About a year and a half ago, Randy started a new job.  He had spent 6½ years at Microsoft – a company known for their innovation, excellent benefits, fair pay, exciting opportunities, and grueling schedules.  Randy had a great career there but the work/life balance was out of whack.  When he had the opportunity to join a start-up, working with two close friends, he jumped.  (I wrote more about the job and the decision to take it here.)

Almost immediately, our lives changed for the better.  In the Microsoft days, Randy would leave before 6am and return home around 7:30pm.  He did this to avoid sitting in traffic which is epic on the 520 bridge – the span that connects Seattle to Redmond where the Microsoft headquarters are.  He was pretty good about not working on the weekends or in the evenings, but the job was ever-present.  Like the big elephant in the room that everyone tries to ignore.  He traveled nearly constantly toward the end of his time there.  When he was home, he was exhausted from time zone changes and the stress.  It was not a life that was sustainable for our family.  Fortunately he understood that and together we decided it was time to make a change.

The start-up was 2.1 miles from our house.  It had a more relaxed atmosphere – more work/life balance.  Randy is a self-described “type triple A” personality, so it’s not like he slacked off, but I truly felt like he put family first.  He was home around 6 every night and was able to help with drop-offs and pick-ups which allowed me to create my career and take the job as culinary director at Book Larder.

There were several scenarios for how the job at the start-up would play out and we talked about them from time to time.  Maybe the company would get bought.  Maybe he would get recruited for another job at another company.  Maybe the three friends would get hired as a power team to build something new.  I’m not sure that either of us thought that the company would just implode.  But sadly, that is what happened.

Fortunately, we had some warning.  A couple of months ago, we found out that, unless someone bought the company, the leadership team would be laid off at the end of May.  Randy was incredibly busy looking for a job, networking, taking recruiting calls, while simultaneously helping get the company get acquired and also just doing his day job.  And then, the last ditch effort didn’t work.  His last day was Tuesday.  The company is still there and there are a few people still working on business but Randy is officially unemployed.  We both feel sad about this for many reasons.  He poured a lot into that company both in sweat equity and money.  There are friends who no longer have jobs.  He is a little unmoored being without a job for the first time since he was 18 years old.  Our life and our future is very uncertain right now.

We are extremely lucky in that we have just about 100% certainty that he will get a great job.  He has been interviewing like crazy and has about 10 opportunities that are possible at the moment.  We have enough money stashed away that we don’t have to worry about this little interim period until the next job starts.  He is trying to enjoy having a bit of time and being able to focus on just talking to people and finding the right job.

Almost everyday for the past few weeks I have gotten calls from him about opportunities.  “Would you move to Boise?”  “Would you move to San Francisco?”  “LA?”  “Denver?”  “New Jersey?”  “Luxembourg?”  “South Korea?”  My answers to those questions are complicated.  I don’t want to move.  I want to stay in Seattle.  I want to continue to teach my classes at home and work cool events at Book Larder and stay near my incredible network of friends and my family.  After working so hard to find the right school for Graham, I don’t want to have to start that whole process again.  At the same time, I appreciate that the right job might not be in Seattle.  Randy is a fairly senior guy and those jobs are not a dime a dozen.  He is an amazing man – so smart, so successful, so hardworking.  He should be running a company – if not now then soon.  I can’t hold him back from the next step just because I don’t want to move.  He is respectful of my feelings and is trying hard to keep us here.  But neither of us knows what is next.

(Pardon the intense color on this photo.)

I went on a great blogging trip this week to Monetery with Dole to learn more about their salad greens.  I thought I was leaving on Tuesday but when when I went to print out my boarding pass on Monday night, I realized that the trip was actually Wednesday – Friday.  I was relieved.  I would be able to be home on Tuesday night and have dinner with Randy after his last day of work.  An emotional day for us both.  In order to keep the mood light, I asked him what he wanted me to make for dinner.  Of course he said Mexican.

I taught a class at Book Larder last month using some recipes from some of Rick Bayless’ books.  I love his recipes and decided to do a riff on one for Randy’s Last Day of Work Dinner.  I wasn’t sure what he would think – Randy is kind of a burrito/enchilada/quesadilla guy.  I wasn’t sure this “other” type of dish would fly.  I hate to say it was like a Mexican lasagne because that does a disservice to both Mexican food and lasagne.  But you make a sauce (a salsa really), you layer tortillas with yummy things like sautéed mushrooms and chard and beans cheese, and you bake it.  We loved it.  Like really loved it.  I’m glad that, along with a bottle of special wine and a big salad, we were able to toast the end of this chapter, and begin thinking about the next.

One Year Ago:  Roasted Sesame and Panko Coated Asparagus with Soy-Ginger Drizzle
Two Years Ago:  Chocolate Truffles, Gianduja Gelato
Three Years Ago:  Rhubarb Streusel Tart, Bean Tostadas with Sofrito, Niçoise Salad

Layered Pasilla-Tortilla Casserole with Black Beans, Mushrooms, and Chard
Adapted from Mexican Kitchen
Serves 4-6

I made a lot of changes to this recipe, added in some things, swapped out others, changed the size of the baking dish, but this is still a Rick Bayless recipe.  I used canned beans here because I was short on time but ideally, dried would be best.  This recipe has a lot of components but they come together quickly.  You can always make the sauce the day before.  I would imagine, like lasagne, the whole thing can be assembled earlier in the day and just kept in the refrigerator until you want to bake it.  Add another 5-10 minutes to the baking time if you do so.

For Pasilla Sauce:
½ head of garlic, broken apart but not peeled
6 medium (about 2 ounces) dried pasilla chiles, stemmed and seeded
1 tsp. dried oregano
½ tsp. ground cumin
Olive oil
1 cup vegetable broth
Kosher or sea salt

For the mushroom layer:
2 medium portabello mushrooms, black gills scraped out, thinly sliced
2 garlic cloves, minced
½ bunch of chard, leaves stripped off the stalks, roughly chopped

For the casserole:
1 small white onion, diced
2 cups cooked black beans (I used 1 15-ounce can, drained)
8 corn tortillas
½ cup sour cream or crème fraîche thinned with a little cream or milk
6 ounces cotija cheese

Make the sauce:
Roast the unpeeled garlic on an ungreased griddle or heavy skillet over medium heat, turning occasionally, until soft (they will blacken in spots), about 15 minutes; cool and peel.  While the garlic is roasting, toast the chiles on another side of the griddle or skillet.  Do 1 or 2 at a time:  open them first and press down firmly on the hot surface with a spatula; in a few seconds, when they crackle, even send up a wisp of smoke, flip them and press down to toast the other side.  In a small bowl, cover the chiles with hot water and let rehydrate 30 minutes, stirring frequently to ensure even soaking.  In a food processor or blender, combine the chiles, garlic, oregano, cumin, and about 1/3 cup of the soaking liquid.  Blend to a smooth purée, scraping down and stirring frequently.  (If necessary, add a little more broth to get the blades moving.)

