in there that use foie gras (Todd's mom gave me some and I haven't known what to do with it).

Posted by Kim at 10:55 AM | Permalink

I had never eaten, nor prepared, an artichoke. I've had canned and bottled artichoke hearts, marinated and not, but I'd never eaten a fresh, whole one: pulled off the leaves layer by layer, dipping them in mayonnaise, melted butter or vinaigrette, scraping the fleshy part of each leaf with my teeth, until at last you reach the inedible choke and the payoff, the heart. The people who describe it to me are usually rapturous or nostalgic with the adventure of wading through all those rough leaves to find the delicate, and appropriately named, heart.

Having steamed and eaten my first artichoke (with both garlic butter and lemon vinaigrette for dipping), I'm ambivalent. I enjoy the adventure, the big messy pile of leaves that overtake your plate as you eat down, down to the end, but I'm not entirely sure about the flavor. Green and mild, the flavor of the flesh was kind of masked by the accompaniments. Todd started eating them plain, which was a better way to actually taste spring in it. As we reached the center, the tips of the leaves became entirely edible, revealing the satisfying texture that we would find at the heart, firm but without a crunch. I think maybe after all the work for so little payoff, the heart feels like a motherlode.

Posted by Kim at 09:37 AM | Permalink | Comments (3)

We just had a sneak peek at the new Whole Foods in the Time Warner building (which is about 8 blocks up from my office, so I was curious), and it was a zoo.

I guess I'm kind of ambivalent because of all fuss (it is, dare I say it, just a grocery store). But they do have nice selections of cheese, fish (sea scallops for $7.99 a pound, which seemed like a decent price to me), produce, meat, olive oils (they have their own brand, which is pretty decent, and then have added a red seal to other brands they like) and prepared foods (sushi, Jamba Juice, soups and lots of prepackaged foods like samosas, summer rolls, potato pancakes, falafel, plus they'll have Thai, Indian and Mexican food bars soon). I have to go back and peruse the cheese more carefully, and I noticed they have a lot of smoked and cured fish I'd like to try: smoked trout, whitefish and salmon, salmon "candy."

And, oh, the produce was pretty: Baby white eggplants and green and purple cauliflowers, a trio of colors of tight, squeaky-looking cabbages, piles of clementines. They also have a chocolate-dipping station, where they can dip anything, a bakery, other confections, a special wine shop.

It's hard to tell from here whether I'll become a regular shopper. Eight blocks is so near, but in NYC it's also just far enough away that there are closer options. The selection will probably draw me back, though.

Posted by Kim at 12:07 PM | Permalink | Comments (1) | TrackBacks (1)

It must be the season for these because I've been seeing them everywhere. They're really very striking-looking, and don't taste very much like oranges. In fact, I kind of find the taste a bit insipid, like cherry flavor or fruit punch. From the outside they look like orange, some like oranges with a blush. I think the red flesh is beautiful but would rely on something else for flavor. (Although maybe if you reduced the juice you'd end up with something surprising.)

Posted by Kim at 11:46 AM | Permalink | Comments (2)

My parents sent six Omaha steaks for my birthday, and Todd and I had a little bonfire on Saturday night while making them. We had thawed two bacon-wrapped filet mignon, seasoned them, then put them on a piece of foil on the broiler pan. When it was nearly time to turn them over, I went to the kitchen and saw flames shooting up from the steaks. I yell, turn off the broiler and start to pull the broiler pan from the oven. Todd comes in and wants to douse it with baking soda, but he doesn't know where I keep it, or put a pan lid over the flames, but all the lids are stored in the bottom drawer under the oven so we can't get to them with the oven open (besides, I read recently that you're not supposed to do that). Slapping the fire once with a wet oven mitt only made the flames get momentarily bigger (it wasn't really a very big fire). As we argued about what to do, the flames got smaller and smaller until they went out. All the fuel (the melted bacon fat) had been consumed. We're convinced it happened because we lined the top of the broiler pan with foil, which collected a pool of ignitable fat. The thing that disturbs me now is that neither of us thought to use the fire extinguisher, which is in a very convenient spot in a side cabinet.

Of course, if we had we wouldn't have been able to eat the steaks, which were really tender. Someone at work had said that Omaha steaks tend not to have much flavor, but the bacon wrapped around these made them flavorful, too. And perfectly cooked, believe it or not, pink in the center and juicy and tender all over. Also roasted potatoes seasoned with a new spice rub (another gift) and some Brussels sprouts (which Todd decided really aren't that bad).

Posted by Kim at 06:24 PM | Permalink

I have a coworker, Greg, who is from Kentucky and always regales us with tales of the exotic fare one can sample there. His childhood home is relatively near Owensboro, which is known for its barbecue, particularly its mutton. For my birthday this year Greg called up Moonlite Bar-B-Que and ordered a gallon of burgoo, a soup he had mentioned that I had never heard anything of.

It arrived frozen solid, in a gallon-size plastic jug, and took two days to thaw. It's primarily mutton, but also contains potatoes, tomato paste, cabbage, corn, ketchup, spices, worcestershire sauce, chicken, beef, onions and vinegar. There's a little bit of heat, a little bite from the vinegar, but what you mainly taste is the mutton, a rich, meaty, almost but not quite gamey taste (it was originally made with squirrel, so the literature included in the package goes). The soup's been cooked so long the mutton's in tiny shreds that hold together the thick juice, but the corn must've been added later because it's fresh and plump. We ate it with cornbread, although Greg says they usually have it as a side to Moonlite's barbecue. (I'm amused by the idea of this meaty soup, almost entirely meat, as a side to more meat.)

Posted by Kim at 06:24 PM | Permalink

This is a variation on a recipe from Elizabeth Alston's little pancake cookbook. I started by slicing a Granny Smith apple thinly, as though I was making a pie, then sauteed it in some butter with brown sugar until the slices softened. While that was cooking, I whisked 1/2 cup milk, 1/2 cup flour, 2 eggs, 1/4 teaspoon salt, a few gratings of nutmeg and a big dash of cinnamon in a 4 cup measure. Spread out the apples in their pan evenly, then poured in the batter (which was the batter for Easy Oven Pancake in the cookbook) and popped it in a 450 degree oven for 12 minutes. It's an eggy pancake, full of sweet-tart apples. We poured maple syrup over the top.

