Crab Vodka Salsa

Were someone to ask me what animal I would be, which, as an aside, I can't actually imagine someone asking me, but I guess if I were to ask myself what animal I'd be, I'd have to say "hyena."  Hyenas are quite clever.  Scavenging for scraps, but possessing the ability to hunt when needed.  They only exert the energy to hunt when it is actually necessary.

I too, can hunt.  If by hunt, you mean obtain food from a market, bring it home, and turn it into dinner.  But just because I possess this ability, it doesn't mean I need to expend the energy all the time.  Rather I can circle around my offspring's meal, and retrieve the leftovers after he has finished. Having a child who makes a lot of requests for certain foods, but doesn't actually go through the whole part of eating it,  means this is an effective food gathering strategy for me. Sometimes I have been known to scavenge while he is still eating, like taking the remains of a cookie after he has placed it down on the table and has turned his head.

However, like the hyena, I too can occasionally put a damper on my scavenging ways and move on to some actual cooking.  Like this salsa.

This month's Creative Cooking Crew challenge, hosted by Laz of Lazaro Cooks, is "cooking with spirits." Check back here at the end of the month - I'll post a link to the roundup of all the CCC dishes for the month!

We chose to go with vodka, giving this crab-filled salsa a bit of a kick as it slides down your throat.  Gypsy and jalapeno peppers, garlic, cilantro, red onion fill each bite with vegetal goodness, while using smoked sea salt and smoked paprika leaves a little something behind to linger on your taste buds.  The kind of food that is worth giving up my hyena ways and becoming human again.

Ingredients
1/4 cup olive oil
2 celery stalks, diced
half a large onion, diced
5 gypsy peppers, divided, diced
6 garlic cloves, minced
1 teaspoon crushed red pepper
28-ounce can crushed tomatoes
6 ounces lump crab meat
smoked sea salt, to taste
1/4 teaspoon smoked paprika
freshly ground black pepper, to taste
1/4 cup vodka
1/4 cup chopped red onion
1/4 cup chopped cilantro
1/2 teaspoon lemon zest
1 teaspoon lemon juice, plus more to taste
minced jalapeno, optional
tortilla chips, for serving

Instructions
In a large saute pan, heat oil over medium low heat.  Add celery, onion, and three of the gypsy peppers. Once the vegetables are soft, about 15 minutes, add the garlic and red pepper flakes.  Cook for a minute, until garlic is fragrant, but not burned.  Add the crushed tomatoes.  In a bowl, stir together the crab meat, a hearty pinch of smoked salt, smoked paprika, and a sprinkle of freshly ground black pepper.  Add the crab to salsa.  Stir.  Add the vodka.  Turn heat to medium high.  Once the vodka has cooked down (it will leave a spiciness in your throat but no longer screams VODKA), about 8-10 minutes, let the mixture cool down a bit and add lemon zest, lemon juice, salt and pepper, as well as the remaining gypsy peppers, red onion, and cilantro.  If you want more heat in the salsa, add some minced jalapeno.

Hot Crab Dip with Chives, Scallion, and Horseradish

I am pretty sure you can never trust a toddler. Or at least the toddler that lives here.
Recent examples of his lack of trustworthiness include:

1) Created a book titled, "Eat Green Eggs and Ham Book."  Said book includes only pictures of butterflies, cars, a bicycle, a moon, and a caterpillar that were clipped from magazines.  No eggs.  No ham.

2) Insisted that he did not poo. Evidence suggested otherwise. Actually, evidence was actually quite clear on this.

3) Claimed to want to eat crab.  I had talked up eating crab in a dip.  He seemed super excited by the prospect.  Not surprisingly, he wanted no part in this once made.

But I did...  Creamy dip filled with green onions and chives and crab meat and horseradish.  Simple but so luxuriously delicious.  And much more trustworthy than the toddler.

Ingredients
6 ounces lump crab meat, sprinkled with a bit of Old Bay seasoning
about 1 tablespoon prepared horseradish
1/3 cup chopped green onions
1/4 cup snipped chives
1/4 cup mayo
1/4 cup sour cream
4-5 ounces cream cheese
1 1/2 tablespoons lemon juice
1/2 teaspoon Old Bay seasoning
baguette, crackers, or whatever you want for serving
snipped chives, for serving

Instructions
Heat oven to 400. Mix everything together.  Bake in ovenproof dish for 15-20 minutes until bubbly. Serve with baguette or crackers.  Sprinkle chives on top.

A Dessert Tartine with Sauteed Cardamom and Rose Pear Slices and Toasted Hazelnuts

What follows is a rundown of things I am embarrassed about. I have a nagging suspicion that I've done this before, so this is most definitely not a final list, as I am prone to both feeling embarrassment easily and also have a knack for getting myself into situations in which embarrassment is the only available possibility.

Item # 1 - buying seasonal decor items from drug stores and grocery stores. I feel as though I should be ashamed of my penchant for wandering into the seasonal decor aisle, finding everything 50% off, then stocking up on festive candles and glassware. I have even cultivated an appreciation for this pastime in Max, as he has just recently picked out his very own ugly owl-shaped pumpkin decoration during our last excursion.

Item #2 - eating dinner at an establishment named Buster's because we were too lazy too walk just a little bit further to a more respectable dining location. A place that would, in all likelihood, have offered up better choices than "extremely sweet chicken dish" and "extremely gross cioppino"

Item #3 - not being able to tell left from right without doing that trick of looking to see which hand makes the "L" shape when extending the pointer finger and thumb.

Item #4 - the amount of times I just pile and slather ingredients on bread, eat it, and declare it a recipe

I suppose I find bread to be such a fun canvas to work with - so delicious yet subtle, perfect for exploring flavor combinations. Here I sauteed sliced red pears in butter, brown sugar, rose and cardamom. Cream cheese and pomegranate juice were mixed together, and then spread on crusty bread. The bread was then topped with the pears and finished with some toasted hazelnuts. A most delicious way to rid oneself of embarrassment.

Ingredients
1 tablespoon unsalted butter
3 sliced pears (I used Starkrimson, as they were just so beautiful)
1 1/2 tablespoons dark brown sugar
1/4 teaspoon ground dried rose
1/2 teaspoon ground cardamom
pinch kosher salt
4 ounces cold cream cheese
2 tablespoons pomegranate juice
1/4 cup chopped hazlenuts, toasted
slices of warm, crusty bread

Instructions
For the pears:
Melt the butter in a saute pan over medium heat.  Add the pears, then sprinkle the sugar, rose, cardamom, and salt over the slices.  Let the pears become warm and soft, about 6 minutes.  Take off heat.

For the cream cheese mixture:
Beat the cream cheese and pomegranate juice with mixer until combined.

For assembling:
Spread cream cheese on a slice of bread.  Layer on pears, then sprinkle hazelnuts on top.

Pork Lettuce Wrap with Yogurt Pomegranate Sauce

It was captivating, and perfectly located to view from the comfort of the bed that early in the morning. Once it was spotted, neither of us could turn away from it.

The flashes of light changed colors, a trick that was truly intriguing and also hypnotic.  Eventually, our trance was broken and we wanted more information. Why was this star - Spica - cycling through different colors?

We needed to know more. Yet when we entered our search terms about Spica into the search engine, we couldn't find anything about its flashing colors of light.

We were so confused. Were we at some special angle that only we could see this? Maybe it was really an airplane, stuck in the air. Or perhaps some other man made object. Or maybe, this pair of extremely amateur backyard astronomy enthusiasts just discovered something new, without even needing to leave the bed!

It was eventually revealed to us, that no, we did not indeed happen upon a new discovery. We were just completely and utterly wrong about the name of the star. We were looking at Sirius, not Spica. And oh wow, there was lots of information about this. Needless to say, no astronomical accolades would be garnered by us.