With a rubber spatula, working the pasilla paste through a medium-mesh strainer into a bowl.  Heat about a tablespoon of oil in a medium saucepan, then add the paste and a pinch of salt.  Cook, stirring constantly, until dark and very thick, about 4 minutes.  Stir in the broth and simmer, partially covered, for 30 minutes.  Taste and season with salt.  Keep warm over very low heat.

Preheat the oven to 350ºF.

Make the  beans:
Heat about a tablespoon of oil in a medium skillet over medium heat.  Add the onion and a large pinch of salt.  Cook until brown in spots, about 10 minutes, then add the beans.  Using a potato masher or the back of a large spoon, mash to a coarse purée.  Add water or bean broth to thin the beans, if necessary, to an easily spreadable, but not runny, consistency.  Taste and season with salt.  Cover and keep warm.

Make the mushroom filling:
Heat another tablespoon of oil in a large skillet over medium-high heat.  Add the mushrooms and a large pinch of salt and sauté, stirring occasionally, until the mushrooms start to give off their liquid.  Add the garlic and continue to cook, stirring occasionally, until most of the liquid has evaporated.  Add the chard leaves and sauté until the chard is nice and soft and the pan is mostly dry, about 10 minutes.  Taste for salt and season as needed.

Assemble the casserole:
Spread about 1/3 of the sauce in the bottom of an 8×12-inch baking dish.  Put down a layer of tortillas, just barely overlapping.  Top with the beans, another layer of tortilla halves, another 1/3 of the sauce, half the cream, and half the cheese.  Top with the mushroom mixture.  Add a final layer with the remaining tortilla halves, remaining sauce, cream, and cheese.  Bake, uncovered, until bubbly, about 20 minutes.  Let stand for a few minutes to firm up, then cut into squares.

Part of cooking well, like dressing well, is knowing when to edit.  There is a point where the dish is close to being just right and you can either just trust that it is good, or you can keep adding to it and potentially ruin it.  I think this is a particular danger with vegetarian food.  Without the protein anchor, sometimes it might feel like you need to keep adding layers of flavor to make up for what is “missing”.  Too many layers of flavor is my main critique of Seattle’s vegetarian restaurants and why I almost never frequent them.

A dish doesn’t have to have a whiz! bang! pop! to be lovely.  I first got this idea from Tracy and her Angel Hair Pasta with Arugula and Lemon.  Every so often a dish sticks in my overstuffed brain and lately it has been this one.  As we were driving back from our decadent weekend in Walla Walla, I started dreaming of superfine pasta stuffed to the gills with arugula.  I had recently bought some angel hair in a lovely package and we were lucky enough to visit a goat cheese farm while in Walla Walla and had purchased some delightful mild feta.  I decided that, rather than make Tracy’s dish to the letter, I would just riff on it.

As it turns out, my dish is not much like hers.  That is what you get when you don’t actually consult a recipe you are trying to riff on!  But we loved this light and sunny pasta and it came together in no time.  I put some small cherry tomatoes in the oven to roast, got my pasta going, then satuéed shallots and red pepper flakes in a bit of olive oil.  I grated in the zest of a Meyer lemon and then waited for the pasta to cook.  Once it was just shy of al dente, I scooped it into the pan with the shallots and added lemon juice, lots of arugula, small cubes of feta, and the roasted tomatoes.  I used the pasta cooking water to loosen the sauce.  As I was tossing it all together, my mind was saying, “Olives! Pine Nuts! Parmesan!”, but I was able to edit and keep it simple.

One Year Ago:  Brown Sugar Pound Cake (I’ve probably made this cake more than any other)
Two Years Ago:  Zucchini and Olive Salad
Three Years Ago:  Ricotta Calzones with Sausage and Broccoli Rabe

Pasta with Lemon, Arugula, and Roasted Tomatoes
Dana Treat Original (but thanks Tracy for the inspiration)
Serves 2-3

My noodles were actually more like a cross between angel hair and spaghetti, so I’m suggesting you use spaghettini in the recipe below (it’s a thinner spaghetti).

Olive oil
20 small cherry tomatoes
Kosher or sea salt and freshly ground black pepper
1 large shallot, finely diced
½ tsp. red pepper flakes
Zest and juice of 1 Meyer lemon
4 ounces feta cheese, cut into small cubes
4 ounces arugula, plus more for garnish
8 ounces spaghettini

Preheat the oven to 375ºF.  Place the tomatoes on a small baking sheet.  Drizzle with olive oil and sprinkle with salt and pepper.  Roast in the oven until they soften, brown in spots, and start to collapse a bit, about 20 minutes.  Set aside.

Meanwhile, place a large skillet over medium heat.  Drizzle in just enough olive oil to coat the bottom of the pan, then add the shallots, red pepper flakes, and a large pinch of salt.  Sauté, stirring frequently, until the shallots soften and start to brown in spots, about 5 minutes.  Grate in the lemon zest and turn off the heat.

Meanwhile, bring a large pot of salted water to boil, then add the pasta.  Cook according the package directions until just al dente.  Taste it to make sure.  Using tongs, transfer the pasta to the skillet with the shallots.  Turn the heat to low and stir to coat the pasta with the shallots and pepper flakes.  Ladle in some pasta cooking water to loosen the sauce.  Add half of the arugula and keep tossing the pasta so that the arugula wilts.  Add the other half of the arugula along with the lemon juice, feta cheese, and the tomatoes.  Add more cooking water if the pasta seems too dry.  (You can also use olive oil if you prefer.)  Toss carefully.  Serve each portion topped with more of the arugula.

My parents are both Jewish and both from New York.  That means that, on a lot of Sundays, we ate Chinese food.  There were different places we went, some in Seattle proper, some on the little island suburb where I grew up.  No matter which restaurant we went to, several things remained constant.

First it was the tea.  My parents would let us drink tea with as much sugar as we wanted in it.  I think it was the late 70′s/early 80′s version of an iPad.  Something to distract us three kids so that they could attempt to have a conversation.  We would pour and pour and pour that sugar until it was a thick slurry at the bottom of the little tea cups, and then we would spoon it up like soup.  And then there was soup – wonton soup to be exact.  Those little perfect parcels in burn-your-tongue hot broth, just waiting for my teeth to burst them open.  I was always disappointed by the small ratio of wontons to broth.  I could have eaten 50 of them.  My parents always ordered “bean curd” which only they enjoyed since we three thought it was disgusting.  If only my ten-year old self had known how much I would grow to love tofu!  And finally, pork fried rice.  (Yes, Jews eating pork.  We were far from the only ones.)

Here is where I admit that I had never, until last night, made fried rice.  Here is also where I admit that the word “fried” scares me.  You will not find much fried stuff here.  I don’t make donuts and I can count on one hand the number of times I have deep fried.  I am scared of the technique, the mess, and the amount of fat in the food that is fried.  That last reason is why I never order fried rice in a Chinese restaurant, truthfully why I don’t often eat in Chinese restaurants.  (This is a gross generalization but I find Chinese food, in Seattle anyway, to be much greasier than other Asian food.)