Posted by Kim at 09:37 PM | Permalink

This is one of those places you walk into and everything is so breathtakingly beautiful that you just have to look for a while, even before you can start contemplating the flavors. (It also makes you mad at yourself for not having a camera along; this picture is from their web site, www.buttercupbakeshop.com.)

We confined ourselves to the cupcakes (just $1.50 each): lemon, Devil Dog (with marshmallow-looking frosting), German chocolate, red velvet, spice, Lady Baltimore (white with a cherry nestled in the frosting on top) and then the regular yellow and chocolate. We both settled on spice, which had a sour cream frosting. The cupcake part was good, with a spicy (nutmeg?) bite and the texture of a quick bread, with golden raisins and walnuts. The frosting was piled high and fluffier than Cupcake Cafe's, sweeter too (almost too sweet, without a detectable sour cream tang). Not the dense, rich Cafe cupcake, but a chewier, sweeter one. It seems more like an everyday cupcake to me. Not that it's mediocre. It's just a sit-down-after-school-with-a-big-glass-of-milk-and-a-treat cupcake. The one thing that keeps it from firmly planting itself in that camp is the huge quantity of frosting. (Which I can't decide whether I'm for or against; it's nice to have frosting for every bite, but it makes it less portable and more decadent.)

Posted by Kim at 08:51 PM | Permalink

I don't know how to choose what to write about today. Should it be the sad tale of my belly flop with chocolate pot de creme (I used frozen egg yolks that hadn't completely thawed, so you can imagine the rest), the yummy tortilla soup topped with toasted corn tortilla stips and cheese that wasn't really that difficult or exciting to make (diced onion and jalapeno sauteed; added cumin, chile, garlic, then chicken soup base, water, a can of diced tomatoes and a sliced pork chop left over from lunch the day before) or the rosti that was pretty but soggy and, mysteriously, tasted to Todd like wet socks (tasted to me like onion, potatoes, salt, pepper)?

Todd took a pretty picture of the soup, though:

Posted by Kim at 10:57 AM | Permalink | Comments (1)

I got my Penzeys order yesterday and found a surprise. They had packaged, along with my order, a sample of their chili powder. Unlike lots of national brands, their chili powder doesn't have salt, just ancho chile powder, cumin, garlic and Mexican oregano. I had ordered cumin, ancho chile powder and Turkish oregano, so it's almost like they were showing me that I could get it all together in one.

I also ordered their awesome single-strength bourbon vanilla, which comes with a vanilla bean in the bottle (one of their bestsellers is the double-strength vanilla), and paprika, turmeric and chicken soup base. I haven't tried it yet, but it's kind of a paste and the first ingredient is chicken meat, so we'll see how it is. In the past I've ordered chipotle chile powder (smokey and hot), cardamom pods, paprika (they have hot and sweet), sage, curry powder, peppercorns. They have a great selection of whole spices, vanilla beans.

The have a few stores, and apparently people are always clamoring for a Penzeys to be built in their town, so the company is running a competition. Whatever city sends the most postcards to Penzeys will win a store in their town. (I think the city has to have a population of 300,000.) The company doesn't do a lot of marketing, so this is a way for them to find out where they're known and where a store my do well. It could be genius, or it could fail terribly. It'll be interesting to see. I'm sending my postcard in. (Write "I want a Penzeys in my town" and send to Bill Penzeys, c/o Penzeys Spices, 19300 west Janacek Court, Brookfield, WI 53045; make sure to include your address because it's limited to one entry per address.) They have all the rules on their web site. The contest ends July 31, 2004.

Posted by Kim at 11:34 AM | Permalink

Here's a tale of the pointlessness of going to Key Foods on a Sunday afternoon: I had intended to make chimichurri, shrimp and asparagus (I know, but I had some great asparagus in early December from the grocery - sweet, asparagusy), a pistou for vegetable soup. I guess it's winter, and I was thinking spring. No basil, only the saddest-looking curly-leaf parsley, no shrimp, moldy asparagus. It was almost comical.

Continue reading "Shopping List Futility" »

Posted by Kim at 09:12 AM | Permalink

The line at our local gourmet-ish grocery store, Natural, forms right in front of the deli counter and sometimes snakes back through the refrigerated dairy aisle. Yesterday when Todd and I stopped by for a few things, the line was all the way to the back wall of the store, blocking access not only to the deli but also to the milk, eggs, cheese and refrigerated tubes of pizza crust (if they even carry it), which is what I was after. So instead I picked up some yeast, deciding to make my own pizza crust. Which is what I did. I'm still astonished that I can casually decide to make pizza crust and just do it. And it only took about 1 1/4 hour, including the first rise.

I think I'm ready to graduate to more advanced yeast-based recipes, like bread (I know, bread's not really advanced, but I'm kind of scared of yeast, so I'm taking baby steps). Deb's bread always turns out so beautiful, so maybe I'll try a recipe from Deb's blog.

Posted by Kim at 11:24 AM | Permalink | Comments (9)

This is a cookbook Todd's mom gave me for Christmas. His great-aunt Trudy won it when she was 13, in 1925, for a recipe for split-pea soup that she has written in the back.

The recipes are interesting, odd and kind of vague (recipes don't specify an oven temperature, just saying "a hot oven" or "moderate oven"). There are lots of ingredients I've never heard of or never used: Porto [sic] Rico molasses, sweetbreads (two recipes for sweetbread and cucumber salad), aspic, tongue, chaud-froid, croquettes, coupes, baskets, creamed vegetables, mutton, mincemeat and puddings. In fact, lots of everything. The recipes are really short, and the book is more than 700 pages. They're written in sort of a backward manner that I find myself using when I'm in a hurry, with lots of steps and important information relegated to a sentence clause. Here's a recipe for curried vegetables:

Cook one cup each potatoes and carrot, and one-half cup turnip, cut in fancy shapes, in boiling salted water until soft. Drain, add one-half cup canned peas, and pour over a sauce made by cooking two tablespoons butter with two slices onion five minutes, removing onion, adding two tablespoons flour, three-fourths teaspoon salt, one-half teaspoon curry powder, one-fourth teaspoon pepper, few grains celery salt, and pouring on gradually one cup scalded milk. Sprinkle with finely chopped parsley.

