Category: Super Healthy

Feels Like the First Time

August 19, 2012

I don’t know about you, but I feel like the first time I cook something is always the best.  Not bake, cook.  When I bake something more than once, it is almost always better the second or third time than it was the first.  Baking can be tricky and I usually am able to fix any little glitches in a recipe or my technique after I have already made a dessert or a bread.

There have been so many times that I have repeated a recipe merely for the sake of this blog.  I cook first and foremost so that I can eat and feed family and friends.  Photographing and blogging about food is secondary.  But often I am midway through a meal and I think to myself, “I really should write about this” or someone at the dinner table asks me, “Are you going to write about this?”  So then I repeat the recipe the next week and I can say, almost without exception, that it was better the first time.

This was a lovely Italian stew the first time I made it.  I was thinking about how good it tasted and my parents and brother were ooohing and aaahing and asking when it would be on the blog, so I stood up and snapped a photo with my phone.  And then I realized that that photo would not do and I was going to have to make it again.

So I made it again.  And I didn’t pay as careful attention to the recipe, I forgot the saffron, and I used dried beans because I didn’t have any more fresh shelling beans stashed away in my freezer and the stew that was so mind blowingly tasty – the kind of thing where you sit back and ask yourself how vegetables can taste so good and maybe there is something to that vegan thing after all – was just a good dinner.

Make it.  Follow the recipe.  Use fresh shelling beans if you can, this is their season and they can pretty easily be found at farmers’ markets.  If you don’t have access to fresh, soak some dried beans overnight and cook them separately from the stew, then add them once they are cooked.  As much as I love their convenience, this is not the place for canned beans.

One Year Ago:  Double Chocolate Peanut Butter Pie, Corn Pudding
Two Years Ago:  Green Bean Salad with Mustard Seeds and Tarragon,
Three Years Ago:  Tortellini Skewers, Bocconcini (Marinated Mozzarella)

Country-Style Vegetable Stew (Cianfotta)
Adapted from Verdura, Vegetables Italian Style
Serves 4

Whenever I use saffron, I always allow it to “bloom” in liquid before adding it to the dish.  It helps bring out the delicate flavor of the saffron.  I served the stew, both times, with a brown rice tossed with ricotta and lots of herbs.  It was nice but not necessary.

1 small pinch of saffron
Olive oil
1 onion, peeled and chopped
2 celery stalks, sliced crosswise
2 garlic cloves, minced
1 tbsp. thyme leaves
1 small eggplant, trimmed and cut into medium dice
1 large yellow pepper, seeded, membranes removed, cut into medium dice
4 medium peppers, a mix of colors if possible, cut into medium dice
4 ripe tomatoes, seeded, cut into chunks
1 pinch red pepper flakes
Kosher or sea salt and freshly ground black pepper
8 ounces cooked beans
2 tbsp. chopped fresh parsley
2 tbsp. chopped fresh basil

Pour a few tablespoons of hot water into a bowl.  Add the saffron and set aside.

Place a wide shallow pan over medium heat.  Drizzle in just enough olive oil to coat the bottom, then add the onion and celery and a large pinch of salt.  Sauté until starting to soften, then add the garlic, saffron, and the thyme.  Cook for another 2 minutes, then add the rest of the vegetables.  Add another pinch of salt and a few grinds of pepper, stir well, and cover.  Turn the heat down to low.  Stir the mixture occasionally and if it seems too dry, add a few tablespoons of water.  Repeat if necessary.  Add the beans during the last 5 minutes of cooking.  Stir in the herbs just before serving and season to taste with salt and pepper.



Home Sweet Quinoa

July 20, 2012

Do not adjust your screen.  Yes that is food.  And yes there is a recipe at the end of this post.

I made dinner most nights we were in France.  When I first saw the kitchen and its equipment in the Cagnes-sur-Mer place, I assumed we would eat dinners out.  Two burners, one of them very small, and three pots, none of them bigger than a 3 quart.  One big bowl, one wooden spoon, one spatula, and a handful of duller-than-dull knives (thankfully, I brought a knife with me).  But after getting used to my tiny kitchen, I found making dinner each night to be lovely.  Pleasantly easing into the evening after a busy day of laying on the beach or exploring beautiful French towns.

I made things that were relatively quick and easy.  It was hot so I tried to keep my time in front of the stove at a minimum and I never turned on the oven.  I made a giant salad every night and sometimes I just ate that with a big hunk of bread.  I also kept it simple because I didn’t want to buy a bunch of ingredients that I would just have to leave behind.

So, we ate Mediterranean for a month.  And it was awesome.  But I missed Mexican, Asian, and Indian food.  The first thing I made when we got back was a rice dish.  I could have made risotto in France but I didn’t and I was craving rice like crazy by the time we got home.  Also – quinoa.  I found quinoa there but somehow it just didn’t seem like the right thing to cook there.  I’ve made it several times since we’ve been home.

