Sometimes when I am at my cooking maximum, I somehow find the energy to add one more thing.  I’m tapped, I’m tired, I’m starting to make stupid mistakes, and then I see something that sparks me – makes me perk up.  I somehow find time to squeeze in this one more thing even though that bit of time could be of more value in other ways.  And sometimes there is pay off, even though it may not seem that way at first.

What am I talking about?  Well, this has been quite a week for me and it’s not over yet.  I taught classes Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday, and today I will be spending the entire day in the kitchen prepping lunch for tomorrow’s yoga retreat on Bainbridge Island.  Everything has to be done today because I take a 7:55am ferry over there tomorrow.  Normally, I spend a couple of days prepping but because of all the teaching, everything will be compressed into one day.  Did I mention that my husband has been out of town?  Yes, that too.  I’m getting through by literally taking one day at a time.  I can’t even think about the next project until I finish the current one.  Nothing that can’t be used that very day gets made or done.  Stay Focused Dana has been my mantra.

So yesterday, precisely 40 minutes before I had to leave to pick up my children, precisely 2 hours before my students started knocking on my door, with precisely 57 different dishes in the sink or scattered around the counter, I decided to make Spice Crispies.  The recipe caught my eye as I was making my favorite Chex Mix and suddenly, I was overtaken with the urge to create yet more dirty dishes and food.

Fast as lightning, I preheated the oven, gathered ingredients, poured, sautéed, stirred, scraped, baked, washed, wiped, and as I was cursing myself because now I was even more behind than I had been before, a most amazing smell started wafting from my oven.  I pulled the tray out, whisked it off to the dining room for a quick photo in the fading light, and took a taste.  Weird.  Interesting.  Not sure.  Waste of time?  Maybe.  And then off to finish out my evening, the Spice Crispies all but forgotten.

After the class and after the clean-up was over, I remembered that I had stashed the tray in our study and a miraculous thing happened while they cooled completely and set up.  These little clusters of cereal and spice had become something totally addictive and truly tasty.  Even the raisins, which had become hard little nuggets, kind of like what happens to them in oatmeal raisin cookies, had their own unique appeal.  I have a feeling that I am going to get a lot of questions about this little snack mix this weekend – it is intriguing.  I wish I had the time to come up with beautiful metaphors describing the unusual yet delicious flavors in this snack, but I have a task list a mile long for today.  Just trust me when I say that I really should be doing 100 other things rather than writing this post and yet, here I am doing just that.  Have a great weekend.

One Year Ago:  Roasted Tomato Salad with Croutons, Meyer Lemon Risotto Cakes
Two Years Ago:  Chickpea, Chard, and Couscous Soup, Soba Noodles with Crispy Tofu and Vegetables
Three Years Ago:  Orange Pound Cake

Spice Crispies
Adapted from Food & Wine
Makes about 4 cups

If you want to keep the raisins from getting totally crunchy, I imagine you could add them half way through the baking time. 

2 cups Rice Krispies or other puffed rice cereal (2 ounces)
¼ cup salted roasted cashews
¼ cup salted roasted peanuts
¼ cup wide coconut flakes
¼ cup raisins
3 tbsp. peanut oil
1 tsp. yellow mustard seeds (DT:  I used brown)
½ tsp. fennel seeds
½ tsp. cumin seeds
¼ tsp. crushed red pepper
4 large fresh bay leaves (DT:  I used dried)
3 tbsp. light corn syrup
Juice of half a lemon
½ tsp. kosher salt

Preheat the oven to 325ºF and line a baking sheet with parchment paper.  In a large bowl, toss the rice cereal with the cashews, peanuts, coconut flakes, and raisins.

In a small saucepan, heat the oil until shimmering.  Add the mustard seeds and cook over moderately high heat until they begin to pop, about 1 minute.  Add the fennel and cumin seeds, crushed red pepper, and bay leaves and toast, stirring, until fragrant, about 1 minutes.  Add the corn syrup, lemon juice, and salt and bring to a boil.  Drizzle the hot syrup over the cereal over the cereal and nuts and toss with a spoon until evenly coated.

Spread the mixture on the baking sheet and bake for 25 minutes, stirring once or twice, until the nuts are golden.  Let cool; discard the bay leaves.