Other recipes have ingredients lists, and the best part about the book is where someone has made notes: how to halve a recipe for Cottage Pudding, "Nancy List made for Donna's dinner 8/29/86" next to Snow Pudding I.

Don't know if I'll cook from it, but it's fun to read. I like the recipe style; I imagine it's written for women who knew their way around a kitchen.

Posted by Kim at 07:15 PM | Permalink

Todd and I spent five days with my parents for Christmas this year, and I spent a lot of time baking "with" my mom. I put "with" in quotes because my mom does not like to cook or bake. The first time this was really driven home was when we set out to make peanut blossoms. (The recipe we used came out kind of crumby, so I won't transcribe it here; my mom couldn't remember which recipe she's used in the past. Even though they were tasty and did disappear, we decided that next time we'll use the recipe on the Hershey's Kisses package.) She got a phone call around the time we started rolling cookies and abandoned me.

Next was the lemon poppyseed bread that she wanted to make for friends. I made it while she was out shopping. (And forgot to put the poppyseeds in the dough, so I sprinkled them on top. They were mini loaves so it didn't matter much.)

Even Christmas day she managed to be out of the kitchen for a good portion of the time, setting up the tables and tracking down cutlery and tablecloths. (I may have lost it a little bit right before dinnertime on Christmas day. I guess I can't stand the heat sometimes.)

The thing is, she knows I love to do this stuff, and I always volunteer. I guess I've read too many of those stories, where the writer reminisces about standing on a stool next to his/her mother, elbow-deep in flour, cutting out cookies, beating butter, sneaking a bit of the dough or licking the beaters. I've idealized baking with someone, so I strive for that Norman Rockwell picture.

When I think about it, though, I realize I kind of got that this year. In our own less-than-perfect way, my family spent a lot of time together in the kitchen: gossiping over a second glass of wine with my parents, complaining with my brother while he assembles the vegetable tray (which I call "crudité" to my family's amusement), making coffee with my dad in the early morning, talking with my mom as we prep about what a great cook her mother was (my mom's mom got sick when I was very young, so all I remember is a wheelchair-bound grandma who always gave me bubble bath for Christmas and loved Lawrence Welk - the bubbles from the show and my bath seem to be linked in my memory).

It was a good holiday. I love this stuff.

Posted by Kim at 02:35 PM | Permalink

Todd and I went out of town for Christmas this year, so instead of schlepping all our gifts for each other, we had our own little pre-Christmas Christmas this morning. And I got some new toys.

But first I want to mention that I made vegetable soup for dinner last night, and while peeling carrots and potatoes with my 8-inch chef's knife I yelled to Todd, who was playing games in the living room, "I don't suppose you got me a peeler for Christmas this year, because if you did you should give it to me now."

Well, not only did he give me a peeler, which he did not break out last night, but he also gave me a Microplane, which is awesome. We have a Christmas morning tradition of hard meats, cheeses, rolls and clementines for breakfast, kind of a mini smorgasbord. But this year Todd really wanted proscuitto and parmesan reggiano (an Italian smorgasbord?). So when I opened up the Microplane, I was grating everything: the clementine peel (who even knew you could grate such a thin peel), the cheese. It really is the best grater ever. Todd bought it, along with the peeler, a funnel and a madeline pan, at this restaurant supply store on 17th street near Union Square (Broadway Restaurant Supply). He said it was not even expensive.

Posted by Kim at 09:24 AM | Permalink

I've let all my subscriptions run out. I never completely came around to the high-concept recipes in Gourmet, and Everyday Food recipes seem to be hit-or-miss. (I've tried a couple that have failed completely, a problem I never had with Cooking Light.)

I'm thinking maybe Food and Wine would be a good one to try for a while, and I've signed up for two free issues of Real Simple. (The deal is supposed to be that I get to try the first two issue and then, if I'm not happy, I can write cancel on the bill and never pay a thing. But they have yet to send me my two trial issues buy have already sent me two bills. It's so aggravating. It's like they've scammed me into a subscription that I'm not sure I want. And I won't pay until I get my trial issues. There. I'm done complaining.)

What magazines do you all get inspired by?

Posted by Kim at 09:56 AM | Permalink | Comments (8)

So I didn't win my first baking contest, where I entered my chocolate-dipped coconut macaroons. (Sniff.) The really sad thing is that the recipe I made only made 18 cookies, and I had to give them 12, I gave one away, and Todd and I ate two right after they were baked, so I only have three left. (I guess that could be a good thing, too. Wouldn't want to get sick of them.)

The good news is that my friend, Julie, did. She won in the most creative category, for chocolate sandwich cookies with peppermint filling. She got the recipe for the chocolate part from epicurious.com (the Dark Chocolate Cookies recipe, but she chilled the dough until it was firm enough to roll into balls), then made the peppermint filling with a combination of peppermint extract, confectioners' sugar and a tiny bit of cream (it was thick enough that she could roll it in a ball then flatten it). The thing that put her into the winners' circle, though, was that she placed a small star-shaped cookie cutter on top of the assembled cookie, then dusted it with confectioners' sugar to make a pattern. Hooray Julie!

Posted by Kim at 09:34 AM | Permalink | Comments (1)

There was a raffle here at work today and I won a Calphalon nonstick double griddle! (I actually won a set of Crabtree and Evelyn beauty products, but the person who won the griddle didn't want it, so traded with me.)

I keep hearing bad things about the chemicals nonstick cookware releases, though. I can't decide what to think about that.

Posted by Kim at 04:00 PM | Permalink

That's what I was this weekend. Yesterday, the failed brownie recipe (which was from a site I had never visited before, my bad). Then a devil's food cake with Cointreau-spiked whipped cream to take to dinner instead of the brownies.