Now, I love quinoa but I don’t love it by itself and I don’t love it just boiled away in water.  It is a very charming seed (not a grain!) but it needs a little help.  I find I like it best made more as a pilaf.  I sauté shallot rounds in a little butter, stir in the quinoa, then pour in a bit of white wine.  I cook it until the wine is syrupy, then add the water.  I have found that if you add just 1½ times the liquid as you have quinoa, it turns out great.  (So for a cup of quinoa, I add ½ of wine and 1 cup of water.)  It is not mushy and has that slight and delightful crunch.

What else is going on in that bowl?  Red lentils, cooked just enough that they are soft but not so much that they lose their shape.  Ricotta salata, one of the world’s most charming cheeses.  A little crushed red pepper.  Lots of mint.  Lots of lemon juice.  A little olive oil.  Two additions I think would be lovely are pea shoots or broccoli rabe, the former blanched and finely chopped, the latter sautéed in olive oil, sprinkled with more red pepper flakes, and finely chopped.

One Year Ago:  Lemony Chickpeas and Oven-Dried Tomato Stew, Savory Spinach, Feta, and Peppadew Muffins, Salted Caramel Squares
Two Years Ago:  Chocolate Pavé, Roasted Cauliflower with Tomato, Dill, and Capers
Three Years Ago:  Blasted Broccoli, Gnocchi with Mushroom Sauce, Asparagus Ragout
Four Years Ago:  Green Goddess Salad with Romaine, Cucumbers and Avocado (pardon the terrible photos)

Quinoa with Red Lentils, Ricotta Salata, and Mint
Dana Treat Original
Serves 6-8

If you have never used ricotta salata, you are in for a treat.  It is very salty but still mild in flavor and has a nice texture.  Similar to feta but drier and the flavor is not as gamy.  You could use feta instead.  Don’t worry about the exact amount, a small wedge will do fine.

1 tbsp. unsalted butter
3 large shallots, peeled and thinly sliced
Kosher or sea salt
½ tsp. red pepper flakes
1 cup quinoa
½ cup dry white wine
1 cup red lentils
5 ounces ricotta salata
1 small bunch of mint, leaves stemmed and coarsely chopped
Juice of 2 lemons
2 tbsp. olive oil
Freshly ground black pepper

Place a medium (3 quart is perfect) saucepan over medium heat.  Melt the butter, then add the shallots along with a pinch of salt.  Stir in the red pepper flakes and cook until the shallots are brown in spots, about 5-7 minutes.  Stir in the quinoa, make sure it is coated with the butter and shallots, then pour in the wine.  Cook, stirring frequently, until the wine is mostly absorbed, then pour in a cup of water.  Bring to a boil, cover and reduce the heat to low.  Cook for 15 minutes, or until the liquid is completely absorbed.  Scrape the quinoa out into a large bowl.

Rinse out the saucepan, then pour in the lentils and cover them with cold water.  Bring to a boil, add a large pinch of salt, then reduce the heat to keep it at a lively simmer.  Scrape off any white foam that comes to the surface.  Cook just until the lentils are tender, avoid having them go mushy, about 10-12 minutes.  Drain and add to the quinoa.

Once everything is cool (room temperature is fine), stir in the olive oil and the lemon juice, a pinch of salt and some black pepper.  Crumble in the cheese and fold in the mint.  Season to taste with salt and pepper.  This salad will keep and taste great the next day, but the mint might turn black.



Pike Place Market Memories

June 6, 2012

Have you visited Seattle? Then you have probably visited the Pike Place Market. I know it is always first on my list as a stop for visitors. There is something very unique about that special place. It is a market filled with tourists, especially on a sunny August Saturday, but it is also a place that the locals flock to. Everyone has their favorite produce stand, favorite fish market, favorite place to buy flowers, favorite cup of coffee, favorite place to grab a quick bite.

My family moved to Seattle in the summer of 1975. I know this because I remember having my 5th birthday party on the back porch of our house with a bunch of kids from the neighborhood who I didn’t know. We had a tree growing in our backyard that the builders did not want to cut down, so there was a perfect hole cut in our deck for the tree to grow through. That oddity and a birthday cake was enough of a draw for the neighborhood kids to celebrate with someone they didn’t know.

My parents are both from New York and in some ways, Seattle was a tough move, especially in 1975. They fell deeply in love with the beauty, the access to nature, the (then) low housing prices, and the quality of the air. They missed the culture, food, and community that they left on the East coast. Seattle did not have the bakeries they were used to, decent Italian food, or any good bread; but it did have great coffee, seafood, Chinese food, and the Pike Place Market. I have so many memories of visiting the Market (as the locals call it) all the way from being a very young child to just last week.

