Recently in Cooking Misc. Category

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.