I may lack the ability to correctly identify celestial objects. But I am not wrong about the pleasures to be had in the eating of lettuce wraps.

The placing of the lettuce leaf on your plate. Spooning in some delicious meat, in this case fragrant with garlic and ginger and shallots, then lightly coated with a creamy sauce of Greek yogurt, pomegranate juice, orange juice, and orange zest. Then piling on the toppings - the extras that give each bite its own personality, its unique combination of crunchy jicama, of sweetness from the carrots, of refreshing and cooling mint, of spicy jalapeno. A drizzle of fresh orange juice perks everything up. The bright fresh lettuce and toppings makes a delicious and beautiful contrast with the pork. A meal that is captivating as Sirius.

Ingredients
1 tablespoon canola oil
1 pound ground pork
4 garlic cloves
2 shallots
1 tablespoon minced ginger
1 tablespoon minced jalapeno, or to taste
2 tablespoons Greek yogurt
4 teaspoons pomegranate juice
1 teaspoon orange zest
1 teaspoon orange juice
1 tablespoon thick soy sauce
butter lettuce leaves

Toppings:
mint leaves
chopped scallions
jicama, julienned
carrots, julienned
jalapeno slices

Ingredients
In a small bowl, stir together yogurt, pomegranate juice, orange zest, orange juice, and thick soy sauce.  Set aside.  Heat canola oil on high heat in saute pan.  Add pork.  Sprinkle with kosher salt and freshly ground black pepper.  Once pork is cooked, lower heat and add shallots and jalapeno.  Once those have become soft, add the garlic and ginger.  Saute for a minute.  Stir the yogurt mixture into the pork.

To assemble wrap, spoon pork into the lettuce and then add toppings.  Drizzle with fresh orange juice

Quick Pickled Blueberries, Goat Cheese, Honey, Pluot, Sage, Pistachio Tartines

When one wakes up in the middle of the night, it takes awhile for truth to be understood. You hold some beliefs that make incredible sense at the moment upon awakening.

But after a bit of time, one realizes that everything thought to be true, thought to be factual, was wrong.

The puff cat on the pillow is actually the pig cat imitating the puff's favored sleep position. The fluffy soft cat making its way to your hand for cuddles is not a random stray third cat that you keep wishing would magically appear at your doorstep in need of a loving home. And that the lump near your legs isn't a sleeping pig cat. In reality, the fluffy cuddly cat is your very own JiJi. And the lump near your legs is not even a cat. But a mini-sized person who should have been sleeping in his own bed. And by the time all these facts and truths are revealed you are extremely awake.

At which point, even more truths can come out as well.  Like you realize with a flutter of panic that you never said goodbye to blueberries.  They were here  - so small and round and indigo in color and now they are gone - replaced by nonsense like figs.

This month's Creative Cooking Crew Challenge is to "pickle it"  The roundup will be hosted by Joan of Foodalogue, so I will post the link here once the roundup goes live! Here is the link to the roundup - definitely check it out, there are so many amazing, creative dishes!

After I realized my mistake, I figured this - the blueberries - would be the thing to pickle.  I would somehow obtain a box, and have my chance to say goodbye.  I decided to do a quick pickling of the blueberries so that my mom would be able to say her goodbyes to the fruit as well while she was visiting.

From there, we built a tartine with a goat cheese and cream cheese mixture, honey, pluots, sage, and chopped pistachios.  A tartine to truly awaken the taste buds.

Ingredients
2 cups blueberries
1 cup red wine vinegar (I wanted the sour taste to be prominent, so I used only vinegar, but feel free to substitute water for part of the vinegar.  I probably wouldn't go over 1/2 cup of water)
3 tablespoons wild dandelion honey
1 cinnamon stick
2 inch orange peel
1/2 teaspoon fennel seeds
1/4 teaspoon whole cloves
1/4 teaspoon whole tellicherry peppercorns
1/2 teaspoon juniper berries
1 teaspoon kosher salt

4 ounces goat cheese
3 ounces cold cream cheese

chopped salted pistachios
wild dandelion honey
pluot, sliced
torn sage leaves
goat cheese spread
pickled blueberries
slices of good quality bread

Instructions
In a small pot, bring the vinegar (and water, if using), honey, cinnamon, orange peel, fennel, cloves, peppercorns, juniper berries, and salt to boil.  Place the blueberries in a mason jar, then pour the vinegar mixture over the berries.  Refrigerate overnight.

In mixer, beat goat cheese with the cream cheese.

To assemble the tartines: Spread goat cheese mixture on bread.  Brush on a bit of honey.  Add pluot slices, sage leaves, pickled blueberries, and chopped pistachios.

Baked Fish Sticks with Avocado Lemon Ginger Dip

I must confess to one of my "quirks."  I do not wear jeans.  I am not trying to cultivate an eccentricity.  I just absolutely do not find them comfortable.  That stiff denim fabric.  That waist band that rubs against the skin. I hate it with the entirety of my heart.  They have been phased out of my life completely.

My aversion to jeans started at an early age.  I'm pretty sure my mom capitalized on this fact, and would make me wear jeans as punishment when I was little.  I say "pretty sure" because I sometimes lose track of what is reality and what are the personal myths and lies we tell ourselves (luckily, this beloved parent of mine is coming for a visit, so I can find out for sure - I'm extremely excited about this). But I do remember that the thought of wearing jeans was an effective deterrent against wrongdoing.

Eventually, I gave in to lure of conformity, wearing denim like all the normal people.  But I never loved them, and relished the thought of returning to a state of pajamahood at the end of each and every day.

One day, it occurred to me that I did not need to continue my denim distress.  Alternatives exist.  And thus I left behind my jail of jeans.

So instead of being fashionable, I choose comfort. Which generally leaves me with two choices.  Dresses, with or without leggings. And yoga/sweat pants and tees.  Which, depending on my mood, leaves me under or over dressed for just about every occasion.  And I am okay with this.

Sometimes, however, comfortable clothes just don't give the proper amount of comfort.  And that is where food comes in.  A few days ago, my friend Jess informed that you can cut fish into stick shapes.  And then turn those into fish sticks. This was the most genius of all the ideas.  How did I not think of that before?  So I went ahead and made one of those most basics of comfort foods - fish sticks.  And a wonderfully zesty avocado lemon ginger dip to go along with it.  Comfort food that goes supremely well with anything you choose to wear.

Ingredients
For the fish sticks:
3/4 pound white fish (I used rockfish), cut into strips or nuggets (whatever shape strikes your fancy!)
1 egg, beaten
1/4 cup flour
1 cup panko
3/4 teaspoon kosher salt
freshly ground black pepper
1 1/4 teaspoons dried dill weed

For the avocado lemon ginger dip:
1 tablespoon grated ginger (use a microplane)
flesh from 1 small avocado
1/4 cup Greek yogurt
1/2 teaspoon lemon zest
1 teaspoon lemon juice
2 chopped scallions
1 tablespoon chives
pinch Saigon cinnamon

Instructions
To make the fish sticks:  Heat oven to 375.

Place egg in a shallow bowl.  In another shallow bowl, mix together flour, panko, salt, freshly ground black pepper, and dill.

Take each strip or nugget and dredge in the beaten egg and then the panko mixture.  Place on baking sheet.  Repeat until all the fish has been dredged in both the egg and the panko mixture.  Bake for about 15 minutes, until golden brown on the outside and cooked through.

To make the dip:  Place ginger, avocado, Greek yogurt, and lemon zest/juice in bowl.  Use a fork to mash together.  Add scallions, chives, and pinch of cinnamon and continue to blend together.  Serve with fish sticks.