Here is why I went for it.  I’ve been making this tempeh for my Spanish cooking classes.  It goes in the paella.  It is so good that, after the class is over and I am washing countless dishes, my fingers keep sneaking into the almost empty pot, hoping that some previously uncovered piece of tempeh will appear.  Doing this search reminded me of the pork fried rice of my childhood and how I would clumsily attempt to get as much of that pink-hued pork with my chopsticks.  I also realized that I sometimes have cold rice in the refrigerator and making something new with it is much more interesting than sprinkling it with water and microwaving it.  And finally, when you make something yourself, you can control how much oil goes into it.

I made this version with a bunch of scallions, a much-more-than-what-you-might-think amount of ginger, cold rice (every recipe you look at will tell you it has to be cold), my magical tempeh, frozen peas, a bit of sesame oil, and a fried egg on top.  The fried rice I remember had bits of scrambled-then-cut eggs throughout the rice, but I have finally realized that, since I go a little swoony every time a dish is described as being topped with a poached/fried/soft-boiled egg, it’s time to do more topping with eggs.

Want to know a little more about tempeh?  Check out this post.
One Year Ago:  Pane con Formaggio (Cheese Bread), Banana-Date Tea Cake
Two Years Ago:  Cinnamon Chocolate Ribbon Cake (I really like this post), Tabasco and Asparagus Quinoa
Three Years Ago:  Orange Cinnamon Biscotti, Southwestern Sweet Potato Gratin

Ginger Fried Rice with Roasted Tempeh
Dana Treat Original
Serves 3-4

I know some people like to grate their ginger on a microplane rasp, but I think it works best here to just chop it really fine.  Don’t skip the steaming step for the tempeh, it can taste bitter if it is not steamed first.

For the tempeh:
1 8-ounce package of tempeh (any flavor)
2 tbsp. soy sauce
1 tsp. sesame oil
2 tbsp. olive oil
1 tsp. smoked paprika

For the rice:
3 tbsp. canola or peanut oil, divided
1 bunch of scallions, white and green parts, thinly sliced
¼ cup fresh ginger, peeled and minced
Kosher or sea salt
About 4 cups cold rice
2 tsp. sesame oil
½ cup frozen peas, unthawed
3-4 eggs

Make the tempeh:
Preheat the oven to 375ºF.  Cut the tempeh into ½-inch dice.  Place in a steamer and steam for 10 minutes.  Meanwhile, whisk the soy sauce, the oils, and the paprika together in a small baking dish.  Pour the steamed tempeh into the same pan and place in the oven.  Roast, stirring occasionally, until the tempeh has absorbed all the marinade and it is starting to get browned in spots, about 25 minutes.  Set aside.  (The tempeh can be made up to 1 day ahead.  Allow to cool, then store in the refrigerator.)

Make the rice:
Place a large shallow pan over medium heat.  Drizzle in 2 tablespoons of the canola or peanut oil, then add the scallions, ginger, and a large pinch of salt.  Sauté until softened and starting to brown, about 4 minutes.  Add the rice, breaking up any clumps with your hands.  Cook, stirring occasionally, for 5 minutes.  Drizzle in the sesame oil, give the rice a good stir, then add the peas and the tempeh (you may not want to add all the tempeh).  Cook for another 5 minutes while you make the eggs.

Place a large non-stick pan over medium heat.  Drizzle in the last tablespoon of the oil.  Crack the eggs one at a time into the pan and cook until the whites are set but the yolks are still soft, about 4 minutes.

Serve the rice in bowls and top each with a fried egg.

As a food blogger, I have a choice.  I can make getting the shot and documenting the meal the priority, or I can make interacting with my guests and eating the meal the priority.  Guess which way it went last night.

When this mind-blowingly delicious dish first made it into the bowl, it was gorgeous.  A riot of color.  My friend Deb was here with kids and we had spent the early part of the evening catching up, dishing out pasta and chickpeas and carrots and hummus to our tribes while we drank white wine.  On the stove, our chickpeas were bubbling away in a pot of water and the onions and (veg) sausage were in a sauté pan making us hungry with their smell.  (There are few things in this world that smell better than onions sautéing, in my opinion.)  The kids, having not seen each other in a long time (a month is a long time when you are seven, six, five, and four), ran downstairs to play and I put the finishing touches on our dinner.

You know when you just know something is going to be good?  This recipe comes from Gail Simmons’ book Talking with My Mouth Full which is a memoir with just a few recipes.  I think she is very interesting and intelligent but the book just doesn’t do her justice (sorry Gail!).  However, if the rest of the recipes are as good as this one, I will recommend you buy the book anyway.  A quick glance at the ingredients list told me this would be a winner.  Lots of chickpeas, fresh artichokes, smoked paprika, spinach – some of my very favorite things.  I have been using more vegetarian sausage products so I knew swapping the kielbasa for Tofurkey would not be a problem.  I spooned us each a healthy portion and then paused.  Should I take a photo?  I’m hungry.  Deb is waiting for me in the dining room.  Where is my light?  Where is my memory card?  Which lens do I have on my camera?  Oh, look at all that steam – hard to capture that in a photo.  Screw it.  I’ll take one after we are done.

So this happened.  A picture that does not do this dish justice.  A kind of wilted flabby picture.  One you might very well pass by.  Don’t!  This stew has such a smoky hearty flavor and so many wonderful textures that I kind of fell in love with it.  I had planned to make it with frozen artichokes but then found some fresh beauties at the store and went that way instead.  I hear that frozen artichokes are a pretty acceptable substitute but when fresh are available, I always buy those.  I find breaking them down to be oddly meditative.  I know, there is so much waste! with fresh artichokes.  I’ll tell you what I tell my classes – get over it.

Finally, I used dried chickpeas in this dish because I really prefer them and I don’t think they take nearly as long to cook as most directions say.  With even a quick soak (2 hours), they cook up nice and tender in about 45 minutes.  But I’m sure canned would be fine here.  Use 2 15-ounce cans.

One Year Ago:  Lemon Cream Tart
Two Years Ago:  Black Bean Tostadas with Slivered Cabbage, Avocado, and Pickled Onions
Three Years Ago:  Butterscotch Spiral Coffee Cake

Chickpea, Artichoke, and Spinach Stew
Adapted from Talking with My Mouth Full
Serves 6-8

Gail says this serves 4 but it makes a HUGE amount of stew!  She adds 2 cups of stock to the dish, which would probably yield even more servings, but I opted to leave it out for a less liquid-y stew.  Next time I might add ½ a cup or so.

2 cups dried chickpeas, soaked overnight and drained
Olive oil
1 large onion, finely diced
2 garlic cloves, minced
½ pound vegetarian sausage (I like Tofurkey brand Italian style – use half a package)
One 28-ounce can diced Italian tomatoes
2 large artichokes, trimmed, chokes removed, hearts quartered and reserved in lemon water
2 tsp. smoked paprika
1 bay leaf
Kosher or sea salt
Freshly ground black pepper
10 ounces fresh spinach

In a medium saucepan, cover the chickpeas with 2 inches of water and bring to a boil.  Reduce the heat to low and simmer until the chickpeas are tender 45-60 minutes.  Add water as necessary to maintain level.  Drain the chickpeas and set aside.