(Can be stored in an airtight container at room temperature for up to 4 days.)

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.

Randy and I used to get Thai food almost every Friday night for dinner.  Or at least every Friday night that wasn’t a date night.  It was our wind-down from a long week, a break from cooking for me, and something we both enjoyed.  Seattle has great Thai food and there are five or six places nearby that we like.  After a few years of this tradition, I started to feel like the food tasted great but I could just see how unhealthy it was.  The oil slick in the bottom of the noodles dish, the coating on my tongue from the curry.  Tasty but not healthy.  And so, we opted for other food on Friday nights, namely my cooking.

Earlier this week, Graham had surgery for a hernia.  It sounds bad but the truth is that children recover surprisingly quickly from this type of surgery.  He has had one other operation, an umbilical hernia repair.  This was an operation to repair his belly button which was sticking out more than normal – really a cosmetic procedure.  So now, at the grand old age of seven, he has had the same number of surgeries as his 41-year old mother.  (I’ve had 2 c-sections.)

Because the doctors and nurses were so blasé about the surgery and how quickly it would be over and how well he would do, I planned to make dinner.  But of course they did not start on time and the operation took an hour instead of a half, and they kept him in recovery longer because he was having pain.  (The recovery room nurse asked him how he was feeling and he said, “I would feel better if my penis didn’t hurt so much.”)  I got to go back in the OR with him to hold his hand while they put him under with strawberry scented gas and watching his little eyes flutter closed broke my heart.  It became clear, on the eventual drive home, that take-out was our dinner option.  It had been so long since our last Thai dinner that I thought it sounded good.  And it was good.  But after a few bites, I remembered why we stopped our regular practice.  I carefully picked my noodles out of the slick and decided that this was a once in a while treat.

I love those flavors and I love that food, but I don’t love the grease or the stomach ache I often get after eating it.  I have an ever rotating line up of Asian noodle dishes that I love and I’m happy to add this Heidi Swanson recipe to the roster.  Normally I use rice noodles but I appreciated a bit more heft from the wheat based udon noodles in this dish and the sauce was drinkable.  Seriously.  I tweaked a bit.  I added cilantro to the cooked sauce, I sautéed the shallots to almost burnt for the garnish because I don’t like members of the onion family to be raw.  I added a bit less liquid and then second-guessed myself.  All the things you do with a good recipe to make it more to your taste.  Delicious.

 One Year Ago:  Hearty Beans and Rice and Butternut Squash and Cashew Curry
Two Years Ago:  EggNog Pound Cake with Crystal Rum Glaze and Chickpea, Lentil, and Vegetable Stew
Three Years Ago:  Penne with Greek-Style Vegetable Marinade

Big Curry Noodle Pot
Adapted from Super Natural Cooking
Serves 3-4

2 tbsp. coconut oil or vegetable oil, divided
2 medium shallots, sliced into thin rings
Kosher salt
8 ounces dried Asian style wide noodles, such as udon
1 onion, chopped
2 garlic cloves, minced
2 tsp. Thai red curry paste
12 ounces extra-firm tofu, cut into thumb-sized slices
1 14-ounce can coconut milk
1½ cups water
2 tsp. ground tumeric
2 tbsp. shoyu sauce, or other soy sauce
1 tbsp. light brown sugar
Juice of 1 lime
¼ cup peanuts, chopped
½ cup cilantro leaves, chopped, divided

Place a large saucepan over medium-high heat.  Add 1 tablespoon of the coconut or vegetable oil, then add the shallots.  Allow to cook undisturbed until golden brown on the underside, about 3 minutes.  Flip over and cook for another 1-2 minutes, until very brown.  Tip out onto a paper towel lined plate and season with salt.  Set aside.

Return saucepan to the burner and reduce heat to medium.  Add the other tablespoon of oil and then add the onions.  Cook for five minutes, then add the garlic and red curry paste.  Mash the paste around in the pan to distribute it evenly.  Cook until nice and fragrant, just a minute or two.  Add the tofu and gently stir until coated with the curry paste.  Stir in the coconut milk, water, tumeric, soy sauce, and sugar, bring to a simmer, and simmer gently until the sauce gets nice and thick, about 20 minutes.  Stir in half the cilantro leaves and the lime juice.