Breakfast Crostini with French Toast Style Broccoli Stalks, Gorgonzola, Maple Syrup, Tarragon and Quail Eggs

We appear to have a new addition(s) to the family.

Some kids tote around dolls or stuffed animals or blankets as companions through this big old world of ours. Max, having no concerns about portability, has this.  An owl-shaped suitcase (usually empty, but occasionally an elephant-shaped lunch box makes its way in there).  And we want to bring it EVERYWHERE.  Going to bed?  The owl suitcase needs to get tucked in as well!  Heading to mom and dad's room at 2 am for some early morning cuddles?  Be sure to bring along the suitcase! Going stargazing? God forbid the owl doesn't get to see the moon as well! Distress, inevitably, ensues when the little guy is told that he cannot bring along the suitcase.

And in addition to the owl, our family has also welcomed a new breakfast item into the fold - french-toast style broccoli stalks.  We, as a unit, were previously not super interested in french toast.  Good in theory, but soggy in practice.  Broccoli stalks, after a nice soak in some eggs and maple syrup, browned in some butter, then coated in a sprinkling of powdered sugar, mimic french toast, without the problems of the bread.

And after chowing down on a handful of these stalks, we decided their sweetness would combine perfectly with the strong Gorgonzola cheese and quail eggs we were looking to use in a breakfast crostini.  Add a little bit of maple syrup and a liberal amount of tarragon, and this is literally one of the best things we've ever tasted.  

New additions can be glorious things.  Though it remains to be seen what this owl suitcase is bringing to the table.


Ingredients
1 baguette, sliced
extra virgin olive oil
kosher salt
freshly ground black pepper

2 large broccoli stalks (outside of the stalks removed), sliced, then halved to fit on a crostini
2 eggs
1 tablespoon maple syrup
pat of butter, for skillet
powdered sugar, for sprinkling

Gorgonzola cheese
french-toast style broccoli stalks
good quality maple syrup
quail eggs, fried in a skillet with butter
torn tarragon leaves

Instructions
Heat oven to 375. Place the baguette slices on a baking sheet (I used a Silpat to line mine). Pour olive oil in a bowl, and brush the oil on each slice. Sprinkle a bit of salt and pepper on each. Bake for 8-10 minutes or until golden-brown.

Beat the eggs with the syrup.  Heat a cast iron skillet over high heat; add butter.  Soak the slices of stalks in the egg and syrup mixture.  Place in skillet on high heat.  Brown one side, drizzling some egg mixture on top of the stalks with a chopstick before flipping over to brown the other side.  Flip to brown the other side. Sprinkle the french-toast style stalks with powdered sugar.

Assemble the breakfast crostini by adding a generous layer of Gorgonzola to each baked baguette slice.  Then add a french-toast style stalk to each one.  Using a chopstick, drizzle a bit of maple syrup on top of each stalk.

To fry the quail egg, heat a skillet to medium low.  Add some unsalted butter to the pan and let it melt.  Separate most of the white from the yolk of the quail egg by carefully cutting off the top half of the egg using a sharp knife.  Be careful not to puncture the yolk.  Pour out as much of the white into the pan as you can until you're left with a yolk and a bit of white.  Drop this onto the pan and cook just until the white stops being translucent.  Should only be 10-20 seconds.  Use a spatula to remove from the pan and place onto the crostini.

Finish with a sprinkling of torn tarragon leaves.

Sourdough Toast Topped with Biscoff, Apricot Compote, Granny Smith Apple Slices, and Fleur de Sel

For as long as I can remember, I've been a reader. A voracious reader, consuming the backs (and sides) of cereal boxes, my mom's church bulletins, and whatever books were lying around, all with equal gusto.
My true love, however, was fiction.  Every now and then, I come across a line or paragraph that feels so incredibly, thrillingly, true that I feel like it is actually possible to understand humanity.  Just a little.

I was indiscriminate in my youth, accepting loaned books and recommendations from others as easily as I would accept candy. I didn't have the resources to be picky.

Eventually, I was able to become more discerning.  Glorious years, however, were spent in books - current fiction and literature from the (admittedly problematic) canon, making up for lost time.  Time I would never get back.  Time that had been spent with the likes of Danielle Steele, John Grisham, and the Babysitter's Club.

Then Max was born. I was prepared to have less time available for reading. I wasn't prepared to have a diminished interest in fiction.

Perhaps I just didn't have the brain capacity to empathize, to learn about new characters and problems while I was getting to know my own little guy. Maybe I just found the conflicts so out of the realm of my day to day life, I no longer could care.  Maybe I could no longer see truth in the fiction I was reading.  Maybe it is totally something else.

So I hung up my fiction hat for awhile, subsisting on long-form non fiction articles and a smattering of non fiction books.

Somewhere along the way, about a year and a half after Max was born, I found my way back to my first, my true love.

A new title from a well liked author made a nice reintroduction with this old friend. After that, a collection of short stories from the wonderful Alice Munro. From there, my confidence slowly rebuilt to the present, in which I can actually read a non-fiction book and not worry that I will no longer be able to read fiction again, backsliding into those former reading habits.

These days, I can finally nestle on the couch with our old, ratty, giant comforter (never just a throw blanket!) and a snack and delve into a book - a book of whatever I feel like at the moment. Currently, those books are Susan Sontag's On the Pain of Others and Posession by A.S. Byatt.

And the snack?  The perfect snack for reading has to be individually-sized.  Individually-sized for the private, interior world you are inhabiting.  Luxurious, as well.  Like these toasts - sourdough bread with a creamy layer of Biscoff, apricot compote, slices of Granny Smith apples, a drizzling of fresh orange juice, and just a sprinkling of fleur de sel.



By the way, Biscoff is running a "Spread the Love" contest! Facebook fans will vote for the grand prize winners.  The contest ends on August 25 (11:59 p.m. EST).
The top three winners of the challenge will be announced on August 30, 2013.

Prizes include:
First place – A trip to Belgium for two and a tour of the Biscoff factory
Second place – $1,500
Third place – $1,000

Ingredients
sourdough or french bread, toasted
Biscoff spread
apricot compote*
apple slices
drizzle of fresh orange juice
fleur de sel

For the apricot compote:
13 apricots, pitted and halved
2 teaspoons juice from a Meyer lemon
3-4 tablespoons sugar

Instructions
To make the compote: Put everything into a pot. Cook on low for about 8-10 minutes, until warm and the apricots start to break down. Chill.

To make the toasts: Generously spread the Biscoff over toast. Add a layer of apricot compote. Arrange slices of apple on top. Drizzle a bit of fresh orange juice. Finish with a sprinkling of fleur de sel.
Biscoff Spread is a sweet, creamy spread made with Biscoff Cookies. Try this delicious European alternative to peanut butter or chocolate spread. Vote for the best photo in Biscoff’s “Spread the Love” contest and you could win a year’s supply of Biscoff products!

This is a sponsored conversation written by me on behalf of Biscoff. The opinions and text are all mine.

Peach, Basil, Ginger, and Brie Puffs

I'm not really sure how it started. I didn't grow up saying this word.  I used words like fruits and vegetables, or more specific words like "apple" or "strawberry."  Or place-centric references like "I'm going to the store" or "I'm going to the farmer's market."

 But I hadn't used the word "produce."  Until now.  

And somewhere along the way, I taught Max to say this.  And now we (and by we, I mean he) loves to say this word.  Not just say it.  But live it. Dance to it.  Replace all the words of Hey Jude to simply "produce." Games of identifying whether or not the object in front of us is produce or not.

Instead of saying "we are going to the farmer's market," we say "we are getting produce today!"

Seth recently asked me why Max is so excited about going to the farmer's market, why he is so excited about produce?