But today was the big baking day. I made all three cookies shown: chocolate-dipped coconut macaroons, almond macaroons and cinnamon-hazelnut biscotti. The coconut macaroons were supposed to be for the cookie contest at work (more on that later), but when I got home from the store I realized I didn't buy enough coconut. So I sent Todd up to the convenience store, instructing him not to go all the way to the grocery store even if he didn't find coconut at the convenience store (it was snowing, and I could just make half of a recipe). Yet I had such faith in Todd's ability to find coconut that I started separating all the eggs for the cookies.

So when he came home without coconut, I had two extra egg whites, and that's where the almond macaroons came in. Then I was on a roll, so I made the biscotti. (I'm planning to give out treats at work.)

The problem is, I still don't have anything I'm 100 percent happy with for the contest. The chocolate on the macaroons melts at a warm room temperature, the biscotti has the same chocolate and the almond macaroons aren't that exciting. I think they're my choice right now, though. I'll probably change my mind before tomorrow morning. Or right now. Maybe I'll risk the coconut ones (they're awesome, if a little melty).

Posted by Kim at 09:15 PM | Permalink | Comments (2)

One of my coworkers says she gets a letter when someone tries a recipe from the magazine and it doesn't work. Often this reader wants the money she spent on ingredients to be reimbursed by the magazine (which the magazine doesn't do). I always scoffed at these readers, but now at least I can sympathize with the sentiment (although I still would never expect such a thing).

I printed out a recipe from another blog this morning, for caramel-topped brownies, and really ended up with a stinker. I think the problem was that the instructions said to use a 9-inch square baking pan, but I noticed later at the end of the recipe "makes 50 brownies." So I'm thinking it should have been baked in a 9 x 13-inch pan. The pan was really full, and the brownies took 20 minutes longer to bake than they should have (by that time, the caramel layer had both burned and oozed into the brownie layer, making a big mush). I have no idea how the recipe would have turned out if the instructions had specified the correct pan size, but I'll never know (I actually had to throw it out). I'm too mad about wasting all of my nuts, vanilla, butter, eggs, chocolate, etc. to give it another go.

So I want to apologize to anyone who might have tried cooking (particularly baking) anything from here and got bad results because I transcribed something wrong. My mom calls me every once in a while to say, "I don't understand. Your site says to (fill in blank with one of my silly mistakes)." I am grateful for the constructive criticism. I'm a copy editor in my day job so, while the blog is an attempt to escape that for a little while, I can appreciate the benefit of a second pair of eyes reading things, especially recipes.

Posted by Kim at 04:44 PM | Permalink | Comments (2)

Todd's holiday party for work was last night, and one of the appetizers was wedges of apple tart. It wasn't anything like what I expected, though - it was savory instead of sweet. It had a crust like a pizza and included some kind of cheese. I think it could be great with some brie or other mild, silky cheese (it could have been brie). Maybe add some pepper and thyme? I wonder if I'll ever get a chance to experiment. (I think it's a little too weird of a combination for those I cook for, so I'd end up eating it all myself.)

Posted by Kim at 08:32 PM | Permalink

I've bitten off more than I can chew (hahaha) in the holiday baking/candy making category, I think. We're sending a package off to Todd's sister and her family tomorrow, so I baked a batch of Italian wedding cookies to send in that (I'm going to have to make another batch I think, because they were good; I used the almond flour I bought recently at Trader Joe's), and then I made lemon-rosemary mini bundts (which I froze for gifts) and orange-chocolate truffles. Next weekend I want to make shortbread for one coworker, another cookie as a contest entry and chocolate-and-caramel covered matzo. I'm thinking maybe cinnamon and hazelnut biscotti or chocolate crinkles for my contest entry, but I don't know. I can't decide whether I should steer clear of chocolate. (If the judges are eating lots of chocolate cookies, will they get sick of it?) If I went with my own nostalgic favorite I'd do peanut butter blossoms (the one with the Hershey's kiss inside), although my mom used to make them, a long time ago, with these starburst-shaped chocolates instead. They're always the first cookies gone.

The truffles I made today didn't turn out very pretty. It's more of a trick than the recipe intimates to get them round. Mine looked like little chocolate rocks, all different shapes. Toward the end I realized that you have more control when you move the truffle from one spoon to another. REALLY rich, too. The ones I made had some Cointreau in them.

Posted by Kim at 10:15 PM | Permalink | Comments (2)

My company is having a holiday cookie contest and I want to enter. It's my first contest, though. Anyone have any tips? Any cookie recipes that are really fantastic?

There are five categories: best tasting, best looking, best bars, most original and best intentioned. I don't think I should go for best looking, because I'm not an aesthetic perfectionist. Todd's been pressing me to make Nanaimo Bars, which are layered bar cookies with a cookie layer, custard layer and a layer of chocolate on top. I'm thinking something simpler, though. Maybe a Mexican wedding cookie. This weekend I'm hoping to make lemon-rosemary bundt cakes and truffles. It's snowing buckets right now, so it'll be a good weekend for indoor activities.

Don't forget to send me your award-winning cookie recipes, though. I can tell I'm going to make myself crazy trying to figure out what to enter.

Posted by Kim at 02:18 PM | Permalink | Comments (2)

The last time I made this recipe some friends invited us over to their house for the afternoon just as I was putting it in the oven, so I transferred it all to a slow-cooker and turned it on low. This time I followed the recipe and cooked it in my Dutch oven in the oven. It was a little more solid this time, could be sliced instead of falling into shreds, but still tender and good (in the slow cooker the roast falls apart).

Heat some oil in the Dutch oven, then add some butter and 2 large onions, sliced thin. Cook over medium-high heat until soft, then lower heat and cook another 10 minutes, until the onions are caramelized. Pour in 1/2 cup balsamic vinegar, 1/4 cup white wine, 1/4 cup soy sauce, a couple tablespoons brown sugar, and salt and pepper and heat, scraping up brown stuff on the bottom of the pan. Add a 2-pound beef roast that you've trimmed the fat from (I don't know what cut I used, some kind of round?) and cover with the onions. Put in 350 degree oven for three hours, until it falls off the fork when you try to pick it up.

The beef has a faint sweetness and is soft enough to bite and chew easily, even with thick slices. We ate it on sandwiches yesterday and it didn't even need condiments because the juice is so flavorful. (I shredded mine and Todd ate his in slices).