Meanwhile, cook the noodles in plenty of salted water according to the package directions.  When they are just shy of done, use tongs to transfer them directly to the saucepan with the curry sauce.  Stir in the lime juice.  To serve, heap big piles of noodles into individual bowls and top with a generous ladle of the sauce.  Top with peanuts, shallots and the remaining cilantro.

How do you feel about cilantro?  If you think about it, it’s a fascinating herb.  You will find it in many culture’s food that is quite different from one another.  Indian, Mexican, and Southeast Asian cooking, for example.  Being a huge fan of Indian, Mexican, and Southeast Asian food, I can’t imagine my life without cilantro.  It is probably the herb I use most in my cooking, with the possible exception of thyme, and that is because I have thyme growing at the bottom of the stairs to my house.

I understand that some people don’t like cilantro.  And by not liking it, I mean they have a true aversion to it.  I had a doctor in one of my Thai cooking classes and she said that is indeed true that some people carry a gene that makes cilantro taste like soap.  So if you carry that gene, my apologies and seeing as this recipe has an entire bunch of cilantro in it, this dish is not for you.  Sorry.

This is a favorite dish from Jack Bishop’s A Year in a Vegetarian Kitchen.  It is one of those recipes that takes next to no time and yet produces a seriously tasty result.  You start an onion sautéing on the stove, whir together some tomatillos, jalapeños, oregano, and a lot of cilantro in a blender, mix it all together with some hominy, and let it cook for about 15 minutes.  While it cooks, you thinly slice some romaine lettuce, radishes, quarter some cherry tomatoes, and cube some avocado.  Ladle the hominy mixture in a bowl, top it with the fresh stuff, and dinner is served.  Randy and I like heat so I seeded one of the jalapeños and left the seeds and membranes in the other one.  It was perfect for us but if you are unsure – go ahead and seed both of them.

Finally, just to answer some questions about hominy.  Hominy is a type of corn but it is much starchier and larger than the corn kernels that we know and love.  Its texture and size is necessary here – regular corn would make this a rather anemic stew.  I found mine in canned vegetable aisle near the corn.  White or yellow works.

One Year Ago:  Brown Rice Bowl with Soy Sauce Marinated Tofu and a Fried Egg
Three Years Ago:  Potato Fennel Gratin

Posole Verde
Adapted from A Year in a Vegetarian Kitchen
Serves 4

My only word of warning is that the cilantro mixture, which is vibrantly green in the blender, will turn a mossy shade of green as it cooks.  Do not be alarmed, the vegetable mixture on top is nice and colorful.

1 bunch coarsely chopped cilantro stems and leaves (about 2½ cups)
¼ cup fresh oregano leaves
6 ounces tomatillos, husked, washed, and halved
2 medium jalapeños, stemmed and seeded
2½ cups water
Canola oil
1 large onion, chopped
4 medium garlic cloves, minced
2 15-ounce cans white or yellow hominy, rinsed and drained
Sea salt

Garnishes
1 medium head romaine lettuce, thinly sliced crosswise
Handful cherry tomatoes, quartered
4 medium radishes, thinly sliced
1 small avocado, diced
Flour or corn tortillas, warmed

Place the cilantro, oregano, tomatillos, chiles, and 1 cup of the water in a blender and purée, scraping down the sides of the jar as necessary, until smooth, about 1 minute.

Place a sauté pan over medium heat.  Drizzle in just enough canola oil to coat the bottom then add the onion along with a large pinch of salt.  Cook until golden, about 6 minutes.  Add the garlic and cook until fragrant, another minute or so.  Add the cilantro mixture, hominy, remaining 1½ cups water, and bring to a boil.  Reduce the heat and simmer to blend the flavors, about 15 minutes.  Adjust the seasoning, adding salt to taste.

Ladle the posole into bowls and serve immediately, passing the lettuce, tomatoes, radishes, avocado, and tortillas at the table.

So, how was it?  Thanksgiving, I mean.  And if you are in a country other than the U.S., how was your Thursday?  Our feast was lovely.  We had a much smaller group than in years past – just our core group and both Randy and I decided that we like smaller better.  (With no offense to those out there who have joined us in years past.)  Aside from the turkey, the food at Thanksgiving doesn’t stress me out.  The dishes are all fairly simple and when you do a lot of dinner parties, as we do, you get good at making lots of food for lots of people.  It is the all-the-food-coming-out-of-the-oven and every-sitting-down-at-once part that is stressful.  But when you only have one table full of people, as opposed to the two we had last year, it all comes together quite nicely.