The floor of the Market is lined with tiles, each bearing names of families. We have one of those somewhere in the maze of corridors. I remember trudging down to the original Starbucks to buy bags of coffee to bring back to the friends who stored my boxes of clothes and books in the college town 3,000 miles away from what was then, the only Starbucks in the country. I remember buying pounds and pounds of English peas and eating them, straight from the pod, as we jostled through the crowds. Every year through high school, I gave my mom the gift of flowers once a week for a month for Mother’s Day, and I delighted in the huge bouquets that my babysitting money could buy at the Market.

Now I love to take the boys with me on my Market forays. It is just busy enough there that they stay close to me, a tiny bit timid in the crowds. We have to stop for donuts at the little place where they can watch them come out of the fryer, and we have to avoid the fish-throwing guys because the boys are terrified that they might get hit with a fish. They stand (mostly) patiently waiting at my favorite produce stand, hoping they will get a taste of grapefruit or plum, or whatever is on offer that day. And they negotiate with me about how many honey sticks we can buy.

It is a special place to be sure. Recently, a new Pike Place Market cookbook came out, called Pike Place Market Recipes. My friend Jess Thomson wrote the book and she did a fantastic job of telling the Market’s story. She profiles purveyors, stands, and the building itself. It is the true kind of cookbook that you can take to bed with you and read as a novel. But the best part, truly, is the recipes. Jess is a terrific cook, a terrific recipe writer, and her food is amazingly delicious.  This book truly does her talents justice as it features sweet and savory, meat and vegetarian.  My experience with Jess’ recipes is that they are tested to perfection.  This is a cook you can trust.

One Year Ago:  Shaved Spring Vegetable Salad, Puff Pastry Squares with Pea and Tarragon Purée
Two Years Ago:  Rhubarb Bette, Asparagus with Grilled Shiitake and Soy Vinaigrette
Three Years Ago:  Oven-Fried Rice Balls with Gruyère, Mexican Pizza with Corn, Tomatillos, and Chipotle

Roasted Pickled Cauliflower Salad
Adapted from Pike Place Market Recipes
Serves 4

The only changes I made to this glorious recipe is reducing the amount of onion (raw onion is too abrasive for me – even it is a sweet one), and adding a bit of avocado.  I used a mandoline to slice the fennel and the onion – thin is key.  Roasting the cauliflower before pickling it is genius.  Softer texture, mellower flavor.  Finally, Jess suggests making the cauliflower a day ahead but I found it was perfect after just a few hours.

 For the roasted cauliflower:
1 large head cauliflower, cut into bite size florets
2 tbsp. extra-virgin olive oil
Kosher salt and freshly ground black pepper

For the pickling brine:
1 cup warm water
2 tbsp. sugar
1 tbsp. kosher salt
1 tsp. red pepper flakes
2 garlic cloves, minced
1 cup white wine vinegar
½ cup fennel fronds

For the dressing:
1 tsp. Dijon mustard
1 tsp. minced garlic
2 tbsp. orange juice
2 tbsp. white wine vinegar
½ cup extra-virgin olive oil
Kosher salt and freshly ground black pepper

For the salad:
¼ cup toasted hazelnuts, coarsely chopped
1 small fennel bulb, very thinly sliced
½ small sweet onion, very thinly sliced
½ ripe avocado, cut into bite size pieces
3 cups mixed salad greens
Freshly ground black pepper

Preheat the oven to 400ºF.  Line a baking sheet with parchment paper or a silicon mat, and set aside.

Place the cauliflower in a large bowl, drizzle with the olive oil, and season to taste with salt and pepper.  Stir the cauliflower to each floret well, then transfer to the prepared sheet.  Roast the cauliflower until lightly browned, about 20 minutes.  Transfer cauliflower to a bowl and allow to cool completely.

While the cauliflower cools, make the pickling brine:  Stir the water, sugar, salt, red pepper flakes, and garlic together in a large pickling jar (or a similar container that can hold all the florets) until the sugar and salt dissolve.  Add the white wine vinegar and the fennel fronds.

When the cauliflower has cooled to room temperature, add it to the pickling brine.  Refrigerate for a few hours or overnight.

Make the dressing:  In a small bowl, whisk together the mustard, garlic, orange juice, and vinegar.  While whisking, add the olive oil in a slow, steady stream whisking until emulsified.  Season to taste with salt and pepper.

To serve the salad, mix together about a cup of the pickled cauliflower (drained) with the hazelnuts, fennel, onion, avocado, and salad greens.  Add dressing to taste and serve immediately, garnished with pepper.