The recipe goes on to refrigerate the liquid overnight, skim the solidified fat off the top, then reduce it into a syrupy liquid. Too much effort for a sauce, especially since the beef is pretty good on its own.

Posted by Kim at 10:24 AM | Permalink

The food story in tomorrow's New York Times magazine is about how chefs come up with specials, and it's really all the same things you always hear (which means it must be true): what's seasonal, available; happy delivery mistakes; and the one that can make you believe you shouldn't order the pot pie or soup special, because the chef's trying to pull a fast one on you by using up what didn't sell yesterday or the day before and calling it "special."

But that last one, and our empty refrigerator, made me realize something about myself: Given an empty refrigerator, my options of what to fix are only limited by what I can think up and afford, and that paralyzes me. I pile up cookbooks and food magazines on the sofa next to me and start flipping through them, stacking them up, open and facedown. Then I start going through a second time to make a list, and decide that what I have chosen isn't interesting enough, substantial enough, "fall" enough, healthy enough. I really go nuts. I guess that probably says a lot about me.

But I do thrive on a produce drawer full of wilting greens and aging carrots, three-week-old gouda in the fridge, bones in the freezer, sprouting potatoes in the bin. I'm a pantry-forager, a scavenger. I'm inspired by what we have left, what we need to use before it goes bad, like chefs in the old days with their specials. But I think it's kind of like a sonnet: Rules and boundaries and restrictions take away some of your decisions, which gives you freedom to focus on the others, and come up with something truly spectacular. A few generations ago they did that out of necessity, to save money, which I still find can be a good reason for it.

I have a coworker who always goes to her brother's for Thanksgiving, so the next day she and her husband roast their own turkey because they want to have the leftovers. I love that. Maybe next year I'll do it.

Posted by Kim at 05:03 PM | Permalink

Fired up the broiler for the first time last night (I'm running out of new features) to make a quick tuna melt: I mixed the rest of that olive-oil packed tuna with capers, celery, pepper and a little mustard to hold it together, then spread that over a piece of bread I had toasted under the broiler on the low setting (two broiler settings! who ever heard of such a thing?). Added some cheese to the top (roasted pepper would've been nice here, too), then put it back under the broiler until the cheese was getting blistery.

Tuna melts are another thing I remember eating a lot of when I was a kid, which can make any food feel like comfort food. Ended the meal by making a stovetop rice pudding with some leftover rice, milk, sugar, cinnamon, a crushed cardamom pod, nutmeg and rose water (I was reaching for the vanilla when I noticed the rose water in my cupboard and thought that might give it an interesting twist - it did, although I think I may have added a little more than was necessary).

Posted by Kim at 09:54 AM | Permalink

I have a new oven! It has a waist-high broiler (instead of a broiler drawer), a special high-powered burner and another, low-powered burner for simmering things, it's self-cleaning, has two built-in timers (one that actually turns the oven off when the time's run down), and a convection feature. It's not as wide as my old oven, which is going to take some getting used to (I used to have lots of extra surface area on the actual stovetop where I could put things down). It's still a gas oven and stovetop, which I like.

Anyway, I've been repeatedly foiled in my attempts to use it. It arrived yesterday afternoon but wasn't hooked up and ready to go until about an hour before I had to leave last night. Then tonight I had the slowest subway ride, so I got home later than usual (a ride that normally takes 30 minutes took three times as long). The good thing about the extra-long ride is that it gave me a chance to think about what to have for dinner.

I ended up having pasta with oil-packed tonna (tuna), capers and olive oil. I put the oil in a small saucepan on the simmer burner and dropped a crushed clove of garlic in there, to infuse the oil with the garlic. Cooked the pasta on the power burner; not sure if the water came to a boil faster, but this Barilla pasta I got, spaghetti rigati (spaghetti with ridges), really does cook in 5 minutes. I tossed the tuna and capers into the oil, then added the pasta. Tossed it all together, added some grated Parm, and was eating 15 minutes after I walked in the door. The oil could have used a little more garlic flavor, but overall it was a pretty good meal (and amazingly quick).

It's not really that late yet. Maybe I'll give the oven its first spin with some brownies.

Posted by Kim at 07:50 PM | Permalink

Real home cooks have a collection of recipes that work for them, that they know by heart and can adjust according to what they have in their kitchens. I feel like I won't be a real cook until I have one. So every time I make something new, Todd gets 20 questions: What do you think? Would you want this again? Do you like it more than what I made last night? Do you like it more than the other [insert chicken, pasta, steak, etc. here] dish I made last week?

He's been spared the 20 questions lately, though, because I've either made things that are becoming regulars in our home, or I've made things that I wasn't really that happy with.

I have a recipe for fantastic and rich coconut macaroons that I made this weekend, then dipped in either Scharffen Berger bittersweet or Key Food semisweet (I do like the deep, musky bittersweet flavor better that the semisweet, but didn't necessarily prefer the texture of one more than the other). Anyway, after making these cookies twice I've decided they deserve a place in my canon.

I've also included a couscous dish with sausage and chicken. You cook onion and then add chicken, kielbasa, broth, tomato paste, a cut-up turnip, a carrot, turmeric (last time I substituted cumin), hot pepper flakes, a cinnamon stick and bay leaf and simmer for a while, then you take out part of the liquid to make the couscous. The couscous comes out great.

My oven finally died so it's going to be the microwave, electric skillet, waffle iron and slow-cooker for us for a while. It'll be an interesting challenge.

Posted by Kim at 02:31 PM | Permalink | Comments (4)

It astounds me how the most modest ingredients make the most fantastic food: old bread, sugar and eggs make creamy bread pudding; flour, water and eggs make pasta; the cheapest cut of beef, carrots, onion, celery and time for a great stew; a chicken carcass and some veggies for a rich, thick stock; flour, water and yeast for bread.

I made polenta last night to eat with the leftover ragu, and it's basically 2 cups of boiling water, 1/2 cup basic cornmeal (about 10 cents' worth) and a lot of stirring (of course, I added butter and Parmesan at the end, but you could have a very respectable, creamy polenta just by adding a lot of salt and freshly ground pepper - but even a wedge of Parmesan can be a modest ingredient when you consider how far you can stretch a chunk). The ragu, which disappointed me the first time, was transformed by the modest cornmeal mush. Frugality is highly underrated.