If I was a turkey eater, I would most likely still be posting some kind of turkey soup or, who know, turkey lasagne during this weekend after Thanksgiving.  Can I say a word about turkey?  If I were ever to go back to eating meat, turkey is probably the last thing that I would add in to my diet.  I would eat a hamburger before I would eat turkey – I’d probably eat a geoduck before I ate turkey.  The guys in our group smoke cigars after the big meal, a tradition that goes way back, and I prefer the lingering smell of stale cigar smoke in my house to the smell of turkey.  So, suffice it to say, this is not turkey soup.  It actually has nothing to do with Thanksgiving and, if you read a lot of food blogs and have been inundated with Thanksgiving posts, you are probably glad to know that.

This is a simple weeknight curry.  I have been craving curry lately and I thought about doing an Indian feast using my Rasa books, but just a stroll through the table of contents made my eyes flutter in exhaustion.  The recipes in my books are not difficult but decisions and pairings had to be made and some days, that is too much to ask of me.  So I went a simpler route.

Weeknight curry can cure a lot of dinner ills in this world.  It is easy, it is adaptable, it is inexpensive, and it can feed many.  It is also satisfying and tasty and filling and doesn’t need much else beyond rice to make a full meal.  I have made this recipe many times and while I still buy the main ingredients (potatoes, sweet potatoes, cabbage), I now tailor it more to what I have in the house and the amount and type of spice that I am accustomed to.  I never make it the same way twice and I encourage you to add and subtract based on what you have already and what you like.

One Year Ago:  Burnt Sugar Bundt Cake
Three Years Ago:  Breton Apple Pie

Potato and Vegetable Curry
Adapted from Simple Vegetarian Pleasures
Serves 4

Olive oil
1 onion, diced
3 garlic cloves, minced
1 1-inch piece fresh ginger, peeled and minced
2 tsp. curry powder
1 tsp. cumin
1 tsp. coriander
1 cinnamon stick
Pinch of cayenne
1 15-0unce can diced tomatoes, drained
4 medium red-skinned potatoes, cut into ½-inch pieces
1 large sweet potato, cut into ½-inch pieces
½ a head green cabbage, cored, cut in half lengthwise, and thinly sliced
1 15-ounce can “lite” coconut milk
1 cup frozen peas
Sea salt and freshly ground black pepper
Cilantro leaves, for garnish (optional)

Place a large skillet over medium heat.  Drizzle in just enough olive oil to coat the bottom of the pan, then add the onions and a large pinch of salt.  Cook, stirring often, for 5 minutes.  Add the garlic and ginger and cook for another two minutes.  Add the spices and cook for another minute, stirring constantly.

Stir in the tomatoes, followed by the potatoes, sweet potatoes, and cabbage.  Allow to cook for several minutes, then pour in the coconut milk.  Bring to a boil, then reduce the heat so the curry simmers, then cover the pan.  Cook about 20 minutes, or until the vegetables are tender.  Stir in the peas and cook for another few minutes, or until the peas are hot throughout.  Remove the cinnamnon stick and serve with basmati rice.

If you have been reading here for any time at all, then you know I have two children.  Boys.  First grade and pre-K.  If you have been reading for a bit of time, you might know that those two boys are vegetarian.  Like me.  I’m sure they will eat meat at some point but for now, I am the cook in the family and I only cook vegetarian.  And to keep things uncomplicated and black and white, the boys are veg.

What you may not know is that my boys, the ones who are, ahem, vegetarians, don’t really eat vegetables.  Not for lack of trying.  We offer, they decline.  They like carrots and will eat an alarming amount of celery if it has peanut butter and raisins on it, but that is pretty much it.  And actually, I really should say that Graham (older) will eat broccoli and peas but Spencer (younger, pickier) will not.  We went to a friends’ house recently and they served the boys peas and Spencer put one in his mouth at a time and washed it down with a gulp of milk.  Just like he was taking a pill.