I just laughed.

Who wouldn't love produce?!?  I'm kidding, this is not one of those posts espousing the beauty and deliciousness of produce from farmer's markets...

I laughed because Max doesn't actually like being at the farmer's market (unless he is chowing down on a juicy peach or tossing back berries by the handful).  He just likes saying the word.  Once we are actually out shopping, shoes will be definitely, defiantly kicked off and "bye bye produce" will be shouted pleadingly.

And while he has an appreciation for the actual word, it most definitely does not mean he loves all produce.  We are not one of those impossibly charming families where kids skip around swinging baskets of hand-picked fruits and veggies and turn their heads in disgust at the sight of a processed food item.

This time, Max was super excited to eat his produce in peach form.  He did not however enjoy the peaches turned into puffs.  Puffs filled with lime-scented peaches, ginger, basil, and brie.  They tasted pretty awesome to me though...  To make up for his lack of enthusiasm, he did perform a produce dance.  So that helped.

Love this video from Cooking Light about buying and storing fresh peaches! So informative!

Ingredients
1 1/2 cups chopped peeled peaches
2 tablespoons chopped basil
1 tablespoon lime juice
1/2 teaspoon lime zest
1 1/2 tablespoons honey
1 teaspoon freshly grated ginger
2 teaspoons cornstarch
2 ounces brie
1 sheet puff pastry dough, thawed
1 tablespoon half and half
turbinado sugar, for sprinkling

Instructions
Heat oven to 400 (or whatever temperature is recommended on your puff pastry dough). Cut the puff pastry into four triangles. In a bowl, toss together the peaches, basil, lime juice, lime zest, honey, ginger, and cornstarch.  Place about 1 1/2 tablespoons of the peach mixture as well as a slice of brie on each triangle, bring the opposing edges over and seal the puff into a triangle shape. You may want to use just a bit of water to help seal. Whisk the egg and milk and brush the half and half on each triangle and sprinkle with turbinado sugar. Bake for about 15 minutes until golden brown and puffy.

Battle of the Bloggers - Za'atar and Sesame Zucchini Bites with a Sesame Lemon Dipping Sauce

Here we are posting another zucchini recipe this week, acting as though we have a garden and an abundance of zucchini that we are desperately trying to use up.  This is not the case.  No such garden exists.  Between all the bugs, dirt, allergies, and bugs, I can safely say that gardening is not my thing. 

My reason for posting zucchini again - these thick slices of zucchini are coated and baked in a mixture of panko, za’atar, and sesame seeds, and served with a lemon-sesame dipping sauce - comes from a very non-altruistic place.  

I have such a huge favor to ask of you.  If you like this recipe, I would love for you to to vote for it!

Smart Balance is running a Battle of the Bloggers competition.  The blogger whose recipe receives the most votes at the end of the contest will win a yearlong contract with Smart Balance to develop recipes!  

To vote for the entry (it's super quick):
 •  CLICK HERE to head to the Battle of the Bloggers Facebook app!  Then vote!

You will even have a chance to win prizes, including Calphalon products and a year's supply of Smart Balance products!  The contest runs now through August 11th.  

Ingredients

For the bites:

2 medium zucchini, cut into slices (about 1/4-inch to 1/2-inch thick)

1 cup buttermilk

2 cups panko

1 teaspoon kosher salt

1/2 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper

1 tablespoon za'atar

2 tablespoons roasted sesame seeds

ground sumac, for sprinkling

paprika, for sprinkling

Smart Balance Cooking Spray

For the dip:

1/4 cup Smart Balance Omega Plus Mayonnaise

1/4 cup Greek yogurt

1 tablespoon tahini

1 teaspoon sesame oil

1/2 teaspoon lemon zest

1 tablespoon lemon juice

1/2 teaspoon honey

pinch ground sumac

1/2 teaspoon za'atar

kosher salt and freshly ground black pepper, to taste

1 tablespoon roasted sesame seeds, plus more for serving

Instructions

To make the zucchini bites:

Heat oven to 400.  Place buttermilk in a shallow bowl.  Mix together panko, salt, pepper, za'atar, and sesame seeds.  Place in a second shallow bowl.  Dip each zucchini slice first in buttermilk and then in the panko mixture.  Repeat for each slice.  Place on lined baking sheet.  Sprinkle each bite with just a pinch of sumac and paprika.  Spray the zucchini bites with cooking spray.  Bake for about 15-20 minutes until golden brown.

To make the dipping sauce:

Stir all ingredients together.  Adjust salt and pepper to taste.  Sprinkle sesame seeds on top before serving. 

Kettle Chips with a Cheesy, Caramelized Onion, Malt Vinegar Dip

Max and I recently had a dispute.

A handful of toys were lying on the bedroom floor.  I told the tot that we could go to the park, but only after he picked up his toys.

He refused.  Seriously, if I showed you the picture of the toys you would be like wow, that would take all of 5 seconds to clean up.  But nonetheless, it was the principle…toys get cleaned up and then we can go to the park.

I decided to relax a bit and sprawled out on the bed with a book, hoping to force Max to be in continuous confrontation with the “mess” and, subsequently, clean it up.   And then afterwards, we could head out to bask in the sunshine and blue skies and climb the big toy.

I sat.  Max sat.  After a long while, Max asked to use the potty, which was downstairs.  So I said of course!  We went down the stairs and he bolted… right for the front door.  Not the bathroom.  But the front door.  And he frantically tried to open it and kept making the ASL sign for "swing" and saying park.

He tricked me!  Or at least tried to.  I mean, it is hard to imagine that he thought that by just getting me to go down the stairs would be enough for me to say of course, of course we can go to the park.  But you know, he is still at the toddler stage in life, so I’m guessing his analytic and reasoning skills have yet to really come together.

Unlike my offspring, kettle chips are not here to deceive us.

Kettle chips are made with all-natural, non-GMO products.  No weird ingredients.  They take unpeeled potatoes, cook in small batches, and season with delicious flavors.  That's it.

And you can taste the amazingness.  So crunchy and potato-y.  Everything a potato chip should be.

We made a dip to go along with our chips.  We liked both the Backyard Barbecue and the Sea Salt and Pepper chips with our Cheesy Caramelized Onion Dip, with Malt Vinegar.  Even our deceptive tot was captivated by the wonderful, real Kettle Chips.  Perhaps he can learn something from them.

Don't forget to show some love for Kettle Chips on social media - here for Twitter (#TheRealKettleChips), and here for Facebook.

Ingredients

8 ounces cream cheese, softened

1/2 cup sour cream
1 cup grated Gruyere cheese, plus 1/4 cup for sprinkling on top
1/2 cup grated smoked Gouda
1 cup caramelized onions
1 tablespoon malt vinegar
1 sprig thyme
salt and pepper, to taste
favorite Kettle Chips (we used Salt and Pepper and Backyard Barbecue)

Instructions
Heat oven to 400.  In mixing bowl, stir together cream cheese, sour cream, Gruyere, smoked Gouda, onions, vinegar, seasonings, and thyme leaves.  Place in ovenproof bowl, sprinkle top with 1/4 cup Gruyere.  Bake for about 20 minutes until bubbly, and brown on top. Serve with Kettle Chips.

This is a sponsored conversation written by me on behalf of Kettle Brand. The opinions and text are all mine.

Grilled Artichoke Quarters with Anchovy Garlic Drizzle - a Picnic Potluck

I am a ruiner.  As in, I ruin things.  Usually with just a few well-placed complaints.  It can be seen as a talent.  Or a buzzkill.  All depends on your perspective.

I'm starting to think I might need to keep this tendency in check.  Just a bit.  Okay, maybe a lot a bit.