Place a large heavy pot (like a Dutch oven) over medium heat.  Drizzle in just enough olive oil to coat the bottom of the pot, then add the onions and a large pinch of salt.  Cook until the onion begins to turn translucent, about 5 to 7 minutes, then add the garlic.  Cook for another 2 minutes, then add the sausage.  Continue to cook until the sausage starts to brown, about 10 minutes.  Add the tomatoes with their juices and cook until sizzling, about 4 minutes.  Add the artichoke hearts, smoked paprika, and bay leaf; cook for 5 minutes.  Add the drained chickpeas and bring to a boil.

Reduce the heat so that the stew simmers, then cover the pot and allow the artichoke hearts to cook through and the flavors to meld.  Check periodically to make sure nothing is sticking and add a bit of water as necessary.  When you can easily pierce an artichoke heart with a fork, remove the cover and start adding the spinach in batches.  Cook until all the spinach is wilted – this will take another 5 to 7 minutes.  Taste and adjust the seasoning as necessary.

Up until the age of 20, one of my favorite things to eat in the world was a tuna fish sandwich.  That was my go-to lunch whether eating out or at home.  There was a deli in my college town that put an absurd amount of tuna salad on a large soft roll and I would talk friends with cars into taking me to get one.  At home, I mixed my albacore with plenty of celery, a little mayo, and a dollop of mustard.  I piled it high on rye bread and topped it with tomatoes, pickles, lettuce.  Then, four years after I stopped eating meat, I stopped eating fish.  I contemplated having a special disclaimer for tuna fish sandwiches but ultimately decided that tuna fish is still, you know, fish.  So I said goodbye to my beloved sandwich.

Since then, sandwiches and I have not really gotten along, especially when eating out.  My experience of vegetarian sandwiches in restaurants go a little something like this:

• Dried out rye bread smeared with too much mayonnaise and topped with a slice of Swiss cheese that has started to go crusty around the edges, a not-quite-red tomato, and a hunk of iceberg lettuce.
• Massive slices of oily greasy foccacia slathered with oily greasy sun-dried tomato hummus on one half and oily greasy tapenade on the other, topped with oily greasy roasted vegetables.
• Very earnest whole wheat bread, smeared with cream cheese and topped with every vegetable under the sun including an entire garden’s worth of sprouts.

At home, it’s better.  Grilled cheese when dunked into amazing tomato soup is nice.  And I’m a total sucker for a tofu Bahn Mi.  But really, I prefer a wrap or a salad.  Or noodles.  Or really anything else.  I’m just not a sandwich gal.

This is not a sandwich.  It’s a tartine.  Verrrrrry different.  French.  Open faced.  One piece of really good bread.  Interesting and varied toppings.  Think crostini or bruschetta but bigger pieces of bread.  More like, um, a sandwich.  I like these very much.  They are terrific when you want to make something for lunch or dinner but don’t want to shop.  They are also terrific if you have a soup or salad that you are excited about and you just wanted something yummy to round out your meal.

Last week, I planned to make a salad that I was excited about and I had a new pan I was excited about and so tartines it was.  I made one with a labneh (kind of like a yogurt cheese), roasted tomato, and cilantro.  I made the other with a frittata made with shallots, cilantro pesto, harissa.  Except I was out of harissa so I used sambal oelek (a chile sauce).  Nothing super fancy but both were so much better than the sum of their parts.

So how about that pan?  One of the most common questions I get in classes is about what kind of pans I use.  I am lucky to have a decent arsenal of high quality stainless steel pans (All-Clad), a few Le Crueset pots, a beautiful copper double boiler (that is too pretty to use), and a few other assorted others. I rarely use use non-stick pans.  There are a few reasons for this.  It is nearly impossible to get a good brown on an onion (or a steak for that matter – not that I would know) with a non-stick pan.  Until recently, the coating on most non-stick pans would emit dangerous chemicals into your kitchen if left on high heat.  And really, I am just in the habit of using stainless or cast-iron for most things.

Except eggs.  And pancakes.  And grilled cheese sandwiches.  There is no substitute for non-stick in those situations, in my opinion.  I have a huge All-Clad non-stick pan that I use for very large frittatas but it isn’t the best for smaller quantities.  So when the Bialetti people offered to send me a new brightly colored perfectly sized pan, I jumped at the chance to say yes.

What can I say, this is a great little pan.  It is lightweight, has a handle that stays cool, a white bottom so you can easily see your food (why has no one else thought of this?), and is super SUPER non-stick.  I love it.  And I know you would too.  Want one?  Just tell me about your favorite pan in your kitchen and what you like to make with it.  I will randomly choose a winner on Tuesday, March 13th.  This contest closes at noon (PDT) on that day.  UPDATE:  This contest is now closed.  A winner has been chosen.

One Year Ago:  Sweet Potato Tian
Two Years Ago:  Tofu Cauliflower Kahri
Three Years Ago:  Goat Cheese Ravioli with Roasted Red Pepper Sauce

Tartine with Labneh, Slow Roasted Tomatoes, and Cilantro
Inspired by Dianna Henry’s Plenty
Serves 4

The labneh needs to sit overnight in the refrigerator overnight, so plan accordingly.  If you are going to go through the trouble of slow roasting tomatoes, you might as well do a larger batch.  Lay the leftovers in layers drizzled with olive oil in the refrigerator.

1½ cups 2% Greek yogurt
1 garlic clove, put through a press or very finely minced
Kosher or sea salt
8 plum tomatoes, cut in half and seeded
Olive oil
Freshly ground black pepper
¼ cup cilantro leaves, chopped
4 thick slices sourdough bread

Place the yogurt, garlic, and a pinch of salt into a bowl and stir well.  Line a sieve with cheese cloth and scrape the yogurt mixture into the sieve.  Place a bowl under the sieve and put the whole thing in the refrigerator overnight.

Preheat the oven to 300ºF.  Place the tomato halves on a baking sheet and drizzle with olive oil.  Sprinkle with a pinch of salt and a few grinds of pepper and roast until very soft and kind of shriveled, turning half way through the baking process, about 1 hour.  Set aside.

While the tomatoes are roasting, place the bread on another baking sheet.  Drizzle with olive oil and bake until just a tiny bit crispy on top, but still soft, about 10 minutes.  Set aside.

Smear a bit of the labneh on each slice of bread (you might have have some left over).  Lay down two tomato halves and scatter cilantro leaves over the top.  Season with salt and pepper to taste.