Do I worry about this lack of vegetable eating?  No.  I remember my pediatrician saying that ideally a child eats both fruits and vegetables but as long as they eat one or the other, there is no need to worry.  Considering that my boys eat fruit at all three meals and sometimes for a snack, and considering that I prefer not to worry if worrying is not necessary, I don’t worry.  I also don’t believe in hiding vegetables to try and trick my kids into eating them.  If I put a vegetable in something, like this mac and cheese, I tell them it’s there.

So last night, I made squash hummus.  My timing was good – Graham’s school is starting a new program where each grade works with a certain vegetable and the rest of the school has an assignment to actually eat that vegetable.  This week it is squash.   He was actually assigned to eat squash.  He was telling me this as I was literally taking it of the oven and he looked at me with that sweet almost 7 year-old wonder of, “My mom is magic!”

Normally, I would have to say I’m a hummus purist.  Hummus is chickpeas, tahini, lemon juice, a small clove of garlic, salt, pepper, olive oil, and maybe a sprinkle of cumin.  That is how I make it, that is how I like it.  Calling something that does not have chickpeas or tahini in it “hummus” bothers me.  But adding something, a vegetable I happen to love, to hummus can still be called hummus, according to the Dana Treat rules.

So how was it?  Good.  Sweeter and more yellow than my regular hummus.  Thicker too.  Most importantly, my kids loved it.  I called it squash hummus – there was no trickery going on here.  Spencer requested that I keep his squash separate and when I told him that was impossible, he just dug in anyway.  I was helped by the fact that I made flatbreads to go with it which fascinated the boys.  They scooped, ate, and scooped again.  The other boy in my family – that would be my husband – was equally smitten with both the flatbreads and the hummus, the latter of which he started eating with a spoon when the bread ran out.

Two notes.  The hummus recipe calls for a 2/3 pound butternut squash.  I know we live in squash country and they grow nice and big in our climate, but I have never seen anything close to a squash that small.  In many grocery stores, they sell pre-cut and seeded chunks of squash which is what I bought.  It doesn’t matter what type it is.  And if you suffer from yeast/dough fear, this flatbread is a great place to start.  It is foolproof and if you roll it into shapes that are other than circles, it will look extra cool.

Squash Hummus
Adapted from Fresh from the Garden
Makes about 3 cups

All food should be done to your taste but I think this is especially true of things like hummus and salad dressing.  Start with this recipe and then add more olive oil (or more water) if you want a looser consistency and be sure to add more salt if it needs it.  I added a bit more lemon juice to mine too.

1 small squash (about 2/3 pound)
1 15-ounce can chickpeas, rinsed and drained
1 small garlic clove, minced
2 tbsp. tahini paste
Juice of 1 lemon
2 tbsp. olive oil
2 tbsp. water
Sea salt and coarsely ground black pepper

Preheat the oven to 375ºF.  Cut the squash in half and scrape out the seeds.  Drizzle the cut surfaces with olive oil, then wrap it in foil.  Bake for about an hour – until a knife easily pierces the flesh.  Set aside to cool enough to handle.

Scrape out the squash flesh into the bowl of a food processor fitted with the steel blade.  Add the chickpeas, garlic, tahini, lemon juice, a large pinch of salt and a few grinds of pepper.  Pulse to combine.  With the machine on, pour the olive oil and then the water through the feed tube.  Stop and scrape down the sides, then continue to process until you have a nice smooth consistency.  Adjust the seasoning to your taste.

Rosemary Flatbread
Makes 6 medium-sized breads

I make bread often and it is rare, unless I am making the no-knead version, to have the dough actually double in size in a short period of time.  Don’t worry about it, just continue with the recipe.

1½ cups all-purpose flour
½ tsp. dried yeast
2 tbsp. fresh rosemary, finely chopped, plus extra for topping
1 tbsp. olive oil plus extra for brushing
Sea salt

Place the flour in a medium bowl and add the yeast.  Add 2/3 cup tepid water, the rosemary, olive oil, and a pinch of salt, and start mixing it all together to form a rather sloppy dough.  If your mix is too dry, add a bit more water.  If the mix is too wet, add a little more flour.

Once you have a ball of dough, take it out of the bowl and knead on a floured surface for 5 minutes, until it is elastic and slightly tacky.  Leave the dough to rest in a warm place under a damp kitchen towel for 1 hour; until it has about doubled in size.