Posted by Kim at 07:59 AM | Permalink

I made long-simmering ragu this weekend, and it was fine, although I kind of felt like something was missing. It's weird, it had that depth of flavor I was looking for, but was almost too mellow, without any standout flavor. I have a bunch of ideas for what might remedy it, or what could make it better next time: It might just need more salt (I'm always a little too light on the salt), which a liberal grating of Parmesan over the top could take care of, or I might need better tomatoes (I used fresh), wine or meat (I used a mix of ground beef and veal). Maybe even more garlic. I threw in some chopped-up Parmesan rind toward the end, and more of that might have made a difference. Or maybe my expectations were just too high?

Posted by Kim at 09:18 AM | Permalink | Comments (3)

I bought apples at the Union Square farmer's market (HUGE apples) and took them over to some friends' where we made a caramel-topped apple pie on Sunday. I should've watched my friend better as she made the crust: It came out perfect, flaky but solid enough to hold everything together. She did it all by hand but didn't have any big lumps of butter in her finished crust. I think I just need to be more patient when I'm cutting in the butter (she used a pastry blender).

It's amazing how a slice of warm apple pie with ice cream melting all over it can make me so happy. I had one of those "this is awesome" moments right in the middle of eating it.

Posted by Kim at 01:40 PM | Permalink | Comments (3)

We've finally come to the end of my ropa vieja. (Get it? What's with me this weekend?) Tonight, I put what was left into two ramekins, topped it with mashed potatoes (a big white potato, 1 tablespoon butter, 2 tablepoons sour cream and a splash of milk) and cooked it for 15 minutes in a 450 degree oven. Its fourth incarnation: We had it with rice, in tacos, as sandwiches and as sheperd's pie.

Posted by Kim at 07:14 PM | Permalink

I love this weather. Even the smells of cooking, of the gas burners on my stovetop firing up, are different when the air outside is so crisp and clean. I made pasta with tomato sauce last night, a childhood favorite, and it was the perfect food for the turn in the weather. I got out my sweaters, pulled on my flannel pajamas and made a list of warm foods to stock up on: teas, cocoa and cider, steel-cut oats, soups.

Posted by Kim at 08:07 AM | Permalink

I don't know if there's a little ambiguity in defining "pork tenderloin" or if the butcher just gave Todd something else, but when I sent him to the pork store to buy a tenderloin, instead of the long, skinny little piece of meat I expected, Todd came home with a 3-pound roast. So we ate pork for about a week. First I roasted some of it, coating it with applesauce before I put it in a 500 degree oven and cooked it until it reached 155 degrees internally. Then we had sandwiches with some of the leftovers. With the rest of the meat, I made Bittman's pork and turnips (which we love) and Todd took those leftovers to lunch.

On Sunday we finally ate the last of the pork I had roasted, stir-fried with rice, bell pepper, scallions, garlic and celery and seasoned with toasted sesame oil, soy sauce and red pepper flakes. You stir-fry the veggies first, add the garlic, then the rice and seasonings. So easy. (Although I did have to cook the rice the day before, but that's easy, too. I just left it sitting on the stovetop, covered, like Todd's roommate used to do in college.)

Posted by Kim at 09:41 AM | Permalink

I made chocolate chip cookies last night (I used a recipe in the Once Upon a Tart cookbook, but it's pretty basic). Sorry to sound like the end of a coming-of-age novel, but it taught me a couple of things about myself.

I've come a long way in terms of cooking and baking. There was a time when baking a batch of cookies was an event, involving what seemed to me a huge shopping list, a long process and endless scooping and baking. I would skip key elements, like using room-temperature butter, or not know how to "make" the butter room temperature quickly (microwave, LOW POWER, in 30 second increments until your thumb leaves a mark). I know some of you will understand what I'm saying, and others of you have baking in your blood and can't imagine that a batch cookies could be viewed as daunting. Anyway, I have changed. I have all the ingredients on hand (they're staples in my kitchen) and everything goes so quickly and easily. I was a little surprised. And I always used to be disappointed in the results, but the cookies I made last night are awesome. (I have in my possession a box of Entenmann's cookies that I'm supposed to deliver to a friend, and that's what got me craving cookies last night, but I wasn't allowed to open the box since they weren't mine, so that's why I made my own. Mine were better.)

The other thing I learned about myself is that I'm a comfort baker. Some news made me a little sad last night, so I made a batch of cookies, and it made me feel better. Skilled and useful, like I could do something that other people would appreciate and enjoy. Is that an unhealthy attitude about food? I just wish there were more than just the two of us to eat up all my comfort baking.

Posted by Kim at 06:50 AM | Permalink | Comments (5)

One book I really enjoyed is Appetite for Life, a biography of Julia Child. I know it's been said over and over again, but she really takes an appealing approach to food: She's curious, passionate and rarely intimidated, or intimidating. Reading about her life was fun - she came to cooking relatively late, if I remember correctly.

I've now stumbled upon another chef biography, that of Julia's colleague, Jacques Pepin: The Apprentice. His story is a bit more daunting for the novice cook, because he's been working in kitchens since before he was 13 years old. I haven't gotten very far in it yet, but I'm hooked. It's easy and enjoyable to read so far.

He was a child in France during WWII, but he touches on the hardships with a very light hand, instead seeing how his summers spent as a city kid hosted by farmers gave him an early understanding of the superiority of fresh, simple food. He comes from a restaurant family and had an opportunity to apprentice at a hotel restaurant, but so far he's still a playful child.

Posted by Kim at 11:24 AM | Permalink | Comments (2)

This is the fresh parpadelle I made.