Tartine with Shallot Frittata and Cilantro Pesto
Dana Treat Original
Serves 4

1½ cup cilantro leaves
¼ cup coarsely chopped walnuts
Kosher or sea salt
1/3 cup olive oil
1 large shallot, finely diced
3 large eggs, beaten
4 thick slices sourdough bread
Harissa, or other hot sauce

Preheat oven to 325ºF.  Place the cilantro and walnuts in a food processor.  Sprinkle with a pinch of salt.  Process until a coarse paste forms.  Pour in the olive oil and pulse until you have a relative smooth pesto.  Set aside.

Place the bread on a baking sheet.  Drizzle with a bit of olive oil and bake until just a tiny bit crispy on top, but still soft, about 10 minutes.  Set aside.

Place a non-stick pan over medium-low heat.  Drizzle in a bit of olive oil and then add the shallots and a pinch of salt.  Sauté until very soft and starting to brown, about 4 minutes.  Pour in the eggs and swirl the pan around so that egg covers the surface of the pan.  Keep lifting the edges of the eggs up so the uncooked top layer can get a chance at the heat.  If you are very dextrous, you can flip the whole frittata over.  If not, just make sure the top of the frittata is cooked, then remove from the heat.

Slice the frittata into quarters.  Lay a quarter on each slice of bread and spoon a bit of the cilantro pesto over top.  Add just about a teaspoon of chile sauce to each tartine.

(Permit me a moment of apology for these photographs.  I know they aren’t pretty.  I know they don’t give a tasty dish its due.  I was rushing and brown potatoes are hard to photograph.  Also, it’s still dark at dinner time in these parts.  I thought about trashing them but I love these potatoes too much to keep them from you.)

Have you heard the term “Hallmark holiday”?  If you have not, it refers to the holidays that aren’t really holidays in the technical sense of the word, i.e. you still go to work, the mailman comes, and the banks are open.   But some people feel compelled on those days to shop for and send a card.  I’m talking about Mother’s Day, Father’s Day, Secretary’s Day, Arbor Day – you know.  I’m thinking there is a new term.  It’s “food bloggers holiday”.  These include the Superbowl, Back to School Day, Peanut Butter Day – you name it.  I think there is a special food for every day of the year and if you search for it, some food blogger somewhere has cooked something for it.

I am not that food blogger.  I would not say this is the blog that you come to for holiday food ideas, real or Hallmark.  I’m not the person who has a perfect Valentine’s Day cake baked a week ahead of Valentine’s Day.  Usually, I’m just not that organized.  I certainly appreciate the people who are.

If left to my own devices, I would probably have made this for St. Patrick’s Day on St. Patrick’s Day, and then posted about it days afterward suggesting it might be a good thing to make for next St. Patrick’s Day.  That’s kind of how I roll.  As it turns out, I will be out of town on St. Patrick’s Day and while I was thinking  “phew! I don’t have to wear green this year!”, I also started thinking about this dish and poof! dinner was born.

I have been eating baked potatoes for dinner since I was in my teens and first had a spud stuffed with vegetables and topped with cheese at a favorite, and now defunct, restaurant in Sun Valley.  I’ve done lots of combinations over the years but this is a bit dressed up and by far the best.  You cook thinly sliced onions until they are soft, then add bits of Guiness to make them even softer and browner, then you throw in some kale and cook the mixture until it wilts down.  Once the potatoes are cooked, you mash their innards with some butter, buttermilk, and mustard powder, then fold in the onions and kale.  Top the whole thing with some Cheddar cheese, bake until the cheese is melted, and you have a light entrée or hearty side.  I found this recipe in The Farm to Table Cookbook, one of my very favorite books by the very talented Ivy Manning.  I have included multiple recipes inspired by that lovely book on this site and I highly recommend it to anyone living in the Northwest or farther afield.

One Year Ago:  Chocolate Espresso White Chocolate Chunk Cookies
Two Years Ago:  Honey Nut Squares
Three Years Ago:  Butternut Squash and Apple Galette

Twice-Baked Irish Potaotes with Stout Onions and Kale
Adapted from The Farm to Table Cookbook
Serves 4

4 large russet potatoes, scrubbed
Olive oil
2 medium onions, thinly sliced
1 cup Irish-style stout
12 leaves dinosaur kale
1 cup buttermilk
2 tbsp. butter, at room temperature, cut into small pieces
½ tsp. mustard powder
Salt and freshly ground black pepper
1 cup grated Cheddar cheese

Preheat the oven to 400ºF.  Rub the potatoes with a bit of olive oil, sprinkle them with salt, and place directly on the oven rack.  Bake until they squish easily when gently squeeze, 45 minutes to an hour.

Place a large sauté pan over medium heat.  Drizzle in just enough olive oil to cover the bottom of the pan, then add the onions and a large pinch of salt.  Cook, stirring frequently, until they begin to brown, about 15 minutes.  Add a splash of the stout and scrape up any browned bits.  Continue to cook, occasionally deglazing the pan with the stout, until the onions are deep brown and all the stout is used, about another 25 minutes.

Tear the rough ribs and stems away from the kale and discard.  Roughly chop the leaves and add to the onion, tossing with tongs to wilt the leaves.  Cover and cook, stirring occasionally, until the kale is very tender, about 10 minutes.  Pour in a little water or a little stout if needed.

Carefully slice each potato in half.  Use a soup spoon to scoop out the flesh, leaving a ¼-inch thick shell on the bottom and sides.  Mash the flesh with the buttermilk, better, and mustard powder.  Gently fold in the onion-kale mixture and season with salt and pepper.  Mound the mixture into the potato shells, sprinkle the tops with cheese, and place on a baking sheet.  Bake until the cheese is melted, about 15 minutes, and serve warm.

I graduated from college with a degree in theatre.  I got plenty of “What are you going to do with a degree in theatre?”, though thankfully, not from my parents who were supportive of a less conventional major.  I attended a liberal arts college so there were plenty of English and Art History majors, but there were also lots of Economics and Government majors who all thought their degrees would be more “useful”.  My college roommate’s father allowed her to major in theatre but only if she double majored in Economics.  Not a lot of crossover in those two fields.

While I did not go on to become an actress, nor did I ever attempt to become an actress, I feel like my degree has been extremely useful in my life.  At the most basic level, I learned a lot about theatre and plays and I had a chance to read some of our greatest examples of literature.  Randy and I make it a priority to go the theatre and I am always amazed by how much knowledge I have retained.  (I can’t say the same about my math class.)  I got to experience putting on the makeup and costume of another person and becoming that person for a few hours every night.  I learned the art of working ahead – getting school work done a week before it was actually due so that I would have production week free from those pressures.  I also learned how to do work behind the scenes as a stage manager, makeup artist, costume assistant.  I learned that, no matter how intense the butterflies in my stomach, I would never actually throw up, and how to channel that adrenaline into a better performance.

Beyond those four years of acting, directing, reading, I also learned how to speak clearly, make eye contact, appear calm even when I am not, and use my voice effectively.  I’ve used those skills while performing in plays or singing in coffeehouses but also in every job interview I have sat through, every date I have been on, every presentation I have ever made, and every class I have ever taught.  Like many of my classmates, I would never have imagined myself doing what I do now when I was throwing my cap up in the air in May of 1992.  But I can’t believe how much I love it.