Preheat the oven to 400ºF.  Line two baking sheets with parchment paper.

Break off about 1/6th of the dough and, using your hands, roll it into a ball.  Place on a floured surface and roll out to a thickness of about 1/8th of an inch.  Repeat until you have used all the dough.  Transfer to the prepared sheets and brush each flatbread with olive oil.  Sprinkle with a little salt and more rosemary.

Place the sheets in the oven for 12 to 15 minutes, until the surface of the breads starts to bubble and turn golden brown.  Don’t cook them too long or they will turn into cardboard.  Serve immediately.

“Your attempt to edit this post ** has failed.”

Whole post.  Photos, text, recipe.  It was a decent post, not one of my best.  I’m not going to re-create it.  Here is the short version – I once made this dip for Thanksgiving.  Roasted red peppers and cilantro don’t scream fall harvest dinner to me now but I thought it sounded good then and I was right.  This is a dip that people go crazy for – just serve it with pita chips.  And now, I’m just going to share the recipe and the photos.  This is a great dip.  You should make it.  People love it.  The end.

Roasted Pepper, Almond, and Cilantro Pesto
Adapted from Food & Wine
Makes about 2 cups

1 14-ounce jar roasted red peppers, drained
½ cup cilantro leaves
1 tbsp. tomato paste
1 tbsp. sherry vinegar
Juice of 1 small lemon
1 clove garlic
1 tsp. sea salt
½ tsp. smoked paprika
½ tsp. chile powder
¼ tsp. cayenne pepper
1 cup blanched almonds, roughly chopped

Place everything except the almonds in the bowl of a food processor fitted with the steel blade.  Pulse until everything is well combined, scrape down the sides of the bowl and pulse again.  Add the almonds and pulse until smooth and combined.  (The pesto can be made up to four days ahead.  Cover and refrigerate.)

Here was my Monday.  Up, showered, me dressed, boys dressed, me fed, boys fed, Graham’s lunch box packed.  8:45 drove Spencer to preschool, and 9:10 got Graham on the bus to his first grade class.  Sent a few emails and then 10:00 headed to Book Larder for a staff meeting.  Then worked for a few hours doing book related things.  3:30 went home to wait for Graham to get off the bus, gave him a snack, and then 4:15 drove him to an art class he recently started taking.  4:30 went to pick up Spencer at school and took him home for a snack and a few minutes of play for him and a few minutes of cooking prep for me.  5:45 got him in the car and we went to get Graham.  6:10 back to the house and started cooking.

I made bean and cheese tacos for the boys which means making guacamole for Graham to put on his.  I envisioned a miso soup with lots of vegetables for Randy and me, and also roasted some tofu because I was craving it.  And a salad – we have salad almost every night.  I had pulled a stick of butter out of the fridge early in the morning with a plan to make cookies and I resisted the urge to give up on that plan and got them going and in the oven.  So, simultaneously, I was making soup, cookies, tacos, guacamole, salad dressing, roasted onions, and roasted tofu.  After a busy day, one of these things was bound to not go right.

Fortunately, it was just the soup.  Everyone got dropped off and picked up at the right times and in the right places and we had other things to eat, so I tried to be philosophical about the soup.  It tasted fine but I did not cook the vegetables enough and crunchy is not the right adjective I like to use when describing soup.  Having something not turn out made me realize how infrequent it is in my house to have a cooking fail.  I’m not patting myself on the back here, I’m just observing.  I cook a lot.  All that practice comes in handy.

The highlight of our meal was the salad.  Last week, when I was working at Book Larder, Tara stopped in.  She mentioned that she was the lucky recipient of 20 pounds of Asian pears and did I have any ideas of how to use them.  Immediately I thought of a salad that I used to make years ago, back when Asian pears were harder to find.  I got the recipe from some magazine and, rather than trying to remember where, or even looking online, I decided to re-create it.  I’m kind of in love with this dressing.  The whole salad really.  The only downside is I only used one Asian pear so I don’t think I helped Tara with her problem.