For instance, we got some Chinese takeout recently.  And ate it on a table outdoors at sunset at this super scenic area.  It was gorgeous and romantic.

Until Seth asked me how I liked the food.  My response was ehhhh.

I mean, yes, I guess I was being truthful (the food wasn't bad, and some dishes were pretty interesting, but it could have been better), but the truth isn't always the most beautiful.  It won't always bring the most happiness.  Instead I was the person bringing the party down.  My complaining really served no purpose but to sap all the romance from the scene.  Would it have killed me to just say that I love it?

So I need to work on this whole complaining thing.  Just a little.

This month's Creative Cooking Challenge comes at the perfect time.  The topic is, "potluck picnic."  And picnics, being all outdoors and stuff, can be a bit of a bugaboo.  Wonderful in theory, but a goldmine for complaints about bugs, food that shouldn't be cold, food that shouldn't be warm, etc.

That said, we are preparing grilled artichoke quarters with an anchovy garlic drizzle. It may seem like a strange choice for a picnic, but if one does the prepping and boiling of the artichoke before arriving, as well as the mixing of the drizzle, one only needs to grill the quarters on site, and finish them with the drizzle, Parmesan and parsley.  Freshly grilled, they should be hot enough to melt the cheese and make up for the long trip.  And who doesn't like grilling at the park?  Plus the drizzle has a crazy amount of flavor.  Hopefully, they'll keep my whiny side in check...

Click here to check out the entire Picnic Potluck Roundup hosted by Joan of Foodalogue!

Ingredients
2 artichokes (will make 8 quarters)
2 ounces anchovies packed in olive oil, be sure to reserve the olive oil from the package
3 tablespoons olive oil
2 garlic cloves, minced
1 teaspoon white wine vinegar
1 teaspoon ground hazelnuts
Parmesan cheese wedge and microplane, for serving
parsley leaves, for serving

Instructions
For the anchovy drizzle (at home):
Pour the olive oil from the anchovies into a small pot.  Mince the anchovies and add those in.  Stir in 3 tablespoons olive oil, the minced garlic, and the vinegar.  Over low heat, let the mixture come together for 5-10 minutes, until the anchovies have begun to melt into the mixture a bit.  Take off heat and stir in the hazelnuts.

For the artichokes (at home):
Prep we will do at home.  To start, set a large pot of salted water on the stove to boil. Using kitchen shears, trim off pointy tips of artichoke leaves. Using a large, sharp knife, cut off the top ½-inch of the artichokes and the end of each stem. Carefully remove any small leaves attached directly to the stem. Wash artichokes thoroughly under cold water to clean them off, and dry with paper towel.

For this part, you will want to do one artichoke at a time. Take your big sharp knife, coat it with lemon juice from one of your lemon wedges, turn an artichoke upside down, so the stem is sticking up and slice it straight down in half, and then in half again to make quarters. Immediately rub down all cut surfaces with lemon wedges to prevent discoloration. Take a serrated spoon, or regular spoon, and coat it with lemon juice. Scoop out the fuzzy choke in the center, as well as the inner, purple leaves. Make sure you get all of the fuzzy part out, and liberally rub down the top of the heart with lemon to prevent discoloration. I also try to cut any remaining prickly points off of the inner curled leaves to prevent poking the eater. Repeat for other quarters.

Once water is boiling, place artichokes in, cut side down, and cover with a clean cheese cloth, dish cloth, or cloth napkin. This will soak up water and ensure the artichokes stay wet while cooking. Cover pot with lid and cook about 9 minutes. When they are ready, they should be just soft enough to push a fork into the inside of the stem, but no softer. The outside of the stem should still be a bit firm.  Carefully remove artichokes and place in a bowl of ice water to halt their cooking.  Once they have cooled, thoroughly drain the water out and place in a Tupperware container to bring to the grill site.

For the artichokes (at grill site):
If using a charcoal grill, stack and light charcoal according to your favorite method. We like using a large chimney starter. The charcoal will be flaming and smoking for around 20-45 minutes.  Once 90 percent of the charcoal is ashed over, spread evenly onto charcoal rack, and place grates.  After grates have warmed up (5 minutes), scrape them clean using a grill brush.

Once your grill is ready to use, brush the artichokes with olive oil and black pepper. Adjust heat to high (350-400°). If grill grates are cast iron, rub them down briefly using a few paper towels or a cheese cloth dipped in canola oil. Place artichokes on grates, cut side down. To help them stay oriented correctly, squeeze the quarters up next to each other for added support. Close top and wait 3-5 minutes. Once the side making contact is adequately charred, brush the remaining cut side with olive oil and turn over onto the un-charred side.  Remove from heat once both cut sides have a light char.

Drizzle the artichokes with anchovy mixture, then sprinkle with fresh grated Parmesan cheese and chopped parsley.

Mango Camembert Quesadilla with Vanilla and Honey Tangerine Dip

5 years ago, I fell in love.  It was with a red dress.  The most perfect red dress in the world.

After finding my soul mate, I just assumed we would grow old together.  I mean, I guess I didn't really expect to be like 85 and still wearing it.  Okay, fine, a small but irrational part of me hoped to be 85 and rocking some long silver hair and the dress.  But the reasonable part of my brain expected at least a solid decade together. Ten years of museums and restaurants and street fairs and barbecues and trips to the grocery store to experience with each other.

It has recently come to my attention that this red dress is no longer perfect.  Instead of an expanse of flawless red, it is now red with greyish black gunk on the bottom.  It is as though I decided to drag the dress in a vat of gasoline.

I have no idea how it got there.  Nor do I know what the stain is.  I have tried all the stain removal tricks I can find.  But it won't budge.  I will probably take it to a cleaner to see if they can work some magic, but I'm not optimistic.

I have started to mourn the loss.  The loss of the dress.  The loss of our years together.

There isn't much that can fill this void.  But food helps.  Food all cheesy and fruity, and with a honey-tangerine dip.

Though our time together was perhaps cut short, I will always carry its spirit with me. I just know it would love this quesadilla.

Adapted from Cooking Light's Peach and Brie Quesadilla

Ingredients
2 tablespoons honey
2 tablespoons tangerine juice
1/2 teaspoon tangerine zest
1/4 teaspoon vanilla extract

1 scallion, chopped
4 ounces Camembert cheese, thinly sliced
1 cup sliced mango
4 flour tortillas
canola oil, for cooking

Instructions
To make the honey dipping sauce:
In a small bowl, mix the honey, tangerine juice, tangerine zest, and the vanilla extract together.  Set aside.

To assemble the quesadillas:
Take the flour tortilla and put some chopped scallions, some mango, and a slice of Camembert on half of the tortilla.  Once all your ingredients are in, fold the tortilla. Heat canola oil (about a tablespoon) in a cast iron skillet. Place the quesadillas in two at a time. Once a side has a nice golden brown color, flip it over. Once both sides are golden brown, take off heat and serve with the honey tangerine dipping sauce.

Broccoli Quesadillas - "Our Usual" and the "Fancypants"

Seth's dreams are epic dreams.   A fact that can turn bleary mornings into family story hour.  Seth regales me with a recitation of his most recent nocturnal tale while I greedily lap it up.

Tales of survival in a post apocalyptic world.  Heroic tales of saving lives - sometimes people, sometimes kitten. Tales of living life as a whale (whether that whale was a blue or a grey yet remains unclear) and fighting to stay alive in the face of killer whale attacks.  These are the dreams that Seth's subconscious produces.

I'm so eager to eat up these dreams and absorb them into my memory.  Perhaps I hope my own subconscious mind will start to produce similar results through osmosis.