My Never-Ending Love of a Good Salad

March 16, 2012

When Gail Simmons, she of Top Chef and Top Chef Desserts fame, was at Book Larder last week, someone in the crowd asked where she likes to eat in New York.  It was at just that moment that she asked me to take a bowl of egg whites into the back room with the hand mixer for a good whipping.  (This was something we had worked out that I would do ahead of time, she was not being bossy.)  I heard her say “ABC Kitchen” and then did not hear the other suggestions because the door was closed and I had an earful of mixer.

Later, after most of the people had left and she was signing our books, I told her that I would be in New York for a quick stop before my college reunion, that I am a vegetarian, and asked her where I should eat.  She again said ABC Kitchen.  So the moment I got home, I checked out the web site and put an email out to a college friend asking if she wanted to check it out.

As it turns out, we will most likely go somewhere else but looking at the ABC Kitchen menu online, my eyes got stuck on a number of dishes.  The “entrée” section is all meat but almost all of the pizzas are vegetarian as are a few of the pastas.  (Please tell me I am not the only one who enjoys looking at restaurant menus.)  And then this:  roast carrot and avocado salad, crunchy seeds, sour cream, and citrus.  I had to make that.

I think my love for salad has been well documented on this site.  I could happily make it my life’s mission to introduce people to really good salad.  No boring overdressed greens here.  No iceberg lettuce and bottled dressing.  And really, my plan was to have no greens at all in this beauty.  But whenever I make salad, especially if it is for friends, I make a lot.  And then I add to it.  I eat a lot of salad and I want to be sure there is enough for everyone.  (I have a chronic fear of not cooking enough food.  Yes, I am Jewish.)  I had two friends coming over for dinner and as I was eying the salad bowl, it looked a little skimpy for three so I threw in a handful of spinach.  It was nice with the greens but I think it would have been better without.

So what did I do?  I cut carrots into diagonal coins, drizzled them with olive oil, salt, and pepper, and roasted them until they were just a  bit brown.  I cut a huge avocado into healthy chunks, suprêmed a grapefruit and two tangerines and saved the juice that I squeezed from the membranes.  I used some of that juice, a dollop of crème fraîche, and touch of salt for the dressing.  I made the seeds from Tara’s site that I have been wanting to make ever since I first ate them sprinkled over rice at Nettletown, and even more so after I heard the incredibly sad news about Christina Choi.  Those seeds, which I am tempted to put on everything, garnished the salad beautifully.

One Year Ago:  Sweet and Salty Popcorn with Orange Blossom Honey, Pizza with Sun-Dried Tomato Jam and Broccoli Rabe, and Potatoes, Jerusalem Artichokes, Arugula and a Poached Egg (also inspired by a menu)
Two Years Ago:  Sautéed Tempeh with Coconut Milk and Peas
Three Years Ago:  Chocolate, Hazelnut, and Ginger Biscotti, Tropical Gazpacho

Roasted Carrot and Avocado Salad with Citrus Crème Fraîche Dressing

Dana Treat Original
Serves 3-4

I made this salad again with arugula instead of spinach which I liked better.  Still, I think it would be best with neither.

6 large carrots, peeled, cut into coins on the diagonal
2 tbsp. olive oil
Kosher or sea salt and freshly ground black pepper
1 large avocado, cut into 1-inch chunks
1 large pink grapefruit
2 tangerines (or Blood Oranges if you can find them)
1 heaping tbsp. crème fraîche
3 tbsp. Nettletown Seeds (recipe follows)
2 handful greens (optional)

Preheat the oven to 400ºF.  Place the carrots on a baking sheet.  Drizzle with the olive oil, a large pinch of salt, and a few grinds of pepper.  Roast in the middle of the oven until the carrots are brown in spots and completely tender, about 15 to 18 minutes.  Remove and allow to cool.

Using a small serrated knife (a tomato knife is perfect for this), cut the peel off the grapefruit.  Using the same knife, cut in between the membranes to release the fruit into a bowl.  Squeeze the juice from the membranes into a separate bowl and reserve.  Cut the peel from the tangerines and then slice them into ½-inch thick slices.  Cut the slices in half and put in the same bowl as the grapefruit pieces.

Place the crème fraîche in a small bowl and add about 2 tablespoons of the grapefruit juice.  Add a pinch of salt and a few grinds of pepper.  Whisk well to combine.  This will be your dressing.

Cut the avocado into chunks and place in a salad bowl.  Add the citrus and the carrots.  Also add the greens if using.  Pour in the dressing and toss to coat gently.  Garnish with a healthy sprinkling of the seeds.

Nettletown Seeds
Makes about ¾ cup

3 tbs sunflower seeds
3 tbs pumpkin seeds
2 tbs sesame seeds
1 tbs flax seeds
1 tsp cumin seeds
1 tsp fennel seeds
½ tsp salt



College Majors and Eggs for Dinner

February 23, 2012

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.



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