I know I mention my cooking classes here often but I don’t think I’ve mentioned how I feel about them.  I love teaching.  I really do.  I taught yoga from 2001-2003 and I loved that as well.  Sometimes a special thing happens between teacher and student, especially when the teacher is really passionate about what they teach, and I feel lucky to have experienced that feeling in two different spheres.  I am in planning mode for my spring quarter of classes and am really excited about what the next few months will hold.

Alas, teaching means testing.  And I don’t mean making my students take a test.  I mean searching out recipes, or developing my own, and making sure, time and time again if necessary, that they work.  I mean sometimes eating the same thing several nights in a row while trying to get it right.  It’s all worth it of course.  But sometimes, when I am gearing up for a busy couple of weeks, I miss just being able to, you know, make dinner.

I had a little window before my cooking life became not my own and I knew I had to take advantage of that freedom to just make something I wanted to eat.  Not test.  As is often the case, I got a little overwhelmed with choices.  I have so much bounty in terms of recipes between books, magazines, blogs, restaurant experiences – how to choose what to make.  Perhaps you are familiar with this feeling.  As I started to get overwhelmed and ordering pizza started to seem like a good idea, I opted to just stick with a cookbook that is relatively new to me and exciting.  It was the jumping off point for this salad and also has the least imaginative name ever.  But boy, did we love this dish.

We don’t often eat eggs for dinner.  You should know that as I’m typing that sentence, I am simultaneously promising myself that we will eat eggs more often for dinner.  I love a good poached/fried/soft-boiled egg but none of those options sound good to me at breakfast time.  It would make sense, seeing as I love them and that I am a vegetarian, that eggs would be a regular part of our dinner routine.  I’ve just never made them a priority.  But when I see a recipe like this one, really just an egg curry, and it speaks loudly to me, it is clear I need to rethink the egg and dinner relationship.  As I was getting ready to serve this lovely, filling, and nutritious dish, I decided it seemed a little thin, so I added chickpeas.  Not necessary, especially if you add more eggs, but I thought the combination was great.

Two Years Ago:  Red Lentil Dhal
Three Years Ago:  Oatmeal Chocolate Chunk Cookies

Sambal Telur
Loosely adapted from Vegetarian
Serves 4

4 eggs
2 tbsp. vegetable oil
4 shallots, 1 chopped for garnish, 3 thinly sliced
Kosher or sea salt
3 garlic cloves, minced
2-inch piece of ginger, finely minced or grated
1 tsp. coriander seeds, crushed
1 tsp. cumin seeds, crushed
½ tsp. ground tumeric
1 tbsp. sambal oelek, or other chile sauce
1 14-ounce can diced tomatoes
2 tbsp. tomato paste
1 14-ounce can coconut milk (can be “lite”)
1 tbsp. tamarind concentrate
1 tbsp. light brown sugar
1 15-ounce can chickpeas, rinsed and drained

Place the eggs in a medium saucepan and fill to cover with cold water.  Bring to a boil, then turn off the heat and set the timer for 6 minutes.  Immediately scoop out the eggs and place in a bowl of ice water to stop the cooking.  Drain and set aside.  (This amount of cooking time will give you an egg with a very soft yolk.  Let them sit for another minute, 7 total, if you like your yolk a little firmer.)

Place a large sauté pan over medium-high heat.  Drizzle in about 1 tablespoon of the oil.  Add the chopped shallots along with a healthy pinch of salt, and cook, stirring frequently, until cooked through and brown, about 5 minutes.  Shallots burn very easily so keep a close eye on them.  Scrape the shallots out onto a paper towel lined plate.  Set aside for the garnish.

Return the pan to the heat.  Pour in the other tablespoon of oil, then add the sliced shallots, garlic, and ginger, and cook for a minute.  Add the coriander, cumin, tumeric, sambal oelek, the canned tomatoes, and the tomato paste.  Sauté for 5 minutes, stirring frequently.

Stir in the coconut milk, tamarind, and brown sugar along with a large pinch of salt.  Bring to a boil and simmer for about 5 minutes until the mixture thickens.  Add the eggs and the chickpeas and simmer for a few minutes more to heat it all through.  Serve over rice and garnish with the fried shallots.

Last weekend, the boys and I went to the West Seattle farmer’s market.  It is one of the three markets that stay open all year.  Although it is a bit of a hike from our house, I like this market because it is food only, some of the very best vendors are there, it doesn’t feel crowded, they often have music and little seats set up for children, and it’s in the middle of a thriving business district.  The weather last week was glorious and it almost felt like spring was just around the corner.  A trip to the market made me realize that winter is definitely still here.

I find the farmers’ market inspiring, even in February.  After making that amazing Sweet Winter Slaw five times in two weeks, I had seen a lot of Savoy cabbage – but not like this one.  How could I not buy this beauty?  And with delicata squash in the basket right next to it, a dish began to form in my mind.  Green curry, lots of shallots, rice noodles, sweet squash, cabbage cooked down to wilted.  Sounds good, no?

It was good.  Lovely really.  Warming, hearty, healthy.  I think those three words are magic in the wintertime.  If you can find or create a dish that warms your toes, fills your belly, and doesn’t weigh you down, life is pretty good.

Allow me to try to convince you to make your own curry paste.  Yes, I know that you can buy a nice little jar of it that lasts almost indefinitely in your refrigerator.  I have two of those jars myself, one green and one red.  The problem is that the consistency is similar to cement, so it can be a little difficult to incorporate into a dish.  It also has essentially two flavors.  Hot and salty.  There is no nuance there.  Just spicy and savory.  Nothing wrong with that if you are having a curry crisis.  But homemade is quick to make, has much more subtle flavor, a much looser consistency, and will also keep for a while in your fridge.  (I would say a  month.  You can freeze it for up to six.)  The ingredients are all natural – lemongrass, jalapeño peppers, cilantro, shallot, garlic.  If you love these ingredients, please give the curry a try.

One Year Ago:  Spicy Sweet and Savory Cauliflower
Two Years Ago:  Pesto Parmesan Cornbread
Three Years Ago:  Red Curry with Winter Vegetables and Cashews (recipe for red curry in this one!  coincidence!)

Green Curry Noodles with Cabbage and Squash
Dana Treat Original
Serves 4

While you should never rinse your Italian style noodles, rice noodles do need a good rinse.  This step will keep them from sticking together.  Both Savory and Napa cabbage would work here.  I wouldn’t use green as it will take to long to soften and purple will turn your whole dish a crazy color.  Finally, if you do decide to use a commercial curry paste, I would start with one tablespoon and add more later to your taste.