One Year Ago:  Bittersweet Chocolate Pudding Pie
Two Years Ago:  Holly B’s Praline Almond Scones
Three Years Ago:  Quick Olive and Cheese Bread

Arugula Salad with Asian Pear and Roasted Onions
Dana Treat Original
Serves 2 (generously)

You will have dressing left over which is a great thing.  Toss it with soba noodles, use it as a dip for vegetables or satay, or just drink it.  :)

For the Dressing and Marinade
1 1-inch piece of fresh ginger, peeled and roughly chopped
¼ cup tahini
2 tbsp. soy sauce
2 tbsp. rice wine vinegar
1 tsp. chile paste
1 tbsp. toasted sesame oil
2 tbsp. canola oil
2 tbsp. water
2 tsp. sugar

For the salad
1 medium red onion, halved, peeled and cut into thick slices
1 medium carrot, peeled and grated
½ an avocado, cut into bite size chunks
1 Asian pear, cored, and cut into matchsticks
4 ounces arugula
Sea salt

Place all the ingredients for the dressing/marinade in a blender.  Blend until very smooth.

Place the onions in an oven proof baking dish, pour a couple tablespoons of the marinade over top and toss well to coat.  Set aside and allow to marinate for 30-60 minutes.  Meanwhile, preheat oven to 425ºF.  Place onions in the oven and bake for 20 minutes, tossing once, or onions are soft and browned in spots.

Place the grated carrot, avocado, and pear in a salad bowl then place the arugula on top.  Sprinkle the leaves with a pinch of sea salt.  Drizzle a couple of tablespoons of dressing over top (you won’t need much).  Toss and add more dressing to taste.  Serve the onions along side the salad.

I’m going to keep this short because, you know, it’s October and I’m still talking about corn.  On Saturday, my little family went apple picking and we passed farm stand after farm stand advertising corn.  It occurred to me, after the fifth one or so, that I had yet to make corn chowder.  And even though what I really wanted to make is butternut squash soup, I can’t deny corn when there is corn to be had.

Chances are, if there are still a few ears to be bought where you live, you might want to get right on making this soup and not read a rambling post from me.  But a few notes.  I love this version.  I don’t like super creamy soups so this has just a hint and it comes from puréed corn kernels and coconut milk.  Big chunks of potatoes are key, I used some with a lovely pink skin and a while flesh and I kept fishing them out of the pot long after I was full.  And I think tarragon is really important here.  Basil would be good too if you want to defy me.

One Year Ago:  Savory Rugelach
Two Years Ago:  Smoky Chard Over Grilled Bread
Three Years Ago:  Fruit and Spice Granola

Corn Chowder with Coconut Milk
Dana Treat Original
Serves 4-6

4 ears of corn
1 cup of coconut milk, divided
Olive oil
1 large leek, washed well, trimmed, cut into quarters, and thinly sliced
1 medium carrot, finely diced
1 stalk celery, finely diced
1 tsp. dried thyme
Sea salt and freshly ground black pepper
1 pound red skinned potatoes, scrubbed well, cut into 1-inch chunks
4 cups vegetable stock
2 tbsp. fresh tarragon leaves, coarsely chopped

Shuck the ears of corn and set aside two ears.  Cut the kernels off the other two and place the kernels in a blender along with ¾ of a cup of the coconut milk.  Add a pinch of salt and purée until smooth.  Set aside.

Set a soup pot over medium heat.  Add just enough olive oil to coat the bottom of the pot and then add the leeks, carrots, celery, and a large pinch of salt.  Stir well, then add the dried thyme.  Cook, stirring often, until the vegetables are fragrant and starting to soften, about 8 minutes.  Stir in the potatoes and cook for another 3 minutes.  Pour in the corn/coconut milk mixture and stir to coat the vegetables well.  Pour in the vegetable stock and bring to a boil.  Reduce the heat to a simmer and cover the pot.  Cook until the potatoes are tender, about another 10 minutes.

Cut the kernels off the other two ears of corn.  Add to the soup pot and cook for another 2-3 minutes, until the corn is just cooked through.  Stir in the remaining ¼ cup of coconut milk.  Season to taste with salt and pepper.  Serve in soup bowls garnished with tarragon.

When I was a little girl, my favorite colors were pink, purple, and red.  In that order.  Tomboy I was not.  I wasn’t overly froufy but I did love to wear dresses and pretend jewelry, I begged my mom to let me get my ears pierced when I was six (she let me), and I could not wait until the day when I could wear makeup.

