Recipes & Cooking: June 2004 Archives

We're attending a big picnic this weekend, one of the few events that I have an old standard recipe to bring. I started making this long, long ago, before I really cooked at all, so by today's standards it's pretty simple, kind of a dump recipe (dump in this, this and this). But it's still quintessential picnic food to me, coming from Colorado. One of my former supervisors used to make something similar, white beans, tuna and red onion, as her picnic staple.

Mine's a corn and black bean salsa. It involves opening, draining and rinsing a can of black beans and a can of corn (dump, dump). Then you add chopped red onion, scallion, tomato and cilantro, cumin and lime juice. It tastes better afer it sits for a bit. I bet fresh corn would be nice, but that's another one of those things I don't get my hands on very often. I serve it with tortilla chips, but I've seen people eat it like a salad, with a fork, too.

My other picnic standard is the fudgy brownies I wrote about awhile back.

We're attending a big picnic this weekend, one of the few events that I have an old standard recipe to bring. I started making this long, long ago, before I really cooked at all, so by today's standards it's pretty simple, kind of a dump recipe (dump in this, this and this). But it's still quintessential picnic food to me, coming from Colorado. One of my former supervisors used to make something similar, white beans, tuna and red onion, as her picnic staple.

Mine's a corn and black bean salsa. It involves opening, draining and rinsing a can of black beans and a can of corn (dump, dump). Then you add chopped red onion, scallion, tomato and cilantro, cumin and lime juice. It tastes better afer it sits for a bit. I bet fresh corn would be nice, but that's another one of those things I don't get my hands on very often. I serve it with tortilla chips, but I've seen people eat it like a salad, with a fork, too.

My other picnic standard is the fudgy brownies I wrote about awhile back.

I have a rule against having all burners going at once. It's not a safety thing; I just don't like doing dishes that much. But last night I made scallops with orzo and tomatoes, which required two nonstick skillets and a saucepan, and it was definitely worth it (maybe because I made Todd do the dishes?). The tomato sauce sounded really weird, with ginger, lemongrass and basil, but it came together much better than you would think. And I love, love, love the sweetness, the softness, the crisp browned exterior of seared scallops.

Boiled a cup of orzo for until it was done, a bit more than five minutes. While that was working, I sauteed about an inch of minced ginger and a minced stalk of lemongrass for about 2 minutes. (I think I used parts of the lemongrass I shouldn't; it was really hard to tell. I peeled back about half the layers, cut off the top 2/3, then minced the rest. I think the tough part I ended up with was at the very bottom, though.) Added 2 big chopped tomatoes and cooked for another minute, then tossed in a couple tablespoons sliced basil leaves.

Heated oil in another nonstick pan, then seared the scallops for 2 minutes on the first side (salting and peppering the tops), then 1 minute on the other side.

I have never tasted a really good fresh apricot. I even went to Red Jacket Orchard's booth at the Union Square farmers' market last year, but it must've been too early or late. So yesterday when I went to the grocery to buy some kind of fruit to make a tart filling, I veered toward the apricots (they were giving off a very apricot-y scent). I figured a cooked apricot would taste more like an apricot than any fresh apricot I had had.

And they did, but they were also really, really tart. Do apricots get sweet? If I made this tart again I'd add a lot more sugar, and maybe leave out the lemon. Maybe the tartness of apricots is why lots of the tart recipes I saw added a cream cheese or frangipane layer.

I used a refrigerated pie crust, which I rolled out thinner to fit into my 10-inch tart pan (not sure I needed to, though; I had a bit of extra). Mixed sliced apricots with 5 tablespoons sugar, 1 1/2 tablespoon cornstarch, 1/2 tablespoon lemon juice and some zest. Arranged in a spiral, then baked at 425 for 15 minutes, then turned it down to 375 for another 25 minutes. Then I brushed it with melted cherry jam (what I had on hand), and I can't decide if that ruined the way it looked or added interesting color.

Another thing I noticed was that apricots are tiny, so the edges of my tart were too high. I'd form the tart edges lower next time.

I have never tasted a really good fresh apricot. I even went to Red Jacket Orchard's booth at the Union Square farmers' market last year, but it must've been too early or late. So yesterday when I went to the grocery to buy some kind of fruit to make a tart filling, I veered toward the apricots (they were giving off a very apricot-y scent). I figured a cooked apricot would taste more like an apricot than any fresh apricot I had had.

And they did, but they were also really, really tart. Do apricots get sweet? If I made this tart again I'd add a lot more sugar, and maybe leave out the lemon. Maybe the tartness of apricots is why lots of the tart recipes I saw added a cream cheese or frangipane layer.

I used a refrigerated pie crust, which I rolled out thinner to fit into my 10-inch tart pan (not sure I needed to, though; I had a bit of extra). Mixed sliced apricots with 5 tablespoons sugar, 1 1/2 tablespoon cornstarch, 1/2 tablespoon lemon juice and some zest. Arranged in a spiral, then baked at 425 for 15 minutes, then turned it down to 375 for another 25 minutes. Then I brushed it with melted cherry jam (what I had on hand), and I can't decide if that ruined the way it looked or added interesting color.

Another thing I noticed was that apricots are tiny, so the edges of my tart were too high. I'd form the tart edges lower next time.

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.

My mom didn't cook or bake very often, but my friend Nicole's mom did. I once raved over some banana-chocolate chip muffins she had made, so after that she would send Nicole to school with a baggie of muffins for me whenever she made them. One of the few signs that I would grow up to like being in the kitchen was that I was the resident banana-bread baker when I was a kid. Whenever the bananas would turn black, I'd get down the bread pan. This time I decided I'd make muffins with my mushy bananas, though, taking a lesson in portability from Nicole's mom.

I used a recipe from Basic Baking and substituted chocolate chips for the nuts. Next time I think I'd cut down on the spices, though; they kind of just compete with the chocolate. Maybe even just use cinnamon. Anyway, I whisked together 2 cups flour, 1 teaspoon each baking soda and baking powder, some salt and 1/2 teaspoon each ground cinnamon, ginger, cloves and nutmeg. Separately I mashed three overripe bananas with 1/4 cup oil, 1/3 cup brown sugar and 1 egg. Mixed that into the dry ingredients, added some chocolate chips (maybe about a cup), then baked the muffins in a regular-size 12-cup muffin tin in a 375 degree oven for 18 minutes. They're not very sweet muffins, almost seem kind of healthy, but then there's the chocolate. I liked them better at room temperature the second day.