Yesterday I took a basic fresh pasta class at the Institute for Culinary Education (formerly Peter Kump's) on 23rd Street between 5th and 6th Aves. It's the second cooking class I've taken, and the first at ICE. I took a From the Greenmarket class at the New School last year, which I thoroughly enjoyed. The New School class seemed more like a bunch of people getting together to cook a huge meal from ingredients at the farmers' market; the class I took yesterday seemed slightly more like being in cooking school. They have big kitchens with multiple stainless steel tables and professional-ish equipment, and we each got to make our own batch of fresh pasta. Yesterday we were left to our own devices to a greater degree, which is a little annoying when you've got a time limit in an unfamiliar kitchen, but is kind of nice, too. It's like they have a little faith in our abilities.

Anyway, making fresh pasta is definitely something I'll try to do again here at home. You start with 2 1/2 cups all-purpose flour. Then, using a fork, beat three eggs with 1 teaspoon salt. Make a well in the flour and pour in the egg mixture. Then, using the fork you used to beat the eggs, continue to stir the eggs, incorporating more and more of the flour until it starts to resemble dough. Then start grabbing and kneading it with your hands, incorporating as much of the flour as you can. Turn it out of the bowl and continue to work it until it feels smooth and dry, almost a little rubbery. You'll be amazed at how stiff and dry the dough is; you can add water if necessary, but I didn't need to (I kept thinking I needed to, but when I broke the dough ball open, the inside was still a little sticky). Then you have to leave it alone for at least half an hour, wrapped in plastic in the refrigerator.

We made chicken ragu, a 4-cheese sauce, a tomato and basil sauce and, my favorite, ricotta ravioli with sauteed Swiss chard and arugula. The filling consisted of 2 cups ricotta, 1/4 cup grated Parmesan, 2 tablespoons minced flat-leaf parsley, and salt and pepper to taste. Then you sautee garlic in oil and add Swiss chard, arugula, salt and pepper and cook until the greens are wilted.

Each group made all four sauces, so all four of us at my table were racing around at this point, trying to get all the sauces done in time. After the sauces were completed, we used pasta machines to roll out the dough and cut the shapes, flouring the pasta and putting it on a floured rimmed baking sheet when it was finished. For the ravioli, you roll the pasta out into sheets, make mounds of the filling along one long side of the sheet, brush the top of the other long side of the sheet with beaten egg, and fold it over, pushing out the air as you seal the top layer of pasta around each mound of filling. Then cut into rustic ravioli squares.

Then you cook it up in boiling water, toss it in a saute pan with one of the sauces, and voila! We didn't learn how to hand-roll pasta, which is what I'm going to have to do (too bad, because using the pasta maker was pretty easy and it seems like hand-rolling it is really impractical). It's so satisfying, though, to make your own pasta, and fresh pasta is such a different taste and texture than dried.

Posted by Kim at 01:41 PM | Permalink

We went to the Cloisters yesterday, a beautiful, sunny, breezy day, and had a picnic in Tryon Park, which is the rambling, rocky park visitors must walk through to get to the museum.

I packed sweet-tart, ripe plums and smoked turkey wraps with provolone (mine had apple-cranberry chutney; Todd's had mustard). We ate sitting on a park bench watching a boy try to learn to catch a baseball, then walked around the museum for a while. My favorite part of the Cloisters is the edibles garden, where they have fig, quince, pear and olive trees, as well as lots of greens and herbs. Got some ice cream from the truck at the entrance to the park, then took the subway down to the Union Square farmers' market. It was a perfect day.

Posted by Kim at 08:22 AM | Permalink

Once I buy any kind of bakery bread, it's like a sprint to finish it off before it's rendered inedible by the passage of time. And this weather always makes me feel like gnawing on a baguette and some fruit and cheese instead of preparing something more elaborate. I guess it's just that, to me, that type of meal feels like a picnic, and it's been picnic weather lately.

So I've been eating on a baguette all week, culminating with bread salad last night.

Continue reading "The Baguette" »

Posted by Kim at 07:58 PM | Permalink

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.

Continue reading "Cookbook Culling" »

Posted by Kim at 09:19 AM | Permalink

Am I supposed to start screaming and crying when my very first cheesecake does this?

I swore to myself that I wouldn't get upset when (not if) this happened. I even told a coworker that I didn't care if it cracked, as long as it tastes good. But I'm sure the neighbors did hear my shriek when I saw what had happened to the center of the cappuccino cheesecake I made this afternoon.

The thing is, it was already cracked a little when I turned off the oven (15 minutes early, I must add). So I thought that would be it, not too bad. You can still see the small cracks along the sides, even though they're dwarfed in magnitude by the enormous crater in the center. I know I did everything wrong, though, so I'm definitely going to try again: I used a mixer to beat the batter, which incorporated a lot of air that turned to steam in the oven and needed a way to escape (apparently a food processor works better); I didn't use a waterbath (the recipe I had didn't call for one); I think I started it in a too-hot oven (the recipe called for a 450 oven for the first 10 minutes, then down to 200 for an hour, which seemed weird from the beginning, but who am I to question it?); and I overcooked it (there was no jiggly middle when I checked on it 15 minutes before it should be done).

I added some embellishments to try to camouflage the mess for the people I might ask to eat it:

Tomorrow we'll see. It has to chill for at least 8 hours before we can eat it. As long as it tastes good, I won't have to cry.

Posted by Kim at 07:01 PM | Permalink | Comments (3)

My brother graduated from Colorado State on Saturday, so Todd and I flew in to help him celebrate. It gave me the opportunity to prepare a spread for a group of family and friends, which was fun. (My mom is firmly of the "get a six foot hero and a veggie platter from Sam's" camp, so I think I stressed her out by wanting to prepare the sandwiches myself.)

I have this problem with sleeping on vacation. I am not one of those people who go on vacation to sleep: I tend to be up at the crack of dawn (or at least 7:30 EST, which in Colorado translated to 5:30). But it was lovely to be in my mother's kitchen at 5:30, staring the coffee for the sleeping family, popping an apple braid in the oven (from the freezer) and assembling sandwiches and platters. I love cooking in my mom's kitchen (it being quite a bit larger than the standard NYC kitchen I usually have to work with).

Continue reading "Graduation" »

Posted by Kim at 03:20 PM | Permalink

Todd took a picture of the carnage after we finished eating my berry crumble. It actually looks like an accident scene or something, but it was posted on Lala Land under the Comfort Food theme.