In seventh grade, I changed schools and it was suddenly not cool at all to wear dresses or skirts.  Jeans only and those jeans had to be Levi 501′s – the kind that you bought indigo blue and stiff as a board, and had to wash a million times to get them to look cool at all.  I pretended, in those years, that I liked wearing jeans that were clearly cut for male bodies and that my favorite color was blue.  I got a blue ski jacket and painted my bedroom blue and all the while I missed pink.  And purple.  And red.  And dresses.

Somewhere along the line, in high school, I reclaimed myself and my girly ways.  I wore dresses again and became known for my love of purple because, at some point in those blue years, purple overcame pink as my true favorite.

The only way this ties back to food is beans.  This is the time of year when school starts and when I start seeing fresh shelling beans at the markets.  Do these cranberries beans look like something found nature?  Or something that might be found, say, in my closet.  Or something that my kids would color for me because they are now aware of the concept of having a favorite color and they know what mine is.   I gathered all the ingredients for a stew at my farmers’ market and it all is so beautiful, is it not?

Sometimes cooking is just assembling really great ingredients and doing just a bit to bring out their flavors.  When you are using peak of the season produce, it’s easy to make something delicious.  This is not to say that this stew makes itself.  I took the time to roast the squash because I like it best that way but you could certainly just add it raw along with the potatoes to save yourself a step and a baking sheet to wash.  You also need to cook the beans separately but seeing as these are fresh, it only takes a half hour or so.  At my markets, you will often see the beans pre-shelled for you.  It is nice that someone did the dirty work for you and I used to buy them that way.  But the truth is that the beans in the pods are much fresher, they are cheaper, and shelling them is even easier to do than shelling peas.

One Year Ago:  Braised Purple Cabbage with Apples, Pecan Molasses Bundt Cake with Bourbon Glaze
Two Years Ago:  Carrot Soup with Ginger and Lemon, Soba Noodles with Mushrooms and Bok Choy, Holly B’s Peanut Butter Brownies
Three Years Ago:  Dimply Plum Cake

Cranberry Bean Stew with Maple Roasted Delicata Squash and Sage
Dana Treat Original
Serves 4

1½ pounds delicata squash, cut in half, seeded, and cut into ¾-inch chunks
Olive oil
Sea salt and freshly ground black pepper
4 tbsp. maple syrup
1 cup fresh shelling beans
1 medium red onion, diced
2 garlic cloves, minced
2 tsp. fresh thyme leaves
1 pound new potatoes, cut into 1-inch chunks
½ cup dry white wine
1 red bell pepper, seeded, diced
2 cups vegetable broth
½ bunch Swiss chard, leaves only, chopped
4 sage leaves, slivered, for garnish

Preheat the oven to 400ºF.  Place the squash chunks on a baking sheet and drizzle with about 2 tablespoons olive oil, a large pinch of salt, a few grinds of pepper, and the maple syrup.  Using your hands, toss well.  Place in the oven for 10 minutes.  Remove and flip the pieces over, return to the oven and bake for another 10 minutes, or until completely tender and browning in spots.  Remove and set aside.

Bring a medium saucepan of water to a boil.  Pour in the beans and cook, keeping the water at a mellow boil, until the beans are tender but not mushy, about 25 minutes.  Drain and set aside.

Heat a large soup pot over medium heat.  Add just enough olive oil to coat the bottom and then add the onion along with a large pinch of salt.  Sauté until starting to soften, about 5 minutes, then add the garlic.  Give it a stir, then add the thyme leaves.  Stir in the potatoes and cook, stirring occasionally, until the potatoes are browned in spots, about 8 minutes.  Things will start to stick but don’t worry about it.

Pour in the wine and scrape up any browned bits on the bottom of the pot.  Stir in the red pepper.  Pour in the broth and bring to a boil, then lower the heat to a simmer and cover.  Cook until potatoes are just tender, about 10 minutes.  Remove the cover and add the squash and the beans.  Stir well, then add the chard.  Continue to cook, covered, stirring occasionally, until the stew is heated through, the chard has wilted slightly, and the potatoes are fully cooked, about another 10 minutes.  Season to taste with salt and pepper.  Serve in shallow bowls garnished with fresh sage leaf slivers.