Mine, are well, mundane.  At best.  If I can even remember them.  Which is a seldom occurrence in life.  The ones I usually remember are those anxiety-ridden ones, the ones where you are late and despite your best attempts to get to where you are going, you are stymied every step of the way.

Once I dreamed of a loaf of bread.  That's it.  It was the Platonic ideal of a loaf, just floating in front of a black background.  No events actually happened.  Just a floating loaf.  I strangely didn't even eat the bread, a surprising thing for me to do since I have a deep and abiding love for the stuff.

Seth's dreamscape couldn't be more different from mine.  Our quesadilla preferences suffer from similar discrepancies.  But this disparity runs the other direction - mine are the more epic quesadillas.  I started adding a mango and black bean spread to add some extra levels of flavor.  Our usual quesadilla involves broccoli and jalapeno with scallion, cilantro and cheese.  I wanted more.

When offered the quesadilla with "more," Seth determined that he still wanted his usual and not the "fancypants."  I long for more in my dreams.  Seth apparently does not feel the same about his quesadilla.  Somehow, we make it work.

Ingredients
Mango and Black Bean Spread:
1 can black beans and their liquid
1/4 cup olive oil
1/3 cup chopped mango
1 teaspoon spice mix (below)
3 garlic cloves, minced
pinch salt

Spice Mix:
1/2 tsp roasted Saigon cinnamon
1/4 tsp cardamom
1/4 tsp nutmeg
1/8 tsp allspice
1/8 tsp pepper
1/8 tsp ground coriander
Pinch cumin
Pinch ground ginger
Pinch ground star anise

For the quesadillas:
black bean spread
sliced jalapeno
about a 1/4 cup finely chopped broccoli florets per quesadilla
chopped scallions
chopped cilantro
grated cheddar cheese
crumbled cotija cheese
flour tortilla
canola oil, for cooking

Instructions
For the spice mix:
Mix all the spices together in a small bowl.  Keep leftovers in an airtight container.

For the mango black bean spread:
Place all the ingredients, including the spice mix, in a medium pot over medium-low heat.  Let everything cook together, and after about ten minutes, take off heat.  Use an immersion blender to puree.  Set aside.

For the quesadillas:
Take the flour tortilla and spread the mango and black bean mixture on half of the tortilla.  Then layer the jalapeno slices, broccoli florets, scallions, cilantro, and cheeses on top of the spread.  Or if you are being Seth, then just skip the mango black bean mixture part.  Once all your ingredients are in, fold the tortilla.  Heat canola oil (about a tablespoon) in a cast iron skillet.  Place the quesadilla in.  Once a side has a nice golden brown color, flip it over.  Once both sides are golden brown, take off heat and serve.

Roasted Marrow Bones with Blood Oranges, Microbroccoli, and Vanilla Salt

These are unabashedly bones.

A love of chicken wings did not come easily to either of us.  To this day, I feel just a teensy bit icky about eating them.  The bones in chicken wings were (are) a hindrance, a barrier, to the good stuff - the meat and sauce.  Not just a barrier, but a hidden barrier encountered after eating has commenced.

There is no deception with this.  Which perhaps explains why my love came so quickly for roasted bones. You don't run into a bone whilst trying to pick at some chicken meat. The bone is the vessel.  Little vessels of meaty, buttery marrow.  So nakedly primal - so loudly, so truly bone.

We love to spread the marrow on little crostini and top it with blood orange juice, vanilla salt, and micro-broccoli.

Ingredients
6-8 marrow bones
drizzle of extra virgin olive oil
pinch kosher salt
freshly ground black pepper

1 baguette, sliced
1/4 cup extra virgin olive oil
kosher salt
freshly ground black pepper

micro broccoli, broccoli sprouts or other micro green
juice from two small blood oranges

*Vanilla Salt
1 cup kosher salt
1 vanilla bean, split in half


Instructions
*For the Vanilla Salt:  Place salt and vanilla bean in an airtight container.  Leave them to mingle for a couple days before using.

Heat oven to 450. Drizzle marrow bones with a bit of olive oil.  Sprinkle with salt and pepper.  Roast for 20-30 minutes, until the marrow inside of the bones is soft.

Heat oven to 375. Place the baguette slices on a baking sheet (I used a Silpat to line mine). Pour 1/4 cup olive oil in a bowl, and brush the oil on each slice. Sprinkle a bit of salt and pepper on each. Bake for 8-10 minutes or until golden-brown.

Spread marrow on crostini, then top with some micro broccoli, blood orange juice, and vanilla salt.

Nutella and Cara Cara Orange on Whole Wheat Toast, Sprinkled with Sea Salt

At times, I am completely floored by the differences between me and the offspring.  Like at the park, watching him try to scale baby-sized boulders, so carefree and surefooted.  Each rock is just a mountain waiting for a Max to come and climb.

Me?  I'm a klutz.  I'm awkward and run into things and do not watch where I'm going or what is in front of me.  So there is no carefree surefootedness here.  Just thoughts of please don't fall, please don't fall please don't fall.  And then I fall. Or run into the corner of something, resulting in yet another giant bruise. Or bang an elbow in a doorway.  My body finds a myriad of ways to hurt itself.

Then there is our differing outlook on bugs.  One day, Max and I were in his room, and he pointed at the wall, filled with glee and joy.  And there it was.  A giant spider.  I panicked on the inside.  But I put on a steely face and went after the spider with a shoe from Seth's closet.  My attempt to vanquish the 8-legged arachnid was futile and it gracefully sidestepped my attacks.  And each attempt to get "Gigantic Spider" resulted in fearful crying by Max.  He apparently wanted the spider to stay alive.  Like a pet.  A pet spider.

In fact, he was so smitten by the spider, he asked for more bugs.  When it was explained to him that no, I would not actually be bringing him more bugs to play with, he marched right to the computer to do his version of "research" - looking at bugs and spiders online.  I took his distraction as an opportunity to sneakily creep up to his room and spray "Gigantic Spider" with bug spray.

But other times, our familial connection is much more visible.  Much more visceral.

Sometimes that connection comes in a small tube. Chapstick, actually.  My obsession has been passed on to him.  We will never know if this is nature or nurture at play.  He carries around a container in his coat pocket.  And he has his own container of my cast-offs, smelling and playing with each tube lovingly.  They have found themselves a good home with him.

And we also share a love of citrus and chocolate.  When I saw this in Cooking Light, I was so instantly smitten - so easy, so creative, and so delicious.  I found myself getting Max and myself ready to head out the door, literally running  (okay, more like galloping with a stroller) to get the stuff (chapsticks, naturally in both of our coat pockets).  And once these were made, both of us happily munched, together united in a love of chapstick and a love for citrus and chocolate.  Our differences in bug control and risk taking being pushed aside for the moment.

Ingredients
slice of a crusty whole wheat french bread, toasted
1 tablespoon Nutella
Cara Cara orange, segmented
pinch of fleur de sel

Instructions
This is so ridiculously easy.  Just take your toasted bread and spread Nutella on it.  Sprinkle with citrus segments and a pinch of fleur de sel.  Then chow down.

Duck Fat Fries smothered in Beef, Onion, Beer Gravy - a Meat and Potatoes Creative Cooking Crew Challenge

Gift giving can fall into two camps.  I mean, there are definitely more kinds, but to keep it simple, lets just go with two.  There are those totally selfless gifts.  Those that benefit only the recipient.  The kind that are chosen after thoughtful, careful consideration of the likes and dislikes of the person receiving the gift.  Like the DVDs of The Secret Life of the American Teenager that Seth gave me one year.  I had been (rightfully) too embarrassed to tell him that I watch the show (It is seriously so so bad, but I cannot stop watching), but somehow this secret came out.  And a few weeks later, there they were, two seasons of it on DVD for me to enjoy and relish in all their soap opera-y glory, with the caveat that Seth would never partake in Secret Life viewing.