10 ounces extra firm tofu, blotted dry and cut into 1-inch pieces
4 tbsp. soy sauce, divided (I like tamari)
8 ounces rice noodles, linguine width
Canola, peanut, or coconut oil
6 ounces shallots, peeled and thinly sliced
Kosher or sea salt
½ medium delicata squash, seeded, and cut into 1-inch chunks
1 carrot, peeled and cut into thin rounds
2-3 tbsp. homemade Green Curry Paste (recipe follows)
½ head Savoy cabbage, cored and thinly sliced
1 14-ounce can coconut milk (can be “lite”)
1 cup vegetable broth
½ cup chopped cilantro, plus a few whole leaves for garnish

Place the tofu in a large ziploc bag.  Sprinkle in two tablespoons of the soy sauce and give the bag a vigorous shake.  Allow the tofu to marinate while you prepare the noodles.

Bring a large pot of water to a boil.  Turn off the heat and add the rice noodles to the pot.  Allow to sit for ten minutes, stirring occasionally, then taste.  The noodles should be al dente.  Allow them to sit for another few minutes if they are too firm, then drain.  Immediately rinse very well with cold water.  Run your hands through the noodles to make sure the water reaches the ones on the bottom.  Allow to drain well.  Set aside.

Heat a large skillet over medium-high heat.  Drizzle in just enough oil to coat the bottom of the pan.  Carefully add the tofu to the pan, making sure that all the pieces are touching the bottom of the pan.  Allow to cook for about 3 minutes on one side then, using tongs, turn all the pieces over.  They may stick a little and that is ok.  If you have the patience, you can brown all sides of the tofu, but I usually stop at two.  Scrape the tofu to a plate and sprinkle with salt.  Set aside.

Return the skillet to the heat.  Drizzle in a bit more oil and then add the shallots and sauté, tossing occasionally, until the shallots are soft and starting to brown in places, about 6 minutes.  Add the squash and the carrot, then spoon in the curry paste.  If you are nervous about the heat, just use two tablespoons to start.  Give everything a good stir.  Add the cabbage and toss until the cabbage starts to wilt, about another 5 minutes.  Pour in the coconut milk and the broth and the other 2 tablespoons of soy sauce.  Toss to coat well, reduce the heat to medium-low and cover.  Cook for about 15 minutes, stirring occasionally.

Remove the lid and taste the broth.  You might want to add more curry paste or more soy sauce.  Once it is to your liking, add the tofu and chopped cilantro and cook for another 5 minutes.  Check the squash and carrot to make sure they are tender and also adjust the liquid amount to your taste.  If you prefer a saucier dish, add more stock.  If you want it drier, allow the mixture to cook without the lid to allow some of the liquid to evaporate.

To serve, place a bundle of noodles in the bottom of a shallow bowl and ladle on the vegetables and tofu in their sauce.  Garnish with cilantro leaves.

Green Curry Paste
Adapted from Real Vegetarian Thai
Makes about 1½ cups

1 tbsp. whole coriander seeds
1 tsp. whole cumin seeds
½ tsp. freshly ground black or white pepper
3 stalks lemongrass
4 fresh green jalapeño chilies, seeded for a milder heat, roughly chopped
¼ cup coarsely chopped fresh cilantro leaves and tender stems
2 medium shallots, chopped
3 cloves garlic, chopped
2 tbsp. chopped or grated fresh ginger
Zest of 1 lime
1 tsp. kosher or sea salt

In a small skillet over medium heat, dry-fry the coriander and cumin seeds until they turn a shade or two darker, shaking the pan and stirring often, about 3 minutes.  Turn out onto a plate to cool.  Grind the spices in a coffee grinder or with a mortar and pestle.  Set aside.

To prepare the lemongrass, trim away and discard any root section below the bulb base, and cut away the top portion, leaving a stalk about 6 inches long, including the base.  Pull off the out layer and then thinly slice the rest.

Combine the lemongrass, chopped chilies, cilantro, shallots, garlic, ginger, lime zest, salt, and spices in a mini food processor or a blender.  Pulse to combine to a smooth paste, scraping down the sides of the bowl as necessary.  You might need to add just a couple tablespoons of water to keep the blades moving.  Store in an airtight container in the refrigerator for up to one month.

OK, so now I am asking for your trust.  Trust me – those are not fingerling potatoes on the pizza – it is poorly melted smoked mozzarella – I bought the wrong kind.

Trust me – eggs are good on pizza.

Trust me – this combination of leeks, smoked mozzarella, and egg is magical.

Trust me – it may not be beautiful but it is tasty.

Last Thursday, as I was getting excited for night out with three of my lovely friends to a new super hot pizza joint, I got a message from Spencer’s teachers at preschool.  He was running a fever and I needed to come pick him up.  He was sleeping when I called back (a red flag – he never sleeps at preschool), but when I went to get him an hour later, I was shocked.  With kids running all over the room, chasing each other, doing art projects, eating snacks, my (not so) little baby was lying in the middle of the floor on a mat just staring off into space.  I dropped to my knees next to him and could feel the heat radiating off his body.

He let me carry him to the car (another red flag) and when we got home he was shaking so badly that he could not hold the little cup of Tylenol steady enough to put it to his lips.  Absolutely heartbreaking.  But that Tylenol is a wonder drug and after he was able to take it, with the help of an oral syringe, he seemed much better.

But not better enough to go to Cub Scouts with Graham and Randy that night and so, I had to email my friends and ask that they either go without me or come keep me and the patient company.  A flurry of emails when through the ether – yes, they would come over!  Yes, we could make our own pizza!  Yes, I have salad stuff!  Yes, I’ll bring what I have!  It is a great thing to have friends who are great cooks and like to eat.

So, we made our own pizza and salad to which we each contributed various things.  I had one hunk of dough, slow-roasted tomatoes, fresh mozzarella, and some leeks I had sautéed to silky.  Others contributed salad makings, another hunk of dough, a knob of smoked mozzarella, eggs, and wine.  What a great way to cook!  Coming together as a community and offering up yummy things.

So we made two pizzas and the standout, by far, was the one I drizzled with olive oil, then topped with a healthy mound of the leeks, thin slices of smoked mozarella, and – after it had been in the oven for a few minutes, two farm fresh eggs.  I can’t take full credit for the pizza, we all contributed.  And we all really loved it.

I  loved it enough to make it again a few nights later.  Even with the wrong mozzarella, it was really tasty.  I loved the contrast in flavors and textures.  Crisp savory crust (salting it is key), soft sweet leeks, smoky melty cheese, and a runny egg.  So good!  Unless you want want your cheese to not melt and to look like fingerling potatoes (which are delicious on pizza by the way – another pizza post for another time), do not buy the mozzarella that is braided and very firm.  Buy one that is cryovaced and soft and with some copper colored markings.

Pizza with Silky Leeks, Smoked Mozzarella, and Eggs
Dana Treat Original (with assistance)
Makes one medium size pizza, serves 3-4

I made this pizza with approximately one half of the recipe of my favorite pizza dough.  I put the other half in a ziploc bag and into the freezer.  The night before I wanted to use it again, I took it out and let it thaw in the refrigerator, then took it out and let it rise at room temperature for about an hour before using it.

Olive oil
4 large leeks
Kosher or sea salt
Freshly ground pepper
2 tbsp. fresh thyme leaves
6 oz. smoked mozzarella, very thinly sliced
2 large eggs
½ of Mark Bittman’s pizza dough

Place a pizza stone in the oven and turn the heat as high as it will go.