Posted by Kim at 07:29 AM | Permalink

I've been sick with a bad cold lately, so I haven't been cooking much that's interesting. In fact, I practically slept through the last four days. Then when I came into work today, a coworker made a mug of her famous ginger tea for me. The tea's cloudy with what I think must be some form of ginger has some kind of citrus, but it's sweet, with the strongest ginger flavor that clears you right up. If I can get the recipe from her I'll put it up here.

I was stunned when I came to my site and discovered I'm going on a week without writing anything. I really have been very lazy about cooking lately. Here are a couple of things I did make that didn't seem to suffer too much from the shortcuts I took. First there was a quick chicken parm from Martha Stewart's new Everyday Food magazine. I'm finding that I turn to that magazine a lot when it's dinnertime; the recipes are all written so concisely and they're in this cute little booklet so they tend to come across as very accessible. Whether they're good is sort of another matter, but I did like the chicken (Todd and I both gave a curried shrimp recipe the thumbs down, though). We bought cutlets, so it was simply a matter of dredging them in beaten egg then bread crumbs (purchased, yes, so sorry--I was sick) seasoned with a lot of freshly grated Parmesan cheese. Panfried for a couple minutes on each side, then slid into a pan with a layer of marinara on the bottom. Topped with fresh mozzarella and put them under the broiler for just shy of 5 minutes. Ate the leftovers today on a roll.

Also had a berry crumble that was just a bag of frozen mixed berries (unsweetened from Trader Joe's) with a crumb topping of oats, brown sugar, walnuts, butter and flour. Todd put his superb skills to use cutting the butter into the mixture (his breakfast specialty is lighter-than-air drop biscuits). Then we spooned the hot berries over vanilla ice cream. I was elated (it may have been the cold medicine, but the crumble was good, too).

Posted by Kim at 04:32 PM | Permalink

I made Italian dressing last night with the Penzey's spice mix I had purchased quite a while back and Todd and I were both pleasantly surprised. We usually like to make our own vinaigrette with mustard, salt, pepper, whatever vinegar sounds good at the moment and olive oil (I have some lemon olive oil and some basil olive oil that are so fresh tasting and nice to use).

Continue reading "Penzey's Dressing" »

Posted by Kim at 01:43 PM | Permalink

I subscribed to Gourmet about 6 months ago and have become a bit disillusioned with it after trying a few recipes that have come out pretty bland. I made fresh cod cakes from the Gourmet Everyday column last night and was disappointed. I think it may be my fault, though. My parents followed the Pritikin diet when I was a child, which was low-sodium among other things, so I'm very stingy with the salt (out of habit, not some attempt to be healthy). I also tend to cook things from the Everyday column since the recipes are less ambitious; I wonder if that has influenced my experience for ill.

Some of my favorite recipes from Epicurious, I just realized, are from Gourmet (Bulgur "Risotto" with Spinach and Bacon, Chocolate-Dipped Coconut Macaroons), and I do have one keeper from my subscription (Cincinnati-Style Chili), so maybe I'm writing it off too soon. Perhaps I've just made some bad recipe choices. I'm going to eat the leftover cod cakes on a roll with some lettuce and mango chutney, which I bet will salvage them.

Posted by Kim at 10:44 AM | Permalink

I went shopping this weekend and bought a couple of books that are relevant to these pages: Salt, a World History and What Einstein Told His Cook. (I also bought a belted knit top, a pair of pants and a light dress to celebrate the advent of spring--I should have bought earmuffs instead.)

I've started reading the Einstein book, which was written by Washington Post columnist Robert Wolke. The book follows a basic formula: A reader poses a question, and Wolke answers it by simplifying the science so it's understandable to a layperson. He's already answered two things I've wondered about in the last week: Is hominy really soaked in lye, and why are the fleshes of different animals different textures and colors? Alton Brown-type stuff, with recipes. It's an interesting book, and one I'm planning to keep as a reference at work.

So ask me a sciency-type food-related question, and I'll see if the answer is in the book.

Posted by Kim at 10:13 AM | Permalink

OK, I am inspired by all of you bloggers. Inspired and determined to record
my own culinary adventures. I am of a peculiar brand of food enthusiast,
though. Not the kind who tries the same recipe over and over again, honing
it to perfection. Rather, I never make the same thing twice. I have a huge
binder full of recipes that I have cut out or printed out and have never
tried. Planning a meal sends me into a state of anxiety not because I have
no options, but because I have too many options, every one of them new to
me.

Frankly, I think it drives my husband crazy. He's the kind of guy who orders
the same thing at his favorite restaurants every time we go there. Steak and
fries at Steak Frites. A fried chicken sandwich at U.J.'s Diner. Ham steak
and eggs at Austin Street. Whenever I ask him what we should make for
dinner, he answers "taco salad" (Fritos covered in beans, ground meat,
lettuce, cheese, etc). After 7 years of marriage, it's kind of a joke (the
kind of joke that can send me into a screaming fit; see above anxiety). I
think it's because I view every mealtime as an opportunity to eat something
great and can be depressed for hours when a meal is mediocre. But I'm not a
food snob. A cheesesteak from B.B.'s or a slice of greasy pizzeria
pizza can leave me quite content. Last night's pleasant repast was toasted
rosemary bread with fig-and-olive tapenade and an orange.

I can't do meals like that often, though, since my husband, Todd, is a big
guy (tea- or tapas-type meals are not real meals). He's picky, too: no
squash of any kind, mushrooms, corn off the cob, tofu, eggplant, kumquats,
fruit with meat, things in his rice, casseroles. . . you get the idea. He's
in business school part time, though, so on Wednesday and Thursday nights,
when he has class, it's all about me (and only about me, which can be
challenging, too, cooking for one).

Tonight I'll make somen noodles with snow peas and peanut sauce. I have yet
to find the perfect peanut sauce; tonight I'll try one I found in a book
called Little Meals. Haven't decided whether to add some shrimp. I know
chicken's the usual meat for that dish, but I'm kind of anti-chicken right
now. I just can't stand the sight of those bloated breasts in the
supermarket. Maybe there is something to be said for organic.

Posted by Kim at 09:58 PM | Permalink | Comments (1)