Then there are those that conveniently benefit both the recipient and the giver.  Valentine's Day this year was, perhaps, not my finest moment, as both the gift I gave Seth and the the gift I gave Max both fall in this camp.  Like these towels - I gave Seth two.  Guess who gets to use one of them.  What a coincidence!  Max received Finding Nemo.  Because I adore it.

And speaking of things I adore, I love making oven fries.  Tossing some veggies or potatoes with oil, salt, and pepper and popping them in the oven - super quick and super easy.  I should point out, I am not anti-deep frying.  But it is hard to fit it in as a "side dish."  If I'm doing it, I need it to be the main event.  But Seth, his face becomes ever so slightly crestfallen when it is announced that the fries I am serving aren't "real fries."

So when the Creative Cooking Crew's challenge of meat and potatoes (round-up can be found here) was revealed this month, I figured I would give Seth a culinary gift of sorts- french fries.  Deep-fried fries - all fried in duck fat.  None of this oven business.  But really, I just wanted to play around with some duck fat.  And by culinary gift, I mean, I told Seth that he would be doing the actual frying (in fairness, this is something he enjoys).  I'm such a giver, what can I say...

We topped these french fries with a beefy gravy filled with onions and beer.  And topped with a dollop of sour cream and a touch of truffle oil.

It figures that all my "presents" would come back to bite me - Seth's Valentine's Day gift to me?  A mandoline to make the french fries.


Ingredients
For the meaty gravy:
1/2 - 3/4 pound beef stew meat
1 tablespoon olive oil
salt
pepper
3 tablespoons unsalted butter
2 onions, sliced
1 large thyme sprig
1 teaspoon juniper berries
1/2 teaspoon cloves
1/2 teaspoon peppercorns
1/2 teaspoon coriander
1/4 teaspoon ground bayleaf
3 garlic cloves
8 ounces of a nice beer (we actually made this twice, once with Chimay Blue and once with a Black Butte Porter)
1 teaspoon brown sugar
1 teaspoon apple cider vinegar

For the fries:
11.5 ounce container duck fat
1 quart canola oil
4 smallish russet potatoes, julienned into 6 mm strips
1 cup flour
 reserved seasoning mix
sprinkling of fleur de sel
drizzle of truffle oil
2 tablespoons parsley, for serving
dollop of sour cream, for serving

Instructions
For the meaty gravy:
Grind juniper berries, cloves, peppercorns, and coriander together, and then mix in a 1/4 teaspoon of ground bay leaves.  Set aside.

In a dutch oven or heavy skillet, heat olive oil over high heat and brown the beef.  Make sure to get the sides nice and brown, then turn the heat to low to finish cooking the beef until just barely pink.  Turn the heat off, and remove the beef to a cutting board.  Let the beef rest for a few minutes, then shred or slice into small pieces.  Try to reserve any of the beef juice that runs out while shredding.

In the dutch oven or skillet, melt butter over medium heat and add onion, 1 1/2 teaspoons of the reserved seasoning mix, and the leaves from a large sprig of thyme. Cook on medium for about 5 minutes, then reduce to low, cooking for another 15 minutes to get those onions soft and silky.  Add in the garlic and cook for a minute, until fragrant.  Add the beef and any of its reserved juices back into the pan.  Add the beer, letting it cook down just a bit.  Add in the brown sugar and vinegar, and let it cook on low for a few minutes.

For the fries:
Peel potatoes, keeping them in a large pot of cold water after peeling.  Julienne each one into 6 mm strips, keeping them in the cold water again until frying.

We used the double frying method for the fries to get them as crispy as possible.  Pour the canola oil in one saucepan, and the duck fat in another.  We found it best to keep the canola oil at 250 degrees and the duck fat at 300 degrees.  When the oil was at a higher temperature, it would cook too much in the canola and not enough in the duck fat, not picking up that delicious, savory taste of the duck.

We also tried out frying the potatoes without dredging them in flour but they were soggier and less crispy that way.  So, mix flour with some water to make it a consistency just thicker than heavy cream (probably about 1/2 cup water), and dredge a handful of the julienned potatoes in the mixture before tossing them in the canola oil.  Fry for just a minute, until the potato stops looking opaque.  Use a skimmer to take the fries out of the canola oil and place them in the duck fat, frying until golden and crispy, about 3-4 minutes.  Set on paper towel and repeat until all the potatoes are cooked.

Toss fries with a bit of truffle oil, and sprinkle with seasoning mix and fleur de sel.  Top the fries with gravy, parsley, and a dollop of sour cream.

Puffy Hearts and a Rosy Brie Dip with Strawberries and Pistachios

How we think of ourselves and how others think of us are not always the same.  I like to think of myself as a romantic.  But it has come to my attention that this is not an accurate description of myself.  I blame my mom.  Just kidding.  Kinda.  I'm not really kidding, but I don't want to sound like I don't love my mom - I love you mom!!  Of course parents are blamed for everything.  Such a cliche, right?

When it comes to Valentine's Day, I can totally do the cheesy side of it.  Like these puffy hearts.  Heart-shaped eggs.  And I make a homemade heart-shaped banner thing to hang on the wall (I do silly banners for all the holidays).  This year, I made marshmallows and fudge and cookies and chocolate pretzel toffee bark and put them all in these cute containers decorated with hearts.

But the other stuff - the romantic stuff - seems so intimidating.  Seth asked me, "Ohh what should we do for Valentine's Day," and I'm like, "We could either make dinner together... or I make dinner...or we get takeout?" He was like, "so just like any other night."  I was like, well, you know, but special food!  He then replied "You never think big!"

I asked my mom what her boyfriend and she were doing for Valentine's Day this year.  And she said "nothing." She said she already told him she doesn't want to do anything.  And this wasn't said in a mean or bitter way.  She just genuinely doesn't want to do anything.

So you can see now where I get it.  But I'm not quite at that level of anti-romance yet.  I hope.  However, I did get Seth bath towels as a gift.  So there's that.  Super amazingly soft and all.  But, you know, they are still towels.

But Seth, he is the one that can think big.  Many moons ago, I did a study abroad in Germany.  One morning, the doorbell rang.  Which was strange.  Not because it was early (which it was).  But because I knew like a total of 4 people in the city. So I went down to the door and Seth was standing there.  A total surprise.  When he asked me to marry him - it involved kayaking and creating a large fort out of sheets.  

So I might not be good at the big stuff.  The grand stuff.  The romance.  But I can do the cute and cheesy (literally cheesy - I really crack myself up over the most ridiculous things).  Like these puff pastry hearts and brie melted with strawberries, white wine, rose, sugar, and pistachios.

Maybe it is best to think of these not as faults per se.  But a division of labor.  Specialization.  After all, someone has to do the taxes.

Ingredients
1 sheet puff pastry, thawed
1 egg, lightly beaten
4 teaspoons sugar
2 teaspoons ground dried rose leaves
1/2 pound wedge of brie
2/3 cup chopped strawberries, plus more for garnish
2 tablespoons pistachios
splash of white wine
3/4 teaspoon ground dried rose leaves
2 teaspoons sugar

Instructions
Heat oven to 350.  Mix 4 teaspoons sugar and 2 teaspoons ground rose in a small bowl.  Brush the thawed puff pastry sheet with the egg.  Sprinkle the sheet with rose sugar. Use heart shape cookie cutter to cut hearts from the dough.  Bake 10-15 minutes, until puffy and golden brown.

Heat oven to 350.  In a small oven-proof baking dish, combine the wedge of brie (chopped up a bit), strawberries, pistachios, white wine, rose, and sugar.  Bake for 10-15 minutes, until all melty.  Give it a stir and top with more strawberries.