While the dough is rising for the second time and the oven is heating, place a very large skillet over medium heat.  Drizzle in just enough olive oil to coat the bottom and then add the leeks with a large pinch of salt.  They will be very crowded in the pan but will wilt down so don’t worry.  Give the leeks a few good stirs and then add the thyme leaves.  Turn the heat down to medium-low and let them cook, stirring occasionally, until they are silky soft and wilted, about 25 minutes total.  If at any time they seem to be browning, turn the heat down lower.  If necessary, add a bit of water to keep them from browning.  (Browned onions are good, browned leeks are not.)  Once they are really soft, if there is quite a bit of liquid in the pan, turn the heat back up to medium and cook until most of the liquid has evaporated.  Seasons to taste with salt and pepper and set aside.

Sprinkle cornmeal on a pizza peel and stretch the dough out to your desired shape.  Place the dough on the prepared peel and drizzle the surface with about 2 tablespoons of olive oil.  Sprinkle about 1 teaspoon of salt over the top.  Mound the leeks on the dough leaving a small border around the edge and top with the thin slices of smoked mozzarella.  Slide the pizza off the peel and onto the baking stone.  Bake for 5 minutes.

Crack the eggs into a small ramekin.  At the end of 5 minutes, slide the oven rack with the stone on it out enough to put the eggs on the pizza.  Be very careful because everything is super hot at this point.  Put one egg on one part of the pizza and the other on another part.  Push the rack back in and cook for another 4-5 minutes, until the crust is brown and the eggs are set.  (If you want your eggs runnier, you can add them later in the process.)

Slice and serve.

At the ages of seven and almost five, my children often say funny things.  Long ago a friend recommended that I write down their cute little sayings, insisting that I wouldn’t remember.  It was one of those ideas that made perfect sense at the time and yet is something that I just never did.  And, although I thought I could rely on my very good memory, I don’t remember all the cute little things they have said over the years.  The only ones I remember are those I wrote down on this blog, captured either with my phone or the flip camera, or the ones I told so many times that they are burned into my memory.

Last night, Graham said, “I have a good idea. If people want to eat your yummy food, we could open a window in our house, just like Taco Time!”

And now for some clarification.  First of all, Taco Time is not Taco Bell.  It is a locally owned fast food-ish place where the emphasis is on fresh.  I haven’t eaten at Taco Bell since my early 20′s but I don’t mind Taco Time.  Second of all, I’m not a drive-thru kind of person but last summer our beloved babysitter took them through there and on to the park where they had a picnic.  They are still talking about it six months later.  Third of all, when Graham was the praises of my food, he was not talking about this Two Potato Vindaloo.  He was talking about a taco (sense a theme?) that I made him with black beans, cheese, homemade salsa and guacamole.

So no, we are not quite at the point where I feed my children Two Potato Vindaloo although I think that Graham, my hearty and relatively adventurous eater, would probably have liked it.  I have, oh, about one ton of leftovers in the refrigerator so maybe we will give it a try tonight.  I know that Spencer would not touch it.  But I bet, if I opened a take-out window in my house (a friend on Facebook called it the Dana Treat Drive Thru), I would sell out of this dish.

This recipe comes from the beloved Plenty cookbook.  I swear this book has magic powers.  I feel like each time I open it, there are delicious things in there that I have never seen, never noticed.  This recipe, starring both red potatoes and sweet potatoes, I always notice and the only reason I haven’t made it until now is that I don’t always have fresh curry leaves on hand.  You could, of course, leave them out, but I dearly love curry leaves and just the scent of them as they hit the pan reminds of me the year we lived in London and all the amazing Indian food I ate there.

I made a few changes, streamlined the cooking time.  Ground spices instead of toasting whole ones and then grinding them.  Canned tomatoes instead of fresh (have you seen “fresh” tomatoes in Seattle these days?  Yuck.)  I have the British version of the book so I always tweak the recipes a bit with the measurements and all.  Having made so many delicious things from this book, I have learned to trust Mr. Ottolenghi’s taste.  I hesitated at the amount of vinegar in this dish but the acidity cut through the any heaviness that curries can sometimes have and also helped boost the flavor of the spices.  I’m telling you, that man is a genius.  The only other thing I can add is that, unless you are vegan, definitely add a dollop of plain yogurt to your bowl.  More acidity and some creaminess are most welcome in this curry.

One Year Ago:  Gingerbread with Maple Cream Cheese Frosting
Two Years Ago:  Black Bean Chilaquile
Three Years Ago:  Milk Chocolate Frosted Layer Cake

Two Potato Vindaloo
Adapted from Plenty
Serves 6-8

Unless you live near an Indian grocery, fresh curry leaves can be hard to find.  If you do use them, they are totally edible.  I like the way they taste but you can also pick them out like bay leaves.  I know some people substitute bay leaves for curry leaves (I haven’t tried it – the flavors are not the same), but if you do I would only use four of them and be sure to pick them out before serving.  Don’t worry if you don’t have fenugreek seeds – just leave them out.

½ tsp. ground cardamom
1 tsp. ground cumin
1 tsp. ground coriander
½ tsp. ground tumeric
1 tsp. paprika
1 tsp. ground cinnamon
2 tbsp. vegetable oil (I used coconut oil)
6 large shallots, peeled and finely chopped
½ tsp. mustard seeds
½ tsp. fenugreek seeds
Kosher salt
12 large or 24 small curry leaves
2 tbsp. finely chopped fresh ginger
1 fresh red chile, seeded and finely chopped
1 14-ouce can diced tomatoes
3 tbsp. apple cider vinegar
2 cups water
1 tbsp. sugar
1 pound red potatoes, cut into 1-inch chunks
1 large red bell pepper, cut into 1-inch chunks
1 large sweet potato, cut into 1-inch chunks
Mint and/or cilantro to garnish

In a small bowl, combine all the spices except the mustard seeds and fenugreek seeds.  Set aside.

Place a large heavy based pot over medium heat.  Add the vegetable oil along with the shallots, mustard seeds, fenugreek seeds, and a large pinch of salt.  Sauté for about 8 minutes, or until the shallots brown.  (You might want to have a lid handy in case the mustard seeds start to pop.)  Stir in the spice mix, curry leaves, ginger, and chile, and cook for a further 3 minutes.  Add the tomatoes (with their juice), vinegar, water, sugar, and another pinch of salt.  Bring to a boil, then leave to simmer, covered for 10 minutes.

Add the potatoes and red peppers and simmer for another 20 minutes.  For the last stage, add the sweet potatoes.  Make sure all the vegetables are just immersed in the sauce (add more water if needed) and continue cooking, covered, for about 20 more minutes, or until the potatoes are tender.

Remove the lid and leave to bubble away for about 10 minutes to reduce and thicken the sauce.  Serve hot with plain rice and garnished with herbs.  Serve yogurt for garnishing at the table.