Frost Kissed Artichokes with Honey Dijon Mayonnaise

Artichokes are a fussy vegetable. They aren't a bundle of asparagus spears, easily turned into a tasty side with some olive oil, a sprinkling of salt and pepper and a splash of balsamic vinegar. In fact they barely even resemble something edible.

Artichokes are all about process. From prep to cooking to that culminating moment when you finally sit down to eat the fruit (or veggie) of your labors. Instead of resenting the artichoke for its demands of high maintenance, we embrace it.

Each step lovingly performed. First the trimming of pointy ends to avoid pricked skin. Then in this case, a lobbing off of the top third to create a nook to hold the creamy dip. Lemon juice thoroughly applied to the exposed surfaces to prevent discoloration. A hot steamy boil to cook and a cool refreshing one after to stop the cooking process. Finally, the inedible parts of the choke carefully removed. 

A dollop of dip is placed in the hollow and then you can sit down with your reward, dipping each of the outer leaves into the embodiment of richness.  Peeling off that bit of artichoke, delicious and grassy in its own right, but hinting at the grand finale to come later. The inner leaves become completely edible, a crescendo of artichoke, building and building and building until that glorious and bittersweet moment comes when you realize that the heart is all that's left. The artichoke is almost finished but the most delicious bites still await you. That heart is carefully portioned out into equal size bites, neither too big nor too small but that Goldilocks-size of just right. A slight hesitation is made before dipping your one remaining chunk of heart. Very slight...

Now "frost kissed" artichokes are particularly amazing.  During those occasional winters in California when the temperature drops below freezing, we get a couple weeks of unusually nutty and delicious artichokes labeled, "frost kissed."  They may look a little off-putting, with the brown blistering outer leaves, but fully cooked, they are fantastic, and must be picked up whenever available!

Ingredients
2 frost kissed (or large globe) artichokes
2 egg yolks
1 cup canola
2 1/2 tablespoons Dijon mustard (I like Maille brand)
1 1/2 tablespoons honey
1 teaspoon lemon juice
fresh thyme sprig
salt and pepper to taste
lemon wedges, for serving

Instructions
To start, set a large pot of salted water on the stove to boil. Using kitchen shears, trim off pointy tips of artichoke leaves. Using a large, sharp knife, cut off the top 1-inch of the artichokes and the end of each stem. Using a knife, remove any small leaves attached directly to the base of the stem. Wash artichokes thoroughly under cold water to clean them off, and dry with paper towel.

Once water is boiling, place artichokes in, and cover with a clean cheese cloth, dish cloth, or cloth napkin. This will soak up water and ensure the artichokes stay wet while cooking. Cover pot with lid and cook about 15-20 minutes. When they are ready, they should be just soft enough to push a fork into the inside of the stem, but no softer. Carefully remove artichokes and pace in a colander over sink to drain.  Place in a large ice bath.

I like to make mayonnaise by hand, though I know others find the food processor easier to use for this. I place the egg yolks in a small bowl, then place a cup of oil next to me and get out a tablespoon. Whisk the egg yolks to break them up. Add a tablespoon of oil. Whisk that into the egg yolks so the yolks absorb it. Then repeat. And repeat. Just be patient. It will probably take about 10 minutes to get through all the oil. Then stir in the Dijon, honey, lemon juice, thyme leaves, and salt and pepper.  Refrigerate until serving.

When ready to serve, carefully remove the innermost clump of leaves to expose the fuzzy choke beneath.  Using a spoon, scoop out all of the fuzzy choke and toss.  Sprinkle salt and pepper into the exposed heart. Then, spoon the honey Dijon mayonnaise into the hollow of each artichoke.  Serve with lemon wedges.

Flatbread Pizza with Roasted Red Pepper Sauce, Broccoli, Caramelized Onions, and Pineapple

Lots of roasting happened in the making of this pizza.

I like thinking of the oven as a "black box."  And unlike most metaphorical black boxes, I actually don't like to analyze this one.  Usually, I love thinking about the "why."  Which I'm sure my mom just loved as I was growing up.  Actually, I am still scolded for over-thinking things.

I could learn all the mechanisms by which browning occurs and so on.  But if I do, it would no longer be the mysterious box into which things are placed and then deliciousness occurs.  I've actually had a lifelong reticence to learning about such processes.  As a high school student, I got it into my head that I was not going to take chemistry.  I didn't, and it felt like such a victory.  I carried my anti-chemistry flag right through college and grad school.  I can be such a contrarian sometimes.  I have little doubt that learning some chemistry would explain a lot of the magic, but I obstinately refuse to get into it.

When broccoli and garlic and red peppers are doused in some olive oil, salt, and pepper and put into this magic box, loveliness happens.  So I let the oven work its magic...and then add some fresh pineapple chunks for a sweet, juicy counterpoint.

Ingredients
Roasted broccoli:
3 cups broccoli florets
olive oil
salt
pepper
red pepper flakes
1 lemon wedge

Roasted red peppers:
3 red peppers, cut into quarters
olive oil
salt
pepper

Roasted garlic:
1 head of garlic
1 tablespoon oil

Caramelized Onions:
2 onions, peeled, halved, then sliced

Roasted red pepper pizza spread
1/4 cup extra virgin olive oil
1 (15.5) ounce can cannelini beans
1/2 teaspoon red pepper flakes
juice from 1/2 a lime
salt and pepper to taste
the roasted garlic
the roasted red peppers

Cheeses:
1/2 cup grated extra sharp cheddar
1/2 cup grated mozzarella
1/4 cup grated parmesan cheese

about 1 cup of fresh pineapple chunks
2 flatbreads (we used Stonefire's garlic naan)

Instructions
To roast the broccoli: Heat oven to 425. Place florets on baking sheet. Drizzle with olive oil. Sprinkle red pepper flakes, salt, freshly ground black pepper and Parmesan cheese over pieces. Roast for about 25 minutes, until pieces are soft and have that delicious browning on them. Remove from oven and squeeze fresh lemon juice over top.

To roast the garlic: Heat oven to 400. Take off the papery outer skin of the garlic bulb. Don’t remove all the skin, just the stuff that comes off easily. The head of garlic should still remain intact. Slice off the pointy end of the bulb to expose all the cloves. Place in a small greased ramekin and cover with the olive oil. Sprinkle just a pinch of salt and cover with aluminum foil. Place in oven and roast for about 45 minutes. The cloves of garlic will be all nice and soft.

To roast the red peppers: Heat oven to 425. Place red peppers on baking sheet. Drizzle with olive oil. Sprinkle red pepper flakes, salt, and freshly ground black pepper over pieces. Once one side of the veggie has a nice brown color, flip; then continue roasting for a total of about 35 minutes.

To caramelize the onions: Place a tablespoon of olive oil in large sauté pan over medium heat. Add the onion slices. Don’t stir too often yet. Let the pieces brown, without getting burnt. After about 15 minutes or so, once slices have mostly browned, I like to turn the heat down to low or medium low. Stir frequently. I like adding a bit of water or oil every so often to keep the pieces from burning or sticking too much. After about 40 minutes or so, the onions should have a dark brown, jam-like quality.

To make the red pepper spread: In a medium sauce pan, add oil, beans and their liquid, red pepper flakes, roasted garlic, and roasted peppers. Cook on medium low for 10 minutes. Season with lime juice, salt, and pepper. Blend with an immersion blender, and season again if needed.

To make the pizzas: Spread red pepper sauce on flatbreads. Top with cheeses, caramelized onions, and broccoli. Bake at 375 until cheese is all melted and the flatbread is getting crispy, about 8-10 minutes. Once it is done cooking, finish with fresh pineapple chunks.